straight-jock-boy-chronicles-7

Subject: Straight Jock Boy Chronicles 7 Love to hear what you all have to think, as usual! Ideas, fantasies, criticisms… all welcome! xoxo – ess (previously) “God you are beautiful… such a dirty little pig… such a dirty boy…” The Cuban cop grunted as he leaned back in and kissed deeply the boy, slamming his still-clothed body into the naked, cum-covered jock one last time. Rod erupted — stream after stream of thick cum filled a shaking Ryan to the brim. Rod continued to fuck Ryan, squeezing and pumping as much cum as he could muster into the sobbing jock as he held the boy in his muscular arms, tightly, angrily, possessively. (now… Sunday morning…) Coifed and dressed up, Ryan was late. Even worse, he was late to church. As he rushed in, the boyishly handsome jock could feel all the eyes on him, burning holes through his starchy church clothes as he searched hastily — hopefully and discreetly — for a fucking empty seat. Pleasant faces from the congregation, everyone had missed the jock’s attractive presence for the entire summer, greeted him with affection and warmth, touching his arms and shoulders lovingly as Ryan made his way through the aisles. Hugs and kisses from grandmas and pats on the back from proud-looking grandpas who love college baseball made Ryan’s stomach turn. Flirting eyes from housewives and college girls — many of whom well-satiated by Ryan’s insatiable sex drive — batted futilely for Ryan’s attention once again. Unwittingly causing a slight commotion that briefly interrupted the pastor’s masculine, orating voice, Ryan grinned like a golden puppy to everyone and no one, desperate to just sit the fuck down, afraid to catch the glance of anyone knowing, someone who may recognize him too well… especially from the past week. Dear Lord — God forbid Rodrigo was there… Ryan could still feel the Cuban daddy’s burning body unexpectedly forced upon his teenage body, raging, dominating, raping him… Now, his tender jock hole pulsed and quivered… empty once again… Fuck. Ryan finally found the one open seat and reluctantly sat down in the front row, catching the steely stare of Pastor Rob coupled with a split second flash of a sadistic smile. Oh shit. He could barely breathe with his tie and buttoned-up collared shirt. His legs could not stop nervously bouncing with anticipation. His long toes, sock-less in his boat shoes, curled and uncurled, already sweaty and restless. Did he just…? Are they looking at me still? Do they know? How the fuck would they know anything? Did he just…? Ryan shuffled in his seat as Pastor Rob continued orating, feeling the coarse fabric from his khakis rubbing and teasing his bare ass crack. Ugh! Why only a jockstrap? Why?!! Pastor Rob’s eyes focused back on the squirming teenager every once in a while, sending shivers of memories up Ryan’s spine. Every time Ryan caught the pastor’s eyes, everything from earlier in the summer came flooding back: his own pleading screams and pathetic moans, the sounds of heavy balls slapping against his plump boy ass, the strong, powerful arms that wrapped around his torso and neck, rough fingertips on his swollen nipples, the indescribable sensation deep inside caused by every flex and merciless thrust that filled and stretched him to the limits, the tangy taste and pungent smell of feet in his mouth, the warm, hot feeling surging from his own balls, the wet, overflowing emptiness after… after… FUCK. Blushing beet red and covered in a light sheen of fresh sweat, Ryan looked down and evaded futilely the pastor’s gaze, shuffling again in his seat, feeling now the hard wooden bench under his juicy ass cheeks and feeling again the fabric rubbing harder against his pink, empty hole, pressing… grinding? FUCK. Jock boy’s eight-inch cock had already escaped his useless jock, snaking against his meaty left thigh inside his confining khakis. Ryan froze: a small wet patch was beginning to form on the fabric. Nearly trembling and panting through his nostrils, he was going to cum if he kept grinding his jock ass into the wooden bench. