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 02-04-2018
Constructive input and/or encouragement is welcome at scoffin.2814@gmail.com. Flames will be ignored. I do hope you enjoy this story.
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A Coach's Tale 7: Garappolo to the Rescue
Prologue
Kyle Shanahan was not entirely sure how he found himself in this particular position. He knew the generalities of it all, even remembered some of the conversations that had led to this point, but it was still all a little confusing for him. Part of that confusion was surely due to the fact that his quarterback was something of an enigma. Sure Jimmy Garappolo had brought some serious hope with his move to San Francisco, but given the very real possibility that he might not be here next year, things had seemed to move along in a way that allowed some mystery to remain for the men on both sides of the equation.
Shanahan knew that the QB wanted to stay, hoped to come to terms with the niner's, and Garappolo knew that the head coach wanted that as well, but in the NFL of the 21st century it was never a guarantee that the willingness to strike a deal would be quite enough to make one actually happen. Even after the way Jimmy had closed out the season with 5 big wins might not be enough to justify the stud QB's worth in the eyes of the money men.
It was those 5 wins, 3 against teams that made the playoffs, that led to the other branch of confusion for the head coach. He knew that when Garappolo had hinted about 'deserving a reward' that he could not deny the 26 year old former Patriot anything. The fact that it would all be on the table, coupled with not knowing how Jimmy would manage the feast, had made Kyle apprehensive, but resigned. The quarterback had most likely bought the coach another year of rebuilding, the quarterback would get whatever reward he wished.
The fact that the wish included Shanahan being surprised, overpowered, gagged and tied to a sturdy but uncomfortable chair in a small exam room at the stadium? The fact that the wish required Jimmy Garappolo to have enlisted the assistance of wide receiver Pierre Garcon? These were wild cards that Kyle Shanahan had not even considered, let alone had any chance of rationalizing.
Still, the feel of his long, hard cock pulsing against the slick fabric of his nylon shell pants in time with his heartbeat at the sight before him. The copious wads of spit he kept having to remind himself to swallow behind the gag, lest he drown himself. The powerful eroticism of the jock coupling he was witnessing holding his attention as he raked his eyes along the tableau of naked, sweaty stud flesh not quite four feet in front of him. This allowed him to ride the wave of horned up confusion toward whatever conclusion his quarterback was going to allow.
Part 1
For the past ten minutes, Kyle Shanahan had watched the subtle shifts and grinds that rippled through Jimmy Garappolo's 6'2" frame as the butt naked quarterback lay face down on the exam table. Had watched the powerful black hands of Pierre Garcon shifting over and around the thighs, hips and glutes, contrasting sharply with the tanned, glistening flesh. The wide receiver's handsome, bearded face pressed tightly between the quarterback's butt cheeks. From the top end of the exam table, the head coach let his gaze travel slowly along. Jimmy's dark, silky hair showing signs of damp as the player began to sweat, head turning to and fro at the deft ministrations of Pierre's tongue. Invariably another wad of spit would need to be sucked back by the coach, another pulse rocketing through his shaft would scrape the sensitive flesh of his crown against the nylon, each time the quarterback's head came to rest facing him, the two mens eyes locking for a few seconds at a time.
Shanahan had never seen anybody get off on being rimmed in quite the same way as Garappolo was now. The moaning pleas that periodically slipped from between his full lips echoed through the coach's feverish brain well after they had faded from the room. The undulating waves that seemed to flow downward from the quarterback's broad, muscular shoulders and along his spine to the very small of his back brought phantom shivers rippling through Shanahan's own, bound body.
Every so often, the ripples sliding along the quarterback's long, lean body turned into more threatening tremors, and the jock stud's bubble butt rose off the table far enough to offer the coach a fleeting glimpse of obviously hard cock in the scant inches of space. Above and beside that space, the powerful darkness of Pierre's powerful hands and long fingers dug into the muscular flesh of the prostrate Jimmy. As those hands and fingers shifted their position, bright white circles ringed with pink would flash on the quarterback's skin, fading slowly into new spots with every movement of the wide receiver's hands. The whispering moans; the quiet, gasping pleadings let the world know that both jocks were exactly where they wanted to be right now. The murmurs of 'yeah', 'fuck, man', 'mmhhmm' were the only remotely human sounds in the room since the ball gag had been slipped into Shanahan's mouth.
