Date: Fri, 22 Oct 2004 01:05:34 -0500 From: Cameron Coppinger Subject: Brandon's Secret ch. 6 (m/t) Brandon's Secret Chapter 6 (m/t) by Cameron Coppinger This is a fictional story from only my imagination. It is erotic gay fiction. If you are under 18 or these materials offend you or your community values, please stop reading now and close this window. Brandon's Secret Chapter 6 (m/t) The night before the Sunset Valley -- Buchanan game, I posted the starting line-up in the locker room. Brandon, of course, was starting in the center midfield. Bobby was not a starter, but I expected I would use him some in the game, to see how he stacked up against the big boys. I heard the players discuss the line-up excitedly in the locker room and as they left the gym that night. I slept fitfully, as I always do before the season opener. It was a perfect day for soccer, as we loaded the bus to head across town to Buchanan's stadium. 70 degrees, mostly sunny with a light breeze, the weather definitely was smiling on us. The bus ride was uncharacteristically quiet. When you are playing the number 6 team in the state, particularly when they are in a higher classification, it tends to focus you. I hoped they were thinking about the game plan, rather than an impending loss. I had made a decision that we were going to play them straight up. Rather than go to a defensive alignment, we were going to play our game and see how we stacked up. None of the freshmen were starting, but all of them were going to play. Otherwise, I would have left them on JV to play the entire game. As we unloaded and headed to the visitor's dressing room, everyone was still silent. I opened the door and noticed an envelope addressed to me on the coach's desk. As the players changed into their uniforms, I opened it and read the note from my mentor. "Good luck today, I am sure you will give us all we can handle. Don't forget, we are going out for a beer afterwards." As we took the field to warm up, our execution was crisp and everyone was focused. Our forwards were hitting their warm up shots well and Brandon was leading the midfielders through some well-played possession games. The referee called for captains and Brandon walked to midfield alone. Buchanan sent three seniors up as captains. They shook hands. We won the toss and took the side that would not have sun in the keeper's eyes. By the time we switched at half, the sun would be behind the stadium. Butterflies churned in my stomach, and I am sure many of the players' as well, as the opening whistle signified the start of the match. The first half developed slowly. Both teams seemed to be feeling each other out and unwilling to take risks. Buchanan held the ball most of the half. Every time they attempted to push the ball forward our defenders and midfielders shut down their target players. Eventually, they became frustrated and tried to knock the ball over the top of our defense. Our keeper was quick off his line and snagged most of the long balls. In the other cases, our speedy sweeper picked up the ball first and tried to play it out of the back. In the closing minutes of the first half, they sent another ball over the top, which our sweeper headed back to midfield, where Brandon controlled it. Turning quickly, he slipped a pass to his outside midfielder who quickly pushed the ball into the space ahead of him. On the opposite side of the field, one of the forwards had made a wide run and called for the ball. The outside mid saw him and sent a long pass through the air right to his feet. As the entire defense swarmed to the opposite side of the field to snuff out the threat, our forward took two touches and sent a pass back to Brandon at the top of the 18. Brandon knew he had no time and struck it first time. The ball screamed toward the upper corner of the goal. Buchanan's all-state goalkeeper flung himself into the air, and at the last possible moment parried the ball to the side, setting up a corner kick for us. They cleared the corner and moments later the first half ended with the game scoreless. As we headed back to the locker room, our players were animated and confident. Brandon had produced the best scoring chance of the half. The Buchanan team walked slowly back to their locker room, saying almost nothing. As I closed the locker room door, I quieted the team. "This is no time to celebrate boys," I reminded them, "the game lasts 80 minutes, and we are only half way through. Buchanan is getting an ass chewing right now and when they take the field, they are going to come out strong. You decide if you are happy with a good half or if you want to play a complete game." The room went silent and we talked about what adjustments to expect and how we would react. As the second half started, Buchanan was a team with a mission. They had no intent of losing their first game to the upstart 4A school from across town. They attacked relentlessly. Our defenders were on their heels from the whistle. I watched my team adjust. Brandon dropped back defensively and helped out. The effect, however, was that we lost the