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< BREAKING BAKER MAYFIELD > < entry seven >
"You're a day too late for the party, son..." The gruff, deep voice snapped Baker out of his trance. The newly-anointed Number 1 pick of the NFL draft was shivering. Clad in just a hoody drawn over his capped head and grey sweatpants, the quarterback was leaning against the hood of his car, his arms and ankles crossed, his bare feet shaking nervously in a pair of black Nike sliders.
Baker didn't know how long he'd been in that parking lot. He'd spent the NFL draft night with his girlfriend, friends and family, drinking until daybreak, celebrating his rookie contract with the Cleveland Browns. The soon-to-be freshman NFL quarterback couldn't stop drinking. He couldn't stop feeling the dull aches of his worn, bruised hole. He couldn't black out the painful anal assault he endured that very morning. He couldn't un-see himself, splayed out like a whore in that locker room, getting his face and throat pummeled by one cock while another cock slammed repeatedly into his broken hole. He couldn't erase from his mind, no matter how much he'd had to drink, the devastatingly intense orgasm he experienced, with two cocks buried deep inside his jock hole. He couldn't un-hear that man's last words to him as he sobbed and desperately tried to hold his abusers cum inside him; he knew he had to be there that night. He knew he shouldn't be at home celebrating... he needed to be at the sex shop. That man knew. He knew all about Baker. Everything. But Baker couldn't get away. He just couldn't. Family and friends, camera crew and press were everywhere. He felt so out of control. So he drank and binged all night into early morning, until he physically blacked out, barely waking up around dinner time the next day.
"Ex... excuse me?" Baker swallowed hard. Stammering. He couldn't find his words. Cold sweat. He immediately recognized the old man who ran the sex shop as the early, early morning sun began to filter through the night clouds.
"Nobody here, so I'm closing up, boy... last night was the big one." The old man muttered as he locked the front door, eyeing the flummoxed and adorable jock as he turned the key.
"I'm, I'm just driving through, sir... um, stretching my legs..."
"Don't be a shy idiot, boy. You're looking for cock, ain't you, son?"
"..."
"I saw you stand out here like an idiot for an hour, kid."
"..." Baker suddenly remembered how he'd dragged his hungover self into the shower earlier that night, scrubbing the alcohol out of his pores before jumping into his car and driving off hysterically earlier that night, speeding hours away from from his family and loved ones, screaming, sobbing and banging on the steering wheel. The jock remembered how overwhelmingly ashamed he felt when he pulled into the parking lot of the sex shop. Then he remembered how devastatingly disappointed he felt when he saw there was not a single car in the lot.
"Come on, boy... is this what you're looking for?" The old man suddenly unzipped his jeans, and a shockingly large, flaccid cock flopped out. Baker was gobsmacked. The sun was coming up. It would be broad daylight within minutes. They were literally on the side of a highway.
"You wake up feeling dangerous, kid?"
"I... I... please... put that away, sir..." Baker was breathing hard. He could feel fresh sweat pouring from his pores. His cock twitching in his boxers and sweatpants, his toes curling and flexing in his sliders. His knees couldn't stop shaking.
"You wake up feeling dangerous, son?" The old man persisted, stroking his cock slowly, and observing the adorable jock-frat-boy or whatever he was in front of him evidently trembling and shaking. Baker's jaw dropped when he saw the old man's cock rise to full erection. He'd never seen a cock so thick, so long, so veiny... "Come on, faggot. You wanna suck this cock, boy?"
"You've... you've got it wrong, man..." Baker stumbled over his his words. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't stop staring at that giant, turgid cock. "I'm... I'm... I'm... just... passing through..."
"Shut the fuck up, son," The old man whistled as he approached Baker. His baseball bat of a cock bouncing menacingly with every step. "I remember you. You hard to forget, kid."
"I... I...."
"Feeling dangerous, kid? Come on. Touch it."
"I... I..." Baker looked down to avoid the stern gaze of the old man, only to see his own six-inch beer-can of a cock rock hard, tenting in his boxers and sweatpants. Gripping the hood of his car, the quarterback felt so small as the old man's monster, 12-inch cock came into view. Red hard. Glistening wet head. As thick as a forearm.
