Glory Glory 'Holeylujah!

Tod had recently qualified as a tennis coach and was now waiting to be interviewed for his first paying position. It was with mixed feelings that he had applied to the 'BRAMPTON YOUNG LADIES SPORTS & RECREATION ACADEMY' as he believed that this would be no real test for his burgeoning ambition to coach at the highest level.

However, bills were still the prime source of communication that regularly filled his mailbox and after a string of rejections he realizes that he must swallow his pride and apply for this somewhat demeaning position --------.

As he waited in the brightly lit foyer, he pretty quickly realized that there could be compensations as he eyed the steady stream of female traffic that past him. Most were dressed in sports attire and what appeared to be de rigueur for the tennis fraternity was certainly eye catching, comprising of tightly fitting sweat shirts and skirts that were just about the modesty side of skimpy.

The majority of the young ladies had rewarded his somewhat lascivious glances with wide smiles -- and why not? Tod was of the rugged and athletic gene pool, with handsome chiselled features; broad shoulders; slim hips and a ten-inch cock with a mind of its own that even now was responsible for the considerable protuberance in his crotch area - A sight that had not escaped the attentions of some of the more perceptive young ladies.

"Tod Hastings!" came the officious female voice from the adjacent office, which quickly brought the young man back to reality. He fought valiantly to reduce the bulge that was straining against his denims and was somewhat relieved to find that the owner of the somewhat stentorian voice would have won few prizes at a beauty contest.

Tod guessed that she was about 40 and built like an eastern European shot putter and was not surprised to later learn that she did indeed hail from Germany. Her dark hair was pulled tightly back from her rather plain face to form a sizeable bun at the back of a rather square shaped head.

However, she did possess a couple of redeeming features, and this of course depended very much on how you preferred your women. The first was her more than ample butt and the second a huge bust that Tod guessed was about the same size in inches as her age.

This somewhat depressing sight though did have one small consolation as the sight of the 'Amazonian' woman had caused his previous hard erection to wilt as quickly as it had earlier blossomed, much to Tod's relief.

"Vell Mr Hastings, all your papervork seems to be in order and as ve do not appear to have any other candidates I think I can safely say that the position of tennis coach is all yours."

"Well thanks a lot M/s Taubman," replied Tod, glancing at the polished wood and chrome name plaque that proclaimed that he was in the presence of 'OLGA H TAUBMAN -- SPORTS FACULTY HEAD.' "And I'll certainly do my best to ensure that all your young ladies become proficient at the game" he added.

Olga looked him up and down, noting his muscular physique and handsome features before declaring in her harsh Germanic accent, "The trustees of the academy vould also be grateful if that's all they learn from you. They are a high spirited group and of the age when they could be easily persuaded to forget their rather sheltered upbringing, so Mr Hastings if the beast inside you avakens, you would do well to heed my varning and though most are of legal and consensual age, they are, as far as I am avare -- virgins - and I would like it to remain that vay during your sojourn vith us."

Tod was somewhat taken aback by this outspoken tirade but had enough presence of mind to assure her that the only balls her young charges would be fondling were of the tennis variety (or words to that effect)-------------.

The following morning found Tod on the well-manicured grass tennis courts. He was going through the ritual of his usual warm-up exercises when the first of his squad that morning arrived at courtside. She was about five-six with long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. She was long-legged; narrow of waist and slim hipped. Her rather slight frame though did accentuate the size and shape of her breasts. Not that they were grotesquely large, it was just that they appeared rather out of proportion with the rest of her slender body.

Her butt was somewhere between 'Kardashian' and 'Lopezesque' but her undoubted crowning feature were her nipples. It was a fair bet that the sternest of bras would have struggled to conceal their immense proportions but when their owner decides to dispense with such female fripperies then they were there to behold in their true unbridled glory.

Tod had hitherto been so engrossed in his routine that at first he did not see her until a sultry voice called out, "Hi coach -- I'm Jennifer, (no surprise there then) but do call me Jen." Tod looked up and it was a toss up as to whether his brain or his cock first acknowledged her presence.

He was initially lost for words but fortunately his free spirited appendage spoke the universal language that was certainly not lost on the voluptuous Jennifer.

