Gay Erotic Stories

The day started well for Kirk. With Kirk's parents gone, Tony had spent the night. Kirk awoke with the blond boy pressed snugly to him. It did not take long for Kirk's penis to swell and settle in the crevice of Tony's pert buttocks. As Tony slowly roused, Kirk had already been humping away. They groaned and grunted their way into the shower, with Kirk carrying the 5'7" track star. Kirk came inside his lover, and Tony blasted a load all over the shower tiles.

Once they left the house, however, they acted like "just friends". Kirk did not even open the car door for Tony. They separated just inside the school doors, to go to their lockers. Kirk wanted to lean down and kiss his boyfriend tenderly on the lips. But he settled for a firm, masculine squeeze of Tony's shoulder.

Last night had been one of the few lately in which Kirk had not been bothered by Charlie. Jesus! Kirk thought as he jerked open his locker. Every night, blackmailed into sucking Charlie's cock or bending over for him. With Tony, Kirk always topped. That's what Tony liked. But the feeling Charlie's jock prick produced in Kirk's rectum was so strong, so wild, that they frightened him.

Kirk didn't see the quarterback all day. He didn't see Tony either, but his dick stayed hard for all eight periods. As Kirk dressed for football practice--shoulder pads, jockstrap, knee-length mesh shorts--Charlie entered the locker room. He swooped in like a prince, with toadies and brown-nosing teammates swirling around and high-fiving him. He ignored Kirk.

At the sight of Charlie's tall body, wavy jet-black hair, and menacing smile, Kirk felt his anus twitch. As Kirk laced his shoes, one of the other wide receivers approached him. Dustin had some questions about some of the routes Charlie and Coach Staffly had recently added to the playbook. Dustin's wide, masculine face listened to Kirk as if learning from a teacher. He knew Kirk was better than he was. By the time Dustin, in his gravelly voice, said, "Thanks, dude," the rest of the team had left. Kirk watched as the other receiver bounded out of the locker room, his shorts flying, his very firm and square ass swiveling as he ran.

Kirk grabbed his helmet and headed for the door. Coach's office was empty. Kirk hoped he wouldn't be mad that Kirk was late. There was one door between Coach Staffly's office door and the exit to the field. It was a little-used, always-locked file closet, with health records and game stats of players dating back forty years. Only the coaches and the team captain, Charlie, had a key to it.

That door swung outward as Kirk got near. Charlie stood in the doorway, sneering. "Come in here, Kirk," he said. Not waiting for a response, Charlie pulled Kirk in by the sleeve. The room was dimly lit by a single, bare bulb. It was about ten-by-four, with a small space about two-by-five not covered by the monolithic file drawers.

The 19-year-old quarterback shut the door without letting it click all the way closed. He stood against the cabinets and made Kirk stand in front of him. The fact that Charlie was four inches taller was the only reason their shoulder pads squeezed into the space.

"Come on," Charlie said. "I need a quick blowjob."

"Oh, come on--"

"Kirk, I've got the videotape over in my locker. Don't look at me like that. Of course I fuckin' carry it with me. Never know when I might decide to show it to Coach."

"Shit, Charlie."

"Come on, cocksucker. We coulda been done by now. Get down there and blow me."

Charlie lowered his shorts to mid-thigh and pulled his athletic supporter from his jock. Then he hooked his fingers and yanked, freeing his cock, which twitched as it erected, leaning to the right. His hairy nuts had already risen.

Kirk crouched, with a leg on either side of Charlie's legs. Charlie slapped the now-turgid man tool on Kirk's face. Kirk was used to the phallic assault--Charlie loved to pummel his face with his hard jock rod.

Kirk gobbled half the stiff dong. He slurped noisily, sucked hard, to get this over with quickly. None of Charlie's abuse had ever taken place at school or around the team. This new development frightened Kirk. He definitely did not want to get caught.

"Yeah, cocksucker. That's it. Deepthroat me."

Kirk leaned back on the wall. His thighs ached. His neck bent. Charlie held his cock straight out for Kirk to ingest. In one quick swoop Kirk had the velvety glans probing the back of his throat. Drops of salty precum flowed down his esophagus.

As Kirk squatted, the sinews in his legs popped out. The satiny shorts fell away. He ran his hand up and down his right leg, feeling the silky hairs. He cupped his crotch, adjusting his swollen member, trapped in his supporter. Charlie saw the action and said, "I knew you weren't really complaining, you stupid bitch." He rocked his hips into Kirk's face. Nuts banged into Kirk's lip and chin. "Oh, yeah. I’m almost ready, cumrag."

