The Legendary Coach Brooks Ch. 01

I received lots of disapproving looks from our parents and fans on my way to the gus. I did my best to ignore them and kept walking. I waited by the buses for my team and coaches to load up for the ride home. Not one of them spoke to me. Everyone put most of the blame on me. Fortunately, I had driven separately to the game as I had planned on staying at Tyler's house. I had to pay up for a lost bet now. I pictured Tyler waiting for me at his house still dressed in his coaching polo and khaki pants - standing there in some kind of power stance. Part of me hoped he would be dominant with me again tonight. After a loss like that and feeling as down as I was, I needed a strong man in that moment because I did not feel strong. I needed someone to take control and make decisions for me. Maybe that would help wash the sorrow away. It would distract me from it at least even if only momentarily.

I jumped in my car, but before taking off I checked my phone. Normally, I would already have a message from Tyler, but there was none. I went ahead and sent one first.

"You home? Just got done here." Immediately three dots appeared.

"Yes, home now. Several coaches are coming over to hang out. New tradition we started this year."

That was disappointing to read. I wasn't in the mood to socialize. I wanted Tyler, and I wanted him now.

"Your QB is ready to pay his debt to his center, Sir." The flirtiness of my text did not match my demeanor, but I knew my inner demeanor would get there eventually.

"Oh, you will. Believe me boy! You're in for quite a night. But you're going to have to wait a bit." Tyler responded. I sent a sad face emoji and told him I would be there in 15-20 minutes.

"Sounds good," he texted, "Just get that tight little ass over here!" I smiled relieved that Tyler was in the dominant mood I needed him to be in tonight.

The door was open when I got to Tyler's place. There were about eight or nine coaches hanging around with a few more on the way it sounded like. Most of the coaches were from Cedar Springs, but there were a few from Stanton Prep, a smaller private school in town. They filled the living room and the kitchen moving in and about with simultaneous conversations filling the room. Each coach talked at a volume a little louder than was necessary, but every football coach loves to unwind an after party on a Friday night. The week is filled with hours and hours of film and the stress of getting your team ready for the big game is tasking. It's nice to be able to relax, tip back a couple drinks, and relax after the long week (especially after a win!).

I grabbed a beer from the fridge and said hello to Tyler who was talking with one of the assistants from Cedar Springs, a guy who wasn't on staff when I was there. Tyler patted me on the shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. He introduced me to the other assistant coach. We made quick small talk. Unfortunately I had to be on the receiving end of a few jokes from Tyler about the game, but he wasn't too harsh. When the other assistant left, Tyler sneaked a squeeze of my ass and said, "c'mon let's head into the living room. Jeff is in there."

Jeff was the guy who replaced me as quarterbacks coach when I left Cedar Springs. He was a couple years younger than Tyler and I, but I had gotten to know him through the various coaching circles I was a part of. He was a good guy - very competent in his craft. The next 30-40 minutes the three of us chatted and caught up on life. We looked at some of the area scores mentioning the surprises. There probably wasn't a bigger surprise though than our game (not the outcome of the game but the lopsided score).

Another ten minutes and another beer later, and who should walk in but the one and only, Coach Brooks. Everyone's conversations stopped and the Cedar Springs coaches let out a boisterous cheer raising their drinks to honor their fearless leader. "In the flesh!" one of them shouted. To one not familiar with Coach Brooks, this would seem like an exaggerated greeting for any one man at such an informal get together, but to those who knew the reputation behind the man, it was par for the course. His presence anywhere. His presence anywhere attracted special attention. Coach Brooks entered the house and acknowledged everyone with the tip of his hat. He waited at the edge of the living room with his hands on his hips surveying.

"Here Coach, take my seat." Tyler said, scrambling out of a large recliner. Coach Brooks did not say anything but gave Tyler a pat on the back as he moved to take the seat. "Can I get you something to drink?" Tyler asked.

"Yes, you can, coacher. You have Bud Heavy this time?"

"Yes Coach, bought some just for you."

"Good man! Thanks coacher." Coach Brooks hitched up his pants before sitting down. I loved it when men adjusted their pants like this. It helped the fabric accentuate their bulges more. Not that Coach Brooks needed any help in that regard. The outline of his goods below the belt were always visible. I had spent countless days at Cedar Springs staring at this exact area. My favorite days were at practice when a strong wind would grab his shorts and whip them backwards revealing the exact outline of his big endowment.

