Sporting Chance

"They do when you're fucking the blonde bombshell Lou Mansfield. Marcus has been porking her almost from day one."

"But Marcus is married! I've met his wife!"

Baker snorted. "You really don't know this guy too well, do you?"

"That's what I've been fucking telling you from day one! He was an instructor in the Ranger program at Fort Benning and we got along okay. He was the only person I knew in Georgia and I knew he was a high school principal. That's it, finito."

I collapsed against my pillows.

"I don't know, Baker. I'm tired. All this bullshit with Marcus and with you and with everything else is more than I want to fuck with all the time. I don't know..."

He grabbed my arm and the intimacy of it surprised me, his sitting on my bed in such a familiar way.

"Now see here, Jeremy, you're a goddamn good coach and a goddamn good teacher. Everyone at the school says it, the other teachers, and the kids. Just because they're not really sure about your relationship with the Nazi storm trooper is no reason to chicken shit your way out of here. You just keep doing what you're doing. Keep your mouth shut and your nose clean like you've done all year. Don't run away because of Marcus."

His touch was soft, gentle, and I felt his fingers softly caress my flesh while he acted as if nothing was happening. It was making me uncomfortable again and I pulled my arm away from him with the pretense of scratching my head. He stood up.

"And don't worry about if I like your ass or not. I've seen it enough to know I like it fine," he grinned.

I laughed.

He sat back down on the bed again.

"You saw me that day, didn't you, Jeremy?"

"What?"

"Don't what me, Jeremy," he said softly. "You saw me jacking off in the shower, didn't you?"

I didn't say anything. We just looked into each other's eyes.

"I thought so," he grinned.

He stood up again.

"Okay, you've got my cell number. Call it if you need something and either I'll come or I'll send someone. And I'll be here tonight around five. Is it okay if I take your keys?"

"No, leave my keys. Look over there in the top right dresser drawer. There's an extra house key in the box where I keep my change. That way you can just keep the key as long as you need it."

I don't know why I said as long as you need it but his eyes bored into mine before he turned to leave.

Later, after he'd gone, I carefully got up and went to the bathroom using the crutches. Baker had been so thorough arranging my care, so attentive, but I still wasn't ready to take a shit in front of him. I was woozy as hell and unsteady on my feet and I regretted not at least asking him to help me to the bathroom and then close the door.

I ate a can of soup for lunch and slept most of the afternoon. The medicine Dr. Harcourt had prescribed made me drowsy and nauseated when I wasn't sleeping. Around four, I made myself a ham and cheese sandwich that turned out to be a big mistake. Within twenty minutes I threw it up, managing to get it all over myself and the floor as I hobbled to the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub. Coach Baker chose that moment to walk in the back door. I hadn't even heard the key in the lock. He took over at once.

"Come on, you're already in the bathroom, let's get you cleaned up now. I'll take care of the rest later."

I gave him a blank look as he began to strip naked. I must have looked panicked because he laughed.

"What? Are you going to get in the tub to take a shower by yourself? Not likely unless you're planning on falling and breaking your hip. Come on, we're both men. I can help you balance in the shower so you can get clean."

I looked at his naked body. His body looked better at this distance and I could see the pale blond down on his chest that I hadn't noticed before. His flaccid penis was thick and blunt, maybe five inches. The forest of blond curls above his penis was thicker and longer than on most guys I'd seen. As I glanced at it, his penis moved and seemed to chub a bit. I looked up to see him grinning.

I blushed and felt an odd sensation in my loins.

"Don't think you're going to rape me with that thing. I'm not that much of an invalid."

He laughed, "You wish, boy, you wish. Now let's get those clothes off and get you cleaned up so I can mop up the mess you've made. I don't want this to take all night. I do have a life you know."

He helped me remove my clothes and I could feel his eyes staring at my naked body.

"Okay, let's stand up and I'll help you step into the shower."

He held my arm and took my weight as I stood. Baker was incredibly strong and his hands were like vises. As he stood behind me helping me into the tub I felt his penis pressed against my ass. He pulled the shower curtain closed and turned on the shower after testing the water. He obviously took hotter showers than I do; me, I'm the original cold shower man.

Baker poured shampoo in my hair and began to knead my head.

