From: scoffinator69
Disclaimer: This story is complete and utter fantasy, and should in no way be believed to say anything definitive about the characters involved, their sexual orientation, or their personal desires. It is 100% about the author thinking that this scenario would be fucking HOT. You should also realize by now that in a fantasy world, everyone is always safe from disease and disfigurement. We do not live in a fantasy world, so do with that knowledge what you will.
If you are underage according to your jurisdictions applicable laws (18 or 21 in most cases), please do not read or disseminate this story in anyway.
This story is copyrighted by the author as of 01-20-2018
Constructive input and/or encouragement is welcome at scoffin.2814@gmail.com. Flames will be ignored. I do hope you enjoy this story.
Please consider donating to Nifty Archive. The archivist does awesome work here, and doesn't get any support except for our gratitude. Help keep this amazing site open for all of us!
Rookie Tail Tales 5: Marcus Williams & Marshon Lattimore
Prologue
The weight of the defeat was palpable throughout the visitor's locker room in Minneapolis. It hung in the air like a stagnant, fetid pool that would bring waves of nausea and bile to the back of your throat if you breathed too deeply. Or, in this case, if you spoke the words out loud. The victory that had been signed and sealed failed to be delivered. Ten seconds left on the clock and Marcus Williams had tackled air instead of Stefon Diggs.
Well, that's not entirely true. He had also tackled the only one of his teammates that might have possibly been able to bring the Vikings hero down before the goal line.
Instead, the game clock ticked to 0.00 as the Vikings scored a miraculous game winning touchdown. Every aspect of a damn good rookie campaign had been erased. Everything he had done for the entirety of the rest of the game crumbled into dust and smoke as the victory evaporated before his eyes, only to reform itself in the eyes of his opponents.
Marcus Williams' head hung heavy in his hands. It hadn't been enough for him to move himself as far away from his teammates as possible, he had to hide his face from them...from everything...too.
Part 1
Marshon Lattimore found his fellow rookie defensive back in a small storage space around a couple of corners. He had watched his buddy move away from the journey to his locker, after his shower, in a trance. Towel around his waist, eyes fixed on the floor in front of him, and seeming to be burned by every teammate who tried to tell him it wasn't his fault and that they would have done exactly the same thing in his shoes. Marshon was half surprised, and totally impressed, that Marcus had held back from ripping a couple of heads literally off.
The 6' tall rookie cornerback let his towel drop to the floor as he quietly closed the door. Taking two quick steps, the nude stud slipped to his knees in front of his broken teammate, reaching between the rookie safety's spread thighs and under the towel his buddy still had wrapped around him, he ducked his head under where Marcus' head was held in shaking hands. Spreading and lifting the towel brought no movement from his teammate. Marshon knew his buddy was in a daze, and probably wishing he was dead, when his lips slipping around the flaccid but still hefty cock failed to elicit even a tremor in his teammates body.
The relief Lattimore felt as Williams' cock began to swell inside him swept over him in an unexpected and almost chilling way. The stud corner had not realized how tensed up he himself had been until that relief had come. Hadn't realized how tightly coiled his own anger and sadness had left him until the already plump cock head in his mouth grew to something closer to the familiar flaring crown he had come to know over the course of what had been (up until a half hour or so ago) a pair of pretty spectacular rookie years.
Marshon let his tongue loose, slipping it wildly over every inch of flesh he could reach with it, tracing the veins etched along the growing shaft of man meat now knocking at the entrance of his throat. He counted out the growth of the cock in time with the pulses emanating from it onto his tongue. He knew the exact moment it reached full hardness from the familiar pressure of it against the roof of his mouth, the exact way it stretched his lips wide, the difficulty required to make the swallowing motion he knew his buddy loved.
Eight and a half thick inches of rookie stud cock plugged his own rookie stud mouth full, Lattimore was breathing through his nose in shallow gasps. The short, sharp bursts of air on the still damp pubes; coupled with a second and third deep swallowing brought Marcus Williams to the edge of something like humanity. A slight whisper of a moan escaped the safety's lips as his hands were brought away from his tear streaked face and onto Marshon's scalp. The first sensation the safety fully comprehended was another swallow of his talented fuck buddy, followed lightning quick by the brush of the tip of the cornerback's tongue at the place where cockshaft gave over to scrotum.
