Date: Tue, 5 Sep 2017 14:31:06 +0000 (UTC)
From: Hairy Jacques <hairy.jacques@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Naval Academy Wrestler, part 6"

This story, modified to protect the anonymity of those involved, blends
fact and fantasy.

Reader feedback is welcomed, and the author will do his best to answer
questions and respond to comments. Contact him at hairy.jacques@yahoo.com.

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---------------

I felt myself crest the wave. My whole body stiffened. I exhaled sharply
and shot one, then two, then three, then four thick volleys of cum into
Greg's mouth. I started to shudder. The sensations were just too much. I
bent forward at the waist as Greg continued to suck me. I could hear him
gulp and feel him swallow. Finally, right before the moment when I couldn't
take it anymore, I pulled away, pushing him back against the bed before
buckling over on top of him. Our lips pressed together as his muscular arms
embraced me. We panted as we exchanged wet, sloppy kisses and my hips
bucked forward =into the heat and hardness of his cock.

I could barely see straight. I don't think I'd ever felt an orgasm so
intense. Greg pressed his tongue into my mouth, sharing the remnants of my
cum. I nuzzled his neck. I felt his fingertips lightly stroke the naked
skin of my back. It was a tender moment. I'm not sure how much time passed:
maybe several minutes, maybe not. When I finally pecked him on the lips he
smiled at me.

"That was amazing," I whispered.

"You're an amazing teacher," he replied.

"Last night or just now?" I asked. I wasn't sure if he had learned from my
example or my instruction.

"Both," he said, nibbling the edge of my ear. "And there's a lot more I
want to learn."

Even though I had just cum, I could feel my erection begin to stir. I
pressed forward into his groin. The cotton of his underwear provided just
the right amount of friction on the underside of my dick. I could feel
alongside it the heat of his own throbbing cock, still sticking out of his
fly.

Regaining a bit of my strength, I propped myself up on my elbows. This
allowed him to shift a bit. His palms slid down from my back and traced up
my sides to caress my pecs. His fingers gently pinched and pulled down on
my nipples. Releasing them, he raised his arms and clasped his hands behind
his head.

"You like my armpits?" The tone of his voice made it a question, but it
could have worked as a statement.

I love armpits, and I especially loved Greg's. Pit hair had turned me on
since junior high school, when it became for me a visible sign of
masculinity and sexual maturity. It helped signify the difference between
boy and man. Real men had hair under their arms. To me, pit hair on a guy
is like blooms on a rose. I pressed my nose into the damp hair of Greg's
left pit. The smell of him brought about an almost involuntary reaction: I
thrust my stiffening cock into his cloth-covered crotch.

"Easy tiger," he said, quoting my words back at me. "Let's slow things down
for a couple of minutes. We can catch our breath."

I have to admit feeling kind of disappointed. I didn't want to take a break
from what at that point was the hottest hookup of my life. But of course
there's give and take in every relationship. "You want to take a shower?" I
offered.

Greg raised an eyebrow. "Do I need one?"

"Hell no," I whispered. "I love the way you smell."

This caused him to smile. "What I had in mind for slowing things down," he
said, "was something both of us might like. Any interest in giving me a
tongue bath?"

I didn't need to be asked twice. I pressed my face back into his pit,
inhaled deeply, and extended my tongue. Soon I was in danger of suffering
from sensory overload. There was the visual, of course. All the muscles of
Greg's chest and arm seemed to point toward the manly canal between
them. And then there was the fact that Greg's pit hair was smooth and silky
but acquired an almost coarse texture when matted down with my saliva. He
tasted salty and his manly aroma verged on the animalistic. It wasn't the
freshest sweat, after all. He'd started perspiring hours earlier at
wrestling practice, and then again he soaked the fabric of his PT shirt
running to my place. But all this sweat, all this musk, had been refreshed
and recharged during the erotic heat of his submission to my cock. So he
was moist, and not only with my saliva. There was nothing rank about his
pits, at least not to me. His scent was strong but also, if not exactly
fresh, somehow young. In other words, his odor was less like the smell of
an older dude at the end of his factory shift and more like a college jock
exiting a gym. And that was Greg: a college jock. The only thing
regrettable about licking and sucking his armpit was that it caused the
taste and smell to dissipate. But if Greg's sweat was disappearing as I
exchanged it with my spit, his gentle sighs and the caress of his strong
fingers in my hair signaled that he remained very much in the moment. So
did his cock, which throbbed and leaked alongside my own.

