Date: Wed, 27 May 2015 13:17:47 +0200
From: Don Major <donmajor@gmx.com>
Subject: Learning to Love Sports

This story is a complete fiction.  It never happened and I don't condone
what it depicts. It's purely for enjoyment of adult gay men.  If you
don't like stories of inter generational sex, look away now.  And please
donate to nifty...we all loved the stories, so keep it cumming!


Learning to Love Sports


As a boy, I always hated sports.  Football, cricket, tennis...anything
with balls and a need to compete.  It's ironic, now, saying that I hated
anything with balls... but I'm still not that keen on competing.  But
hate it I did -  the way it showed up my lack of coordination and
inability to get stuck into the rough and tumble of physical activity,
the way it left me feeling useless and inadequate.  I was always a geeky
boy - I preferred sitting in the library reading a book to being outside.
 As a result, I wasn't exactly well built - instead, I was a shrimpy
little thing, not much muscle definition or strength.  I hated being
outside in the cold and wet, getting pushed around and covered in mud.
 Sport for me equalled misery.
But as a young pupil at an English boarding school, where I was sent from
an early age, I was faced with a daily assault-course of gym, rugby,
soccer, cricket, swimming, cross country runs - anything to toughen us up
and make us into real men.  I suspect that the real reason there was so
much sport was that the teaching was so bad they tried to keep us quiet
by exhausting us in whatever way they could.
However, my hatred of sport was so strong that in my first year at
school, I spent most of my time hiding during any periods when I was
supposed to be outside.  Whenever my class was changing for rugby or
swimming - I'd head off to the music school and pretend I had a piano
lesson.  This worked for quite a while:  for at least four terms, I was
never questioned about my absence.  Which just goes to show how much they
really cared about any of us, or even noticed that we existed...
But you  can only hide for so long and my luck ran out eventually and I
got a message from a teacher saying that Mr Hunt, the sports teacher,
wanted to see me at the sports centre immediately.  At first I tried my
usual trick of just ignoring it.  But I couldn't avoid it for ever:
eventually my house master cornered me and said "You've been skipping
games, and if you don't go and see Mr Hunt, we'll be contacting your
parents."  They had me cornered.
I walked nervously over to the sports centre, a modern building on the
other side of the school grounds from where we boarders lived.  Even the
sight of it made my stomach churn.  And as I pushed open the door, the
smell of a gym hit me - a kind of rubbery/sweaty/bleachy smell that I
associated with sport.  What people saw in sport, I just couldn't work
out.  For me a nice quiet walk in the countryside was fine: kicking balls
around a pitch, or getting stuck in a scrum, just seemed terrifying.
I knocked at the door which had Mr Hunt's name on it.  "Come!", he
shouted as I timidly rapped.
"You wanted to see me sir", I said, quietly.
"And who are you?" he replied?
"Brown, sir" - we were always addressed by our surnames and never our
first names.  So far I'd only seen Mr Hunt from a distance, a young, fit
looking man, tall and obviously well muscled from all the training and
workouts he did.  Close up, in his office, with its internal window
overlooking the main gym, he seemed enormous to me.
"Ah yes!  The elusive Brown", he shot back. "We've missed you young man -
I don't think I've ever seen you in one of my lessons, have I?  Where on
earth have you been hiding away?"
"I've had piano lessons, sir", I tried.
"Now, don't try that one on me, Brown.  There are four sports sessions a
week, and you only get one piano lesson every two weeks.  I want to know,
honestly, where you've been hiding?"
"Um, the toilets, sir." I replied, feebly, feeling myself blush with
shame.
"The toilets, eh?  Well you must be pretty fed up with sitting all alone
in the toilets by now surely!  What are you afraid of anyway?"
"Nothing sir".  I couldn't even put into words what my fears were - but
then, to be fair, I was very young.
"Well, what are we going to do with you I wonder?  A young boy like you
needs building up - you need to have exercise, not just sit around
reading and moping all day. Look at you - you look far too skinny for a
boy your age!"
As he was talking, Mr Hunt came out from behind his desk and sat on the
edge of it facing me.  He was wearing a red polo shirt, emblazoned with
the school crest, and blue tracksuit bottoms, and white trainers.  He
must have been, I suppose, about 35 - blonde hair, blue eyes.  I could
see fine blonde hair all along his forearms, which looked muscly and
strong.
He sat, perched on his desk, with his hands in the pockets of his
tracksuit - legs splayed wide apart.
"You know, Brown, I can't just let you get away with this.  You've been a
very naughty boy and we can't just let naughty boys do whatever they
want, can we?  If everyone decided that they didn't want to do sport, I'd
be out of a job you know!"  He chuckled, but he looked straight at me
with an unsettling gaze.
