I'm extremely excited to announce that I've started a tumblr page!
You'll find exclusive info on my stories and sneak-peaks for upcoming chapters, as well as a place where you can learn a little more about me and ask me any questions you may have wanted to ask me since you've been reading my stories. I'll also be writing some shorter exclusive stories and sharing them there if you're looking to whet your appetite.
As long as you guys are interested in reading more, I'll keep writing. You just have to let me know you're out there! You might not believe me, but just hearing from one or two of you guys really makes my day and makes me want to keep writing even more. Keeping a story like this going 30+ chapters in is hard work, but as long as there are people out there who are still getting something out of it, I want to keep going.
“Connors! What the fuck kind of game do you think you’re playing?” Coach Jackson roared as one of the guys on the team missed an easy pass during practice. “You think this is fucking Candy Land or some shit? When you see the ball coming your way you fucking hustle, understand?”
“Sorry sir.” Connors replied faintly, getting back in place and wiping his brow.
“I don’t know why Coach is in a tiff today.” Alex Moss, one of the line-backers, said to me, laughing. “Did you see that hicky he’s got on his neck?”
“Yeah. . .” I replied, looking over at Brad, who all of the sudden seemed to have clammed up. “Guess someone got lucky, huh?”
“I heard Coach Jackson’s fucking that chick from that hospital show. You know, the hot one with the huge tits.” Our teammate added, absentmindedly adjusting his crotch.
“You don’t say. . .” I said to him, trying my best to acknowledge what he said without egging him on to continue.
“I don’t think that chick is Coach Jackson’s type.” Brad stepped in, territorially.
“What, you don’t think he could pull a chick like that?” Alex laughed. “Dante swears he saw her at one of the games a few weeks ago. Cheering us on. Fuck, can you believe that? That chick coming to our game?”
“Keep dreaming, man.” Brad laughed.
Jason Foster looked over at us, like he was trying to hear what we were talking about.
“I don’t know man, did you see the size of Coach Jackson’s cock that time he had to shower off with us that one time? I mean, I’m not a chick but chicks like big dicks like that.” Alex said. “You know. . . not that I was looking or anything.”
Before Brad could think of some smartass response Coach Jackson thankfully blew his whistle, bringing us back to the drill.
“Alright Foster, you’re free to go. I want you here at 7:30 am tomorrow morning running laps for the time you’re missing this afternoon, understand?” Coach Jackson yelled from the other end of the field.
“Yes sir.” Jason nodded as he took off his helmet, wiping his brow, as he headed to the locker room from the field.
The heat was getting to me and after seeing how refreshing it looked as Jason ran his fingers through his newly-freed, cropped hair, I followed suit. I couldn’t help but watch him as he slowly made his way from the field. Tall, athletic; classically handsome. A true, good ‘ole American pretty boy if there ever was one. The type of guy who-
I was flat on my back, the wind knocked out of me. I hit the ground before the football did, bouncing right next to my shoulder and then rolling away in the grass.
“Ollie!” Brad yelled, running over to me. “Ollie, you okay brother?”
“Y-yeah. . .” I mumbled, reaching up to my face. There was blood running down from right above my left eye brow, but I was more embarrassed than physically pained.
“Move the fuck over, Connors, Jesus, NOW you decide to be where the action is.” I heard Coach Jackson mutter as he pushed through the group of guys huddled around me. “Africa, you okay?”
Everyone’s eyes being completely fixed on me was making me nervous, wishing they would just turn away for a second while I got my bearings.
“Olujimi, can you hear me?” Coach Jackson asked, kneeling over me to check out the cut.
“I’m fine, Coach, really.” I answered him, sitting up.
“Here, Ollie.” Brad said, right at my side, pulling his shirt over his head and pressing it to my forehead gently. “It’s gonna be okay, brother.” He rubbed my back, helping me feel at ease.
“I’m really okay guys, honestly.” I laughed, hating all the fuss everyone was making. “Seriously, I’ll be fine. Just let me go wash up.”
“Come on, Ollie, I’ll go with you.” Brad said, pulling me up gently and wrapping my arm around his shoulder.
