Meat Rack

Meat Rack Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)

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MEAT RACK by Bill Drake

"Hey Coach!"

It was just a normal day at the big box store, when Steve White heard a voice he recognized. It took him a second to place it, but instinctively he knew it was a former student.

Indeed, it was.

"Michael!" Steve responded in surprise, though half of his surprise was in seeing his former player, Michael Stanton, sauntering up to him in the flesh. Stanton had been a normal kid, a good but not extraordinary athlete when he played shortstop on the Marshfield High baseball team. That was eight years ago, at least, and Michael... well, the cute, happy-go-luck jock had gotten jacked. He was wearing baggy shorts and a not-so-baggy T-shirt that seemed mounded over a lot of round muscle.

"I go by Mike now, Coach," he said with a friendly smile.

"Mike," Steve corrected himself. "So... you in town visiting?"

The friendly smile grew more serious. "Nah, I moved back, Coach. My mom's not doing so hot... I came back to take care of her."

Coach knew his players pretty well. He didn't know Stanton's whole story, but he knew the guy had a single mother. "Sorry to hear, man," he said, giving the ex-player a paternal pat on the arm. "You, um, got a job lined up?"

Mike shook his head, his brown eyes almost hidden beneath his ball cap. "Yah. Still working my old job out in San Francisco... doing the remote work thing."

"That's cool," White said. "McConnell said you were doing pretty well for yourself out on the West Coast."

Jason McConnell had been Mike's teammate and best friend. They grew apart some in college and had a real falling out when Mike came out. They'd made their truce just before Mike moved back. Jason was dealing with marriage and parenthood and a dead-end job and was too worried about his own problems to dwell on his old hangups.

Mike shrugged. "Yeah, it's a good gig. The only drawback is the later hours... cuts into any social life... not that this town has much on that front," he chuckled, before adding. "No offense, Coach."

Steve laughed, too. "Believe me, no argument here. I've thought of moving into the city, but my life and my job are here, you know?" He wasn't sure why he was being so open with Mike. This young man he hadn't seen in eight years. But it probably had something to do with just how goddamn hot and sexually alluring Stanton was now. Coach had never made a play for any of his players - or an ex player for that matter. But Mike Stanton was the sort of muscled stud who'd be the star of his JO fantasy regularly.

"My mom says you're divorced now," Mike said with an earnest sympathy.

"Small town, huh?" Coach wisecracked. "Yeah. A couple of years ago. Wasn't working out."

"Sorry to hear, Coach." Mike didn't know too much about Coach's personal life. He'd been married to a smoking hot ex-sorority type, but they'd never had kids. And Steve White was now pushing 40... looking very fit for his age, and still with that rakishly handsome appearance... shaved thinning hair, trimmed dark beard, roman nose and square jaw. The way Steve's soulful eyes met Mike's gave the younger man that first indication that his former coach just might be into men.

Steve forced a smile. "I'm doing all right, kid. It's just an adjustment that's all."

"Cool," Mike said, as he dared to look his former coach directly in the eye again. There was that sly hint of intensity again. Fuck, could it be? he thought. Instead, he just cocked a shy grin. "Well... I'll you get going, Coach."

Steve reached out and patted Michael's arm again. A little longer body contact this time. That was some incredible tricep and bicep action there and he wanted another feel. "Good to see you Michael..." the older name slipped out. "Hopefully I'll see you around more."

Mike felt that giddy thrill of the hunt. Usually he felt it when DM-ing on an app, but this was better. Maybe Coach was just fucking with him, or the man was just a natural flirt. "Yeah... hope so."

But neither man made a move to part.

Steve gulped. "Maybe we can hang out sometime... if you wanna give me your number."

The smile on Mike's face told him it was the right move. "Sounds great, Coach."

Steve pulled the phone out of his pocket to get his phone.

Their first date wasn't really a date. But Steve had invited Mike over for burgers and to watch a baseball game after. As a high school coach, he enjoyed his summer evenings, at least in the quiet of July.

