So as not to raise alarm throughout the club premises, Thieago came up on the bench between Gustavo and me, hunched down a bit, grabbed the back of my head in his hands, and forced my mouth onto his gigantic cock. I did what I could to envelop his cock, but he was so long and thick that I could get less than half of it in my mouth. Some semblance of calm eventually came to the scene, which now was dominated by grunting, groaning, moaning, and sighing times six. Gustavo took my cock in his hand and treated it like the joy stick on his favorite sports car and was rewarded with three spurts of cum that were almost simultaneously coordinated with Gustavo’s and Raimondo’s ejaculations.
So, I had said I would take on the whole Brazilian soccer team, and this was what that was like. I must admit that it was more than a bit all right with me—certainly better than whatever Pete had planned for me this afternoon.
When most of us with cocks in play—Thieago still holding his shootoff—had cum with great shouts of abandon and release, the various hands and cocks that were handling me disappeared. I collapsed, belly down, on the bench, and I heard happy chattering decreasing in volume as the Brazilian soccer team hit the showers, another stunning victory under its collective belts. Well, most of the team that is. When I was able to lift my weary head and chest from the surface of the bench, I saw that the giant Thieago was still there, giving me the eye, waving that monster cock at me.
With a big grin, he turned me on the back of the bench, spread my legs with strong arms and worked that huge cock inside my now-gaping asshole. With just one cock, he was stretching me more than Gustavo’s and Raimondo’s two cocks had been able to manage. I stretched my arms down and back and held tightly onto the legs of the bench as Thieago rode me hard, long, and deep—and to our great mutual satisfaction. I had no questions as to who the captain of this soccer squad was.