Affair with Coach T

I was on cloud nine all evening and could barely sleep. I'd had sex for the first time and it was with the hottest man alive. Coach Randy Thompson. A hunk of an ex-jock daddy, standing 6'3" and still with the fit meaty bulk of well-hewn muscle. Family man, all around great guy. Horndog who was open to sex with his players.

At least one player. I lay in my bed processing my emotions and stroked my dick again. I thought of what Coach said about being a three-times a day kind of man. I was at least that myself. With a lewd thought I fantasized about taking care of the man three times a day. At least.

I shot, sperming my stomach. I breathed heavily. I wouldn't say guilt set in, but I remembered RJ and his older sister, who was off at college now. I remembered Mr. Mitchell who was always super nice to me. I had a second of worry that he and Coach would end up divorcing, but then I remembered how much Coach emphasized that sex was a secret. This was a man who wanted to keep having his fun on the side.

I was surprisingly OK with that. It's like I had two fantasies. The white picket fence fantasy of having a dude like Mr. Mitchell being my husband, having a family maybe. Then there was the fantasy of sex with a hot man. Lots of sex.

That was in the back of my head the next day when I saw RJ at school and hung at out lunch with our normal pack of friends. I may have felt different inside, and I had a new knowledge of RJ's dad. But it was like any normal day, talking about boring stuff. RJ was in a great mood, which I chalked up to his date the night before. Maybe he got laid or at least a blow job. I don't know, he and and I didn't go into specifics about that kind of stuff.

It was Friday and our team had an away game that evening. We packed onto the bus, and I felt an excited energy just seeing Coach T again. I did my best to act normal. Coach had no problem, though. He was just normal Coach, joking with the guys, joking with me, giving us a pep talk for the game that evening.

I had this anticipation the whole evening. Like I wanted something to happen between me and Coach again, but knowing we wouldn't have the chance. Even if he wanted to, though his behavior the night before made me think he did.

Now, he was in pure coach mode, and the friendly supportive figure was replaced with game day Randy Thompson. Yelling at us from the sideline, jumping up and down, face red as we messed up one play after another. We were a better team and ended up winning in the end, but it wasn't a pretty win.

Coach T seemed quiet in the locker room. We knew he'd be back to his joking self on Monday. Or Tuesday maybe. For now, we knew he wasn't happy.

After we showered up and dressed we filed back out of the locker room. There were a few parents waiting there to congratulate us. They'd driven the half hour to cheer us on. My parents were there, Jeff Kennedy's folks, Micah Carlson's, maybe another family.

And Mr. Mitchell. Being the supportive husband. Looking great in his casual jeans and St. Michaels sweatshirt. Clearly proud of Randy. Fuck.

As I walked toward the group, I felt Coach T step beside me. He placed his hand on my shoulder. An innocent gesture, like he'd done a million times. "Brian played a great game, Mr. and Mrs. Chambers," he said to my parents. It was true. I had a pretty good game.

"We saw," Dad beamed. My parents were great. They weren't football mad, but they encouraged me.

At that moment, Coach's hand slipped from its perch and paused a second at the back of his neck. Then I felt it, the movement of his fingers. Caressing my short hairs there, just like he had the night before, when I was blowing him.

Damn, boner city. The others couldn't see, but that touch was surreptitious and naughty as hell. With Mr. Mitchell and my parents right there.

Then the man's mitt of a hand was gone, and he was stepping up to his husband. "Hey babe," he said in a playful growl and met Mr. Mitchell for a peck of a kiss. Then he proceeded to talk to the other parents. Hand draped over his husband's shoulder. Just like everything was normal.

Maybe for Coach T, everything was normal. Maybe he always traded blowjobs with a player and flirted with him, then went back to everyday life.

My heart pounded, and I did my best to act normal. I ended up riding back with my parents, and stopping at the school to pick my car up.

You better believe I stroked off twice that evening.


****

I couldn't resist it. I texted RJ the next day and asked if we wanted to play video games. He had just gotten a new one, and it seemed like a good pretext. Maybe he had plans with his girlfriend, or maybe he'd want to come to my place, but it wasn't out of the ordinary to ask.

He told me to come on over. Fuck, I was so excited. Nothing probably would happen with Coach T, but I'd get a chance to see him again out of school. That surreptitious flirtation stuck in my mind, and I just knew that Coach would find a way to do something like that again.

I was in luck. When I got there, Coach was out in the front yard, raking leaves. He was in casual jeans and sweatshirt, looking incredible. I know not all gay couples divide their chores like a straight couple, but I knew Mr. Mitchell took care of the cooking around the household. I wasn't surprised to see Coach doing the yard work.

"Hey Brian," he greeted with a grin. "RJ told me you'd be coming over."

I nodded. God this man was beautiful. Even knowing he was a total schmuck didn't diminish his attractiveness in my eye. "Yessir. Hope you don't mind," I replied.

