Meeting The Coach

Meeting The Coach: Part 1 Harrison Morris

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Brandon Davies had been impatiently sitting in his car in the parking lot for the past half an hour staring at the training facility with both anticipation and anxiety. Either his fondest wish was about to come true, his hopes would be dashed, or -- perhaps worst of all -- he'd get the opportunity...only to come off like some sort of blithering idiot and make a fool out of himself in front of the man he admired the most. He shook his head to get those thoughts out of his mind. "Positive vibes only," he muttered softly to himself before checking his phone again. No message. "Dammit!" He'd checked his phone for the text he was expecting every five minutes or so since he pulled into the parking space. "What the fuck is taking so long?!" He tossed his phone into the passenger seat in hormone-driven frustration.

Moments later, he heard the buzz he was waiting for. Excitedly, he grabbed the phone. There it was. A text from his buddy, Jason: "You're good. Approved press pass should be waiting for you at the desk. Once you check in, someone will escort you."

"What took so long?" he typed into his phone.

Moments later, Jason's reply came through. "Sorry. He wouldn't agree to approve you until after I did the deed. And then he made me cuddle with him for half an hour afterward before he'd call to issue the pass for you." After a few seconds another message was added to the thread. "You owe me BIG TIME!"

Smirking, Brandon typed out. "That bad, huh?"

"TB man!" Jason's reply came instantly, making Brandon shudder.

A few years back, a friend who knew about Brandon's fondness for athletes and coaches had set him up on a blind date with a guy who was somehow involved in that world. It turned out the guy was an obnoxious sports agent...and not the kind who would fly you on a private jet to Rome for dinner on a whim and then throw his legs up in the air and let you fuck his hungry bubble ass later that night. The guy turned out to be an obnoxious prick who talked incessantly about his own greatness the whole evening and kept referring to himself in the third person. Worst of all in Brandon's book, when he wasn't talking about himself, all he wanted to do was talk about his favorite player of all time: Thad Burnett.

An hour in -- 50 minutes later than he should've -- Brandon had excused himself to the restroom feigning the need to take a leak and called Jason, desperately pleading for a rescue mission. Because Jason's sort of a prick too -- but a loveable, endearing one rather than obnoxious and exhausting -- Brandon received a phone call a full 15 minutes later, pretending there was a family emergency. Ever since that evening, the two friends used "TB man" as shorthand whenever either had a less than satisfying time with a guy.

Another series of texts flew into the thread. Obviously his buddy was not pleased, to say the least.

"Terrible kisser," "Tried to swallow my mouth whole," "Gave terrible head," "Was even bad at giving a hand job. Who doesn't know how to give a freakin' hand job?!?!" "And let's just say this... I used to subscribe to the theory that it's not the size of the rise but the motion of the ocean. Not anymore with this guy. I had to fake pleasure." "Luckily, it only lasted 2 minutes before he shot. 2 minutes of action, 28 minutes of cuddling. Worst. Sex. Ever!"

"Damn! Sorry, bud," Brandon typed back, chuckling in spite of how bad he felt.

"You're going to be!" came Jason's reply quickly. "You're slutting out for me to pay me back for having to endure this."

Brandon and Jason had been friends for over ten years. While both men agreed there was at least SOME sexual chemistry between them, they'd mutually decided their friendship was more important than sex. They'd made a gentleman's agreement that there were only certain "break the glass emergency" situations that might warrant the two of them ever getting it on. Sure. Paying back a big favor was on the list. But Brandon didn't believe that bad sex rose to the level of needing payback.

"I'm not letting you fuck me" the top under most circumstances typed back.

As if he already knew what Brandon was going to say, Jason sent a response almost instantly. "He had a micro dick, Bran. A micro dick!!! When we fucked, it felt like he was using his pinkie."

Brandon roared with laughter like an idiot, sitting there alone in his car. Luckily, no one was nearby to catch sight of him. Once he regained his composure, he typed the only thing he could into his phone. "Weird. This text thread is breaking up. How can there be static on a text thread? I'd better get going, I guess."

"Yeah, yeah... If I were a petty man, I'd wish you the same luck I just had. Instead I'll just say go have your fun. I hope it's worth it."

"Thanks, bud," Brandon typed back. "Fwiw, I appreciate you taking one for the team. I'll be in touch."

"You'd better! I want details."

Brandon smirked. Then without responding, he muted the volume on his phone, got out of the car, and headed toward the front door, the butterflies already doing a number in his stomach fluttering even more.

When he walked in, he was greeted by the friendly woman at the front desk who looked to be middle aged. "May I help you, sir?"

"Brandon Davies," Brandon put on his most winning smile. "I have an appointment."

"I don't remember seeing you on the calendar for today." She looked at her computer screen. "Hmmm. Looks like you're here after all. One moment, please."

Brandon smiled at her before she picked up the phone and spoke with someone briefly. Two minutes later, a guy who looked to be in his mid or late 20s came out, greeted Brandon, handed him a lanyard with a laminated press pass on the end of it, and escorted him back through a series of hallways until they came to a large door at the end of a long hallway. The kid turned to Brandon. "You're the last interview of the day. You'll have half an hour -- 45 minutes at the absolute most -- then he's got to get going. He has family plans this evening that he can't be late for. I'll tell Janine to collect your pass on your way out. Any questions?"

"No. I'm good," Brandon replied, feeling like his knees might buckle from sheer nervousness.

"Okay. I've got to head to a meeting. He's expecting you. You can go on in."

As the kid hurried down the hall, Brandon called after him. "Thank you!"

