Date: Tue, 16 Jun 2020 20:49:02 +0000
From: "out-cast@hotmail.com" <out-cast@hotmail.com>
Subject: Locker Room Banter

Locker Room Banter

This story involves a man's fantasies of sex with a group of assailants. If
you do not like that, you might want to look for another story. If you do
choose to read this, I hope you enjoy and consider making a donation to
keep this site up and running.



A towel around my neck, I nonchalantly follow Dylan into the shower
room. My eyes, seemingly staring at nothing in particular, drink in his
arse. Definitely the best arse on our team: ridiculously pert, lean and
round; a pair of buttocks that could crack the proverbial walnut. Buttocks
that sing to me, inviting me to sink to my knees, cup them with both hands
and pull them apart so that I can bury my tongue in the tight virgin hole
between them.

I sling the towel on a hook. Some of my team mates are already soaking
themselves, so I walk past them to an empty shower near the back. No need
to stare at their bodies too obviously, as I have registered it all
before. Jay: very fine body, but tiny cock. Tom: nice guy, film
star-quality face, okay body, big low-hanging balls. Michael: mwah all the
way through. Jack: generally pretty pleasant looking. Until a few weeks ago
he had a massive tuft of pubic hair, but his girlfriend made him trim it
because she didn't like getting hair in her mouth, or so he claims. The new
spruced look does seem to have added an inch to his manhood.

In a shared shower some men face the wall, others face the room, I don't
need to tell you that I choose to face the room. With water streaming over
my head and my hands running through my hair, I can watch the guys without
it being conspicuous. Yes, I have seen their bodies dozens of times
already, but I still enjoy the sight of water cascading over Dylan's
glorious backside like a mountain stream over two submerged boulders;
thankfully he tends to face the wall and affords me a magnificent view of
them.

I would give my right arm for a wild night with Dylan in my room.

I have to be careful as I watch my teammates. Not just because they might
realize I am staring at them lustfully, but also, more so, because there is
a clear and present danger that a certain part of my body will betray my
feelings.

Troy, our team captain, enters the shower room, showing off his physique
with the swagger of a warrior king. His built is as close to perfection as
you can get, skirting that fine line between muscular and grotesque without
crossing it. A great chest and shoulders, a pair of strong legs and snake
hips. His cock, longer and fatter than average, would have impressed if he
hadn't been directly followed in by Harry.

Harry is the newest member of our squad and after a couple of months the
sight of him still takes my breath away. Generally, he looks pretty normal,
fairly nicely built, pleasant smiling face, blond hair and blue eyes,
certainly nothing awful but nothing too exceptional either. Nothing
exceptional except that, as I watch him walk naked into the shower room,
his manhood swings back and forth with the heavy pendular motion of an
elephant's trunk. Even flaccid, the head almost hangs to his knees. I doubt
that, even soft, I would be able to close my fingers around it.

Where I would give my right arm for a night with Dylan, I'd give both for
one with Harry.

Under the guise of rinsing shampoo from my hair, I follow his journey
through the room, straight towards me, until he steps under the shower to
my right. For a minute, I have to close my eyes and think of old naked
wrinkly women to calm my breathing and avert a disastrous hard-on in the
middle of the team. I soap and rinse my meat and two veg, giving me an
excuse to look down, glancing another peek at that glorious schlong two
feet away. As I make to grab my shower gel, I `accidentally' knock it off
the ledge so it lands at Harry's feet.

"Sorry," I say as I bend to pick it up. His monster is only a foot away
from my face, my eyes cannot possibly avoid looking at it. My hand blindly
grabbles around for the shampoo bottle.

"Look at the floor, you idiot!" My mind shouts at me, "not straight at his
groin!"

Reluctantly, I tear my eyes away, locate the bottle and on my way up, feast
another second on that beautiful sight.

A hand grabs my throat and slams me with my back against the wall. "What
are you looking at, you perv?" Troy has me helplessly pinned. "Caught him
gawping again, guys. Absolutely no doubt about it this time. He was
practically salivating while he was checking out Harry's whatsit."

"Let him," Harry replies dismissively. "He isn't the first and he won't be
the past. It is a cross I have to bear."

"Fuck off! I don't want any pervert queers in our team, eyeing us every
time we shower."

"Yeah, I bet every night he has a wank fantasizing about your fat arse,
Dylan!"

They've grabbed my arms and march me out of the showers. "If he's that
interested in our bodies, let's give him the opportunity to get to know
them intimately."

