Chapter 15

I ran out to the parking lot managing to get into my underwear and shirt just as I pushed through the double doors into the cold air. I couldn’t find Brad anywhere. This was bad. This was really bad. I couldn’t even begin to realize just how bad this was. I just had to stop Brad and try and talk with him. What I would say if or when I finally did catch up with him, I didn’t know.

            “What the fuck is going on?” Coach Jackson calls out to me, wearing nothing but a pair of his slutty wind shorts, calling out from the door. “You forgot your phone!” He pauses for a second. “Wait, what the-“ He begins as his eyes wander down to the screen.

            I hang my head in shame as I watch the realization dawn on his face.

            “You’re fucking his dad?” Coach Jackson gasps, realizing the seriousness of the situation.

            “I’m not fucking him, I’m in love with him!” I yell, frustrated, spinning around wondering where Brad could have possibly run off to so fast. Our car is still parked right where we left it so he was clearly on foot.

            “This is bad, Africa. You don’t fuck your best friend’s dad.” Coach Jackson says somberly.

            “You don’t think I fucking know that?” I shout, rage running through my veins. “I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. I didn’t plan to come to this country and make such a connection with Brad and Mr. Williams! But it happened! And they’re both so important to me. And I- I- Fuck! Where am I supposed to go? What am I supposed to do now?” I yell, frustrated.

            Coach Jackson throws me my shorts and phone and I catch them, pulling out my set of keys and starting the engine.                                                                      -

            “He’s fucking my dad.” Brad Williams said under his breath, his fists clenched. “My best friend is fucking my dad. No, he’s not just fucking my dad. It’s even worse than that. He’s fucking his host-father. Who is married. He’s fucking the man who opened up his home to him. Ollie is fucking my dad.” His head started spinning. “My dad. Mike Williams. Fuck! Is he not happy with my mom? Is he gay? What the fuck is going on? My dad gets fucked?”

            His body was just radiating aggression. And even after shooting so many loads in Coach Jackson’s office he knew he had to take his aggression out somehow. And he knew just the guy who could take it. He pounded on the door before he even decided where he was going. His feet just led him there. He wanted to prove himself. In fact he needed to.

            Mr. Foster opened the door and Brad’s face fell.

            “Well hey there, Brad Williams.” Mr. Foster said, surprised to see the athlete. Brad had stopped coming over to the Foster household ever since Jason Foster had stopped putting out for him. The two were now acquaintances at best, maintaining a professional relationship on the field but not really having much to say off the field. Deep down Jason was probably embarrassed about his inner need to get fucked and had decided the best way to deal with it was to ignore it. We’ll see how well that turns out for him.

            “Hi Mr. Foster. Is Jason here? I really need to talk to him.” Brad said trying not to sound too angry.

            “No, I’m sorry, he’s not. He and his mom are in Oregon looking at schools.” Mr. Foster replied. “Speaking of which, where are you plan-“ He began before sensing this wasn’t the time for small talk. “You know. . .” He said sighing and checking his watch. “You look like you could use a beer, Brad Williams.” Mr. Foster said, getting serious.

            Brad thought for a moment about saying no. He needed to take his aggression out and he wasn’t going to be able to do that with Mr. Foster.

            Or could he?

            Mr. Foster held open the door and Brad’s feet took control as he walked into the Foster household.                                                                          

            I slammed the front door as I ran upstairs. “Brad?” I yelled out, knowing there was no way he had beaten me home on foot but desperate to know where my best friend was.

            “BRAD?” I called out, opening the door to his room and sighing when I saw he wasn’t there.

            “What’s going on?” I heard from the bottom of the stairs. Mr. Williams is standing there, just having showered and looking like he’s getting dressed for the event he had to go to with Kate and her clients.

            “He knows.” I said, staring at him.

            “What do you mean he knows? Who knows? Who knows what?” Mr. Williams panicked.

            “He saw it.” I said, tears starting to form in my eyes.

            “No.” Mr. Williams said, the color draining from his face.

            My knees buckled and I caught myself on the stairs and just broke down.

            “How could I do this to him?” I started to cry. “He’s my best friend.”

            “Oh my god.” Mr. Williams said, leaning against the staircase and clutching his head in panic. “What are we going to do, Ollie?”

            Mr. Foster handed the town superstar quarterback a beer as he opened up his own.

            “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong.” He said, apologetically. “You just looked like you could really use a drink.”

            Brad said nothing, as he drained half the bottle in one go.

            “Promise me you won’t tell Mike I gave you a beer, though.” Mr. Foster laughed, immediately seeing Brad’s face go red.

            “So I guess this is something to do with your dad.” Mr. Foster ventured cautiously.

            “Something like that.” Brad grunted, staring at the pattern of the tile on the floor intently, deep in thought. But then he looked up at the man sitting across from him at the table. Mr. Foster looked a lot like his son. His hair was greying at the temples but he had those bright blue eyes that he had given his son and the man kept up with his fitness. The Fosters were an old family from the community and were involved in all of the community organizations. They were the elite. It’s part of what made fucking Jason Foster so fulfilling to Brad. Knocking the elite Foster clan down a peg or two by fucking their only son. But now, sitting across from the handsome patriarch was making Brad’s imagination run wild. If his whole world hadn’t just been turned upside down 20 minutes ago even he wouldn’t have had the guts. But what he saw now was an opportunity to take back some of that control. To prove himself. And with that, Brad Williams turned on the charm as he sized up his game.

            “You know Mr. Foster, I know you could tell I was really having a rough day. And I was disappointed Jason wasn’t here to talk to. But I’m glad you’re here.” Brad said, taking a sip of his beer.

            There it was. That flash across the distinguished man’s eyes. The need of affirmation from a fellow alpha. The need to please.

            “I’m glad I could be here for you in Jason’s place, Brad Williams.” Mr. Foster replied, following suit and taking a sip from his own beer. Brad smirked, hearing the grown man almost getting off on saying his name. Like Brad was helping him realize some fucked up fantasy this grown, seemingly straight man had about the town superstar.

            Brad set his beer down and stared directly into the distinguished man’s eyes. The two men said nothing as they each sat there sizing the other up.

            Mr. Foster fumbled with the cap of his beer and said quietly, “You’re going to fuck me aren’t you, Brad Williams?”

            “Yeah, I’m going to fuck you, Mr. Foster.” Brad answered. He confidently reached out his hand to the man’s collar and undid the top button, revealing a small glimpse of the well-groomed, hairy chest underneath it.

            Mr. Foster gulped and his face turned red, not knowing what to say as he let the athlete feel him up. “You can call me Greg, I guess.” He muttered nervously.

            “I’ll call you Mr. Foster.” Brad replied, taking another sip of his beer. “Before and after you let me have your ass.”