"So I'm afraid I'm going to have to punish you. I simply don't have a
choice.  But I can give you an option about how I punish you...."
I looked up at him.  By now I was beginning to dread what was coming.
 Surely I was going to either get caned, or expelled, or made to do
something awful.  I felt myself going red in the face as I awaited my
fate.
"So - here's your choice", Mr Hunt said.  And as he said this, he stood
up, and came to stand very, very close to me.
"Either you spend the next five lunchtimes over here in the gym, doing an
hour of hard physical activity, with me watching you from my window here
to make sure you don't slack off... or...", and he stepped right up to me
so that my face was almost touching his stomach, "...or you can just suck
me off right here and now."
And with that, he pulled the front of his tracksuit bottoms down with his
right hand, and then with his left, reached behind my head and pulled me
down onto his briefs, which were holding in a massive, hard cock.
I was so shocked, I jumped back and said "No!" in as loud a voice as I'd
ever hear come out of my young voice.  "No, sir", I repeated...backing
towards the door.
But he was fast and quickly stepped behind me, reaching the door and
firmly turning the lock.  He stood with his back to the door, with his
cock exposed now - it must have been a good 7.5 inches and it was
absolutely rigid.  His balls - big, heavy and covered in more of that
fine blonde hair - swung grossly as he moved towards me again.
"Come on, Brown - if you hate sports as much as you say you do, then
surely this must be a good alternative?  Get over here now and suck me
off..."
I remained frozen to the spot.  The colour had completely drained from my
cheeks, and I could feel myself beginning to shake with fear.  The sight
of a grown man's erect penis was shocking to me - I'd never seen one
before and it looked brutal, enormous, obscene.  I felt tears begin to
well up in my eyes.
"Look, Brown, it's either this and it's over in 10 minutes, or you spend
the next week here every lunchtime, and I'll make sure you suffer", Mr
Hunt said.  He edged towards me and I can still remember the squeak that
his trainers made on the polished floor as he moved.   He was standing
right in front of me, and the tip of his cock was literally centimetres
from my forehead.  His penis, engorged and veiny, throbbed and he stepped
right up to me so that it was now touching my head.  I was frozen to the
spot.  He put his hands behind my head, and gently pulled my hair so that
my head tilted up so that now my mouth was actually touching the shaft of
his cock.
"Well, I don't hear you saying that you'll opt for the gym option, so I'm
assuming that you're going for the cock option instead.  Good boy - I
think we'll get on just fine."  And with that, my choice, it seems, was
made for me.  He started to gently hump his cock against my face, rubbing
the shaft along my nose, pulling back so that the sticky bellend rested
there, with a trail of his precum running from my forehead to the tip of
my nose.
"Yeah, that's it, Brown", he murmered.  "Good boy - now come on and open
up nice and wide for me".
I could resist no longer.  He had me in his power.  Terrified and ashamed
and disgusted at the same time, I opened my mouth.
"Wider, Brown - come on, all the way" he said.
I opened my mouth as wide as I possibly could.  I could feel my jaw
aching from the stretch.  I looked up into his eyes, past his cock - he
was staring down at me with his blue eyes piercing into mine.  He
suddenly opened his mouth and a long dribble of spit descended directly
into my mouth.  I gagged immediately, and tried to spit it out.
"No, no, Brown", he said.  "Whatever I put in there stays there unless I
say so, OK? Let's try that again.  Open up for me."
By now I was in tears.  I was terrified.  This man who I'd never met
before was standing semi-naked so close to me I could feel the heat of
his crotch, his massive, hard penis bouncing against my face, and
spitting into my mouth.  I felt a horror and disgust that I couldn't
begin to express - but I was trapped.  I had no choice.  I opened my
mouth.
"Yeah, that's it Brown", he said, and this time hawked a great gob of
spit into my mouth, and then he reached down and closed my mouth, rubbing
my throat so that, in effect, I was forced to swallow.  "Mmmm, nice", he
murmured.  And then, "Come on, open again"... and as I did so, I felt the
great hot wet width of his cock pushing into my mouth.
"Nnngggghhhh" I cried.  I felt my eyes bulging.  I couldn't breathe.  His
cock was massive and he was pushing it right into my mouth, down into my
throat.  "Mmmmnnnghggghh!!!"