Any self control went out the window when Mike showed up, in an even more form fitting T-shirt than before and a pair of baseball shorts that seemed a size too small on him. And without the shield of his ball cap, Mike's eyes seemed to be hunrgily eating up Coach White's DILF-body, in his casual summer attire and flip flops.

They bumped fists in greeting as Steve showed him inside, then the hug came almost automatically. A right, claspy bro hug. Until it was something more. Mike smelling the cologne on Steve's neck and gently feeling up that strong, more mature back. Steve feeling Mike's smooth cheek against his own beard as their faces repositioned and their mouths met.

The connection was electric and both men kissed deeply, with heavy tongue, making out and grinding right there in Steve's hallway. It was like pent up years of forbidden fruit combined with their recent dry spells to make them even hornier.

And when Mike started tugging at the hem of Steve's shirt, the older man pulled back to let him.

"Damn, Coach," Mike hissed. "Love a fucking hairy chest..."

Steve wished he'd had more experience with men. There was the fumbling affair he had the last year of his marriage, the one that had pushed him to divorce. And he'd gone online for a couple of hookups in the city. But Mike was in another league, the combo of this jacked muscle bod and the personality Steve had remembered from years ago. Stanton was intimidating as hell, but the coach had never felt harder in his life.

And he faked some confidence too as he stood, hands on his hips, and showed off his furry body to an appreciative Mike, who was already pulling down his shorts. The younger jock type had a smaller dick than Steve's but it was a nicely shaped rigid tool that stood up hard and thick from a well trimmed crotch, with a shaved nut sac clinging tight. Stanton kicked off his shorts and smirked as he peeled off his T-shirt.

"Holy fuck," Coach White hissed. This kid was muscle on muscle. Bodybuilder big. The man didn't even realized he liked men that big, but there was something innocent and playful in his former player, too, despite the young dude's clear sexual confidence. Hurriedly, Steve worked to unzip and take off his shorts.

Mike stepped up again and ran his strong hands along his former coach's fur. "Please tell me you're a top, Coach," he laughed.

Steve gulped. After being with only 4 men in his life, he wasn't sure what he was actually. But the idea of fucking Stanton made him horny as fuck. He shucked his boxer briefs just a second after his shorts fell to the floor and he pulled Mike's thickly powered body into his own for another kiss.

Mike knew he had an incredible body. He worked hard for it, and if anything since he'd moved back home he'd devoted almost all of his spare time to getting bigger and better defined. But a part of him craved the approval of this man and got off on the ultimate forbidden fruit from his teen years.

Steve led the two back to the master bedroom. He used to think the king bed was overkill for a bachelor, but with a muscle lunk like Stanton joining his own fit, athletic frame, he was grateful for the room to roll around. Steve liked being playful during sex, lots of foreplay, lots of making out and shifting positions.

It had been a real long time since Mike had been with a guy with this approach. In SF, so much of the chemistry he had with his tops was established online and the sex was centered around the acts of domination. Mike Stanton was wired that way, to be some guy's sub, but Steve's sensual kisses along his neck was pushing buttons he didn't realize were there to be pushed. Hungrily, he clutched Coach White's back and wrapped his tree trunk legs around the man's waist.

Mike's power bottom approach, meanwhile, was getting to Steve. Mike Fucking Stanton... the last dude he'd thought would be in his bed, beneath Steve, craving Steve's cock. Fucking begging for it. He pulled back from the kiss and reached over to root through the night stand for some lube.

The entry was quick, Steve worried too quick, but the muscle dude beneath him was bucking his ass up into Coach's crotch, that ass tight as hell but stretching around the top's thick tool as Mike let out a surprisingly deep grunt.

"Fuck!" he growled. "Fuck me Coach!"

"Jesus," Steve muttered, pulling back to power back in. They hadn't even brought up protection, but at least the man had gotten a PReP prescription after the divorce. And this raw hole felt fucking amazing. He wasn't gonna stop now, or even slow down.

Mike had fantasized about a Coach White fuck for a long time. But even now he still couldn't believe it was happening. The man was just perfection. Masculine, just the right age, just the right amount of muscle but not more muscular than Mike. That was part of his kink...