From where Pierre Garcon's lips and tongue locked onto Jimmy Garappolo's muscular ass, Kyle Shanahan let his gaze slide down toward the floor. Along the powerful upper body of the wide receiver, taking in the bulging musculature of the 31 year old vet, to the equally powerful legs as Pierre half knelt, half bent behind Jimmy. The jutting shelf of the black stud's ass was a work of art carved by a Renaissance master, as he shifted his gaze to the athlete's front side, the coach's eyes came to rest on what was an undeniably miraculous sight. Shanahan had witnessed the power of Garcon's cock several times before, but he was always unprepared for the lustful cravings it caused him. Nine proud, thick inches hung heavily, bobbing in front of the stud jock languidly. To the untrained eye, it would not appear to be completely hard, but the coach knew better. Kyle knew for sure that Pierre's cock was rock hard at the moment, and would most likely be searingly hot to the touch, the weight of the jock stick was enough though, coupled with the full, massive nut sack attached to it, to keep it from angling upward closer to the stud's body. The visual might have been seen as somehow 'less than' to some, but to the coach, the knowledge he was privileged with made the sight that much hotter.
Kyle Shanahan felt the fool when he realized that he was pressing his tongue desperately against the ball gag between his teeth in time to the shifting muscles along Garcon's throat as the coach tried to transport himself into the black stud's position. Tried to taste the acrid, musky tang of Jimmy Garappolo. Tried to feel the balking and clamping of the quarterback's sphincter snapping down on his tongue. Even as he knew that the wide receiver was the one getting all the glory at the moment.
The coach's eyes widened at the shifting movements of his players. The quarterback now sliding himself upward, bringing his knees under his leanly muscled body, to raise his ass further away from the exam table and harder against the wide receiver's face. Light played off the rippling muscles shifting under the black skin of Pierre Garcon as he dug his palms and fingers deeper into Jimmy Garappolo's muscular flanks. The sound tearing through the room came as a shock to all three horned up men, even the one who it came from. More like a scream than a moan as it forced it's way around the ball gag in his mouth and loosed by the quaking lust ripping through his entire body, Kyle Shanahan was mesmerized by the grinding rut before him.
The stud quarterback caught his head coach's gaze as he brought his hands off the table, moving himself into a full kneeling position. Jimmy reached behind himself and wrapped both of his hands around Pierre's skull, pulling the wide receiver's face tighter against his jock ass, even as he pushed himself harder back against the invading tongue and suctioning lips of his teammate. He observed his bound coach as the older man's gaze moved from watching the deep, thrilling rimming that Pierre was laying into Jimmy, up to witness the depraved lusts etched hard onto the quarterback's face, their eyes locking with a powerful need each time.
The coach and the quarterback had held that gaze for long, dizzying seconds when Shanahan noted that Jimmy's had shifted suddenly downward. Kyle followed the trail with his own eyes, and knew what had drawn the jock stud's stare even as he was surprised he had not quite realized what was going on there. His cock was painfully, visibly hard under the nylon shell, and pressing hard against the fabric enough to leave a noticeable mound even under the looseness of the fabric. Shanahan had no doubt that that was exactly what Garappolo was staring at. He was also sure that the quarterback saw the darker, spreading spot caused by his freely flowing pre-cum. A quick glance back up, catching sight of a quickly darting tongue tracing the corner of the quarterback's mouth, the coach shifted his own gaze toward Garappolo's midsection, raking his eyes over his player's proud, bare cock. Eight full inches, it's thickness in near perfect proportion to the quarterback's sleek frame. The play of shadow being overtaken by fluorescent light caught the long webbing string of Jimmy's own pre-cum as it reached nearly to the table before breaking free of the mushroom capped jock shaft.
