Work was slow this summer (hey, the recession hits everybody). Most days were spent at the bars with the guys or at home beating off. But, I've found that there were really only so many times I could drink in the afternoon or whack it until my whole house reeked of jizz before it got stale. So after the excitement of both activities had worn off, I decided to head out to the park to get some exercise.
The only physical activity I can keep up that doesn't involve blowing my load is running. It seems to wake up every part of my body. This day I put on a pair of running shorts and a white beater. I broke my own rule about going commando and put on a jockstrap. It's one thing to let the boys run free in your jeans when you're just walking and driving, it's an entirely other thing to have them flopping around in loose shorts "scaring the children".
I drove the short distance to the park and began my run. The day was cooler than most, and it was pleasant to run. Still, by the end I was soaked in sweat. As I walked toward the locker rooms in the park center, I peeled off my beater. The cool air pricked my now bare chest. My nipples quickly became hard and goose bumps appeared on my hairy chest.
The entrance to the locker rooms was on the outside of the building. As I rounded the corner the baseball diamond came into view. Memories of my teen days, jacking off with my dad and my friends' dads in the locker room during baseball practice crept back into my brain. My jock began to tighten against my hardening schlong. I entered – the locker room was empty. I made my way to the back, behind a row of lockers. I leaned against the wall and pulled my shorts down. My cock – now rock-hard – was tenting the jockstrap so hard that it no longer covered me. The sweat from my still-gleaming body combined with the steady stream of pre now oozing from my dick produced a strong odor. I pulled the fabric of the jock aside and began to slowly stroke my meat, thinking of a particular afternoon when I was fifteen – the first time I saw the dads jacking off.
...
It was a warm Saturday afternoon in September. School had just started so there wasn't much work yet. I had no real interest in baseball – I joined mostly because my friends were on the team. Still, I was pretty decent. This day, after our warm-up, coach came up to me as I was tying my shoes on the bench and asked me to get his clipboard from his office in the locker room. As I walked away I looked back and saw him adjust what seemed to be a slight chub growing in his pants.
Puzzled, but unconcerned, I opened the door to the locker room. Our locker room had a partition between the door and the main space to block the view. However, there were plenty of clues as to what was going on. The room was hot – hotter than I had felt it even in summer, and there was a strong smell – something that even overpowered the constant smell of rank teen boys. As I began to edge in closer I could make out heavy breathing, grunts, and the occasional wet thwack. Totally unnerved, and yet incredibly curious, I rounded the partition. What I saw nearly made me shit my pants. All of my friends' dads were standing around a bench, naked, jerking their dicks! I couldn't believe it. There was Mr. Harris, Mr. Reilly, Mr. Smetanka and everyone else. Some were more fit than others, some had bigger cocks, but they were all hot, hairy dads having a circle jerk in my locker room!
Still in shock I finally noticed my own dad. He was standing at the head of the bench – obviously the leader of this whole thing. Everyone was fixated on his every move. For his part he was stroking his cock somewhat lazily. While he seemed in control of himself, other guys looked like they were just begging to nut.
I had never looked at my father physically before. Now that I was, I could see that he was incredible. He was incredibly toned, and his body hair flowed over the soft curves of his defined muscles. His dick was long – maybe nine inches – and straight, thrusting like a battering ram from his hips. His balls were big and gathered up by the base of his shaft, ready to release their seed whenever he wanted them to.
Suddenly the action stopped and everyone tuned to look at me. I froze, my overactive teen cock hard in my uniform pants despite the sinking feeling in my stomach. I was about to turn and run when my dad called me over. I walked over to his side. He put his arm around my shoulder and introduced me, but it was like my head was stuffed with cotton. I only heard a faint buzzing as I looked around at all the dads staring at me and felt the heat coming off my dad's sexually-charged body. As my mind returned to consciousness again, I heard my dad speaking to me, "Take off your shirt, son. I want to see how you're developing."
Not knowing what else to do, I pulled my shirt over my head. Baseball practice over the summer had really left me toned and tanned. My pecs and abs had become well defined, and I was pretty proud of my body and my new little happy trail between my hips. My dad massaged my shoulders, his big dick bumping into the small of my back whenever he leaned in a little bit. After a minute he spoke to me again, "Pull down your pants and show us whatcha got."
I was beyond questioning anymore. I pulled down my pants and socks in one motion. I stood there wearing only my baseball cap and my jockstrap, which was tented to the ripping point with my quickly-developing cock and soaked through with precum. I glanced at my dad, he nodded, and I freed my cock and began to jack off like I had never jacked off before. As soon as I began, the dads started up again. I had one hand wrapped around the base of my cock, pulling down on my balls, while my other hand was sliding up and down my extra hard pole. I was slowly getting closer and closer – my strokes getting more irregular and my muscles contorting – when I heard a couple of the dads blow their loads. I looked up, saw two ropes of cum spray across the room, and I was gone. I thrust my hips into my fists one final time, let out a roar that filled the room, and sprayed my teen load six feet down the bench I was in front of. I stumbled back, listening to the sounds of all of the other guys cumming at the sight of my epic teen jizz. As soon as they were done, my dad took my place at the head of the bench, looked at me with a wry smile, and jacked himself to the edge. When he was about to cum, he stopped stroking, squeezed his shaft in his right hand, and let out a loud "uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunnngAAAAHHHH!!!" as he blew his load right over mine.
As he stroked the last drop of spooge from his still-hard cock, my dad came and put his arm around my shoulders, and I did the same. We stood there sweating, panting, and smiling.
...
My mind came back to the present. I was so close to cumming it was unbelievable. My fat cock glistened with precum, begging for release. It felt so good being right on the edge that I tried to hold back, even though it was torture. I brushed my fingers over the underside of my cock, and it jerked under my touch. My chest was heaving with my heavy breaths and every muscle on my stocky frame was flexing and contorting. I walked over to a bench between the rows of lockers and positioned myself the same way I had back in the locker room years ago. Legs spread, dripping with sex sweat, I pressed both hands around the base of my dick, forming a ring. Stretching my skin tight almost put me over the edge. I thrust twice and felt the jizz shoot through my shaft. I roared with lust as my spunk flew across the bench, drenching its entire length. I kept stroking as more and more cum spurted out and then slumped over, my hands on my knees, spent from my awesome spooge.
I pulled on my shorts and grabbed my jock and shirt, the outline of my still half-hard cock visible through the mesh. I left my mess there, hoping somebody else would add to it.