A couple of requests and a few urges of my own have brought on the continuation of this story. If you have ideas about where you'd like to see this go in the future, or if there are special things you'd like to see happen, drop me a line and let me know. I have ideas now for at least two more chapters, but I'm getting ready to take a trip, and I'm not sure when they might appear. thanks for reading my stuff and a very special thanks to those of you who have taken the time to drop me a note. Jon
This work is copyrighted by the author and may not be used without his express permission. Private persons and no others are given permission to have one (1) electronic and/or one (1) printed copy of this work. ASSGM and Nifty are given permission to archive this work.
All the usual disclaimers that are usually usual apply here. This is a work of fiction involving sex acts between consenting persons of various conditions of life. If you can't handle that or if you are not of the legal age or mindset, go no further but remove this material from your possession forthwith.
If you have faggot sensitivity, you ought not read this story. I'd really like to hear from some of you with either positive or negative comments. I have no idea really if I'm bringing any of you pleasure or what it is you'd like me to write about. I only hear from a few people on each story and that's not much feedback for all the work I put into writing these. I'd really like to hear from you so I'll have some idea how I'm doing. Thanks.
I used two returns between paragraphs to simplify formatting for you.
Try to keep in mind that while 42 is the meaning of life, it is not the only possible solution. Jon
No Running
Chapter 2
Shower Time
Coach held me up against the shower wall while he got a shower started and the temperature adjusted. Then he pulled me under the spray with him and held me. I was embarrassed at first, touching another man like this, but he just held me and suddenly I was hugging him as hard as I could and bawling all over his naked shoulder. He just held me and let me cry until I was all cried out.
When I finally quieted down, he lifted a hand from my back and started stroking the hair on the back of my head, really gently, like he really cared about me. I was getting really embarrassed, having made such a fool of myself and acting like such a baby. Coach just pulled my head back by the hair, looked me right in the eye and asked, "You okay now, Son?"
All I could do was nod my head "Yes," and look embarrassed. He just got a little smile on his face and leaned forward and gave me a pecking little kiss on the cheek. Then he gave me a big hug which I returned as best I could.
Coach turned and picked up a bar of soap and started to wash me just as if I were his boy and he'd been washing me just like my real daddy had right up to the time he was killed. Remembering that made me sad, but Coach was making me feel too good for me to start crying again. Coach washed me everywhere just like I was his little boy. He even washed down the crack of my ass and made sure that my butthole was "sparkley clean", as my Daddy used to say. Coach washed my legs and feet and then took his time carefully and thoroughly washing my genitals. That felt so good all I could do was spread my legs, lean up against the cool tile wall and moan. Coach had me nice and hard again when he finally pulled me back into the shower spray and rinsed the soap completely off my body. Then he handed me the bar of soap and turned his back to me.
Almost afraid to touch this powerfully built older man, I started soaping up his back. Coach arched his back and moaned, "Ohhhh! That feels good!" I got his whole back soaped up and put the bar of soap back in the tray. Starting back up at Coach's shoulders I started washing/massaging him. I probed my thumbs deep into his back muscles and Coach moaned deeply again. I started using more and more pressure, rocking Coach on his feet. He took a step forward and "spread 'em", just as if I were a cop. Hands on the wall, feet spread, runnels of soap suds running down across his back, down his flat flanks and muscularly curved butt. God he was beautiful! I moved up behind him, but couldn't get too close for fear that my swollen member would poke him in the ass. I started working on his back again and that made it better because my dick got totally erect and, like young men's do, mine stood up and curved right up against my belly.
The pain in my ass and my horny dick were completely forgotten as I worked on coaches back. I couldn't believe that a grown man was letting me touch him like this. Trusting me just like my father had. Letting me explore and satisfy my curiosity just like my father had. It took forever and forever to wash the broad expanses of Coach's muscular back and I never wanted being able to touch him to end. I washed under his arms and felt their muscular weight as I slid my arms through and washed his chest and belly and up around and behind his neck. At the same time, the closer I got to his narrow waist, and the bulge of butt and crisp little pubic patch beneath it, the more trepidacious I got. I wanted nothing more than to run my hands over the slick curves of the gorgeous butt teasing my eyes. I was terrified of doing anything that would cause this man to reject me. The quandary had me so tied up inside that I was about to pass out from lack of oxygen.
Coach must have noticed my hesitation and indecision. He reached behind himself and took hold of my wrist. He wiped my hand all over the cheek of my ass and even pushed a couple of my fingers down into his crack and very noticeably over the deeply hidden pucker. My erection was throbbing and it felt like the blood pressure in my head was going to explode my brains. "Wash me like I washed you, Son. Just do it!"
I just about came right then and there. I let my other hand slide down onto the opposite cheek of Coach's ass and he let go of my wrist and put his hand back up on the wall. I couldn't believe how absolutely magnificent his ass felt in my hands. Solid. Meaty. Hard and soft all at the same time. I went down on my knees to get better access and clenched both tight mounds in my hands until the skin showed white. Coach groaned and slowly wiggled his butt back harder into my grip. I didn't need any more confirmation than that. I sort of lost it about then. I mean, it's like I blanked out or something. I got so involved in washing my new coach that my brain sort of got all foggy. I can remember running my hands up and down the dark crack of his ass and being amazed that he would not only let me do that, but seemed to really enjoy the feeling. I touched his pucker a little bit and he pushed his butt back to give me better access. I was still holding back a little so he told me exactly how to use my fingers to wash out his hole. Left finger and then right finger entered him and swished around, cleaning him real good. I didn't want the soap burning his tender insides, so I leaned to the side and let the shower spray fill my mouth with warm water. Holding his hole open with two fingers and pursing my lips, I emitted a stream of water that finished the job of cleaning out his hole.
