Trophies

"Got a new one for ya buddy," came the message and a simple, private link. I already knew the password, like my buddy Stan did for the ones I sent him. These videos could cost either of us our job, but they were hardly illegal and besides, it turns out both Stan Ruggiero and I had a real exhibitionist streak.

We only discovered the fun of trading vids when I got a job at a university down South four years ago. Ruggiero was a top lacrosse coach at a top lacrosse D-1 program, but the private college we were both coaching at had a middling baseball program, and my career path took me to greener pastures.

Stan and I bonded over our love of college jocks and especially the taboo of fucking our own players. When you're a D-1 coach, you know that you absolutely should not touch any of the guys on your team. You also know it's a crazy hot rush, and addictive. In practice we usually found other jocks - other teams or young men at other colleges. And a hell of a lot of frat-boy substitutes. Ruggiero and I even shared a few of our conquests, together and separately, until I moved away.

I thought that would be that, but we kept in touch, as professionals and buddies. Nothing sexual, until a month later I got a video out of the blue. Stan railing the shit out of some linebacker type in a hotel room. His 42 year old body is leaner than mine but plenty strong and his handsome face a contrast to the dominant leer he had holding on to some beefy, musclebound jock's hips and going to town. He didn't record the whole fuck for me, but it was enough. The message with it read simply, "I may be converting to football jocks, buddy. They're so fucking HUNGRY for it, you know?"

I jerked off big time to that vid, twice in a row, and sent Stan a thank you message telling him how hot it was. And a week later, I sent my friend one of my own. I had just started fucking one of the pitchers, a cute little fucker from Arkansas. A tall dude at 6'5", I'd felt Blake out over my first few weeks and picked up on a definitely down-low vibe. I played the good buddy coach part and now had the jock sneaking over to my place on the occasional weeknight.

That first video was a masterwork. Missionary, animalistic fuck with lots of kissing and Blake's long legs wrapped around my waist as I worked up from a nice slow pump to a hard and fast railing. I made the pitcher cum with a loud, "Coach!" seconds before I dumped my seed deep up in him.

I was excited and nervous both to send it to Stan but I got a thumbs up back and a question. "Yours?"

I knew what he meant. "You know it buddy," I replied.

"Damn, you move fast, Charlie." My name's Charles but Stan always used that nickname with me. "I'm impressed."

I was hard just having this DM conversation with him and loving the way we egged each other on.

* * *

Blake's long graduated now, and I've moved on. Currently without one of my own players to fuck around with, I constantly scoured the strength training room. I couldn't tell if I was planning out my next conquest or just idly fantasizing. Maybe it didn't matter, since my success sometimes happened when I least expected it.

That's when I got the message from Stan. "Got a new one for ya buddy." I knew he was at some regional lacrosse tournament, and I had a good idea he was gonna score. Fucking another school's player wasn't quite the incredible rush fucking your own was, but it was still plenty hot and a hell of a lot safer.

I knew I wanted to savor this one at home, with a nice stroke session. And I wasn't disappointed. Back home, I set up the video to play on my bedroom TV screen. I lubed up my cock and hit play.

There was Stan Ruggiero, that handsome DILF fucker, smiling slyly to the camera as he ran his hands up and down the curved hamstrings of some jock standing up beside him. The young dude was wearing only lacrosse shorts and the kid's rump was something else. My dick spurted out a little pre just seeing the way the mesh fabric draped over it.

Stan stood up, his face out of camera range and I could hear soft kissing before he asked, "You good, buddy?"

Then came a "yeah coach" in a quintessentially college-jock voice. I had no idea if this was one of Stan's boys or if the conquest naturally gravitated toward the pull of sex with a Coach figure. It was inevitably a long-standing fantasy of the players we boned.

I saw Stan's big hand squeeze the rump through the shorts then pat it briefly before sitting back down and facing the camera. With a teasing slowness his fingers gripped the waistband and started pulling the shorts down. Gradually revealing two creamy white, perfectly round buns.

"FUCK!"

That wasn't one of the guys speaking, but me, as I started outright stroking. This was gonna be an epic vid.

I loved the look on Ruggiero's face. Proud fucker, and enjoying the naughtiness of fooling around at the NCAA regionals. He'd occasionally glance over at that prize ass before turning back to the camera.

"Honest to god, Division-I lacrosse jock ass, buddy," he said aloud, running his fingers over the smooth muscle. "Drew's still 19, can you believe? With an ass like that."

I heard a chuckle from out of the frame. Drew, whoever he was, enjoyed being played with and showed off.

