Date: Wed, 3 May 2017 20:59:35 +0000 (UTC)
From: Short Guy <short_guy@yahoo.com>
Subject: LOOKING UP

You posted this story already but I'm told there are terrible formatting
problems with it. I've created a new version here that strips as much
formatting as I can out of the story. If possible can you delete the other
version and upload this one in its place?

Looking up
by Short Guy

This story was inspired by a hunky Nifty reader who told me he imagined
himself as the dad, the teacher, or the coach in my stories getting it on
with a younger guy. And his incredible body pics sure gave me an instant
rise where it counts. He (and his pics) got my imagination running
overtime. This is for Jack.

Please remember that Nifty needs your donations to provide these stories.

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html


Looking up part 1

Gym was always a nightmare for me. I had a growth spurt when I was twelve
and for about few months I was the tallest boy in the class. But after
that, I stopped growing while the other guys shot up like weeds. Suddenly I
was no longer a tall guy. I was a shrimp. I was five two and, well, that
was fucking short compared to other guys.


Oh I was mature physically. Too fucking mature. I had started jacking off
and shooting cum when I was ten. And at twelve when the growth spurt
happened, I had to start shaving and got hair on my chest and legs. I was
just twelve years old but I looked like a college kid -- a short one. I had
a boyish 12-year-old face and a lithe little body but I had a man's stubble
on my cheeks, hair on my chest, and a muscular ass that cried out to be
palmed and fucked. I was a boy and a man at the same time -- a combination
I would later learn drove some grown men wild with lust.

There were three problems.

First, I was so fucking horny all the time, it was driving me crazy. I was
jerking off four or five times a day. But my parents and society told me I
could not have sex with another human being until I was much much older. I
was hot to trot but was not allowed to plant my seed anywhere it needed to
go. I was a sex maniac forced to be a monk. I was so fucking frustrated it
was killing me.

Second, I was clearly a "pervert" and a "homo" as my seventh grade math
teacher called guys like me in our sex ed class. Since I was six years old,
all I thought about were guys. Girls were great as friends but it was the
guys' bodies I stared at. It was guys' handsome faces I wanted to kiss. It
was their bodies I wanted to touch. Their pecs, their biceps, their
asses. And I had to keep all that shit to myself. I had to stop myself from
staring. I had to stop myself from letting anyone know that when I stroked
my boy cock, when I shot my thick loads, the images in my mind were my
friends Dan and Derrick, my hunky muscular science teacher, Mr Marino, and
my handsome manly neighbor Mr Andrews.

Third, I was not only short for a guy, I was really short. When I entered
high school at 14, I was the shortest guy in the school. And not only that,
the other guys outweighed me by 20, 30 pounds. I weighed 115 in my
underwear. My body was tight, hard, wiry but I was thin (except for my
bubble butt, the one that I later learned drove several of my teachers
bonkers with lust). I wanted to be taller. I wanted to be more muscular. I
wanted to be like those other guys who were now half a foot to a foot
taller than me. I wanted... fuck I wanted those guys. I fucking wanted them
so bad.

By the time I got to high school, I found myself surrounded by guys who got
me hard all the time. That included the teachers, the coaches, my
classmates. It included my friends' fathers and our neighbors. It included
all the grown men I would come across, at the doctor's office, at church,
in the grocery store. Other guys were like giants compared to me and
looking up at them made me feel overwhelmed by their masculinity. Walking
around school, when I looked up, I could see their handsome grinning
faces. I could see their nostrils flaring as they preened before the
teenage girls. I I wanted to kiss them so badly I would almost faint. When
I looked up, I could see their muscular bulging pecs above me. With just a
little move of my head upwards, I could imagine sucking on their nipples
which were at the level of my nose.

And looking down was even worse. If I wanted to make sure not to be caught
staring into someone's beautiful blue eyes or a hot guy's dark smoldering
brown eyes underneath his heavy sexy eyebrows, I'd look down to make sure I
did not make eye contact. But fuck me, down was where their cocks were. And
blue jeans did nothing to hide their full mysterious packages encasing
their thick bulging penises. No, jeans were no help; they fucking pushed
guys' cocks out front like a fucking battering ram. And when I looked down,
it was impossible to avoid staring at these hunky guys' packages. I was so
fucking short I could not help but look straight at the crotch of every guy
I passed in the hall. They were right there, right in front of my face for
God's sake.

And the male teachers were no better. They were also taller than me and
their crotches were right in my line of sight in every class. Some of them
were only about 5 or 6 six older than the students but others were hunky
daddies in their forties or fifties. I want to kneel before them. I wanted
to sit in their laps. I wanted them to hug me like I was their son. I
wanted... Fuck me, I wanted them to fuck me. There, I said it. I fucking
wanted to feel the power in my teachers' cocks; I wanted to feel it in
me. I wanted them to give me their manhood, to let me experience it, just a
little. Well, fuck it, more than just a little. I had no idea what it would
feel like to get fucked. All I knew was that I jacked off every day
thinking about it.

It's like I was dying of thirst and there were drinking fountains all
around me right in front of my parched lips. But I knew that if I indulged,
if I looked too long, if I let someone know how thirsty I was, the fountain
would turn to poison, and some guy would rat me out as a fag and ruin my
life. God I wanted to suck all those cocks and sit on my teachers' cocks
but no one made a move on me and I would have been fucked if I had let them
know I was interested.

