(I have chosen to write this story with past and present unfolding side by side which I hope is not too confusing. I have headed the separate components as to clearly distinguish one from the other and added chapters due to the length)
Did you ever have a man crush when younger?
Anthony's crush as a young man was his rugby coach, a tall strong masculine man whom had captured his imagination and had been woven into every erotic fantasy that filled his mind as he jerked off. There playful interaction had left a long lasting impression on Anthony but he had never believed anything more physical would ever truly happen between them. But sometimes when you least expect it fate steps in.
It had been just one of thousands of faceless profiles on a gay hook up site but the intricate tattoo upon the bare upper torso had instantly caught Anthony's attention. Now in the presence of that man he dropped to his knees as the Coach unbuckled his belt and undone his zipper. Anthony lurched forward, his nose pressing firm against the pouch of the off white stained cotton jock strap now exposed. The warm pouch that had encased and clad the large flaccid cock and balls for some time, and in return released the most intense rank odour that had built up and been retained by the fabric.
The musky man stench that the material released into his nasal passage and down deep into his lungs was to Anthony like the sweetest nectar and it triggered the memory of the first jockstrap he had taken from the rugby Coach
Anthony had realised once he was at the bus stop with his team mates that his phone was missing and as the bus pulled up Antony searched his pockets for a third time
"Fucking bollocks!" Anthony shouted out
"I have got to go back to the changing rooms, I will catch you guys later" Anthony explained, and with that he run back to the playing fields and to the old run down wooden chalet that contained the changing rooms.
The changing room smelt damp and the essence of male sweat hung thick in the air like a memory of all the naked men that had used the space over the years. It was as if the stink of male testosterone had been absorbed in to every wall and beam of the building itself.
Anthony looked around and on the floor below the wooden slatted bench where he had gotten dressed he found his phone. Anthony crouched down to retrieve it and noticed as he looked along the bench a sports bag next to a muddy rugby kit. It was the kit and bag that belonged to MR Powell the rugby coach, and Anthony became aware of the sound of rushing water from the shower block.
Curiosity got the better of Anthony as he made his way to the open plan showers and he stopped in his tracks at the shabby open wooden archway from which white paint peeled and cracked. There he witnessed the sight of the coach, his back was to Anthony as the water from the shower head cascaded down over his stocky masculine 6'3" naked frame.
Anthony found himself mesmerized by the manly figure before him. Detailed ink covered the upper right side of his back and down his right arm, a combination of bold black tribal patterns interwoven with brightly coloured dragons.
Anthony watched as MR Powell turned off the flow of water before reaching for his bottle of shower gel on the floor and squeezing a generous amount of soap from the bottle into the palm of his hand. He turned around and began to create a thick lather of white suds over his broad upper chest where the tattoo continued.
The soap dripped down over his chest that had a slight covering of hair, and flowed down his flat stomach to his flaccid uncut man member that swung from side to side with each movement. A coarse tangled nest of chestnut coloured hair sat atop his cock and thinly coated his low hanging ball sack that quickly become covered in the white frothy foam of soap suds.
Anthony took in the glory of MR Powell's manhood and the thick stocky strong thighs that the coach began to rub vigorously with his huge hands. Anthony felt he should not be watching, but he could not pull himself away from the naked vision of Coach Powell as he soaped his body oblivious to his admirer just a few feet away.
The Coach soaped his calf muscles and big feet before his attention went to his soft floppy cock. MR Powell soaped the length of his malleable shaft before tugging back his long thick foreskin and soaping the exposed head beneath. Anthony watched the extra attention paid to this body part that began to clearly react to the man handling.
As MR Powell began to soap his strong arms and shoulders Anthony could see that his cock was jutting out at an angle as soap dripped from the continuing swelling head. The now semi aroused organ bobbed up and down as it continued its transition, and MR Powell began to soap his thick chestnut coloured hair and rugged face with a thick layer of soapy suds causing him to close his eyes tightly against the stinging sensation.
Anthony edged forward as MR Powell stood momentarily blinded and his impressive cock continued to grow, as the Coach turned to fumble for the shower control to turn the water back on Anthony decided it was time to make a quick exit.
Anthony was filled with a rush of excitement and as he was about to leave the main door he made a diversion to the changing rooms. He snatched the coach's tangled jockstrap from the rugby shorts and stuffed them in his bag before making a quick dash for the door.