"Timmy, I didn't expect to see you here tonight."

Coach Brooks' words snapped me out of the trance I was in and my head lifted up to look at him. I had been staring for some long seconds at that hefty package. I hoped Coach Brooks hadn't noticed.

"Yeah, I normally stay and visit Tyler when we play you guys."

"That's not what I mean. I knew that already." He winked at me. "I'm saying after that score tonight I'd think you wouldn't want to show your face for awhile." I averted my gaze and tried to shrug off the insult. "Oh, I'm just kidding Timmy." Coach Brooks leaned and gave me a playful nudge. I took a long drink of my beer to avoid having to continue this line of conversation. Luckily, Tyler returned with a bud heavy, already cracked open and handed it to Coach Brooks. He then took a seat in between Jeff and me. We were packed in so tight that Tyler and I were hip to hip while Coach Brooks spread out on his big comfy chair.

I took the first opportunity I could to escape that circle of people. I wound up in the kitchen where I chatted with the Stanton Prep head coach for a little bit. His name was Kevin Williams. He was a big guy, a little bit like Tyler's build, but he was wider and a couple inches taller. He was also in his mid-40s. His team was having quite the season as well. They were undefeated and looked to be a contender for the class 3 title (Cedar Springs and Richmond were class 5). I swung my coach's whistle back and forth on my finger as we talked.

"Knock on wood," Coach Williams rapped his knuckles on the table, "but I think we might be the ones ordering one of those fancy rings come December. Ain't that right Coach!"

I turned and saw Coach Brooks come and stand alongside me. The whistle I was swinging around my fingers with my right hand hit his thigh and fell dangling at my side. I gathered it up and put it back in my pocket.

"I don't know Kev, these things are pretty heavy." He waved his hand in front of him showing it off. "Especially, when you have to keep making it bigger so you can etch another year on it." Coach Brooks' ring had all seven state championship years engraved on the sides. "I might as well go ahead and make an appointment with our ring rep right now to add this year's number on there too."

"Normally, I'd say don't get ahead of yourself, but it sounds like you gave your former protege here quite the beating tonight!"

"Oh I wouldn't call Tim a protege. A true son of Cedar wouldn't be wearing blue and yellow." Coach Brooks tugged at the collar of my shirt. It caused one of my buttons to come undone. I hurried to rebutton it.

Coach Williams came to my defense at these words, since I didn't offer any. "Oh come on Coach, you can't blame the kid for taking advantage of a great opportunity. It's hard to land a head coaching position at his age."

"Tim knows I'm just teasing. Ain't that right Tim?" A hard pat on the back from him caused my upper body to lurch forward.

"Yes Coach. It's fine." I said meekly.

"Although, after getting your ass kicked three years in a row by the old man," he pointed at himself, "you're probably regretting that decision to leave home!"

I shifted my weight back and forth and looked at the ground. "It's definitely tougher than I thought."

Coach Brooks stepped towards Coach Williams and put his arm around his big shoulders. "These young kids, Kev, they think it's as simple as talking into a headset. Kinda nice when you see one humbled and realizing it takes a special kind of man," he patted Coach Williams chest and then pointed at himself, "to win on Friday nights." The two men laughed heartily at my expense and exchanged a fist bump.

"You know, speaking of special kind of men," Coach Brooks continued, "it really is a shame what happened to Wheeler." He was speaking about the fired coach at Richmond I replaced. "He was always a tough out on Fridays. Shame people are so sensitive these days. If you ask me, if you want to build a great team or a great program, you need to exercise a little tough love on your players. You gotta push these kids otherwise they will stay exactly that - kids. They'll never turn into men."

"I wholeheartedly agree, Coach! Such a shame!" Coach Williams either had completely switched sides or forgotten how these comments were indirectly further critiques on my ability as a coach.

