Working with My Star Wrestler Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)
NOTE: The following contains graphic depictions of sex between men, some of it forceful and only semi-consensual. If this offends you or is not appropriate for your age, read no further. Otherwise, let me know if this pushes your buttons: billdrake@hotmail.com.
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Working with My Star Wrestler
Fifth period was over and so was my last history class of the day. I packed away my books and papers, locked my desk, grabbed my gym bag and headed off to the locker room. For three years now I'd been the wrestling coach at Columbus High School. Started right after graduating from the state university, where I'd attending on a wrestling scholarship. Now, at 25, I was living in small-town Texas and teaching history and coaching at the local high school. I loved it, it was great working with young, growing adults, and it helped that I had a wonderful team - contenders for state playoffs year after year, as well as being just a bunch of great kids.
I took off my tie and removed my dress shirt and slacks. Looking down at my boxer shorts I realized that I had a throbbing hardon trapped in them and that the front of the cloth was dotted with many precum stains from my constant leaking that day. Lately it had seemed that my wife was too busy and too tired for sex. She was a career woman who worked long hours in a local law firm. My college wrestling buddies never understood why I didn't go after a sorority type girl, and even joked about me liking Mrs. Robinson, since Allison was three years older than me. But my wife was a wonderful person with a great bod. What's more, she loved it when I fucked her. All the time we were dating we could never get enough sex. We always cut classes just to go at it all afternoon. And while other woman tended to shy away from a dick my size (9 good, fat inches, and I mean really fat), Allison seemed to love cock. Loved to suck it, loved to get fucked by it. Only now it's weeks between fucks. I half wondered if Allison was having an affair with Tim Harris, the lawyer in her office who's well-groomed yet built like a linebacker.
Or maybe that was just my erotic imagination getting away from me. See, since high school I've been aware that I have strong desires for other, stud-built men. I've considered myself mostly straight, so haven't indulged these desires, but over time, they've popped up stronger and stronger. At first, I thought a trip or two to a bookstore glory hole would satisfy them. But I kept thinking about men. Big, butch, hung men with dripping cocks and nice, smooth bubble butts. And the boys on the wrestling team. I watched their hard, young jock bodies as they showered and sized up their teen dicks that swayed as they walked in the locker room. And unlike the football jocks, who sometimes had saggy butts, the wrestlers all had nice, firm asses that stood nice and high and practically begged to be fucked.
To be honest with myself, that's why I had such a huge, aching hardon sixth period. My team. In particular my star wrestler, Matt Connors. This kid was pure perfection. Just turned 18 years old in September and had the body of a college stud. He played football as well, and had the body to show for it - big, broad-shouldered and beefy, even if he didn't bulk up like the rest of the football team and jogged relentlessly during wrestling season to keep his body fat low and his weight within his competition bracket. And for a footballer, he was short at 5'10", my height as well. No matter, this guy was light years ahead in body development compared to most high school kids.
He seemed precocious in other ways too. His front was coated in blonde hair that almost hid his flawless torso and washboard abs. I tended to like smooth guys, but something about that incredible blonde pelt turned me on. And seeing the thick layer of pale stubble that appeared when he hadn't shaved was enough to make my dick leak extra fuck lube.
I peeled off my boxers and stared at the throbbing hardon. I grabbed the dripping cock. It took all my willpower not to stroke it off right there in my office abutting the lockerroom. Didn't have time for that. Bending down I searched through my gym bag for my jockstrap. Damn, I could feel the cool air-conditioned air tickling my asshole and low-hanging balls. Felt fine. I stepped into the straps and pulled the jock on. The pouch gripped my genitals snugly. Well, the hardon didn't exactly fit, and stuck up a good three or four inches above the waist band. Couldn't wait for the fucker to go down, I just pulled on my nylon coach shorts over the protuberance and tucked my T-shirt in to try to cover it. It was practice time already.
That Tuesday I really worked the boys. The next meet was the upcoming weekend, and I tended to go easy on them a couple days before, so as not to wear their muscles out. So it was necessary to get a good, hard practice in the first half of the week. All of the guys were doing better, in fact their performance had improved consistently over the season, even week by week. Even still, Connors surpassed my expectations. He was top wrestling material. A lot of high school wrestlers think it's simply the matter of strength and agility and getting in the right weight class. Yeah, that matters, but Matt understood something more; that wrestling was about what goes on in your mind. Learning what your opponent does, getting into his head, reacting to his moves before he makes them.
Connors was doing so well in fact, he easily outmatched the other athletes on the team. I paired him up a couple times, but after a few quick pins, I realized neither the star nor his teammates were getting much out of it. I pulled Matt aside and wrapping my arm around him, spoke in a low voice so that other guys on the team couldn't hear.