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK! Ryan mumbled some excuse to his elderly neighbors on the bench, grabbed a Bible to cover his obscene boner and rushed out the side door. … “Well, well… you actually showed up …” Pastor Rob intoned deeply as he shut the door behind him. Ryan gulped as he heard the locks turn. “And you, sweet thing, can certainly follow directions… Sam’s got a trained, obedient jock whore hasn’t he?” Before Pastor Rob was a near-naked jock boy, blond and smooth, hair neatly coifed, clad only in a tiny white jock strap, a long felt tie around his neck, and his leather boat shoes. Ryan was on all fours bursa escort facing away from the pastor, mounted on the pastor’s giant mahogany desk, trembling as he spread his beefy jock thighs wider for his one-man audience. Pastor Rob took in the sight greedily… a perfect, corn-fed blond jock arching his back and raising his muscular yet jiggly ass higher, framed by the thin bands of a jock strap, waiting for him on a pedestal. He could see Ryan’s swollen, red cock swinging between his bare legs. The jock boy hated himself for emitting involuntary whimpers as he felt the pastor’s calloused and warm hands roughly caressing his ass cheeks. Whimpers grew into stifled groans and repressed grunts as the invading hands violated his smooth, sculpted, submitting body. Pastor Rob wasted no time: burning heat radiated off the boy’s bare flesh as the pastor’s fingers explored every nook and cranny that his fingertips could probe and explore. Ryan was dripping precum just from the man’s devouring touch, panting for oxygen and hating himself for showing up, for doing exactly what Sam told him to do, for wanting it… His empty hole was quivering, begging, hungry… “Jesus Christ… God broke the mold after making you, boy… I’ve got 15 minutes…” Ryan jerked as he felt each of his shoes ripped off of his feet. The sweet, boyish odor of a teenage boy’s feet sweat immediately permeated and filled the small, stifling office. Ryan hadn’t showered, as instructed. The obedient jock boy yelped like a pup as the pastor’s fingers ran through his finely combed hair, tousling the sweaty blond mane playfully before grabbing a handful and suddenly and roughly pulling the boy back. “(ughnn… ughnn… ughnnnnnnnn…)” Assertive fingers and hands were soon joined by a hot, insatiable tongue; the groping became more aggressive, possessive and demeaning, the wet mouth sucked on Ryan’s bare skin as the jock boy held his pose on all fours. Everywhere. The back of his neck, down his muscular back, the back of his thighs, his thick calves, his sweaty feet and between every curling toe. Ryan tasted like a fucking man, Pastor Rob thought to himself. Musky, stinky, and sweet… ripe and sweaty. Ryan gasped as the tie around his neck tightened as the pastor pulled on it like a leash. The jock buckled as he felt a rough hand knead his ass cheeks and cried out louder as he suddenly felt the pastor’s mouth and tongue sucking and licking his pink hole, spitting on it, diving in deeper, licking down his smooth taint and heavy balls with a ferocious hunger. “(ughhnnn! ughhnnn! ughhnnnnnnnn! OH GOD! UGHNNN!!)” Ryan could hear the piggish sounds coming from his own throat, his knuckles nearly white from gripping the table top so hard, his toes curling and flexing with every assault. Pastor Rob snickered at the sweaty, moaning sight before him, a perfect pink hole — smooth and slathered in spit — blond legs kicking wildly, bare ankles and curled toes eventually clasping behind the pastor’s neck, pulling the man’s mouth deeper into his hungry hole instinctively, hungry and unwilling to let go. The boy’s nimble back arched as far back as he could, feeling the oxygen getting cut off gradually as the Pastor maintained his tight grip on his tie-leash. “Alright boy… 7 minutes… you want it?” “(Ughnnn! Gasp! Ughnnn!!)” “Boy! You want it?!” “(Yes… ughnnn… yes… sir…)” “Want what?!” “(Your… your… ughn… cock… sir… please…)” Ryan blushed at the dry, near hyperventilating words that came out of his stammering mouth. No prescribed lines here for the pastor’s little boy whore. The jock boy wanted it. Satisfied with the obedient slut jock’s pleading words, Pastor Rob flipped Ryan over roughly, spit twice on his cock, greased himself up, pushed Ryan’s knees back against his chest, mounted the shaking, sheet-white boy, staring into Ryan’s deep blue eyes, and entered the submissive jock in one aggressive push. Ryan cried out as he felt the unforgiving man enter him, full voiced and screaming. “UGHNN! OH FUCK! UGHNN!! SL… SLOW…!” Ryan screamed as he struggled to take the monster cock. Tears formed in his eyes as he felt the greasy, monster organ bottom out deep inside him. The blond jock gritted his teeth and tried to accept the intrusion, painfully and greedily, his bare feet planted against the pastor’s still-clothed chest. “UGHNNN! GAH!!! FUCK! SLOW! PLEASE! UGHNNNN!!!” Pastor Rob reached down and covered the screaming boy’s mouth with his hand, and in seconds began fucking him, hard, rough, and mercilessly. Tears overflowed from Ryan’s pleading eyes as he held onto the pastor’s waist as the older man ravaged his tender jock hole, his long toes dug and bursa escort bayan curled into the pastor’s