Kirk's head fell back against the wall with a bang. Charlie leaned forward, guiding his dick into the gaping mouth with his hand. He panted. The door to the room opened! Panicked, Kirk gagged and coughed. His eyes opened as round as golf balls. Also surprised, Charlie kept his cock two-thirds inside Kirk's mouth.

Holding the door open, and watching them with quizzically squinty eyes, was a man, in his late 30's. He pushed his glasses up his nose and said, "Um, I'm sorry. I was looking for Coach Staffly's office."

"Oh, uh," Charlie stammered. "It's, uh, over, oh FUCK!"

With the vaguely handsome stranger still observing, Charlie's dick exploded. Charlie's legs buckled. His weight pinned Kirk painfully to the wall. The wide receiver had no choice but to squat there and catch Charlie's pass in his mouth.

When he'd finished, Charlie looked at the curious stranger and breathlessly said, "Coach's office is around the corner."

"Thank you," the mellow-voiced man said. Gently he shut the door.

Kirk didn't know if the man had seen the semen spilling from his lips. Charlie roughly withdrew from the sticky mouth. "Come on, shitface. We got practice. And don't poke anyone's eye out with that boner of yours."

Kirk grunted and groaned through practice, all the while sporting a curled-up hardness in his jock. With all the muscular boys throwing themselves at him, he had to adjust himself often, hoping that no one noticed. At one point, Dustin said to him, "What's the matter, Kirk? Forget to jerk off this morning?" After that he let his erection sit untouched for over an hour.

He jogged happily back to the locker room. His hair matted his forehead like wet seaweed after high tide. He looked forward to undressing, showering quickly, and getting the fuck out of there. Hopefully, no one would really notice a showering jock with a hard-on. It happened all the time.

When passing the file room, Kirk stayed against the wall, far from the door. As his sweaty teammates passed by, their heat and musk rolled over him like the tide washing over a discarded shell. His tumescence would not cease.

Coach called out, "Kirk! In my office! Now!"

Kirk sighed. He rounded the corner and there was Coach Staffly, hulking in the doorway to his office. Despite the stern tone in which he had spoken, Coach had his usual good-natured smirk on his tanned, lined face. His steel gray eyes honed in on Mitch as the young athlete, helmet in hand, approached. Coach Staffly's arms uncrossed, exposing his pumped-out pecs and deltoids straining to punch out of his board of ed. T-shirt. His nipples poked like two Hershey's kisses, Kirk thought, before realizing he was scoping out his own coach! Coach smiled as Kirk snapped his gaze up to the older man's eyes.

Kirk stammered, "Coach, I know, I wasn't concentrating. I--"

Coach put a hand on the jock's shoulder pad. "Don't worry about it, Kirk," his raspy baritone intoned. "There's someone I'd like you to meet." He lightly touched Kirk's sweaty cheek as he motioned into his office. Even that simple motion made his bicep tense.

Kirk tripped when he saw the handsome eavesdropper perched on the edge of Coach's desk. Coach Staffly quickly grabbed Kirk's pads and prevented him from falling. Coach held him close to his own body as the door shut behind them.

Coach introduced the inadvertent voyeur as Paul Katredes, his college roommate who was now a scout for a big university. "He was watching you today, Kirk."

"At practice," the scout added, as Kirk blushed. "I liked what I saw."

As Kirk shook the man's hand he mentally slapped himself. He'd been so distracted; he had not noticed the tall, slender stranger behind Coach the whole time!

"Thank you, sir," Kirk said. When he spoke, a drop of sweat fell from his nose and flew with his words, right onto Paul's glasses.

"Oh, shit! I'm sorry!"

The thirty-something man used his slender fingers to remove his spectacles and clean them with his button-down shirt. He chuckled. "That's okay, Kirk. I already saw all I needed to see."

Kirk stood with his hands clasped over his crotch as his face continued to burn. Coach moved around Kirk. He sat on the other edge of his desk, which took up most of the small, stuffy room. Kirk stood between them. He noticed the blinds were shut. No one in the locker room could see in. Coach liked the boys to have some time to themselves after practice.

Paul Katredes, the college scout, looked in Kirk's eyes and spoke with a gentle rocking cadence like a calm sea. "Anyone can see you've got real potential, Kirk. Naked talent." He folded his hands on his knee, which was bent up. Paul's foot was flat on the side of the desk. The inseam of the man's khakis was like an arrow pointing to his groin.

"And the numbers back up what I saw out there. You're good. Fast, strong, resourceful, intelligent."

"Just like I told you," Coach Staffly chimed in. The two ex-roommates looked at each other and grinned.

