Pinned Under A College Jock

Jake's ordeal ended as swiftly as it had started. The Jock on top of him was suddenly gone. He was free at last, he could see again, breathe in fresh air and control his own movements.

As he sat up on the bench, Jake saw his tormentor briefly, he couldn't see his face in the dark, but he could see the lad had a hard on.

Jake was stunned, there was his tormentor, casually strolling back towards the beer tent, hands in pockets , stroking his cock.

This guy was in no hurry, he wasn't running from the scene. He didn't even look back to see if Jake was chasing after him, for revenge. Why would he worry? He had easily dominated Jake , all night and seemed to enjoy it!

Jake was outmatched, a counter attack was futile. Even at a distance, the Jock's broad muscular shoulders and back, were imposing. Instead Jake focused on clearing his head and getting back to his dorm, in one piece.

Sam was waiting in the Dorm:

'Where have you been, your gone hours Jake'? 'I had a fight with that Lad from the tent''His friend chased me Jake, threw a few punches, but I got away, big fucker he was''Yeah, Sam this lad was one of the red head football lads, he tried to wrestle me but I beat him''Im wrecked now, see you tomorrow, Sam'

Jake couldn't sleep, his ego was bruised, he had been owned and humiliated and yet he was excited, thinking about his dominator getting hard.

He replayed every moment: the pressure, weight, strength and muscularity on top of him, his cockiness, his spit, his smell, his crotch.

With each memory, Jake's cock expanded. He wrestled to control it, forcing jets of cum over his chest and into his face.

Finally, Jake had it under control and wiped his face, with a gym sock. It didn't take him long to fall into a deep sleep.

He woke in pain, his cock was hard to breaking point. Jake looked down at himself, it was maybe 7 inches hard normally, but now, it was stretched to 8 or 9. It looked muscular, veiny, it's head was red and throbbing. Jake attacked it with both hands, locking his feet together and pushing his legs wide, until it exploded with cum.

It landed everywhere, on Jake, in his trainers, his bed, over his dumbbells. He had never felt such pleasure.

Jake was running late, he had a lecture in ten minutes. Grabbing his t shirt, shorts, socks and cum stained trainers, he jumped on his bike and headed to college.

He couldn't concentrate at the lecture or didn't focus on much else. He was driven by one desire, to find his tormentor.

There were a few clues: he was a red head, muscular, stocky, spoke with a Galway accent and wore a football team member shirt.

Jake figured the college gym would be a good place to start. He could see when the team practiced and go from there.

A few weeks passed and there was no sign of the Jock. It was out of season and there had been no football practice.

Jake was obsessed by him and had to cum, three or four times a day, to satisfy his lust.

He had just finished a workout and was sitting on the steps outside the gym, drinking his shake, when he heard a familiar voice: 

'Im getting in a bit training pre season, it will be good to get matches again'.

The Jock was with a group of other team members, chatting, walking up the stairs to the gym. Jake's eye was drawn to his muscular legs, right in his eyeline: brick like calf muscle with red rough hair and boulder thighs above.

The smell was familiar, Jake knew it well.