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I hope you enjoy this story, which concerns the sexual awakening and development of Jody through his college years and early career in the Navy. To add realism to the story, much of the story is set in real cities, college campuses, Naval bases, and places of business. No implication that these places are accepting of homosexuality is implied. Should you visit any of them, please maintain normal caution and do not assume you will be accepted.
This story is the backstory of a character who will be included in a book to be published in the Fall, 2018, titled The Deputy Boys Book 1: Gary's Senior Year. Jody's story is entirely separate from this book, although he is a character in that book. Without further ado, enjoy Jody, the Team, and the Navy!
Kenneth Kirk
Jody, the Team, and the Navy
Chapter 5
By the time October had rolled around, Len and I had drawn our suitemates Louis and Micky into our sexual activities and I had met the lovely Keller brothers Phil, Blake, and Hal and their almost-8-inch cocks. After the first time Len and I partied with the Kellers, we were always invited over whenever their landlords were away. In early November, we went to their garage apartment for dinner with the three curly-haired brothers plus two other baseball players I had met briefly during the summer tryouts: Max Starling and Zeke Chandler. Max and Zeke also lived in the athletic dorm (Room 312, actually) and paid me occasional visits after we first fucked at the Kellers' apartment.
Max was very tall, 6'3", and slender with a well-toned musculature. He was good-looking with medium blue eyes and light brown hair he wore in a bur cut which made him look a bit rough. However, his dimpled cheeks somehow made him seem more approachable and he was a very nice person. He was a junior phys ed major and had a nice 7.5-inch cock on him, which he handled with power.
Zeke was an inch taller than his roommate and was a slender but strong man with blue eyes, light brown hair, a granite jawline, and high, prominent cheekbones. He was masculine and very handsome which made him quite appealing to me. He had big hands, big feet, and a big cock as long as Len's and actually a bit thicker. In fact, Zeke had the fattest cock that had ever made entrance into my mouth or asshole. He was a powerful, but never rough, driver who taught me that I am a "bottom" because I prefer to be the receiver in sex, whereas he was a "top" because he prefers to give in sex.
By the end of the fall semester, I had not yet encountered another bottom. That was okay by me because I was getting a lot of wonderful "topping" since I didn't have to share with anyone else.
Max and Zeke were great additions to my regular sex life, usually visiting me a couple of times each week, sometimes separately and sometimes together. Len, Louis, and Micky never seemed to mind sharing since they didn't get any less from me whenever there were more guys. Everyone seemed perfectly content with the situation.
When the Thanksgiving holiday came along, I rode back to Charlotte with Len, which allowed each of us to meet the other's family, including Len's older sister Linda and her husband Darrel and baby girl Allison. We didn't quite give up sex for the holiday as we met up on Friday evening to take in a movie. We saw the WWII story Tora, Tora, Tora, after which he fucked me in the cavernous backseat of his jet-black '62 Bonneville. Claiming a lot of papers to do before the end of the semester, we left our families after lunch on Saturday to return to Chapel Hill. That night we had a lovely three-some with Louis, who had stayed in town for the holiday and was horny as hell after three days alone. He filled my happy hole with three big loads that night and another Sunday morning. When Micky returned Sunday afternoon, we went out for burgers and then came back so everyone could enjoy a ride on my plush backside.
The Thursday after Thanksgiving, I had a special practice session with Coach Stan Jordan. You might remember that Coach Jordan was the member of the coaching staff who most appealed to me back during the summer tryouts. He was the assistant baseball coach with primary responsibility for helping the players improve their batting averages. After the summer program, he'd encouraged me to do some strength building to improve the distance and power of my hits and to try later to make the team. Seeing me for the first time since summer, he was very complimentary even before we went out to the field, noticing that I had put on some additional muscle since he'd last seen me.
"You're looking fantastic, Jody!" he said as he felt my bicep. "This arm is really solid," he smiled. "Let's see how your new strength translates to your hits."
Len was with me to do the pitching and Max and Zeke had come along to catch the hits that made it to the outfield. Coach introduced me to Billy Novak, a cute guy with a shy smile, who was going to catch for us. Murray Blumenthal and Reg Harmon, two more good-looking guys, were introduced as infielders. We shook hands all around, but I couldn't help but notice Coach checking me out some more. I wondered if he was gauging my strength or checking out my body for other reasons. I put that thought out of my head to prevent getting distracted from this important practice.