            “Alright.” Mr. Foster said timidly, standing up. His effort to try and equalize himself and this high school athlete in his mind by doing away with formalities had been rebuffed. This jock was going to take every chance he could to remind him that he was the high school student and Mr. Foster was the married man who should know better. And he did know better. But there was no way he wasn’t going to get fucked by Brad Williams.  And fuck, if that didn’t turn him on.

            He started to unbutton his shirt as the cocky athlete stared him down. “Are we going to do it right here?” He swallowed, looking to the athlete for confirmation.

            “I don’t fuck men like you on their kitchen table like some shitty gardener fucks a housewife.” Brad said shaking his head and standing up. “They take me to their own bed and I fuck them there.”

            Mr. Foster winced, realizing he was going to cheat on his wife in their own bed. But he didn’t hesitate for one second. “Alright Brad Williams.” He said, his own cock throbbing. “You win.” He looks at Brad for a second like he’s having second thoughts before his lips are on the young athlete’s like a soldier back from deployment. Brad had locked lips with quote a few guys in his lifetime but he found no one is more grateful for his attention than middle aged repressed dads. No, Greg Foster wasn’t the first dad Brad Williams had pulled and he wouldn’t be the last. They just couldn’t help themselves when he was around them. Brad Williams had this aura around him that just made middle aged dads want to give it up for him. And he certainly took them up on it. Nothing made him fuck harder than gently biting the ear of some repressed middle aged dad while he made him submit to him. Watching the masculine man pinned down underneath him willingly give up control to some kid. Watching them gripping the sheets like some slut, their wedding bands glinting with each thrust.

            Like his dad’s wedding band must have done while his best friend fucked him. Over and over again. His best friend had been fucking his dad behind his back all this time. For how long? At what point in their friendship had Ollie decided banging his dad was more important than their friendship?

            Brad pulled back from the horny Mr. Foster. “You want to get fucked or not, Mr. Foster?”

            “I want to get fucked.” The man mumbled, not meeting him in the eye.

            “Well let’s go then.”

            Mr. Foster gulped and turned around, starting to lead the way. They passed family photos spanning over a lifetime of memories, Jason’s birth, his first summer at football camp, his first bike ride. Brad reached out and stuck his hand into the cleft of Mr. Foster’s pants possessively as they walked by. The man jumped for a second at the intrusion but did not object. Brad liked that. When they arrived at what must have been the master bedroom Mr. Foster paused for a second.

“Am I your first?” Brad asked the conflicted man in front of him, leaning in and breathing on the horny man’s ear.

            “No.” Mr. Foster muttered, hanging his head down. “ And I don’t want to talk about it.”

            “That’s okay, Mr. F.”Brad said, moving his other hand underneath the man’s shirt and starting to play with his pecs. “I just wanted to know if you’d have anyone to compare me to.”

            Mr. Foster gulped again and opened the door, revealing the big, luxurious bed he and his wife would be sleeping in when she returned from her trip with Jason.  The man approached his bedside table and started to remove his ring.

            “Nuh uh.” Brad shook his head, stopping him. “Leave it.”

            Greg Foster hung his head down but did not argue. He stood there as the athlete continued feeling him up, running his hand along his furry pecs.

            “You going to go easy on me, Brad Williams?” Mr. Foster asked as he started to remove his shirt.

            “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” Brad replied, both of them knowing full well he had not answered his question. 

            “Now show it off, Mr. F.” Brad commands him.

            Mr. Foster looks confused for a moment before he turns around and slowly drops his pants, swallowing hard as he puts himself on display for the town football star.

            “No, not that. This.” Brad says, reaching out and grabbing Mr. Foster’s leaking prick.

            Mr. Foster jumps at his touch, but is immediately calmed as he feels the athlete slowly working over his flared cock head.        

            “This is what I like to see.” Brad mused, waving the man’s prick around, admiring it. It was a good 8 inches; bigger and wider than his son’s. “I like to know I’m fucking a man. A real man.”

            Mr. Foster moans as his cock gets worked over by a kid his son’s age. His breathing hurried.

            “You can cum now or later, Mr. Foster, but just know I’m still going to fuck you.” Brad said, looking the man in the eye, increasing his pace.

            Mr. Foster grabs his arm and takes it off his dick. “I want you to fuck me.”

            “You got any lube?”

Mr. Foster pauses, but his eyes dart toward his bedside table.

“Come on, Mr. F. with a cock your size I know you’ve got some lube lying around here somewhere. Or are you not getting any?”

Mr. Foster’s eyes again dart toward his bedside table, but he won’t say it.

“No, please don’t-“ He warns him as Brad reaches over to the drawer.

“Well look what we have here. . .” Brad says as he pulls out a giant dildo. Mr. Foster hangs his head in embarrassment.

Brad looks it over, making the man blush. “Something tells me this isn’t for the missus, is it, Mr. Foster?”

Mr. Foster says nothing, but his cock remains rock hard.

“Wait a minute.” Brad pauses as he reaches his hand back into the drawer. He pulls out a used, stained jockstrap. His own high school emblem is branded on the strap. 

Again, Mr. Foster hangs his head in shame.

“What the fuck is this, Mr. Foster?”

“It’s a jockstrap.” The man mumbles.

“I know what it is. But I want to know what it’s doing in the bedside table of one of the richest men in town right next to a giant dildo.”

The man says nothing.

“Is it Jason’s?”

Mr. Foster turns red. “It has nothing to do with Jason!” He pleads.

The look on this face is panicked, but sincere.

“Then what the fuck is it doing in your bedside table, Mr. Foster? Who do you think about?”

“I think about Brad Williams.” Mr. Foster confesses, his spark finally coming back. He stands a little taller.

“Yeah, Mr. Foster?” Brad smirks, feeling the weight of the dildo in his hand and smelling the jockstrap. “Tell me what you do when you think about me.

 Mr. Foster looked conflicted, like he was being forced to confess one of his deepest, darkest secrets.

Brad continued tormenting the elite man standing before him. “Do you slip that dad ass into these and then sit on this fat thing while you think about me, Mr. Foster? Dreaming about the glory days when you were on the team and you were the town football star?” He reaches out his hand and starts playing with the man’s pec.

“No.” Mr. Foster answers, straightening up and becoming more confident, looking the cocky athlete right in the eyes. The way Brad was working over his nipple was almost making him light-headed, but he continued on. “I slide that thing in and out of my ass while I strap that dirty jock across my face and I blow my load thinking about  Brad fucking Williams taking my ass and making my dad hole his.”

“Get on your fucking knees.” Brad huffed, pushing the man down on the mattress and getting on top of him, sliding his big cock up and down his taint.

“Oh fuck!” Mr. Foster groaned underneath him.

“Tell me how much you want it, Mr. Foster.” Brad whispered in his ear.