"Touch it."
Baker jumped when he felt the old man's hands on his shoulders, feeling that foreign body close in, feeling that huge, heavy cock flop down on his own tented sweats.
"(Come on, kid... or you rather get on your knees?)" The old man leaned into the nape of Baker's neck and whispered. The boy smelled sweet. His shoulders broad and muscular, his thick, athletic body burning hot and sweating. The old man remembered clearly watching Baker on his security cam - the kid was hard to forget - and to his delight, up close, everything about the quivering, boyish jock screamed USE ME.
The old man heard Baker exhale, almost whimper, as he thrusted his cock against Baker's, feeling the kid's six-inch pecker bounce and throb through the sweats with his giant cock. He tightened his grips on the jock's muscular shoulders, feeling Baker's tentative, shaking hands gingerly wrap around his monster dick. Delighting in his sexy little gasps, the old man started pumping his cock into Baker's hands. "(Go get it, son, get what you came for...)"
"..." Baker was in a trance. His heart was beating so fast as sweat began to drench his hoody and sweats. His knees were still shaking.
"(Yes, I remember you, son...)" Hearing Baker's breaths deepen and hasten, feeling his hands tighten around his cock, the old man suddenly let go of Baker's shoulders and wrapped both hands around the quarterback's throat, eliciting a girlish groan from the stud boy before him. The old man of a sudden spat on the jock's scruffy, flushed face, delighting in the kid's widened, shocked brown eyes and hearing more pathetic whimpers escape his throat. Baker's cock began bouncing and throbbing all over the place in those sweats. "(Yes, I remember... you like it rough, don't you..."
"UGHN!!" Baker gasped when he felt the old man spit on his face again, feeling those hands tighten around his neck and that cock throbbing harder and thicker in his own hands. Baker was flushed red with humiliation and embarrassment when the old man suddenly let go of him. Gasping for air but still gripping that enormous cock, Baker stammered, "UGHN! UGh... I... I... I don't know if I can take it..."
"I've seen you, son..." The old man pervertedly reached out and pulled back Baker's hood, noting the tears welling up in those big eyes as he continued to pump into the jock's hands. The kid looked so scared when he pulled down the zipper, revealing a thick, athletic torso, beefy chest, hard nipples... heaving and already glistening wet. The kid was quite a sight, practically drooling for cock yet on the verge of sobbing. The old man took off Baker's cap, inhaled its sweaty inside, reveling in the jock boy's dirty, sweet scent before putting the cap back on Baker's sweaty head, backwards.
"UGHN!" Baker gasped when he felt the old man's greedy fingers traverse his exposed torso, feeling his round pecs harder and harder until he was pinching both of his nipples. Hard. Pulling on them, pinching them, tweaking them, hurting them. The quarterback could barely breathe, feeling the electricity shoot from his hyper sensitive nipples down to his fingers and toes and up through his quivering hole and throbbing cock as he furtively and nervously darted his eyes all around. Baker could hear cars zoom by the highway. "UGHNN! UGHNN!!!"
"Come on, pretty boy! Feeling dangerous? Go get what you came for!" Tugging on his nipples, the old man suddenly barked into Baker's flushed face, spitting on it, smacking the jock's pecs with both hands, twisting those instantly swollen nipples. Pumping his ludicrously thick and long cock into Baker's tightening hands, the old man continued ravaging the quarterback's chest and nipples, covering his cute, crimson face with spit, and ending with an abrupt slap across Baker's burning cheek, leaving the jock stunned and hyperventilating. The old man saw a wet patch had formed at the tip of Baker's tented sweats.
It was like a switch was suddenly flipped. Baker immediately dropped onto his knees. Whimpering like a wounded pup, the quarterback began devouring the old man's cock, feeling his mouth stretch to its limits, gagging, choking and slobbering as he desperately tried to shove as much of that obscenely gigantic cock down his throat. The old man's crotch reeked of piss, ass and cum, but Baker didn't care. He slobbered all over it. Licking that giant, turgid pole hungrily and sloppily before trying to shove it all down his throat again.
