Home for the Holidays

"Really?" The old man looked at him, perplexed.

"Yeah. I never thought much about it until I graduated. But when writing turned out to be harder than expected, I thought back to how nice you were to me—and Zach—and I kind of wanted to be that person for someone else. I'll tell you one thing: teaching is harder than it looks."

Jerry laughed. "It's about time one of you kids realized that." He reached for the bottle and poured himself another glass, offering some up to Jake, as well. "It's really nice to hear you say that. As a teacher, you hope you get through to some of your students, but it doesn't always work out."

"But we've got to try," Jake offered.

"That we do," Jerry said, raising his glass.

They clinked the drinks together and each took a drink. "Listen, Jake, I can't even begin to tell you how nice this evening has been. Truth is, I don't have any family hanging around these parts anymore, so to have someone to share a meal with . . . it's been nice. Thank you."

"Don't mention it. You gave me an excuse to delay going home a bit longer. It's I who should be thanking you!"

"Glad I could help," Jerry said. "Never thought I'd say it, but I guess it's a good thing we both got stood up tonight."

Jake hadn't thought about that all evening. The conversation had been pleasant enough, he had totally forgotten that he had originally gone to the diner to meet someone else. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Who was it you were there to see again?"

"Zach," Jake responded.

"That's right," Jerry said through a nervous smile. He thumbed at his whiskey glass, not quite knowing how to phrase what he wanted to say next. He cocked his head and asked cautiously, "Are you sure?"

Jake didn't quite know what to make of the question. Coach Roberts had been the one to suggest it was Zach he was waiting on in the first place, not Jake. So, what was he trying to get at? "Yeah, we made plans—"

"To meet at the diner tonight?"

"Yes," Jake lied.

"That's funny," Coach said sarcastically. "When I went to the gas station, I bumped into Zach. I see him up there from time to time. He picks up shifts on occasion and happened to be there tonight. He said you weren't hanging out until Christmas Eve."

Jake's eyes grew wide, and his pupils dilated.

"So, let me ask you again," Jerry continued, lifting his eyes from the glass and staring right into Jake's. "Are you sure you were meeting Zach?"

Jake's first and only impulse beyond panicking was to feign ignorance. "Oh . . . right. Zach was Christmas Eve. I was there to meet—"

"An older man?" Coach asked.

Jake tensed as the situation became clear. "And you were there to meet—"

"A young man in town for the holidays."

"Fuck," they both gasped aloud. The look of disbelief on both of their faces was priceless.

"You didn't—" Jerry asked.

"No," Jake replied, shaking his head. "You?"

"Not a clue."

"So . . . what do we do now?" Jake asked.

A devilish grin broke the look of tired innocence on Jerry's face. "Whatever you want. I, for one, am glad it was you."

The comment surprised Jake. "Really?"

"Yes." He poured himself a bit more whiskey. He had had enough to make this conversation a bit easier than he thought it would be after he first learned Jake had lied earlier. But a bit more never hurt anyone. "If you only knew how much I stared at you when you were in my class. I just wish I'd known sooner."

Jake thought back to his days crushing on his gym teacher. "I stared at you, too. I actually almost tried out for wrestling one year just on the off-chance you were a hand's on instructor."

"That would've been fun."

The thought of missing a chance with Coach Roberts all those years ago pained Jake. It would have been his wildest fantasy come true. "Would you have done anything? I mean, if you had known?"

Coach Roberts shook his head. "Not a chance. Too risky. Wouldn't want people to think I'm some kind of pervert."

"Are you?" Jake asked, raising one eyebrow over the other.

"Depends who's asking. For you, I'll be anything you want me to be."

"Anything?" Jake's mind ran wild, but it settled upon the obvious. "How about a hot coach?"

Jerry stood up from the table and walked over to Jake. "I can do that," he said, before leaning in and planting his lips on the younger man.

Coach Roberts' soft lips pulled Jake out of his chair like a fish caught on a line. This was not at all how Jake had imagined spending his evening—wrapped in the arms of one of his oldest and steamiest crushes—but if there was anywhere he would've liked to be in that moment, it was right where he stood. His former coach's tongue pushed into his mouth, and Jake opened up to accept it, letting his own tongue reach out to meet the old man's. They were both a bit awkward, as neither had much experience, but somehow, they managed to muddle through it, each relishing in the realization of long forgotten desires.

"Let's . . . go . . . over . . . to . . . the couch," Jerry said through breathless kisses.

Jake pulled away just long enough to be led into the next room, the soft glow of Christmas lights emitting from the tree in the corner. Amidst the twinkle of the lights, Coach Roberts sat down on the couch, and Jake climbed on top of him, his knees straddling the coach's thighs. He leaned in, Jerry's belly protruding into his own, and kissed the man again. As their tongues wrestled with one another, Jake struggled with the buttons on Jerry's flannel shirt. They were too small for his sweaty, nervous, bumbling fingers, and his concentration was focused higher up.

