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Chapter Five - Heat of the Moment

Coach Collins was doing his best to finish all of the remaining paperwork before the weekend. Finally distraction-free, he sat down at his desk when there was a soft knock on his open office door. The Rottweiler glanced up to see Sean Underwood, a rather handsome looking white-tailed buck, standing in the doorway. The young buck had a mighty impressive pair of antlers on his head that stuck out of his helmet like a sore thumb on the field, which usually resulted in him getting pulled down to the green turf during practice and games. They also so happened to be perfect for holding onto while plowing the deer's tight little ass, which was what the coach did exactly two minutes later.

Underwood moaned beneath the Rottweiler as the black and tan canine slammed his hips into him. He cried out when Coach's fat knot popped inside and made the buck's cream-colored tail flit up as he was filled to the brim with his coach's thick seed. There was nowhere else for it to go but deeper inside him. The rottie's thick knot pulsed as the deer's stretched sphincter clamped tight, making sure not a single drop escaped.

With a bit of time on their hands now that Underwood was knotted, all he could do was stay put bent over the desk while the Rottweiler's gut rested on his backside. He finished some more paperwork in the meantime as they both waited for the knot to eventually deflate. Then the buck could go on his merry way of out of Coach's office and prance back home, pleased to have been of assistance to his coach.

A good thirty minutes after Coach's powerful climaxed ebbed, the exhausted cervine groaned as the knot--which he had grown quite fond of--slipped free, leaving his sloppy hole wide open. Rottweiler cum dribbled down his taint and dripped off his balls. His ass ached for something to fill the gaping void. Without warning, Coach Collins grabbed Underwood by the antlers, spun him around and pulled him down to his knees in front of his semi-erect cock. The young buck, with the tip of his nose nearly touching the head of the Rottweiler's cock, couldn't help but inhale the mixed scents of cum and his own studly ass. With his grip firm on the buck's antlers, it was a simple task to cram his fat, messy length into the moaning buck's muzzle. Coach gave Underwood no reprieve until his length was spit-shined and polished clean.

"C-Coach..." Underwood whimpered and looked up with pleading eyes when the Rottweiler withdrew from his muzzle. His hand was hooked under his nuts, four of his fingers trying to keep the cum from leaking out of his ass. "D-do you have anything to help?" He pleaded, pulling his messy fingers out and holding them up for Collins to see his attempt to stem the flood.

The Rottweiler couldn't help but laugh and opened the top right drawer of his desk, handing the stud a buttplug that didn't quite match the coach's knot for size. The buck hastily pushed the tip of the cone-shaped latex toy against his leaking hole, gasping softly as it slipped inside with relative ease. His fleshy walls clenched around the base, firmly securing the plug in his wrinkly, loosened tail hole.

"I'll see you Monday, Underwood," Coach Collins said and sat down at his desk while Underwood straightened up. The buck bent over, grabbing his pants off the floor and stepped into them, accidentally letting his cum soaked ass touch the back of his denim jeans, and hastily fastened his button-up shirt. His legs wobbled as he staggered out of the office. A dark stain blossomed right on the buck's rear end, the lifted tail leaving little to the imagination.

There was nothing quite like the tight, snug hole of a willing jockslut.

Ten minutes later, Coach Collins had finished the paperwork and put his clothes back on. A black collared polo top with orange sleeves and a single white stripe separating the two colors and a pair of shorts to match. He turned out his office lights and stepped out. His floppy ears caught the unmistakable sound of water running over tile. It was the only sound that could be heard in the empty locker room. He was certain all of his boys would have been long gone by now and home to enjoy their weekend.

The Rottweiler headed for the showers to investigate, in case a student had forgotten to turn off the shower in their stall, or to peep at who was still there after hours. He may not be the first one to work in the morning, Randall Johnson was usually there in the morning to greet him with a glazed donut and a smile, but Coach Collins would always be the last one out of his locker room.

Collins turned the corner into the long row of shower stalls. The coach had insisted on them when the school went through renovations a few years back. Not that faculty needed to know his true intentions, wanting privacy for his players, but they were conveniently large enough to fit two comfortably. His tight, dark pucker under his wagging, stumpy tail clenched at the fond memory of Nick Sanchez's raspy tongue rimming him, on multiple occasions, in a shower stall after a sweltering day out on the field. Oh, how the tiger used his tongue. Collins wondered if maybe Sanchez had stuck around after practice, waiting for him to join the lonely jock in the showers.

