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Subject: straight jock boy chronicles love to hear from all of you. xoxo – jasper ps. don’t forget to donate to ess “(Sam…)” “School starts tomorrow. You’re on your own.” “SAM!” “You deal with Coach yourself. I didn’t train a nasty slut. You’re on your own.” “(SAM!)” Ryan’s stomach turned. The 19-year-old jock finally stepped into Coach’s office after the first preseason practice, sweaty and exhausted. His body ached, filled with soreness and tension, apprehension, and anxiety. With Coach inexplicably absent that first day, the new assistant coach had pushed everyone’s physical limits to the maximum out on the field that afternoon, and Ryan was anxious that he was called out to do more laps even though others fucked up just as much as he did. Ryan ran as fast as he could, knowing for certain that it was Coach’s doing, making him stay late like he did so many times during his freshman year. As the teenage jock concluded his final lap, his cock throbbed, harder and harder. His empty hole… quivered in uncontrollable excitement and dread as he returned to an empty locker room. Ryan kicked off his smelly sneakers and socks, peeled off his sweat-soaked t-shirt and shorts, feeling the hot locker room air — musky, pungent and smelling of feet, sweat and ass with a tinge of piss and cum — hit his near-naked body. Ryan adjusted his 8-inch, rock-hard cock indecently clad by a useless white jockstrap, flipped his wet baseball cap backwards like he knew Coach would want — his heart pounding, his fingers and toes trembling, his cock nearly leaking, and his hole… begging, gaping and desperate, ready for the abuse he knew he’d have to endure with his Coach. “OH FUCK!! SHIT!! GET THE FUCK OUT!!” Ryan could not believe it. His puppy-dog excitement and nervous expectancy suddenly squashed. Derek was bent over Coach’s desk, facing the door, cursing at the sight of an unwanted, unwelcomed third party. The look of horror, shock and instant shame froze across the fifth-year senior’s grimacing face as Ryan barged in. The 6’9 basketball player — dark-haired and hard-bodied — was naked and holding on to the edge of Coach’s desk for dear life, choking down low groans and deep grunts as Coach — fully dressed in his typical polo shirt and long pants — fucked him. Slow and deep. In and out. So slow and deliberate was Coach’s fucking that Ryan could hear every millimeter of Coach’s cock penetrating Derek’s unmistakably tight ass. Derek winced in pain every time Coach bottomed out, grunting and gritting his teeth, his eyes burning with rage and shame as he stared down Ryan, whose rosy cheeks instantly turned white as a ghost. Ryan froze. He couldn’t move. His stomach boiled with pangs of jealousy as he watched the older athlete`s lean, hard body get violated by Coach. Derek, though not particularly handsome or cute in the stereotypical way, possessed a rough, military, bad-boy quality about him that many girls found hot in college. A half grin appeared on Coach’s face as he felt Derek’s no-longer virgin hole grip tighter around his cock, staring Ryan down as he fucked his new bottom jock. “(STOP! STOP! STOP!!!)” Derek groaned in protest, struggling to pull away from his compromising and painful position as Coach pushed him down on the desk picked up the pace. Derek’s buried his head in his large hands as he felt Coach, relentless, continue fucking while Ryan – standing there in just his jockstrap and baseball cap – watched, stunned. Derek’s tight, muscled body – lean and long – hairy in all the right places, glistened with sweat. His cock was soft. “(JESUS! FUCK! FUCK! COACH! SLOW! SLOW!!! FUCK! STOP! FUCK!)