Home for the Holidays

Home for the Holidays Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)

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HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS

Part One

"Russ?" the voice called out as I walked through the big-box store parking lot. "Russ McAdams?"

Maybe it was the dark winter dusk or maybe I just didn't expect to see Coach Stanley, out of the classroom in his casual hoodie and jeans, but it took me a second me a second to connect the voice with the face.

Given how much I'd jerked off to fantasies about my AP History teacher back, I probably should have recognized him immediately. The guy wasn't the only dude I lusted after in high school, my body swimming in teen hormones and my head trying to make sense of it all, but I always thought he was the hottest teacher at Aurora High. 5'11" thick ex-baseball player muscle, thinning brown hair and a clean-shaven face that always seemed on the verge of a five o'clock shadow. Even the way he walked was a little bow-legged and a lot masculine.

He wasn't clean-shaven any more, instead sporting a closely trimmed beard. And he wasn't in his khakis and button down shirt now, but instead had on a puffy winter jacket and jeans, with a scarf that mostly covered a casual sweatshirt underneath.

"Coach Stanley?" I said as I realized who was walking up to me. Ed Stanley wasn't my coach, just my teacher, but all the school called him Coach Stanley or Coach S for short.

"Almost didn't recognize you," he said as he held out a gloved hand. I shook it. "Seems you've done some growing in college."

"Yeah, I guess I have," I chuckled and took his words to be a big ego pump. After I moved off to school and came out, I decided that I'd hit the gym. Hard. I was an athletic kid in high school, on the soccer and tennis teams, but I was slender, and my height made me look even leaner. But it was winter break of my junior year and I'd put on a lot of muscle since Coach Stanley last saw me.

"Well, you're looking good, Russ," Coach S said. I mean it was probably an innocent compliment, but standing a few feet apart from the guy, I got caught up in his blue eyes and bright smile for a second. All those silly adolescent puppy crushes I thought I'd outgrown came flooding back to me.

I know I blushed, but my red cheeks could probably be explained by the cold evening weather. I'd underdressed given I had only planned to pop in for a last-minute gift for my sister. "You running some errands, Coach?" I asked.

The man nodded and gave one of those trademark Coach Stanley smiles. Fuck I was gonna be jerking off thinking of him later, for sure. "I've kind of procrastinated but I'm here to pick up a tree." He gave an embarrassed shrug. "It's a lot of trouble to go through with just me, but you know, I guess it doesn't feel like Christmas without one."

I didn't know Coach Stanley's story. I mean, a few of the girls in my high school gossiped about his hot fiancee, so I think I expected him to be married by now.

"You busy shopping, Russ?" he asked. I half thought Coach would just say hello then go on his way. But I figured a teacher enjoys running into a former student. And I was a good student, I knew - academically successful and all-around "good kid."

"A last minute gift," I replied, holding up my bag. "Guess I'm a procrastinator, too, Coach," I laughed.

Stanley flashed me that bright grin, and it seemed like his eyes couldn't break contact. Fuck. "Well, I guess I better let you get on with your errands," he said. "Good running into you, Russ. Take care."

"I will," I said. "Good seeing you, too, Coach."

He paused and then added. "And if you ever want to stop by the school, say hi... I'm always around."

"Will do," I said.

We both kind of stood in the parking lot, looking at each other. I think we laughed at the same time from the awkwardness.

"All right," he finally said with a nod and turned to walk over to where the Christmas trees were set up.

He got about four paces, but I spoke up. I couldn't believe I was about to say this, but I figured if I made a fool of myself, it didn't matter. I didn't live in my hometown any more. And something about Coach's vibe made me think something was up.

"Hey Coach," I said. The man stopped, surprised, but turned around. I took a couple steps forward. "This may sounds weird," I said with a deep blush. "But if you want some help setting up your tree, I'd be glad to help out."

I could feel my heart pound, and I wanted the parking lot to swallow me, the embarrassment was coming on so strong. Thankfully, Coach Stanley's smile returned. "Yeah?"

I nodded.

He seemed like he was trying to check some emotion. "I'm sure you have better things to do, Russ," he said.

I had no inclination that Coach Stanley even thought about guys, but those words were when I knew he wanted me.

"My parents have some holiday party to go to, and I don't have any plans," I said. "I'm happy to help. Honest."