pecs. Ryan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, feeling the intense pain of rape suddenly replaced by the euphoric sensation of a bare cock in his ass, pressing against that one sensitive spot… “UGHNN! UGHNNN! FUCK ME! FUCK! JESUS1 FUCK ME!!! UGHNN! OH!! GAH! OW! UGHNN! UGHNN!! UGHNNN!!!!!!! HARDER! HARDER!” Ryan couldn’t help himself as he heard a high-pitched, screaming voice beg to get fucked harder and deeper. “FUCK ME! YES! FUCK ME! HARDER! DEEPER! OH MY FUCKING GOD! JESUS! FUCK!!! UGHNNNNN!!!!!!!” Ryan was leaking endless stream of prcum in that position, getting pounded like a cheap, bought whore, hearing the wet, slapping sounds of Pastor Rob’s heavy balls against his ass. A few minutes of unsympathetic, rough, animalistic and full-throttled fucking, Ryan’s body convulsed, his fingers dug into the pastor’s clothed back, his legs now wrapped around the pastor’s torso, ankles locked, and the teenage jock shot streams of clear cum onto his own smooth, tight belly – Pastor Rob never once kissed Ryan or looked away from the jock boy’s crazed, lustful eyes, observing quietly as he molested the wholesome, corn-fed jock boy, fucking him hard, causing him pain, pleasure, piggish shame and every degree in between. Every inch of Ryan’s extremities – legs and toes and fingers — were numb from the pastor’s assault as he finally felt his insides swell up with heat and cum… wetness… sloppy, wet sounds of skin on skin… bred once again… … “You didn’t have to show up, you know…” The pastor eyed the beefy, wet jock awkwardly limping off the desk, searching for his clothes. “(I… I…)” Ryan muttered, still woozy and trembling, as he stepped back into his khakis — his body still covered in a coat of fresh sweat and belly wet with his own cum. His blond hair a mess and cherubic cheeks flushed. His throat hoarse and dry from all the screaming, moaning and begging. “Didn’t Sam actually gave you a choice this time,” Pastor Rob ate up the sight in front of him, a bent over jock searching for his shirt, ass filled to the brim with his cum, a trickle of which fighting to leak out. Ryan was lost for words. “Are you that desperate to please him? To have him fuck you?” Ryan burned crimson, his stomach in knots as he continued buttoning his shirt and adjusted his tie, burning hot in the face, desperate to keep the large, hot load from squirting out from his hole. “Oh, I know all about you two.” The pastor was on a mission, turning on the giant monitor on his desk, flipping it around towards Ryan. A video clip showed Ryan, looking younger and in the prime of his blond twinkness, on all fours. His face was covered in tears and sweat, grimacing in pain. But his raspy, screaming moans were begging for more, more and more. Harder. harder and harder. His red hard cock was swinging between his legs. A beefy muscled stud, whose face was outside the shot, had both hands on Ryan’s slim waist, just pounding the shit out of the screaming boy. Pastor Rob cranked up the volume; Ryan was stunned, frozen in place — barefoot with his khakis and shirt just buttoned up. “You didn’t know Sam had taped you? Keep watching.” Ryan turned from beet red to ghost white in seconds, recognizing the boy in that video to be himself. The video continues — Sam fucked Ryan doggy style, hard, deep, unapologetic, rough until Ryan’s adorable face suddenly twitched with pleasure as he bit his lower lips. Sam wrapped his arm around Ryan’s neck, choking and pulling the boy up to his knees in time for the camera to capture Ryan’s cock spraying stream after stream of cum, hands free. “(STOP IT!)” Ryan’s voice, hoarse from screaming earlier (and the day before with Rodrigo), croaked. “Keep watching,” Pastor Rob grabbed the jock’s down-turned face and forced the teary jock to look into the screen. In the video, Ryan did what he was told: he leaned down and licked up every drop of his own cum from the floor. Ryan stood there, watching himself, years ago, lap up thick loads of cum from the dirty gym floor, his heart racing, his body shaking with rage and humiliation, his cock hard… his hole, sopping wet with cum. Ryan remembered what Sam did to him next. “Oh yes, Sam told me everything to do to you…. Like this…” Reaching into Ryan’s khakis, feeling once again the heat and smoothness of the boy’s body, finding that gaping, used hole, wet and overflowing with fresh cum, Pastor Rob forced his fingers back inside Ryan. “UGHN! STOP! UGHN! I… UGHN! OH GOD! PLEASE DON’T!!!!!” UGHNNNNNN!” Ryan buckled instantly. His eyes rolled back into his skull as he fought escort bursa instinctively to keep all the pastor’s cum inside himself. “PLEASE DON’T!!