He clasped the doorknob and exhaled sharply, his hand shaking a little. This was a big moment. When he and Jason had cooked up this whole idea, it had started out as wishful thinking...a fantasy that wouldn't actually come true but was fun to think about. But it seemed like serendipity when the two of them ran into a member of the team's front office that night at a bar. Brandon had been the one to chat him up, getting all the inside info on the team without making it too obvious that he was fishing for info on his fantasy man. Ultimately, after some prodding and sweet talk, the guy agreed to get Brandon some face time with his fantasy man...but only if Mr. Front Office could snag some alone time with Jason.

Brandon had felt bad about essentially pimping out his friend, but desperate times called for desperate action. And it had worked. It had all led to this. Brandon was now standing with only a door between him and the man he'd lusted after for longer than he could remember. Unfortunately for Jason, it had led to HIM having to have sex with Mr. Front Office in order to land the coveted press pass for Brandon.

Finally, remembering the confident and self-assured man he was, Brandon brought his other hand up and rapped his knuckle on the door. He was more than ready for this!

"Come!" came the familiar-sounding deep voice from the other side of the door.

"If everything goes according to plan, we both will be by the time I walk out of here!" Brandon muttered to himself before gripping the handle tightly, turning it, and pushing the door open.

When he stepped through the door, he found himself in a large, brightly lit office with white boards on two of the walls that had sticky notes stuck to them and what looked to be plays drawn up on them. There were also file cabinets, assorted uniform jerseys, a couple of lockers, and large round table for meetings. Lastly, Brandon's gaze rested on a big desk where HE sat, looking at what looked to be a tablet. He looked up, smiled at Brandon and set the pad down. He rose to his feet and walked around the desk to shake Brandon's hand...a tight grip, Brandon noted happily. "Josh Harding," the man said jovially.

For a couple seconds Brandon didn't respond, distracted and overcome by the raw sexuality that wafted off of him. Quickly, he snapped out of it and shook the coach's hand. "Brandon Davies."

"Nice to meet you, Brandon!"

"Likewise, Coach!"

Harding clapped his hand on Brandon's shoulder, causing his cock to start growing right away. "My dad's Coach Harding. And weirdly enough, my little brother makes his kids to call him Coach Harding. Call me Josh."

"Okay...Josh!"

For the next five minutes, the two men shot the shit. Harding was every bit the type of man Brandon had hoped he'd be: kind, personable, friendly, and eager to talk sports. He'd subtly flirted with the 59-year old, but it seemed as if the man was completely oblivious to any of the moves Brandon was trying to make. In the countless number of fantasies he'd had over the years, this had always gone so smoothly. Casual conversation segued seamlessly into the best sex of Brandon's life. He was quickly finding out that real life wasn't quite so simple.

"I'm sorry, Brandon. I've had so many interviews today that they're all starting to blur together. What outlet did you say you're with?"

"I didn't," Brandon replied. This was the moment of truth. He'd heard stories about Harding's past attitudes. But he'd also heard how the man's viewpoints had evolved over the years. He hoped the man would continue to impress by how he responded to what Brandon would say next. He remembered the line he and Jason had cooked-up and fed to Mr. Front Office about who Brandon "worked for" in order to snag the face-to-face meeting. Brandon inhaled deeply and prayed Josh Harding wouldn't disappoint him. "I'm with Outsports.com."

For a few moments, Harding was silent. Then, his eyes wide and a sheepish look on his face, he simply said, "Oh. I see. Okay. Uhhh..." Then he looked down at his fidgeting fingers.

Brandon got the picture -- or thought he did -- pretty quickly. "If that's a problem, we don't have to do this. I can go."

He was halfway out of his chair when the coach's voice stopped him. "No. Don't go." Brandon looked at the Coach with his hand outstretched. "Please. Sit back down." Brandon was struck by the warm smile on the coach's face.

Brandon did as asked and was tentatively happy that maybe the older man was about to pleasantly surprise him. "Thanks, Coa... I mean, Josh. I have to admit though, I'm confused."

Josh smiled. "I'm sorry. That's my fault. First of all, I'm at the end of a VERY long day. Secondly, my surprise IS about who you work for, but not for the reason you might think. Like too many of my fellow coaches, I haven't had the best public track record when it comes to gay-related issues. My views changed a long time ago, but my previous reputation has preceded me enough that no gay sports outfits have wanted to interview me. I have to say I'm stunned you're here."

Thinking quickly on his feet, Brandon covered, trying to sound official. "Well, uh... At Outsports, we're always interested in giving people a second chance. We understand that individual attitudes and viewpoints change and evolve over time. I'm glad you're willing to meet with me."

"And I'm glad you and your outfit are willing to do the same for me," Josh replied, shooting Brandon that megawatt smile that usually made him swoon with desire when he saw it on TV.

With that, Brandon whipped it out of his pants...the voice recorder he'd brought along with him as a prop to look like an actual reporter. If this whole thing went south, at the very least maybe he'd have a voice recording of the coach to keep as a memento. Over the next ten minutes or so, the two men conducted an actual interview. The night before, Brandon had come up with a set of questions to ask, counting that somehow the opportunity to segue into sexual contact would present itself. But he didn't want to seem like an amateur and raise Harding's suspicions.

They talked about the playoffs, the team's early exit yet again, plans for next season, free agency, the draft and a few other related topics. Brandon was well aware that the 45-minute max window of time the young PR rep mentioned earlier would be coming up in roughly another half an hour. Feeling like there was a timer clicking down in his head, Brandon started to get anxious. In his fantasies, the transition to sex just seemed to...happen. In real life, he was having a hard time figuring out how to get he and Harding there. If the man were gay, it would be easy. Brandon considered himself to be pretty good at pulling willing ass. But he had no game when it came to straight men and nowhere was that more obvious than this moment.