With that, we all walked out to the practice field where Len and Billy warmed up by tossing a dozen or so balls while I took some swings against imaginary pitches. Throughout the semester, Len and I had practiced together a couple of times a week, so I knew how he tended to pitch. No doubt that was an advantage, but I was happy to use any advantage I might have to improve my shot at making the team and winning a scholarship.
Over the next hour or so, I received 42 pitches, which included 12 that were out of the zone enough for Coach to call them balls. Of the 30 good pitches, I hit 25 of them. Only one hit was a little wild, passing just outside third base and about ten feet off the ground. Three were hard grounders that would have been caught by the shortstop. Nine of the hits went near the bases (mostly second and third) and seven were high flies that were caught by Max and Zeke. One hit soared high and long but failed by a few inches to clear the fence. To my delight and Coach Jordan's amazement, I hit four home-runs! It was by far the strongest performance of my career. When Coach Jordan waved the guys in, they surrounded me and congratulated me on some great hitting. Len beamed at me like he'd won the lottery or something. It was all I could do to keep from crying from the relief and joy at how well this had gone.
Back inside the field house, Coach Jordan took me to his office where he continued to be very complimentary. "Sit here," he indicated a chair in front of his desk. I sat while he stood in front of me.
"I'm pleased with all the hard work you've been putting in and, damn, boy, it shows. Len's been keeping me informed about how well you've been progressing." His thick, strong, kissable lips parted over gorgeous straight teeth that gleamed like pearls.
I wondered just what progress Len had been sharing with Coach.
"Do you think I have a chance to make the team?"
Smiling, he answered, "You keep this up and there's no doubt. You've added 25% to the power in your hits and could likely hit a homer at any stadium where we might play. And a good percentage of your shots would allow other players to advance one or two bases, always a good thing."
He leaned back on the desk in front of my chair. "Len told me you had really come a long way, but I needed to see for myself." I couldn't avoid looking right at the major bulge in his sweatpants three feet away from my lips. "I can see you're definitely great with the bat. I guess the only question in my mind is whether you'd be a good team player." His ocean-blue eyes looked deeply into my eyes. For a moment I worshipped his beautiful manly face with its substantial nose, strong jaw, and 5-o'clock shadow. Fuck, could he be any more masculine?
His deep voice brought me out of my reverie. "How do you think you would get along with the other guys?" he asked.
I wished I knew how much Len had told him. "Um," I said to buy a moment for strategizing. I decided to walk a fine line that neither suggested I was queer nor ignored that possibility. "I think I'll get along just fine with the other guys, Coach. Len and I have gotten to be very close since we became roommates and I know a few other guys quite well, too."
"Who?"
"Um, Max and Zeke. And I've hung out with Phil and Blake Keller several times."
"Do you like to be with those guys?" Was there a hint of suggestiveness in his tone?
"Yeah, sure," I smiled. "They're all great guys."
"How much do they like you?"
Hmm. "Actually, they all seem to like me a lot."
Coach grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "So I hear!"
"They've told you that?"
"Oh, yeah," he chuckled as he dropped a big hand into his crotch to adjust his junk. "Len's kept me very well informed."
I grinned at the devastatingly handsome coach. "So, uhm, you already knew how much they like me."
"I did."
"And why they like me?"
He laughed. "Yes." He held his cock through the sweatpants. I could see it was a huge cock and getting bigger by the second.
"Would you like to get to know me that way?" I shocked myself at my forwardness.
Coach let the question hang in the air for a second, two seconds. Maintaining solid eye contact with me, he stood slowly to his feet and hooked his fingers in his sweatpants. He slid them down and they landed atop his feet. A long and thick cock flopped out, hard and oozing pre-cum. It took my breath away for a moment. "What do you think?" Coach asked in a low voice from deep in his torso.
"I think that is one of the most beautiful cocks I've seen," I said as I slipped off the seat and onto my knees right in front of him.
"You can suck it if you like."