Anthony arrived home and he immediately went to his room which was like the tiny man island in a vast ocean of femininity. He lived at home with his mother, aunt and three sisters in a house overly filled with chintz, glitter and an abundance of pink. Sweet floral perfumes filled every room with the exception of Anthony's whose remained locked at all times, like the last barrier against all that was feminine.
There in his room he stripped naked before lying on his back upon the unmade bed. Anthony's cock had been rock hard the whole journey home on the bus and as he lay stroking his stiff 6 inch prick he turned and reached for his sports bag and rummaged through it retrieving the jockstrap.
The fabric was still damp to the touch and at first Anthony just held it up and examined it like a treasured prize as he stroked himself picturing the coach to whom it belonged. It was like an intimate part of the Coach there in his hand, that simple piece of fabric that had been stretched over his groin and held tightly in that most private place thereby giving the item of clothing real significance.
Anthony lowered the jockstrap slowly and as he held it just above his nose he took a deep breath in. A strong musky odour immediately filled his nose and he felt a rush as he gripped his tightened fist around the shaft of his erect prick. Anthony pressed the front pouch of the fabric against his face firmly as he inhaled several more times in quick succession, each breath in filled his lungs with a masculine manly intoxicating scent that made him light headed and highly aroused.
With his mouth opened wide Anthony gasped, the remnants of flavour infused in the fabric filtering out on to his lips and tongue. Anthony felt his pecker throb and ache at the experience that felt kind of weird and kinky, but at the same time exhilarating and arousing, that strong man stink that created a natural high and caused his pecker to get so achingly stiff.
"MR Powell" he muttered to himself as he continued to enjoy the moment. Exploring the strong man scents that emanated from the jockstrap and give him a thrill knowing the coach's cock and balls had been cradled right there, held tight and supported as he had sweated just over an hour before.
A small part of Anthony always felt dirty and disgusted at his fetish for worn men's underwear, but the overwhelming sensation was that he was extremely turned on and so long as his dick throbbed rapidly he continued, breathing alternately in deep sharp breaths through his mouth and nose until he felt himself reach orgasm and the most intense ejaculation.
A thick spray of jizz shot up over his bare torso as he groaned and gagged himself with the fabric, pushing the damp material deep in his mouth as another intense eruption followed.
Anthony's body tensed and his back arched off the mattress as he maintained the position, every muscle in his body tightened as he held his breath until he could hold it no more.
Anthony collapsed on the bed removing the jock strap from his mouth and gasping for air, amazed by the pleasure and euphoria he felt flooding through him.
Anthony pulled a large locked metal tool box from under his bed. It was one of a few things he had kept from his Dad, and it was a secure place to store his secret desires.
Inside was an array of men's underwear that he had collected over the years from changing rooms and wash baskets, the owners no doubt oblivious to their location or new purpose.
There was also memory cards filled with images from online and some taken secretly with his phone camera, each image within a folder divided by category. Underwear, Shorts, Cocks, Arses, Armpits, Chests, Workmen, Sportsmen, Sucking, fucking, Kissing and so on, and a hand written black leather bound diary in which he explored his every guilty secret over the years.
A treasure chest filled with fantasies, kept locked and hidden away, and now he pulled a zip lock bag from his draw and tenderly kissed the pouch of the Coach's jockstrap before meticulously folding it and placing it with care inside, sealing in the scent that remained in place so it would not be contaminated by the rest of his collection.
There in the bottom of the tool box he pulled free a shirt that he delicately unfolded and held up. It was a shirt that had belonged to his Dad and the strong scent that had once impregnated the cotton had long since faded, yet Anthony still found comfort in holding it close to his body.
With each day that passed the intensity of the odour of the coach's jock strap dissipated until the masculine scent that once enriched the fabric become no more than a faint memory. Anthony found the act of holding the jock strap against his face still aroused him as he masturbated but it now lacked that kick provided by the masculine stench of the original wearer.
Anthony wore the over sized jock strap for a few days beneath his own underwear and sported a permanent hard on as he went from one class to the next, feeling the fabric rub against him and stimulate him, that thin piece of material that had been worn by MR Powell. It felt like an intimate bond between them that nobody around him would know about apart from Anthony himself.
Anthony had arrived at his next class which was called human health and hygiene but was basically a sex education class. He took a seat at one of few empty desks left which was right at the front of the class and was surprised to see MR Powell covering for the usual teacher.
