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 08-09-2018
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Rookie Retreat 1: The Gathering
Prologue
The house was set for whatever would be thrown at it over the next several days. 2016 rookies of the year, Dak Prescott and Joey Bosa had arrived late yesterday evening and over seen the final preparations by the staff, who they then tipped very generously before sending them on their way for the weekend. Still, after a long day and busy evening in making sure everything was ready, the two had basically just crashed after grilling some steaks and having a few beers each.
Soon, a large group of the best rookies in the league would be descending on this sprawling mansion in a private canyon just outside Palm Springs and the annual weekend of debauchery known as The Rookie Retreat would be underway. Prescott and Bosa both counted themselves very lucky to be able to attend a second time. That was an honor only ever accorded to the Offensive and Defensive ROTY from the previous season, an honor that carried with it the title of de facto hosts for the next years bash.
Next year, the title would pass to two members of the Saints team, and knowing those two horndogs, they had probably started planning their party the minute they had been announced.
Both of the hosts had drifted off to sleep thinking about who and what they were going to do over the next 72+ hours, and how often they were going to make it happen.
- Cooper Kupp of the Rams was just waking up. Actually he had been jolted awake by an insistent pounding on the patio door to his bedroom. Apologizing profusely to Chargers corner back Desmond King, who he had begged for a ride down to PS, he headed quickly to take a shower, grateful that he had at least packed the night before.
Once in the shower though, it became quickly clear that the delay was going to be extended as the Charger stud slipped firmly up behind the Ram, slipping his hard cock between the cheeks of Kupp's muscular ass.
"You think you get to make me wait without any consequence, stud?"
The question was growled into his ear as the black god's teeth nipped at the lobe, cock head pressing hard against the tight ring of muscle, the jock ass balking for just a second or two before opening fully, allowing the defensive back to sink his full length inside the already whimpering jock's tight ass. *
Part 1
TJ Watt had come to LA a day and a half early, planning on surprising his brother Derek and hang out for a while before driving down to PS for the weekend festivities. Unfortunately, Derek had already planned to head out to surprise their other brother, Texans legend JJ for a few days, the two had barely had time for a quick meal, and a hand off of keys for Derek's place before the Charger had to catch his own plane out of town.
The boredom of being alone at his brother's place, the need to do anything at all, is what had led TJ Watt to Anaheim for an afternoon Angels game, and a really great warm up for the festivities to come in Palm Springs. The ticket for the game had been easy enough to come by, he hadn't even had to drop his name for it. Once there and in his seat, he hadn't been bothered a bit; if anyone did recognize him, they didn't mention it or ask for confirmation. It was something of a surprise then, that during the 7th inning stretch, a security guard came up to him and discretely told him that 'some of the Angels would like to meet him', and that if he wanted to, he could meet the guard after the game and be taken back to the locker room.
Which is how he had found himself sitting, relaxed and comfortable, in a chair beside Mike Trout's locker, chatting amiably with the stud outfielder as he stripped off his uniform, seemingly in no rush to end the conversation, or even head off to the shower. It was how TJ had found himself gazing lustily at the beefy baseball player, standing before him in just his compression shorts and jock strap, smelling alluringly of a hard fought game. It was how TJ found himself rising to the man's side, reaching out, and self-assuredly slipping Trout's cup out of his gear before raising it to his face to take an up-close and personal whiff of the man.
"Nice." The Steeler growled as he glanced around the room, hoping Trout would lead them someplace a bit more private.
"This way." The Angel said firmly, with a jerk of his head. Then leading Watt to a small storage room a few steps away.
It was how TJ Watt, fully clothed, found himself on his knees, Trout's shorts and jock hooked under the stud's nuts, while the football god bobbed his face lustily up and along the sweaty, musky cock of the baseball all-star, drinking in the sensations of taste and smell and feel of the cock he was servicing.
It was how Watt found himself swallowing a massive load, and then inviting Trout to come hang with him for the night, pointing out that he had his brother's place all to himself. It was how TJ had found himself driving back to Derek's place, heart hammering in his chest, overly cautious so as not to lose the man following him. It was how he had found himself rutting the rest of the afternoon and evening away with Mike Trout, tearing his brother's bed to shreds as the two jocks fucked and sucked load after load out of each other.
And it was how TJ Watt found himself coming slowly back to consciousness this morning, his body at rest along Trout's own muscular frame, the baseball stud lightly snoring and murmuring to himself in a dream that had him grinding lightly into the mattress, dry humping it.
