Our Team Mascot

That’s Timmy, the team mascot, happily displaying the enthusiasm and the pussy that’s made him so popular with the entire team.  There’d been some question when the coach openly advertised for a gay dude to become our team mascot.  After all, we’re the ‘Bulldogs’ and it just didn’t seem like a gay dude– any gay dude – would really fit the bill.  And then, the first time Coach brought Timmy into the locker room and introduced him to us all as the teams’ new mascot, well you can imagine the reaction.  “Fuck, Coach,” Lyle Vincent, one of the co-captains exclaimed, ‘he’s just a damn puppy.  He’s no fucking Bulldog.”  It was a sentiment that met with wide approval from all of us.

But Coach didn’t seem to be put out at all.  He just turned to the boy and said, “Strip down, boy, and show them your pussy.”  Timmy blushed a bright red, but he did as he was told.  And right there in the locker room, in front of all of us, the boy stripped buck naked, centered himself on one of the benches, and showed us his waxed pink lil pussy, just like he’s doing in the photo above.

And Coach turned to us and said, “Of course, he’s no bulldog.  You’re the bulldogs.  But he’s no puppy, either.  He’s a bitch.  And now he’s the bulldogs’ bitch.  And, like any bitch, he’s yours to fuck, whenever you want.”  Then, as if to prove his point, Coach pushed down his shorts, then his jock and  took his hard 8-inch cunt buster and plowed it straight through Timmy’s puckered opening all the way, balls-deep, into Timmy's fuck-hole.

Timmy couldn’t help squealing as Coach rammed his unlubricated fuck-stick into him, but that smile, that smile never left his face.  Not even when Coach spent the next ten minutes reaming the crap out of his pussy.  Not when Zach Simmons followed suit and jammed his own 8-incher into him the moment Coach pulled out of Timmy’s cunt.  Not when the rest of us – all of us – took our own turns banging away at Timmy's twat.  Timmy took us all that first day.  Every single one of us.  And while the boy’s pussy was gaping as wide as a cavern by the time we finished with him, and the stud-juice was cascading down his legs as he got unsteadily back to his feet, he still had that great smile on his face.

Timmy erased any misgivings we originally had during that first session and, over the rest of the season, his unflagging willingness to serve as the team’s cum-hole won over even the most hardened homophobe.  

We took care of him, too.  We made sure he never spent a night the whole season without two or three or ten hard cocks pounding the crap out of his lil pink pussy.  And when we won the State championship, every one of us laid pipe to him again, just like we’d done that first afternoon.  And Timmy was smiling that great smile the whole time we did it.

Timmy may never be a bulldog, but he’ll be the bulldogs’ bitch as long as he lives.  And, knowing Timmy, he’ll be smiling the whole time.