Date: Tue, 18 Jun 2019 21:41:03 -0500
From: Scott Coffin <scoffin.2814@gmail.com>
Subject: Boys of Summer Chapter 4

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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21 in most cases), please do not read or disseminate this story in anyway.

This story is copyrighted by the author as of 06-18-2019

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Boys of Summer 4: Philadelphia Freedom

Prologue

Bryce Harper was frustrated.  Having been enthusiastically welcomed to the
Phillies on a massive contract, he had been marketed as the ticket to the
next level, and while the season was mostly going well for the team so far,
his was nearly floundering.  While it is true that his defense was as
strong as ever, having robbed several men of home runs, not to mention
recording a lot of final outs on diving or leaping catches, his hitting had
been spotty at best, and generally slumping compared to the rest of his
career.  All in all, he felt he was barely holding onto the goodwill of the
fans, not too mention his team.

Hence staying to hit in the cages following an afternoon game at home.
That it was also the hottest day of the summer so far was, to Bryce, an
additional penance to be faced willingly in the name of bettering his game.
The weirdly chilling trickle of his sweat running along his chest over the
curves of his muscular pecs, or along the ridges and valleys of his spinal
column beneath his under armour caused sudden involuntary shudders to
ripple across his frame.  His exertions causing his balls to ache
pleasurably, and his cock to puff up in his damp, well worn jock.

Of course, at least some of that ache was caused by the man only barely
caught in the edge of his vision.  Notably muscular, even under his
uniform, almost as tall, but sleeker than the 26 year old right fielder and
nearly 18 years his senior at 43, almost 44.  The man who was leaning
casually against the entrance to the cage.  The man who looked, for all the
world, to be casually cupping his very noticeable package.

Part 1

Phillies manager Gabe Kapler watched his stud right fielder take batting
practice for nearly 20 minutes before he was sure the 26 year old was aware
of his presence.  It was another 5 or 6 before he was sure that Bryce had
noted his not terribly subtle self-groping.  In that time, the 6'3" jock
had connected far more often than not, easily making contact for what would
have been several stand up doubles and maybe a few home runs in an actual
game.

He also knew that hitting in the cages was nothing like being at the plate,
and that that, as much as anything, was what was holding Harper back,
keeping him frustrated at his under-performance so far this season.  Kapler
flipped the pitching machines switch as Harper connected on what probably
would have counted as a sliding triple and walked over to his player.

"Always hated when I could hit nearly .750 in here when I couldn't connect
to save my life at the plate."  he said as he hooked his arm around
Harper's broad shouldered frame.

"Feels like I lost it an I'm never gonna get it back, lately."

"I know what you mean, Bryce.  We all do.  Anyone that's played this game
for more than a year has felt that way, and usually several times over."
Kap continued as he guided Harper toward the locker room, arm still surely,
solidly over his shoulder.

For his part, the right fielder let his body lean slightly against his
manager's as they walked and talked, commiserating over slumps, both at bat
and on defense.  Bryce felt a slightly bittersweet pride as Gabe reminded
him of several of his heroic catches to end rallies or even games, not too
mention a rocket of a throw that stopped a game tying runner cold at home
and made futile the mad sprint of the runner behind him crossing 3rd to end
a game just a few days earlier.

In spite of, or maybe because of, this easy, honest camaraderie, Harper
found himself boning up at the strong physical contact between them, as
well as at the intoxicating masculine musk of Kapler.  Just as the right
fielder realized he should pull away from his manager before he did
something stupid, he felt the older man pull him in tighter, more firmly
against his studly dad body, and realized that his boss had led him into
the small office attached to the locker room and that the door had been
closed behind them.

Kapler had maneuvered Harper up against the desk and shifted to stand in
front of the younger man, one hand resting on his player's shoulder, the
other just barely against his hip, so light and casual that it could have
been an innocent mistake. Harper looked down between where their bodies
almost touched, at where mere millimeters separated their well packed
crotches, before raising his gaze to meet Gabe's.

There was nothing even remotely innocent about the look in his manager's
eyes.

