The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, in towns, cities, nor governmental areas, which the story is stages. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offences you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. Sexual safety matters. This is fiction. Use protection, in real life.
ROAD TRIP administrative action wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Walking into the gymnasium building of Applegate University, Anthony passed by the glass door leading to the pool, one of the few times during the day when the water acted as serene as sunset on a lake. Standing there for a moment he thought about not the swim team, but each face of the five track team members, trying to assign a name to face, recalled from the roster.
"Hi again coach!"
Turning around, the `inseparables' stood behind him.
"Done with brunch already?" Anthony asked the two, an index finger brushing at the corner of his mouth to tell Robbie he had some ketchup lingering on his lip.
"Thanks," Robbie says, rubbing his hand over his mouth.
"No, other side, doofus!" Barry tells Robbie when he misses, wiping the wrong side.
"Thanks, babe," Robbie says sweetly, more sweeter than the acknowledgement Anthony got.
"So, don't you boys have classes?"
"I do," Barry says, getting a quick kiss off Robbie before splitting.
"Um, my psych class was cancelled, so I figured I could do some practicing?" Robbie asks as Anthony takes flight from mid-hallway to his office.
No sooner does Anthony get to his office, there's a knock at the open door behind himself and Robbie.
"Hey Anthony, I thought you would like to have this?"
Big and burly, the Applegate tee shirt tightly formed over his pecs, sleeves filled tightly with his biceps, the muscleman stands there, a foot on the bottom rung of a dolly, hands bracing it from keeling over as it holds a three drawer filing cabinet.
"Hi Coach Dekker," Robbie addresses the wrestling coach. "Need a hand with that?"
"Nah. Just show me where you want it Anthony?"
Seeing he wasn't needed, Robbie slipped the pool keys from the hook above Anthony's desk and headed off towards the lockerroom.
Rolling the dolly into Anthony's office, Trevor makes comment, "Real shame. Nice beefy-looking guy like him, going to waste."
"And what would be the problem with Robbie, Trevor?"
"Nothing. I'm just saying with a couple of hours of weights and cardio, he'd make a fine wrestler," Trevor replies, uprighting the filing cabinet in the middle of the office floor.
"Last time I counted, you had enough wrestlers for a team and a half?"
"Still, put some abs on that boy and he could knock'em dead at competition. That's all I'm saying Anthony."
"I think Robbie is very satisfied with swimming. Besides, I've never seen a guy do a faster flipturn. Sure, he doesn't hit the weight room too often, but seems to maintain perfect muscle balance, something we all wish we could achieve without working out seven days a week," Anthony relayed to his colleague.
"Still... All in all Anthony, I think we can both agree Sinclair's a hot looking stud horse. Some weights could add alot of definition to his image... that's all I'm saying."
"Yeah. Later, Trev," Anthony said, as Dekker left his office, wheeling the dolly in front of him like a toy.
Two things crossed his mind, as he approached the filing cabinet. One, a thought of who held the reins in Robbie's relationship with Barry and two regarding who the `stud horse' of the relationship really is. Two, was his colleague looking to get bred? He smiled when he thought it.
"Hey coach?"
Turning around, Anthony smiled, putting two and two together, Dekker's opinion and the sight of Robbie standing there, towel around his neck, speedo clinging to his torso, sockless sneakers on his feet. "What's up? You got the key right?" He asks.
"Yeah, but something's wrong with my locker." Holding up the innards to the tumbler, Robbie informs him, "I got into it okay, but it's locking it up that's the problem."
"Hmm... Where's your stuff now?"
"No problem. I left my clothes in Barry's locker for now, but I just thought you would like to know. No hurry in getting it fixed."
"I'm sure!"
Taking the metal cylinder from Robbie, Anthony tossed it on the desk. Before attending to the problem, he decided to check out the Track teams' `x-files'. "Oh, Robbie," he tried to catch the swimmer. He was already out of earshot, so Anthony returned back to his office, hoping he would leave the door to the pool unlocked, being it was the only key he had. His team members also knew it was tabu to practice diving when at swim practice alone, with the door locked. Once more he returned to the file cabinet, dusting the top off with wind from deep inside his lungs. He coughed, waving his hand as particles became airborn. He said to himself, outloud, "Geesh! I hope the inside is cleaner than the outside!"
"Hey there coach. Need some light housekeeping?"
Thinking he's heard that voice before, Anthony quickly sped around, facing the door. "Oh hi there Yousef."
"Jayab, or Jay. Yousef is the last name."
"Oh right. Sorry `bout that, Jayab."
"No problem, coach."
"Uh," Anthony switched his attention back to the filing cabinet, "sure it could use some dusting, but more important I need to find a home for it in this room," he responded to the tall mideastern college sophomore.