Jimmy Garappolo let out a long, loud groan as he watched a pulse of his coach's cock snot bubble through the fabric before it faded back, making the wet spot at Shanahan's groin even bigger. With an ease of understanding that usually only comes from practice, Garcon noted the slackening grip of his quarterback's hands on his skull and pulled his tongue from between the clutching ring of muscle that had so avidly held it captive. The sharp whip crack of the slap the wide receiver laid on the quarterback's ass was still echoing through the room as the black stud rose, pressing himself against Jimmy's back and nuzzling at his neck and earlobe. Shifting his powerful arms up to hook under those of the quarterback, Shanahan watched, amazed, as the wide receiver easily lifted Garappolo off the table and began to turn them toward him.
Garcon had nearly made it the few steps over to where he was seated before Garappolo extended his legs down to stand before his coach. One big quarterback palm spread over the mound of his aching hard, nylon encased cock as the 6'2" stud bent slightly forward to feel the older man up. The wide receiver moved from behind Jimmy to behind the seated, bound Shanahan. As the quarterback knelt between the splayed, immobilized legs of his coach, the wide receiver gripped the collar of the nylon pullover and ripped it to shreds. The teasing feel of the nylon tracing along his nipples at the rending made the 38 year old coach shiver. The rasping feel of the nylon being dragged along the crown of his cock as the quarterback pulled the pants off caused the shivers to roll over into turbulent quakes.
As his achingly hard cock became more and more exposed, Kyle Shanahan noted the widening of the goofy, lusty grins on both player's faces. He also noted the palpable rise in Jimmy Garappolo's desire. When the long, slender column of coach cock broke free of the nylon at last, slapping hard against Shanahan's stomach, the kneeling QB choked out a whispered 'nice' before casting his gaze up to look at his coach.
Kyle Shanahan felt Pierre Garcon's grip tighten around the base of his cock and lift it away from his belly even as he kept his eyes locked on the sight of Jimmy Garappolo's head shifting and ducking lower. The sight of the moist, full lips parting as they neared the tip of his slender, ten inch cock, sent a shiver through him, and another copious wad of pre-cum pulsing from his slit just as the quarterback's tongue made first, desperate contact with coach cock.
Part 2
A seizure of pure lust ripped it's way through Kyle Shanahan's 38 year old body as his 26 year old quarterback's lips slipped over and around his cock head. Neither man could have fought the drift into pure sensual lust had they wanted to. Jimmy's eyes fluttered closed as his lips slipped just under the ridge of his coach's flaring cock head. Kyle's neck muscles gave up as his head lolled back and his eyes rolled up into his skull at the feel of the full lips tightening along his shaft and the trace of the talented tongue mapping it's way over the veins along the length of his cock. It fell to Pierre Garcon to witness the union of coach and cock sucking quarterback.
The wide receiver felt a bit like it was a shame that at least a few of the other guys weren't able to see this, but mostly he let himself sink into his own voyeuristic tendencies and drank in the sight of Jimmy slipping his face down along the length of Kyle's shaft.
Shanahan felt Garcon's grip loosen and shift from the base of his cock as Garappolo's lips moved further down the towering column of coach cock. The damp warmth of the wide receiver's palm cupping his churning nuts was met simultaneously with the quarterback's nose nudging into his pubes.
And holding there.
Jimmy's breathing was steady through his nose, each exhalation raising goose bumps along the over heated skin of Shanahan's crotch. The coach raised his head in nearly perfect union to his quarterback's long sliding suck back up along the length of his cock. The dance of Jimmy's agile tongue overt he painfully sensitive flesh of his crown brought Kyle back closer to the moment to the point where the older man realized his gaze was fixed not on the bobbing, brilliantly sucking head in his lap, but at the heavy, oozing crown of his stud wide receiver's dark cock as it slid along his shoulder. Shanahan raised his eyes skyward, catching Garcon's eye with a desperate, silent plea. The firm shake of the wide receiver's head in response would have crushed the coach if the quarterback had not let loose with a gulping swallow that ricocheted along every millimeter of his cock flesh at that moment.