The faster and hard Steve fucked, the more Mike seemed to crave it, and the more the older man responded, throwing his whole body into the fast, impetuous mating.

Steve liked to be a caring lover, making sure a guy got off. But he was gonna get to the finish line quick, and Mike's urging him to breed him was the permission he needed to let loose.

"FUCCK!" the coach hissed, raising his head as he unloaded a cum deposit that was probably the biggest he'd shot in his life. His whole body jerked in orgasm, and he heard Mike's excited exclamations, and felt those strong hands feeling up his furry torso.

The man's face was still flush when he looked down on Stanton. "Your turn bud," he said, reaching for the lube to squirt some on Mike's cock. Taking hold of those strong legs, Steve hoisted them on his shoulders and began a slow gentle in and out motion of his still rigid cock.

It was then that he realized Mike probably shaved. No 26 year old was this naturally smooth. It looked great on him, Steve decided, but the real attraction were those soulful brown eyes looking up at him while Mike stroked in quick jerks. A look of sexual need.

"You been thinking about me before today?" Steve asked.

Mike nodded, incredibly turned on. "God, Coach, you have no idea."

Normally, Steve would be shutting the topic down, quick. He didn't mess around with his players and didn't really even let his fantasies go there. But Stanton was long graduated, and after putting out for Steve just now, the man felt he'd do what it takes to turn the kid on.

"You wanna tell me, bud? Tell me how you crushed out on Coach all those years?"

Mike's eyes went wide. And it all came pouring out. A stream of consciousness of fantasies, remembered moments, how he wish Coach had fucked him after every game. Maybe Mike was embellishing memory with sex talk, but he was clearly getting more and more worked up. Steve had to admit he was rock hard again, inside Stanton's freshly bred ass.

It didn't take long for Mike to spray his seed, all over that bulging, smooth ripped muscle. If Steve had been 26 instead of 39, he would have gone for a second cum. Instead he pulled out and let Mike's heavy legs down. Patted that thick thigh muscle, he grinned with appreciation. "What do you say we shower up and then go fire up the grill? Then we can talk."

"Yah, Coach," Mike hissed, a little fucked out and woozy, but feeling the thrill of his life.

They developed a routine. Mike Stanton had missed this all right. An older man who pushed all of his buttons and then more. Coach wasn't like those SF doms, for sure, the sex was purely vanilla, but Steve's role as an authority figure in Mike's younger days compensated.

Mike was coming over every day. Maybe this wouldn't be sustainable once the school year started up, but the summer meant he could show up at the Steve White residence in the morning, before his West Coast work hours started. They'd fuck, sometimes a quickie, sometimes a nice slow session, then they'd have breakfast. Mike had blown his former coach, too, and that was great, but both men decided they missed fucking if they skipped a day.

Steve was gaining confidence in the bedroom, confidence as a take-charge top. Something about having a power bottom around will do that for you. But it was the rest of it all that gave him doubts. This was so different than dating women, hell it was different even than courtship dates with those guys on Scruff. Here Steve White was in a steady sexual relationship with a very hot younger man out of his league. And Mike Stanton was very sex focused, not giving off romantic vibes. Why would he? Steve knew he was just fantasy material for the kid.

It came out in a joke though. As Mike was peeling off his shirt one morning, Steve took in the sight of all of that huge 20-something muscle and sighed. "I guess I need to start hitting the weights harder to keep up with ya, Stanton."

Mike shook his head and instead of that lusty grin had a serious look on his face. "Actually, it's kind of my thing, Coach... I like being the bigger guy."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked. He wished to hell he hadn't waited so long in life to come out - wished he had more experience under his belt.

"I realized I'm a muscle sub," Mike replied.

Coach White laughed. He felt bad, but it was an automatic response. "Sorry, bud I'm not laughing at you. For real.. it's just... I'm just a dumb suburban high school coach, I have no fucking idea what you're talking about."