TJ rose up onto one elbow, shifting the sheet away from their naked jock flesh as he did, and gazed along his sleeping fuck buddy's left flank, tracing his fingers up along the thick thigh as he did, eyes locked onto the slight gap in Trout's ass where his crack parted teasingly thanks to the position of his legs. The Steeler slid one thumb deeper into that crack and spread it wider still, drooling at the sight of the puffy ring that had so eagerly milked his cock twice last night, the surge of memory reminding him that he was achingly hard. Watt lowered his head, wedging his nose and tongue in, opening the man wider still, eager to taste his deepest self once again.
Watt was pretty sure the first several grinds back against his face by the muscular jock butt were those of a man still mostly asleep, it wasn't until Trout spread his legs wider and reached behind him to pull TJ's face tighter against him that the Steeler was sure the man was awake.
"Ohhhhhhhh, FUCK TEEEEEEEEEEJ!"
The growling acknowledgment of his actions spurred Watt on as he dug his tongue deeper into the grinding, writhing hunk of flesh willingly offering himself, opening himself. TJ thought briefly about not changing things up from last night, of letting this morning play out in exactly the same way, but the twitching need in his own jock ass overrode those fleeting thoughts. Still, Trout ground his ass back, plastering his hole to the sucking lips and digging, searching tongue driving past his sphincter and into his hole. The Steeler stud allowed himself several more seconds to drink in the offering, smelling and tasting the dried remnants of their last fuck, snaking one big hand under the writhing outfielder to wrap around Trout's hard, pulsing shaft.
A last, sharp stab of his tongue inside the clutching hole, a quick jerk back of his head, a painful tug and twist on the rock hard cock in his grip and Trout was on his back and in TJ's over heated, saliva flooded mouth, the Steeler taking him balls deep without a moments hesitation, lips clamped tight around the base of the shaft as he sucked and swallowed hard, tongue dancing along the vein etched shaft, drawing one long, deep moan from the Angel stud''s lips. Watt let Trout fuck his throat hard for several long minutes, reveling in the feel of his nose being smashed hard against the stud's pelvic bone, savoring the taste of the first drops of the outfielder's pre cum, cupping the stud's over loaded nut sack in his sweaty palm, but always keeping his lusty mind on the ultimate prize.
Trout was taken aback with the sudden force of TJ ripping away from him, from off his cock. As the Steeler stretched up and over him he thought fleetingly that he might have gone too far in his face fucking thrusts. With a look of almost angry determination, TJ reached the jar of albolene on the night table and opened it quickly before digging his fingers inside, surprising the Angel when, instead of slapping the greasy lube on his ass, the stud smeared it on his cock. Mike Trout watched in awe, mouth agape, as the stud linebacker threw one massive leg across his waist, and backed his massive, muscular jock ass back against Trout's achingly hard cock head. The two stud's kept their gazes locked, the merest flutter in TJ's the only outward sign of what was to come as Trout's crown brushed teasingly across the winking ass lips of Watt's hole. The Steeler sucked in a deep breath, and rode himself back onto the broad, flaring head of the Angel's thick cock, pushing himself steadily along the full, nearly eight inch length of it, loving the stretch of it's massive girth, grinding against Mike's pubes in a hard, twisting motion when he bottomed out against the hard groin, sighing in languid, powerful lust at the impalement.
Bringing his hands to splay over the broad, powerful chest under him, TJ kept up the grinding motion against his fuck buddy, smiling down at Mike Trout as he got used to the feel of the stud deep inside him. Pushing against the man's pecs, tensing and working his legs, the kneeling jock bottom rose back up the full length of Mike Trout's cock, stopping with practiced assurance just at the point where it would pop completely out before riding back down the full, fiery hot length of the shaft, riding the stud outfielder like a show pony, imprinting every inch of the widely stretching jock shaft on his memory banks, loving the tight, deep, bruising dig of Trout's fingertips in his already overly strained thighs. His own cock thumped heavy and hard against the Angel's abs as he rode, belching out a stream of pre cum each time he nearly crushed his balls against the hard pelvis under him, eyes locked together, twin twisted, leering smiles split their lips as one massive jock stud rode the cock of another in abject lust.
