Sweat dripped onto my face - his sweat. The rhythm of our breathing was in sync. Both were labored and continuing to trend further in that direction. Whenever a moan would escape my lips, a satisfied cocky smile would form on his. He pinned my shoulders down with his meaty paws. They wrinkled my red jersey - a jersey I hadn't worn since my playing days thirteen years ago. He wore a matching jersey, only his was a little more filled out. His burly arms stretched the elastic of the sleeves and his plump belly filled the red mesh to make the number 58 on it perfectly readable. The white lettering that spelled out Cedar Springs was partially covered up by the backs of my knees which had been draped over his shoulders. My body was folded in half as this man that was double my size buried his cock deep into me. He broke his steady rhythm and thrusted hard into me causing me to moan louder than I had all night.
"Yeah? Does my QB like that? Does my QB like his center's thick cock?"
"Yes Sir. Please. Pound me." I said panting for breath.
"That's a good boy. Good QB. Let the big men do all the work. You know how to do that, don't you?"
"Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir."
"Good boy. Good boy."
Tyler proceeded to pound me with heavy thrusts. I could now feel his thigh pads press against my bare hamstrings. Tyler had wanted to live out this little fantasy of ours - fucking me while in our old football uniforms. I, too, had dawned a pair of tight crimson pants earlier in the night. The knee pads in them proved to be very useful during the foreplay leading up to this point. We took a couple of snaps for old times sake and then once we were all horned up I dropped to my knees and kissed and sniffed every part of his red nylon pants starting in the back and making my way around the front, finishing with my head buried in his ample sack. I, then, undid the drawstring and parted the pants when my appetite could not be teased any longer. I provided a service of gratitude to this beast in the trenches for his many years of protecting my scrawny ass. But when the drive entered the "red zone," I was lifted off my knees, thrown on the bed, and unceremoniously stripped of my football pants. I wore only my number 3 jersey and a red jock (a jock I had been made to wear all week and contained the name of me and Tyler's high school football coach on the tag).
Tyler's heavy breathing turned more into grunts, and I could tell he was getting close. I became more audible too, driven by the sound of his husky growls.
"That's it, boy. Let me hear you."
I responded with more moaning.
"C'mon QB. You can do better than that! You're a signal barker. So bark!!"
I smiled at this and tried to channel the volume of a quarterback starting a play. My moans became full fledged whines which is not how you want to sound on the field. But, the patheticness of my voice sent my center over the edge, and he growled deep from inside his chest. With one final thrust, he unloaded, and then collapsed on top of me.
We stared at each other as we caught our breath. We both smiled. He kissed me on the forehead. "Touchdown," he said.
He rolled over and laid there by my side still trying to catch his breath. When the blood returned to my legs I looked over at him. The crimson football pants he wore were now a dark red from all the sweat they had collected over the course of the last half hour. It was a color I knew all too well from our many Friday nights together. His dick still hung from his opened pants and his belly poked out from underneath his jersey. We both looked at each other. The fantasy was slowly disappearing into the musky air and we realized how ridiculous we looked laying in his bed with football uniforms on. We shared a good laugh. We took off our clothes and laid there in our underwear: me in a jock, him in black Under Armour boxer briefs.
"So you guys lost again tonight." Tyler said.
"Yeah, we played like crap."
"To West Plains? That's bad. Really bad. Sorry for being honest."
"No, you're fine." Although on the inside I thought he was an asshole. "You're right, anyway. That's only their second win all year."
"I'd imagine the Richmond faithful are quite upset."
"Yeah, they are. No one says anything to me. but I can read it on their faces. I think my assistants are frustrated too."
Tyler and I continued to talk about the season. He tried to comfort me a little. I think part of him felt guilty for the hand he played in outing me to our high school football coach, Coach Brooks. Coach Brooks was the coach of the Cedar Springs Red Raiders - a powerhouse football program that Tyler and I played for years ago and whom we both were assistant coaches for until recently (Tyler still was). Coach Brooks had humiliated my team in a beatdown last Friday, and at an after party after walking in on me and Tyler having some fun, had seduced me and eventually put me on my back and fucked me. I was to meet with Coach Brooks on Sunday evening for a film session. I suspected watching film wasn't all we would be doing however.
"So what did Coach Brooks talk to you about after...you know?" Tyler hesitated to ask.
I told Tyler about my conversation with Coach Brooks last Sunday. I had to check in with him each day, and was not allowed to cum without his permission. He also sent me a red jock in the mail with his name on the tag. I was instructed to wear this jock each day. Coach Brooks had also explained to me that only men used their dick and wore what they wanted. I wasn't a real man. I was a boy. His words not mine. I didn't object to any of this. All I said was, "Yes Coach. Yes Daddy."
I could tell from the stir in his boxer briefs that Tyler was starting to get hard again from my story. He told me about his own sexual history with Coach Brooks. It was definitely more dignified than my current predicament. Tyler didn't need any man's permission to cum and he could wear whatever underwear he wanted. That made sense. Tyler was big, strong, and weighed 260lbs. He was much more of a man than my 160lb skinny frame. Even so, Tyler was definitely in some ways at the service of Coach Brooks.
While on the surface our relationships with Coach Brooks might seem degrading, we knew no one should feel sorry for us. Coach Brooks had been our fantasy daddy since our playing days. We were only too happy to be able to drink from such an icon of masculinity. Hell, Coach Brooks was such a legend in these parts, I think any man, young or old, would be on their knees for Coach Brooks if he simply demanded it.
"So are you going to let me cum tonight?" I blushed hearing myself say those words out loud.
"Let me think about that one." Tyler's hand returned to my red pouch. It was pointing straight north toward my belly button, but the waistband of my jock still laid flat against my abdomen undisturbed and untouched by my four inch erection. "Damn he's small. You'd think after not being able to exercise for a week he'd be a little bit bigger - ready to bust at the seams at the slightest touch. But no, he's still just a little guy."
I exhaled deeply, delighting in the subtle touches of his big hands and the sweet sound of his words. I loved being made to feel small both in mind and in body. I scooted closer to him and nuzzled into his bigger frame.