Paul turned back to Kirk. The teen jock admired the way the Greek man's high cheekbones sloped down to a narrow, pointed chin. His face was as smooth as the tile floor in the office.

"Have you applied to my school?" Paul said.

"Well, yes," Kirk said. His throat felt very dry. Both men stared at him incessantly. "But it's such a good program. I'd never get in."

"Don't sell yourself short, young man." In a fluid loosening of long limbs, Paul stood. He approached Kirk from the side. "Ted--Coach Staffly--tells me you've got a great conditioning program."

"You should've seen him three years ago. Nothing but skin and bones."

"Well," Paul said, "you're certainly in good shape now, Kirk."

"Good enough for a scholarship, Paul?" Coach said.

"I don't know. I hope so. But, he might be a little small, to be honest."

Kirk bristled. He was in the gym every day! At 6-foot, 180 pounds, Kirk had 3 percent body fat. The sculpted edges of his squared-off pecs resembled the front of Dodge Ram, and the sharp line down his torso was deep enough to get lost in. His legs were slender, yet granite-hard, and even the slightest motion forced the slimmest sinew to the surface. And his ass! What a piece of work that was! Two identical slabs of rock hard flesh, rounded out in the back but flat, dimpled on each side.

Kirk puffed his chest out. Coach stood up for his star player. "Kirk may not be huge, but he's solid. Show him, Kirk."

Kirk looked at Coach funny. Coach smiled, his thin lips pulling away from large, pearly teeth, just crooked enough so you knew they were real. "Strip."

Kirk winced but immediately dropped his sweaty, silky shorts. He stepped out of them, only then realizing his sopping wet jock made his swollen cock clearly visible. The thick eight inches curled like a squirrel sleeping in a tree. Kirk's face grew even redder, but neither man seemed to notice.

On his left Paul crouched and placed a cold hand on Kirk's thigh. Kirk shivered. The scout said, "You're right, Ted. Very hard to the touch." From where his face was, there was no doubt Kirk's distended pouch would be quite obvious, about six inches bulging in front of his body. Paul ran his hand down the leg, tightly feeling the muscles, then back up until his fingertips met buttocks.

On display like beefcake, why was Kirk's erection not subsiding? Paul's hand rested on the upper, outer part of Kirk's left leg. He squeezed vaguely. Paul said, "There's only true test of how fit a young man is."

Coach finished the thought. "His buttocks."

"Yes." With that Paul put his hand on the center of Kirk's left cheek. Kirk jumped, steadied by Paul's other hand on the front of his hip, right next to his bulging pouch. Kirk felt himself leaking precum as the older man's hand massaged his ass cheek.

"Tense for me, Kirk." Kirk did. Paul whistled. "Wow. It's rare to find a boy in such impressive shape. And not even a tanline!"

Kirk looked straight ahead. Coach sat on the edge of the desk, relaxed. Paul seemed to circle Kirk's rear. Soon Kirk's peripheral vision lost him. The tingles on his rump told him Paul had one hand on either buttock. Kirk kept his muscles tense, dimples in his ass.

"How old were you when you first started working out?" Paul asked.

"About fourteen, I guess."

"This is quite spectacular, Kirk."

"Jesus, Paul," Coach laughed. "I haven't seen you so awestruck since you first saw me naked."

"You were all bulk, Ted. This boy's chiseled."

"Maybe you should stop touching him. You remember what happened with me."

Kirk looked to his coach after that comment. Staffly sat with hairy legs wide. The corner of the desk jutted out from his crotch. Both groin and veiny thighs seemed constrained in the tight gray shorts he wore. His beady eyes watched Paul with amusement--which meant his gaze fell on Kirk's hands, desperately folded over his groin.

But what had Coach meant? Unconsciously, Kirk spread his legs more. With the ball of his hand he adjusted his aching erection. Now he stood more upright, almost peeking out from the band of his jockstrap. Despite what Coach had said, Paul had not moved his hands. They still gripped the athlete's bubble ass.

"Ted, I would never do anything inappropriate with a student. I've never told your wife about you, have I?"

Kirk nearly busted his nut when he heard his manly, burly coach and this handsome, olive-skinned scout had been lovers!

Coach didn't blush. He looked Kirk in the eye and said, "I know I can trust you, Kirk. Not a word about this."

"Of course, Coach." Paul playfully slapped Kirk's ass. Kirk could feel breath on his butt cheeks as Paul said, "You don't have to worry about Kirk. Not after what I saw him doing to another boy earlier."

Coach smirked and raised his eyebrows. "I knew he had a good reason to be late. Did you spit or swallow, Kirk?"

Kirk looked down, ashamed. "Uh, I, uh, swallowed, sir."

