Date: Sun, 14 Mar 2021 22:24:23 +0000 (UTC)
From: Dave B <cubscout88@yahoo.com>
Subject: A Coach for Christmas 2

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A COACH FOR CHIRSTMAS
Chapter 2: The Morning After

There was one rule that Jake had anytime he hooked up with someone: never
spend the night. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the feeling of waking up
next to someone or even sharing breakfast knowing someone actually wanted
him around. But, in his experience, hook-ups were not a thing that happened
between people who wanted the other person around beyond shooting a
load. Even if he could one day see himself being the type of person that
spent the night and had breakfast with someone after sex, it would save him
a lot of anxiety and frustration if he just went home after.

Somehow, in the heat of the moment the previous night, Jake had forgotten
his one rule, and as he woke the next morning, Jerry's arm wrapped around
him, his hairy belly protruding into his back, and his former coach's stiff
morning wood poking him in the butt, Jake felt calm--a feeling he wasn't
accustomed to feeling the morning after.

His head on the pillow, he opened his eyes and stared out the bedroom
window, observing the fine details of the frost in the corners of the
windows. Beyond, he could make out nothing, as the morning sun was
reflecting off the densely packed snow outside and creating that almost
blinding effect that usually followed a fresh winter storm. The distinct
absence of his usual nerves would have normally been a sense of worry in
and of itself for Jake, but lying there, blanketed in warmth, with Coach
Roberts nestled against him, Jake felt different.

It hadn't just been a hook-up in the usual sense, especially not in the
manner he thought it would be going into the night. The whole thing had
been more of a dream come true, a wish fulfilled, a scene sprung right from
his fantasies. It was a happy accident that he had replayed again and again
in his head throughout the night and, for some strange reason, it felt
right.

"Are you awake?" Jerry whispered softly in his ear.

Jake answered by slowly rolling himself over; the tight wrap he had around
himself in the warm blankets made the move a bit difficult.

A smile spread across Jerry's face. He wasn't used to having anyone spend
the night, especially not someone Jake's age, and even more so someone that
had been a former student of his. It was a peculiar situation for him, but
he couldn't deny the warmness it made him feel inside. "Did you sleep
okay?" Jerry asked.

"Yeah," Jake nodded. He pushed his hand into his eye to rub away the
sleep. "I did. And you?"

"That was the best night's sleep I've had in ages," Jerry gushed. "Do you
want to get up and find something to eat, or should we stay in bed all
day?" It was wishful thinking on his part, but Jerry couldn't think of
anything else he'd rather do. "Honestly, I'd prefer the latter," he
continued nervously, hoping Jake wasn't just going to up and leave him like
they usually did, "but I understand you've got things to do. Probably want
to get home to see your fam--"

Jake leaned forward and cut him off with a kiss. The sudden act surprised
both of them, and they each smiled through nervous laughter. "Breakfast
would be great."

"Eggs and turkey bacon okay?" Jerry asked, pulling the covers off himself.

"Turkey bacon?" Jake gave him a suspicious look that quickly transitioned
to one of sheer delight as he watched Coach Roberts slide out of bed and
walk fully nude over to the door. The morning sun cast the old man's body
in a new light, and Jake couldn't help but take it all in. Jerry's ass was
smooth and round, symmetrical and plump; the pale cheeks looked like they
had never seen the sun, unlike Jerry's torso, which was almost two shades
darker.

Grabbing his bathrobe from the hook behind the door, Jerry spun around,
swinging the dark blue fabric around his shoulders as he slid it on. For
the briefest of moments, Jake got to see the front side. Without the white
undershirt to spoil the view, Jake marveled at the dense blanket of fur
that coated Jerry's sturdy pecs and belly. The hair covered every inch of
his body from his neckline to his groin--a sea of black speckled with an
ample amount of gray. The coach's soft cock rested gently on his weighty
nutsack, swinging ever so slightly with the movement of Jerry's body as he
finished putting on the robe.

Jerry caught the shift in Jake's demeanor as his body disappeared from
view. "Yes," he said. "Turkey bacon." He ripped the robe back open and
flashed the young man. "My doctor said I need to lower my cholesterol." He
then turned and left the room.

