Tumbleweed Connections 02
Looks like I have a few readers already.
This story is fiction. Basically. It'll have gay sex in it, so leave if you don't like that. Also, leave if you're under 18. You shouldn't be here.
Yeah, you too. The kid hiding in the corner. I know that's a fake ID you're flashing. I'm gonna tell my story now and when I finish I'm coming back here to check. You'd better be gone.
Tumbleweed Connections, Chapter Two
I'd only been home for an hour or so when I heard a knock.. Jared flashed me an uneasy smile as I opened the door. "Hey, Coach."
I took a sharp, silent breath in, and stood wordless at the door for too long; the visuals had sucked the power of speech right out of me.
Form-gripping blue jeans, black Benson High School Cougars t-shirt, and, of course, boots. His eyes met mine briefly, then shifted to the ground and back up. I shook off the daze I'd gone into, looking at him, realizing he was waiting for me to invite him in.
"Come on in, Watts," I said, opening the door and motioning him into the living room. "Can I get you a Coke or something?"
He sat down on my couch and said, "Coach, you got a beer in the fridge?"
I smiled. "Well, yeah, Jared, but there's a little problem there, and I think you know what it is."
He looked up at me and said, "I'm eighteen, Coach, and you damn well know I've had plenty of beer. Didn't you drink when you were in high school?"
"Yeah, I did," I said. "But the football coaches weren't the ones passing out the beers. I guess they knew they could lose their jobs like that."
He shrugged. "Who would know? I'd never say anything to get you in trouble, Coach, and to tell the truth, I could probably use at least a couple to get my courage up for this. I promise I'll never tell anyone."
I went to the kitchen, reached into the fridge, and grabbed two Bud longnecks. "Okay," I said, handing him one. I sat down in the love seat, facing him. "But I'm trusting you here. Don't make me regret it."
He stared at me intently and said, "Well, I guess that makes us kind of even." He squeezed the bottle between his two hands and stared at it for a minute, then raised it to his lips and took several long, hard swallows.
He looked at me and said, "I'm gonna just cut right to it, okay? This is bugging the shit out of me and if I don't have someone to talk to, I...I don't know what I'm gonna do, Coach."
I looked him over as he sat there. He looked so nervous. Poor kid, I thought. Been there; I know what it feels like. "Let me make this easier for you, Watts," I said "I guess based on our conversation in the summer, you're asking some questions about your sexuality. I don't know how much help I can be, but it's like I told you; it doesn't bother me. You're safe here, and you can say what you need to."
"Thanks," he said. He paused for a moment, then said, "Coach, I need to ask you some personal questions too, if you're gonna help me. Can you trust me enough to answer them?"
It was my turn to hesitate. "I guess," I said; "or at least you can ask, and if I don't feel comfortable answering, I'll tell you. So go ahead."
That seemed to relax him. "Okay. Let me just start in, then. Do you know why I chose you to talk to about this?"
"No," I said.
"Well, please don't get mad at what I'm about to say," he continued, "but I noticed something. Coach, I never really thought about guys until sophomore year or so. Then I started noticing them in the locker room. Guys that I'd hung with for years and never thought that way about. I started thinking about their chests, the way their butts and abs looked, their...uhh, their...their dicks." He blushed a deep red. "I have to be careful in the locker room not to get caught staring. Nobody has a clue about me. I feel like such a fucking freak show, but at least nobody knows."
"You're not a freak show, Watts," I said. "You seem like the rest of your buds. Good player; good work ethic; lotta heart. You have a good build and a masculine look to your face. You're not a freak show."
"I know," he said. "But it feels weird carrying around these feelings I can't tell anyone about. Thing is, though, I like girls too. That's what's got me so messed up. Sometimes I wonder if I'm gay, but the girls make me hard too. I've had lots of dates and lots of girlfriends. I never had sex; well, not like fucking. I've had blow jobs. And I wanna get laid so bad I can't stand it. I got close once; but no dice. I had to go home and, well, you know."