The hard pinch of Pierre Garcon's thumb and forefinger on the achingly pointed right nipple of Kyle Shanahan sent the coach's hips rocketing off the seat of the chair, driving the older man's cock even further between Jimmy Garappolo's cock sucking lips. The wide receiver let slip a demented grin as the desired effect occurred more fully than he had ever seen. Both Garcon and Shanahan were amazed at how Garappolo had managed to conquer the gagging urge to pull back off the cock now buried in his throat.
Garcon continued the ravaging manipulation of Shanahan tit. Shanahan continued lurching upward into Garappolo mouth. Garappolo continued, more than willingly, to suck cock. About the time the coach was sinking back into the bliss of his stud QB's head game, his (apparently sadistic) wide receiver would clamp down painfully on his nipple, only to soon back off and let the bliss rise part way back up. Only to repeat the cycle once again.
The realization hit Shanahan's lust addled brain like a sledge hammer as he realized that he had never been as turned on as he was right now. The painful manipulation of his surely bruised nipple coupled with the nearly gagging desperation of the cock sucking quarterback between his legs were threatening to drive him over the edge. He hoped that the choked, nearly sobbing, gasps he was forcing around the ball gag would be enough to warn his players. The knowledge that it was, in fact, was mingled with a palpable sense of loss as his players moved themselves away from his rut fevered body.
Jimmy rose away from his crotch at the same time he felt the heavy pulse of Pierre's cock sliding off his shoulder. Shanahan watched in something very close to real fear as Garappolo slid his tongue over the broad, flaring crown of Garcon's powerful cock, sweeping up the pre-cum eagerly. The anxiety brought on by the idea that they were going to once again abandon him here while they moved back to their own coupling was, fortunately, short lived.
The quarterback continued to rise, and then shifted his muscular legs until he was straddling those of his coach. The wide receiver once again gripped the base of the older man's cock and held it upright. Jimmy Garappolo reached behind himself and spread his muscular cheeks apart. Unlocking his knees, he let his body slip lower as he bent them, eyes locked with Kyle Shanahan's as his jock ass moved closer and closer to claiming it's reward. The first contact of quarterback taint against coach cock sent a shiver of debased need rippling through them. The leering chuckle of the wide receiver intensified that need to a nearly infinite degree.
Shanahan watched, rapt with lust, as Garappolo slid himself into position with remarkable assurance. Whether it was partly, or even all, in his imagination didn't matter in the least to the coach as he felt the electric charge of his quarterback's sphincter part and slip over his cock head. Pierre Garcon shifted his grip to his other hand, pressing his forearm tight along Jimmy Garappolo's wide spread ass crack as the stud QB impaled himself on ten, rock hard inches of Shanahan cock.
The coach watched as his quarterback sank himself lower, taking his manhood deeper and deeper inside even as he leaned forward and slipped his lips around the broad, dark purple crown of the wide receiver's stud cock. Shanahan watched in amazement as Garappolo impaled himself simultaneously on two massive columns of stud flesh, feeling the quarterback's powerful muscle ass coming to rest on his legs at the same moment he saw the 26 year old's perfect lips and strong nose smash into the shaved crotch of Pierre Garcon.
The 38 year old head coach drank in every single sensation that enveloped him like a frat boy doing a keg stand!
The clutching of his quarterback's strong, greedy channel as it milked his iron hard cock. The damp heat of Garappolo's right palm pressing the player's own drooling cock against his lightly furred belly, sliding it around in lusty rhythm as Jimmy ground himself harder against the sweaty pubes tickling along his taint and balls. The dark, spit soaked cock of his wide receiver moving in and out of view as Garappolo sucked Garcon. The wads of saliva hanging off the quarterback's chin, rolling down off of Pierre's massive nut sack to pool onto the floor. The feel of muscular legs pressing against his, clenching as they rose the man riding him up and down the length of him. The blast furnace of Jimmy's jock ass raising both men's temperature to dangerous levels.
Kyle Shanahan watched, spellbound, as Jimmy Garappolo heaved in a deep breath around the plugging thickness of Pierre Garcon's 9 inch monster and slid his puffy lips back and away, leaving the spit shiny, ebony shaft open for his greedy gaze.
"You wanna suck him, coach?"