Tossing the covers off himself, Jake swung his legs over the edge of the
bed and followed. "But what about last night? The burger and the float?"

"My doctor gave me recommendations on how I might live longer," Jerry said,
reaching into the fridge and grabbing the eggs, turkey bacon, and
milk. "Giving up Cherry's food isn't living. So . . . we compromise."

Shutting the door, Jerry realized that Jake had followed him without
putting any clothes on. "My, my . . ." he said before sighing. "Isn't that
a glorious sight."

The attention would've normally made Jake uneasy, but there was something
genuinely sincere about the way Jerry had said it, as if the man was truly
fascinated with what he saw, that made the compliment a welcome one.

"Aren't you cold?" he asked, after he'd seen it all. "Don't get me wrong, I
love the fact that you're comfortable enough here that you're willing to
walk around in the buff, but it is twenty degrees outside."

To be honest, having abandoned the cozy blankets, Jake was a bit cold. He
hadn't really thought about putting clothes on as he followed Jerry out of
the room, but that decision--or lack thereof--was coming back to bite
him. "I guess I just didn't want you to think I was in a hurry to get out
of here, so I didn't want to throw my clothes on." After saying this, his
normal worry about sticking around past his welcome resurfaced and he
panicked. "Unless you want me to go. I mean, I certainly don't want to
overstay my welcome, and I'm sure you have things you need to do, so I can
just get out of here and let you--"

It was Jake's turn to be cut off by a kiss. "Relax," Jerry told him,
recognizing that lack of confidence Jake had always had back in high
school. "I'm not asking you to move in, I've got nowhere to be, and there's
nothing I'd rather do this morning than share a meal with you. Got it?"

Jake sighed, a little embarrassed, and then nodded in agreement. "I guess
I'm not very good at this."

"That's okay. Frankly, I'd be less interested if you were . . . good at it,
that is. I've met guys who just wanted to fuck and move on before;
personally, I appreciate a connection with a little more depth. You don't
have to stay any longer than you are comfortable, but I do appreciate your
willingness to indulge an old man." He turned and set the ingredients on
the counter and bent over to pull a frying pan from the cabinet. "Besides,"
he added, turning back toward Jake, "this is just an old coach and his
former student," he paused, thinking of the right way to say it, "getting
reacquainted. Now, go grab some sweats out of my dresser."

Without saying another word, Jake headed back around the corner and into
the bedroom. To him, it was obvious that Jerry had been a teacher, and not
just because he had been in his class. The way he talked him down, made him
feel like he belonged, was a trait Jake had admired in all his favorite
past educators, and he strove to provide the same level of friendly
guidance to his own students now.

The oak dresser had three large drawers that spanned the width of it and
three smaller drawers along the top row. Thinking there was no way the
sweats would fit in the top row, he instead started with the first of the
big drawers. Pulling it out, he saw two stacks of t-shirts on the left and
an unkempt pile of underwear filling the right. He reached in and pulled
out a Bike jockstrap off the top of the pile. The woven cotton pouch was
off-color, as if time had left its mark in the form of staining from years
of sweat and piss. Jake lifted it to his face and sniffed the pouch. It was
freshly laundered and lacked the sweet smell of Coach Roberts's sweaty
balls, but there was a childish delight Jake felt in the simple act of
feeling that pouch against his face, his nose and mouth pressed somewhere
he had imagined putting it for so many years. Reluctantly, he put it back
and moved on.

In the second drawer, he found the sweats. They were dark gray and a few
sizes too big for him, but they'd be warmer than nothing. He grabbed a top
and a bottom and, as he pulled them from the drawer and the contents inside
shifted, an object rolled out into the open. It was peach-colored, about
seven inches long and an inch-and-a-half wide, with a realistic-looking
scrotum and a suction cup at the base. Jake picked up the dildo and
examined it. It was a bit larger than he was, and pretty rigid, too, with a
soft and smooth rubbery outer layer. Holding the weighty toy in his hands,
he smiled, the thought of Coach Roberts pleasing himself with a sex toy
filling him with a whole new flood of fantasies.

