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A COACH FOR CHRISTMAS Chapter 3: A Christmas Surprise
There were many reasons that Jake hadn't been home to visit his parents in Castorville in nearly a decade. The most obvious of those reasons--to him, at least--was the fact that he was about as deep in the closet as a man could be as he rapidly approached the age of thirty, and for someone like him to spend any more time than was absolutely necessary in a town like Castorville was simply begging for trouble.
But, given that he was the only one who knew that secretÑ-well, in addition to Zach and now Coach RobertsÑ-the more obvious reason that Jake and his sister Lucy stayed away from their home was their parents. While Jack and Cindy Huebner were perfectly respectable and well-liked citizens of Castorville, each having done their part to coach the odd little league team or run the PTA's annual bake sale while their kids were still young, behind closed doors, they weren't exactly what one would call the perfect couple.
For nearly thirty years, since just before Jake was born, Jack Huebner had worked at the oil processing plant on the edge of town. He worked nights at the factory, pressing castor cakes on the screw mills and then spent his days sleeping and running the house. Cindy, on the other hand, worked up at the high school as an administrative assistant. They had met at that very school thirty-five years ago and, while they still loved each other to some degree, the spark wasn't quite there the way it was when they were younger.
Nowadays, most of the time they were together was spent bickering about stupid things of little importance, neither ever conceding nor admitting in the slightest that there may be some truth to what the other was saying. It drove Jake and Lucy wild and, instead of putting up with listening to what their parents' marriage had devolved into, they stayed away.
Of course, Jake also appreciated not having his mom regularly lecture him about his need to marry and have kids before it was too late. As much as he wanted to tell her it likely wasn't in the cards, he never quite had the heart to do so.
For all of the years of avoiding his return and the anxiety he had about doing so, Jake found his arrival to be much ado about nothing. His parents had welcomed him joyously the night before, and they had had a low-key evening of chatting at the kitchen table, making up for time lost without any bickeringÑ-at least nothing too badÑ-and no hard-hitting questions he didn't have answers for.
He awoke Christmas morning to the unmistakable smell of cinnamon rolls baking in the oven. The scent wafted from the kitchen, through the living room, and up the hallway to his room at the end. As if his nose was caught on a line, he was lured out of bed and into the main part of the house. The Christmas Tree glowed in the corner, presents piled high beneath it. His father was on the floor, leaned up against the couch, his eyes fixated on the television. The unmistakable voice of Jimmy Stewart was talking about lassoing the moon. He could see his mom in the kitchen, standing by the stove; her back was to him but, given the smell, he knew she had to be spreading icing on the cinnamon rolls. Outside, through the frosted windows, he could see the neighbor kids having a gay old time throwing snowballs and sledding down the hill.
A smile crossed his face and, for once, he felt glad to be home.
Jack took notice of his son's presence and his face lit up. "Morning Jake. Merry Christmas!"
Jake continued into the room. "Merry Christmas to you, too, Dad."
He turned his head toward the television and saw the muted paint-like colors of It's a Wonderful Life. A young Jimmy Stewart stood there, beaming down at the youthful Donna Reed, as the nosy neighbor yelled at him to kiss her already.
"You're watching the color version?" Jake asked as if it were blasphemous. "I thought you hated this version."
His father shrugged, peering at the screen over his square glasses. "I do, but your mother got in the mood to clean and conveniently misplaced my copy, so I'm forced to watch whatever is on television. I guess a little color is better than skipping the thing entirely. You can't have Christmas without it, you know?"
"I do," Jake replied. "You never let me forget it." Every Christmas, when he was on the phone with his parents, his dad asked him if he'd watched it. Jake always made an effort to have it playing in the background just to appease the old man.
"Sit," Jack said, patting the spot next to him and inviting his son to join.
Jake did as he was told.
"To be honest, I think your mother lost my copy just so she wouldn't have to sit through it again," Jack admitted through a handful of M&M's from the bowl on his lap. "You probably won't believe it, but we had a fight about it last Christmas."
He did believe it. In fact, it wasn't that hard to believe at all when considering how they fought about everything and that they'd each seen the movie a hundred times over the years.
"It's nice to have someone to watch it with again," Jack added, smiling at Jake.
Jake hadn't planned on spending the entire morning watching It's a Wonderful Life, but he could tell his presence meant a lot to his old man.
A quarter hour passed before his mom walked into the room, already jazzed up and wearing the red dress that constituted her Christmas outfit. She handed them each a plate with two cinnamon rolls. "Who wants cinnamon rolls?" she asked. Then, after they each took their share, she sat down in the chair and joined them.
Jake looked at his dad, who simply shrugged back.
They sat together that way until the screen went dark and the commercials started, enjoying the movie as a family. There was no fighting, there was no complaining, there was nothing but good cheer.
It was bizarre.
"Jake, honey," Cindy said over a commercial for ringing in the new year with a new car.
Jake turned his head toward her in acknowledgment.
"We are out of milk, and I need some for the sweet potatoes. Any chance you could pop over to McAllister's and pick some up?"
"It's Christmas. Are they even open?"
She shook her head. "McAllister's is always open . . . even on Christmas."
This surprised Jake, but it was no big deal. "Can I get cleaned up first?"
"What's wrong with going as you are?"
Running his hand through his shaggy brown hair, Jake drew attention to his bedhead.
"It looks fine," his mom said. "Just put a hat on."
"I don't wear hats," Jake replied. "I'll just be a minute."
He pulled himself up off the floor and retreated back down the hallway toward his room. There were still piles of his old clothes tucked haphazardly in the dresser drawers, but he doubted any of those fit him anymore. He pulled a clean shirt and a pair of briefs out of his suitcase and, just before he dropped the cover, he noticed Coach Roberts' jockstrap. He had tucked it in the suitcase for safekeeping. Without thinking, he extended his arm and grabbed the now crusty cotton garment. He lifted it up to his nose and breathed in the sweet smell of Coach Roberts' musky load. It was intoxicating. His thoughts returned to their night together and how he had caused that load, how he had planted himself deep within his former coach's ass and made the old man cum hands free.
