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< BREAKING BAKER MAYFIELD > < entry five >
"Mornin', Baker! You're here so early today," The girl at check-in cooed, batting her eyes at the quarterback.
"Oh... couldn't sleep, so decided to run it off and get a work out in..." Baker nervously flashed his wide, boyish smile, keeping his distance and suddenly very, very aware of how he smelled at the moment.
"We'll all be watching the NFL draft broadcast... rooting for you, Baker!" The girl was practically drooling for the athlete. Her overt flirtatiousness always made Baker hard every time he set foot in his local college gym, where he'd been keeping in shape in the months leading up to the draft. Usually loving the fawning and attention, all Baker could think about that morning was taking a long, hot shower before getting home, scrubbing every millimeter of his body clean of... everything.
...
Baker had just barely managed to pull himself together enough earlier that morning (or was it late last night?), putting on his cum and piss-splattered hoody and shorts before limping out of that empty, dark dungeon, feeling all the cum and piss slowly drying on his body hearing the cum and piss squish and squash between his long toes, bare feet and those Nike sliders with every aching step.
The quarterback was nearly hyperventilating by the time he escaped that dungeon and sex shop, catching a brief glimpse of the perverted old man behind the counter blowing him a filthy air kiss while hastily drawing his cum-drenched cap and hoody low over his face. His entire body hurt. His knees and wrists were bruised, his jaws were sore, his thighs were spasming, and his ass... his hole... ached with every sloppy step. Baker bit his lower lip as he finally made it to his car in the deserted parking lot, with the sun just barely rising, feeling wet, viscous cum buried deep in his no-longer virgin hole slowly trickle out and down his thighs and legs, feeling his red and sore cock grow harder as he stood there fumbling with his keys, nearly soiling himself yet again, his cummy toes gripping those Nike sliders so hard and tight as the quarterback desperately tried to hold in his first ever load of cum with his freshly deflowered hole.
Baker wasted no time once he got in his car. Stripping naked and changing out of his soiled clothes, the athlete drove away in a fresh work out kit, throwing those Nike sliders and cummy and piss-stained clothes out the window, choking back bitter tears as he clung on to that OU baseball cap he'd worn all night, unable to discard the cum-drenched cap nor unable to stop himself from screaming at himself as he drove back home.
...
Baker had managed to escape the flirty receptionist girl at the gym and had made a beeline for the showers. He was so confused. So crazed. His voice was hoarse and raspy from crying and screaming all night, but he'd finally found solace and respite in his hometown gym shower, rinsing away his night of perversity and debauchery and slowly regaining his sanity and composure. He wasn't sure what to do with the load of cum in his ass... but the more he obsessed over it, the harder his cock grew in that shower. The abject reality was, for Baker, that he knew he couldn't hold his first load in forever, and the quarterback feared how he'd be left feeling, empty, if he somehow managed to purge himself of all that cum or what he'd do if the emptiness proved to be too crippling.
Retracing every moment of that night, Baker tried and tried but couldn't remember how it all ended... He couldn't recall how it felt to cum with a cock shoved deep in his stretched, virgin hole, how it felt to have another man cum inside him with another cumming down his throat, how it all ended, how he was just left there all alone...
Baker realized, standing there alone in the hot shower for god knows how long, he'd wrapped one hand around his own neck and the other furiously stroking his turgid, beer-can of a six-inch cock. He knew he was quickly losing control, feeling his first ever load seeping out of his worn and abused hole. He choked himself harder, gripped and pumped his aching cock tighter and faster, feeling his tender, puffy hole relax for the first time since he woke up alone in that sex dungeon.
The quarterback wanted to cry, to sob, but he was all out of tears that morning. Playing back the things those men yelled at him, what that man whispered into his ears, all Baker could do was whimper quietly in that gym shower, feeling more and more cum leak out of his sore hole, suffocating himself with his own hand and hurting himself with ever furious, angry pump of his cock.