"I get the picture," I grinned.
"I know you have a girlfriend," he said. "I seen her picture in your office. She's real pretty. Then one day after practice I was coming out of the shower and you were walking out of your office. You were walking pretty quick, but...well, you were kind of looking over the boys, and...I mean, it wasn't all obvious or anything, you were just on your way somewhere. But it reminded me of the way I look around at the guys, you know, like trying to make sure I don't stare. And so I guess...I guess I had this thought that maybe...maybe you might understand in a more personal way. Coach, do you...do you look at guys the way I do?"
Somewhere in all his words I'd forgotten to breathe. I stared at him, frozen, trying to decide what to say, whether to tell the truth, trying to anticipate the effect my words, whatever they were, might have on him. If you lie to him, he'll know it, I thought, and you'll damage some pretty important trust.
I took a deep breath, looked him in the eyes, and said, "Yeah, Jared, I'm attracted to guys too."
He closed his eyes and smiled. I watched his whole body relax. "Thank you for telling me. I swear I'll never tell. I just feel like I'm the only person on the planet like this. Coach, do you think you're gay?"
I shook my head. "No, Jared. I guess I'm what they call 'bi.'"
"Bi?"
I took a swig of my beer. "Yeah. You know, bisexual."
He looked at me, a puzzled expression on his face.
"What, you never heard of that?"
"Yeah, I have, I guess," he said. "I just never thought about it any." He was quiet for a moment. "I guess that's what I am."
"There's a guy on JV who's gay," he said. "I'm not gonna tell you who he is, because I don't wanna out him. We've done some stuff together. He says he's gay. He's been my friend for a long time and we're pretty tight, but he's just a good friend."
He paused. "But here's the thing, Coach. There's this other guy. And we've gotten to be pretty good friends. He's on the team. Varsity, I mean. And I don't know how it happened but it's like he came in and took over a piece of my head, or a piece of my heart, or something. And it's fucking me up so much. I can't tell him; I don't know if he'd hate me."
"Can you tell me who it is?" I asked.
"Yeah, I guess," he said. "It's Josh Daniels."
I smiled. "You have good taste in guys."
He nodded.. "Yeah. But I didn't come here to tell you about that shit. I'll deal with it. I just came to ask you if you knew what it felt like. That's all, really. I don't need you to tell me what to do. I just needed to know if I was right about you. And it feels good to know somebody else who likes both. You know, bisexual. That must be me."
I went back to the kitchen and brought us each one more beer. One more wouldn't hurt.
The conversation shifted to other topics. I noticed that Jared's demeanor and his whole body language had changed. The uncertainty was gone, and he seemed much more confident.
Pretty soon the topic drifted back to sex. But his stumbling, hesitating speech was gone and so was the insecure body language he'd started the evening with. What I now saw before me was the confident jock I usually saw when I looked at him.
Considering he'd told me so much about himself, I wasn't surprised by the next question. "Coach...did you ever do anything with another guy?"
I paused for a second, then said,"Yeah."
"More than once?"
I nodded.
He looked at me for a minute, then his eyes got wide. "Was it with Ryan? The guy you said was your best friend?"
"Yeah, it was," I said.
"Awesome," he replied.
We sat quietly for a while, and then the conversation drifted back to the football season. I was glad for the distraction, because all this talk about sex had gotten me pretty turned on. And I hadn't had a sex partner besides my right hand in weeks. So it was a relief as we talked about our chances this year; about the quarterback; about the town's football mania.
The conversation lulled once again. After a few moments Jared said, "Coach, I've always thought you were really hot."
"Jared," I said, feeling my face flush and my dick stiffen, "we don't need to be going here."
"No, really, Coach," he said. "I mean it. And what's wrong with going there?"
"Only about a million things," I said. "You're a student. I'm a coach. It's fucked up."