Now passing 15 minutes into the time he'd been allotted and quickly approaching the point where even if Harding was suddenly magically up for fooling around, there wouldn't be enough time to do anything worthwhile, things changed. They'd motored right on through all of the questions Brandon had prepared, so things were about to get awfully awkward. It was then that the hunky older coach posed an unexpected one out of the blue. "Brandon, do you mind if I ask you a question? Uh... Off the record, I mean."

"Sure," Brandon said, unsure of where exactly this was going.

"What's it like?"

"You mean working at Outsports? It's, uh, interesting. Fun. Rewarding too, I suppose."

Josh brought his hand up to rub the back of his head and winced. "That's great. But that's not what I was asking. When I asked what it's like, I was referring to being with a guy...you know...in bed."

Things just got interesting! If he wasn't nervous about scaring the guy off, Brandon would've arched his eyebrow, flipped into Casanova mode, and turned on the charm. But he knew he had to play this just right to reel in a man who was probably as skittish as Josh Harding or when he pulled his line out of the water, the hook would be empty.

Trying to seem as innocuous as the guy next door, Brandon leaned back in his chair and smiled good-naturedly. "I like it...a lot, actually. Then again, I'm a gold-star gay, so I don't really have anything to compare it to."

"Gold-star gay?" Harding looked confused.

"Oh, sorry. A gold-star gay is a gay man who's never had sex with a woman."

Coach grinned. "I'm learning a lot of new things here!"

"Hopefully the first of many new things you'll let me teach you," Brandon had to rein himself in from saying out loud. Instead, sensing `blood' in the water, he asked, "You find yourself being curious about the lifestyle, Josh?"

"Maybe a little bit," Josh hedged. Brandon didn't quite believe it when the man quickly added, "strictly from the perspective of wanting to know more about how other people live their lives. I studied anthropology in college."

"I see," Brandon mused, realizing that time was quickly slipping away. He sensed Harding was ripe for the picking, but he needed to move things along more quickly somehow without scaring the man off.

"I'm sure you know this about me from doing your research as a reporter, but I grew up going to Catholic school and we all know how the Church feels about homosexuality. So, I didn't really have a lot of exposure to gay people."

Brandon chuckled. "I don't know, Josh. Some of the kinkiest guys I've had sex with in my time have been former Catholic school students. I bet you knew more gay men when you were growing up than you realize."

`You may be more on the money than you know. That change or evolution -- whatever you want to call it -- in attitude several years back... It was because I found out that a couple of really good friends that I've known most of my life had come out. It made me start to see things in a new way."

"They say with anything that's scary, unfamiliar, or foreign, when you find out someone you know is involved with it, it can change your mind about it."

"I guess that's what happened with me. It made me start to wonder..."

The coach looked like he wanted to say more, but it was as if he couldn't bring himself to say it. Brandon had an idea where this was going and felt like pinching himself. Now he felt like maybe he was finally in the driver's seat. "Forgive me for assuming that I know how you're wanting to finish that sentence." He looked the older man in the eyes, hoping to convey a mix of sincerity, empathy, and lust. "But I'll just say if there's anything you want to know or experience, I'm willing to help out."

For a few moments, Harding sat there behind his desk looking across at Brandon. Brandon recognized the look in the man's eyes: curiosity, sure. But also a not miniscule amount of horniness and desire. Finally, the coach spoke. "You seem like a nice guy, Brandon. It must seem so strange that the conversation has gone in this direction. It's probably not what you were expecting when you walked into my office a short time ago."

"Expected? No. Hoped for? O-ho yeah!" Brandon thought to himself before sounding more conciliatory out loud. "It isn't. But I'm always grateful to come across someone who's interested in learning." Fixing his eyes directly on the longtime object of his lust, Brandon continued. "And I'm a really good teacher. Patient, gentle. I promise."

Harding chuckled softly, blushed, and averted his eyes down to his desktop. "I should be having this conversation...doing this...with a closer buddy. But, there are some things you can't imagine talking about or doing with your friends, you know?"

Thinking back to his text exchange with Jason earlier, Brandon curled his lips into a smile of his own. "Trust me. I know exactly what you're talking about, Josh."

His face still communicating tension and uncertainty, Coach fidgeted with his fingers. "So, uh... Let's say you were to help me experience what I've been wondering about... How would that go?"

"Got him!" Brandon's inner monologue screamed out triumphantly. "Dreams really do come true!" He had to be careful not to appear too eager, though. "We can go as slow as you want. Do as much or as little as you want. No pressure. Seriously. I mean...I know how to show a guy a good time. But I know how to be respectful and not be pushy."

"Wow..." Coach mused. Brandon noticed his posture stiffen a little. "This is happening, isn't it?"

"I think it is..." Brandon grinned, feeling enthusiastic at the idea of a fantasy he'd had for at least 20 years on the verge of actually happening right here, right now. He scooted his chair back from the desk. If this were another gay man he was trying to seduce, his first move would be to spread his legs wide and let Coach see just how fuckin' hard and ready for it he was right now. But if he didn't want to scare the married man off, he needed to be more subtle. "Why don't you come around here and lean against the desk?" he encouraged.

Harding's eyes widened and he blushed. "Uh... Maybe not the best idea right now."

Suddenly, seeing the coach's posture stiffen a moment ago made sense. It wasn't tension. "It's okay, bud," Brandon encouraged. "In a proper setting, what you've got going on wouldn't exactly be appropriate. But right now, I'm more than interested in it...and flattered as hell."

The older man beamed from ear to ear. "Okay, then... But first, let me take care of something."

