Standing Hall Pass

"Hey," came his sexy voice as he let me into the hotel room. He had that killer smile that first made me crush out on the guy - when he first had that press conference for his hire  my dick stood up immediately at his easygoing masculinity.

It still does. "Hey, Coach," I grinned, stepping in to follow him. This wasn't a date, but I tried to look my best for him. Sport coat, dress shirt, hair product in. Maybe because I'd met him smarted up in a blazer for an athletics award bruncheon. I was certainly overdressed now... the man had on sweatpants and an oversized team sweatshirt. 

"You're looking good, G," Don said. "I got you a beer from room service," he offered, sitting down at the table. It wasn't a luxury hotel but it was a pretty nice room. 

Coach Hartman and I had been having an affair for ten solid years now, and I was getting used to this phase. And to the man's desire to have a conversation before we fucked. So I sat down and we made chit chat, talked about the Broncos game the next day and my promotion at work.

It wasn't always like this. I was an Ohio State lax bro when we met, riding my youthful horniness and feeding of Coach Hartman's pent up sexual energy. We had some exploratory hookups at first, with wild, fevered sex, until we figured out a way to meet more frequently. I was living the dream, indulging my desire to top an older man, a man old enough to be my dad. That he was an honest to god NFL coach stud made me feel like I'd gotten the ultimate prize every time.

Then Don told me he had to break it off. Maybe a combination of guilt and fear of getting caught. I was from the Cincinnati area and I'd hung after graduation, but I knew it would suck being there and not being able to bone Hartman any more. Seeing him on the local news all the time, knowing he was just miles from where I lived. When I half lied and mentioned I was thinking of relocating to a different city, I saw the relief in his face and that nearly broke my heart.  "I'd never ask that of you, Grant, but that would be for the best," he said.

So I moved to Denver. Had a great job and was into the outdoor culture. Even made some good friends quickly. But Denver is a young city and didn't have as many bottom daddies as I craved. Still, I was a good looking ex-jock, I did OK. And I took some vacations to Palm Springs that let me scratch my dadfucking itch.

It was about two years to the day when I heard from Don. He was still "William" in my contacts for the messaging, since I'd entered his middle name for anonymity sake. "How are you doing Grant?" was all it read.

The rest was history, I thought, as Hartman and I made small talk now, eye contact getting heavier. I kicked off my sneaker and ran my foot along his anke. 

"You're making me hard," he whispered.

"That's the point, right, Don?" I teased. Working my foot higher.

He grunted and with a nod, raised his hips off the chair to pull down his sweats. The man was going commando and his smaller, thick tool stood up from the forest of grayish brown pubes. His legs weren't as toned as when we first started fooling around, but the man kept in shape. 

I peeled off my socks and undid my jeans, not taking them off yet but letting my hardon have some breathing room in my briefs. I scooted the chair to angle us facing one another, allowing my foot to travel up his inner thigh, teasing him more. I don't know that either of us were into foot play, but this was novel and sexy, and I got off seeing Don's dadcock twitch. 

"You sure you want to be with a 60 year old?" Coach asked, with a glint of flirting but also an insecurity there. He'd just had his birthday the previous week. Just as I'd had my 30th milestone the previous summer.

"Sure I'm sure," I replied. I breathed deep and felt my cock throb. I was glad it was no longer so constrained. "You sure you wanna be with a guy who gets turned on by fucking a 60 year old?"

I thought maybe I was going too far. Like a lot of guys, Don didn't like to think of himself as old, and he'd bristled any time I brought up any "dad" or "daddy" talk. But his spike jerked some, and I moved my foot up to tease his hairy balls sac and his short shaft.

He gave me a sly grin. "Maybe you have more of a granddaddy kink than a daddy one," he laughed.

"Maybe," I shrugged. "Would that bug you?" I challenged him.

He laughed. "Honestly, Grant? I don't fucking know." This was Hartman in his laid back mode, more laid back than I'd seen him in a while. I liked this version of him, I decided.

I played with his exposed genitals some more, getting into the new kind of foreplay. "Well, 60 or not, you're hot as fuck, Don."

He smiled at me, those trademark dimples forming, then lifted up his sweatshirt. It was a gesture that said he was self conscious he didn't have the body he did at 50. But a gesture that said he was seeking my approval.

I gave it to him. "Seriously, Coach," I grunted. "Your body is incredible. All of you." I wasn't laying it on thick, it was the truth. I was now partnered with my boyfriend Kevin, who twelve years older and a total bottom who indulged my incest kink. But I'd been up front with him that I had a married fuck bud who was going to stay in the picture. A famous guy who'd remain anonymous. Kevin actually suspected it was Tim Ryan since I'd fantasized, crudely and out loud, about that man being my bottom bitch more than once. 

