Ex rugby player goes from gangbang loving, cum eat pig to....

[nicktheslut]

If you want to know the lead-up to the moment in this story, follow the link below. 

I spent the next week thinking about Scout’s dad fucking his wife’s arse, and at football training, I kind of hoped his dad would visit and give me an opportunity to ask him more about it. Scout was still his distant self, so I told myself the best option was to keep treating him the same as the rest of the team. A few weeks had passed, no Scout’s dad and no fucking except for jerking off in the showers. Life was beginning to feel a little mundane.

An old mate of mine from my pro football days hit me up, and we decided to go out and have a bloody good time. We kicked things off with a few lines of Coke to get the night rolling, then chilled on the deck with a smoke, beers in hand, before hitting the town’s bars. As midnight neared, we were hopping from pub to pub, deep into the night and feeling more raucous with each drink. We finally found a spot in the CBD to hang back and gather ourselves. My mate started telling me about his thatched roof back home—his wife had just found out he'd been seeing other girls behind her back. I shared a bit of my own past with my ex. He wasn’t exactly surprised; he used to be part of the footy crew that loved a party and a bit of trouble. He even reckoned he saw me eating her out after we all gangbanged her—that time’s stuck with him. Honestly, I sometimes wonder if he might’ve been the one who leaked those pics.

We made our way to Collingwood. I think we grabbed an Uber. By this stage, I was fucked up. I drank and sniffed so much coke that time became a bit of a blur. I recall queuing up with my mate, trying to compose myself. My mate was in the same state. Music is pumping in the club, and I’m wondering where the fuck I was?

 

‘Oi, I know you lot. Used to play for the Rabbitohs, right?’ someone in the line said.

‘Used to, mate,’ my friend muttered.

‘Just so you know, this is a gay club,’ the random bloke added.

‘Fuck me!’

My mate and I burst into laughter.

‘Where the hell have you taken me?’ I asked him.

He just laughed.

‘I dunno, mate. No idea how we even ended up here,’ he replied.

We reached the front of the line, and the bouncer stopped us. He knew full well that we were too intoxicated, and after the comment from the random in the line, he refused us entry. I reckon because he was concerned we might cause a scene or start a fight if something were to happen. If someone were to try to make a pass at us.

 

‘I think it is time we call it.’ My mate said as we stood by the side of the road.

He waved a taxi down. It pulled up and hopped in the back seat.

‘I’m gonna walk home, mate. I need to sober up.’

‘Suit yourself.’

 

And the taxi left. I wandered the streets, having no idea where I was or where I was going. I needed a drink. Water. Something. I walked into a convenience store and walked up to the counter.

 

‘Where’s the fridge, mate?’ 

‘Huh?’ the bloke behind the counter grunted, scratching his head.

‘Just a bottle of water, Ta. Thought I’d grab one while I’m here.’ 

‘You’re in a bloody sex shop. We’re selling dildos, not bottles of water.’

 

I pulled my head in and looked around. I noticed a wall full of porn movies, cabinets full of dildos and all kinds of other sex toys. I had no idea how to describe or could never have envisioned how they would work. There were a couple of mannequins dressed in jockstraps and leather harnesses, which I initially thought were people and a door near the back with pink, purple, blue, and orange strips hanging in the front, waving about in the air, blowing out from behind them.

 

‘I need to sit down for a moment. Can I just sit?’

‘Yeah. Out the back.’ The guys smirked.

 

I brushed past the colourful strips into a dark and dim hallway. There was a faint beat to the low-level music. As I drew further in, the sound was soon drowned out by moaning and humping. The air had a dense, stale smell. Almost like cigarettes and a dirty men’s bathroom, but slightly different. Slightly mixed with the smell of sex. I entered a room lit only by a large screen at the far end and sat down. I must have dozed off. I slowly came to. Woken by a strange feeling on my cock. I opened my eyelids to find a man around my age sucking on my hard cock.

 

‘Fuck!’ I pushed him off my cock ‘What the fuck are you doing?’

‘Wow. Sorry mate. I thought you were enjoying it. Seemed like it. You are rock hard.’

 

He was right. My cock was hard. But shit. I was out of it. I didn’t realise I was even getting a blow job. And from a guy from that matter.

 

‘Dude. I’m not gay.’

The guy sat next to me. He seemed a little puzzled, then pointed to the screen.

‘You realise you are in a gay cruise club.’

I looked at the screen to find two masculine blokes fucking. One guy with swimsuit tan lines on his arse bent over with another muscular guy fucking him from behind.

 

‘Jesus! How’d I get here?’

‘Beats me, mate. But you are here.’

 

Every inch of my mind was telling me to get up and leave. But for some reason, I keep looking at the screen. Watching… Admiring the good-looking guys fucking. They reminded me of the lads from the football team I coach. I moved my hand to my cock and began to massage it.

For a moment, I forgot the guy sitting next to me, then he caught my eye when he pulled out some glass pipe and a lighter. I turned to watch him heat the bulb at the end and smoke from it. He noticed I was watching.

 

‘Want to try some?’ He said as he exhaled a white cloud from his mouth.

‘What is it?’