Brandon watched as the coach rolled his chair over and grabbed a laminated sheet of paper off of a stack, got up, and walked over to the door. Over his shoulder, he called back to Brandon. "I'm going to lock the door so no one barges in, but I want to put this sign up to make extra sure no one interrupts us by trying the doorknob."

"What does it say? `If this office is a-rockin' don't come a-knockin'?" Brandon teased as the coach opened the door, and put the sign out.

Josh laughed. "No. It just says that there's a meeting in progress and not to disturb. By the way, just so you know. I have a family event that I can't miss. I'm on a tight schedule. I hope that's okay."

"It's okay," Brandon said as the coach returned to the desk and stood in front of him before leaning against the desktop. Brandon looked him in the eyes as he spoke. "The kid from your PR staff who brought me to your office gave me a heads up about that."

"I'm sorry, man. I'm sure you like taking your time. And honestly, given the circumstances, I wish we had more time."

"No worries," Brandon said reassuringly. "I can be fast and still make sure a good time is had by all."

Not knowing what his touch would do to the man roughly ten years his junior, Coach reached out to place his hand on Brandon's shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it, man. And just so you know -- as odd as it may seem for me to say this since I haven't even known you an hour -- I trust you to do right by me."

"Thanks, Josh, I..." Brandon had been looking at Harding's face -- what's appropriate to do when you're having a conversation with someone. But as he spoke, his eyes diverted forward instead of upward and he caught sight of the bulge in the coach's sweatpants, making him immediately lose his train of thought.

"You okay, man?" Harding asked. He wasn't a dummy. He saw exactly where the reporter's eyes were looking and it made him smile with pride inwardly to know that the obviously experienced gay man liked what he saw.

"Wow..." was all that Brandon could manage to say.

"I take it you like what you see?"

"Like is an understatement." Brandon started to reach but stopped himself. He looked up to see an adorable boyish grin on the 59-year old's face and the kind and lusty eyes looking at him. "Do you mind if I...?"

"Go ahead, man. Do whatever you want to do."

Brandon involuntarily licked his lips and then chuckled. "You may end up regretting that you just said that."

He reached out with both hands and touched the outside of each leg and slowly ran them up, feeling the musculature of his hips until he reached the man's waist. He looked up again, pleading in his eyes. Sensing what Brandon was wordlessly asking for permission for, he nodded his head slowly...his own excitement rising, as made apparent by that growing bulge that lay before Brandon.

He stuck the index finger of his right hand in the waistband of the sweats. Before dragging it down, he brought his left hand forward and gently massaged the bulge, feeling the heat and power of it beneath the fabric. Above him, he heard the older man inhale sharply and a slight moan escape his lips. For his part, a flurry of emotion was flowing within Brandon...a flurry that he was working hard to keep in check. He was thisclose to something he'd dreamed of for years.

After a few moments, he drifted his left hand over and slipped his other index finger into the opposite side of the pants. He looked back up at the coach, expectation and lust on the older man's face. Certain that running away was the last thing Josh Harding would do, Brandon finally felt like he was able to be more of the man he normally was in situations like this. He smirked. "Don't worry, bud," he said confidently. "You're gonna love this. I guarantee it." With that, he began pulling the man's pants and underwear down in one fell swoop.

After the sweats and underwear pooled at his ankles, the coach stepped out of them and Brandon finally got a full, unobstructed view of what he had to offer. In porn and in fantasy, men always imagined their sexual partners having gigantic cocks of almost impossible proportions. He had to admit maybe a time or two he'd assigned those porny dimensions to Harding. But he was also a realist. He wasn't expecting a footlong cock and oversized balls.

What he got though, was a purely perfect genital area. Already almost fully hard, the man looked to be just shy of eight inches long and the perfect half mushroom head for sucking. Although not overloaded to the point of being distended, his balls looked to be full to the brim and churning...a sure sign that -- like himself -- Josh had a lot of pent-up sexual energy that his wife obviously wasn't giving a release for.

Brandon reached out and put his hand on Harding's hip and looked up to find the man looking down at him, obviously measuring Brandon's reaction to his manhood. "So...? What's the verdict? Are you going to be able to work with what I've got?" he asked, grinning from ear to ear.

Brandon ran his hand upward until his fingers were halfway under the hem of the coach's shirt. "Buddy, it's going to be more of an honor than you know to work with what you've got. You mind if I sample the goods?"

Josh reached down to rest his hand on Brandon's shoulder. "Go right ahead, man. I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

His right hand trembling in anticipation, Brandon reached up and gripped the base of the cock he'd dreamed and fantasized about for years, hardly believing this was really happening. He was gratified and spurred on to go further when -- upon his touch -- the 59-year old's cock jerked.

Brandon looked up into Josh's eyes and saw an apologetic expression, there. "Sorry. I should've warned you. It's been a few weeks. I may not last long...as you might have guessed by how Little Josh reacted to your touch."

"It's okay, bud. I understand. I know I said I'd go as slow as you want, but I hope you don't mind if I don't stand on ceremony much longer. I want to enjoy this before you end up shooting your load."

Josh's hand drifted up and gripped the side of Brandon's neck in an oddly supportive and emotional way. Brandon knew in that moment that this wasn't just some sort of BJ to get off. The coach was connected and it drove Brandon wild with lust. Giving the older man's cock a few slow strokes to just enjoy feeling it hand actually having it in his grasp was more of a turn on than Brandon had expected. Before leaning in, he pulled his own shirt up. He was going to take it all the way off, but then wondered if that might freak Josh out. Instead, he pulled the front up and over his head, to hook it behind his neck so that his chest was exposed, but it remained on his body.