Baker was so desperate to cum again, to feel that final orgasm he'd missed while blacked out. He was so hard, and he whimpered more and more as more cum escaped his stretched and gaping hole. He'd spread his muscular legs so wide in that shower stall, his toes curling and gripping the hot, wet tiled floor, pressing his forehead agains the tiled wall and choking himself brutally, rising on his toes and on the verge of crying out full volume when he felt the gush of cum - so much cum - squirt out of his broken hole.
"(Faggot! Pussy! Cocksucker! Whore! Filthy bitch! Nasty cunt!)" Baker grunted as softly as he could to himself, trying to repeat all the deranged things he was called earlier that night, stroking so fast and hard his cock went numb, desperately trying to pump another load out of his cock as his hole emptied of all that cum. But he couldn't. Baker couldn't cum. He was on the edge for so long in that shower, but he couldn't get there.
Exasperated, Baker finally gave up after what felt like an eternity. He soaped himself up once again all over, letting the soapy water fall over his spent body but was still of reaching behind to touch his hole and ass, afraid of what gaping, swollen lips he'd feel with his fingertips.
Resigned, Baker managed to compose himself the best he could, coming up with one stupid lie after another to tell his family and fiancée where he'd been all night. By the time the athlete toweled off, wrapping the gym's large, white towel around his naked waist and marched resolutely in his bare feet back to his locker, Baker was sure to have forgotten everything that had transpired in that shower and in the hours preceding.
...
"Don't. Turn. Around."
Baker was facing his open locker, the one the local college had allowed him to keep all his workout gear in during these months, when he suddenly heard that voice. He froze with his hand digging inside his gym bag for fresh underwear. His heart sank. His stomach turned. His adorable face turned beet red.
With three stern words, Baker knew it was the man who had abused him all night, the one who'd taunted him, called him faggot, called him pussy boy, called him cum whore... the man who fucked him, the man who broke his quarterback cherry in such a brutal and demeaning way.
"Don't. You. Dare. Turn. Around."
Baker was horrified. The gym was open. It was super early, but the local college was still in session. Anyone... anyone could've walked in. The quarterback's spine tingled when he felt that man's heat behind his naked, still-wet body. Gobsmacked and apprehensively obedient, Baker looked straight ahead into his locker with fear as he first felt a man's arm reach past him then seeing a thick muscular black arm appear in his peripheral vision, forcibly pulling his own hand out of his gym bag and rifling deliberately through the locker as he felt that muscular, fully-clothed frame press against his body from behind.
"(How... how'd you find me?!?!?!)" Baker managed to whisper. His whole body was shaking. His beer-can cock tenting the wet towel wrapped around his waist.
"(I followed you, you little cock whore...)" The man's words made Baker's cock jump and his body quiver. Baker watched hopelessly as the man pulled out one of the quarterback's trademark OU bandanas, the one Baker always wore at games.
"(What... what... what do you want?!?)" Baker cringed when he heard his own hoarse voice crack, pitch high. His knees were shaking so out of control he had to steady himself with both hands on the cold locker doors as the man snapped that sweaty bandana in the air like a whip. "(What... what are you doing?!?)"
"(You ask a lot of questions for a little slut, Baker...)", the man whispered as he tied that bandana around Baker's big, wet eyes. Tightly, cloaking the quarterback in total darkness. With one little flick by the man's finger, Baker's wet towel dropped around his ankles, revealing the beefy jock's fat ass and muscular thighs... The quarterback felt so helpless. So hopeless.
"(You can't...! You're insane... Please...! We can't!)" Baker was hysterical, blindfolded and exposed like this in a public gym. His cock was so swollen, rock-hard and red with fresh precum forming at the tip of his turgid fat mushroom head.
"(Don't you piss yourself again, Baker...)" The man methodically positioned Baker's hands wide apart on the lockers, wedging his knees between Baker's thighs to push the quarterback's legs as wide as the could go. The quarterback was complete putty... his boyish face flushed and burned red from humiliation, trembling, shaking from head to toe... he was so petrified; he could not resist. He dared not. "(Where did a white boy get a thick ass like this, huh?)"