Coach paused then agreed. "All right. Maybe I can give you my address and you can meet me over there?"

We made a plan.

I went back home to drop off my shopping and to grab a quick bite. I had a quick change of clothes. I felt weirdly nervous, like I didn't know what Coach Stanley went for. It was a weird thought and unexpected I'd even be thinking this on a Saturday night before Christmas. I took off my sweats and slipped on a nice pair of jeans. A long-sleeve gray T and a layered T-shirt with my college logo on it seemed to be a nice jocky-preppy outfit and the snug size showed off my body pretty well.

"Hope you like it, Coach," I laughed in the mirror.

I went down to find some leftovers for dinner.

My dad was in the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of wine he was taking to the party. I told him I was thinking of going over to hang out with one of my friends. And maybe staying over if that was Ok.

Dad was the softer touch of my parents, but Mom probably didn't care. I was responsible, and they had a lot of me time over the holidays. "Just text us when you know your plans for sure," he said.

"Will do, Dad," I replied. "Have fun at the party."

"Be safe," he added, as went to get his coat, just as Mom came down the stairs.

They left pretty soon thereafter, and I cleaned up from my quick dinner.

By the time I got to Coach Stanley's place, I was feeling nervous, real nervous. I parked my car and walked up to the front door of the modest colonial house in a decent but not overly fancy neighborhood. I started second guessing myself. Maybe I'd been misreading the cues, but even if so I'd have some quality time with an incredibly hot man. I figured I'd just enjoy that for what it was worth.

When Coach answered the door, I was so turned on. Gone was the puffy coat and the scarf and the sweatshirt. My high school history teacher stood before me in a pair of jeans, sock-clad feet and a loose, thin cotton T-shirt of some fundraising road race. This shirt was a little loose but somehow draped perfectly over the rounded shoulder muscle and strong pecs. Even if it wasn't snug, I could tell Stanley kept his midsection flat and trim for a dude in his late 30s. I don't know why this was a major turn on, but Stanley wore a thin gold chain necklace around his corded neck.

"Glad you could make it, Russ," he greeted, his mellow tenor voice gaining a friendly edge. "Come in. I've just put the tree in the stand and was about to start on the lights."

I did feel kind of dumb. In my imagination, I'd come over and right away would be having sex with my former teachers. But here I was to help him with his tree. I took off my coat and followed him to the living room.

There were a few wrapped presents set to the side and a few family photos in frames. And there was a big bookshelf with hardbound books. But other than that it was very much a bachelor home. Sparse and clean, but not homey at all. I kind of liked it as a glimpse into Coach's personality, but it kind of felt lonely, too.

I set my coat down and followed his directions, holding the string of lights as he wrapped it around.

It was all business, but having two men at the task made it go more quickly. Next was the garland. Then there were a bunch of ornaments to put up - a couple of boxes.

"We don't need to do all of these," Coach said, handing me one.

It was a little frustrating being so close to this hunk in his own home. But it was a good kind of frustration. Sneaking looks at him. His handsome face, his serious demeanor, his hunky body. It was like every sexual thought I'd had sitting in his third period class all junior year came back to me, only it felt more powerful. Closer, more real.

At that point I wasn't expecting anything to happen. Maybe Coach was lonely at the holidays and just wanted some company. If so, I was happy to give it.

Then I felt his hand on my shoulder. "Let me just get by you a sec," he said. He reached up over my shoulder and hung an ornament in a bare spot. And just as quickly his hand left.

I wouldn't think anything of it, only two minutes later, he repeated the action. I paused and savored the grip of his hand on my shoulder as he placed the ornament.

My heart was pounding now. I waited a few more minutes, feeling this strange energy in the room. I really didn't want to misread things, but something was up. As Coach reached over and put a ball on a branch, I stepped beside him, almost behind him and put my hand on the middle of his back. Coach Stanley had one hell of a strong back, I could tell, and up close I could smell his aftershave.

"Mind if I get in here, Coach?" I asked, reaching up to the top. I had a good four inches of height on him.

As soon as I placed the ball, my eyes dropped level again and I saw those mesmerizing blue eyes. Quietly expectant.

I gently massaged that spot in his back, through the T-shirt and leaned in.

Coach's lips were soft, almost chapped, but they parted and I felt the tip of his tongue graze my own lips. As I parted them, our mouths connected fully in a kiss.

