The locker room reeked of sweat and liniment after baseball practice, steam curling from the showers as Christian and his teammates stripped down. Brock, the burly catcher with a chest like a barrel and a perpetual five-o'clock shadow, slammed his locker shut, towel slung low on his hips. 'Man, this campus is a fucking drought. Haven't seen a decent chick worth bending over since that sorority mixer went south. My balls are blue as hell.'
Tyler, the lean pitcher with tattoos snaking up his arms and a cocky grin, laughed as he soaped up under the spray. 'Tell me about it. Last girl I hooked up with ghosted me after one pump. Need some prime pussy to rail, not this dry spell bullshit.' He glanced at the others, water cascading over his ripped abs and down to his thickening shaft, half-hard from the frustration.
The rest of the team—Jax, the shortstop with sun-kissed skin and a bubble butt from squats; Marco, the outfielder built like a tank with thighs that could crush watermelons; and Liam, the first baseman whose dark curls and dimples hid a feral streak—muttered agreements, their cocks twitching in the humid air as they vented. Showers echoed with the slap of wet feet and low groans of pent-up need.
Christian, toweling off his sculpted torso, smirked from his bench spot. His own dick hung heavy between his legs, commando as always under his practice shorts earlier, now free and swinging with the motion. 'You pussies complaining again? Maybe if you weren't so desperate, you'd score.'
Brock eyed him, snapping his towel playfully. 'Easy for you to say, stud. You've been strutting around like you hit the jackpot. Spill—who's this mystery fuck keeping you so smug? Some off-campus babe with tits for days?'
Tyler turned off his shower, stroking his semi lazily as he sauntered over, water dripping from his veined length. 'Yeah, man. You're glowing. Dick deep in something good? Details, or we'll assume you're jerking to porn.'
The group crowded closer, cocks stirring visibly—Brock's thickening to a girthy seven inches, Jax's curving upward with a pierced head, Marco's dark and uncut monster pulsing, Liam's straight and thick like a beer can. Christian chuckled, his own cock lifting at the charged vibe, the head peeking from foreskin as blood rushed south.
'Alright, alright,' Christian said, leaning back, his abs flexing. 'Got this lover—hot as fuck, built like a god, takes it like a champ. Ass that grips like a vice, begs for loads every time. Fucks back harder than any chick I've railed. Last night, had him moaning my name, hole clenching around my cock while I pumped him full. No drama, just raw, sloppy breeding.'
Eyes widened, breaths quickened. Brock's hand drifted to his shaft, giving it a slow tug. 'Shit, sounds prime. Pics or it didn't happen.' Tyler's dick stood fully erect now, pre-cum beading at the slit, while Jax openly palmed his, the piercing glinting. Marco grunted approval, his beast rising to slap his abs, and Liam's throbbed visibly, veins bulging.
Christian grinned wickedly, pulling out his phone. 'Watch this.' He snapped a group shot—five hard cocks on display, from his own veined eight-incher to the team's varied arsenal, all leaking and ready. 'Sending this to my lover. Bet he'll cream himself.' He hit send to Dirk, caption: Teammates dying for action. Your hole up for it?
Across town, Dirk's phone buzzed on his desk at the engineering firm. He snuck a glance in the bathroom stall, heart pounding as the photo loaded: a forest of thick, hard dicks, his son's front and center, all glistening with pre. His own cock surged in his slacks, ass clenching at the fantasy he'd harbored—those young jock hunks pounding him senseless, flooding his guts. Fingers flew: Baseball game's on tonight. Come over, all of you. I'll make it worth the drive.
Hours later, the doorbell rang as the game blared from the living room TV—bottom of the first, crack of the bat echoing. Dirk had stripped down in anticipation, sliding into his favorite white jockstrap that cupped his heavy balls and framed his bubble ass, the straps digging into his muscular cheeks. Knee-high baseball socks in crisp white climbed his calves, hugging his thick quads, the tops banded just below his knees. Nothing else—just his tanned, ripped body on display, muscles oiled to shine under the lamp light, his semi-hard cock straining the jock's pouch.
Christian led the pack in, eyes devouring Dirk immediately. 'Fuck, Dad—look at you, all slutted up for us.' The teammates piled in behind, jaws dropping at the sight: Dirk bent slightly to adjust the coffee table snacks, ass cheeks flexing, the jock's rear strap vanishing between them.
Brock whistled low. 'Holy shit, this is your lover? That body's insane—ass like a porn star.' Tyler's shorts tented instantly, Marco adjusting his bulge, Jax and Liam exchanging hungry glances, cocks hardening as they stared at Dirk's exposed form.
No words needed. Christian grabbed Dirk's arm, spinning him toward the sofa. 'On your knees, slut. Game's on, but your hole's the main event.' The team descended like wolves, pinning Dirk face-down across the cushions, his ass arched high, socks sliding against the fabric.
