Page 96 of His Hungry Wolf

“Are we going to do any more practices before the showcase?”

“No.”

“Are you mad at me?”

I turned to him. I was so sexually frustrated that I felt like any moment I could snap. But somehow I calmed myself, reined it all in and said, “Dick.” I thought it explained everything.

Every night after that was a nightmare. The man was torturing me. I was sure of it.

The only way I got through it was to relieve myself before we went to bed and then as soon as I got up. I wasn’t sure what he was doing. But he was hard every night before he fell asleep and sometimes for a while after that.

Needless to say, I was no longer sleeping as well as I used to. And it was definitely affecting my work. When the coach caught me napping in my office, he asked if something was going on. How did I explain to him that his favorite son was torturing me with his hard cock every night?

“You look like a mess. Pull yourself together,” he told me.

Didn’t he understand that this was me pulled together? He didn’t want to see me falling apart.

Mercifully, the player showcase was coming up quickly, and this would soon come to an end. As it approached, I often drifted off into elaborate sexual thoughts where Claude’s hard cock would destroy my usually lifeless body. And when the morning finally arrived, I was sure to leave something in the bathroom for him to find.

I couldn’t even pretend to sleep that night. So when he immediately returned from the bathroom holding the condom I had left, I was awake to see it.

“Now?” He asked, already hard.

“Tonight.”

“Are you sure? We could do it now.”

“We’ve waited this long.”

Claude pursed his lips in frustration. He then grabbed the bedroom door and nearly tore it off the wall. It was good to see that I hadn’t been the only one suffering all this time.

“Use it,” I told him, fragile from horniness.

He didn’t reply. But watching him at the showcase, he used it. The man was amazing.

In the 50-yard dash, he beat his personal best by two seconds. That’s huge.

Then when passing, there was nowhere on the field that was safe. He threw bomb after bomb, each landing precisely. The man was an animal out there. And spotting me in the stands when the showcase was done, he eyed me like prey.

I felt scared to go to him even as I ran. My heart pounded. My knees wobbled. And when I saw him, the blood drained from my face.

I wasn’t sure what happened next. All I knew was that my legs were around his waist and my back was against the wall. With his humongous hands cradling the back of my head, his tongue dug for mine.

I could barely see straight; it felt so good. And rushing to my car with my cock throbbing, we reached it just in time before he ripped off my pants and sank his cock into my hole.

“Ahh,” I screamed, needing more.

What were we doing? We were in the parking structure at a football stadium.

“Yes! Yes!” I yelled, not caring who heard.

Seeming to grow in size as he mounted me, Claude didn’t care either. The man fucked me like a rag doll. I could feel weeks of restraint pounded into me. He was merciless. I deserved it. And I loved every minute of it.

Somehow finding myself sprawled naked in a moving car, I became a dog in heat. Claude was driving. He was taking turns like a madman. He was speeding, but I couldn’t wait.

Crawling onto the floor, I pushed my head between his legs. I was going to kill us both. I knew that. But I needed his cock in my mouth. I had waited long enough.

Pulling it out of his unzipped pants, I pushed its mushrooming tip between my lips. The taste, the smell, it was everything I dreamed it would be. This was Claude’s cock, the center of all his power over me, and I had it.

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