He was wearing a smart pair of grey trousers that fitted perfectly around his rounded chunky arse and Anthony could make out the lines of his underpants beneath, his light blue shirt pulled taught like the skin on a drum across his broad back and pumped chest as his arms reached up on the chalk board. There were tantalising darker damp patches under the armpits of his shirt that Anthony imagined wedging his nose into, and as he sat listening to each seemingly dirty word from the Coaches lips Anthony felt his dick react. It was shear agony as he felt his woody begin to ache and ooze as MR Powell drew several large diagrams of a penis on the chalk board, from flaccid to fully erect.
In Anthony's mind there was no doubt that the images drawn were an accurate depiction of the coaches own manhood, there on display for the whole class to see. That flaccid hose like member with the tapered nozzle of a foreskin that hung over the tip, and then the various stages of growth until, there huge on the black board, the fully engorged man member, the foreskin gathered up behind the bulbous swollen head.
Anthony watched enthralled as the Coach began to demonstrate the correct way to put a condom on by using a cucumber. MR Powell added lubrication up and down the length of the sheathed vegetable in an erotic fashion which caused much loud laughter, but Anthony found himself silent and crossed his legs on the verge of ejaculating in his pants, or more to the point in the Coach's jock strap, especially when the Coach maintained lengthy eye contact while stroking the cucumber held there, right at his groin.
Anthony squirmed in his seat as he tensed his muscles and held himself back, but his eyes remained fixed and focused on the Coach's large hand as it stoked up and down and twisted from side to side upon the long phallic vegetable, the hair's that coated his wrists where the cuffs of his shirt rose up seeming equally as tantalising and arousing as the performance itself.
At the end of the lesson MR Powell asked Anthony to stay back and Anthony stood nervously at the desk as the last of the students had left the class and closed the door.
"MR Wells you seem a bit distracted" MR Powell stated in his deep stern voice
"No I am fine Sir honest" Anthony replied stuttering as MR Powell stood up from his chair before he began to unbuckle his belt making Anthony glance down briefly
"Well if there is anything on your mind you can speak to me you know that right?"
Anthony glanced down again to see MR Powell tucking his pale blue shirt deep inside his white Y front underpants, his hands lingering inside a little longer than required as they fumbled around beneath the thin white cotton.
"No really, honest I am fine sir" Anthony added after a pause, his gaze drawn down again as the Coach adjusted himself beneath his underpants before he pulled his hands free and zipped his trousers up and done his belt up
"OK, good" MR Powell replied resting his huge hand on Antony's shoulder, the hand he had just adjusted himself with.
At such close proximity Anthony could smell the Coach's body and each breath of musky man scent made his pecker pulsate
"Thanks sir" Anthony said as he felt his cock aching once more at the feel of the Coaches warm firm hand that remained on his shoulder and their eyes met.
It was Anthony that broke eye contact first and MR Powell released his grip and let his hand drop away
"Guess I will see you at Rugby practice Friday then" MR Powell commented as he turned away
"Yes sir, see you Friday" and with that Anthony had hurried from the class to the toilets where he locked himself in a cubicle and jerked off a much needed load.
Once home Anthony had enjoyed the fragrance of his own bodily odours from the Coach's jockstrap as he masturbated, the vivid memory of MR Powell naked in the shower filling his mind along with how he had looked in those smart trousers and that shirt, not to mention those white snug fitting Y fronts. Somehow his own scent seemed a poor substitute for the Coach's distinct strong manly odour but still he managed to shoot a huge load.
Chapter 2: Present day...
Anthony felt his body being pulled up away from the scent of the fragrant jock strap until he was stood face to face with MR Powell. The Coach began to unfasten Anthony's belt before undoing his zipper and crouching down as he dragged Anthony's jeans down to his ankles.
MR Powell paused as he starred at the Jock strap before him
"Is that one of my old jocks?" he asked with a broad smile
"Yeah, I fill it better now than I used to" Anthony replied proudly
the truth was he had kept all of the coach's jocks, socks and other clothing souvenirs and had cherished them all like sacred objects to be worshiped.
Anthony watched as MR Powell edged forward, his eyes opened wide until his nose pressed firm against Anthony's crutch. He felt him take a long deep breath in as his chest filled out until there was no more capacity in his lungs, and then the coach let out an almighty satisfying sigh.