The almost tentative contact of the older man's hands on his body became
firmer, needier, as they trailed along his waist from the hip on one side,
and down over the bulging pec and abdominals of the other before gripping
the hem of his compression top to pull it upwards.  Through it all, the
men's eyes remained locked on each other.  The jolting coldness of the air
conditioning on Bryce's overheated, sweaty chest jolted him nearly back to
reality.

"I'm probably pretty rank, Kap.  I should shower first."

He caught the fleeting start of a smirk as Kapler moved toward his neck.

"I don't mind a bit, Harper."  the manager moaned into his flesh in the
second before tongue met a line of sweat dripping down from the strong,
scruffy jaw.  "In fact, I fucking love it."

The 26 year superstar moaned in greed as his nearly 44 year old manager
began lapping at his exposed flesh, kissing and licking his way toward the
dank, musky pit of the right fielder.  Kapler's hands, now finished with
the removal of the shirt, grasped wildly at the belt of his uniform pants,
one hand slipping deeply inside, cupping his jock encased cock, the minute
it was undone and the snaps and fly opened completely.  Harper shivered and
let slip a wheezing groan as Kapler's teeth nipped at his rock hard nipple,
eliciting a lusty chuckle from the older man before he moved to offer the
same treatment to the other side.

Gabe Kapler's tongue was digging into his navel before Bryce Harper had
even registered that his stud manager was moving his way down his body.
The cold air of the room came as a shock to his over heated nut sack,
telling the stud right fielder that his uniform pants had been pulled down.
The strong grip squeezing at his jock encased cock made him dizzy with
lust, but the rasping scratch of Kapler's rough thumb, the sharpness of the
edge of his nail, sliding along as much of his shaft as it could reach from
under the edge of his jock, sent him into overdrive.  Harper finally
released the grip of one hand from the edge of the desk as he felt Kapler's
chin bump against the straining pouch of his jock, while the tongue ran
along the top of the waistband.  The right fielder dug his hand into the
shaved scalp of his manager, urging him on, begging silently.  The heat of
the mouth as it closed over the straining bulge in the sweat soaked strap
threatened to drag Harper too quickly over the edge, the momentary reprieve
of Kapler pulling away from him to finally remove the jock strap was all
that stood between him and the abyss of ending the fun without ever seeing
where it would ultimately lead.

That his manager took an extra few moments to admire the proud stalk of
jock meat as it was revealed allowed the slumping slugger further time to
slip back away from the edge.  Harper felt a swell of pride as he noted his
stud manager gaze lustily at his rock hard cock.  Eight long, throbbing
inches with a more than respectable girth of jock meat exposed to Kapler's
hungry gaze.  The right fielder felt an involuntary shudder as he caught
his manager's heavy lidded upward gaze before the kneeling stud rumbled out
a throaty whisper.

"This is gonna be so fucking good!"

For the longest single minute of his life, Bryce Harper was teased nearly
to the point of cruelty as Gabe Kapler knelt before him, lightly licking
and barely stroking his cock while huffing deeply at the clean masculine
scent wafting off his body. The right fielder held his breath, gazing down
at his manager in queasy anticipation as the older stud shifted slowly
closer to his crotch, finally making firmer contact against the hot, moist
flesh with his tongue before parting his lips slightly, just enough to slip
the angry purple crown into his mouth while tracing over the entire surface
of it with his talented tongue. Kapler held his gaze upward, still locked
with Harper's for another painfully long moment before slipping his rough
hands around to cup the muscular ass of his player, calloused fingertips
raising goose bumps over the powerful glutes before digging hard into the
firm flesh.

Harper let out a choking gasp as Kapler pulled him roughly forward,
inhaling the full length of his cock, clamping his lips tight around the
base of the right fielder's shaft with a vacuum-like seal, firm, searching
tongue dancing along every bit of flesh, every pronounced vein he was able
to reach, his palms clamped firmly into the powerful, clutching ass of the
26 year old.  His rough tipped fingers teasing along the smoothly shaved
crack of the studs ass and occasionally fluttering over the wrinkled,
winking ring of muscle .