Being caught gazing at a guy's crotch would have been even worse than being
caught dewy-eyed and staring into their eyes or fixating on their muscular
pecs. So I took to looking at the floor, making me bump into people. My
reputation as a clumsy klutz was complete.

And gym class. Fuck it, gym class was the worst. Not only was it filled
with hunky handsome hormone-filled guys but they were all wearing skimpy
gym shorts that showed off their muscular thighs --- thighs I wanted to
fucking lick all over. Those thighs were thick and muscular; they were
twice as big as mine, for fuck's sake. I wanted to touch them so badly.

And the jock straps everyone wore pushed out their powerful cocks in front
of them even more than their jeans did, literally putting their powerful
manhood right in my fucking face. And the T-shirts showed off their pecs,
their shoulders, and their biceps. It was like being in the middle of a
porno movie but I was not allowed to act or even watch. It was a nightmare
trying not to look at the hunky teenage boys and show how much I was in awe
of their manliness.

And not only was I the shortest and the smallest one around, but I was a
total fuckup at phys ed. I couldn't play sports to save my life. Basketball
dribbling was a disaster. I would hit my foot and the ball would scamper
away like it was scared of me. Football meant getting tackled by monster
guys even though it was supposed to be touch football. Baseball meant
striking out and dropping fly balls. Nobody wanted me on their team.

And then there was wrestling. You would think that wrestling would be
enticing to a gay boy. Not for me. Fuck it, the guy who was closest to me
in size was twenty-five pounds heavier than me and five inches taller. The
coach was Coach Hardin. He taught us how to wrestle but after the first two
seconds it just turned into a fight with the coach egging us on. I got
pinned every time of course. And not just pinned but squeezed, tossed
around, picked up off the ground and thrown down. That's right, you heard
me right. The two guys that were picked to wrestle me liked to pick me up,
twirl me around, hold me three feet off the mat, and thrown me down. It was
humiliating. It was painful. It made me question my masculinity. It made me
feel inferior and depressed. And the damn coach would just watch it all and
laugh at me. It was a fucking nightmare.

Gym class was a constant embarrassment for me, both because I couldn't do
anything right and because I was always the last picked for teams and
because I had to control my desire to stare at the hunky manly guys
surrounding me -- including the jerk of a coach who got off on seeing me
picked up and thrown down on the mat. I hated Coach Hardin for letting me
be tossed around like that. I hated him for laughing at me.

But none of that stopped me from thinking about licking his heavy hairy
muscular coach pecs or sucking on his gigantic nipples. None of that
stopped me from going home to jack off while thinking about sucking his
hard throbbing Italian cock. Coach Hardin my ass. All I could think about
at home was how muscular he was, how rugged his features, and how his
hardon would feel on my tongue. I hated myself for being attracted to a guy
who let bigger guys bully me. But I also felt guilty about being attracted
to guys and may even have felt I deserved to be treated like shit. It was
almost an S&M thing. I was attracted to Coach Hardin because of his
masculine body and his studly demeanor and even because of the way he
exerted power over me. I got hard thinking about submitting to him, sinking
to my knees, looking up at him, and being forced to open my mouth and
service his throbbing dick. I got off on thinking about him laughing at me
as he shoved his penis in my face and forced me to suck his thick coach
cock.

Fuck it, I was screwed.

I could not stop jacking off thinking about sucking Coach Hardin's hard
dick or sitting in his lap until he shoved his cock into my teenage ass. I
could not stop myself from looking at guys in their skimpy gym outfits and
getting a boner. My saving grace was that all the guys got boners at the
slightest provocation. It was normal. What was not normal was the way I
could not stop staring at the hunky guys around me or jacking off as I
imagined sucking their nipples. Sooner or later someone would notice that I
was a fucking fag. And my life would be over.

Or so I thought.

But then I met Coach Jack. And my life changed forever.

It was the beginning my junior year in high school. I was 16. Jack Johnson
took over from Coach Hardin as our gym teacher. And from the moment I met
him things got better.

I had always imagined looking up at guys and feeling small and weak in
comparison to them. I had imagined servicing them because they were real
men and I was a little boy wanting to be a man, thinking I might share
their manhood if they would let me feel their muscles and suck their cocks
and fucking swallow their thick cum. I had always gotten hard seeing the
height and weight difference between me and other guys. It got me stiff as
a bat to look up at the tall guys and the teachers like they were gods and
I was a devout worshipper.

With Coach Jack it was different. He taught me to be a man. He taught me
that I already was a man. He taught me that neither my height nor my
attraction to guys nor my lack of skills at sports made me less of a man
than any other guy.

I didn't look up at Coach Jack. I looked up to him.

I admired Coach Jack. I learned from him. I felt safe with him. He was a
father figure in every way. When I saw him I did not feel weak. When I saw
him I did not feel ashamed. When I saw him I did not feel inferior to other
guys. He was what I wanted to be. Not because he was muscular and handsome
but because he was a nice guy, because he taught me how to make it in the
world, because he taught me how to fit into my own skin. I looked up to
Coach Jack because he treated me with respect and because he taught me how
to respect myself. I looked up to Coach Jack because of his kindness and
his quiet strength. I looked up to Coach Jack because he taught me that it
was OK to get hard when I saw a handsome hunk. I looked up to Coach Jack
because he knew what I needed and he generously gave it to me. I looked up
to Coach Jack because he taught me to love myself. Coach Jack was handsome,
he was muscular, he was manly, he had a smile that made me warm inside, he
had a body to die for. My dad was a good guy but I could not confide in him
about the "wanting to suck dick" thing. Coach Jack saw what other people
could not see in me. He was the father I needed. He was the man I yearned
to be.