"Oh fuck you smell so fucking good boy" MR Powell groaned before inhaling deeply again.
Anthony may have been 26 but the term boy from MR Powell made him feel good
"I am glad you like it Sir" Anthony responded with added emphasis on the sir as he felt the warmth of the Coach's breath and the moist lips through the fabric, right wear his prick throbbed relentlessly.
MR Powell began to push his nose firm against the jock as his nose moved around like a pig's snout hunting for truffles. Taking in Anthony's musky odours from around and beneath his balls and then back up against the mound of his cock where the fabric was pulled taut, the Coach's thumbs and fingers slipping under the wide elasticised waistband as he began to slide down gently, his mouth opening hungrily over the fabric making a damp patch in the fabric at the head of Anthony's swollen cock.
Anthony felt the pouch of the jock pulling ever tighter against his stiff prick as the Coach pulled the waistband further down until suddenly his member sprung free like a tensioned spring, bouncing free of the tight restriction and coming to full attention in front of MR Powell's gaze, the semi exposed purple head swollen and a large vein protruding along the underside of the shaft with branches of smaller veins spurring from it.
MR Powell pulled the trainers from Anthony's feet before pulling off his jeans and threading the jockstrap through each foot. He held the fabric of the jockstrap to his face, stuffing the pouch into his mouth and sucking free any flavour that might remain ensconced in the fabric. Then he pulled the jock from his mouth through gritted teeth and turned his attention back to the freed cock that remained stood proudly, gazing upon it with wide eyes and an inane grin before burrowing his nose between the two rugby ball shaped bollocks and inhaling deeply, then he opened his mouth wide and took both testicles inside at once.
Anthony gasped and buckled at the knees as he felt his nuts engulfed by the Coaches warm mouth, the sensation as he began to tug down on them both. He felt his cock throb and buck as drops of pre cum began to ooze from his piss slit and Anthony let out a groan as one ball pulled free of the Coaches mouth followed closely by the second.
The Coach moved his mouth and nose up along the rigid under shaft and Anthony could feel the maintained short shallow breaths in through the Coach's nose as he travelled up the span of his erection and paused near the tip, his nostrils hovering at the edge of the foreskin and underside of the head, the warm moist flat of his tongue against the under shaft as he continued to sniff the area with intrigue and excitement. Antony's pre cum began to dribble down until it met the damn of the Coaches nose causing it to build up.
Eventually the Coach moved his nose further up, smearing the pre cum that had flowed down back up the shallow gully of the underside of the head until his mouth reached the very top. Anthony watched as he stuck out his tongue and curled it to lap up the stream of clear juice before opening his mouth wide.
"Oh shit!" Anthony gasped as his legs quivered to the sensation of MR Powell's mouth as it took his full length in one quick motion, his lips now pressing firm at Anthony's nut sack forcing the stiff flesh rod right down his throat.
Anthony whimpered pathetically at the feel of Coach's eager mouth as it remained right down on his erection, the Coach's large hands grabbing at Anthony's buttocks, gripping them firmly as he pulled him close so that every millimetre of rock hard cock was down his throat.
Finally MR Powell pulled away leaving a trail of spit in his wake
"Fuck you taste good too boy" MR Powell commented as he used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth of drawl.
The Coach stood up and grinned as Anthony again dropped to his knees and hooked a thumb under each side of the coach's jock strap, he starred at the throbbing pouch where a droplet of pre cum had filtered through the fabric at the tip of MR Powell's cock head. It glistened like a precious jewel as it captured the overhead light and appeared to grow in volume before his eyes.
Anthony edged forward with his tongue stuck out and captured the jewel on the tip of his tongue, tasting its salty intensity as he closed his eyes and savoured the flavour. Now Anthony opened his eyes and began to pull down on the waistband of the jockstrap
"You want that bad don't you boy?" MR Powell asked
Anthony in truth wanted it bad and had felt denied it for too long, his hands began to tremble with anticipation as he recalled another time in his youth.
At rugby practise Anthony found his focus constantly drawn to the coach's crutch as he visualised him in just his jock strap as he demonstrated a tackle. Anthony had purposefully brought the coach's jock in his bag with the thought that he might get chance to swop it with a freshly worn one.
At the end of Rugby practice MR Powell had asked Anthony to collect up all the equipment while everyone else hit the changing rooms. By the time Anthony had finished he could already see his team mates leaving having showered and changed.
