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Chapter Four - The Bigger They Are, The Harder They Cum

The football team whooped and hollered as they were dismissed from the field, ending another successful day of long and tiring practice. Their voices carried through the concrete corridor that lead from the entrance of the football field to the locker room. It was impossible to catch more than a word or two from a passing conversation as the players scattered into the black and orange colored locker room, pulling their practice jerseys off over their heads and body armor, and peeling away the spandex pants that clung to their sweaty thick thighs. While some paraded around in the buff, others preferred to keep some modesty and walk amongst their sweaty jockstraps. The thin straps on the sides framed their firm tight rumps while the cup of the jock hugged their most valued possession.

It was eye candy heaven. They all acted like they hadn't taken a peek when a fellow teammate bent over to pick up an article of clothing, sporting a chub at the fantasies of what they would do to the other in their thick heads. But there was one who had no such fantasies in his head, he didn't have to entertain such silly ideas. He got to live them.

Coach Collins stood at the tunnel entrance, keeping a role call, making sure everyone was in the locker room before he blew his whistle, a shrill screech that halted all his boys dead in their tracks and got their attention to briefly praise them and then dismissed them to go shower. The rottweiler wore his usual attire; a clean polo and shorts that may have seemed a bit tighter than intended, and left very little to the imagination. His clothes were now drenched in his own sweat from being on the field for the day, the damp polo hugged to his torso, the fur matted down from the perspiration. He was a stocky canine, standing at six foot and seven inches to the exact measure. A strong, barreled chest, ample ass cheeks that sported a docked tail that never seemed to stop wagging which in turn always seemed to make his rump move with it. His floppy ears perked when he looked at the mostly naked players on his football team, proud of each and every one of his boys as he called them. They were all his, whether they knew that or not. He had grown fond and intimate with nearly every single one of them on more than one occasion. He had recently acquired some new recruits, namely Nathan Poleski and Kyle Weber, a red husky and German shepherd respectively. There were a few more reserves that had joined as well, and he was certain he would get to know them in due time.

Although Coach Collins hadn't had found an opportune time to arrange a private appointment with Weber to properly introduce himself, he had received two highly praised recommendations with slight interruption while being blown by the Dietrich brothers, Doberman twins who had taken upon themselves to closely examine and test their newest teammate's talents and abilities off the field. He had also received a hands on experience with the studly husky, Poleski on the first day of recruiting, resulting in the husky learning first hand what it was like being on the Coach's team. He had come of his own volition, sneaking into the rottweiler's office and using oral bribery, managed to convince the rottweiler he would make a valuable member to his team.

He grunted to himself, not even caring if anyone noticed him adjusting himself in front of the team. Yes, these boys were like a drug to him. Their plump, tight asses a forbidden fruit, ripe for the old dog to take, over and over again and make them his. And those horny sluts were all too willing to bend over when he wanted it. And he wanted it right now.

Collins looked to see who was still dawdling around the near empty locker room, spotting two of his front linemen that usually smashed into each other on the field chatting with each other. A handsome orca by the name of Kyril Ivanovich stood by his locker, still in his grass stained practice uniform, the bulky jersey over this barreled chest. His thick tail idly swished behind him, the fins slapping against Trenton Eisenhower's massive taloned foot, a formidable looking Tyrannosaurus Rex, his emerald scales glistened with sweat as they talked about their weekend plans, eager to be free. Both were massive beasts, kings of both sea and land and not a force to be reckoned with out on the field.

But their plans would have to wait. He had something else in mind for the both of them, and after having given both private sessions since last year, they continued to be frequent visitors to his office on separate occasions. The Coach had worked up a sweat and needed a way to unwind. Besides, it had been a few hours since he'd last gotten off inside one of his boys prior to practice.

"Ivanovich. Eisenhower!" He barked to get their attention, both of their heads jerked up to look at their coach who approached them. Standing in front of him, he put his paws on his big hips, letting them get a good whiff of his strong scent that emanated from his dank armpits. "You two did great on the field today, I hope to keep seeing that kind of determination throughout this next season. Crush their line of defense or slip past their offense and get those sacks, that'll lead us to another undefeated year."

As he spoke, he noticed Eisenhower's nostrils flare up and the rex's blocky head lean toward the source of the smell, trying to get a better smell of his coach's intoxicating musk. Ivanovich seemed to be a bit oblivious to the situation, so Coach Collins wrapped his arm around the towering orca's shoulder and pulled him in close before he could push away.

"I've got some exercises I'd like for you two to try," Coach Collins continued as he brought Eisenhower's head into his armpit, feeling both of those studs' snouts press into the damp spots of his polo and inhale deeply. "But I don't think the locker room is the appropriate place to do this."

