I'd wanted to do something with another guy for a long time. But that just wasn't something that happened in a small town like Riverside, and I didn't think it ever would. My dad, Coach Harrison, made damn sure of that. He ran the local men's rugby team like it was the fucking Marines, all discipline and testosterone and proving you were a real man. Which is probably why he made me the towel boy—thought being around all these middle-aged guys would "man me up" or some shit.
The thing was, I didn't think I was gay. I mean, I'd jerked off to girls before. Plenty of times. But there was something about watching these guys in the locker room after practice that made my cock harder than any porn ever had. The way they moved, all confidence and swagger. The way they stripped down without a second thought, their bodies thick and powerful and covered in dark hair that glistened with sweat.
I was eighteen, skinny as hell, maybe five-foot-seven on a good day. My dad hated how I looked—too soft, too pretty, too feminine. He'd catch me looking in the mirror sometimes and just shake his head like I was the biggest disappointment of his life. "You need to bulk up, Chance," he'd say. "Stop looking like a goddamn girl."
But I couldn't help how I looked. Smooth skin, narrow hips, a face that people said was "delicate." The guys on the team mostly ignored me, which was fine. I preferred it that way. Meant I could watch them without anyone noticing.
It was a Thursday evening, late September. Practice had run long because Dad was pissed about their performance last weekend. The team had lost badly, and he'd made them run drills until half of them were ready to puke. By the time they stumbled into the locker room, they were drenched in sweat, their jerseys clinging to broad chests and thick arms.
I busied myself collecting dirty towels, trying not to stare too obviously as they stripped down. There were about fifteen guys on the team, all between thirty-five and fifty. Most of them were married, had kids, worked regular jobs during the week. But on Thursday nights and Saturday mornings, they got to pretend they were still young and invincible.
Marcus Chen was the first one into the showers. He was forty-two, a cop with the Riverside PD, and built like a fucking tank. Six-foot-three, maybe two-forty, with shoulders so broad he had to turn sideways to get through some doors. His chest was covered in thick black hair that spread across his pecs and down his abs, disappearing into the waistband of his shorts before he stripped them off. His thighs were massive, corded with muscle from years of rugby and gym work.
I'd seen Marcus naked plenty of times, but it never got old. His cock hung heavy between his legs, thick even soft, nestled in a dense forest of black pubic hair. His balls were huge, low-hanging, covered in the same dark hair. Everything about him screamed dominance, power, authority.
Derek Morrison followed him into the showers a minute later. He was younger than most of the guys, maybe thirty-five, a former college linebacker who'd blown out his knee and ended up working construction. He was six-foot-one, two-twenty, with a body that was all hard muscle and bulk. His chest was broad and hairy, covered in light brown fur that matched the thick beard on his face. His arms were massive, biceps the size of my thighs, and his legs were tree trunks of solid muscle.
Derek's cock was impressive too—not as thick as Marcus's maybe, but longer, a good eight inches soft, uncut, with a fat head that peeked out from the foreskin. His balls hung heavy and full, swaying as he walked toward the showers.
Most of the other guys were still getting undressed, talking shit and laughing about the practice. I grabbed an armful of towels and headed toward the laundry room, which was just off the main locker area. That's when I heard it.
A low groan, deep and masculine, coming from the showers.
I froze, my heart suddenly pounding. The showers were around a corner, out of sight from the main locker room. Most of the guys were still getting undressed, and Dad was in his office doing paperwork. I should have just kept walking, minded my own business.
But I didn't.
I set the towels down quietly and crept toward the corner, my sneakers silent on the tile floor. The sound of running water covered any noise I made. As I got closer, I could hear more—heavy breathing, another groan, the wet slap of skin on skin.
I peeked around the corner.
Holy fuck.
Marcus and Derek were in the far shower stall, the one with the broken curtain that nobody used. Marcus had his back against the tile wall, his head tilted back, water streaming down his massive hairy chest. His cock was fully hard now, jutting out from his body like a fucking weapon—had to be nine inches at least, thick as my wrist, with a fat mushroom head that was dark red and glistening.
Derek was standing next to him, his own cock hard and dripping, his hand wrapped around Marcus's thick shaft, stroking it slowly. His face was flushed, his eyes locked on Marcus's cock like he was hypnotized.
"That's it," Marcus growled, his voice low and rough. "Stroke that cock, Derek. You know you want it."
"Fuck, man," Derek breathed, his hand moving faster. "This is so fucked up."
"You didn't think it was fucked up when you had that fag suck your dick behind the bar last month," Marcus said, reaching down to grab Derek's cock. "You told me all about it, remember? How good his mouth felt?"
