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Chapter 32

“Brad!” I yelled, slamming the front door behind me and running upstairs. “BRAD!”

            The door to Mr. Williams’s office opened and Mr. Williams called down from the second story landing. “Ollie, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

            “I- I. . .” I began, not really sure how to answer him. “I just really need to find Brad.”

            “He isn’t home yet. Ollie, what’s going on?” I could tell from his voice that he was getting very concerned.

            “Don’t worry, Mr. Williams. Brad’s fine.” I assured him. “I just really need to talk to him.”

            “Alright.” He nodded, relieved. “I’ll let you know if I hear from him.

            I headed back out to the car again and pulled out my phone, pulling his name up and dialing it for the fifth time.

            The line clicked at the other end. “Sorry brother, you wouldn’t believe the head I’m getting right now.” Brad said on the other line, groaning.

            “BRAD.” I yelled through the phone. “Brad, you need to come home right now.”

            “Sorry Ollie, I’ve got my dick all the way down the tightest throat right now. I’ll be home in half an hour.”

            “For fuck’s sake Brad, Coach Jackson can blow you later. Look, I really, really need to talk to you. Right now.”

            “Uh, it’s not Coach Jackson’s throat I’m using right now, Ollie.”

            “You- what?” I asked, confused.

            “What do you need to talk to me about, Ollie? Trust me, this guy will suck my cock whether I’m on the phone or not.” He took the phone away for a second and I could hear him groan. “That’s it, lick my ass. Fuck, get that tongue in there.”

            “Brad.” I stated, impatiently.

            “Ah fuck, you’re getting my balls and everything.” He said, praising whoever was sucking him off right now.


            “Yeah, all the way. You already got two loads from me this afternoon, you’re gonna have to work for it if you want a third. Yeah, eat my ass a little.”


            “Shit, sorry Ollie, I got distracted for a second. You wouldn’t blame me if this guy was working on your cock right now like he is on mine.”

            “Brad, listen to me. Jason Foster knows about you and Coach. He flat-out asked me if you were fucking Coach Jackson.”

            There was complete silence on the other end of the line. I had no idea what my host-brother was thinking. His relationship with Coach Jackson was already complicated enough, and now that someone knew about them, I couldn’t imagine how my host-brother would react. This was bad. This was really bad.

            I listened for some sort of emotion to register in Brad’s voice.

            “Heh.” He said into the phone.

Heh. Heh? It was as if we were sitting on the couch and I had just read him some useless trivia fact off my popsicle stick. Not the fact that I had just informed him that an ex-fuck buddy of his had figured out that he was sleeping with our seemingly straight football coach who would surely lose his job over something like this.


            “Yeah, Ollie?”

            “Brad, listen. Everything is going to be okay. We’re going to figure this out.”

            “Ollie, why are you freaking out about this?”

            “What do you mean why am I freaking out about this? Jason Foster knows about you and Coach.”

            “Yeah, so?”

            I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “So why aren’t you freaking out about this?”

            “What’s there to freak out about, Ollie? He’s right. I am fucking Coach Jackson. A lot. Fuck, if I wasn’t fucking this dude right now I’d be fucking Coach Jackson instead.”

            “Brad, but this is Jason Foster.”

            “You think I care what that delusional, power-bottom starter husband thinks?” He took the phone away again. “Fuck, you’re gonna make sure you get that third load out of me whether I’m ready or not, aren’t you, you cum-hungry pig?”

            He brought the phone back to his ear. “You know what Ollie? Why don’t I show you just why exactly I’m not really sweating what he thinks about who I’m fucking. There’s something I think you should see.”

            “Brad, what are you talking-“

            “Meet me in the parking garage at Foster Electronics.”


            As I made my way across town I tried to think of every single possibility that could be the reason my confident, over-sexed host-brother wanted me to meet him in the parking garage of Foster Electronics while he got his dick sucked.

            He couldn’t be. The guy was one of the most powerful men in the state of California. Not even Brad Williams would try and fuck a guy like Greg Foster.