Suddenly Coach stood right in front of him. Kirk looked up into the chiseled face, the small gray eyes with wrinkles at the corners. The eyes twinkled gentleness. Coach's big hands enveloped Kirk's pulling them away from his crotch. Coach's raspy voice said, "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Kirk."

"That's for sure," Paul said. Then he dove into Kirk's sweaty ass crack. A tongue immediately lapped an inch above Kirk's bud.

"Ah!"

Coach placed Kirk's hands on the expanse of his 36-year-old chest. The man's body emanated raw, powerful sexuality. He pulled Kirk forward, bending the teen slightly, helping Paul bury himself deeper in the cleft of ass. Paul's tongue darted about like a nervous mouse.

"Would you like to hear more about what Paul and I used to do together?"

Kirk held the taller man's gaze. "I think I can figure it out."

Coach let go of Kirk's hands. They remained on the 6'4" stud's huge chest of their own volition. Gently Paul pushed the teen's body forward. Kirk let him, putting his face on Coach Staffly's chest and finding with his tongue one nipple. He kissed it through the thin, gray cotton shirt Coach wore. Paul moaned into the jock's crevice, his tongue searching now below his anus, near the cotton pouch barely containing the boy's sac . Coach ran his hands through Kirk's short black hair. He said, "Don't do anything you don't want to do, Kirk."

Kirk responded by nibbling on the hard nub in his mouth.

Paul pulled away from his tasty treat to say, "Ted, you remember that time, when we were seniors, we found that freshman spying on us in the locker room?"

"Yeah, yeah. That runt didn't know what he was in for, did he?"

"Kid screamed like a banshee." The hot mouth returned to Kirk's rosebud, clamping down on it and pushing a wide shovel into the clamped membrane. Tongue swirled and caressed.

"It's been a long time since I had a good man-on-man threeway. But, one thing first." Coach moved away. Kirk opened his eyes. A globe of spit fell from his gaping fish lips. The tongue teasing his anus pushed words out of his mouth.

Coach locked the office door. He peeked out from the blinds to check their privacy. It was assured. "The guys are showering. Shit! What a sight!" When he returned to Kirk, his shirt was off. Kirk drooled at the immense chest with the shortly trimmed hairs. Veins popped out around the armpits and all up and down Coach's arms like a roadmap. His body was wider than Kirk's shoulder pads.

Coach whispered, "Would you like to suck your coach's cock?"

Kirk nodded. Coach bent to lower his shorts to his ankles. Kirk got a great view of his broad, triangular back. Devoid of hair, his shoulders grew an abundance of freckles. When coach stood again, Kirk immediately reached out and palmed the man's penis.

His hand made it all the way around--barely. The thick veins felt weird sliding in Kirk's hand as he jerked the ten-inch fuckpole once, then slid back down, pulling the thick foreskin, trailing a rivulet of fluid down the bottle-thick shaft. He held the ramrod at the base, tugging slightly, letting the erect cock point out a little. A low-riding, baseball-sized scrotum tickled with its stiff hairs. Kirk leaned down and swirled his tongue over the exposed head. Coach sat on the desk.

At the moment Kirk took the blunt glans in his mouth, a tongue pierced his asshole. He moaned. Coach pet his head. Kirk had never tried to ingest such a huge piece of man. His cheeks and eyes bulged as he slid down on it. He went slowly, almost painfully--the tongue exploring his asshole dug in much more quickly! He felt like he was being fucked by a small animal.

"That's good, Kirk," Coach said. "You don’t have to take all of it."

Kirk bobbed on four inches of his coach's enormous bone. Soon a river of drool flowed down the engorged shaft. Kirk tensed as tongue touched him deeply. A finger joined it, prodding at the teen's inner glands.

"Mm! Mmf!" he had to say.

"You're one sexy young man, Kirk," Coach said. "Do you like having your ass played with?"

"Mmm." He nodded, up and down on Coach's foreskin.

They all remained silent for several minutes. Paul's glasses pressed coldly into Kirk's sweaty glutes as the scout furiously sucked on the jock's slowly blossoming bud. Two fingers eased him open. Coach rubbed Kirk's hair as the athlete struggled to slurp up six inches of fat dong. Paul had his other hand in his khakis.

Then Paul pulled away, a bridge of sticky spit stretching from his mouth to Kirk's slick boypussy. "I think he's ready."

Kirk kept sucking. Hard. Coach lifted his handsome face. "Do you want to be fucked, Kirk?"

"Very much, sir."

"It's been a long time," Coach said dreamily. He lifted Kirk and kissed him gently. And Paul rammed him!