Derek groaned, his hips jerking forward into Marcus's grip. "That was different."
"How?" Marcus's hand moved in long, slow strokes, his thick fingers wrapped around Derek's shaft. "A mouth is a mouth. A hole is a hole."
I couldn't breathe. My cock was rock hard in my shorts, pressing painfully against the fabric. I'd never seen anything like this—two grown men, married men, jerking each other off in the showers like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Marcus's other hand came up to Derek's chest, fingers digging into the thick hair there, finding a nipple and twisting it. Derek gasped, his whole body shuddering.
"You like that, don't you?" Marcus's voice was pure dominance, commanding. "You like it when I play with your tits."
"Fuck," Derek moaned. "Marcus, we can't—"
"We already are," Marcus cut him off, his hand moving faster on Derek's cock. "And you're gonna come all over my hand like the horny bastard you are."
I must have made a noise—a gasp, a whimper, something—because suddenly both of them froze. Marcus's head snapped toward me, his dark eyes locking onto mine. For a second, nobody moved. The only sound was the water hitting the tile.
Then Derek saw me. His face went white, then bright red. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—"
He tried to pull away, but Marcus's hand tightened on his cock, holding him in place. Marcus's expression didn't change. He just stared at me, his jaw tight, his eyes calculating.
"Well," he said slowly. "Looks like we've got an audience."
Derek was panicking now, trying to cover himself with his hands. "Marcus, let go, we need to—"
"We need to what?" Marcus released Derek's cock and stepped forward, water streaming down his massive body. His cock was still rock hard, bobbing with each step. "Run? Pretend this didn't happen?"
He walked right past me, completely naked, water dripping onto the floor. I heard the click of the locker room door locking. My stomach dropped.
"Marcus, what the fuck are you doing?" Derek's voice was high, scared.
Marcus walked back into view, his expression calm. Too calm. "Relax, Derek. The kid's not gonna say anything. Are you, Chance?"
My mouth was dry. I couldn't speak. Marcus took another step closer, and I could smell him—sweat and soap and something else, something masculine and overwhelming.
"Your dad's the coach," Marcus continued, his voice conversational. "Real hardass. Real... traditional. Bet he wouldn't be too happy to hear his son was spying on guys in the shower. Might start asking questions. Like why you were watching. What you were thinking about."
"I wasn't—" My voice cracked. "I didn't mean to—"
"Sure you didn't." Marcus's smile was cold. "Just like Derek didn't mean to get his cock sucked by that guy behind O'Malley's. Just like I didn't mean to jerk him off just now. Shit happens, right?"
Derek was still in the shower, his cock starting to soften, his face a mask of terror. "Marcus, we should just let him go. He won't say anything."
"Oh, I know he won't," Marcus said. "Because if he does, I'll make sure everyone knows what he saw. And then I'll make sure his daddy knows his pretty little boy was getting hard watching two men touch each other."
I looked down. My cock was tenting my shorts, obvious and humiliating. Marcus laughed, a low, dark sound.
"See? Kid's a fucking fag, just like his daddy's afraid of." Marcus reached down and adjusted his cock, which was still mostly hard. "You know what, Derek? I think we should give him what he wants."
"What?" Derek's voice was strangled. "No. No way, man. He's the coach's son—"
"And he's not gonna say shit," Marcus interrupted. "Because if he does, I'll tell Coach Harrison I caught his son jerking off in the locker room, watching us shower. I'll tell him I think his boy's got a problem. Might even suggest he needs some... professional help."
The threat hung in the air. My dad would lose his mind. He'd send me to one of those conversion therapy places, or kick me out, or worse.
"Please," I whispered. "I won't say anything. I swear."
"I know you won't," Marcus said. "But I want to make sure we're all on the same page here. You like watching, Chance? You like seeing Derek's big cock?"
I didn't answer. Couldn't answer.
Marcus grabbed my shoulder, his grip iron-hard. "I asked you a question, boy."
"Yes," I breathed.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I... I liked watching."
Marcus's smile widened. "Good. Then you're gonna do more than watch." He turned to Derek. "You remember what you told me about that fag? How good he sucked your cock?"
Derek's face was bright red. "Marcus, come on—"
"You said it was the best head you ever got," Marcus continued. "Better than your wife, better than any of those bar sluts. You said you'd been thinking about it ever since."
"I was drunk," Derek protested weakly.
"You were honest," Marcus corrected. "And now you've got a chance to get that feeling again. Fresh young mouth, tight little body. And the best part? He can't say no."