"I can do that."

"You can try," he snorted.

He was right. The wet bottom of the tub was treacherous with no bath mat. I let him clean me like a child. He used my body wash and his hands were quick and professional. I just let him rub me down with the soap but I was stunned when I felt his hand on my ass, parting my buttocks. Before I could even flinch his finger had lightly rubbed over my asshole.

"Whoa, chief, I appreciate the help but I can wash my own privates."

"Sorry, I was so into it I didn't think anything of it. Well, go ahead, wash your weenie," he laughed. "And do like your mommy taught you, pull the foreskin back and wash under it."

I was really uncomfortable. There was absolutely no way of mistaking what was poking into my back was his erection and it was rock hard. I quickly took a step forward, allowing him to still balance me, and washed my penis and scrotum.

"That's got it, Coach. If you can help me out now, I'm starting to cramp in my leg."

I wasn't really. It was tense, sure, but the muscles were not cramping yet. Baker held onto me as we stepped out of the tub and I took a towel from the rack.

"There're more towels under the sink, Baker. Grab one so you can dry off."

He got another towel and quickly dried off before turning to me to wipe my body dry. He didn't make another move to get too close to me and soon I was back on my bed.

"Why don't you just lie there until I can get this mess cleaned up?"

Naked, he walked to the hall closet and got a mop and pail. I watched him mop and clean up the vomit totally naked, his penis obviously hard but not erect. He saw me looking at his nudity.

"I don't mean to gross you out here," he grinned, "it's just that when I get this vomit all cleaned up I'm going to jump in the shower again."

In a few minutes he'd showered again and was back in my bedroom. While he'd showered I managed to put on a fresh undershirt and boxer briefs and was sitting on the side of the bed. He was surprised to see I was no longer naked and also, clearly his penis was half erect. He saw me looking at it and blushed.

"Sorry, dude, you know how it is. It's got a mind of its own and I live alone. I haven't jacked off in a couple of days."

I laughed and raised my hands protectively.

"Too much information, Baker, way too much information."

He was still blushing as he dressed. Baker bent over to retrieve his underwear, giving me a bird's eye view of his asshole, a tiny scrunched up rosebud with a few blond hairs surrounding it. I felt my penis move and it angered me that I was appraising his perfect body, that I was having gay thoughts for the first time in my life. I looked into his eyes suddenly to find him watching me check out his body; his eyes dancing with amusement and reflecting something else, maybe the beginnings of lust. I blushed and deftly changed the subject.

"By the way, what's going on with you on Monday afternoon? I hate to keep being such a bother, Baker, but I've got an appointment with a Dr. Norman and I'm not sure if I'll be able to drive or not."

He stood before me, fully clothed.

"It's not a problem if you need me to take you to Elias's office. Collins made the appointment for three forty five in case I'd need to drive you. If you're getting around okay I know you'll want to drive yourself. Look, I'm sorry, I've got to go. I need to pick my dog up from the vet or they'll charge me for another night. You okay for me to go?"

"Sure," I waved him off. "I'm fine and Baker, sorry if I snapped at you. It's just so hard for me to let someone else do things for me, particularly the intimate things you did. I guess I'm just too goddamn hardheaded and determined to be totally self-sufficient. Thanks, man."

He smiled and I could see relief in his eyes. I know he was aware of the tension and awkwardness I felt being naked in the shower with him. It's just a natural inclination to immediately quash the hint of anything gay.

On the next day, Friday, I awoke sore but definitely improving. A few massages and careful escalation of an exercise routine and I might be ready to return to work sooner than Dr. Harcourt had expected. Knowing that I was improving more quickly than anticipated helped to improve my mental attitude, thus half of the battle. I walked around with the crutches, took short steps, and I did simple exercises while lying in bed that consisted of little more than slowly flexing my muscles.

My simple exercises had a yield of painful aching muscles which wasn't really a surprise. No pain no gain in simple muscle injuries. Just don't overdo it. I decided to chicken out and do no more for the day. I read, watched television, and was about to fall off to sleep when Baker walked in at six. His hair was still damp and it was obvious he'd just showered.

"You look like you've been up and around," he grinned.

"Is it so obvious?"