Kirk gasped. Coach sucked the breath into his own lungs. His huge arms wound around Kirk, shoulder pads and all, and held him as Paul began a passionate, powerful fuck. Fully clothed, he held Kirk by the hips and drove deep with an obviously lengthy sword.

Paul moaned, "This boy's tight. All over!" Pounding flesh echoed in the small, stuffy office. Coach kissed Kirk's neck tenderly, and then crouched. He tore the teen's jock out of the way. As Kirk's turgid dick slapped his abs, Coach Staffly said, "Nice!" He swiftly slurped the boy's throbbing eight inches into his mouth.

Both these older men knew what they were doing as they stroked and tantalized Kirk's charged-up body. Overwhelmed, Kirk leaned and put his palms on the desk. Paul gripped his shoulder pads and held the buff jock as his hips drove frantically into the piping hot boypussy.

"Fuck! Fuck, Kirk, you are incredible!"

The banging continued. Noise from the outside let them know the athletes were done showering. Paul kept on plugging. He breathed harder now. Coach's tongue kept on caressing. Kirk steeled his legs, trying to withstand the anal assault, as well as not buckle under to the awesome feelings Coach was giving his aching cock.

"Oh, guys, yes!" Kirk groaned. "Fuck me."

"God, I miss this," Paul said. He long-poled Kirk's willing, clenching rectum. "Fresh meat. Horny, hot boys. Damn!" He slapped Kirk's right cheek for emphasis.

Though all his muscles were tensed, and his cock as hard as marble, Kirk felt relaxed. These two older guys ignited his fires and stoked them, one from the front with sucking cheeks and stroking tongue, the other from the rear with pounding cockhead and whipping nutsac. Kirk panted and whined.

"Oh, shit!" Paul shouted. "I've gotta stop. I'm gonna burst."

Paul pulled out. Kirk looked back, begging with his eyes, winking with his anus. He wanted to be stuffed.

Coach's mouth "popped" off Kirk's knob. "You always were quick to blow, Paul."

The college scout stroked Kirk's back, below the jersey. "I'd like Kirk to return the favor." Paul shucked his khakis and laid on his back on Coach Staffly's desk. Behind his glasses, green eyes glowed, searching Kirk's face. Kirk jerked his overly sensitized dick as the Greek man lifted his long, slender legs. There it was: a tiny dimple inside firm glutes. A man's cunthole, with just a few wisps of wet hairs.

Coach, nude but for his shoes, stood behind the desk. He straddled his college buddy, who eagerly began lapping at the well-hung coach's hairy ballsac. Coach tugged at Paul's nips through his shirt. He looked at Kirk and said, "He likes it rough. Trust me."

Kirk dropped his sweaty jock to the floor and sidled up to the gloriously spread legs. The purple head of his snake reared up and spit. Kirk eased a huge drop of sticky fluid out and pressed the bubble to Paul's hairy hole. Paul moaned. Kirk rubbed in a circle, spreading lube and loving the contrast of velvet skin and scratching hairs.

"Fuck him, Kirk. Ream his ass out like the hung jock you are."

Kirk licked his lips and held his spewing ramrod on Paul's asshole. Paul squirmed, pressing his hairy cleft onto Kirk's bulge. But the man kept on slurping at Coach's balls. Staffly's throbbing tower stood straight up above Paul's face.

Kirk put his hands beneath his shirt. He thumbed his nipples hard as his pelvis thrust forward. It was like dicking a pile of hot clay: firm, and moistly warm, and resistant. The prone body pushed back as Kirk descended.

Paul arched his back. "Ah! Ah! Yes!" Coach roughly pushed him back down onto the desk, then felt him up. Coach lifted his shirt to expose Paul's narrow waist and flat, hard stomach. A trail of fine follicles led from navel to the cock that had so expertly stimulated Kirk earlier. A good nine inches of slim, cut manhood, bursting with thick veins and a huge purple plum dripping precum just below Paul's navel. Kirk watched it twitch as he kept pushing in.

Coach unbuttoned the shirt of the man sucking his nuts. Paul had a flat chest, but solid to the touch, like an ex-swimmer. He tweaked his nipples as the shirt fell to either side. Kirk held his legs higher and withdrew.

Then Kirk began his assault. He'd had an erection for three hours now, ever since blowing Charlie. He needed relief. Fast. His toned legs pumped and humped the shit out of the college scout.

"That's it, Kirk," Coach said. "Rough. Nice and. Pound his pussyhole."

Coach got up on the desk. With a foot on either side of Paul's vibrating, fucked body, he crouched over Paul's face. His friend rimmed him enthusiastically. Coach shut his eyes and let the pleasure roll over him. Absentmindedly, he jacked his 10-inch pickle. His lips hung open. Kirk leaned over and sucked Coach's stubbly pecs.