Don't get me wrong. I looked up to Coach Jack for other reasons as well. He
was, shall we say, a hunk and a half. He had muscular beautiful pecs with
large nipples. He had an almost impossibly small impossible waist and broad
muscular shoulders, giving him the exaggeted V-shape of a Superman or a
gymnast. Fuck did he get me hard. He had the biceps of a body builder and
the thighs of a runner. And his eyes, oh God, his eyes, made me feel like I
was sinking into a soft bed, entrapped and mesmerized. He was, without a
doubt, the sexiest, manliest man I had ever seen.

I looked up to Coach Jack because he helped me and I admired him and
appreciated his kindness. But fuck it to hell, in the fullness of time, I
also looked up to Coach Jack as he put his hands on my shoulders. I looked
up to Coach Jack as he gently pushed me to my knees. I looked up to Coach
Jack as he slid down his gym shorts. I looked up to Coach Jack as he
released his long thick throbbing cock from his jock strap and caressed my
cheeks with it. I looked up to Coach Jack as he put his hand behind my head
and guided my mouth where it wanted to go. I looked to Coach Jack as his
daddy cock entered my mouth. And I looked up to Coach Jack as I sucked
every last fucking drop out of his beautiful powerful cock. I looked to
Coach Jack as I serviced him. I looked to Coach Jack as I swallowed his
cum. I looked up to Coach Jack as I became his boy. I looked up to Coach
Jack as he taught me that a cocksucker like me was a real man.

That's what this story is about. It's about how I stopped looking up at
guys and learned to look up to Coach Jack. It's the story of how Coach Jack
made me a man. It's the story of how Jack made me his man.

Looking up part 2

Jack Johnson was the complete opposite of that asshole Hardin. The first
day of gym class when I saw Coach Jack walk in I was hooked. Coach Jack was
muscular like Coach Hardin but he had the body of a gymnast or a swimmer,
not a football player. He was clean shaven but he had hairy legs and hairy
pecs; I could see his chest hair poking out at his throat where his polo
shirt was unbuttoned. He was fucking manly, but he also had beautiful,
hypnotic eyes and an amazing smile. He had that incredible V-shape. He was
taller than me for sure and he was a grown man, the kind I was intensely
attracted to, the kind I wanted to be like. And his biceps stood up like
the Empire State Building.

Seeing him walk into the class was like the sun parting the clouds. His
whole manner radiated kindness and warmth. He was clearly not going to be
one of those mean, sarcastic jerks that I had always had in gym class. And
he proved it with the very first thing he did.

"All right, you guys, it's time for a little B-ball. We're gonna divide up
into two groups with each group playing half a court and just using one
hoop. Here on my left I want the jocks, the guys who know how to play. Here
on my right I want the hacks, the ones who can't play worth a damn. You
know who you are." A bunch of guys sniggered. The coach smiled. "You know
you do. Divide up now."

I was stunned. Nothing like that had ever happened before. At first I was
worried that I'd be standing alone on the "hack" side. Who wants to admit
they're a fucking screw up at sports? But, to my surprise, the class
divided up pretty evenly. Turns out there were a lot of guys like me who
felt funny playing with the jocks. I wasn't the only one they had made fun
of or bullied. When things settled down, there were fifteen guys on the
"jock" side of the gym and ten of us on the "hack" side.

Coach Jack was right. We knew who we were. And we knew who we wanted to
play with. The jocks, they were happy not to play with us fuckups. They
could focus on improving their game rather than watching us drop the ball
and miss when they threw it to us. And the hacks, man, we were happy to be
free of the humiliation of playing with the studs.

We started to play and someone threw me the ball. I looked around to see
who to throw it to. I usually got rid of it as quickly as possible; that's
what the jocks wanted us to do so they could manage the ball and we were
supposed to just keep out of the way. But as I looked around I realized no
one here was any good. They didn't know how to dribble any better than I
did. And most of them were shaking their heads like, "no, don't throw it to
me, I'll just drop it." So I gave up and I started to dribble. I wasn't
good but since I did not have to worry about the jocks acting like jerks
and humiliating me, I calmed down and I didn't do so bad. Actually I did
better than ever. Over time, we all got better because we finally were able
to practice. And unbelievably, Coach Jack actually taught us stuff. He
helped us. He showed us how to do things and he did not make us feel
ashamed that we did not already know. He did not humiliate us.

It was a miracle. A gym teacher that actually taught us how to do things
and who encouraged us as we got better.

And another thing, wrestling was canceled. Both my freshman and sophomore
year, a couple of guys had broken an arm or a collar bone in wrestling in
gym class. The parents got fed up and stopped it.  What a fucking relief.