The thoughts stayed with him as he showered, slowly tugging at his soap-covered cock as he remembered Coach's tongue sliding in and out of his asshole. The memory was so vivid, he could still feel the sensation. Reaching around, he grabbed his butt with his right hand, splitting the cheeks and beginning to gently rub his hole with his middle finger. The pressure stiffened his already hard cock, and as he continued to wank, his tongue slid between his lips and he prepared to shoot. Just as he was reaching his climax, a knock came on the door.
"Jake?" his dad asked. "Are you ready?"
The load retreated back into the cannon and all chances of his getting off faded at the sound of his dad's voice.
"Just a minute," Jake said back.
The moment ruined, Jake did a quick spin to rinse the soap from his body and stepped out of the shower.
"You're going too?" he asked his dad as he entered the kitchen.
Jack was standing there with his winter coat and boots on.
"Yeah, I figured it couldn't hurt to get out of the house for a bit. You ready?"
"Yep," Jake replied.
They made way for the garage, only stopping for a moment for Jack to give Cindy a kiss before he left.
"What was that about?" Jake asked as they pulled out of the driveway.
"What?"
"The kiss?"
Jack looked taken aback. "Is a guy not allowed to kiss his wife anymore?"
"No, no, it's fine," Jake assured him. "It's just . . . I'm not used to you two getting along that well."
This part didn't surprise Jack. "Yeah, well, your mom and I have been getting a little help."
"You're seeing a shrink?"
"Your mom doesn't like to call it thatÑshe's much more into the phrase seeking guidanceÑbut yes, it's a shrink."
Jake considered the situation for a moment. I guess it's better than divorce, he thought, thinking back to their constant bickering the last time he was home. Even when he called home, there was always some shouting going on in the background. And each parent would call him separately to complain about the other. He tried his best to stay out of it, but he wasn't about to go as far as Lucy and just stop answering their calls entirely.
"That's very good of you two," he said. "It seems to be working."
"It is," Jack agreed. "It's not always the easiest, but I think things will work out in the long run."
"I'll tell Lucy it's safe to come back, then," Jake joked.
"How is your sister?" Jack asked, a mixture of genuine concern and interest on his face. He hadn't heard from his daughter in some time.
"She's fine."
"Is she seeing anyone?"
"A guy named Marcus. They've been together a couple years now. They both work at the hospital together."
"Do you see her often? Is he good to her?"
"He's great," Jake said. "The three of us get together a couple times a month for dinner and games. I think you'd really like him."
Jack shook his head, sorry for how things had ended up with his family. "I'm sorry your mother and I put you both in this situation. I hope you'll see while you're here that we are trying."
"I know," Jake replied. That much was obvious.
"We'd love it if you'd come back more, but I understand if it's not what you want."
"We'll see, Dad."
Jack nodded. "Right." Then, shaking things off, he added, "That's enough heavy stuff for now. How are things with you? Are you seeing anyone these days?"
There it was. That dreaded question. "No, not at the moment."
"Really? No women in your life at all?" Jack pressed.
His thoughts turned to the professor at BCU that he'd been seeing regularly, and then they moved on to Coach Roberts, someone his dad actually knew. "No, Dad. No women."
"Well, don't beat yourself up about it. You'll find someone when the time is right."
As reassuring as that sentiment was, Jake wasn't sure things would end up the way his dad thought they would.
They pulled into the parking lot of McAllister's and found it to be quite crowded. It seemed many other people also had some last-minute groceries to buy for Christmas dinner. Jack took a spot about halfway back in the lot, as far away from other cars as he could so no one could ding his doors, and they headed for the store.
A bell was ringing as they approached, followed by a hearty greeting. Jake took a brief look at the Salvation Army Santa Claus near the door and diverted his eyes. He had already donated a pittance through work. Just when they were about past the man, Jack stopped and said, "Hiya, Jerry. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you, too, Jack," the man said in that oh-so-familiar voice.
Jake looked up. The smile on Coach Roberts' face stretched from ear to ear. "And a Merry Christmas to you, too, Jake."
There was stir in his pants at seeing Coach Roberts decked out in the Santa outfit. The red, velvety robes wrapped snuggly around his old coach's round belly, and though every inch of the man was covered, Jake couldn't help but appreciate the image and imagine what it would be like to untie the sash and peel back those jolly layers. Lost in his own fantasies, and quite taken aback at seeing the old man so soon after their rendezvous two nights before, he didn't hardly know what to say. He was also painfully aware that for the first time, his dad was actively conversing with someone he had slept with. "Uh . . . Merry Christmas to you, Coach."
"What did I tell you about that, Jake? Call me Jerry," he insisted.
"Getting in some last-minute service before Christmas, Jerry?" Jack asked.
Coach Roberts shrugged. "Well, I don't have much family in the area anymore, so I just try to make myself useful to somebody."
"That's very good of you," Jack responded, clearly appreciating the good Christian nature of the gesture. "You don't have anywhere to go on Christmas?"
"No, but that's all right," Jerry said. "It's no big deal."
"Nonsense," Jack protested. "Stop by the house around 3:00."
Jake looked at his dad and his eyes narrowed. What was going on? He loved the idea of spending even more time with Coach Roberts, but he never thought his family would be there too!
"I couldn't do that. I wouldn't want to impose."
"You won't be. Cindy would love to see you, and we'd be glad to have you, wouldn't we, Jake?"
Coach Roberts looked to Jake for his approval. He didn't want the situation to be weird for the boy.
There wasn't really any way Jake could say noÑnot that he really wanted to anywayÑso he smiled back at his coach and said, "Of course."
Jack beamed back at Jerry. "Then it's settled. We'll see you at 3:00."