She ran her tongue across her pert little mouth; glanced covertly at the growing bulge in Tod's shorts and announced huskily, "looks like someone's glad to see me!" Tod took a deep breath before replying,

"Hi Jen -- ready for some ball action then?" he blurted out unthinkingly. "Maybe we should start with a tennis lesson -- huh? Perhaps later we -- Oh! Here comes the rest of the 'A' team. Hi girls! I think coach is just about bustin' his britches to see what we're made of," she added with a rather wicked smile.

Now if you had mentioned to Tod that there was a mould somewhere in heaven from which his six charges had been cast, he would probably have agreed with you.

Oh there were some subtle differences here and there. Maybe some with an inch or two less on the butt; perhaps an odd 'C' cup among the predominant array of D's and DD's; a couple of brunettes among the many blondes and possibly the odd nipple that was more sultana size than cherry. There was not a 'minger' among them and Tod would have been more than happy to fuck any of them.

However, and perhaps fortunately, the sombre and daunting image of M/s Taubman kept popping into his head and her unremitting warning, for the moment anyway, held sway over his baser thoughts and inclinations.

"OK ladies; let's see what you've got -- in the tennis department of course," he quickly corrected himself. Tod paired off his voluptuous squad and instructed them to knock a few balls about. He was quite impressed by their overall ability and for a few moments he found himself appraising racket skills rather than breast sizes.

That is until Monique, a stunning brunette of Eurasian origins, bent over to retrieve a ball. He could hardly believe his eyes. Not only were the majority of the girls bra-less, but here was one at least who had 'forgotten' to put her panties on!

The fullness of her butt cheeks parenthesised a long dark and hairless slit that was divided by the soft swell of her perfect mons that hinted of immature though ripening labia.

Just how long does it take to pick up a tennis ball mused Tod as Monique lingered in this provocative stance long enough to get his heart pumping and his blood racing, with only one destination in mind -- his cock!

Still the image of the formidable Olga fought with this incredible once-in-a-lifetime vision and appeared to be gaining the upper hand when Crystal, a stunning mixed race Puerto Rican brunette came to assist Monique in retrieving the elusive ball.

The sombre image of M/s Taubman finally vapourized to nothing as Crystal adopted a similar position to Monique, the act of which revealed almost identical attributes, although of a slightly duskier hue.

"Am I the only one with pants on round here?" croaked Tod, wrestling gamely but loosing the battle to keep his penis under some sort of control.

"Probably," responded Anna, a third generation Nordic as she lifted her skirt to reveal the front elevation of yet another perfect pussy.

"Nothing worse than a sweaty quim when your playing this game -- 'sides, we're all the same gender here and one pussy looks much like another."

Tod's initial reaction was to argue the point but still mindful of the fearsome Olga and the incessant rising of his manhood, only partially concealed by a strategically positioned racket, he decided that a 'Time Out' was definitely required.

With a hoarsely whispered instruction for the girls to carry on while he took a bathroom break, he beat a hasty retreat to the locker room. In the privacy of the somewhat gloomy toilet cubicle he deftly removed his shorts, which caused his dick to spring immediately to full attention.

It was truly a sight to behold -- a full ten inches in length with a girth that he could hardly span with his own sizeable hand. It was with this that he now grasped his beating cock with the avowed intention of a quick wank in an effort to reduce the testosterone Olympics that was currently taking place in his testicles

It was as he firmly grasped the shaft just below the now purple hued head that he noticed the three inch diameter hole in the partition wall.

Just above the opening, written in latin were the words 'ego te provoco.' Now Tod was pretty well educated although Latin was not particularly high on his list of attainments, he was learned enough to know that the phrase was often used as a challenge and meant something like "I dare you".

Not being one to pass on a challenge, particularly if it involved inserting his cock into an orifice of any description, he duly complied with the request.

At first he thought that the act was in vain until he noticed a subtle change in the air temperature. Was he dreaming or was that really a soft warm current of scented air that passed over the tip of his bulging cock head.

As he was mulling the possibility, an equally warm wetness skimmed past the well-defined penile rim, causing it to buck in a mixture of surprise and expectation. He can hardly have been surprised when this was quickly followed by what could only have been a pair of luscious teenage lips closing teasingly on his burgeoning manhood.