“Don’t be silly, I’m fine. Really.” I assured him, patting his shoulder confidently. “It’s just a flesh wound.” I added, knowing a reference to his favorite movie would make him feel better.
Brad laughed, easing up a little. “Hit smack dab in the freakin’ face harder than a Mack truck and he’s still cracking jokes.”
“Hey, at least you know I pay attention when you make me watch all these movies with you.”
“Alright Africa, get off my field and go clean yourself up.” Coach Jackson said, patting me on the back. “You’re tough, kid.” He turned to Brad. “Williams, I know the two of you are practically joined at the fucking hip, but are you gonna be able to manage without your Tweedle-Dum here for 10 fucking minutes or am I gonna have to go get you a tampon and some fucking tissues so you can pull yourself the fuck together until he gets back?”
Brad smirked at him and turned back to me. “You sure you’re okay, brother?”
“I’m fine, Brad. Get back to practice.”
“You heard the man, folks. Get back in your positions.” Coach Jackson clapped, blowing on his whistle. “Africa, you just holler if you need someone, understand?”
“Yes sir.” I waved at them, holding Brad’s shirt to my head as I walked back to the locker room.
“Dude, what about your shirt, man?” One of the guys asked him as they got into positions..
“I’m fine like this.” I heard Brad say, relishing the feeling of the cool air on his torso.
“You sure, Brad, there’s-“ One of the guys started before Coach Jackson butted in.
“He said he’s fine without a shirt, Connors, what are you the fucking fashion police or some shit?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. There was pretty much a 99.9% chance Brad Williams was getting laid big time after practice this afternoon. Hell, given how hot his abs looked slicked up with sweat under this heat, maybe even during practice if Coach Jackson couldn’t find a way to keep his eyes off him.
When I stepped through the locker room I tossed Brad’s shirt by my locker and got out of my clothes, heading over to the showers. I heard the water on and for a moment I wondered who could have been using the showers until I remembered Jason Foster had needed to cut practice early, leaving just a minute before I did. Hell, him distracting me as he walked away was the whole reason I got hit in the face in the first place.
I rounded the corner and almost had to stop in my tracks. Jason Foster was standing under the showerhead, running his arms down his lithe, athletic muscles. Fuck, they don’t make porn this hot.
I cleared my throat so that he would know I was there but the water was too loud for him to hear me. I kind of felt guilty for looking at him like this. I mean sure, I’d seen him naked numerous times before, but ever since he stopped whatever it was between Brad and us, I just felt like I wasn’t supposed to look at him like that anymore.
He ran his fingers through his hair, leaning his head back to let the water envelop him. God he was beautiful. He was the only guy taller than me on the team, and seeing him run his strong, long arms over his body was simply mesmerizing. My cock immediately started to react, thinking about how many times I’d held those long legs of his in my hands as I sank my big, black cock into him over and over again. Leaning down to kiss that angelic face as he let me in deeper inside of him. My cock jumped and I realized I needed to step in before I got caught checking him out so blatantly.
I stepped under the other showerhead and turned on the water. Jason turned his head and looked over at me, his eyes going from the cut on my brow and then subtly going down to my cock.
I opened my mouth to explain myself. That I was only in here to clean myself up. That I knew he and I being alone together just wasn’t something we could do anymore. That I understood his boundaries. That I respected them. But for some reason I just didn’t say anything. There was just too much history with us.
For a while he looked me up and down. Empathy registered on his face as he looked over my cut. He looked like he too was trying to find the right words to say. But I guess he, like me, was just caught off guard by the situation. The two of us here. Very alone.
He brought his hand to the dial above him and turned it off, the new-found quietness of just my lone showerhead running almost deafeningly still.
Without saying anything he slowly stepped under the water above me, his body so close to mine I could almost feel his energy radiating through me. He was so tall, the water was barely getting to me.
He leaned his head down and brought his lips to mine. I could feel him giving into temptation. He started off kissing me slowly and then as lust took over he began to thrust his tongue into my mouth hungrily.
He wrapped his long arms around my back and pulled me into him, our bodies rubbing against each other as the water poured over us.
“God, I’d forgotten how much better it is kissing dudes.” He said, pulling away for a second before starting right back up again with his assault with his tongue.