Back in the kitchen, Jerry was already busy frying up the bacon. While the
turkey wasn't as greasy as regular old pork, it sizzled and popped in the
vegetable oil all the same. He took a look at Jake as he re-entered the
room. The young man was practically swimming in the sweats, which were two
sizes too big for him. "Good thing you chunked up or those would never
fit!" he joked.

Jake pulled the sweatshirt out away from his body; there was emptiness
where a belly normally would've been.

"I'm kidding," Coach Roberts said, giving him a quick wink. "You should've
seen the look on your face, though." As he cracked a few eggs into a bowl,
he added, "There's orange juice in the fridge. Glasses are up here," he
said, nodding to the cabinet to his left.

Jake went for the orange juice first, then grabbed some glasses. He set
them in front of the two chairs at the small table and poured them both a
glass of juice just as the toaster popped. "Butter on your toast?" Jerry
asked.

"Absolutely," Jake said, sitting down with his back to the window.

"Good," Jerry replied.

Moments later, he brought over two plates with eggs, bacon, and toast, and
set one down in front of each. Then, he pulled his robe open just enough so
that the fabric wouldn't pull tight as he sat down.

"This looks great," Jake complimented. "It's been some time since I've had
a full breakfast. It's usually just a bowl of cereal before rushing out the
door."

"Thanks," Jerry answered. "I hope it tastes as good as it looks."

Jake took a bite of the eggs and realized they were a bit drier than usual.

"Sorry," Jerry said, seeing his initial reaction. "I'm not much for runny
eggs. There's extra cheese if you need some help getting it down."

"No, no, it's fine. Just wasn't expecting it."

Jerry took a swig of his orange juice and then looked up at Jake. "So, now
that the whiskey has worn off, any regrets?"

Jake didn't even need to think about it. "About last night? Not at all."

Coach Roberts looked relieved. "Good. That's important. As much fun as it
was, I feel a little guilty."

"Why?"

"You're a teacher," he said through a bite of egg. "Wouldn't you feel a
little strange if you slept with one of your students?"

Jake had to admit that that would be a little awkward--and very
illegal--but he hadn't really ever given it much thought. "Former student,"
he countered, "but fair enough, I guess. I'm not into young guys, though,
so I guess that makes it a little easier on my end."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask you about that. How does a high school
student get the hots for his fat, old gym teacher?"

"How does a fat, old gym teacher get the hots for an underage student?"
Jake retorted.

It was Jerry's turn to say, "Fair enough. But beyond our previous
history. I've wondered this about any young guy that is attracted to older
guys. It doesn't make sense at all. For us old farts, you've got
youth. Your bodies are impeccable. What do I possibly have that they
don't?"

That was a good question, and one Jake had pondered for over a decade as he
questioned his own sexuality and his preference for older men. "I guess I'd
have to say the belly."

"So . . . fat?"

"Yes."

"Any kid can have a belly."

"But they're never quite as round, and you've got the hair to cover it, and
the experience. The power."

Jerry's eyebrows raised and his eyes opened wide. "The power? You a sub?"

Jake shrugged. "Sometimes. When it suits me."

The response made Jerry smile. "Okay. So, there were others, right? I
couldn't have been the only one you lusted over," he said, curious to know
which of his former co-workers had also attracted the young man's
gaze. "How did it start?"

Thinking back to the first time he was aware of other men in any sort of
sexual way, he settled on an image of his fifth-grade math teacher. The man
was about five-eight, perfectly average in weight, with a round face that
was clean-shaven. His cheeks were soft, his eyes kind and caring behind his
sizable glasses, and he had a nice, healthy head of gray hair. He had
reminded Jake a lot of his grandfather and, at the time, Jake had wished
the old man had also been his grandfather so he could have spent more time
with him.

"It was Hank Williams in the fifth grade."

"Ha!" Jerry laughed. "Oh, I miss old Hank," he said, thinking about how his
old friend had died of a heart attack years before. "But seriously, it was
Hank? That's kind of early, isn't it?"

Shaking his head, Jake said, "I don't know, is it? To be honest, I started
masturbating long before that, and certainly long before I knew what
masturbation was."

"How so?"

