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.
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This story is copyrighted by the author as of 01-18-2018
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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Pro Rehab Rutting 2: JJ Watt's Tibia
(The mention of his brother Derek and the trip to LA is chronicled in "A Coach's Tale Part 3")
Prologue
Texan's Defensive Coordinator, Mike Vrabel should have been pissed at what he saw before him, and truth be told there was a little anger mixed in there. Mostly though he was feeling a combination of amusement and pride, underpinned by a barely submerged lust as he watched JJ Watt working himself harder than he was strictly allowed at the time.
The muscles shifting and flexing under the lightly tanned skin of the stud DE. The skin glistening with sweat. The slight, vibrating strain in the big man's arms where they gripped the incline bench. The more pronounced strain showing in the powerful thighs and thick calves as JJ worked harder and harder to regain the strength in them after the injury and subsequent surgery.
The scar shone livid in the glaring light of the room, while well healed it was still an angry looking pinkish purple against the sweaty flesh around the player's knee and upper tibia. Vrabel felt the pulse in his groin as his cock began to unfurl itself inside his shorts, his hefty nut sack seemed to increase in weight and volume even above their usual mass.
"Fuck, I hope he's wearing a jock under those shorts." The silent wish echoed through the 42 year old's already lusty mind.
Part 1
JJ finished his last rep and sat, more or less, upright on the bench feeling good that he had completed this surreptitious work out without being found out. The relief was short lived, however as he heard the rustling of nylon behind him. Turning warily toward the sound, the stud DE saw his defensive coordinator's face uncovered as the pullover was completely removed. Once again, JJ Watt was amazed at Mike Vrabel's body. While not player prime, the 6'4" coach was still every bit the stud. Deliciously hairy chest, powerful tanned arms, massive hands and perfectly graying beard all combined to scream "Daddy Stud!". All that, coupled with the package that the loose shorts the coach favored, were never quite able to hide completely had long turned JJ on. Had driven the stud player to distraction, in fact, after he had started waking from dazzlingly erotic dreams about the man.
Dreams that had started up a few weeks after getting back from helping his younger brother Derek move into his new place in LA before the start of the season. Dreams that reminded him of how much had changed on that trip. No matter how much he had tried to tell himself that it was a one time thing, he could never quite get it out of his head. And no matter how much he tried to rationalize the dreams he had been having about his coach since then, he had never been able to overcome them completely. As Mike Vrabel closed the door behind him, naked from the waist up and showing a bigger than normal bulge under the loose shorts as he kicked off his shoes, JJ Watt knew what he was in for, and knew that the shivers of anxiety that shot through his own 6'5" 290 lb frame were liberally mingled with a base desire for exactly this.
The hand now on his shoulder gripped a little too hard, letting JJ know that there was anger there. The caressing pat that followed told him that there was more worry mixed in, along with a clear understanding at his frustration that only someone who had also played at this level could reach.
"We've talked about this before, JJ. We need you to take this as slow as the doctors want you to. We need you back at full strength next year, and that is less likely to happen if you push yourself into another injury."
"I know. Sorry, coach." JJ had never felt so small as he did now looking up at his coach, the shiver that ripped through him made him feel smaller still.
The squeeze of Mike Vrabel's strong, rough hand on his shoulder, his coach's smile sent a throbbing pulse of nervous lust straight to JJ's crotch. The stud DE brought his hand slowly up off the bench and traced it lightly and tentatively up the powerful thigh of his coach, making sure to keep eye contact with the older stud. Suddenly, it seemed, his hand was floating just away from the promising package of coach cock under the man's shorts, JJ shifted his gaze there, almost unsure how he had moved into this position, before looking back up at his coach. His mouth felt impossibly dry from the nerves.
The coach gave a slight nod, and a smile that was edging toward a smirk. And just as suddenly, JJ's hand cupped itself over the fabric encased genitals of his coach, while his mouth began to copiously water in anticipation. The mound of flesh under the nylon of the shorts was growing steadily under the player's grip. The stud DE shifted his gaze away from his coach's encouraging gaze to focus on what he was about to unveil. He silently cursed the shaking in his other hand as he brought it to the waistband and began pulling the shorts down. Vrabel offered silent assistance as the pushed them down over his still muscular ass while JJ pulled them down from the front.
The stud player changed up his grip slightly when he realized his coach was wearing compression shorts as well, and pulled both thin layers of fabric down along the man's lower body. Revealing the curves and lines along Vrabel's hips and pelvis as he did so. In the end both of the DE's big hands succeeded in unveiling the coach's manhood. JJ Watt involuntarily swiped his tongue along his upper lip as the fullness of Mike Vrabel's desire was laid bare. The coach's half smile turned full smirk as he noted his player's submission confirmed with that sliver of pink tongue trace along the fullness of moist upper lip.