They didn't protest as his hands went from their shoulders and slid down their sweat absorbed jerseys, following along their spine to finally rest on those firm yet gropable spandex-covered cheeks. He turned around, taking them with him on either side in what looked like a headlock except with his big tan paws squeezing and rubbing their ass cheeks while their faces were buried under his armpits. They breathed in the hot, masculine musk that filled their lustful lungs, and neither of them protested to Coach Collins's advances or seemed to realize what was going on past their noses.

Coach Collins nudged his door open with his foot, grateful that he had left it slightly ajar and releasing the two jocks, managing to squeeze them through the door frame before closing the door behind him.

They both turned to face him, standing shoulder to shoulder and looking quite dim-witted at their coach, neither of the two studs were wearing their protective cups nor did they realize that their spandex felt tighter around their growing erections. Somewhere in their thick skulls they wondered how they got into his office and what Coach Collins had in mind.

"You wanted to see us, Coach?" Ivanovich slurred his words, even sounding unsure of what he was saying and licked his lips, tasting his coach's salty sweat.

He just smiled at them and pulled them back into his arms, their bodies instantly slumped, their stiff muscles relaxed. Eisenhower was the first to drop to his hands and knees, his thick tail bumped against Collins's desk in the middle of the room. The dino was always quick to obey, and that made him one of the rottweiler's favorite playthings. He guided Ivanovich to follow suite, both of the jocks on all fours and completely wasted off of his musk. Coach Collins patted their heads and directed them to his aching cock, eager to be out of his shorts and worked by some needy sluts.

He noticed both of his horny boys were both at full length, precum oozing out of their spandex pants. They followed his whims without instruction, Eisenhower being ever such the gentle giant as he tugged Coach Collins's shorts down with his teeth. The strongest source of his body odor was now out in the open and the two jocks wouldn't even know what hit them as the overwhelming scent lingered inside the small office. Their feeble brains left them little room to think about anything other than lustful thoughts about the drippy red rocket which sprung free and twitched out in the open between the two horny boys.

"You boys just concentrate on getting Coach off," he ordered as he felt their broad snouts press along his dripping length, precum oozing over their musk filled nostrils. Coach Collins was so horny, it was nearly unbearable. He nudged his cock into Ivanovich's muzzle, groaning happily as the warm, wet lips began to suckle instantaneously on his puppy-maker, providing some relief to the rock hard swelling between his legs.

The rottweiler's paws extend over their backsides, stroking their asses as their long tails stretched out behind them. Collins's paws slipped under their tight waistbands, eliciting a gasp from the jocks as he palmed and caressed their well-toned ass cheeks.

"Don't think about what I'm doing," he spoke soothingly to them, feeling the orca bob up and down on his length, the back of his smooth head pushed up against the rottweiler's chest as he felt a tongue wrap around his loose hanging balls. Eisenhower made the most of his time while he waited his turn to blow the coach. Meanwhile Collins rubbed his thick fingers around the sweaty holes under their thick tail bases, circling the quivering rims and listening to their sharp intakes of his growing musk and arousal. He knew they were getting just as excited as he was, their wet bulges rubbed against his firmly planted feet between their legs as they began to grind back into his meaty paws.

His cock surged inside of Ivanovich's muzzle, spraying precum over the orca's fat tongue as Eisenhower began to suckle on each nut individually. The rex sucked the sweat off of them and let Coach Collins's salty fluid tickle his own taste buds. Coach Collins smiled proudly at his two boys, curling his middle fingers and rewarding them with a single claw inside their needy bitch holes, the wrinkly rims parted for him without any resistance. He listened to their soft moans as he worked the fingers in and out of them, sliding the claw teasingly along their prostates, making them more needy and wet just for him. Both jocks pushed their large and accomodating asses back against his paws, desperate for further stimulation. They acted like puppets,s helpless under the control of his fingers pulling their strings. He added two more fingers inside both of them, their tunnels opening up and clenching as the two big studs bounced on his fingers to eagerly fuck themselves.

He toyed with their tailholes, drumming three fingers inside each of them. His trimmed claws tapped across their prostates as he felt a long string of precum spurt out of Eisenhower's tented spandex and onto his footpaw. The dino moaned against his balls, letting both of them hang in his open mouth as Collins spread his fingers apart, stretching both of his boys out nicely. Ivanovich began to nurse his cock head, greedily sucking out the sweet nectar from Coach Collins's shaft as Eisenhower began to mouth over the lower half of the shaft, his snout bumping against the orca's white chin. Coach Collins smiled to himself, his jowls lifting slightly as he watched the two sweat whores work his cock like their lives depended on it.