The coach had hung around the changing room as Anthony stripped off his rugby kit but that was nothing unusual, he often stood chatting about the team's performance as the team undressed or dried off.
Anthony had hung his towel on the hook on the opposing wall of the shower block and cursed as he stood under the shower and realised he had left his shower gel in the changing rooms. Anthony grabbed his towel and hurried back dripping water over the tiled floor as he went. As he got to the changing area he witnessed MR Powell stood still dressed in his rugby kit with Anthony's jock strap in his hand holding it firm to his face while his other large hand gripped firmly massaging his groin through his black shorts.
The coach lowered his hand as he instinctively sensed someone's presents and when he realised it was Anthony he scrunched the jock up in his hand and held it behind his back as he began to adjust the obvious bulge in his shorts.
Anthony was unsure what to say so he reached for his bag, his hands shaking as he retrieved his shower gel before holding it up
"I forgot this" Anthony said forcing a nervous smile
"Oh right" the coach replied
Anthony made his way back to the showers a little shocked by what he had witnessed but also strangely aroused by the thought of the coach sniffing the pouch of his jock strap.
Anthony took his time showering and was hoping the coach would join him. He began to soap and stroke his awakening prick as he visualised MR Powell naked beside him. He felt the blood pumping through the arteries and capillaries of his cock, filling out the soft spongy tissue making his shaft firm and rigid to the touch, stimulated by the thought of being caught by the Coach. Anthony felt a feeling of fear mixed with excitement as his clenched fist moved up and down the length of his fully erect penis rapidly like a piston, his eyes closed as he envisioned the Coach walking in on him.
It was not long before Anthony felt the build up of his ejaculation and he kept his eyes tightly closed as his thighs began to quiver. His mouth opened as he groaned lightly and he even dared to whisper the coach's name as his orgasm quickly arose.
Anthony's body jerked sharply as his large volume of pent up jizz spewed out over the tiled floor whilst MR Powell's name remained upon Anthony's breathless lips. The water from the shower flowed over Anthony's still shaking body and began to wash the evidence of his spunk away down the drain.
As he caught his breath and opened his eyes he thought he saw a shadow moving from the archway. Anthony had never questioned the coaches sexuality before then, he was a rugged mans man to whom all the lads looked up too. He often talked about birds, tits, arse and pussy. Was it remotely possible he could be interested in him Anthony wondered
By the time Anthony got back to the changing rooms MR Powell's sports bag was still there but he was nowhere to be seen. Anthony looked down at his rugby kit on the bench and noticed the jockstrap that was neatly lay out on his shorts was not his own and next to that was the coach's long rugby socks, Anthony looked around and stuffed them in his sports bag before drying off and hurriedly getting dressed.
MR Powell was stood outside bare foot in his rugby kit taking a drag on a cigarette
"Have a good evening Sir" Anthony said as he slung his sports bag over his shoulder
"You have a good evening too Anthony, and not too much wanking" MR Powell replied with a wink
Anthony gave a nervous smile in return and looked down to see an impressive bulge down one side of the Coach's shorts as the tip threatened to push free of the leg. Anthony stared for a moment before quickly turning and walking away.
MR Powell was that cool teacher that often made references to masturbation wet dreams and ejaculation in front of the team of lads, so to hear him say wanking was not out of character, yet Anthony began to wonder if the coach had indeed witnessed him masturbating and busting his load.
Anthony had made full use of the Coach's sweaty jock strap and socks to stimulate his fantasies and masturbation. He rolled one of the freshly worn socks down over his erect prick like a thick nylon sheath and wanked off with it as he watched in the mirror. He grabbed the Coach's freshly worn jock strap, placing the straps behind each ear and the pouch over his nose and mouth like he was wearing a dust mask before he inhaled its ripe perfume. His thoughts filled with MR Powell as he said his name allowed and imagined tasting and sniffing his bare flesh in all those stinking places.
The Coach's ball sack, cock, loose hanging foreskin, arse crack, feet and armpits. Every part of MR Powell's body he wanted to explore and investigate with all his senses. Sight, smell, taste and touch.
Anthony groaned loudly as his body contracted and his thick white spunky load filtering through the fabric of the toe of the sock.
Chapter 3: Present Day...
