Date: Thu, 12 Mar 2020 16:15:34 +0000 (UTC)
From: Danny Smith <danny26149@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Coach and the Kid Part Two

The Coach and the Kid (Part Two)
By Danny Smith


      From then on I was hooked. A confirmed cocksucker, and the Coach?s
toy. There was no subtlety about our relationship. Either he or I would
find some excuse for me to stay late, after the guys on the team had gone
home. Sometimes I would see him in his office, just off the gym floor. The
lights in the gym would be out and he would be standing in the doorway of
his office, backlit by the lights behind him. He would sometimes grab his
crotch to entice me ? sometimes he would stand there fully clothed but with
his dick hanging out obscenely.

      Other times he invited me over to his house to ?study.?  The second
he closed the front door, I would be down on my knees, clawing at his
pants, struggling to get the belt undone and the zipper down. I would push
his trousers down his hairy legs and start sucking his beautiful enormous
cock. I learned to take his thrusts deeper and harder as the weeks went on;
I was proud when he called me ?his little cocksucker,? or his ?slut boy.?

      After he satisfied himself by shooting his load down my throat we
would sit together on the couch, naked, feeling each other up. I would play
with his hairy chest, or touch his face, and he would tweak my tits, cup my
balls in his big callused hands, or sometimes feel my ass. Sometimes he
would jack me off, or watch while I whacked. Occasionally he would stick
one of his fingers up my ass, sometimes while I was masturbating. At first
that hurt a little but I knew he liked it so I tried to relax. I always had
trouble though.

      I knew what he wanted. Like I said, I was always a smart kid. Sucking
him off was great, but he wanted to fuck me . . . to use me like a pussy
boy. I was scared of his cock, and I told him so. He knew, too, that if he
went too fast and hurt me there could be questions. What if I went home
from Coach?s house with a sore ass and had trouble sitting down at the
dinner table?  What would my mom ask?  What would my dad think?

      But Coach was smart too. He knew that I liked looking at the other
guys in the locker room. After all, we?d talked about every one of them at
some time, analyzing their young bodies and wondering what it would be like
to have sex with them . . . picturing them fucking their girlfriends.

      The first time Coach brought it up, I was hesitant. But after I
thought about it a little while, it made sense. He would get one of the
guys on the team, some guy I admired but who wasn?t hung too big, to fuck
me. Coach would watch, which would be cool. And the stud who fucked me
would open up my hole enough, so that when coach took his turn it would
just ?slip right in.?  His words.

      Listening to Coach describe what it would be like was getting me hot
as hell, and I finally said yes. I was more than just willing ? I was as
eager to try this new form of fun as I was to get into Coach?s pants every
night. He said he had to get the right guy, and finally he had it. Jimmy
Guidry. I couldn?t believe my ears. Jimmy was a full-blooded Cajun,
masculine, cute, dark hair, light eyes and thick Cajun accent. He was a
loverboy all throughout high school, and had a string of girlfriends. His
current steady was the head cheerleader, and they were always all over each
other: in study hall, after school, in the lunch room, you name it. Jimmy
and Tammy were the hot couple.

      Somehow, Coach had talked Jimmy into fucking me?!  Fantastic!!  I?d
seen him naked in the locker room many times. He was tight and lean, with a
tall muscular frame just made for jump balls and rebounds. Best of all his
dick was respectably long, but not thick at all. At least not like Coach?s
(but then whose is?). It was actually on the thin side.

      ?Just right for fucking virgins,?  was the way Coach put it.

      And so that was the way it was going to be. On a Wednesday night
(couldn?t be a weekend, Jimmy had a date) I went over to Coach?s house like
usual. All the lights were off except a couple of very dim ones in the back
of the house. There were candles. There was music playing. Coach offered me
an Amaretto, then another. I liked them, and I liked the attention he was
paying to me. It made me feel so special.

      The doorbell rang. He told me to go into his bedroom and undress. I
did as he answered the door and greeted Jimmy. I could hear them talking,
but couldn?t hear what they were saying. I waited in the darkness of his
bedroom, smelling the good Coach-scent of his clothes and the sheets. I
noticed there was big bottle of lube on the nightstand. The door opened
slowly. Coach came in, then Jimmy.

      ?Get on the bed, Skip.?  I obeyed.

      ?I?ll get him ready while you strip,? Coach said to Jimmy.

      My eyes had adjusted and I could see Jimmy?s handsome, muscular
physique as he took off his clothes and laid them down neatly on the
floor. He started playing with his cock, stroking it, warming it
up. Getting it ready. For me.

      Coach rolled me over on my stomach and squirted lube onto his
fingers. He started massaging my asshole and methodically sticking first
one big finger in it, then another. I was tense and tightened up.

