Disclaimer: This story is fiction and is not intended to imply anything about the true sexuality of the celebrities mentioned or any personal knowledge about their private lives.
A photo for inspiration: http://progress-index.com/polopoly_fs/1.1657937!/fileImage/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/landscape_490/image.jpg
It was funny how a simple knock at the door could do so much to a man.
Tony Bennett had been sitting in his hotel room in New York, the night before UVA's first appearance in the Sweet 16 since the 90s. Dressed down in a navy polo with the orange V and crossed swords of Virginia on the lapel, tucked neatly into a pair of slate gray pants, the coach still looked slick and put-together, his hair neatly groomed with product, his tan, lightly creased features fresh and clean. At 44, Tony Bennett was trim, muscular, his eyes still flashing with the hunger of a young coach on the rise. He was accustomed to getting attention for his looks, and as a husband and father he was always prepared for a harmless flirtation to cross the line into a dangerous advance.
But he hadn't been prepared for this.
When that knock came at Tony's door, the coach's heart leapt. His pulse instantly quickened, like it still did in the few seconds just before tip-off. His palms heated, his cheeks reddened slightly. And, as he turned his head to look at the door where the light rap had come from, Tony Bennett felt an unmistakable stirring under those gray dress pants.
Fuck, the handsome coach thought. He stood, taking a deep breath. He'd almost been hoping the kid wouldn't go through with it. OK, maybe they'd screwed around a little before, but that was nothing more than a quick kiss stolen in the coach's office, a playful grab at Tony's crotch under his suit pants, and always followed by a rueful look from the coach, as if to say, 'You shouldn't have done that...' But tonight, when he'd caught that hungry look on the flight up, Tony had returned it in equal measure, leaving no doubt about what he wanted. And hadn't been able to stop himself from slipping a note with a room number and a whispered word as the team unloaded from the bus.
He'd told himself he'd wait till midnight, then put out his do not disturb sign and go to bed. The clock showed 11:48. Tony had never expected him to actually show up.
Tony walked a few steps toward the door, but stopped as he caught himself in the mirror on the bathroom wall. It wouldn't have been obvious to many people, but he could tell -- the flush of his cheeks, the quicker than average pulse of the vein in his neck, the barely noticeable but growing rise in the front of his pants. Tony Bennett was turned on. And he wasn't even at the door yet.
Get a hold of yourself, man, he thought, sucking in another breath and releasing it slowly. He turned to the door, glanced through the peephole.
Fuck yes.
Before his heart could beat any faster, before his hands could clam up any more, before he could convince himself not to open the door at all, Tony flipped the lock and pulled the door open.
"Hey, coach." Joe Harris was grinning wide. The 6'6" senior was dressed casually; a gray t-shirt with navy print "Virginia Basketball" across the chest hugged his powerful torso, a loose pair of navy sweatpants hung from his waist, pooling around a ratty pair of Nikes. The handsome brown-haired guard didn't move as his coach opened up, just stood there smiling. As hard as Tony's heart was pounding, Joe didn't seem nervous in the slightest -- though as the seconds ticked away, Tony didn't miss the little flick of Joe's gaze down over his coach and back up to meet his eyes once again. Finally, Joe's smile widened and his brow furrowed.
"So...you gonna invite me in?"
Tony Bennett opened his mouth to speak, but instead just stood aside wordlessly, his head turning to watch Joe Harris walk in his hotel room, then forcing his hand to let go of the door handle and hearing it click shut. Joe had only come in a few steps, and it was the young basketball player who turned and flipped the lock.
Tony fumbled for words. "I shouldn't--"
"I didn't think you'd ever do somethin' like this," Joe broke in. He shook his head, lifting his hand to run through his short chestnut-brown hair. "Hell, I didn't think I'd ever come up here."
"I didn't think you would either," said Tony quietly, his gaze locked on Joe's downturned eyes. Then Joe looked up suddenly and met his coach's stare, and Tony swallowed hard.
