Chapter 3: Chapter 3
The cold vinyl shocked Hazel’s bare back as George shoved her legs apart, his hot tongue immediately lashing her slick, swollen cunt inside her clenching heat, his mouth sucking hard on her clit.
His tongue plunged deeper, vibrating against her sensitive spot while Vlad grinned above her, unzipping his damp pants to free his thick shaft inches from her cheek. Hazel gasped George's name as he worked her, her eyes locked on Vlad's heavy cock already leaking precome onto the massage table's vinyl.
Hazel moaned, "Oh God, George, that feels so fucking good," her breath hitching as the vibration of his tongue sent shockwaves through her core, the sheer intensity shattering every story she'd ever heard about his legendary conquests of fans and media women – this was raw, primal, and utterly beyond anything she’d dared imagine. She screamed George’s name, her body arching violently off the cold vinyl as the second orgasm tore through her, white-hot and consuming.
Her scream still echoed in the humid air as Vlad, grinning fiercely, gripped her damp hair, guiding the thick, flushed head of his cock past her parted lips. Hazel opened wide, taking him deep into her throat with a wet, desperate hunger, swallowing convulsively around his thickness until her nose pressed against his sweat-slicked skin.
Vlad tangled his fingers in her damp hair, forcing her head down as he thrust deeper, the thick length of him hitting the back of her throat with each possessive surge. She gagged, tears pricking her eyes, her throat working desperately around his hard cock as the locker room's roar faded behind the wet, rhythmic sounds of his claiming.
George wrenched her head back by the hair, his thick cock popping free with a wet smack just as Springer, eyes blazing, shoved him roughly aside. "My turn," Springer growled, his strong hands flipping Hazel onto her stomach, the cold vinyl stinging her bare skin before he gripped her hips and rammed his hard cock deep into her slick entrance, stretching her wide.
The vinyl squeaked under Hazel’s bare skin as Springer’s thick cock filled her, stretching deep. Kirk’s rough hands suddenly gripped her hips, his own heavy erection pressing insistently against her mouth until she opened wide, taking him thick and hard down her throat with a desperate, wet gasp.
Springer’s hips snapped forward with a punishing rhythm, each deep thrust driving her face harder onto Kirk’s cock as he growled against her ear, sweat dripping onto her neck, "That's it, Hazel, take it like you wanted in the dugout." He set a relentless pace, long, deep strokes that stretched her impossibly full, his cock sliding in and out with slick precision, his voice rough and low as he fucked her hard and rhythmically, "Feel how deep I own that tight cunt? Just like you dreamed, reporter."
Kirk’s groan ripped through the humid air, thick and guttural, as Hazel hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard, swallowing every hot, salty pulse as his cock jerked deep in her throat. "Holy fuck, Hazel!" he gasped, fingers tightening in her hair, his hips stuttering, the last desperate thrusts emptying him completely before he pulled back, spent.
She licked her lips, tasting him, a raw hunger blazing in her champagne-glazed eyes as she scanned the circle of sweat-slicked, expectant faces. "Who's next?" she demanded, her voice husky, sharp with need, her gaze locking onto Scherzer leaning against a locker, his intense stare already fixed on her swollen mouth. Max pushed off the metal, a slow, predatory grin spreading as he walked towards her, unbuckling his belt with deliberate intent, the heavy weight of his cock already straining against his damp pants.
Max's calloused hands gripped her shoulders, twisting her body around as Springer’s cock drove deeper, the vinyl squeaking beneath her bare knees. Hazel leaned forward without hesitation, her tongue swirling the salty bead from Max’s thick head before taking him deep into her throat, her own wet gasps muffled around him as Springer pounded relentlessly into her soaked core, each hard thrust jolting her mouth further down Max’s shaft.
Nathan Lukes rough hands suddenly grabbed her bare breasts, squeezing the soft mounds hard as Springer’s thrusts rocked her body forward onto Max’s cock. The surrounding players roared approval, their shouts of “Yeah, Luke!” and “Work those tits!” merging with the blaring salsa music, the locker room walls vibrating with their collective, raw encouragement.
Max’s thick cock pulsed against her tongue as Springer’s hips slammed into her ass, the vinyl slick with sweat and spilled champagne under her knees. Then, a roar erupted—"Get in here!"—and the entire team surged forward, a sweating, laughing, beer-scented wave of grasping hands and straining bodies pressing in, drowning her beneath their hungry, collective weight.
The humid crush of bodies pressed Hazel flat against the vinyl as Springer’s rhythm above her turned frantic, his low growl morphing into a guttural roar. "Take it, Hazel!" he snarled, his hips pistoning wildly before he drove deep one final time, a hot, thick pulse erupting just as his grip tightened on her hips, holding her immobilized while he pulled out and his release coated her lower back in warm, sticky streaks.
Before the last tremor left Springer’s body, Max’s calloused hands were already dragging Hazel upright by the arms, spinning her roughly to face him, his pants shoved down around powerful thighs. "My turn," Mad Max grunted, his voice tight with raw need, one hand gripping her hip while the other guided his heavy, flushed cock to her slick, swollen entrance, pushing inside her heat with a single, relentless thrust that stole her breath. Schneider watched, a slow, deliberate smile spreading as he freed himself, stepping closer, his thick head brushing her parted lips.
Max slammed into her with the furious, controlled violence of a ninth-inning fastball, his hips pistoning against her bare ass perched on the vinyl edge, each brutal thrust making her heavy breasts bounce wildly. Hazel gasped, her lips stretching wide around Schneider’s thick cockhead pushing past her teeth, her voice a wet, desperate rasp around him: "Fuck, Max, pound my dripping cunt harder—your huge cock feels so fucking good—Schneid, shove it deeper, baby, I need all of you down my throat!" Her eyes rolled back, lost in the raw sensation of being utterly filled and used, the locker room's roar a distant thrum against the sharp slap of skin and her own filthy, breathless promises. "Can't wait to feel every fucking inch of you guys," she moaned, saliva slicking Schneider's shaft as she sucked harder, "stuff me full—all these monster cocks—God, yes—make me take it all!"
Schneider’s cock pulsed thickly deep in her throat throat as her eyes rolled back, her head, mouth gaping wide open in a silent scream of pure, unhinged surrender the reserved broadcaster completely erased. She wanted everyone to see this, wanted them to know she was a desperate, cock slut., Max’s brutal thrusts slammed her hips forward, forcing Schneider’s shaft slam deeper,, choking her wetly even as her hips pushed back harder,, taking Mad Max grunted harder, his hands digging bruises into her hips. hips. "Fuck,, Hazel,, that’s it," Max grunted between gritted teeth, teeth, "take it all like the fucking fuckhole we are making you,” his hips pistoning with brutal precision,, each drive drive forcing Schneider deeper deeper. deeper.