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Chapter Two - What Goes On In The Office...

It was the dog days of summer, and this day was no exception. It would go on to set a new record which would keep its place for years to come. It was a day most people would spend indoors, in the shade or by the pool, but for as the football team, it was the last day of tryouts and practice. Furs and scales of every shape and size did the exercises out on the hundred-yard field as they were observed by three coaches standing under a pop-up canopy.

In the middle stood a stocky rottweiler by the name of Coach Collins. He panted heavily from the sweltering heat as the tight polo shirt he wore clung to his back. Despite being in the shade, the humidity in the air made his body sweat profusely, trying to cool off his black and tan-furred body. Beside him stood his assistants, Coach Williams and Coach Bjorn, a puma and a polar bear respectively. Coach Williams fanned himself with his wooden clipboard that listed each prospective recruit and returning veteran. Small scribbles and notes decorated the page as it waved with the rigid board. Coach Bjorn stood calmly, his burly white furred arms crossed as he stared out across the field, watching like a hawk. His own clipboard was held fast against his massive gut that barely poked beneath his shirt. Coach Collins wasn't sure how the heavily furred bear looked so calm and unnerved by the impossible heat. He turned his head, adjusting his black and orange cap to keep an eye out on the studs out on the field.

He had been stubborn when some of the players complained about the heat, saying it was dangerous being out in the sun on a day like this. But the rottie had to remind them that the first week of practice was always the hardest and that it was part of the preseason heat acclimation so their bodies could get used to the conditions and physiological demands they would need to endure for the rest of the season. He knew many of the recruits would likely drop after that day, but he was determined to make sure not a single one of his boys dropped from heat stroke on the field.

A lanky ferret named Winston Bradley came running back up to the pop-up, rushing to get more water cups back out to the football team. Bradley was the football team's waterboy, a sweet and passionate team player, and even though he wasn't as big and muscular as his colleagues, nearly every one of them treated him with respect. During games, he was always there on the sidelines cheering them on, or handing them water bottles full of refreshing electrolytes, and patting their backs when they were swapped out for replacements. But throughout practice, he hurried to fill his tray with new plastic cups, which were stacked on a fold-out table with several 5-gallon heavy-duty coolers.

Just as the ferret arrived, he took off as fast as his little legs could go, happy to be back out with the gorgeous and ripped jocks on the field. He passed out drinks to the sweaty studs, who thanked him as they poured the contents into their mouths, though their helmets made guzzling the drink difficult. Spilled liquid drenched their already damp practice jersey and Bradley smiled shyly at them, ogling their masculine chests before he rushed off to quench the rest of the team's thirst with a small wiggle in the twink's hips.

Coach Collins watched the small ferret with amused interest, noticing he had garnered the attention of a few of his boys. A few of the jocks that played at the front line of scrimmage snickered as Jason Donahue, a hulking silverback gorilla nudged his buddy Jett Malloy, a black and white malamute. He made a crude gesture with his entire fist widening the small ring made by his index and thumb followed by most of his thick furry forearm, as if to suggest he was the size of a bowling pin. Coach Collins knew that the gorilla definitely was not that thick, nor that long, but it was no secret the waterboy had gained somewhat of a reputation as the jock's cumrag during the previous season. Malloy just rolled his eyes at the gorilla's suggestion, chuckling at his friend's antics, but couldn't help imagining something that big going into the ferret that small.

The rottweiler paid them no heed as he switched his attention to some of his other boys, watching them help the recruits out with a few exercises. Chet Stone, a tank of a rhino and Nick Sanchez, an orange tiger with a white belly and black stripes stood in front of a small group which included Nathan Poleski, a handsome and muscular red husky Coach Collins had got to know very quickly on the first day. Coach Collins kept his eyes on the muscle-bound tiger, watching the jock's biceps bulge under his practice uniform and the way his ass bounced when he moved. He was proud of how far Sanchez had grown in the past year. He'd stepped up to being a real team player and had been close to being made team captain for the upcoming session. Even though the title had gone to Mr. Popular himself, Leon Richards, the quarterback, the tiger easily surpassed the lion in skill on the field. Sanchez always volunteered to fill in any role the coaches needed on the field: offense, defense or special teams, as well as any position Coach Collins wanted in his office.