JJ Watt was looking at a gnarly, veiny and uncut shank of coach cock and a full, furry scrotum stuffed full with a massive pair of balls. He was drawn forward like a magnet, his searching tongue making contact with the still mostly covered head even as he realized that while the cock he was about to serve wasn't any longer than his own eight inches, it was definitely at least half again thicker. Pursing his lips loosely as he began to push the silky foreskin back off the crown, he shifted his gaze back up to his coach as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive cock head. The whispered 'fuck, JJ' coupled with the big hand resting on the back of his skull was like a starting gun that sent Watt off on the race of a lifetime.
JJ Watt felt as if he was inhaling everything about Mike Vrabel as much as he was inhaling the man himself. The experience was already enough to let the player know that he was definitely NOT going to deprive himself of this need ever again. The bulging veins along the cockshaft. The stretching girth and nearly strangling length of it. The smell and taste of virile, throbbing cockflesh. The heavy thump of the full balls banging against his chin. All of this drove JJ's desire to serve his coach. To sate this man's base and lusty desires. That his own hunger would be assuaged at the same time was a powerful bonus.
The twisted position should have been uncomfortable for the stud DE. Still seated on and straddling the angled bench, his upper body turned toward his coach, risen majestically to his side, his arms stretched to different lengths as he clutched the powerful, furry ass cheeks, desperate to pull Vrabel deeper into him. JJ Watt sucked cock like he never had before. His tongue mapped along as much of the spike on which he had willingly impaled himself, tracing along veins and the valleys between them. The heady sensation of the loose skin shifting and moving under his tongue and across his lips brought deep, guttural moans from his very core. The salty, musky taste of the man brought copious wads of saliva to his mouth, and with them a reflexive swallowing around the rock hard cock knocking at the entrance to his throat.
The tongue working over every inch of flesh. The pressure of the lips pursed against him as he slid in and out of his player's mouth. The heat of the spit washing along his length had already made this one of Mike Vrabel's top 5 blow jobs. The reflexive swallowing and the humming moans that vibrated along his shaft and over his head pushed it higher still in t he standings. JJ Watt was a fucking natural. He was also a cock starved slut judging from the desperate clutching of the hands digging into the coach's powerful shanks, working to keep the man buried inside his mouth as deep, and for as long, as possible. His own hands were searching as well. Gripping and releasing in turn over his player's scalp, tangling in t he close cropped hair. Massaging along the thickset, muscular flesh at the stud DE's shoulders, neck and chest. Gripping tight at the upper arms, fingers dipping into the moist sweaty jock pits. As if by command, Vrabel felt Watt's grip on his ass slacken slightly, and the coach pulled himself back and away, removing the bulk of his obscenely thick cock from the player's face, before spearing his way back in fully and without mercy. JJ Watt moaned, whether from pain, pleasure or both Mike Vrabel cared not, as the coach's sweaty, hairy crotch crashed against the player's nose, lips and chin. The consistency of JJ's grip on his backside let Vrabel know that the face fuck was his to control from now on.
The feeling of slamming himself into his player's greedy throat ratcheted the coach's lust up that much higher. The fact that JJ was working his tongue and lips double time now, moaning even deeper and swallowing even harder under the current attack sent pulses of the basest lust coursing through Mike Vrabel's entire being. For several spine tingling minutes the needful rut continued like this. Eight massively thick inches of coach cock slipped along swiping tongue and between full pursed lips, only to reverse trajectory and spear powerfully back into defensive end mouth and throat. The nearly boiling heat of jock stud saliva washed over the equally hot surface of stud coach cock. Full, pendulous bull nuts slammed against spit slick chin as Vrabel skewered Watt's face with the powerfully punishing thrusts of his cock. The feel of his stud DE's knuckles tracing near and just under his balls brought the next motion rocketing through Vrabel before he even fully knew what he was doing. Pulling fully away from his player, the coach smirked at the whimper that followed his cock out of the big cock sucker's mouth. The change of position was lightning quick as his foot came to rest between JJ's splayed thighs on the bench, ankle pressing tight against the still covered balls of the DE. The barely gripping hand at the base of the player's neck brought the blond head around, under and between his now spread thighs.
"Work my fuckin nuts, boy."
The command of Mike Vrabel did not need to rise to an exclamation. JJ Watt let slip a whimpering gasp as he all but unhinged his jaw to do this man's bidding. His nose now buried in the stud's taint, the stud DE clamped his lips around the massive scrotum even as he felt drops of his own saliva drip off the base of the massive cock he had seconds ago been so desperately servicing. The tangy smell of sweat was intoxicating to the point of nearly passing out, the musky dankness of the taint acted like smelling salts rocketing him back toward full consciousness. The combination of the two kept JJ in a weird stasis, rocketing between lust addled, hazy drunkenness and searing clarity of purpose. If the taste and smell of the cock as it had speared his hungry, greedy throat had helped to slake his thirst in some small way, the taste and smell of the sweaty muskiness of this deeper, fresher field only increased his gluttony.
