Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Subject: Coach White Don’t read unless you’re 18. Don’t copy without my permission. It’s easy to get. I consider this a foreplay piece, as it were. There’s lots of buildup, which I’m sure some of you will like =D. Anyway, enjoy the story. Or don’t. Either way, hit me up with criticisms or comments. This is a one-entry story, so don’t ask me to continue it. There he is. Five-six, gray-brown hair, pure 100% lean muscle. Astonishing blue eyes, which I could lose myself in for hours. My bodybuilding class coach, Mr. White, is pure, bred, American stud. He’s about fifty years old, but his age does not reflect his body. Built like a brick house, and hung like a horse, or so I tell myself, he is my first true crush. I’ve taken his class for three years, since they allowed you to start taking it in Sophomore year, and I haven’t been able to take my eyes off him since. I’ve just started my Senior year at my high school, and every day I weekend, I can’t wait for Monday. First period, Weight Training. This Monday is no different. I ride my bike up to the school, park it, and step into the locker room. Stripping down to nothing, I open my locker to stuff my clothes in. In his office, which is perpendicular to my locker, Mr. White sits. He stands up, stretches, and walks out to me. I’m the first one here, as usual. He walks right up to me, with a smug grin on his face, and winks. “How was your weekend, Aaron?” Great, I say. It was. “That’s good to hear. You stayin’ out of trouble? You’re not going to any parties, are you?” No, I say. Staying out of trouble, yes sir. “Good to hear, good to hear.” He looks me up and down. “Boy, I remember when you first came here. You were a twig. Now look at you.” I blush. Thanks, Coach. “No problem. You looking to go to any colleges?” I’ll probably go to state, I say, pausing slightly before I do it. “Good to hear, they’ve got a fantastic athletics program. Well, anyway, I have to catch up on some work. I’ll talk to you in class.” He gives me a pat on the bottom. Except he squeezes. Shit, I think. I’m at half mast as he turns to walk away. I’m in full blown business when he enters the office. I pull on my shorts, real quick like, and head into the Gym. Fuck, is he hot. I can’t get him out of my head, in his tight shirt with his bulging muscles, short shorts, that ride up his crotch… First period bell rings, and I start warming up. Some pushups, sit-ups, stretching. Mr. White walks up and down the line, glancing at each of the kids. He looks at me, and h,e winks. Then walks right on by. Jesus. I’m thinking. I walk him walk past, his butt a perfect sphere, shaking from left to right. Again, I have a boner. My second one in ten minutes. My balls are starting to ache from lack of release. I pull up to the bench press, first set of the day. Mr. White walks around the room, kızkalesi escort his penis jangling around in his pants. Is he wearing underwear? I’m fantasizing about him for a second when he pulls up next to me. “You looking for a spot, there, Aaron?” I practically jump. Oh, uh, yeah I am Coach. “Well, all you have to do is ask.” He winks at me, again. He never winks at me. Nor pay this much attention to me. He heads to the top of the bench, and I lie down. I put both hands on the bar, push, and he grabs the little spotter holds in the center of the bar. One, I think. Two. Three. Oh my god, he’s not wearing any underwear. I’m staring straight up at my Coach’s balls, and he’s looking down right at my face. Ten, I think, and sit up. Another one. How’s he not going to see this? “You know what, Coach? I don’t think I need a spotter for this. It’s not very much weight.” I say, a little reprehensively. “Non-sense. Everyone needs a spotter, even you. Now get down and give me ten.” I sigh. Crap. I look around, to see if anybody is looking my way. Everyone’s too concentrated on their workout, or on their conversation. I lay back down and line my pinky fingers up to the line. Shit. I’m looking right at his balls, and I can’t look away. I feel like the entire room is looking at me. Mr. White’s eyes are no longer looking at my face, but instead at my crotch. Ten, I think to myself. “Yep, I’m gonna wait to do another set,” I say, “I’m still a little tired, you know. Make sure I don’t strain myself.” “That’s fine. Just be sure you don’t over exert yourself. Say, I remember your mother telling me it was your eighteenth birthday last week. That true?” I nod. “Did you do anything special?” He asks. I can’t turn away from his eyes. They’re drilling into my skull. “Nothing really,” I say. “Just went to the Casino and hung out with some friends.” “That’s good.” He reaches down to his crotch and scratches himself twice, before repealing his hand. “Whelp, I’ve got some stuff I have to take care of. You find someone to spot you if you’re going to do any more bench presses.” Yes sir, will do. He walks away. I exhale. I still have an erection. Final exercise of the day, squats. I walk over to the machine, set the weight to max, and start my reps. Mr. White is three feet away, demonstrating the proper way to do squats to some of the Sophomore girls. His back is to me, and he squats, tightening his pants around his ass. Jesus, I’m gonna bust a nut, I finish up my set, and he’s still standing there, demonstrating to the girls. I turn around, and walk towards the exit to go to the locker room. “Where are you off to?” I turn around. It’s Mr. White. Where the hell did he come from? “I was just going to the locker room.” “This early? We still have nine minutes of class left.” tarsus escort I look at the clock. He’s right. Shit, I curse to myself. “Don’t worry about it,” he tells