"Turn a little buddy," Stan urged and I watched as the kid's boner came into view. Fuck, the jock was enjoying this all right.

And I was enjoying the side view. The kid had probably been doing squats seriously since he was 12, or at least for a long time. And he had some gifted genes, too. I could tell from Stan's grin he knew what he had on his hands. The hottest rear end he'd ever boned. His hands were gripping that glute muscle appreciatively.

"Tell my friend what position you play," he urged is his Coach Friendly tone of voice.

"Goalie," came Drew's reply.

Stan nodded. "What school?"

I sensed a hesitation, then the jock spoke. "Holy Cross."

"Trust me big guy, this video's private. Just for me and my coach buddy."

"That's cool," the jock said.

Stan's gaze was now more on the jock's backside than the camera. "You like being rimmed, buddy?"

"Love it, Coach," came Drew's reply, less hesitant now.

Stan smiled and leaned in, parting those cheeks like pushing away boulders. Then he dove and started feasting on that ass.

"Oh fuck, Coach, lick my hole."

I had to let go of my prick to keep from coming. I leaned back against my pillow and watched one of Ruggiero's legendary rim jobs and let my erection throb upright, untouched, from between my hairy thighs. I had an idea. I set up a tripod with my smartphone. It would record the video and maybe I could send a silent version to Blake, who was working his way through the minors in the Southwest currently. Maybe I'd send it to Stan, too.

I settled back into my position and resumed watching the video. Stan was now lubing that ass, with one finger then two and three. Drew wasn't cherry, I could tell from the kid's reactions and Stan's facial expressions. Still a 19-year-old D-1 jock, a real one, doesn't get his ass tapped all the time, and I knew Stan was gonna get a tight fuck.

"How you want it, big guy?" he finally asked as he dug his fingers in more.

"How bout I sit on it, Coach," the stud asked with adorable need. I had that burly, beefy ex-jock build that ticked a lot of players' fantasies, but Coach Ruggiero was more the DILF-next-door. The lacrosse dad these guys boned for growing up. It was Stan's key to his success scoring.

The man leaned back in his chair now, his 7 and a half inch erection sticking up from his furry taut belly. He was hung big, but not crazy huge. I watched Drew straddle the man's waist and the camera just recorded his back and his meaty arm that reached back to grip Stan's boner and guide it in. Drew was taking it real slow, clearly apprehensive about being filled with a cock that size. The penetration took the longest. A couple of false starts before the discomfort became too much and the jock would have to rise off completely before starting the process again.

Finally, the goalie pressed down harder and several inches of Stan's rigid meat pushed in.

"Fuck, Coach!" the kid gasped.

I couldn't see my friend's expression, but I knew he was excited as fuck. His hands ran up and down the jock's outer thighs, and over his tight obliques.

Stan let his conquest do the work, rising up and down to work more length of DILF dick into his tight ass and maximizing the pleasure of his prostate. It was hot to watch, and Drew's relative inexperience and both men's horniness was palpable on screen.

Finally, Stan gripped the jock's hips and just powered the last couple of inches up into the goalie's hot ass. Those muscle buns flexed at the intrusion, like they were trying to hold in their new master.

"Shit!" I gasped and my dick shot hard, firing several heavy roped of come over my beefy, hairy torso. Blake would enjoy this cum shot for sure.

I caught my breath as I watched the pairing continue on screen. I'd have to watch it again, later, soon. This one was too hot to get all the way through.

Gathering energy, I got up off the bed and stopped the recording of my phone. I went to rinse off and looked in the mirror. My head taking in my 36-year-old body. I wondered when I'd return the favor to Stan. Maybe it would be a senior looking for a fling before graduating. Or maybe I'd luck out with a freshman I could fuck for the next four years. I'd been putting out feelers with a number of my players. I was playing with fire but knew the reward would be mind-blowing.

Stan promised he'd come visit when his season was over and that gave me just a few weeks to line up a new jock for him to sample. Or maybe he'd play wingman and I'd benefit from his suave dad-next-door schtick.

My dick plumped up just thinking about it.

I went back and sent Stan a message telling how much I loved the video.

"Thought you would buddy," he wrote back. "You know, we're overdue to tag team some horny jock."

"We are, man," I replied.

It was a few minutes before the next reply. "I've been nailing one of the midfielders on my team. He's too shy to do a video, but maybe I can convince him to come along when I visit. Would you be up for company?"

My heart pounded. "Fuck yes," I typed back.