Not a small man himself, Mike Trout nonetheless struggled to grind up against TJ's ass, let alone thrust, as the mountain of muscle weighed him down thrillingly. That fact contributed to the lusty gaze with which the Angel looked up across the broad expanse of chest and drank in the sight of the massive stud riding him with the wantonness of a back alley whore. The steady, rhythmic thump of the TJ's nearly nine inch cock against his gut punctuating every beat of lust rippling through the outfielder's body as 250 plus pounds of jock flesh rose and fell above him, the stud's tight jock snatch milking against his cock. Trout was able to find his own fuck rhythm, although not an ideal one, after several minutes but needed more.
Needed to control this rut. Needed to control this whimpering, moaning mass of muscle and bone him the way he, himself had been controlled less than twelve hours ago. With one perfectly, serendipitously out of sync drive, Trout managed to unseat the riding, writhing stud, and moving quickly, had the man flat on his back, legs raised and painfully spread, Trout looked down at the sweaty ball of lust under him and stared hard at him. The look of understanding, of surrender, that washed across TJ Watt's face, the slight parting of the lips, the flick of tongue along them, the lowering of his eyelids just so, and especially the bare minimum of a nod, and Mike Trout rose up on his knees.
Leaning ominously over the man, lining his angrily hard cock back up to the quivering hole of the jock bitch's ass, he drove forward with a strength he didn't know he had, driving the full length of his fat cock back inside the bigger man with a single, bone rattling thrust driving TJ's body several inches toward the headboard as he bottomed out inside the tight, humid hole. The Steeler pressed one arm hard against the headboard in an almost futile effort to keep from crashing hard against it, the other wrapping around one of Trout's powerfully flexing thighs, eagerly digging into the hard flesh, urging the man to greater depth and harder degrees of force. Mouth open in a silent scream, TJ took the glorious fuck, his cock harder than it had been in ages, pre cum pulsing out onto his sweaty gut as he was fucked without mercy.
Deep.
Hard.
Violently.
The swearing insults that poured from Trout's full sensual lips fueled TJ's lust drunk need, his desire to be used by this magnificent man like the jock bitch he so often denied himself the right to be. The Angel's sweat rained onto his flesh in massive sizzling drops, mingling with his own as the stud tore through the flesh and muscle of his jock cunt as they rode a wave of lust that seemed light years more profound than their blind rutting of the night before. Still driving hard into the man below him, Trout twisted the powerful lower body around the fulcrum of his cock, pinning one leg painfully under his knee, raising the other over his shoulder, and then leaning forward to stretch it tight, he dug one hand on the linebacker's broad shoulder to press it flat against the bed, refusing to let TJ shift his gaze away as he ramped the speed and depth of his rocketing thrusts farther and farther up.
"You fuckin' need this bad."
It was not a question, simply a statement of fact. TJ Watt nodded, anyway.
"You chase after anything your brothers have. You desperately need to show you are just the same as them, just as good."
TJ Watt was still nodding, dumbly but honestly, at the rutting beast using his ass.
"How much does it turn you on to know that I have bred your jock bitch brother in this very bed close to a dozen times?"
"OH, fuuuuuuck!"
"You need my seed so fuckin' bad, bitch. Worse than Derek. Maybe I shouldn't let you have it."
The look of fear that washed over TJ's face was hot in it's intensity as the Steeler's hands scrambled painfully to grasp the rutting frame of Mike Trout, terrified that the stud would pull out of him and walk away.
"NOOOOOOOOOOO, please!!!! fuckmefuckme, please...breed my bitch ass."
The frightened, whimpering man below him, begging for his seed, desperate to be bred, to be marked, turned Mike Trout on like nothing before. Drove the Angel to pound harder against the bruised, straining flesh of his bitch, to drive deeper into his ass, to stretch his cunt and claim it for his own.
The guttural, twisted laugh of conquest that rumbled from Mike Trout's body and out his mouth, the twisted, almost evil leer splitting his lips and darkening his eyes turned TJ on like crazy, the jock bitch felt his balls seize up tight against his body, felt the tell tale swelling of his impending orgasm. All he could do to announce it's imminence was to gasp and moan a feeble 'oh god, oh fuck' before his jock cunt clamped down tight on the pile driving cock tearing into him and spilling his seed on his brother's sheets. Blast after blast of cum being fucked out of him as he felt the already massively thick cock swell inside him and begin to fire out it's own load.
Trout's body quaked dangerously seven times as he blasted his seed deep into TJ Watt's quivering, milking jock hole, gasping in turn with the limp, fucked out beast lying under him, tamed. Both mens hearts racing as they came down from the massive high of their shared lust.
The gentleness of the kiss that Mike Trout laid upon TJ Watt's lips was disorientingly incongruous to the thrilling violence of the fuck they had just shared.