‘Think of it as a pick-me-up.’

‘What? Like cocaine?’

‘Even better. It will get you super horny.’

 

I figured, why the hell not? I had been partying all night, and I was already feeling a little horny from watching what was happening on the screen. I figured it might help me relax and not be so nervous about what I was watching. I grabbed the pipe, followed the guy's lead, heated the bulb at the end, and smoked.

 

‘Keep breathing in. Don’t stop.’

I didn’t. It was a rush of adrenaline that hit me from head to toe. I slowly exhaled and repeated the action.

‘There you go.’

 

I felt an instant need to fuck. I wanted to fuck. But I wasn’t going to fuck a guy. No way. But I didn’t mind watching the gay porn playing on the screen. So, I sat back and jerked for a while.

‘Enjoy your night, mate. I’d suggest exploring the club. You might be surprised.’ He hinted at me and walked off.

 

Interested in what he suggested, I explored deeper into the dark venue. The intense stale smell got stronger the deeper I went. I had not realised how many people were in there. Men… Only men. My mind widened to who I was noticing. First, and most present were young guys, clearly drunk or high, then there were the really old men. Wrinkly, scaly, one had his shirt off, sitting on a bench, fiddling with his tiny dick. But then I noticed clean-looking guys, one in a suit sitting in a booth and a guy on his knees sucking his cock. Guys were at different stages of undress, but what caught my attention were those wearing leather harnesses or just walking around in jockstraps. One particular guy got my attention. He was large and burly, with a big, hairy belly, leaning against the entrance to a booth, wearing boots, jeans, a thick leather belt with a heavy-looking buckle, and a leather harness crisscrossing his large, hairy chest. His eyes locked onto mine, and he lifted a cigar to his lips. As he sucked, the end lit up, giving me a little bit of light to see his long, scruffy beard, then blew out the smoke, which I caught a whiff of as I walked past him. He stayed locked on me the whole time.

I could hear the sound of moaning in the distance, the ruffling of what sounded like a large group of men and a hint of a thumping noise. The moaning didn’t sound normal, almost like a drunken, painful noise. Curious, I followed it to a dark room with just a sliver of light peeking through from the gay porn playing on a large screen over the other side of the wall. I walked in. It was crowded. Guys cramped in there, all facing the same direction. I could sense the rhythm of men jerking themselves, and in the middle, a figure getting fucked.

I weaved my way in closer; my eyes began to adjust to the dim light. I made my way near the middle and bumped into who the guy was fucking. I was shocked at first. I couldn’t believe what I just walked into. A guy with his face and chest planted into a low, small bench big enough for only one person, while on his knees, spread wide and arse in the air, and a guy fucking him from behind. I was frozen in my state of surprise, but shocked that my instincts weren’t that of disgust. Instead, I felt my cock throbbing in my pants. ‘I’m not gay,’ I kept telling myself. Light kept flickering through. I caught glimpses of the men in the room. Some were young, fit, but most, in fact, I reckon nearly all of them were old men. Some seem like respectable older men, like the fella I saw in the hall wearing a suit, but most look weathered and gaunt. Cocks were out, guys were jerking themselves, and they all had one thing on their mind: to watch this guy face-plant in the bench getting railed.

 

‘Fuck, yeah. I’m cumming.’ The guy fucking moaned out.

‘Yeah. Give him your load.’ Some said in the crowd

‘Dump in him.’ Said another, somewhere in the back.

 

The guy fucking jittered, and his fucking shortened to quick jabs as he unloaded on the guy. He slipped out as he wiped the sweat off his brow. I couldn’t believe what I just watched. I couldn’t believe that I had a rock-hard boner in my pants from it. And just as I thought the show was over, another guy moved in behind the guy. This guy was much older with a long, solid cock, and he just pushed in balls deep and started fucking. The original guy who just unloaded his cum on the guy disappeared into the crowd. All the while, the guy being fucked, moaned and grunted. It was hard to tell whether he liked it or was in agony. This was all too much. I was peaking from what I had smoked earlier and was uncontrollably horny. I unzipped my pants, pulled them halfway down my hairy thighs and grabbed a hold of my cock and jerked away like the rest of the guys in there.             

The light flickered again, and I could see a glimpse of the guy with his arse in the air getting fucked with his face planted into the bench. I was surprised by how young the guy was; he couldn’t have been more than 19, with sandy blonde hair and a nice physique. Kinder reminded me of Scout. As the light flickered across his face, I noticed that he seemed semiconscious. He was kinder awake, but not. His eyes were kinder open, and from what I could see, they seemed to roll to the back of his head.

 

‘He took a fuck load of G.’ Some leaned in and murmured into my ear.

G, that was the stuff the gang of blokes gave my ex-wife when they gangbanged her. The guy who murmured into my ear moved a little brown bottle up to his nose and took a huge sniff up each nostril. He must have noticed I was watching and offered it to me.

 

‘What is it?’ I whispered.

‘You’ll thank me after.’