"Let me give you an example," Coach Brooks let go of Coach Williams and returned to me. He put his arm around me and wrapped me in and pulled me in tight. I felt small and weak under his arm, and it was hard to focus on what he was saying. I was aware of every square inch of his that my body was touching. But Coach Brooks continued, "Timmy's sophomore year, he's running the scout team offense and keeps jacking up the plays. Our defense can't get a good look. Complete waste of time. I rip his ass in practice in front of the whole team. You should have seen the look on his face - eyes all read, lips quivering." Coach Brooks imitated this scared depiction. "Eventually I made him run laps for the rest of practice and pick up the equipment. I called him into the coaches office that same day and ripped him again in front of all the coaches. Kid had tears rolling down his face when he left." Coach Brooks paused, looked at me, and ruffled the top of my head, knocking my hat off-center. Coach Williams smiled but not out of sympathy but out of enjoyment from this embarrassing story. "But you know what, from then on Tim always knew the other teams plays and was a great student of the game. Of course, that never translated into on the field success, but it did help spring him into a coaching career. You remember that Timmy? "You remember when you were just a blubbering boy all those years ago?" "

"Yes Sir."

"You've come a long way since those days. You ought to thank your old man. Take that scowl off your face.

"Yes Sir. Yes Coach. Thank you."

"But," Coach Brooks said. He was not done dressing me down. He let his vice grip on me go and stood next to Coach Williams once more. "If you're going to keep that hat you got on there, you're going to have to develop a backbone. Stop slouching your shoulders, son. Have some pride. Stand up straight."

I raised up and assumed a perfect posture. It felt like I was in the army standing at attention. Coach Brooks analyzed my posture. He stepped forward and got right in my face. I stared at his lips purposely avoiding eye contact. My eye level only met his mouth anyway.

"That's good son, that looks much better." He threw his bottle back and emptied the last of its contents. "Here," he said, "throw this away for me."

"Yes Coach."

"Good boy." He said this in a volume only I could hear. He moved past me and joined the other coaches in the living room. I was left standing there with Coach Williams.

"Cheer up Tim. We've all gotten our asses handed to us by Coach Brooks. That's just his style. He's a good man deep down. Look what he's done for the community. Look at what he's done for you." Kevin pointed at the Richmond logo on my shirt. I agreed with him and took his advice. I left to go throw away Coach Brooks' empty bottle.

I meandered around for a few more minutes and finished off my third beer. My tank was full at that point, and I desperately needed to use the bathroom. The bathroom was occupied though, and judging by the fan that was circulating in there, I wasn't sure how long it was going to be occupied. 'Screw it,' I said to myself. 'I'm going to go out back near the tree line. Tyler won't mind.' I squeezed through the sliding door in the kitchen that led out to the yard, travelled down the deck steps, and found a nice spot behind a bend of trees nested in the corner of the yard. I checked my phone for messages. I didn't have any. I thought about texting Tyler something flirty or about my conversations so far with Coach Brooks, but thought better of it. Finally, I undid my pants and took up position for relief. I was just on the verge of firing away when I heard footsteps approaching. It was Coach Brooks. 'Fuck!'

"Looks like we had the same idea. Mind if I join you?" We both knew this was not a real question. I answered anyway.

"Uhh, no go ahead."

Coach Brooks undid his pants making a very loud sound with his zipper. I couldn't help but think of the situation I found myself in. Coach Brooks was one of the first men I ever beat off to, and I still used him in fantasies quite frequently. I had undone that same belt and zipper many times in my mind before. But this was the first time I had heard the noise they make in person. That extra sense increased the height of the current moment. I was finding it difficult to go. I was becoming gun shy around my idol. Then, there was the sound of Coach's powerful stream falling onto the grass below. It sounded like a damn fire hose! This noise further confirmed in my mind that Coach Brooks carried a big stick, but I wanted to see for myself. And now I had my chance! Could I sneak a peek without getting caught? I decided to go for it.

I turned my head slightly and tried to look out of the very corner of my eye. To my eye's advantage, Coach was turned ever so slightly toward me. His large forearm and hand did not block my view. And there it was! Holy shit! Coach had a monster. It was five or six inches soft (longer than I was hard...), as thick as a baby's arm with a huge hammerhead. And to top this impressive visual off, he was holding that firearm with the same hand that he wore his state ring - professional and physical prowess displayed perfectly in one image.

"Impressed?"

The question caught me off guard. I looked up. Coach Brooks was staring right at me. In the course of my adoration of his impressive member, I had unconsciously turned my neck more in his direction. I quickly looked away mortified at being caught.