Sensing his trouble, Jerry pushed his hands away and wedged his hands between them, doing his best to undo the buttons himself. "You're not . . . quite the little . . . twink you used to be . . . are you?" he laughed, referencing the tight gap between them.

Jake wasn't what anyone would consider large, but it was true that he had put on a few extra pounds since his stick-figure days of high school. If he was describing it, he'd say he finally grew into a realistic weight for his body.

"Fuck you," he said jokingly at the remark.

"I'd love that," the coach replied with a sheepish grin.

With his shirt unbuttoned, Jerry rolled Jake off of him and onto the couch. At the same time, he slid off the cushion and landed on his own knees on the ground, pulling his shirt off in the process. He was now wearing just a white, sleeveless tank—the thick, black-and-gray carpet of fur extending from his chest poking out the top. Jake reached up and ran his fingers through it.

"You like that?" Jerry asked. A twitch in Jake's pants answered for him. Jerry saw the movement and noticed for the first time the object that had been stabbing his abdomen moments before. "Hmmm . . . I'll take that as a yes."

Without waiting for a response, he reached forward and grabbed Jake's belt buckle. Undoing it, he unsnapped the pants and gave them a yank, pulling them down past Jake's knees and leaving him sitting in nothing but his tighty-whities. "I always took you for a brief's guy. Not those baggy boxers you kids wore back in school."

"I was already on the outs," Jake replied. "I wasn't going to wear these and take even more heat."

"I know one person who wouldn't have minded . . ." he said, lowering a finger onto the glistening head of Jake's cock. Pre-cum coated the surface, turning the opaque cotton translucent. It twitched again as Jerry traced the outline of it, making it grow even more that it already had. A smile spread across Coach Robert's face. Slowly, delicately, tantalizingly, he drifted his finger around Jake's cock, sliding effortlessly through the slick surface smeared across his head. As if tasting a sauce he had just prepared, he brought his finger to his mouth and tasted Jake's juice. It was sweet and sticky, like sugary nectar, and it only made him want more.

Without breaking eye contact, Jerry reached up and dug his fingers beneath the band of Jake's underwear and gave them a tug. The object of his desire flopped out, finally freed from its cage. To Jerry, it was perfect: about six inches, sprouting out of a nice patch of brown pubes, and with just enough foreskin to give him something to nibble on. He wrapped his hand around the base and squeezed just enough to feel the Jake's pulse. Then, he lowered his head and took the cock in his mouth.

How did I end up here? Jake thought as his former coach slid all the way down and back up his dick, grabbing the foreskin under his head with his teeth and giving it a gentle tug. Never—not even in his wildest dreams—had he imagined that not only was Coach Roberts interested in him, but that he would one day find himself sitting on the old man's couch with his dick shoved down his throat. It just didn't compute. Losers like him didn't get the hot teacher. That's not how those stories went. And sure, maybe to the rest of his former classmates, the gym teacher wasn't the "hot teacher," but if someone had to fuck the old man, Jake was happy taking one for the team.

Jerry twisted his hand around Jake's slobbery dick as he worked his mouth up and down it. His saliva had mixed with the pre-cum and lubed the shaft until no friction remained. With greater ferocity that before, he began squeezing and stroking while he sucked, devouring the younger man's cock like he hadn't had one in years. To Jerry's delight, Jake set his hand on the back of his head and gently pushed down, forcing the shaft down his throat until his nose was planted firmly in Jake's crotch.

Jake had not done that much that day other than make the two-hour drive down from Bay City, but the sheer number of layers he had put on in anticipation of the nearly thirty-degree temperature drop he would feel on the other side of the mountains—with the snow it had been even greater—had warmed him enough to make him sweat. And when Coach Roberts pressed his nose into Jake's pubes, he inhaled the sweetest aroma he had had the pleasure of breathing in some time.

He pulled back, letting Jake slide out of his throat, and lifted Jake's nuts until he could get access to the sweet spot just beneath the balls. There, he found more of Jake's man-scent. Sticking his tongue out, he licked the sweaty taint and tasted Jake, causing the young man to moan. The fragrance was all Coach needed. He let the nutsack fall on his face as he continued licking and dropped his hands down to his own pants. After undoing the buckle, he unzipped them and began pulling them off.

Coach Roberts stood up and dropped his pants, revealing a well-used Bike jockstrap. The white cotton netting was worn in the front, but not to the point of revealing its secrets. He stepped out of the pants as Jake looked on, mesmerized by the man standing in front of him. His former coach was wearing nothing but the white tank and the jockstrap, both of which were round and full. However, before he could reach out and grab hold, Jerry turned and headed down the hallway, his smooth ass-framed so neatly between the straps of the jock-jiggling as he went.

He came back moments later carrying a bottle of lube and a condom. "You want this?" he asked Jake, holding up the square package.

The thought of taking his coach raw was too enticing. "Only if you do."

Coach laughed. "I have the feeling neither one of us do this that often, so we should be good." He tossed the rubber onto the table and popped open the lube.