I hadn't planned on asking permission but didn't object to having it. Without touching it, I leaned forward, tilting my face up so I could slurp the fat fleshpole into my mouth from below. Before I reached the gorgeous piece, it bounced as it throbbed, releasing a blob of pre-cum. I extended my tongue to capture this drop of his essence. "Um," I moaned as it throbbed again and I had to follow the bouncing cock with my head as I tried to capture it in my open mouth like a naturist tries to capture a butterfly in his net. I was a good catcher today and quickly caught the moving target just as it released another dollop of natural lubricant.
He was not quite steel hard, but already his dick filled my mouth completely. It tasted faintly of Irish Spring and more pungently of fresh sweat, manly and intoxicating for me. My tongue instantly began to lick and swirl around this wonderful gift. He achieved full erection after less than 30 seconds of my sucking. Soon the coach was moaning as he held my head steady so he could fuck my mouth. After a few minutes, he stopped and pulled out. "This is very nice, Jody, but I want to feel your throat," he whimpered.
Looking around, I saw a short sofa against the wall. I rose from my crouch, stepped to the sofa, and lay down on my back, my neck positioned right over the side of the arm. My open mouth must have been sufficient invitation because he immediately aimed his fat cockhead into my mouth, pushing forward without hesitation right into my throat. His girth caused his cock to lodge in my mouth when just the tip had slipped past my epiglottis. I relaxed as he grunted and pushed again. This time my throat stretched to a larger gauge and the whole thing moved the last few inches until his groin smashed against my lips. Fuck, I thought, this is hot! He held his steely cock three inches deep in my throat for maybe ten seconds, then he pulled it slowly out until the crown landed in the middle of my tongue. Quickly I swirled my tongue around the magnificent cock, tasting the fresh pre-cum it released every few seconds. He moaned as my tongue caressed his cock. I found the thick vein curving along the underside and felt his heartbeats through the skin. I nearly passed out from the extreme sensuality of holding this hot man's living manhood in my mouth.
After a brief pause to enjoy my tongue-work, Coach drove back through my mouth, forcing right on past the bottleneck at the entrance to my throat. He moaned and grunted, letting me know how much pleasure he was getting from my mouth, throat, and tongue. I was mesmerized at how strongly he responded to my efforts. I wanted even more of this man and reached my arms back so I could put my hands on his hairy butt-cheeks. I held these firm orbs as they contracted and released as he fucked my throat. I could feel the rise and fall of the flesh on the sides of his cheeks as his pelvis slipped forward and backward. The butt-dimples I could feel drove my sexual stimulation through the roof!
He continued to work my throat for the next eight or nine minutes until his cock expanded so much it seemed hopelessly jammed into my body's natural constriction. I felt his balls slap my nose and felt the mini-convulsions starting in his shaft. I closed my throat down on the wonderful cock and held it for a couple of seconds while a big squirt of jizz blasted down my throat directly into my stomach.
My reward for a great blowjob was the transfer of his male essence into my body, where it would be absorbed and become a literal part of me. Though severely muffled by the huge cock in my throat, moans came from deep in my mind and soul in recognition of our unification from his sperm given so generously to me. I felt so connected to this amazing man!
He stayed buried for one more blast before ripping his appendage out of my throat like the cork out of a champagne bottle. (Did it really make a popping sound?) As it paused on my tongue, I sucked in my cheeks to squeeze the still blasting battering ram. Oh, damn, he tasted good! His essence tasted just like liquid masculinity and my cock throbbed out a big blob of pre-cum into my briefs. Several more blasts of his tasty jizz filled my mouth until I had to swallow or lose it, and I wasn't about to lose it!
I suckled the softening cock for a couple of minutes while Coach leaned over me with his hands resting lightly on my pecs, panting, and gasping for air until his breathing returned to normal. Finally, he leaned back and allowed his spent cock to slip out.
"Hot damn!" he grinned. "That was impressive! You are one hot cocksucker, buddy!"
He helped me up from the sofa. I know he saw my hard cock straining in my uniform pants, but he ignored it. He pulled me into his chest where he gave me a solid hug before releasing me to pull up his sweatpants.
He circled around behind his desk. "Are you busy tonight?"
"No, not really."
"Good. Would you like to come to my place for a follow-up?"