The first actual words spoken in the last forty minutes sounded alien to all three men, not least due to the bubbling, throaty lust that Garappolo was feeling. The fluttering of the eyelids and the moan of desire from around the ball gag were as understandable as an answer as Shanahan's desperate nods. Jimmy Garapollo smiled, almost sweetly, at his coach, clenching his sphincter down on the older man's cock as he slid his hands to his coach's shoulders, then trailed them around his neck to remove the gag.
Kyle Shanahan tried to work his jaw the second the gag was removed, but Garapollo and Garcon were quicker. Jimmy pushed against his coach's neck as Garcon shifted his stance and before Shanahan could suck in even one full breath, nearly half a foot of wide receiver cock was in his mouth, flattening his tongue and stretching his lips painfully. The wide receiver's big hand joined the quarterback's on the back of their coach's head, forcing the older man to open his throat to the invasion.
"Fuck yeah, coach...suck that shit down!"
The undeniable force behind the wide receiver's voice sent another shiver rocketing through Shanahan's body. The feel of his quarterback's hands now clutching at his shoulders drew at least part of his attentions away from the cock splitting his lips wide as Jimmy began a sharper rise and fall on his cock, leaving just the head trapped in the fiery jock hole on each upward slide and then slamming his powerful glutes hard against the coach's pubic bone on each full impalement. The feel of Garappolo's ass milking along his hardness was beyond animal.
As was the feel of Pierre's cock ravaging it's way through his throat. The wide receiver stood stock still, feet firmly planted, as one massive, black hand dug into Kyle's hair pushing the coach all the way down, and then pulling him nearly all the way off, the fat, face fucking cock in a dizzying, steady rut.
The taste of Pierre's pre-cum sliding along his tongue and down into his gut faded almost in and out with the feel of Jimmy's pre-cum slapping onto his chest each time the quarterback impaled himself on the length of coach cock. The fleeting thought that he was working his throat muscles against the cock he was eagerly sucking in much the same way Jimmy was using his ass muscles to milk the cock he was riding brought forth a moan and a pulse at the same time. The moan vibrating around the column of flesh buried in his throat, and a pulse that thickened his cock inside the jock ass of his stud quarterback.
The wide receiver's grip began to falter at the same time that his stance did. The coach knew that his battered throat would soon be soothed by the sure to be massive wad of jock cum the black god was preparing to unload. Pierre Garcon began to rocket his hips painfully forward against Kyle Shanahan's face, slamming hard against the man's long nose with bruising regularity, and in nearly perfect time to the self impalement and withdrawal of Jimmy Garappolo's milking ass. The 38 year old knew that he would not be able to last much longer than the 31 year old wide receiver, and he doubted that the 26 year old quarterback would be more than a few seconds behind that if the jock bottom bitch managed to hold off that long.
Pierre Garcon's entire body began to tremble threateningly as he struggled to draw his swelling cock back along Kyle Shanahan's wriggling tongue. The coach felt the already massive head swell just inside his tightly clamping lips, felt the pulse of the cum tube press against his lower lip, and felt the massive, wet heat of the first blast of jock cum pour copiously onto his tongue. The wide receiver granted his coach another deep, pounding shot of jock sperm before he pulled his still spewing cock out of the man's gaping mouth. The third blast painted Shanahan's pouty lower lip, the fourth and fifth baptized his cheek and the upper corner of his mouth, the sixth trailed in a long, viscous stream along his jawline. The coach just caught sight of the wide receiver milking a final trail of cum from the still hard shaft before his view was blocked by Jimmy.
The quarterback clamped his lips onto the coach's jawline, licking the wide receiver's cum greedily. Chewing lightly and licking upward, Garappolo hoovered up every drop of Garcon cum before clamping his lips onto Shanahan's and forcing his tongue deep into the coach's mouth, as if searching for the blasts that the wide receiver had deposited there.
Kyle Shanahan noticed the shaking in his legs suddenly, became painfully, brilliantly aware of the pressure of his quarterback's big body riding him hard and rough. The feeling of the stud cock slut moaning loud and deep into his mouth crashed up against the feel of his own moan echoing off the roof of Jimmy's mouth. The ripping, tearing moans were caused by the actions of the almost forgotten wide receiver.