"Can I bring anything?" Jerry asked.
"Just an appetite."
"I can certainly do that!" he said, clasping his hands on his belly and laughing.
"Great," Jack said enthusiastically. "We'll see you then."
"See you then," Jerry said back, giving Jake a quick wink.
"Call your mother," Jack told his son as they entered the store. "Tell her to set the table for one more."
By the time 3:00 rolled around, the house and everything inside it was perfectly in place. Cindy had dusted the mantle and made sure the row of stockingsÑeven that of Jake's sisterÑwere neat in a row and perfectly spaced; the tree skirt had been straightened, and the Christmas train was circling the trunk, hurrying along its route bearing gifts for all; candles burned ever so slowly on the dining room table, flickering here and there as the waft of Christmas ham floated in from the kitchen.
Jake sat eagerly on the edge of the couch, anxiously waiting for Coach Roberts to arrive.
The doorbell rang, and Jake's heart leapt. He started for the door, but it opened on its own. Pushing their way through was Jake's Uncle Marty and Aunt Susan. His heart fell and so did his face. The two relatives shouted "Merry Christmas" as they made their way out of the foyer and into the living room. Jake had just enough time to regain his smile before they noticed him.
"Is that my little Jakey?" Aunt Susan squealed, passing the dessert in her hand off on her unsuspecting husband, whose own hands were full of bags filled to the brim with gifts.
"Hi Aunt Susan," Jake answered, bracing himself for her ecstatic embrace.
"It's so good to have you back for Christmas. Oh dear, would you look at you? Put on a few pounds, eh?" she said, pinching his cheek, before turning toward the kitchen.
"So I'm told," Jake replied under his breath.
"Johnathan?" she called, referring to her brother. Susan was the only one who called her brother by his full name. "Why didn't you tell me Jake was coming?"
"Surprise," he heard his dad say from the other room.
"Everything good in the city?" Uncle Marty asked, his arms still full.
Jake shrugged. "Living the dream."
"Good for you. Got yourself a sweet lady yet?"
"No, not yet."
"You know, before I met your Aunt Susan," he continued for some reason, "I used to have the most amazing times with those city gals. There was one by the name of Sadie Greene. She had golden curls running down into the nicest honkers you've ever seen. Not the biggest, mind you, but they were something else. Imagine, if you will, the best-looking honeydew melons you've ever seen. Got it?"
"Honeydew, yes," Jake replied, wondering where this was headed.
"Good. Now cut those down about halfÑI told you, they weren't the biggestÑbut they were just as sweet and juicy as any melon you'd find." Marty lowered his hands from the melon gesture he had been making in front of his own chest. "Are the Bay City gals still like that?"
"Like Sadie?"
"Yeah . . ."
"Even better," Jake lied.
"Better?"
"Cantaloupes."
Uncle Marty's face twisted up like he was both reminiscing about the old times, fantasizing about the current times he'd never get the chance to experience, and relieving himself in his pants. "You're a lucky kid, Jake. If there's any advice I have for you: don't settle down. Not until you have to."
"I'll keep that in mind, Uncle Marty."
"Marty!" Aunt Susan called from the kitchen.
"See what I mean?" Uncle Marty asked. "Not until you have to."
With that, he, too, disappeared into the kitchen. Jake rolled his head back to the ceiling and sighed. What on Earth made me think coming back for this was a good idea? he asked himself. As he lowered his head, there was a man standing in the foyer looking at him. Under his coat, he wore a light blue dress shirt beneath a red Christmas sweater that had a row of decorative white snowflakes. The sweater extended out around the man's rotund belly and ran down into a pair of dark slacks. The Santa suit was gone, but the man came bearing gifts.
The smile returned to Jake's face as he saw his former coach standing there in his home.
"Sorry, I'm late. The door was open." Jerry said.
Jake opened his mouth to say something back, but before he had the chance, his mother hurried into the room and, upon seeing Jerry, rushed toward him. "Jerry Roberts? Is that you?" She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in for a big hug. "It's so good to see you again."
"Likewise," Jerry told her.
"How long has it been?" Cindy asked.
"Well, let's see, I retired in 2012, so eight years, I suppose."
Cindy shook her head. "Incredible. It's amazing how the time flies." She turned back to where Jake was standing. "Jake? Did you see Coach Roberts is here?"
"Jerry is fine," Jerry insisted.
"Why don't you take his coat and get him settled. Dinner is in five minutes."
As she fled the room, Jerry and Jake moved slowly toward one another. Neither knowing what to say, Jake decided the best course of action would be to just do as his mother said. "I can take your coat, if you'd like."
Jerry smiled warmly back at the young man. "That would be swell. Would you mind?" he said, extending the plate of cookies and the wrapped gift in his hand.
Jake took the items and held them as Jerry removed his coat. "Coats go back in my room. I'm not sure why we're still doing it that way. Lucy isn't here, but that's how we always did it when I was a kid, so I think my mom just wants to keep the old traditions alive as much as possible, especially since I haven't been around inÑ"
"Jake . . ." Jerry cut him off, noticing his tell-tale nerves.
"Yes?"
"You're rambling."
"Sorry."
"Your room?" Jerry asked.
"Right. Follow me."
Jake led the old man out of the living room and down the hall to his bedroom. At the end of the hallway, there was a door on the right that was Lucy's room and a door on the left that was his own. He took the coat from Jerry and set it on the bed.
"I see you've had some fun with my jock," Jerry said, noticing the stained fabric on Jake's pillow.
Jake's face turned bright red as he grabbed the underwear and shoved it into his pillowcase, terrified of what would've happened if his Aunt or Uncle saw a cum-stained jockstrap sitting on his bed.
"Relax, I've seen it before. It was mine, you know?" Jerry offered. Then, seeing the blush in Jake's cheeks, he asked, "Are you all right? Are you sure you're okay with my being here?"
