Coach Turns Bi

Then I looked up. Shit! Huron was looking right at me. Busted! I had to say something, so I gave him a little smile. "Looking forward to a date tonight?"

But Huron was a surly kid. Problems at home, no doubt. Bitter. Mean. Always getting into fights on the playing field -- and always winning them until somebody broke them up. He looked up at me with a sneer. "You like big cocks, Coach?"

I walked away. What a jerk. I was glad he would be gone at the end of the year. One year with the little shit -- no, make that "the big shit" -- would be enough for anybody.

I gave up on trying to see Huron Cuorosckec's cock. Hell, he's just a kid, after all, the insulting little fucker!

Ellie kept mentioning him, though. "Seen if you're the biggest guy in the locker room yet?"

That grated on me. Huron's cock even started to affect my own sex life. As I sank it in once, she even murmured, "I want to know if I'm being made love to by the biggest prick in the school." Poor Ellie. As a German, she wasn't always aware of double-meanings. And hearing that almost made me lose my hardon. I had to work hard for that climax, and that pissed me off, too. I knew she was just teasing me, but it had come to the point that his cock size was in my head while my own prick was throbbing inside my wife.

One day in the middle of August, I had to walk through the locker room to see if we had enough towels to last for the rest of the week. As I passed Huron's locker, he looked up and sneered at me. "Check it out, Coach. Want to see my cock?" He leaned back against the lockers, still wearing his jockstrap, his hand groping the huge bulge obscenely.

That was enough. "Look, Mr. Cuorosckec, let's show a little more respect! You me want to report you? You want to spend still another year in high school?"

But as I said that, he yanked down his jock!

Damn!!

I was stunned. My hell, what a cock! That young man was hung better than any GI I ever saw in the showers, and this time he had a hardon. Get a grip on yourself! This is no big deal. You have seen guys with hardons in the showers before!

But fuck, did he ever have a dong! I had been thinking about it for so long, I was excited, almost obsessed. And something else: he was one of those guys with a bent cock. Not only was it huge, it arced up like a crowbar. I wonder what that thing would feel like. I almost slapped myself. Get a grip, man! You're thinking like a queer!

But I couldn't tear my eyes away. The shaft was a tawny column sculptured with huge veins and smaller ripples, the skin a little darker than the rest of his body. His cockhead stood proudly out of the folds of foreskin, arching violently up. It was pink. Glowing, erotic pink. It's . . . handsome . . . no, beautiful!

I stood unmoving -- couldn't move. Look at that thing! Never seen anything like that in my whole, damned life! I realized I was staring at it like an idiot, my mouth watering, but I couldn't help myself. I just couldn't move.

I heard Huron's voice. "Go on, Coach. Touch it. You know you want to."

The insolent bastard! But at that instant I spotted a large bubble of clear, syrupy liquid ooze out of it -- His precum! He's turned on! My thoughts were going 100 miles an hour, and in the roaring confusion, I saw my hand go out and grasp it.

I'm doing it! I actually reached out to hold a guy's cock! Fuck, I can't get my fingers around it! It's that big! My heart pounded in my ears, and I was breathing harder. Huron stepped closer as I stared down, and I started to stroke it. "Yeah, Coach, that feels good. Stroke my big cock."

I swallowed and licked my lips, and he spotted that. "Go on, Coach." His voice was low, deep, a manly bass. "Give it a kiss . . . do it. You know you want to."

This is bullshit! This insolent punk is not going to--

But my knees bent! I couldn't stop them! I slowly dropped to kneel in front of him, trying to fight it, trying to straighten up, but . . . there it was, right in front of my face. Ohmigod. Never been this close to a cock before. It's HUGE! I still held on, still stroking, still with the roaring in my ears. I'm supposed to kiss it. I can't do that! I can't kiss another man's--

--But my puckered lips pressed against it, kissed it, licked it -- I caught the drop of precum on my tongue -- then slid my lips around the cockhead. God, I'm sucking a man's cock!

"That's it, Coach, suck that big pecker!"

Out of control. Opened my jaws wide and took in as much as I could. Dirty, wicked, depraved! And never been so damned excited! I swallowed his precum -- not much of a taste, really; can't tell much from a single drop. But knowing I was swallowing Huron's cock-ooze turned it into a drop of gasoline scalding down my throat. I sucked harder.

He grabbed the sides of my head and rammed the big dong harder into my mouth, jamming it down my throat, choking me, spreading my jaws so wide it brought tears to my eyes. Then he started humping it in and out. God, he's fucking my face -- how humiliating!