“Aw fuck, kid, I want it so fucking bad.” The man begged, turning his face so he could make out with the cocky athlete. The man grabbed the lube and passed it back to him urgently, grabbing the side of the mattress in frustrated anticipation.

Images flashed in Brad’s mind of his dad in this same position. On all fours, nudging lube in his best friend’s hand so he could fuck him. He hated it.

“Get me ready.” Brad commanded the man underneath him, tapping his cock at his hole.

Mr. Foster got up and stared right into the athlete’s eyes as he squeezed the lube into his palm and slicked up the dick tapping at his hole. He leaned in to kiss him again, but Brad pulled away, forcing him down again.

In one motion, Brad thrust in to the hilt.

“God damn! Ugh!” Mr. Foster groaned in what sounded like mostly pleasure. Brad hadn’t intended on sinking his entire shaft but Mr. Foster had let him in with absolutely zero resistance. The man took him like a fucking champ, groaning underneath him in sheer pleasure. 

Brad leaned down and whispered in his hear. “So if I’m not the one to break you in, tell me who you gave it up for, Mr. Foster.”

“Just fuck me, Brad Williams. . .” Mr. Foster groaned, trying to tune him out.

“Tell me.” Brad repeated, more firm, running his hands along the man’s pecs, feeling him up as he claimed his ass.

“My- business part-ner. . . Just after- college-” Mr. Foster grunted in time with Brad’s powerful thrusts.

“What a fucking cliché.” Brad smirked, running his hands over his conquest’s hairy torso. “Tell me, Mr. F.” He continued, slamming into him. “You didn’t let him in just once, did you.” He observed more than asked.

Mr. Foster said nothing, as he started furiously jacking off his cock underneath him.

“I knew you were an easy lay. I’m sure he could have it anytime he wanted it, didn’t he, Mr. F?”

“Fuck yeah, he did.” He grunted.

“So what ever happened to this guy? Did he knock up a pretty blond chick like you did and try and convince himself it would never happen again? When was that last time you gave it up for him, Mr. Foster?”

“Last night.”

That did it. Brad shoved the man’s face into the mattress and went for his nut. He could feel it boiling up and he let loose, absolutely drenching the tight, sore, worn out dad hole pulsing around it.

He continued to launch his seed up the elite upper class man underneath him until it was too much. He pulled out and panted, wiping his brow. Mr. Foster rolled over to catch his breath. Apparently he had shot a mammoth load of his own into the sheets as well. He then leaned his head up to kiss him but Brad turned away.

“That’s not what this was.” Brad said, getting up off of the bed and throwing on his clothes.

Mr. Foster hung his head in shame at Brad’s blunt denial of any post-coital intimacy.

Brad sighed and stepped out of his briefs again and tossed them onto the bed, right on top of the dirty jockstrap. “Thanks. . .” Mr. Foster said, gratefully, grabbing them and feeling them with his hands. Brad gave him an appreciative nod and left. He had something to do.

Brad Williams gave a long, drawn-out sigh as he brought his hand to the door of his home and turned it, walking in.

            Mr. Williams and I were sitting closely on the stairs but immediately broke apart from each other, stunned at his arrival.

            “Brad, I-“ Mr. Williams began.

            “I’m going to ask you two one question.” Brad said, looking his father and best friend in the eyes. “And I swear to God if you two bullshit me for one second we are done. You got it? Done.” He said, sternly. I could tell he was serious.

            “Alright.” Mr. Williams gulped. I couldn’t even answer him. I couldn’t imagine what I could say to make this all okay.

            Brad stared at us for a second before he took a deep breath. “Are you two in love?”

            Mr. Williams and I both said nothing. I honestly didn’t know what Brad wanted to hear. What could possibly make up for the betrayal we had both inflicted on him?

            I looked at Mr. Williams and he looked at me.

            “Yes, son.” He said, quietly. “We’re in love.”

            Brad took another deep breath, and I couldn’t tell if he was about to punch his fist through a wall or what. I couldn’t look at him.

            “Ollie?” He said to me, turning his gaze to me.

            “Yes, Brad?” I reply delicately.

            “Is this true? Are you in love with my dad?” He asked me.

            “Yeah, man.” I said, quietly. “I love him.”

            Brad sighed and began to walk toward us. Mr. Williams and I look at one another, not knowing what to expect.

            “It’s going to take some time.” Brad sighed under his breath. “But, I believe you two. I think I get it.”

            He walked upstairs and we heard his bedroom door shut.


                                    Chapter 16

            For the rest of the weekend Mr. Williams and I were walking on egg shells trying not to rock the boat. I wanted to make sure Brad was okay but I knew he needed to be alone right now. The few times I saw him out of his room were a little awkward to say the least, but it didn’t seem like my best friend and host-brother actively hated me. Even though he probably should. I had always known that this day would come but I just wasn’t sure how or to what effect. I had imagined countless different outcomes when Brad finally did find out about his father and myself. I guess on a scale of Brad gleefully embracing the two of us with tears of joy in his eyes while walking us to my bedroom and giving us a quick pat on the ass to send us on our way to do our bidding, and him packing his bags never to return again, we were pretty lucky. It was going to take some getting used to, but we would be okay.

            In fact, I’d been so focused on being mindful of Brad’s feelings that when we were suiting up at practice on Monday seeing Coach Jackson standing at the lockers made me jump. Oh yeah. I had tag teamed Coach Jackson’s ass over the weekend. That’s right.

            “In my office, Africa.” Coach Jackson commanded, making all of the other guys stop their conversations and gulp. This wasn’t going to be good.

            Brad looked over at me and shrugged. It was the first amount of eye contact he had given me all day.

            I slowly made my way to Coach Jackson’s office and inhaled slowly before I opened the door and stepped inside.

            Coach Jackson sat at his desk and looked me over. I couldn’t imagine what he was going to say.

            “Coach, about what happened in here over the weekend, I-“ I started to say before Coach Jackson slammed his fist on his desk.

            “What the fuck do you think I brought you in here for, Africa?” He said furiously, crossing his arms. “What makes you think you have the right to ever talk about what happened in this office?”

            “I’m sorry, Coach,I-“

            “I’ll do the talking. This has absolutely nothing to do with your little birthday present Williams convinced me of giving you on Saturday.”

            I listened to him, fidgeting nervously.

            “I’m not going to say this ever again because I don’t do this sappy shit, okay? It’s just not me.” Coach Jackson mumbled. “But if you ever hurt that kid in there. . . Ever. . . I will make your life a living hell. You got that?”

            His words hit me like a giant fist to the face. I was speechless.

            “That kid in there would die for you, you know that?” Coach Jackson continued, getting red in the face. “And you turned around and showed him the biggest disrespect one man can do to another man. You’re fucking his dad.”

             Coach Jackson looked at me, his eyes bearing into my entire soul.