Jake's nerves kicked in again, and he silently panicked that he was ruining his second reunion with Coach Roberts. Things had worked out so perfectly when they first met in the diner two nights ago, he just didn't want some silly dinner with his family to ruin everything.
"Yes," he said. "It's just, my family has a way of getting under my skin. Not only did we," he paused before whispering, "do what we did, which would've set me on edge enough to have you meeting my parents, but you also already know them! If they knewÑ"
"They don't, and they won't," Jerry assured him, placing his hands on Jake's shoulders. "Believe me, I'm pretty good at keeping secrets, especially when I'm involved. Let's just go in there, have a nice dinner with your folks, and then I've got a little surprise for you."
"You do?" Jake asked. "Is that what's in the package?"
Jerry looked down and the gift in his hand. He had entirely forgotten about it as soon as he had seen Jake standing there in the living room. "Oh, no. This? You can have this now if you want."
He handed over the small gift, and Jake pulled the bow and ribbon over the corner and unwrapped the plaid paper. There was a framed photo inside of Jake and Coach Roberts from Jake's graduation party. It had been the night of graduation. Jake had invited several of his favorite teachers, but Coach Roberts had been the only one that had shown up. Coach Roberts looked exactly as Jake had remembered him from school. Jake, on the other hand . . .
"I really have put on some weight, haven't I?"
"Just a little," Jerry replied with a smirk.
"Thank you," Jake said, leaning in and hugging the old man. He wished to God that his parents weren't in the other room, that he could strip Coach Roberts out of his formal attire and fuck him on his childhood bed. But the reality of the situation was that they were now two minutes away from dinner, and it was best not to keep his mom waiting. "I love it."
"I'm glad. I had to dig a little for it."
He set the photo on the dresser, and they made their way to the dining room where everybody was already waiting for them.
"Marty, Susan, you remember Jerry Roberts, don't you? He was the gym teacher up at the school for the longest time."
"Of course, we do," Aunt Susan said, speaking for the both of them. In reality, only she had had Coach Roberts. Marty had gone to high school in Bay City and missed out. "Good to see you, Coach Roberts."
"Susan Huebner? Is that you?" Coach Roberts asked, his eyes opening wide. "You were, let's see, class of '84?"
"You got it," Aunt Susan replied, amazed that he remembered. "What a memory."
"I can't say I remember you all, but a few of you left an impression," he said, glancing over at Jake, who did his best to avoid eye contact in front of his family.
"Sit, sit," Cindy insisted, taking the plate of cookies from Coach Roberts, and they took their seats. "Let's say grace."
Cindy extended her hands to her sides and everyone else did the same. Jake enjoyed the feeling of Coach Roberts' rugged right hand as his mom said a short prayer. It wasn't right of him, but instead of listening and silently taking part in the giving of thanks, his mind turned toward lifting the hand to his mouth and delicately sucking one of his coach's fingers into his mouth.
By the time he let go, his cock was fully hard beneath the table.
"So, what have you been up to Jerry?" Cindy asked, as they all dug into the meal. "Jack says you were up playing Santa at McAllister's."
"Oh, yes, that's just one of those things I do to help the community. I keep myself pretty busy these days with projects around the house and volunteering. It seems I work harder in retirement than I ever did in school."
"Not me," Uncle Marty spat out. "When I retire, I'm letting someone else do the work."
"And who do you think that's going to be?" Aunt Susan countered, giving him the stink eye as she spooned a shovel's worth of mashed potatoes on her plate.
Jerry accepted a plate of ham from Jack and said, "Well, it's just me at the house, so while I'd like to get out and about more, someone has to do it. It's all right, though," he added. "I can always get some rest when I'm dead, isn't that right, Jake?"
Jake snapped out of his thoughts as he was drawn into the conversation. "Uh huh," he responded, looking over to see Coach Roberts giving him that smile.
"I like that," Jack said. "I'll rest when I'm dead. What a unique way of looking at things. If only all of us had that kind of work ethic."
"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," Uncle Marty said, staring at his brother-in-law with a wry smile. "What's the fun in working yourself to death?"
"So, Coach Roberts, you never married?" Aunt Susan asked, cutting her husband off before he made a fool of himself.
"No. I can't say I ever found the right person for it."
"Jake is walking down that same road," Cindy stated matter-of-factly, looking at her son and nodding in agreement with her own statement. "At the rate he's going, he'll be lucky to find anyone."
"There's plenty of gals in Bay City," Uncle Marty offered. "I was just telling Jake he needs to take advantage of it."
Aunt Susan scowled at him.
"Not advantage of the women," he countered. "Of the situation." Then, to Jake, he said, "Always be respectful to those gals."
When Aunt Susan was no longer looking, Uncle Marty added an obscene gesture that only he could get away with.
It was a scene out of Jake's worst nightmare. The last place he ever wanted to be was at a table with his family while they all shared in a conversation about his love life . . . or lack thereof. Even if he had something to contributeÑwhich he didn'tÑhe couldn't imagine doing so, as they were so focused on him finding a lovely girl and settling downÑor, in Uncle Marty's case, finding a wild one to show him a good time. None of them could possibly even fathom the idea that while they were all fantasizing about this girl that may or may not exist, Jake was sitting there fantasizing about the man sitting next to him.
He was the closest thing to perfect that Jake could imagine, and the furthest thing from what everyone else in his family could.
"For some of us, that's just where life takes us. But I think Jake will find the right person when the time is right," Coach Roberts said, nodding in Jake's direction. "Sometimes, these things find us when we least expect it.
He flashed Jake another smile and then took a bite of a large slice of ham.
Dinner came and went, followed by a plethora of desserts ranging from cherry pie, Aunt Susan's famous holiday fruitcake, and the cookies that Coach Roberts had brought.
"These cookies are to die for," Cindy said as they all made their way into the living room to open presents. "I haven't had molasses cookies like this since I was a kid."
