Meeting the Team

*****Refer back to part 1 for context. This story takes place in a free-use world, where women's use by men—all men—is normal, consensual, and widely accepted. All characters are over 18.****

It had been a long but satisfying first day at Free U. I had spent the better part of the afternoon underneath Jag's desk with his cock in my mouth, diligently milking it whenever he got bored or distracted in class and fished it out from his pants and wedged it between my lips.

His friends had gotten their opportunity to look me over, congratulating Jag on his luck. At one point in the hallways between classes, he'd been showing me off to a group of guys, my panties down around my ankles.

"She's got a pretty great asshole," Jag had said, pushing my legs apart. "Bend over and show them, Alice," he'd said. I smiled and bent over, pulling my cheeks apart to expose my cute pink asshole to all of them.

"Woah," they said, exchanging expectant looks.

Jag had licked an index finger and stuck it in to demonstrate it to them. Fortunately, I had trained my asshole extensively over the summer—dad had insisted on butt plugs being worn around the house and had taken the liberty of bending me over and stretching me out with his cock at least once a week.

"Can I?" one of the guys had asked.

Jag tapped my ass lightly. "Help yourself."

They all took turns sticking wet fingers in my ass as far as they could go, up to the knuckles, wiggling them around inside of me. I couldn't help how wet it had made my pussy, my asshole winking at them in anticipation, begging for them to just stick it in.

Everything was going better than I expected—I liked Jag well enough, his gruff nature growing on me over the course of the day. I still felt a pang of sadness or jealousy when I remembered that this hadn't been my first choice, but I was determined to make the best of it. The only thing worse than being stuck with a team I didn't particularly like was being stuck without one at all. So when I walked into the gym with Jag that afternoon, I felt determined to win his teammates over, to make this assignment work—and I felt genuinely confident I could do so.

But there was one problem that became apparent as soon as I entered the place: it smelled

awful

. I wasn't sure anymore if they would win

me

over smelling like this. It was a stale combination of sweat, must, and the raging hormones of twenty grown men.

Heavy, angry metal music coming from huge speakers shook the walls, and everywhere there were guys wrestling one another, sparring, screaming at no one in particular. I looked down at my pink ankle socks: I was incredibly, laughably, out of place. But I had to admit, there was something erotic about all of the aggressive energy around me. I felt totally powerless, a little afraid of what might happen when all these jacked-up men got a chance to put their hands on me, but also more than a little curious to see what would happen.

As I stood at the doorway of the gym, taking everything in, I watched Jag disappear into the fray, leaving me behind.

I tried to appear as if I belonged, stuffing my backpack into one of the plastic cubbies by the door, rearranging my ponytail, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I was attempting to look eager and easygoing, but it was hard to hide the growing sense of anxiety I felt about what I should expect. What was I going to spend the next hour and a half doing? Was Jag going to leave me by myself this whole time? It felt absurd and pathetic, but I couldn't help but wonder if the other guys would even

like

me, how I would fit in here. Surely I wouldn't have to pretend to be interested in the actual fighting.

I found a small bench in the corner of the gym and sat down, trying not to look out of place. I could see Jag greeting a group of guys in the corner; they all laughed and slapped one another on the back. They were talking amongst themselves, but the roar of voices in the gym made it impossible to decipher what they were saying. Eventually, I saw Jag wave me over.

He pulled me beside him and presented me to the group. "Alice, this is Cal, my co-captain. If you don't know what to do, just ask him, okay?" I felt like a little kid on the first day of school, being handed off from one minder to another.

I stuck out my hand to shake Cal's. He grabbed my hand in his and twirled me around, lifting up the hem of my shirt with a finger, letting my heavy breasts fall from the fabric. My huge nipples gleamed under the harsh gym light fixtures and hardened into stiff points. He took one between his fingers and pinched it, tugging on it until I squealed in pain. He let out a small groan of approval in return.

He was tall like Jag, and strong, with a long, dark beard and thick black hair pulled back at the nape of his neck. His expression hardly changed as he pulled my shirt back down and turned to the other two guys standing to his right, dropping my hand.

The two guys looked dumbfounded, staring back and forth between me and Cal anxiously. One's eyes bulged out of his head.

"You mean we can

all

fuck her...

any time

we want to?" one of them asked, trying to hide the swelling in his pants. They turned to each other and snickered in glee.