My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't real.
But Marcus's hand on my shoulder was real. The lock on the door was real. Derek's half-hard cock, starting to swell again despite his protests, was real.
"On your knees, Chance," Marcus ordered.
I looked at Derek, hoping he'd stop this, but he was just staring at me with a mixture of fear and hunger. His cock was definitely getting harder now, rising up from the nest of light brown pubic hair, the foreskin sliding back to reveal the fat pink head.
"I said on your knees." Marcus's hand pushed down on my shoulder, and my legs gave out. The tile was cold and wet under my knees.
Derek took a step forward, his cock now fully hard, pointing right at my face. It was even bigger up close—had to be nine inches, thick and veiny, with a slight upward curve. His balls hung heavy below, covered in the same light brown hair, swaying slightly as he moved.
"Marcus, I don't know about this," Derek said, but his hand was already moving to his cock, stroking it slowly.
"You know exactly what this is," Marcus said. He moved behind Derek, his own massive cock pressing against Derek's ass. "It's what you've been wanting since that night behind the bar. Another mouth on your cock. Another chance to feel that good."
Marcus's hands came around Derek's body, one grabbing his cock, the other playing with his nipples. Derek groaned, his hips jerking forward.
"Look at him," Marcus whispered in Derek's ear, loud enough for me to hear. "Look at that pretty face. Those soft lips. You know he wants it. You can see it in his eyes."
I did want it. God help me, I did. My cock was so hard it hurt, and I couldn't stop staring at Derek's thick shaft, the way it pulsed in Marcus's grip, the bead of precum forming at the tip.
"Open your mouth, Chance," Marcus commanded.
I opened my mouth.
"Wider."
I opened wider, my jaw already starting to ache.
Marcus guided Derek's cock toward my face. The head touched my lips, hot and slick with precum. The taste exploded on my tongue—salty, musky, masculine. I moaned without meaning to.
"That's it," Marcus growled. "Suck that cock, boy. Show Derek what that pretty mouth can do."
I wrapped my lips around the head, my tongue swirling around the ridge. Derek groaned, his hands coming down to grip my hair. His cock pushed deeper into my mouth, stretching my lips, filling me up. I could taste more precum now, coating my tongue, and I swallowed it eagerly.
"Fuck," Derek breathed. "Oh fuck, that's good."
"Told you," Marcus said. His hands were still on Derek's body, one stroking the base of his cock while I sucked the head, the other pinching and twisting his nipples. "Better than your wife, right?"
"So much better," Derek admitted, his hips starting to thrust. "Fuck, Marcus, his mouth is so hot."
I took more of him, trying to relax my throat, but he was so thick I could barely get half of it in. I gagged, pulling back, saliva dripping down my chin.
"Easy," Marcus said, but I didn't know if he was talking to me or Derek. "Let him work up to it. Kid's never done this before, have you, Chance?"
I shook my head, Derek's cock still in my mouth.
"Virgin mouth," Marcus said with satisfaction. "Even better. Go on, boy. Suck those balls. Show Derek you know how to worship a real man's cock."
I pulled off Derek's shaft and moved lower, nuzzling into the thick hair at the base of his cock. His balls were huge, heavy and full, and I took one into my mouth, rolling it on my tongue. Derek's whole body shuddered.
"Holy shit," he gasped. "Marcus, he's—fuck—"
"He's a natural," Marcus finished. "Knew he would be. Look at him, so eager to please."
I moved to the other ball, sucking it gently, then licking the seam between them. Derek's cock was rock hard now, slapping against my face, leaving trails of precum on my cheek. I went back to the shaft, licking up the underside, tracing the thick vein that ran from base to tip.
That's when I heard the click.
I looked up. Marcus had his phone out, pointed right at me, recording.
"What the fuck, Marcus?" Derek tried to pull away, but Marcus's hand tightened on his cock.
"Insurance," Marcus said calmly. "Just making sure everyone remembers the rules. You don't talk, Derek. And you definitely don't talk, Chance. Because if anyone says anything, this video goes straight to Coach Harrison. And then everyone in this town knows his precious son is a cocksucker."
Tears pricked at my eyes, but I didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Marcus was still filming, and Derek's cock was still hard in my mouth, and I was so turned on I thought I might come in my shorts without even touching myself.
"That's it," Marcus encouraged, moving the camera to get a better angle. "Take that cock, boy. Show Daddy what you learned."
I sucked harder, taking Derek deeper, my nose pressing into the thick hair at his base. I could feel his cock hitting the back of my throat, making me gag, but I didn't care. I wanted more. Wanted all of it.