Before he could answer, he realized he had never repeated any of this to
anyone before. It was both a terrify and liberating experience to share his
innermost secrets, and he doubted he could have done it with anyone other
than Coach Roberts. "I was in preschool--" he started.

"Preschool!" Jerry exclaimed. "Now I know you're pulling my chain."

"No, stop. I'm being serious," Jake said. "It wasn't masturbation per se,
not in the traditional sense, but in preschool I used to lay on my stomach
during naptime. On some days, when I couldn't sleep, I'd lay there and rub
myself on the cot. Just shifting my hips back and forth. It was a nice
feeling, I suppose, my penis rubbing against the inside of my pants. Later,
as I got a little older, I realized the same tactic worked in delaying the
need to pee. I guess, in a way, that was because I was pleasuring
myself. Then one day, stuff came out."

"By frotting on furniture," Jerry offered.

"Yes. I didn't learn that word till much later, obviously."

"Do you still do it?" Jerry asked.

Jake shook his head no. "It kind of kills the sensitivity down there, so I
had to stop."

That makes sense, Jerry thought. "You probably have no idea, but for
someone who taught sex ed for decades, this is fascinating stuff," he
gushed. "What does this have to do with Hank? Did the old man let you frot
on him?"

The thought of such an encounter was tantalizingly sweet. "As much as I'd
like to say yes, no, that never happened. Mr. Williams was just a really
nice teacher. The nicer he was, the more I liked him. I never set out to
have a thing for him, but one day after school, he was in the gym shooting
hoops while I waited for my dad to pick me up. After a while, Mr. Williams
quit, and I was still waiting. After a bit longer, I had to pee, so I went
into the locker room and there he was, standing at a locker with nothing on
but his white briefs. I was mesmerized," Jake said, his eyes glazing over
as he remembered the moment. "I had never seen anything like it."

"But Hank wasn't fat."

"No, but he had enough silver hair on his body to capture the fantasies of
a ten-year-old boy."

"And after that you knew?"

Shaking his head, Jake said, "I knew something. What that was, I don't
know." He paused and took a bite of his turkey bacon. It wasn't all that
bad, but it certainly didn't beat the real stuff. After he was done
chewing, he took a drink of his juice and then continued. "I'd say that was
probably when I touched myself for the first time. I have no clue why I did
it; it just seemed like the right thing to do for some reason. The same
stuff came out as the other times, but this time, I could see it. I could
feel the semen ejaculate from my body--this opaque white liquid I knew
nothing about--and instead of wondering what was going on, I did it more
and more. Soon after, I noticed Bob the janitor."

"Now he was fat," Jerry laughed. Sadly, Bob had also since passed.

"Yes, but I wasn't singling in on that or anything. It was the total
picture. I don't know what it was about him, it just all looked good. And
then there was Mr. K in the seventh grade. It wasn't that I even wanted to
do anything with them. I didn't even know people did stuff like sex
then. They just fueled my fire, some hidden inspiration for my alone time."

Jerry prodded further, loving that Jake was opening up to him like
this. "And in high school?"

"In high school, there was Principal Powers, Coach Isaacs, Mr. Hughes, and,
well, you. The total package."

Coach Roberts couldn't help but smirk at this.

"By that time, I knew what sex was--or was starting to get an idea--and for
the first time, I wanted to touch someone. I wanted to have you pin me down
on the matt, your belly and crotch pressing into me. The fantasy was so
real I could almost feel it sometimes. But you were the teacher, and I was
the student. It was never going to happen."

"Yeah, well, apparently we both need to rethink the word "never." I would
have never thought that little Jake Huebner--the shy, scrawny boy that
couldn't even shower after gym class--would ever be picking up older men
online. And that goes double for that old man being me."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess," Jake replied. Then,
realizing what he said, he added, "Not you specifically. I wasn't saying I
was so desperate and you were my only option. I'm quite glad it was you. I
just meant--"

Jerry held up a hand and stopped him. "I know what you meant."

Jake sighed in relief.

"And what now? I can tell you don't do this often, but any plans to settle
down?" Before waiting for a response, he stood up and walked over to the
coffee maker. "Go on, I'm listening. I just need my morning fix."