"They were my mother's recipe," Coach Roberts said.
"Well, you'll have to send me it."
"Of course."
The plate of cookies was passed around for anyone still looking for some extra sweets. While they chewed, Jake stood at the tree and passed gifts out. Coach Roberts sat on the chair across the room and watched as Cindy received a hand knit shawl from Aunt Susan, and her husband received a puzzle. Jake's mom had given his dad a guidebook for a cruise they were taking in January, which was news to Jake, and his father gave her a new swimsuit for the beach in return.
Uncle Marty reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash, which he peeled a couple bills from and handed them to Jake. "Here . . . find a pretty one and show her a good time."
"Thanks," Jake uttered in reply as he took the cash.
Finally, once all the gifts had been handed out, Jack directed his son to one last package at the back of the tree. Jake crawled under and pulled it out. Holding it in his hands, he neatly undid the paper. Inside, was a board game: Parks.
"I hope it's not one you have already. I asked your sister, and she said you liked it."
Jake didn't know what to say. "I . . . I do. A lot. Thanks. You spoke to Lucy?"
"Just a quick text. She was at work, so she couldn't talk."
That sounded like Lucy. She had borne the brunt of their parents' fighting and had thus distanced herself from the two a little more than Jake had. The offer had been extended for her to return for Christmas as well, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.
"Thanks," Jake said. "It's perfect."
Jack nodded at his son. "Maybe we can play it before you leave."
"Sounds great, Dad," Jake replied.
With the giving of the gifts finished, Uncle Marty and Aunt Susan made to leave. Coach Roberts offered to stay and help with dishes, but Jack insisted he could handle it. They all said their goodbyes, and Jack and Cindy disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving Jake and Jerry alone once more in the foyer.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Jerry asked him, pulling his coat over his shoulders.
"Which part?" Jake asked. "My Uncle Marty groping air breasts across the dinner table or my entire family trying to arrange a marriage for me to a girl who doesn't exist?"
Jerry laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, maybe it makes a little more sense why you've stayed away so long."
"Now you get it."
"Hey, it's what family is for."
At that, Cindy came rushing out of the kitchen. "Jerry, you almost forgot your cookies."
"Keep them," he replied.
"Are you sure?" She looked delighted.
"I certainly don't need them," he said, patting his stomach.
"Well, I won't say no to more of these cookies! Take care, Jerry."
He nodded. "Thanks for having me, Cindy."
Once she was gone, Jerry looked at Jake. "I guess it's time for me to go now."
Jake didn't want him to leave. Just having the man around had made Christmas with his family bearable. He didn't want it to be over. Then, he remembered. "Didn't you say there was a surprise?"
Suddenly remembering, his face lit up. "Oh, the photo. Not everything is as it seems. If you want your surprise, you're going to have to go backÑback to high school."
He had no idea what that meant. "What's that got to do with the photo?"
Coach Roberts smiled. "Look back."
And with that, he turned and walked out the door.
Jake stood there in confusion for a moment, before rushing to his room and grabbing the photo off his dresser. "Look back," he said aloud. Staring at the image, he saw nothing but the two of them standing there. He turned the photo over and just saw the backing of the frame. Then, in the corner, he noticed the yellow corner of a piece of paper sticking slightly out from the edge of the frame. Undoing the notches, he pulled the back off and found a folded yellow paper. He unfolded it and read. It was a flyer for wrestling tryouts from Jake's freshman year of high school. The time was underlined: 8:00 pm.
Glancing at the clock, Jake noticed it was already 7:30. He grabbed his coat and rushed from the room.
"I'm going to Zach's," he called to his parents, and then slipped out the door.
When Jake arrived at Coach Roberts' house, he knocked but there was no response. He tried the door and found it opened. Walking inside, he looked around. The lights were off, save for one down the hallway above the kitchen sink. Continuing into the house, he called out. "Coach Roberts?"
"Down here," he heard from beneath him.
Jake turned back around and stepped into the hallway, where the door to the basement was cracked slightly. A light shone at the bottom of the steps. Slowly, Jake walked down the stairs until he reached the landing. He turned and gazed out into a rather large section of basement. On the floor in the middle of the room was a twelve-foot square wrestling mat. It was royal blue with one large white circle and a similar smaller circle in the center. Standing there, in the middle of it all, was Coach Roberts.
The tight red spandex of his wrestling singlet hugged the shape of his body, accentuating every curve from his pecs, down around his perfectly round belly, to the firm grasp it held on his package. The neckline ran a deep UÑdeeper even than the white, sleeveless tank he'd had on two nights beforeÑallowing the man's thick, black-and-gray chest hair to pour out over the top. Where the singlet ended in the arms and legs, he could see coach's furry arms and legs, which still held way more muscle than Jake had noticed before. The man was strongÑalbeit a little chubbyÑand if it weren't for the goofy grin on his face, Jake might be a little intimidated. But, under the circumstances, seeing his old high school crush standing there, wearing the outfit Jake had fantasized him wearing for over a decade, he couldn't help but feel his blood boiling up inside him, rushing its way from the far reaches of his body and setting up shop in his groin.
"You figured it out," Coach Roberts said. "I hoped you would."
"What's this?" Jake said, stepping down the last few steps.
"It's your surprise. You said the other night that you had always wanted to try out for wrestling, so I thought I'd give you the chance." Jerry turned around and grabbed a brown bag from the side of the mat. As he bent over to grab it, Jake noticed the faint outlines of a jockstrap through the spandex. "There's a bathroom over there," he continued, handing Jake the package.
Jake took the brown bag and peeked inside. He couldn't see the whole thing, but he knew enough from the blue spandex he could see to know that it was a singlet of his own. He wasn't quite sure when Coach Roberts had had the chance to shop for such a thing, but he didn't much care either. Excitement boiled up inside him as he looked from the bag back to his former coach. Taking it all in againÑthe tight spandex, the curves, the hair, that smileÑhe almost forgot to breathe.