He pulled right out quickly - I gulped in some air - but then he was back
in.  Forcing himself right into my mouth and throat.  I could literally
feel his cock going down inside me and I was seeing stars, almost
blacking out.  He had his hands on the back of my head and he was pulling
me hard onto himself - my lips were stretched so tight I thought they
would split.  And then suddenly, I felt his balls against my chin -
hanging there, loose and heavy.  "Mmmmmmmm!" - and then he was out - I
gasped and cried out "Please sir, I can't breathe!"... but once again, he
was invading me, starting to build up a rhythm.  I looked up at him:
without my realising it  he had taken his polo shirt off, revealing a
taught, hairless torso and chest, and now he pulled his tracksuit down
around his ankles - and he was totally oblivious to me.  He was just
fucking my mouth, hard, deep and repeatedly - fucking my young mouth with
his fat man dick, so that I could hardly breathe and the only thing I was
aware of was the pounding of his cock, and the trail of cum that dangled
from my lips to his cockhead everytime he pulled out.
Then he bent over and pulled my shirt open with one hard yank - and then
with another, he pulled it away from my body, leaving me half naked apart
from the tie he had left behind.  I was wearing school uniform - shirt
and tie and shorts, with grey socks and black shoes.  The ridiculous
thought went through my mind:  "What will mum say when I tell her I've
ripped my shirt?"  And then he reached down and firmly and swiftly with
both hands ripped my shorts up the back seam, quickly sliding a hand in
and starting to feel my cheeks.  I was absolutely terrified.  If this was
what missing sport could lead to, I sorely wished I had gone along to
those games of rugby with the other boys.  Surely noone else had to
endure what I was being put through now?
On and on he pounded, his massive penis invading my mouth, and I was
gagging and choking loudly - spewing out a mixture of spit and cum as I
tried to gulp in air after being suffocated by his cock.  I was desperate
for it to stop, tears flowing freely, wishing, wishing I was at home,
somewhere safe and along...And suddenly it did stop.  But it wasn't over.
 He manhandled me over to his desk, literallly lifting me off my feet,
 carrying me behind it, and lay me across the leather chair he had been
sitting on when I first came in to his office.  Face down, I found myself
looking out through the window overlooking the gym where I could see
other boys on various pieces of apparatus, and one or two other teachers
also using the gym in their lunch-break.  They were oblivious to what was
happening only feet away from them.
"Now, let's finish this, Brown", I heard Mr Hunt say, his voice sounding
odd - thick and rasping.  As he pushed me down, I felt his hand roughly
pull the remains of my shorts off me, I heard the rip of material as he
completely split the waistband, and then with another rip, my white
briefs  - leaving me completely naked, my bum exposed, open to his eyes,
with only the blue and red school tie still round my neck.
I heard the squeak of his trainers as he manoevered himself into position
behind me.  And I saw his tracksuit bottoms hit the floor next to the
chair where I was being held face down.  Now he was naked too, apart from
this trainers...
"Fuck me, Brown, you deserve this you know", I heard him say.  "You've
been a really naughty boy, missing so many lessons.  You need to learn
you just can't do what the hell you like.  I'm teaching you an important
lesson boy - every action has its consequences.  And this is what you get
when just try to please yourself."
By now I was crying loudly.  I couldn't help myself.  I felt totally
humiliated and embarrassed and exposed, lying naked in this man's office,
aware that he was completely naked too.  I had no way of escaping, and
all I could do was hope that somehow this would be over very, very soon.
But suddenly, I felt a hard, rough slap on my bum.  "Aahh!" I cried.
 Another slap, then another.  It really, really hurt but the shock of it
made me stop crying - I lay there gulping for air.  I half turned to look
at him - he was stood right behind me, legs spread, with his cock jutting
strongly out, a dribble of clear liquid drooling towards me.  Again a
slap.  "No, please!", I cried, "please sir..."  Tears started again and
soon I was sobbing uncontrollably.  And still he continued to slap me.
"This is for your good, Brown.  It's the only way you'll ever learn to do
what is right."
Another slap.  And then he had a hand on both of my buttocks, and he was
pulling them roughly apart.
"Mmmmm, look at that!" he said.  "Fucking beautiful boy cunt.  Just what
I've been hungry for all morning."
And now, to my amazement and shock, I felt his tongue, his hot, wet, fat
tongue, licking slowly up the crack between my cheeks.  The contrast with
the slaps was bewildering.  He was licking hard, repeatedly up and down,
and then jabbing the tip of his tongue against my hole.  The sensation
was - odd, but also strangely pleasurable.  The contrast with the hard
slaps and this hard licking was confusing to me... and I still felt
terribly embarrassed and exposed.
