Date: Wed, 4 Jun 2008 08:57:08 -0700 (PDT) From: Story Teller Subject: My Boy Cody (Chapter 4) For the record, this all came out of my head. If the exploration of budding sexuality is offensive to you please do not read on. Please do not use this work as an excuse for illegal activities. I hope that you enjoy it and will look forward to the development of the story and the introduction of new characters I have in mind. I welcome questions and comments and appreciate all those who have written. There are 2 questions that have come up many times in the "fan mail" that Cody has generated. 1: Am I a dad? No, I am not. I am, in fact, "gold star gay", I've never even been sort-of sexually attracted to a woman. 2: Are the characters based on real people? Yes and no. I've based all of the characters at least in part on people I know, sometimes compositing them, often just borrowing physical or personality characteristics that I think will fit my needs. The story is, as I said, all out of my head. Thanks again for reading. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Story.Teller99@yahoo.com My Boy Cody Chapter Four: Recruiting the Coach It was just before nine in the morning and I was sitting in my desk chair with my stereotypical gym-teacher-shorts and jock strap around my ankles and the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen slobbering all over my rock hard cock. Cody was working all eight and half inches of my meat like a champ, swallowing me to the balls and then swirling his tongue around the crown like his life depended on lapping up ever milliliter of pre-goo my nuts could churn out. He looked up at me, his shining eyes flashing in the florescent light and licked at my nut sack. I leaned back in the old-fashioned chair and groaned. Cody smiled up at me with an impish gleam in his eye. "You wanna fuck me, Coach Wiz?" he asked softly. What a stupid question! I was zooming so hard I couldn't verbalize an answer, I just nodded. Cody straddled my hips and lined the blunt helmet of my throbbing dick up with his hole. He was still wearing the bright red jock he put on for class but I could see his little boy-boner sticking up in it. Slowly this little sex god pressed my cock into his hole, the lips of his ass straining open to accommodate my fat dick. Slowly he opened up, lowering himself over the throbbing veins of my shaft until his ass-lips kissed my bloated balls. I leaned back in the chair, my head rolling against the headrest and loving every twitch of the stretched walls wrapped tight around my cock. Suddenly my head snapped up and I leaned forward on the chair, reaching round Cody's perfect little ass and feeling my balls where they were pressed against his hole. Sure enough, there was cum oozing out of him there. "How many loads you have in you already, Cody?" I asked breathlessly. "Only three," he replied, grinning mischievously at my obviously shocked expression. "My dad and Chet each took a turn before I left home this morning and I had English first period," he explained, rocking his hips a bit to stir the loads in his hole with my cock. I understood what he was telling me and it made me that much hotter to breed this sweet little slut. If you've never seen Cody you don't understand. He's seriously beautiful, not girly like you think of when you hear a guy called beautiful, but he's male perfection with smooth, creamy white skin no matter how much time he spends outside and black hair that flows to his shoulders and flops across his smooth forehead and thick arching black eyebrows (with a ring through the left one) above vivid violet eyes. The eyes are the most startling thing about him I think, straight-up Elizabeth Taylor violet eyes, open and honest and deep all at the same time, the kind of eyes you fall into rather than look into. His lips are voluptuous, full and curl into an easy smile, his nose is aquiline, slim and long, his jaw is perfectly proportioned and sleek. He stands about five feet nine inches tall, with long lithe legs that make him one of the best runners in the school, and 125 pounds of lean muscle stretched over that frame. Cody's ass is a perfectly symmetrical pair of sweet little bubbles accentuated sexily by his choice in jock straps. Most high school boys wear standard issue white straps, but not Cody. He has a variety of them, all in similar cuts but in different vivid primary colors as well as black and green. They frame and accentuate the gorgeous curves of his smooth cheeks perfectly, a fact I'm sure he knows. I was so glad his dad sought me out for this! **************************************************************************************** On Friday, three days ago now, I found the envelope laying on the desk in my office in the locker room. My name was hand-printed on the front of it in block letters with thick black ink strokes. It was sealed, which was unusual for school communications. I slit the envelope with my thumb and pulled out a single tri-fold of unlined paper. Centered on the page in the same block print was a single paragraph that stopped my heart, dried out my mouth and made my head spin. My knees unhinged and I flopped into my desk chair, my mind