I looked them over: they looked younger, significantly younger, than Jag and Cal. They were probably first years, like me. Still, though, they were guys I would have chosen to fuck, that is, if I had the choice. I looked around and contemplated my unexpected luck: I had hardly imagined the boxing team, of all teams, would be the jackpot of sexy, jacked men who looked like they would fuck me cross-eyed and stupid.

"Well, that's how it works," I said, trying to look appealing and available.

Cal kept his gaze steady on me, but his eyes were impenetrable; I couldn't read him. Jag seemed easy enough to please—suck his dick, present my holes for fucking and he'd be happy—but Cal was meaner, hard, and it seemed like he had absolutely no interest in my presence here.

"Jake and Wilson," he said to me, his voice gruff and quick. "They're first years. If I had to guess, I'd say you will spend a lot of your time here with them."

I had the instinct that Cal was right; I had talked to a couple of senior girls about what to expect at the school, and they had explained that by the time guys are seniors, they're usually less...enthusiastic about the free-use girls assigned to them. The first-year guys were really the ones to prepare yourself for: young, full of come, and constantly horny, they would take every opportunity to drain their balls into you day and night. The novelty of it all had not yet worn off for them, and they had perpetually stiff boners that hardly ever went down.

Jag and Cal whispered briefly to one another, gathered up their belongings, and headed into the center of the gym, where there was a raised platform with a boxing ring. I turned to look at Jake and Wilson; I could tell they were nervous, working up the courage to make a move, but I could see how hard they were, the tips of their massive cocks peeking out from the sides of their shorts.

"So, we just..." one of them started, eyeing me hungrily.

"Fuck me," I finished. I watched Cal as he walked away, the gleaming muscles in his back clenching and tensing as he moved. He glanced over his shoulder at me, briefly, giving me a look that almost said, "Good luck."

The taller one of the two—Jake I think—felt emboldened now and wrapped his hands around my waist, rubbing his boner up against me. The other—Wilson?—palmed my boobs over my shirt, squeezing them roughly and squishing them together. "Fuck, okay, where should we go?"

Once I gave them the go-ahead, all of their shyness disappeared, and was replaced with the frantic horniness of ravenous teenage boys. They pulled me into a corner of the gym that was cluttered with mats and folding chairs.

"Can I...uhm...fuck your mouth?" one asked. I enthusiastically got down on my knees and presented myself to him. They both then proceeded to whip their engorged cocks out of their shorts and wag them in my face, competing for my attention. As I worked them one at a time, I could hear them whispering back and forth to each other, "Oh my god, this is actually happening!" and "This is so cool!"

A couple of their teammates came over to stretch on the mats next to us, glancing over to passively watch the action. I could feel Wilson and Jake's hesitation as if they had gotten caught doing something wrong, almost starting to put their dicks away, before remembering that this was perfectly normal, basically a nonevent for guys that had been on the team longer than a year.

I could feel their excitement building as they realized the endless possibilities of this arrangement where I couldn't say no. Jake suddenly knelt down behind me and yanked down my shorts, exposing my pussy to the whole gym, though only a few guys were watching.

He hesitated for a moment, asking me, "Can I.... I can just fuck you?" I felt the cool air of the gym tickling my exposed clit. Knowing that everyone could see my pink pussy—already wet and begging to be fucked—only turned me on even more. I stuck my ass out further and tried to enunciate through a mouthful of cock, "Of course!"

He slid in easily and I could hear his breath catch as he felt my tight pussy clinch around him. He began eagerly fucking my cunt, hammering into me with excitement as his teammates stretched and talked about their days only inches away, looking over from time to time to watch me take the dicks fucking me on either end.

One of the guys watching leaned over and started talking to Jake, who was grunting in pleasure behind me. "Jake, you coming to the tournament on Saturday?"

Jake tried to compose himself. He stuttered through half-gasps as he strained against me, trying to bury himself as far as he could in my guts.

"Uh...yeah...I mean...yes, I think—I think so."

Wilson fucked my mouth diligently, deeply, making sure he got every inch of his member into my wet throat. I could feel both of them thrusting in and out of me—one cock reaching fully into my throat while one pulled out of my cunt, then going back in as the cock in my throat pulled away in a kind of mesmerizing rhythm. I felt my eyes roll back into my head, succumbing to the dumb, thoughtless pleasure of being filled up. I wasn't close to orgasm—they were far too inexperienced, their pacing was erratic and Jake didn't have the motions or pressure right—but I felt them both inch closer and closer to their finish line. I was lost in the pleasurable sounds of their moans and our sweaty bodies slapping together when I heard my name being called and snapped out of my trance.