"Well . . ." Coach asked after Jake had stood there for a minute. "You going to try it on?"
Jake snapped out of his fantastical reverie and noticed he was hard. "Yes," he replied, lowering the bag down over himself, to which Coach Roberts only grinned wider, and then turned and made for the bathroom.
Pulling the blue spandex out of the bag, Jake let the garment unfold in front of him. It looked positively too small for him, but he supposed that may have been Coach Roberts' intent. He set the singlet on the sink and removed his clothes. As he slipped out of his briefs, his six-inch cock sprung to life.
Though he had nothing to be ashamed ofÑespecially around a man he'd now had sexual relations with twice since returning home for ChristmasÑJake couldn't help but let old feelings and anxieties rise to the surface. One of the reasons he had never gone through with his dream of trying out for the wrestling team was due to the fact that there was no way he could get away with wearing tight, revealing clothing without revealing a bit too much about himself in his nether regions. He had had no interest at all in his fellow classmates, but just the spandex alone, tugging gently at his cock, would've been enough to chub him up and make him the laughingstock of the whole school. There was nothing gayer to high school boys than getting a hard-on from contact with another boy. He would've been ridiculed till the end of his days, forever known as the one who got a boner during wrestling tryouts, whether they ever discovered his real secret or not.
He took a deep breath and thought about how Coach Roberts had always tried to help him with his anxieties. The man would be disappointed if Jake couldn't do this for him. So, after waiting a minute or two so that his dick could hopefully go down someÑit didn'tÑhe slipped on the royal blue singlet and returned to the wrestling mat.
Coach Roberts' smile grew wider still at seeing Jake in the outfit. The singlet wasn't cut as low as his own, but it was enough to show off Jake's pale winter flesh and the thin, brown hairs speckled across his chest. The rest clung tightly to Jake's torso and the little bit of padding he'd added to his midsection. Near the bottom, the distinct outline of his hard cock bulged through the lyrca.
"You look great," Coach Roberts told him.
"Not as good as you," Jake replied a bit bashfully.
"It's probably a good thing you never tried out for the team in earnest."
"Why's that?" Jake inquired.
Coach Roberts laughed before he even made the joke. "They don't allow weapons like that in the ring!"
Jake glanced down and saw his sword was on full display. He moved to cover himself, but Coach Roberts said, "Don't."
Jake rested his arms back at his side. "So how do we do this?"
"Well, you can start by coming over here. No need to be shy. This is a contact sport, so you're going to have to get used to being a little up close and personal."
"I've got no problem with that," Jake insisted, stepping closer to the coach.
"Prove it," he said, beckoning Jake closer still. If he didn't know from having taught the young man for four years, he certainly could tell now that Jake had very little athletic ability. Even just walking in the confines of the spandex made him look awkward and clumsy. Coach Roberts sturdied himself by planting one foot firmly in front of the other, then hunched down as if ready to strike. "Now, give yourself a firm footing and assume the position."
Jake did as he was told, the excitement of finally wrestling the old man coupled with the nerves of getting walloped waging their own battle in his mind. Would it hurt? he wondered, thinking about being slammed to the mat. Or would it be erotic?
Coach Roberts extended a hand. Jake did the same, and they met in the middle. "I'm going to go easy on you at first, show you the ropes."
"Okay," Jake replied weakly. Coach's body was much more intimidating up close.
"Are you ready?"
Jake nodded.
Coach Roberts stepped forward and in one swift motion grabbed Jake's wrist, twisted, stepped around his backside, and pinned the arm between his back and the old man's belly.
"Is that the best you've got?" Coach Roberts asked in his ear.
"You didn't even give me a chance," moaned Jake.
"This is a tryout. You're supposed to show me what you've got. Again." He let go of Jake's arm and circled back around to the front, assuming his starting position once more. "I'm going to come at you like last time. Try and prevent me from pinning you again."
This time, as Coach Roberts stepped forward, Jake stepped to meet him. Still unsure of what he was doing, he met the coach's arms and furiously tried to get a hold on them. He got ahold of the right one, but the old man managed to grab his right, as well; his left went around Jake's neck and pulled him in tightly. Jake's head burrowed into Coach Roberts' shoulder, and the weight of the two men pressed against each other with such force that neither fell into the trap Jake had last time.
But Jake knew he was no match for Coach Roberts. Even if he had the weight to matchÑwhich he didn'tÑhe certainly didn't have the strength. He could feel himself struggling against the force of the old man and, just as he pushed his hardest, Coach let up, causing Jake to fall forward. With a grace that was quite unexpected from the old man, he spun around Jake's falling body, wrapping his arms around it, and fell with it. As they hit the mat, the weight of Jerry's body fell atop Jake's, and he felt the girth of the belly slam against his back; a round bulge pressed squarely against his ass, as well.
It was the position he'd waited a decade to feel; the one he'd dreamed of all those years; the one he could get lost in and stay in all day. Before he had a chance to savor the situation, Coach Roberts pushed off him and stood up. "Again."
They did this half a dozen more times, each time Jake ending up in increasingly erotic and compromising positions. One time, they ended up in a quasi-sixty-nine position, the coach's concealed equipment pressed firmly against his face. Another time, Jerry got him with one leg up in the air, pressed back as far as his tight muscles would allow, the old man's weighty weapon once more finding its way to Jake's ass. Another found him lying on the mat wrapped in a bear hug, pulled tight as his back arched over Coach Roberts' sweaty belly. Each time, as Jake enjoyed for the first time in his life the fact that his poor athleticism was finally working in his favor, Coach Roberts only took things so far before calling things off and saying, "Again."
The longer they fought, the sweatier they got. Jake grew tired, his muscles growing weak, and with every round his hands found it more difficult to find purchase on the man's slippery skin. But still he struggled with his former coach. Back and forth they went, scrambling for each other's arms, slipping and sliding with every grasp.
