This story is entirely fiction—no superstar was compromised writing it. The story has a copyright and can not be used without written consent.
My special thanks to "Isle of Joy" for his superb editing of my story.
Synopsis: Zack McGraw had been a hot prospect—golden boy for San Diego/Blazers. An injury forced management to rethink his contract—it was their decision Zack was to be traded down to the El Paso/Rumble; he was lucky to be picked up by any team, even the minors.
Zack's right arm had put him on the sideline for a year and a half, any sympathy his comrades once had for him had long ago vanished. Truth be told Zack was never liked by his teammates; he was from a small town in Mississippi, a fact that seem to grate on the nerves of the San Diego team. He was always on the defense; they seemed to enjoy needling him at every chance. Consequently he was a loner, except for Beverly, his wife, he had no friends and his heavy drinking was seriously damaging that relationship.
The prospects of a reduced lifestyle from Zack's trade down had Beverly burning the midnight oil thinking of suitable career for him after baseball. Zack failed to grasp the changes the new contract would bring; he left all that for Bev to manage. After much thought she concluded the single plus the twenty-three year old jock had going for him was his looks—he was drop dead gorgeous.
Memorial Day weekend was coming up and Beverly had finally persuaded Zack to take a little vacation, to the beach area west of Tijuana. He had refused to go to any beaches near San Diego and run the risk of being recognized; an incident that happened last year was still fresh in his memory—he had been strongly criticized by a drunken and disgruntled fan.
Beverly drove the whole way to Mexico, and Zack drank steady the entire trip. She didn't very much as she was determined not let him pick a fight, his usual plan of action when confronted with something he didn't want to do.
They parked the car and walked the short distance to the beach. As soon as they reached the sand they were confronted by a large sign that said NO GLASS OR CANS ON THE BEACH. Zack threw down his chest of beer and looked at Bev as if it had been some diabolical plot hatched out by her just to make him as miserable as possible—setting in the sun without beer was unthinkable.
Zack ask a vendor selling watermelon slices where he could find a beer stand. The vendor chuckled and pointed down the beach. Zack thanked him and purchased two slices of watermelon. By now Bev was seething, the slice of melon just added to the burden she was already carrying; she followed a few feet behind Zack mumbling her displeasure.
Bev was aware of the lustful attention Zack was generating as they strolled down the beach. She understood Spanish and people were talking about his good looks.
Typically he was oblivious to the commotion he was stirring up; before marriage they had been high school sweet hearts so Bev had a long history of jealousy. Secretly she enjoyed their isolation; although Zack had never been unfaithful Bev didn't want any temptation around. She studied him as she followed; he was the palest man on the beach and his muscles and flaming red hair seemed to dance in the bright sun light as he walked.
After walking for almost a mile they saw a palmetto thatched roof in the distance; a crowd of rough looking surfers surrounded the open bar. The surfers watched the couple intently as they spread their blanket on the white sand. Zack was so happy beer was back in the equation, he smiled as he jogged toward the open bar, the prospects of a cool beer sent happy feelings charging though his body.
The bartender had two draft beers waiting as Zack approached. "Here ya go my big gringo friend two suds! Ice cold just the way you like 'em." He smiled at Zack and pushed the tall paper cups to the flame haired hunk.
Zack fumbled around in his fanny pack and retrieved his wallet. "What's the damage my friend?"
"Put ya yanqui dollars away! First few brews are on the house." The other patrons had surround Zack and were chanting for him to chugalug the beers. Zack was downing the second beer as two fresh drafts were pushed in front of him. The crowd all laughed and hands slapped Zack on the back, a few landed on his butt.
Zack's stride was a little wobblier on the return trip to the blanket. The surfers watched the big jock's ass juggle as he carried the beers; they moaned and made cat calls loud enough for Bev to respond with a glare of disapproval.