Hell, yes, I thought. "Hell, yes!" I said.
His luscious lips parted into that awesome grin as he wrote his address on the back of a business card. "How's 9:00?"
"Perfect."
"Jody?"
"Sir?"
"Be sure you douche before you come."
I grinned happily at the implication. "Of course!"
The address Coach Jordan had written on the back of his card was a two-story row house on the end of a red brick building containing six houses. All the trees and shrubs looked very young and I wondered how long he had lived here. My Timex showed I was 13 minutes early, which was due to my excitement, no doubt, so I sat in the car. After a couple of minutes, I saw Coach's door open to reveal him standing there looking out at me. He grinned and waved for me to come on in, so I got out and walked up the concrete walkway.
When I was ten or twelve feet away from him, I stopped to allow my mind to take a picture of him looking so very hot as he stood there in a faded Tar Heels tee shirt that hugged his big chest and hung over the waistband of a very short pair of body-hugging coach's shorts that seemed to be reaching out to me. His legs were very long, covered in pale brown hair, and shapely in a very masculine way. His bare feet looked huge, but not out of proportion to his 6'3" frame. He smiled and tilted his head questioningly. After a second, he laughed and said in his deep voice, "Get in here, hot stuff!"
I was pleased at him calling me "hot stuff" since I had tried to look as sexy as possible for him tonight. It was a cool evening, so I had chosen my tightest tan-colored Levi's and an olive-green woven shirt with a Henley collar and a row of about six buttons extending a couple of inches below my sternum. Since I left the buttons open, the shirt managed to cling to my abs and pecs while simultaneously giving a provocative glimpse of the curves of my pecs and the dark hair that covered my torso. Len and Micky had told me it was a very sexy shirt on me.
Coach blocked the doorway until I almost walked into him. At the last moment he stepped back so I could proceed into the house. As I passed in front of him at the vestibule, he whispered in a low, almost guttural voice, "Damn, boy, you look fucking gorgeous!"
I grinned and walked into his living room, knowing he was watching my plump derriere in my tight jeans as I moved across the entryway.
Only a second passed before I felt his hands grasp my shoulders followed by his torso leaning gently into my back and buttocks. In the same voice, he whispered into my hair, "I've got to have your amazing ass."
I leaned the back of my head into his chest. "And I've got to have your amazing cock."
An arm slipped around my waist as he began humping his erection into my waistline. He leaned down until his lips could reach my ear, where the hot breaths of his moans drove straight through my ear canal into my overheated brain, where his breath was interpreted by my brain as instructions to pump blood into my own cock.
Coach's hands met at my belt buckle where they worked as a team to open my belt and drag it out of my jeans. He tugged on my waistband and at least five buttons on the fly popped open. In a flash, he had my jeans around my knees, ripped my briefs down, too, and was pressing his palms against my butt cheeks. "Oh, God, they're so firm," he mumbled. "So smooth and hairy at the same time." He pushed me forward a step until my upper thighs encountered the low back of an overstuffed chair. One arm wrapped around my waist while the other arm went to the middle of my back, high, just below my neck. The hand on my back exerted pressure until I bent at the waist so my upper body fell forward, my groin against the crown of the chairback and my torso stretching down over the seatback. I dropped my arms so I could support my body by holding the chair's arms.
No sooner had I settled into a stable position sprawled over the chairback than I felt hot breath at the center of my back just above the swelling of my butt cheeks. I gasped. The patch of hair there was wiggling from Coach's kisses, sending strong impulses through my nervous system and turning me on even more. "Yes!" I moaned. Next, he licked downward from this point on my spine. With a very light touch he kissed and licked along the edge of my butt crack, sending shivers of response through my body. I moaned louder and longer. As his kisses traveled along this groove in my flesh, he stayed at the outer edge of my cheeks several inches from the love line that separates my buttocks. Nevertheless, his heaving hot breath tickled down into the deepest part of this crevice as he kissed slowly above it. I twitched and whimpered. My cock released a dollop of organic lubricant onto the chairback.
Thanks to Blake, I knew something of the pleasure a tongue can bring to my asshole. It was not possible to imagine the Coach doing that to me, but all the indications were that this was his intention. My mind rejected the idea as too unrealistic. He wouldn't go that far; I just knew it.