Soon, I am helpless, bent over the massage table, belts and ropes securing
my widespread ankles and wrists to its legs. Troy spits in his hand and
slathers it on his hard-on. He does look magnificent with 8 inches of
throbbing meat standing between those gorgeous legs. Magnificent and
scary. I've had sex, of course. I have had plenty of men fuck my backside,
but I am sure that won't have prepared me for what is coming. Troy lines
his tool up to my hole and I scream as rams it in ball deep without mercy.

"Like it, perv? It is what you're here for, right?"

He rams it in again, even harder.

"Isn't that why you are in our team? To get to touch other guys during the
game, and to watch them in the showers and get fucked hard afterwards?

He is pumping, long fast thrusts deep into my gut.

"Give it to him, Troy!" The other 12 have formed a naked circle around us,
encouraging their captain as he fucks the shit out of me. He redoubles his
efforts, slamming in hard a dozen-or-so times, before I feel this seed
gushing into my belly. Panting, he leans over me. "Who's next," he asks as
his wilting cock slips from me, "he should be nice and open now."

First Jay, Jack and then Doug have a go at my backside, dumping a load into
my gut. The increasing amount of juice flowing from my behind at least
helps to lube each next entry. Just as Dylan has thrust his long cock into
me, the locker room door opens and Coach Walters walks in. For a moment, he
looks taken aback, but he is not the rescuer I had hoped for, because he
closes the door and leans against the doorframe, watching.

"Don't mind me, boys. This is an internal disciplinary matter, by the looks
of things."

Dylan, frozen while up to his balls inside my arse, restarts his
movements. Long, fast prods, but without the violence of Troy. Without the
urgency of Troy as well, as he takes his time, long-dicking deep into my
bowels and stimulating all my nerve endings. Oh God, this is the best fuck
I've had in a long time.

"Christ, he's enjoying it, look!" Embarrassingly, I have developed a raging
hard-on.

Dylan keeps up his assault of my arse for at least 15 or 20 minutes, and I
shoot an early load onto the locker room floor and a second one while he
fills me up with his hot cum. "If you ever needed proof of who's a first
class lover," he laughs, pointing at my semen on the locker room floor,
"there is it. Please recommend me to your sisters and female friends."

Calum has already taken his place at my behind.

Embarrassing as my position is, now that my arse is open, relaxed and
leaking greasy cum, it no longer hurts me much as one after another
deposits a load inside my gut, and I am almost starting to enjoy
myself. After Calum has finished, Tom, Michael, Oliver and every other
member of the squad fuck me with cocks of varying lengths and girths,
sometimes making me groan in pain, sometimes in pleasure. There is only one
more monster to come. The one I fear but that I look forward to in equal
measure. One massive horse-cock that can still rip my arse to shreds
however gaping I am.

"Just you left, Harry," Troy encourages him.

"I don't think I should," he says timidly, "I might cause some lasting
damage. I am, you know, large."

"It started because he was ogling you, J. He obviously wants it, probably
because you are, you know, large."

Coach steps up and for a moment I think he intends to stop this, but I
couldn't be more wrong. "If you want me to stretch him a bit more before
you take him ..."

He drops his shorts to reveal a fat 10-incher, throbbing with excitement,
which he lines up without waiting for an answer. The violent entry
stretches my ring so much, I cannot help but yelp in shock.

"Shut up, fag. Stick something down his throat, Troy, I don't want to hear
him."

My underpants are stuffed into my mouth and secured with one of my
shoelaces. Coach's next hard thrust drives his fat cock into my gut and
with the third his balls bounce against mine. I groan into the gag from the
fast, painful penetration. The assault is furious. Coach swears at me under
his breath, calling me a faggot, a worthless piece of shit, a fucking
pervert who needs to be fucking fucked, each word emphasized by a violent
deep thrust of his loins. The saving grace is that he doesn't last long,
emptying his balls into my belly after only a couple of minutes.

"All yours, Harry," he says, pulling out of me.

"I don't know...," Harry starts but I can see that he is half hard
already. Larger than any other cock I've ever seen, his monster is
beginning to rise and reveal its true magnificence.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Dylan chants, emphasizing it by clapping his hands in
time. The chant is quickly picked up and a ring of naked, shouting men
forms around us, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Harry is more than half hard now. Over my shoulder I watch his gargantuan
cock towering solidly from his groin, easily over a foot long, wide as a
beer can, or wider perhaps. Surely, I can't take something as large as
that, nobody can. My stomach cramps in fear. My brain doesn't want him to
do this to me, but my belly flutters in excitement. Whether I want it or
not, it will happen. Harry is going to take me and when he does, I will get
my arse penetrated by what may well be the biggest phallus known to
mankind.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Whether it is out of sympathy or because he fears doing serious damage,
Harry is gentler than any of the others as he takes me. Fortunately,
because if he had thrust his monster in violently, I would probably have
died from shock. He slowly forces his head into my backside, stretching my
already open ring further than possible. I scream into the gag when it
finally pops into me.