"Not at all," the man said. Our eye contact was heavy and Coach gave a hint of a smile. I did, too. "Listen... feel like helping me out?" he asked, with heavy double entendre. "I got some things I need from the shed."

"Sure, Coach," I offered. Probably no one was in earshot to listen, but I played along.

We'd barely stepped into that shed when Coach T started unbuttoning his jeans. "We don't have long," he urged me as soon as he shut the door. "I'll suck you first," he grunted.

I was rock hard when I pulled my cock out. Coach squatted down and took me into his expert mouth. Mr. Mitchell was a lucky dude, I thought, to have a cocksucker as skilled as Coach Thompson. Then again I realized he probably wasn't that lucky if his husband was cheating on him.

I wanted to hold back, but I knew we were pressed for time. So I let loose. Coach brought me off quick, anyway. He actually pulled back to suckle at the head as I nutted. I think he wanted to taste me.

He was turned on like mad as we swapped places. His dick had been soft when we started but now that monster was rock hard. "OK if I go rough like last time?" he asked, urgently.

I wasn't sure how rough was rough, but I enjoyed our previous time and got off thinking about how Coach had taken charge fucking my face. I nodded.

He speared right into my mouth and I choked a little. Thankfully not gagged, but I coughed on that huge meat. Coach got the picture and held steady until I was ready. Then he started fucking my skull. Just holding my head and pumping into my mouth and throat with steady, shallow thrusts.

"Motherfuck!" he cried in a whisper. And like that I was getting fed my second helping of married coach cream.

He seemed surprisingly out of breath when he pulled out, his penis long and thick still and coated with sperm and spit. With a cocky grin, he tucked back in and redid his jeans. "You got a hot mouth, Chambers."

"Yeah, you too, Coach," I said, which made the big man laugh. Regaining his composure he dug around for some yard bags and handed me a couple.

"Thanks for helping me out, kiddo," he winked.

And we walked out into the yard like I was just helping this man with his yard work.

****

Mr. Mitchell popped his head into the family den as RJ and I were playing our game. "Sorry to bother you boys, but I wanted to ask Brian if he wanted to stay for dinner." My family didn't always have sit down dinners together, but it was a big deal for RJ's family.

I looked outside and saw the light was getting dimmer. RJ and I had been playing longer than I expected. I told Mr. Mitchell I'd text my parents to see. I heard back a few minutes later and then went up to the kitchen. RJ's father was there. I felt a little bad for trading blowjobs with his husband earlier, but a wicked part of me thought this guy brought it on himself. I'd be sucking Randy Thompson off several times a day if I had the chance.

"My parents say it's OK, Mr. Mitchell. As long as I'm not putting you out or anything." Like I say, I was always super polite in the Thompson-Mitchell house.

Mr. Mitchell gave me a friendly smile. "No trouble at all, Brian. It'll just be burgers, but you're welcome to stay."

Come dinner time, I washed my hands and joined RJ and Mr. Mitchell at the kitchen table. Coach T came in from the deck with a plate of burgers right off the grill. As he set the tray down on the table, he leaned in and gave Mr. Mitchell a peck of a kiss on side of his face.

"What's that for?" Mr. Mitchell laughed.

Coach T settled his muscular body in the chair and just said. "What? I can't show my husband some affection?" He had that same endearing mock-gruff tone he'd use with the guys on the team. I wondered if Mr. Mitchell ever got sick of it. I suspected he didn't.

RJ laughed, and Mr. Mitchell blushed.

And as we passed around the buns and toppings I felt Coach's leg nudge up against my calf, playing footsy under the table.


****

I was in the locker room joking around with my close friends on the team: RJ, Tony Masterson, and Billy Cordell. We'd just showered off after practice and getting to our lockers. I'm pretty good at turning off my sexual desire when I'm in the locker room and could see my friends and teammates as just that. Maybe it was a coping mechanism, but I did respect them and figured they were straight and didn't need some gay dude eyeing them up at every chance. Besides, I didn't want to get a hardon in the locker room.

That day, though, I did get a naughty thrill surreptitiously checking out RJ. Coach was right - my buddy was obsessed with showing off his build on Instagram. He had a good definition and good muscle for an 18 year old. I took a quick glance at his cock. Decently sized, even soft, maybe a little smaller than my own. RJ wasn't nearly as hung as his dad, but then I realized I had no idea who RJ's biological father was.

I'd dropped my own towel and started rifling through my bag for my briefs when I heard a voice.

"Chambers! You got a second?" Coach was standing just outside his office door, which faced the locker area. He was looking at me with a real poker face. Hell, even I started to think he was calling me into his office for a real reason - one of those heart-to-heart check ins he liked to do with his players, or maybe some issue with one of my classes, who knows.

I nodded and reknotted my towel around my waist and walked over.