The right fielder was immediately and immensely grateful for those few
minutes of reprieve, knowing that without them he would already be drowning
his manager in his cum, and he knew that both of them definitely did not
want this jock rutting encounter to end anything like this soon.  Bryce let
his head fall back on his shoulders, his eyes flutter closed, his mouth
hang open, gasping in pure bliss, as Gabe sucked him hard and deep and
brilliantly.  The pressure of the dancing tongue, the suctioning grip of
the throat muscles, the over heated wetness of the drooling mouth combining
to drive Harper higher and higher along the rise of his lust.  The
vibrating moans ricocheting along his shaft, the desperate sucking of air
by his manager telling him that Kapler had been as eager, as greedy, for
this moment as he, himself had been.

Had been since even before the Phillies had emerged as front runners in the
Bryce Harper Free Agency Sweepstakes.

Harper had been almost terrified at the thought of playing for Kapler.
Nervous that he would say or do something to fuck things up, that he would
show too much of himself to his manager, make himself too available, only
to find out that his manager wanted nothing to do with it.  Finding now,
finally, that Kapler did want this, and was definitely interested in what
Harper had to offer brought the 26 year old jock's lusts to fever pitch.
The right fielder was almost desperate in his eagerness to give Gabe
whatever he wanted and however he wanted it.  Even more than that, he was
determined that he would do whatever it took to make sure that the 43 year
old stud would be unable to forget it when they were both finally sated.

For his part, Kapler was impressed with his player's willingness to let him
take whatever liberties he wanted from him.  The manager was determined to
savor this even as he devoured the big jock cock so freely being offered to
him.  Reveling in the feel and taste of it as it slid into his clutching,
swallowing throat.  Loving the full weight of the heavy nut sack slapping
against his chin each time he deep throated the stud right fielder.
Huffing himself dizzy on the studly scent of Harper's sweat soaked crotch.
Thrilling at the flexing clench and languid release of the muscles of the
man's glorious ass as the 26 year old ground and thrust into him.  Grinning
stupidly, lust drunk, at the almost childish whimpers the kid let loose
each time his rough fingers traced over the twitching entrance to the
jock's hole.

He had thought fleetingly, that when (if) he was ready to move on from
sucking Harper off, that he would probably pull rank and fuck the kid hard,
breeding the younger man's hole after a long, powerful shafting.  And if it
hadn't been for Harper's cock, that would probably still be his intention,
but since the second he freed the rock hard beast from Bryce's jock strap,
he had been feeling the twitching need deep inside him ramping steadily up.
As he moaned once again at the taste of the stud's drooling pre cum, he
half tried to remember when the last time was that he had been shafted,
abandoning the task as the right fielder's pubic bone slammed into his nose
once again.  His hands gripped tighter, bruisingly, into Harper's powerful
glutes, digging deep to hold the jock fully inside him, clamping his lips
tight around the very base of the pulsing shaft even as the younger stud
struggled to pull back, to carry on with his throat fucking rhythm.  Kapler
inhaled deeply, and then again, holding the powerful jock shaft deep in his
throat for several long minutes as he felt his face fucker beginning to
quiver and tremble under his dancing, fleeting fingertips.  The manager
pulled back along the pulsing shaft of cock in his mouth, taking care to
keep his lips tightly clamped along it's entire length and making sure to
dance his tongue thrillingly along the vein etched thickness of it,
stopping only when his lips met the ridge of the flaring crown, running his
teeth and tongue lightly across the pebbled flesh of Bryce's head and
thrilling again at the tremors he had caused to rock the right fielder's
powerful body, drawing out a long, low, guttural moan from his player.

And then he reversed and repeated the motion, holding the full volume of
Harper's cock deep in his throat for long, dizzying minutes before sliding
back off once again.  Three such journey's along the thick, eight inch cock
nearly had Kapler deciding to draw the kid's load out and into his mouth
and belly right then, nearly incoherent with his desire to feel the jock
sperm flooding into his mouth, to be able to taste the sharp saltiness of
his player's load and savor it as it slid down his throat.