"There you go you pretty little thing... there's that slutty cock-sucking whore...!"
"(UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNN!!!!)" Baker could barely swallow half of the old man's cock before gagging and choking and spitting it back out. He tried slamming his face down, open his throat, relax it, suck on it, lick it... but it was too big. Even with two hands wrapped around the base, the quarterback could barely accommodate the old man's cock. His jaws ached. He wanted to vomit.
"And here I thought you were an expert..." The old man smacked his tree-trunk member across Baker's wet face. Over and over. Harder and harder, eventually leaving red marks. He'd seen what Baker could do with cocks and his throat. He knew Baker was no match for this cock.
"UGHN! UGHNN!" Baker screamed when the old man suddenly pulled him up and clasped his teeth around his left nipple. Biting, chewing, sucking on it with absolute brutality. Girlish whimpers escaped the jock's throat as he felt his sweatpants and boxers get pulled down in one forceful gesture. Baker could see cars zooming by in the not-far distance now. "(PLEASE! PLEASE! Not... UGHN! UGHNN! Not... UGNN! here...!)"
"What did you say, son? Fine ass on you, boy..." The old man grabbed one of Baker's thick, muscular ass cheeks with one hand, wrapping his other around the jock's full and tight balls.
"(Please... UGHN! Please... take... take me inside... UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNN!!! not here... please... UGHNN!!!!!!)" Baker begged. Pathetic tears trickling down his tear, saliva and pre-cum-covered cheeks as the sun beamed above. His red lips agape and panting. Another car flew by the highway.
"And what do you think is going to happen inside, boy?" The old man continued chewing and biting on the quarterback's swollen, quarter-sized nipple, his fingers quickly finding the jock's red hot hole. Baker was practically pissing pre-cum as the old man's other hand continued tugging on his balls. Harder and harder. "Tell daddy what you'll do for daddy..."
"UGHNN! UGHNN! Any... UGHNN!!! Anything! UGHNN! UGHNN! Please... ANYTHING YOU WANT! UGHNN! UGHNN!" Baker suddenly cried out in full voice, feeling the pain of the old man's teeth clamp on to his nipple, feeling fingers brutally shoved inside his sweaty, pulsating hole.
"But I got you right here, kid..." The old man growled as Baker's beefy body writhed between his probing fingers, stroking hand and unrelenting teeth. A stream of clear pre-cum oozed endlessly out of Baker's six-inch, beer-can cock. "Come on, kid, you love putting on a show, don't you? You love people watching you, don't you?!"
With a feeble whimper, Baker felt his beefy athletic body get manhandled, finding himself bent over the hood of his car and facing the highway. He shut his eyes as hard as he could as his hoody got stripped from his torso, feeling his thick, muscular legs get kicked apart despite the boxers and sweats pooled around his ankles. He gripped the hood of his car as tightly as he could and whimpered like a bitch in heat when he heard a bottle pop open and felt cold, thick lube dribble down his ass crack.
The old man fucked Baker with no mercy. He'd seen Baker suck endless cocks like a pro in his sex shop dungeon, but he also remembered how Baker took cock up his ass that one night. The kid was a natural cock-hungry bottom. Even if his mouth and throat couldn't handle this cock, the old man knew instinctively Baker's ass would more than compensate.
"Arch your back, kid... that's it... you know what to do... you know how to put on a show..."
Screaming with pain, Baker held on to his car hood for dear life as that giant cock snaked its way inside him, stretching him open, probing deeper and deeper. Before he could catch his breath, Baker felt both of his beefy arms wrangled behind him, pinned by the surprisingly strong old man against the small of his sweaty back. Baker cried with sheer pain and humiliation as he felt the hood of his car slam and then rub against his face, chest and abs. He couldn't believe it. All he could hear was cars driving past, his own sobbing, and balls slapping against his own balls and taint.