            “Now I don’t know why he’s chosen to forgive the two of you. I really don’t. If it were me the two of you would be out of my life forever.” He continued, breathing heavily. “But that’s because he’s just a better man than I am. Than the both of us. If he can forgive what you and his old man were doing behind his back than that’s his business.” He leaned in to where I could feel the raw masculine energy radiating off of him. I was terrified. “I’m not going to tell you to stop doing what you’re doing. I know what it’s like being 18 and having a huge cock and access to a willing hole who will put out whenever I want it. Hell, the two of you might even think you’re in love. I realize the two of you need to figure out whatever the fuck it is you two are doing. But if Brad Williams ends up getting hurt in the end you two are going to have to answer to me.”

            He leaned back in his chair, staring me down. “Have I made myself clear?”

            “Coach, I-“ I began.

            “All I want is a yes or no answer, Olujimi. Do you understand?”

            “Yes sir.” I answered, meeting him in the eye.

            “That’s all.” Coach Jackson grunted, waving me away.

            When I walked out of the office all of the guys were staring at me, trying to gauge the look on my face.

            Brad turned away and finished putting on his pads. I’m sure he had no idea what had just happened and I’m sure he never will.         

Over the next few weeks things started getting back to normal. Brad seemed to be slowly becoming his normal self again. Things were still a little awkward between the three of us but it was becoming better and better each day.

            When the two of us got home from practice one day Mr. Williams was sitting in the living room and jumped up excitedly when we walked through the front door.

            He was pacing back and forth but there was a definite spring in his step.

            “Someone’s happy. . .” Brad observed, setting his stuff down on the table, and looking at his father inquisitively.

            “I just got off the phone with Talc Electronics.” Mr. Williams said slowly.

            “Yeah?” I replied.

            “They just offered to buy my new software. Apparently there was a bidding war with another company and they offered to triple my asking price.” He said, starting, to shake.

            “No way. . .” Brad said, his jaw dropping.

            “I’ve been working on this for the past 10 years.” Mr. Williams continued, having to sit down. “All that hard work. All those late nights. It’s finally here.” He was clearly still in shock.

            “Mr. Williams, that’s amazing!” I exclaimed, not being able to contain myself anymore.

            “Dad, that’s awesome! Seriously!” Brad said, giving his dad a hug. “I’m really happy for you.”

            Mr. Williams beamed with pride, looking at me for a second and then stopping himself.

            “It’s okay if you two want to hug each other. . .” Brad mumbled. “I mean it’s a pretty big deal.”

            “You sure, son?” Mr. Williams asked, delicately.

            “Yeah, go on.” Brad replied, gesturing to me. “Seriously, go on.”

            I slowly got up and embraced Mr. Williams warmly. I was overwhelmed by how much I had missed his touch. The two of us hadn’t been intimate with each other for weeks. His suddenly familiar smell hit me immediately. Judging by his quiet inhale I could tell he was experiencing the same feeling.

            “Oh come on, I thought you two were in love.” Brad said as we broke apart, looking at him.

            “Son, we don’t want to-“ Mr. Williams began.

            “I’m a big boy. I can handle it.” Brad replied.

            “Are you sure, son?”

            “Yeah, I’m sure. What would you have done if I wasn’t here?”

            “Well. . .” Mr. Williams started.

            “Oh come on, it’s 4 o’clock in the afternoon!” Brad exclaimed, shaking his head. “You two would be at it at 4 o’clock in the afternoon?”

            “Well. . . Yeah.” Mr. Williams said, shifting in his stance.

            “Well I may be coming around.” Brad said, walking over to the stairs. “But I’m not that far along yet. Keep it PG when I’m in the room, you two.”         

The following week Brad and I were playing video games in my room again. It was nice having things back to normal again. The way we were kidding around with each other, it was like nothing had happened. Things were good. My first Christmas in the states was really exciting. I’d heard so much about it but I didn’t understand just how nice it would be to be surrounded by people who cared about me and just be a family. It was really nice. Brad had bought me the new Call of Duty game and we were fooling around with it now. I couldn’t help but feel it was more of a gift for himself to enjoy as well, but I had to admit I was growing to enjoy it.

            After a particularly nasty kill where I head scoped Brad’s character from across the map we both shouted out, him in frustration and I with excitement.

            “So I successfully taught you how to kick ass at Call of Duty.” Brad laughed. “I guess your time here in the states hasn’t been a complete waste.”

            “I feel like a true American now.” I laughed.

            “Hey, man. I wanted to talk to you about something serious.” He said, setting down the controller.

            Wow, Brad Williams wanting to talk about something serious? This was new.

            “What’s up?”

            “So, you and my dad. . .You two really love each other?”

            “Yeah, man. We really do.” I answered him honestly.

            He paused for a while. I continued on. “Look, I know it’s not easy for you.”

            “It’s not that, Ollie.” He said, trying to find the right words to say. “It’s- It’s just. . . How do you know?”

            “Do you really want to hear about this, man?” I asked him, trying to gauge where his head was at. “Wait. . . Don’t tell me. . .” I turned off the tv and looked at him seriously. “Do you think you’re falling for Coach?”

            “No!” Brad dismissed me, waving me off. “I mean, come on, Ollie.”

            “Well then what’s this about?”

            “I don’t know. . . I just. I want what you have. What you and my dad have, I guess.”

            “Uh huh. . . And do you think you could possibly have this with Coach?”

            “I don’t know.” He shrugged, deep in thought. “I mean, it sounds crazy.”

            “So what if it sounds crazy? Does he make you feel good?” I asked simply.

            “Well yeah, he makes me feel good.” He laughed.

            “Brad.” I rolled my eyes. “Does he make you feel good inside?” I wasn’t going to let him get evasive.

            “I don’t know. . .” He sighed, confused. “I think maybe one day he could?”

            “Well then what’s the harm in trying things out?”

            “I guess you’re right.” He admitted pensively. “There’s just one thing, though.”

            “Yeah?”

            “I guess I have to tell my dad. Right?” He asked kind of nervously.

            “Uh, Brad. I think your dad’s pretty cool with the gay thing., considering . .”

            We both burst out laughing.

            “I guess you’re right.” He sighed. “And hey, it’s not like my mom is around enough to pay attention to what’s going on.”

            I sensed a bit of frustration in his voice. If Kate had been just a “busy” mom before, she was now almost completely absent. Sure, she was around when she was around, but it seemed like she spent more days out of town on business than she did here. Brad was always seemed okay with it but I knew deep down it kind of got to him. She’d even be missing New Year’s Eve next week. I really felt sorry for him.

            “So does this mean you’re going to tell your dad you’re in to dudes?” I asked him delicately.

            “I guess so.” He admitted. “You know, 2 years ago I was getting laid every weekend with a different cheerleader on the team. And look at me now.”

            “I see a much more sensitive, complex, compassionate person than the guy I met at the Sacramento airport back in the summer. I am looking at you now, right now, and I don’t know why you’d ever want to look back.”

