Gym Boys (6 page)

“I said drop your pants.” When I didn't do nothin', Coach made a face. “Rufus,” he said, his voice all exasperated. “I've seen you in the shower dozens of times. It's not like you're showing me anything new, you know. I just want to prove a point to you.” I still didn't do nothin'. “Drop 'em, Rufus!” Coach barked, and I knew there was no arguing the matter. I pulled down my blue jeans. “The underpants too,” Coach said. I pulled them down to my ankles.

Coach just leaned back in his chair and looked at me—or rather, at my dick. He was wearing the funniest look I ever saw on another man's face. “Sweet Jesus in Heaven,” he said, all low-like. I didn't have a Chinaman's clue as to what he was thinkin', but something in his look made my stomach flutter, like it did last summer on the Winotchka Bridge, when all the guys were daring me to jump off, and I was looking straight down into the water, trying to work up the nerve. To my embarrassment, I felt my dick start getting hard. I put my hands over it to hide this from Coach.

“Leave your hands at your sides,” Coach said quietly.

I did like he told me. My dick just kept on getting harder and harder. Soon it was sticking straight out. I snuck a quick peek down at it. Sure enough, it was just as red as I knew my face must be.

Coach looked in my eyes now, all triumphant. “Do you see what I mean, Rufus?” he asked. “This proves my point exactly!”

“No, Coach. I can't say that I do.”

Coach got up and walked around the desk. He stood right in front of me. I was a good three inches taller than him, so he had to look up into my face. “Rufus,” he said. “You've got the biggest cock I've ever seen. Hell, it must be at least ten, maybe eleven inches long.” He reached down and grabbed it. “Look, I can hardly put my hand around it. With a cock like that, a man's just got to be full of sexual tension. He can't help but think of nothing but where to put this pecker. And look how easy it was for you to get hard. No wonder you can't put your mind on your athletic performance!”

Well, I just felt lower than a snake's belly in a wagon rut hearing this. 'Cause I knew Coach was right. Even now, pert near all I could think of was how good Coach's hand felt wrapped around my dick. And here Coach was just trying to prove a point. Coach was so wrapped up in makin' his point, though, that he must not have noticed that his hand was slowly stroking my dick up and down. But I sure knew it. And what's worse, I didn't want him to stop. “I'm sorry, Coach,” I said, all low and sad-like.

Coach smiled. He reached up and squeezed my shoulder. He also squeezed my dick in the same friendly way. “Hell, Rufus,” he said. “It's nothing to apologize for. Lots of young men suffer from sexual tension. Some of my most promising athletes. I see it as part of my job as a coach to help them through the problem.”

I'll be darned if my eyes didn't start watering up when he said that. Coach was taking such an open-hearted concern in helping me through this “sexual tension” problem that it just choked me up. “What are we going to do, Coach?” I asked.

Coach smiled again, and it was such a friendly, encouraging smile, that I couldn't help but take heart. “Well, Rufus,” he said, “we're just going to have to explore the problem, find out just what causes this sexual tension to flare up, and then work it through. Now take off the rest of your clothes.”

Coach's way was so friendly and helpful that I could feel my embarrassment just sort of slide off and sink into the ground. In fact, I was kind of liking this. I didn't even think my face was red anymore. I pulled my shirt off, kicked off my shoes, and stepped out of my jeans. When I turned back to Coach, I saw him pulling off his pants too. That kind of got me confused again. “What gives, Coach?” I asked.

Coach tossed his pants aside and started unbuttoning his shirt. “Well, Rufus, some things can best be taught by comparison. Each man's body responds to sexual tension in a different way. And that's what I'm trying to show you. Normally, I'd just have one of the other boys come in to demonstrate, but since they've all gone home, I guess it'll have to be me.”

Well, I'd never seen Coach's body before. In fact, I'd never seen the body of any man except the other guys on the wrestling team, and I have to confess that I was finding this all mighty interesting. Like I said earlier, Coach was shorter than me, but he was just as broad in the shoulders. I never realized before what a good body he had, how big his muscles were. His chest was covered with black, curly hair that trailed down his belly and then got all bushy again right above his dick. And his dick was just as stiff as mine now, just sticking straight out for the whole world to see. I'd never seen another man's boner before, and I looked at Coach's with some powerful curiosity. It wasn't pink, like mine, but dark, with a big ol' head. And his balls hung down real low, one lower than the other, where mine are a lot tighter.