"Yeah," Joe said with a smile. "I know. But I was sittin' down in my room, and I just kept thinking...we got something, coach, you and me. And I don't wanna lose that just cause...you know..."
Tony's eyes fell. Cause we're both straight? he thought. Cause I'm old enough to be your dad? Cause I got a wife and kids at home? Cause we're in the middle of the goddamn NCAA tournament and I have my star player in my hotel room and all I can think about is just ripping off his clothes and--
"Coach?"
Tony looked up again, and Joe Harris was looking at him so goddamn earnestly that he wanted to laugh out loud. But behind those questioning eyes Tony saw something else -- what had made Joe unafraid to lock eyes with Tony during games for several seconds longer than any of his teammates would've been comfortable with, what had brought him up here tonight. Hunger. Desire. The kind of hot, unquenchable need that burned in every virile, 22-year-old college jock like Joe -- only instead of directing it at willing sorority girls and team groupies back in Charlottesville, Joe had fixed his hunger and desire squarely on his basketball coach.
Tony licked his lips nervously. "I--"
Joe Harris's lips swallowed whatever was going to come next, as Joe surged forward and kissed Tony Bennett hard and hungry. Tony's heart thumped in his chest. Holy shit, his brain screamed. Fuck yeah, his cock answered, swelling instantly to full hardness. He kissed Joe back without hesitation, kissing his player like he'd never kissed anybody before. Tony found his hand gripping the back of Joe's head, fingers knotting into Joe's hair, the other hand finding Joe's chest through his t-shirt. Feeling the hardness, the strength of that chest, Tony managed to push himself back, free his lips from Joe's.
"Fuck!" he cursed, staring at Joe wildly. But the senior guard was just grinning at him.
"I've wanted to do that for so fucking long," Joe breathed. "God, you're hot, coach."
Tony Bennett's dick throbbed in his dress pants; he was painfully aware of its thick length aching against his leg. He took Joe's head again in his hand, pulled his player's forehead to his, their lips inches apart but not meeting, both men breathing heavily. "Me too, Joe. Wanted this. Wanted you." And he had -- God knew Tony Bennett had lusted after Joe Harris almost since the day the kid stepped on campus. He might've felt a hint of it when he was out in Washington recruiting him, but it wasn't till he saw Joe in practice every day, saw that drive, that hunger, saw the wide smiles he gave his coach after he hit a big shot or made a huge stop, that Tony had well and truly fallen for his star. But when he fell, he fell hard, and he wasn't proud to think about how many times, on the road, away from the responsibilities and reminders of home, Tony had lay back in his quiet hotel room bed, picturing Joe peeling off that #12 jersey, tugging down those white Cavaliers shorts, and slowly stroked himself to eruption thinking about all the things he'd like to do to Joe Harris.
And now here he was, offering himself up to his coach, everything Tony ever wanted in a t-shirt and sweats. Joe's voice was lower now as he pulled back, lifting his gray t-shirt up over his hard stomach, over his chest. "Well..." Joe pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the ground, leaving his well-muscled torso bare. "I'm all yours now."
"Fuck," Tony repeated, quieter. He let his hands press against Joe's chest again, feeling the solidness of the muscle, the heat of the skin. As his fingers sank lower, Joe's breathing got shallower, and Tony nearly stopped breathing completely, feeling the smooth definition of Joe's stomach, then dropping further to hook into the waistband of Joe's underwear, black boxer briefs that hugged his hips tightly just above the looser waistband of his sweatpants. Instead of tugging either of them down further, though, Tony unhooked his fingers and instead let them trail down the front of Joe's sweats.
"Oh holy fuck..." Tony Bennett's breath caught again as he felt the steel-hard mass of Joe Harris's cock aching into his briefs and sweatpants. As his fingers wrapped around the long, firm ridge, he couldn't help looking up. Joe's face was a wide smile, lips parted, looking at his coach through lidded eyes.