I thought about stopping him. That even though I wanted this so badly with him, that he wasn’t thinking straight. But I couldn’t. He wanted this. I wanted this.
Before I even realized it he was smoothly gripping my rock-hard prick with his strong hands, feeling the length of it as the water ran over our bodies. It didn’t take long until I was completely lathered in soap suds, his hands running easily over my flared prick head.
Without another word, he kept his eyes on mine as he slowly turned around, guiding the head of my big, black cock to his tight, white jock hole.
Fuck, he was tight. Hell, this good ‘ole American pretty boy power bottom had gone so long without getting fucked it’s like he was a total virgin again.
He winced at the intrusion and I waited for him to get used to my size. He leaned his head back and kissed me, running his hands along my back, feeling my overworked muscles. Everything that made me a man, he paid close, personal attention to.
I slowly started to sink more of my cock into him and he groaned in response.
I let his moans of pleasure dictate the speed in which I pounded him. If anyone was even near the locker room they would have heard this pretty boy jock getting royally fucked but I didn’t care.
I had missed this. I wasn’t in love with Jason Foster. But when you’ve had sex with someone as many times as we had in such a short span of time, you can’t help but develop at least some kind of feelings for them. Maybe not love, but a kind of warmth and connection. It was just biological.
He didn’t have to tell how he wanted me to fuck him because I already knew how he wanted it. I knew all of his spots. I knew what he liked.
He was bent over under the showerhead, jacking himself off in perfect synchronization with my thrusts into him, groaning deeply. I leaned down and brought his face to mine and kissed him as I walked us over to the wall and pushed him against it, fucking him with deep, long strokes.
He moaned into me as we made out, and I could tell I was making him cum. He lapped at my lips with his tongue as he sprayed the tile floor beneath us. And he was making it count.
Jason Foster might have been getting laid on the regular for the past few months but it had been a long, long time since he’d gotten the cum fucked out of him. He needed this.
The tight hole around my big, black cock was pulsing uncontrollably as I sent him into his deep climax. Before I knew it I was cumming with him. For the first time in a long, long time, this pretty boy jock power bottom was getting his ass flooded with cum.
He pulled at my lip with his teeth, in complete ecstasy.
We continued to make out with each other as the water ran over our feet and down the drain, carrying a blend of our cum with it.
I turned the water off and he broke away from me and looked into my eyes, trying to find the right words to say.
“Look Ollie, I-“
“It’s okay, man. You don’t have to say anything.” I told him, knowing he must be going through a whirlwind of emotions right now.
He nodded as he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel.
As we both got dressed we didn’t say anything. When he finished tying his second shoe he finally looked up at me. “I hope you’ll be okay, man.” He mumbled. “With your eye, I mean.”
“I’ll be fine, Jason.” I smiled at him, rubbing the cut above my eye to make sure it had stopped bleeding.
He made his way to the double-doors leading outside and turned to look at me as if he was about to say something else, but whatever it had been, he decided not to.
I wasn’t sure if I felt guilty about what had just happened. It’s not like I had been the aggressor in the situation. And I had made him cum like crazy. I knew that whatever Jason was going through was his own journey. And I was someone safe that he knew he could trust to help him explore whatever feelings he had toward guys. I figured that was exactly the person he needed. And hey, if fucking Jason Foster was my contribution to his overall well-being, that was certainly a responsibility I was willing to take.
I managed to make it through the rest of practice without any other embarrassing mishaps. After the last of the guys filtered out of the locker room to head on home, Brad tossed me the keys to the car as he put on his shirt.
“Here, you can take the car home. I’ll just have Coach Jackson drop me off at home after I drop a load in him in his office.”
Conversations like this weren’t even the least bit out of the ordinary anymore. “Nah, I’ve got some work I need to do in the library first. I’ll meet you back here in an hour?”
“Alright, brother.” Brad said, taking the keys back. The door to Coach Jackson’s office swung open, hitting the wall with a thud, making the two of us jump.
Coach Jackson’s low, gravely voice called out from the doorframe. “What’s the hold-up, Williams, are we gonna fuck or what?” He was standing in nothing but his signature slutty wind-shorts, stretching at the seams to accommodate a big, fat erection jutting up against his hip.