The throbbing, tingling sensation sank deeper and deeper through Mike Vrabel's beefy coach body, finally centering in his full pulsing nuts as JJ Watt continued gorging himself on the coach's very essence there. The coach desperately wanted to eat the jock's ass, but knew instinctively that, this time anyway, neither of them would survive that and that the need to breed this jock stud ass was too overpowering to deny. The shift in position now was just as quick, just as forceful, as the one moments ago, but this time Mike Vrabel was fully conscious of the action.
Part 2
JJ Watt was too busy being surprised by the ease with which Mike Vrabel manhandled his 6'5" 290 lb frame into position to fully realize everything that was happening. The Texan's stud defensive end gave a start as he was being laid back as he realized the bench he was sitting on had been flattened and his defensive coordinator had moved between his splayed thighs. His coach's own 6'4" frame rose powerfully above him, he felt the man's thick, furry thighs resting outside his hips as the dark haired, bearded stud coach removed the flimsy shorts from his stud player's body.
Mike Vrabel heaved a sigh of gratitude at seeing the fully packed jock strap of JJ Watt under the shorts, and smiled leeringly at the obvious and ample hardness of the beefy blond. Hiking Watt's hips up off the bench, Vrableshifted the stud's still injured leg carefully onto one broad shoulder, and more roughly positioned the other leg wide to the side, bending it slightly back as he did. The 42 year old coach gazed lower toward his 28 year old player's winking hole. His eyes, half clouded with feral lust, drank in the sight as his lips parted to let fall a copious wad of spit. The beefy coach worked one rough thumb over and around the clearly eager jock hole as it worked the saliva along the rosebud. He knew that this spit, even added to the jock drool JJ had soaked his cock with, would not really be enough, but he also knew that he did not have anything like the ability (let alone the willingness) to track down anything to make the penetration easier for his player. Looking up to JJ Watt's eyes, half apologetically, Mike Vrabel saw a need...a desperation...in them that exiled his sympathies for the younger man in the space of a heartbeat. A leering, nearly cruel smile split his lips wider, teeth bared like an animal about to take down it's prey.
The stud DE locked eyes with his coach and gave a trembling half nod, choking out a barely audible 'please' as he did so. The furry 42 year old coach shifted his hold on his 28 year old player's beefy body and pulled, even as he slid himself forward. Mike Vrabel's massive cock head met the winking entrance of JJ Watt's hungry jock ass and speared through the ring of muscle. Watt gasped in clear pain even as he reached down and spread his ass wider, eager to allow his thickly hung coach deeper, fuller access to his debased self.
JJ's gasp shifted into a near howl as eight fat, rock hard inches of coach cock tore through his ruined jock body, forcing it's way through quivering, balking muscle until the man's massive nuts crashed against the players wide split crack. With a strength that should not have been surprising, but still caught JJ Watt off guard, Mike Vrabel powered himself upward to a nearly standing position as he bent his player almost in half. Watt dug his fingers even harder into his own ass cheeks desperate to open himself wider to the assault, the moist heat of his coach's left hand splayed across his lightly furred jock butt as the right shifted further along, arm curling around and under the powerful thigh and then clamping painfully, brilliantly, thrillingly on the stud DE's achingly hard cock through the jockstrap he still wore.
Vrabel was to far gone to take it easy on Watt, not fully healed tibia be damned! The desperate hunger flashing in the stud player's eyes told the beefy coach that holding back was the last thing this particular jock bitch wanted, anyway. JJ's cock was was diamond hard under the rough, damp mesh of the jock pouch, the player's nuts were pulled tight and full against his muscular, heaving body. The coach reveled in the rough feel of the fabric under his clawing, jerking hand nearly as much as the player reveled in the scratching, almost painful, friction against his leaking shank as it was expertly, brutally manipulated by the rutting beast above him. A rutting beast that was very nearly unrecognizable as his hot, studly coach.
JJ Watt's muscles strained as he shifted his hands for better leverage. His right gripped the edge of the bench tightly sending the muscles of his arm into a sharp and quivering relief. His left pressed hard against the sweaty, furry chest of his power fucking coach, not trying to push that coach away, only trying to hold him upright so he could witness the powerful desire of his jock fucking stud. The two locked eyes as Vrabel ratcheted up the power behind each deep, tearing thrust of his fat jock fucking spike.
