4 ~ First Breeding.

I left Coach Marcus’ apartment that night wrecked and desperate, my hole throbbing from his fingers' effects, mind spinning with need. 

I craved the real thing now, that massive black shaft buried deep inside my hole, pumping me like I was made for him. 

We didn’t have much to say when we met physically, other than staring at each other. But text messages kept on rolling in throughout the week: him sending teasing pics of his bulge in shorts, me begging for more lessons. 

“Soon, pretty boy. Your tight ass needs to be ready for breeding.”

Friday finally came and he texted: “My place. Do you...