Thankfully, Mike laughed along. He gave a smirk as he explained. "I don't expect you to be into all that, Coach. But in the city, there's a big scene, I guess you get all kinds of guys. Well, some like dominating bigger muscle men."

"Yeah?" Steve asked. Curious. And while it wasn't something he'd ever thought of, the idea Mike was into something kinky was itself a turn on in a way.

"Yeah," Mike answered. "And I like being the muscle guy they use."

Steve thought about it for a second. "So... do you want me to, you know, use you like they did?" He wasn't sure if he was into that. He liked Mike Stanton. Liked him a lot. Respected him. And if Steve was honest, he was full on infatuated with his former player.

Mike shook his head. "Not if it's not you, Coach. You're vanilla and that's cool. The sex is pretty amazing, and I don't wanna fuck things up between us."

"I'm glad," Steve said. "You know... I spent years too chicken to do anything. When I divorced, I told myself I was going to give everything a try... within reason."

Mike took in the implications of what Coach White was saying. "Let's it feel it out, Coach. It's something that's gotta develop on its own, you know?"

Steve didn't know. He wish he did. This hot muscle hunk had him under a major spell. Hell, he didn't even know if he and Stanton were boyfriends, and the older man wished he didn't feel so green. "Yeah, sure," he answered.

Mike smiled. "Why don't you sit down?" he said as he started peeling down his shorts. White had quickly learned that Mike generally went commando, and indeed the man had 5'8" of muscle dude standing in front of him nude and ready.

Steve nodded and sat down. He had a good idea Mike wanted to blow him, at least as foreplay, so he pushed down his lounge pants and let his boner ride up. The serious conversation had made it go soft some, but it was like his dick knew it was about to get taken care of. It jerked up fully hard in a few jerks.

Mike hissed as he got down between Steve's legs and started sucking him. Steve sometimes regretted that Mike wasn't more romantic. It was all about sucking and fucking. Even their kissing was hard and sexual. But as he watched the 26 year deep throat that coach cock, the man wondered if he even cared about the rest. With every sex act, Mike Stanton rearranged his world in the best way.

He was going to do it again today. Mike pulled off after about a minute, just enough head to get Coach worked up. With a determined look he stood up and turned around. Mike's front was great, but that back side was a work of art. Flared lats that somehow still integrated with the rounded bulk of his entire back, a trim waist, and a meaty muscle ass.

That ass was backing up as Mike squatted down some and reached behind to grip Steve's spit wet boner.

"I'm already lubed," he said and sure enough he lined his butt up to the older man's hardon, working the tip along the crack just enough to get it to the target. Then Mike Stanton sat on the man's cock.

Steve watched in excitement as Mike sat all the way down in one go, the snug insides a telltale sign it wasn't as easy on the kid as Michael made it seem. The big muscle jock just let out a hiss and braced his weight on his thighs, using his core to steady himself further as he worked himself down. Then up. Then down.

Everything about this was wild to Steve. Mike's submissiveness, the slick feeling of that ass working his pole, the warmth from the stud's muscle bod. He didn't warn Mike this time, he just let himself orgasm in that hole.

"Fuck yes," Mike cried, maybe responding to a quiet telltale grunt of his former coach. "Load me up good, Coach." His hip motion grew wilder then slowed as he massaged Steve's bone with his now cum-soaked hole. But he didn't stop. And Steve didn't tell him to. Now, the man's hands were openly on Mike's nakeness, caressing that muscle, feeling him up. Steve thought of the men he knew around town who'd divorced and now had trophy wives. Maybe he was as shallow as those fuckers, but yeah he got the appeal now.

"You gonna go for a second time, Coach?" Mike asked, still working his hips, a little faster now.

Steve may have been 39 not 26, but he knew he could. Maybe it would take a longer time to get him off, but he could cum again. "Yeah, Stanton," he grunted. "But why don't you ride me the other way. I wanna see your face."