Finally, it was time to do something he'd never expected to actually do in real life. He leaned in and tentatively darted his tongue out along Harding's piss slit. He felt a small amount of liquid stream out onto its surface. Precum. Coach was right. He wasn't going to last long. After spending some time slowly laving his tongue around the head and along the shaft, he made sure to pay attention to the older man's balls. God, he could spend forever with his face buried in the area where his scrotum met this pelvic bone!

Before returning his attention to the task at hand, he ran his hand under the hem of Harding's shirt again...this time farther than he had before. "Josh, how'd you feel about losing the shirt?"

For a few moments, the coach just stood there, looking unsure if it was a good idea to do that. But finally he reached down to grab the hem and pulled it up and off of his body giving Brandon a full view. It was obvious that the guy was middle aged and his muscles weren't as defined as they may have been in the past...and maybe he had a little more padding in the middle than he'd used to, but Brandon was pleasantly surprised. Light salt and pepper hair covered his firm and meaty pecs down over his tummy and arms that were more muscular than he expected ran up to firm shoulders. "Wow..." Brandon said for what felt like the 300th time in the past half an hour.

"You like?" Josh questioned.

"Definitely! Love is more like it. You've got a great body. The type of body that turns me on like no other!"

Josh looked slightly uncomfortable with the praise, but went on to explain where it came from. "My guys keep me young. I can't lift too heavy at my age anymore and I don't run around listening to the music that they listen to, dress like they dress, or use the slang that they use. But they keep me young, keep me energetic, and keep me pushing to stay in shape."

Brandon ran his hand up and over the heaving chest and tweaked one of Josh's nipples without asking for permission first, causing the man's cock to respond and twitch in kind.

"You look real good, too," Josh remarked, causing Brandon to blush. He leaned back to give his sexual idol a better view.

"Thanks, bud." I only started being really dedicated at working out a couple years ago but I'm making progress...slowly but surely.

The coach reached down and felt along Brandon's shoulders. "It shows, man."

"Just for that, I'm going to give you a reward!" Brandon grasped the base of Josh's cock and leaned forward to take in the head. Over the next few minutes, he gradually sank deeper until he took Harding all the way to the hilt. He proceeded to teasingly go all the way down and pull all the way back...stopping to flick his tongue along the sensitive underside where the head and the shaft meet. It made him feel like a king to look up and see Josh with his head thrown back and his mouth hanging open, lost in the lust of the moment.

After edging Harding for as long as he could, he felt the man's body start to shake and tense up. There's no way he'd be able to stop and bring him back down from the edge again. Josh reached down to grip Brandon's shoulder with both hands and moaned loudly. "Oh fuuuuuuckkkk! I'm cumming, man. I'm about to cum!"

Seconds later, Brandon felt shot after shot after endless shot pulse into his mouth. He swallowed as fast as he could, but the load was too much for him to take all of it. He felt some of it stream out of both sides of his mouth. After what felt like more than a minute, the pulses slowed and eventually, the coach's cock had no more to offer.

The coach leaned back against the desk, exhaled, and reached up to wipe sweat from his brow. Brandon let the saliva-coated, softening cock fall from his lips and ran his hand up to feel the expanse of Harding's chest before standing up. "That was so amazing, Brandon. I've had a ton of blow jobs in my day, but none were as good as that."

Brandon grinned. "You were sucked off by women. When it comes to sucking dick, they're all thumbs. You want a good BJ, you come to a man. And if you want a grade-A BJ, you come to me!"

"I'll definitely remember that," Josh purred. For a moment, silence hung between them. Sensing there might be a moment happening, Brandon started to lean in, when Josh put his hand up against Brandon's chest to keep him from moving in closer. "Sorry, man. Don't think I'm ready for that yet. I hope you're not disappointed."

He WAS disappointed, but he also understood. Some men have to work up to kissing another guy and some never get there at all. Brandon smiled at the married man. "No worries. I know where you're coming from and it's okay with me." He still had something on his mind, though. He looked down at his still hard erection and back up at Josh. It was obvious Josh's eyes had followed his. "I know you've probably got to go soon. But I'm still hard."

"I see that," Josh replied with a lilt in his voice and stunned Brandon when he reached out to lightly grasp the shaft, almost making Brandon feel like shoot his load then and there.

"If you're up for it, there's something I'd really love to do to you with my cock. Like I said, I'll be gentle. Promise!"

Instantly, Josh knew what the younger man was getting at. His eyes widened and his body tensed up. Brandon knew immediately that he'd gone a step too far.

Hearing echoes of his own text banter with Jason earlier, Brandon saw the stern expression on Josh's face as he said, "That's not going to happen. We're not going there!"

"Understood." Admittedly, hearing and seeing that kind of reaction from Josh stung more than a little bit. But he tried not to let it show. Besides, he knew his own skills. If he got a shot at continued fun with this prominent coach, he was pretty certain he could eventually break down -- or at least climb over -- whatever walls were in his way.

Josh's face softened after seeing the disappointment on Brandon's face. "Hey... Sorry. I...I'm just not in the market for that kind of fun. But..." he reached out to fondle Brandon's raging boner again. "I could be persuaded to help you out with this."

"I'd like that a lot," Brandon blushed, assuming he was about to get a hand job. And as Josh sank to his knees and started stroking him -- perhaps a little clumsily -- he was thrilled just to have the man touching him that way.

He got the shock of his life when Harding leaned forward, stuck his tongue out and licked Brandon's cock from root to tip, making it jerk and start to uncontrollably leak precum. His knees felt week and buckled for a moment before he regained his balance. Josh pulled his head back and grasped Brandon's shaft. "You okay, man?"

