I knew it was coming the second Coach told me to shut the door. That tone meant something serious. The kind of tone that usually came after you broke curfew or put a rival QB in the hospital. He was always straightforward and one of those tough old-school alpha males but this was different. Not that I'd done anything wrong. Not technically. I was still putting up numbers. Still the tallest, strongest guy on the field. Still the goddamn quarterback. But I knew what this was about.
I closed the door. The click sounded too final. Coach Branson sat behind his desk, arms crossed, jaw tight. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. He was early 40's. He'd clearly broken hearts back in his day and still had the remnants of a fit, muscular physique though not as much definition as he would have once had, succumbing to the inevitable dad bod.
"We need to talk," he said.
I crossed my arms over my chest, already defensive. "You mean about how I threw a 60-yard bomb in practice? Or how I haven't missed a single read all season?"
He didn't bite. "You've been wearing that compression gear for weeks," he said, eyes not quite meeting mine. "We've noticed the change."
My stomach clenched. My binder felt tighter all of a sudden, like it was suffocating me from the inside.
"You checking me out now, Coach?" I said, leaning into the sarcasm, the only weapon I had left.
His blue eyes snapped to mine. "Cut the attitude. You're turning into a distraction. The guys can't focus. Hell, half of them stare at your chest more than the damn playbook."
That stung more than I expected. "I wear a binder," I said, voice sharper now. "No one sees anything. I still play harder than anyone out there. Or doesn't that count anymore?"
Coach stood and came around the desk. I watched him move, stiff and deliberate like he was approaching something unstable. He stopped just in front of me.
"Take it off."
My breath caught. "What?"
"The binder," he said. "Let's stop pretending. I want to see what's going on."
I stared at him, frozen. But I didn't run. I didn't argue. I unzipped my hoodie with slow, mechanical hands. Peeled it off. Stood tall even as shame filled my every cell. I showed Coach my round, full breasts.
Coach's gaze dropped. He flinched. Swallowed. "Jesus..." he muttered.
"Yeah," I said, jaw tight. "Still want to talk about distractions?"
He couldn't look at me. "And there are other changes right. The rumours are true?"
I looked down and could see his tracksuit pants were tenting. The air was crackling between us. I noticed how chiseled and masculine his face was. I realised how attractive he was. Anyone would want this stud inside them.
"You want me off the team," I said quietly, "because I make you hard."
His head snapped up, face flushing. "You're off the roster," he said, barely above a whisper. "Until further notice."
He immediately walked back to hide his boner behind his desk.
There it was. Everything I'd worked for was officially gone. I was no longer a jock. No longer one of the lads. The curse was ruining me.
I picked up my hoodie, slung it over my shoulder, and turned toward the door. "You can bench me," I said, voice flat. "But you won't be able to stop thinking about me. I know how this works." And then I left.
The second I stepped inside, the locker room hit me like a wave. Sweat, turf, old socks. Familiar. Safe. Mine. Except it wasn't anymore.
I dropped onto the bench like something broken, back against the cool metal of the lockers. The hoodie fell from my fingers. I pressed my head to the locker behind me and tried to breathe. Tried to remember who I was before all this. Football was the only thing that had ever made sense. Now it was all gone, because of a curse I didn't ask for. Because of Josh. Because of my damn vagina. Because my chest couldn't hide behind jerseys anymore and the team couldn't stop staring. My vision blurred. I wiped at my face fast.
"Jacks?" I looked up fast. Tyler stood in the doorway, helmet under one arm, curls damp with sweat. His eyes searched my face, and they softened the second he saw it, the way I couldn't hold myself up anymore.
I forced my voice to work. "Yeah." He walked in fast, crouching in front of me. "What happened?"
I looked away. "Coach benched me."
"What? Why?"
I just tugged at the front of my hoodie, pulled the fabric tight across my chest. He followed my eyes and got it instantly.
"Jesus," he muttered. "That's... that's bullshit. You're the best player on the team."
"I know." And I did. But it didn't matter.
He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug and kissing me tenderly. Not gonna lie - it definitely helped. I was truly falling for this guy. And I could feel his boner, already pressing up against me...
But then the door banged open again and we pulled apart.
"Aw, no way," Cody said, swaggering in like he'd missed nothing. "Princess got benched?"
I didn't even look at him. I couldn't.
"Cody," Tyler warned.
But Cody grinned. "What? Just saying. Coach probably just couldn't focus with Jacks' new rack bouncing down the sideline."
"Shut the fuck up!" Tyler snapped, standing.
Cody held up his hands. "Hey, I'm not judging. I'm distracted too. Look how fucking perky they are?" He pinched one of my nipples.