Instead we had gymnastics. It was the only sport where being small was an
advantage. I wasn't a body builder but I had great upper body strength for
my size. I did more chin ups than anyone else. I climbed the rope like a
monkey. I was able to do some stuff on the side horse and the rings and the
mat. And when I my arms and legs were not strong enough, Coach Jack did not
make me feel like a wimp, he just said I would have to do pushups and lift
weights to build up strength and he showed me how.

He was doing stuff that some fathers do with sons but my dad never did. He
helped me. He made me stronger. He helped me get better. And with his
guidance and his teaching, I bulked up. I got pecs that stuck out in
front. My ass got even rounder, harder, firmer. My thighs bulked up. My
shoulders popped. And my waist was still a skinny 28 inches. Superman my
ass. Coach Jack was making me look more like him.

Don't get me wrong. I still got a hard on when I saw the other guys and
every time Coach Jack walked in the room. But he treated me like a person,
like someone who mattered, and he got my mind off things so I could train
and grow. Of course, getting more muscular didn't hurt in the libido
department. Fuck I got turned on just looking at my own muscles in the
mirror.

And there was another thing. Gymnastics and body building required doing
things the right way, using the right form. And the way Coach Jack showed
me was by doing it himself and them guiding me. And that guiding, well, he
did it by touching me to show me how to stand and move my limbs. He spotted
me. He lifted me up to the rings. He caught me if I fell. He held onto my
ass as I tried out moves on the side horse. Gym class was a fucking
dream. Sexy Coach Jack spent time with every student but as far as I was
concerned all that mattered was the times he spent with me, and the feel of
his daddy hands on my ass, my thigh, my arm, my waist.

I fucking loved feeling Coach Jack's hands on my body as he guided me
through routines. I did sort of wonder about whether he needed to touch me
so much. And whether it was normal for him to grip my boy butt like
that. But it felt too good for me to care. And he was too nice to all the
guys for me to be scared about being found out as a fag. That body touching
thing must just have been a thing that sporty guys did, like when the
coaches would slap the studs on their asses after practice. And guiding us
to good form, well, how else would you do it?

But I did notice sometimes how his hands would linger, how he would almost
caress my ass and my thighs, how he would keep touching me even after I had
tried out my moves.

And then there was his smile, the way he lit up when he saw me. I know he
smiled at other guys too, of course I know that. It's one reason we all
liked him so much. We felt like he saw us, like he really saw us and was
glad we were there, like we were important. But still, when he looked at
me, his eyes crinkled, they seemed even to glisten a little. He looked at
me the way a proud dad looks at his boy. He looked at me the way you look
at someone who love. He looked at me like I had made his day. And sometimes
he looked at me with an intensity that was perplexing. I later learned, of
course, that that was the way he looked at me when he was imagining fucking
my muscular gymnast ass.

Don't get me wrong. He kindness and his sunny smile didn't stop me from
stroking out the biggest and hottest loads my life thinking about what
Coach Jack would look like naked. Or how it would feel to sink to my knees
in front of him and slip down that jock strap to reveal his humongous man
meat. Or bending over and feeling this coach cock teasing my tight asshole.

Fuck it all, Coach Jack started to be my main jackoff fantasy. The feel of
his hand on my ass made me want to give myself over to him. The light in
his eyes made me want to kiss those manly lips. The curve of his pecs made
me want to suck on his daddy nipples. And that enormous bulge in his shorts
made me want to sink to my knees and, fuck it, I wanted to see what he had
down there so badly. His pouch was full, his cock was obviously long, and
his balls were round and firm against the fabric of his tight gym
shorts. He had a big cock. He was a stud. He was a grown man. I fucking
wanted him so badly that I sometimes had to concentrate not to jizz my
shorts in the middle of gymnastics practice.

It was all jack off fantasy at first until I hurt my back.

Coach Jack saw me wince in pain after doing a thing on the side horse. He
helped me walk to his office on one side of the locker room. The class hour
was almost over so he sent the guys to the showers while he took care of
me. I

Coach Jack had me stand near the end of the table in his office where he
gave massages to the jocks when they pulled muscles. It hurt too much for
me to lay down on the table so he slowly bent me over so my chest was on
the table and my feet were still on the floor. I groaned. My back gave a
spasm and it fucking hurt.

"OK, OK little guy," he said behind me. "Just a sec."

I heard him walk away and then heard a click.

Ouch, I thought, as a spasm came and "holy fuck" I thought as I realized he
had locked the office door.

He walked back to me and put his hands right where my ass met my lower back
muscles. He pressed down on the muscles and moved up and down from my lower
back to the top of my glutes. Oh God his hands felt good. They were hot and
strong. It was Coach Jack... Oh God oh God oh God. He was pressing on the
muscles, kneading them like dough. I spasmed again and moaned with pain. He
kept on the pressure. The spasm stopped. Slowly I felt better. What he was
doing with his hands, it helped. Fuck me, it helped.

"Whatever you're doing with your hands, keep doing it," I said. "God does
that feel good."

"OK," he chuckled, moving his hands down a bit so he was gripping my ass
cheeks and squeezing them.

The spasms had stopped. The pain was subsiding. It wasn't going to be one
of those injuries that lingered. I could already feel the muscles relaxing.

What was not relaxing was my cock. Coach Jack's hands on my ass were giving
me a fucking hard on. I couldn't help it, I spread my legs as if to give
him greater access. I may even have pushed my ass up to meet his hands.