Juan, the bartender, watched the couple stretch out on the blanket. "Man that stud just downed a double dose of Viagra and Ecstasy! He's going to be ready to party-party soon." He groped his rock hard cock as he though about getting in big redhead's pants.
Bev was the first to notice the bulge in Zack's swim trunks. "What's gotten in to you? It's just not decent and you better stop it this minute!"
She began to rethink the wisdom of their Mexican vacation, clearly he was headed for disaster; her face registered the disappointment and rage that was building. She took a sip of beer.
"God this is rot-gut beer!" She quickly poured it on the sand.
Zack was enraged that she didn't offer the beer to him before pouring it out.
"Fuck you Bev! That was perfectly good beer."
He thought about the effect that the callous act would have on the bartender. After all it was sort of a welcome gift.
Bev yelled a stream of reprimands aimed at Zack and stormed away half running down the beach. A loud cheer was heard from the surfers and someone yelled out. "Dude just went ballistic and told his woman to fuck off! No pussy for our gringo boy tonight, guess its going to be us that get lucky after all!"
Zack rolled over on his stomach and decided to soak up some rays while waiting for Bev to come back...he dozed off wondering why his dick was hard. He was awakened from his deep sleep by the sounds of moans and laughter; someone was rubbing Jerkins lotion on his back and legs.
The smell was the first clue that he was being coated with the lotion. Bev used the stuff when she lubed his cock before a good fucking. As he turned his head the setting sun temporarily blinded him; he shaded his eyes with his hand, expecting to see Bev.
He was jolted to find his blanket surrounding by the surfers, silhouetted by the last rays of the sun. Juan, the bartended was kneeling over applying the Jerkins lotion.
"It's okay Big Red you just got to much sun for a pale dude, this going to keep you from a burn latter tonight."
Juan had a big smile as he stared down at the bewildered jock. He slapped Zack's ass and told Zack to turn over. Without hesitation he did as he was told.
When he did his rock hard cock that brought cheers from the surfers. The biggest cock they had seen in a long time was running down the left side of his leg and poking out swim trunks.
A handsome young surfer called Rip knelled down beside Juan; he had a bronze body and Rastafarian hair.
"Fuck man!" he exclaimed. "Check out the dude's big tool! God, the thing must be 9 inches and thick as a brick."
He grabbed it in his right hand and started milking it.
Zack's face lit up, it felt wonderful, but like all straight men he felt compelled to object so he yelled. "What the fuck you think your doing!"
His attempt to stop the invading hand on his cock was short lived as his arms were stretched above his head. Someone raised Zack's head and a cup of orange juice and GHB was brought to his mouth.
"Drink it down stud...it'll have you feeling great in a few minutes," a skinhead surfer laughed. "Or...it'll make you feel great to us."
Zack felt his trunks being pulled down his legs; hands were all over his body exploring his nether regions. A bottle of poppers was placed under his nose; his mouth was covered and his left nostril blocked. "That's it fucker, take a deep breath...you'll feel a rush all over your body."
The poppers were moved to the other side and he breathed in deeply; at the same moment he was feeling a burning rush through body his cock was being jacked hard and forcefully into someone's hot mouth.
Zack's legs were raised and he felt a tongue lapping at his opening trying to force its way in; the tongue was replaced with a finger, finally two figures sawed away at the entrance. His protests were completely incoherent, and the band of expatriates taunted him with their replies.
"Hey gringo we can't understand ya—sounds like you got a dick in ya mouth or something—or maybe ya just need a big dick for a little oral gratification." The surfers laughed with each reply.
The surfers had dropped their board trunks and were slowly jacking, like roman candles they begin shooting off, plastering Zack's body and face. The thick white cum was clinging to his skin like glue, refusing to run except on the steepest inclines. A glob on his nose moved slowly down to his lips; a wild cheer went up when Zack's tongue made a swipe at his top lip, licking it clean.
A skinhead surfer covered in prison tats—and with a rippling muscular body like a pit bull—straddled Zack's chest. He aimed his long cock at his mouth.