That did it. I stood, grabbed my hoodie, and turned away before they saw me break.
The door swung open again, this time letting in Bill and Danny.
"Yo," Danny called. "Coach wants us suited up. Let's move."
Bill's eyes widened when he saw me. "Wait... why aren't you dressed?"
"He's off the team," Tyler muttered.
"Shit," Danny muttered, whistling. "That's rough, man."
No one said anything for a while but I could tell nobody was particularly surprised. I sat back down hard. I couldn't stand. Couldn't move. I was just tired.
"You gonna be okay?" Tyler asked, quieter now.
I nodded. "Yeah. Go play."
He lingered for a second longer, then gave my shoulder a squeeze and walked away.
The others followed. One by one, the sound of their cleats echoed out the door, down the tunnel, and onto the field. Leaving me alone. I begrudgingly followed.
The sun was dipping low, throwing long shadows over the field. I sat on the bleachers, arms folded, hoodie zipped all the way up despite the sweat trickling down my spine. Below me, my teammates... former teammates... were stretching out into position. Running drills like nothing had changed. Like I hadn't changed.
I could see Tyler from here, his messy brown hair bouncing every time he jogged forward. He kept glancing up at me when he thought I wasn't looking. He looked worried. Like he wanted to be here with me. But he had a game to prep for. He had a team. I didn't.
"You OK?"
The voice caught me off guard. I looked to my left. Coach Branson stood behind me on the bleachers, hands on hips. His cap was pulled low, whistle hanging loosely from his neck. He wasn't barking orders like usual. Just... watching me.
I didn't answer. But I didn't tell him to leave either.
He walked up slowly and put his hand on my shoulder. He kept his eyes on the field. I kept mine on the horizon. "You're not the only one struggling with this, Jackson," he said eventually.
I didn't look at him. "I'm the only one benched."
He exhaled, long and heavy. "It's not about punishment."
"Yeah? What's it about, then?"
He hesitated. I could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. He shifted, as if to speak again, but then fell silent. His voice came low a moment later. Husky. "It's too much temptation."
Something in the way he said it made me finally glance at him. His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on the players below, but there was a flush creeping along the side of his neck.
I looked down and that tent was back in his tracksuit pants.
"You've always been one of the best I've coached," he said, and his voice cracked just a little as his hand drifted down to give one of my breasts a squeeze. "But you're... different now."
I gave a slight moan. The breeze picked up, rustling my long hair against my cheek. I swallowed hard. "You think I wanted this?" I asked.
He looked at me then. I could feel his eyes on the side of my face, lingering like they had back in his office but then his eyes drifted lower.
"Oh shit," he murmured.
I realised what he was looking at. I was sitting right on the back edge of the bleacher, and the way I was sitting meant my pants had pulled down a little... just enough to reveal a bit of ass crack. I don't know why I did it. I shouldn't have done it. But I shifted my ass back and lowered my pants a little further. Not all the way off. But just enough so that my pussy was hanging over the edge of the bench. I figured he may as well see it... he'd heard the rumours so why not confirm it?
The metal felt cool beneath my genitals and I shivered from the temperature. Or was it the anticipation?
I stared back at the field as he stood there in silence. I could hear his deep, heavy breaths as he struggled with what he wanted to do.
And then slowly... ever so slowly... he walked directly behind me and reached down, fingering my exposed cunt.
I moaned as I felt myself moistening, begging to be filled.
He slipped one digit inside me, then another, gently flicking my insides. He pulled them out, tasting my pussy juice on his fingers, with a satisfied sigh, before slipping them back inside me to gather up more of my fluids.
I noticed the flash of a wedding band on his finger. His wife clearly wasn't looking after his needs.
"You taste good, Wright." he whispered as he licked his fingers.
The team kept playing, completely oblivious to what was happening only a few feet away. My body effectively blocked him from view. It would have just looked to any bystander like he was standing behind me.
He pulled his fingers out again and then I felt it. His throbbing man cock. It rubbed up and down my inner labia, dripping pre-cum over my vaginal entrance, teasing me, tempting me. But he wasn't pushing it in.
"No," he whispered, struggling with his choice. "I can't... I'm married. I can't... I can't..."
But then he did. As I knew he would. As all men inevitably do when faced with my cursed cunt.
My eyes widened as I felt him penetrate me. Holy fuck! It felt as big as a baby's arm as it slowly speared into me. I was being fucked by the coach right in front of the whole oblivious team!
I kept watching Tyler... my boyfriend... on the field, totally clueless that I was being fucked by our coach. Coach put his hand on my hips as he softly groaned, slowly fucking me. We barely made a sound but that only made the feelings more intense as he found his erotic rhythm, pumping into me, stretching me open. His thrusts were slow but filled with manly power.