… GET… GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE FORD! FUCKIN’ FAG! PERVERT! SHIT! FUCK!!” With that desperate grunt and moan from an enraged Derek, Ryan snapped to and rushed out of Coach’s office, shutting the door behind him tightly. He knew what would happen next; standing against the door, Ryan could hear Coach’s balls slapping against Derek’s tightly muscled ass and thighs, hearing Derek’s deep, resonant grunts escalate in volume as Coach slammed his full body inside the older athlete. “(DON’T CUM IN ME… UGHN! COACH… DON’T U FUCKIN’ DARE CUM IN ME… UGHNN! UGHNN! FUCKK! FUCK! FUCK!)” Ryan heard bursa escort the familiar, animalistic roar from the other side of the door. He knew immediately… Coach dumped his load inside Derek. “(You fucking sick twisted man… fucking wacked out, Coach… HE SAW US!!!!!!!!)” Ryan could hear Derek panting and peeling his sweaty body from Coach’s desk. The younger jock knew the feeling well – Derek’s ass cheeks were undoubtedly red from Coach’s rough slaps and spanks, his thighs trembling from being spread so wide, his hole… fucked open, wet and hot. “(We done here??! You said just this once… are you gonna shut him up?!)” … “I’M, I’M, I’M… I’M GONNA CUM! UGHN! GUHN! UGHN! FUCK!! FUCK!!!!!” Ryan gasped, panted, groaned, screamed. “HARDER! HARDER! HARDER! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!!!!!!” It was four in the morning. Ryan was trashed. He didn’t care. His gym clothes were ripped from his body hours ago, even his trademarked white jock strap. … Ryan had run from the gym after practice, after barging into Coach’s office, after witnessing… No. Ryan just ran. Blindly. Filled with rage, screaming as he ran off campus. He kicked over a trash can, punched a wall, knocked over bikes. He ended up at his bar, completely soaked with sweat, his white tank top nearly see-through, his shorts clinging damply to his perfect bubble ass, his baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, his adorable face wet and flushed red. His body burned with rage, jealousy, and confused hysteria. Ryan didn’t care. The bar was pretty empty. He gave the bartender a look, one filled with desperation, as he reached over the counter and grabbed a full bottle of bourbon. The bartender let Ryan by, sensing some serious shit went down, as the popular jock boy took his bottle to the bathroom to drink alone. … Ryan was trashed. He couldn’t remember who first came into the bathroom with him. The blond jock was slumped on the ground by the sink, the bottle half empty. The man must have said something, or maybe not, before Ryan threw his head back, clenching the bottle tightly, as he felt a stranger remove his dirty sneakers and socks. He felt the man’s large hands massaging his smelly feet. He must have groaned. Or moaned, as the hands were soon joined by a hot tongue, mouth. Ryan tasted sweet, musky, boyish, sexily stinky. The man couldn’t believe it. He’d waited at the bar all summer, ever since rumors of a straight jock boy – one who puts out – surfaced months ago. Here’s the golden boy in front of him, his body radiating heat and sex, his worked out body smelling of ripe boyish manhood. His bare feet tasted rank and sexy all at the same time… just imagine how his ass tastes. The jock boy was begging for it. “(Fuck me…)” Ryan took a large swig of the bourbon and whispered, his voice breaking. His eyes still closed as a stranger savored the straight jock’s stinky feet. “(Fuck me… Just fuck me…!)” Ryan felt the eager stranger roughly peeling off his sweaty clothes. His eyes still shut tightly, Ryan took another big swig as he felt the bathroom’s sticky, hot air on his bare skin and the warm bathroom tiles against his bare ass. He was completely naked. The man inhaled Ryan’s jock scent as he removed every article of clothing. Before him, a naked, blond jock boy, his body tight, chiseled, smooth. Ryan finally put down the bottle and turned around and got on all fours, exposing his ass to the man behind him, arching his back. After a pregnant pause, swallowing all his fears and regrets and inhibitions, with his voice shaking and quivering, Ryan pleaded, “Fuck me.” … “FUCK! FUCK! I’M! I’M! I’M! GONNA! FUCK! FUCK!! CUM! CUM! SHIT! FUCK! HARDER! YES! YES!!!!!!” Ryan’s knees ached, his legs and arms shaking from being fucked doggy style for hours. He refused to turn around, to get fucked missionary. He begged all the men, one after another, to wrap their arms around his neck, to choke him, to spank him, to fuck him, as hard as they wanted, as fast and as deep as they wanted. Ryan thought he was going to black out. He’d cum three times already, in the same doggy position. He felt the tiny bathroom fill up with bodies, one after another, as he faced the wall and got fucked like a cheap cum dump. He wanted to black bursa escort bayan out, but the men kept stimulating