They formed a triangle. The base was Paul, his shirt falling off his slender, bronze body. One side of the triangle was Kirk, his 8-inch sex tool pistoning between Paul's hoisted legs. Kirk met Coach Staffly at the triangle's point in a tongue-sloppy kiss. Coach spread his legs wide to allow Paul's greedy mouth access to his asshole.

Kirk let go of Paul's ankles, and the legs remained high and spread of their own accord. Kirk, shoulder pads and jersey still on, rocked the desk with the ferocity of his thrusts. He had all the strength of a horned-up eighteen-year-old who'd had a stiffie all afternoon. Shit! Did he plow into the 36-year-old's willing, slightly resisting ass! Paul's legs wobbled all the way down to his pointed toes.

Coach said, "You good, Kirk?"

"Oh, yeah!" He breathed so hard he could hardly talk. "Nice, open pussy."

"Yeah." Coach caught a dribble of sweat on Kirk's cheek and chin. Kirk sucked the fingers dry. And still his dick drove him to a frenzied fuck. Despite years of experience, Paul had trouble taking it. The scout was forced to grab hold of something--in this case, Coach Staffly's big, round buttocks--in order to not be fucked completely off the desk.

Kirk couldn't possibly hold off any longer. His balls had risen so far they were almost inside him. With his mouth sucking his coach's face, Kirk pushed down on Paul's belly and hard cock. He held the scout immobile as his dick plunged deep and swelled. Paul yelped. Kirk gurgled a contained scream.

Kirk's kirking cock exploded. Jizz shot far and long, like a Hail Mary pass, finding spots in Paul's end zone that no man had ever found. Kirk thrust and thrust, came and came, grinding his body onto the sweaty, sticky form he finished fucking.

Kirk had to be held up by Coach Staffly after his orgasm. Paul, still chowing down on Coach's anus, wriggled beneath the two embracing men, with a hot stickiness spreading throughout his insides. It seemed to be charging him up--the scout's dick nearly stood bolt upright on its own, twitching against Kirk's stomach.

"Kirk," Coach whispered. "Will you let me fuck you, please?"

"Holy shit," Paul said. "I don't know, Ted. Remember what happened to me the first time I took that monster up my ass?"

"You were a virgin. Something tells me Kirk isn't."

"Holy fuck!"

Kirk's cheeks burned with humiliation, but he told them that yes, he was experienced. (He didn't tell them it was with Charlie.) Coach Staffly grinned as wide as his face and kissed Kirk deeply. Then they changed positions.

Coach lay down on the desk. He held his uncut 10-incher in the air and wagged it around as Kirk climbed onto the desk and squatted over the massive meat. Now that Kirk had finally cum, his body was fatigued. Every muscle felt heavy, like rain-soaked clothing. And his cock had gone limp. But he still wanted this. He made it onto the desk and positioned his open blossom over Coach's staff.

All four hands of the older men held the big stick as Kirk sank onto it. Behind Kirk, Paul helped guide the fuckpole into the tiny pussyhole. Coach closed his eyes and let the feelings wash over him. Kirk felt overwhelmed as the ten-inch cork plugged him fully. Paul held his globes, pulling them apart, trying to ease his ass lips open. They stretched to the max, engulfing the engorged giant easing its way into Kirk's body.

Paul said, "Take it slow and easy, kid." When he saw that Kirk had sat on Coach Staffly's pubes, Paul whistled. "You really are amazing, Kirk. That is so fucking hot!" Paul rubbed Kirk's back, up to his shoulder pads, as Kirk slowly rose on the huge column, and then just as carefully backed down on it. His body was full. He groaned with the effort. It felt as if his innards were being shoved aside. This cock wanted one thing: to fuck tight jock ass. And not even the jock himself would stand in its way!

When a knock sounded on the door, Kirk froze, with thick dick firmly embedded in his ass. He squinted in pain as Charlie's voice called through the door. "Hey, Coach! I need to talk to you!"

"Not now, Charlie!" Coach yelled breathlessly. "Tomorrow, okay? I'm in the middle of something!" There were no more sounds; Charlie had left.

Coach told Kirk to continue. "This is nice, Kirk. Slow and sexy. Yeah!" His legs shook with the effort, but Kirk was determined to give Coach a great ride. He felt his asshole stretch and cling to the rigid rod as he rode up on it. Paul helped by holding on to the teen's ass.