"What are you, Jacks?" he whispered in my ear as he used my body for his pleasure. "You can't get pregnant, can you?"
"I.... I.... don't know," I moaned, shuddering from pleasure.
His left hand discreetly slipped down from my hip to explore my clit, shooting electrical currents through my body. He was careful with his movements, hoping the boys wouldn't notice what we were up to.
"Oooohhhhh Cooooach," I groaned as he fucked me with the finesse and skill that only an older man could.
He kissed me gently on the back of my neck. I could feel him wanting to pull me around and fuck me properly but we were on high school grounds, totally out in the open. We had to be subtle.
Below us, whistles blew and the team started their sprint drills. Tyler's legs pumped like pistons, lean and strong. Cody shouted something and the guys laughed. Life went on.
Minutes passed as we gave into pure forbidden pleasure. But then, Danny looked over, watching us with a coy grin. Oh shit... was he working it out? Could he see what we were up to?
"Coach..." I warned, not wanting him to stop, but worried about where this might be leading. His thrusts were getting even harder, more intense. I had to cling onto the bleachers to stop myself from falling forwards as he hammered into me. I squeezed my pussy down on Coach's pole, determined to give him the best orgasm of his life. I suddenly felt hyper-competitive with his wife. I wanted to be better. Tighter. Hotter. And I could tell by the whimpers he was giving that I was succeeding!
"Shit... fuuuuck... I'm going to cum..." Coach Branson bellowed as his cock thickened and dumped a full creamy load of man milk deep inside me.
Just at that moment I heard the quick thud-thud-thud of cleats on metal stairs. Coach and I turned just as Danny came into view, huffing and puffing, sweat streaking down his temples from practice.
"Yo," he panted, with a grin of pure excitement. "Coach giving you hell?"
"Yeah," I muttered. "Something like that."
Coach Branson started to stammer a wordless response as he pulled his wet, deflating cock out of me but Danny just casually interrupted, "mind if I take over?"
"Uhh... sure..." Coach replied, pulling up his pants, watching in shock as Danny, already good to go, slid into me with one long thrust, using Coach's cum as lube.
"Mmmm... Mmmm... Ohhh... Fuckkkkkk... I missed this hole Jacks," Danny groaned in my ear as he went to work on my hole.
I gasped with every inward stab of his massive horse-cock. This wasn't the smooth, full thrusts of Coach. This was a horny teen anxious to get his nut off as quickly as possible.
"I.. um... I'll leave you guys to it," said Coach as he raced onto the field to try to focus on training.
"Thanks Coach," I called after him, genuinely enjoying having his married load inside me.
"Uhh... uh... ohh shit...god...damn...damn..." Danny stammered in my ear, not as worried about keeping it quiet as Coach.
Tyler looked over, I could see he was curious about what was going on in the bleachers but Coach quickly pulled him away, keeping him focused on training.
I looked over my shoulder to see Danny's thick cock battering into my cunt. "I'm not gonna last much longer, Jacks!" Danny warned after a few minutes of rapid fire pistoning. "AAAGRGGGHHH shit here it comes!!!!!"
And with that, he plunged into me as deep as he could go and started filling me with his reproductive juices. I felt his throbbing cock pulsing out one blast after another as he leaned on my back, settling back down from his orgasmic high. By this point, it seemed the guys were all conspiring to have their moment with me while Tyler was stuck on the field with Coach keeping him busy with training because as soon as Danny pulled out, Bill was taking his place, sliding his cock into me.
"Don't worry, Jacks." Bill gasped as he gave into the pleasure my pussy gave him. "You'll always be part of the team."
Cody was next. Of course he was. He walked up like he owned the whole damn stadium... cocky grin, towel slung around his neck, not a bead of sweat on him even though he'd just finished a sprint.
"Look at you," he said, voice slick as he watched Bill pounding me from behind. "You always had an ass on you. Now you're halfway to being a tight end and a cheerleader."
I didn't answer. I didn't have the energy.
"You know, the view's not so bad from up here," he said after a pause. We both looked down at Tyler sweating with exertion, a world away on the field.
Cody brought his lips close to my ear as Bill kept hammering me. "You prefer it, don't you? Being like this?"
That made me flinch. "Go back to the field, Cody."
Cody leaned closer. I could feel the heat of him, the cocky smirk he wore like a second jersey. "You think I haven't noticed? The way you've changed? It's not just the breasts. It's the way you move now. The way you breathe. Like your whole body's humming." He was too close. Too much. And I hated the part of me that wasn't pulling away fast enough.