Brandon steadied himself on the chair. "Yeah. I'm good. I just didn't expect you'd do that. You said you didn't have much exposure to gay men growing up."

Josh grinned devilishly. "'Much' is the key word there. Besides... I said I went to Catholic school, I never said I was a choir boy. I've just been waaaay out of practice."

"Well, from the first swipe, it seems like you're taking back to it pretty nicely."

Josh winked. "Like riding a bike, my man! Like riding a bike..."

He leaned in again and started giving Brandon a BJ that was by no stretch of the imagination an expert job, but it was pretty damn good for a man who claims to have not had much gay sex experience. It was clumsy. But also, it was Josh Fuckin' Harding sucking on his crank. And for that reason alone, it was a perfect BJ. The topper was that when Brandon placed his hand on Coach's shoulder to warn him, he withdrew his mouth, but lay it right across his face so that the cumshot splattered all over it. It was the hottest thing Brandon had ever seen...until he saw Josh's face splattered with his own cum.

Brandon wanted to lean down and lick his cum off of Harding's face...wanted to use his fingers to scoop up his cum and feed it to Harding. But if coach had an aversion to kissing, being fed his own cum would probably ensure that Brandon wouldn't ever get anywhere close to him again.

As the two regained their composure, Josh was the first to speak. "Man, I gotta tell you... I didn't have that on my bingo card for how my day would end."

"I hope it was a good time," Brandon responded hopefully.

"Memorable is more like it. I haven't had sex like that in... I'm not going to date myself by saying how long ago it was, but it's been a long time ago. And I haven't had sex at all in months. So, yeah.... I think memorable definitely covers it."

"No sex at all in months?" Brandon scoffed. "Forgive me for saying so, but no man should have to endure that. And certainly no married man."

As the two men dressed, Josh did the honorable thing and tried to defend his wife's sexual appetite. "Things change in a marriage when you've been together a long time. You get older and you don't necessarily want it as often as you used to."

"I'm in my early 50s," Brandon countered. "I'd have it every day three or four times a day if I could. More if it was with..." He stopped himself before he said something that would weird the man out.

He caught sight of Harding blushing. Obviously, it was clear to the man how Brandon was going to finish the sentence. "Hey..." he said, deflecting the conversation. "It may be presumptuous of me to ask and probably unexpected, but how would you feel about getting together again sometime? I mean...if you're up for it, that is."

It probably didn't work, but Brandon tried not to appear too earnest. "That would be really great. I'd definitely be up for it!"

"Excellent," Josh said with a sexy smile as he grabbed his phone and worked it for a minute before handing it to Brandon. Josh had created a new Contact and he felt a little pang of guilt when he saw that Josh had labeled him as `Brandon (Outsports.com).' He'd have to eventually come clean about that...but not until he'd hooked Harding to the point that there's no way the man would think of cutting off contact. "Put your number in here and I'll reach out. I can't promise when it'll be and I can't promise how often it'll happen. But I'd love to have fun like this again."

"Me too," Brandon chirped as he handed Josh's phone back. "I'm honored that you trust me enough to want to...uh...spend time together again."

"Trust IS a part of it," Josh said with a sly smile as he patted Brandon on the back. He leaned in close and said in a low voice as if there were other people in the room. "Perfect blow jobs are a bigger part of it."

Brandon blushed, but also felt a rush of excitement and sexual energy. This couldn't really be happening. But it was! He was about to ask Harding for HIS contact info when Josh looked at his watch.

"Shit! My taillights should've been leaving the parking lot five minutes ago! I've got to wash up real quick and get going or my wife will have my ass. Sorry I've got to cut this short. You must feel like a hooker being shown the door after I've gotten my rocks off."

Brandon chuckled at the man's crude joke. "A little. But I get it." It was half on his mind to ask if he could join the man in the shower. But if he made it into the shower with a naked Josh Harding, the man might not make it to whatever family event he was going to. "I'll see myself out, Josh."

"Thanks," Josh nodded at Brandon and turned to head toward his private bathroom off of his office. "And thank you for everything else, Brandon. It was really great."

"Thank YOU. And hopefully will chat soon."

Without committing to anything, Josh gave him one last smile and then disappeared into the bathroom. With that, Brandon was out the door. He finally found his way through the maze of hallways and back out to the reception area and left his press badge with the lady that the PR kid had identified as Janine and made his way back to his car, feeling like he was a player who'd won the championship game.

As he drove home from the team's practice facility, Brandon felt a swirl of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he was walking on air and felt like he had enough energy flowing through him to take on the world. He'd just had a sexual rendezvous with the man of his dreams...something he'd been certain would never happen in real life. Not only that, but he'd swallowed the man's copious load and had his dick in Harding's mouth. That last part still blew his mind more than anything else.

Unexpectedly, Brandon also felt empty inside though. In his fantasies, he and Harding always fucked. It was beautiful, sexual, primal, and romantic as hell. And Harding always loved it. It made sense in real life that the man might have reservations about fucking. But something about the way he adamantly refused any assplay made Brandon think something deeper was going on. This wasn't just the nerves of an inexperienced man who wasn't ready to cross that line yet. Sure, the stud coach had taken Brandon's contact info and put it in his phone. But he was fairly certain he'd never hear from him...particularly if Coach decided to do some due diligence checking and discovered that Brandon didn't actually work for Outsports.com.

By the time he got back home, cleaned up, and plopped down on the sofa, he was feeling uncharacteristically unsure of himself...new territory for him. Brandon had gotten to a point in his life where he was now fairly comfortable in his own skin. He knew his appeal and how to draw in any man he wanted. Harding putting the brakes on anything beyond oral had thrown him for a loop.