"We need to shower and head out, buddy. I have to pick my other half up at the airport, and you need to head out to your rookie fuck fest."
TJ looked up at Mike, surprised.
"You know about that?"
"You football guys always think you have a corner on the depravity." Trout smiled back, laying one last nipping kiss on TJ's lips as he pulled out of the still quivering jock hole.
- In Kansas City, Chiefs corner back Kareem Hunt had finally met up with Bengals defensive end Carl Lawson as planned. Well, planned except for the late arrival of Lawson's flight. The two jocks had hoped for a chance to reacquaint themselves, and had everything gone to plan, the 45 minutes between flights would have allowed that.
Now though, there was under 20 by the time they met up, and just under 15 by the time they found a suitably out of the way restroom. The two stud's devoured each others lips and tongues, 5'11" Kareem rising on his toes to meet his 6'2" fuck buddy's kiss, as they dug their hands into each others pants, frantically stroking the others cock, whispered moaning wishes for more time here and now going unanswered.
Lawson whimpered as Hunt replayed that night at the combine when the corner back had lifted Lawson's massive legs over his shoulders and plowed the bigger man's tight jock snatch deep and hard. The smaller continuing on, reminding the massive DE how he had been begging, as recently as last night on the phone, to have the 5'11" massively hung Chief tear his way through his Bengal snatch once more.
Kareem Hunt drew his cum slick hand out of Carl Lawson's pants, raising it to the bigger stud's lips, and watching as the Bengal devoured his own cum from the cupped palm, cumming himself at the depraved energy of the sight.
Smiling as he watched the still whimpering big man lick his own hand clean with clearly ravenous hunger. *
Part 2
More than a dozen men were currently on their way to Palm Springs for this year's Rookie Retreat. That knowledge, coupled with the fact that this year's hosts were already there making sure everything was ready, drove Christian McCaffrey to further, frustrated distraction. The day had not started out promising, arriving at the airport to discover that his flight was massively delayed and that he would not make his connection unless another plane magically appeared at the airport, he had made his way to the ticket counter with minimal hope that something might be able to be done.
A few flirting minutes with the strawberry (unnatural, surely) blond, overly made up matron behind the counter (thank god she is a fan!), and the prospects actually ended up a bit better, although far more convoluted. Instead of one layover, there would be two, but then instead of having to drive out from LAX, he would fly directly into PS from Phoenix, thereby saving a couple of hours of drive time and arriving at the rented mansion well before he would have otherwise.
All in all, no reason to feel frustrated at all, except for the fact that; now that he had reached Phoenix he found himself crazy impatient to actually be in Palm Springs, desperate for the weekend long sex fest to begin. Mostly it was the fault of his teammates and fuck buddies. Cam Newton and Greg Olsen had conspired to keep him from even stroking out a quick load, let alone get one pumped up his ass or down his throat for the last two weeks, telling him he should be on the most precarious ledge possible for the first round.
That in itself might have been OK had the two not insisted on tying him to the chair in Cam's master bedroom and fucking the holy hell out of each other right in front of him.
Just as he started to think that he should stop bouncing his leg as it only reminded him how hard his cock was, he caught sight of two men that brought a massive, lusty grin to his face, a grin that stayed plastered there even as he waved them over.
Cleveland Browns studs, DE Myles Garrett and TE David Njoku didn't know McCaffrey well, but the three had met briefly at both the combine and on draft day. The fact of seeing the pale blond here in the VIP lounge brought answering smiles to both mens faces, and the three quickly found themselves in mostly hushed conversation about the weekend. After drinking in the massive frames of the two jacked studs while telling them the story of his journey so far, after realizing that there was now no possible way his cock would go down, he casually rose and said he needed to take a piss, reminding them that there was only about 30 minutes left before their flight would begin boarding. He was exceedingly proud of himself for not looking over his shoulder to see if they were following.
Almost before the door was closed and locked behind them in the unisex/family style pisser, Myles had leaned against the wall, spreading his legs wide and hooked a massive hand around behind Christian's neck to pull the smaller stud face first into his crotch, his other hand roughly pushing his sweats to mid thigh, exposing his massive cock to the Panther's awestruck gaze. Already as long, and possibly thicker than Cam's monster and not quite fully hard, bright pink head poking out from dark, dark brown foreskin, McCaffrey's mouth watered at the sight, even as his lower body vibrated at the lusty feel of David pressing against him from behind, sliding his 6'4" frame along his jutting ass to crouch behind him, pulling the blond's shorts down as he went.