He only just managed to override that desire with the more profound need
pulsing inside him, pulling off Harper's cock with a loud pop, that
achingly hard shaft slapping wetly against it's owner's hard gut as the
manager slowly rose before him, taking care to make sure his feet were firm
under him.  The right fielder was still gasping, mouth agape as Kapler
clamped his lips over Harper's, slipping his tongue in to wrestle against
his player's.

Bryce Harper nearly shouted his next groan at the shock of feeling
enveloping him.  The taste of his own pre cum and sweat, thick and heavy on
the tongue invading his mouth.  The feel of strong rough hands trailing up
along his sweaty back to tangle in his hair holding their lips together
with bruising force.  The scratch of fabric along his own bare, sweat
slicked flesh.  All of it conspiring to remind him that he was completely
naked while his manager was still fully in uniform.  The powerful grind of
Kapler's covered but obviously rock hard cock against his own spit wet and
pulsing shaft was fleeting and sorely missed as his manager pulled back a
half step, breaking all contact with the lust addled right fielder in order
to begin stripping himself.

Kapler's hands were trembling in need, making impossible work of buttons
and surprisingly difficult work of snaps and fly. He was twice sure that he
was going to fall over as he desperately kicked off his shoes and managed
to free one thickly muscled leg from his pants before he once again crashed
against his player's powerful frame and reclaimed the 26 year old's lips
and tongue with his own, grinding his jock covered and achingly hard shaft
against the hard wetness of Harper's for a few brief seconds before once
again pulling away even as he yanked Bryce off the edge of the desk,
spinning the stud halfway as he did.

Part 2

Bryce Harper watched in dazed awe as Gabe Kapler raised one powerful leg up
to rest his knee on the desk top, keeping the other planted on the floor
with knee slightly bent, the position spreading wide the rock hard glutes
of the 43 year old stud. The manager leaned forward, resting one elbow and
forearm on the desk, stretching his other arm to loosely grip the side
before he turned his head to once again lock his gaze onto that of the 26
year old jock, powerfully, thrillingly, throbbingly naked and hard behind
him.

"I better not be disappointed, son."

The last word echoing with myriad implications in the lust addled brains of
both men as Harper nodded slightly, moved closer and knelt behind his
powerfully built, sluttishly displayed manager, bringing his sweaty palms
to cup at and further spread the rock hard ass being freely offered to him.
Bryce Harper sucked in deep breaths, almost gasping for Gabe Kapler's scent
as he shifted his face, mouth drooling open, tongue already out and
searching, toward his manager's winking hole.  The 43 year old stud felt,
as much as heard, the desperate groan of the 26 year old as it seemed to
vibrate through his sphincter all the way up into his gut, letting loose
with his own shouted 'fuuuuuuuck' as Bryce's scruffy jaw wedged his glutes
wider still in the split second before the kid's tongue dug hard up into
his ass, spearing through any instinctual resistance with a single
thrillingly powerful stab.

Bryce Harper gloried in the tremors that rocked his manager's stacked body
as he let one hand dig deeper into the rock hard muscle under it, shifting
his other between the stud bent over and sprawled out in front of him to
clamp dangerously hard around the rock hard, and apparently huge, jock
encased cock to use as leverage to pull the stud tighter and harder back
against his face.  His teeth ran lightly over and nipped teasingly at the
wrinkled ring of muscle futilely protecting the wide spread ass before him,
his tongue jabbing hard and sure past the still balking sphincter to dig at
the deepest essence of the man moaning and begging incoherently as he was
slayed across the desktop.

The stud right fielder loved to eat what he was about to fuck, pussy or ass
made no difference, it was as much about getting his partner to relax and
open themselves to him as it was to bring them pleasure for pleasures sake,
but with his face buried to nearly suffocating levels in the powerful jock
butt of Gabe Kapler, his tongue piercing the willing slut hole, his taste
buds reacting to the tang on the his manager's sweat and musk, Bryce Harper
was in a jock hole rimming frenzy like he had never known before.  Had
probably not thought really possible.