I fought the urge to keep thrusting, in part because I'd been admonished to
slow things down and in part because I knew that, if I sped things up, I'd
end up cumming onto the fabric of his tighty whities. I had better plans.

For the moment, however, I contented myself with his other pit. "Contented"
is too weak a word, of course. I could hardly believe I was lucky enough to
get so up close and personal with Greg. He was a physical specimen, a total
stud, a premier Naval Academy athlete, and no doubt the object of the
fantasies of many young women and more than a few young men.

Certainly he was a dream to me, and yet all of this was real. It was even
real that Greg, a college wrestler and future naval officer a decade
younger than me, seemed almost as turned on by me as I knew I was by him.

That's when he flipped over on top of me. It was as if he had read my mind
and wanted to validate my thought. He wanted my body. He pinned my arms
over my head and returned the favor, suddenly feverish in his need as he
swabbed my pits with his tongue. He quickly turned his attention to my
nipples, sucking with his mouth, nipping with his teeth, and swirling with
his tongue, which he then flattened and extended in order to drag it across
the hair on my chest.

As his head rose up from my collarbone he established eye contact. I held
it. I wanted to say something but resolved to remain silent for a
moment. After all, it was his thoughts I wanted to hear.

His eyes sort of sparkled as he said it: "I've wanted this for so long. Not
just with any dude, but with someone like you, who would be my coach."

At that moment my hunch was that he wasn't asking for role play. He was
asking for mentorship. In hindsight, I'm fairly certain I was right. He
didn't want to be bossed around or barked at. He wanted to be guided by a
guy who knew more than he did and who could help him reach his potential. I
was flattered he'd see me this way. More to the point, I resolved to be up
to the task.

I rolled him over onto his side, running my hand along the length of his
torso, his briefs, and then his naked thigh. I grabbed his cock, still hard
and leaking as it projected from the fly of his BVDs. Releasing it, I let
my fingers trace a path north from the waistband of his underwear. I
followed the short little hairs of his treasure trail up to his sternum and
reached left and right to caress his muscular pecs.

Then I nudged him backward against the mattress. I couldn't resist any
longer. I had to taste his cock again. I started by kissing him on the lips
but quickly worked by way down, tracing my tongue over the patch of hair at
the center of his chest and then following the path of his treasure
trail. By the time I reached his navel I was fondling my cock, just to make
sure I was hard and ready to go. I was. As my eyes soon confirmed, so was
Greg. His dick was protruding obscenely from his briefs.

I had denied myself long enough. I licked my lips, took in the sight of his
throbbing cock, and lowered my face. Starting at the base, immediately
above his cloth-covered balls, the tip of my tongue traced a feather-light
path along the underside of his shaft. As I reached his prepuce, that
extra-sensitive spot where his shaft met his helmet, I started to gently
flick my tongue. This brought forth a gasp from Greg and a tiny dollop of
pre-cum from the tip of his cock. I dipped my tongue in it and then pulled
back. His sticky juice, thin as a spider web glistening in the light, for a
long second refused to let go. I then got down to business. As my lips
surrounded him, my nose went to work, inhaling deeply. His musk was
strong. He had been sweating all afternoon -- first at wrestling practice,
then on his run, and then during the course of our hot hookup session. It
was such a goddamn turn-on to smell him. So much so that I relinquished his
dick and pressed my nose into the damp fabric of his briefs. I inhaled and
felt my own cock stiffen. My lips latched on to his underwear and started
to suck on the cloth, drawing out the salt of his sweat. I tongued his
balls through the fabric, pulling first at the left one and then the
right. The taste and the aroma, manly and strong, called to mind my own
college memories of locker rooms full of hot young men, their pumped-up
muscles glistening with sweat and confidence.