"(You can't...! Please... stop! Please...! We can't here! Please!!!!!) UGHNNN!!!!!" Baker shocked himself when he suddenly squealed in full voice, feeling a tongue and mouth suddenly devouring his aching and sore hole. He had to cover his own mouth with his left hand in order not to scream any louder as he desperately maintained balance against the lockers with his right hand... his knuckles white... "(UGHN! UGHN! UGHNN! UGHNN!!!)"
Baker knew how to eat pussy, and he knew that man was eating the shit out of his boy pussy. The sounds of slurping and spitting, of munching and sucking was particularly palpable when blindfolded, echoing in the empty locker room. Baker was so hard. He was so anxious. So paranoid that someone would walk in. Every little noise made him jump. He was sweating. From pleasure. From fear. He was begging through his clasped, panting mouth... not here... not here... not here... he realized he was on the verge of cumming hands-free when he'd almost asked the man to take him anywhere, to do anything, as long as it wasn't in that exposed locker room.
The man devoured Baker's sweet hole, marveling at how quiet the quarterback managed to be, whimpering and moaning through his clasped mouth, writhing and pushing his ass back onto that hungry mouth, with a stream of precum leaking from his turgid jock cock. He was also surprised at how compliant and submissive Baker was, and how fresh that quarterback hole tasted despite the abuse it endured earlier, how pink and tight it was, how pretty it looked all wet with saliva and winking under the bright locker room lights.
"(Ughn! Please.. please.. not here... UGHN! Anywhere... but... UGHN! Here...!)"
"What did you say, boy?" The man could barely understand Baker's pathetic, nonstop blubbering; he began licking Baker's taint, his thick glutes, running his hungry tongue up the quarterback's spine, tasting the jock's fresh sweat off his broad back, his sweet skin. Licking, sucking, biting, the man made his way to Baker's neck and ears. "What did you say, boy?"
"(Please... not here... Ughnn! Ughnn! Not... anywhere but... Ughnn! Here..! Please...! UGHNN! UGHNNN! UGHNNN!!!!!!!!! UGHNNN! FUCK! UGHN!N!! UGHNNN!)" Baker begged, feeling that man's greedy, rough hands molest every inch of his beefy, muscular torso, feeling the fingers and palms dig into his belly, roughly massaging his pecs before gripping his shoulders from underneath his armpits. Baker screamed into his hand when he felt that man press his wet and greasy cock at his quivering, wet hole, finally pushing into his spit-soaked hole with sadistic force.
It hurt so badly. Just as painful as the first time just hours ago. Sweat poured from every inch of Baker's body as he rose, against will, on his toes. That cock felt even larger, even thicker, the second time, stretching his bruised hole open again, snaking deep inside with neither regard nor mercy.
Baker's hole clasped around the man's cock like an iron grip, completely hungry, wet hot, and selfish. Despite Baker's crying and pleading, the man knew that hole wanted cock; how it sucked his cock deeper, how it gaped and quivered, how hot and smooth it felt, how wet it was for cock...
"(UGHN! UGHNN! UGHNN! Please...! Ughn... I'll... Ughn!!! Not... Ughnnn! Here...! UGHNN! UGHNN!! I'll... UGHN! Do anything! UGHN! Please! Not here! PLEASE!! UGHNN! UGHNN!)"
Baker knew it was futile. With every plea, every word, the man gripped his shoulders harder, pushed in deeper until finally, that euphoric sensation of a cock bottoming out deep inside him, feeling another man's clothed body pressed up against his naked one, and that painful feeling of something snap inside him. He was ruined. He knew what was about to happen. He couldn't believe this was happening. Right there. In an open locker room.
"UGHN! UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNN!!!!!!!" Baker had to unclasp his mouth in order to support himself with both hands against the lockers, desperately trying to swallow his screams with no avail, hearing his hoarse voice cry out, whimper, grunt and moan in full voce when the man started fucking him. Pounding him. Slamming into him. Deeper. Harder. Faster. With every pump and every stroke.