"Ungh." Joe let out a little grunt as Tony's hand slipped down the length of his cock, feeling its size, its thickness, feeling that hard prick twitch against his touch. "Fuck," Joe whispered. Tony Bennett slowly began stroking Joe Harris's cock through his sweatpants, loving how responsive Joe was to each stroke, each squeeze, the young ballplayer grunting and tensing. Finally, Joe reached up and grabbed Tony's wrist, pulling the coach's hand free, then guiding it up and under the waistband of Joe's sweats and underwear.
Tony held his breath as he took the lead, sliding his hand further into Joe Harris's pants. He easily found his player's aching cock again, only this time when Tony curled his fingers around Joe's hot, hard prick, he felt Joe's arousal in all its glory, no longer a creation of Tony Bennett's lust-clouded imagination, no longer hidden under a loose pair of basketball shorts or sweatpants, but warm and throbbing in Tony's hand. Tony's own cock was so hard it felt like it was going to rip right through his zipper, but somehow he kept control of himself. He let his grip slide up the length of Joe Harris's dick till his fingers reached the wide crown and he felt Joe's body tighten in pleasure. Tony looked up, forcing Joe's eyes to his.
"You sure this is OK?" Tony said quietly. Joe had never seen this side of his coach, the side that wasn't screaming plays and directions from the sidelines or confidently working the team up in a timeout. For a big-time coach in a big-time league, whenever the cameras were rolling or the guys were looking up at him in the locker room, Tony Bennett had to be the authority figure, the elder, the unquestioned leader. Joe knew his coach was exposing a part of himself he never showed, opening a door he could never close again. And he fucking loved it.
He thrust gently into Tony's grip, letting his eyes drift shut, then open again. "This is...so fucking OK." Tony smiled at that, and Joe's cock throbbed harder. He reached down, tugging Tony's polo loose from his pants and lifting it over Tony's head. "Wow," Joe murmured, running his hands over his coach's bare upper body, feeling the light dusting of hair on Tony's own firm pecs, his powerful arms, his roughly defined abdominals. "Damn, coach, I knew you were still fit under that suit, but..."
Tony reddened. He clutched Joe's cock tight again and the senior guard breathed in sharply. "I really turn you on that much, buddy?" He couldn't believe this kid, 22 years old, handsome as hell and big man on campus, could really get hard for a guy twice his age.
But Joe just grinned, shaking his head. "You seriously have no idea." Confidently he unbuckled Tony's belt and unhooked his pants, reaching between the splayed fabric to find Tony Bennett's cock rock-hard and pressing insistently into his navy-blue trunks. "God," Joe breathed, "even bigger'n I thought." And before Tony could think of another objection, Joe Harris was sinking to his knees, tugging Tony's pants and underwear down along with him, and when Tony Bennett's hard, thick 7-inch cock slipped free of its confines, Joe only let it bob once, twice, before catching it between his thumb and index finger and sliding the already-leaking head between his lips.
"Hooohh...fuck..." Tony opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, and anyway Joe was already taking him deeper, Joe's tongue sliding down the length of Tony's hard cock, easing the path and making his coach shudder in pleasure. He soon felt his dick slide against the back of Joe's throat, and realized somewhere in the back of his mind that this wasn't the first time Joe Harris had sucked cock. That thought sent new waves of arousal down through Tony's body and out to the very tip of his cock, and suddenly he felt his balls churning. Tony was breathing harder now, and when Joe pulled back to the head and started massaging the underside with his tongue, he saw sparks and suddenly jerked backward.
"What's wrong?" Joe said, looking up.
"Nothing!" Tony couldn't help putting a hand to the back of his player's head. He smiled, stroking Joe's hair reassuringly. "I'm just...gonna come if you keep doin' that."
