The smell. That’s what I remember best. Musty, heavy, moist - that’s the smell of the locker room of a professional football team. 



My only job was to watch and listen. I was a 19-year-old intern shadowing another wire reporter and was supposed to just watch and listen.



“Don't talk to anybody and don't touch anything,” he said as we walked in. 



“Yes, mom.” I thought. The scents were all around as I entered. It smelled like men. 



The security guard waved Mike, the seasoned reporter, right on in but he looked carefully at my press pass before letting me through. I had to rush to catch up to Mike who hadn't bothered to wait for me. He was a bit of a blowhard in the newsroom but as soon as we entered the sacred den he was all deference and respect. No wonder his articles read like a fawning review of a Texas women's auxiliary luncheon.



“Well fellas, you were tremendous out there today! Tell me, how is it you were more tremendous than last week?” That was about as hard hitting as his questions ever got. And I was supposed to learn from him. Right.



He didn't introduce me to anybody and nobody seemed to notice me. After the initial bluster of Mike's entrance, I began to look around and realized where I stood. There were men, big men, some of whom I'd seen on television for years, standing all around me. Most had their shirts off, others were in towels and quite a few stood there naked. They were bouncing around, talking excitedly - the adrenaline of the game had not yet left them. 



Watch and listen. I'm supposed to watch and listen. But, I couldn't concentrate on anything being said. All I could see were the naked men. I kept glancing down at their big swinging cocks as they slapped each other on the back and called out affirmations. “Way to go out there, meat!” “Hell of a play you made on that pass, Jonesy!”



I gripped my notebook tightly and tried not to stare as their pecs flexed before me and they bent over revealing their meaty, furry asses. I was surrounded and I could not touch. Maybe Mike knew what he was talking about after all when he told me not to touch anything. Slowly, I lowered my hands and placed my notebook over my crotch to try and conceal my swollen cock. It hurt. The blood was pumping so furiously through my cock that it hurt. “Fuck. Focus. Focus.” 



Mike broke me out of my stupor. “Kid, get over here!” 



I walked quickly to where he stood talking to a 6”5” black man with muscles in places I was pretty sure I didn't have.



“Kid, I've got a chance to talk to the QB for a minute but he's a pretty superstitious guy so you better stay here. Don't do anything! Just wait for me here.” I nodded. 



He left me standing there, still holding my notebook in front of my slowly fading hard-on. The athlete who he had been talking to looked down at me and reached out his hand. 



“Hey Kid. Don't let this throw you. We're all just guys here.” His hand was gargantuan. It engulfed mine, wrapping it so completely that my arm disappeared into his hand.



“Th-thanks,” I stuttered. 

He laughed a little.

“How old are you, kid.”



“Nineteen.” 



“Damn, you look about twelve!” I smiled and finally looked up from his giant hand still gripping mine, to his eyes. His face opened into a huge smile and his eyes twinkled as he laughed again. 



“I'll be damned,” was all he said and he let go of my hand. He turned, grabbed something from his locker and slammed it shut. 



“Follow me, kid.” He walked past me and I stood still for a moment. Maybe he's going to give me a pity interview, I thought. He turned a few steps away and looked at me again, still with that huge smile on his face. I looked confused, I know, but I finally followed him. He led me down a short hall, through a room with training tables on it and through another door.



I fumbled with my notebook as he shut the door behind me, trying to think of a question to ask him but I didn't even know who he was. I flipped through a few pages of my notebook and looked up at him again. “Um”



But he was now putting a cream on his right hand, well on his fingers actually. He looked up from his fingers and put his left hand on my shoulder, spinning me with ease so my back was to him. 



“Drop your pants, kid.” 

I looked back over my shoulder ready, I think, to protest but he now had a look of deep concentration. I looked back through the little window of the door I was facing and undid my pants. I dropped my khakis and underwear down to my knees. He pressed up against me and I could feel something massive press against the small of my back. His towel had dropped to the floor.



“Now, just relax.” Two fingers pressed into my ass and began to turn all around. Soon he added a third. “Nice. Nice and tight. Cherry, I bet.” He wasn't talking to me. He seemed to be speaking to himself or, maybe, someone who wasn't there. He pushed his thumb in my tight hole and spread his hands while twisting. I grimaced and resisted. 



“Shhhhhh. Now, now just relax. They'll only be there for a minute.” 



I didn't understand what he meant. His left arm was around my throat and face holding me tight against him. He pulled his fingers out suddenly and I heard a smacking sound that I didn't recognize at first. By the time I realized what the smacking sound was - that he was greasing his cock - he had put his huge head against my now slightly open hole.



“In it goes, slowly,” he said into my left ear, but again not really to me. 



His dick was fucking huge. I thought of how his hand had engulfed mine and could only imagine the size of his cock but I didn't have to imagine the feeling of his cock inside me. He pushed in farther; my ass clenched and resisted, and was seized. He pushed farther still and my ass repeated its resistance but finally succumbed. 



“I know it hurts, kid, but just relax. You've got a sweet, sweet hole and I know you need my big dick. You know we need each other right now.” 

I said nothing. But I knew he was right. I gave in. He heard the breath go out of me and laughed a little. 



“Yes. Yes. That's good.” 

He pushed all the way in me. I felt his cock head in my throat, it seemed. He pulled out most of the way and back in again. Each time he seemed to go deeper. 



“Yes, Yes.” He repeated. 

Soon he was fucking me hard, pumping me rhythmically, sensuously. His huge cock opened me wider and wider. I stared out the little window through the empty room and out into the hallway beyond. People passed now and then and I thought that at some point one of them would see. All they had to do was turn their head slightly and they'd see me getting my ass pounded. I could only take quick, shallow breaths like I was panting. And I was panting. I was panting and groaning, waiting to be bred by this stud. 



“Yes. Yes,” he said again. 

His cock head seemed to swell even bigger. He pounded more furiously and held my head in a death grip against him. I could only see out of my left eye now. His arm covered my right. I saw my mentor, Mike, pass by the outside hallway but that didn't distract me from the feeling of this man's cock pounding into me. I wanted this everyday, I thought. I want a huge man cock in my hole every day. I'd never had one and had pretended my thoughts of men's bodies away, had purged them with work and drink and bad drunken sex with college girls, but now, now I know I needed this feeling every day. All cocks could have me now. I was finished. I had succumbed. 



He moaned behind me. “Yes. Yes.” He stopped fucking for a second, just a second, and then resumed his pumping. 



“Yes. Yes,” but this time I was saying it. “Yes. Breed me,” I whispered. 



He pushed all the way up inside me. Something opened even deeper in me, like a hidden chamber inside my body just for his seed. I felt it. It shot hard at first and then drained from his cock. 



“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” His growl was primal, guttural as he pumped his juice into me. 



My body was coming alive inside, like it had been waiting for man-seed in order to come alive and become more than it had been. “Fill me up, please.” I begged.



He obliged. He pumped hard again now because more kept coming out of him. He fucked and fucked and I disappeared into him. Then it stopped. I became aware of the door and his arm covering my face. 



Neither of us said anything for a minute. He backed off slowly and the pain was intense, more it seemed than going in but I knew that wasn't true. I leaned against the door, my pants on the floor. My ass was wet and sticky. I could feel his juice dripping out of me. He wiped me with his towel and threw it on the floor. 



“You better find your boss, kid. He'll be looking for you.”



I nodded and finally turned to look at him as I pulled up my pants. His smile was bigger than me and it warmed me. I smiled back. 



“You'll be back, won't you kid?” 



“Yes,” I said.



“Good.”



I left to find Mike.