"That's just job descriptions," he said. "What if we had bumped into each other in a different situation? Would you say it was wrong for an eighteen-year-old guy who's into guys to compliment a twenty-four-year-old guy who was into guys?"
"No, I said. "But that's not who we are."
"Coach," he said, "Do you think I'm good-looking?"
Damn. This kid wouldn't let up. "Yeah, I do. You know you're good-looking."
"Have you ever thought about...doing stuff with me?"
"That's enough, Jared," I said. "I think we better change the subject." My heart wasn't much in my words, though.
He drained the last of his second beer. "I prolly oughta go," he said. "I want you to do something for me before I go."
I didn't like the sound of that. "What is it?" I asked.
He said, "You've seen me naked."
"So?"
"Well," he said, "it's only fair I oughta get to see you naked. You been really good to me tonight. I feel a lot better. But you have to admit it's not fair. You've gotten to see me naked. Maybe you've thought about doing stuff with me. Fantasizing and all that. I've thought about you like that; but I never saw you naked. You owe it to me."
"I don't owe you shit, boy," I said. I was already snared, though. "But if it'll make you get the fuck outta here, okay, I'll get naked for you." Damn, is this stupid, the thinking part of my brain was telling me.
Go fuck yourself, my dick said back to that part.
I stood up, pulled my t-shirt over my head and tossed it on the love seat. I walked over to him and flexed a little, grinning.
His eyes roamed over my chest; I noticed him groping his package, absently. He stood up, looked at me, and said, "Man, you're really in good shape. Do you still work out?"
"Yep," I said.
He reached out and put a hand on my chest, exploring my pecs, my abs.
"I don't know if that was in the deal," I said.
"Just appreciating the work you've put in," he said.
I reached for my belt to go the next step. "Wait--let me do that," he said.
I would have protested, but he'd already dropped to his knees and grabbed my belt. With his head level at my midsection, he slowly unbuckled the belt, pulled it off, and let it fall to the floor.
He looked up at me and grinned. I couldn't help but smile back. "Just fuckin' do it and quit smirking, boy," I said.
He unbuttoned the top of my jeans, zipped down the fly, and began pulling them down my legs. I stepped out of them, and watched his eyes as they moved from my head down to my feet.
"God, Coach, you're so hot," he said, adjusting his crotch.
He knelt down next to me again, and put his hands on my legs and stroked them, moving down from the thighs toward the calves and back up again. "Your lower body routines are working good too."
"Can we get this over with?" I said, trying to sound irritated.
"From the look of this big boy," he said, stroking my package through my boxer briefs, "I'm thinkin' it's not bothering you much." He grinned wickedly, and in one brisk move, the shorts were down around my ankles. My dick was pointing at the ceiling.
He stood, and backed up a little to look at me. Now it was his turn to forget to breathe.
"You're uncut," he said in awe. "I've never seen an uncut guy before." My foreskin doesn't fully retract on its own when I'm hard, so it's not difficult to tell even then. "Can I touch it?"
I sighed. "Jared...this was not a part of the agreement, kid. We're startin' something here that's not cool, not cool at all." In spite of my words, though, I continued to stand there, watching him stare.
I guess he took my lack of movement as consent. He walked back over to me and knelt down in front of me again. He reached out and gently took hold of my dick, running his fingers gently up and down it, occasionally stroking my balls. He sent shivers through my body. Finally he asked, "Can I pull the foreskin back? Will that hurt?"
"Go ahead," I said. "Just be gentle."
He pulled my dick toward him , grasped me carefully at the head of my dick, and slowly slid the foreskin back, then up over the head of my dick, then back and up again. Then he placed a finger in between the foreskin and the head of my dick, and ran it around the circumference. "That is so fuckin' cool," he said. He dabbed a finger in the precum pooled at the tip of my dick, and put his finger to his lips. He licked his lips, tasting the sticky goo.
Then, sliding my foreskin back again, without warning, he put his tongue to the tip of my dick, lapped up the precum, then wrapped his lips around the head of my dick!