He peered at a particular stall down the aisle, hot steam billowing out of it, clouding the individual within. Coach Collin's saw not orange fur with black stripes, but fur that ranged from tan to various shades of brown. He recognized the canine as none other than Kyle Weber, one of the new recruits to his team. The German Shepherd was humming a catchy tune; one that Collins knew he'd heard on the radio recently. The boy scrubbed shampoo into his immaculate, thick pelt. His head was upturned toward the shower head, occasionally singing out a lyric here or there.

Coach Collins usually had his first sessions with his boys within the privacy of his soundproof office, but with everyone else already gone, he had a golden opportunity that he couldn't pass up. He stripped out of his clothes and laid them neatly folded on the nearest of three wooden benches, a stark contrast to the usual mountain of wet towels, sweat-drenched clothes and the fine rumps of his players that usually buried them. He was silent as he approached the singing shepherd, who was still completely unaware of the Rottweiler's presence. Ever since the first day Collins had laid his lustful eyes on the other canine during tryouts, he had noticed Weber could be a bit oblivious to his surroundings.

Weber was a welcome addition to the football team, the shepherd having proven himself on the field with impressive strength and agility. Coach Collins thought he might be best utilized as a tight end to cover for Cory Dietrich; the Doberman twin on the team who vouched for him the day after the shepherd had tried out for the team.

Of course, Collins found out that the dobie's recommendation had come at an unusual cost for the shepherd. If he wanted a good word with the Coach, Weber agreed that both Cory and his brother Rory could do whatever they wished to him after practice the first day. There hadn't been any protests from the shepherd when the cockhounds used their oral skills of persuasion, literally coming to a mutual agreement as the brothers both greedily swallowed Weber's load before they took turns filling both ends of the new recruit.

Collins was certain the three of them hung out multiple times after that. The brothers no longer frequented his office as often since the shepherd joined the team and he followed the pair of identical cockhounds around like a lost puppy. Collins didn't mind too much, they were both gorgeous hunks. He found them equally attractive since it was hard to tell them apart, but he worried they might get a bit too out of hand if he didn't reel their leashes in. The Rottweiler made a mental note to set up another private training session with the Dietrich's.

The sound of the running water and the shepherd humming masked the Rottweiler's steps but not the musk of his arousal. He stopped just outside of the stall, standing right behind Weber, his eyes able to take in the sight of every inch of the naked shepherd and his tight bubble butt. Collins's plump sheath began to throb as he eyed that swaying ass, imagining what it would feel like bouncing on his bone.

Not only had he not had a chance to shower himself since returning from the field, there had also been a near hour-long session with Underwood. The combination of the hot steam from the shower and his growing lust for the shepherd seemed to amplify his musk and pheromones. He got a whiff of himself and felt his cock poke free of his sheath.

Coach Collin's musk seemed to have the same kind of effect on Weber, who had stopped humming and noticed he was becoming unexplainably, insatiably horny. He inhaled deeply, catching the scent of something that reminded him of grass after a rainy day and let it fill his lungs. He couldn't quite place who it could belong to, but he found himself craving the earthy smell.

Weber's tongue lolled out of his muzzle as he began to pant. He reached down, pulled his sheath back and watched his red shaft engorge, growing free from its furry pouch. He grabbed a bar of soap from its perch inside the stall and began to suds up his cock, getting it all slick beneath his paw pads. His low hums turned into soft moans of self-derived pleasure as he stroked his below-average sized cock. He put a paw on the top of the stall to balance himself feeling his sore muscles becoming almost impossible to depend on.

After watching the jock rub himself for a full minute while unsuspectingly breathing in his coach's masculine musk, Collins decided it was finally time to make his presence known.

He leaned in close to the shepherd's unalerted ears and whispered, "Looks like you could use some company, pup."

The German shepherd's head jerked to look who had snuck up on him and let out a surprised bark, although it sounded more like a squeak to Coach Collins as he nearly jumped out of his fur. His paw squeezed the bar of soap too hard, and slipping right out of his paw, launched like a North Korean rocket into the air and fell onto the wet tile below.

"C-Coach!!" he cried out, tucking his tail between his legs and curled it to cover himself as well as with his paws as he turned around to look up at the stocky Rottweiler who's massive upper body blocked any escape from the stall. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize how long I was take.. how long I was..." his voice faltered and fell, his eyes following suit as they took in just how big the Rottweiler was up close, unable to ignore his fat plump sheath and the pink beginning to show at the tip.

"You've been in here quite a while, figured you might like some company to help scrub those... hard to reach places," Coach Collins said with a friendly grin, his jowls lifting to show his teeth as he stepped into the stall, his muscle gut pushing against the shepherd more toned but lithe frame.