The kid had been right, Steve realized. This was something they had to feel out. But the man was open to hearing about Mike's doms. All that history, all that time in San Francisco. Stanton was real fucking hesitant to share that at first, but Steve was open minded. Maybe a little jealous: his former player had a LOT of fun in SF, it turns out. There was Mike Stanton's slut period after college, the figuring himself out period, and the muscle bitch period. It gave Steve a boner to hear Mike's stories and his fantasies. But mostly he was glad the guy was sharing this part of his life with him.

White for sure was the only guy in town who knew this side of Mike Stanton.

It was Steve who had a harder time opening up. About his insecurities, about his regrets in life, about being mostly in the closet at work, about how he wasn't sure that the next step in his life would be. But he told Mike this stuff, over breakfast, or watching a game on the weekend.

He shared with Mike his fantasies and apologized they were so boring.

"It's not a contest, Coach," the younger guy replied.

But just as they were getting closer, their time together got hit by a double whammy. School started back for Steve. Not only did that mean no more morning sex on weekdays, but just being back at work made him nervous about being with a guy, particularly a former player. If people found out - and who was he kidding, they would - Steve White would be out of a job and possibly unemployable.

He rehearsed what he was gonna say to Mike. Hell, maybe Stanton wouldn't mind. It was all sex for the kid anyway, Coach guessed. Steve just happened to be the lucky guy to be the regular release of a majorly horny bottom stuck in goddamn suburbia.

But just as he was about to invite Mike over for that heart-to-heart talk, Mike called.

"Steve," he said brusquely. Probably the first time Mike hadn't called him Coach first. "My mom's in hospice."

Steve could hear it all in Mike's voice. The hurt, the fear, and the bravery all at once. It crushed his heart. "Mike... god, so sorry, buddy," he said. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Nah," Mike said, exhaling a sigh. "I just wanted to let you know. I can't see you for a while."

"God, Mike," Steve said. "Do what you need to do. Don't worry about me. I'll be thinking of you."

"Thanks, Coach," he said. "I gotta go now."

"Yeah, Mike, take care."

Steve wasn't sure if he should go to the funeral, then decided he needed to show his support. He called up a bunch of he guys he knew from Mike's time on the team, at least the ones he knew were in town. Sometimes he had to call the parents to find a contact. And Mike's old bud Jason McConnell helped.

Mike was touched and emotional when they showed up at the memorial service. He had his brave face on, but Steve could read it had been a tough week for the kid. Maybe a tough few months, but Stanton hadn't shared much all summer.

Then it was radio silence for a month and a half. It gave Steve a lot of time to think. Whatever happened with Stanton, he needed to move on. From his marriage, from his life here in Marshfield, from the hetero identity he had as a younger guy.

"OK if I come over sometime, Coach?" came the text message out of the blue.

"Of course," Steve replied. "Name the time."

"Now?"

"Yes, I'm here Stanton."

Steve didn't yet know what the line between infatuation and true love was. Maybe something so one-sided could only be the former. But when Mike Stanton showed up, the man just knew he'd missed his former player something awful. He greeted the guy with a bear hug.

"Good to see you buddy... So sorry for you loss, man."

Mike held on for an extra second or two. He'd missed Coach White a lot, too. His body, his presence, the comforting role in his up-ended life. "It's all good, Coach," he said as he pulled back. "It's been tough, but I'm good." He looked into Steve's brown eyes and felt up the man's body beneath a button down shirt. "We can, you know, talk some, but I really need good, hard fuck first. Think you can help me out, Coach?" He laughed at how ridiculous he must have sounded.

Steve laughed in response and nodded. "I'm pretty sure I can help you out there, Stanton," he said.

Coach White wasn't sure he bought into that love languages crap, but as they mated on his king bed, it clicked for him. This fuck... doggy, no foreplay, a little rough... was how Michael Stanton expressed and received love. And because of that, that's how Steve was expressing it to this special man in his life. Hard grip on those hard hips, eyes glued to Stanton's muscle cheeks, his hips slowing down so he could concentrate on hard jabs into the muscle bitch's guts.

Steve was doubly pleased that Mike came first, spraying an overdue and pent up load onto Steve's bedsheets.

