Date: Wed, 11 Jan 2012 17:57:59 -0800 (PST)
From: The Mastodon <the_mastodon@yahoo.com>
Subject: Coaching Caleb

All rights reserved by the author. The author does not condone sexual abuse
of children and supports both the government's right to prosecute criminals
and the right of free speech. © 2012, The Mastodon. Comments are welcome
at the_mastodon@yahoo.com. Don't bother trolling or flaming or sending
attachments as I will just happily delete.

***********************************

I've always loved sports. Growing up, I couldn't get enough of watching
baseball on TV, playing catch with my dad, finding pickup games in the
neighborhood and getting out to an occasional professional or college game
with my family. As a high schooler, I tried out and even played a little,
but I was never good enough to make an all-conference team or be a star
player for my school.

While I was in college, looking for an internship, I found a job working at
a basketball camp in Tennessee. That opened up a new world to me: coaching.
I might have only been an average athlete, but damn could I coach. It seems
I just have a knack of being able to instruct players how to do things that
my body just could never master. It was at this camp, too, where I first
discovered that I had had a sub-conscious attraction to boys.

I've had my share of girlfriends over the years. I even almost got married
to one. I really like having sex with women and I love the idea of being a
family man some day. But being in such close contact with hundreds of
sweaty, athletic, cute 10- to 14-year-old boys had me panting all day long
if the humidity wasn't enough to do it.

After a summer filled with boxing out, playing close defense and an
occasional butt pat, but no other physical contact, I was frustrated and
confused. I knew I wanted a "normal" life, but these feelings and
attractions were too strong for me to ignore. I had to find a way to see
what it was like to be with a boy.

When I got back to school for my junior year, I started talking with my
former middle school basketball coach, Coach Highcastle. It seemed his
assistant from the previous year had graduated from college and started
teaching PE in the next town over, and so couldn't help him out with his
team anymore. He'd pay me what he could, which wasn't much, but it was
better than coming home and playing video games and smoking pot after
school. Plus, it might be the method I was looking for to find a boy to
help me out.

On the first day of tryouts, man was I in for a surprise. Not only was it
possible for me to find a cute boy to talk to and try to get with, it
seemed like there were 100 boys there dripping in adolescence and raw
sex. Each boy, aged 12 to 14, was trying desperately to get my attention
and make a positive impression upon me. More than one shirtless seventh
grader asked me to come out and play some physical one-on-one ball with him
to see if he could get around me. I had at least a half-boner for the
entire two hours, and at least one of the prospective ball players noticed
it when he backed me down one-on-one to get to the post. After he missed
the contested shot, he just turned around, looked straight at my junk and
licked his lips just the slightest bit. He walked back to where several of
his teammates were doing stationary drills, but not before looking me in
the eye and telling me, "Thanks for that, Coach. I hope I get to play with
you every day." I'm pretty sure I blushed, but he just gave me a small
smile and walked away.

A couple days of tryouts and about 85 cuts later, we had our team of 14
eager boys. We kept 8 8th graders and 6 7th graders, including my little
tease, Caleb. Caleb was the smallest kid on the team at about 5'4", 100
pounds dripping wet. The 12-year-old knockout had dark blonde hair, cut in
a kind of Justin Bieber style. He had braces, but even with the "grill" he
had the best smile on the team. When he was happy, which was usually, he
could light up my day with one look. Though our team had practice jerseys,
Caleb never seemed to want to wear it. He much preferred to go sans shirt
whenever possible, which I never said a thing about. His skinny but
athletic, tanned upper body was the perfect boy body. You could tell by
looking at him that within the next six months he would hit a huge growth
spurt. But for now, he was small, smooth and perfect. Caleb also tended to
wear shorts that were just about a size too small. Most kids preferred the
huge baggy kind that looked almost like baggy capri pants. But Caleb wore
shorts that hugged his body when he was sweaty and only went down about
two-thirds of the way to his knees. They showed off a fit, plump bottom
that about made me drool when I got a chance to stare for a few seconds.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays, the boys had the gym before school while the
girls practiced after school. On one of these mornings, we finished
practice a few minutes early as a reward for a huge win over our cross-town
rivals the night before. Caleb asked me if I wouldn't mind staying for a
few minutes to help him on his guard penetration. And so I got low and got
ready for him to come at me. The first time we went at it, Caleb pulled out
a move he must have seen in an NBA game, because I got completely schooled
by him. I was completely convinced he was going to go right on me and I
stepped in to block him out, but he head-faked right while the rest of him
went left and he got around me easily for the quick layup.

I gave him a smile and told him, "Wow, Caleb, you've gotten a lot better
since tryouts."