What if he saw my boner?

"I have study hall, coach," I said, uncertainly. "They're going to mark me
absent."

"Not a problem, Guy," he said. "I'll talk to your teacher. Who is it?"

I couldn't help myself from giving a kind of snort. "Coach Hardin," I said,
as Coach Jack's hands started to massage my ass.

Coach Jack gave a quiet laugh.

"I know what you mean, kid," he said. "I've heard how he handled wrestling
with you guys. Not the most sensitive of men, huh?"

"It was a nightmare," I said, amazed at how much I was saying. "You see how
small I am. The other guys, they would pick me up and throw me down," I
said, bitterly.

"That fucking shit," Coach Jack said, as if to himself. I couldn't believe
my ears. Had he really said that? "I shouldn't have said that out loud, big
guy. But between us men, that's just fucked. No wonder they canceled
wrestling." He hesitated. "Sorry about my language."

"It's OK Coach Jack," I said, laughing a little. "I won't tell anyone."

He massaged me some more.

"You're..." I hesitated. "You're not like him at
all. You're... well... you're great.."

"You think so?" he asked seeming uncertain. "Teachers never reall know what
students are thinking."

"Coach," I said, "you're the best. You totally rock."

He chuckled. "Thanks for the boost of confidence son," he said as he
continued to massage my ass.

The pain had been in my lower back, not my ass but his hands... he hands
were settled only on my butt cheeks. He was handling them like... like...

He coughed, as if he were embarrassed at what he was about to say. "I can't
really do this properly with your shorts on. I'm just going to slip them
down, buddy boy. OK?"

Holy shit. Was he asking me to let him feel my boy butt naked? God would
that feel great! But... what if he saw my hardon? Fuck it, I thought, my
cock is in my jock strap; even if it's hard he won't see it. And damn would
it be hot to feel... My dick was talking to me now: "say yes, you fucker,
say yes say yes say yes."

"Yes," I said. "It's OK. Whatever you need to do Coach. Whatever you
need. I'd do anything for you."

Holy fuck. Had I said that?

He laughed.

"I'm glad you feel safe with me Guy. I'm glad." And with that he slipped my
shorts down my legs, exposing my bare ass encased in my jock strap. My
shorts were down around my ankles.

"Here let me help you," the coach said. He kneeled down to slip my shorts
over my sneakers, starting with my right leg.

Holy fuck, what was that? Something touched my ass, but his hands--, his
hands were down at my ankles slipping off my shorts. But something was on
my ass, it ... holy shit, it was the Coach, it was... Fuck me with a stick,
it was his lips. He was kissing my right ass cheek. He was fucking licking
it...

Holy mother of God.

"LIft your right leg just a little."

He licked my ass on the right cheek as he slipped the shorts over my
sneaker.

"Now the left."

I raised my left foot as he... fuck me... he was licking my left ass cheek.

He was massaging my thighs with his strong hands as he kissed and licked my
ass.

"How does that feel buddy?" he asked as he massaged my glutes and licked
closer to the cleft between my ass cheeks.

"Oh God oh God oh God oh God." I said.

"That good huh?" he chuckled. "You know, Guy, I can't stand the thought of
Coach Hardin letting you get hurt like that."

"You're the total opposite of Coach Hardin," I said, trying to stop my cock
from totally losing control. "Like totally. From the first day when you
separated us into two groups so we would be comfortable and learn more. No
one has ever done that. And you were so nice about it. You knew it would
work. And it really did. You're the best gym teacher I've ever had." My
cock was throbbing and I was humping my ass to masturbate my cock in my
jock strap. I was pushing my asshole closer to Coach Jack's tongue. I
didn't mean to. I couldn't help it. I fucking couldn't help it.

God almighty, his hand was on my crotch feeling my hard teenage cock
throbbing in my jock strap. Shit, he was squeezing it. And his
tongue.... Holy mother of God, his tongue was licking my asshole. I was
humping his hand and pressing my asshole against his tongue.

"Do you really mean that Guy?" he asked, before returning his tongue to my
asshole.

"Oh God, yes," I said. "You're... oh fuck..."

"I'm what?" he asked. And he pushed his tongue inside me. Holy mother of
God, he was fucking my asshole with his tongue. I was paralyzed with
lust. It was the best feeling I'd ever had.

And his hand kept stroking my cock encased in my jock strap. Fucking A,
this was heaven.

And all of a sudden his tongue was gone. I heard him standing up. He was
walking away but back in a second. He was pouring some oil on my ass. I
felt it dripping between my glutes down to my asshole.

Whoosh.

What was that sound?

Fuck me to hell and back. He had shoved down his pants and his jock strap
and he was pressing his hard coach cock between my ass cheeks. He was
rubbing it up and down between them while he massaged my lower back.

"I'm what?" he repeated as he thrust his cock up and down in my oily
crevice.

"You're my favorite..." He was pressing the tip of his cock against my
slippery oily asshole. "You're my... oh God in heaven..."

Fuck me, he was pressing this dick inside my asshole, trying to open me
up. He was probing... he was pushing... he was stretching me... he was...

"Your favorite what?" he asked as his cock pierced my hole.

"Oh God," I groaned as I felt his cock enter me. "My favorite teacher. My
favorite one of all time. You're the best one ever, the best... you're
the..."