Coach Collins licked his chops, drooling at the sight of the impressive feline. Sanchez hadn't been lazy during the off-season, and the tiger had opted to keep his beautiful orange fur short, his muscles easily visible for his coach to admire. He felt himself stir within his shorts, growling gruffly under his breath. He wanted to see Sanchez in his office immediately after practice.

"Sanchez!" He barked to get the tiger's attention and beckoned him over with his paw.

The jock came jogging up, sweat dripping off his whiskers. He smiled at the coach and paused just outside of the canopy, paws on his wide hips, panting and looking quite happy to be back for another year. "H-hey coach!" Sanchez said between breaths, his eyes drinking in the view of the thick-chested coach and the drool-worthy bulge between his legs. "Glad to be back on the field, I've been bored all summer waiting to come back."

"You're doing a great job out there," Coach Collins praised as he caught a whiff of the tiger's musk. His sheath chubbed up instantly. "If you don't have plans after practice, I would like you to report to my office so we can discuss possible positions for you to play this season."

The tiger's never fading smile grew bigger, his eyes lighting up at the coach's proposition and felt himself beginning to tent. He quickly composed himself and nodded. "I have a few errands that I can put off until afterward. I'll see you in thirty!"

Sanchez turned to go back to the group he'd been with, his striped tail flicked as his ass bounced with every step he took. Coach Collins was glad his sweaty back was to his assistants so they couldn't see the rottweiler's pointed tip tent his shorts. The rest of their warm-up and practice ended with a brief pep talk from Coach Collins who dismissed the football team from the field to head for the lockers to clean up.

Coach Collins brought up the rear of the team, walking behind a white-tailed buck, a black wolf and rhino. He found himself staring perhaps a little too long at the three studs in front of him. Their firm well-rounded rumps just within reach, teasing him to reach out and squeeze those lovely mounds of ass that were made to be spread open and left gaping. His panting only grew hotter, joining the rest of the team as they trudged through the cooled tunnel that lead to the locker room.

Once he was able to make a clear shot to his office, the sweating rottweiler opened the door and much to his delight, found Sanchez sitting legs crossed on his desk, with his striped tail swishing behind him, already stripped down to nothing but his sweat soaked jockstrap. Coach Collins locked the door behind him, curious to find out if the feline had slipped in undetected. Crossing the room, he pushed his muscle gut against the smoothly chiseled abs of the jock and planted his lips right on the tiger's. Sanchez made no protest as he kissed his coach, purring loudly as he felt the fat bulge push against his lower stomach. As he tilted his head, they locking muzzles and the rottweiler's long drooling tongue parted the tiger's sharp teeth to invaded his maw.

Sanchez moaned into the rottweiler's muzzle, the sounds coming from his throat muffled by the canine's wet muscle explored every inch it could reach. His cock sprung to life instantly, pulsing inside his dirty jockstrap and pre soaking in with the tiger's sweat. He had lost count of how many days it'd been since he was alone with the older male, but his body constantly reminded him how much he craved the rottweiler's fat knot inside him.

Coach Collins broke the kiss, leaving swapped spit dangling between their panting muzzles as he looked down at the handsome tiger in heated lust. "Get me naked Nick." He gave the order curtly, not wanting to waste any more time. He had an eager slut in his office and would make the most of every moment.

The rottie didn't give him much room to stand up off the desk, their sweat covered bodies pressed together. Sanchez stood just an inch shorter than the canine, their open muzzles mere centimeters apart, panting and taking in each other's heavy breathing. The tiger reached down and tugged Coach Collins's wet polo off his body, the manly smell filled his lungs and he wanted to lick every inch of the rottweiler clean.