"It's dick-sucking time! If I feel any damn teeth against my god-like cock I'll take a lead pipe to you—and you're still goanna deep-throat and swallow—got that pretty boy?" Juan grabbed Zack's ball and twisted them until he screamed.
"Pay attention down here Gringo its cherry busting-101; you're our star pupil tonight. We got fifteen swinging cocks for your enjoyment."
Juan continued to stroke Zack's prostrate with three fingers; suddenly Zack arched his back and shot off straight up. The first volley of cum was thick and exploded like a geyser three feet high and landed on his washboard abs.
Rod, the skinhead surfer straddling Zack's chest, reached back and dragged two figures through the cum collecting on Zack's abdomen and started painting his lips.
"Gringo boy I want you to suck your cum off my fingers."
Zack was operating on automatic pilot and sucked and licked the fingers.
"Way to suck Gringo...now I got something your goanna love!"
Rod removed his fingers from Zack's mouth and quickly replaced them with his long dick, shoving half the cock in his mouth. Zack began to gag and choke.
Rod laughed. "Breath through your noise and relax your throat...I'm driving this bad boy all the way!"
Juan had chosen his moment to bust Zack's cherry. It was if he was synchronized with Rod's cock. They both lunged forward, impaling poor Zack with their throbbing tools, and then, pausing for a moment to give him a chance to adjust, they pulled back and started to pile drive in a rhythm.
Zack's cock stayed hard and pointing straight up. It started to twitch and throb, and then it exploded shooting a single string of cum straight up several inches. The rest of the load simply bubbled up and ran down the sides of his cock and pooled at the base.
The surfers started cheering and clapping and one of them shouted. "Dude, that's the second time you fucked cum out of our Gringo!"
Juan held Zack's legs around his waist as he fucked the big jock silly. Seeing him cum without being touched was the catalyst to get him off. He rammed his cock fast and furious and began to shoot his wad.
Rod's dick throbbed deep in Zack's mouth and, after he shot his first load, he pulled back until only the head rested on Zack's tongue.
The volume was greater than he could handle by swallowing and the excess run out the corners of his mouth. The skinhead hopped up leaving strings of cum from his dick to Zack's mouth. Quickly another rider had taken his place forcing a thick cock in the waiting mouth.
Juan stood up and removed a cum filled rubber. "Gringo that fuck was dynamite...If you last through the night maybe I'll get another fuck." He tossed the used rubber on Zack's chest.
"Pussy Boy, going to be a hell of a lot more cum filled rubbers before this show over."
Another surfer slid under Zack's ass, wrapped his long legs around his waist and started fucking like a jack rabbit.
The bond fire was dieing down and the break of dawn was only a few hours away, Juan looked down at Zack as the last rider dismounted; he had pass out long before but the guys fucked him anyway.
They had lost count of how many times Zack took it up the ass, but judging from the used condoms stuck to his chest it must have been the entire gang.
Juan took the last shoots in his digital camera he had been using and then took the used cassette from the camcorder. He took one last look at the ravished jock, and chuckled to himself.
"Clean the sweet gringo up and give him a little rest; he'll be as good as new and ready to tackle his new position—cum dump to the stars!"
Beverly came walking up with her new lover hanging all over her; they stopped and looked down at Zack and broke into laughter; Bev's voice was booming for such a small person.
"I thought you guys would have cleaned him up by now."
Juan had a smug look. "You paid me to take the jock down and get pictures. You didn't pay me to make him all nice again...I Think you should wake his ass up and let him deal with the shit. Might as well let him know everything, how you set him up to get ass and mouth fucked all night...most important how you will blackmail him into making movies and doing the escort circuit."
Juan looked at Bruce, Beverley's new plaything, he was huge: obviously a weightlifter. Juan thought that he looked familiar.
"Dude probably has a porn flick or two...also looked like he'd go down if you pushed his head a little."
To be continued...