Just when Jake had just about had enough fooling around with no release, he found himself in the alpha position for the first time. In a happy accident, as he was reaching for one of coach's swinging arms, Jake managed to slip his way right up the sweaty arm to the shoulder; even more to his surprise, his hand found a hole in the pit to grip onto. With all the grace of a baby deer, he half stumbled, half intentionally ended up behind Coach Roberts, sliding both of his hands up through the arm pits and latching them up and around Coach Roberts' head.
It was the first time he had put anyone in a full nelson, and he rather liked the feeling. Now it was his torso pressing into the Coach Roberts' sweaty back. His cock, which had managed to stay hard through what seemed to him like hours of intense exercise, squeezed between the coach's moist cheeks like a hot dog on a bun. Breathing hard, he relished in his victory. It was the first time in as long as he could remember that he had actually won a physical anything. However, just as he was about to ask Coach Roberts if he yielded, the old man let out a laugh and everything went south.
Coach Roberts pushed back into him with his ass, which Jake took to mean he was finally ready to quit wrestling and move on to the next phase of the evening. Before he could let go, the coach ducked forward, flipping Jake over him as he rolled forward onto the mat. Jake twisted and hit the mat on his stomach with such a force that the wind was almost knocked out of him. The coach's body coming down half on top of him did the rest. Without a second's notice, Coach Roberts landed on one knee, spun around, and dove on Jake's back, putting them in the position of Jake's dreams once more.
"Never let your guard down," Coach Roberts told him.
Jake did his best to moan a response. It wasn't the exact way he had envisioned the situation playing outÑsure, there had been actual wrestling to get them there, but Jake had always thought it would be a bit more playful and not exactly hurt as much as it didÑbut if the rough housing wasn't exactly doing anything for him, it clearly was for Coach Roberts. For the first time, Jake felt the old man's growing shaft pushing into his ass. Before he had the chance to roll off and say, "Again," Jake pressed his hips back into the old man, letting him know he was ready for more.
Coach Roberts pressed deeper into Jake, who could do nothing but moan. The old man lowered himself, his bulging belly compressing against Jake's body, and put his face to Jake's ear. He began to suck on the lobe, gnawing at it gently with his teeth and tonguing the floppy cartilage. As he did so, he continued to rub his hips up and down, massaging Jake's butt through their singlets. Leaning forward a little more, he pressed his lips against Jake's cheek and kissed him, before slowly moving his lips down Jake's neck.
When he reached the nape of the neck, he lifted his body off the young man's and began peeling back the singlet; Jake lifted himself to assist. As the garment came down, Coach Roberts continued kissing his back. He shimmied the singlet down past Jake's hips and revealed that smooth, boyish butt. It fit perfectly within his hands. Giving each cheek a gentle squeeze, he separated them, revealing the tight, puckered hole.
Coach Roberts licked his lips before raising his middle finger and rubbing it lightly across the entrance. It clenched and released at his touch, begging him for more. He raised the finger to his mouth and sucked it in, doing his best to wet it as much of it as he could. Then he returned it to the hole and pushed. Once again, it clenched before relaxing enough for his finger to slide in.
Jake let out a heavy sigh as the finger entered him.
With eyes full of wonder and fascination, Coach Roberts stared down at the hole. He wanted it. He wanted to taste it, to feel its grip on his cock. He wanted to plant his flag and claim it as his own, then turn its owner around and hold him, keeping him safe and warm and next to his side.
Lowering his head toward the ass, he removed his finger and once again spread the cheeks wide. He couldn't take it any longer. Coach Roberts stuck out his tongue and licked the orifice, feeling the tremors of his touch pulsate through Jake's entire body as he did so. That was all the approval he needed. Running his tongue over the length of the opening once more, he lubed up the hole and told it to relax. Then, rolling it up as tightly as he could, he slid it inside, doing his best to work it open.
Jake pushed back against the tongue, wanting to feel more. It had been sometime since the professor from Bay City had last taken him, and that particular encounter had been interrupted by the man's wife, leaving Jake empty and unsatisfied. Now, between their shared history and the new connection he had recently established with Coach Roberts, Jake was more ready than ever before to be filled up inside.
Luckily for him, Coach Roberts was on the same page. The man stood up and removed his own singlet, his own hard cock happy to be released from its spandex prison. He grabbed a bottle of lube from the shelf and returned to Jake. As he lubed up the hole, Jake reached back and fondled the hard cock about to enter him. He was instantly reminded of the thickness.
"I'll go slow," Coach Roberts whispered, once again reading his mind.
"I can take it," Jake assured him. He may be the nervous type, but he wanted this more than anything. Because of that, he was confident he'd find some way to make it fit.
Jerry Roberts had heard such confidence before. He had never really considered himself to be "big" by any standard, but he had had enough guys struggle to take him that he had no choice but to believe it. For that reason alone, he knew he had to go easy on Jake.
He lined up the head with the hole and began to press against the opening. If he had done his job loosening the young man up, it should have gone in easy enough. It worked to an extent, but after he was about a quarter in, Jake tensed up and tried to force him back out. Jerry stopped what he was doing and slowly slid back out. After a few seconds, he pushed in again. He got a little further this time, but Jake stopped him once more.
"Just a bit further," Coach Roberts said.
"Mm-hmm," Jake groaned.
With that, Coach Roberts pushed the rest of his shaft inside.
There was an immediate feeling of fullness; it was just what Jake had asked for. He loved that feeling when a man was fully inside himÑtheir cock at peak rigidityÑwhen the beat of their heart raced from their chest into his ass. It was the kind of feeling that only felt better when he felt a connection with the man, and with Coach Roberts, Jake felt more connected than ever before.
"Go ahead," he said.