The more he fingered them, the faster they worked his shaft, and the more he played with their swollen prostates, the more their massive tails trembled. Soon he heard both of them moan around his junk as they both experienced an inner orgasm. Their hypersensitive glands secreted clear fluid that dribbled out of their well fingered tailhole and down to their jockstrap pouch underneath the spandex pants. Both of his footpaws were coated with their heavily abundant precum, not quite solid enough for ejactulate. He figured without a doubt that at the rate they were leaking, they would ruin their poor pants. However, getting them off and where was none of his concern. His orgasm was the only one that mattered at that moment, and it would be certainly not be wasted on the floor where the sluts' load belonged.

Ivanovich's muffled moans only drove Coach Collins to a faster orgasm, his hips bucking against the orca's face before he threw his head back and snarled. His slick fingers curled inside their spasming puckers and pushed on their abused prostates as he blew his load right into the orca's waiting muzzle. The massive killer whale gulped every drop Collins had to give him just as he had been taught. He felt Eisenhower wrap his greedy tongue around his pulsating shaft and try to invade the orca's muzzle just to get a taste of his precious seed. He let them suck and lick his cock clean as he slowed down his relentless rear assault on their tailholes.

When his orgasm ended, Coach Collins withdrew his fingers, much to their dismay, and wiped them off on both of the jocks' asses. They looked over him with foggy eyes, awaiting command like a mindless pair of drones. The rottie stood up straight, his still rock-hard cock slipping free of Ivanovich's muzzle as he stripped down to nothing in front of the musk sluts. His body was completely covered in the sweat he'd worked up from the field and fingering his boys. For a man of his age, his libido and stamina outpaced any of the football players that had walked into his locker room.

"Stand up and bend over my desk sluts," he growled with a gruff bark in his voice, one of them was gonna end up with a load of rottweiler pups deep in their tender puckers. They stood and bent over on command, tails raised high as they knocked over whatever paperwork Coach Collins had left on top of the wooden top. In front of him, two gorgeous stud-class rumps clad in stretched spandex were on display for his choosing.

Holding their tails aside, they tugged the back of their pants down and presented two sets of cheeks: one a smooth and glistening black and white, the other green, tan, and scaley. Their impressive packages dangled between their legs. The orca's pearly white balls and massive uncut shaft outsized even the Coach's, while the dino was so girthy that it almost seemed misshapen. Coach Collins pitied anyone who ended up taking anything the size of that monster.

With their tails to the side, and their legs spread eagle, they grabbed their ass cheeks with both hands and pulled their cheeks apart to show their well-prepared tailholes which were slightly gaping and glistening from their climax moments before. Not wanting to disappoint such well behaved sluts, Coach Collins stepped up to the rex and grabbed Eisenhower's wrists, pulling him back and impaling him with his thick prick. Plunging into a stretched hole, the fleshy muscled walls spasmed on the intruder and squeezed down every veined inch of Coach Collins's dick as the rex roared out. He grunted with exertion as Eisenhower's ass seemed to wrap itself around his shaft and swallow every inch he pumped in and out of him. He reached over to Ivanovich rump, slapping it hard to elicit a moan from the orca before he plunged four fingers into the empty tailhole and quickly found the orca's throbbing prostate. He found a fast rhythm of pounding the stud in front of him and finger fucking the other.

Coach Collins felt his second orgasm rapidly approaching, but both his boys deserved a reward. Angling his hips, he put more of his weight behind each of his thrusts into Eisenhower's self lubricated ass, his gut pushing against the back of the dino's raised tail as his knot threatened to breach and tie.

"Fuuuck!!" Coach Collins growled as he threw his head back. He slammed his bulbous knot past any remaining defenses the linebacker had, popping in and feeling the familiar sensation of his balls pulling up to his groin. He unloaded a second time, feeling every surge of his shaft shooting an impressive amount of virile rottweiler cum deep within the dinosaur. Both of his boys groaned in unison with him, as if some spell had been broken and the soft sound of wet splurts could be heard as the two jocks came in their tight spandex pants. The rottweiler patted both far sides of their hips, watching the thick asses jiggle under his big tan paws.

"Good boys..." he praised. "Nothing like a pair of musk thirsty sluts to help their coach out after a long day of practice. Ready to go shower and have another round?"

The sound of two thick tails swaying back and forth in excitement was all he needed to start fucking Eisenhower's sloppy pucker again, much to the horny stud's delight.