Page 71 of Built To Perform

On day one, I wanted to remind him, he’d got me so worked up I’d creamed my singlet out on the practice mats. Mortified, convinced the shame of it would mean I’d never get hard again; only to bone up again scant minutes later as he groped at me, telling me the only thing the team cared about was winning.

Well, from what Brayden was gazing at now, maybe there was more than just one thing he prioritized.

“Show me that tight freshman hole, Eoin.”

I blushed, but still tilted my hips up. One hand pulling at my cheek, fighting against the firm muscle and the cling of the jock’s strap. The other levering my body up, off the bench, all the better to display myself to him.

“Nice, lil bro, very nice.” The thickness in his voice clear.

I circled a fingertip around my clenching muscle, caught on the intensity of Brayden’s stare. Aware of my own heat, of the sweat building on me. The scent of it, blending with the musk from between my legs and the smell of the soap I’d used that morning. Hard in the shower at the thought of the trip and what might happen on it, then forced to pretend I couldn’t see Asher’s amusement as I stepped out to find him at the sink. The way he’d tried not to make it obvious that he’d clocked my rigid dick, as I grabbed for my towel.

Strange to have felt that overwhelming need to cover up then, only to flaunt myself now in the back of Jefferson’s pickup.

Then again, Brayden and Jefferson had seen me suck on my fingers before, then rub those slick fingertips around my hole. Had seen me grit my teeth, nostrils flared, as I fought the instinctive clench of my muscles; had heard the gasp - brief and sharp - as my body succumbed, and first one finger then a second pushed inside of me.

And they’d seen me work my hole, pulling and tugging on it, overwhelming that tight grip as my cock drooled precum into the jock’s stretched pouch. Knowing, just like I always knew, that there was no way I’d refuse them. That - if, after they’d watched me spread myself so lewdly, they wanted to fuck me on all-fours like a pup, or pressed against the cool, slick tiles of the shower wall, or on my back on the locker room floor where anyone could walk in and catch us - my ass was theirs to breed.

Because we were bros, and teammates, and that’s what we did. And fuck being ashamed of it.

I grunted as the third finger dug into me. Both hands employed, now; pulling to spread myself, my stare flitting between Brayden’s grinning focus between my cheeks, and Jefferson’s eyes locked on mine in the mirror. Gratified, for all it was a familiar thing: for their hunger, their obvious need. A heat in me stoked by the clarity of their desire.

“Don’t stop there, lil bro,” Jefferson mock-chided.

I spat on my hand again, lifted my hips higher. Felt that fluttering moment of protest as I ground a fourth finger in alongside the third, my toes clenching. I’d propped my heels up on the seats in front of me, by the headrests. Muscles straining as I pulled myself wide.

“Fuck, lil bro.” Brayden’s voice raw-edged with lust. “You need some dick in that hole, don’t you.”

I nodded, bottom lip caught between my teeth. That indescribable itch awakened in me, the one I knew could only really be sated with one of my teammate’s heavy bodies draped across mine.

“Pull over, bro,” Brayden told Jefferson.

He got an unimpressed look in return.

“We’re already late.”

Brayden grunted. “Coach won’t mind. This is meant to be a vacation.”

“You think that’s gonna make him any more easy-going?”

From the look Brayden flashed me, I had a strong suspicion he was considering clambering back, through the gap in the seats, to join me. Whether or not Jefferson decided to pull over first.

“Glove compartment,” Jefferson suggested, wearily.

I heard the click of it opening. Brayden’s snort of amusement.

“Bro, why do you have a butt plug in your car?”

Suddenly I could see the trajectory of my ride to the campsite taking a very different turn. And given my only other experience with toys, I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about it.

“It’s Donny’s. He left it at my place.”

Brayden turned, his expression sly. Even in his big hand the plug looked large. Larger, certainly, than the one the seniors had pranked me with when I first joined the team.

“Next best thing, right, lil bro?”

I caught it against my chest, opened my mouth to protest. Only to see Brayden turn back, digging around in the footwell until he brandished a bottle of lube with a triumphant grin.

“Should I ask why you’ve got that in your bag?” Jefferson asked, dryly.