Without hesitation he moved further down along the curve of my cheeks, licking gently the sides of both cheeks and torturing me with his hot breath. My moans morphed into individual groans that followed each other with only a quick intake of breath between them. When I could feel Coach's breath caressing my hole like a Santa Ana wind, I almost passed out. "Ooooh!" I wailed. His kiss moved lower, closer to nirvana while, involuntarily, I held my breath. When his big hands drew my buns apart, I gasped and when his heavy lips touched my quivering sphincter, I cried out, "Oh, my god!" His tongue licked lovingly at my hole as my cock drooled and I cried from the extreme emotion. When his tongue pressed into my sphincter, I yelled out, "Oh! Yeeeees!"
Coach gave me an even longer and deeper tongue-fucking than Blake had before. Over and over I gasped for breath as he ate me out. He packed just the right amount of power into his tongue as it moved around and around while simultaneously charging and retreating in the most sensory-packed way. My asshole was on fire, which caused my throbbing cock to release blobs of pre-cum. Slowly he was getting slightly deeper as my hole relaxed, opening wider to welcome his fabulous tongue, to allow it to do anything and everything it wanted to do. He seemed to have all night for his feast for he was persistent in tonguing my hole without stopping.
Subtly and without announcement, he introduced the first knuckle of his middle finger into my body alongside his still-plunging tongue. "Oh, yes!" I groaned as my cock burped out more of its sticky liquid. The finger worked in concert with the tongue, but it gradually pushed in deeper until it was penetrating my rectum beyond my sphincter. "Fuck!" I exclaimed. Coach's index finger joined its mate and together they edged out the tongue. I hardly noticed because the two fingers were fucking my hole with even more power than the tongue. The plundering of my body had advanced a step from gentle, loving, and relaxing to pushing, stretching, and preparing. "Fuck, yeah!" Somehow, without the fingers leaving my hole, even for an instant, lube began flowing in around the fingers, making everything feel cold but squishy for a few seconds until my boiling asshole cooked the grease to its fiery temperature. Without the tongue in the way, the two fingers entered me deeper than before. They plunged in like Siamese-twin mini-dicks, repeatedly fucking and twirling within me. In moments they zeroed in on my prostate, separating inside me enough that each finger could rub sensuously along the different sides of my supersensitive gland. "Oh!" I wailed with every push along my prostate. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" My cock throbbed and leaked continuously.
A third finger wormed in and then a fourth. "Oh! Unh!" I gasped as my cock throbbed and my ass twitched. When all four had been working and stretching me for a couple of minutes, Coach began pulling the fingers apart, forcing my weakened sphincter to stretch out, creating a larger diameter opening in my guts. This was the first bit of pain I had experienced since the beginning, but the level of pain was much lower than the level of pleasure I was also getting. After a few seconds, the pain dissipated as I concentrated on relaxing my interior muscles completely.
"Please," I begged, "I need your cock!"
His fingers pulled at my asshole. "You want my cock?"
"Oh, yes, please!" I screamed into the chair.
"Where do you want it?"
"I want you to fuck me with it. Please!"
"Are you ready for it?"
"Fuck, yeah!" I cried.
"Okay," he grunted, pulling his fingers quickly from my rectum. A few seconds passed and then his cockhead kissed my waiting hole. He paused for a second and then pushed on, stretching my sphincter until I thought it would split, but his thick dick slid right in, surprisingly easily. I worried that I would split open and I held my breath as I waited for the intense pain. It felt huge sliding down into me, but my hole kept opening as it passed in deeper. I felt momentary shock as inch after inch of my insides yielded to his powerful push. I moaned loudly throughout my penetration, rising in both pitch and volume as the invasion went deeper. It seemed to take several minutes for the entire nine inches of gargantuan dick to flow in, but eventually he reached his depth.
He held still and rubbed my back and butt. "You've done great, Jody. You've taken it all!"
"Ooooooh!" I moaned in a high tenor register.
"You are really tight," he whispered. "And so warm and wet. You feel so good!"
"Oooh!"
"Are you ready to get fucked good, baby?"
"Ooooh, yeah!" I moaned.