      ?Relax, kid. It?ll be fine,? he whispered. ?Relax. It?s going to
happen. Enjoy it.?

      I relaxed my sphincter and his finger slipped in easily. ?That?s it
son.?

      When he said that word ? ?son? ? something came over me. I opened up
even more. I did everything I could to relax and make my body his, to do
with whatever he wanted. Coach seemed to sense what was happening and
followed up his advantage:

      ?That?s my good boy. That?s it, Skipper. You?re a good boy. You?re
daddy?s good little boy.?

      To say I was horny is an understatement. No 14 year old ever wanted
to get fucked as bad as I did that night. I raised my ass up to accommodate
Coach and his lube. I could hear Jimmy getting ready in the corner.

      ?Gimme some of that lube, Coach.?

      The next minutes were spent in silence except for the sound of Jimmy
greasing up his dick, Coach greasing up my ass, and my high-pitched whines
and whimpers as I felt the waves of hot sensuous mansex wash over me.

      Finally it was time. Without a word Coach stepped aside and Jimmy
took his place. I felt the bed sag as he climbed on positioning himself
behind me. He wanted to enter me doggie style, maybe to fantasize that I
was really his girlfriend. I?ll never know. I didn?t care. I just wanted to
feel his cock inside me. Wanted my ass to feel like his girlfriend?s pussy.

      Jimmy put me up on all fours, positioned himself between my legs and
spread them wide apart to give his organ easy access to my waiting
rectum. Then he mounted me. I felt open and completely vulnerable. I
couldn?t have prevented this if I had wanted to ? and I didn?t want to.  I
could feel my asshole quiver as the tip of Jimmy?s cock touched the
opening.

      ?You want it??  he teased.

      ?Yes.?

      ?I said, you want it??

      ?Oh, yes.?

      ?Tell me you want it.?

      ?I want it Jimmy.?

      ?What do you want??

      ?I want you to fuck me.?

      ?You want me to fuck you??

      ?Yes, Jimmy, fuck me.?

      ?You sure??

      ?Yes, I?m sure!?

      ?If you?re really sure, say ?please?.?

      ?Please, Jimmy, please, please fuck me, please . . .?

      When I said the last ?please? he did it. Shoved it in, all the way
in, not just a little bit. And it hurt!  Damn it hurt, and I couldn?t help
it, I yelled. I think I yelled pretty loud.

      ?Easy there, son, easy.?  It was Coach, and his voice was what I
needed to hear. Jimmy didn?t back out, but the worst was over, and he held
me there with both arms tightly wrapped around my middle, letting me get
used to it.

      ?You ain?t a virgin now,? he said with an edge to his voice. ?Let?s
get this on.?

      And he started. Slowly he pulled his dick out a few inches, then
thrust back in to the hilt. A few inches out. Slammed back
in. Out. In. Gradually the pullouts were further, several inches, but the
thrusts back in were just as hard. Finally he was methodically withdrawing
and thrusting his long cock almost its full length. With every shove he
started to make little noises in his throat.

      I know now why they call it doggie style. He was like a cur in heat
and I was his bitch. He fucked me fast, slow, long, deep, short, every way
he wanted to. After a couple of minutes of being used this way his body
began to take on a rhythm; his hips began to piston in a shorter, faster,
grinding way. He was getting close.

      I had my head buried in the pillow, my hands gripping the headboard,
as this teen aged stud ripped my ass apart. It still hurt. Then I felt
something touch my hand. It was Coach. I looked up at him. He was smiling
at me. I felt warm and loved ? used in a wonderful way. This man was
breaking me in, getting my little asshole ready for the main event. For the
Coach, my true love, to fuck me like he wanted to. I smiled back.

      And it happened. I felt Jimmy?s cock begin twitching and
kicking. Pumping his seed into my bowels. Emptying his balls into my warm
ass. My rectum was receiving his seed. He was breeding me. I pictured the
warm sperm shooting into my guts and loved every second of it.

      And then it was over. Jimmy collapsed on me, spent. I felt the warm
sweaty weight of his muscular body pinning me on the bed. I felt like I had
truly been his bitch. And I envied his girlfriend. If he took her like he
took me, she was one lucky cheerleader.

      He pulled out, and without ceremony went in to the Coach?s bathroom
and began washing his cock off. When he came back out, he was grinning as
he redressed. He and Coach high-fived. Coach put his arm around Jimmy?s
shoulders and walked him to the door. What they said there, I don?t
know. Was money exchanged?  Grades?  A no-cut position on the team?  I
never asked.

      When the Coach came back into the room I hadn?t moved. He laid down
beside me and started rubbing my back softly. ?Well??  was all he said.

      ?I loved it,?  was my reply.

      To be continued . . .