"Alice. Where is she?" I heard Cal say from the other side of the gym. "I need a hole to fuck before my fight." Cal was covered in sweat, his hair hanging down in damp strands that clung to his angular jaw. He walked over, wiping his face with a towel.

"Hey, kids, playtime is over," he said, eyeing the clock. "I've only got five minutes."

Wilson gripped my hair, stuffing my face further into his crotch. "Cal, bro, please, we've only had her for a few minutes." He kept thrusting, a mixture of throaty spit and precum filling my mouth. I looked up at Cal and shrugged my shoulders—at this point, it would probably be better to just let them finish. It seemed that Cal and I could have full conversations by just exchanging looks.

He rolled his eyes, smiling down at me. "Fine, but be quick. And hey—" he pointed at Jake. "No coming in her, okay?"

Jake nodded, pumped me full of his cock a few more times as Cal looked on, and pulled out, spraying my ass cheeks with a massive load of spunk that ran down my thighs in a warm stream. He gasped for breath behind me, sneaking his softening cock back in for a few more precious seconds while Wilson attempted to empty himself into my mouth, but there was so much come that it ended up spilling out all over my face, coating my cheeks and lips and running down my chin.

Wilson patted the top of my head awkwardly, clearly unsure of what to do next, and the two boys quietly and quickly put on their clothes, muttering, "Thanks," as they scurried off to revel in what had just happened.

I wiped the come from my face-as best I could—and made a motion to get up to present myself to Cal for fucking. But before I knew what was happening, Cal had lifted me off the ground and wrapped my legs around his hips. In one quick motion—wasting no time—he lowered me onto him, sitting me down on his already-hard, exposed cock.

I threw my arms around his neck and tightened the grip of my thighs around his middle, but after a moment, I realized it was totally unnecessary: he could have thrown me all around the gym without effort at all. Fucking me while standing was nothing for him.

As he began to slide in and out of me, he walked over to the rough concrete wall behind us and pushed my back up against it, propping himself up with one arm while he slowly split me in half. I felt the muscles in his body, twitching from previous exertion, relax, and he let a huge sigh escape his mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head, and for a moment he rested his forehead up against the wall, totally lost in the release of sinking into me.

I could feel the fat head of his dick pushing up against my cervix with every thrust, making me dig my nails into the back of his neck. He scowled down at me, just as emotionless as he'd been before. I could feel that I was just a hole to him—a way to relax before his fight, a warm place to deposit a load. I knew it shouldn't, but the thought of him using me like that couldn't help but turn me on. I was a girl who was trained well; I knew that pleasing him came first and foremost, but I couldn't stop myself from pressing down onto him, hoping he would let me come too.

I felt the walls of my pussy expanding and contracting, his cock pressing up against my insides.

At a certain point, I knew I was going to come, and so did everyone in the gym: a small group of guys had gathered behind Cal, drawn in by the obscene moans that were involuntarily coming out of my mouth. Some gawked openly, seemingly amazed by how much I was enjoying myself. A few just stood around admiring the scene, and a few others touched themselves absentmindedly, gripping their growing cocks through their shorts.

I felt myself totally surrender into Cal's arms, every muscle in my body incapacitated as I rode out wave after wave of an orgasm so deep and full it made my eyesight go blurry. He just held on to me, plunging his cock into me methodically, not caring whether or not it was hurting me or making me come.

Soon enough, while I was dazed and limp and had enjoyed every last second of my orgasm, Cal came deep inside of me, pushing himself as far up into me as he could. I felt the slippery wetness of his come coating my cervix, his cock slipping around in the mixed juices that were gushing out of me and onto the mats beneath us.

When he set me down, my legs buckled beneath me, but he caught me. I looked up at him: there was a flicker of compassion, or care, or some kind of fondness I hadn't noticed before. He held me there for a moment before lifting up my chin between his two fingers and asking me, "You good?"

I steadied myself against the wall, globs of drool falling cartoonishly from my mouth. I needed to compose myself. "Good, yes. I'm good," I said, suddenly feeling conscious of the numerous pairs of eyes on me around the gym, the casual onlookers watching me stand there, naked and dripping come, totally spent.

"Good," Cal said, squeezing my middle. "Wouldn't want our girl to tap out on the first day." He gave me a little smile and a pat on my ass.

My stomach filled with butterflies:

our girl

, I thought.

I'm already *their* girl.