The movement of his buddy's head away from his groin; the drumming of the tongue over and around his cock head; the quick, sure reverse of motion; the forceful deep throating of his fully hard cock let loose a tremor in Marcus Williams. A tremor which rolled fully over into a quake before Marshon Lattimore was even half way back down tower of jock muscle splitting his lips wide. The rookie safety struggled to pull his teammate's head and face up off his cock, Lattimore fought against it every inch of the way, only relenting when his buddy spoke.
"I don't fuckin deserve this, Mar."
The statement hit both men harder than either could fully understand in the moment, but nothing like as hard as Marshon's reply to Marcus.
"You the only one here who does deserve this. If you ain't gonna get to fuck your pain out right here right now we're all fucked."
Marshon Lattimore ducked his head away from Marcus Williams' hands, looking his fellow rookie in the eye for a split second before ducking lower once again, this time clamping his full lips onto one of the safety's bull nuts. Caressing it with his tongue for several seconds before switching over to the other and repeating the motions. By the time the cornerback had slipped both big balls into his gaping mouth at the same time, Marcus Williams' legs were all but trembling, his hands digging almost painfully into Lattimore's skull to hold him there deeper and tighter.
The cornerback worked his tongue wildly over the surface of his fuck buddy's hefty nut sack, forcefully shifting the plum sized gonads held within it in that way he knew the safety loved. He half wished he had pulled Marcus aside right after they had come into the locker room, before either of them had showered. Marshon Lattimore fucking LOVED the smell and taste of Marcus Williams' sweaty crotch in equal measure to how much the safety loved the corner's musk.
Even as he had half formed the realization that an immediate attack wouldn't have worked, that they had both needed those few minutes before starting down this road, Lattimore felt himself being pulled away from the spit soaked nut sack and being made to look up at his teammate. The two rookies maintained eye contact as Marcus Williams moved Marshon Lattimore into position.
"Suck it! Please!"
A half smile split the cornerback's lips as he flicked his tongue along the very tip of the now nearly purple crown of the safety's proud, thick cock. Winking up toward his teammate as he made another teasing swipe, Lattimore was caught almost off guard as Williams' powerful hips lurched up off the bench, forcing the cock head sharply between his loose lips, followed immediately by the remainder of the eight and a half inch shank. The conerback let slip a full, guttural moan as he face was impaled on his buddy's iron hard spike. Marshon held himself there, full lips pressed bruisingly at the base of his buddy's cock, as long as he dared. He let himself slip into the dizziness of oxygen deprivation as he worked his throat muscles and tongue violently over his buddy's jock muscle. He reveled in the feel and taste of Marcus Williams' pre-cum pulsing onto his tongue and slipping into his throat. The salty richness that he had grown to love seeming to nourish him. The feel of the safety's heart beat emanating from the cock buried deep in his mouth told Marshon that this was the right thing to have done, and even more; that he had needed this at least as much as Marcus had.
The steamy heat of his buddy's mouth, the vibrations buffeting along his cock flesh with every swallow, the pressure of the agile tongue against his vein etched shaft drove the stud safety to higher and higher levels of need. All of the pain, all of the anger acquired in the games last few seconds, was still there. Hell, it would probably never completely be erased. Marcus Williams found himself unable to completely give himself over to this moment, but for now it was enough to see some way forward, some release valve for all the fucked up emotions gathered in his mind like a tangle of barbed wire.
He half thought that he should not be punishing the face of his very willing cocksucker even as he drove his pelvic bone harder and harder against his fuck buddy's face. He knew he should not be digging his fingernails into his buddy's scalp with a force that threatened to draw blood.
And yet, he did exactly that.
And yet, he knew that this was exactly what Marshon Lattimore wanted from him at this moment. The acceptance of that increased the force of his thrusts against his fellow rookie's face. Increased the pressure of the digging, clawing fingers against the skin of the cornerback's scalp.
