#shortstop came in his pants btw

[cypionatebandit]

the rest of the baseball team, you're just one of the guys to them. you’re one of them when they're shoving each other around and making crass jokes, you get the same treatment as the rest after you make a home run.

you all go to the captain’s place after the game, most of the team is there, and you and a few of the other varsity guys go to the basement to get high, crowding on the shitty couch.

you take the first drag and it's too deep like you always do, and you're bent over choking and sputtering as you try to breathe. they're all laughing and patting your back as you're doubled over on the couch, and the rest of them pass the pen around.

you don't feel it at first, as you catch your breath, just sinking into the cushions behind you. then the world starts to spin and you can't help the smile almost shoving its way onto your face as you lean your head so far back that it all turns upside down.

and then one of the guys (shortstop, maybe, you can’t tell) pulls at your arm, and you can’t help but go along as the room tilts on it’s axis and your muscles twitch and he guides you to straddle his legs. his palms sweep over your thighs and they’re so, so warm. it’s all you can think about.

he slides his hands up to your hips, shifts you to straddle his muscled thigh and it feels so good, your hips twitching as he grips your waist and guides you to grind down against him. even through the layers of your clothing the friction against your clit feels so good. it’s almost involuntary when you start to hump his leg. you can’t stop, your hips thrusting themselves as you pitch forward and bury your head into his shoulder.

two hands slide up to your back, hooking under your arms and pulling you closer to his chest. you can’t stop grinding on his thigh, he doesn't even have to guide you anymore. one of the other guys strokes a hand through your hair and you feel the couch shift as a third person sits next to you.

the hand in your hair tightens, pulls your head up, and it takes effort to open your eyes. the captain, you can see now, his hand moves from your hair, sliding down your cheek to slip his thumb between your lips. you start to suck almost in tandem with the rhythm of your hips, saliva building and leaking out the corners of your lips even through your cotton-mouth high, your cunt soaking your boxers making each helpless twitch and jerk of your hips even better against your sensitive clit. you whine around the finger in your mouth, eyes falling closed almost against your will as you suck harder with the building pleasure.

the one who had sat next to you both, barely visible in your peripheral—he has to be the first baseman, he was the last one to come down with you all—he grabs one of your hands from where you had forgotten them at your sides, too distracted to care, and you can hear him unzips his pants. his dick is already hard and leaking when he wraps your hand around it, using his own to hold it in place. he starts to thrust into your grip, slick and hot against your palm.

the finger leaves your mouth and you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips as you try to chase it, mouth messy and agape, hips still instinctually grinding down and sending sparks of pleasure through your body. you don't have to wait for long as it feels before the thick head of a cock is pushed against your lips. he pushes forward on the edge of too-rough and you nearly choke on it. his hand goes back in your hair and you suck as he pushes you down on his cock at his own pace.

your nerves are overwhelmed, pushed to the brink, and tears are forced out of your eyes as you don't know where to focus between all of the hands on you, the cock in your mouth, in your hand, the thigh between your legs as you helplessly grind your clit against it. you can’t think and you can barely breathe.

you barely recognize the orgasm for what it is when it shutters through you, another whine stopped in your throat by the cock pushing down it, and your muscles seize as your hips keep jerking and twitching, and even as it gets too much you couldn't stop if you tried. it goes on for ages, it feels like, before you slump boneless against the shortstop’s chest, head still tilted upwards by the hand in your hair.

the cock in your mouth hasn’t stopped, but each thrust gets faster and rougher, spit dripping down your chin. the captain pulls out and you heave a breath before you feel the ropes of his cum hit your face, getting in your mouth. around the same time, you think, you can’t really tell anymore, the thrusts of the first baseman next to you start to stutter and you can feel the hot pulse of his dick as he cums in your hand.

you're too tired to tell what’s happening as they shuffle around, and you're dragged to sit in someone else's lap, propped against their chest. you keep your eyes closed, mind spinning like an off-center top.

they tilt your head up with a finger and you can hear the captain’s voice as he wipes the cum from your face with a wipe. such a good boy for us, he says, and you breathe.