"Oooh fuck..." Coach Collins groaned as Sanchez's head dipped down and began to lick his exposed armpit, feeling a tingling sensation as the tiger dragged his raspy tongue over his ripe area. He kept his arm up, flexing it as he brought his other arm around the tiger's back and held his head, rubbing it as he spoke encouragingly to the musk slut. Sanchez purred deeply as he groomed his coach, making sure he didn't miss a single inch of fur or bead of sweat. His whiskers drooped as the fur on his face seemed to absorb the rottweiler's perspiration, marinating in the fuzzy wonderland. Once he was finished cleaning the armpit, his kept his tongue pressed against his coach's body as he maneuvered to his well-formed pectorals. A slick trail of saliva was left in its wake, cooling the rottweiler's short fur as he reached the first stiff nub of his nipples, teasing it at first with his teeth before suckling on them playfully. He got a chest-rumbling grunt of approval from the coach, feeling the paw on the back of his head grip tighter. Sanchez lifted a paw up and fondled Coach Collins's package, stroking over the tent before he yanked the shorts down to the rottie's ankles to stroke the plump and dripping hunk of meat.

His mouth watered to get a taste of it, but he was still required to finish cleaning Coach Collins's other armpit. He dove in, his tongue lashing as the rottie growled and held him in place, his lifted arm squeezing the back of the jock's head and trapped him in the damp forest of armpit fur. Sanchez half expected this and worked harder to please his superior. Fresh air was quickly escaping the tiger as Coach Collins's kept the jock's face under his arm, feeling sharp intakes of air as Sanchez huffed his scent.

"You love being my dirty little musk slut, don't you, Sanchez?" Coach Collins murmured out loud as the tiger's tail flicked and his body shook from a lack of oxygen. "Finished with my armpits?"

He felt a quick nod under his arm and released the tiger who collapsed onto his knees in front of him. Sanchez looked up with fluttering eyelids, his eyes looking glossed over as he breathed in deeply. The smell of the naked rottweiler was everywhere in the room, and it overloaded his senses.

"Good, cause there's still more areas that need to be cleaned," Coach Collins stepped forward, his tennis ball sized nuts bounced and rested on top of the tiger's muzzle. "Get in there slut and don't stop until every drop is in your stomach."

If he thought the coach's armpits were ripe for grooming, he was in for a real treat as the coach's sweaty ballsack rubbed the older man's scent all over the tiger's face. Obediently, Sanchez began to lick, dragging his tongue all along the male's inner thigh, collecting the salty fluid in his maw and swallowing the ball sweat. Coach Collins's watched Sanchez below his cock, the pointed tip oozing precum on the tiger's forehead as the rough tongue worked its way around every nook and cranny. Collins let out a blissful sigh as the tiger took each nut individually into his muzzle, suckling all he could until all that remained was his saliva. Coach Collins pulled the thirsty slut's head out from beneath his groin and turned around, pulling Sanchez's face against his soft-furred rump.

"Spread 'em and lick my ass until it glistens, slut," Coach Collins ordered, his nub tail perked to show off his tight damp tailhole and quite possibly the most sweaty part of his entire body.

Sanchez grabbed two pawfuls of meaty rottie ass, the big muscular cheeks flexed before the handsome tiger spread them apart, his claws extending to squeeze them as he buried his face between them. His nose pressed under the wagging stump of a tail while his tongue tip tickled the wrinkled flesh underneath. The coach's masculine aroma under his tail reminded Sanchez of the football field after a rainfall: deep and earthy with the slightest hint of musk.

Collins let out a loud moan. His paws gripped his desk and dug his short claws into the wood. He pushed that thick rump back into the stud's face and tensed as the feline's tongue prodded and probed it's way against the resisting pucker. The tight ring finally parted for Sanchez's relentless assault with his muscular wet organ, the tiger purring loudly as he got a taste of the rottie's tight insides, feeling the hot anal muscles clench around his tongue, reeling it deeper between his ass cheeks. Sharp intakes of air tickled the base of the coach's sensitive nub, wagging it over the tiger's nose as the tongue worked its way around the coach's fleshy walls and occasionally teasing his prostate. Every time the obedient musk slut's rough tongue pressed against the extremely sensitive gland inside the rottie, the canine's cock reacted and coated the front of his desk with pre, the long streaks of clear fluid oozed down the wood.