Coach Jordan pulled most of his inches out of my clutching rectum and then pushed it all in again. He did this a few hundred times to give my raging prostate miles of sexy rubbing that drove my sexual tension ever higher. Our grunts and moans didn't remain staccato for long as they melded into a continuous cacophony of whimpering man-sounds. He pounded me across the chairback for almost ten minutes before he stopped. Keeping his giant prong buried deeply in my butt, he leaned over my smaller body and grasped my arms. Leaning back he lifted me into an almost vertical position which caused his turgid shaft to press hard against my battered prostate. "Ooooh!" I groaned as the pressure sent lovely sensations through my nervous system.
"I don't want to cum yet," he explained. "Let's move to the bedroom."
"Anywhere," I panted, "as long as you keep fucking me."
He chuckled. "That's the whole point, isn't it?"
"Um," I agreed.
"Unfortunately, I need to pull out while we relocate."
"Damn!" I bitched as he backed away from me, pulling inch after agonizing inch out of my hole.
Quickly we climbed the stairs and dashed into the master bedroom, dropping our clothing along the way as we could extract ourselves. When we got into the bedroom, Coach ripped the covers off the bed and commanded, "On your back!"
I planted my back in the middle of the queen-sized bed and he crawled towards the bottom end of the bed, lifting my legs and positioning himself with his red and swollen cock pointed at my red and swollen asshole. He squirted a couple of dollops of lube on his cock, pushed my legs back over my torso, and mounted me quickly. He seemed as hard as ever and I was soon drooling pre-cum at an impressive rate, gasping for breath as he rammed his bat as far as it would go.
In many ways I preferred being entered from behind, doggy style, because I felt I could push back to make a bigger contribution to the action, which ordinarily I enjoyed. It also seemed that tops could usually pound harder in that position. But I also had a strong preference for the missionary position. For one thing, it allowed good access for either partner to serve the cock of the bottom and seemed a position in which I never had trouble cumming. More importantly, though, I could see the face of my top and watch the expressions on his face. I found this very erotic and usually compensation enough for the slightly lower force of the fucks I was thrown.
Coach continued pounding into me as if he was trying to put his whole body up my chute. To my delight, he looked me in the eye and held my gaze as he gave me one powerful thrust after another. The look on his face told me he was having a spectacular time and that he liked me a lot. It also told me he was working hard to keep from cumming, which was okay by me because I knew the longer he held off the stronger the eventual explosion would be. It was very important to me that he have the best time I could possibly give him because I wanted him to come back often for more.
After a few minutes, he leaned over me, which changed the angle of his thrusts enough to reduce the stimulation my prostate was receiving. As our faces came closer, his eyes grew larger and more intense as he stared into mine. He paused in his movement with his face about a foot above mine. God, he looked so delicious, I felt my tongue lick my lips. He seemed to consider something briefly before he brought his face down to mine to kiss me on the lips. It was a gentle, hello sort of kiss for about two seconds, but then he sighed and pressed his face to mine, opening his mouth to allow his tongue to worm its way between my lips. Soon his tongue was fucking my mouth as vigorously as his hard cock was fucking my asshole. I was lost in some kind of blissful place connected to reality but at the same time far better than reality.
I received his tongue in my mouth as I received his cock in my hole: happily and enthusiastically. For several minutes we maintained this duel connection, at face and groin, as Coach pounded us both into that zone where you desperately need to cum but seem unable to cross the barrier. When we both were in that place, Coach slowed down slightly as if trying to hold us there indefinitely. I was loving every second of this most fantastic fuck from this incredible man, but I was becoming more and more fixated on bringing us to conclusion and reaching the incredible reward we both deserved.
Finally, I took control as much as I could. I began clamping my hole every time Coach's dick stopped at the deep end of his stroke. By speeding up my clamping rhythm I brought him with me into a faster-paced fuck which lifted us over that barrier in a minute or so. I went over the barrier first by a millisecond. I clamped very tightly as shots of heavy sperm from my swollen cockhead started bathing both our torsos with my sticky jizz. Spurred on by my orgasm, my hole clamped his dick like there would be no tomorrow. That brought him over the barrier, too, and he shot seven or eight big wads into my hole as I was shooting on us. Our screams seemed very loud to me. I hoped none of the neighbors heard that and thought we were killing each other.