Coach saw me staring down at his dick and he smiled kind of regretful-like. “I'm afraid it's not as big as yours, Rufus.”

I just said the first thing that came to mind. “It's beautiful, Coach. It's just the right size for you.” And then I got a little scared for making such a personal remark to Coach.

But he just smiled. “You're a good boy, Rufus,” he said. His face got serious again. “But we got to explore this problem of yours some more. Now let's just see what causes this sexual tension of yours to flare up.” He reached up and squeezed my nipples, gently at first, and then harder. “What does that do for you, Rufus?” he asked.

Well, I couldn't begin to describe the feeling to him. “It feels real good, Coach,” I finally sighed. “In fact, if you want to squeeze harder, that's all right by me.”

Coach squeezed harder. “Like this?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah,” I groaned. Then, realizing that wasn't really a respectful way to talk to Coach, I cleared my throat. “I mean, yes, sir.”

Coach looked thoughtful. “Hmmm,” he said. “And what about this?” He leaned forward and began licking my nipples, biting them gently with his teeth and flicking them with his tongue.

“Ahhh, jeez,” I moaned.

Coach pulled back again. “Interesting,” he said. He dropped down to his knees so that his face was right in front of my dick. He took hold of my dick and began stroking it slowly, pulling the skin over the head and back again. “And what about that, Rufus?”

“Yeah, Coach, yeah,” I groaned. “I'm definitely feeling somethin'.”

Coach looked satisfied. “Very good.” He looked up at me again and grinned. “Now my mouth is going to be full for a while, so I won't be able to talk to you, Rufus. It'll be up to you to give me feedback.”

“Okay, Coach,” I gasped. “I'll try.”

Coach put his mouth around my balls and began sucking on them hard, still stroking my dick. He worked his tongue around each nut, giving them a good washing.

“Oh god, Coach, I think we're onto something here,” I moaned. Coach slid his tongue up the shaft of my dick, back to my balls again and then back up my dick. He flicked my dickhead with his tongue, pushing it down into the piss slit, sliding it all over the head. Suddenly he plunged down and took my dick in his mouth. Well, my knees just about gave out with that. “Sweet Jesus!” I cried out. And I'm ashamed to admit this, but I lost control and did a very disrespectful thing. I grabbed Coach's head and began pumping my dick back and forth inside his mouth, as deep as I could get it. Which was still three or four inches shy from being all the way.

Coach broke away. “Slow down, Rufus,” he gasped. “You're too big to just go plowing my mouth like a bull in heat.” I was about to apologize, but he made an impatient wave with his hand. “Just shut up and let me do this my own way. Believe me; I know what I'm doing.” He took hold of my dick again and swallowed it. Slowly, he worked it down his throat, inch by inch, until his nose was buried in my pubes. I never would have thought it possible, but Coach is a man who knows how to do things right. His head began bobbing back and forth, and each time he came back he managed to take my cock in all the way. I held on to his head again, but gently this time, just running my fingers through his hair, slowly moving my hips back and forth in time to his sucking. I have to admit, we was goin' over this sexual tension business with a fine-tooth comb.

Well, Coach started twisting his head from side to side now, wrapping his tongue around my dick in a manner that would have pert near lifted me out of my socks if I had still been wearing them. I looked down and dang if I didn't see Coach strokin' his hard dick too, while suckin' on mine. And a thought just kind of lit up in my head.

“Coach!” I said. “You got sexual tension too, don't you?”

Coach took my dick out of his mouth, looked up at me, and grinned. “Well, yes, Rufus, I have to confess that I do.”

And I realized that I'd not been minding my manners. Here Coach was working so hard to help me get over my sexual tension, and dang if I'd so much as lifted a finger to help him with his. “Well, shoot, Coach,” I said. “It just don't seem right that I don't help you out, too.”

Well, I tell you, Coach's face just lit up like it was Christmas morning. It made my heart glad just to see it. “Rufus,” he said. “You are a true gentleman. And don't let anybody tell you otherwise.”