"Great job, today, Connors."
"Thanks, Coach. What's up? Anything wrong with what I'm doing?"
"Not a thing, champ. Only I think you've outmatched these other guys. I'm gonna hold off pairing you with the others today, but if you can stick around after practice, we can pair up and work on your form then."
"Sure, no problem, Coach. Thanks." That perfect suppliant smile beamed back at me. God, this kid knew how to make me horny without even thinking about it. Encouragingly, I patted his back, then parted from the close proximity I shared with the stud jock's magnificent body to join the rest. The exercises went much better afterward. The other wrestlers weren't bad at all - the whole season so far they'd given their all and had come a long way. They may not be college varsity material like Connors was, but watching them pair off in takedown after takedown, I knew that our team would be one to reckon with statewide this year.
It was about five o'clock when I dismissed the boys for the afternoon. They were all tired and grumbling, but I could tell they were satisfied with the tougher than normal practice. I saw a couple of the young men flexing their muscles and admiring the "pump" that filled them out.
I turned to Matt, who got up off the gym bleacher where he was sitting. God, that angelic face! He'd been sitting there for the last couple of hours in what must have been sheer boredom, yet the kid still wore a smile and a look of eagerness on his face.
"Thanks for waiting, Connors," I said. "Sorry to make you stay late."
"No prob, Coach. The one-on-one practice will do me good anyhow. One thing, though..."
"Yeah?"
"My car's in the shop now, and I was gonna get a ride home from Schmidt. Could you drop me off when we're done?"
"Sure, Connors... Now, ready to hit the mat?"
"You bet, Coach."
For the next hour and a half I really ran Connors through the paces. I used a practice technique a college coach had shown me. I started off with easy holds. I could read Matt's face. He wondered why were doing this easy shit. After the first two, I could see his eyebrows furrow, as if he were about to challenge me, to speak up. I cut him off at the pass, quickly starting another takedown the second we were both on our feet. Then again. Our bodies pounded together on the mat and we locked ourselves in each other's grip. I was going easy on the guy, and let him pin me a few times. But I kept up the pace, starting fall after fall in rapid succession. Of course, the tournament would never be anything like this, but the point was to teach focus.
I started to put more strength and determination into my moves now, and Connors was really struggling. The kid was almost in tears he was so frustrated by being knocked off his game so easily. I locked my steely gaze with his pleading eyes and held it. A brief nod reassured my athlete, told him that this was what was supposed to be happening. He got it now. A smile flashed over his face, then was replaced by a rigid look of athletic determination. We locked again, our arms gripping around each other's strong backs, pulling each other to the mat, then jockeying for top position. I pinned Matt finally, but it was a close, even match. Silently, I gripped his shoulder and squeezed it to let him know he was doing well. This kid was definitely top wrestling material.
I was sweating like a bastard by now, and soaked my neck to my waist. Without thinking, I pulled my tight T-shirt out of the waistband of my shorts and peeled it over my chest and off over my head, revealing my powerful, hairy chest, sweat trickling down its hard surface.
I locked eyes with Matt, ready for the next takedown. Only Matt's eyes weren't on mine. They were staring at my fucking chest. The kid must have seen my chest a hundred times, but goddamned if he wasn't getting turned on. My cock swelled stiff in my shorts and I breathed deep, feeling the lust spread through my body with each bloodpump in my veins.
When Matt looked up, he saw the expression in my face and knew he was busted. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. I didn't waste a second. I pounced, knocking him down to the mat. He struggled, but it was too late, I was gonna win this one, easily.
"Lesson Number One, Connors," I growled as I used all my upper body strength to push his shoulders back to the ground. "Don't let anyone make you lose your focus." He struggled to push his chest up and used his legs to try to dislodge my hold, but I kept steady, grinding him down. "Anybody," I repeated, giving a final shove and pinning the boy.
"Yes, Coach," he muttered meekly. I don't know if I'd ever seen my star player so broken, even after losing a match in tournament.
However, the kid was hard as fuck. His erect cock poked against my crotch, heavy with my own erection, which my jock was doing little to constrain. If Matt didn't feel it, he sure did when I started grinding my hips back and forth.
"Oh, Coach," he whispered in a deep voice as I fucked our two boners against each other, separated only by my shorts and his singlet.
Using one arm to keep Matt pinned down, I reached down and undid the snap to my shorts and pulled down my jockstrap. My thick cock sprung up hard, proud and ready.
