It was just last week when I got a text from an old buddy, letting me know our high school was closing down.
When I graduated, I took off from our little three stoplight town and never looked back. I wasn't planning to ever visit again, even though our 20th reunion was coming up.
I clicked the link in my buddy's text, which played a video clip of a news story announcing the closing of Joseph Gage High School.
I was about to X out of it when I saw him.
Holy fuck. Coach Clark.
When I was at Gage High, Coach was a god in my eyes. Tall, with the handsome face of a sitcom dad, and a furry body, with the tiniest dadbod belly.
And damn, he looked amazing on that clip, layers of gray peeking through his full head of dark hair, his bright blue eyes as vivid as ever.
Obsessed is a strong word, but when I was running defense on the Gage football team, I couldn't stop thinking about him when I wasn't on the field. I stole a few of Coach's jocks as, uh, mementos before I graduated.
I was busy as fuck with work, but a persistent thought kept drilling into my head: go see Coach one more time.
I dicked around for a while, didn’t think I was going to do it. But a few days before the final day of classes, I decided to take off work and drive the five hour drive back home.
I arrived just as the students were leaving one last time. I headed straight for Coach's office, and walked in as he was packing a few final trophies into a box.
"Hey, Coach."
He looked over my way, trying to figure out who I was for a second. And then he let loose with a low whistle.
"Fuck, is that Kurt Majors?"
"It's me, Coach. Good to see you."
I expected a handshake, but Coach pulled me into a tight hug. One that lasted for ten.....twenty....thirty seconds.
“Shit, Majors,” Coach rasped. “You really beefed the fuck out.”
“Uh, thanks Coach….I think?”
“You look great, bud,” Coach said, patting me on the back. “Real good.”
“You do too, Coach. You always did look real good.” Shit, I wasn’t even being remotely subtle.
“Wondered why you took off so fast after graduation, Majors. Never got a chance to have a man-to-man talk with you….next thing I knew, you were headed west.”
“Well, Coach….had to get out of town, find someplace where I could make friends….friends more like me.”
Coach was quiet for a few moments before he walked over to his office door and closed it.
He walked back to me, his eyes never leaving mine, and pulled my face to his as his lips met mine. Holy fuck, Coach was kissing me.
He tasted so fucking good.
“I wish you’d talked to me, son. You had a friend right here in town. A good friend.”
Coach’s thumbs found their way to my nipples, already rock hard under my t-shirt.
“‘Course, I should punish you, son.”
I laughed.
“Punish me? For what?”
Coach had a big grin on his face. “For theft. My jockstraps kept disappearing from my office, Majors. You know anything about that?”
I looked down at my shorts.
“No shit, Majors. You wearing one of mine?”
He pulled my shorts down and whistled.
“Fuck, that IS one of mine, isn’t it? You kept it all those years, Majors?”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Wanted to make you proud. Wanted to fill out Coach’s pouch.”
“Look at you,” Coach rasped. “Fillin’ out that jock. That big beefy belly straining at the waistband. Fuck, Majors. You were a big dude then, but you're such a hot big fucker now.”
Coach took a seat at his desk and motioned me over.
I leaned on top of his desk and felt his tongue going inside my hole, tasting me. Holy fuck, my jock dad crush was eating my ass. Moaning, telling me I tasted so fucking good.
The door wasn’t locked, but I didn’t care. I wanted Coach, bad.
Coach opened his clanky metal desk drawer, and I could hear a bottle of lube as he squirted it into his hand.
“Tell me how you want me, Majors.”
“Inside me, coach. Raw.”
“Fuck yeah, buddy,” he whispered, as one finger and then a second pushed inside me.
Coach stood up, his own shorts around his ankles.
“Open up that hole for me, sexy fuckin’ fatboy.”
“I haven’t even gotten to….” I whined as Coach’s flared knob teased my hole.
“We got all weekend, sport. But I’m throwing my first bone inside you right here. Right in this fucking office.”
I couldn’t stop the loud moans as Coach drove his shaft inside me. He had such a huge fucking knob, I could feel every thrust.
I heard footsteps and froze, but Coach didn't seem to be worried.
The door opened, and a short, furry bear of a man - a much younger man than Coach - was on the other side.
“Having fun, babe?” the hot bear said.
“Majors, this is my husband Jack. Jack, this is Majors, the jockstrap thief.”
Coach kept sliding his dick in and out of me, while Jack walked up to me and stuck his tongue in my mouth.
“Does Majors know I’m about to fuck him?” Jack asked, and I shuddered.
“Watch and learn how, Majors,” Coach said.
Jack lubed up his dick and then….started pushing inside of Coach’s hole, not mine. And then he started thrusting into Coach’s hole, and Coach thrusted into me.
“Yeah, Majors. All that beefy jock pussy in one of my old jocks….fuck yeah, fatboy…..taking this hard dad dick in your fucking beefcunt…..tight fucking hole. Wanted to fuck your fucking hot ass forever….”
“C’mon, babe, let's fuck that beefy ass,” I could hear Jack say. “Hammer him. Nut in his hole. Breed him.”
I could feel both Jack and Coach thrusting harder and then Coach moaned and his dick twitched in me, flooding me, breeding me like I’d fantasized for so many years.
I yelled out as my load splashed inside Coach’s pouch, all over Coach’s desk.
Both Coach and Jack untangled from our clusterfuck and stood beside me, rubbing my belly and chest.
“Feel like taking this back to our place for another round, Majors?”
Hell yeah.
“I’m yours all weekend, guys.”
(Maybe there's more to come...?)