He stood up and, without giving it a thought, I just dropped down to my knees the way Coach had done. Coach's dick shot out in front of my face, long and hard, and I looked it over with curiosity, following the veins along it, watching how the head flared out.

“You can touch it, Rufus, it won't bite,” Coach said. And I reached out, put my hand around Coach's dick and squeezed.

It seemed like an awful familiar thing to do to a member of the Enid High School faculty but after all, Coach had said it was all right. Damn if Coach's dick didn't just throb in my hand like something with a mind of its own, and a little drop of precome oozed on out. I took a deep breath. I never sniffed a man's dick and balls before; Coach's had a smell of fresh sweat, but something else too, a smell something like when Daddy took me out hunting: the smell of a stag in rut. Damn if that didn't just set my own dick a-twitching something fierce. I sniffed again, and that ol' smell just got me drunker than moonshine. I leaned forward and ran my tongue around Coach's dickhead and then slid the whole thing down my throat. At that moment, it felt like my mouth was just the most natural place in the world for Coach's dick to be, like they was specially made for each other. Coach gave a mighty groan. “Goddamn, but that feels good!” he gasped, and he commenced to pumping his hips, sliding his dick back and forth between my lips.

Well, we just went on like that for a while, me just licking and sucking on Coach's dick. All of a sudden, Coach pulled out. “Lie down, Rufus,” he said, his voice urgent. I lay on the linoleum, and Coach sat on my chest. He dropped his balls into my mouth and I began licking them hard, rolling them around with my tongue, putting them both into my mouth and sucking on them. Coach started jerking off with me doing this. That surprised the hell out of me. I never realized men as old as Coach jerked off too! I remembered how good it felt when Coach pinched my nipples, so I reached up and pinched his too.

“Oh yeah!” Coach groaned. “That's right, son.” He spit in his hand, reached back and began stroking my dick again. Well, damn if that just didn't get me a-squirming and a-twisting all over the linoleum.

Coach twisted around so that he could get at my dick as well, and we both commenced to sucking each other off, Coach doin' push-ups above me like it was a pre-practice warm-up. I swear, I can't remember doing anything that was half so much fun! Coach was real good about getting all of my dick down his throat. We rolled around on the floor, and this time I wound up on top. He grabbed hold of my ass with both hands and just pushed me to him. I could feel my big ol' dick just slide through his mouth and down his throat like butter on a hot skillet. I did my best on Coach's meat as well. I may not have had as much practice as Coach, but I was having one hell of a good time, and I think that was registering on him. “Yeah, son,” he laughed, as he pumped his meat into my mouth. “If you were only as good at wrestling as you are at sucking cock, we'd be up for the interstate championship by now.”

Well, it wasn't much longer before I had to cry out, “Coach, I'm fixing to shoot any second now!” I felt like it was only polite that I inform him.

Coach pulled my dick out of his mouth and yelled, “Hang on, Rufus! I'm almost there myself, and we might as well come together!” He pumped his dick a couple of times hard into my mouth, and I could feel his body commence to shuddering. He quickly started sucking my cock again hard, squeezing my balls, and that was what pushed me over the edge. I felt what must have been a couple of quarts of come just pump on out of my dick into Coach's mouth, just as he squirted his own load down my throat. Well, we just rolled around on the floor, happier than two pigs in shit, with each other's dicks in our mouths, gruntin' and snortin', eatin' come like we was starving and it was manna from heaven. Then we just collapsed on the floor.

Coach looked over at me and grinned. “And that, Rufus, is how you relieve sexual tension.” I didn't say nothing, just squeezed his hand in gratitude.

Well, Coach has made it a particular point of his to keep on helping me out with my sexual tension problem. We meet for sessions just about every day after practice. Coach is a stickler for trying new methods. And I think we've near got the problem licked. I ain't never felt so relaxed and easy as I do now. And my wrestling's improved a whole lot too. But Coach says we got to keep on with the practices, just in case, and how next time he's in Tulsa he's gonna pick up a few
toys
as he puts it, to add a little more variety to our sessions. “Hell, I'm game, Coach,” I told him. “Anything for the good of the wrestling team.”