Murmuring, low whispers in the bleachers of the overflowing gymnasium.

"Do you see it?"

"Do you see what I see?"

"Wow! "

"Someone special is getting that regularly, I am sure."

The voices in the bleachers continue.

"Reece Garrett get your ass over here," a voice calls from the end of the mat, I run to where it came from.

"Yeah, Coach, whatcha want."

"Look at your singlet," he says.

I look down the front of my singlet, then at my crotch.

"DAMN!" I murmur. "Fuck, "I say aloud, the gym grows eerily quiet. "I nutted in my singlet," I say this aloud too.

There are a few giggles, from the girls, in the crowd, then ah-ha's, from the men. The silence ends, chattering and noise commences.

"Boy, wipe your cum with this, "Coach says then hands me a small towel, "wipe it and get your mind focused on the match, we need to win this."

His voice only audible between us, I believe.

"Yeah, Coach."

"Don't worry 'bout it, it happened to me too, "he says, "More than once, you have just became one very popular guy, imagine how the Greeks handled it, they were naked. I bet they blew their loads as they wrestled too."

Did the Coach just say what I thought he said? No one appears to have heard it but me. Did I imagine it?

I think to myself, how in the hell did I just become popular. I just shot a wad when I wrestling a guy. Oh hell, I just shot a wad as I wrestled a guy.

Panic.

Shake it off, shake it off, I tell myself. I gotta talk to Coach once this tournament is over.

We did not win the tournament. We tried but our scores were not good enough.

The guys filed into the locker room, filled with disgust as they showered and got out of there, afraid to face the wrath of Coach, I bet. I lingered around. I was curious about what he meant when he said I would be popular. I walked back to his office, in the back of the locker room. My singlet pulled down to my waist, my sweat soaked hairy chest exposed, the dried cum, a noticeable spot over my cock. There was no hiding it. I had shot a wad in a crowded gym at a college-wrestling match. I would not be forgotten but popular, that I did not understand.

I knocked on his door. He was looking down at his clipboard, deeply engrossed in what he was reading but looked up when I knocked.

He was sitting shirtless behind his desk. Hair covered his chest, not densely matted like a bear; it resembled more of an otter and the same shade of brown. He kept a little scruff on his face, not a beard, just some visible hair. The man was muscled, not overly but he did take care of himself. For a thirty-something year old former wrestler turned coach, he still turned heads. He was more of a pal than a coach.

He had a habit of working out with us when we had the field house, shirtless and just as cocky as his team of wrestlers. He would adjust his cock, cuss and swear like the rest of us, as I said, more pal than coach but everyone knew he meant business when we wrestled, he did not joke about what happened on the mat.

"Yeah, Garrett, whatcha want?" he asks.

"I have a question." I said.

"Bout what?"

"You said I would be popular because I busted a nut today," I ask, "What do you mean?"

"Did the guys say something to you after the match?"

"Yeah, they ribbed me some, "I say, "some called me 'Spunky' and 'Spunk Boy' but I expected it. Why?"

"Well, you have done it. They worry themselves about the same thing but you have actually done it, "he says, "I bet they wish they had. I imagine you are going to be getting a few phone calls and many dates. You have shown your virility as a man in public."

"I had not thought of it that way, "I say. The realization comes to me, I had. I was a Big Man on Campus; my cock had been in full glory. Everyone knew it. I was man with cock and I had had an audience. Hell, the cum stain on the front of my singlet was proof.

Coach stood up. He had been sitting in his jock. The locker room was hot; the air conditioner hardly ever worked, so being naked or nearly naked was the most comfortable.

"Next time, wear a jock Garrett, "he says, "Why haven't you showered?"

"Yes, sir," I say, "I am going there now."

"I need one too, wait up," Coach says as we walk back to the showers together, "I'll grab a few towels."

We get to the locker room showers and turn on our respective ones. I had stepped out of my singlet; my pubes matted with dried cum. The dried cum and sweat, I reeked of a misspent load of wasted man-juice.

"Cum soaked pubes, good going Garrett, "Coach says snidely, "Nice cock you got there, it may see some action soon because of your little display today."

I snicker nervously and feel my face turn red.

Coach steps under the hot water with his jock on and lets the water cascade over him. The hair of his body lies flat, as it is soaked with warm water from the shower spray. I am entranced.

"You gonna shower or stare at me Garrett, "Coach asks. He noticed me watching him.

I step under my hot water and let it run over my body, I fondled my cock and balls, freeing my pubes from the dried cum and sweat. I feel my manhood beginning to stiffen up. I grab the bar of soap from the little aluminum tray between our shower sprayers and begin to lather up.

"Garrett, soap up that cock."

"You heard me, soap up that cock, " Coach demands, "get that cock soaped up, get between your legs, soap up that hairy ass that I have been looking at for two years now. DO IT. Get that manhood of yours hard, I want to see it at full mast, Garrett, stroke that cock, "Coach orders me, he demands that I do as he says.

"What?" I am awe struck.

"Boy, you heard me, DO IT!" he is more demanding now.