The older man forced his coach cock through quaking, quivering cunt muscle as he repeatedly impaled the stud jock bent eagerly under him. Each slap of his sweat slick flesh against the upturned ass of JJ Watt tightened the steel bands he felt across his chest and around his full, aching balls as he tore through his players willing, greedy jock cunt. Each driving thrust was punctuated with a gasping wheeze from the fully fucked football player under him. The ache in his balls increased with every hard slap of them against the muscle butt each time the two men's bodies crashed together. He knew his player was close to cumming as the cock choked in his grip thickened under his hand, pulsed harder and faster against the rough, sweat soaked mesh of the jock.
For his part, JJ knew his jock fucker was closing in on his own powerful orgasm from the rapidness of the heartbeat against his left palm. Watt was as desperate to feel Vrabel breeding him deep and full as he was to finally spew his own cum into his stretched jock under the top stud's hand.
In a heartbeat, the cock tearing through his ass seemed to grow thicker, to pulse harder against his bruised and beautifully battered prostate. The driving, rutting thrusts of his beefy stud of a coach grew erratic even as they became more and more intense in strength. JJ Watt focused his minds eye on the sensations in his hungry muscle ass, eager and needy to feel the flood of his coach's load flooding him to overflowing. He gingerly bent and locked his legs around the rutting stud's broad, muscular back, spurring his fucker on deeper and harder, pleading desperately for his reward.
"Breed me, stud...fuckin load my jock cunt with your seed...need it so fuckin bad, coach!"
The bestial growls slipping between his stud top's lips as the driving fuck continued were almost terrifying, but in the context of the moment, exactly what JJ Watt needed most to hear. Under his strained left hand, the player felt his coach's heart beating so rapidly it should have torn through the flesh and bone holding it captive.
The howling, when it came, sent JJ Watt's own heart to racing as he felt Mike Vrabel's powerful coach cock grow even harder and thicker inside him in the half second before the first explosive blast of cum rocketed forth into his own heaving body. The stud DE counted at least six massive blasts of virile coach cum flood into his blissfully ruined ass, only losing count at the feel of the massive load being forced out around the base of the still pounding cock on which he was impaled. Watt was so close to his own orgasm he could nearly taste it, the hard clamping, nearly crushing, grip around the base of his jock encased cock, and around his own aching balls brought JJ rudely back from the edge as the still hard coach cock was torn free from his flooded jock cunt.
The brief glance shared between the two men scared JJ in a way he was not used to, sure that his coach was going to deprive him his own pleasure. Mike Vrabel's face was set and hard as he looked at down at his thoroughly fucked defensive end.
"Fucker." Vrabel spat at Watt as he pulled away, hand still choking off the player's load, "You're just a fuckin piece of jock cunt!"
JJ Watt was bracing for the pain of the punch he knew he was about to get, twisted his eyes closed in anticipation of his balls being literally crushed by Mike Vrabel's powerful hand. Neither sensation came.
JJ Watt's eyes flew open to stare down at his stud coach. Mike Vrabel's full lips clamped tight around the jock hole he had just fucked to shreds, the scratchy bearded face was buried tight in the stud DE's ass crack as he gnawed at the puffy jock ass lips, slurping up the combination of his own cum and their fuckslime. Watt felt his aching cock wrenched once again in the forceful grip of his coach. Vrabel yanked the angry, purple shaft free from the stinking mesh pouch of the jockstrap, dragging his teeth sharply along his player's sensitive flesh as he pulled his face up only to impale himself on JJ's own impressive eight inches of jock shaft.
JJ screamed against the glory of the lips and tongue against his overheated shank, reveled at the vacuuming of his coach's talented throat, as the tight, choking grip of the man's hand still held JJ's orgasm in check. The sudden release of that grip was met with an immediate flood of cum pulsing it's way into the sucking mouth of Mike Vrabel.
JJ Was sure he had never had an orgasm this powerful, this full. Shot after shot of defensive end jock sperm flooded onto defensive coordinator tongue as Watt's balls pumped themselves achingly dry. The orgasm was so complete, JJ Watt felt he would surely pass out. Mike Vrabel pulled his handsome, bearded face away from JJ Watt's groin. The two men caught each other's gaze once again as they both struggled to sit upright.
Vrabel pulled Watt to him, locking his lips tight against the younger man's, forcing his tongue, and the remnants of both of their orgasms, infused with jock stud fuckslime, into JJ's unsuspecting mouth. The stud DE moaned when the the realization came, sucking harder on his coach's tongue. After several languid minutes, the two men pulled apart, Vrabel cupped one big hand lightly around Watt's neck.
"If I catch you ignoring doctor's orders ever again, bitch, you will never get my cock back up in you.."
Mike Vrabel rose from the bench and walked away from a well and truly fucked JJ Watt.