I took the bottle and followed his lead. Instantly, the already pulsing meth in my system that had me horny as fuck, elevated to a whole new level. I felt an instant rush through my body. I was gone. My concerns about my sexuality evaporated, and I was completely hooked on what I was watching. I jerked furiously. The young man with his head planted on the bench was only centimetres away from me. I watched his body being thumped to the rhythm of the old man fucking him in the arse. Every time the light flickered on his face, my cock throbbed just a little harder. The guy next to me passed his brown bottle to me again. I took another two big sniffs up each nostril. The rush hit me again. My brain buzzed.

 

‘What is this?’ I whispered.

‘Poppers, mate.’

I needed to get some of it for myself.

 

‘Fuck yeah, boy. You’re about to get my seed.’ The guy fucking yelled out.

‘Yeah! Breed him.’ Someone in the crowd followed.

‘Get him pregnant.’ Another said.

Get him pregnant? I laughed to myself. How funny. He is a boy. The guys fucking started to moan and held onto the boy’s hips tight. He was cumming. He must have had a huge load, because he was in that position for a while. He pulled out, and another stepped up and pushed his cock into the boy, who moaned.

 

‘Fuck. How many guys have fucked him?’ I whispered again.

‘Since I have been here. I have watched 8 guys fuck and breed him.’

‘8 guys. What?! And he knows who these guys are?’

‘Nah mate. He is a cumdump. He doesn’t know who is fucking him. He is only here as a hole for strangers to use and breed.’

 

The thought of this young boy, no more than 19 years old, completely high on G, getting fucked without any protection by strangers, while semiconscious, was too much for me, and I lost control. I jerked really fast, and I felt my orgasm rise. I moaned out loud, followed by a torrent of cum shooting all over the back of the boy’s head, the side of his face and his shoulder blades. My cumming must have set off a chain reaction. I heard another guy in the dark moan, and through the glimpse of light, I saw a large cock hovering just over the boy’s head, being jerked off and ejaculating all over the boy’s face, mixed with my load.

 

I woke up to a hand tapping me on the shoulder.

‘Dude. It is closing time.’

My eyes sprang open. Static on the large monitor. My pants were down to my ankles, my soft, crusty cock flopped over my thigh. The guy from the counter was standing over me.

‘Clearly you had a good time.’

 

I must have passed out. I had no idea how long I had been slumped in the chair like this. I stumbled to my feet, pulling my pants back up and left.

 

I showered, my mind flickering through what I watched the night before. I kept telling myself that I am no faggot, and it was the drugs that made me think and feel the way I felt. But the young lad taking dick after dick and never seeing who they were kept springing to the front of my mind, and I was raging hard. I jerked off in the shower and sprayed my load across the tiled wall. ‘Fuck’, I thought. ‘What the fuck is wrong with me?’ I had to do something about it.

 

Let me know what you think. And tell me what you think happens next.

 

[BoYGaSM]

FUCK!  That is a hot chapter.  

[Palley]

Love it man

[negchaserlooking]

Oh yeah, pants around his ankles! Did he do more than just jerk off I wonder?

[slavetoy4u2use]

Love the story so far look forward to more

[barebamabear]

This is great! More please! Don’t hesitate to swap between the two categories for all your fans 

[nicktheslut]

Thank you for all the responses and feedback. here is the next part of the story. Let me know what you think and post what you think happens next.

For the next couple of weeks. I tried to hook up with women. I would pick up chicks at bars, bring them home, and try to fuck them. I found that I wasn't getting hard enough, and the feeling wasn’t the same. I even booked an escort, and the same thing happened. I thought it was because I needed to fuck a sloppy, used hole. So, I organised my mate from the other night to come over and bang a bird with me. He was hesitant. He was married with kids, but we both knew he fucked behind her back. I fucked the bird after he had blown in her dozens of times, but my mind went to that boy’s beautiful, smooth body, perky white arse being fucked by a stranger… An older man.

I went to my dealer. I needed what I had that night, which I learnt was meth. I asked him about poppers, and he, of course, knew what they were and had supplies.

‘Poppers.’ He said.

‘Yeah. I think that’s what it was called.’

My dealer just rolled his eyes. ‘How strong?’

‘You sell it?’

‘Yeah. I do. How strong?’

‘Strongest you got.’

At first, it was casual. A smoke here, a smoke there. Weekend business. I’d still try to fuck girls, still go through the motions, still pretend my body was listening to the script I’d been handed. It never hit right. The release was there, but the spark? Dead on arrival.

Then one night, I wandered back to that back room.

Same door. Same low light. Same sense of stepping sideways out of the world. Inside, it was wall-to-wall blokes—old, young, built, broken, confident, desperate. Sweat, smoke, sex hanging in the air like a storm about to crack. I was raging hard, off my face, heart thumping like it wanted out of my chest. Whether I’d timed it perfectly or whether it was always like this didn’t matter—there was fucking everywhere. Bodies pressed, hands roaming, breathy sounds swallowed by the dark.

Part of me still flinched at the idea of men on men. Old wiring dying slow. But I’d heard about glory holes. Urban myth made flesh.

I shut myself into one of the booths. Tiny. Private. Loud in my head. I sat there for a moment, brain floating somewhere above the ceiling, cock heavy in my hand, answering a call I’d been dodging for years.