“Quit your bitching, Coach., I’ll be there in a second.” Brad waved him off, turning back to me. “Alright, I’ll see you later back here. What are you going to the library for anyway?”
Coach Jackson cleared his throat obnoxiously. “By all means, Williams, go ahead and chit-chat with your gal pal over there and keep me waiting.” He tapped his foot dramatically. “You better hope one of these days they don’t come out with a dildo that gets me off as good as you do, Williams, or you’ll find yourself out of this steady pussy and you’ll have to find something else to put that jock dick of yours into.”
“You really think you’ll find anything or anyone that gets you off like I do, Coach?”
“Cocky little fucker. . .” Coach Jackson grunted, reaching up and twisting his nipple as he slipped his hand into his shorts.
Brad just rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Ollie, does my dad get this annoying when he needs dick?”
“Do you really want me to answer that question?” I laughed.
“Good call.” Brad chuckled.
Coach Jackson sighed impatiently and marched his way toward us, towering over the pair of us as he stopped right at our feet. “Look, Africa, I’m glad you’re feeling better and all after that thing at practice today, but frankly, if you stand here and cock-block me for one more fucking minute then I’m gonna have you and Williams running laps tomorrow morning with Foster and I’ll just go home and jack off instead.”
And with that, he grabbed Brad Williams by the collar and dragged him into his office like a horny caveman, slamming the door behind them and pushing his athlete up against the door, thrusting his tongue into his mouth and guiding his hands to his willing ass.
I shook my head, laughing as I passed his office to head over to the library.
“You’re gonna really get it now, Coach.” I heard Brad warn him as they made out against the door.
“Yeah, Williams? Try and fucking break me. I dare you.”
As much as I wanted to stay and listen to Brad and Coach Jackson’s love-hate-fuck or whatever they call it these days, I really did have to get to the library.
As I walked across campus, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I had just done with Jason Foster. Even when Coach mentioned his name earlier my dick jumped when he said it. I decided to let him work out whatever he needed to work out in his head, and be that safe person he can go if he needed someone. Whether that meant a willing ear when he needed to talk or just a hard cock when he needed to get fucked, I was going to be there for him.
After finishing off my paper in the library a little early, I made sure to walk back over to the gymnasium at about half my normal speed, just to make sure I gave Brad and Coach Jackson enough time to finish up.
By the time I made it back to the locker room, I could hear their grunting and groaning all the way from the entrance.
“Damnit Williams, when I say dick me harder that means I expect you to fucking dick me harder, understand?” The sounds of skin slapping against skin grew louder. “AAGH! FUCK YEAH, WILLIAMS! Good boy! Give me that jock cock!”
“Shut. . .” I heard my host-brother panting. “The fuck. . . Up. . . “
“Make me, Williams.” Coach Jackson taunted him. I stepped up to the door and could see Coach Jackson’s giant legs in the air through the window as Brad hammered into him on top of the desk.
“That’s it, Williams. Fuck, kid, you’re right on my spot. UGHH!”
At that moment Brad wiped his brow and noticed me through the window.
“Come on in, Ollie.” He laughed, waving me over.
“We’ll be done in a second, Africa. Williams here owes me a nut.” Coach Jackson grunted at me, furiously jacking himself off as his athlete railed into him. It was as if I’d walked in on them looking over college brochures. Neither of them even batted an eye at the prospect of having an audience.
“We shoulda been through about 20 minutes ago but Williams here just had to climb on again for another ride.” Coach Jackson continued, nodding as Brad slammed into him.
“Yeah, well I got my second nut already, so what are we still doing here, Coach?” Brad panted.
“You know the rules, Williams.” Coach Jackson muttered, not breaking eye contact with his athlete. “You want seconds, then you can have it as long as you make sure and get me off, too. Tit for tat. I’m not running a fucking charity here.”
Brad grew visibly impatient. “Okay that’s it, you either cum within the next sixty seconds or you’re on your own, Coach.” Brad warned him, getting up on the desk and pushing Coach Jackson’s strong legs over his head so he was fucking him as deep as possible.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about, Williams! Now get me off.”
Each time Brad slammed his hips down into our superior the big oak desk moved a few inches.
“Fifty. . . seconds. . . “ Brad panted as he put all of his strength into it.