His tailhole quivered and clenched, keeping Sanchez trapped under his stub while the stocky canine groaned in undeniable pleasure. He didn't want the tiger to stop, but his legs were getting shaky and he still needed to pump his load into that eager stud's tailhole. He reached back and gripped the tiger by the scruff of his neck and pulled him back from his ass. He could feel the excessive saliva run down his taint as he yanked Sanchez to his feet and threw him over his desk. The tiger grunted as his broad back slammed down on the top of the desk. He was caught off guard by how strong the older male was. Seeing those black furred biceps flex, able to lift the massive cornerback off his feet and bring him down aroused Sanchez like no other. He mewled like a kitten, his legs spread out as his thick human-like shaft stretched within the limits of his jockstrap pouch, curved and followed along the crest of his inguinal ligament, oozing precum inside the fabric.

"Oooh fuck me Coach!" Sanchez begged, his hands held up to muscular chest, the jock's muscles tensed and covered with sweat. His tail swished and swiped along the front of the desk, smearing the coach's precum over the wood as Coach Collins pulled out a bottle of lube, though he was certain his cock was slick enough with his pre alone.

"Spread your cheeks and show me how badly you want this slut," Coach Collins smirked as he applied a generous amount of lubricant to his thick fingers, watching the tiger reach down and spread his muscular rump with his paws, exposing his sweaty tailhole, the tight sphincter puckered with need. The rottweiler growled to himself, he just wanted to give in to his carnal lust and slam into that stud's ass and take what was his.

"Pluh... please Coach..." the tiger whimpered, looking so meek and on his back, the expression on his face just tugged at Coach Collins's heart. He didn't want to disappoint his players, especially when they asked so nicely, so he gave the jockslut exactly what he wanted. He pushed two digits against the tiger's tight ring, the tiger instantly tensed, his balls pulling up into the pouch of the jockstrap as his body reacted to the sudden invasion to his rear end.

"Aaah! Coach!" the tiger cried out as his claws extended, digging into his firm rump as Coach Collins let the blunt nail of his middle finger push against the tiger's prostate. The tiger's back door clamped down on the two fingers and elicited a loud mew from the cornerback as the wet spot in his jockstrap grew bigger. Coach loved how the submissive tiger quivered and wriggled on just two of his fingers, as if all those days of hard work and sweat meant nothing, and the muscle-bound jock was but a plaything to the coach.

Coach Collins smirked to himself as he continued to toy with the tiger's ass, amused by how Sanchez's snug fleshy walls began to loosen up with the familiar feeling of those fingers inside him again. "What's wrong Nick? Don't get enough cock in your tight pussy during the off-season? I bet you could throw a big party at that fancy house you live in and get every boy on the team to fuck your whore ass."

Sanchez moaned out loud and his cock twitched and shot precum at that very moment, either because Coach Collins inserted an additional finger inside him and pressed against the tiger's prostate, or at the thought of being treated in such a way by his teammates.

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that you big ass slut. Speak up! My hearing isn't as good as it used to be," the rottweiler teased, knowing just how needy he was making Sanchez just by talking dirty.

"N-no sir," the tiger managed to gasp out, trying to sit up, his well-formed abdominals folding over each other as he wanted to look his coach in the eyes. "I-I didn't do anything with anyone. I just want you. I want you to fuck me... I need you to ram your fucking dick inside me now."

That was consensual enough for the rottweiler, and he figured the tiger would stretch out to accommodate the rest of his cock. He pulled his fingers out, grabbed the back of the jockslut's knees, and brought his drippy tip with aimed precision to the tiger's slightly gaping tailhole. Coach Collins pushed his massive hips forward, hilting the jock in one swift motion, feeling the ring stretch open and the tiger's anal muscles clasp around the fat girth that filled the void. Once he was satisfied and his heavy balls pressed against the striped rump of the tiger, he pulled back and then slammed back in, hearing the slap of flesh against flesh over the sound of Sanchez's whorish moans. His desk shuddered and screeched loudly as it moved a few inches with each thrust into the slut.