Without thinking he tightened his grip further and dug his tongue harder up
and into his manager's jock snatch even as he realized that he could, if he
wanted, slack off a little bit, given the grinding pressure of Gabe Kapler
pushing back against his tongue and lips and teeth.  The 43 year old's
moans were coming out as nearly a single, impossibly long clarion call,
only punctuated briefly by the whimpering stud's need for oxygen.

The right fielder registered the subtle shifts in the wanton jock slut he
was eagerly eating out even as they happened.  The winking, clamping
pressure of the man's sphincter became less urgent, less of a balking
motion, and gave itself over to pure need, a need that seemed to be trying
to suck Harper's tongue deeper inside, even if that meant pulling the
stabbing, powerful muscle out by the root.  The greedily devouring 26 year
old felt his hair become damper and damper, knowing that his own sweat was
mingling with that of the 43 year old pressing his ass hard against the
scruffily bearded face fused against his ass crack.

As the grinding back against his face by Kapler increased in intensity,
Harper did pull back a bit, strengthening his crouched stance and
tightening his already bruising grip so he wouldn't be knocked backwards
onto his ass, he reveled in the strong staccato pressure of his manager
driving himself hard onto the right fielder's digging tongue.  Bryce
savored the taste and heat of the man whorishly riding his face for several
long, blissful minutes, his own lust rising each time the older man
whimpered and moaned out his pleas for more and deeper and harder.  The 26
year old soon realized that his own aching cock was still rock hard and
throbbing, almost in perfect sync with the one being choked off by his
tightly gripping hand. He realized the the heavy, full ache of his load,
increasing to massive levels weighed his big nuts down with their protein
cargo.  His cock head was greasily slick with his freely flowing pre cum as
he forced a massive wad of sweat tinged saliva into the gaping ass he was
eating and rose.

The anguished, sobbing groan of his manager brought another pulse of cock
snot flowing over his angrily purple cock head, and another slick wad of
spit to flooding his mouth.  He let the spit drool down onto his shaft,
carefully slicking up his iron hard cock with one hand even as he used the
other to push Kapler's jersey up along his back.  Harper trailed his tongue
along the sweaty spine, nipping at the shoulder blades and the nape of the
neck below him as he continued his upward movement, sweaty smooth chest
sliding hotly against muscular, clenching and equally sweaty back before
biting down on the debased stud's earlobe, cock tight and hard, firmly
locked against it's target, and growled in his manager's ear.

"I am going to fuck you so deep and hard your wife will get knocked up."

The laughter forming in Kapler's throat at the cheesiness of the statement
was choked off as Harper twisted one powerful arm under his shoulder,
wrapping the other around his throat from behind and yanked the 43 year
daddy stud up and back, sharp teeth sinking into the overheated flesh of
his throat at the same time the eight, fiery hot, thick inches of Jock
shaft tore through his wantonly pulsing ass, burying itself deep, deep
inside him, flattening his throbbing prostate as it went.

Gabe Kapler's groaning shouts echoed off the walls of the office as he was
finally, fully, violently impaled on the full, thrilling length of Bryce
Harper's cock.  Gathering strength he didn't know he had left he shifted
his hands flat onto the desktop and arched powerfully up and back against
the rutting animal repeatedly claiming his jock snatch, working overtime to
drive back against the right fielder's beefy, sweating body.  Two
powerfully built muscle studs fighting for dominance in the fuck as their
bodies crashed together in a bone shaking rhythm.

Sometimes Kapler held a slight advantage over his player, coming
dangerously close to unseating his top on a couple of occasions.  Sometimes
it was Harper who was completely in control, sweeping the older man's arms
out to flatten his chest against the desk once again, only to tear
viciously through his manager's gaping jock cunt again and again.  As the
two men's lust rose higher and higher, as the rut grew more and more
charged, they settled, seemingly as one, into a dizzying, dazzling union.