            He looked at me appreciatively and blushed. “Thanks man.”

            “Don’t mention it, brother.” I smiled. “Now what do you say I teach YOU how to head scope in Call of Duty, huh?”

            “You’re on.” He laughed, as I turned the tv back on and we got back to our game.

            I was wrong. Things weren’t back to normal. And they shouldn’t be. All three men in this house were complex individuals who were still trying to figure out what exactly it is in life that we wanted to go after. You’ve got Brad, the cocksure quarterback who had everything he thought he wanted until he realized how much more there is to life besides beer kegs and boobs. You have Mr. Williams, a seemingly set in his ways quiet husband in his 40’s who’s had a reawakening in life that’s given him a reason to explore and broaden his horizons. And then you have me, the African exchange student who walked into the lives of all of these different people and turned everything on its head. I just hoped it was all for the better.

            I knew dinner that night was going to be interesting. Mr. Williams had grilled hamburgers for the three of us. Kate was, of course, at the office.

            Once we were all seated around the table, I began to dress my hamburger. Brad looked at me for a second and I nodded.

            “Dad, there’s something I feel like you should know.” Brad said simply, as he sprinkled a bunch of Doritos onto his bun.

            Leave it to Brad Williams to be this confident even in a time like this.

            “Yeah, son?” Mr. Williams asked curiously.

            “Now I know what you’re going to say.” Brad began. “But this has been going on for a long time now and it really has nothing to do with you.”

            “Okay. . .” Mr. Williams said, apprehensively.

            “I’m kind of into dudes.” Brad stated, biting into his hamburger with a loud crunch.

            Mr. Williams dropped his fork.

            “Is this a joke?”

            I couldn’t help but smile a bit. “It’s not a joke, Mr. Williams.”

            I thought Brad was going to say something but instead he just took another bite of his hamburger and shrugged.

            “You’re being serious?” Mr. Williams asked, cautiously.

            “Big time.” Brad replied, chewing. “Is that a problem?”

            “Uhh, NO! That’s not a problem, son.” Mr. Williams laughed. “I just can’t believe it.”

            “I guess something’s in the air.” I laughed.

            “I’ll say.” Mr. Williams laughed.

            “You seem to be smiling a lot for a dad who just found out his son was into guys.” Brad retorted.

            “Yeah, I guess I am.” Mr. Williams laughed. “I just. . . I don’t know, son. I’m just even more proud of you than I already was, I guess.”

            This actually made Brad put down his hamburger. “Really, Dad?”

            “What do you mean “really”? Of course really! You’re an amazing person, son.” Mr. Williams beamed.

            “I really appreciate that, Dad. Thanks.” Brad blushed. “Just. . . Don’t tell mom yet. Okay? I’m not really ready for that just yet.”

            “I get it, son.” Mr. Williams replied.

            “There’s one more thing, Dad.” Brad added, cautiously.

            “Yeah, son?”

            “I’m kind of seeing someone.”

            “That’s fantastic! Who’s the lucky guy?”

            I braced myself.

            “My football coach. . .” Brad mumbled.

            The smile on Mr. Williams’s face fell. At first I thought he was going to ask him if he heard him right but he just turned white instead.

            “Dad, say something.” Brad pressed.

            “I’m going to kill him.” Mr. Williams muttered, standing up.

            “What? Dad, come on, sit down.” Brad sighed.

            “That son of a bitch.” Mr. Williams grunted, clenching his fists.

            “Dad, stop! What are you doing?” Brad yelled.

            “Mike, sit down.” I interjected.

            “It’s completely out of line. I can’t believe this.” He said, pacing around, angrily.

            “Mike, it’s no different than you and me.” I stated plainly.

            He paused and looked at me furiously.

            “It- It is not- It’s completely-!” He stammered.

            “It is.” I stood up, facing him and trying to comfort him.

            Mr. Williams looked at me and exhaled, finally. He slowly sank down back into his chair.

            “You gonna be okay, Dad?” Brad asked.

            “Maybe later. Not now.” Mr. Williams waved him off.

            “I get it. I’ll back off for a while.” Brad sighed, standing up to take his plate to the sink.

            “Hold  on a minute, son.”

            “Yeah, Dad?”

            “Ask Dan what he’s doing for New Year’s Eve.”

            “Shit.” Brad winced. “Why, exactly?”

            “You’ll understand when you’re older, son. I want to meet this guy. Under my roof.”

            “Dad, you know Coach Jackson already.”

            “It’s not the same thing, son.” Mr. Williams retorted, putting his foot down.

            “Alright, Dad.” Brad relented. “Another Williams New Year’s Eve for the record books.”

            Mr. Williams crossed his arms sternly and stared down at his plate deep in thought. I knew it wasn’t the time or the place but seeing Mr. Williams heated and territorial like this was really turning me on.

            “I’m going to go do some homework and let you cool off.” Brad said cautiously as he made his way up stairs. Ollie, I’ll be in my room later if you want to help.”

            I gave him a wave as I sat back and studied the conflicted man beside me. Yeah, I definitely liked this side to Mr. Williams. A lot.

            He noticed me staring and shrugged. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

            “It’s nothing.”

            He went back to staring down at his plate deep in thought and caught me looking him over again.

            “Alright, what is it?” He asked defensively.

            “You’re going to kill me. It couldn’t possibly be happening at a less inappropriate time.” I laughed. 

            “So you want it, too?” He muttered, with a slight grin.

            I had to admit I was taken aback by this. “Are you asking if it’s taking everything in me to not rip open your shirt right now and fuck you right here on this table? Yeah, I’d say I’m showing some major restraint here.”

            “Meet me in the shower in 10 minutes.” He muttered, standing up and taking our plates to the sink. “I’ve got a lot of aggression to get out so I want it rough.” He added, meeting my gaze. “You think you can do that for me?”

            “Yes sir.” I grinned. “I think I can manage that just fine.”          

The next Monday of Winter break was an unusually cold one for Sacramento. After a quick pick-up game with some of the guys on the team Brad Williams pulled up to Dan Jackson’s house not too far from the school and casually knocked on the door.

            After a few seconds the head of athletics department Dan Jackson answered it, again catching his athlete off guard with his more formal attire than what he usually wore on the weekdays to school.

            “Loving the white collar look, Coach.” Brad smirked as he walked through the door before he was invited in.

            “And just what the fuck do you think you’re doing here, Williams?” Coach Jackson grunted, crossing his arms as he closed the door behind him.

            “Oh you know, I was in the area and wanted to get laid.” Brad answered casually.

            “Oh, is that right, Williams? You thought you’d just knock on my door and I’d put out for you right then and there, did you?” Coach Jackson smirked.

            “Tell me I’m wrong.” Brad replied.