"Shit," I muttered.
He took more of my dick into his mouth, and before I knew it he was giving me a first-class head job. I moaned and put my hands on his head, holding him steady and stroking his head as I began to fuck his face. As he sucked me, one hand gently caressed my balls, which drove me crazy with lust.
Every now and then he'd ease off, look up at me and smile. The first time he stopped, he looked up and said, "Does it feel good?"
"God, yes," I panted. He put my dick back in his mouth and continued.
As I got closer to the edge, he put his hands on my ass as he sucked me. For a guy who didn't have a lot of experience, he had good instincts. I was as turned on as I'd ever been. "Back off, Jared," I said. "I'm almost there, man."
Of course he didn't. And by that point I was too far gone to stop. Fucking his face furiously, my muscles tensed up, my breath turned ragged and fast. "Oh, fuck," I groaned, and my dick pumped a load of jizz into his mouth. He kept my dick in his mouth the whole time, swallowing as much as he could. Some of my cum was leaking from the corners of his mouth, though.
Finally my dicked stopped spasming. Jared's tongue was still working my dick but it had gotten too sensitive. I pulled myself out of his mouth and laughed. He looked up at me and grinned big. I pulled him to a stand, pulled him into me and kissed him lightly on the lips. I started to pull away, but he began grinding his crotch into mine.
I thought for a moment. Hell, I'd already crossed too many lines. In for a dime, in for a dollar. I reached for his belt and loosened it. He looked at me in shock and delight. Kneeling down in front of him as he'd done earlier, I eased his pants and shorts down around his knees.
His dick was beautiful. Probably about seven inches long, it stuck straight out from his body. It was the perfect thickness, and had a beautiful prominent head on it. He was leaking something awful, too. His balls were large and hung loosely in their smooth sack. I felt my dick stir again.
I wrapped a hand around his dick, licked the precum off the tip, and started sucking him. The smell of his equipment had me on fire. It was a mixture of the soap he'd used and the masculine, musky scent of a young stud's sexuality. Turned on beyond belief, I worked his dick with my mouth and tongue with all the ability I had. I wanted to give back to him the intense physical feelings he'd just given me.
He literally shouted in surprise and pleasure when I deep-throated him. I put my hands on his ass and began pulling him deep into my mouth, slamming his pubes into my nose with each thrust. He got the hint and began humping my mouth, thrusting all the way to the hilt as I swallowed him whole with each thrust.
Finally he pulled my face into his pubes, moaned, and began shooting his juice down my throat. I pulled his dick out of my throat and into my mouth, so I could taste some of the cum as it squirted out the head of his dick. I kept working him until he was finished. I stood up to give him a hug; he pulled my face to his, kissed me, and then, opening his mouth and placing it hard against mine, stuck his tongue into my mouth and began French-kissing me as passionately as any woman had ever kissed me. My dick was back to full attention and dying for release. As he broke our embrace and collapsed on my couch, I sat down next to him and started to bring myself off; but he pushed my hand away, reached out, and jacked me off himself. It only took about thirty seconds, and I dumped another load, this time all over his hand. He licked it all off with his tongue, and laughed like a maniac.
After we'd recovered a little, we got dressed. I was feeling pretty lousy that I'd done this. But as he got up to go he walked over to me, gave me a hug, and said, "Thanks, Coach. You're okay. I promise I'll never tell a fuckin' soul about this. And you're my coach; this won't mess me up on the field either. It's all business between us. I'm just one of the team."
"I'll hold you to that," I said. Now that I'd cum--twice--I was starting to feel tremendously guilty; but I wasn't going to risk fucking his head up by laying that on him.
As he turned to leave, I said, "Jared, if you ever do end up being able to have something with Josh...well, you don't have a thing to worry about in the sex department."
He blushed and walked to the door. "See you at school," he said as he stepped out into the west Texas wind.