McCaffrey felt the first insistent contact of Njoku's tongue against his jock hole at the same time he slid his tongue greedily under Garrett's silky foreskin and swiped it around the plum sized crown, moaning deeply at the rimjob as he clamped his lips around the shaft in his mouth, sliding down to take more of the still hardening beast as he hiked his ass back hard against the TE's face. Quickly all three men fought off a moment of regret, each knowing that they did not have time to do full justice to the other two in their midst, quickly realizing that they still had the rest of the long weekend, and that this rough, dirty, skanky restroom fuck and suck would serve as a welcome ice breaker for the festivities yet to come.
Christian nursed around the head and upper half of Myles' massive cock, the angle allowed by the confined space not conducive to his best work, he sought to make up for it in the pressure of his tongue tracing along the veins of the beast, and the deep, suctioning swallows of his throat muscles over the massive head. The angle got a little bit better, surprisingly, as David rose behind him, lifting the kid's hips so he could grind his own massive cock along the Panther's lightly furred crack, teasing the winking hole with added pressure each time his cock head brushed against it. McCaffrey moaned around the throat plugging cock in his mouth at the sound and feel of Njoku's spit hitting his ass, just above the hole, and the added pressure as he used his cock to smear it in and around the very ridge of his tight ass. Toes barely touching the floor, McCaffrey sank another two or three inches along the shaft in his mouth as he was entered from behind by a cock that felt every inch as big as Cam's, exhaling sharply through his nose, and whimpering around the beast knocking at his gullet as the full length of tight end cock sank quickly and forcefully into his jock snatch.
Each powerful drive of David Njoku into his ass pushed the Panther running back further and further along the suffocating length of Myles Garrett's monster, knocking the air out of his lungs in dizzying bursts as the two massive studs spit roasted his own 5'11", 205 lb self like he was nothing more than a rag doll. 6'4" nearly 250 lb Njoku pile driving his greedy, clutching ass; while the 6'5" 275 lb jock god that was Myles Garrett raped his throat, deep and steady. McCaffrey felt his own pre cum oozing from his cock with each driving thrust from either end, felt the tension rising in his nuts almost painfully as the two black jock gods took easy and full control of his body, impaling him on close to 2 feet of hard, fiery hot stud cock.
Myles Garrett dug his massive hands into Christian's skull, pressing hard as he face fucked the hot blond, his eyes drinking in the sight of his buddy, David Njoku laying waste to the Panther's taut, muscular running back ass, impressed that the kid had neither passed out nor fought back against the rough treatment of the pair of them. He loved tag teaming alongside Njoku, whether male or female between their rutting bodies, their massive and massively hard cocks, he loved seeing the thick muscles ripple across his buddy's body, loved seeing the sweat trickle down the massive chest as the tight end slipped deeper and deeper into his lust. Garrett reached across McCaffrey's back, pressing still more of his cock into the blond's mouth, and pulled up his buddy's shirt, leering at the sight of the beefy jock's muscles clenching and relaxing with each drive into the Panther's ass. His leer twisted into a sneer, matched by Njoku's own as he leaned over closer, mashing McCaffrey even harder between them, pounding his shaft deep into the blond's throat as he latched his lips and teeth over one of David's rock hard nipples, nuzzling on it as he felt the power of his buddy's fuck strokes emanating out through his body, Njoku moaning at the feeling and then laughing maniacally at the whimpering, but still eager, struggle of the man impaled between them.
He somehow managed to choke back a roar that would have alerted the entire airport what was going on as his cock swelled dangerously, before firing the first blast of his load deep inside Christian's still clutching ass, the familiar look of his buddy seeding a slut hole, coupled with the fact that that slut hole belonged to one of the top rookies in the league set Myles Garrett off in a throat clogging, nearly drowning, flood of cum that washed over McCaffrey's still dancing, searching tongue. For two full minutes, the Browns tandem pulsed and oozed cum into the gasping body of the Panther from both ends, sucking in deep breaths to calm the heart rates before they even thought of pulling out of the blond piece of jock cunt between them, and allowing him to do the same.
As he rose finally, shakily between the two men, Christian was amazed to see the massive amount of cum he, himself had unloaded onto the tile floor. Not remembering a bigger load since his first 3-way with Cam and Greg, and never remembering cumming without realizing it. Njoku reached stealthily into his bag, quickly settled on his choice and jammed the plug up McCaffrey's still gaping ass before the Panther even knew what had happened, he smiled as the two jock gods pulled his shorts back up, straightened his shirt, and smoothed out his short hair before making themselves presentable.