midfield, and every ball we cleared was returned back for a fresh attack. Eight minutes in, one of the junior defenders lost his footing and was beaten down the flank. A sharp cross was headed home for the first goal by Buchanan. Ten minutes later, a late tackle by our sweeper led to a Buchanan penalty kick. In 20 minutes we had gone from sniffing an upset to trailing 2-0 and on the bad side of momentum. You learn a lot about your team when they face adversity. I learned that day, that this team was going to be a playoff team. After the second goal, I saw Brandon call all the players in to him. Ignoring the referee who was commanding us to restart the game, our quiet captain suddenly found his voice. I couldn't make out the words, but the body language was clear. Our forwards dropped the kickoff back to Brandon who single handedly beat three Buchanan defenders and found a forward on an inside run. The pass was perfect and the shot whizzed just past the post for what seemed like our first shot of the half. A relieved Buchanan goalkeeper retrieved the ball, but the damage was done and we were back in the game. We battled relentlessly. With just under 12 minutes left, Brandon sent a cross in. Bobby, who had entered the game in relief of a senior forward, chested it past his mark and showed that he did, indeed, have varsity speed. Racing by his defender to the rolling ball, Bobby struck it just under the diving keeper, and the score was 2-1. Mobbed in celebration, Bobby's first varsity goal ignited our team even further. I looked over to the home bench to see my mentor agitated and gesturing to his substitutes. Three subs entered for Buchanan and I smiled as I realized Buchanan was going to bunker in and try to survive the last ten minutes against us. Brandon had played without a break and when I asked him if he needed a rest he gestured dismissively to me. The next ten minutes was all Sunset Valley. We attacked and shot. Buchanan's keeper showed why he was all-state as a junior as he turned away shot after shot. Minutes remained, as we continued to attack. Bobby beat a man with the ball, but, facing three more defenders, dropped it back to Brandon. Brandon, with the moves that had marked his playing career, juked one defender and burst into the penalty area. Two defenders converged on him, one from each side, as he prepared to shoot. Almost simultaneously with the shot, both defenders hit him, one high, one low, as the shot was saved yet again by the Buchanan keeper. Our bench erupted calling for a penalty kick, but the referee turned and jogged back upfield. The call was not to be, nor was the equalizer. Minutes later, the final whistle blew and we walked away with a 2-1 defeat. I accepted congratulations from the Buchanan coach and all their players and turned to head back to the locker room. On my way back, I was accosted by Principal Peters. When I was at Buchanan, he had been the assistant principal but had been promoted a year earlier. "Great job, coach," he told me, "that is one of the best games I have ever seen. Your team is going places in 4A." "Thanks, Dr. Peters," I replied, "we are getting there." "No doubt about it," he nodded, "you know coach is retiring, right?" "Yeah, we talked about it earlier this week," I responded. "Well I hope you will think about coming back," he said, "we could really use someone of your caliber to take over. We'll talk after the season." I bid him goodbye and headed back to the locker room, not knowing what to expect. Usually, I love the locker room. Where else will I see so much young naked flesh. After a loss like this one, I didn't know. I entered to a scene that defined mixed emotions. At one moment, they were near jubilant over their play. Our sweeper sobbed in a corner, convinced his PK foul was the difference. Brandon was going from player to player telling them all how well they had played. Other players voiced anger at the officials for not awarding us a penalty on the foul on Brandon. I noticed Brandon and Bobby, shirtless, talking about Bobby's goal. Brandon put his arm around Bobby and congratulated him. David, already naked, his huge soft cock dangling, was next to them looking for his towel. . Brandon reached over and slapped him on the ass in congratulations, causing David's massive tool to sway back and forth between his legs. I chatted briefly with many players, telling them how well I thought they had played. I hung around as they showered. I noticed when Brandon left the showers, his cock was in a semi-erect condition, larger than when fully soft, but still just beginning its rise. I walked over to him for a quick word, he smiled and accepted my compliments as he dressed. When the team was ready, I gathered them together. "I have a short meeting I have to get to," I said, explaining the trainer would accompany them back on the bus. "If anyone gets out of line, I am going to hear about it." They nodded their understanding and we left the locker room to a small group of waiting parents and girlfriends. Our team rule was that we all traveled together to and from the games, so