Then—

“Hey… can I suck it?”

A whisper. Low. Close. Not from behind me.

From the hole in the wall.

I ignored it at first. Let the moment hang. Let the pulse build.

Then something inside me finally unclenched. A quiet voice saying, stop fighting it.

I never saw who it was. That was the point. Just a wall between us, solid and anonymous. I stood, guided myself forward, and pushed through the opening.

The response was instant. Warm. Wet. A mouth closing around my cock with intention, not hesitation.

Fuck.

Whoever was on the other side knew exactly what they were doing. Took my cock deep, no theatrics, no mercy. No woman had ever handled me like that—so sure, so unafraid. My body answered before my head could catch up.

I started moving. Slow at first. Then harder. The wall thudded as I lost rhythm, lost restraint, hips snapping forward like I was trying to disappear into it. The mouth didn’t retreat. If anything, it met me, took everything I gave.

A hitch of breath. A gagged sound. Slicker now. Messier. Still there.

I dragged the poppers under my nose, long and greedy, the room dissolving as I floated higher and higher. Everything narrowed to sensation. Heat, pressure, surrender.

I didn’t last. Couldn’t.

When it hit, it was violent and unstoppable, my cum spilling into the dark, erupting into a stranger who accepted it without a sound.

No faces. No names.

Just release.

My worries about playing with men didn’t vanish overnight, but they thinned out, lost their grip. Curiosity outpaced fear. Before I knew it, that back room had me clocked as a regular. Familiar nods. Familiar heat. I started branching out—other cruise clubs, other shadows—and that’s where I learned about beats. Different geography, same hunger.

I let blokes suck my cock without overthinking it. Watched men get fucked like it was live theatre, raw and unfiltered. No shame, no curtains. Just bodies doing what they wanted.

My first time at a sauna was strange in how normal it felt. Like a football change room after training—same steam, same casual nudity, same sideways glances—except this time there was fucking and full-blown gay debauchery unfolding in every direction. And honestly? I didn’t hate it. I found myself studying physiques, appreciating strength, shape, presence. It felt honest. Unpretentious.

Eventually, I wasn’t leaving the house for much else. Football coaching or cruising—that was the whole operating model. Everything else felt like admin. Busywork. Noise.

My place was littered with paraphernalia. Pipes, baggies, the quiet evidence of a life slipping its leash. Control wasn’t gone yet, but it was wobbling. There were nights I turned up to football training high on meth—eyes sharp, patience thin, confidence blown out to dangerous proportions. I knew I was fraying. I just didn’t give a fuck.

Finals were looming, and the team was humming. We were genuine contenders to take the season. On paper, everything looked solid. In reality, cracks were everywhere—especially with Scout. He wasn’t himself. Or maybe I was seeing him too clearly.

I pulled the green light on him. Went hard. Harder than necessary. The team started whispering that I was favouring him, so I overcorrected—stares that lingered too long, pressure dialled up every chance I got. Punishment disguised as discipline.

A few weeks out from the grand final, another training night rolled around. It was pissing down rain, cold and relentless. I didn’t soften it. Didn’t adjust the plan. I ran them into the ground anyway. By the end, they were wrecked—soaked, filthy, mud ground into skin and jerseys.

Scout mouthed off. Pushed back. A fucking prick about it.

I sent the rest of the team to the lockers, told them to clean up. Then I made Scout wait. Alone. Standing there in the rain and mud, while I let the silence do the work.

“What the fuck’s going on, Scout?” I barked. “Finals are breathing down our necks and you’re acting like a complete wanker.”

He just stood there in the rain, head bowed, water streaming through those sandy-blond curls. I clocked it. Hated that I clocked it. The night was doing strange things to my focus.

“Scout.”

“Mum’s pregnant.”

That wasn’t on the training plan.

“Oh.” I recalibrated. Corporate pivot. “That’s… that’s not a bad thing, mate. Why’s it got you this rattled?”

I stepped closer, close enough to feel his heat through the cold. Grabbed his upper arms, gave him a small shake—half frustration, half something I didn’t have a label for yet.

“Look at me.”

He lifted his head. His eyes were wrecked—crystal blue, wet, lost. Not weakness. Confusion. The kind that pulls you under if you stare too long.

“It’s yours.”

“What?”

“I saw that night. You were there.”

My stomach dropped. Freefall.

“Scout,” I said carefully, voice low now. “You’re jumping to conclusions. Adults fuck. It doesn’t mean—”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Dad can’t have kids.”

Silence punched in between us. Rain filled the gap.

“Oh. Shit.”

Before I could regain control—before I could coach my way out of it—he leaned in and kissed me.

Soft. Brief. Electric.

I froze. Thirty-plus years of rules, titles, and self-control screaming at once. Coach. Authority. Fucking adult. My body, however, missed the memo. He was 18. Yes. Legal age. But something felt wrong about it. Yet so right.

Time slipped. Then snapped back.

He pulled away first, eyes wide, already panicking. I was still standing there, rain dripping off my chin, pulse hammering in places it shouldn’t.

“I—” he started.