Marcus put the phone down on a bench, still recording, and moved behind Derek. I could see his massive cock, still rock hard, pressing between Derek's ass cheeks. Derek tensed.
"Relax," Marcus murmured, his hands sliding around to Derek's chest, fingers digging into the thick hair there. "Just gonna make you feel good."
He started grinding against Derek's ass, his cock sliding between those muscular cheeks, while his hands played with Derek's nipples. Derek moaned, his cock swelling even more in my mouth, and I could taste more precum flooding my tongue.
"You like that, don't you?" Marcus's voice was low, hypnotic. "Like having your ass played with while you get your cock sucked. Bet you've thought about it. Bet you've jerked off thinking about having a cock in your ass."
"No," Derek protested, but his body was saying something different. His hips were moving now, fucking my mouth while pushing back against Marcus's cock.
"Liar," Marcus said, pinching Derek's nipples hard. Derek cried out, his cock pulsing in my mouth. "You want it. You've always wanted it. That's why you let that guy suck you off. That's why you're here now, letting me touch you, letting this boy worship your cock."
Marcus's hands moved lower, one wrapping around Derek's cock along with my mouth, the other sliding down to cup his balls. He squeezed gently, and Derek's whole body shuddered.
"You're gonna fuck him," Marcus said. It wasn't a question. "You're gonna put this big cock in that tight little ass and fuck him like you fuck those bar sluts you're always bragging about."
"Marcus, I can't—"
"You can," Marcus interrupted. "And you will. Because if you don't, I'm gonna tell everyone about that guy behind the bar. Gonna tell your wife, your buddies, everyone. Gonna make sure they all know Derek Morrison likes getting his cock sucked by men."
Derek's resistance crumbled. I could feel it in the way his body relaxed, the way his cock got even harder in my mouth.
"Okay," he whispered. "Okay, fuck, I'll do it."
Marcus smiled, triumphant. "Good boy. Now pull out of his mouth. Let's get him ready."
Derek's cock slipped from my lips with a wet pop. I gasped for air, my jaw aching, saliva and precum dripping down my chin. Marcus grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet, then bent me over one of the benches. My shorts were yanked down, exposing my ass.
"Virgin?" Marcus asked, his hand sliding between my cheeks.
"Yes," I gasped.
"Perfect." I heard the sound of a locker opening, then the crinkle of a wrapper. "Derek, suit up. Don't want to knock up the coach's son on your first time."
I heard Derek groan, then felt his hands on my hips. The head of his cock pressed against my hole, and I tensed.
"Relax," Marcus ordered. "Push out like you're taking a shit. It'll hurt less."
I tried to relax, but Derek was so thick. The head pushed past my ring, and I cried out at the burning stretch. It hurt. God, it hurt so much.
"Stop," I gasped. "Please, it's too much—"
"You can take it," Marcus said. He was standing in front of me now, his massive cock right in my face. "Open up, boy. Give that mouth something to do while Derek opens up your ass."
I opened my mouth, and Marcus shoved his cock inside. It was even thicker than Derek's, stretching my lips obscenely. I could taste his precum, thick and salty, coating my tongue.
Derek pushed deeper, and I screamed around Marcus's cock. The pain was intense, overwhelming, but there was something else too—a fullness, a pressure that was almost good.
"That's it," Derek groaned. "Fuck, he's so tight. So fucking tight."
"Keep going," Marcus ordered. "Get all the way in. Make him feel it."
Derek pushed deeper, inch by inch, until I could feel his balls pressing against mine. He was all the way inside me, his thick cock stretching me open, filling me completely.
"Now fuck him," Marcus said. "Nice and slow at first. Let him get used to it."
Derek started moving, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. Each thrust sent shocks of pain and pleasure through my body. I moaned around Marcus's cock, my own cock dripping precum onto the floor.
"Good boy," Marcus praised, his hand tangling in my hair. "Taking that cock so well. Knew you were made for this."
Derek's thrusts got faster, harder. I could hear the slap of his hips against my ass, the wet sounds of his cock moving in and out of me. He was grunting with each thrust, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise.
"Fuck, Marcus," Derek groaned. "I'm not gonna last. He's too tight."
"Then don't last," Marcus said. "Fill that condom up. Show him what a real man's load feels like."
Derek's thrusts became erratic, desperate. I could feel his cock swelling inside me, and then he was coming, his whole body going rigid, a long groan tearing from his throat. His cock pulsed inside me, and even through the condom I could feel the heat of his cum.
