Date: Mon, 31 Mar 2014 13:58:12 -0400
From: ACD x <playoffwriter@outlook.com>
Subject: UVA March Madness (gay/celebrity)

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and is not intended to imply anything
about the true sexuality of the celebrities mentioned or any personal
knowledge about their private lives.

A photo for inspiration:
http://progress-index.com/polopoly_fs/1.1657937!/fileImage/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/landscape_490/image.jpg

It was funny how a simple knock at the door could do so much to a man.

Tony Bennett had been sitting in his hotel room in New York, the night
before UVA's first appearance in the Sweet 16 since the 90s. Dressed down
in a navy polo with the orange V and crossed swords of Virginia on the
lapel, tucked neatly into a pair of slate gray pants, the coach still
looked slick and put-together, his hair neatly groomed with product, his
tan, lightly creased features fresh and clean. At 44, Tony Bennett was
trim, muscular, his eyes still flashing with the hunger of a young coach on
the rise. He was accustomed to getting attention for his looks, and as a
husband and father he was always prepared for a harmless flirtation to
cross the line into a dangerous advance.

But he hadn't been prepared for this.

When that knock came at Tony's door, the coach's heart leapt. His pulse
instantly quickened, like it still did in the few seconds just before
tip-off. His palms heated, his cheeks reddened slightly. And, as he turned
his head to look at the door where the light rap had come from, Tony
Bennett felt an unmistakable stirring under those gray dress pants.

Fuck, the handsome coach thought. He stood, taking a deep breath. He'd
almost been hoping the kid wouldn't go through with it. OK, maybe they'd
screwed around a little before, but that was nothing more than a quick kiss
stolen in the coach's office, a playful grab at Tony's crotch under his
suit pants, and always followed by a rueful look from the coach, as if to
say, 'You shouldn't have done that...' But tonight, when he'd caught that
hungry look on the flight up, Tony had returned it in equal measure,
leaving no doubt about what he wanted. And hadn't been able to stop himself
from slipping a note with a room number and a whispered word as the team
unloaded from the bus.

He'd told himself he'd wait till midnight, then put out his do not disturb
sign and go to bed. The clock showed 11:48. Tony had never expected him to
actually show up.

Tony walked a few steps toward the door, but stopped as he caught himself
in the mirror on the bathroom wall. It wouldn't have been obvious to many
people, but he could tell -- the flush of his cheeks, the quicker than
average pulse of the vein in his neck, the barely noticeable but growing
rise in the front of his pants. Tony Bennett was turned on. And he wasn't
even at the door yet.

Get a hold of yourself, man, he thought, sucking in another breath and
releasing it slowly. He turned to the door, glanced through the peephole.

Fuck yes.

Before his heart could beat any faster, before his hands could clam up any
more, before he could convince himself not to open the door at all, Tony
flipped the lock and pulled the door open.

"Hey, coach." Joe Harris was grinning wide. The 6'6" senior was dressed
casually; a gray t-shirt with navy print "Virginia Basketball" across the
chest hugged his powerful torso, a loose pair of navy sweatpants hung from
his waist, pooling around a ratty pair of Nikes. The handsome brown-haired
guard didn't move as his coach opened up, just stood there smiling. As hard
as Tony's heart was pounding, Joe didn't seem nervous in the slightest --
though as the seconds ticked away, Tony didn't miss the little flick of
Joe's gaze down over his coach and back up to meet his eyes once
again. Finally, Joe's smile widened and his brow furrowed.

"So...you gonna invite me in?"

Tony Bennett opened his mouth to speak, but instead just stood aside
wordlessly, his head turning to watch Joe Harris walk in his hotel room,
then forcing his hand to let go of the door handle and hearing it click
shut. Joe had only come in a few steps, and it was the young basketball
player who turned and flipped the lock.

Tony fumbled for words. "I shouldn't--"

"I didn't think you'd ever do somethin' like this," Joe broke in. He shook
his head, lifting his hand to run through his short chestnut-brown
hair. "Hell, I didn't think I'd ever come up here."