Kapler thrusting his rock hard ass back against Harper's sweat slicked
flesh, while Harper's grip tightened by ridiculous degrees on Kapler's iron
hard, jock trapped cock, using it as leverage to shift the older man's
body, often taking him unaware as to how his cock would make entry into the
moaning, mewling man desperately fucking himself on eight fat inches of
major league stud meat.  Pulling Kapler's cock this way allowed Harper to
attack from a lower angle, giving a thrilling new sensation to the bottom
bitch.  That way allowed him to pound in from just slightly of center,
stretching the gaping hole wider as he did so.  A sharp downward pull
allowed him to come in high, driving his diamond hard crown directly
against the whimpering studs prostate.

Harper knew that his lust was rising to the point that he would not be able
to hold back any longer within the next few strokes, and so he redoubled
his squeezing and choking of the jock encased cock of his manager, pulling
the stud's powerful body tighter against his chest to nip and lick at his
ear, growling out thrilling insults to Kapler's fevered psyche, reminding
the man of what he had willingly let himself become.

What he had demanded the Bryce Harper turn him into.

"You're whore ass is milking my fucking cock, skip.  You're so far gone
your gonna let me fuck a load right outta you!"

Kapler mewled out a wheezing response.

"Please, Bryce...need to cum so fuckin bad...fuck it out of me son...fuck
my sorry cunt and get us both off!"

"Yeah, bitch, let it go for me...let me feel your jock load soakin this
fuckin jock while I pound your fuckin daddy cunt!"

Bryce sank his teeth hard into the side of Gabe's neck as grunted through
the last few thrusts of his rut, feeling the tight choking clamp of the
jock hole strangling his cock in the split second before he felt the
wetness of his managers cum soaking through the fabric of the jock and onto
his hand.  Both men howled as Harper sank one last time deep into Kapler's
ruined hole and let loose with his own massive load deep inside the 43 year
old stud's bowels.

"OH FUCK, HARPER!  Feel you loadin me up...breed my cunt, man...flood me
with that cum!"

"Fuck, Gabe...milk it man...suck that cum up into your stud cunt!"

Two powerful, sweat-soaked, fucked out men quivered and trembled against
each other for sever long minutes as they came down from the power of their
fuck.  Gabe Kapler slumping forward over the desk, panting for oxygen as
Harper tried to will his heart rate back to normal.

As the stud right fielder finally pulled his still mostly hard cock from
the fucked out husk of his manager's body, he was surprised at how quickly
the man moved.  Before he had even take a full step backward, Gabe Kapler
was up and turned and back on his knees in front of Bryce Harper, sucking
the dregs of their mating off the 26 year old's painfully sensitive, still
oozing cock.  Harper let the older man play for as long as he could stand
before forcibly pulling away from the talented mouth.  Kapler grinned and
smacked the younger man's ass.

"Go shower and get out of here before I change my mind."  As he leaned back
against the desk.

The stud player leaned down and planted one last, lingering kiss on his
manager's still smiling lips before he walked away, muscular ass holding
Kapler's gaze as he made his way toward the showers.

Epilogue

When Harper finished his long, and very much needed, shower; while he was
making his way back to his locker even as he was continuing to dry off, he
spied a pile of something on the seat in front of his cubby hole.  Drawing
nearer, realizing what it was, he smirked at the thought of Kapler cleaning
up after him, carrying his player's sweaty uniform and damp socks and jock
to dump it at his locker.

When he opened his locker to grab his street clothes, he found a pleasantly
alluring surprise hanging from the hook on the inside of his door.

A moist, musky cum soaked jock, with a note clipped to it in his manager's
unmistakable handwriting.

"Remember this.  Once you start hitting like we both know you can again,
you will get more."

Harper smiled, his cock beginning against all odds to swell once again as
he brought the aromatic fabric to his mouth, chewing and sucking on it as
he squeezed his slowly swelling cock, holding the moist pouch in his mouth
as he typed out a text on his phone.

"If more means you fucking me next time, then I will keep hitting the
cages, boss!"