Taking Down The Quarterback

Mac is the quarterback for the school's football team. Or was I guess. We have just graduated. I was also on the football team, a linebacker. I've never liked Mac. He is popular, nice, and charming. Almost the opposite of me.

People respect or fear me. I'm a big, strong guy. Built like an ox my dad would say. But I am not nice, or charming. People think of me as a bully, and I don't mind that. I don't care about those people. I have my friends, they get me, everyone else can get fucked.

I'm not handsome like Mac. He could have any girl he wanted. I am gay, openly, but know that guys are more interested in my dominance than my looks. I am very dominant in the bedroom, pushy, rough. I like to get what I want, how I want it.

I am tall, over six and a half feet tall. My body is a mess of curly brown hair, covering a thick and strong chest. I am built more like a powerlifter than a field athlete. Mac is 18, but I am 19, having been held back a grade due to poor attendance and performance in my early years.

I never had much of a problem with Mac. We left each other alone. But as graduation loomed, so did the first major issue between us. We both got accepted into the same college. Him on a full football scholarship, me not so much. I would have to pay my own way.

It was a kick in the teeth. Sure he was good, but so was I. Why did he deserve this when I didn't? I would think about it most nights, my anger at him growing. Knowing we would have to be spending our college years in the same town, potentially in the same team.

In my mind, I formed a plan. It started innocuously. A fantasy. What I would do to Mac. To teach him a lesson in humility. This fantasy developed into something more concrete. Something I could act on.

I could barely believe what I was doing when I forged the letters. Inviting Mac and me to a month-long football training camp prior to our arrival at the college. It was believable, both of us were accomplished athletes. I even reached out and offered to drive us both to it, saving on travel costs.

He agreed. Unwittingly snaring himself in my trap. It is now the day before this supposed camp is meant to start. A day before we are both meant to be away for a month. One thing is for sure, Mac and I will become very close over the next month, even if football isn't involved.

I pull up to his place and beep the horn. Mac emerges, blond hair almost glowing in the sunlight. He jogs over, a tight T-shirt clinging to his muscular chest, loose shorts swinging with each step.

He jumps into my car, it's an old rusty hand-me-down from my dad. The atmosphere inside is fairly awkward as he tries to make small talk, I don't make it easy for him. Before we set off I tell him I need to grab something from mine. He doesn't object.

Pulling up at mine, I invite him in, telling him that it will be a while. He agrees reluctantly following me up the weed-stricken path to my home. I live with my dad, although he is never in, having to travel often for work. He is not here now.

We make our way to my room. It is messy, with dirty clothes scattered across the floor. I see him wrinkle his nose at the smell of it. I guess there must be a waft of musk and sweat. I spend most of my time here.

A double bed stands against the far wall, a couch in the center facing a tv. There is a desk, wardrobe, and set of drawers. Not much really. A second door leads to my ensuite bathroom.

I tell him to wait there as I grab some things from the bathroom. I exit, quickly stripping off my clothes, until I stand in just my boxers. Taking a moment to examine myself in the mirror, I admire how strong I look. This is going to be fun.

He's still trying to make small talk as I reenter the room. I can see he isn't quite paying attention, not immediately clocking that I have stripped down to just my boxers. After a moment or two, he glances my way, doing a double-take as he catches my bare, hairy chest and beefy thighs.

I smirk as I see he can't help but glance down at my covered crotch, the bulge of my considerable penis clearly visible, already hardening at the thought of what I am about to do. Mac quickly averts his eyes, turning away so as not to see my nakedness.

"You getting changed or something?" he asks, back still turned to me.

"Something like that," is my reply as I stalk up behind him, grabbing the jock by his collar and yanking him roughly backward onto my bed.

He yelps in confusion, his body splayed across the covers. I advance on him, throwing my body over his as he scrambles to get back up. Before he has a chance to adapt, I have him in an armlock, his chest pressed against the mattress as I grind my crotch against his ass.

"What the fuck! Get off me!" he cries out, writhing in my grip.

With unexpected strength, he bucks upwards, throwing me off balance and losing my grip on his arm. Scrambling to his feet, he tries to scurry to the door, but I am on him like lightning, wrapping my arms around his chest and heaving him back to the bed.

The next few minutes are a mad struggle as Mac fights me with every ounce of his being. He puts up a good fight, our bodies entwining on the bed as each person takes turns gaining the upper hand.

Ultimately, my strength wins out. I can feel Mac's struggle lessening, his breathing heavy and labored as exhaustion starts to take hold. He is wearing down. I feel no such fatigue, maneuvering him into a chokehold, holding him there until I feel the fight leaving his body.

Releasing him, I rise to my feet, grinning down at my conquered opponent. He lies still, chest heaving as he sucks in ragged breaths. I take a moment to savor his defeat, enjoying the fear in Mac's eyes.

The exhausted jock starts to turn, making one last feeble attempt to drag himself away. I pin him down with one foot, pushing him flat on his back. My cock strains in my underwear as I maneuver over his face, planting my legs on either side of his head as I kneel over him.

He cries in distress as he realizes my intention. The fabric of my underwear is wet with sweat, a by-product of our recent struggle, as it presses down over Mac's nose. Mac's cries are cut off, his face fully enveloped by my plump rump. Gyrating my hips slightly, I find a comfortable position, completely cutting off Mac's air supply with my ass.

Trying to fight back against this humiliation, Mac swings his arms at me. I catch them easily, pinning them below my knees with ease. He is completely helpless now, with nothing to do but pathetically flail his legs against the bed.

