Brandons Secret

Brandon's Secret by Chris Coppinger

This is a fictional story from only my imagination. It is erotic gay fiction. If you are under 18 or these materials offend you or your community values, please stop reading now and close this window.

Chapter 1

A new season, a new team. There is something about the last few weeks before practice starts that brings a building excitement to me. A new crop of players coming in, known starters returning, the always pleasant surprise that some player has improved remarkable over the last year. And as the coach, my job is to make all these pieces fit together and play together. The excitement of the preseason, when anything is still possible, fills me with anxious energy those first two weeks of August, while I wait for the first day of high school soccer practice.

This year looked to be shaping up well. If a few of the freshmen can step in and help right away, we may have a chance to make a run at district. No small part of that equation was Brandon, our senior captain. He was a solid player for sure, but he was a better leader. He was never disrepectful in practice, always worked harder than anyone, and simply led by example. It didn't hurt that he was absolutely beautiful. Not handsome, not cute - but beautiful.

He was only about 5'6", but he had a beautiful face, with a few freckles dotting his cheek. His steel grey eyes barely peeked out from under his long blonde bangs. His features were like those of a polished Italian sculpture. His slender body was deceptively strong. And despite the young appearance his fine features and small stature gave him, he was all man. Just turned 18, his legs were covered with reddish blond hairs - not course and curly, but fine and straight. Although I had never glimpsed him in the showers, I had seen him shirtless many times. His 6 pack abs were prominent on his slender frame, and a fine but solid line of reddish hairs ran a thin straight line to his inny belly button. His nipples were small but perky; they seemed perpetually hard.

It seemed like it took forever, but finally practice was here. Two hours later, I sent the team to the lockerroom with a big smile on my face. Three of the freshman could play! "Brandon," I yelled, as he broke for the gym.

"Yeah coach, what's up?" Brandon asked.

"After you dress,stop by my office," I said, "I want to see what you thought of the new kids."

"Sure thing, coach," Brandon replied, "I don't have to be anywhere tonight."

Twenty minutes later, a wet headed Brandon knocked on my door. I opened it to find him dressed in a pair of soccer shorts and a tank top. I couldn't help but notice how his cock bulged inside them. I am always checking out a guys package. Sadly, too many kids today wear baggy shorts and baggy jeans, the shape and size of their manhood hidden under the layers of fabric. Brandon's package seem to suddenly grow from his body the hang down. The fabric in his shorts rounded out over the cock then dropped back in. It wasn't big, but on such a small body, the bulge was very noticeable.

"Nice work today, man," I said as Brandon sank into one of the chairs in front of my desk. He spread his knees apart. He was wearing briefs, so nothing but the fine hairs on his inner thighs were visible to me. I felt my cock slowly begin to stir.

"Thanks, coach," he replied, "there are some stud freshmen out there. That kid Nathan has a nice touch on the ball. He really plays a lot older than he is. Justin is alright too and he is big enough to hang with the varsity."

Brandon has seen the same things I had. Apart from being a good player and a hard worker, he really understood the game. "What did you think about Bobby?" I asked, mentioning a speedy forward I was thinking about looking at for varsity.

Without hesitating, Brandon answered,"He's hot," followed by an awkward pause, then stammering "Umm uhh" he flushed as red as the freckles on his cheeks. His lip trembled a bit then he glanced up from the floor, "I'm sorry, coach," he said,and immediately returned his eyes to the floor. His hair dangled out from his forehead.

I rose and walked out from behind my desk and bent down beside him. "Brandon, what's wrong?" I asked.

"You know. You know about me now," was all he said.

"Know what Brandon?" I inquired, although I was pretty sure what he was talking about. I remembered my own pain of being discovered. I was 16, the high school jock, and constantly finding excuses not to have sex with the girl the entire class already assumed I was screwing. While watching a porn with a buddy, we both decided it would be alright to jerk off while we watched. I made the mistake of assuming he was thinking the same way I was, and made the mistake of reaching over to stroke his hot 7 inch cock for him.

My fingers barely grzed it before I heard, "what the fuck are you doing?" Within a few days, he ha d told a few people and they told some people. Fortunately, school was out in two weeks and my dad moved us to a new town for his job. Believe me, I learned to keep it hidden real well. And I knew exactly where Brandon was right now.

"Don't make me say it coach," Brandon pleaded. His eyes were watering but he was determined he wasn't going to cry.

"You like guys," I answered for him.

He nodded his head. "Please don't tell coach, please, I'll do anything," he begged.

"It's OK, Brandon," I assured him. "It's our secret. Nothing leaves this room."

"Thanks, coach. I swear, anything you need just tell me. Pick up cones, carry the balls, for reals, I'll do it for you."

Shaking my head slowly, I looked him in the eyes. "There's only one thing I want Brandon. But its up to you if you want to do it."

"Anything coach, just tell me," he said.

"Just be happy with who you are Brandon. You are too great a person not to be happy."

Now a tear actually fell. A look of relief swept over him. "Thanks coach, I meant it." He got up from the chair and turned to the door.

"Just a minute, boy" I said sternly, stopping him in his tracks.

"Yeah coach?" he nervously asked.

"You never told me what you thought about Bobby," I reminded him, "AS A SOCCER PLAYER," I added.

He relaxed again and actually laughed a little. "He not bad, definitely has speed. I still want to see how he does the next few practices against just the varsity players."

"I agree," I said, "if he can hang, that's gonna help us a lot up front."

Brandon nodded and paused, and with a mischievous grin on his face added, "yeah, and he's hot too."