The sound of his phone jarred him out of his own thoughts. It was Jason FaceTiming him. Not really in the mood to be pressured or teased about slutting out for his friend, he almost declined the call. Instead, he pressed the Accept button. He was surprised to see Jason in what appeared to be a hotel room. And although he couldn't see below his friend's shoulders, from the looks of things, Jason wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Hey!" Jason said excitedly. "I see you're back home. How'd it go? Did you get to do the dance with no pants?"

Brandon rolled his eyes. Jason had a way of putting things in the crassest terms sometimes. "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell."

"Thank god you're not a total gentleman when it comes to hitting the sheets!"

"I don't want to talk about it," Brandon pushed back.

"I know what that means. You chickened out. You were in the room with Harding and you couldn't close the deal."

"I didn't say that."

Jason's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. "So something DID happen. You DOG! Tell me more!"

"It was nice," Brandon demurred, still not wanting to divulge the whole story.

"Nice?! An old couple holding hands while they walk along a lake at sunset is nice. This was you getting alone time with Josh Fuckin' Harding! Please tell me it was more than nice!"

Brandon sighed. He wasn't ready to go into the gory details yet...for Jason to know that Brandon's normal sexual confidence had resulted in partial failure. "Okay then. It was more than nice."

"C'mon man! Don't hold out on me!"

"Like I said before, I don't want to talk about it right now," Brandon decided to divert the conversation. "By the way, where in the hell are you?"

Jason looked over his shoulder. "I'm in a hotel room."

"I can see that, doofus! I mean WHY are you in a hotel room? Don't tell me Mr. Front Office guilt tripped you into spending more time with him!" Out of view of the phone camera, Brandon crossed his fingers that this wasn't the case. The last thing he needed was his buddy having more ammo to try and cajole Brandon into bending over and busting it open for him.

"I know you're trying to change the subject, but because I'm so frickin' thrilled and I just HAVE to tell someone, I'm going to allow you to redirect me for now. I happened to run into someone not long after you and I finished texting earlier today."

"That's cool, bud. After having to deal with Mr. Front Office and his micro dick, I'm glad you found something better."

"It's more than cool, man. The officials who are going to call the scrimmage tomorrow between Harding's team and that other team were at the practice facility today to scope out the field. I was walking while I was trying to put away my phone and literally ran into the guy. You know I love a guy in zebra stripes, so I chatted him up. Things got flirty. Then things got REALLY flirty. Next thing I know, I'm back at the guy's hotel room where things went from flirty to sexy pretty fast. Let's just say instant karma favored me after what I had to go through to help you out."

"Dude! You're like, the luckiest guy I know. It's not every day someone randomly runs across someone who's actually in a position to bring one of their biggest fetishes to life. Who'd you hook?"

"I really shouldn't say..." Jason hedged, accompanied by a facial expression that said he was absolutely going to give up the guy's identity.

"You can't leave me hanging, bud. C'mon. Spill it!"

"Let's do it this way," Jason replied. Brandon could see Jason was moving through the suite. Out of the camera shot, he heard a noise. Suddenly, the phone swiveled around and Brandon could tell he was now looking at the inside of a closet. Among the few shirts and slacks that were hanging up, he saw two familiar-looking black and white striped NFL official shirts. Jason brought the camera close to the sleeve of one of the shirts and Brandon was able to make out the position and uniform number.

"R-010?" The camera panned back to Jason's face, which now sported a shit-eating grin. Brandon now knew exactly whose hotel room his buddy was in. "You lucky fucker! You've been fucking around all afternoon with Mack Carmichael!"

Jason simply nodded with a smile like a cat that ate the canary. Then he held up three fingers and silently mouthed the words, "Three times!"

"Fuck!" Brandon muttered. He was genuinely proud of his buddy for snagging the guy who was literally #1 on his fantasy fuck list. But he was also insanely jealous. Sure, his own time with Harding had been great, but it hadn't exactly lived up to all of his dreams...and the studly coach certainly hadn't gone 3-for-3.

"I don't want to judge, but his wife must only put out once in a blue moon, if at all. The man was like a fuckin' wildcat in bed. Like he had all this pent-up sexual energy he needed to let loose. Listen, I'd love to chat more, but there's a hot 57-year old ref in the bathroom, showering right now and I reeeaalllly want to join him and see if I can coax Round 4 into happening."

"Go get your man, bud," Brandon couldn't help himself from grinning.

"Remember, I'm out of town starting tomorrow for a whole week on business. Do you want me to come by your place so we can stay up all night doing each other's hair, giving each other facials, pop a few Bon-Bons, and you can finally tell me why you're being so damn evasive with the facts about your sexy time with Coach Hot Stuff?"

"Nah, man. I'm good. We'll talk later on. Sometime after you're back, I'm sure."

"Good," Jason winked. "Because there's no way I'm leaving this hotel room until I absolutely have to. If possible, not until I have to leave for the airport! I want to wake up being spooned so I can say that I got to feel Carmichael's morning wood pressing into my hip."

"Jesus, man. I'll be sending you good vibes on making that one happen! Have a good trip."

"Thanks, man. Talk with you later. And whatever's going on in that brain of yours, keep a stiff upper lip. And if you can't do that, keep a stiff dick."

Brandon laughed. "I always do! You know me and my sex drive, bud. Talk later!"

As Jason held up three fingers and mouthed "Three times!" again, the screen disappeared and the FaceTime ended.

Jason wasn't wrong. Brandon looked down to see his hard on poking up in his sweats. Just the idea of Jason in a hotel room with Mack Carmichael was enough to get him going. Carmichael wasn't exactly at the top of Brandon's hot ref list, but he couldn't deny the man was one hot fucker. And vicariously, he was thrilled for Jason.