As they were boarding the plane just minutes later, they were informed that it was only about a third full, and that they could sit wherever, smiling as they crammed themselves into a single row, Christian in the middle.
- Forty-Niner's rookie defensive end, Soloman Thomas was stuck in traffic on the freeway, half-way through East LA, heart hammering in his chest as the CHP car pulled almost parallel to him as it moved toward the exit ramp. The nerves had far less to d o with 'driving while black' than they did about the activity going on hopefully completely out of the trooper's view.
His teammate, wide receiver Trent Taylor was sprawled, completely naked, across the front seats and console of the SUV, bearded face bobbing greedily as the 5'9" pocket jock sucked avidly at the nearly nine inch cock he had fought to fish out of his buddy's shorts. Thomas' cock swelled under the dancing, coaxing pressure of the tongue, his nuts tightening in blissful agony, as his load boiled, still barely inside them.
Barely catching himself in the sharp, jerking moan of his release, the last sane synapse in his addled brain shifted into what he hoped looked to the cop like any other straining, self massage of the neck of just another stressed but patient driver.
Too late he felt his fuck buddy rise away from him, suddenly to appear in the line of sight of the CHP. He just managed to catch the sight of the trooper's face slipping from a shocked reaction to a leering nod of understanding, one hand moving off the steering wheel and into his lap as his cruiser moved, benignly, farther down the exit ramp and out of sight. *
Part 3
Joey Bosa was regretting the shared decision with Dak Prescott to hold off on any sex play until at least some of the others arrived. As the minutes ticked slowly away to the first expected partiers, it became harder and harder to ignore the humming vibrations in his over eager balls. Given the obvious swell visible in Dak's heavy cock, he was pretty sure his co-host for this debauched weekend was feeling the same way.
The Cowboys' quarterback was lounging, eyes mostly closed, on a floating lounger in the massive pool of the rented mansion, fingertips kissed gently by the crystal clear water, as he drifted lazily around the deep end, his cock half chubbed at the twisted thoughts of jock sex running through his mind. In a little over two hours some of the hottest rookies in the league would begin arriving to this weekend's oasis in the California desert, and he couldn't wait.
But then again, maybe he didn't have to. Through slitted eyes he watched as Joey Bosa drank his body in like a fine wine, gaze raking up and down his body as the Chargers' cock swelled noticeably. Prescott called up the memory of last years party when the two had had their ceremonial hook up as the year's two top rookies.
And both of them had topped.
Dak could still feel the impressive girth and enviable length of Joey's proud cock ravaging his greedy hole. A hole that was twitching at the thought of being filled again. He made no effort to slip quietly off his lounger to swim across the pool, hopeful that he would draw his companion's notice.
Really, though, how could Joey NOT notice. The thickly muscled frame splashing into the cool water, powerful legs and arms casually propelling himself to the pool's edge, and especially, the wide spread between the legs, the winking, fleeting view of Cowboy hole, as Dak pulled himself up and out of the water, the slapping sound of wet, bare feet crossing the patio to the outdoor shower area. Joey's cock was nearly to full hardness by the time he, himself slipped off his lounger to follow, pausing as he turned the corner, gazing lustily at the perfectly athletic frame of the quarterback under the running water of the shower, silver streams running brightly down his flaring back, over his muscular ass, legs slightly spread, head bowed under the flow. The 6'5" defensive end's cock was throbbing by the time he took the last four steps needed to press up against Dak's own 6'2" frame, laying a nuzzling kiss at the nape of the jock stud's neck to seal and complete the contact.
"You don't really wanna wait any more than me, do you?" Joey punctuated his question with increased pressure of his cock along one of Dak's powerful glutes.
"Fuck, no, man!" The quarterback's breathless response came as he laid his head back against Bosa's shoulder, spreading his legs just a bit wider, sliding slightly to draw the rock hard Charger cock into his crack.
Prescott felt the frustration of a dismal sophomore campaign start to drain away as Bosa began his journey down along the muscular back, kissing along the spine with his searching, searing lips, massaging the muscles along his sides and shoulders. The Cowboy leaned forward, bringing one arm up to the shower wall as a head rest while reaching behind him with the other, fingers running through the Charger's short, damp hair, jutting his ass further out as the defensive end's chin wedged itself into the top split of his ass crack.
"That's it, stud...get that shit, baby!"