A few minutes later, his softened cock (still long and thick, incidentally) slithered out of my ass. He took me into the bathroom where we each peed and then we took a shower together to rinse all the cum off and refresh us a bit. With towels around our midsections we moved downstairs to the living room where we each had a Budweiser.
We sat on the sofa against each other, but I noticed there was not a big romantic act or declaration, which simultaneously disappointed me and relieved me.
"Jody, you are one hellaciously incredible bottom boy!"
"Thanks, I think."
"That's definitely a compliment. You took a long and heavy pounding without any apparent discomfort. Most guys would not have gone the distance with so much enthusiasm."
"Well, hell, Coach, I was having the time of my life. I needed to cum, but I didn't want to end our fuck either."
"Len told me you have amazing stamina."
"Thanks."
"You've been with several of the players?"
"Uh, yes."
"Can you say who?"
"Wouldn't that be betraying a confidence?"
"Ordinarily, yes. But in this situation, we're sort of one happy family anyhow and I assume Len knows about all your activities."
"Yes, he does."
"I could ask him, but I would rather hear it from you. Just baseball players."
"Okay. Well, in addition to Len, just Blake and Phil, I guess. Oh, and Max and Zeke. Plus our suitemates Micky, who is a swimmer, and Louis, who is a gymnast."
"Thanks for sharing. Len tells me you have taken on several tops at the same time and seemed to like it."
"Do I have no secrets left?" I joked.
"Afraid not," he said. "So, you do like taking several tops?"
"Um, yes. So far, I haven't regretted it."
"May I ask what you think your limit is?"
"Yeah. Let me think about that." He got fresh Buds while I ran some calculations in my mind. "The most I have bottomed at one time was with Len and the Keller brothers, including their younger brother Hal. The three brothers each fucked out a load in my ass, one after the other. Then we took a break for a while. Then the three of them all fucked me again and when they were done Len had his turn. I'm sure I was fucked for at least two hours that night."
"Wow. Seven fucks in one evening."
Saying it that way was embarrassing. "It sounds rather slutty, huh?"
"To some people, maybe. To me, it's just damned lovely. There have been other times you've had group sex?"
"Oh, yeah. With Len and my suitemates, that's at least twice a week. Then I have Max and Zeke with Len about once a week. And I've been to the brothers' place four or five times in a couple of months. That's three to six guys each time."
"And you don't get sore?"
"Mostly, no. I will say all these guys are very kind. They might fuck me hard, but they never hurt me. Sometimes I get mildly sore, but a soak in the tub or even a warm shower usually takes it away."
"Amazing. And you really enjoy bottoming for several guys like that?"
"Truthfully, it's Heavenly. Even a great fuck, like we just had, is over before I'm really ready for it to end. Most of the time, I enjoy the second fuck and the third one just as much. If it's several guys then I get more satisfied than if it's just one."
Coach swigged his beer thoughtfully. Smiling at me, he said, "I think I need to share something with you."
"Okay," I said as I wondered what he might want to talk about.
"I think Len has mentioned to you his roommate from last year, Ron."
"Yes," I nodded.
"He was a freshman and played shortstop. Unfortunately, he flunked out of school, so he didn't come back this year."
"Len mentioned that."
"He was also openly queer."
"I heard." Where was he going with this?
"Like you, he loved to bottom. Since he was so open about it, some of the guys on the team decided to give it a try and most of them loved it. During baseball season, they often partied together after a game, especially on road trips when the girl-friends were not around. Frankly, the coaches got into the groove, too."
"Shall I send Ron a thank-you note?" I chuckled.
Coach laughed. "Perhaps that would be appropriate."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"I want to tell you about Ron's experience last year because it could relate to what might be true for you this year."
I'm about to find out what they expect from me, I thought. "I appreciate that, Coach."
"Okay. Well, during the baseball season, a lot of the players as well as us coaches got rather used to the availability of some good sex after the games. I saw the guys bonding with each other and the team spirit soared. I'm convinced we became a better team because of it. So, several of us thought it would be a good idea to be on the look-out for other guys who might also enjoy bottoming for their teammates. Before the summer tryouts, I met with Len and Phil to talk about that. So, they were alert for any signs as the new guys came to campus for the tryouts. Of all the guys, you were the one with the greatest potential and the fact that you are a good hitter really helps out."