Now as Anthony's thumbs hooked under either side of the waistband he began to drag down the jockstrap, he knew he would soon get to smell and taste that bare flesh that had taunted and teased him. That manly member that had seemed so close yet so out of reach on many occasions was now his for the exploring and Anthony began to salivate at the thought.
He pulled at the fabric and watched the silhouette of cotton as it stretched to the shape of the large throbbing cock beneath until it could take no more of the strain. The erect member came free from the pouch and sprung upwards in all its glory, the thick walled heavily veined cock stood firm and proud, the wrinkled foreskin tip opening pooled with pre cum and offered a glimpse the swollen head beneath.
Anthony got a strong whiff of distinct musky cock odour as it throbbed before his eyes and within a second the large hooded head was in his mouth and the Coach was groaning. Anthony savoured the savoury flavour of cock and the bountiful amounts of salty sticky pre cum that flowed like sap, he explored under the hood with his tongue, pushing under the elasticised flesh and feeling the shape of the head beneath.
Anthony took a deep breath in before he took a purposeful slow journey down the long meaty shaft, delighting in the feel and taste of the raw member as it made its way down his throat.
Anthony rarely gagged but the Coach's length was enough to trigger his throat to retch but he fought back the convulsions and continued, forcing every part of MR Powell's glorious manhood in his mouth.
Anthony's eyes bulged as tears began to well up from the self enforced impaling, his lips now pressed firm at the base of the man sized cock that had been the source of so many fantasies and dreams. He could hear the welcome deep guttural groans that the Coach made as he remained in place with the head of the cock at his tonsils.
Anthony pulled away quickly as he gasped for air and took in the wonder of the glossy saliva sheen that he had left behind, that coated every part of MR Powell's impressive swollen gland. The bell shaped head was fully exposed as the foreskin gathered up behind it and Anthony tongued the underside of the helmet and rotated his tongue around the rim several times feeling it pulsate before pulling the foreskin forward, docking his tongue into the fleshy hood cover as far as the skin would stretch.
Anthony loved that malleable pliable piece of soft flesh that hung so deliciously over the Coach's member when flaccid and also left enough to pull and play with when erect. It had been a constant source of fascination when he had witnessed the Coach naked when younger and he recalled how he had imagined stretching and exploring beneath it even then.
"Let me get my kit off and then we can get that sweet fucking arse of yours in the bedroom" MR Powell said as he rested his hand on Anthony's shoulder
Anthony grinned his approval and stood up as the coach stepped out of his jeans and jock strap before pulling off his t shirt exposing his bare upper torso. Anthony pulled off his own t shirt and watched as MR Powell bent forward and picked up his own jock and offered it to Anthony
"Just like old times" MR Powell commented as Anthony took the jock strap from his hand and held it up to his face giving the damp fabric a deep satisfying sniff before responding
"Not quite like old times" Anthony responded as he leaned forward and kissed MR Powell on the lips. He felt the Coach's mouth open invitingly and opened his own mouth in response, he stuck his tongue out and slipped it within the moist opening, and for the first time tasted the Coaches saliva that had a surprising gentle sweetness to it.
Anthony remembered those old times which were a mixture of fun and frustration, exploring so much with MR Powell yet always yearning for much more. The Coach had been very clear about the boundaries they had to respect, and Anthony knew back then he was already pushing beyond what was socially acceptable behaviour, the intimate moments of openly sharing in their fetish and each putting on open displays of arousal in the process.
At first it had seemed more than Anthony could have hoped for, but as time went by it felt like not enough.
But now as he stood in a naked embrace kissing MR Powell passionately as their rock hard cocks rubbed together he knew he was going to get everything he ever desired.
Anthony showered with the rest of his team mates glancing around occasionally, casually checking out and comparing their equipment but not really that interested. He was far more interested in the manliness the Coach had to offer and these lads, well really they did not compare. Whilst they were a bit of male eye candy it was not the same stimulation he got when he thought of MR Powell naked.
Anthony watched as one by one his team mates left the showers until he was left alone. He could hear the echoed voices of the lads loud banter in the changing room as he soaped his thighs and calf muscles for the fourth time, purposefully taking his time and hanging back in order to get some alone time with the Coach.
Once he was sure enough time had passed he rinsed away the soap suds and fluffed himself a little, keen to make an impression as he entered the changing room. He had it all planned out in his head, the Coach would still be in the changing room as he entered casually, his towel draped over his shoulder as his semi aroused prick jutted out at an angle. He would stand and dry his wet body while facing MR Powell and see if his attention wondered.