            Coach Jackson stared at his cocky athlete and said nothing for a moment. “You know, I’ve got a good sized couch I need moved from the garage. If you want me to put out for you I’m going to make you work for it. What do you say you help me move it into my living room and then I’ll throw you a bone and give you some ass.”

            “Works for me, Coach.” Brad shrugged.

            “You’re lucky I’m feeling charitable today, kid. I would have loved to have sent you on your way with blue balls.”

            “Mmhmm. I guess there’s a first time for everything.” Brad rolled his eyes, skeptically.  “But it does seem a bit of a coincidence you all of the sudden need a couch moved when I show up and you haven’t gotten laid for a couple of days, huh Coach? What’s it gonna be next time I show up and you want dick? A quick lightbulb change?”

            “Look, you cocky fucker. Do we have a deal or not?”

            “Where’s this couch?”

            About 3 minutes later Brad Williams was easily setting an old, grey couch down in the middle of Coach Jackson’s living room. “Good thing I got here to help you move this thing. . .” Brad mocked him, easily lifting one side of the couch with his index finger and setting it down gently.

            “Whatever, Williams.” Coach Jackson smirked, starting to unbutton his dress shirt. “I’m a man of my word.” He rolled up his shirt and threw it down on the carpet, his muscles bulging menacingly. “Make it quick. It’s not going to be a two-fer this time, Williams, so make your nut count. I’ve got shit to do this afternoon.”

            “Whatever, Coach.”

            Four hours later Brad and Coach Jackson were laying on top of the couch, side by side staring up at the ceiling. Brad casually played with the giant man’s nipple as they laid together, breathing against one another gently. “Hey, you didn’t really need me to go earlier, did you? I can leave if you need me to.”

            “I guess I’ll have to move stuff around.” Coach Jackson replied, half-heartedly. “But you’re good, kid.”

            “This is nice, Coach.” Brad sighed, content.

            “Feeling sentimental, Williams?” Coach Jackson chuckled, not used to this side of his cocky athlete.

            “Yeah, I guess I am.” Brad replied.

            “Man, you put out for Brad Williams one time and all the sudden he goes soft on you. . .” Coach Jackson laughed.

            “One time?” Brad laughed, squeezing a meaty ass cheek off of Coach Jackson playfully.

            “Okay, a couple of times.”

            “Listen, Coach.” Brad began, deciding to not beat around the bush. “I told my dad about us.”

            “You WHAT?” Coach Jackson bellowed, sitting up.

            “Coach, just listen-“

            “What the FUCK were you thinking, Williams? I could lose my fucking job!”

            “Coach, I promise nothing like that is going to happen, just calm down a sec.”

            “You crossed a line, Williams. Fuck, what were you thinking?”

            “Coach, trust me. You’re safe with my dad. I mean you saw why you can trust him.”

            “You don’t get it, Williams. You don’t know what it’s like finding out some guy your age is having sex with your son.”

            “And neither do you. Just listen to me. My dad knows. And he’s cool with it.”

            “What do you mean he’s cool with it?”

            “Okay, maybe he’s not exactly cool with it. But he wants to get there. He wants you to come over for New Year’s Eve.”

            “He what?” Coach Jackson asked, completely thrown for a loop.

            “My dad’s a good guy, Coach. He just wants to get to know you.”

            “I don’t know about this, Williams. It doesn’t sound a bit. . . I don’t know. . . couple-y to you?”

            “So what if it does?” Brad asked simply.

            “I’m not your boyfriend, Williams.”

            “I didn’t say you were. I promise, it’s nothing serious. My dad just wants you there. Okay?”

            “I don’t know about this, Williams.”

            “Just think about it, okay?” Brad pressed, leaning over to start grabbing his clothes.

            “Alright, I’ll think about it.”

            “In the meantime, what do you say I swing by tomorrow and help you put in that new light bulb?” Brad laughed, with a knowing stare.

            “I’m not making my mind up yet, okay? But if you wanted to come over tomorrow again I wouldn’t turn you away. How about in the morning. Say 10:00?”

            “On my break? Your ass is good, but you’re not getting me out of bed before noon.”

“You give this guy an inch and he takes a mile. . .” Coach Jackson mumbled. “You’re lucky you’re a good lay, Williams. Better make it 3:00 then. Don’t be late.”

“Works for me.” Brad replied, getting dressed. “Oh, and Coach?”

            “What now, Williams?”

            “I like the professional look.” Brad said, tossing him his dress shirt and slacks. “But tomorrow I want you in your uniform. Whistle and all.”

            “Don’t push your luck, kid. . .” Coach Jackson replied, noncommittally. “I’m not going to coordinate my fucking outfit based just on what makes you want to fuck me more, Williams.”

            Brad shrugged him off as he headed for the door.

            “Williams?”

            “Yeah, Coach?”

            “You want me in my USC sweats or my khaki’s?”

            “Surprise me. It’s all going to end up thrown on the floor the second you invite me in anyway.”

            “See you at 3 o’clock then, Williams.”

                                                Chapter 17

            So Brad wasn’t joking when he suggested this would be a New Year’s Eve for the record books. Since Kate was going to be out of town on business Coach Jackson eventually accepted the invitation to join us for New Year’s Eve and even offered up his cabin for the four of us to enjoy a ‘guys weekend’. Something told me it was more of Brad’s idea, but it was a nice gesture. It may have seemed a bit dysfunctional at first but I think it would be really good for Brad and his dad to not be so uneasy around each other when it came to Coach Jackson and myself. Sure, at first my imagination had run wild thinking of these crazy intense group fuck sessions we could enjoy, but I knew there was no way that was going to happen. And I perfectly understood. It was looking to be a great weekend, but not THAT great.

            By the time the morning of our trip came around I was helping Mr. Williams pack the car, helping him with one of the ice chests. “Having any second thoughts about this big ‘tough dad who wants to meet the boyfriend’ idea of yours, Mr. Williams?” I grinned, as we set it down in the back of the trunk.

            “None whatsoever, Ollie.” Mr. Williams answered me, wiping his brow. “You’ll know if you ever have kids someday. It’s just something dads have to do.”

            I couldn’t help but love how paternal Mr. Williams got sometimes. It made him so sexy to me. And he was right. I had no idea what it was like being a father. He wanted to know his son was being treated right. I couldn’t blame him.

            “I just can’t wait to see Mike Williams, computer nerd extraordinaire, make a guy like Dan Jackson shake in his boots.” I smiled.

            “Oh come on, Ollie, it’s not like that.” He laughed. “And besides, you don’t think I could take Dan Jackson?” He flexed a little for comedic effect.

            “Nope.” I laughed, rubbing his shoulders. “Besides, you’re a lover, not a fighter.”

            “That’s kind of sweet, I guess.” He smiled, leaning in for a quick kiss. “And I figure I’ll get the chance to demonstrate that often these next couple of days in the woods, won’t I?” He massaged my shoulders lovingly.