… please…!” “Good boy. Sam said you’re a pro. No fucking joke.” In the video, as Ryan ate his own cum off the floor, on his elbows and his fat boy ass spread in the air; far in the background Sam could be seen in the back, lubing up a baseball bat. “UGHHNNN! STOP!!! Please don’t make me watch it… please… PLEASE!!!” Three finger found instantly Ryan’s still swollen prostate. The greedy pastor pressed on it, teased it, scraped against it. Ryan cried… whimpered, sobbed as he lost control of his anus and rectum… all that cum… the fingers… The jock boy trembled on his toes, grasping on to the sadistic pastor, legs spread wide as the pastor finger fucked his tender, raw, worn hole; cum gushed out of his boy cunt, trickling down Ryan’s thighs. On screen, Sam lined the tip of the baseball bat against Ryan’s boy hole. “I… UGHNN!! UGHNN! OH GOD! PLEASE FUCK! UGHNN! OH FUCK!! JESUS!!!! I… I… have to go…! UGHN!” With the Pastor’s fingers in his boy cunt, Ryan struggled and stumbled to get to the door, still barefoot and barely buttoned up, his hair a mess and reeking of cum and ass. The door was locked. Ryan felt the pastor’s body pinning him against the door, the pastor’s fingers probing deeper and deeper into him… fingers covered in spit and lube and god knows what. The jock whore sobbed openly, overwhelmed with the raging, burning desire to be filled, with his sweaty forehead pressed against the door, his fingers digging into the frame, his back involuntarily arched, his ass grinding back against the pastor’s fingers. Out of the corner of his wet eyes, Ryan watched Sam work a baseball bat into his boy cunt; Ryan watched himself scream on screen, cry, struggle, as Sam slowly stuffed his jock hole with his own bat. “OH FUCK! FUCK! GOD! OH GOD! STOP! OH! PLEASE! UGHNN! UGHNN! UGHNN!!!! OH SHIT! UGHNNNNNN!” Suddenly, Ryan felt unbelievable fullness in his ass, the pain, the pleasure… Ryan freaked out, cried out and pounded desperately on the door, practically drooling, as he stood there, legs apart, khakis now pooled around his bare ankles, shaking, trembling, with a man’s fist shoved up in his cummy hole. Deeper, deeper, and deeper. “Sorry kid… I didn’t have a bat here…” Pastor Rob whispered into Ryan’s ear as he felt the incredible hotness, smoothness, and wetness of Ryan’s boy cunt open up, inhale, and wrap around his large fist. Ryan bellowed, pounded, cried, barked, screamed, whimpered… feeling the pastor’s fist invade his now loose and raw hole, feeling the edges of the pastor’s knuckles and fingers pry his insides wider, and wider, and wider… the teenage jock writhed on his toes, body not of his own anymore, lips bright red and panting… accepting more and more of the pastor’s fist and wrist as he helplessly clawed at the heavy wooden door with both hands. Ryan’s cock was rock hard. “That’s it, baby boy… that’s it… take daddy’s fist… Come on boy!” Pastor worked his fist deeper, relishing in the moans and cries of a jock boy giving up, giving into the inexplicable desire and hunger to have his hole abused, filled. Ryan’s high-pitched screams that the Pastor enjoyed so much while fucking the jock boy, dropped to deep, guttural grunts. “(OH YES! YES! DADDY! DEEPER! DEEPER! FUCK ME! DEEPER! FUCK! FUCK!!!!)” On screen, Sam was pegging Ryan mercilessly with the bat, but neither Ryan nor the Pastor was paying attention to the screams and grunts from the video. Ryan’s body was burning, pouring sweat, overheated; he desperately wanted to rip his tie and shirt off but couldn’t find the strength as he got fisted. All his body could do was to back his ass up, opening up more for the pastor’s assault. “OH FUCK! UGHNNN!!! UGHNNN!!!! SHIT FUCK! DADDY! FUCK! ME! LIKE…! UGHNNNN!!! DEEPER! DEEPER!!!!!!!!!!!” Ryan lost his mind, feeling the pastor’s fist punching in deep, withdrawing completely, and punching back in again. Deep. And deeper. The grunting jock boy – his dress shirt soaked through and through with sweat, clinging to his beefy, muscled body and revealing every nuanced curvature, braced himself feverishly on the door frame as he got fisted mercilessly, all the while begging for more, spreading his legs wider, rising higher on his toes. Within seconds, a fist and a wrist deep inside him, Ryan’s cock erupted, blasting fresh jock cum all over the door before collapsing on his knees. “Oh GOD oh god oh godh oh god…” Feeling the pastor’s fist reluctantly withdrawing from his broken jock hole, Ryan felt against his cheek the thick, creamy load he had just blown onto the door as his knees gave out. “That’s it, boy… lick up your load… that’s it… lick the door clean… every drop, boy… that’s it… taste your own cum, taste yourself you filthy little pig… that’s it… every drop…”