Survivor was created by Mark Burnett and is produced by Castaway Productions. This is a work of fiction and makes no assumptions on the true sexuality of the players.
Author's Note: This series will likely be released on a weekly basis. I'll take a look at a male relationship (be they friends or enemies) and try to work out a scenario for them. This week's is mostly tension, cutting off before anything really exciting happens, but it ends better this way.
Send me an email if you'd like to request another pairing (from ANY season! I'd love to take requests of favourites and add them in during the series, so don't be shy.)
Survivor: Heroes vs Villains, episode 1
Ben "Coach" Wade didn't take attitude from anybody, even if they happened to be one of his idols. He was, at the end of the day, amazing. He had no qualms admitting it. He was like a god among men, a hero among thieves, and a saint among sinners.
He was also highly, highly delusional.
For the first few days of the game, his tribe had picked up on his supposed attraction to the black widow, Jerri Manthey. He had come to Survivor to win, not to find a girlfriends. They were just trying to throw him off his game, make him look weak--leading that charge was "Boston" Rob Mariano. He was a kid from up north, married, and had a new baby. In the years since he had last played Survivor, Rob had done a lot of growing up, but he was still the same person he once was.
Coach had respect for Rob--he was a good player, a strong guy, but his mouth was going to get him into trouble. But Coach wasn't a bad person--he didn't want to see Rob voted out, he just wanted him to learn his lesson. To do so, he would have to unleash the dragon.
At the end of Day 3, when Rob offered to go collect more firewood, Coach decided to go along with him. It was dark out, most of the production crew had left for the night. A few cameras remained around camp, but the two men were left to their business.
"Fuck, I'm horny," Rob commented once they had gotten out of earshot of camp. "I wish Ambuh was here."
When Coach didn't respond, Rob stopped and turned his head back, smirking. "Think you could get Jerri to blow me?" he asked with a laugh.
Coach laughed. "Don't think she's gonna put out yet."
Rob kept laughing, but didn't keep walking. He gestured down to his shorts, which were tended out. "You don't mind, do ya?" he asked. "Only reason I do this is to get some time for me."
Coach tried to act nonchalant--but he was beaming. His plan would be easier to accomplish than he thought. "Go ahead," he said. "I'll get the wood."
Rob nodded and Coach walked off--far enough to fade from view, but close enough to return in an instant. Thinking he was alone, Rob cupped his balls and pulled his package out over the waist of his shorts. He was already hard--seven inches at attention--and slowly, he started to work himself. His eyes closed, and his head tilted back. He stroked slowly, wanting to savour the moment. He was a horny guy. Even with their kid, him and Amber made time for sex as often as possible. Three days was the longest he had gone in a while, and it was getting to him. In those three days, he had jerked off eight times. He would kill for a lay.
He was surprised when a hand cupped over his mouth tightly, preventing him from screaming. Another hand reached around his waist and grazed his pubes. He kicked out in surprised, but Coach whispered forcibly in his ear. "You're not going to make a sound," he ordered. "And you're going to do as I say."
Still holding a hand against Rob's mouth, Coach's right hand felt around for the shaft of Rob's cock. When he found it, he gently rubbed up and down to get a sense of it's length. Rob shivered and stopped fighting. He wasn't gay, but it had been a long time since anybody had touched him. The sensation was thrilling.
Coach's body rubbed right against Rob's back, giving him to room to move. Coach finally wrapped a fist around Rob's manhood and slowly jerked it back and forth. Rob salivated, and unconsciously his hands reached back to touch Amber's waist--then he remembered it was Coach and stopped himself. But he didn't fight back.
Once he was sure there would be no conflict, Coach removed his hand from Rob's mouth, and the man from Boston let out a shaky moan. Coach remained pressed up against him, and whispered in his ears again: "Do you like this?" he asked. Rob nodded. "Do you want this?" he continued.
"I... I need it," Rob said, his accent thick. Coach laughed and sped up his movements, causing Rob's knees to buckle slightly. His breathing was deep and slow, his eyes were still closed, and his head tilted back again.
After a few moments of slow strokes, Coach once again spoke. "Take off your shirt," he commanded, removing his hand. "And pull off your pants."
Rob hesitated, but did as requested. He pulled off his shirt, revealing his slightly toned, hairy chest. When he pulled down his shorts and boxers, his package swung down around a forest of hair, from his thighs to his ass, all the way down his legs.
With the clothes removed, Coach spun Rob around and crouched down to his knees. With his hands, he gripped Rob's manhood and began jerking again. With his mouth, he tickled his balls. Rob moaned again, and put a hand on Coach's head, leading it.
Coach's tongue eventually led its way up the shaft, and closing in on the head. Rob felt close to coming when he felt it being licked, but he wanted more. He tried to stop himself, but as Coach started moving deeper, he exploded into the back of the man's throat, one of the largest wads he had ever made.
Coughing, Coach pulled himself off the dick and spat out what he could. Like Rob, he didn't consider himself gay. In his mind, he was exacting out a plan. Something he had done to many people--men and women alike. In the end, it was worth sucking a dick to get his revenge. Now it was that time.
When Coach stood, Rob tried to avoid his eyes. "Uh..." he began, "...thanks."
Coach smirked. "Your turn."
"What?" Rob asked.
"I helped you," Coach explained. "Now you help me."
Rob blinked, wide-eyed. "I, uh--I'm not gay, man. I'm not..."
"It's fine," Coach promised. "You won't have to suck my dick. That's not what I want."
Confused, Rob pressed the issue. "What do you want, then?"
Coach, not answering, wrapped his first around Rob's dick again and began stroking it. "Lie down," he asked. The two men moved in unison, Rob leaning up against the think trunk of a tree. His shorts and shirt were too far away now--there wasn't much else he could do. Coach continued to service him until Rob got comfy--then he asserted himself.
He lunged forward, pinning Rob against the tree, straddling his naked body to the ground. "This," Coach said, "is what you get for giving me attitude. Don't do it again."
With both hands, Coach undid the fly of his jeans, then the button. He reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock and balls, falling at eight inches--flaccid. Rob looked on in shock and the dangling piece of meat scraped his stomach. He stood up, still standing over an awestruck Boston Rob, and pulled off his own shirt, revealing the newly inked dragon tattoo he had gotten just days before the game started. Then, he pulled down his pants and underwear, kicking them off over his ankles.
He was ready to unleash the dragon.
When he got back down to his knees, he spread Rob's legs apart to sit between them. Rob choked for a moment, but his tension was eased when Coach stroking his cock. Then, suddenly, he stopped, and with both hands, he heaved up Rob's legs and slung them over his shoulders, and suddenly Rob knew where this was going.
"No, man--no--fuck..." he begged, kicking his legs, but the position was too awkward.
With his hands free again, Coach lined up his monster, slowly getting harder and harder to a strong 11 inches, fat as a polish sausage. He inserted the tip, and Rob let out a howl of pain already. He had never been fucked before. He was as tight as a teenage girl. Coach smirked. Revenge would be sweet.
As he slowly forced himself in, Rob cursed in pain. Coach knew just how painful it would be--he had learned it the same way when his own high school basketball coach had done the same thing to him. Rob was about to get his organs rearranged.
When they got back to camp, Rob had a slight limp. Russell asked him what was wrong, to which Rob responded, "...nothing."