Slinging his backpack from his shoulder with little hassle, Anthony watched it being tossed to his chair, making a thud like it contained bricks. Walking up to the side of the filing cabinet, sitting in the middle of the floor, Jayab reached down to the second drawer, squatting slightly, lifting it off the floor as he hugged it to his chest. "Where do you want it, coach?"
Anthony could feel his eyes wide open, after being marveled by Jayab's strength, the piece of office furniture Trevor had unloaded from the dolly not more than ten minutes ago. "Careful. Watch your back Jayab," Anthony cautioned.
"No sweat," Jayab replied, a grin on his face. "It's a piece of cake."
Glancing over the top of the file cabinet, again Anthony was mesmerized by the outline of Jayab's tank top, reflecting what could be a full chest of dark, curly hair. He wondered how far down it extended. Suddenly he developed a thirst as beads of sweat broke out on Jayab's shoulders.
"I don't have a place for it right now."
"Hmm," Jayab hummed, looking from side to side. "I think I've solved your problem coach."
Watching, Anthony followed Jayab set the filing cabinet down, walk over to the wall, pull the cube fridge away, disconnect the plug, pulling it out from it's place against the wall.
"It can't block the doorway to the jon," Anthony clued Jayab in, seeing the cabinet would fill in the space.
Another hum, Jayab thought about it, with an instant reply, "It'll fit."
"You need a hand?" Anthony asked, seeing Jayab once again pick up the entire cabinet and haul it towards the back corner of the office.
As he did, his back facing Anthony, he noticed the tank top had hiked up a bit, showing off Jayab's hairy lower back. The black hair against the tanned skin made his mouth water. Then again he had conflicting thoughts when Jayab set the cabinet down, bending over to press it into place, sandwiched in between the wall and a large two-door utility closet. He smiled when Jayab's gym shorts made his ass well rounded, as he bent down to pick up the cube fridge.
"Watch it now," Anthony switched thoughts, thinking of Jayab overdoing it.
"Got it," Jayab said as he heaved-ho and placed the cube on top of the filing cabinet.
"Look okay?" Jayab said, turning, wiping hands off on his white tank top, already showing a little moisture.
"Fine," Anthony replied with a smile, adding, "Thanks."
"No sweat, Coach Torricelli." Thinking about it, he asks, "Mind if I cool off in the pool?"
"Well actually," he started and stopped, thinking about Robbie being in the pool, in regards to only swim team members practicing when unsupervised.
"I peeked in and saw one of your swim team members practicing. But I thought I would ask being doing. I know you have rules."
Looking three inches above his own height, at six foot three, Anthony took a quick glance when Jayab lifted his shirt to wipe his brow. It might have played a part in swaying his answer, bending the rules and allowing Jay to take a cooling dip. He wondered how the stomach trail looked, swirling over Jay's navel, when dry.
"I believe I have an extra swim suit that may fit you," Anthony headed towards the supply closet, flinging open both doors. In seconds he produced a red speedo. "Check this one out."
"Not much to it," Jayab said, holding it between his finger and thumb. "But I like it!"
Anthony was about to lead him to the lockerroom, but Jayab said, "No sweat, coach. I can change right here!"
As much as Anthony would not have minded it one bit, he still had his code of ethics, plus wondering what he would say if any of his colleagues happened by. It's all he needed, having Trevor Dekker trying to `convert' Jayab to a wrestler.
"Um, remember those rules?"
"Rules?" Jayab questioned, holding his tank top on his right arm, readying to strip it off completely.
With the full picture of Jayab's hairy bod on his mind, pecs swarming with the black fibers, the strip dividing his endless abs, swirling around the deep bellyhole, Anthony found it hard to remember the rules. Knowing he did it himself, he made himself the exemption, telling Jayab, "All changing is done in the lockerrooms?"
"Sure. I get it coach. No problem. I'm not out to make any problem for anybody."
"Ah... yes, well thank you for saying so," Anthony replied, smiling as he closed his office door to the `ass-kisser'.
Sitting down at his desk, he shook his head, smiling on the inside. Of course, maybe his intuition was wrong, but he thought he had Jayab pegged. After sticking the letter opener in the first piece of mail, he thought about the files. "Oh yes," Anthony said our loud, excusing himself away from his desk. Going to pull the top draw open, he almost pulled his arm out of whack when it didn't budge. Standing back, he laughed at himself for not realizing it was locked. It dawned on him Trevor didn't leave a key.
"Hi coach!" the happy face greeted him as he opened the door.
Being the guy on the other end of the smily face courted Edwin Barredo next to him, he knew right away who the `other' twin was. "Something I can do for you Larry?"
Bestowing the good news, Larry says, "Edwin has transferred from Greenville. Today's his first day at classes!"
Both college guys had smiles on their faces, one showing Larry expecting an instant shoo-in for Edwin.