They showered together, silently, and went to share a beer in Steve's living room, in only their underwear. Previously, Steve would have made sure the blinds were closed. Now, he didn't fucking care.

"I put the house on the market today," Mike announced. "It took a while to go through all the stuff, but it was therapeutic, too."

"You take any time off from work?" Steve asked, concerned.

"Three days," Mike answered. "But that's helped too... having a routine." He took a sip then looked into Steve's eyes. "Sorry I disappeared on ya, Coach."

"Come on Stanton, you don't have to apologize for that."

Mike gave a silent nod that said "thanks."

"So..." Steve asked. "When the house sells, you're moving back to San Francisco?" He was scared of the answer. He always knew he was on borrowed time with Mike, but in his mind the inevitable was always off in the future. The future was now, though.

"I gotta move to a city, Coach," Mike said. "Maybe not San Francisco, but I can't stay in fucking Marshfield."

"Yeah," Steve said, sadly. Then he gathered up every bit of courage had. Proposing to his ex wife had been ten times less nerve racking than this. "Would you be upset if I asked to move wherever you go, Mike?" His eyes nervously caught his lover's, and his heart pounded.

Mike sighed. "I can't ask that of you, Coach."

"You're not asking that of me," Steve clarified. "I'm asking it of you." He took a sip to wet his now dry throat and continued. "I've had some time to think Stanton. I need a change. I'd be doing this for me, I promise."

That seemed to appease Mike. "So... would we live together or what?"

"Together. Separate places. I don't care," Steve said. He almost added that he loved Mike, but felt it would be selfish to say it so soon after Mike's mom's passing. "You can decide."

"Give me some time to think on it, OK, Coach?"

"Absolutely," Steve said.

The two finished their beers and Mike stood up. "It's late," he said. "I gotta go."

Steve nodded and when Mike came back from the bedroom, fully dressed again, he stood up to walk him out. This had been a perfect evening in a lot of ways but now there were more questions raised than answered. "Glad you came over, Stanton."

"Oh, Coach," Mike said before leaving. "I think McConnell suspects something about us, about you. I didn't tell him anything, but I get that feeling."

Steve patted Mike's hard delt. "It's all right, Mike. I'll have a talk with him. I'm tired of the secrets and the gossip around town."

They found a reasonably sized one bedroom in a decent neighborhood in Chicago. Steve White had a few job interviews lined up. It seemed like social studies teachers were in more demand than baseball coaches, but he could pick up side coaching or reffing gigs that could lead to something else. It was his first time living with another man, and he was nervous and giddy at the same time.

But nothing had prepared him for Mike Stanton's change in attitude. More relaxed now, happier. The kid really had some issues with his hometown, a hold over from growing up there. Steve felt complicit in that in some small way, but mostly he gave Mike the space to talk about what he felt comfortable talking about and not talk about he didn't want to.

The first couple of weeks had been about Steve's job interviews and Mike catching up in the virtual office. But that third weekend they devoted to going big box shopping to get what they needed for the place. All of Saturday, they spent furnishing and decorating. Nothing fancy, but they both wanted it to feel lived in, the kind of place they could come home to. They were both sweaty and in old beat up clothes when they finally sat at their new table for a beer and some Chinese take out.

"I love ya, Coach," Mike said, blurting it out.

"Jesus, Stanton," Steve said, emotional as fuck. "I love you too. I have from that start," he added.

"Yeah, I know, Coach," Mike replied. "Sorry, I was too chicken to tell you before. I know that stuff's important to you."

It was touching to hear but raised another question for Steve. "Is it not important for you?"

Mike thought a second. "I mean, it is, but it isn't. You being in my life is important. But I guess I'm a little fucked up in how I show it."

Steve nudged Mike's leg beneath the table. "You show me every goddamn day, Stanton. Don't think I don't know that."

That made Mike smile.

A million thoughts flashed through the coach's brain. One half of him was processing his emotions, the other was deciding how to be the top Mike Stanton wanted. Needed. "Stand up."

Mike's smirk grew into a bigger smile as he pushed back the chair and did as Steve instructed. Following instructions came easily to him, but he also wanted Coach White to know how easily he followed orders.