"The crutches are on the floor by the bed instead of leaning against the chair. You left the TV on in the living room. There's a plate on the table where you were eating. Need I go on?"

"Who knew? How is it possible I didn't know Rick Baker is actually Sherlock Holmes in disguise?"

He laughed. "My second choice as a career was being a detective on the police force."

"But teaching won out, huh?"

"Coaching won out, teaching was secondary."

"Have you ever taught anything academic?"

"Oh, yeah, I taught math for several years until my predecessor retired and I became head coach."

"No shit," I whistled. "So Rick Baker has a lot more smarts than just showing how to throw a football."

"What did you think, asshole?" he smirked, "that I have a degree in physical education and don't know how to read, write, and do arithmetic?"

The amused look on his face was priceless.

"Busted," I laughed. "That's exactly what I thought."

"Thanks loads, dipshit. You're not the only one who has a brain."

We joked around for a few minutes while he straightened up my messes.

"Actually Baker, I think I'm going to be on my feet again even faster than Harcourt thought."

"I wouldn't disagree with you there except for your ass. There was micro tearing and although it's minor you've still got to take care of it. If the glutes don't do their job then it's gonna be hell on the back and leg muscles."

"True. Dr. Harcourt suggested I might use a masseuse for a while until I'm well. So you've got all the connections in this town, who do I call?'

He grinned and held his hands up, flexing his fingers.

"I'm the best masseuse you'll find in this town outside of the hospital. That or you can drive about forty miles up the road to the adult entertainment center and see if one of the girls there will help you out. Of course their idea of massage is usually to suck your dick for a hundred dollars."

"Yo, ho, ho, looks like you've got some experience, huh?"

"Not on your life. I'm not paying a hundred dollars to get my dick sucked. I can get it done for free."

"Right, like I really believe that in this town. I was warned about the morals clause in our contract by four different people."

"There is that, to be sure. Sorry I'm running late. Al Sumner's car wouldn't start so we called a tow after we'd both played under the hood. I took him home and then stopped by my house to clean up."

"Oh, so they called him in to substitute for me."

I don't know why I was shocked.

Baker nodded. "Can you believe it? Nonnie down at the superintendent's office called Al and he agreed to do it. Your friend Jughead was pissed off but apparently Superintendent Michaels decided to step in. It's too close to finals and over half of your kids are seniors. Michaels isn't going to let Marcus call that bimbo Cheryl Landers to fuck up all the work you've done this late in the day."

I rolled my eyes and he laughed.

"I know, I know. I never quit, do I? Here, why don't you roll over and let me check those muscles for you."

He walked over as if he had no doubt I'd let him touch me and helped me roll over.

"Don't worry; I know what I'm doing. I'm a frustrated physical therapist."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah, I actually was planning to become a physical therapist and work in a hospital like Millie does. She tried to warn me about the competitiveness of the field, told me I should just go into nursing like she did but I was young and stupid. And then in the middle of my junior year Sheila got pregnant and I did student teaching instead. It wasn't hard to change over. I was the quarterback of the football team for Georgia Tech. But my plans for medical work ended because I had to marry Sheila. Before we divorced she told me she'd done it deliberately because she knew I was fucking someone else, too. And here I am, prepared to use my skilled fingers on your muscles while I think of what could have been."

All of the frustration, anger, even depression he may have been feeling poured out of him in that one short explanation. I recognized it probably contributed more than anything to his usual brusque temper and was possibly eating him up inside. No wonder he sometimes seemed to absolutely hate the job and the students. I felt bad for him but it was the last thing I'd want him to know. He didn't strike me as one who wanted pity.

I lay quietly as his fingers probed into my muscles and I knew from past massages that Baker knew what he was doing. From his occasional painful pressure came gradual relief. He slowly worked my calf and then my thigh. First he massaged the skin gently until I felt my muscles relax before his strokes got broader and stronger, finally graduating to using his forearm and elbow to press deeper and deeper. It felt wonderful.

"Oh my god, Baker, that feels so much better. Man, you really know how to do deep tissue massage. I should know, I've gotten plenty of them."

"I'm glad I'm able to please you, Jeremy. Ah, so."

He bowed like a Japanese masseur.

"Smart ass."

"Speaking of ass, is it okay if I check how your glutes are coming along?"