I should’ve stepped back. Should’ve shut it down. Instead, I bent forward and kissed him back; slower this time, deliberate, just long enough to admit the truth neither of us was saying out loud.

The rain kept falling.

And nothing was simple anymore.

I poured a double rum over ice and necked it like it owed me money. Rolled a fifty, and laid out two lines on the marble bench. Snorted them without ceremony. The music was up, heavy metal, all distortion and threat, when the knock came.

“Fuck. Not now,” I muttered. “Neighbours can fuck right off.”

Another knock. Louder.

My brain did the math at speed and came up with one answer I didn’t want.

Scout’s dad.

Holy shit.

Either he was here to tell me I’d knocked up his wife… or to rearrange my face over what happened in the rain with his son. I poured another rum, swung it back, felt it burn all the way down. Liquid courage. Corporate risk management.

I walked to the door, heart kicking, and pulled it open to whatever was coming.

It wasn’t his dad.

It was Scout.

Soaked through. Hair plastered to his head. Rain dripping off his nose, his jacket, pooling at his feet like he’d been standing there longer than he should’ve.

“Ah—Scout,” I said, buying time. “What are you doing here?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Words clearly stuck somewhere between his chest and his throat.

“Come in.”

I didn’t wait for permission. Threw an arm around his shoulders and guided him inside, quick glance over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching. Door shut. The lock clicked. The coke chose that moment to fully light me up.

“Mate, you shouldn’t be here,” I said, too fast. “Fuck—you must be freezing.”

I grabbed the throw rug off the big leather couch and tossed it at him. He caught it awkwardly, still half somewhere else, eyes darting around my place like he was already cataloguing the mess of it.

Music thumping.

Drugs humming.

Rain left outside—but not really.

The night had just escalated without a meeting invite.

“I needed to see you.”

“Shit… um. Now really isn’t a great time.”

I glanced around the living area—drugs out, empty bottles everywhere, the place telling on me before I could.

Scout drifted to the floor-to-ceiling windows, rain-streaked glass framing the Melbourne skyline like a postcard I didn’t deserve.

“I knew you had a nice place,” he said, almost smiling. “Didn’t realise the view was this good.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” I busied myself, scooping up empties, sliding a glass pipe off the coffee table like it hadn’t been there all along. “I wasn’t expecting anyone. What… what are you doing here?”

He stepped in and tried to kiss me.

I pulled away, heart punching, and retreated down the hall toward the kitchen. He followed. I dropped the bottles on the marble bench a little too hard. The coke was buzzing now, skin humming, thoughts outpacing judgment.

He came up behind me. Close. Too close. His arms circled my waist; his hands slipped into my shorts. I wasn’t wearing jocks. He grabbed a hold of my shaft. I moaned at his touch. He squeezed slightly. My cock stiffened slightly. Intense, grounding and dangerous all at once. I sucked in a breath despite myself, my body reacting before my head could throw a flag.

A low sound escaped me—half protest, half surrender.

That was enough to snap me back.

I caught his hands, untangled myself, and turned to face him. Put space between us. Not much, but deliberate.

“Stop,” I said, quieter now. “We can’t just… do this.”

The room felt smaller. Louder. Charged with everything we weren’t saying.

“Yes,” he said, breath unsteady. “I want you. I always have.”

He swallowed. “I’m in love with you, Coach.”

“Scout… I’m not—”

The words stalled. Weak. Unconvincing.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” he pressed on. “After training. In the showers.”

Not accusing. Certain.

“Fuck.” My jaw tightened. “Scout, has anyone else seen you?”

“No.” A pause. Then, softer—deadlier. “It’s our little secret. You… you open my eyes, Coach.”

I turned away and headed back toward the living area, needing space, needing air. “You’re young,” I said, reaching for a reason like it might save us both. “You’re figuring yourself out.”

He followed me.

“I’ve done things,” he said behind me. “You know. I’ve… experimented.”

I stopped. Looked back at him. “Done what?”

He hesitated, then lifted his chin, defiant now. “I’ve sucked guys off before.”

The admission hung there, quiet, deliberate, irreversible.

The room felt tighter. Like a door closing somewhere I couldn’t see.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Scout started to tell me how he started fooling around with boys his age. But then his stories grew a little darker. He told me he has been going to beats and cruise clubs, and while he has not done a lot, he has sucked a lot of guys off.

I was concerned for him. And I was. At first.

But as he spoke, my body betrayed me. My cock was pushing through my shorts. Scout noticed. He told me how he met a guy close to my age; they didn't chat much. The guy gave him a smoke from a glass pipe, similar to what I had tried to hide. One thing led to another, and the guy took Scout to a private room, pulled his shorts down and ate out his arse. That surge of horniness rushed through him. In that moment, he wanted more. He hoped the guy would fuck him.

The guy moved to Scout’s cock and blew him. Deep long strokes with his old man mouth. Scout felt his orgasm simmer, but he didn’t want to cum, so he pushed the old man off his cock.

The man misread the moment. Or maybe read it exactly how he wanted. Scout described it like he was narrating a film he’d watched too many times, detached, oddly proud. Scout grabbed a hold of the old man’s boner sticking out from his aged body. Looked past the hairy belly and chest, and up into his drug-peaked eyes, then drove his dick balls deep down his throat. He reckons it was what he smoked that allowed him to go so deep. He had never done that before.