Harry gives me a moment to adjust, but he is soon urged by Troy to stick it
to me. The monstrous invader slowly infiltrates my belly, stretching my gut
beyond belief. I beg him to stop, but the words get smothered by the
underpants in my mouth. If he'd been able to hear them, I doubt my
assailant would have sympathized though. The progress of his manhood is
unrelenting. he pain is beginning to overwhelm me, my arse and my gut
appear about to rupture, my entire lower body seems to burn. My former
teammates are still chanting, cheering, whooping at the incredible sight of
Harry's huge meat getting forced into me.

"All the way, man! Ram it into him! All the way!"

"Look at his arse, I think he's going to tear before this is over."

I cannot see how far in he is, I only know that I cannot take much more
– No, better make that `cannot take any more'. Harry flexes his hips and
drives another inch or so into my gut. I start begging again, uselessly.

"Christ, he is actually going to give him the entire thing"

I don't know how long it takes him – 10 minutes, 15 perhaps – but
from the reactions I gather that Harry is about to bottom out. Indeed, with
one last hard agonizing thrust, I feel his hips slapping against my butt. I
am crying from pain, from relief, even from pride that a dozen men have
seen how I've managed to accommodate the entire length of the guy's
engorged monster.

"Now fuck him, J. Fuck him hard. Let him feel every inch of the cock he was
slobbering over."

He doesn't fuck me hard, or at least not as hard as he might have, but the
impact is crippling enough as it is. His shunts get longer, pulling out
further each time, before driving back in to the hilt. Not violently, but
brutal enough to pummel my organs. And yet, despite everything, despite the
agony and the strain, my arse is relaxing. My gut is adapting to the tight
stretch around his mammoth girth. Not enjoyable, not enjoyable at all, but
definitely arousing.

"The fucker is getting hard again! Jesus H. Christ! He's getting clobbered
by a guy who is hung like a blue whale, and he is horny for it."

"Fucking pervert"

Harry is long-dicking me, very long-dicking me. Endlessly long thrusts that
end with him grinding his pubic bone into my crack, trying to shove every
fraction of an inch into my backside. His breathing rate increases, he's
reaching a climax. I am reaching a climax. Another climax. The thrusts
become more frantic, harder, as if he is losing control over himself.

"That's it, fuck him!"

"Hard, J."

With his manhood crammed deep in my belly, he begins to fill my gut with
his hot seed. Instantly, I shoot another load in sympathy. But while my
balls are emptied again quickly, he shoots 6 or 7 massive blasts of
manjuice that seem to scorch my insides, before collapsing onto my back.

The punishing assault by Harry seems to have brought things to a natural
end. My teammates dress and pack up. I am untied from the massage table and
left there to my own devices. I spit out the gag, but stay down, don't
talk, don't move, trying not to attract any further attention. Although I
don't think I could have moved anyway if I tried. Every muscle in my body
hurts, every movement seems to cause a searing pain in my underbelly.

When I am finally alone, I move an arm to reach for my backside. Gaping
still, hot sticky wet. I look at my fingers: no blood, so all just
semen. Cum from the dozen-plus men who violently used my arse.

I can't stay here, what if someone walks in and finds me. I drag myself up
off the table. My briefs are wet with saliva, but I put them on anyway to
collect the cum leaking from my behind.

Trousers, shirt. I would need to sit down to return my laces to my shoes,
but my arse is not ready yet for that, so I leave the shoes untied.

About fifteen minutes after the others, I leave the locker room. It is dark
outside already, how long have we been in there? Must be hours.

I limp along the path to the parking lot, towards a waiting Harry.

"Happy Birthday, Darling!" My boyfriend wraps his arms around me and kisses
me on the lips. "Did you like your party?"

I kiss him back. "I did, baby, very much. I wish it were a surprise party,
but it was great even though I knew it was coming."

He smiles broadly. "Isn't funny how easy it was to convince them all to
help you live out your dream, even the straight ones. Dylan and a couple of
the others are waiting in The Green Man for a few birthday drinks. After
that we can go home for a little private celebration."

"Please be gentle, I've had a hard evening."

THE END