Brock yanked the jockstrap aside, exposing Dirk's puckered hole, already twitching. 'Look at this hungry fuckhole,' he growled, spitting a thick glob onto it before slamming his girthy cock in balls-deep. Dirk yelped, walls stretching around the invasion, the burn turning to bliss as Brock pounded mercilessly, hips snapping with brute force. Each thrust squelched, Brock's balls slapping Dirk's taint, pre-cum lubing the way.
Tyler knelt at Dirk's head, freeing his tattooed dick and shoving it past Dirk's lips. 'Suck it, bitch—deep throat like you mean it.' Dirk gagged eagerly, throat bulging as he swallowed Tyler's length, saliva drooling down his chin, mixing with the sweat beading on his forehead. Tyler face-fucked him roughly, pubes grinding against Dirk's nose.
Christian watched, stroking his massive cock, then fed it to Dirk alongside Tyler's, stretching his mouth wide for a sloppy double suck. Dirk's tongue lapped at both shafts, tasting salty pre, his cheeks hollowing as he bobbed.
Jax and Liam took turns on Dirk's ass next. Jax went first, his pierced cock piercing the ring with a pop, the metal barbell dragging against Dirk's prostate on every plunge. 'Tight as fuck—gonna wreck this hole,' Jax grunted, railing fast, his bubble butt clenching with each drive. Cum from Brock's earlier load—hot ropes dumped deep after ten brutal minutes—sloshed out, bubbling around Jax's shaft, dripping down Dirk's socked legs.
Liam followed, his beer-can thick dick forcing in with a wet schlick, stretching Dirk wider. 'Feel that girth splitting you?' Liam taunted, pounding slow and deep, churning the cum into froth that foamed at the edges. Dirk moaned around the cocks in his mouth, ass quivering, hole gaping slightly on the outstroke.
Marco, the beast, claimed next, his uncut monster—nine inches of dark meat—plunging in savagely. He fucked like a machine, grunting Spanish curses, balls heavy and swinging as they smacked Dirk's skin. Sweat poured off all of them, the room thick with musk and the TV's crowd cheers. Marco's load erupted like a geyser, flooding Dirk's guts until it overflowed in creamy rivulets, soaking the jockstrap and puddling on the floor.
The gangbang peaked in chaos. Brock, hard again, lined up behind as Tyler pulled out of Dirk's mouth to let him gasp. 'Time to stuff this pig full,' Brock said, ramming back into the cum-slick hole. But Jax, eyes wild, pushed forward. 'Wait—let me in too.' He pressed his pierced tip against the stretched rim, alongside Brock's girth.
Dirk's eyes widened, but he pushed back greedily. 'Yes—double me, boys!' The two cocks forced entry together, Brock's thickness and Jax's length grinding side-by-side, splitting Dirk's ass obscenely. The burn was electric, walls clamping down on the dual invasion, cum from previous loads squirting out around the seals. They thrust in unison, cocks rubbing against each other through the thin membrane, Dirk's hole gaping to twice its size, red and puffy.
Dirk howled in ecstasy, body shaking as the DP hammered his prostate relentlessly. Fluids everywhere: cum farting out with each pull-back, lube and spit mixing into a sloppy mess that trailed down his thighs, darkening his socks.
Christian straddled Dirk's chest, feeding his son's thick cock down his throat. 'Clean Daddy's dick while they breed you,' Christian commanded, face-fucking deep, balls resting on Dirk's chin. Gags and slurps filled the air, Dirk's throat convulsing around the veined shaft.
His hands weren't idle—left jerking Tyler's slick length, right pumping Marco's uncut beast, foreskin sliding over the head with wet schlicks. Liam and the others stroked themselves, waiting turns, pre-cum flying as they watched the hole get destroyed.
Brock and Jax rutted faster, grunts syncing with the baseball announcer's calls. 'Fucking take it—two cocks owning your ass!' Jax snarled, his piercing scraping inner walls. Dirk's body jolted, prostate milked dry, his own cock untouched but spurting ropes into the jockstrap pouch, soaking it translucent.
Brock came first, bellowing as his load blasted deep, mixing with the flood already inside—gallons of jock cum churning in Dirk's bowels. Jax followed seconds later, pulsing hot jets that overflowed profusely, cum cascading like a waterfall down Dirk's crack, pooling beneath him on the sofa.
They pulled out with a obscene slurp, Dirk's hole winking open, a cavernous gape dribbling thick white globs. No respite—the team rotated, Marco and Liam tag-teaming the DP next, their combined girths even more punishing, stretching Dirk to his limits. He sucked Christian harder, jerking the others furiously, hands slick with pre and spit.