The deep rumble of Dak's voice offering himself up freely, eagerly, sent a jolt straight to Joey's over loaded nut sack, a sharp pulse rocketing along the full length of his cock. He dug his scruffy chin deeper in between the muscular cheeks, sliding downward as lips and tongue continued to tease along smooth, warm jock flesh. The Cowboy's wrinkled chute quivered at the first touch of the Charger's tongue, the teasing, eager sweep of it around the perimeter. Bosa dug his fingers deep into the powerful glutes, spreading them apart, widening his point of access, before spearing his talented tongue through the protection of the stud's sphincter. Prescott's moan echoed against the tile, rising well above the sound of the flowing water raining over them both.
The hand suddenly appearing between his legs, sweeping up across his balls teasingly before grasping his hard cock, raised goose bumps across Dak's skin and drew a prolonged, gasping breath from deep in his lungs as Joey attacked his hole with a long and powerfully digging tongue. The Cowboy quarterback loved to get rimmed, lived for the feel of some stud spearing his hole, devouring it, drowning it in hot, wet spit nearly always set his body into a constant hum of intense vibration, centering always on the hardwired connection between his nuts and ass lips. What Joey Bosa was doing to him now with his dancing, digging tongue, accompanied by teasing, flitting fingers, had reduced to Dak Prescott to a whimpering mess in a frighteningly short period of time, fear rocketing to the foreground of his mind that he might cum way too soon under the Charger's miraculous ministrations.
Prescott's rapidly rising lust was nearly completely choked off in a perfect hybrid of pleasure and pain as Bosa's lightly teasing, almost floating, grip on his cock shifted to a sudden strangling yank on his swollen nut sack. Joey jerked the sensitive balls down hard, causing Dak to arch hard back off the wall and impale his ass harder still onto the Charger's deeply digging tongue. The increased pressure, the violently tickling sensation of the appendage spearing into his hole dizzied the Cowboy, who could only reflexively ride harder and harder back on the moist muscle buried in his snatch, a roaring shout of need exploding from his lungs, echoing off the tiled semi enclosure and sending birds fluttering from the feeble shade of the canyon side. Tangling his hands tighter into Bosa's short hair, he dragged the man harder against him, even as he ground himself back against the jock stud's face.
His cock achingly, angrily hard, Prescott murmured pleading moans, begging unashamedly to get fucked, needing it as bad, as much as he had ever needed anything in his life. The digging fingers of his tormenting god twirling around the edges of his jock hole worked the quarterback into even more of a frenzy, one finger, then later another, slipping inside him alongside the digging, devouring tongue only provided partial satisfaction, no matter how long or thick they were, how deeply they slid inside, how thrilling they felt nudging his prostate.
"pleasepleasepleaseplease..."
The constant, gasping, mewling refrain should have embarrassed him in his debased need. They only fueled the fire of his desire.
And suddenly, Dak Prescott felt trapped in a vacuum, feeling nothing at all, aware of even less. It seemed long, painful minutes later that Joey Bosa was beside him, 6'5" and 280 lb frame pressed lightly against his side, fingers once again lightly teasing the very outer rim of his needy, desperate hole, breath hot and humid on his ear.
"That is one sweet ass, Prescott." The Charger's growl echoing inside his head as the Cowboy fought to meet his gaze. "You need way more than my tongue, though, don't you baby?"
Dak had to fight, to focus some part of his brain away from his crotch to even be able to manage a feeble nod, only noticing after he had that Joey had once again moved completely away from him. The Cowboy turned slowly, heart catching in his throat as he caught the full glory of the stud Charger sprawled casually on the tiled bench behind him, legs spread, massive chest heaving steadily, nine obscenely thick inches of uncut cock being lightly stroked by a greasy hand, flaring head hiding and reappearing under the stretched foreskin as Joey lubed it up, staring almost threateningly, and definitely daringly into the quarterback's heavy lidded eyes.
Prescott shut the water off and took two steps toward the pumped up body of the massive stud before him, throwing one powerful thigh over and across Bosa's mid-section, leaning forward, hopeful but nervous that his move would be rejected, moaning in lustful gratitude when the Charger's lips met his own, the defensive end's tongue invading his mouth, claiming it, his own hard, leaking cock trailing along the thickly muscled gut as he lowered himself greedily toward the nirvana of Joey Bosa's drooling cockhead, breathing out a sigh of abject, debased thanksgiving as the broad crown slipped painfully past his jock hole's lips.