“Not gonna need it.” Coach Jackson grunted, leaning his head back as he furiously jacked himself off while his athlete hammered into him. “Aw fuck Williams, right there. . . Right fuckin’ there. . . UUGHH!” Coach Jackson yelled as he started to shoot all over his chest.
Brad had officially fucked the desk up against the wall. Each crashing move he made into Coach Jackson rattled all the pictures and awards hanging on the wall, causing one of them to rock off of its hinges and fall to the floor, which a loud crash. Coach Jackson just ignored it as he rode out his orgasm with a big, satisfied grin on his face.
Brad leaned down and thrust his tongue in Coach Jackson’s mouth, squeezing the man’s nipples, exhaustedly.
As he started to pull out Coach Jackson stopped him. “Where do you think you’re going, kid, I believe I had about 40 seconds left on the machine?” He grinned, reaching over and giving his athlete a loud spank.
“Machine’s out of service, Coach.” Brad replied, pulling out and leaning back, exhausted.
“We need to work on your stamina then, Williams. Maybe I really should make you run laps with Foster tomorrow morning.” Coach Jackson smirked at him.
“I’ve given him four loads since this morning and he’s still not shutting up.” Brad laughed, turning to me.
“I’m just making sure you’ll always be capable of handling the job, Williams.” Coach Jackson muttered, reaching his hand down to his hole and pushing a finger in, playing with the jock cum beginning to leak out of it. “This cunt’s got a mind of it’s own thanks to you. When I wanna get fucked I expect to get fucked, understand?”
“You want some more, Coach?” Brad challenged him, tapping his cock against Coach Jackson’s hole again. “You say the word and I’ll make sure you get fucked.”
Coach Jackson opened his mouth to reply, most likely some surly remark, but I couldn’t sit through this anymore.
“Oh for Christ’s sake, I’m putting my foot down.” I interjected, shaking my head, laughing. “Brad, we’re going home.” I threw him his clothes.
“Sorry Ollie.” Brad laughed, catching his pants as I threw them to him. “I forgot my manners.” He gestured to Coach Jackson. “If you’re looking for some pussy before we head home, he’s all yours.”
“Sure, hop on, Africa. I’m sure I could shoot again with that big, black cock rubbing against my spot, no problem.” Coach offered, hiking his legs up for me.
“Thanks, but believe it or not, sometimes the world doesn’t just revolve around getting laid.” I laughed, politely declining. “Come on, Brad. We’re going home.”
“Suit yourself.” Coach Jackson muttered. “But the offer still stands. Mike can’t keep all that black cock to himself. Consider this a standing invitation for some ass, no questions asked, you understand?”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Coach.” I laughed.
“Any other standing invitations I should know about, Coach?” Brad asked, crossing his arms.
“You stay out of my shit and I’ll stay out of yours, Williams..” Coach Jackson smirked.
He lifted his huge frame off of the desk and stepped onto the floor, making sure not to step on the glass fragments scattered all over the floor.
“You fucker, you know what I had to do to win that award, Williams?” Coach Jackson muttered, kicking the glass with his feet.
“Yeah, you must have gotten on your knees and blown practically everyone in the NFL for a plaque that fancy.”
Coach Jackson gave him an unimpressed glare.
“Sorry, Coach.” Brad said to him, patting his giant pec with his hand.
“It’s fine, Williams, but I’m dragging your ass out of bed bright and early Saturday morning and you and I are gonna fasten this thing down so it doesn’t happen again.” He patted the big oak desk with his paw. “I can’t expect to replace my whole fucking office every time you wander in here expecting to get your fucking balls drained, kid.”
“Aw, come on, Coach, really?” Brad sulked. “The guys on the team are all going out to the lake this weekend.”
“It’s either you spend your Saturday helping me nail this thing down or no more pussy after practice from here on out, Williams.” He crossed his arms and stared his athlete down. “Your pick.”
“Alright fine, but I expect you to climb up there and spread those legs of yours the second we finish.”
“You manage to get through a couple hours without pissing me off and actually follow orders, then you can consider my afternoon cleared and this hole with your name on it.” Coach Jackson replied. “The day Brad Williams listens to anything the fuck I say. . .”