Joe exhaled, smiling too. He felt his dick throb in his pants at how confidently, how casually his coach was talking about getting off. Not to mention the thought of his coach coming deep in his throat... "So what's wrong with that?"
Tony smiled a little wider, lifting Joe to his feet. "Well, maybe...I want this to last a little longer."
"Oh?" Joe wrapped his fingers around his coach's slickened hard-on again. It was hard as steel, and as Joe tugged up its length, a few drops of pre-come spilled from the tip. Tony gasped softly, his lips parted. "Something tells me you got more'n one in you tonight, coach." Joe shucked Tony's pants and trunks the rest of the way, then casually shoved down his own sweats, leaving his cock aching into his underwear. He pushed Tony back onto the bed. "But I got nothing against making 'em count."
Joe looked down over his coach's body, now bare and inviting. He could only savor it for a moment before climbing onto the bed, Joe's hard, heavy cock tugging insistently against his boxer briefs. He bent over his coach's body, looking up with that cute grin, before leaning in and licking from the base of Tony's stomach to his belly button, then letting his fingers follow, teasing the skin. Tony shivered, then outright groaned in pleasure as Joe took one of his nipples between his teeth. Suddenly Joe Harris was everywhere, Joe's hands and lips and teeth and tongue appearing and disappearing, making Tony Bennett tense and relax, squirming like it was his first time. And in a way it was -- in 44 years, Tony had never been touched, never been given attention like this.
Then suddenly Joe's lips were on his again, and his star was kissing him deeply, slowly, needfully, nothing like the hard kiss he'd delivered when he first walked in. Fuck. He could feel the kid taking control, could feel Joe working him up, making him feel things he thought he'd never feel again. Tony was still painfully hard, but Joe was ignoring his cock other than the occasional brush of Joe's abs against the very tip, which by itself made the addled coach gasp quietly.
And just as Joe hoped, it finally proved too much. Suddenly Tony reached up, flipping Joe onto his back and climbing on top of him. He looked down at Joe Harris, well-muscled, shirtless, looking up at him with a smile that could melt ice, and a thick, gorgeous 8-inch cock jutting into his briefs that was so hard Tony couldn't believe Joe hadn't already creamed his shorts. Tony's own cock bobbed between Joe's legs as he looked down at his player. He was leaking freely now, leaking like he hadn't in 15 years, he was so turned on. And Joe was staring right back up at him, his soft gray eyes just staring at his coach, saying nothing and everything at once.
Tony Bennett slid forward. His cockhead grazed the underside of Joe's balls, swollen full and heavy with cream, and Joe flinched. Tony didn't hesitate, easing in further. Joe let his eyes close, let his legs part a little further. He felt his coach reach up and tuck his fingers under the waistband of his boxer briefs, then slide them down his well-muscled legs. "Jesus," Tony whispered. Joe Harris's cock was fucking beautiful as it strained into the air, pulsing hard with Joe's arousal, the tip wet with pre-come. Tony reached down, carefully running his fingers up the bare length of the senior stud's prick.
"Fuck, coach..." Joe whispered. His eyes were still closed as he reached up and wrapped his own fingers around Tony's cock again, guiding him down, easing his legs apart. "You got stuff?" the young jock muttered.
"Yeah," Tony said. He reached over to his bag by the bed. Joe opened his eyes a crack.
"No,
no -- not that." He grabbed the rubber from Tony's hand and tossed it on the ground. "Just this." He curled his hand around Tony's, popping open the bottle. "Just...this," Joe added, sliding his other hand up Tony's cock. Breathing deeply, Tony took over, reaching between Joe's legs, sliding a single finger along the tight entrance. Joe shuddered, and he could tell just with that single stroke how fucking tight Joe Harris was.
Joe seemed to read his mind. "I don't...do this much," he murmured.
"It's fine," Tony answered, his voice low and hungry. "I got you." Because even though Joe Harris had all but seduced him, had been all but begging for this for weeks if not months, this was still one of his guys, and he'd give anything and everything before he saw one of them hurt.