"You're not the first person to stay for an extra gaze of this bad boy." He gave his dick a hard shake. "The big guy tends to have that effect on people. But let's be honest Tim. Did you expect old Coach Brooks to be sporting anything different?"

I wasn't sure how I should answer that or if I should even answer. I sensed he was waiting for one, though. I went with the truth. "No Sir. I didn't. Sorry for looking."

"There's no need to be sorry, Timmy. It's normal for a player to wonder about the size of his coach's dick. Especially after that coach bent him over and pistol whipped him with it all over the field tonight."

There was complete silence. Either Coach expected me to respond to this joke at my expense, or he was taking a moment to appreciate how uncomfortable he was making me. He seemed to relish in evoking this in me on this particular night. I remained silent, still holding my own dick, still unable to go. All that could be heard were the cicada bugs and the continued downpour the grass was getting from Coach Brooks.

"What's the matter, son? Having a little trouble over there? Did Coach's big hog scare the little fella over there?" I stared straight ahead and tried with all my might to generate some kind of stream, but I was unable to muster even the smallest drizzle.

"You disappoint me, Tim." His tone changed from mocking to a stern character. "Have some fucking backbone. Have some pride in yourself. You're supposed to be a son of Cedar Springs. Don't be such a sissy. You're a head coach dammit! Act like it!"

I continued to stare straight ahead. I wasn't even close anymore to pissing. Coach Brook's powerful stream finally stopped, and I heard the clanking of metal as he very deliberately shook his entire package. He was peacocking now. I couldn't help but turn and watch this performance. It was meant for me after all.

Coach zipped up, and I hoped he would turn to leave and give me some peace. But instead of turning to walk away, he turned and took a step toward me. He was close enough he could whisper in my ear.

"Is that what happened tonight? You got gun shy? Your little nub ran and tucked itself inside your body. Too scared to face the coach who used to ride your ass everyday, who taught you everything you know about this game." My mouth was dry. But I could feel my hands and armpits sweating. "Look at me, boy!"

I turned and looked. His mouth was stiff. His eyes were cold. They bore into me. He nodded his head downward. He was challenging me to piss with him standing next to me, with him so close I could feel his breath on my face. I looked away and closed my eyes. I tried to block this alpha man out. Ten seconds passed. Still nothing. I turned back to him with a defeated expression.

"How pathetic." He said in disgust.

I blinked back the first onset of tears. Old memories of crying in the coaches office came back to me.

"It makes sense though," Coach continued. "You never had what it took - never were a true leader. Always hid behind your teammates. You needed them to protect you. Needed them to make up for what you lacked." Coach reached down, knocked my hand away, and took hold of my dick. All the muscles in my body clenched and refused to believe. I held my breath. What was happening?

"Look at this little thing?" Coach rubbed the small head of my genitals with his thumb. "Do the folks at Richmond know their coach has such a small dick?"

"No Sir." Why did I answer that? Why did I humor his teasing?

"So this is what you run onto the field with every Friday night? With this thing swinging between your legs? Well, maybe swinging isn't the best word." He laughed sinisterly. I tried to step back and move away from him, but he put his other hand on the small of my back and held me in place. Then, what I had been fearing from the second he took hold of me started to happen. My small dick began to stiffen.

"My, my, what's happening here!" Coach exclaimed. He wrapped his whole hand around my slowly growing penis. He began to lightly stroke it until it stood straight in the air.

"Hehe!" Coach began to laugh in a hysterical way. "Is that it? Is the little guy done growing? Fucking hell Timmy! You're not a man. You're just a boy. Just a small boy pretending to be head coach. Ain't that right?"

"Yes Sir. Yes Coach." At this point Coach knew he had me. He had beaten me down and humiliated me to a point that I stood there utterly defeated. He had broken me.

Coach continued to play with me. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, and I leaned into Coach Brooks. I offered no resistance to what he was doing. His hand on my back moved further down. It snaked its way inside my open khaki pants. It grabbed roughly at my ass over my tight underwear. Eventually, his hand moved inside my underwear and kneaded my bare flesh. My body swayed in ecstasy. I was barely holding my own weight. I had to catch my balance when Coach Brooks suddenly let go of me and took a step backward.