"All right boy," I scowled. "Time for Lesson Number Two." The kid was struggling again, but once again, his focus was gone. He was too fucking scared to be in command. Easily, I flipped his body over, thrusting his powerful jock body with a thud against the padded mat. I came crashing down onto his frame a second later, knocking half the wind out of him. I didn't mean to be that rough on the kid. Hell, I'm not sure I even meant of this to happen. Was just too goddamn horned up to stop.
I began biting the back of neck with firm but gentle nibbles. Fuck, this kid's skin tasted wonderful, a combination of salt, sweat and pure man. Even at eighteen, Connors tasted like a fucking man. Pulling up at the leg of his singlet, I held the material in my hands and yanked a rip in it. Matt groaned and writhed his ass as I shredded that singlet.
Nice, tight globes of jockass now filled my hand and I took the liberty of exploring every fucking smooth inch of the muscle and the fur-dusted crevice leading to his tight pucker. Using one of my thick, hands, I guided my erect monster cock to his taut jock hole.
The minute my dickhead touched Matt's rosebud, it throbbed and spit out a gob of manjuice. This was definitely virgin territory. I took my time, using my big prod to smear his sphincter with the best, most natural lube to use for a jock ass fucking. Good thing I was leaking like a motherfucker, cause I knew the kid was gonna need to be real wet to take me.
While my dick performed its ministrations on his tight butthole, Connors lay still on the mat. Too still for my comfort. So I wasn't surprised when the moment my dickmeat start pressing forward, Matt pushed up with all his strength, trying to shake me off him. The resistance just turned me on even more, and I fucked my cock into him at last.
"Goddamn, Coach!" he yelled. I pushed him back down to the mat and I think he knew better than to speak up anymore, cause that's all he said as I slipped more meat up his tight, jock chute.
Shit. All this time I'd been chasing a stray blowjob here and there, I'd been missing this. The tightest, hottest hole I'd ever sunk into. It was all I fucking ever wanted. Tight, moist asswalls spasmed and gripped tight against my pole as I boned my top athlete.
I settled into a slow deliberate pace. I couldn't see Connors' face, so I wasn't sure, but I could swear this fuck was working both of us up into a deep, intense fury. I licked at the nape of his neck while my body writhed on his, twisting and screwing more cock into his backside, over and over. And I thought, yeah, this is how animals fuck. Deep, hard, answering only to their need.
"Fuck, Connors," I grunted, lost in the frenzy of impending orgasm. "Your coach is almost there, son."
Then I blew. Ten deep, thick shots of my sperm right into the depths of Connor's bowels. I smiled at the thought that I was planting my seed deep inside my favorite wrestler. Smiled and unloaded.
I came down from the most intense orgasm of my life and felt my hairy chest clammy against Matt's now bare back. My heartbeat pounded like crazy, and I could feel his breathing through the connection between our heaving bodies. Having spent its load, my dick retreated, softening and finally plopping out of Matt's violated ass.
I pushed my self off the mat and stood up. Slowly, I stuffed my cock back into my jock and rebuttoned my shorts. Looking down at the perfect form of the jock's body, I took a second to admire my conquest. His broad, sculpted back was coated in the sheen of our rut, and two rounded buns stuck up, still parted along with his legs. I could see the beautiful blonde hair lining his crack and the now exposed and opened jock hole, spasming in post-fuck glory and leaking with my sperm.
"All right Connors. Great practice. Now shower up and I'll give you that ride home."
I didn't know what to expect in Matt's face as he gathered himself and stood to look at me. Shame, anger, disappointment, anything was possible. But I sure as hell didn't expect the pure and utter vision of male contentment that greeted me. It took me a second or two to figure out what was going on. Then I looked down at the wrestling mat and saw it was covered with a wide pool of Connors' white jock spray.
I looked back into the kid's face and saw a big smile crawl over him, showing me his perfect white teeth. His hair was tousled from our activity and sweat cascaded down his forehead. I took a mental picture of this incredible moment.
"Yessir, Coach. Thanks for working with me today." With that he sauntered off to the lockerroom to clean up, his torn singlet still dangling loose from his wide, brawny shoulders.
The minute he was out of the gymnasium, I knelt down on the mat. Leaning down, I brought my face to hover an inch above the muck that puddle up on the vinyl mat. It still smelt fresh and warm. Sticking my tongue out, I made contact with the sperm-covered mat and licked forward, gathering the seed on my tongue. I lapped it up, then continues to lick all of Connors' semen up.
I stood up, my cock swelling again in my shorts. I picked up my shirt and began to walk to my office, my hardon throbbing and aching with each step. I licked my lips. Goddamn if Connors didn't have the best tasting sperm I'd ever sampled.