As Anthony turned off the flow of water from the shower he gave himself a few more firm tugs ensuring that his pecker protruded just right to catch the eye of the Coach. Then he grabbed his towel and placed it over his shoulder as he heard the last lad saying goodbye to the Coach. He took a deep breath in to his stomach and chest and exhaled slowly through his mouth before heading for the changing room, his naked body dripping water with each step.
Anthony was caught a little off guard as he entered the changing room to see the already bare upper torso of MR Powell as he stood with his back to Anthony and began to remove his black rugby shorts exposing his fuzzy bare arse.
The Coach bent forward as he pulled the shorts through each foot and Anthony took in the vision of the moist hairy valley with a fleshy mound either side. The straps of the jockstrap pulled up perfectly over the side of his glutes and Anthony's attention followed the straps down to where his gaze caught the copse of dark hair that covered the hole.
The Coach remained bent over as he rummaged through his sports bag giving Anthony ample time to get a good look at his crack, and then his head turned and looked around
"Hey, I did not know anyone else was still around" MR Powell exclaimed looking at Anthony as his hand continued to search in his bag
"Sorry Sir" Anthony replied his eyes not deviating from those perfectly round chunky buttocks.
MR Powell stood upright and turned around to face Anthony and his right hand gave his groin a bit of a rub before he stuck a finger up under the cotton pouch and gave the fabric a tug
"I like your ink Sir, what is with the dragons?, I mean do they mean anything?" Anthony asked just wanting to say something in an attempt to overcome his nerves, aware his own prick was still jutting out as he had intended but now feeling self conscious and awkward about the display.
MR Powell looked down at the tattoo that went over his shoulder and down his arm and the fingers of his left hand traced the outline of one of the dragons.
"I read somewhere that the early Christians believed that dragons were symbolic of erotic dreams and sexual desires and fantasies. George killing the Dragon was said to have been symbolic of him overcoming those dreams and desires, kind of sucks right?"
Anthony laughed nervously as he nodded his head, his glance drawn down to where the Coach's fingers now slipped below the frayed waistband of the jockstrap and down into the pouch itself.
"I mean if we can't even have dreams or fantasies what is the fucking point? So these Dragons, well they are my dreams and fantasies, and very much alive" MR Powell added, looking down at his right arm as his left hand began to fondle and grope within the confines of the off white jockstrap.
"Of course we have to be careful on how far we act on some of our fantasies, you have to appreciate there are lines that cannot be crossed for a person in my position"
Anthony gave MR Powell a quizzical look not quiet understanding what he meant
"So you want another for your collection?" the Coach asked as he grabbed the front of the waistband with his right hand and pulled it forward exposing his left hand that was gripping his cock beneath.
Anthony caught a good close look at his thick flaccid hose like member with a loose nozzle of foreskin hanging over the tip
"Sorry sir?" Anthony responded a little surprised
"Another jockstrap to add to the other two you have of mine already" MR Powell stated casually as he began to slide his jockstrap down his stocky muscular thighs before he let it drop down to his feet. The Coach stepped out of the jockstrap and bent forward to pick it up and then held it to his nose and sniffed
"Mm nice full body to that. I have worn it for the last three days during training" MR Powell commented before he offered the jockstrap to Anthony.
Anthony took it feeling the warm fabric against his fingers and glancing down at the cock and balls it had just been peeled from
"Well? Take a whiff of it and make sure it is OK for you"
Anthony held the fabric to his nose and as he inhaled he began to push it firmly in place, the heady manly odours making his cock quickly stiffen.
Anthony gasped, his nose still pressed against the material
"Fuck sir! That smells amazing"
"I can see you like that, certainly getting a reaction down there" MR Powell remarked as he reached down on the bench and picked up Anthony's jockstrap that had been perched on his rugby shorts.
Anthony watched while breathing in as the Coach raised the jockstrap to his face and took in the scent that filled the fibres. Anthony noticed the Coach's cock quickly react to the aroma as it engorged with blood and began to stand erect. Anthony was not sure what was arousing him more, the scent of Coach's jock and seeing his stiffening cock, or seeing Coach sniff his jock whilst looking down at Anthony's own stiff pecker as it bobbed up and down in response.