"No," Jake said. "I'm still not sure my parents would take it so
well. There have been a few meetings here and there, mostly one-night
stands. I had a professor from BCU that I met up with a few times, but his
wife caught on, so that fizzled out. What about you?"

As he sat back down with his coffee in hand, Jerry took a swig and felt the
caffeine course through his veins. "You know Castorville. The pickings are
slim. And what guys there are, they don't want an old codger like me. I've
got one friend that stops by from time to time, but nothing beyond that."

"That explains the toy in the drawer," Jake remarked with a grin.


"You saw that?"

"I did more than see it," Jake replied. "It's got some heft."

"Yes," he admitted. "I suppose when the winter nights get lonely, a man
works his way up the chain rather quickly."

"I've never used one before."

"Really? They're not as good as the real thing, that's for sure, but they
work when you've got a craving and there's no one else around."

Having finished his breakfast, Jake leaned back in his chair and shook his
head.

"What?" Jerry asked.

"Nothing . . . I mean, I just can't believe I'm sitting here in Coach
Roberts' house, wearing his sweats, talking about shoving dildos up our
asses. It's just not what I expected the holidays to be like this year
. . . or any year for that matter!"

The former coach stood up--his parting robe giving Jake another brief
glimpse of his manhood before it was stolen away again--and took their
plates to the sink. "Sorry they're such a bummer for you this year," he
said, turning back to Jake and waiting for a response.

Jake started to insist that they weren't a bummer, that they were in fact
the greatest holidays he had ever had, and the holidays hadn't even
happened yet. Before he could speak, he saw the wry smile on Jerry's face
and knew the man was just being sarcastic.

"Listen, Jake," Jerry said. "I could sit here all day and pick your brain
about all things sex, and I hate to even bring it up since I'm enjoying our
time together so much, but weren't you supposed to spend time with Zach
today?"

Peering over Jerry's shoulder, Jake saw for the first time that it was
after 11:00. They had talked the morning away. He was supposed to meet Zach
at noon.

"Shit," he uttered, standing up. "You're right. I'm supposed to meet him at
noon. I know you said you hate it when guys just fuck and move on, and I
really hate to rush out on you like this, but I've got to go."

"I understand," Jerry said. "You spent the night and stayed for breakfast;
I'd hardly call that a blow-and-go."

"I know that," Jake said. "I think I just enjoyed this more than I normally
do, and I don't want you to think-"

"It's fine. Go."

Jake started toward the hallway but then realized there was no way he would
make it home in time to clean up first, especially since he hadn't had the
chance to see his family the night before like he was supposed to. "Is
there any chance I could shower here?"

"Of course," the old man said, "but only if I can join you."

Jake looked at the clock again. He didn't really have time for games; but
Jerry, knowing what a dilemma it would be for Jake and his OCD to arrive at
Zach's late, did his best to tempt the boy. He untied the rope of his robe
and let the garment fall open. It took only seconds of gazing upon the
coach's hairy belly and dangling participle to make up his mind.

"That's not fair," Jake said through an anguished smile. "You're cheating."

"My house, my rules," Jerry replied, before nodding his head in the
direction of the bathroom.

Jake tried to make it seem like he was reluctant but, in reality, he was
dying for another shot at his old coach. "Fine, but we have to make it
quick."

"Of course," Jerry said, with no intention of making anything quick.

They both entered the bathroom and Jerry let the robe drop to the floor as
he walked through the door. He wrapped his arms around Jake and slid them
up the over-sized sweatshirt, feeling the young man's pecs in earnest for
the first time. There were thin strands of hair sprinkled across Jake's
chest; Jerry caressed them with his fingers as he squeezed the cupped pecs
with his hands. His bare cock poked the back of the sweatpants and nestled
in the gap just below Jake's ass.

He rested his head on Jake's shoulder. The young man leaned his own back
and nestled it against the older's. Jerry wiggled his hips back and forth,
moving his cock around between Jake's legs and let out a moan. "Mmmm . . ."