spinning a mile a minute. Who could have written this note? How could the author possibly know the things written here? My past was catching up with me and I could feel it clutching at the rapidly unraveling threads of my life. All the thinking I had done with my cock in the past was falling on my head. I knew I had to follow the instructions in the note, there was no choice in the matter for me. My mind kept slipping back to the note for the rest of the day, my stomach in knots as I contemplated the ramifications of my secret getting out. I'd be totally ruined and have to leave this place, and I knew better than to think it would be easy for me to relocate again. I spent the afternoon totally distracted and presided over a disastrous soccer practice after school: it was a waste of time. I wasn't even able to distract myself from my swirling thoughts to ogle the sweet young things as they ran. Even Cody, my favorite, couldn't pull me totally out of my funk. I sat zoned out in my office while the boys showered and left, horse-playing and cat-calling as they went. I pulled the note out again and looked at the words slashed onto the page. Not knowing what else to do I went into the showers to sluice off the cold sweat that had slicked my flesh all day. Looking at myself in the mirror I was honestly very happy with what I saw there. Even at 40 my body is still toned, my muscles defined from the regular hours of sport and working out I put in. The water beaded in my salt and pepper chest hairs before running down my stomach and, while not a 6-pak, my belly was still pretty flat. I looked carefully at my face, the light lines around my brown eyes, the salt and pepper mustache, my thick lips, the deep laugh lines. I've got a strong jaw line and a pleasing-enough face, at least that's what I've been told. I soaped up, lathering my swinging balls and getting an erection despite myself. That note had brought flooding back into my mind things I had taught myself to forget, urges that I thought I'd beaten. I was angry and ashamed - how could a few simple lines "I know about Pittsburg..." so totally break down the walls I'd built in my mind. I couldn't help but think back to the scene in Pittsburg, the look on the principal's face as she realized I was railing the star of my soccer team, the feel of his sweet creamy skin under my fingers as I slid-balls-deep all the way into him, in that last second before I couldn't stop myself, my load spilling eight inches deep in his silken chute despite my horror at being found out. If he hadn't been eighteen I would have been doomed. As it was, the principal cancelled my contract and "suggested" I get out of town. I know the boy had something to do with that, he was hung up on me big time, he begged me to let him come with me. I couldn't do that though, I couldn't bring him away from the scholarship I knew he had coming and the life he should be able to build after college. He cried and begged and sobbed, but I couldn't do it. I didn't even tell him where I was going. Now there I was standing in another high school gym shower with a hard-on, my secret past life known to at least one person. Would I ever learn? I rinsed myself and stepped out of the shower, dried and dressed in the clean jeans and polo shirt that I kept in my office all the time, just in case. I slid on sandals and combed my hair. I could hardly wait to get to the car, I needed a smoke bad. In my car I dragged out a Cuvee Blanc, snipped the tip and lit it, dragging hard. The sweet smoke filled my lungs and I held it for several seconds before starting the car. Forty-five minutes later I pulled into the parking lot at the restaurant mentioned in the note. It was kind of the middle of no where, a little Italian place I'd never heard about in the middle of a bullshit strip shopping center. All the adjacent businesses were closed, a few looked abandoned. I sat in the car and took a last drag on the stub of my cigar, dropping it on the pavement as I stepped out, grinding it into the parking lot. As I crossed the lot I passed someone familiar, a ball cap pulled low over his eyes. It was Mark Blakeworth, one of the English teachers at my school. He kept his eyes down, but I was sure he'd seen me. My mind was swirling a mile a minute. What the hell was Blakeworth doing here? Did he know why I was there? Did he know about the note? There was one other car in the lot aside from mine and the Carolla I recognized as Blakeworth`s now that I`d seen him. It was a red military-style jeep with the doors zipped off. Not what you'd expect the cops to have in place for a sting operation. My palms were slicked with sweat, I could feel the sick nervous trickle from my armpits as I went into the over-air conditioned dump. Sitting in the back corner, facing the door was man who stopped my heart: Anthony Martin, Cody's father. This man could break me in half if he wanted to, probably without thinking about it. A huge muscled slab of Marine, fiercely protective of his only son and widowed with nothing better to do than watch out for his boy. Did he suspect I had been messing with Cody? I wish, but I hadn't touched the boy! If anything I had been more