"I didn't think you would either," said Tony quietly, his gaze locked on
Joe's downturned eyes. Then Joe looked up suddenly and met his coach's
stare, and Tony swallowed hard.

"Yeah," Joe said with a smile. "I know. But I was sittin' down in my room,
and I just kept thinking...we got something, coach, you and me.  And I
don't wanna lose that just cause...you know..."

Tony's eyes fell. Cause we're both straight? he thought. Cause I'm old
enough to be your dad? Cause I got a wife and kids at home? Cause we're in
the middle of the goddamn NCAA tournament and I have my star player in my
hotel room and all I can think about is just ripping off his clothes and--

"Coach?"

Tony looked up again, and Joe Harris was looking at him so goddamn
earnestly that he wanted to laugh out loud.  But behind those questioning
eyes Tony saw something else -- what had made Joe unafraid to lock eyes
with Tony during games for several seconds longer than any of his teammates
would've been comfortable with, what had brought him up here
tonight. Hunger. Desire. The kind of hot, unquenchable need that burned in
every virile, 22-year-old college jock like Joe -- only instead of
directing it at willing sorority girls and team groupies back in
Charlottesville, Joe had fixed his hunger and desire squarely on his
basketball coach.

Tony licked his lips nervously. "I--"

Joe Harris's lips swallowed whatever was going to come next, as Joe surged
forward and kissed Tony Bennett hard and hungry. Tony's heart thumped in
his chest. Holy shit, his brain screamed. Fuck yeah, his cock answered,
swelling instantly to full hardness. He kissed Joe back without hesitation,
kissing his player like he'd never kissed anybody before.  Tony found his
hand gripping the back of Joe's head, fingers knotting into Joe's hair, the
other hand finding Joe's chest through his t-shirt.  Feeling the hardness,
the strength of that chest, Tony managed to push himself back, free his
lips from Joe's.


"Fuck!" he cursed, staring at Joe wildly. But the senior guard was just
grinning at him.

"I've wanted to do that for so fucking long," Joe breathed. "God, you're
hot, coach."


Tony Bennett's dick throbbed in his dress pants; he was painfully aware of
its thick length aching against his leg. He took Joe's head again in his
hand, pulled his player's forehead to his, their lips inches apart but not
meeting, both men breathing heavily. "Me too, Joe. Wanted this. Wanted
you." And he had -- God knew Tony Bennett had lusted after Joe Harris
almost since the day the kid stepped on campus.  He might've felt a hint of
it when he was out in Washington recruiting him, but it wasn't till he saw
Joe in practice every day, saw that drive, that hunger, saw the wide smiles
he gave his coach after he hit a big shot or made a huge stop, that Tony
had well and truly fallen for his star. But when he fell, he fell hard, and
he wasn't proud to think about how many times, on the road, away from the
responsibilities and reminders of home, Tony had lay back in his quiet
hotel room bed, picturing Joe peeling off that #12 jersey, tugging down
those white Cavaliers shorts, and slowly stroked himself to eruption
thinking about all the things he'd like to do to Joe Harris.


And now here he was, offering himself up to his coach, everything Tony ever
wanted in a t-shirt and sweats. Joe's voice was lower now as he pulled
back, lifting his gray t-shirt up over his hard stomach, over his
chest. "Well..." Joe pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the
ground, leaving his well-muscled torso bare. "I'm all yours now."


"Fuck," Tony repeated, quieter. He let his hands press against Joe's chest
again, feeling the solidness of the muscle, the heat of the skin. As his
fingers sank lower, Joe's breathing got shallower, and Tony nearly stopped
breathing completely, feeling the smooth definition of Joe's stomach, then
dropping further to hook into the waistband of Joe's underwear, black boxer
briefs that hugged his hips tightly just above the looser waistband of his
sweatpants. Instead of tugging either of them down further, though, Tony
unhooked his fingers and instead let them trail down the front of Joe's
sweats.