            “I’d say you’re getting laid big time this weekend.” I smiled.

            “Hmmm.” He smirked. “I guess I should put my foot down more often, huh?”

            “Let’s see how this trip goes first, shall we?”

            “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

            Brad opened the door to the garage with his pillow under his arm and his headphones hanging around his neck.

            “Alright, fellas, are we ready for the weirdest New Year’s Eve trip ever?” He laughed, putting his things in the front seat.

            “Maybe you should have thought of that before you started fucking your football coach, son.” Mr. Williams winked.

            “You’re right, I should have modeled myself off of the great example you guys set for me.” Brad countered.

            “He has a point.” I said, looking at Mr. Williams.

            “Yeah yeah. You know what the saying is. Do as I say, not as I do.” Mr. Williams replied, shutting the trunk window and walking over to the driver’s seat. “You know, it’s good we can laugh at this.”

            “I guess that’s true.” Brad said. “Seriously, though, Dad. Thanks for being cool about this.”

            “You just wait until I give Dan the good ‘ol ‘what are your intentions with my son’ speech, son.”

            “Yeah yeah.” Brad muttered, rolling his eyes.

            When we pulled up to Coach Jackson’s place to start heading out on the road he was already waiting on the curb with a giant dufflebag hanging around his shoulder.

            “Damn, Coach. You getting evicted or something?” Brad laughed, rolling the window down.

            Coach Jackson rolled his eyes. “The car’s not even in my driveway yet and you’re already giving me attitude, Williams. This has got to be some kind of record. I’m not putting up with this shit all weekend.”

            “Only teasing, princess.” Brad smirked. “Throw it in back and let’s get going.”

            Coach Jackson threw his bag on top of ours and got into the back seat next to me.

            “I guess the in-laws get the back seat, huh, Olujimi?” He muttered, giving me a playful punch to the shoulder. “Mike.” He nodded to Mr. Williams with a polite smile.

            “It’s Mr. Williams to you, Dan.” Mr. Williams responded in a cold tone.

            Coach Jackson’s eyes widened, “So sorry, of course-“

            “I’m only kidding, Dan.” Mr. Williams grinned, starting to back the car out of the driveway. “Relax!”

            “Nicely done, Dad.” Brad grinned at his father.

            Coach Jackson exhaled, relieved. “Fuck, my ass is clenched so hard right now. . .” He whispered so only I could hear him.

            “Just relax, Coach.” I assured him. “Let him have his fun for a bit.”

            “Easy for you to say. . .” He mumbled, crossing his arms.

            The drive to the cabin was pretty uneventful. Coach Jackson and Mr. Williams had known each other for a while before this all happened and it was weird seeing them fall back into an old friends kind of routine rather than the whole ‘so you’re the guy who’s sleeping with my son’ thing.

            We got to the cabin a little after noon so there was plenty of light for us to get in our surroundings as Coach Jackson gave us a tour.

            “This here’s the master bedroom. The two of us will be in there.” He nodded to the door at the end of the hall.

            Mr. Williams interjected. “You expect me to allow you and my son to share a room all weekend?”

            “Oh, uhh well we could do something e-“ Coach Jackson stammered, turning red.

            “Dan! Relax! I’m just teasing.” Mr. Williams laughed.

            “Shit. . .” Coach Jackson exhaled again, relieved.

            “Alright Dad, you get one more and that’s it.” Brad laughed, rolling his eyes.

            “Keep them coming. This is fun.” I whispered to Mr. Williams.

            “Like I said. It’s good we can laugh about this.” He replied.

            “Seriously, though.” Brad said, clearing his throat. “Just as a general rule for this weekend. Please knock before you open any closed doors in this place, okay? That goes for everyone.”

            “Sounds like a good rule.” I agreed.

            “Any particular time in the day I should be extra careful about, son?” Mr. Williams asked his son, crossing his arms.

            “Well. . . As I said. Just as a general rule.” Brad replied.

            I looked over at Coach Jackson who was scarlet at this point.         

            Brad continued. “If it’s anything like usual you can expect the need to be ‘extra careful’ in the mornings and whenever you hear a shower running. And of course right before bed. And I’m telling you right now when we’re ‘napping’ during the afternoons you should just steer clear.”

            “Jesus, Williams, could you keep your mouth shut?” Coach Jackson winced, completely humiliated.

            “Relax, Coach.” Brad replied. “Knowing these two we’re going to have to be just as careful with them.”

            This time it was Mr. William’s turn to blush.           

            Brad looked at his dad skeptically. “Am I wrong, Dad?”

            “Point taken. Just remember to knock, guys.” Mr. Williams replied.

            “Well, I see no reason to beat around the bush.” Brad said casually, starting to take off his shirt. “I’ll be in the shower, Coach.” He flung it at the burly athletics director next to him and started heading to the bathroom.

            Coach Jackson froze like a deer in headlights.

            “You coming, Coach?” Brad called over his shoulder.

            “Go on, Coach. Mr. Williams and I need to unpack. We’ll be fine.” I assured him, rubbing Mr. William’s back.

            “Mike. . .?” Coach Jackson asked delicately, looking at Mr. Williams.

            “Go on, Dan.” He nodded. “It’s okay.”

            Brad called out from the bathroom, the sound of the shower coming on. “You coming or not, Coach?”

            “Quit your whining, Williams or you’re showering alone!” Coach Jackson yelled before he could stop himself. He turned back to Mr. Williams, slightly embarrassed. “Sorry, Mike. . .Sometimes the kid brings it out of me.”

            “Don’t I know it.” Mr. Williams laughed. “I’m glad you don’t take his bullshit, Dan.”

            “Yeah, well it ain’t easy.” Coach Jackson replied. “See you fellas later.”

            “Sounds good.” Mr. Williams smiled. “Oh, and Dan?”

            “Yeah Mike?”

            “Be sure and not use all the hot water, huh Dave?” Mr. Williams grinned.

            “You got it, bud.” Coach Jackson smirked, walking over to the bathroom.

            Three minutes later the head of athletics department Coach Dan Jackson was bracing himself against the shower wall as he happily let his star quarterback have his ass.

            “Fuck, Williams!” He muttered through gritted teeth as his athlete really started hammering into him. “Do you want them to hear us?”

            “What does it matter?” Brad replied casually, continuing his loud, hard strokes into his superior. “I’m pretty sure they had an idea of what were going to do in here.”

            “Yeah, but do they have to listen to it going on?”

            “Look Coach, I’m getting my nut one way or another, so are you going to relax and get yours in too or are you going to keep bitching?”

            “You cocky fucker. . .” Coach Jackson muttered. But damn if he didn’t give a reluctant sigh as his big hand went for his own leaking prick. “Alright, Williams. Just shut up and fuck me.”