He spun Jake around and planted a kiss on him, not waiting even a second
before sliding his tongue in his mouth. A simple tug on the waistband
dropped the oversize sweatpants to the floor. Without looking, his hand
found the young man's cock and wrapped its digits around the rigid shaft,
squeezing it tightly. A small bead of liquid oozed out the tip, and his
thumb slid through it, spreading the pre-cum across the head.

Pulling him in tighter, he pressed his nude body against Jake and embraced
him, not wanting to let go. His hands reached around and found Jake's butt,
and he gripped it firmly, letting his middle finger sneak in and push
against the tight hole.

Jake pushed back against the finger and groaned. In doing so, he pulled
Jerry back with him and the two fell against the wall. "Ow," Jake said, his
back arched over the towel rack.

Jerry tried to apologize, but Jake shut him up by forcing his face back on
Jerry's, pushing himself off the wall and back on the offensive. Jerry
grabbed the sweatshirt and pulled it over Jake's head, leaving them both
fully nude, and they wrapped themselves around one another once again.

After several minutes of kissing and fondling, Jerry pulled away. "Shall we
get wet?"

"Can we keep doing this instead?" Jake half asked, half begged, his meeting
with Zach already far from his mind.

It wasn't that Jerry wanted to see Jake go--far from it--but he did want to
respect that Jake had other things to do than spend his entire break with
him. He'd keep the young man there permanently if he had the chance, but he
was much too realistic to expect anything like that. "Why don't we
multitask," he suggested, reaching for the faucet.

The water sprayed from the shower, and the two men climbed inside. After
closing the curtain, Jerry turned inward and looked at the water raining
down on Jake. His thick brown hair was matted down, water flowing off of
him, warming him as it ran across his chest and body. The view was
breathtaking for Jerry, and he could feel his insides swell as he took a
deep breath.

Sufficiently wet, Jake stepped forward and re-embraced his former
coach. The old man leaned back against the cold wall of the shower as Jake
pressed against him, and the two kissed deeply once more. The tips of their
erections touched one another, sending a wave of chills up Jake's body. He
broke off the kiss and brought his face down into Jerry's fur, where he
buried it deeply. It was one of the great joys he got from sex--burying his
face in fur--and this chest was a cherry on top of a glorious Christmas
dessert.

His hands reached up and found their way to Jerry's pecs, squeezing the
hairy flesh as Jake slid down and around the wonderful belly until he was
on his knees. It was the closest view he'd had to Jerry's cock, and he was
surprised at how much thicker it looked up closely. I don't think I could
take that, he thought, imagining himself bent over the bed being pounded
from behind.

As if he was reading his thoughts, Jerry said, "Don't worry, if you ever
come back for more, we'll take it slow."

Jake didn't know if he'd make it back before break was over--his mother
always seemed to have plans for him that she never mentioned until the last
second--but the thought of spending more time with Coach Roberts filled him
with such excitement, he couldn't take it any longer. He opened wide and
gorged himself on the old man's dick, squeezing the fat sausage as deep
into his mouth as he possibly could. With some difficulty and a little
luck, he managed to get most of it down so that his nose was nestled snugly
among the dense forest of pubes at its base. He breathed in, trying to
claim what musk still lingered from the day before, but the act caused him
to choke, and he had to pull out.

With the water running down his back, he plunged again, going right back
down to the base. And then he did it again. And again. Jerry let out a loud
moan, telling Jake what he was doing was working, as he placed his hands on
the back of his wet head. As Jake slurped and slopped on the old man's
dick, Jerry's hefty balls swung like wrecking balls smashing against Jake's
chin. After several minutes of this, Jerry pulled Jake's head back by the
hair, causing the young man to open his mouth and cry out.

The cock fell loose from his mouth, and Jerry grabbed it with his free
hand, giving it a few violent tugs before sending his hot, sticky load
bursting out and all over Jake's face. He caught it all--some with his
forehead, some with his nose, a bit on the eyes, and a lot finding its way
right into his gaping mouth. The taste was sweet and bitter, like a vintage
red wine. Jerry pulled Jake back to his feet and extended his tongue,
licking the cum dripping off his former student's chin, tracing the trail
up to his lips and sticking his tongue in the guy's mouth once more.