And increased the pressure of the swallowing, sucking mouth. Increased the speed and desire of the quivering, lashing tongue. Increased the pressure of the lips clamped tight around the girth of his shaft. Marcus Williams continued pounding himself into his buddy's mouth and then ripping himself out almost completely only to reverse again in less than the space of a heartbeat.
Marshon Lattimore gloried in the bruising crush of Marcus Williams' pelvic bone against his nose and upper lip with each driving thrust inward from his fuck buddy. His left hand was now cupping the hefty nut sack, feeling the full weight of the sperm laden balls now climbed slightly higher against the face fucker's groin. His right hand splayed palm down at the center of the safety's muscular chest, feeling the racing of Marcus' heart under it. Marshon shifted his gaze upward across the ripped torso he was knelt before. Williams was at once splayed out, legs bent wide to either side of his cock sucker, shoulders leaned back against the wall, arm muscles in full, almost obscene, relief as they held tight onto the cornerback's head, eyelids fluttering but never quite closing. He traced thumb and forefinger around Marcus' erect left nipple, waiting for the perfect moment.
Part 2
The moment came when Marcus Williams let loose with a long, deep moan; his head lolling to the side to rest on one broad shoulder. Marshon Lattimore pinched down hard, as if he were more interested in severing the nub of tit flesh than anything. The quake ripping through the safety's powerful body provided all the opening the cornerback needed.
Freeing himself quickly from his teammate's grasping hands, removing his face from his fellow rookie's throat fucking cock, Marshon stood, turned and bent over before Marcus had even completely opened his eyes to survey the scene that had caused the interruption. Half expecting to see a gang of angry teammates staring them down, he saw only his buddy before him. Lattimore was bent at the waist, one shoulder against the wall, one strong arm stretched down and pressed against the floor, legs spread showing the deep crevice of his butt crack, the wiry black hairs within framing the beautiful pink rosebud of the jock ass. Williams caught his buddy's eyes as he noted the uncomfortable looking position of the rookie corner's head.
"Do something useful with all that anger and frustration and pound my fucking ass!"
Had he moved as quickly and surely with ten seconds left in the game as he did now, this might be a celebration instead of a lament.
Even as he rose to his feet, Marcus Williams dug his fingers into the muscular glutes and spread them wider. Still bent over as he moved closer to Marshon Lattimore's perfect muscle ass he hawked a copious wad of saliva at the winking entrance to his buddy's greedy hole. As he finished uncoiling himself to his full 6'1" height, the head of his cock caught under the cornerback's taint. The safety instinctively slowed his movements, bringing one thumb to rest just below the flaring ridge of his cockhead he continued to rise. Even as he moved closer to Marshon's muscular backside, his flaring, purple, angry crown rasped along the wiry hairs and the over heated, sensitive skin. The perfectly timed domination that should have occurred on the field came now as the broad mushroom cap of his cock slipped forcefully into the tight jock hole of his fuck buddy. Marcus held himself there for a split second, the ridge of his cockhead just inside Marshon's balking sphincter, waiting for it. Needing to hear it now more than ever.
Marshon Lattimore sucked in a hissing gasp of pain at the intrusion. Although familiar, and desperately needed, the pain of initial entry was always, thrillingly, profound for the stud cornerback. He knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that what he felt whenever Marcus claimed him was exactly what anyone felt whenever he was the fucker instead of the fuckee. The hiss slipped into a moan as his muscular legs buckled slightly. He felt, as much as heard, Marcus gasp behind him. In his mind's eye he saw his fellow rookie Saint tense up every muscle in his body in the last second before he would be torn apart.
The sound of Marshon's moan, the slight shift of the cornerback's hips as his legs shook ripped through Marcus' brain like the reflexive quake at the sound of a starting gun. Williams slammed his powerful, tensed up body forward, driving hard and deep into Lattimore's accepting body. He knew the pain ripping it's way through his friend was the same pain he had felt whenever the corner had topped the safety. Knew intimately the tearing sensation that Marshon was feeling as Marcus sank eight and a half fat inches of jock cock into a tight, clenching jock ass.