Having milked the last trace of cum from his still hard cock onto the fingers of his right hand, Pierre Garcon shifted and crouched, unnoticed by the two still rutting men. Two thick fingers sank themselves with tremendous force into Jimmy's already occupied channel, squeezing pressure added in along the length of Kyle's cock, already tightly gripped by the muscle ass it was fucking. The beefy black stud ground those fingers deep and hard into Jimmy, and pressed them bruisingly along the nearly ready to burst shaft of Kyle's long, hard cock.
And still Jimmy Garappolo impaled himself desperately on Kyle Shanahan's cock and Pierre Garcon's thick fingers.
"C'mon, coach...fuckin' breed his quarterback cunt!"
Far from being taken aback by the insult, Shanahan observed that it drove Garappolo to a higher plane of need, a more desperate rutting drive back against the cock inside him. Kyle Shanahan did his best, in an awkward position, to drive his hips hard against Jimmy Garappolo's muscular ass as the bitch QB rose away from his coach's lips, and rode his cock violently. The thick fingers squeezed against his cock inside the clenching jock hole, the milking clench of the quarterback's sphincter muscles were pulling Shanahan closer and closer to a massive orgasm. Garappolo's mouth agape, eyes heavy lidded, tongue dancing lightning quick along his lower lip only added to the fire of bestial lust consuming the coach.
The thick fingers slipping alongside the pounding cock fucking his ass drove Jimmy's lust painfully high as well. The crushing his overloaded nuts were taking each time he ground himself down hard against his coach's groin. The sharp, irregular drumming of the long, hard shaft as it beat against his battered prostate. The heavy, thudding slap of his painfully hard cock as it rebounded off of Shanahan's furry stomach as the two slammed harder and harder together had the 26 year old quarterback riding a dangerous and necessary ledge of pleasure and pain as he milked the pile driving coach cock deep inside him. Pierre Garcon spread his fingers as wide as he could in the already cock ravaged jock channel of Jimmy's ass as his coach spoke.
"That what you want, bitch?" Shanahan growled at him threateningly, "You want your coach's load breeding your jock cunt?"
Jimmy Garappolo tried desperately to answer in the affirmative, but was only able to choke out a strangled cry of "FUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKKK!" as his own load burst free from his pulsing cock.
Kyle Shanahan felt two things simultaneously in the split second after Jimmy's first blast of quarterback cum rocketed out of his cock, anointing the coach's chest. The already clutching jock cunt clamped tighter around Shanahan's cock, the muscles surrounding it milking it even more greedily, and the hard press of Pierre Garcon's thumb against his taint, pushing deep against his prostate from outside. The coach's first blasts of cum were nearly swamped by the load that continued spewing from Jimmy's balls out over his chest. He recognized four powerful pulses of his cum cannon balling into his quarterback's ass, but was unsure how many he had missed as Jimmy's cum rained, sizzling, onto his own lust addled skin.
The two studs, still joined by deeply burrowing cock and softly milking ass muscles, collapsed together in a heaving, panting wreck of sweaty flesh and muscle.
Pierre Garcon let them catch their breath for a couple of gasping seconds before prying the two men's cum slimed chests apart. Raking the two thick fingers that had just been inside Jimmy alongside Kyle's cock through the largest pool of cum cooling in the coach's chest hair he brought them to his quarterback's lips, leering depravedly as Jimmy slurped them into his mouth with a greed that should have been sated just seconds earlier. Pulling away from the quarterback's still sucking lips, he raked the same fingers through the largest pool of cum cooling on Jimmy's smooth, muscular chest before transferring the cummy mess onto Shanahan's outstretched tongue like communion.
Smiling almost sweetly now at both men, the wide receiver crouched behind the chair and untied his coach's hands before rising and speaking.
"Looks to me like you two are both still in need. You should probably explore that before you leave here."
Walking away, Garcon turned for a fleeting glance as he reached the door, seeing Shanahan's arms circling Garappolo's strong back as the quarterback pressed his slightly parted lips to those of his coach.