James And The Tiger Boy

I was fucking pissed off. How the fuck could we lose? We were the #1 ranked team all season. No one even came close to us. And we lost 2-3. I left the field before the rest of the team and headed to the locker room.

The whole school was there. I could see the mascot and the geeky science kid that was apparently his handler. At least our school had a real tiger as a mascot instead of that stupid bulldog costume that was currently jumping up and down and celebrating back on the field. I know that kid feeding the tiger, Chris I think, had tried to get the school board to ban live animals from games and pep rallies. I don't know if he liked animals or just hated sports. I heard a story once about him in junior high getting beat up in the locker room.

As I reached to grab the door handle, I looked toward him and could see the little fuck say, "Loser!" to me under his breath. Fuck that little bitch. I really wanted to run over there and punch him right in the mouth. My desire to just get the fuck away from the cheering on the field won out, and I opened the door and headed to the locker room to be alone for a minute and to get the hell out of there.

I went through the door, and that smell just hit me. You know the one; it's a combination sweat, piss, and testosterone. It always gets me pumped. It's the smell of jocks and sports and winning. We just lost, but I felt ready to take on the fucking world once that smell hit me.

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I walk down the short hall and turn toward the lockers. I turn and head toward the urinals to take a wicked piss. As I get ready to pull down my baseball pants, I hear someone in the locker room moving around. I turn to look, and Chris, the shit talking tiger handler is at a locker opening it. That just set me off. I turned around and stormed toward him.

"You mouthy little bitch! I'm a loser, huh? I'll show you how a loser kicks some pussy little bitch's ass!"

"Fuck you James," Chris then opened the locker and started pulling his shirt over his head.

His shirt was covering his head and he couldn't see me as I jumped right toward his skinny ass. I grabbed his arms while they were above his head and held him by the wrists up against the lockers. I am 6'3", 240, so I easily overpowered him. That was no surprise though, I lifted weight daily and was ripped for an 18 year old.

"Fuck me huh? " I squeezed his wrists really hard and punched him in the gut with my free hand. I could hear the wind being knocked out of him. He gasped to catch his breath.

"Did you really think you could talk like that to me and get away with it? You picked the wrong time to be a tough guy." This time I slapped him hard, making his head snap away from the force of my hand. This time his gasp sounded like he was going to cry. I let go of his wrists and let him fall to the floor. He was gasping for breath and snot was running out of his nose. I didn't know what was controlling me at this point, but as he laid there, I brought my leg back and let one of the hardest kicks I have made hit him squarely in the balls. This gasp made the other two sounds like cries of happiness. This was the sound of someone having the life kicked out of them.

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I stood there for a moment, looking down at the sniveling little fucker at my feet. He was whimpering, his eyes begging me not to hurt him again. As I stood there over him, I suddenly realized I hadn't been able to piss earlier and I had to piss. A deviant thought entered my head then, and I unbuckled the belt on my baseball uniform and opened the fly. I could feel the cool air of the locker room across my sweaty crotch as I pulled my jock to the side and aimed my cock toward the little bitch on the floor.

I have never been pee shy like a lot of guys, so I just let it go. I didn't really aim at first, but after a second of pissing near his feet, I aimed up along his body and completely soaked the front of the gray sweats he was wearing. At first, his eyes were closed and he didn't know what was happening. I took an extra few seconds to make sure he crotch was totally wet so that it looked like he pissed himself. As I moved up to his smooth shirtless upper body, his eyes opened. It took him a few seconds to figure out what was warm and wet on him as he looked at my cock unloading on his stomach and chest. As his eyes moved to meet mine, I could see him pleading for me to stop. All that did was make sure I aimed for his face and both of his eyes.

I stood there, letting my hands drop to my sides, as my piss flow finally slowed to a dribble and stopped. I let out a bit of a victorious laugh and realized that he wasn't crying or sobbing anymore. I also noticed that there was a tent in his sweats.

"What the fuck? Are you turned on by this? Do you get off on having the shit beat out of you and getting pissed on?" He moved his hands down to cover his crotch. He couldn't even do that right. Either his hands were small, or he was packing a big dick.

"Get the fuck up!" He made no effort to move.

"Get the fuck up, or I am going to kick you until you do," I said very calmly.

He slowly starts to move.

"Hurry the fuck up!"

He pulls himself up using the lockers as support. Now he is standing there with his head hanging down. My piss is dripping from his hair and running down his chest, across his nipples and down his stomach into the waistband of his tented and wet sweat pants.

"Look up at me. Are you a fag?"

He continues to look at the floor.

"Look at me when I talk to you. Are you a fag?"

`No." He barely mumbles. His gaze coming up toward me.

I looked him in the eye and said, "Strip."

He just stood there. My hand snapped from my side and hit him on the side of the face. Not as hard as the first time, but it sent him the message that he was going to do what I said. And without saying another word, he started kicking off his shoes. He then slowly took off his shoes. I could see he wore the same socks that I did. You know, the ankle socks that you can't see.