With practised ease, the lips slid slowly down the length of his dick until it was half consumed. An equally warm hand then encased the remaining shaft and with soft though determined fingers began rhythmic oscillations along its formidable length.

It did not require a genius to deduct what was happening. At least one of the girls had entered the female side of the shower block and was now making oral overtures with the coaches cock.

A fit of giggles told Tod that the 'blowjob jockette' was not alone. This was confirmed when the initial 'cocksucker' reluctantly removed her mouth, only for it to be instantly replaced by one of less generous but equally adept proportions.

This happened a further four times and it did not take a mathematician to deduce that the whole 'A' squad were now tasting the delights of their new coaches impressive cock.

It was somewhat inevitable, though immaculately timed, that lucky number six received the added bonus of a mouth and face full of hot sticky cum. Now one would be forgiven in thinking that this was probably the end of the session, but coach and squad were made of much sterner stuff.

During the next hour or so, a heady mixture of hot steaming pussies and tight little anal openings had replaced warm moist mouths.

This was interspaced with bouts of firm yet yielding breast tissue enveloping his seemingly permanent erection as he rode it manfully through 'Twin Peaks' and 'Erotic Valley'.

His shiny helmet felt the tingle of numerous blossoming nipples as they were rubbed erotically across and around the weeping slit of his engorged glans.

His senses were heightened by the many screams and sighs of sexual fulfilment as each hungry pussy was filled with only the odd squeal of pleasurable pain as his rampnt penis penetrated an anus a little deeper than the recipient was expecting or had been accustomed to.

Tod ultimately appeared to have satisfied virtually every cunt; anus; mouth and tit that had been thrust his way.

It was somewhat inevitable that the final 'Time Out' (or should that be 'cock out') was called and as Tod, for the last time that day, was about to shoot his farewell manly load into the last luscious pussy, he was somewhat surprised to see six gleeful faces, hastily arranging previously discarded sweatshirts and skirts, lasciviously watching his ultimate performance.

A pertinent thought passed through his sex-addled brain, along the lines of. 'If all the squad are here watching me about to loose my final load of the day, then who the hell am I fucking?'

The answer was not long in coming and as his semen sprayed deep inside the as yet unknown pussy, it was accompanied by a flow of guttural screams, which included obscene oaths such as 'du verdammter Arschficker!' and 'Du arschgefickter Hurensohn!' which of course meant that the mysterious vagina belonged to no other but the redoubtable - Olga Taubman.

The realization, far from intimidating him made him thrust all the harder and his labours were rewarded as he felt the satiated cunt slide of his prick, to be quickly replaced by the wide generous mouth that eagerly milked him of every last drop of spunk, each slurp accompanied by mewling cries of 'gut bube, gross bursche, bumsen junge and poppen knabe'.

When the apparently insatiable Olga finally released him, he extracted his now rather limp member from the privacy of the dark and somewhat intimidating 'glory hole'.

Even in this somewhat dishevelled state, its impressive proportions were still perceptible and many a young female hand could be seen furtively sliding over barely constrained boobs or a slender finger furtively reaching under a skimpy skirt as the erotic ensemble gazed in admiration at Tod's still quite awesome weapon.

The surreptitious self-manipulations were hastily abandoned however as a butt naked Olga strode purposefully into the men's room. "Vell mein frauleins, vill he do?" demand Olga but now with a softer edge to her voice. A chorus of 'Ja sichers; Ja naturlichs and Aber jas' rapidly followed the somewhat rhetorical question. "Vell vot are you all vaiting for?" she concluded, reaching between Tod's cum stained thighs and eagerly stuffing his now rising cock back into her mouth ---------------.

Suffice it to say but Tod's trial period of employment was considered ratified and the rest of that heady summer was spent playing a little tennis, doing a little coaching but performing lots of drills, including drilling mouths; cunts and assholes, with the occasional excursion up 'Titty Valley'.

It was soon apparent that even a young and virile stud like Tod could never hope to cope with the workload, and when he learned that a second squad were to be enrolled in the fall, he persuaded M/s Taubman that an extra hand (or should that be dick) was sorely needed.

Now I have it on good authority that the post is soon to be advertised nationally, so if there are any budding tennis coaches out there, happy to take on certain extra curricular activities, then I have the address that you require -- it's -- Damn, my pen's run out of ink again!