For the past 45 minutes, the sight of Greg's cock, protruding through his
fly, had tantalized and tempted. It was like I was a kid again, and my most
hoped-for Christmas toy had been left partially unwrapped under the
tree. Of course I wanted to rip off the last of the wrapping paper. But I
also wanted to prolong the anticipation and expectation. I wanted to have
my cake and eat it too. Now, I decided, was the time to eat the cake. It
was time to finish the unwrapping of Greg's gift to me.

I hooked my fingers under the waistband of his BVDs and slowly pulled it
down. The first inch merely uncovered more of his treasure trail, but the
second inch exposed the top of his pubes. I kissed, smelled, and tasted his
silky hair before pulling down another inch or so. This exposed most of
Greg's bush and the very base of his turgid cock. As my nostrils made
contact with his nest of hair I breathed in the fullness and intensity of
his musk. My cock twitched; it was so hard it almost hurt. Finally I pulled
Greg's shorts down far enough that his shaft slipped through his fly and
smacked back against his lower abs. I paused for a long second to take in
the sight of him. Then I swallowed hard and did my best to cover my teeth
with my lips.

As he filled my throat, I could taste not only his salty flesh but also the
sweetness of his pre-cum. Soon I was bobbing up and down. I felt my eyes
water as the width of his cock stretched my throat. But this only spurred
me on. It was as if I couldn't get enough of him. And of course, I
couldn't. I couldn't possibly get enough of Greg. I wanted all of him.

As his pubic hair tickled the insides of my nostrils I backed away. I
hooked my hands under his knees and lifted his legs. This exposed his balls
and hairy ass crack but his BVDs, still mid-thigh, constrained his range of
movement. I wanted full access, so I pushed his underwear down his muscular
thighs until he was free of all constraints. As Greg grabbed his ankles, I
saw his ass spread before me in all its glory.

For a guy with only a moderate amount of hair above the waist, Greg had
quite a furry ass. Dark brown hair fanned outward from the center of his
crack to dust his firm, full asscheeks. His heavy balls were adorned with
fine, longish strands. And then, encircling his asslips, there was a dark,
dense moss that outlined my target.

For a brief moment I had second thoughts. Keep in mind, at that point I
considered myself basically straight. I'd had fun times with other guys,
but the main focus of my sexual energy was my wife. And now I was staring
longingly into another guy's hairy, sweaty, and no doubt not 100% clean
ass. On one level it was gross. But on another it was hot. Very hot. Even
more than his cock, which his teammates and roommates probably glimpsed on
a regular basis, his asshole was a private part, taboo and unseen by the
world. But now Greg, his knees pulled up to his chest, was inviting me to
have my way with it. To share, in the fullest sense of the word, intimacy
with him. I felt my dick throb. I could feel my mouth water. I decided to
go for broke.

Palming his asscheeks and pulling them outward, I dove face first into his
ass. My tongue hung broad and flat as I licked and sucked his hole,
drowning it with my saliva, smelling and tasting his body's deepest,
darkest secrets. None were too shameful. Greg tasted amazing. Meanwhile he
was gasping and moaning almost incoherently: "wow, wow, wow-wow-wow,"
"more, more," "sir, thank you," "yes, yes," "fuck yes," and "oh, fuuuuck!"

That he was loving this so much made me love it even more. Mostly, it
removed from my conscience that twinge of hesitation and, even, shame. If
he loved it and I loved it, what could be wrong with it?