In my imagination of how this evening would go down, nothing compared to the thrill of that kiss. I was a young guy still, just 21, and I was realizing then that none of the guys I'd been with really knew how to kiss. Not like this.

Stanley's look was all serious when we finally broke for air. My heart was racing and I just sensed his was, too.

"You OK with this, Russ?" he asked softly. "I usually don't do anything like this."

I ran my fingers along the small of his back. I may not have had Coach's kissing skills, but I enjoyed being physical and handsy-flirty when I hooked up with a guy. It was something I learned from a frat boy I sorta-kinda dated and now something I consciously worked on.

Coach seemed to like it, and I could see his nostrils flare as my fingertips slid under the hem of his shirt to touch his bare flesh.

"More than OK with it, Coach," I grinned. Just being close to him I could tell how solid his body was, and that was turning me the fuck on. But I noticed Coach S wasn't making much move to touch me or feel my body. "More to the point... are you OK with it?"

He cocked me a little grin. "Yeah, Russ... it's just... part of me thinks I shouldn't be doing this."

"I'm not gonna blab to anyone, Coach," I said. "Promise." I ran my fingers up higher along his lats. Rock hard solid muscle that was more dense than bulky. I could tell the man was gonna give me new workout goals, already. "Come on... I want this so bad."

That made him smile. "I want you, too, Russ," he whispered, getting that serious look on his face again. And I was now getting my second Ed Stanley kiss, almost better than the first. And the man's hands were now on my waist, openly feeling me up as he pulled me into his body.

We made out, right in his living room, right in front of the Christmas tree, and our hands moved from gentle exploration gradually into groping. It was like we were copying each other's moves, and one-upping them.

The look on Coach S's face when he pulled back was adorable. I could see a crazy amount of lust but also the desire to fight it.

"I like to take things slow, Russ," he said as his blue eyes swept up my taller form.

"Works for me, Coach," I muttered, my voice cracking with lust. I mean, my normal MO would have been to go hard and heavy with a dude like this. But I didn't want to see the impatient young guy I really was.

He cracked a smile. "How bout some make out time in the bedroom?"

I nodded and followed him. The master bedroom was somehow even barer than the living room of Coach Stanley's house. But it smelled like Coach's aftershave and the scent hit me like pheromones as I watched the man pull the covers down and get up on the bed, still in his stocking feet and clothes.

Normally, I'd be stripping down, ready to get it on, but I followed Coach's lead and kicked off my shoes before joining him.

"Thanks for coming over, Russ," Coach said softly after a kiss.

My hands were on his chest. I was doing my very best to be a good boy and not grope the man too much but fuck he felt nice. I'd hooked up with some hot guys before, but Stanley was probably the hottest I'd scored. And the fact that I had some lingering high school fantasies added to the thrill. I was rock hard in my jeans as we lay on our sides, face to face.

"Not how I was expecting my evening to play out, Coach," I said. "This is a fantasy come true, to be honest."

He chuckled softly and ran his fingers along my flank. "It's Ed, Russ," he said. "You can call me Ed."

"All right, Ed," I said. "But I'm probably still gonna think of you as Coach."

He shook his head gently. Maybe mildly bothered by the fucking with his former student thing, but owning up to the dynamic. "Probably to be expected." Then he added, "You really better not fucking tell anyone, Russ." It was the first time I'd heard my former teacher swear, but the gruff tone was in gest, even if I knew Stanley had real anxiety about what we were doing.

"For real, Ed.... whatever happens stays between us." I took a deep breath and felt my heart pound. I was not good at doing the patient approach. "I know you wanna take it slow, Coach, but you make me so fucking horny."

That made the man laugh. "All right, buddy," he grinned. He pulled back and kind of sat up. I watched him pull his T-shirt off over his head.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" I gasped, my thought going straight from my head to my lips. Coach's body was just incredible. Meaty and thick, but also in shape, even with knotted abs. He had a lot of brown fur on his chest, swirling over his round pecs capped with thick brown-pink nipples. And to top it off that gold chain clung around his neck.

"What?" he reacted with a laugh.

"You, that's what," I said. "That body is insane." I normally didn't verbalize my reactions to men when I hooked up. Then again, normally with my hook ups both men would have gotten off by now and be getting dressed to go our own ways.

Stanley seemed pleased with my compliment. "You're looking in fine form, too, Russ... come on, show me what you got."