Especially this one, Tony thought as he looked down at Joe's naked body, barely able to contain how much he wanted this stud.
He slicked himself up as carefully as he could, though he still had to shut his eyes at the pleasure of his own touch. Tony leaned in, pressing Joe's legs apart and letting his hands rest on Joe's hips. Tony's wet cockhead slid against Joe's tight hole, and the kid bit his lip.
Tony hesitated an instant. His voice was barely audible. "You sure you--"
"Just fuck me, Tony."
That was it. No more hesitation. It was clear on whose terms this was gonna play out, and Tony was done holding back. Slowly, but confidently, Tony Bennett slid his rock-hard cock inside Joe Harris.
"Unnghh..." Joe bit his lip again. "Fuck yeah..." His abs clenched, and his arms bulged as he gripped the headboard, but he forced himself to relax as Tony drove deeper. Shit, his coach was big...way thicker than Brogdon, and longer than Zeglinski. Damn, did it feel good.
And if Joe felt good, then Tony was on cloud nine, feeling Joe's hole warm and tight around his hard cock, driving deeper and longer, each thrust opening Joe up a little more. He could tell Joe was telling the truth -- he didn't do this a lot. And that only made it hotter.
"Fuck, coach..." Joe groaned. "Feels so good." He reached up, tweaked one of his nipples. "Feel so goddamn full of you."
Tony didn't answer. He was too focused, slowly picking up the pace, staring down at his star player and barely allowing himself to breathe. Just when he thought it was too much, that he'd come on the spot, something released deep inside Joe and he suddenly sank deeper. Joe's eyes shot open and his hands clenched the bed, his biceps bulging. And Tony -- well, Tony Bennett went into goddamn overdrive.
"Ungh, FUCK yes..." Tony quickly doubled his pace, then tripled it, fucking Joe Harris in calm, steady strokes, then harder, and harder, till Joe was grunting hard and Tony's keys shook on the bedside table with each thrust. "Fuck me, coach," Joe grunted. "God, fuck me harder, coach..." Joe's neat brown hair had become disheveled, matted and sweaty against his forehead. His cock was leaking hard now, clear juice spilling onto his abs, its full length rock-hard and turning a darker red, the veins popping all along the thick shaft. Joe reached for his cock but Tony slapped his hand away.
"Almost there," the coach growled.
And he was -- he could feel a load burning in his balls like he hadn't felt since he was just out of college, and he knew he couldn't hold it more than a few seconds longer. Tony kept pumping, his own body slick with sweat, his eyes fixed on Joe Harris. Finally, just as he felt he couldn't last another second, Joe's eyes opened.
"Come for me, coach."
And he did. Tony Bennett clenched his eyes and sank deep one last time, driving hard inside Joe and groaning softly as he emptied his load in hard spurts. Joe was coming, too, not even touching his dick as it jerked and pumped cream all over his stomach, all over his chest, soaking the bedsheets beneath him as he felt his coach deep inside him.
It was probably more than a minute later when Joe finally opened his eyes again. He looked up as he felt Tony sliding free, wincing a little, then letting his lips break into a smile. Tony sat back on his heels, his still-hard cock waving in front of him. Joe was still hard, too, and Joe shuddered as he ran a couple fingers over the dripping-wet underside of his dick.
For once, they didn't have to say a word, coach or player. Tony dropped down on the bed beside Joe, exhausted but knowing it wouldn't be more than ten minutes before they were in the thick of it again. The guy was just too hot, and at 22 damn near as insatiable as Tony had been at his age. But for a few minutes he just looked into Joe's eyes, stroking his chest. He'd go to the moon for this kid, and he knew Joe would do the same for him -- and in just 24 hours, they could be looking Joe's graduation square in the face.
"I told you we got something, coach," Joe said.
"I know, buddy. I know."