Settling in, I slowly grind my bottom down on the poor jock, loving the sensation of his muffled cries vibrating against my asshole. Every now and then I lift myself slightly, allowing the boy to suck in a few breaths from between my cheeks, before lowering myself back down again.

Taking my time, I reach down, gripping his T-shirt in my hands and ripping it in two. His chest glistens with sweat below me, smooth and muscled, perfect in every way. Leaning forward, I snag his legs, drawing them close to remove his socks. His shorts are next, sliding off in one smooth motion.

All that is left is Mac's underwear. Today, he had chosen to wear a nice pair of tight, white boxers. Eyeing the bulge of his cock, I smooth my hand over his crotch, squeezing and pressing, trying to coax some life into his member. Before long, I feel it start to harden.

"You really love this, don't you slut." I tease, massaging Mac's erection through his underwear.

Unable to control my lust, I rip the fabric of his pants in two, revealing Mac's modestly sized dick. The guy clearly takes care of himself, with a light smattering of pubic hair framing his shaft. With one hand, I start jerking him off, the other rubbing my own straining bulge.

After a few minutes, I can tell he is close. His hips flex with my strokes, spasming involuntarily as I bring him to the edge. I must say, I didn't expect it to be this easy. Maybe there is a part of Mac that enjoys this.

Every time I feel he is close, I slow down, keeping him on the edge of orgasm for as long as I want. After a while, I feel his involuntary desperation reaching a peak, his need to cum becoming greater than his discomfort below my ass.

Why should he have all the fun? I think to myself. Now that I have seen him fully nake, it is time for me to return the favor. Rising off his face, I pull my boxers down, slipping them off my legs completely.

Mac is still pinned below me, his arms trapped under my knees. He can barely object as I hover my bare ass over his face. The thick hair covering my chest continues to my crotch, covering my asshole in a blanket of tight brown curls.

Nestling back down, I cut off his breathing again, loving the weak struggles he makes to stop me. Now every time I grant him air, I can feel his breath, hot against my asshole. It feels incredible. Leaning forward, I grab his balls in my fist, squeezing and twisting until I feel him squeal in pain.

"Start licking slut. This will only get worse if you fight it." My command is succinct and to the point. It doesn't take much more encouragement for my captive jock to hesitantly poke his tongue out, lapping it against my sweaty hole. With his cooperation, I relax my grip on his sack.

The next ten minutes or so are filled with the wet sounds of my ass riding Mac's face. With a little bit of direction, I have the guy rimming me like a pro, the threat of further torture enough to keep him in line. He is no longer fighting, giving in to my superior strength as his body lies limp on the bed.

His tongue feels incredible as it explores my anus, flicking and lapping as instructed. I am in heaven, hydrating my hips against Mac's face, squeezing my own cock as I enjoy his service of my asshole.

My need is now intense, his mouth feels so good against my hole. Leaning forward, I lift my hips, allowing Mac to gasp in fresh air for the first time in a quarter of an hour. His relief is short-lived. Reaching down, I guide my erection against his lips, before sinking my crotch back against his face.

Bottoming out in one smooth motion, I feel his nose press against my balls, his lips quivering around my shaft, his throat spasming as he gags and chokes. I am fairly well endowed. All eight and a half inches of my manhood is buried within Mac's throat, his head still trapped between my thighs.

"Don't you dare bite me slut." I warn, hands once again gripping his balls.

I settle like this for 10 seconds or so, my body now laid over his. Mac's renewed struggles quickly die down, his whole being focused on not choking on my meat that is lodged within his throat. Slowly, I lift my hips, pulling out just enough to allow my captive to just about breathe around my shaft. He gasps in air as I feel spittle coating my crotch.

"It's ok, we are going to do this deep and slow." I coo, slowly sinking my cock back home again.

"Your mouth feels incredible, you have a real talent for this. A natural cocksucker." I tease.

We continue like this, long deep strokes downward, pushing Mac to swallow my entire length, forcing him to hold his breath. Each time I retreat, he gulps in air around my cock, drool spilling down his face. We must have gone for another 10 minutes or so.

I can feel that I am close, my climax starting to build. Picking up the pace, I start humping against Mac's helpless face. The bed creaks as my hips bounce up and down, slamming against my victim's head as my cock drives in and out of his throat. He gurgles and chokes at the increase in speed, struggling to catch his breath at the new pace.

"It's ok, not long now. Don't pass out on me, you are doing great." I tease with mock encouragement, my cock pumping in and out of Mac's throat with increasing speed.

This is it. I groan as waves of euphoria crash through me. My hips buckle and I sink my weight against Mac's face. Cock spasming, I pump my load straight down the jock's throat as he gags around it.

I sit in post-orgasm bliss for a few moments, enjoying the rush of release. It is the gurgling struggle below me that brings me back, makes me realize the poor guy is still unable to breathe.

Twisting off of my conquered prize, I jump off the bed, grabbing a bottle of water to refresh myself. Mac lays for a moment in a daze, his face glistening with sweat and drool. There is a wet patch on the bed, a halo of fluids that surrounds the jock's head. The sight makes my spent cock twitch again.

Slowly, Mac tries to drag himself off the bed, his strength completely gone. He crawls to the door, reaching up with a trembling hand to open it. I take my time making my way to him, pressing a foot against the door to hold it closed.

"Where do you think you are going slut?" I ask, leering down on my defeated quarry.

"Please, just let me go," is Mac's choked answer, tears welling in his eyes.

"We are not even close to done," I reply.