The man truly wasted no time. As soon as he bottomed out in Baker's hot hole, he ripped it out and slammed back in as hard and fast as he could, marveling at Baker's natural gift as a voracious bottom, how his hole accommodated and gripped and gaped and squeezed around every millimeter of his cock. If Baker cared at all about people hearing or walking in on him getting fucked, the man couldn't tell... not that he cared. The quarterback was screaming and whimpering so loud and slamming his ass back onto that cock like a whore in heat. Maybe the kid just wanted to get it over with as soon as possible, but surely Baker craved the thrill. That kid was no angel.
Fresh cum boiled in Baker's heavy, tightened balls. He'd never felt adrenaline like this. His cock was so hard it hurt from bouncing between his legs while getting pounded. Every time that man bottomed inside him, Baker thought he'd finally hit his pain threshold. But slam after slam, Baker leaked. Deeper and deeper, Baker grunted. Harder and harder, Baker whimpered and squealed.
"Turn around, boy..." The man suddenly pulled out of Baker's sloppy, wet hole with a perverse squish. "Don't you whine, pussy boy..."
"(UGHN!)" Baker grimaced in his blindfolded, sweaty darkness, feeling the overwhelming emptiness in his aching, stretched hole as the man roughly manhandled him, turning him around and shoving his back against the sweaty, steamy lockers. The quarterback moaned when he felt a man's lips on his for the first time, a man's tongue forcing his lips and mouth open, feeling the facial scruff rub against his own, feeling rough hands wrap around his neck as that man devoured his lips and mouth and tongue. Baker instinctively reached down to wrap both of his hands around the man's greasy, hard cock. It was huge. Way thicker and longer than the quarterback had expected, requiring well more than two of the quarterback's hand two wrap around its length.
Baker felt so empty... so turned on... his heart pounding so hard as he stood there, blindfolded in the locker room, feeling another man's mouth on his, feeling that man's cock throb and swell in his two hands. He couldn't believe he was taking all of it up his ass.
"You want it, don't you, Baker..." The man grunted through sloppy kisses. Baker tasted so sweet... sweaty, musky, and dirty. "On your knees."
All of a sudden, Baker heard the door open and click shut. Panicked, the quarterback quickly let go of the throbbing, heavy cock in his hand, squirming to push that man off of him, to escape the hands wrapped around his throat, feeling the hard muscles of the man's arms, pushing against the steel-hard pecs and abs cloaked underneath a sweaty, jersey t-shirt. Baker was desperate. He was horrified and having a total meltdown, pawing helplessly at the man as he got the wind choked out of him. Between tears, gasping for air and hyperventilation, Baker begged with sheer anguish, on the verge of full-blown sobbing, "(Stop! Stop! We... we have to stop!)"
With no hesitation, the man tightened his grips around Baker's neck and began forcing the quarterback down on his knees, feeling Baker's strong hands clasping hopelessly and tightly around his muscular forearms and pathetically trying to get out of that stranglehold. Fresh sweat coated the quarterback's naked, dripping body as he struggled, and the man watched Baker's pouty, red lips and wet face descend with desperate resistance, seeing the boy's face turn red with veins bulging from his shoulders and arms as he struggled impressively.
Baker was close to blacking out when the man suddenly let go of his neck; losing balance and gasping for air, the quarterback fell onto his knees with a girlish whimper. Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god. As soon as Baker collapsed on his knees and before he could catch his breath, the man shoved his monster cock into Baker's gasping mouth.
"Come on, taste your own ass on my mouth, boy, taste it!"
Baker wanted to fight. To bite. To tear that blindfold off and pretend like nothing was going on. To run away and hide from whoever had walked in at that moment. But all he could do, on his knees, in total pitch-black, smelling his own rank ass for the first time on that veiny cock, tasting himself and feeling that cock brutally stretch his throat open again... all Baker could do was keep sucking. He held on to that man's tree-trunk thighs for dear life as he sucked, or was it get his face pounded? Between the gagging and throat fucking, Baker could hear footsteps approaching. It was all over.
To be continued...
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