A Marine’s Memory Of Seeing His High School Coaches Get Off

There I was, reading GreenDot’s HOT “Chemistry With Teacher” story with my husband, when I suddenly remembered the first time I SAW two studs engaged in mansex. Up to that point I’d seen my older brothers jacking off - often perving on my studjock oldest brother when he jacked in the shower in the bathroom we shared. I’d also wrestled around in our rooms with a couple of my schoolmates until we’d rubbed ourselves into a frenzy and then jacked together, like horny teenagers do, then awkwardly tried to ignore it . . . until the next time.  But that day, after practice when I was 16, I got my first glimpse during a live, unintended performance. 

Thanks to GreenDot’s hot story for reminding me. As always, thanks so much to Bjorn for keeping up GayDemon for us to read - and post - the stories of horny men and mansex. And I also have to thank my oldest brother - not for all the gallons of my seed I jacked to images of him showering or huffing his still-wet, sweaty jockstraps, but for giving me a cast-off laptop when I was in the Corps, which led me to start journaling on a keyboard instead of in notebooks so that now, in middle age, having converted my original journals to files as well, I could go back and relive that moment of awakening in my teenage naïveté. LOL

As always, your comments and thoughts are always enjoyable and appreciated, either on the GD story or author comments or directly. Hope you enjoy this installment of my (early) life.

BillyC / [email protected]

When I was 16 I was in the locker room very late after practice one Friday. I’d delayed because I came in boned HARD and had made an excuse to my teammates that I needed to hit the restroom to avoid embarrassment at the lockers or in the big, gang showers. I waited them out and came out when they were almost finished dressing to leave, carrying my sweat-soaked jersey in front of me to conceal my bone and rubbing my stomach like I’d been sick. After waiving off any need for help, I sat on the bench in front of my locker and slowly got my things out, waiting the others out until well after they’d all left. I finally got my bag and carried it in front of my still-raging hardon. 

You know what it was like when you were 16 and you got rock hard often for no reason and usually at awkward times. I wasn’t experienced enough or confident enough then to have just jacked it in the stall when I was killing time there. And of course, sitting there, agonizing about my raging hardon’s noticeability only made it rage harder and more persistently. 

As I was finally heading out of the locker room, struggling to look natural with my bag in front of me, I heard some sounds in the coaches’ office down the hall the other direction from the gym building’s exit. Voices, but not talking, sounding a little stressed maybe. I was drawn to find out what was going on.

The office faced a hall, windows with Venetian blinds the top half of the office wall. The blinds were often closed, but being a public school, they were not exactly designer quality to begin with, and they were frightfully uneven and there were gaps. Without really intending to peek, I caught movement inside, and i suddenly made out the words more clearly. Strained - “Fuck, Sal, I want it!” As I focused through the window and a gap in the bent blinds, I saw the young, studly baseball coach unleash his cumload all over the older, burly, hairy football coach’s face while he jacked the younger one’s cum out of him and kicked a monster-sized - but not as big as mine, even at that age - throbbing purple cockhead. 

Coach Farinelli’s spunkload blasted forcefully, and Coach Baker sucked some and also directed Farinelli’s spewing pipe to spray his face and all over his thick-furred barrel chest. He was grinning as he got drenched, and when the torrent slowed, he swallowed the other coach’s man-sized bone until his nose was buried in Farinelli’s thick blond pubes. 

Baker had a firm grip on Farinelli’s huge, blond-downed balls, and he sucked his big fuckpipe until the younger coach squealed and finally forced the older coach off. Baker landed against the ancient metal desk and settled himself back on it, licking his lips and rubbing his thick, stubby hardon. 

For a moment they both laughed and panted. Then I was surprised when Farinelli dove toward the other coach and went straight for his hairy sac. When he sucked in one of the older coach’s heavily- furred balls, Baker threw his head back.