Coach's confident grin never faded as he could breathe his potent body odor even better now that the hot temperature of the water splashed over his black and tan fur and the steam rising from the tile lifted it into his nostrils. His own scent always drove him wild, and since he was canine, his acute sense of smell always kept him itching for some hot, tight jock ass to fuck.

Weber backed up against the wall, his eyes affixed to the growing shaft of the older man as the Rottweiler stepped closer, his cock bouncing freely in the air as he let the water cascade over his belly. He crossed his big tan paw over his firm gut, letting the back of his paw brush against the shepherd's not quite as large chest as his cock jabbed Weber's stomach. He had well over eight inches on the shepherd's height, and with how the shepherd was cowering against the wall, he only felt that much bigger than the jock.

Confused as to why he so hot for his coach at that moment, when the thought had never once crossed his mind before, any thoughts of the Dietrich twins quickly fogged over, replaced by the clear image of Coach Collins's sheath and balls. His paws and tail covered his own nudity, ashamed of being in the presence of a modern day god, a fertile being of lustful desire, to be worshiped by men. His mind became so enraptured by the sight before him, his paws dropped away from his groin and hung at his side, calm and relaxed.

Coach Collins could now see that the shepherd was standing at a full attention, his cock was just somewhat average for a pup of his age and size. He personally took into account just what his boys were packing, and Weber was definitely on the lacking side of the team. Calling Weber pup now didn't quite seem fitting enough for the shepherd. Not that it mattered to him, the shep's cock meant little to the Rottweiler. No, he would leave that morsel of meat to the two other black and tan cockhounds on the team, though he did briefly wonder how they both got their lips around the shep's measly bone.

He looked up at the shepherd's face, it lacked any expression, other than his slack jaw and panting tongue from the heat, breathing quickly as the coach's alluring aroma continued to fill his lungs. He wanted to reach up and pull the shepherd down onto his knees and slap his slab of meat against that cute boy's muzzle and fuck it until he was choking down his load.

Instead, he took a step back so the shepherd could drink in his entire body and asked, "See something you like, runt?"

Weber nodded his head.

"Want to touch it, runt?" he suggested, lifting his arms and resting his elbows on both sides of the stall's walls, letting the musk from his armpits escape.

Weber nodded again, which was consensual enough for the coach as the shepherd took a few steps forward and wrapped his paws around Coach Collins's sheath. It felt so warm against his paw pads. He began to massage it as it throbbed wantingly in his paws. He'd never seen a sheath that big before and wondered just how hung the rottie was. The more he touched it, the more aroused coach became, which meant more of that intoxicating musk overpowering his senses, which in turn made the shepherd more subservient to the bigger canine.

Coach Collins spread his legs out, his hefty balls sagged underneath his cock holster, as water and sweat dripped off the furry orbs. He looked down, the smile on his face still present as he spotted something on the tile and put a paw on the back of Weber's head to make the entranced shep look up at him.

"You dropped the soap, runt. You should bend over and pick it up for me," the rottie growled playfully.

The shepherd licked his horny chops and leaned forward to do as he was told. There wasn't much space for him to work with, and his face found itself planted right against the Rottweiler's tennis sized balls. They reacted to the wet nose pressed against them, pulling up slightly to Coach Collins's musky groin before they relaxed and fell over the bridge of Weber's snout. The German shepherd's face disappeared under the coach's balls as he sniffed up against his fat taint as the Rottweiler stood there with one of his paws squeezing and massaging the boy's lifted rump. Weber's ass cheeks not quite as firm as the players who'd been around a few years. Keeping his legs open for the yet to be broken-in slut currently absorbing his masculine scent, Coach Collins's wrapped a paw around his cock and began to stroke it, letting his pre ooze from the tip and run over his fingers and drip onto Weber's neck, soaking in with the water and the sweat from his balls as the German shepherd began to lick his taint, much to the older canine's delight.

"Oooh," he let out a low guttural growl as his free paw gripped the stall, his fingers curling and his claws digging into the wood.

Either Weber had a lot of prior experience or the Dietrich twins deserved a fat reward for training the new recruit after hours. His thick thighs pushed together, trapping the shep's head between them and he felt the head under his low hanging nuts jerk briefly before he felt the tongue resume. Coach Collins's basked in the heat of the moment, one paw idly rubbing his cock as the German shepherd continued to lick up and down the tight crevice of his ass crack. "Mmm... good boy," he praised, his head dropped back, his own tongue hung out of his mouth as he panted heavily. "Keep up the good work."