"Oh holy fuck..." Tony Bennett's breath caught again as he felt the
steel-hard mass of Joe Harris's cock aching into his briefs and
sweatpants. As his fingers wrapped around the long, firm ridge, he couldn't
help looking up. Joe's face was a wide smile, lips parted, looking at his
coach through lidded eyes.

"Ungh." Joe let out a little grunt as Tony's hand slipped down the length
of his cock, feeling its size, its thickness, feeling that hard prick
twitch against his touch. "Fuck," Joe whispered. Tony Bennett slowly began
stroking Joe Harris's cock through his sweatpants, loving how responsive
Joe was to each stroke, each squeeze, the young ballplayer grunting and
tensing. Finally, Joe reached up and grabbed Tony's wrist, pulling the
coach's hand free, then guiding it up and under the waistband of Joe's
sweats and underwear.

Tony held his breath as he took the lead, sliding his hand further into Joe
Harris's pants. He easily found his player's aching cock again, only this
time when Tony curled his fingers around Joe's hot, hard prick, he felt
Joe's arousal in all its glory, no longer a creation of Tony Bennett's
lust-clouded imagination, no longer hidden under a loose pair of basketball
shorts or sweatpants, but warm and throbbing in Tony's hand. Tony's own
cock was so hard it felt like it was going to rip right through his zipper,
but somehow he kept control of himself.  He let his grip slide up the
length of Joe Harris's dick till his fingers reached the wide crown and he
felt Joe's body tighten in pleasure. Tony looked up, forcing Joe's eyes to
his.


"You sure this is OK?" Tony said quietly. Joe had never seen this side of
his coach, the side that wasn't screaming plays and directions from the
sidelines or confidently working the team up in a timeout. For a big-time
coach in a big-time league, whenever the cameras were rolling or the guys
were looking up at him in the locker room, Tony Bennett had to be the
authority figure, the elder, the unquestioned leader. Joe knew his coach
was exposing a part of himself he never showed, opening a door he could
never close again. And he fucking loved it.


He thrust gently into Tony's grip, letting his eyes drift shut, then open
again. "This is...so fucking OK." Tony smiled at that, and Joe's cock
throbbed harder. He reached down, tugging Tony's polo loose from his pants
and lifting it over Tony's head. "Wow," Joe murmured, running his hands
over his coach's bare upper body, feeling the light dusting of hair on
Tony's own firm pecs, his powerful arms, his roughly defined
abdominals. "Damn, coach, I knew you were still fit under that suit,
but..."


Tony reddened. He clutched Joe's cock tight again and the senior guard
breathed in sharply. "I really turn you on that much, buddy?" He couldn't
believe this kid, 22 years old, handsome as hell and big man on campus,
could really get hard for a guy twice his age.


But Joe just grinned, shaking his head. "You seriously have no idea."
Confidently he unbuckled Tony's belt and unhooked his pants, reaching
between the splayed fabric to find Tony Bennett's cock rock-hard and
pressing insistently into his navy-blue trunks. "God," Joe breathed, "even
bigger'n I thought." And before Tony could think of another objection, Joe
Harris was sinking to his knees, tugging Tony's pants and underwear down
along with him, and when Tony Bennett's hard, thick 7-inch cock slipped
free of its confines, Joe only let it bob once, twice, before catching it
between his thumb and index finger and sliding the already-leaking head
between his lips.


"Hooohh...fuck..." Tony opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came
out, and anyway Joe was already taking him deeper, Joe's tongue sliding
down the length of Tony's hard cock, easing the path and making his coach
shudder in pleasure. He soon felt his dick slide against the back of Joe's
throat, and realized somewhere in the back of his mind that this wasn't the
first time Joe Harris had sucked cock. That thought sent new waves of
arousal down through Tony's body and out to the very tip of his cock, and
suddenly he felt his balls churning. Tony was breathing harder now, and
when Joe pulled back to the head and started massaging the underside with
his tongue, he saw sparks and suddenly jerked backward.


"What's wrong?" Joe said, looking up.

"Nothing!"  Tony couldn't help putting a hand to the back of his player's
head. He smiled, stroking Joe's hair reassuringly. "I'm just...gonna come
if you keep doin' that."