He peeled his socks off and then looked up at me. I could how much he hated this in his eyes, but he didn't try to disobey. He slid his fingers inside the waistband of his sweats and started lowering them to the cold cement floor.

He stood there and I sized him up. Chris had medium length brown hair that looked pretty good on him. His chest and stomach were pretty smooth, but his ass and legs were hairy. The tent in his sweats was caused by a pretty good sized cock that looked as hard as steel and pointed straight out.

"You either like looking at my cock or you like having your ass kicked. It's gonna be your lucky day. You are going to get your ass kicked and my cock."

I grabbed him by the hair and forced him to his knees, his face was inches from my cock. This was turning me on a little too as my cock started to get hard. I pulled his face into my crotch and buried his nose deep in the pouch of my jock. That smell had to be intense. This had been my lucky jock for our whole season and it has never been washed. It had 22 games of sweat in it, 62 intense practices worth of sweat, at least 84 pisses worth of dribbles, and at least 3 loads of cum. As I held his face there, I could hear him taking deep breaths and actually pushing his nose deeper into my crotch. The little queer was totally getting off on this. I looked down at his cock and could see precum leaking onto the floor.

I pulled his face away from my jock and told him to undress me. He didn't move fast enough, so I grabbed him by his hair and pulled straight up, picking him partially off the floor. I felt his hands reach for my pants and start pulling them down.

"Get my shoes off first."

He started unlacing my cleats and I could tell he was in love with my feet. He had them both unlaced and pulled off first the right then left. I saw a little smile on his face when he saw my socks. He knelt in front of me and looked up at me. I lifted my foot and moved it to his chest and pushed him back, flat on the floor. I held him down with my foot on his chest. I slid my foot up toward his face. I put the sole of my foot across his face and could hear him inhaling the aroma of my feet and my sweaty, damp socks.

This little fucker was totally into this shit, and I was getting into it now. My cock started to swell to is full 8 1/2 inches. I pulled my foot away from his face and rolled him onto his stomach with his ass sticking up. I moved my foot to his ass and stuck my toe in his ass crack and started rubbing up and down, rubbing across his hole. All of a sudden, he started moaning like crazy. When my toe got right by his hole, he pushed back and moaned louder. I started using my toe to fuck his ass.

My cock was hard as steel and all of a sudden, I wanted to fuck this little fucker.

I pulled my foot away and said, "Undress me."

He immediately stood up and got in front of me and started unbuttoning my jersey. I moved my arms back and let it drop to the floor. Next he started lifting my t-shirt over my head. While my arms were in the air, he buried his face in my left pit and started inhaling deeply and then licking. It felt strange and almost tickled.

"Clean them both."

He pulled my shirt the rest of the way off and started bathing both of my sweaty pits with his tongue. I am allergic to deodorant and never wear any, so he was getting pure jock sweat.

"That's good. Get my clothes of now."

He pulled my baseball pants down and I stepped out of them. I was standing there now in only my socks and jock. I thought he might cream himself with the sigh he let out when he looked up at me. I know I looked good., and I was wearing a sweaty jock and sweaty socks; two things that I could tell he loved.

"Now lick my balls."

He didn't waste any time at all. He was slurping on my sweaty balls. I found some candy for Chris. I pulled his face away from my balls by his hair. He looked up at me, begging for another taste. I grabbed the back of his head and pulled his head toward my cock and slammed my big, fat cock into the back of his throat. He gagged, but I didn't stop. I just started fucking his face like a mad man. I fucked his mouth hard and left it buried in his throat, listening to him gag each time. His eyes started to water and snot ran down his face. But he never tried to get away. I kept assaulting his mouth, and after about ten minutes of this, I could feel my balls tighten and my load started building. I started fucking harder and faster than ever. I grabbed the back of his head and buried my cock in his throat as my first spurt of cum rocketed from my cock and into his throat. I pulled back a little to fill his mouth. He didn't stop sucking. He took the next 6 spurts in his mouth and swallowed them down.

I pushed him off my cock and shot one last spurt of cum onto his cheek. My cock stayed rock hard and was glistening from his spit and my cum covering it.

"Please fuck me," he whispered.

My cock as still hard as steel and I really wanted to fuck him hard. I reached into an unlocked locker and pulled out someone's shower gel. I squirted some in my hand and he held his out for some too. As I coated my cock with the shower gel, he rubbed the gel on his hole to get ready for me.

"Get on your back on the bench."

He got on his back on the bench, with his legs up in the air. As I got behind him, he grabbed his knees and pulled them toward his chest. His boi pussy looked like it wanted to open up for my big, fat cock. I lined up my cock with his hole, and just slammed it all the way in. The look on his face was one of pure pain and total pleasure.

As my cock was fully buried to my pubes in his ass, I hear a voice say, "What the fuck?"

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written by jim
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