a quick hug or kiss was all the players would be getting. I noticed David and his girlfriend lingering for a slightly longer time together. David's size was no secret on the team. More than once, a Monday practice session included bits and pieces of stories recounting David's escapades. Both David and his girlfriend liked to fuck. Every party seemed to involve them slipping away to an empty bedroom and engaging in loud, urgent sex for at least an hour. She was a talker in bed and players would gather outside the door to hear her beg for his huge cock, moan as he stuck it in her, squeal to his rapid thrusts and let loose in undeniable orgasm. David fucked hard. Even through the door, the pounding her poor pussy was taking was audible. I felt sorry for her next boyfriend. Unless he was hung like a horse, he would be entering a pussy that was stretched and worn from the numerous beatings David has given it. I hurried him onto the bus and reminded them that we would watch the game film tomorrow morning and have a light practice. With mock groans they departed and I went in search of the Buchanan coach. I found him in his office talking with a guy who looked familiar but that I couldn't immediately place. He motioned me in and introduced me to Coach Paulsen, the first year head coach at Western State College, a few hours west of us. I had met him a few times at various coaching clinics and was surprised he remembered. He had been down to look at the Buchanan keeper and based on that performance was sure to leave pleased with what he saw. We headed out to the Irish pub a few blocks from the school. Over shepherd's pie and Black and Tans we recounted the game. Coach Paulsen was impressed with our squad and asked a lot of questions about Brandon and a few of the other players. The Buchanan coach gave me the official stat sheet which confirmed how even the game had been and my copy of the game video. It was a good time and a much needed break. I hadn't given much thought to how I would get back home, so Coach Paulsen dropped me at the school on his way out of town. As I got in my car, I double checked to make sure I had everything. As was my custom, I made a quick circle of the parking lots to make sure nothing was amiss. Like any school, we had our share of vandalism, and teachers would often swing through after hours if they were in the neighborhood. As I got ready to leave, I glanced to the student parking lot and was surprised to see Brandon's silver Camaro sitting alone in the parking lot. I coasted to a stop and rolled my window down for a better view. Brandon had a light tint on his windows, so I couldn't see clearly into the car. I could make out a shadow on the passenger side, but that was about all. I killed the lights and shut off my engine. There didn't seem to be any movement in the car. I was pretty sure Brandon would not be out vandalizing the school at all. I figured he must have caught a ride to a party with one of the team. I was just about to head home when another shadow seemed to pop up in the driver seat. The dome light came on and I could see Brandon sitting in the driver's seat. I still couldn't make out the passenger. After a few more minutes, the window driver's door cracked open and some trash was deposited in the parking lot. Brandon started his car and headed toward the student exit. I quickly started my car and cruised to where Brandon had been. I was horrified to find at least eight beer cans in the parking lot. At 125 pounds, if Brandon had four of those in the time he would have had after the ride back, he would be a drunk little boy. I gunned the engine and tried to keep up with his disappearing tail lights. Fortunately, three major intersections were ahead and by the second red light, I had caught him. I pulled beside him, got out, and knocked on his window. I could now see it was Bobby in the passenger seat. I told him to pull over into the convenience store lot beside the intersection. He complied after parking I ordered him out of the car. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" I demanded. "I was just taking Bobby home," Brandon lied. "That's bullshit Brandon," I confronted him, "I just came from the school, I saw you dump eight empty beer cans out of your car. How much have you had to drink?" In the passenger seat, Bobby sat frozen with a look of fear on his face. "Coach, I wasn't . . ." Brandon started, but I cut him off immediately. "Cut the shit, Brandon. How much did you drink?" "I had five, Bobby had the other three," Brandon answered. Bobby looked terrified. "Get out of the car," I ordered him, "I'm driving you home." "Coach, I can't do that. My parents will know something is up, and if they find out I was drinking, I will be in so much shit." "Me too," Bobby offered timidly. "Well you aren't driving Brandon. I would rather have you in shit than in the morgue. So that idea is out. Can I drop you somewhere?" "Well, we were headed to a party at David's, his parents are out of town," Brandon offered. "No way, man," I responded, "You have had enough, and if you are at a