"Let me," Jake offered.

He stood up and took the bottle of lube from the old man. Jerry shot him a quick grin and then kneeled on the couch cushion. Leaning forward against the back of the sofa, he extended his strapped ass out in Jake's direction. Before opening the bottle, Jake leaned forward and planted his lips on the old man's ass. He kissed the cheek and cupped Jerry's package. It was full and weighty in his hand. He massaged the bulge with his thumb, feeling the two large nuts inside. Then, after kissing the other cheek, he stood up and popped open the lube.

The lube was a bit cold, as it somehow always seems to be. Coach's hole restricted as he touched the cool gel to it, then relaxed as Jake ran his hand across its opening. Squeezing more into his hand, he rubbed the hole again before inserting a finger. It slid right in. Jake felt Jerry's sphincter tighten around his pointer, trying to force him out. Instead, Jake stuck another in, forcing the old man open.

"Just do it already!" Jerry cried.

"All right, all right. Patience," Jake replied, running some lube along his dick.

Jerry turned around as best as he could while leaving his ass still sticking out. "Boy, I've been waiting for that dick for ten years. Either fuck me now or . . ."

"Or what?" Jake asked, cocking his head. "What are you going to do if I—say—take my time a little." He rubbed the head of his cock gently up and down Jerry's slippery crack.

"Uh . . ." Jerry had nothing. He had been bluffing. "Just do—-IT!"

Jerry moaned as Jake shoved his dick fully into his former coach's ass, immediately shutting up his demands. It wasn't the largest cock he'd ever had, but the sudden invasion of his rectum filled him up so nicely and unexpectedly, he couldn't help but let out a loud groan.

"Better?" Jake asked when Jerry went quiet.

"Oh yeah."

"Good." With that, Jake grabbed the waist band of Jerry's jockstrap and wrapped it around each of his hands. Once he had a good grip, he pulled his hips back and thrust them forward again. The inside of his former coach was warm, wet, and tight; the old man's sphincter gripped Jake's cock securely as he forced himself in and out of him.

A thin layer of sweat began bleeding through Jerry's tank top as Jake fucked him. All the while, he continued to moan, getting louder and louder with every thrust. The sounds of pleasure urged Jake on, filling him with carnal lust as he hammered down on the fat, old man's backside. The sounds of his balls slapping loudly against Jerry's ass only added to the symphony of sex sounds filling the room. As the tension built inside him, Jake leaned back, tilting his head up to the ceiling as he let out a thunderous cry, shooting several large spurts of cum deep into Coach Roberts' bowels.

The sensation was pure ecstasy—a fulfillment of a decades' long desire he had harbored since he was a teenager. He stopped, standing there frozen, breathing hard, his fully erect cock planted deep in his coach, sweat dripping from his brow, and he felt the pulse of his dick reverberating against the pulse in Jerry's ass. They were joined together as one, yet each still their own entity.

Jake let out a deep sigh, trying to recover his breathing, when he heard a tear. The jockstrap ripped, snapping in his grip and sending him falling backward, his dick slipping out of Jerry's ass as he stumbled over the coffee table and onto the floor next to the tree. After the shock of his tumble wore off, he lifted his hand and realized he was still holding the jockstrap in his hand. Standing over him, on the other side of the table, was Coach Roberts.

"You okay?" he asked, concerned.

Jake looked at the jockstrap again. It was full of Jerry's own creamy load. He then directed his eyes over at his pantless coach. The old man's five-inch dick stood erect, pointing directly at Jake. It wasn't very long, but it was thick, and it extended out of a dense bush of graying pubes; what remained of the old man's cum dripped off the tip. Dangling low beneath it were two large, round nuts. Jake had wanted to see Coach Roberts in that state for all those years, and after so long waiting, the view did not disappoint. He smiled.

Jerry smiled back, knowing the boy was fine. "I told you that you had gotten a bit heavier. That was my favorite jock, too!"

"Oh, sorry about the jock."

Walking around the table, Jerry offered Jake a hand, pulling him up to his feet. "You can rip all my jocks if you fuck me like that again." He then leaned in for another kiss.

When they separated, Jerry gave Jake a quick pat on the ass. He looked out the window and saw the winter storm's wreckage. Turning to Jake, he said, "You know, I'm certainly willing to try and take you back to your car, if you want, but it looks pretty bad out there." He reached up and rubbed the back of his head, not wanting to seem too presumptuous. "But . . . if you want, you could stay here with me. The bed's not that big, and I don't think I have much for breakfast, but I think—"

"Absolutely," Jake said, cutting him off. As hesitant as he had been to come over at the beginning of the night, the evening had turned into a dream come true. He wasn't going to waste any opportunity to spend more time with Coach Roberts. Not after sex like that! Regaining his composure, he said calmly, "I mean, I'd like that."

Coach Roberts beamed as if Christmas had come early. "Right this way then," he said, and the two men headed for bed.

©2021

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