I licked my middle finger and pressed into the entrance of Greg's ass. He
was tight, of course. "Push out," I whispered, "as if you're taking a
dump." Suddenly I felt him open up to me. There was still a bit of
resistance but mostly just accommodation. My finger sank in to the second
knuckle. I circled around inside of him with my fingertip while using my
tongue to trace the length of the underside of his cock. I took him back
into my mouth while pressing forward with my finger. My digit sank in all
the way while he groaned and rewarded my tastebuds with another little
dollop of his nectar. I then started to stir around inside him, working my
finger in circles and then in and out. He shuddered as I grazed his
prostate, so I focused my attention on this swollen little nub. He
gasped. He started panting. My mouth released his dick. "Are you okay?" I
asked. He answered in a raspy voice: "Yes. Fuck yes."

I took his words as permission to up the ante. I withdrew my middle finger
from his ass and plunged it in my mouth. I know it might sound kind of
disgusting, but damn if it didn't taste good. Tangy, and definitely more
savory than sweet -- but good all the same. I added my ring finger to my
mouth, getting it wet as well. Then I took these two fingers, slicked up
with saliva, and worked them back into Greg's hole.

I watched his eyes roll back as my knuckles cleared the clench of his
hair-fringed sphincter. I heard him whimper. Then I heard him whisper: "so
fucking good." I loved that he was comfortable enough to verbalize his
feelings. "Fucking great," I enthused in a hushed tone. For some reason I
was whispering too. As I gazed upon his ass I noticed on one of my fingers
a blaze of gold. My eyes focused. It was my wedding ring. For a second I
felt a pang of guilt. A second after that, all I could feel was the throb
of my cock and the silky clench of Greg's ass.

I scooted up to kiss him on the lips. He kissed me back. As a matter of
fact, he basically gobbled my lips. I reached down to jack my cock with my
free hand. Then I reached into the drawer of the end table. This was the
"guest room," but for my wife and me it was also a getaway. We sometimes
slept here on long weekends and at other times when we wanted an easy
change of scenery. She and I had great sex here. But when I reached into
the drawer with my wife in the bed, it was because she was sometimes dry
where most women are moist.

I pulled out a bottle of lubricant and applied some to the fingers that
were causing Greg to moan and pant. He was taking nicely to the
penetration, but I knew that my dick would stretch him past the point of
comfort. I wanted his first time to be memorable for the pleasure rather
than the pain. I wanted him ready.

I also wanted to savor the experience for myself. It's not every day that
you get to pop the cherry of a Naval Academy midshipman who just so happens
to also be a college wrestler who just so happens to be one of the hottest
guys you've ever laid eyes on. I was definitely lost in the moment, but in
the back of my mind I also knew that this was going to be one of the most
memorable sexual experiences of my life.

I remembered my own advice: make the most of your senses. I took a moment
to really feel the interior of Greg's ass. It was slick, but not entirely
smooth. There were little ridges of muscle and the subtle bumps caused by
blood vessels beneath his skin. And then, as I spread and rotated my
fingers, I could feel the firm little scallop that was his prostate
gland. I applied pressure and listened for a reaction, but Greg's grunting
and groaning actually stopped. Instead I heard a sharp intake of breath. As
I saw his head tilt back, his jaw dropped. His eyes darted upwards and I
actually noticed his pupils contract. My fingers still spread, I slowly
withdrew, dragging against the walls of his rectum. I noticed the hairs
encircling his ass lips, slicked up with lube, clinging to my fingers as
they pulled away from the heat of his hole. I lowered my head and extended
my tongue, tasting the tangy juices on my fingers. I inhaled his musk. Up
close I surveyed the crinkly skin encasing his balls and then let my eyes
wander up his stiff shaft, bulging with veins just below the surface of his
skin, all the way up to his cockhead's tip, which was glistening with even
more pre-cum. My tongue followed my eyes and I tasted his salty
sweetness.Once more I went down on him, pressing my nose into his crotch
while I scooted my body forward. Applying full suction, I slowly
withdrew. I half laughed at the slurping sound as he slipped from my
lips. Both of us smiled as I hooked my hands under his knees. I lined my
lubed cock up with his asshole and angled forward, pressing the head of my
dick against the entrance to his ass.