The sight did make Steve's cock jerk harder in his shorts. He was getting into this dynamic more and more. "Take off your shirt," Steve ordered. Not in a stern way, but in a kind of friendly, paternal "Coach" tone.

Excitedly, Mike peeled off the T, flexing his muscle for Steve.

"You gotta a whole lot of muscle, don't ya, Stanton?" Steve asked, tauntingly.

"Yes, sir, Coach," Mike relied. Coach knew Mike's turn ons but the man had never gone this far with them. Verbalizing them like this.

He was going further, still. Steve White's eyes swept up and down Mike's ex-jock body as he massaged the boner in his shorts. "It turns you on to get big doesn't it, kiddo?"

"Fuck, Coach," Mike hissed. Turned on as fuck. Surprised.

That made Steve smile. He was on the right track. He leaned back in his chair, enjoying the power play. "You were a hot little stud back then... but you graduated and moved off.. and got fucking JACKED."

Mike was rock hard in his shorts now. He wished he could return the volley, but when a dom pushed his buttons like this, Mike brain would short circuit. "Yah," he muttered.

Steve took on more look and let out a soft, stern, "Lose the shorts, Stanton.... show me just how jacked you got for your coach."

"Yessir," Mike muttered as he stripped all the way down, quickly. His dick was hard now, pointing right toward Steve. He asked, "You like my body, Coach?"

"Fucking love it," Steve growled before looking up into Mike's soulful eyes. "You could probably get bigger for me though, right?"

"Oh God," Mike groaned. His dick jerked and leaked and he watched Steve White get a happy smile, pleased he'd found out how to turn Mike on.

Mike had told Steve a lot, but Steve was also playing it by ear. He didn't know why he resisted trying this, it was fun as hell seeing this stud responding to Steve's words and actions. It all just seemed to click now.

"Tell me, Stanton," Steve urged as he reached forward and touched that hard, thick chest. "Tell me how much you like being my muscle toy."

This was vanilla Steve meshing with a new dom Steve, and it was driving Mike wild. "I love being your fucking muscle toy, Sir."

Steve felt up those arms now, which flexed beneath his touch, before looking back up at Mike's face. "I'm not like those doms you had before, hear?" he said, half warning, half playful jibe.

"No, Sir," Mike hissed. A deep part of him hoped that Steve would eventually embrace a little bit of what some of his past doms tapped into. But in every other way, this man was ten times hotter for Mike.

"You know why...?" Steve asked, finally standing up so he could run his hands possessively over Mike's meaty hard rump. He stood, fully clothed to Mike's nakeness, and the contrast was driving both men wild. "Cause they weren't your Coach."

Their lips crashed. In the past Mike would have thought a kiss like that would break the spell. But this was a different man with a different approach. And it somehow made his sexual submission to Steve that much hotter.

Steve was too worked up and Mike was too. They didn't even bother with the bedroom. This would be their fuck in the dining area just off the kitchen. Steve bent Mike over and rooted around the cabinet for some cooking oil. Not too much, just a drizzle would all it would take to lube the way. As he entered Mike he wrapped his fist around the kid's cock to grease him up too.

Then it was off to the races. Heavy, fast mating over their new kitchen table, take out cartons brushed to the side as Mike held on to the far end with his left and and jerked with his right as he took it readily.

"I should have really started you on weights back then," Steve hissed mid thrust. "So you'd be even bigger now."

The cum just got pushed out of Mike's cock in steady sync with Mike's own spasming, pistoning shaft. He almost blacked out from the intensity of it.

"Goddamn, Stanton," Steve White said as his hips slowed to a halt, though he wasn't pulling out. Not yet. "It's gonna get even hotter between us, isn't it?"

Mike was catching his breath. He was used to being the one to show Steve White the ropes, but Coach had just shown him the hottest orgasm of his life. His body shook to even think about anything hotter. "Yeah, Coach, it is," he replied, just as he felt Steve's warm, sweaty shirt press into his back and the man's soft lips peck gently at his neck.