Marcus Williams slipped one bag hand off Marshon Lattimore's hip, trailing it along the groaning jock bitch's smooth flesh to reach for his fuck buddy's cock, knowing he would find exactly what he always found there. Eight and a half fat inches of over heated jock shank, virtually an identical twin to his own, the only difference between the two stud cocks was that Marshon was uncut with a heavy hang of foreskin, and Marcus was cut. The safety dipped his thumb under that now tighter foreskin, letting the sharpness of his nail rasp over the pre-cum slick flesh even as his pelvis crashed fully, finally, into the hard mounds of muscle that formed the cornerback's powerful bubble butt.
By the seventh bone rattling thrust, Marcus Williams knew that this moment was at once too good and too bad to last. The feel of the clenching jock cunt along his driving cockshaft was too good. The pulse of pre-cum slicking his bottom bitch's cock (and his own palm) on every punching crash against Marshon's prostate was too good. The pain and anger and frustration at the loss...at his having blown the game for his team...was too bad. Had driven him into becoming a rutting and rabid beast taking out all of his fucked up emotions via the cruel and selfish fucking he was now laying into someone who should absolutely NOT be getting the brunt of it.
The fact that Marshon Lattimore had willingly given himself over to this, the fact that he had all but demanded it; knowing what it would mean to and for his teammate was too good. The fact that Marshon Lattimore was pushing hard off the wall to meet each and every deep, punishing thrust of eight and a half inches of fat rookie jock cock was way too fucking good.
Marcus Williams felt it ripping through both of them and knew that Marshon felt it too. The swell of the powerful cock in his hand. The swell of his own cock in the clamping, greedy jock cunt he was using. The gripping ripples of motion as the inner muscles of Lattimore's brutally used rookie hole worked over every millimeter of his still driving cock.
Marshon felt his teammate's body press tight against his own as Williams slammed his muscular torso against the cornerback's equally muscular back. The driving cock thrusts into his happily ruined ass shifted over to shorter, sharper motions, raining a crazy fast and hard beat on his butt nut like some jazz drummer on a coke high. The hand gripping his painfully hard cock clamped down somehow even more, the strokes along his uncut shaft at least as punishing as the ones inside him.
"Shoot it, Mar...let me do this right at least." the gasping statement was thick with regret and pain, surprising even the speaker. "Let me fuck this load outta you good, baby."
It was the 'baby' that did it. Not the first time Marcus had used that term for Marshon, but in the moment the most perfect.
Three powerful explosions of cum rocketed from Marshon Lattimore's cock, splitting the slit wide each time. Each burst on it's own nearly enough to match an entire orgasms worth for a mere mortal, anointed the wall before him, near where his shoulder rested. The fourth and fifth puddled on the floor under his nose and chin respectively. As he felt the next preparing to exit his body, he also felt Marcus' first breeding pulse deep inside him. The safety's teeth sank into the flesh at the base of the cornerback's neck as blast after blast of rookie cum flooded into Marshon's aching, abused muscle cunt. The thickening of the cock inside him as each blast was shot forth against the torn flesh of his ass drove Marshon to fire two more blasts of his own into his ass fuckers palm before it slid upward, leaving a trail of his own jock slime along his chest.
Marshon Lattimore counted two final pulses of Marcus Williams' cum deposited in his ass before the fucker's teeth released his neck from their grasp. The rookie cornerback felt the rude, cool rush of air sweep over his still gaping cunt as the now half hard cock suddenly slipped out of it. He heard the collapse of his teammate's body as it crumpled back onto the bench behind them, punctuated by the thud of Marcus' shoulders against the wall.
Moving slowly, and somewhat gingerly, Lattimore reached for his towel and plucked it off the floor, swiping it haphazardly along his slimy, well fucked ass crack and over his sated and shrinking cock. He turned and leaned momentarily against the wall, looking at his teammate.
"We'll take care of my frustrations when we get back home."
The lazy half smile of his teammate brought a corresponding one to his own lips and he tossed the cum soaked towel at Marcus.
"Come on baby, we gotta face the press."
Marshon Lattimore hated seeing his buddy's tentative smile fly away at the words he had spoken. He slipped an arm loosely over Marcus Williams' shoulder as they left the small, safe room.