"Nah, I really liked how we played at tryouts," he said, leaving me
wondering if he meant he had gotten worse at basketball in the past few
weeks or if he was hinting about wanting to feel me up when I was hard
again.

He made it pretty obvious what he meant on his next possession. Caleb took
the ball out at the top of the key and decided he was going to try to back
me down to get to the post. In doing so, he turned around and ground hard
into me in a "standing spooning" position. While he made some token efforts
to try to get around me, it was obvious he was just trying to get as much
body contact with me as possible. Neither of us having our shirts on, it
felt very intimate having him pushing his back up against my chest. He was
also grinding his cute little bubble butt right into my groin, making me
sprout up faster than lilies in April. By the time he made a serious effort
to get a shot up, I knew he was 100% certain that I was hard and that it
was him that had made me that way. Though he didn't score on the layup, he
turned around toward me and said, "I've got you now, Coach!"

A couple seconds later, Caleb took the ball out up top again and I got in a
standard man defense position, low with my back straight and my arms out
wide. Caleb faked a left-side drive and instead went right, making sure
that as he blew by me my left hand made full contact with his little boy
package. The 12-year-old scamp actually made me feel him up, on purpose!

"Wow, Coach, maybe I am getting better at playing with you. You seem to be
getting something out of it, too. Maybe you could meet me after school at
the playground court and I could show you a couple other things?" he said,
making me think, "Man, this kid is really hitting on me hard," but I still
wasn't completely positive that I wasn't dreaming his motives up.

"Yeah, Caleb, that'd be tight. Let's do that," I said.

"Great, I can't wait to do it," he told me back with a grin. These next few
hours were going to be hard. REALLY hard.

*******

I had a couple classes that morning, but I couldn't concentrate on anything
but mental images of a shirtless Caleb telling me he couldn't wait to "do
it," and of his little butt in those tight black shorts, basically begging
to be fucked.

When it finally came time to head back to school, I found Caleb waiting for
me at the playground right at 3:00. Shirt already off and tight shorts and
bball shoes on, he was ready to ball. On his first possession, he tried to
cross me over, but fumbled the ball and it rolled out of bounds off of him.

"Man, I just can't get that one down. It looks really good when I draw it
out, but when I try to do it, there's just something I can't get
right. Hey, Coach, there's a chalk board right over past that door in the
boiler room. Can I go draw it out for you and see if you have any
suggestions so I can make it better?" Caleb asked me.

"Umm, sure. I guess we can do that," I said back.

The door to the boiler room was locked, but Caleb had an ID card and easily
picked it. "I come in here all the time; the janitors don't mind. They keep
it locked, but they know some of us guys use the chalkboard sometimes, so
they don't care," Caleb told me.

I thought his story was a little weak. I was sure that if the janitors kept
the door locked that they didn't want kids messing around in there,
especially since there was a bunch of equipment in there that could get
stolen or messed with. I also noticed as we entered that off in the
distance in the room, there was a chair lodged up against the door that led
to the interior of the school. That struck me as odd as well.

Sure enough there was a standing chalkboard somewhat hidden in a dark
corner of the room, kind of close to the boiler. As it would happen,
though, that particular corner was about 100 degrees, even though the
temperature outside was about 50 on the cool November afternoon. The boiler
made it so hot!

"Do you mind if I get down to my boxers? It's so hot over here," Caleb
pleaded. This obviously didn't seem like the smartest idea, but the kid had
me so horned up that I couldn't say no.

As he peeled off his sexy shorts, I saw his underwear - a small pair of red
Jockey boxer-briefs that had barely a little bit more material than
tighty-whities. I could see his little bottom in more detail than I had
ever seen it before, and his package was outlined by the soft material. It
seemed a little big for his age, despite his slight height.

As he drew up the play he had tried to demonstrate earlier, he bent over in
front of me to draw something on the bottom of the board. As he did so, he
wiggled his ass ever so slightly at me. That did it for me.

"You didn't really bring me in here to show me this play, did you, Caleb?"

Now it was his turn to blush.

"Well, not exactly. Coach, let me be honest with you. I think you're
awesome, like the coolest grown-up I've ever met. I know you think I'm
pretty hot, too. I have seen the way you get boned up sometimes when you're
around me. You've never said anything, though; don't you like me?"

"I like you very much, Caleb. It's just that if your teachers or parents or
anyone knew how much I like you, I could get into trouble, so I couldn't
say anything."

"Well, I'm pretty sure you won't tell anyone, and I swear on my life that I
will never tell a soul, so just do what you want with me. Anything you
want," Caleb added, as he dropped the last stitch of clothes he had on, his
tight red boxer-briefs.