"Tyler's watching," I said, almost a whisper.
"I know," Cody said, eyes flicking down to my lips. "He always does. But he's stuck on the field." His mouth brushed mine before I could speak. It wasn't a full kiss, not at first. Just a test. A spark to see if I'd flinch. If I would pull away. And I should have. But I didn't. Because the heat of it was intoxicating. Forbidden. So I let him. His lips pressed harder. His hand slid around my waist, slow and firm, and I could feel him trembling, not with nerves, but need. I kissed him back. It burned through me like lightning.
At that moment, Bill, who by this point had been fucking me roughly for a good ten minutes, rammed his cock in hard one more time and moaned loudly as he added his baby batter to the other loads accumulating in my womb. Thick white cum was, by this point, dripping out of my hole onto the concrete. I tried to squeeze my hole shut to keep it all in as Bill pulled his hog out.
Cody moved around behind me, fingering my tender, cum-dripping cunt. "That hole is looking sloppy as fuck. I might try something different if it's all the same with you, Jacks."
He started smearing those loads of jizz all over my anal pucker.
I tensed up. "Wait, Cody! What are you doing?"
He spat on his cock, saturating it fully before he lined it up against my asshole. "C'mon, Jacks. We've come this far. What's a little butt sex between buddies?" \
And with that, his flared cockhead penetrated my anal ring! Once again, Cody was taking another one of my virginities away from me! The pain was unbearable as my sphincter muscles clamped down, trying to force him out but Cody just paused for a moment.
"Relax," he whispered as he nibbled on my ear, before sliding his cock deeper up my expanding chute. I had never felt so full. I was just a human fuck doll at this point and all I could do was give into the pleasure of it all.
"You love it, don't you? You love my cock. Say it!"
"Yes, Cody." I hissed between gritted teeth. "I love it. Fuck me!"
He pulverized my ring, pounding into it over and over and over. All subtlety was gone at this point as he wrapped one hand around my waist, the other squeezing one of my tits as he butt-fucked me like I was his sex slave... and I guess at this moment, I was!
Tyler watched me helplessly from the field, pain in his eyes, as he watched his boyfriend get fucked by the entire team. I wanted to go to him and tell him it didn't mean anything. I didn't mean to succumb like this - it was a curse! But I was too caught in the moment to move. I had Cody's massive penis deep in my colon!!
I could feel my body reacting to his cock. A tingle that started in my guts and slowly spread outwards, down my limbs, making me feel like my skull was about to lift off my body. And then my rectal muscles clenched down on Cody's pole as we simultaneously came.
"AAAHHHH!!!" he groaned as he pumped a load of white hot sperm deep into my guts. He twisted my face around so he could stick his tongue deep down my throat, pumping his saliva into my mouth, as he claimed his territory. And I let him. I just let him.
Then he slowly pulled away. He looked at me a beat longer, eyes dragging over me in a way that made my stomach twist, not in the way I used to feel before a play, but colder. Then he gave a little shrug, like it didn't matter, and sauntered back down.
I stared after him, jaw tight, until the next set of cleats arrived.
"Hey, man." It was quieter this time. Softer. Tyler's voice. Except... no. Not him. I turned, heart jumping, but it was just his voice echoing from the field, calling out to a teammate. He couldn't come. But someone else had.
It was Marcus, our second-string safety. He'd never had much to say to me before, always hung around Cody more than anyone. But he looked nervous now, like approaching me was harder than any tackle. "Can I...?"
I nodded, lips pressed together. His teen cock slid into me easily, slicked up with all that teen seed. I was grateful he had returned to my pussy and that nobody else was going to fuck my poor battered asshole.
One by one, they kept coming.
A pounding from Casey.
A rabbit-fuck from Darnell.
Benji laughed with pleasure the whole time he used my hole.
Each of them climbing up to hit my home base before sprinting back to their real world, the one I wasn't part of anymore. And Tyler? Still stuck down there, eyes on me between every rep. Every time the whistle blew, his head jerked up, watching helplessly. I wanted nothing more than to run down there and pull him into a hug and tell him none of this mattered. But I couldn't.
As the training came to a close and every player had dumped a load into me (bar Tyler), they all jogged back to the change room. Tyler didn't look at me as he disappeared down the corridor.
Coach Branson walked over. He looked at me for a long time as I pulled up my pants over my tender, dripping holes. There was something in his eyes I hadn't seen before... not just regret. Not just guilt. Something deeper. Something messier. I knew at some point he'd be wanting my hole again. Then he stood, straightened his cap, and walked away, just as the sun dipped below the trees, leaving me sitting in the shadow of everything I used to be.
TO BE CONTINUED