Joey held his massive cock upright, forefinger and thumb of one big hand wrapped tight around the base, his other hand holding on to one of Dak's powerful, straining thighs, encouraging the quarterback downward, letting the stud Cowboy set his own pace until just over half of his pulsing, throbbing cock was inside the moaning jock bitch. Clenching his jaw tight, the defensive end shot his hips up off the bench, punching the remaining cock hard into Dak's protesting hole, forcing a choke, sobbing gasp from somewhere deep inside the stud quarterback's soul. The feel of the jock snatch trying to balk against his rock hard flesh, coupled with the betraying pulse of Prescott's slick pre cum belching out onto his abs brought a rising feeling of power to Joey's own lust drunk brain. Jaw relaxing, face half softening, lips slightly parting in a smile of appreciation before his handsome face twisted, curdling into a leering, sneering snarl as he dug hard up into his bitch's tight, quivering ass once more, taking ownership of the Cowboy quarterback's entire being.
The constant, rhythmic thump of Prescott's hard, oozing cock against his abs spurred Bosa to drive upward harder and harder against the powerful ass, burying himself deep and full into the man, bruising perfectly the quarterback's prostate on each deep, digging thrust. Dak pressed his hands, spread wide, across the muscular plates of Joey's pecs, pressing against them instinctively in an effort to rise and fall on the defensive end's massive cock, to help the mountain of jock muscle fuck him, clenching his sphincter tight against the cock inside him, milking it when it was fully seated up his desperately needy ass, making it fight against his pressure each and every time Bosa moved to withdraw, gasping, nearly hyperventilating as he rode, rocking forward to rub his own achingly hard eight inch cock a long Joey's hard, sweaty gut, then back to add pressure from his tightening channel to the Charger's cock, and from the cock to his own thrillingly bruised and battered prostate.
The two rutting studs almost missed the tell tale signs of their impending orgasms, the shortening of breath as they rode harder and harder against, into and on each other, the swelling of their cocks, one buried deep inside the other man, his digging hard and hot against the sweat slicked musculature of the other. Dak reached for his cock, leaning back precariously, just managing to grip and stroke once before Joey slapped it away hard with a roared 'NO', yanking hard on the Cowboy's sore, nearly crushed nuts in punishment, achieving the desired goal.
The sudden increase of the violence of their rut shocked Prescott nearly numb, scrambling, the cowboy managed to plant one hand on the slick shower floor precariously as Bosa rode harder and harder into his aching jock cunt. Three bone rattling thrusts from the defensive end threatened to dislocate the quarterback's wide splayed hips. The swelling of the cock inside him was complimented by the swelling roar slipping from between Bosa's lips as he punched one last violently hard thrust into Prescott's jock cunt and his load poured out of his cock, flooding the gasping, half terrified stud's bowels.
Well before Dak Prescott had been able to fully savor the soothing load pouring into his battered hole, Joey Bosa had roughly torn his still hard and oozing cock free of the clutching jock cunt. Bringing his legs slightly closer together and leaning suddenly over the Cowboy quarterback, the Charger clamped his lips tight around the flaring ridge of Prescott's leaking cockhead., inhaling the wobbling, precariously perched stud's full length in one powerful swallow, rasping his tongue hard against the swollen, vein etched shaft as he sucked harder and harder. Digging two fingers into the ruined ass he had just vacated, Bosa dug deep, sliming his fingertips up with the remnants of their fuck before sliding them out and, raising his massive arm, forcing them between Prescott's gaping lips, vibrating at the feel of them clamping around his digits as they slurped the fuck slime off greedily, then repeating the motion, digging more and more of his cum out of the gaping jock cunt each time, feeling more and more debased lust in Prescott's desperate slurps each time.
As he jammed his fingers back into the gaping, pleading mouth of his conquest for the sixth time, he felt the jock bitch's cock swell violently against his tongue, pulling back quickly until just the tip rested on his tongue he was rewarded with the first powerful shots of Prescott's cum as the stud quarterback devolved into a rutting, cum firing, barely human beast. Savoring the taste of him for several long seconds, letting at least half of the massive load slip down his throat to his growling stomach, he suddenly dropped the man hard against the tiled floor, collapsing, almost lifeless himself, on top of the wheezing, moaning jock and clamping his lips hard over his bitch's, letting the rest of the load flow into the mouth of the man who had fired it out.
Their cocks pulsed powerfully against each other, barely softening as they came down from the dizzying heights of their rutting connection.
Sated, for the moment.