Subject: breaking baker mayfield – 8 Disclaimer: This is a purely fictional story, but please do let me know if it does turn out to be non-fiction ;-P. i love to hear from all of you. xoxo – jasper proseinourdreams@ proseinourdreams.wordpress p.s. don’t forget to donate to fty/donate.html It all escalated so quickly. Baker was taking a piss at a rest stop urinal, and all of a sudden, sounds of a wet cock stroking in one of the stalls instantly hardened his six-inch, beer-can of a cock. The quarterback couldn’t remember just what happened next, but when he snapped back into consciousness, he found himself on his knees in that stall, getting his mouth and throat fucked by a short, fat cock. It could’ve only been minutes, if not seconds, before Baker felt that cock swell in his mouth. The next thing the jock registered was the stranger condescending patting his cum covered face before quickly zipping up and exiting the stall and bathroom, leaving Baker on his knees, bewildered, rock-hard, and smelling and tasting the pungent stink of stranger’s acrid, salty cum on his nose, tongue and lips. … The cute kid stumbling in early that morning was quite a sight. Spying from his bathroom stall, the man quietly watched the scruffy boy – obviously a straight jock or a frat boy, clad in a backward cap, hoody, grey sweatpants and sock-less in those Nike sliders – pull out his cock and unleashing heavy streams of straight boy piss into an urinal. Seeing those thick glutes underneath those sweats, the man began stroking his five-inch cock. The kid’s backside was quite a sight – broad back, muscular ass and legs… probably around six feet tall… but the man wanted more of his cute mug. Those lips, in particular. The longer the kid pissed, the harder the man stroked his cock. He spat on it. Rubbed it, pumped it. There was no way the kid couldn’t hear the obvious sounds of a man masturbating behind him. Watching the boy, the tell-tale signs came quickly… deep sighs… gasps… the flexing of those glorious glutes… rising ever so slightly onto those long toes in those sliders… standing there well after the piss stream has stopped. The man knew he had the kid as he watched the flustered jock look around nervously, surely to assure himself nobody else was coming into that bathroom. Seeing boy turn around, unveiling an impressive upward curving cock, thick as a beer can and glistening wet, nearly made the man cum right then. The man took a chance, pushing the unlocked stall door open towards the jock kid. Whispering loudly, “You want it, boy?” The frightened look on that scruffy, boyish face when he saw the door open… cute, hot, adorable… hungry… big watery eyes… tongue licking his lips… “Come to daddy… slow… crawl…” The man sat down on the toilet seat and waited to see if his gamble would pay off. The kid hesitantly pulled back his hood, and seemingly-reluctantly bursa evi olan escort turning his baseball cap backwards. As if in a trance, the jock suddenly dropped to his knees, then onto his hands. His watery eyes were never strayed from the man’s cock. The man could now smell the sex wreaking from every pore of this kid, of cum, sweat and ass and more – dirty and sweet – as he slowly crawled barefoot towards him, leaving behind those damn Nike sliders. Whatever hesitation the jock showed from the onset immediately dissipated as he crossed inside the stall. The kid slobbered all over his cock, licked it from root to stem, spat on it, pumped it furiously, before devouring it completely. Taking it deep down his throat again and again, so hard and fast the man – who wanted this opportunity of a lifetime to get blown by a closeted straight boy, clearly an athlete, to last as long as possible – couldn’t contain himself any longer and began skull fucking the gagging jock. The boy’s deep, masculine grunts and slobbers and gasps quickly turned into whimpers and pathetic moans when the man stood up, wrapping his pudgy fingers behind the kid’s sweaty neck and started fucking that open throat and mouth with no mercy. “Damn… damn… DAMN BOY!” The jock took everything. The kid was voracious. The man wanted all of him, his athletic, beefy body, his ass, his everything, but the man knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. “Look up, boy, look at daddy… yes, good boy, good boy… open… open… stick your tongue out, yes, good boy… good boy! TAKE IT BOY! TAKE IT! TAKE IT! TAKE IT!” Seeing those big, wet, brown eyes looking at him, those flushed cheeks, tongue out like a golden retriever puppy, that back arched so perfectly, that ass up in the air… the man came instantly. Ropes and ropes of cum, splattering all over the jock’s adorable face, nose, lips, tongue, baseball cap, hoody… everywhere. Without prompting, the whimpering boy began sucking the dripping cock dry, at first slowly, gingerly, then harder, faster, deeper… sheer desperation as the kid sucked that deflating, leaking cock… determined to revive it for a second round. More. More. More. “You’re something else, kid…” The man pulled out. Alert, hearing noises nearby. Reluctantly, he patted the jock’s cum-covered face as he stuffed his now flaccid cock back inside his jeans and quickly rushed out of the bathroom. … Baker wanted to cry. Slumped there on his knees, sitting back on his ankles – barefoot – in that dirty stall, next to the toilet… he was so hard. He tried wiping the cum off his face with his fingers as best he could, but he couldn’t help himself… licking one cum-covered finger, then the next, and next. He couldn’t believe what had just happened, how quickly it happened, how unfulfilled he was. He knew he wanted more, but how that man just