They slowly rotated as they kissed and, once Jake was against the wall,
Jerry spun him around and embraced him from behind. His hard cock now had
full access to the young man's backside, and Jerry wasted no time sliding
it in the nook between his legs, sending his throbbing pulse through Jake's
body. "Bend over," Jerry said sternly.

Jake did as he was told. With his hands against the wall, he stuck his ass
out. Jerry stepped back to allow the act and, as he did so, he took a
knee. The smooth white ass was now in his face, and Jerry lifted his hands
and spread the cheeks so that he was face-to-face with Jake's hole for the
first time. Sticking his tongue out, he moved his head forward and buried
it deep in the ass, rolling it up to penetrate as deeply as possible.

"Fuck," Jake said. Nobody had ever done that to him before, and the whole
act was quite unexpected.

This expression only made Jerry want it more. With ferocious veracity, he
fucked the hole with his tongue, eating Jake's ass with reckless
abandon. It was sloppy, it was wet, and it was so incredibly intense that
both men were soon gasping for breath.

The whole thing was such a turn-on that Jake couldn't help but stroke
himself, and he found himself only wanting more. But he didn't get it, as
just as things were reaching a climax, Jerry spun him back around and
devoured his dick. Jake exploded on impact, blasting his load directly down
the coach's throat.

Finished and weak in the knees, he slid down the shower wall and sat there,
his chest beating hard. Jerry turned over and sat next to him. The water
beat down on both of them.

"I've never had anyone do that to me before," Jake said.

"What? Rim?" Jerry asked. "I love a good hole, especially on a young guy
like you. Come over anytime you like, and I'll do it again."

"Really?" Jake asked.

"Certainly." Turning to look at the young man, he said, "I like you
Jake. Have for a long time. Even if we never have sex again, you can always
call me if you need me, got it?"

Jake nodded. "Yeah. Thanks. Though I hope we get to have sex, too."

Jerry smiled. "Me too."

They sat for a moment in silence, both men silently reliving their
experience together over the past day. Then, "What do you say?" Jerry
asked. "Time to call it a day?"

Reluctantly, Jake responded, "I suppose. Zach's going to kill me."

"You can blame it on me, if you want. I'm sure he'd love to hear about your
sex with the teacher."

"Believe me, he knows about my fantasies of you . . . but, I think I might
keep this one to myself."

"Why?"

"Because sometimes keeping it a secret makes it hotter somehow."

The two men got out of the shower and dried off. Jake put on his own
clothes and Jerry, in his robe, saw him to the door.

"This has been quite a treat, Jake. I'm glad we did this."

"Me too. I'm glad we got--what was the word you used?--reacquainted. I'll
see you around, old man."

Jerry looked at him sternly. "That's Coach Old Man to you, Huebner."

As Jake walked down the sidewalk, Jerry went back inside and went to get
dressed. He opened his drawer and saw the jockstrap was out of place. He
held it up and grinned, knowing Jake had been rooting through his
drawers. Then, he got an idea. He grabbed the soiled and torn jockstrap
from the night before and rushed to the door, hoping to catch Jake before
he was gone.

Opening the door, he was surprised to find Jake standing on the porch. He
caught his breath and said, "Good, you're still here. I wanted to give you
a small Christmas gift to show how much this meant to me."

"Oh yeah?" Jake said.

Jerry extended his hand and gave Jake the jockstrap. "I figured you might
want one that's a little more worn."

Jake's face lit up with glee. "Thanks. I'll save this for later."

"I didn't think I'd catch you. What are you still doing here?"

"Well," Jake said. "You're kind of my ride."

   					* * * * *

Zach was waiting for Jake when he arrived at the house. "You're late," Zach
said, pointing to the clock on the living room wall. Zach's OCD wasn't as
bad as Jake's was, but the two certainly didn't help each other in that
department.

"I know. Sorry," he said. "I bumped into Coach Roberts. He says, Hello."

"I just saw him last night," Zach replied. "He pops into the gas every now
and then. He asked about you."

"He asked about me?"

Zach nodded. "He does that from time to time. Seems like you left just as
much of an impression on him as he did you."

Images of his wild night with Coach Roberts filled his mind and a smile
crossed his face. He thought to himself, You can say that again . . .


©2021
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