            Or would he? It was just like Brad to go after a guy like that, despite how delusional he would have to be to think that he had a shot at turning some hot-shot CEO executive like Greg Foster. Although if there was any 18-year old who could, it was Brad Williams.

            When I pulled into the parking garage, the entire basement floor was abandoned except for Brad’s car parked alongside a luxury sports car just like Jason’s.

            I could just distinguish two figures making out in the front seat before I pulled in right next to them.

            Yeah. . . Brad was fucking Greg Foster alright. Or at least making out with him in parking garages, if temporary circumstances were any indication.

            As I approached, the wealthy business man pried his lips away from Brad and sat back in the driver’s seat, straightening out his tie, a guilty expression on his face.

            I heard the door unlock and Brad reached behind his seat to open it for me.

            “How nice of you to join us, Ollie.” Brad said with a glib tone. “You remember Mr. Foster of course.”

            Mr. Foster couldn’t look me in the eye, but his hand was slowly jacking off Brad’s cock as he looked down, like he couldn’t stop himself.

            “Don’t worry Mr. F.” Brad said to him, patting the man on the back. “Your secret’s safe with Ollie. You’d be surprised just who Ollie’s been fucking, but he’s good at keeping secrets.”

            The handsome, distinguished man seemed to ease up a little and finally looked me in the eye, his eyes wandering from my face down to my crotch.

            “I hope you don’t mind.” Brad said, working his hand into Mr. Foster’s shirt and pulling on his nipple. “But when I manage to pull in a stud like you and get them to put out for me I always like to share it with my brother here.” He nodded to me. “It’s kind of our thing.”

            I watched as Brad continued to work this elite business man over, physically and mentally. I had to admit, it was absolutely entrancing to watch him at work.

            “How’d you like to get your throat used by his big black cock while I’m using your cunt, Mr. F?”

            Greg Foster’s cock gave a visible jerk in his pants.

            “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you Mr. F?”

            The handsome man nodded, his eyes going down to my crotch again. Not even 15 minutes ago, I had been 10 inches up his son’s ass and I was already getting hard again.

            “Tell you what.” Brad said, working his hand down from the poor man’s nipple until he reached into the man’s briefs and started playing with his cock. Mr. Foster jumped at the touch, his eyes glazing over. “What do you say you take Ollie and I up to your office.” He leaned in and kissed up the man’s neck, slowly, running his other hand up his leg. “We’ll lay you down on that big desk of yours and you’ll lift these legs up like a good cockslut while my brother here and I take turns on that tight dadpussy of yours.”

            Mr. Foster whimpered audibly.

            “How does that sound, Mr. F?” Brad whispered, biting his ear gently.

            Fuck, I was hard. From the moment Brad and I started fucking Jason last fall I’d always stared a little too long at the handsome business man the couple of times he opened the door when we came knocking. He’d send us up to his son’s room thinking we were there to study and not taking turns tag-teaming his son until the three of us had blown enough loads to feel satisfied for the day.


            “You ever given this pussy up in your office before, Mr. F?” Brad asked, running his hand along the man’s taint through his designer slacks.

            “Nuh uh.” Mr. Foster shook his head, almost in a trance at the attention he was getting from the town superstar quarterback.

            “You ever taken a big black cock before, Mr. F?” Brad asked him, grabbing Mr. Foster’s hand and putting it on my crotch.

            He shook his head again.

            Brad leaned his head back and kissed me, thrusting his tongue in my mouth, causing the man to inhale deeply. Fuck, I could make out with Brad Williams for the rest of my life and still never get tired of those perfect lips of his. “What do you say? You going to be a good slut and put out for us, Mr. F?” He asked, in between jabs of his tongue in my mouth.

            “Uh huh. . . “ Mr. Foster nodded, completely engrossed in the show we were putting on for him.

            Brad pulled back from me with a grin. “Then by all means, lead the way.” He gestured, unlocking the door.

            Greg Foster looked back at me, nervously but excitedly.