Joe exhaled, smiling too. He felt his dick throb in his pants at how
confidently, how casually his coach was talking about getting off. Not to
mention the thought of his coach coming deep in his throat... "So what's
wrong with that?"


Tony smiled a little wider, lifting Joe to his feet. "Well, maybe...I want
this to last a little longer."

"Oh?"  Joe wrapped his fingers around his coach's slickened hard-on
again. It was hard as steel, and as Joe tugged up its length, a few drops
of pre-come spilled from the tip. Tony gasped softly, his lips parted.
"Something tells me you got more'n one in you tonight, coach." Joe shucked
Tony's pants and trunks the rest of the way, then casually shoved down his
own sweats, leaving his cock aching into his underwear.  He pushed Tony
back onto the bed. "But I got nothing against making 'em count."


Joe looked down over his coach's body, now bare and inviting. He could only
savor it for a moment before climbing onto the bed, Joe's hard, heavy cock
tugging insistently against his boxer briefs. He bent over his coach's
body, looking up with that cute grin, before leaning in and licking from
the base of Tony's stomach to his belly button, then letting his fingers
follow, teasing the skin. Tony shivered, then outright groaned in pleasure
as Joe took one of his nipples between his teeth. Suddenly Joe Harris was
everywhere, Joe's hands and lips and teeth and tongue appearing and
disappearing, making Tony Bennett tense and relax, squirming like it was
his first time. And in a way it was -- in 44 years, Tony had never been
touched, never been given attention like this.


Then suddenly Joe's lips were on his again, and his star was kissing him
deeply, slowly, needfully, nothing like the hard kiss he'd delivered when
he first walked in. Fuck. He could feel the kid taking control, could feel
Joe working him up, making him feel things he thought he'd never feel
again. Tony was still painfully hard, but Joe was ignoring his cock other
than the occasional brush of Joe's abs against the very tip, which by
itself made the addled coach gasp quietly.


And just as Joe hoped, it finally proved too much. Suddenly Tony reached
up, flipping Joe onto his back and climbing on top of him. He looked down
at Joe Harris, well-muscled, shirtless, looking up at him with a smile that
could melt ice, and a thick, gorgeous 8-inch cock jutting into his briefs
that was so hard Tony couldn't believe Joe hadn't already creamed his
shorts. Tony's own cock bobbed between Joe's legs as he looked down at his
player. He was leaking freely now, leaking like he hadn't in 15 years, he
was so turned on. And Joe was staring right back up at him, his soft gray
eyes just staring at his coach, saying nothing and everything at once.


Tony Bennett slid forward. His cockhead grazed the underside of Joe's
balls, swollen full and heavy with cream, and Joe flinched. Tony didn't
hesitate, easing in further. Joe let his eyes close, let his legs part a
little further. He felt his coach reach up and tuck his fingers under the
waistband of his boxer briefs, then slide them down his well-muscled
legs. "Jesus," Tony whispered. Joe Harris's cock was fucking beautiful as
it strained into the air, pulsing hard with Joe's arousal, the tip wet with
pre-come. Tony reached down, carefully running his fingers up the bare
length of the senior stud's prick.


"Fuck, coach..." Joe whispered. His eyes were still closed as he reached up
and wrapped his own fingers around Tony's cock again, guiding him down,
easing his legs apart. "You got stuff?" the young jock muttered.


"Yeah," Tony said. He reached over to his bag by the bed. Joe opened his
eyes a crack.

"No,

no -- not that." He grabbed the rubber from Tony's hand and tossed it on
the ground. "Just this." He curled his hand around Tony's, popping open the
bottle. "Just...this," Joe added, sliding his other hand up Tony's
cock. Breathing deeply, Tony took over, reaching between Joe's legs,
sliding a single finger along the tight entrance. Joe shuddered, and he
could tell just with that single stroke how fucking tight Joe Harris was.


Joe seemed to read his mind. "I don't...do this much," he murmured.