I do it. I soap my cock, my pubes, my ass, while I stroke my cock. I scrub and scrub. I scrub down my whole body. I am covered in soap. My chest hair is a mass of white bubbles. I am also hard. I look over a Coach, he is a mass of bubbles too. His face, his hair, his scruff, his body, his jock, he is covered. He grabs the side straps of jock, eases it down his muscled hairy and steps out of it. He kicks the wet jockstrap to the side. His cock hits the happy trail of hair from his naval to his dark brown pubes. I can almost hear it, the steel-ness of his manhood as his manhood ricochets off the hard muscle. His cock is hard. It pokes out of a brown nest of water soaked pubes.

"You like what you see Garrett?"

"Coach, your cock is magnificent."

Coach's cock is so hard, its purple, swollen to the point of being explosive. I can see the beating of his heart, with each heartbeat, his cock jumps.

"DAMN!" I say.

He stands under the water stream as he rinses the soap and bubble off his body, the soapy mixture of dirt, sweat, loose hair and skin make their way down the drain. He is washing away the old and replenishing his masculinity. He looks at me.

"Get the soap off of you, Garrett," he orders.

"What?"

"You heard me, boy, get that damned soap off of you then turn that water off."

I rinse and I am not sure why. Is it because the Coach told me too and since I do what he says on the mat? I obey effortlessly, as I have been doing as we stood as two men in the shower, coach and athlete. I rinse and turn the shower off. Immediately, I feel two strong hands on each of my ass cheeks, spreading them, opening my ass, then the sensation of a tongue massaging me hole. I groan. The sensation is overwhelming and wonderful.

My cock stiffens.

It is Coach; he had moved with the swiftness of a cheetah and was now on bended knees, feasting on my ass. I groan some more. I reach for my already hard cock and renew my stroking.

"Oh fuck, that feels good, Coach, "I say.

He says nothing; I feel his tongue as he sweeps over my hairy hole. Occasionally, his tongue darts further into my ass, trying to go deeper as he thrusts and thrusts. This organ, I never knew, could be used in such a way. I continue to moan. I am in ecstasy.

"Turn, Garrett, "Coach demands, as he motions with his hands that he wants me frontally, "So you like your ass to be rimmed. How about I blow that hard cock. I know you have another load. Guys your age always have another load."

I turn to face him; my crotch to his face is a better description. I did not want this to end. He takes my cock into his mouth; I can feel the scruffiness of his stubble as he goes up and down on my cock. He takes me down to the root; nuzzling his nose in my pubes, breathing in the wet soaped manhood. I begin moaning anew. I am on fire. He goes up and down, varying the pace as my moans tell him my state of ecstasy. He strokes his own cock in rhythm with his each gulp of my manhood. He sucks on my cockhead, drawing the pre-cum from my full balls. I can feel the juice as it travels up my piss pipe; I am giving him, me, my spunk, my essence. My sperm, I grow harder in his mouth, it is rising in me. He stops.

"Turn around Garrett, I want to feast on the sweet ass of yours again," he says. I comply willingly. I turn to offer him my ass; I bend at the waist, not needing to be told. I want his tongue to reach places it did not get to last time. I know what awaits me and I am ready.

He lathers my hole with his spittle, mixing a part of him with me. I feel his tongue dart into my hairy hole, it goes further and further, like some miniature member opening me up for unexpected pleasure. I bend further I want more.

"Yes, yes, "I scream out in pleasure, "go deeper, deeper."

Suddenly, unexpectedly, I feel something harder go into my lubed hole. It is his two fingers. My cock grows even harder. Coach turns me with his free hand, I pivot on his two fingers, still in my tight hole, and he goes down on my cock. He is pumping his fingers in and out of my hole and sucking furiously on my cock.

I explode in his mouth.

"Mmm, "I groggily wake up, "what happened?"

I had shot a load in my sleep as if I was some horny teenage boy experiencing his first wet dream, cum had hit me in the eyes, which woke me. My chest hair and pubes covered with baby batter. What a dream. What a fucking dream.

"Fuck me, "I hear from the dark corners of the house, "Fuck me harder, harder." The voice is grows louder, "Fuck me," it grows louder still. The house is slowly getting lighter and lighter, a new day is dawning. The sun is rising.

I get up from the couch, sticky and satisfied, wiping the cum into my chest hair and pubes and all over my body. I make my way to the loud voice. I find it.

Bob is fucking Rick; they are on the corner of the bed. Rick's ass is high in the air taking a pounding. With each thrust of Bob's cock into Rick's hole, Rick lets out a yell. The harder Bob fucks him, the louder he screams. I feel my cock stiffen again. I begin to stroke, bringing spit from my mouth, mixing it with the sticky cum in my pubes.

As Bob's cock enters and exits Rick's hole, I can see the wetness from each thrust as his cock shines in the early morning light, it glistens with his own pre-cum. I stroke my cock harder.

Bob notices me. He smiles with a Cheshire cat grin and a little devil mixed in. I had tried to stay quiet but I could not contain my excitement and horniness. He motions for me to come into the room.

"Come join the fun, Reece, "Bob says, "You wanna fuck you pal, I have his hole lubed for you."

I enter the room, soaked in my own juices. The smell of sex is in the air, sweat, cum and power.

 

TallyMans

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