Caleb stood before me in his birthday suit, his three-inch hardon most of
the way up and clearly consumed with preteen lust. He was panting slightly,
his dime-sized pink nipples were hard and he licked his lips a couple
times. He looked like perfection, absolute perfection.

My resolve to try to stay out of trouble had been completely crushed the
moment he stripped off his drawers. No words needed to be spoken. I closed
the gap between us and bent over slightly to give Caleb a kiss, probably
the first romantic kiss of his life. He seemed startled at first, but
loosened up a couple seconds later and actually allowed me to tongue kiss
him as my tongue entered his mouth and danced the sexy dance that can only
lead to more intense acts.

As we kissed, Caleb reached for my fly, undid my pants and started yanking
my jeans to the floor. As he did so, his hand rubbed up against my cock,
already hard and wet with precum, anticipating an intense mating in the
near future.

Both of us now naked, I reached down and started stroking Caleb's immature
cock. It was decent-sized, but I would have been very surprised if it was
able to shoot seed. He had just the very beginnings of pubic hair, a small
but dark ring of fuzz forming an upside-down U around the base of his
little dick. He made soft little moaning noises as I wanked him off. In
between kisses, he kept his mouth open but kept his eyes closed in pure
sexual bliss.

"Please, Coach, do anything you want with me. All I want to do is make you
happy," Caleb urged me.

My dick and my brain were on the same line of thought. I had to get inside
of that amazing little butt of his. Since he was so little and
inexperienced, I knew I had to spend some time preparing him, or he'd
likely not want to do it ever again. So I told him, "Turn around, Caleb. I
think you'll like this."

As he did as I told him, I dropped down on a knee. Though I had never
performed anilingus, I had gone down on a woman before, and I was sure it
had to be about the same. As it turned out, an act I had only begrudgingly
performed on a woman I was able to give with vigor to this boy. His ass was
as clean as could be, and my tongue desperately lapped at and in his tight
rosebud hole as I made him loose and wet for his first buggering.

Caleb alternated between panting, moaning and just whining as his little
butt hole was excavated by my tongue. I went at it for about 15 minutes
before Caleb said that he thought he was ready. My tongue tired and my dick
hard as steel, I agreed with him and gave a thought to how I wanted to do
this. I spotted an old couch about halfway through the room that the
janitors probably spent their breaks lounging on. This seemed like the
perfect setting, given our circumstances, for Caleb's deflowering.

I led Caleb by the hand to the couch and told him to lay down on his
back. He did so willingly and as he got on the couch I told him to raise up
his legs and bring his knees back to around his head if he could, which he
was able to do, as it turns out.

Now ready for penetration, Caleb closed his eyes and asked me to be
gentle. I told him I would treat him like he deserved to be treated, and I
lined up my hard cock to his tiny little bum hole. As I pushed forward,
Caleb groaned but didn't protest. His moans only encouraged me to
proceed. I held on for a couple minutes after my big red cock head entered
past his sphincter. Sweat was pouring from his forehead and on his chest
and legs, and most especially around his ass, but it seemed like this was
still what he wanted most. After a couple minutes, I saw him nod his head
slightly, signaling me to continue. Inch by inch, I fed him my member, as
he moaned like a bitch in heat and took it like any good boy would.

When I bottomed out in his bottom, Caleb opened his eyes for the first time
since we started and looked at where my meat was impaling his small,
athletic butt.

"I feel so full, Coach, but so good. Fuck me, Coach, make me your boy," he
said.

And that I did. I started out slow, pulling out about halfway before
steadily re-feeding him my cock. Eventually, I got into my favorite rhythm
of fucking all the way in and all the way out to the head. I was
long-dicking Caleb and I couldn't be happier.

After a few minutes of the best sex of my life, I knew I had reached the
point of no return.

"I'm almost there, buddy. Can I breed you?"

He didn't miss a beat as he said, "Please cum in me, Coach. Breed me. I
want your cum to fill me up right now! I'm your fucking bitch, just fuck me
and breed me every day, Coach! I wish I was a girl so I could have all of
your babies. But just fuck me and breed me all the time, Coach!"

That did it for me. Just as I started to feel him shuddering below me with
a dry orgasm, first one huge blast and then another and I think five more
shot out into him before I was wasted. I had just bred the cutest seventh
grade boy I had ever met, and he loved it.

As he lay there, knees still up to his chest and looking at me with
adoration in his eyes, Caleb told me, "I've loved you since the first day
of tryouts. I knew I wanted you to be the first to breed me. Now I am your
boy, and you can have me whenever and wherever you want. Please, Coach, can
I be your boy forever?" he asked.

"Forever, buddy. You're my boy."