"It's fine," Tony answered, his voice low and hungry. "I got you." Because
even though Joe Harris had all but seduced him, had been all but begging
for this for weeks if not months, this was still one of his guys, and he'd
give anything and everything before he saw one of them hurt.


Especially this one, Tony thought as he looked down at Joe's naked body,
barely able to contain how much he wanted this stud.

He slicked himself up as carefully as he could, though he still had to shut
his eyes at the pleasure of his own touch. Tony leaned in, pressing Joe's
legs apart and letting his hands rest on Joe's hips. Tony's wet cockhead
slid against Joe's tight hole, and the kid bit his lip.


Tony hesitated an instant. His voice was barely audible. "You sure you--"

"Just fuck me, Tony."

That was it. No more hesitation. It was clear on whose terms this was gonna
play out, and Tony was done holding back. Slowly, but confidently, Tony
Bennett slid his rock-hard cock inside Joe Harris.


"Unnghh..." Joe bit his lip again. "Fuck yeah..." His abs clenched, and his
arms bulged as he gripped the headboard, but he forced himself to relax as
Tony drove deeper. Shit, his coach was big...way thicker than Brogdon, and
longer than Zeglinski. Damn, did it feel good.


And if Joe felt good, then Tony was on cloud nine, feeling Joe's hole warm
and tight around his hard cock, driving deeper and longer, each thrust
opening Joe up a little more. He could tell Joe was telling the truth -- he
didn't do this a lot. And that only made it hotter.


"Fuck, coach..." Joe groaned. "Feels so good." He reached up, tweaked one
of his nipples. "Feel so goddamn full of you."

Tony didn't answer. He was too focused, slowly picking up the pace, staring
down at his star player and barely allowing himself to breathe. Just when
he thought it was too much, that he'd come on the spot, something released
deep inside Joe and he suddenly sank deeper. Joe's eyes shot open and his
hands clenched the bed, his biceps bulging. And Tony -- well, Tony Bennett
went into goddamn overdrive.


"Ungh, FUCK yes..." Tony quickly doubled his pace, then tripled it, fucking
Joe Harris in calm, steady strokes, then harder, and harder, till Joe was
grunting hard and Tony's keys shook on the bedside table with each
thrust. "Fuck me, coach," Joe grunted. "God, fuck me harder, coach..."
Joe's neat brown hair had become disheveled, matted and sweaty against his
forehead. His cock was leaking hard now, clear juice spilling onto his abs,
its full length rock-hard and turning a darker red, the veins popping all
along the thick shaft. Joe reached for his cock but Tony slapped his hand
away.


"Almost there," the coach growled.

And he was -- he could feel a load burning in his balls like he hadn't felt
since he was just out of college, and he knew he couldn't hold it more than
a few seconds longer. Tony kept pumping, his own body slick with sweat, his
eyes fixed on Joe Harris. Finally, just as he felt he couldn't last another
second, Joe's eyes opened.


"Come for me, coach."

And he did. Tony Bennett clenched his eyes and sank deep one last time,
driving hard inside Joe and groaning softly as he emptied his load in hard
spurts.  Joe was coming, too, not even touching his dick as it jerked and
pumped cream all over his stomach, all over his chest, soaking the
bedsheets beneath him as he felt his coach deep inside him.


It was probably more than a minute later when Joe finally opened his eyes
again. He looked up as he felt Tony sliding free, wincing a little, then
letting his lips break into a smile. Tony sat back on his heels, his
still-hard cock waving in front of him. Joe was still hard, too, and Joe
shuddered as he ran a couple fingers over the dripping-wet underside of his
dick.


For once, they didn't have to say a word, coach or player. Tony dropped
down on the bed beside Joe, exhausted but knowing it wouldn't be more than
ten minutes before they were in the thick of it again. The guy was just too
hot, and at 22 damn near as insatiable as Tony had been at his age. But for
a few minutes he just looked into Joe's eyes, stroking his chest. He'd go
to the moon for this kid, and he knew Joe would do the same for him -- and
in just 24 hours, they could be looking Joe's graduation square in the
face.


"I told you we got something, coach," Joe said.

"I know, buddy. I know."