Maybe it was the rush of getting that good news and thinking about Jason and Carmichael fucking, but Brandon was starting to put his time with Harding in a more positive light. Sure, they'd only swapped BJs and Josh had been adamant -- almost stridently so -- that there'd be no anal action, but oral was way more than Brandon thought would actually happen with the devoutly religious family man. And the guy had taken Brandon's contact info -- although he'd forgotten to ask Harding for his in return. That had to mean the coach intended to reach out at some point. Maybe this was the slow start to something more.

As if the universe was reading his thoughts, Brandon heard his phone buzz. He picked it up and saw that there was a text from a number he didn't recognize. He was about to ignore it, figuring it was a spam text. That is, until he saw the first few words in the message preview. "Hey, Brandon. It's Coach Harding..."

Immediately, he clicked in to view the whole message, completely glossing over the ominous sign that the man who had earlier asked Brandon to call him Josh had just referred to himself as Coach Harding. As he read the whole message, his heart sank and all of the positivity he'd banked after his FaceTime with Jason evaporated:

"Hey, Brandon. It's Coach Harding. I know we didn't make definite plans to connect again, but I may have led you on when I took your contact info. I've thought about it some more and don't think it would be a good idea for us to get together again. Thanks for the time earlier today. Take care."

On the one hand, it was a gut punch. But on the other hand, it was just plain weird. The coach didn't HAVE to text him. He knew that Brandon didn't have his contact info, so it wasn't as if Brandon could reach out. Something felt off. But honestly, he was already over feeling down in the dumps about it. He set the phone back down on the end table next to the sofa, flipped on the TV, and vowed to drown out negative thoughts by watching some of the Sweet Sixteen March Madness coverage.

The next morning, Brandon had gotten up, fixed some breakfast, and was reading the newspaper on his tablet while trying not to wallow in self-pity when his phone rang. Grinning to himself, he answered. "Jeez, Jason! I don't think I've talked to you as much in the several years we've known each other as I've talked to you over the past three days. Aren't you supposed to be catching a plane to the west coast?"

"I'm at the airport now," came his friend's voice through the phone. "They're about to call my flight for boarding, but before I get on the plane, I wanted to take one more shot at getting you to give up the deets on your time with J.H. yesterday."

"You're like a dog with a bone about this, aren't you?"

"How appropriate that you used the word bone, man. I've got a several hours' flight ahead of me, a seat in First Class, and a blanket I've bought to cover myself with so that I can be discreet rather than going into the icky plane bathroom to beat my meat. How about you regale me with some hot and heavy material I can use on the flight?"

"Jesus you're a hornball..."

"Don't act all scandalized. You're ten times the hornball I am!"

"Never said I wasn't, bud. Actually, I'm proud that you're going to attempt to beat off in front of the other passengers. I'm only sorry I can't give you any material to use."

"Can't? Or won't?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, Jason, because you're a friend. But could you please fuck off and stop pestering me about yesterday?"

"Damn, man... Bite my head off why don't you! What crawled up your butt this morning?"

"Look, here's what I can tell you. Yesterday with Harding was nice, but didn't go farther than a mutual blowie. He took my contact info, so I thought there might be room to make more happen. Instead, after I FaceTimed with you, he texted me and gave me the total brush off."

"Fuck, dude. Now I get it. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be pushy..."

"It's all good, Jas..."

"No. It's not. I wish to fuck I wasn't going out of town on business. We could be going out to get some drinks and hang out or something. Anything to take your mind off of that fuckwad."

"It's better this way. I'd be terrible company. I'll be fine. I'm not right now, but I will be."

"Okay. I'll check in with you during the week if I can and I'll drop by when I'm back home."

"Check in with me?" Brandon chastised his friend mockingly. "Who are you, my mother?"

"I know you're only being mean to me because you're pouting about J.H. Listen, I've got to go. They've just announced last call for boarding my flight. I gotta run! I'll talk with you soon."

"Okay, bud. Have a good trip."

"Thanks, man. And take care, okay?"

The rest of the week flew by, flooded by a busier than expected workload, time spent at the gym and jogging, and even settling in to get reacquainted with a few vintage porn clips that had been favorites of his when he was 20 years younger. By the time the weekend arrived, Brandon was practically over the disappointment over things not going any further with Josh...or, he thought he was over it. That all changed when his phone buzzed along about 2:30 on Saturday afternoon. It was a text from Harding!

"Hey. Been thinking a lot about our time together. You free this evening?"

Brandon felt his heart skip a beat and excitement creep in...something he tried to tamp down. He shouldn't be this easy. But, dammit! It was Josh Fuckin' Harding! "Hey. Yep. I'm free," he typed into his phone. "But I thought it wasn't a good idea for us to get together again."

After a few moments came the response: "I know that's what I said, but I've been doing a lot of thinking. I wasn't fair to you or to me. I owe you an explanation. I know I don't have the right to ask, but I'd appreciate it if you'd be willing to hear me out in person."

"Fair enough," Brandon wrote back. "I'd like to hear what you've got to say." After he hit Send, he said out loud, "and strip you naked and have my way with you!"

"Great!" read Harding's response. "That means a lot to me."

"Let me know what time you want to meet and I can head out to the practice facility."

"Not at the facility," Josh wrote back, instead giving Brandon the name of one of the ritziest hotels in the city. "I'm in Room 1204. I've got a couple meetings to get out of the way then I'm free. Would 5 o'clock work for you? We can order in room service and talk."

"Sounds good. See you then!" Brandon wrote back, beaming from ear to ear.