The old man took it as a sign. Grabbed Scout by the back of his head and throat fucked him.

There was a moment, he said, when he thought he might pass out. He remembered being so high that he didn’t care how the man was treating him. The man just fucked his throat, occasionally pulling all the way, then slamming it back in. Mucus puked everywhere, and Scout used all his willpower to push through and let the man fuck.

The old man kept driving it deep. Scout felt his throat stretch open at every thrust. The old man moaned and announced he was going to blow. Scout thought he was going to shoot down his throat. Scout was prepared to get a good flood of this man’s cum, but he pulled out instead and unloaded over Scout’s face.

My cock twitched at the thought of cum splattering over his beautiful young face. The story got me fucking horny, and the cocaine intensified it. I was sweating. I adjusted my cock. I noticed Scout.

“Holy shit, Scout,” I said quietly. “Do your parents know you’re… gay?”

“No. At least—I don’t think so.” He hesitated. “Dad wouldn’t take it well. He’s always going on about how dangerous gay men are. Says they don’t care who they hurt, who they infect. Talks about the seedy side of it like it’s all rot and disease.”

“Because he works for the AFP,” I said.

“Pretty much.”

That did it. The buzz faltered, just enough for reality to punch through.

I hadn’t thought about it before. Not properly. The risks. Infections. Consequences that don’t show up immediately but linger, waiting. I’d spent years convincing myself danger belonged to other people—reckless people.

I stared at nothing for a moment, mind spiralling, and wondered, too late, too honestly, what you could catch just from letting someone get that close.

Scout was shaking a little. Still wet.

“Hold on, I’ll grab a proper towel.”

I went to the bathroom and checked myself in the mirror. Fuck, I looked like shit, stubble beard, bloodshot eyes, sweating, dripping down my shirtless body. My cock. Raging hard. I knew I shouldn’t feel this way about him. Scout was only 18. But he was such a beautiful boy, I couldn’t control it. I walked back in with a towel and found Scout naked, sitting on the couch, with a glass pipe in his mouth, heating the bulb and sucking in deep.

“Fuck! Scout. What are you doing?”

“Relax. Coach. Join me. I know you want to.”

He stood up I admired his beautiful, young, masculine, smooth body. His six-pack framed by his V-cut, pointing down to his perfect, uncut, semi-hard cock and low-hanging balls. I must have been daydreaming.

“Coach.”

He handed me the pipe and lighter.

I grabbed the pipe, holding it steady as I locked eyes with him. His pupils were blown wide now; the drug was catching up, sinking its hooks in. I lit it and drew slow, deliberate, smoke curling between us.

Scout dropped to his knees.

The movement alone sent a jolt through me. I pushed my shorts down just enough to feel the air shift.

My cock flung up. Raging. My knob pulsed.

My body answered before my head could intervene. Everything in me was awake, pulsing, unapologetic.

I took another drag and looked down.

My cock was hovering just above his head. Just below his blue eyes and slightly floating above his perky lips. Blue eyes, glassy, fixed on mine.

Breath shallow, like he was waiting for permission that neither of us was brave enough to name.

Time slowed.

Smoke hung.

The room held its breath.

Nothing touched yet, and somehow that made it worse.

He opened his mouth and pushed it over my cock. Soft lips, moist mouth massaged as he went deep.

My mind was in all sorts. Between a daydream and reality. It was hard to tell. Guys have sucked my cock. But that was through glory holes. I’ve never watched a guy actually suck my cock.

And Scout. He wasn’t a guy. He was a young lad, 18.

Devouring my cock like a starved animal. Blue eyes locked on me. Spelling the words with his dilated pupils, I belong to you.

Long, deep strokes. He kept his pace. He didn’t slow down. Kept pumping my cock deep down his throat. The drugs were peaking through my system, and I wanted more.

I grabbed the brown bottle from the coffee table. Undid the lid. Instantly, the aroma aroused my senses. I noticed Scout's eyes shift for the first time. Still deep throating my cock, making it slick with his saliva and mucus, he took an interest in what I had in my hand.

His eyes followed as I moved the bottle to each nostril and took in two long, drawn-out sniffs in each. The instant rush hit me. Scout didn’t have to say a word for me to know that he wanted what I was having.

I lowered it to his nostrils.

He repeated what I did without removing my cock from his mouth.

I was in a rush.

Scout’s eyes burned through phases. First that pearl halo, until the whites went raw and veined, like the drug was repainting him from the inside out. Awake. Gone. Claimed by poppers.

I needed more, so I had another sniff in each nostril. I was peaking off my face. In a haze, and I knew Scout was at that same level. My concerns about being sucked off by a man evaporated. I was hungry. Aggressive. I just wanted to fuck.

I grabbed Scout by the back of his head and pushed my cock down his throat, feeling it break past his tonsils and down his throat pipe. I was too far gone to be concerned with his comfort and fucked. Hard.