I knew something fun was on Coach's mind when he wasn't at his desk but instead stood right next to the door with a big grin on his face. He shut the door as soon as I passed it and stepped up to me.

As quick as his action was, my reaction wasn't surprised. I met him directly for a deep kiss. I couldn't believe we were doing this, with the team just outside, but Coach's hands were feeling up my bare body, and I latched my hands to feel the muscle through his poly-knit shirt. Then Coach T's fingers undid my towel and cupped my bare ass.

Before, Coach had seemed very much in control, but now he kissed me with a real excitement that suggested he was out of control horny. That fed my ego and turned me on. Particularly as one free hand reached around to grip my boner, giving it a couple of tugs.

I instantly regretted that we wouldn't have time for a longer session, but the last couple of times I'd had a pretty quick trigger anyway. Even now, I had to take Coach's hand off my dick.

"Fucking 18 year olds," Coach growled as he pulled back and looked down at my dripping erection. He said it as an insult, but the tone suggested he was turned on by my overeagerness.

"You turn me on, Coach," I said in a whisper. "A lot."

The man winked in acknowledgement, then asked. "Think you can take a face fuck like last time, Chambers? That was so fucking hot."

I could and told the man so. I wasn't sure what I was doing right or how I was able to take Coach's dick that way. But I guess I was turned on around him and it just worked. I was glad to do something that made the man happy.

I crouched down and saw how incredible excited Thompson was, even in his coach sweats. He pulled the waistband down and the boxer briefs too and I saw that mammoth cock. Scary and beautiful at the same time. I felt instantly bad for RJ that he didn't get a dick like his Dad's.

"Gonna go a little harder this time, Brian," Coach said softly as he tugged at that fat monster. Again I enjoyed seeing the wedding band on the free hand that hung down next to his hip. "But I got your back, OK?"

"'K Coach," I replied. And took a deep breath.

Then my mouth got stuffed. Full. That dick pressed back to the entrance of my throat and just past. Coach gave shallow thrusts, like before in the shed. Urgent but not hard. Then as he slowly worked open my tightness, more popped in. Deep. Oh fuck, Coach's cock was snaking right down my throat and I was taking every inch.

"Oh Fuck!" Coach grunted. Maybe a little too loud.

Then he started fucking my throat. I'd never felt so proud or alive. I'd conquered the monster. Or it had conquered me. Same difference. Coach was outright thrusting into my face, holding my skull steady like a fleshlight.

The gag reflex threatened to kick in and urgently I gripped the man's hairy thigh. He stopped instantly and slowly pulled out. I caught my breath.

"Sorry," he said. But he still had that urgency in his voice. "Think you're up for another go? I was so fucking close, buddy."

I had barely nodded when Coach's hardon pressed back in. He resumed his stance with his hands cupping my head.

I don't know why sex like this was so hot. Maybe it was just Coach. But I crouched and felt my own dick rockhard as the man's thrusts became faster and his big meat was almost a plunger in my throat.

Then his body tensed and his thrusts stopped and I knew Coach was nutting, big. I could even feel the pulsing of his cock along my tongue and I moaned in excitement.

The man had the most grateful look on his face when he pulled out. "Stand up, Chambers," he ordered.

It took me longer to get to my feet than it took Coach to get on his knees. I was looking forward to Coach blowing me. Only he placed his hands on my hips. "Turn around," he said.

I did. I had seen rimming in porn videos but it was still a surprise when I felt Coach's strong hands pry my ass cheeks apart then his tongue lick all up in my crack.

The licking became full-out munching. I wasn't just receiving my first rim job, I was getting a master class in asseating. Coach ate me out like a starved man, his thick tongue jabbing harder against my ring.

I couldn't hold back any more. I usually prefer lube to stroke with but I spit in my hand and reached down. I didn't even need the proper lubrication. A couple of tugs and I was firing my cum against the cinder block wall of Coach's office.

The man knew I was having an orgasm and that made him growl into my ass. Then he stood up behind me and I felt a couple of shots of warm liquid splatter against my ass. Coach had gone for a second cum.

I turned around to see the man pull him his sweats up again and reach over to where there was a stack of spare scratchy white towels. He passed me one. "If anyone asks, we talked about your college plans," he said nonchalantly. "But they usually don't ask," he added with a lewd grin.

"Yeah," I breathed, wiping off and knotting my clean towel around my waist. I didn't want to leave but we'd both gotten our rocks off and I knew Coach wasn't asking me to stick around. Besides, even if it had been no more than ten minutes, there was no reason to make anyone suspicious. Still, I had to say it before I left the office: "That was hot, Coach."

The man smiled. "Fuck yes it was. You should give Dan some lessons," he joked with a cruel smile. Dan was his Mr. Mitchell's first name.

It was an asshole thing to say, more so after the man cheated on his loving husband yet again. But I ate up the compliment. Then I walked back out into the locker room like I'd just finished up a normal chat with my high school football coach.