Worse, after a couple of minutes, he let out a deep groan, and big gushes of hot sperm slushed into my mouth and down my throat. And that I could taste. Salty. Spicy. Flavors I never tasted before . . . but flavors I recognized: the taste of a man's balls. The taste of his sweat. The taste of a hot, sweaty cock after a jackoff session. The taste of her squealing as you sink into her deep -- the taste of male!

As I gulped it down -- he got to me. From my own balls grew the tsunami of a mighty orgasm, and to my astonishment, as I knelt there in the high school locker room, sucking the cock of a high school student, my own cock throbbed to full, maximum hardness, and, almost blinded with the ecstasy, I shot a huge load into my own pants.

Hadn't even touched myself.

You cummed from giving another male a blowjob And you swallowed his jizz!! Not even Ellie swallowed sperm. When he pulled his cock out of my mouth, I remained kneeling, panting, heart pounding, buzzing in the afterglow of my climax. Still unable to think straight.

"Okay, Coach, stand up and get your clothes off."

What? Who in hell does he think he is? But I stood up. Weak, staggering. "Look, Huron, I don't know what came over me just now, but--

--"Hee! hee! Looky there! Coach done cummed hisself just from sucking my cock! Yer a natural-born cocksucker, Coach!"

Oh, shit! The front of my khaki pants had a big, round wet spot. Damn, that was a big load. "That's not . . . what you think . . . I spilled water--" But that was bullshit, and we both knew it.

--"Better get them wet pants off, Coach."

In my confusion, that seemed to make sense. "Yeah. Can't wear these outside." Everything was spinning, dizzy. I unbuckled my pants and stripped them down. My jockstrap still drooled cum through the mesh: I was busted.

"Get that jock off, too, Coach."

I yanked down the supporter and stepped out of it.

"Now lay back on the bench, and let's talk."

Lie back on the bench! No fucking way! No way am I going to let a man-- And it suddenly hit me: A man. I'm not thinking of him as a kid any more. I could still taste his cum in my mouth. He's a man! And I lay back on the bench.

He slipped his own jockstrap off his foot, where it had been looped while I sucked his cock, and he swung one leg over me. Straddling me, he sidled up to my shoulders, his huge cock once again in my face. Yeah! I opened my mouth and sucked it in again. I liked it. Wanted to suck it again. I couldn't get much of it in my mouth, of course, but I loved to choke myself on it! And the cummy taste suddenly was the most familiar I knew. Basic. Important flavor!

"Gonna git yer cherry now, Coach. Spread yer legs out fer me and git ready."

Ohmigod, NO! When Huron pulled his cock out of my mouth, I gasped, "No! Wait! I'm a married man! No! You can't do this! Won't let you!" But Huron had his jockstrap in his hand, and he mashed it over my face!

"Feel that, Coach? My cum! Beat the meat 10 minutes ago. Suck my cum from my own sweaty jock, Coach!"

I couldn't breathe! He smothered me with the sweaty thing, and I opened my mouth wide, gasping for breath -- and the wet mesh pressed against my tongue. That taste again! The musk of his crotch filled my nostrils, overpowering me.

Out of my mind, drunker than ever in my life, I couldn't think straight. But my body knew what it wanted. My legs spread open, and my hands reached down to each knee, pulling them even wider apart. Huron moved into my crotch, his giant cock like a construction derrick, but before he mounted me, he swiped my ass a couple of times with something greasy -- must've been Vaseline or something from his locker. Then I felt his cockhead nudge against my asshole, and a second later, my whole life changed!

A bazooka rocket burned a white-hot hole through me, and the pain was terrible! My asshole was on fire. All sexual thoughts evaporated; all I could think of was stopping the pain! I reached up and yanked the jockstrap away from my mouth. "Stop! Oh, God, STOP!"

His huge ram slid further in, and again I writhed. "Jesus God, stop! Oh, god, oh, god!" I couldn't fight him -- I was in too much pain to move, like being crushed in a traffic accident and hurting too much to crawl out of the car. Tears ran from my eyes, and I gritted my teeth.

When it finally slid in to the hilt, his hips pressed against mine, it felt like he rammed a flaming torch up my ass. I was afire from between my legs all the way up to my heart. I couldn't breathe. This is it! I'll die here, cut up inside, gutted by a high school student, fucked to death on a locker room bench! I saw the end. This is all I can take. When he starts plowing, it'll be too much -- this is the end for me!