party, you are just gonna drink more. And if your judgment so far tonight is any indicator, you will ride around with some drunk guy - - you too Bobby, you better learn if you want to live to be 16." "Coach, come on, I can't go home," Brandon pleaded, "I've been out past my curfew three times this year and if I screw it up again, I am gonna be grounded for a month." "Well, I don't know what to tell you Brandon," I replied, "You got yourself into this mess, I don't have an answer for you." "I can stay at your house," he asked. "Yeah, that won't raise any questions with your parents," I laughed, "Try again." "I'll tell them I am at David's, nobody is going to answer the phone there tonight," he begged. Now this seemed like a golden opportunity, all night to share with Brandon. Just one problem, Bobby knew everything and that wouldn't work. "Let me stay too," Bobby piped in, "I can't go home drunk, gosh I didn't even think about that." I said I would think about it. Brandon took out his cell phone and called his parents. He gave some implausible story about the team hanging out at David's to celebrate their loss and apparently his parents bought it. He handed the phone to Bobby who tried the same story and after a lot of pleading and telling his parents the team would think he was a little kid if he couldn't stay, they apparently relented. "Fine," I surrendered, "but I am in charge, if either of you give me any trouble I will drop you both home and explain it all to your parents." They happily agreed. Brandon walked, or slightly staggered, to my car followed by Bobby. I couldn't believe he had tried to drive in that condition. They grabbed their gear from Brandon's car and jumped in the back. Oddly, neither of them tried to get shotgun. We drove silently toward my house. I stole a glance in the rear view mirror and noticed them propped drunkenly against each other. As we arrived at the house, I pulled into the garage. Nobody needed to see two students coming into my house at 10:30 p.m. I unlocked the door and Bobby and Brandon plopped themselves down on the couch and asked if we could watch a movie. I found a comedy, American Pie, and put it in the DVD. Both Bobby and Brandon complimented by home theater and I relaxed in the recliner watching the movie. Glancing toward the couch, I saw Bobby and Brandon still propped against each other. I did a double take when I noticed Brandon's hand was clearly in Bobby's lap. Something was definitely up. About a half hour into the movie, Bobby excused himself to use the bathroom. I moved over to the couch and sat next to Brandon. "What's up with you and Bobby," I asked. Brandon grinned wide and took a deep breath. "I gave him head in the parking lot," he smiled, "I don't know how it happened, I had some beer in a cooler in my trunk for tonight. We were planning to go over to David's when I suggested we drink a beer first to celebrate his goal. Another beer followed and we got to talking about sex and girls and I kind of picked up on him not really having any feelings for any of the freshmen girls. Then we started talking about how horny we were and jerking off and next thing I knew we were jerking it. He kept looking at my dick, I kept complimenting him on how big his is. Finally, I offered to jerk him and he was more than eager. You know he is as thick as you, but not near as long." "That's hot as hell," I said, "I guess I know where you two will be sleeping tonight." "Man, I hope so," Brandon said, "we didn't get a chance to finish, we were heading to the party. But Bobby didn't cum even though I think he was close." "Well whatever you all do," I cautioned, "not a word about us." "I know, Coach," Brandon answered in an exasperated tone as Bobby re-entered the room. "What do you know," Bobby asked. "To go down in the box next time," Brandon answered, referring to the non-call on his penalty kick. "Ha, yeah you better," Bobby said and resumed his place on the couch. As the movie wound to a close, I yawned and reminded them both we had game film to watch in the morning. "Will you two be OK in here, I need to get some sleep." "Yeah we're good," they both answered and I excused myself to my bedroom. I propped the door closed, but left a small crack. I stripped to my boxers and pulled on a t-shirt. I lay back, wide awake, waiting for what I knew was sure to follow. You don't throw too horny teens together and expect they are going straight to sleep. Sure enough, about 20 minutes later, I heard light moans coming from the living room. I snuck stealthily down the hall to where I had a nice view of the living room. Bobby's bare arms were thrown over the top of the couch and his bare shoulders were tensed. Brandon was not visible but I had a good idea where he was. Bobby was breathing heavily and whispering to Brandon. "Oh yeah, that feels so good, so good," he moaned, "keep going, I'm so close. Yeah Brandon, suck my dick keep going." Bobby tensed and muffled his orgasm as he shot. Moments later Brandon reappeared and planted a deep kiss on Bobby's lips. They kissed some more and Brandon was whispering