The locker room still stank of sweat and grass when they dragged me inside. Practice was over, the stadium lights were off, and the straight football team had me cornered against the benches. Ten of them, all muscle and attitude, still in their pads and jocks. The quarterback, a thick-necked brute named Derek, shoved me to my knees first.
“Open up, faggot,” he growled, yanking his jockstrap down. His cock flopped out heavy and half-hard, already leaking. I didn’t hesitate. I wrapped my lips around the head and sucked hard. The taste of salt and musk hit me instantly. Derek grabbed my hair and fucked my throat in short, brutal thrusts while the others watched and laughed.
“Fuck, look at him take it,” one of the linemen said. Hands started pulling at my clothes. My shirt was ripped off, my jeans shoved down to my ankles. Someone spat on my hole and shoved two fingers in without warning. I moaned around Derek’s cock, the sound wet and sloppy.
They took turns on my mouth first. One after another, thick straight cocks pushed past my lips. The running back’s dick was long and curved, the tight end’s was fat and veiny. They held my head and used my throat like a hole, gagging me until spit ran down my chin and onto my chest. Every time I tried to catch my breath they just pushed deeper.
Derek got impatient. He hauled me up, bent me over the bench, and kicked my legs apart. “This ass is mine first.” He spat on his cock and slammed in. No slow start, just a hard, deep thrust that made me cry out. His hips slapped against my ass as he pounded me, one hand gripping my shoulder, the other slapping my cheek.
“Take that dick, you fucking cumdump,” he snarled. The others circled, stroking themselves, calling me every name while they waited their turn. “Look at that gay hole swallow him,” someone said. Another guy shoved his cock back in my mouth so I was getting fucked from both ends at once.
They rotated fast. As soon as Derek pulled out, the linebacker replaced him, his cock even thicker, stretching me wider. He fucked like he was trying to break me open, short angry strokes that made my whole body jerk. Cum from the first load was already leaking out around his shaft, making everything slick and filthy.
I lost count after the third guy. They kept me bent over or on my back on the floor, legs spread wide. One after another they used my ass, grunting and swearing while they pumped loads into me. Some came on my face, thick ropes across my lips and tongue. Others pulled out and painted my hole, watching their cum drip out before the next cock pushed it back in.
The tight end made me ride him while two others held my arms. He was huge, and every time I sank down he slapped my ass hard enough to leave handprints. “Bounce on that straight dick, bitch,” he ordered. I did, thighs burning, hole raw and used, until he flooded me again.
By the end I was a mess—covered in sweat, spit, and cum, ass gaping and leaking. They didn’t stop until every single one of them had dumped at least one load in or on me. Derek came back for seconds, fucking me face-down on the cold tile while the others watched and jerked off onto my back.
When they finally finished, the room was quiet except for heavy breathing. Derek wiped his cock on my ass cheek and smirked. “Same time next week, faggot. Don’t be late.”
They left me there, used and dripping, already knowing I’d be back for more.