I pumped, driving it deep with every thrust. Planting Scout’s face into my pub, crushing his nose into my musky sweat odour, ensuring he could not get away from the potent aroma.

He didn’t pull away.

He loved it.

Bathed in it.

He gagged.

I watched his body reflex as he held back a spew. I kept going. It turned me on.

I wanted it.

I wanted him to puke as I skull fucked him. I took it up a level. It hit the mark.

Scout puked as I face fucked him.

Stomach fluid expelled out from around his lips past my thrusting shaft, exploding over his beautiful young face, slashing up my torso. There was an obscene amount, and it flowed.

Scout never closed his eyes.

His face was covered in his own fluids. It was getting too much for me. I felt my balls tighten. I wanted to keep going, but I didn’t want it to end. I used all my willpower to stop and pull out of his mouth.

Scout coughed instantly. He was air-deprived that whole time.

“Are you okay, Scout?”

He kept coughing for a moment, body shuddering, breath uneven. Then it passed. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes still glassy.

“No.”

I paused. “No?”

“I loved it.”

“I like feeling dirty.”

I grabbed a hold of my slick cock and jerked at the thought of Scout being a dirty boy. I was about to push my cock back into his mouth when he stood up and bent over the couch.

He pointed his perfect pale peach of an arse at me. Legs spread, back arched enough that his cheeks spread open, revealing his tiny pink hole.

Untouched.

Young.

Virgin.

I had that moment of wonder. Am I dreaming?

I never thought of myself as gay. I fucked women. So why am I so turned on by this young lad's arse? I had never felt such an intense drive build up from deep inside me like I did at that moment.

Scout turned his head. Face coated in his own mucus and stomach fluids. Even in his messy, dirty state, he was perfect, sexy, handsome and fucking beautiful. He didn’t have to say it. I knew it. I knew what he wanted. Needed.

“Are you sure?”

His glassy blue eyes twinkled.

“You have never been fucked. I am in my fifties. I am older than your dad.”

He didn’t take his glassy blue eyes off me. I moved in close. My slick cock is only millimetres away from his pink bit.

“You are about to lose your virginity to an old man. Is this what you want? How do you want to remember your first time?”

I placed my knob at the entrance of his virgin hole. Spit moistened his entrance. I tossed him the brown bottle. I didn’t have to tell him what to do. He went to it like clockwork, taking two long whiffs in each nostril.

As he held his breath, letting the poppers rush through his body. I pushed my knob against his tiny pink hole. The mucus from Scout’s throat allowed for perfect lubrication as I felt his pink break and expand over my knob.

“Argh!” Scout moaned loudly. Letting go of the poppers in his system.

I was raging. Wild like a wolf, desperate for a feed. I needed to be inside him. I didn’t stop. I kept pushing.

Knob was well past his opening, and my shaft was driving deep. His tight pink hole was trying with all its might to grip on and stop me, but my strength overpowered it, and it gave way.

I wasn’t going to stop. I was balls deep; Scout was moaning a mixture of pain and pleasure. I didn’t care that he was a virgin. When I fuck, I hammer, and that was what I intended to do.

I power fucked from the get-go.

Driving deep and pulling all the way out, watching his tight grip on my cock pull every time. He had no power over me, and I fucked. Scout moaned louder. He placed his hand against my thigh to try to get me to slow down. Maybe stop me. But I swatted it away and drove deeper. Harder. I grabbed the back of Scout’s neck and pushed his face into the leather couch. His eyes were crushed shut. Moaning in pain… Not Pleasure.

Mucus spitting and splattering every time from each of his cries and pleas. I wasn’t going to stop. I needed to fuck. I needed to break the young lad in.

“Mm, yeah… Take your coach’s cock. Feel it break you open. Ahh… No condom, boy. I’m inside you raw.”

I was power fucking him. His moaning shifted to a scream of pain. His tone was a language of his feelings. Feelings of a moment, wanting to lose his virginity to his coach, to wondering if this was the right thing to do. The pain must have been overwhelming. The lad’s pink virgin hole went from a tiny button to an instant stretched out tunnel being pulverised.

“Ugh. Fuck-” He moaned in pain, “Stop. It’s hurting.”

I had no doubt the neighbours could hear. I didn’t give the young boy time to adjust. I was a starving animal finally devouring my kill. I had fucked a lot of pussy. But it had never felt the way his boy hole felt.

My concerns about my feelings for the lad were gone.

I was lost in a new sensation, and I wasn’t giving it up. I was deaf to Scout’s moans. The boy’s pink buttonhole was mine.

I owned it.

I had no idea how much time had passed. I was completely fixated on fucking. The sensation was building up in my balls. My cock was beginning to feel an impulsive eruption.

Scout went silent.

He surrendered to the invasion. He gave in to my power over him. No. I looked a little closer. He was weeping. I knew I was meant to feel sorrow, but instead it tipped me over the edge.

I took him. I took his virginity.

I broke the lad physically and mentally. The fear in his tears confirmed it.

I lost control.

“Ahh… I’m cumming, boy!!” I shouted from the rooftop.

My balls tightened, and my cock erupted.

I moaned.