Trusting that Jake was indeed ready, Coach Roberts didn't need to be told twice. He pulled himself back out of the young hole and then forced himself back in. As he fucked Jake, the moans he heard coming from his former student encouraged him, told him it was okay to keep going, that he was doing his best to please the young man.
He lowered himself back down onto Jake, returning his gut to the small of his back. Reaching forward, he found Jake's hands above his head and held his wrists flat against the mat. Holding him down, he began to fuck harder, burying his dick as deep into Jake's ass as it could go; his weighty nuts slapped the sweaty taint with wild abandon.
After all those years watching his students and athletes throw down in the ring, Jerry Roberts loved nothing more than to be able to finally toss one of them on the mat and have his way with them. And Jake was the perfect candidate. Not only did he take to being held down, but he eagerly accepted the fucking he was given. He wriggled his ass back and forth, raising and lowering his hips to meet the thrusts as they came . . . he was everything a coach desired in an athlete.
As much fun as it was, it didn't take long before exhaustion set in. While his endurance was still impressive for his age, the wrestling foreplay had taken its toll on him. As his arms began to feel weak, Jerry neared completion. With one final thrust, he shot his load into Jake for the first time. The relief was instantaneous, but so was the fatigue. He collapsed on top of Jake.
Jake could feel the man on top of him. He could feel his weight bearing down upon him; he could feel the pulse in his dick still throbbing in his ass; he could feel the pounding of the old man's heart beating through his chest; he could feel the hot breath on the side of his neck. He could feel it all, and he loved every second of it.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Never better," Jerry puffed.
He pushed off Jake, the thick layer of sweat between the two men peeling like the adhesive of a Band-Aid as they separated. Jake rolled over on his back and stared up at his former coach. Jerry lowered himself again and planted a kiss on the young man's lips.
Pushing off once more, he got onto his knees, and then stood on his feet. He towered over Jake, offering him a splendid worm's eye view; his deflating cock pointing straight down at the young man. Jerry gazed down at Jake's own hard cock, eyeing it with delight. Then, he reached down and lifted Jake's legs, pulling the rest of the singlet off of him. Without a word, he grabbed the bottle of lube of the mat, squirted some in his hand, and reached behind himself to apply it.
Jake watched with fascination as Coach Roberts got back down on his knees and straddled him. The old man reached behind himself and grabbed ahold of Jake's cock, directing the arrow toward its target. Once it was in line, Coach Roberts lowered himself, feeling only a little resistance before it slid inside. A soft moan slipped from his mouth as he slid further down the pole, taking all six inches of Jake's cock in a matter of seconds.
Once he was situated, Jerry reached forward and placed his hands on Jake's pecs, squeezing the muscles in his palms. As he squeezed, he maintained eye contact with Jake and slowly worked him in and out of his backside. While he loved the rougher fuck on the couch from their first encounter, being able to look at Jake, locking eyes and having that greater connection, was much more of his style. He loved staring into those blue eyes, wondering what Jake was thinking as they explored one another's bodies.
Jake's hands made their way up to the coach's hairy chest, running his fingers through the dense carpet of fur. He traced them over to the nipples, giving them each a pinch before letting the hands drift down Coach's smooth sides. He wrapped them around the hairless ass and gripped the cheeks, gently guiding Coach Roberts up and down as he drove his dick inside him. With his feet planted firmly on the ground, he thrust harder into the old man, wanting to give him back every inch that he had shared with him.
Their breathing remained steadyÑdeep yet calmÑand their eyes glued to one another's. They found a rhythm this way, one giving while the other took, and the minutes passed by without either realizing it. It wasn't until Jake spewed his load inside the old man that they broke their link.
The old man smiled down at his pupil. "There's my star athlete," he said with that same old goofy grin.
Jake raised his eyebrows. "Does that mean I made the team?"
Coach Roberts gave a non-committal shrug. "Your form is a little weak, but you might be good enough to be manager."
"Manager?" Jake asked, a little disappointed he wasn't even good enough to make a fictional wrestling team. "What does he do?"
"A little bit of this and that. Stays late after practice. Helps his coach with . . . you know."
And Jake did know. "Oh. You know.' I think I can live with . . . you know'."
Jerry attempted to lean forward and give Jake another kiss, but he wasn't quite flexible enough to do it without forcing the cock out of him. It popped out just as he reached the young man's lips. After they kissed, Jerry rolled off of him and lay on the mat. Reaching his arm out, he wrapped it around Jake's neck once moreÑthis time, it was gentleÑand pulled Jake closer, nestling him under his arm. "Hmmm . . ." he said with a grin. "I could get used to this."
"Me too," Jake whispered. "Me too."
After a few minutes of silence, Jerry said, "You know, I always wanted to wrestle a student like that."
Jake turned toward him, propping himself up on his arm. "I believe it."
"I still do wrestle from time to time, but mostly with more old farts like me. I think the youngest guy to show was in his forties. But that right there . . . that was something else."
"So, it was good?" Jake asked. He thought he had been pretty miserable at the wrestling part of it all.
"That was wonderful."
"Do you, you knowÑ" He didn't quite know how to phrase it. "Fuck the guys you wrestle?"
"It depends on the guy," Coach Roberts admitted. "There's a lot of testosterone and juices flowing on the mat. You never know what might happen."
A glow emitted from Jake's face as excitement built with in him. "That sounds nice."
"It certainly can be." With that, Jerry rolled himself off the ground and stood up, offering Jake his hand. "For now, what would you say about some desert? I've got a Christmas pie up there with our names on it."
"I could go for that." Jake said, taking the hand and pulling himself up.
"Watch yourself," Jerry said as he started toward the stairs. "Don't go dripping on my floor."
Jake turned to look behind him. There were no drops of any kind. He turned back to see Jerry smiling at him once again. "If I do drip, it's your fault," he snapped.
"TouchŽ. I guess we'll both have to be careful then."
He wrapped his arm around Jake's shoulder, pulled him in close, and led him upstairs.
©2021 **************************************************************************
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