Paul pushed Coach's legs to the side. The man's hairy asshole perched on the edge of the desk, and Paul eyed it hungrily as he watched the high school jock ride that huge fuck stick. Paul dribbled precum down his own nine inches. He rubbed the fluid all over his dick, and then pressed the slick knob to Coach Staffly's slit. Coach said, "That's it, Paul. Do me like you used to."

"Just lay back and enjoy the ride."

Paul had to push and Kirk made his way inside the muscular, resisting ass. Coach grunted and took it. He had not had a cock up his ass in a long time, and there was some pain at first--eased quickly by the sight of his star wide receiver's tan and toned frame shimmying on his fuckpole.

"Jeez, Ted," Paul said to his college fuckbuddy. "It's been a while, huh?"

"Just give me a few minutes, then pound away. Oh, goddamn, Kirk! How can your ass be so tight?"

"How can your cock be so huge?"

Kirk put his wrists on his thighs for support and just rode that bucking bronc. He was a machine, with testosterone for oil and two bulging gonads for a brain. In spite of his growing fatigue, Kirk's dick was getting hard, enough to point straight out between his throbbing legs.

Paul held onto Kirk's waist as he slowly opened up Coach Staffly's butthole. The boy was incredibly smooth and hard. And he rode dick like an expert. Paul watched as Kirk paused and slid laterally, with Coach Staffly's prong all the way up him. Then Kirk began again, his shaky legs up and down, milking Coach's rod.

Paul hit bottom. His pubic hairs sliced into Coach's sweaty ass crack. The smell in the room was musky ass crack. And some sperm. Kirk's seed that swam inside of Paul. The scout clenched his ass tight to keep the precious jock jizz inside him. Then, with his legs muscles tensed, he began a slamming, smack-loud fuck of his old college bud.

"You're as hot as you used to be, Ted," Paul said, pounding away. "And wet. It's like a fuckin' swamp in there."

Coach Staffly said, "And you can still get rockhard, old man. Damn! Fuck away."

Paul pounded fast. His balls made a thumping sound as they collided with Coach's muscles. Paul wiped sweat off his brow, and then put his damp palm on Kirk's back. The boy was drenched, right there below his jersey. Paul looked down and watched those awesome butt cheeks clench and tug at Coach Staffly's heavy prick.

Kirk's legs were really shaking now. He breathed heavily. The boy smelled of rank sweat and a little spunk. Paul wrapped his arms around Kirk, and the teen leaned back, putting all his weight on the man's broad shoulders and slender chest. Kirk threw his feet out to the sides. Tightened sinews splayed out on either side of Coach. Kirk held himself up by his calves, perched on the edges of the desk. His feet hung over. Paul held him up as Coach pistoned up into the jock's hot cunt.

Kirk leaned back and opened his mouth. Paul arched his neck over the boy's shoulder pads and swallowed his tongue. Between them, Coach's stocky legs dangled, his big ass flexing as he drove his mighty member upward. All the while Paul fucked rapid fire.

Paul slid his hands beneath the pads and groped Kirk's chest. The young man was heavy, but Paul managed to hold his weight and still give Coach a good stabbing at the same time. Coach sweated on the desk and tweaked his own hard nipples. His eyes were closed. "Unh! Unh! Unh!" He opened his eyes just long enough to watch Kirk's dark pussy lips distend around his withdrawing penis. Coach quickly plunged back in, as the anus clinged to him.

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!"

"I know that sound," Paul said. He implanted himself against his college buddy's prostate and with all his strength, lifted Kirk up enough for Coach to get his thick ten-incher out of the boy.

With one jerk Coach came. His white goop flew high in the air, arced over his sweat-damp, hairy body, and splashed down on his own neck. Kirk reached down and gripped the spasming cock. It belched its thick fluid high two, three, four more times. Coach twitched. His neck and head lolled off the side of the desk. He coated his muscles with cream sauce.

Kirk felt some cum dripping on his hand. Coach wrapped his thick fingers around Kirk's and held them tightly, cum and all.

Coach lay limp. He opened his eyes and locked gazes with Kirk. "Sit back on my cock," he said. "I want you to come again."

"I don't know if I can, Coach," Kirk said.

Coach traced the boy's thigh and thumbed the dangling, limp cockhead. He smiled. "Oh, you will. Paul, help him out."

Suddenly, Kirk felt something hot and hard as a poker fill his rectum. He gasped, then let his body be flooded with the pleasures of Paul's fuckstick. Kirk leaned forward over his coach's body.

"You want this, Kirk?" Paul said.

"Yes, sir. My ass is yours. Take it."