Kevin had actually called things off with me, until he decided he could live with me hooking up with mystery man 2 or 3 times a year. I'd get a text from "William" and drop any plans I had to come over to the hotel Don was staying at. 

Like now. Hartman was feeding off my praise and my clear lust. I pulled out my cock and let him see not only its size but how hard the man was making me. 

"Why don't you come over and suck it, Coach," I hissed. I'd played up the alpha jock thing when we first met. Hartman had to get me to tone it down a little, since usually he was more likely to put out for a buddy rather than a dom type. But on occasion, I'd order him around and on occasion he'd get excited by it.

It never got old seeing the middle-aged man naked and hard, getting into servicing position between my legs. Even more as I realized he wouldn't be middle aged much longer. 

I grunted as his hands ran along my jeans and his head came closer. His hair was grayer now, much grayer, almost bristly with the silver. I ran my hand through its short length and felt him hiss, just before his tongue made contact with my dick. 

Don Hartman wasn't a good cocksucker when we met. That gave me a source of pride, that I was the one who trained him, taught him the way to treat a dick. If I wasn't into fucking so much and if Coach didn't have such an amazing ass, I'd be happy sticking to a nice BJ and calling it an evening.

But it had been too long since we'd gotten together. So I'd let Hartman work me up, tease me to a full fuck-hard. And maybe he wanted to indulge his newfound oral fixation, too. Fine by me. I just pulled him off when I got too close.

"You didn't have me come over just to suck me, did you, Coach?" I growled.

Don's fist now encircled my spit wet prick. "Nah, G.... I need this in me, man. You know that?" His face blushed red at the admission. Carrying on an affair with Hartman was an emotional mine field, but I learned to embrace that part of it, too. 

I ran my thumb along his cheek. Still can't believing the man I lusted for in my high school years was here with me now, still... again. "I know, Coach.... you know it turns me on to hear you say it."

He gave me a sexy smile. The embarrassment not giving way fully but transforming into something else. "You know, I thought I could go cold turkey... when you moved away...."

That hit me deep. Maybe I was the one going on the emotional rollercoaster with Don. My whole hand now patted his cheek, stroking his face tenderly. A part of me wanted to give him a slap, but he and I didn't have that dynamic and never would. "I'm here now, Don.... maybe it's once a year, maybe it's more. Whenever you need this cock, tell me, OK?"

He nodded, almost grateful. Fuck, my dick throbbed and started leaking. Hartman's eyes watched excitedly. "Maybe I can fly you out East sometime. If your boyfriend would be OK with that." We had an asymmetrical understanding. Don could talk about Kevin, but his family was off limits to discuss when we hooked up.

"He'll be fine," I replied, reassuring him. Don still had major cheating guilt, but his one stipulation was that he was not going to be a homewrecker for me. "He knows I need this."

With that I leaned forward. Don leaned up and met me. We didn't always kiss, particularly in that "it's just a fuck" phase when we rekindled our affair. But lately, Coach had been open to it. So I greedily kissed back, working as much game as I could into each lip lock. 

It wasn't entirely romantic, though. I was horny, and Hartman was crazy pent up. Maybe his wife hadn't been putting out much lately. Or maybe he'd just missed a man's touch after too long. I put no claim on the man, but I knew I was the only guy he fooled around with. 

I stood up, and Don was a half beat behind. We embraced and I let Don help me take off my clothes. I was regretting now that I hadn't come in casual attire like Don, because I would be naked now. Sometimes the slow stripping is fun, but just then I wanted to get naked with this hunk of a granddaddy. It had been too long. 

"GOD!" Don hissed as I finally peeled off my shirt. I hit the gym pretty regularly and I guess I was in even better shape than last time we'd hooked up. His hands greedily ran over my muscle.

I let him explore my body, then softly patted his ass. "On the bed, Coach. Face down."

He grinned and nodded. I watched him crawl up on the bed, pulling down the covers and settling into a comfortable position. I got up behind him and took a second to massage those daddy buns, feeling just what a 60 year man felt like. Hartman was the oldest guy I'd ever been with, and I found a strange thrill in that. He wasn't the man I first fucked ten years ago, but mentally I still had 50 year old Don in my head and loved the way that fed into the 60 year stud in front of me. Oscillating back and forth, each version bringing out the hotter part of the other.

I leaned in and started burying my face in his ass. 

This was my calling card. Before me, Hartman didn't realize he loved getting eaten out so much. After our first time together, he knew that's what he'd been missing. Sometimes our rim sessions would be epic, but tonight it was just going to be intense. Maybe 5 minutes of me feasting on the coach hole I missed so much. 