My hard cock ached in my workout shorts, long having escaped my jock strap. It would make for a better story if I’d been rubbing myself or even if I’d taken out my cock, there in the hall, and jacked a spunkload onto the coaches’ office wall. But I was 16 and not yet who I am now, and instead I stood there spellbound and nothing more.

Farinelli went to town on Baker’s balls. He sucked HARD, eliciting spasms and cries and a big paw holding his head firmly in the crotch of the big football jock. He chewed, licked and sucked, all the while Baker jacked his fireplug of a cock in a blur of his right paw and hairy arm. When he finally shouted - “FUCK!” loud, Farinelli in a flash batted Baker’s hand away and swallowed and bobbed on Baker’s cock. “HolymotherFUCK,” Baker yelled, and he seized up and then spasmed. I knew he was unloading in the younger coach’s mouth by the gulps Farinelli’s muscular neck showed. 

I was paralyzed in my awe and wonder. Up to that point it had all been about me getting my nutt. I only knew my brother’s lean baseball jock bod was hot, and his sweat-stinking jocks hotter. Or it felt good to strain and rub against my buds and then jack until we nutted. What I’d just watched took me into a bold new universe of fantasies and clarity about mansex. 

I tuned back in to hear them talking about a barbecue they were having over the weekend and what Farinelli’s girlfriend would be bringing after planning win Baker’s wife. Then I was startled into action when they both got to their feet and clearly were headed to the door to go shower. 

The hallway was long and afforded no cover, other than the big, heavy doors to the gym. I threw myself into motion, propelled myself in that direction and practically dove through the opening. Thankfully one of the doors had still been propped open, or surely the coaches would have heard me. I scrambled to plaster myself against the inside wall out of sight and begged the fates to not let the coaches notice the open door before their shower. 

As I leaned into the wall and heaved and tried to force my breathing to be quiet I realized my leg was wet. I moved my bag aside and looked down. I was horrified - and at the same time intrigued - to see a wet spot the size of Algeria on the front of my practice trunks over my left hip where my cockhead had been. And there were gloves of my gooey spunkload running down my left leg. Jesus Inwas done for if I was caught!

I listened and heard the showers in the distance and the booming, jovial voices of the two men who’d just done what I’d just done but in a far more pleasing manner. I wasn’t caught yet!

And as I ripped my class shirt out of my bag and with crazed purpose wiped my leg and up into my gooey shorts in a frenzy it suddenly dawned on me - THAT was the purpose. Not just getting your nutt, but enjoying another man, enjoying his look, feel, taste and smell and sharing his manly seed. All that jacking with just the need to unload - well YEAH, to unload, but the possibility of so much more fun to it. 

I also realized I was wasting precious time thinking about how much I wanted to sneak back through the locker room to watch the coaches shower. Coach Farinelli’s straining muscles when he came and again when he sucked Coach Baker dry. And Coach Baker’s wiry pelt sprayed with Coach Farinelli’s thick spunktrails. How good it would be to . . . 

JUST GET THE FUCK OUT! my mind finally ordered. I obeyed, but as I was hearing the door I clearly heard the coaches laughing and teasing each other and probably playing grabass. My still raging cock and burning nuts wanted me to go check it out, but sanity won out. 

I got home in record time and threw a very quick - “No thanks, mom,” to her offer of a snack as I raced through and to my bedroom. I know she thought I was sick, because she was at my door as i was stepping into the shower, already jacking my cock. I assured her i was fine, just late at practice and hadn’t showered and wanted to get clean, knowing any mother of a teenage boy is always thrilled on the rare occasions he wants to take a shower and be clean. 

That weekend I jacked my cock about 50 times, until I was too sore to do it any more. And still I did! Every time I thought about Coach Farinelli, but instead of Coach Baker, he was naked with my studly big brother Cain, the pro baseball player, and their muscular bodies were slick with sweat and already shot cumloads.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this memory as much as my sexy husband and I did - we enjoyed it LOADS!

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