Now I was the one laughing, although Brandon quickly joined me. I slapped him on the shoulder as we shook hands goodbye. "Brandon," I said, "if you ever want to talk about it, you know where I am."

"I know coach, thanks," he said, and with that he turned and walked out of my office. His firm small ass was mine to enjoy until he turned down the hall. I heard the door to the gym close behind him as I stood there, noticing my cock had started to swell.

Now, I'm not going to say I am well hung, but nobody has ever thought I was just average. At 7 3/4 inches long and almost 6 thick, I know a stack up pretty well compared to 95% of the guys. I've been this long since I was 15, though I didn't get all my thickness til my sophomore year of college. Back in high school, when I was always working to hide my sexuality, I let a few girls suck me off. One of them said I was huge, and she told a few friends. I got more than a couple of requests to see it, which I obliged, for the image. Now at 28, I don't worry about fooling people. I am not out by any means, quite the opposite. But now, I just don't talk about my social life with my co-workers. I let the wonder. I laugh off their questions. Fortunately, I am considered one of the top young coaches in the high school ranks. I don't fit anyone's perception of a fag, so nobody casts any suspicions on me. Good thing too, in this uptight suburban school district, a lot of parents would have a big problem with a gay coach in their son's lockerroom.

Now what to do. My semi was almost 7 inches and pretty obvious if anyone were to walk in. I grabbed a magazine, and carrying it over my midsection I walked into the lockerroom, to find a stall. Just as I closed the stall, I heard the lockerroom door open and Kurt Jenkins, the top cross country runner in the school stepped in from of the stall. Now to be honest I chose this stall for a simple reason. At the right angle, you could look through the crack and see one of the benches in front of the lockers, and one shower head on the far wall opposite the entrance to the showers. How would my luck hold up today?

Chris looked to be lucky to me. He peel off his running top and dropped it on the bench n front of the crack. Chris ran a 5:20 mile, but he really excelled at the cross country events. He kept that pace over 2 and 3 miles and terrain didn't bother him. He was a dark haired, average height kid, but he was built like those Kenyan marathoners. Bone, muscle skin and nothing else. He was sleek and slender. And a bit of an exhibitionist. He pulled off his shorts and underwear and dropped them on the floor. As he turned to the showers, I caught a glimpse of what looked like a nice sized flaccid cock. I suppose he figured he was the last one in for the night, because he didn't bother to pick up a towel. I guess he was tired from his run, because he went straight to the first showerhead -- the one I could see.

Turning it on, he soaked up the hot water as I watched it run down his back and channel into his long ass crack. Now I was completely hard. I put the magazine on the floor and started to stroke my cock. Chris was soaping himself up pretty well, and I noticed he paid a lot of attention to his groin. He reached back and ran a soapy hand up his ass crack, scrubbing a bit before he resoaped and returned to his front. Soap still in hand he turned to rinse off his back. There before my eyes was his cock. I was right - it was a nice 4 1/2 inch softy. His pubes were covered in soap so I couldn't get a good view, but I did notice the full, balls dangling loosely below him. He continued to work the soap over his cock and balls, and as he washed his abs, it appeard that 4 1/2 soft was starting to rise up, looking about 5 1/2 inches now.

Well now I had to finish. I put both hands around my cock and started to stroke the full length of it, brushing the head with every stroke. I sped up and went with just one hand, as my left hand fondled my balls. I felt an orgasm coming and I started to work my dick at jackhammer speed. Chris had just shut off the shower and was starting to walk back to the lockers. His semi-hard cock swayed back and forth, and he reached down and gave it a little squeeze, then a stroke of its full length. That was it. I went over the edge and blew a load of cum all over the floor. Shit, all over my magazine too. Quickly I reached for the toilet paper and got my jizz off the floor. Chris must have heard the toilet paper roll, because he stepped quickly to the bench and went to the locker for his towel.

Flushing the toilet, I closed up my magazine and left the stall, still a little engorged, but not enough to notice. "Oh, hi Chris," I said casually, "late training tonight?"

"Yeah, I had to make up a test after school," he answered. "Coach Connors said I still had to get my five miles in, so I am just getting back. Do you have to lock up?"

"Sure do, man," I answered, "so let's dress and head out. I'd like to be home before 8 tonight."

"No problem, coach," Chris promised me. "I'm almost done, just let me get my clean clothes on and I'll be out."

"That's a deal," I said. "I'm going to lock my office, then I'll be by to lock this place up." With that I left. I put the sticky magazine back in my office. I'll take it home with me and trash it. No sense putting it in the trash here. I'd hate to have to explain that to a custodian, nosy fuckers.

I set about locking all the rooms in the gym and turning off the lights in the equipment room. I was about two doors from the boys lockers when Chris walked out, gave me a wave and left.

Finally. I hurried through the last two rooms, locked them up tight, then set the alarm and headed to the parking lot. All the drive home, I kept thinking about Brandon's little secret. The poor kid had to be struggling with himself. The pressure of knowing who he is compared to the image everyone had of him. I wondered, when he lay in bed at night, whose images were in his mind. When he stroked his cock, did he think of Chris? Would he think of Bobby tonight? Did he try to force himself to think of girls, only to find that at the moment he released his load, an image of a hard sexy guy filled his mind. Damn, I was getting hard again. My mind recalled Chris's soapy body in the showers and his casual touching of his semi hard cock. Yes I was hard again, but tonight, I had fresh new pictures, and a secret I had been trusted with to occupy my thoughts.

• • • Well that's the end of Chapter One. I know I kind of teased you a bit on the sex. Just a jerk off scene and some shower voyeurism. Still, the story is why I write. I hope you get to know these characters a bit, and make them a part of you, as they are a part of me.