Paul smiled and stroked deep into Kirk. Kirk groaned. Coach gripped his cock and rubbed it in the cum-sticky, matted-down hairs on his stomach. Coach's other hand took hold of Kirk's hand and guided them to his mouth. He sucked gently on his star wide receiver's fingers as the jock received a long piece of meat in his fuckhole.

"Still tight, Ted! Still fucking tight!" Paul slapped Kirk's hard butt as his hips moved in a blur. He had to get this boy hard, and fast. Paul could feel his own nuts rising, ready to lose a load inside this young stud.

Coach squeezed the boy's dick and nuts hard. They responded. Coach smiled at Kirk as he felt the athlete become aroused in his palm. Paul poked him deep, bruising his prostate each time. Each time Kirk's body gave a little shake. Coach told Paul to keep it up.

"He likes it…right there, yeah, shit. Look at him twitch."

"Twitch away, Kirk," Paul said, rubbing the boy's firm behind. "It feels great when you tighten up like that."

Tighten? All his muscles felt like loose rubber. Kirk was just laying there, with his legs out straight and his body bent over double. His abs were hard, and the rest of him seemed to be focusing too. His dick was now straight out in front of him, pointing at his coach's rugged face. Kirk closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of the long pole sliding into his softly giving tissue. He felt it push, then extract itself, then ram back in hard. All that twice every second, it seemed. Really fast. Paul's flesh smacked against his. Kirk felt his shoulder pads shaking.

Coach began jerking the boy's thick rod, hard and fast. "Oh, oh," Kirk moaned. "Fuck yeah. Fuck me. Ram me. Fuck yeah."

"That's it, Kirk. Get hard." Coach pulled painfully on Kirk's stretched cock. "Cum all over me."

"Spew, Kirk, spew. Ted loves cum baths."

"Oh, fuck me, Paul. Like that. I need it like that, bitch!"

Paul pistoned even faster. He put his fingers near Kirk's open hole and dug in. Some of his fingertips tugged on the boy's smooth nutsac, tight, up against his body. Paul pulled on it as he slipped his fingernails into the jock's pounded pussy.

"Oh, shit! Oh, it hurts. My dick, it hurts."

"Come on, stud," Coach coaxed. "I need your sperm all over my body!"

Kirk pushed back on Paul's pumping rod. Their flesh collided. Coach fisted Kirk with a circular motion, yanking the knob, twisting his taut skin.

Kirk's lower section was a blur. Coach Staffly's hand jacked him so fast, he could feel nothing but wind blowing all around his tube. And behind him Paul rammed him so fast and so effectively he felt as if he weren't being fucked at all. He felt like he was flying, lifted upon the fat purple cockhead searching for his trigger. Deep inside Kirk's tunnel, the club pounded and stroked his fibers. He felt it now, felt it like a key clicking in a lock. Suddenly Kirk's cock grew another rock hard inch. Kirk couldn't breathe. Paul kept on sticking, stabbing, probing, slapping. God! Kirk felt his scrotum rise, his dick tightening. The ache from below suddenly blossomed. Paul strode across his prostate. A strangled "Ah!" escaped his lips. He shot into Coach's palm.

Coach let go. Kirk's dick stood up and out at an angle from his tan body. With nothing touching it, the brown, eight-inch tube quaked and spat. Large globules of milk splattered on Coach Staffly's shaved chest and stomach. Coach wore a huge grin. Kirk leaned hard against Paul as his body threatened to collapse. Coach stroked Kirk's legs as they trembled.

Kirk could breathe, finally, after he had painted Coach with his teen cum. Coach rubbed it into his belly. Kirk tumbled forward, his face on his coach's chest. Absentmindedly, he dangled his tongue, tasting his own baby juice.

Paul yanked his dick from Kirk's clenching hole. He shoved his dick over Coach's semi-solid cock and jerked. "Get ready, guys," he rasped. "I'm gonna cream on both of you!"

Despite Kirk and Coach being pressed together, Paul got his dick onto their stomachs. It felt like a wet, slimy eel, and burning hot as Kirk sensed it throbbing. Then it swelled, and a moist heat spread all over Kirk's left side.

Paul leaned forward and gripped Kirk's taut butt as he came in between the two muscled forms. Kirk cooed as he felt the rich cream running up his body, gluing him to Coach. The coach murmured, "Yeah, baby, give us that jizz."

Paul kept stabbing deeper and deeper into their flesh as he spewed and spewed. Kirk kissed Coach's neck as they shared in the pleasure of being a cum sponge.

When Paul finished, and his spunk ran down Coach's sides onto the desk, he collapsed onto them. The room smelled of men and their juices. They stayed there, their dicks dangling, bodies heaving, lips searching. Kirk lost all sense of time.

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