Hartman was worked up too much too. Within a minute he was bucking his hunky ass into my face, challenging me to hold his hamstrings or hips down to steady him. I did just that and powerdrilled my tongue in and out. 

I couldn't take any more though. Thankfully Don had set out some lube. I slicked myself up and fingered a good bit into his hole. I knew he'd be tight, which was great but also not. Gently I guided him up to into a doggy position. 

He was horny but also a little nervous. I patted his lower back and massaged his muscle some while my other hand worked my lubed pole along his crack and over his pucker. 

"It's like riding a bike, Coach," I assured him. 

He chuckled. "I want you to open me up again, G," he hissed. 

I did. Bluntly I applied force to his ring, until I popped through. I actually wasn't skilled at this when I was 20 but I had it down now... force, then restraint, perfectly timed. I breached that coach hole and then held the breach still so the man could get comfortable with a dick in him again.

"Feeling good, Coach?" I asked when I felt the vicelike spasms let up.

"Jesus, G, you have no idea," he answered. "Go ahead... I'm all yours, buddy."

The magic words. I pushed all the way inside Don Hartman, feeling every bit of warmth and snugness and getting off on his mature muscle. Dad, Granddad... who the fuck cared who he was in my psyche just then. I gave gentle but deep strokes. All the way in, all the way out. I used his hips for leverage, slowly. 

"Fuck me, Grant... oh god yeah..." Don hissed in time to my cock. Hartman may take a lot of work to break in sometimes, but when the man got into it, he really got into it. 

My fingers gripped around his waist tighter and I fucked harder. I was amazed I was able to hold off this long, but it was gonna happen soon. I was gonna spunk the insides of one of the league's best coaches. I pounded faster, even, feeling so close. I didn't know how close Don was, but his hand was now on his spike, working himself in sync to the fuck I was throwing him.

"Goddamnit, Coach, I'm gonna cum... gonna cum inside you," I announced.

Maybe Don was close already. Or maybe the idea of my sperm shooting in him was the trigger. But I watched his back muscles tense and I heard his deep orgasmic grunt. Hartman was beating me to the finish line by a split second.

My prick fired heavy inside him. Several full jets of my cum flooded his raw NFL coach ass, soaking it full. I always felt like I had won a prize trophy after nailing Hartman, but I also liked to think I was giving him his own personal trophy and keepsake. 

I slowed my hips and finally stopped, leaning down to kiss between his shoulder blades before I pulled out. 

"That was incredible, Coach," I said. I felt I could never praise this man enough and in the afterglow I always felt grateful as hell.

He had a content smile when he rolled onto his back. The next time I'd have to do him missionary and take advantage of seeing his more mature body. "That it was, G." His hand reached forward and felt up my thigh muscle. "Maybe we can shower off together?"

I still never knew which Hartman I was gonna get. The man who'd be quiet and standoffish after orgasm. Or the one who wanted some intimacy after. But I rolled with the punches. I offered a hand and helped him out of bed. 

We actually didn't kiss much in the shower, but it was amazing feeling up each other's body, soaping and rinsing. 

When we dried off and got back into the main part of the room, I knew not to push my luck. "I know you have a big game tomorrow, Coach," I said, walking over to find my briefs. 

"Yeah," he said. "But if you wanna come over tomorrow night... we can go a little longer then."

I knew I'd have to make this up to Kevin somehow. A whole weekend with another man. But I also knew I'd be back in this hotel room, probably overnighting here. I wasn't gonna pass up on that chance.

"That'd be awesome, Coach," I said, stepping up to get one last kiss. This time it was Don who didn't want to break it off. I felt my dick stir and knew I could go again with this coach hunk, but I would save it for tomorrow night. 

I grinned as I pulled back. Maybe cocky, which I tried to keep in check around Don. But he smirked at my reaction. "Jesus, G... you haven't changed a bit since you were in college."

That wasn't true. But I knew what he meant. And I knew he was like me, getting off on the dynamic between me 10 years ago and me now. And liking that difference. 

I didn't reply. I didn't know what to say that would be better than the afterglow we were feeling. So I got dressed, eye contact still heavy on Don as he sat, naked and content in his chair, watching me and finally finishing the last of his beer. I picked up my sportcoat... I could put it on later. Tomorrow, I'd definitely be casual. 

"Just text me tomorrow and let me know what you're feeling," I instructed. Sometimes Don wasn't in the mood for sex after a tough game, and I always wanted to give him an out.

"You know I will, G," he said. That happy-go-lucky smile getting a more serious paternal look. "Thanks again for coming over."

"Anytime, Coach," I said. "You know that." I patted my pocket to make sure I had my phone. Then I bid him good night.