"You ready?" I asked.

"Hell yes," Greg whispered.

I went into coach mode. "What are you going to do to take my dick more
easily?"

"Push out," he said, "like I'm taking a dump."

I locked eyes with him. I nodded. "You can also do the opposite," I
said. Greg seemed confused.

"Who controls your ass muscles?" I asked.

He nodded as he processed my question. "I do," he said.

"Can you clench them?" I asked.

He nodded again.

"Just keep that in mind, okay? When you want to loosen up to reduce
pressure, push out. When you want to tighten up, clench down on me. It's
probably going to hurt at first, but after a while the pain turns into
pleasure. You sure you're ready?"

Greg reached up to grab the back of my head, pulling me in for a kiss. I
guess that meant "yes." I know it meant that my cock moved forward against
his ass. I could feel my head press into his pucker, pushing but not
penetrating. I debated whether I wanted to be French kissing him while I
breached his entrance or whether it would be better to be more upright,
increasing my leverage and allowing me to witness the loss of his
virginity. After our tongues danced in his mouth, I pulled away from his
lips, rose upward, and planted my palms on the undersides of his
knees. This freed up Greg's hands,which fell to his sides and instinctively
gripped the bedsheets.

I looked down to see the head of my cock nudging Greg's ass lips, both of
us glistening with lube. I pressed forward a bit. He was still closed
tight. I pressed forward more. Still, no progress. I made eye contact with
Greg. "I'm going to count to three. On three, I want you to push out like
we practiced. Okay?" He nodded. I could see the nervousness in his
eyes. Then I directed my gaze back toward his ass. It really was
magnificent: hairy and muscular, it occupied the south side of my favorite
neighborhood, just below his balls and an erection pointing true north.

"One," I said, pressing forward a bit more. "Two," I said, pushing
harder. I waited a moment. I wanted both of us to remember this. Then:
"Three!" Greg's abs contracted and his sphincter bloomed open just enough
for me to enjoy the sight and the sensation of my cock breaching the
entrance to his ass. As I registered the tightness and heat I looked up
toward Greg's face, just in time to see his eyes roll back. His jaw dropped
open as his head fell backwards onto the mattress, causing his adams' apple
to to bulge out alongside the chords of muscle on his neck.

I held still for a moment. "You did it, buddy. You okay?"

Greg, who had been holding his breath, exhaled. "It feels intense," he
rasped, "but I can take it."

"I know you can," I smiled. "You already are."

I pushed forward another inch, leaning in to kiss him. As my tongue swirled
inside his mouth I circled my hips to swirl the first two inches of my dick
inside his ass. I could feel him begin to loosen up. I pressed forward some
more. Greg moaned into my mouth. But still he was kissing me. I began to
saw in and out of him. He was still tight, but loosening, and very hot and
very wet. A minute later, after a slow but steady descent down his chute, I
felt myself bottom out.

At first I held still, allowing him to get used to the feeling of having
all of me inside of him. At this point our lips were gently touching but we
weren't really kissing. Instead, we were staring intensely into each
other's eyes. As Greg's ass relaxed just a bit, I watched his pupils
dilate. I took this as a sign that he was ready for more. I slowly withdrew
until I could feel the helmet of my cock pull back against his sphincter
muscle. Then I slowly pressed back into him, bottoming out. As I repeated
this process, I gradually picked up steam. As I fucked him his hands
unclenched the bedsheets and made their way to my back. I felt his palms
raking up and down my spine. His fingers dug into my shoulder blades as his
ass started to buck against me, meeting my thrusts to intensify the
sensations. I winced as his fingernails dug into my back.