I hesitated for only a second. "Yeah, go ahead; it's where most of the pain is."

He snickered. "You see? It always pays to stay active. Just sitting on your ass can only lead to nowhere."

"You laugh. I'll remember this when you're lying in bed with a pulled muscle and I'm at your house torturing you."

"So, you're saying it's okay if I check your glutes? I don't want to handle your ass without asking first," he chuckled.

I laughed. "Yeah, it's okay if you put your hands on my ass. Why not? There's no point in being a prude now after you've given me a bath."

I lifted my hips to let him slide my boxer briefs down and was surprised when he pulled them off me completely. I didn't say anything as he began to gently stroke my buttocks as he had my leg, preparing for deep tissue massage. Spreading my cheeks open he found the scar from the bullet wound.

"You weren't kidding; you really did get shot in the ass. I see the scar here."

The scar is just inside the curvature of my left buttock, well hidden in the thick hair inside the cleft. He touched it gingerly, rubbing it, and I flinched momentarily.

"It's like there's a little knot in it. Does it still hurt?"

"It's feels like there's maybe a tiny grain of glass or metal or something if there's too much pressure put on it. The doctor said it's just scar tissue and nothing more."

"He couldn't get it out or fix it?"

"He swore there's really nothing there but scar tissue. It wasn't worth the hassle and besides, you can't imagine how embarrassing it was to receive a Purple Heart for a wound in my ass and not just my ass but in my ass crack. It was the joke of the entire fucking base."

"But you can always brag that you're a wounded war veteran."

"Right; and the next question always is 'where were you hit?' I laughed. "I only mentioned it to the kids because Ricky seemed so traumatized about hitting me."

"It went over well. The kids are still talking about Coach Easton getting shot in the ass."

"Awww, that's just what I needed to hear and here I guess your next move will be to describe the scar in my ass crack to everyone so they can gossip about how scar from a bullet has marred for life the looks of my most perfect feature."

He slapped it and laughed.

"That's rich. So you think your ass is your best feature?"

I chuckled. "On the day we broke up a girl I dated for a few months told me my ass was my best feature. She said it was only part of me that truly depicts what I really am."

We both broke up laughing.

"I take it you two didn't end on good terms."

"You got that right. I came home from college one day and she'd decided to move out without telling me. I'd already decided I was dumping her so it got nasty fast."

"Good move. I can attest to the fact that living with a woman ain't all it's cracked up to be, pussy or not. The minute the ring's on the finger is the instant they stop putting out."

"The voice of bitter experience, huh?"

"It's sad but oh, so true."

Baker followed the same steps as before, broadening and increasing the strength of his hand massage before using his forearm and elbow to apply deeper pressure. As he pressed harder I yelped softly as I felt the pinching sting of the hair on my ass being pulled.

"Sorry, how bad does it hurt where I touched? Here?"

I shook my head. "Nah, it just felt like you're pulling the hair out of my ass with tweezers. Go ahead."

He laughed. "I think you got my share of body hair when it was getting passed out in the gene pools. Most of my body's smooth as a baby's ass and you're covered with it."

"I'm not covered with it. You make me sound like a gross bear. Anyway, women seem to like it."

"Nah, it's not bad," he said in a lower voice. "I've always been a little jealous of guys with hair on their body. You've got just enough to look macho. It goes well with your physique although," he paused, "it does look out of place on this ass that's as white as snow. Man, you must have the whitest ass I've ever seen in my entire lifetime. Has it ever seen daylight?"

"Screw you, why don't you just kiss my ass, Charley? I don't sunbathe in the nude."

"Is that an invitation?" he asked softly before he boisterously joked again. "You wish, big boy, you wish, don't you?"

He continued to push and probe and several times I felt the cool air on my asshole repeatedly as he spread my cheeks. His fingers slid across my asshole several times as he pummeled my buttocks. I found myself getting increasingly erect until I was fighting an ejaculation. Finally I couldn't take it anymore.

"Stop."

Baker stopped his massage at once.

"What's wrong?"

The glance between our eyes told him instantly what was wrong. My cheeks were flushed and I was clearly sexually aroused. Anyone with any sexual experience at all could recognize it. He slapped my ass hard and stepped back.