"mmmmmmmnnnnggghhhh" I head his moaning as he continued to lick me.  He
 pulled back, slurping: "Fuck yeah!  Beautiful boy ass!  Mmmm you taste
so fucking good, Brown!"  And then he was back to it and the force of his
licking actually pushed me to the edge of the chair so that I was looking
back underneath it.  I could see him squatting down, legs wide apart,
feet in his trainers, and I could see his hand rubbing his massive cock
hard, up and down.    Mr Hunt, our school sport teacher, naked in his
office, masturbating while he licked my boicunt hard - he was totally,
totally into it, and was completely unconcerned about how I was
feeling... Now he stood up.  Picked me up again - he was so strong and I
was so small that resistance was completely futile  - and sat down
heavily on his chair, pulling me onto him so that I was sitting in his
lap.  His cock sprang up behind me as I sat facing him in his chair - I
could feel its heat and stickiness against my back.  He was grinning
widely, showing perfect white teeth.
"That's it, Brown - you're getting the hang of this aren't you?" he
smirked, and looked down at my small cock which, unbeknownst to me, had
taken on a life of its own.  It was standing up, small, but erect - I
could not pretend otherwise.  Mr Hunt reached down and started to rub it
- he was very gentle, pulling my small foreskin back and exposing the
tiny cockhead, pink against the whiteness of my body.  "Mmmm, good boy -
looks like you're enjoying this too".  And with that, he leant forward
and stuck his tongue into my mouth, locking our lips and pulling my head
towards him. Before I knew what was happening, we were kissing - or
rather, he was kissing me - his fat, wet tongue now invading my mouth,
and making me feel like I would choke again.  And as he was rubbing me he
began to rub his own cock too - I could feel the blur of his hand against
my back as he jacked his penis ferociously.  I was trapped there - my
legs around his waist, his tongue in my mouth, and his penis trailing
copious amounts of cum down my back.
Suddenly he pulled his tongue out of my voice, leant back in the chair
and started to moan: "Oh yes, fuck yes, yes, yessssssss!" - and in a
flash he upended me so that my face was in his crotch, his dick shooting
a huge load of cum straight onto my face, as he once again buried his
face in my bum.  He continued to moan as his tongue resumed licking my
hole.  "Mmmmm, ahhhhh" I heard him groaning... and he reached down to his
cock and pulled it right against my lips.  "Open wide Brown" he said. By
now I knew better than to resist and although I was appalled, my mouth
opened and I swallowed his jizz covered dick, feeling it slide easily
down my throat,  tasting the salty, hot, sticky cum on my lips.
He leant back in the chair, and he was covered in sweat, but grinning
widely.  Now I was sitting on his lap again, and he gently pulled on the
tie that was still round my neck - the only remains of the school uniform
I'd been wearing when I entered his office just half an hour ago.  He
grinned at me.  "Now, isn't that better than sports, Brown?"
As he dressed himself again, and handed me a pair of gym shorts and a
t-shirt to get into, he smiled at me.  Once more, he perched on the edge
of his desk, legs spread wide, his trainers still squeaking on the floor
as he moved.
"So, Brown, welcome to the world of sex sport", he said.  "I think I've
just recruited our newest member to the men versus boys sexatholon event.
 That's a special kind of sport that only a few special boys are allowed
to do. It's hard work, but very rewarding.  You can expect to train up
for four hours a week, and there are several teachers who will handle the
training.  Of course, if you tell anyone about this you'll be in serious
trouble - you might even get expelled - so it's best just to be a good
boy and do what you're told.  The trainers will be in touch with you
quite soon, and you should always do what you're told.  The more you
comply, the easier the training.  You can go now.  But not a word to
anyone, and don't think this is the last you'll be seeing of me
either...."
As I let myself out of his office, I noticed that the other teachers I'd
seen when I was spread-eagled on the chair in Mr Hunt's study were just
coming out of the gym - they'd been in for a lunchtime workout.  There
was a young boy with them, someone from the year below me, a new boy to
the school too.  One of the teachers had his hand on his shoulder,
steering his forwards, but even so I could distinctly make out the shape
of an erect penis beneath the teacher's shorts.  When they saw me ,and
what I was wearing, they winked at me: "I see you've been in with Mr
Hunt", one of them said, pushing a hand into the pocket of his shorts as
he did so and quite unashamedly rubbing his cock.  "Well, it's always
good to know he's found new material for us to work on.  See you soon!"
 I exchanged glances with the other boy who had gone bright red in the
face.  He smiled weakly at me as he was led away by the two men.
I wandered back to school, feeling scared, alone, embarrassed - and yet
at the same time, strangely excited.  What was this training they were
talking about? Who else was involved?  When would the next time be?  I
was soon to find out....


If you've enjoyed this story, let me know!  Donmajor@gmx.com