"Are you asking me to, uh, service the team members after games this year?"
Coach seemed a little embarrassed about this direct question. "Not quite like that," he hedged. "It's clear you're a natural bottom and a very good one at that, I can now testify." He grinned happily at me. "And you have already had sex with, uh, five of the team members plus one lucky coach."
"Ye-ah." I still wasn't quite sure where we were headed in this conversation.
"So, what I'm thinking is that we can give you a full and satisfying life on campus with all the sex you would like and, at the same time, motivate the team to perform at its very best."
"I'm not very comfortable with the idea of taking on the whole team at one time. That's, what, 30 guys, right?" I felt my cock twitch under the towel.
"Thirty players and three coaches."
"I don't think I could handle that at one time."
Coach nodded. "I don't think anyone could handle that much sex at one time. Not all the guys will want to participate. I think we only had about half the players involved last year. This year will probably be about the same. A lot of men just will not ever get intimate with another man. Of course, we understand that a lot of guys who are not queer still enjoy sex with a guy. Like me, for example."
I smiled. "Actually, Coach, that is every guy I've been with. I don't know another guy who thinks of himself as queer or homosexual or gay."
"I think most guys, in sports at least, are primarily straight but like to get some great sex on the side when opportunities present themselves." He finished his beer. "So, Jody, if it was only three or four at a time, would you be up with that?"
Why was I getting hard at the thought? I grinned, "I think I might be."
"Before practice season starts in January, I'll figure out a plan on how we can devise a way to motivate the players without getting too much at any one time. We'll talk more about it later."
"Okay, Coach." I finished my beer, aware that my cock was creating a tent under the towel.
I looked over at the coach and saw that he, too, had a towel tent going on. His hand dropped to the big hunk of flesh between his thighs. He looked into my eyes as he rubbed it. He opened his towel and let the ends flop onto the sofa on either side of his hips. His hefty throat-stretcher lay provocatively along his thigh, pointed generally in my direction, silently begging to be sucked.
I stood, tossed my towel onto the sofa beside Coach, and knelt between his legs. As I started to bend down to take this lovely cock into my mouth, I heard him sigh loudly. After a leisurely BJ, he lifted me up, stood in front of me, and helped me get on the sofa, perched on my knees with my face atop the sofa back. No sooner was I in position than his tongue gave my hole a friendly lick. He rimmed me sweetly for about five minutes before using a finger to lube up the inside of my sphincter as well as the area around it. He plunged all the way into me with one slow stroke and a long groan. When his balls were kissing me where his lips had just been, we both grunted and I said, "Oh, yes!" For almost half an hour he gave me a deep, methodical, ball-churning fuck that caused me to dribble sticky pre-cum all over the back of the sofa. I realized why he had chosen a leather sofa. My tension built slowly, but steadily, as he sawed into me. He seemed to be holding us both just below the threshold of orgasm as he had done earlier.
Finally, I begged him, "Fuck me, Coach! I need your load."
In response, he picked up the pace, slamming into me with all his power, his big dick turning my ass into mincemeat. Breathlessly, he panted, "I'm going ... to give ... you ... every ... thing ... " as he jammed it in to the hilt and held me, filling my asshole with a load that both seared my insides and soothed them, too. He's giving me his manhood, I thought crazily. Crazy or not, that thought put me over the brink and I began spraying the sofa a couple of seconds after his shots ceased.
When he pulled out, I felt drippy and satisfied.
"I had a wonderful time with you tonight, Jody," he said as we caught our breath. "I hope we can do this often in the future."
"I hope so, too, Coach."
"Excellent," he said and hugged me. "I'm sorry I can't let you sleep over because we can't have someone see you leave in the morning. Are you okay to drive home?"
I was a bit disappointed but understood his reasoning. "Yes, I'm fine."
When I walked back into Room 404, my desk clock said 11:40 p.m. Len called me over to his bed and added yet a third load to my asshole before we dropped off to sleep in each other's arms.