I felt inadequate but I wanted to get the party going, so I stripped my shirt off, and raised the ante by undoing my jeans and pulling them down over my legs.

Already, Ed's hands were on my semi-naked body, feeling me up. Seems that Mr. Take it Slow was getting horny himself.

"Damn, Russ, you're not one of those Corbin Fisher guys, are you?" he teased.

I was eating his praise and his touch, too. After I kicked off my jeans I spread my legs to show off the hardon in my boxer briefs. I wasn't porn hung, but I measured up pretty well against most guys I'd been with, and I was certainly rock hard right then.

"You watch that stuff, Coach?" I laughed.

"I won't lie, Russ. That stuff's gotten me through some pretty lonely nights." His blue eyes met mine directly, communicating not only his desire but his vulnerability. For some reason, that made my cock twitch.

"No need for porn tonight, Ed," I replied. Then with an impish smile, I added, "Unless you wanna have it on."

He shook his head with a laugh. "No. No porn." He took his hands off my biceps and reached down to undo his jeans.

I swear my breath stopped as I watched him peel them down. I swear I don't know how and why I didn't realize that Ed Stanley had gone commando. As the jeans slipped down, I saw the thick brown hair of his lower belly, then a solid erection eager to poke out.

Coach was of average length. Totally average, yet thicker than normal. His cock was girthy and beautiful and seemed to fit him.

But his attention was on me, and as he scooted up back close to me he ran his fingers along the waistband of my underwear. "May I?" he asked.

"Oh yeah," I replied. Like a kid unwrapping a present he peeled them off over my boner and then jerked them down my legs. My prick stood up and jerked in excitement.

"That's a nice tool, ya got, Russ," he growled. He stared at my cock then looked up to my face again. "You definitely could be in one of those Corbin Fisher videos." His fist wrapped around my hard meat and almost instantly his palm was smearing my pre cum down the shaft with its regular strokes.

I touched his dick, now, too, feeling like I had permission. He hissed, and I watched his face react as I did my best to adjust my touch and approach. "You into college dudes, Ed?" I asked. Maybe it was nosy or forward to ask. Coach wasn't old or anything, I'd guess mid 30s, but he seemed very much into my collegiate body.

He nodded. "If I'm honest with myself... yeah. I guess I think and wonder what if I'd done stuff back then."

I felt back for Coach S and also weirdly protective of the man. I let go of his dick and held up my arm. "Come here, Coach," I muttered.

He took the invitation and scooted into my embrace, nestling his warm furry body against mine. For a man in his early 30s, Ed Stanley was as hairy as a man in his late 40s. I wrapped my arm around his back and he held me in a similar grip. We humped our hard dicks together, slowly, but didn't really escalate the sex. Not yet. Ed just rested his head in the crook of my neck and held on to me.

"Feels nice, buddy," he said. Then, nervously, "you must think I'm a mess."

I patted his back. It was incredible how solid his lats were. "Not all, Coach... Ed..." I heard him laugh. "It bother you that I'm still calling you 'Coach'?" I asked. "Old habits and all."

Stanley pulled back. Up close his face seemed less youthful but he was even more handsome. I tried to memorize the soft lines in his rough-skinned face and the close trim of his beard. "It's probably not making me feel less like an old pervert, but it's all good, Russ."

He'd asked me to take things slow, and we were just in this quiet emotional moment. Which is why I was surprised by the sudden move Coach made to roll me onto my back, with him on top of me. He was 5'11" and shorter than me but he easily weighed as much. I loved feeling every ounce of his hard body on top of mine.

We kissed, and Ed was no longer doing the soft, gentle kiss. It was more the hard sexual kissing I was used to. Coming from this man, it drove me wild. Roughly he thrust into my crotch with his. I never was into frottage, and this wasn't gonna get me off. But as foreplay I fricking loved it. Feeling Coach S's athletic ex-jock body on top of mine, working up his own sexual heat to match mine as we sucked each other's tongues and then took turns plunging in and out of our mouths with them.

This whole evening had been unexpected and had played out with surprising ease. Only I realized I didn't know Coach Stanley's deal. On the apps, you know from the get go what the guy is looking for. I didn't know if Coach was a top or even if he was into fucking. For my part I was pretty vers and while anal was my favorite thing, giving or receiving, practicality mean that an oral hookup was more common.