He thrust his cock inside me. It was thick. The head was big.

I groaned. It hurt.

He waited with just the head inside me. He waited until I got used to it.

He felt me relax. He felt me open. He moved it in further. His cock was
inside me. Coach Jack's cock was inside me. He was pushing... He was...

"I'm glad," he said, as his cock slipped further inside, as I felt myself
yield, as I submitted, as he pushed further in, as his long coach cock
speared me and took me. It was going in farther and farther ... and oh God
almighty, he bent over till I could feel his pecs on my back, his mouth at
my ear.

His arms were gripping me in a hug. His hands were pressed on my muscular
pecs. His cock was going in and out, slowly at first and then faster.

"I'm glad," he repeated licking my ear, thrusting his tongue inside my ear
canal as he took my cherry ass. "I'm glad, I'm glad, I'm glad," he repeated
as he fucked me harder and harder and faster and faster.

His hand was on my face. I gasped and his thumb slipped into my mouth. I
sucked it like I was a starving beggar. I sucked his thumb. He thrust his
tongue in and out of my ear. He fucked my ass with his beautiful long
powerful coach cock.

He thrust with his cock. I sucked his thumb. He thrust. I sucked. He
thrust. I sucked. He thrust. I sucked.

He thrust.

I felt my cock and balls get hot and greedy. I felt the beginning of my
climax. I knew that I was going to shoot. I knew that nothing on earth or
heaven could stop it. I knew that the coach's cocking fucking my ass was
going to make me explode. I knew... I knew... I ...

I fucking shot the biggest and best load of my young life. I
shot. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again.

And each time I pushed back on the coach's cock. And each time he thrust
inside me. He fucked me as I shot. He fucked me and I demanded more. He
thrust forward and I thrust back. And each time my cock spewed a shot of
teenage cum into my already soaking wet jock strap. He thrust, I shot. He
thrust, I shot. He thurst, I shot and shot and shot and shot.

And then with a growl, his thrusts got wicked fast. And super hard. He was
slamming into me. He was fucking the daylight out of me. And he growled as
I felt his cum hit my bowels as it shot out of his dick. He shot again, my
mouth still sucking his thumb. He shot and shot and shot as he hugged my
pecs and pressed his pecs against my back. He filled me with his daddy
juice.

When he was spent, he kissed my cheek and licked it a little.

"Oh Guy," he said. "I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have done
that. But I couldn't... I couldn't help myself. I just couldn't...Your ass
is so beautiful and it was right there; it was right... I've been thinking
about this... about you... I ..."

Damn was he apologizing? This was the best thing that ever happened to me.

"Coach, coach, coach," I said to shut him up, loving the feeling of this
thick cock still embedded inside me. "Don't be sorry. Please don't be
sorry. That was the best thing that ever happened to me. Ever ever ever
ever."

Coach Jack sobbed. He fucking sobbed. He must have been worried about what
I was going to say. He must be relieved to hear me revel in being his
bottom.

I tried to reassured him one again.

"The best thing that ever happened to me," I repeated.

"Little guy," he said in my ear as his cock twitched one more time inside
my ass, " it was the best thing that ever happened to me too."


Looking up part 3

Coach Jack slowly removed his cock from my teenage ass. He was big and he
was thick and there was some relief when he withdrew but there was
something else too. I felt empty; I felt incomplete; I felt lonely. It was
as if Jack's cock belonged inside me, as if I belonged to him.

"Stay there," he said.

"No problem," I answered, basking in the feelings of my first fucking by
the hottest and nicest grownup I knew. Soon Jack was cleaning me off. He
slipped off my jockstrap filled with my cum and cleaned my cock and my ass
with wipes.

He took my gym clothes with the cum-soaked jockstrap and put them with his
own clothes.

"I'll just wash these together in the machine here and give you back your
stuff tomorrow," he said casually. Fuck it, that gave me another boner
thinking about my cum touching his own jock strap and sweats and my jock
strap getting washed along with the clothes that hugged his sweaty muscular
body.

"Shower," he said, throwing me a towel and helping me stand up.

I turned around. He was still naked. He was so fucking muscular. Not like a
body builder but like a swimmer/gymnast combination. That incredible
V-shape with his small waist and wide shoulders and his handsome face made
me tremble. I looked away.

"It's OK, buddy," he said. "You can look as much as you want. At least when
we're alone. Out there, well... best to not make it too evident that you
want to eat me alive."

I looked at him in awe.

"You're really attracted to me, aren't you buddy?" he asked.

"You have to ask?" I said. "You're ... you're..." I didn't know how to
finish.

"It's OK, little man," he chuckled. "You are too, whether you know it or
not."

"Come on," he said opening the door to his office to walk through the
locker room to the open shower.

I was stunned. He never showered with us guys. He always waited until
later.

I had no choice. I followed him out. Most of the guys had showered already
and gotten dressed and left for their next period. But a few guys were
still around. They had no class afterwards and were taking their time. A
couple were still in the shower, luxuriating in the hot water. Three more
were half dressed and chatting on the benches together.