left him there… alone. altıparmak escort Rock hard. His ass still filled with cum from the old man who’d brutally fucked and bred him an hour earlier. Baker knelt there, tasting the last drop of cum on his fingers and lips… not knowing what he was doing, he clasped one hand around his throat, choking himself, as the other reached behind, probing inside his boxers and sweats, feeling his lubey, cummy ass crack, finding his pulverized, swollen hole. He wanted it so badly. He wanted more… more than his fingers could offer. The deeper he shoved his two fingers in, then three, the harder he pounded his wet, cummy jock pussy, the harder he choked himself, the sweatier he got writhing on his own fingers, the closer he got to cumming like this, the more rapid his panting, the shallower his breaths, the louder his grunting became… Baker was so close. To just cum. To just get it over with. To cum. To get out of this rank bathroom. To drive home. To move to Cleveland. To never do any of this again. … Three loud, metallic bangs against the unlocked stall door shook Baker out of his depraved trance. Horrified, the quarterback remained on his knees, frozen in fear with his fingers deep in his ass and hand around his own neck, as he heard the creak of the stall door slowly opening behind him. “The hell you doing in here, kid?” A deep, brusque voice intoned authoritatively. “Hands up where I can see `em.” “…” Baker couldn’t move. He was trembling. Shaking. “HANDS. UP.” Baker’s boyish face was flushed crimson. It burned with embarrassment and shame. He dared not turn around. His knees hurt from the dirty concrete floor. “HANDS. UP. KID.” Another loud metallic bang against the frame of the stall. Baker distressingly pulled his cummy fingers and hand out of his sweats, slowly raising both shaking hands up in the air. “Turn around. Slowly. Kid. Don’t try anything funny now.” Baker winced as he tried to turn towards the man, grimacing at the potent smell of the old man’s cum on his fingers. He dared not look up, but he knew he saw the police badge and hairy arms and hands gripping a long police baton. “Are you a pervert, kid?” “… I… I…” “You like showing off like this in public?” The cop pointed his baton at the tented, precum-soaked wet patch on Baker’s grey sweatpants. With one swift stroke of the baton, the cop snapped down Baker’s sweats, revealing the jock’s glistening, leaking hard cock bouncing in the air. `(Ughn…)” Baker bit his lips from the devastating humiliation. It’s over. His career is over. His life is over. “You a prostitute, kid?” “No! No! I… I…” “Shut the fuck up, fucking pervert.” Another loud metallic bang of the baton against the stall frame. “You know what people do in these stalls, don’t you, kid?” “NO! I… I’ve never… been here before… today…” “Right… right, of bursa merkez escort course… Did you let that fat guy suck you off? The one who just took off?” “No… NO. OF course not…, sir…” “Did you suck HIM off, you little faggot?” “I… I… have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about… sir…” “Look at me when an officer’s talking to you, kid.” Baker felt the hard, cold baton underneath his chin, raising his head up to meet the steely gaze of the bearded cop. “Well, that guy told me there’s a cocksucker in here this early mornin’…” The cop gently tapped his baton against Baker’s flushed cheeks. “Are you the cocksucker?” “I… I…” Baker was hyperventilating. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He wanted to crawl into a hole a die, but he couldn’t stop looking at the cop’s crotch. Was there a twitch in those pants? Did the baton just caress my cheek? Am I leaking precum? “Suck it.” The cop grazed his black baton against Baker’s wet lips. The quarterback was so confused, so ashamed, so humiliated, so… horny. “Suck it.” “Please… please… sir… I…” “SUCK. IT.” Banging his baton against the stall wall, the cop raised Baker’s quivering chin with the stick once more. He knew the kid was crying. He knew the kid’s cock was raging hard. He knew the kid’s fingers were covered with another man’s cum. He knew the kid would do anything he’d ask. Baker hesitantly stuck out his tongue, licking the baton tip slowly, pathetically, reluctantly… still with his hands up in the air. “Oh come ON kid, you can do better than that.” More slobber. Licking more of the length of the stick. Taking it in his mouth. “There you go, son, come on… more… don’t make me spank you.” The cop noticed the kid’s cock jump at those words. “(UGHNN!)” Baker finally gave up fighting his urges. He swallowed as much of the thick baton as he could, sucking on it like it was that old man’s ginormous cock. Taking as much of it as he could, then licking the entire length of it, up and down. “Fucking faggot. Up. Put that pecker away. Those yours?” The cop pointed his saliva-covered baton to the Nike sliders strewn by the urinal. “Yes… yes… sir…” Baker could barely speak. His voice cracked as he stumbled to his feet while stuffing his still-hard cock into his boxers and sweats. “Put them back on, and face the wall.” Baker staggered towards thew urinal, slipping his large, bare feet into those sliders, and faced the wall. “Hands behind your back, kid.” “PLEASE! PLEASE DON’T!” Baker suddenly heard himself cry out, his voice hoarse. Shrieking. “Hands. Behind. Your. Back. Faggot.” Another thundering whack of the baton against the stall. Baker choked back tears as he felt the cold handcuffs clasp around his trembling wrists. It’s over. It’s all over. “You’re under arrest, kid, for indecent exposure and solicitation of prostitution. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?” To be continued… More ail