“A New Coaching Position” Part 3 of 5

I knocked out the van driver and his escort that night, and stole their goggles. They did more than limit my sight, I also discovered that they had earplugs attached as well. Before my movements could be detected, I snuck into the theater, not at all ready for what I would find in there. The film playing, well, it wasn’t really a film, so much as a series of images flashing too fast for anyone to make out well, and the earplugs prevented me from hearing much of anything at all, and my team, of fuck, my team–what had I done?

They were fat–just fucking enormous. All of them had grown out of their clothes, and were in the midst of an orgy–the stink of sex and sweat and food and cum and body odor in the room was nearly overwhelming, and I did my best to keep from retching, then came the voice.

“Hello Mr. Finney, I was wondering when that conscience of yours would get the better of you. Well, no matter, a coach belongs with his team, right? And with his son, of course.”

My stomach dropped, and looking over in terror, I saw my son on his hands and knees, Carl, the team captain, ramming his fist up his hole while he squealed, and I knew I had come too late.

Through the earplugs, I could just sense a change in whatever soundtrack was accompanying the movie, and all of the men turned towards me, grinning. “Now, how about it boys? Your coach is here to see you–don’t you want to welcome him? Please him? But leave his goggles on, I want him to know it’s happening.”

They pinned me down before I could get away, and dang, I think the entire team sucked my cock that night. Men came in when they saw I wasn’t cooperating, and gave me some drug that gave me a hardon that lasted for hours, before they finally dragged me away, exhausted.

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