            “I’ll shut up if you shut up.” Brad replied defensively.

            “Fucking 18 year-olds. . .” Coach Jackson mumbled under his breath.”

            Over in the other room Mr. Williams and I were unpacking our suitcases and hanging up our clothes. We were disappointed to find that our room was equipped with two twin beds as opposed to a full king like the master bedroom.

            “How would you feel about pulling the scary dad card out one last time and tell Coach to switch rooms with us?” I laughed, laying down on the bed on the left.

            “We’ll be fine, Ollie.” Mr. Williams smiled, walking over to my side. “Besides. . .” he said, leaning down to kiss me. “I kind of want to snuggle.”

            “I’m not so sure, Mr. Williams.” I replied, accepting his kiss playfully. “I’m 6’1 and you’re at least a few inches taller. That’s a little tight, even for the two of us.”

            “I think we’ll find a way to enjoy our situa-“ He started before he turned his head to the door, listening.

            “Holy shit!” I gasped, pressing my hand over my mouth, straining to hear.

            The unmistakable sound of skin smacking against skin was easily audible, emanating from the direction of the bathroom.

            “Fuck yeah!” We heard Coach Jackson yell.

            “I can’t believe this.” Mr. Williams laughed, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t be listening to this.”

            “How can we help it? I mean it sounds like they’re practically putting up a new wall in there.” I replied.

            We listened as the slapping sound grew more and more urgent until two low voices started grunting in unison.

            “Finally. . .” Mr. Williams sighed.

            “Is this weird for you, Mr. Williams?” I asked him sincerely.

            “Yeah, a little. But it’s just something I’ll need to get over. If Brad was able to get over the idea of you and me together I can certainly try and extend him the same courtesy.”

            “Yeah, but we’re not going to make the two of them listen to us in the shower like that.”

            “We aren’t?” He winked.

            At that moment we could faintly hear Coach Jackson’s voice again. “Jesus, Williams, no more.”

            We could hear Brad say something in response but it was inaudible.

            “No, Williams. I promised your dad we’d save some of the hot water.”

            Mr. Williams blushed next to me.

            “Come on, no more, Williams.” Coach Jackson said again, this time a little less convincingly.

            Again, Brad said something in response but we couldn’t make it out.

            “Aw fuck, alright. But make it fast.” We heard Coach Jackson again, ending his response with a satisfied moan.

            Mr. Williams hung his head down, rolling his eyes. “Well I guess shower time will have to wait til after dinner.”

            “Sounds like it.”

            “In the meantime, what do you say you and I have our own fun?” He said, kissing me.

            “You serious?”

            “Why not? They sound pretty busy right now, so it’s not like they’ll know.” He grinned. “Come on, it’ll be our first time having sex on vacation.”

            He slipped his tongue into my mouth again as he started to unbutton his shirt, grabbing my hands and setting them on his ass.

            “Yeah?” He cooed into my ear.

            “Mmmhmm.” I relented, starting to take charge and rolling him onto the tiny mattress with me.

            “Fuck, Williams.” Coach Jackson sighed, turning the shower off and wiping his brow, exhausted but satisfied.

            “You missed a spot, Coach.” His athlete said behind him, pointing to the shower drain.

            There was a swirl of thick cum that was stuck on the drain that hadn’t quite made its way down yet.

            “Shit, that could have been bad.” Coach Jackson muttered, turning on the water again and aiming it at the drain. “Nice job there, Williams.”

            “No problem, Coach.”

            “I was being sarcastic, you idiot.” Coach Jackson retorted. “You just had to go for another nut. . .”

            “Hey, don’t blame me, Coach. That’s your load, not mine.” Brad gloated, squeezing Coach Jackson’s giant muscular ass cheek.

            “Whatever. At least you’ve had your fill for now. Hopefully that ought to last you and I won’t have to worry about being mounted again before bed tonight.”

            “We’ll see.” His cocky athlete smirked, handing him the towel. “You got off. Twice. Let’s stop acting like you didn’t want it just as I did.”

            “Whatever, Williams.” Coach Jackson rolled his eyes.

            Coach Jackson nervously placed his hand on the door knob and gently turned it, quietly stepping out into the hall, towel wrapped around his waist.

            He tiptoed into the hallway quietly before there was a loud spank on his ass as Brad unabashedly bulldozed his way past him. “Thanks for another great fuck, Coach.” Brad said casually as he walked by, not bothering to lower his voice.

            “Oh fuck off, Will-“ Coach Jackson started before he paused.

            “What is it, Coach?” Brad stopped.

            “Shhh!” Coach waved his hand at him, straining to hear.

            Loud groans were emanating from the guest room, the old mattress springs squeaking urgently.

            “Oh shit.” Brad muttered, turning away from the doorway.

            “Uh huh. . .” Coach Jackson grinned, listening intently.

            “Get away from there, Coach. What’s the matter with you?” Brad scoffed, pulling his arm to get him moving again.

            “This is so fucking hot.” Coach Jackson smiled, trying to listen to more.

            “It’s really not.” Brad retorted, rolling his eyes. “It’s pretty terrible, actually.”

            “Aw, com on you’re no fun, Williams.”

            “Leave them alone, Coach.” Brad said seriously.

            Coach Jackson sulked a little but he complied, making his way to the master bedroom.

            Brad sat on the bed, rifling through his suitcase. Coach Jackson just looked at him.

            “What?” The athlete shrugged, annoyed.

            “It’s just. . .” Coach Jackson began, trailing off.

            “Just what?”

            “Listening to those two. . .” His giant arm reached into his towel as he started playing with his cock again. “It’s kind of putting me in the mood again.”

            “You serious?” Brad scoffed, not believing this.

            “Big time.” Coach Jackson admitted, pawing at his thick cock under his towel. “You wanna?” He muttered, eyeing his athlete down.

            “Right now?” Brad scoffed again. “Weren’t you just bitching a few minutes ago and saying your ass was off the table until bed?”

            “Changed my mind.” Coach Jackson grinned, dropping his towel. He started making his way over to his athlete. “Come on, Williams. I’ll be damned if those two nerds in there are getting laid and we’re not.”

            “Fine.” Brad shrugged, pulling in his hulking coach for a kiss. “But don’t think that since you’re giving it away again right now that you’re not going to have to put out before bed.” 

            “Have I ever turned you down before bed before, Williams?” Coach Jackson muttered, getting on his back before his athlete.

            “Just wanted to make sure we were clear. This is my vacation. I’m getting some ass before bed.” He tapped his cock against his coach’s already well-used hole.

            “Yeah yeah. . .” Coach Jackson rolled his eyes. “Less talk, more action, Williams.”

            And with that, the two Williams men and their respective mates in that quiet, secluded cabin deep in the woods outside of Sacramento christened their “guys weekend” with a bang.


 

jhtravus

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