The old man pounded into that sweet jock boy hole with complete disregard for the screaming jock boy, like Baker was just a fucking silicone sex toy. The difference from a fuck toy, though, was that although Baker's hole was tight, it was also hot and wet for cock. It throbbed and gaped, engulfing every inch of that monster cock. The old man took pleasure in both burying his monster cock into the sweetest hole he'd ever fucked and also the satisfaction of knowing just how much of a cock whore this kid truly was. Beefy, muscular, cute as fuck... and completely submissive. Masochistic. Hungry. Insatiable. Squealing. Screaming. Crying. Moaning. Whimpering.
High from the hardcore pounding he was receiving, Baker's voice was hoarse. His arms ached. His ass was on fire. His ass was up in the air, balanced by his face on the hood and toes curling and gripping onto his Nike sliders into the gravel. He was shaking from his inside out, feeling hot heat swell and radiate from his prostate outwards. He could barely hold his balance his entire body was quaking and shaking uncontrollably. All Baker could hear now was his own girlish pleading, for more... feeling that cock abuse him, feeling more cold, thick lube dumped on his stretched hole and swollen ass lips, feeling that old man's rough hands molesting every inch of his sweaty torso, ass, and legs, as that cock somehow pounded deeper inside him, slamming into the deepest part of his hole.
"FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! UGHNN! UGHNN! FUCK ME! FUCK ME DADDY! FUCK ME HARDER!!! HARDER!!! HARDER!!! UGHNNN! UGHNNN! HARDER!!!!!"
Every time that old man smacked his ass, every time that old man spit on his back, every time that old man bottomed out and pull out and slam back inside with painful ease, every time that old man bit the back of his neck and shoulders, licking him, tasting him, using him... every time that old man's hands let go of his wrists and found their ways to his swollen, rubbed-raw nipples, every time those hands wrapped around his throat...
Every time: Baker cried THANK YOU. He begged MORE SIR. He screamed HARDER DADDY... for the whole world to hear and see. He spread those thick quarterback legs so wide he'd stepped out of the sweats pooling around his ankles. His boyish, wet face slammed and rubbed against the hood of the car as he reached behind and pulled apart his juicy, fat ass cheeks with both hands.
Baker didn't black out, but he felt like he was watching himself get raped from above. How his body glistened with sweat. How his voice sounded so shrill and desperate and pathetic. How large that cock looked every time the old man pulled out. How empty he felt, how he whimpered like a girl. How he screamed every time the cock slammed back inside him. How he took all of it. All of it. Over and over. How he arched his back, how hard that old man choked him from behind. How white his knuckles were from spreading his own ass cheeks; how red and wet his own cock looked in the sun, how it abruptly exploded with jock cum when that old man hoisted him upright and started strangling him with his arm and pinching his nipples. How he kept cumming onto the hood of his car - spraying thick, white jock cum everywhere, spurt after spurt - as the old man bottomed out inside him over and over. How it felt, feeling that tree-trunk of a cock buried deep, flexing, throbbing, cumming, impaling him... How euphoric Baker felt, feeling the aches and bruises all over his body, feeling that cock destroy his hole, riding his own orgasm... waves and waves of it... endless... as the old man continued to fuck him, bite him, smack him, use him for the whole world to see.
"OH MY GOD! UGHN! UGHN! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNNNNN! UGHNNNNNNNNN!!!"
Fucking the cum out of Baker, hearing the pathetic screams and cries in pitches so high only a bitch in heat could hear, the old man refused to stop. He continued to fuck Baker until the jock boy was just a wheezing, deflated mound of sweaty muscle collapsed on the hood of the car, losing all sense of time and speech and consciousness. He elicited barely any whimpers or moans from the near-comatose jock when he bottomed out once more, in that now-sloppy, gaping, wet hole of Bakers... filling it with cum... breeding him... claiming him... All Baker could muster at that point... his entire body numb, bruised, used... his entire psyche shattered... his entire sense of self diminished... was to utter with the last remaining strength he had... "(Thank you, sir...)".
...
"Get yourself cleaned up, kid. You're gonna get us arrested."
To be continued...
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