him, his ass, his prostate, his nipples, edging his cock. Ryan’s voice was hoarse and dry. But he didn’t care. He wanted to keep cumming from getting fucked. He wasn’t done. … The first man who found him in the bathroom, the lucky bastard who undressed him and entered him first, was too eager, too excited. Jabbing in and out of Ryan’s perfect, voracious boy cunt like a jackrabbit with his tiny cock, the poor guy had no chance… he shot his load within seconds of getting inside Ryan’s smooth, sucking, hot hole. Ryan, for a brief second, thought about escaping the inevitable situation he’d created for himself. He’d heard voices, other men enter the bathroom as the first guy prematurely shot his load. He had a split moment to pull himself together, push the pathetic excuse of a top off of his own perfect body, get dressed and get the fuck out of there. With fresh cum dripping out of his nowhere-near satiated hole… Ryan struggled out from under the spent top, gulped deeply as he got on all fours again, spreading his beefy, athletic legs wider apart, exposing his cummy hole to the others in the bathroom. Ryan gathered all his courage and stymied his shame; he begged: “Fuck me!” … “FUCK! FUCK! I’M! I’M! I’M! GONNA! FUCK! FUCK!! CUM! CUM! SHIT! FUCK! HARDER! YES! YES!!!!!!” Four loads in, the 5th guy finally fucked Ryan the way he wanted. Long, deep, hard, rough, merciless. He was the first who didn’t put Ryan’s body on a pedestal, who just saw the boy as a hole (a hot hole, nonetheless), a boy begging to be used as such. Ryan’s hole was still tight-ish… definitely wet and overflowing, but this man sensed something more perverse in the boy, who’s hole immediately inhaled its fifth cock of the night with frenzied desperation and skill. “Bitch boy wants it rough, huh?” The man had seen the pathetic guys before him, with their small cocks and tentative and worshipping ways of fucking their prized golden jock. No. This boy needed more. “Bitch boy wants all of daddy’s cock, huh?” “Ughn… ughnn… please… yes… ughnn.. ughnn… UGHNN!!!!!” Ryan had goosebumps as this man bottomed out. He had a huge, fat cock. Even better, he felt the man wrap his arms around his neck as the massive cock probed deeper and deeper inside. Ryan’s eyes finally rolled to the back of his head for the first time that night. “OH GOD YES!” Other men watched, took mental notes, or maybe even filmed it on their phones, as this man brutally fucked Ryan in front of everyone, squeezing the jock’s hard pecs, sensitive tits, biting, spanking. He showed the men that the jock boy is not some fragile, perfection with an ass. The boy won’t break easily. “FUCK! FUCK! I’M! I’M! I’M! GONNA! FUCK! FUCK!! CUM! CUM! SHIT! FUCK! HARDER! YES! YES!!!!!!” Ryan was delirious. The man was pounding in and out so hard, so deep, so fast, so mercilessly. Pulling on his hair, spitting on him, spanking his plump ass, calling him names, faggot, bitch boy, cunt, pussy, whore… There was that instant when he felt the unrelenting man’s arms tighten around his neck, when he felt the large cock inside him stiffen and engorge even bigger, when he felt the animal of a man groan into his neck, feeling the stranger’s beard and hot breath grunt and groan – all Ryan could do was hold on for desperate life, white knuckling his grip on the towel bar, as he came for the first time that night, hands free. “UGHN! UGHNN OH GOD OH GOD! UGHNN! UGHNN!!!!!! UGHNNN!! FUCK! FUCK! UGHNNNNN!!!!” Ryan, on his knees with his neck choked and head pulled back into the bear of a man fucking him, sprayed streams of jock cum against the tiled wall. The room instantly filled with the smell of fresh, sweet boy cum. Almost instantaneously, after the first stream of cum splattered against the tiles, the man fucking the bottom jock boy felt Ryan’s insides tighten and quiver – that was too much. He was holding it in this entire time, wanting to fuck Ryan into oblivion and savor the once-in-a-lifetime ass this boy possessed. No. That moment when Ryan’s body trembled, buckled and orgasmed, was too much. He choked Ryan tighter, and with one last slam, deep, the escort bursa man fed Ryan’s his first satisfactory load of the night, eliciting elated whimpers and squeals from the jock bottom . Fifth load, counting the sad attempts