me. “Drop by after school, I need some help with the new football equipment, if you don’t mind.” “No, I don’t mind at all.” I turn around, enter the locker room, and head straight for stall number-one. * * * Having relieved myself, and completed the remainder of my school for the day, I head to the gym to help out Coach White. I pull up to his office, and knock. “You needed help, with, uh, something?” I stammer, seeing that he’s not wearing a shirt, and only his sorry excuse for pants. His pants are bulging. “Yeah, I did. Thanks for coming.” He directed me to his back room. “Help me sort out this football equipment into sizes.” There were about thirty of each variety of protective gear. It was all a giant mess. We started to sort it out; small shoulder pads with the other small shoulder pads, large helmets with the other large helmets. When we were all done, he stepped up to shake my hand. “Thanks a lot for helping me with this Aaron. Say, you still feeling sore?” “A little.” “Let me give you a massage. It’ll loosen you up.” “I, uh, have to get home…” I start to say, and he waves me off. “I can’t have you hurting yourself tomorrow by pulling a muscle. Now come on, I’ve got a table we can use back here.” He points further into his office, and there’s a massage table, conveniently enough. “We used to have a masseuse that would come in here and give massages, back in the seventies,” he explains. “Times change though. It’s too expensive to keep one around, now. Less funding for the school and such. It’s still pretty useful.” I strip off all my clothes, and lay face down on the table. “Which muscle was it that you said you hurt today? Oh, that’s right, your pecs. Well, I can’t help you on your back.” What am I getting myself into? One side of me asks, while the other is telling me, Don’t get your hopes up, it’s just a massage. It’s hard not to get your hopes up in this kind of situation. He starts to massage my pecs, and my deltoids. He grabs some oil off a shelf to his right, and begins to work it down my entire torso. He gets to my pelvic area, stops, and comes back to the top. I close my eyes, and he’s working my deltoids. After a few minutes, he moves back to my pecs. He moves down to my abs. I’m trying not to think of anything sexual, concentrating as hard as I can. But I can’t. I open my eyes, and see his blue eyes staring into mine, and his hard pecs, and thick, tree trunk like arms, all covered in a thick matting of hair. He looks away from me, clears his throat, and concentrates on my abs. Shit. I feel the blood pumping into my cock, and I’m at half mast. He anamur escort gets to the end of my abs, and removes his hands. I open my eyes. “I take it this means you like it.” He points to my now non-flaccid penis. In fact, I don’t think it could be any less flaccid. It’s rock hard to the point where it hurts. “I, uh, well, yeah. I guess.” I look down at his pants, and see a tent sticking out. “I take it this means you like it too?” He smiles, and grabs my cock. I close my eyes. Oh my god. This is the moment I’ve wanted for three years, and it’s finally here. I reach up and grab his pec, and pinch his nipple fiercely. I sit up, and look him in the eyes. His five o’clock shadow, his eyes, his square jaw. I grab the back of his head, and pull it to me. He wraps his hands around my back, moving them up and down, caressing my body. I reach down, and unbutton his pants. Slowly pulling down his zipper, gravity does the rest for me, and his pants fall to the floor. His cock, a good seven inches hard, stocks out and pokes me in the stomach. I reach down, and grab it. I start to jack it off, all the while my other hand feeling his body, grabbing his firm, hairy ass and thick thighs. He groans, sticking his tongue into my mouth, as I return the favor. He grabs my cock, too, and his other hand grabs my ass, his fingers slipping into my crack because of the oil. “I want you inside me.” He says, and I just look at him. It was an extremely odd choice of words, to be sure, but he grabs the oil, and pours it all over his hand, which he then uses to grab my cock, and stroke continuously. He turns around, palms flat against the tile, absolutely silent. I grab my cock and push the head up against his sphincter. I slowly start to push, but he does the rest for me; he thrusts his butt back, causing my cock to disappear within his ass. He squeezes his butt, causing me to writhe in absolute ecstasy, before stopping. I pull back, and push back forward. My penis seems to have a mind of its own, pulling out, and pushing back in, over and over in constant rhythm. He moans in delight. Nibble on his ear, and kiss his neck. My hands explore the front of his body, until I find his nipples, which I pinch, ever so gently and at the same time, as hard as I can. He simply grunts in reply. “I’m going to come!!” I say, softly, in his ear. “Do it,” he says. He grunts, more loudly than he had before, and sprays his load all over the wall. Not a second later, I do the same thing, pushing my cock in one last time, before coming inside of him. I grunt, and he turns his neck and kisses me on the lips. He grabs my ass, and pushes me into him, grinding my pelvis against his body. I spurt my load into him, before removing my dick, which flops upon exit. He gets down on his knees and milks my cock for all that its worth. When he can’t find anymore, he stands back up, and I do the same for him. I pull some of his come off of the wall, and stick it in my mouth. I then grab him, and kiss him. His tongue invades my mouth, as mine invades his. And that is how my Senior year started…with a bang. I’m sure it will end with one too.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32