Gay Erotic Stories

The Coach slammed the desk drawer shut, it had been a long frustrating day, doing the monthly financials for the team. On a Saturday, no one around, and he had skipped lunch and had had far too much caffeinated coffee! The coffee had kept him pissing every few minutes for the last hour or so, and he could feel dampness in his crotch from the excessive drainage of so much coffee. "Hell, I need a shower", he mused, as he ambled through the administrative offices. He knew that he was heading for the fridge and a beer, but just wanted to make sure that the office was all clear before he popped a cold one; some of the other staff had been in earlier during the day, and he just wanted to make sure he was alone. Reassured that there was no one about, he grabbed a couple beers, and went back into his private office, closed the door, and lit a cigarette. Inhaling it deeply, the tobacco taste was on the tongue and the cold beer was refreshing as it washed the tongue. He put his hand above his head to cradle it as he leaned back in his chair. The unmistakable odor of sweat from his armpit wafted to his nostrils, and he smiled and reaffirmed his need to get in the shower. The musty male odor, however, did not offend him---it turned him on actually---and he felt a stirring in his genitals. "Damn, getting a rise out of my own sweaty smells" and he grinned and rubbed his crotch and brought his fingers to his nose. Oh yea, there was the unmistakable smell of a man and his equipment there! Not an ugly smell, but pungent all male! He got up and went to lock the door, in a need to be totally private. He returned to his chair, then abruptly stood and shoved his cutoff shorts to his ankles, and kicked them off. He slid his thumbs inside the waistband of his 2xist jockeys and they slid over his hips and stopped at his knees. There, he gave a visible inspection, and yes, they had some visible bodily fluid stains there, a combination of sweat, coffee, and his piss. He reached down and stroked the basket crotch with his fingers again, could feel the dampness, and brought his finger to his nose. "Yea, smells like me", he smiled. In another determined movement, the jockeys quickly came totally off, and he kicked them across the room, then immediately went to retrieve them. He sat down in the leather chair, feeling the cool leather on his ass cheeks, as he wiggled them to warm the cold leather seat. With a beer in one hand, he clutched the damp-crotch jockeys with the other cigarette-held hand, and slowly brought them to his nose. Unaware of the movement in his loins, he became aware of his own full erection only when he took the jockeys away. He stared down at his cock. He knew what the cock wanted, and he wanted the same. It was the hunky muscular guy, the one with the Dutch name, that was making him react this way. His body had caught his attention more than just a few times in the shower room! And Coach was sure that his attentiveness was not going unnoticed. A few days ago, the hunky stud seemed to have a hard on as he pulled his jockstrap off, and headed to the showers. Coach had spied on him as much as he could, without being obviously staring, and he saw the tight firm globes of a mighty fine ass on the Stud, and in a few brief glimpses, he saw that he his idol-stud was sporting a lusty hard-on in the shower. Coach had oozed a cupful of precum, just looking at him, and the ooze was now flowing again as he thought about his student. Coach had pulled HIS jockstrap off that day too, since he HAD to let his boner free even though the stud had not seen it, and he KNEW it had been lying on the bench when he left the locker room to go to his private shower in his private office, and he had had a frenetic jack-off, just thinking about the Dutch-stud in the shower room next door. He had found the jockstrap that the stud had been wearing before he left the locker room, and he had tucked it inside of his towel without being seen. He had frantically hidden the stud's strap in his bottom desk drawer, under some papers. But---Coach also could not find HIS jockstrap when he later returned to the locker room, and it turned him on to think the guy had taken his, the Coach's strap. No one else was there---Hell, he HAD to have taken it! Coach was oozing a lot just now, thinking about how the incredibly handsome, bearded stud with the nice ass and the beautiful dick might---just MIGHT---have taken his jockstrap, and what the stud might be doing with it, too. Coach unlocked the bottom desk drawer. Yea, the stud's strap was there. He pulled it out. He held it to his nose. Then, he could not help himself, he had to have it on, had to have that pouch over his own cock, just like the hot stud had worn it. Slowly, he pulled it up. His erection was raging, and the clear precum was like a stream of sticky fluid. He pushed his cock into the pouch, forced it to bend inside the cup, and could FEEL the stud's cock as though it were in there with his! He closed his eyes, with a mental image of this guy, this beautiful beast that consumed his sexual images, firmly in his mind, and was almost unaware that his firmness was being held by his own hand, moving rhythmically to the dancing images that he/coach had of the guy, Jeff. Mesmerized, almost hypnotized for a bit, then he snapped to reality. He stripped the jock off---stuffed it into his own mouth, hungrily sucking the musk from it---and the noisy words of his wild orgasm were muffled as he spurted a load of his hot protein across the chair and onto the carpet. "Jeff, my stud, next time I get this hard, you are gonna be taking care of it!" Coach was firm in his resolve, and now was determined that Hunk-Jeff was