Pinned between his coach's thighs, Weber had little choice but to do as he was told. His tongue lapped over the fuzzy chode, swallowing the sweat that had collected there after the grueling practice and Collins' extracurricular activities with Underwood. It tasted so heady, the shep wanted to savor every ounce of it. His tongue twisted to the side, just to get into every nook and cranny, feeling the rottweiler's body involuntarily twitch at the sensations of the wet muscle cleaning his fur.

Coach Collins wasn't sure much much longer he would last if the eager pup kept up the assault with his tongue. His balls were churning and he wanted to unload it in that shep's tight ass. The Rottweiler grabbed Weber's conditioner that rested in an alcove. He popped the cap open and squeezed a generous dollop into his paw, reaching down and spreading Weber's ass cheeks apart and began to rub over the wrinkled flesh under the sopping tail. The moan that escaped the muzzle under his balls didn't get very far, muffled between Collins's thighs, he grinned as the hole parted easily enough for the single digit that rubbed against it and he found himself knuckle deep in the jock. Those hung dobies really did a number on him. Double digits he'd estimate as he added another finger and scissored the stretchy hole.

He felt hot breath pant on his taint, the shepherd's concentration on his nuts lost as he pushed his ass back on those welcomed fingers. Collins curled the two fingers inside and pressed on the gshep's gspot which was followed by a cute bark that echoed inside the empty shower room. He looked down, most of the shep's face was hidden by his plump sac which only seemed to sag more from the shower spray. He let Kyle remain bent over as he continued to play with the jock's tailhole. They had all the time in the world and no one would be interrupting them. His cock continued to leak precum, the clear fluid getting lost in the water as it dribbled onto the shep's forehead and neck, soaking into the fur.

Deciding he was finished toying with the eager shep, he pulled his fingers out of the loosened ring. He heard the faint whine of the boy between his legs, grinning as he imagined that pucker clenching and relaxing, begging to be filled again. He didn't want to make the poor jockslut suffer. His foot moved, accidentally touching the ignored bar of soap. He kicked the soap away from him and behind the shepherd and grabbed the scruff of Weber's neck.

"Didn't I order you to pick up the soap, runt?" Collins rumbled, rubbing his muscle gut idly with a paw. "Now it's all the way over there. Turn around and pick it up."

Weber's tail began to whap against the slick walls as it wagged furiously, the shep stood upright almost immediately and turned around, leaning against the wall furthest from the stall door, disregarding the command and simply lifted his tail and presented himself to the alpha male. Collins chuckled under his breath, bemused by how willing the shep was as he stepped up behind the younger male and let his fat juicy bone slap between those pert cheeks. His paws spread them wide open, revealing the winking tailhole that seemed to call out to him to claim his bitch. Most of the water now splashed off Collins massive chest, the droplets bounced off his pecs and muscle gut and ran down the short black fur to his groin, where he began to roll his hips, his cock rubbed between those wet ass cheeks. Collins knew he was preing, judging by how hard he was throbbing, even if the water washed it all away by the time it dripped from his pointed tip. He pressed it against the jock's pucker and pushed in.

Weber's mind was in pure ecstasy, any concerns and doubts about doing something with a faculty instructor over twice his age and any consequences quickly washed down the drain with the water and the immeasurable amount of precum his long-forgotten cock dripped under him. Instead, all he could think about was getting his coach as deep as he could inside his toned body and being filled with rottie cum.

He didn't have to wait long for his wish to come true, seconds passed after he felt the tapered tip slip past his rim and those massive hips rolled and pushed forward. His body quivered from the weight on top of him and the growing pressure that filled his insides. Coach's paws slid up from his cheeks and grasped his hips, providing extra support in case his knees gave way. He couldn't prevent the moans that escaped his muzzle when coach began to pull back, leaving just the fainting hint of his pulsing cockhead inside him before pushing back in, adding another inch or two every time. It was the longest tease Weber had ever had in his life, and he wanted to beg for more, but he couldn't find the right words to say.

Collins seemed to read his mind, the rottie leaned forward, his height advantage over the jock made it easy to reach the exposed neck and nip along up to the ears. He breathed in heavily, taking in the heightened smells of arousal that permeated within the confined stall. "OOoh fuck..." he groaned deeply, his gut rested on top of the jock's clenching ass who's fleshy walls squeezed and caressed every inch of his shaft. "There's nothing better than a tight jock's bitch hole," Collins rumbled out loud and bit his lip as he slid in until the jock's sphincter pressed his growing knot. "You're gonna feel so good runt."

Weber let out another cute bark when he felt that fat bulbous flesh kiss his ring and found his voice. "Aaahh f-fuck me C-coach... make me yours..." he whimpered in need, pushing his ass back, wanting to feel every inch locked inside him, making him one with the older canine. He yelped when Coach Collins pulled back and then pushed right back in. Weber grunted as his body was shoved against the wall, his toes barely able to reach the wet surface of the tiles below as his entire body tensed up, his abs flexed as the knot slammed against his entrance, pounding it in and out like a battering ram. "O-oh f-fuck!! It's so big!"