"I see," Anthony replied, slipping outside his office, closing the door behind him.
Walking beside Anthony, Edwin lagging behind a footstep, Larry suggests, "So maybe he can join the swim team?"
"Look Larry... Edwin, I..."
Stopping, facing the teens, Larry thought it a bit of doubt in his coach's mind of Edwin's abilities. "You saw for yourself what a good diver Edwin is, at the party. Remember?"
In order not to commit himself at this time, Anthony made excuse, "I don't rightly recall paying particular attention."
"Oh," Larry said, Edwin dropping happy as well.
Knowing the ranks of swimmers had been up to maximum, he stood there in momentary silence along with the duo, til it hit him. "How about the track'n'field team?" As far as he knew, there were only five individuals. Not enough to constitute a team.
Shrugging his shoulders and as if looking to Larry for approval, Edwin says, "I guess I could try."
Anthony was so relieved to see Larry's spirits lift, a smile clinging to his lips as he said, "Yeah. Cool! Could be okay."
With all parties sort of sold on the idea, Edwin whipped out his planner and scribbled in `3:00 track - Coach Torricelli's office'. "Cool coach. Thanks!" Edwin replied, perhaps carried along on Larry's excitement as well.
As they walked in different directions, Anthony grinned when he heard Larry cautioning Edwin, "Watch out, `cause I hear some of those track-guys are hot looking, especially the Arabian... hey, look!"
Anthony turned quickly to see Larry and Edwin, eyes glued to the glass entry door separating hallway and pool. Turning the corner, Anthony made a mental note to have the retaining rod on the door fixed to keep it from slamming, filing it next to Robbie's locker tumbler. A few feet down the hall he remembered his original quest, finding Trevor for the whereabouts of the filing cabinet key. Pushing through the door to the downstairs wrestling room, he found his face squished up against it. Selfconscious, Anthony looked bothways to see if anybody saw, same time hand in pocket to look for his set of keys. Finding the brass door opener, he keyed the lock, opening it. This time he made sure it opened before entering! Opening the door at the bottom of the stairway, he found himself entering the wrestling room, sneakers pumping air out of the mattresses as he tread across the room. "I wonder," Anthony said, passing by the two rings hanging from the ceiling. Grabbing hold, he pressed his arms down, body up, staying in place a short duration of half a minute. "Whew! Am I out of shape!" he chuckled to himself. After tucking his Applegate polo shirt back into his pants, he continued on course to find Coach Dekker. A few feet onwards, Anthony stopped to listen. "Nah," he said to himself when he thought he heard what he thought. However, as he moved closer and closer to Trevor Dekker's office, it was unmistakable. He had heard and still heard groaning sounds, plus a slamming sound as if somebody was pounding against a desk. It was an indistinquishable sound, one Anthony's heard before, especially when he had been in the action behind Roberto, pumping his cock deep within his lover's ass canal. Stopping, he rubbed the side of his face, a dilemma of whether to make an about face or continue on his way for the quest of the key. He took a step forwards, then thinking it none of his business, made an about face, almost tripping on the mat. Something must've jarred his mind, when he recovered from his pushup action off the mat, having caught himself, thinking to himself, Being head coach, it is' my business!' Part of his decision to pursue could have been his curiosity of who was doing what to whom! The door ajar, blocking the visual, Anthony made this his last stand as to whether to interfere. Another thought, he was hoping Trevor wasn't on either end of the giving and receiving. `Rats' he thought when the door didn't make as much as a creek when opened. Shocking him out of his gourd, even though he was prepared in his mind to find the wrestling coach one of the participants, he was equally shocked by the other. "Dean Harriot?"
Both men in the buff, sweatier than a runner out in a hundred and ten degree weather, Trevor lay there in legs-up position, Alton Harriot III standing, using Dekker's legs as leverage to work his cock in and out, which stayed in the `in' when he stopped momentaryily. Nonchalantly, Harriot says, "Feeling horny Anthony? Whip your dick out and take advantage why don't you?"
As Harriot resumed his fucking, Anthony, perhaps feeling a bit horny, began wandering into the room.
"Shut the door," Harriot gave the instruction, Anthony looking at the door then proceeding to shut it, his hand still attached to the knob, keeping his attention glued to the pitcher and catcher, ignoring the door. "Might as well take advantage of some hot porn," Harriot coaxed him on.
Anthony couldn't deny he wasn't feeling horny after the gracious invitation, especially as he walked into the depths of the room, til he stood about the same distance from Harriot, at Dekker's side. He began to form some opinions already when Dekker offered himself up as if a sacrifice to a god, "C'mon Anthony. Knock yourself out. Jump up on my chest and feed me your cock!"