Coach relaxed and let his hole really open up for me and I spurted four or five mouthfuls of water into his crevice and hole. It was so beautiful. I wanted to lean forward and kiss the tight little pink mouth, but didn't have the guts. I remember washing his feet and him using his feet to tease my genitals. At one point I had his foot holding my cock and balls down to the cool tile floor as I ran both hands up and down his lower leg as if I were jacking off some huge cock that erupted from my weighted groin. A thick lather built up as my hands wandered purposefully all over his hairless legs until my fingers entangled themselves in the wet strands of almost invisible blond thatch. As if drawn by a magnet I rose from my haunches up onto my knees, pulling my partially flaccid organs from under Coach's foot as I ascended.
Leaning my head against a hard muscled thigh, I wrapped my arm around the back of Coach's legs as my good right hand wonderingly explored Coach's breeding equipment. Engrossed as I was in investigating the wonder before me, I was still aware of Coach looking down at me, a small smile of approval beaming down at me like a benediction. My Father had let me touch him there, but that was just a little kid wanting to know why his was so much larger than mine. Coach also had a foreskin, which neither my father nor myself had. Coach's was really nice. It had hung down a bit over the head of his cock when it was soft and free- swinging, leaving a nicely rounded opening for his pee to flow through. Now that Coach was rampantly erect his foreskin had pulled back until it left a good half-inch of nose and man-mouth exposed.
Watching the super-masculine rod duck and weave and bob around, I laved coach's totally hairless balls in their translucently pellucid sack and all he did was spread his legs a bit further apart to give me better access to his hanging testicles, trusting me to not hurt him and allowing me free rein to satisfy my curiosity.
My hand eventually roved northwards, my fingers being entrapped by his pubic hair as I used my short fingernails to scratch- clean the skin they so poorly hid. My scratching started Coach moaning again as he thrust his pubes forward, telling me to scratch harder and to satisfy his need for pubic pleasure. Rarely does a man get a chance to scratch another man where it itches, but from personal experience I knew exactly how to satisfy that need.
My hand eventually moved outwards and began investigating the thick tube that jutted horizontally and powerfully from the coach's crotch. The feel of the heated rod immediately set my hand in motion, moving the wonderfully loose and plentiful skin rising up and spiraling down the shaft. I moved more in front of Coach and my other hand joined its mate twisting oppositely as both eager fists cojointly milked the now throbbing shaft. I looked up at Coach to see if what I was doing was okay, and I guess it must have been because he had his head tilted back and both his hands were busy playing with his pecs.
The movements of my hands started pulling back on Coach's foreskin and I was fixated by the sight. How beautiful! Totally fucking awesome! Carefully, using just my fingertips, I moved the snug skin around. Watching how it opened up to let the nose peek through, glistening drops of sparkling clear man juice glinting in the sunlight from the high gym windows. The unbelievable way the foreskin opened up and rolled back over the wide flare of this mans broad cockhead. the manly odor that swelled the lining of my nose with its inflammatory scent. The way the skin suddenly moved behind the swollen flare, releasing bursts of man scent. I was totally enthralled by the way I could move the firm sheath back and forth, first covering the battering rams head and then exposing the flushed pink knob as the whole organ throbbed and swelled even larger.
Coach began thrusting his hips at me and I went along with his obvious need by firming up my double-handed grip and jacking his foreskin back and forth over the turgid head of his iron hard pussy nail. Coach suddenly hammered his loins forward and a huge spurt of viscid whiteness splattered my face. I leaned off to the side, keeping my solid grip on the ejaculating nozzle, and watched totally fascinated by the swelling and then jumping throb as stream after stream became airborne, only to splatter on the tile floor and wash away towards the floor drain. My cock was throbbing so hard between my legs that it really hurt. I couldn't take my hands off of coach, even if my life depended upon it, so I tried to give myself relief by fucking the steamy air.
Coach collapsed back against the wall and put his hand on my head, holding the pulsing arteries swollen across my forehead against his warm thigh. One of his strong, manly hands smoothed my wet hair down and his other hand slicked his cum off of my face. I reached down to take care of my own jerking need but Coach reached down and slipped his hands into my armpits and lifted me to my feet.
Tilting my head back with his cupped hand so that I had to look directly into his face, Coach said, "You are in training now! You don't cum unless I give you permission. Do you understand?"
Flushfaced with embarrassment and need, I nodded my head and said, "Yes, Sir."
"I know it's going to be hard, but I mean it! If you want to be on my team, you will do EXACTLY what I tell you to do. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Okay! I'll trust you to do as I say."
With that, Coach moved me back under the shower spray and we rinsed each other off, quite thoroughly. Coach turned me to face the spray and then moved off to the side. "Stand right there and don't move!" With that, he turned off the hot water and what felt like an ice cold deluge of water poured over me until my poor little wiener deflated and then shrank up and tried to pull back inside of my body to hide from the cold water. Once my dick was little more than a nubbin, Coach turned off the water. Pushing on my shoulder to get me started, he slapped my ass and told me to, "Get dried off and dressed and get out of here!" I started to panic, but he continued, "I want you back here at 6 AM Saturday morning for some special training."
Moving towards my locker, I smiled and said, "Yes, SIR!"
---EOF---