Coach Collins grunted deeply into the shep's ears, keeping his gut against the jock's back and railed him against the shower wall. Since most of Weber's weight was supported by his hips and cock, Collins would pull his cock out halfway before he drove back in. The shepherd groaned loudly as entire body bounced, his ass cheeks jiggled with the deep thrusts. The rottweiler placed his paws on the shepherd's shoulders, pulling him down as he was determined to tie the knot with that pert rump that was clenching hard on his shaft, milking him for all it's worth. Weber's face was twisted in pleasure, his tongue lolled out of his maw as he was bred roughly. His ears were pinned back submissively as his ass was stretched to its limits, picking up the rumbling grunts of the massive canine that held him against the shower wall. Loud wet slaps echoed as their bodies collided with each other, Coach Collins's nuts slapping against the shep's taint, ready to empty their contents and claim a new bitch.

"OOH fuck Coach... Oooh yess... f-fuck... m-mooore!!" Weber cried out, begging for more. His paws couldn't decide whether they should brace for impact on the wall or hang limply at his side and let the massive rottweiler do all the work. He had completely forgotten about his own erection, which bounced untouched mere centimeters from the slick wall his body was held against. He could feel every inch of Coach Collins's cock burrowing deep inside him, stretching his ass nicely and sending a pleasant warmth throughout his guts as his prostate was massaged with every pass.

Coach Collins's panting became gruffer as he gave that jockslut everything he could, hammering his knot against the shepherd's quivering pucker. He knew that Weber would be sitting on the bench come next practice, still walking funny even after recovering from the free weekend. He could tell the shepherd was close as the jock's legs lifted involuntarily up as his body hit it's peak, hearing the splats of an intense orgasm hit the wet shower walls, only to ooze down around the rottweiler's feet and be washed away into the drain. He dared reach around and grasp the neglected cock in one paw, the comparison dwarfed Weber's doghood and jerked him off, eliciting a louder sluttish moan from the jock as his ass clenched on the pounding knot. There was a wet pop followed by a yelp from Weber as Collins pushed past the ring and the stretched flesh squeezes tightly around it, causing it to protrude slightly as the knot tugged back before Collins pushed in deeper.

Collins grit his teeth and clenched his tight ass, holding off his orgasm for as long as he could. His paw that had stroked off the rest of Weber's pecker rubbed up the shepherd's defined abs, smearing cum into the wet fur as he felt his own throbbing shaft pushing against the shep's guts from the inside. He churred to himself, grinning as he flexed his cock, causing Weber to gasp and shiver from pleasure shooting up his spine. Collins decided he had teased his newest jockslut enough, he threw his head back and howled, letting his balls do their work and filled the leaner canine. With his paw still on the jock's stomach, he could feel the strong ejaculate through the wet fur and the flesh holding it in.

Each pulse of his shaft meant another rope of seed which flooded Weber's gut within a few moments. With nowhere else to go but deeper, Collins's felt the shepherd's abdomen begin to swell just a little and slosh inside. His hips kept moving, following each spurt as he ground his black-furred hips against the rump that fit perfectly between his legs. His heaving gut remained pressed to the shepherd's back, panting as he rode out the rest of his climax, satisfied for now.

The two basked in the afterglow, with Weber still held up against the wall, Collins's chin rested between those flat ears. Collins was certain the boy was on cloud nine, and wouldn't be coming down anytime soon. He turned the shower knob into the off position and remained standing there holding Weber as water dripped off their wet fur. He felt his hamstrings being to strain as he supported the added weight. Collins realized that despite his seemingly never-ending lust for his boys and unlimited reservoir of rottie spunk, his older body would someday be unable to keep up. But until then, he'd fuck like he was a horny teenager until his balls went dry.

"Welcome to the team, runt," Collins said gruffly, his arms sliding to embrace the shep against his pectorals as he licked up Weber's neck and ears, grooming him affectionately. "Feel free to stop by my office anytime you need a distraction."

Weber was still in his euphoric state, Coach Collins's pheromones still completely overpowered his senses. But he understood what the rottweiler meant. He smiled as he looked over his shoulder and wagged his tail against the rottweiler's gut, panting like a goofy dog.

"C-coach, would you help me wash up... it's gonna be a mess when you pull out."

The rottweiler grinned and ruffled Weber's head. "I always have time for another shower. There's no guarantee that I won't fill you up again, runt."