Son of a bitch, what a way to die. I don't want to go like this! I couldn't do anything but wait.

Any second now. My asshole and my guts were so stretched open, I figured his out-stroke would be at least as painful as the entry, probably rip out my guts. I'll bleed to death.

Soon. He'll pull out soon. Disembowel me. And then it will be over.

I waited. Heard him over me, breathing hard. Felt the heat of his body.

I opened my eyes.

He was staring down at me like a lion at a gazelle, his pupils dilated with lust. "Like this, Coach?" Even his voice was the grunt of a lion -- deep, hoarse, savage.

What a cruel bastard! He knows I'm dying. He's done this before, killed other men, buried their bodies in the Mississippi woods. It pissed me off. I swore to myself that, no matter how bad it got, I would give him no more satisfaction in hearing me beg him to stop. At least I'm still alive. I can stand this much.

Still he didn't move. When I looked up at him again, he grinned like an alligator at the question in my eyes. "I know you're eager, Coach. Just wait for it. You'll get used to it . . . then you'll like it . . . start begging for it."

Used to it? No fucking way! I've never felt pain like this! But it suddenly hit me: it was getting easier to take! And the longer I lay there, my thighs spread apart, Huron's big cock spreading my asshole wider around than I could believe . . . the less it hurt!

At first I didn't care -- I was just glad for the relief. I'll live through this.

Then he started fucking. As he pulled out very slowly, it hurt a little, but I could stand it. He slid out all the way, and when just his cockhead was still inside, he pushed back in again . . . and that time it didn't hurt.

It doesn't hurt!!

And when he pulled out again -- Incredible! Feels good! The big cock sliding through me was like a big stick of slimy mint! Peppery, but slick, smooth, sliding. And good!

Suddenly I felt something else: Oh, no! No, please! It can't be, not this!! The horniness was coming back! I felt myself getting a hardon.

No, no, no! But with every lunge, the fiery pain was replaced with a fiery craving. He had my body stretched so tight, it was inflamed and sensitive to any movement, and his thrusts rammed pleasure up my ass in showers of sparks. I looked down. I was hard as an iron bar, and my hands were pulling my knees back again. To make it easier, to help him, to get it in deeper.

"Yeah, you like it now, don't you, Coach?" And he stopped.

I waited.

Come on, come on!

I opened my eyes and looked up again. The cruel son of a bitch looked down at me with that shark's smile. The only sound I heard was my own panting, and it dawned on me I was even hornier than before. "Come on!" My voice was a hoarse growl, so husky I hardly recognized it.

"C'mon what, Coach?"

I gritted my teeth and snarled, "Do it! Do it!"

He remained still, my asshole tight around his organ like a fiery ring around Saturn, driving me crazy.

"Do what, Coach?"

I hadn't died from the pain of getting fucked, but I knew I would go insane if he didn't finish it! Something in me snapped. "Dammit, fuck me! Ram that big thing in me! Do it! Fuck me now! FUCK ME!"

The heavenly, mind-blowing thrusts began again, and he took me to a new level, a sensation so intense it was almost an orgasm, but it lasted -- didn't peak and subside like cumming! He kept me suspended, like in mid-air, floating electrocuted on that huge cock, so dizzy with pleasure I could hardly breathe.

I had no control of my body -- it responded only to his cock. My legs automatically wrapped around his heaving buttocks, helping him, adding my strength to his lunges. "Deeper! Oh, god, Yeah! Harder!" I couldn't stop barking at him, begging him to fuck me.

At the last stage I couldn't stop my hands from reaching up, one over his shoulder, the other over his neck in a caress. I'm hugging the motherfucker! For as much as I hated the idea, my body was thanking him, submitting to him, wanting him to have his way.

"Yeah! Yer my bitch now, Coach."

The words were damnation, words no man can stand to hear, but my fevered, stretched, hypersensitive asshole felt every vein, bump, skin-fold, and irregularity in the surface of his thrusting cockshaft -- and mistook it for pleasure! And that freakish upward curve meant his cockhead banged against my prostate with every stroke. Every thrust was a gut-punch of pleasure, and I was so fuck-drunk when I looked up at him, I couldn't focus.

"I'm about there, Coach, gonna breed ya!" And with six or eight more savage lunges, he drove it in to the max, a vicious gouge I could almost feel in the back of my throat, and his hips slammed my whole body in a roundhouse punch. "Cummin' in ya, bitch! Yer ass is mine!"