It was tempting. As has happened in the past few months, Anthony has had mixed reaction to the bdsm, most of the time being on the receiving side. When stepping out of that character, his yearning to park his cock in another guy's mouth or ass has been on the rise. Yes it was very tempting, a strange desire coming over him to `own' his colleague.
"All the way in!" Harriot called out as Dekker made a final gesture of his ass being invaded, moaning out loudly.
The sounds of giver and taker suddenly too interested in seeing the size of the battering ram assaulting Trevor's ass. In reaction, he bent to the side, himself touching Trevor's left leg, pulling it forwards to get a good view.
Laughing his ass off, the forty-one year old Dean of Students, says, "You know what they say, `the more you stretch, the more you can fit in'!"
"Sure, Dean. Whatever you say," Anthony agrees, a slight smile painting his lips. "Oh shit!" he yells, startled by a hand reaching, groping at his privates.
With a hardy laugh, Harriot says, "I don't know which way you bend, Anthony," meaning top or bottom, "but how about you squeezing your dick in here next to mine. I know he'd," Trevor, "love it!"
"I think I'll pass. Maybe next time," Anthony replies, though certain there wouldn't be a next time if he can help it. However, he felt a little embarrassed, Dean Harriot finding him hard as a rock. But back to business, Anthony finally sets forth the reason for his arriving at this unprecarious moment in time, "Um, I was looking for... um the key to the filing cabinet, um Trevor?"
"Hold it a sec Anthony," Dean Harriot exclaims, "We're almost there."
"Uh, sure," Anthony said, moving back towards the door. "Um, I'll see you later... about the key... Trevor." He had a strong feeling he wasn't being paid any attention to, the two going at it at the height of their sexual arousal. As he closed the door behind him, he stopped, smiled upon hearing the two scream their lungs out in ecstasy. If Anthony bothered to hang around he probably would have the impact, Dean Harriot's chest slamming down between Dekker's out-spread legs. He wasn't sure, standing far away from the office door, his hands up, slapping against the rings as he made his exit, hearing something loud and thuddy'. As he walked to the door at the bottom of the stairs, Anthony tried like hell to will' his erection to dissolve, but it wasn't complying. Looking around for an out'. Finding no solution, he closed the door behind him and waited at the bottom of the stairway for the duration. He couldn't control his thoughts, thinking about nothing, as opposed to what he just witnessed in the office. Minutes passed and he said to himself, half-audibly, oh shit!' when the door opened.
"What have we here?"
Anthony made no reply, except a meek, "Um..."
"Can't make it go down, Anthony? No problem. Why don't you take your little `problem' to Dekker? You know he's a real cum guzzler?"
"Um, no. I had... no idea," is all Anthony could think up.
"I understand you're partnered?"
"Yes."
As if idle talk, Dean Harriot says, "Well if you're ever at work and get the urge, Dekker makes a nice hard fuck. He really knows how to hold on to a cock!"
Fortunately, Dean Harriot said he had work to attend to, good for Anthony who just wanted to get his cock back to normal and back to his own work.
Second man to confront him, Trevor Dekker handled the knob of the downstairs door leading to the wrestling room. "Still here? Oh yes.. the key... the key... in my office, I believe."
When Dekker held the door, Anthony said, "I'll wait here thank you."
"I'm not gonna like jump you or anything," the twenty-nine year old coach told Anthony.
He could have replied something simple, like `just the same I'll wait here', but maybe his curiosity got the best of him, Anthony saying, "I hear you're a cum guzzler." Then, maybe seeing it his job as head coach to make sure the staff's integrity is not compromised, "I suppose you have the wrestling team line up?"
Instead of hauling off and busting Anthony's chops, Trevor replies, "You know Anthony, I might be dumb but I'm not stupid!"
"Yeah well, being head coach around here I..."
"I know," Trevor says, leading Anthony to his office, "you have to be sure. You wouldn't want to have Applegate's good name disgraced."
"Exactly," Anthony replied, also thinking of anyone else involved in Applegate's sports program.
"Sorry. I should have brought it up with the cabinet," Trevor said, handing the key to Anthony.
Even though Dekker swore disinvolvement with students when it came to sexual matters, it lingered on the tip of Anthony's tongue to ask, "So you think Robbie Sinclair would make a good wrestler, huh?"
Reading right to the core of Anthony's questioning, Dekker replies, "I told you. I don't mess with students."
"Sorry. I..."
"I know. You have to have it clear in your mind."
With one more odd question on his mind, Anthony figured he'd leave in good humor, asking, "And besides Dean Harriot?"
Smiling, Dekker reported, "I've had a few tasty ones!"
As Anthony left Dekker's office, Trevor offered once more, "I can take care of that you know?"
Groping himself, Anthony said he'd stop at the mens room on the way.
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2B continued...
Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection without prior written permission, by the author.
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The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....