"Yeah that is good" MR Powell groaned through the fabric as his hand grasped hold of his cock and began to stroke
Anthony followed suit and took hold of his own rigid member, feeling liberated by touching himself so openly. It was usually a private activity, often locked away inside his room, but this, this felt amazing, stroking his rock hard cock whilst MR Powell stroked, both engaging in what had been up till now Anthony's guilty pleasure and very secret fetish.
He watched as the Coach's hand pulled all the way forward so that the layer of foreskin gathered up in a wrinkled coil at front of his fist, then slowly he pulled back on his thick shaft, pulling the foreskin back until the swollen head began to be exposed bit by bit. As his hand reached further down his length the foreskin was pulled taut, and the plum shaped head became fully exposed and a sticky dew drop appeared at the slit.
"Put your underpants on" MR Powell ordered as he momentarily moved the jockstrap pouch away from his mouth
Anthony looked around and grabbed his navy blue briefs and whilst maintaining a grip on the Coach's jockstrap he stepped into his underwear and pulled them up over his stiff dick and turned to see MR Powell stepping into his own white Y fronts underpants.
The Coach's Y fronts sat snug over his erect cock, the thin white cotton pulling tight as his member throbbed against the restriction. Then he watched as MR Powell began to sniff at Anthony's jockstrap again while rubbing his plonker through the fabric with the palm of his hand.
Anthony began to do the same, feeling the heat build up caused by the friction of his hand rubbing against the material. The smell of Coach's pouch pressed against his nose and pushed in his mouth as he moved his palm up and down the length of his shaft and watched the impression the Coach's cock made against the thin white cotton.
"Yeah rub it good lad, build up a good ole cock stink in your underpants for me. Make it smell really good. Rub your fingers between tour legs too, right against your bollocks and further back against asshole" The Coach instructed with a gruff aroused voice
Anthony followed his instructions, first rubbing his bollocks while still pressing the pouch in place over his face, and then bowing his legs so he could reach in between his thighs, his finger lingering at where his hole was and pushing the fabric inside.
"Yeah that is right, turn around and show me"
Anthony turned his back to MR Powell with his hand remaining between his thighs as two fingers pressed the fabric in his crack
"Fuck that is going to smell good when you are done with those. Turn back around and rub your groin and let me show you a treat too"
Anthony turned and watched as the Coach turned his back to Anthony and bent right forward and reached around and began to rub his hairy crack through the fabric. Anthony began to rub frantically at his crutch as he watched one of MR Powell's finger push the fabric until it began to slip inside his asshole.
"Oh yeah" Anthony gasped as he continued to watch the white fabric take on the dampness of the Coach's sweaty crack creating a moist line in the material.
The Coach turned back to face Anthony rubbing fast at his mound as dribbles of pre cum began to filter through the fabric
"You want my load in this pair lad?" MR Powell enquired
"Oh yes please Sir" Anthony replied his voice breathless with excitement as he focused in on MR Powell's crutch
"You going to spunk a load in your for me too lad?"
"Yes Sir" Anthony responded feeling his thighs quiver as the friction built up
"Fuck here it comes lad, I am going to shoot for you, fuck here it comes!" The Coach grimaced as his legs buckled and he gasped loudly. A thick wad of spunk penetrated the fabric and landed on the floor followed by more that created a huge sticky mess upon the front of the Coach's Y fronts.
Anthony watched wide eyed feeling his own imminent load about to burst in his tight blue briefs.
"Fuck yes sir!" Anthony groaned and let loose his own hot juice that he felt fill the pouch and stick over his cock, a thick glutinous white mess that oozed through the dark fabric and coated his cock as he gasped for air.
MR Powell removed his Y fronts and folded them up as his sticky moist cock began to hang down and slowly deflate
"Here you go, when they dry they should be nice and crusty and stink of dried cum" the Coach said offering up his gift to Anthony
Anthony removed his own pair before trying to fold them without spilling the contents and as he took MR Powell's Y fronts he handed over his briefs.
"You must be getting a collection going on now, one jockstrap and a pair of Y fronts in just one day"
Anthony grinned as he still panted from his exertion
"Yes Sir, thank you very much"
"You have many others at home do you?" MR Powell enquired
"Err, a few Sir"
"Yeah me too. We should do this again, if you want to that is"
"I would like that Sir, I would like that a lot" Anthony replied as he looked at the Coach's charming grin as he stood naked and sweaty, the musky odour of their de-spunked balls drifting in the air.