I felt it! It's true! You can feel a cumming! A hot swelling in my guts! Swelling me full! I could only imagine the heavy surges of hot, slimy milt gushing up through me, and the feeling was too much! Barely conscious, my head fell back, my eyes clenched shut --

--and an atomic bomb went off somewhere between my balls and the blessed spot where his cock had stretched me into his property. In the sizzling pleasure no man can stand, I screamed in silent, desperate hisses, sputtering my semen like a machine-cannon! I think I counted six shots, but it went on after that. Biggest, longest, hardest ejaculation I ever had! And again, without touching my cock.

And even past my orgasm, his final lunges kept me in that ass-pleasure, turning my afterglow into a hot, fevered, continuing joy. "Keep fucking me, keep going . . . please!" My voice was slurred like a drunk's.

But Huron was finished, and he let himself collapse onto me, his chest and belly falling with a splush! into the big puddle of my cum. As he lay there, panting by my ear, his hips gave occasional, final-touch lunges, each one giving me another mini-thrill. I lay back breathing hard, obedient, quiet, eager for whatever he would give me.

Never could've imagined it. A man fucking me in the ass had put me into the longest, strongest, most intense ecstasy I ever felt. And then, with Huron's cock still in me, still wallowing on me as his bitch, a wave of shame swept over me. It's true. Never felt this wonderful. I hope -- somehow -- I can get over this.

About then Huron pulled out and stood up. "Look at this mess, bitch," he growled. "Git up here and clean me off!"

I was about to tell him to fuck off, but then -- the lines of white sperm running down his belly turned me on so much I rose up, went to him, and bent over to lick my own sperm from his body. He patted my bald head. "We need us a secret sign. Tell ya what, bitch, from now on, whenever I meet ya and grab yer crotch, it means yer gonna go back to the office and git ready fer me."

With that he shoved me, and I stumbled back over the bench, falling onto my ass -- luckily not banging my head against the lockers. He pulled his clothes out of his locker, put them on, and left.

I didn't move. I just watched him go. I was awash in shame and humiliation. Ghost-figures of the soldiers in my platoons marched past and looked down at me sneering. Didn't know a queer was leading us!

When I heard the door close as Huron left, I pulled myself painfully to my feet. As I stood, a stream of his sperm ran out of my ass and down my legs. He fucked me. Bred me like a bitch. I lowered my head. Another man can call me his bitch. What have I let happen? What have I become??

And Ellie. I couldn't think about her. It was a train-wreck I was racing toward, and I couldn't bear to look. What am I going to do??

I took a deep breath and set my teeth. This will be a secret. To the grave. I sat on the bench and dropped my head into my hands, trying not to cry. A few minutes later I got up, staggered into the showers and washed myself off -- Can't clean this off. This is on me for a million years. -- found my clothes. I pulled them on and walked out to my car.

I drove home like a zombie. Not going to tell her. Can't tell her. More than she wants to know. She'll lose all respect for me. It's enough that I know I'm a cocksucking, man-fucking bitch-queer.

And what about that "secret sign" of his?

Oh, fuck! I'm a fucking faggot whose students walk up to him and grab his crotch. I gnashed my teeth and made a decision. If that punk thug puts his hand on me again, I'll kill him! But with that my imagination spun off into school inquiries, police reports, investigations, newspaper reporters, charges and countercharges, and finally my picture on TV as molesting a high school student.

And Ellie would leave me.

Tears ran down my cheeks, and I could hardly see to drive. You stupid bastard, you stupid, stupid bastard! You betrayed her! And for a damned high school loser you don't even like!!

No, now wait a minute. I didn't betray her. I didn't make love to another woman. I was fucked by another man! Everything was so confused, I couldn't think straight. But no matter how I look at it, she's going to leave me!

Something worse: deep down inside, so deep I couldn't think about it, I knew something truly snapped inside me. I surrendered to a man like I was a bitch -- and for as much as I fought it, the truth was that I liked it..

It was true: nothing ever gave me such an intense orgasm as I got from being fucked by a high school student. Still worse, down deep inside, I could not imagine myself not surrendering to that cock again!!

I cried even harder.

At home, I went through the evening meal trying to act "normal," carrying on a conversation I wasn't really hearing, afraid I was somehow filling the room with the smell of locker room, sweat , and cum, afraid any second she was going to ask me to go take a shower.