“Hey, when there’s a chance at pussy at the end of it, I’ll follow orders all you want, Coach.”
“You see the shit I let this kid get away with, Africa?” Coach Jackson laughed, turning to me.
“I don’t even pretend to know what’s going on with you two, but whatever works. . .” I replied, throwing my hands up.
“Yeah, well at least he’s got a decent sized dick and he’s pretty to look at.” Coach Jackson smirked, looking his athlete over.
That night I was spooning up against Mr. Williams playing with his chest hair as we lay in bed together after a particularly good fuck.
He hummed contentedly as I kissed his shoulder. “You want to hear about some fun I had during practice today, Mr. Williams?”
He sat up with an excited look on his face. He could always tell when I had some hot, illicit story that I couldn’t wait to fill him in on. “Tell me, stud!”
“Well, I’m not going to mention any names.” I said, deciding to keep Jason’s identity safe until he was ready.
“I understand.” Mr. Williams nodded.
“Well, it was with one of the guys on the team. . . “ I paused, knowing Mr. Williams was loving this.
“Damn, Ollie, keep going.” He grinned, reaching over to play with my cock as he listened intently.
“It’s kind of. . . complicated, I guess.” I struggled, trying to find the right way to describe Brad’s and my relationship with Jason Foster.
“How complicated?” He asked me. “Wait, don’t tell me he’s the one who gave you this?” He brought his hand to the cut above my eye and gently rubbed around it.
“No, of course not. I really did just get hit in the face with a football.” I insisted. “Brad can vouch for me.”
“It’s okay, Ollie. I trust you. Go on.”
“We kind of fucked in the team shower while the rest of the guys were in practice.” I blushed, scratching the back of my head.
“God, that’s so fucking hot.” He sighed, really starting to jerk me off now as he listened.
“I couldn’t wait to tell you.” I grinned, kissing him.
“And boy do you know what gets me going. So what’s so complicated about this guy?”
“How do I put this?” I said aloud as I thought about it.
“You’ve had sex with him before?” He asked inquisitively.
“How’d you know?” I asked, taken aback.
“I just know how to read you.” He laughed, releasing my cock and sitting back so we could talk.
“Well then I’ll have to be extra careful from now on, then. I can’t have you sniffing this guy out.” I smiled.
“Mmhmm.” Mr. Williams grinned, accepting the challenge. “Does Brad know about you two?”
I could feel my face flush deep red.
“Oh come on, Ollie, you’re making this too easy!” He laughed, grabbing my arm and holding my hand.
“Why can’t I lie to you!” I replied, frustrated.
“I think it’s sweet.” He said, bringing my hand up to his lips and kissing it. “But I’ll stay out of it if it really means that much to you.”
“Mmhmm.” I replied, skeptically.
He sat there for a while, deep in thought and then looked back over to me. “Have Brad and this guy ever. . .?”
“Does the phrase “staying out of it” have a different meaning here in America?” I laughed.
“Well I’m his dad! I feel like I should be aware of these things to make sure he’s not getting himself into too much trouble.”
“Honestly Mr. Williams, your son is way too busy getting laid to be getting himself in any real trouble.”
He laughed as he considered what I had said. “Well, considering the worst case scenarios, I guess I can live with that. He’s a smart guy. He can look out for himself.” He started thinking to himself before he looked over me with that same look in his eye. “So have they?”
“Have who what?”
“Brad and this guy?”
“I don’t know.” I lied, looking away.
“Okay, so that’s a resounding yes.” He laughed.
“Goodnight Mr. Williams.” I turned away, throwing the pillow over my head, hating how easy it was for him to read me.
“Alright alright! I’m sorry Ollie. Truce?”
I turned back over, embarrassed.
“Oh my god.” He whispered, his eyes widening, as if he had just come to some shocking, sudden realization.
“Is Brad fucking his football coach?” He deadpanned.
“GOODNIGHT MR. WILLIAMS.” I laughed, throwing my pillow over his head and turning away again.
“Okay, now I’ll lay o-“ He paused.
I turned over again, trying to read him.
“It’s Jason Foster, isn’t it?”
My heart jumped. “No it’s not.”