Coach Jack put his hand around my back and under my armpit like I needed
help walking because of my back injury. Fuck me, his hand started to give
me another hardon. We were both holding our towels, not wearing them, and
out of the corner of my eye I could see he was half hard. Damn that started
to make me hard. His coach cock was sticking out in front and swinging from
side to side. Shit, does he want the guys to see us like this? What if they
think he and I...? What if they figure out I like guys? What if...

"How's the back feel, Guy?" the coach said, loud enough for the other guys
to hear.

"Sore but better than before," I answered. "Your deep massage made a big
difference."

The coach coughed or gasped or... I shuddered, realizing what I had said
and how it might be interpreted, especially with the coach's hand around me
like I was his boy.

Well, I am his boy aren't I?

I decided to stop worrying. Coach Jack was really popular and if I was
under his wing, maybe his coolness would wipe off on me.

We chose two faucets next to each other. The other two guys still in the
shower looked over at us. They stared. I guess I wasn't the only one to
want to see the coach's naked muscular ass and what he was packing in his
jock strap. I glanced at them. Shit! I was shocked to realize they were my
buddies Dan and Derrick. Dan was blond and had a swimmer's build. Derrick
was shorter than Dan and African-American with smooth incredible thick
gymnast muscles. They were both, in my mind, studly and goodlooking.

I shot a glance at the coach. His cock was long and sticking out and
clearly half hard. His eyes were closed as if he did not care if anyone saw
his long shlong. I stole a glance at the guys again. Their mouths were
open; they were staring at the coach's beautiful long hardening dick. Holy
shit. Maybe they were into guys too--or at least the coach. They both
started to get hard. Fuck me, I had jacked off thinking about them but here
I was getting to see them sprout boners with hot water pouring over their
slick muscular bodies.

The coach paid no attention to them. He soaped up his hard muscular body.

I turned away thinking I didn't want them to see me get hard. I began to
wash my face and shoulders and arms and chest. But when I tried to bend
over to wash my legs, I got a spasm.

"Ouch," I groaned.

Coach Jack immediately put one hand on my stomach and another on my back to
hold me up and help me get straight again.

"None of that," he said. "Remember what we talked about?"

What did we talk about? Oh, he was saying that for the benefit of the two
gawkers...

"Let me help," he said.

And right then he kneeled in front of me, soaped up his hands and started
to wash my thighs and calves. He started with the left leg and then did the
right.

But fuck me with a stick, the coach's strong slippery hands were moving up
and down on my fucking thighs. His handsome face was there below me. I saw
him look up at me and smile. I was 16 for God's sake. It was impossible --
and I mean impossible -- not to get another erection. My cock shot up like
a spring.

And fuck it, when I looked down, the coach's cock was now rock hard as well
and standing at attention. Could the guys see that? I looked over at
them. Holy fuck, they were openly staring at the coach's cock and his
strong hands as they washed (caressed, stroked, fondled) my muscular
gymnast thighs. And dammit if they were not rock hard as well.

Like in a dream I saw the coach look over at their cocks. He looked up at
their faces. He looked down at his own hard cock standing straight up in
the air. He looked at the guys again. He smiled.

That was all it took.

The guys moved toward us until all three of us were standing in front of
the Coach still kneeling in front of me and soaping up my thighs.

"You guys seemed worked up," Coach Jack said, looking at their twitching
rock hard teenage dicks.

"What you're doing coach," Derrick said, nodding as the Coach was washing
my thighs. "My back is sore too. Could you help me out? Just a little?"

And then without another word, Coach Jack rubbed the soap between his hands
and grasped Derrick's bulging thick gymnast thighs and began to stroke up
and down. Each time he went up his hand pushed against Derrick's
balls. Derrick's cock was now rigid like a flagpole. I saw teh coach
touching Derrick's balls each time he went up. I saw his washing Derrick
behind his balls between them and his asshole. I saw Derrick's cock twitch
and throbb. I heard Derrick moan.

"Me, me, me, too," said Dan, whimpering a little watching Jack caressing
Derrick's gymnast thighs and taint. So Coach Jack did Dan, with the same
result--a cock as hard as a baseball bat.

And then Jack slowly stood up. He was taller than all of us. He looked down
at us. And then very slowly he put his hands out. He put his left hand on
Derrick's right shoulder and his right hand on Dan's left shoulder. Gently
but firmly he pushed them down.

"Fair play, boys," he said. "Now do me."

Dan and Derrick were on their knees before the gym coach. I could hear them
breathing hard. Dan looked like he was shaking with excitement. Derrick
began to soap up coach's left thigh while Dan worked on coach's right
thigh. Coach Jack's hard cock was right in their fucking faces. He was so
close to them that it hit their faces as they worked on him. Derrick was
gaping at the coach's cock, his mouth wide open like he was astonished and
frozen in place.

I looked up and Coach Jack was looking at me. He had not asked me to kneel
because of my sore ass and back. But he was close to me now. So fucking
close. His hands had been squeezing the shoulders of Dan and Derrick as
they washed his thighs. When Derrick touched the coach's balls, Jack turned
to me, took his hand from Dan's shoulder, put it behind my neck and drew me
to him.

I was in a trance. I could not believe what was happening. Coach's Jack's
beautiful lips were an inch from my own.

"Derrick?" the coach said.

"Yes coach," whimpered Derrick, his voice thick with lust.

"You know what to do."

"I do?" Derrick asked.