Sanchez's eyes rolled back into his head as the middle-aged canine ravaged his ass. The sensations overwhelmed him as the thick cock slammed into his prostate repeatedly. Although he was fucked with no quarter, he felt more pleasure than stinging pain. His tail lashed about viciously as blissful tingles shot up his arched spine. His cock throbbed to no end, the head of it swollen and pushing precum through the soaked jockstrap fabric and onto his defined stomach. His claws let go of his own ass, which he had worked so hard to get where it was, to grab the coach's meaty cheeks and pull the rottie deeper inside him.

Coach Collins grinned wickedly as he felt Sanchez's massive paws hold his cheeks. He felt the jock's strength surge as the tiger's arms pulled him deeper into the tiger's snug ass. The slut moaned in pure ecstasy as he was fucked mercilessly by the Coach's thick cock he loved so much. Slick, slurping sounds filled the room as Coach Collins naturally lubricated the jock's inner walls, each thrust stretching him out wider to accept the impending knot. The fat flesh swelled up as it pushed against the stretched and battered ring, threatening to tie the poor kitty.

Sanchez yelped and mewed loudly as he felt the bulbous knot push in and slip back out with a squelching pop every time it passed by his quivering ring. An ear-splitting roar could be heard echoing off the walls of the small office space as the tiger's orgasm hit. Even though the room was soundproof, Coach Collins was certain any jocks in the nearby vicinity would have heard it. He watched in amusement as the stud's cock flexed in the constraining pouch of his used jockstrap. The load refused to be trapped inside, as it began to shoot forcibly through the fabric and across his abs. Not wanting to be left out, Coach Collins's gave a final shove against the tiger's clenching ass, feeling the slut stretch and then clamp down hard over his knot before the rottweiler emptied his balls inside the needy bitch hole.

Satiated, Sanchez purred as he felt the surge of warmth fill his bowels. His paw rested on the slight bump near his abs, as if he could feel Coach Collins's throbbing cock head as it filled him with the canine's hot load while knowing every single drop was trapped by that pulsating bulbous flesh. He lay back on the desk, his chest heaving with exertion. His workouts were never this intense... Sanchez contemplated stepping up his game with a buddy. He smiled to himself at the idea and closed his eyes as they waited for the knot to deflate so that Coach could pull free from his sloppy hole. . Neither noticed the slightly ajar door and the red flash of a camcorder capturing every second of the debauchery that had just occurred

Winston Bradley was down on his knees behind the door. The weasel furiously stroking his aching member between his legs, while watching the small screen of his camcorder in his other paw. His mind was spinning as he watched the virile rottweiler fuck the studly tiger, something he often fantasized happening to himself.. The angle so wonderfully captured every powerful thrust of Coach Collins's thick and muscular thighs colliding into Sanchez's well-toned rump. The wet sound of the fat juicy cock slurping loudly as it pistoned in and out of the tight tailhole was also kept in tact.. Their performance would not go unappreciated by the voyeuristic ferret.

He had never had a chance to do anything with Coach Collins, but he had heard rumors of how dirty the old dog was from the other players on the team when he was getting fucked by them. He just had to investigate himself. Not disappointed, he collected himself and the camcorder after slinking away and silently closing the door.

Once he was back home, Bradley saved the precious recording to his computer, the hard drive almost full of his exploits in the locker room. Hundreds of recordings and photos of the other coaches and over half of the sports teams were stored inside the folder. Most of them had no idea of the ferret's nefarious deeds. The small ferret was easy to slip around the locker room undetected, peeking around the corners of the orange lockers, looking for any of the studly jocks that may been lingering after showering. He would get lucky some days, catching two hunks kissing privately between open lockers doors or a curious one looking at a teammate's ass. He'd snap a picture or two for his private collection. He even had a picture of Coach Bjorn stuffing his cock into a bent over jock's face while aggressively fingering their ass. Who would have thought that the coaches on the football team were such dirty old men? Bradley figured they might come in handy, especially when he was feeling handsy. His computer alerted him that the transfer of his newest addition to his collection was complete and opened it, hearing Coach Collins's gruff voice talking down to Nick Sanchez. Bradley licked his lips and kicked off his pants as the tiger began to lick the rottie's armpits. This was now his most favorite video in the whole world.