Sergeant Bull : Part 7

Bull could tell by the young jock’s shaking legs and barely contained grunts of pain that this was Derek’s first time getting fucked. That meant there was something special about the moment Bull appreciated and respected, a straight jock dude giving up his most private body part for his buddy and commanding officer. He leaned closer for a better look at the popping of Derek’s cherry. Once Finley was in, Bull licked the other sergeant’s hairy balls, tracing his tongue up the part of Finley’s bone still visible, all the way to the ring of stretched ass muscles that hid the rest.

“You okay?” Finley asked.

Derek nodded painfully, tears in his eyes. “Yes, Sir.”

“The boy’s tough,” Jeff said. “I want his soldier’s can next.”

Bull flashed the other veteran a lusty smirk. “Shit, don’t I get anything for driving in the winning run?”

Jeff nodded. “You get to fuck him once we loosen him up. Shit, Bull – after all, we’ve been the ones dying to get a bone in his butt for all these months. Until you get your turn -”

The team’s captain slid off the couch and joined Bull on the floor. They quickly undressed each other, shedding the male-smelling baseball uniforms, tossing shirts, pants, cleats, stirrups, sweat socks, and jocks into the swampy pile at their feet.

Jeff started with Bull’s toes and didn’t miss a spot. His warm, wet tongue licked the stink off Bull’s feet before moving up his legs. Then, with the same hunger he’d shown the rookie’s can, Jeff lapped at Bull’s shitter, employing the kind of skill all four of them usually showed to the cunts of their women. Bull choked up on Jeff’s hairy bone and opened wide. The salty taste of precome ignited on his lips.

With his dick bobbing in and out of Jeff’s mouth and the other ball jock’s trapped inside his, Bull tipped an eye toward the action taking place on the couch. Derek glided up and down on Sarge Finley’s tool. The sound of throaty grunts filled Jeff’s house, growing louder and meaner with each pump.

As if sensing Finley’s closeness, Jeff pushed Bull off his cock. “No, dude, not yet. I want to save my load for the Private’s hole.”

Bull licked his lips and met Jeff halfway for a sloppy kiss, then together they watched Finley empty both of his low-hanging balls up into the starting pitcher’s butt.

“Fuckin’ sweet,” Jeff moaned. His breath teased the load-plastered hairs around the ring of Derek’s pucker. Offering no further explanation, he pressed his face into Finley’s stale spunk for a taste of sperm-filled hole.

Derek squatted doggy-style with his head between Finley’s legs. The Sarge had ordered him to clean off the spent cock. Derek didn’t argue and now lapped the tang of his own butt from the hairy groin of the man who’d just fucked him.

Bull lined Jeff’s dong up and waited for the veteran ball jock to push in. Once Jeff’s fucking of the young pitcher commenced, Bull maneuvered his face between their legs and for the next five minutes, alternated between sucking the four fat nuts jiggling over his nostrils and rimming Derek’s hole while the team captain’s bone slid in and out of it.

He knew Jeff was getting close by the increasingly violent fuck-thrusts into Derek’s can. Bull settled down on the floor, focused on the action overhead, and waited. The wait wasn’t long. A few seconds later, Jeff howled a string of obscenities, pulled out, and a hail of hot, masculine juice rained down onto Bull’s face.

“My turn,” he growled, licking his lips.

The acrid stink of jock-dude feet, nuts, hole, and armpits filled the room. Bull sucked in a deep hit, spurred on by its potency. In preparation for the assault on Derek’s hole that would cap off an incredible night with three amazing guys, Bull watched the young pitcher lick the toes sticking out of Finley’s cast. Like the Sarge before him, Jeff’s spent cock was also given a tongue-bath. Both veterans sat winded and satisfied on the couch, one bare ass beside another to receive the Private’s servicing.

Bull leaned down for a taste of Derek’s hairy chute. Spunk oozed out of the asshole Finley and Jeff had already loosened, an image Bull couldn’t shake any more than his hunger for a taste of it. A few deep licks coated his tongue with the spunk from his new buddies’ nuts.

Unshaved mouth glistening, Bull pushed his cock into Derek’s butthole. It was like fucking warm pudding, tight and sloppy. Jeff slid to his knees and again buried his tongue up Bull’s can.

“I’m so fuckin’ glad you didn’t shower,” the team captain moaned, his muffled voice sending a wave of hot air between Bull’s butt cheeks.

Ten minutes later, Bull blasted the first of what would total four loads with the baseball jocks, mixing his ball-juice with that of his teammates.

He awoke at what he thought at first to be sunrise. Then Bull remembered they’d watched morning break during a four-man oral sex chain during which they’d all popped off in each other’s mouths.

“Shit,” he grumbled, pulling free of Finley’s arm at the edge of the bed. Jeff’s snores mingled with Derek’s, and the sour heaviness of stale beer and even staler man-sweat filled the room with a powerful reminder of what they’d shared together before passing out.

This had been good – damn good – but he knew it was time to move on. Bull picked his clothes out of the mess of dirty uniforms and cleats on the floor, found his way to the bathroom, and decided to take Jeff up on the offer of that promised hot shower.

By the time he emerged, the sun had set fully and a dry, warm night was in place. Hungry for a bite to eat and feeling totally stoked, he fished his keys out of the glass bowl and left the guys to sleep off the previous night’s hard work. They’d earned it – on and off the baseball field.

The warm desert night seemed full of promise. Donning his helmet and with a smile on his face, Bull mounted the Harley.

“Next stop,” he said, starting the ignition, “San Diego:”