The way Ed was putting his whole body into our intensely sexual make out made me half expect the man to kick my legs apart and ravage me. Instead he slowed his hips and paused, pulling back with a big fucking grin.

"Please tell me you suck dick, Russ," he hissed.

I chuckled. "Yeah, Coach."

That was all he needed to hear. Gone was the patient man. Instead he quickly scooted up and lined up his dripping cock to my lips. I mentally prepared myself, hoping Stanley wasn't the type to go into rough facefucking mode. I opened my lips and felt his prick press past them.

Thankfully after Coach pushed in three solid inches, he let me do the work. I didn't have a great angle or a lot of room for move my head back and forth, but that was OK. Stanley didn't need a pro blowjob, it turns out. After a minute of my awkward bobs, I felt his quads tense and his voice get real strained.

"That's it, Russ..." he hissed. His sexy masculine voice now needy. "Right fucking there, buddy.... so close... Yeah, keep sucking! Oh god, oh fuck... UNGH!"

His cum was hot and the load thick. The angle made it shoot against the roof of my mouth so it was a half second before I tasted him. He was salty and sweet and I was instantly hooked. I swallowed that ejaculation and moved my mouth back and forth, adding suction to coax out a few more jets. Other than the my sorta frat-guy boyfriend and a 20-something dude I went out with for a few months, I didn't have much relationship experience. And in my one-off hookups, my dick size meant I was more often then not being serviced orally. But damn, I loved this feeling of a man cumming in my mouth and down my throat. Particularly because it was Coach S.

He finally pulled back, a huge smile on his face. "Thank you," he muttered and patted my cheek. Then, he said, "your turn."

I watched as he quickly scooted down to get on all fours between my legs. I had been so focused on blowing him, I almost forgot how eager I was to get off myself. Coach was reminding me now, the way he licked up my boner, one side then the other.

Maybe Coach was closeted, I don't know. But the man knew how to suck cock. He had a good technique as he took me into my mouth and started working me up and and down. But the most amazing thing was his enthusiasm. Even though he'd already gotten his rocks off, the man was so clearly into this. Into sucking dick. My dick.

I watched him and enjoyed him, not overly urgent in my need to cum.

But, fuck, I felt Ed's fingers nudge my balls, and the urgency hit me. I thought of trying to hold back but I worried I'd mess up a perfectly great orgasm.

"Coach!" I hissed. "I'm gonna cum.... oh SHiT!"

I could hear Ed gulp as I pulsed my seed into his mouth. Then on my second spurt, he let out a deep, excited moan.

I leaned my head back and just enjoyed every wave of pleasure that coursed through me. I could get used to Ed Stanley's skills, for sure.

Finally, the man relinquished my prick and gently kissed up my belly and chest. I felt a little ticklish after the intense cum, which made him laugh softly.

"Thank you, Russ," he said, now raising his weight above mine, our soft dicks pressed together but our torsos not touching.

"Man... you're the one that's letting me live out my high school fantasies."

I could see him wince a little at that but he just nodded. "Well, I'm glad." He gingerly scooted off to the side, resting on the bed beside me. "I'll be honest, Russ... I don't know the etiquette in these situations."

"What do you mean, Coach?" I asked, turning toward him and running my fingers through the hair on his chest. I wanted to memorize the look and feel of this man.

He seemed shy now. "Sometimes guys seem to want to split once they get their nut. And sometimes they seem mad if I don't ask them to stay."

"I've done both, Ed," I assured him.

That seemed to relax him. "Well, you wanna stay for a bit? Maybe we can light the tree, enjoy some egg nog?"

I nodded, a smile on my face. "Yeah," I said.

That made him happy, I could tell. It seemed strange a man as hot as this could be so lonely, but I was happy to be his stand-in boyfriend or whatever for the evening.

We kissed some and then got up to get dressed again. As we padded back into his living room, I had to ask, "So... there been a lot of guys for you?" Maybe it was a sore point, but I figured if Ed wanted to some quality time, we could talk man-to-man.

He shrugged. "About ten. About half of those in the last year," he explained. "I guess I'm still figuring some stuff out."

I nodded, sympathetic. I had a different journey than Coach, but I understood some of what he was going through. "Well, I'm real glad I ran into you, Ed."

He smiled. "I'm glad too, Russ."