"What you've wanted to do. What you've always wanted to do. What you were
born to do," the coach said.

"I... I... I... don't... I think..." Derrick looked at Dan, clearly worried
about what he would think.

"Derrick," Coach Jack said. "Dan is cool. He wants it too."

"He wants...?" Derrick sputtered.

And then Coach Jack kissed me, his tongue plunged into my mouth. He moved
it around. He moved it in and out.

"Oh my God," said Dan and Derrick together.

Jack took his tongue out of my mouth and looked down at them.

"Derrick, enough is enough. Now shut up and suck."

And with that, Coach Jack plunged his cock into Derrick's gaping mouth.

The next moment Jack's tongue was back in my mouth. My cock was
twitching. My hand was on Coach Jack's muscular ass. And then... oh fucking
A... I felt it. A wet warm something all around my cock. I broke away from
Jack and looked down. Holy shit. Dan was sucking my teenage dick while
Derrick continued to suck Coach Jack. And then I felt Jack's mouth on mine
again.

I don't know how long we did it. I had just cum earlier and I thought it
would take a while to shoot again. But I was a fucking horny 16 year old
and this was my first blow job. It didn't take long for me to explode in
Dan's mouth between his swimmer's cocksucking lips. Coach Jack took a
little longer to unload in my buddy Derrick's mouth. I was able to look
down and see Derrick's handsome black face and beautiful lips wrapped
around Jack's thick throbbing penis. I saw Derrick looking at me. I saw him
look up at Jack. I saw him look back at me as the coach groaned and shot
his load into Derrick's mouth. Derrick continued to look at me as he
swallowed Jack's load. His eyes never left me, his eyes did not blink. He
swallowed load after load after load, his strong tongue licking Jack's cock
underneath and squeezing the cum out of him.

"Ahhhhhhhhh," I heard someone behind me moan.

And that's when I remembered that there were three other guys in the locker
room. That big groan was the three of them cumming simultaneously as they
watched Derrick drink the coach's cum. They were standing naked and next to
each other just a couple of feet away from us and they had been stroking
their cocks as they watched the show we were providing. Their collective
cum shot onto the four of us. Some landed on Derrick's face. Some landed in
Dan's blond hair. Some hit the coach's rock hard abs, and some hit my
gymnast ass.

When it was over, everyone needed to clean up. Dan and Derrick washed each
other's backs and asses and cocks. They were gentle and tender with each
other. How had I never seen it before? I was so fucking attracted to them
individually that I had never noticed. It was obvious to me now. They were
a goddam couple. It was the hottest thing ever. And they were my buddies.

Coach Jack saw me looking at them and he turned me around to do the same
thing. His hands felt so good on my ass; his finger grazed the spot where
he had speared me only a little earlier on his table. When he was done I
turned around and saw him put his back to me and hand me the soap. Who was
I to say no? I washed Coach Jack's broad back muscles. I washed his
beautiful daddy ass, his glutes so hard and supple. I washed the crack
between his firm butt cheeks and I slipped my finger just inside his
slippery butthole.

As I was washing him, I heard Coach talking to the three observers. I
looked up at him and heard him say, "What happens in gym stays in gym,
right guys?"

They quickly say "yes of course Coach," and I found myself again on my
knees looking up at the Coach's muscular ass. I felt him turn around and
his cock touched my face. I looked up at him. He smiled down at me and
caressed my hair. Coach Jack was the best teacher I had ever had. He was
the kindest man in the whole school. I looked up to him. I admired him. I
opened my mouth to tell him so but no words came out. No words came because
I could not speak. I could not speak because the moment I opened my mouth,
the coach's long, still semihard penis fell right into my mouth. It was
Coach's Jack's cock. And it was on my tongue.

I had thought it was over. I had thought there would be no more.

But I was wrong.

Jack had one more load in him. Grownups don't usually rebound that
quickly. But, as Jack told me later, I turned him on more than any other
boy he'd ever known. And when he saw me on my knees, my handsome young face
looking up at him with a worshipful gaze, my soft pink lips open in awe,
there was nothing in the world that could have stopped his cock from
getting hard again and pushing forward to impale my face on his manhood. I
was his favorite jackoff fantasy. And my mouth was right there--it was
right fucking there. And his cock throbbed with need. So he shoved his
daddy dick into my boy mouth and I sucked it for dear life. I sucked and
sucked and sucked and sucked until he could not take it any more. He had
wanted this since he first met me. My mouth. His cock.

And it was too much. He fucked my face. He fucked my mouth. He held my head
tight against him, impaling me on his coach cock. Gagging or not, he was
going to unload in my mouth, the mouth he had wanted for so long. He had
cum twice already but seeing me on my knees, where he had longed for me to
be, revived him. He had one more load in him. And it was all mine.

I sucked his cock. I drank his cum.

I looked up at him as I sucked his dick. He was my coach. He was my Jack. I
looked up to him. I looked up to him as I swallowed and swallowed and
swallowed and swallowed.



Short Guy Stories

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/civil-service

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/driving-instructor

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/play-like-a-man

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/reparative-therapy

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/taking-my-fathers-place

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/beginnings/the-bottom-apartment

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/office-hours

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/town-gown-relations

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/will-you-be-my-buddy

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/encounters/daddy-issues

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/a-place-of-my-own

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/military/civil-service