One by one, they unloaded: Tyler in his mouth, forcing Dirk to swallow the bitter flood while cum bubbled from his nostrils; Liam deep in the ass during a solo turn, pumping until Dirk's belly swelled slightly from the volume. Christian held out, watching his dad get used like a cumdump, then finally plunged into the ruined hole last, fucking through the layers of seed, adding his own massive load to the deluge.
The ninth-inning cheers faded from the TV as the home team clinched the win, but the real victory lay sprawled on the cum-drenched sofa. Dirk panted, his body a slick map of exhaustion—thighs quivering, white knee-high socks drooping with sweat and seed stains, the jockstrap a tattered rag clinging to his spent cock. His ass throbbed, a ruined, gaping mess leaking rivers of thick jock cum onto the cushions, the overflow forming sticky puddles that cooled against his skin. The team lounged around him in various states of undress, cocks softening but still glistening with remnants of their loads, chests heaving from the frenzy.
Christian slapped Dirk's ass cheek lightly, sending a fresh dribble of cum squirting from the puffy rim. 'Game's over, but party's just starting. Beers?' He hauled himself up, naked and unashamed, his thick dick swinging heavy between his legs as he padded to the kitchen fridge. The others grunted affirmations, pulling on shorts or staying bare, the room heavy with the scent of sex and victory sweat.
Brock cracked open a cold one first, foam spilling over his knuckles as he chugged, then passed one to Dirk, who sat up gingerly, hole clenching futilely against the flood inside. 'To the MVP,' Brock toasted, eyes raking over Dirk's wrecked form. 'Fuck, man, that ass is legendary. Took us all like a pro—double-stuffed and begging for more. Christian, you lucky bastard, how'd you land this cum-guzzling machine?'
Tyler sprawled on the floor, back against the sofa, nursing his beer with a satisfied smirk, his tattooed arm draped over his knee. 'No shit. My dick's raw from that throat, but damn, he swallowed every drop without spilling. Envy the hell outta you, bro. Waking up to that hole every day? I'd trade my pitching arm for a slut like that—hungry, tight, and built for breeding.' He took a swig, burping loudly, the casual bro vibe settling in as the post-game highlights replayed on screen.
Jax, legs spread wide on the armchair, his pierced cock tucked back into loose shorts, nodded vigorously. 'Word. Felt that grip when I was railing him—milking my load right out. And the way he pushed back during the DP? Pure fire. Christian, you're living the dream. Rest of us are out here chasing dry pussy, and you've got a personal fucktoy who drains the team dry.' Laughter rumbled through the group, Marco joining in with a deep chuckle, his massive frame sinking into the recliner, beer in one hand while the other idly scratched his balls.
'Pinche puta,' Marco rumbled in approval, his uncut dick half-hard again at the memory. 'That hole flooded like a river after I unloaded. You hit the jackpot, carnal. I'd kill for a repeat—ass that sloppy and still clenching for more.' Liam, curled on the other end of the sofa, elbowed Dirk playfully, handing him another beer. 'Seriously, dude's a beast. Jerked me off while sucking Christian—hands like velvet. Christian, spill: how do you keep him satisfied? We all just wrecked him, and look—he's still smirking like he wants round two.'
The guys clinked bottles, the conversation flowing easy and crude, envy laced with respect as they dissected the gangbang like a post-game recap. 'Ass cheeks like pillows, but that rim? Iron vice,' Brock added, chugging half his beer. 'Bet he could take three if we pushed it.' More laughs, the TV droning on with analysis no one watched, the real highlight being Dirk's body on display, cum still trickling from his stuffed hole to darken the sofa.
Christian, perched beside Dirk with an arm slung possessively over his shoulders, grinned through it all, his free hand tracing lazy circles on Dirk's thigh. 'You bros are preaching to the choir. But nah, he's one of a kind—my perfect match, takes everything I give and gives back double.' He leaned in, capturing Dirk's lips in a deep, claiming kiss, tongue plunging in to taste the lingering salt of Tyler's load. As they broke apart, Christian's fingers dipped lower, sliding between Dirk's cheeks to probe the sloppy, cum-filled hole. Two digits pushed in easy, the wrecked ring offering no resistance, scooping out a thick glob of mixed seed—Brock's, Jax's, everyone's essence churning inside.
Dirk moaned into the kiss's afterglow, eyes locking with Christian's as those fingers twisted, stirring the flood and making fresh squelches echo. Christian pulled them free, strings of cum connecting to Dirk's rim, and held them up to Dirk's mouth. 'Taste us, Dad—lick it clean.' Dirk obeyed hungrily, lips parting to suck the digits deep, tongue swirling around the salty, creamy mess, swallowing the team's combined loads with a throaty hum. The bros watched, beers paused mid-sip, cocks twitching back to life at the intimate display, the envy sharpening into outright awe for Christian's irreplaceable prize.
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