My tongue extended to scrape against the stubble at the base of his
chin. "Fuuuuck!" he sighed, grinding his ass onto my cock. I could feel his
dick grazing against my abs, twitching in its desperation for sustained
contact.

My plan all along was to fuck the cum out of Greg. I wanted him to
experience his first anal orgasm. And now, as I thrust in and out, sweating
and panting onto him, I grazed the head of my cock against the nub of his
prostate. But as I continued my communion with his insides, as I repeated
the teasing of his chute, as I felt myself getting closer and closer to the
point of no return, I pulled out just far enough so that the heat and
wetness of his ass continued to embrace the head of my cock.

This exposed my own asshole. I reached for the lube and coated my finger,
which I quickly shoved into my sheath. As I fingered myself the suspicion
that a good fucking could make me cum quickly turned into a certainty.

I pressed my mouth to Greg's and this time allowed his tongue to work its
way between his own lips. I climbed over his thighs, grabbed his cock, and
angled it to press against my hole. I sat down -- immediately feeling pain
as my clench rebuffed his attempt to penetrate.

That's when Greg read my mind. "Push out," he said. The student was now the
coach. I did as he instructed. A split second later, he pressed in. This
time my own jaw dropped. Holy shit! Greg, to me, was many great things. At
this point, however, the only thing that mattered was his hard, thick
cock. I forced myself down on him. I couldn't get enough. And even if I had
wanted to slow things down, Greg, who was bucking into me, was in no mood
to hold back. I'd been fucked before, but never like this.

The consummate wrestler, of course Greg didn't hesitate to maneuver into a
more advantageous position. He flipped me onto my back. He leaned down to
kiss me and then to suck and bite my neck. There was little thought
involved. He was rutting up against me. Our sex had turned primal,
wanton. I felt him lower himself onto me as the force of his thrusts
increased. My hands embraced the slickness of his sweaty back. His treasure
trailed danced against the underside of my erection. I did my best to press
up into him. I felt the heat and moisture of his body, the musculature of
his hairy ass, the scrape of his teeth against the sensitive skin of my
ear. I inhaled the moist heat of his body. I tasted the salt of his sweat.

That's when I crested the wave. I convulsed and unleashed. I spewed and I
clenched. As my cock started to shoot my ass muscles tightened around
Greg's shaft. That's when I heard him breathe in sharply. I could feel him
shoot. There was the first, long ejaculation. He clutched my body and sort
of whimpered. He thrust into me a split second later, grunting again. And
then again. And again. I was surprised to be able to feel the volume of his
cum. Never before had I been with a guy and felt his load leaking from
around his dick to trickle over the tight ring of my ass.

Greg collapsed on top of me. "Stay in me," I panted. "Don't pull out." I
didn't want to break the connection. Neither, it seemed, did he.

When eventually his cock softened and gently slipped from my ass, he rolled
to his side. He looked amazing. His muscles were pumped and his skin was
flush. He was glistening with sweat and -- on his abs and around his pubes
-- cum.

Greg and I showered together and then dried each other off. We went out
onto the deck naked to grill our dinner. By this point it was totally dark
-- and certainly fairly private. After dinner we fucked again. This time he
took the lead. But this time I finished by breeding him.

The sex continued for the remainder of the academic year. Even after Greg
graduated, we remained close. He visited once when my wife was away. When
he came home on R and R from one of his deployments, I flew out to see
him. We shared a room -- and some hot times -- during my cousin's bachelor
party weekend. My wife was present for the wedding, but that didn't stop us
from finding time to be alone. and wedding weekends. Even now, more than a
decade afterwards, we remain in touch.

I still live in Annapolis. Greg has risen through the ranks and is now a
commander in the U.S. Navy. He's been deployed just about everywhere but
will soon return to USNA to help take charge of the wrestling program.

When he phoned a couple of weeks ago, I asked the obvious question. "Can I
still be your coach?"

_________________________

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