in Bobby's ear. I longed to hear what he was saying but I couldn't risk getting any closer. I saw Bobby shake his head and giggle "No way." Brandon resumed his whispering and nibbled on Bobby's ears before kissing his neck. They continued their whispered negotiations before Bobby stood, giving me am amazing few of his hard, slightly bubbled ass. Brandon stood as well, his little hard on visible to my fixated eyes. I pressed myself against the wall and reached down to adjust my hard cock which was tenting my boxers. I slowly peeked around the corner and saw Brandon bending over his soccer bag. His tight ass spread slightly giving me a view of that place I longed to enter. He turned back to Bobby with his sunscreen in hand. "This will work," he said, a bit louder than he intended, evoking a shush from Bobby. I flattened myself against the wall again. Peering back around, I couldn't believe the view. They had moved to the floor, the couch no longer blocking my view. Bobby was on his hands and knees facing the kitchen. Brandon was kneeling behind him. I watched as Brandon squirted the sun screen on his fingers, then worked them slowly over Bobby's ass crack. I noticed as he slipped a finger inside Bobby's ass, that the freshman shuddered a bit and seemed to lean back into Brandon's hand. This slow and gentle massage continued for about 5 minutes. Then Brandon took the sunscreen and coated his hard 5 1/2 incher with it. He placed his cock between Bobby's ass cheeks and pumped slowly in the crevice. Brandon leaned over Bobby's body and whispered in his ear. I saw him grasp his cock and line it up with Bobby's virgin hole. Brandon slowly let his head slip inside Bobby's fresh ass and held it there. I heard him whisper "Relax" and noticed Bobby lean slightly back into him. Brandon slowly started to work more of his cock in, pausing frequently to let Bobby adjust to the feeling. A sudden thrust from Brandon brought a gasp from Bobby. Brandon stopped, stroking Bobby's skin lightly as he apologized. Bobby nodded and said something as Brandon continued to push into him. After what must have been 10 minutes, Brandon was all the way in. He bent forward, pressing his body against Bobby's back, and began to slowly move in and out of Bobby. These short, slow strokes were greeted with light grunts from Bobby as he got used to having a dick inside him. I watched Brandon wrap his arms around Bobby and feel his strong chest and abs. Occasionally Brandon would give Bobby's long soft cock a stroke, but Bobby seemed still very sensitive from his last orgasm. Brandon was kissing the back of Bobby's neck as he continued his slow short fucking of the boy's ass. Brandon seemed to pause, then straightened up. He placed his hands on Bobby's hips and began some faster, longer strokes. Bobby now seemed fully used to being fucked. He was pushing back to meet Brandon's thrusts and the sounds of their young flesh smacking together caused me to pull my cock out of my boxers and begin to stroke it urgently. Brandon picked up his pace even more and Bobby moaned, causing Brandon to stop in mid-stroke and remind him to be quiet. Bobby nodded and Brandon began to fuck him again. Bobby's cock had grown semi-erect and was bobbing along with each stroke. Brandon pushed him forward so he lay flat on the ground. Hitting from directly above, Brandon was fucking the boy hard and fast. Bobby's moans were muffled by the carpet, but he didn't seem to mind at all. As I watched, I shot a load right there in the hallway and wondered how Brandon had managed to keep fucking him without shooting yet. As if on cue, Brandon withdrew and pulled Bobby back to his hands and knees. His sunscreen coated cock glistened and stood still hard as a rock in front of him. Brandon realigned his cock on Bobby's pink target and pushed all the way in with one stroke. Bobby squealed but Brandon didn't even mind this time. Like a jackhammer he was stroking in and out of this fine freshman ass. With one mighty, long push, Brandon held himself all the way in and kept grinding in circles as he clearly reached orgasm. Head thrown back, hands on Bobby's hips, Brandon dumped his load 5 1/2 inches up Bobby's well fucked ass. After holding himself there for about thirty seconds, Brandon withdrew his still hard cock and raised Bobby up to him. Tongues darted in and out and they kissed deeply, their hands all over each other's bodies. Bobby was hard again, and when Brandon reached for his thick tool, Bobby pushed him away and said he was still too sensitive. I heard Brandon promise him a morning blow job as they snuggled together on the floor, spooning like two long time lovers. The excitement seemed to be over for the night and I wandered back to my bedroom, wondering what tomorrow morning would bring. - - - - - - Here's the part where I beg for e-mail. Honestly, that's the only way I know how the story is going and what people are thinking or want to see. Plus, it makes me feel good because I know people are reading. I'll try to write back and answer any questions you have. So drop me a line. - - Cam