He looked me in the eye and I tried my best to not blink. But it was too much. I immediately looked away from him.
“Oh my god, it is, isn’t it!”
“How did you know?” I sighed, really disappointed in myself.
“Mostly just wishful thinking. But then I remembered he and Brad had been good friends for a while before you moved here and I just kind of pieced it together.”
“Well I hope you feel really good about yourself.” I sulked. “This guy’s probably scared out of his mind about liking guys and you just had to sniff him out of me.”
“Hey, I think I know what it’s like realizing you like guys at an inopportune time in your life.” He said, reaching over to run his hand over my shoulder. “Or at least one specific guy.”
I leaned over and kissed him.
“So was it good?” He asked, grinning.
“Yeah, it was good. Really good.” I paused. “I feel kind of guilty talking about him like this now that you know who he is.”
“I understand.” He nodded. “He’s lucky to have you, Ollie. Someone he can trust.”
“I don’t know, Mr. Williams, he and Brad had been having sex since they first got on the team and he kept his secret for him all this time.”
“I guess you’re right. Brad’s a good guy.”
“Yeah, he is.” I nodded.
“I feel so bad for Jason, though.” He sighed. “His dad Greg and I go way back. We’re on the Parent Teacher Association together and from what Greg tells me, his wife is away a lot. Kind of like how Kate was before you got here.”
“I didn’t know.” I frowned.
“I just feel like Brad is in such a better place now that he has you and me, and of course Dan. And that he can be who he is and not be afraid anymore. I just wish Jason could have the same thing. He probably feels so alone.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” I nodded.
I was always blown away with how Mr. Williams could empathize with other people like that. In such a short amount of time he went through all of that in that handsome head of his.
“Just promise me you’ll help him through this, Ollie.” He said to me, kissing my hand.
He guided my hand down his chest until it got to his hardening cock. “You see what listening to you tell me about you getting laid does to me, stud?” He grinned.
“You’re absolutely carnivorous.” I laughed, kissing him.
“Can you blame me?” He grinned, grabbing onto my cock and giving it a good squeeze. “You know, I’m probably still lubed up from 20 minutes ago.”
I made out with him as I rolled him onto his back and guided my cock to his opening.
I pushed in with no resistance and could feel the load I had already inseminated him with earlier easing my entry.
“I just can’t help it, Ollie.” Mr. Williams groaned into my mouth as I fucked him. “Listening to you talk about your other conquests. It just gets me so fucking hot for you.”
His hands were on my back, pulling me into him.
“God I love you, Mr. Williams.” I moaned, kissing him.
I grabbed his prick in my hands and jacked him off with my thrusts, our tongues sliding against each other as we experienced the greatest pleasure we could experience with each other.
I didn’t even need to ask him when he was getting close. I knew his body too well. I knew all of his signs.
I wanted us to cum together. I slowed my pace on his cock as I increased the rate of my thrusts into him. I could feel his cock throbbing in my hand and knew he was right on the edge. Just when I knew he couldn’t take another second of teasing, I closed my grip tight and brought him over the edge, shooting inside of him just as the first jet of sperm shot out of his cock and onto the bedframe behind him.
His tongue lapped at mine as we climaxed together. There was no one else on this earth that meant more to me than this man. I felt like after each time we had sex, I loved him even more. And seeing the look of complete adoration in his eyes as he looked up at me, I knew he felt the exact same thing.
Sperm continued to dribble out of his cock after I had finished shooting inside of him. He always did seem to have a longer climax than I did.
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him, kissing me tenderly, my big black cock still firmly planted inside of him.
We didn’t feel the need to say anything more. After what felt like just a short time but was most likely longer than we both realized, my wilting cock exited his ass and his lips broke away from mine.
He looked into my eyes and gave me the most genuine smile.
And with that, he turned over again and lay his head on the pillow as he nuzzled up against me again, closing his eyes as we enjoyed each other’s company.
They say that you can measure a good life with just a collection of moments. And I knew that even though this wasn’t the first time I had fallen asleep next to this man and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, this moment would be something I would remember forever. If you really could measure a good life with a collection of moments, then I felt like the richest man in the world. Because, after all, why stick with a moment when you’ve got a whole lifetime of nights like this ahead of you.