He pulled out slowly, and I felt empty, used. But Marcus wasn't done.
"My turn," he said, pulling his cock from my mouth. "But first..."
He grabbed the condom from Derek's cock and held it up. It was full of cum, white and thick. But there was something wrong with it—a tear near the tip.
"Looks like it broke," Marcus said, his voice full of dark amusement. "Guess some of Derek's load is already inside you, boy."
Derek's face went white. "Fuck. Marcus, we need to—"
"Need to what?" Marcus cut him off. "It's already done. And besides, he's a virgin. Not like he's got anything to give us."
He tossed the broken condom aside and positioned himself behind me. His cock was even bigger than Derek's, and I didn't know if I could take it.
"Please," I whimpered. "It's too big."
"You'll take it," Marcus said. "Because you don't have a choice."
He pushed inside, and I screamed. The stretch was incredible, painful, overwhelming. He was so thick, so long, filling me in ways I didn't know were possible. I could feel every inch of him, every vein, the ridge of his head dragging against my insides.
"Fuck yes," Marcus groaned. "Tightest ass I've ever had. Better than my wife, better than any pussy."
He started fucking me hard, no warm-up, no mercy. Each thrust drove the air from my lungs, made me see stars. His balls slapped against mine, heavy and full, and I could feel the thick hair on his thighs scratching against my smooth skin.
"Derek, get over here," Marcus ordered. "Put that cock in his mouth. Keep him quiet."
Derek hesitated, but Marcus's glare made him move. His cock was already getting hard again, and he pressed it against my lips. I opened automatically, taking him inside, tasting the latex and cum and my own ass on his shaft.
They fucked me from both ends, using me like a toy, like I was nothing but holes for their pleasure. Marcus's cock was relentless, pounding into me so hard the bench was scraping across the floor. Derek's cock filled my mouth, muffling my moans and cries.
"Gonna breed this boy," Marcus grunted. "Gonna fill him up with my cum. Mark him as mine."
"Marcus, you can't—" Derek started, but Marcus cut him off.
"Shut up and fuck his mouth," Marcus snarled. "I'm gonna do whatever I want. And he's gonna take it. Aren't you, Chance?"
I couldn't answer with Derek's cock in my mouth, but I nodded. I was so far gone now, so overwhelmed with sensation, that I didn't care anymore. I just wanted them to use me, to fill me, to make me theirs.
Marcus's thrusts got harder, faster, more desperate. I could feel his cock swelling inside me, getting even thicker, and then he was coming. His cum flooded my insides, hot and thick, so much of it that I could feel it leaking out around his cock, dripping down my thighs.
"Fuck yes," Marcus roared. "Take it, boy. Take all of Daddy's cum."
He kept thrusting, fucking his cum deeper inside me, until finally he pulled out. I felt it gush out of me, running down my legs, pooling on the floor.
Derek pulled out of my mouth and started stroking his cock frantically. "Where do you want it?" he gasped.
"On his face," Marcus said. "Mark him up. Show him what he is."
Derek groaned and came, his cum shooting across my face, hitting my cheeks, my lips, my forehead. It was hot and thick, and I could taste it on my tongue.
Marcus grabbed his phone and took a picture. "Perfect," he said. "Absolutely perfect."
Derek was already pulling on his clothes, his face red with shame and panic. "I gotta go," he muttered. "I gotta get out of here."
"Go," Marcus said dismissively. "I'll clean up."
Derek practically ran from the locker room, leaving me bent over the bench, covered in cum, Marcus's seed still leaking from my ass.
Marcus walked around to face me, his cock still semi-hard, glistening with cum and my ass. He grabbed my hair and tilted my face up.
"You did good, boy," he said. "Real good. And you're gonna do it again."
"What?" I whispered.
"Next week," Marcus said. "Away game. I'll be in the locker room after. And you're gonna be there too. Understand?"
I nodded, too exhausted and overwhelmed to argue.
Marcus smiled and stroked his cock, getting it hard again. He aimed it at my face and started jerking off, his hand moving in long, slow strokes.
"Open your mouth," he ordered.
I opened my mouth, and he came again, his cum shooting onto my tongue, my lips, mixing with Derek's load. It was so much, coating my face, dripping down my chin.
"Good boy," Marcus said, tucking his cock away. "Clean yourself up. And remember—you say anything, and everyone sees the video."
He unlocked the door and left, leaving me alone in the locker room, covered in cum, my ass leaking, my whole body aching.
I'd wanted to do something with another guy for a long time.
Now I had.
And I knew it was only the beginning.
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