going to suck his dick, for certain, and Hunk-Jeff was going to get this dick planted firmly between those two beautiful globes of ass cheek. "I am going to suck his cock and his balls until they ache, gonna make his beg and scream for release", Coach muttered the words. Coach was not satiated by this lost load as his rising dick would attest, and he sat in his chair again, thinking of Hunk-Jeff. He could think of nothing else, it seemed. His cock arose again to a full turgid tumescence, waving at the ceiling of its own accord, but this time, he firmly and resolutely choked it with his right hand, and closed his eyes, willing it/commanding it to happen the next time with Jeff present just so that Jeff could see how Coach's dick reacted to him---two men together with sexual needs! It had been a long time, Coach thought, since any male had this kind of affect on me! Shit, I am the Coach! I do not just let ANY fucking Stud turn me on! He shot a stringy load, gobs and globs of hot protein, and caught some of it on his hand, and put in the crotch of the jockstrap. "Yea", he smiled, "next time I cum, I want Jeff to share the experience." The jockstrap went back in the bottom drawer, and the lock snapped shut. ATHLETE: Jeff quickly locked the front door with the coach's used jock strap still hidden in his pocket and went toward the refrigerator for the first ice cold beer of the evening. He had been thinking of this beer the entire drive home from the gym where he worked out this afternoon and stole his coach's jockstrap. It was the kind of work out every lifter enjoys. His muscles flexed and pumped to the rhythmic movement of hard steel and he did extra sets to get an unusually big pump. He worked his arms out particularly hard that afternoon alternating between his biceps and triceps working them out to a mind boggling 18 inches of rock hard ripped muscle. After only a few minutes to get a drink of water and spy on the coach Jeff moved to the stacks and added some heavy plates to perform some incline bench presses. He peeled his shirt off before lying on the bench to get a better feel for the pump. He also wanted to impress the coach, who he was sure would be watching him, judging him, evaluating his progress. He added even more weight and hefted the heavy bar up and down flexing his chest with each movement. Without stopping, he grabbed some heavy dumbbells and started doing flys, feeling his hairy chest expand and contract with concentrated effort all the while hoping the coach would be checking him out with approval. After his intense workout, Jeff was feeling pumped and wanted to flex in the mirror to view the results of the special intensity of his workout. While popping his pecs and making them dance on their own the coach walked in. "I think it's time you hit the showers son," he said in his husky voice, "I'm gonna lock up the gym in a few minutes." "Looking good," he added with what Jeff thought might have been a little more than a simple complement. After showering and dressing he noticed the coach's jock strap on the floor of the locker room. He was sure it was his since no one else was in the gym that afternoon. Damn, he thought quickly while on his way out, he won't miss these. Hell, he might think I thought they were mine, and he quickly stuffed them in the pocket of his jeans with one hand while grabbing his gym bag with the other. He popped open the cold beer and took a quick sniff of himself. Shit, I wish I had remembered to bring soap to the gym. He knew he should take another shower, with soap this time, but quickly changed his mind. "What the fuck, I live alone," he mused, and besides, "I kinda like that natural smell." "Right guard stinks, and it's damn sticky besides," he rationalized. After the first beer, Jeff pulled out his coach's jock strap & pulled it up to his face. He enjoyed the fresh manly scent of his coach. "Damn," he thought, "I'd really like to wear the coach's jock strap." As the thought occurred to him his pants were down to his ankles and it was only a moment longer before he removed his white jockey shorts, then his socks, then his shirt. He was still feeling pumped when he slipped on his coach’s used jock strap Jeff's dick responded immediately to the feel of the cotton and the idea that this cloth had cradled his coach's dick all day. "I wish my dick was as big as the coach's," he said out loud, in a low guttural voice. "Shit, this feels good," he said as his dick thickened even more. Jeff moved to the other room with his weights where he had full length mirrors for a closer inspection. He liked what he saw. He liked the idea of wearing his coach's jock strap. His dick was straining and aching for some relief. Pulling the jock strap down a little and freeing his dick and balls, he started pumping his meat. "Damn, this always feels so good after a workout," he whispered to himself. He was admiring his massive arms while jacking his hard dick faster and faster. The muscles on his hairy chest were moving up and down with each stroke. "Shit, I wish coach was here to lick these pecs," he said louder. "Man, I gotta blow this fuckin load now," he grunted, his voice low and heavy with masculine intensity. "Oh man, oh man, damn, fuck, shit, oh man," he groaned holding the coach's jock strap to catch his big heavy load. Feeling better, Jeff removed his coach's jock strap and decided to wash them before returning them to his coach. May as well do all the whites he thought and located his gym bag "What the hell, I know I put my jock strap in this gym bag before I took my shower at the gym?" he muttered, puzzled. "Damn, you don't suppose.., nooo," he thought, "couldn't be, there must be some other explanation.