I jammed my cock inside the lad with every shot of my load, injecting inside him. I grip around his neck, tighten. The lad was limp. Turned into nothing but a hole for my use.

It had been a long time since I unloaded the amount I knew I was injecting inside me. Women weren’t doing it for me, and I never got the power orgasm I was having in that moment. It was new, it was a sensation, it was like his hole was a vortex drawing my energy from my body through my cock and into it. I thought I owned it. But it owned me. It took me. I was the fly. It was the Venus Flytrap now sucking my life force through every ejaculation.

I didn’t think it was going to end. The sensation was too overwhelming, and I was shaking, pushing on the edge of hurting. Eventually, it did. The vortex let go, and I was released. I slumped on top of the lad like a dead weight. Huffing and puffing like I just ran a marathon. Scout, he just lay there, weeping and with a look that clearly said. What did I do?

I was sweating profusely. Drenched in my own moisture, dripping all over the boy. I slowly felt my breathing dialled down. As it did, my primal mind set reverted back to its normal state. It was here that I had my first concerning thought about Scout.

Fuck.

Scout.

My cock is still solid and inside him. I lifted my weight off him. Pulled my cock back. Scout’s hole gripped tight.

“Ah-!” Scout yelped.

He was still so tight. My cock was wedged deep inside it.

Scout cried. “Argh! It hurts.”

I tried to pull back again, but his hold gripped tighter. Scout cried in pain again.

“Scout. I need to pull out. Just push through the pain.”

I moved slightly, and he cried in pain. I had no choice but to just pull back. Force Scout to just accept it.

I pulled back. His hole gripped on.

I watched my cock pull out with Scout’s tender red hole, dragging out with it until only my large knob was left inside.

“Oh God. Please stop!”  Scout yelped in a hyperventilating state.

“Scout. My knob is still inside you. Your hole is gripped around it. The only way is for me to pull out and you release me. Just accept it. It will be over soon. Just-Just-”

I didn’t give him a chance to answer, and I pulled out. His hole was forced to release my knob.

Scout screamed.

I watched his hole, and for a moment it remained wide open, unsure what to do with itself. Its lips were red, raw, puffy. My load had no barrier in that slight moment; it poured out like a river of white running down the back of the young lad’s smooth balls. Then it retracted. Scout’s hole closed in, leaving a tight, tiny, red, puffy hole. Broken in.

No longer virgin.

The sight of my cum layered over Scout’s balls was too much. That deep inner urge to eat pearly whites boiled over the edge. I knelt down and cupped them in my mouth like a suction cup and sucked them clean. Scout seemed to relax. His hyperventilation slowed down. After I cleaned every drop of my seed off his youthful ball sack, I planted myself on the couch close to Scout’s head, heaving a breath like I just ran a marathon.

My cock was slick with Scout’s arse juices and my cum. Tiny streaks of red down the shaft. I did some damage to him. Guilty struck me.

Fuck.

Scout said no. He begged me to stop. I didn’t. Fuck. I’m an animal. Did I just do what I think I just did?

Scout had not moved. His face was still planted on the leather couch, mucus-covered, with weeping eyes. His perfect pale peach arse was still sticking in the air.

‘Scout?’

Strings of mucus streaking over his lips flapped through each of his breaths as his adrenaline subsided.

He mumbled from behind the spit, ‘Coach.’

‘Scout. Are you ok?’

He didn’t answer. My guilt turned to worry. I think I did do what I think I did. There was a knock on the door.

Fuck!

The neighbours heard.

I grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around my waist, hands shaking as I hauled the front door open. Old man Larry stood there, his wife tucked under his arm, both of them wearing that tight, polite concern people reserve for situations they don’t want details about.

“Hi. Yes. Um… can I help you?”

The words tripped over themselves. The towel barely stayed put. My hair was slicked to my forehead with sweat and product, skin flushed, pupils blown wide. I must’ve looked cooked. The air around me was heavy; The scent of sex wafted off me, which must have been overbearing for them.

“Sorry, mate,” Larry said, clearing his throat. “We just… heard a lot of noise.”

“We thought someone might be hurt,” his wife added gently.

I froze. Full system shutdown. The silence stretched, thick and unforgiving.

Then I felt a hand settle on my shoulder. Warm. Familiar.

Scout stepped into view beside me, calm as anything. Naked. Unbothered. Like this was just another Tuesday night.

“Everything okay here?” he said evenly.

Larry blinked. His wife’s grip tightened on his arm.

“Oh. Right. We—ah—sorry,” Larry muttered. “Didn’t mean to intrude.”

“We should go,” his wife said quickly, steering him away. She glanced back once, twice, eyes flicking between us as they disappeared down the hall.

The door clicked shut.

Scout wandered back to the leather couch and dropped into it like he owned the place. Like nothing had just detonated.

I stood there for a moment, breathing hard, adrenaline still fizzing through me. The room felt altered; charged, wrong, irreversible. I paced once. Twice. Then sat on the edge of the coffee table, close enough to feel his presence, far enough to pretend I was still in control.

Neither of us spoke. The silence said enough.

[KinkyTallBottom]

Fucking hot!   I'd love to see how this develops