before. … Ryan felt the man pull out… the sounds of a giant cock pulling out of his own hole still disgusted him. For a flash of a moment, he wanted to get out of there again, but the emptiness he felt as soon a the mushroom cock head popped out of his wet hole… Ryan couldn’t. There were some flashes of light around him. Voices. Ryan blocked it all out, whatever they were talking about, whatever photos they were taking, clips they were filming. No. Even the fifth fuck wasn’t enough. Ryan, still facing the wall, got back on all fours. He grunted; people took note of this perfect jock’s desperation: “Fuck me! FUCK! ME!” Others took the cue from the last guy. Rough. Merciless. Humiliating. Degrading. Use the boy. … Ryan finally woke up. It was 2PM. He’d lost count of how many men he’d begged to fuck him. He barely remembered the fifth time he shot his load… his crazed desperation to orgasm just one more time, how he shrieked at the man fucking him, pleaded for deeper and more, harder, to hurt him, bite him, strike him. Ryan barely remembered… but he’d manage to cum for a fifth time, all the while feeling the pain and pleasure inflicted on his sore and tender body. He was naked on the dirty bathroom floor. His socks were missing, his jock was missing, his tank was missing… … “Fucking pussy again, huh, Ford?” The assistant drill sergeant/coach snickered as Ryan rushed in, sweaty and panting. The military academy’s new recruit – a blond, 19-year-old star athlete from the South – had transferred in a few months ago. The rugby team was already on the field. “Sorry, sir,” Ryan muttered in his Southern accent and flashed the assistant coach an adorable, crime-absolving smile. In seconds, Ryan was out of his clothes, bending over ass-naked in his dirty little jockstrap, his hairless hole puckering in the smelly locker room air, looking for his socks and pants. … It had been 4 months since that night. THAT night. Ryan limped home the next day in nothing but his gym shorts – his sneakers, socks, everything was taken, kept as souvenirs by hungry predators. The sight of him, barefoot, covered in… god knows what, must have frightened his landlord, who let the sexy, ripe, half-naked jock back into his apartment. Ryan collapsed on his bed… just laid there for hours, feeling every ache and pain, feeling his loaded hole, his tortured nips, bites on his neck and shoulders, bruises on his knees, his thoroughly-fucked boy cunt. Ryan tried to recall how it all happened, but couldn’t really. He wanted it… all of it. He loved it. He came so hard, time after time, from all of it. The attention, the degradation, the submission, humiliation. The smells, the nasty things the men were saying to him, doing to him… using him. “Oh god…” Ryan was hard. His right hand had found its way down to his hole. So wet… so open, so… empty. His middle finger felt the swollen lips of his boy hole, throbbing hot, greasy wet. One finger. Two fingers. Three. The fourth slipped in. Ryan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. Just this once more. Just one more orgasm from anal stimulation. Just one more. Ryan’s other hand found his swollen and puffy nipples. “(Fuck me… fuck me… fuck me… fuck me…),” Ryan grunted, pleaded and begged out loud, raising his legs up as he pummeled his loose cunt with all four fingers. Squeezing his tits hard, flicking them, Ryan felt feverish as a new coat of sweat covered his perfect body. His long toes curled and flexed in the air as the hungry jock attempted to go deeper and deeper, feeling the wetness, the hotness and the silkiness of his hole engulf his own fingers. “OH GOD! UGHN!! UGHNNNNN!!!” Three minutes later, Ryan’s landlord heard an animalistic cry from the upstairs studio apartment. … “Don’t worry, Ford; Lt. Caslen wants to see you right away,” the assistant drill sergeant – though tough – had immediately taken a liking to Ryan, as did everyone else at the military academy. “The superintendent?” Ryan froze; a familiar feeling arose from the pit of his stomach. The blond cadet felt a heat boiling from inside him, a dark, insatiable urge he thought he’d left behind. His long toes dug into the locker room floor. “Yes, newbie. Right away. In his office.”

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