distant than I wanted to be to protect us both. The kid was only fourteen, I'd looked up his file. I knew his birthday was coming soon, but still, far too great a risk for me to make a move on such a sweet young thing. I had thought it was strange when Cody came back to school after having left early one Friday with his dad sporting pierced nipples and a fresh tattoo, a snake I recognized coiled around his father's bulging, muscular right arm. "Sit down, Coach Wiznewski," the big man said, "We need to talk about my son." I thought I'd faint.. ****************************************************************************************** Needless to say that wasn't a bad conversation. My mind snapped back to the present as Cody started pumping himself up and down my turgid shaft. I slid my hands up his thighs, caressing the mark his dad had left on him and leaned forward a bit to flick his left tit with the tip of my tongue. He swiveled his hips in response and drove me deeper into his slimy guts, frothing up the loads deposited there by three other men this morning. I leaned forward on the chair and he easily wrapped his legs around me as I stood up, gently laying Cody across my desk. It was at just the perfect height to drill his sweet, open hole hard and deep. The noises his open and squelching hole made as I reamed him filled the little office as I pummeled hi prostate, that beautiful head snapping back and forth on his long, slender neck. I reached up with my right hand and caught Cody's jaw. I crushed my lips to his and drove my tongue as far into his sweet sucking mouth as I could get it, tasting the precum I had already deposited there on his tongue still. I ground my thick wiry pubes into his smooth white ass cheeks and reveled in the obscene sounds we made together. Cody was a wild animal under me, begging for my seed, pleading between kisses with harsh whispers for me to breed his perfect hole and breed it deep. With my chest pressed against him, his back flat on my desk, papers sliding off onto the floor, Cody's long legs wrapped around my waste acting as a pivot point for my deep-driving thrusts into his heavenly boy-hole I knew I would jizz soon. I hadn't had a fuck this amazing in years, and I was fucking the boy, soon to be dumping a huge load into him because his father practically begged me to: "He's a total cum-slut, Coach Wiznewski, he can't get enough jizz in his whore hole. I want to know who is breeding my boy. He wants you, Coach. I know you like boy hole. Please help my boy - breed him." I looked Cody in the eye, my balls tight against my shaft now and I licked his left eyebrow, feeling the ring there under my tongue. "Want it, boy?" I asked. "Please!" was his breathless answer. I clamped my teeth into Cody's right shoulder to keep from crying out loud as I fired my load deep into his clutching hole. He took a deep, sharp breath as I bit down but then just groaned as he felt the spams of my fat cock. He dug his blunt fingernails into my back and raked them from my ass to my shoulder blades as I held onto the edge of the desk, my orgasm almost painful in its intensity. My cock throbbed half a dozen times, spewing my potent seeds deep into the willing boy impaled on my desk and I collapsed on top of him. I flopped back into my chair, Cody's legs still spread, his hole gaping open and dripping the mingled jizz onto the floor. He grabbed the edge of the desk and did a crunch, pulling his face up where he could grin at me. "Thanks, Coach Wiz, I needed that," he said conversationally. I smiled back weakly. Cody pulled himself to his feet and steadied himself on the edge of the desk. I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes until I felt the sudden warmth of his sweet mouth cleaning the residue from my cock. His wet tongue stimulating the head again. He swallowed the whole thing again as it softened. "Ease up, boy, I gotta go piss too," I said. "Really?" he said, "Can I drink it Coach? Its supposed to be totally hot!" "What Cody wants, Cody gets," I replied, grinning back at him. He engulfed the head of my dick in his hot mouth and swirled his tongue around it as my stream began to glow. Cody gulped down my entire bladder-full of piss without missing a drop and nursed on the head a bit more when I was done.. "It was sweet," he said, grinning at me. "Thanks, Coach." Then Cody seemed to notice the puddle of cum on the floor between my desk chair and the knee hole. "I'll clean that up too," he said jovially and proceeded to start licking the cooling and congealed baby batter off the dirty floor. I was getting hard again, but the period was almost over and the other students and my assistant would be back in any time. "That's enough, you little pig!" I said laughing. "There will be plenty more later, I'm sure. Hit the shower before and get dressed before any of the others see that bruise I left on your shoulder." "You bet, Coach!" Cody said as he bounded from my office into the locker room proper.. That boy's birthday is going to be one hell of a party, I thought. Especially if his dad does what he says he will. And from what I've learned about Tony Martin, it will be all Cody could dream of and more.