            “Oh.” Brad said, reaching over and grabbing the tube of lube and stuffing it into the man’s shirt pocket. “Guess we’ll be needing more of this for what we’re going to be doing, huh?”



            Greg Foster nervously swiped his key card in the elevator to take us up to his office, pulling at the collar on his neck, anxiously.


The second the elevator doors opened up he took a deep breath to pull himself together.

            “Mr. Foster, sir!” The receptionist said, rapidly typing as she watched us walk through to his office. “Sir, I have China on the line and Germany on hold. They say it’s important.”

            “Hold my calls, Sheryl.” He waved her off, swiping his key card in the door and pulling it open.

            “Mr. Foster, sir, they’ve been on the line since you left this afternoon.” She replied, watching him lead us into his office with a confused look on her face.

            “They can wait.” He mumbled, the door closing behind us.

            The second the door closed, Brad unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out. “Suck my cock.”

            Instantly the man was on his knees, not wasting a second to wrap his lips around that jock cock. Just like that, the alpha executive CEO was gone and the cock-hungry submissive man was back.

            Brad leaned his head back as he got his cock sucked by this handsome executive. He met my gaze and nodded his head, gesturing me to come over.

            I approached him and he reached his hand out to guide my head down to him, kissing me, letting his tongue roam around my mouth.

            He pulled back for a second. “Getting my cock sucked while making out with my best friend. My equal.” He said, grinning. “It doesn’t get much better than that.

            And with that he went back in to kiss me again.

            I don’t know how long he and I locked tongues for, I just know I didn’t want it to end. I heard Mr. Foster groan audibly and Brad pulled back again.

            “Watch this, brother.” He said, nodding to Mr. Foster. He grabbed the man’s head and held it in place as he fucked in and out of his throat, getting increasingly more rough.

            Mr. Foster’s hands were inside his shirt, pulling at his nipples while he let the town superstar quarterback use his throat to get off. Mr. Foster’s moans became more urgent and he started pulling even harder at his pecs, the sound of Brad thrusting in and out of his throat getting louder and louder.

            “Not yet, Mr. F.” Brad shook his head, with a smirk.

            Mr. Foster, whimpered and closed his eyes, as if he was willing himself not to do something.

            “Not yet. . . “ Brad said again, really thrusting in and out of him. “Aw fuck, alright, Ollie, look at his cock.”

            I looked down and Greg Foster’s cock was impossibly hard. There was sap dripping all down his shaft and onto the carpet below him and it seemed to be bobbing up and down on its own, completely untouched.

            “Hold it, Mr. F.” Brad told him, closing his eyes and preparing for his own climax.

            Mr. Foster groaned urgently and shifted around, almost uncontrollably as Brad planted his cock as deep as it would possibly go down the poor man’s throat.

            “Fuck!” Brad shouted, pulling him down completely on his cock. “Do it, Mr. F!”

            Amazingly, the second the words escaped his mouth, Greg Foster’s cock jerked up on its own and started shooting all over the carpet, completely untouched.

            “Aw fuck!” Brad groaned, shooting down his throat, his balls jumping. “Shit, that’s my fourth one this afternoon.” He groaned, gritting his teeth as he held the man’s face in place.

            Greg Foster eagerly swallowed as fast as his throat would let him. His cock was still bobbing up and down on its own, the last of his cum dripping from his dick as he swallowed.

            Brad opened is eyes again and slowly pulled out, letting his dick slide along the man’s lips as he cooled off. “Have you ever seen anything like that in your fucking life, brother?” He asked me, wiping his brow. “It’s like the guy’s got a clit in the back of his throat.”


            Mr. Foster looked down at the floor, blushing.

            “I’ll tell you what though.” Brad said, stepping back to sit down on the top of the desk. “It’s his cunt that you’ve gotta try out.”

            My own cock throbbed at the thought.

            “What do you say, Mr. F?” Brad asked, leaning back. “Are you gonna put out for Ollie like a good cockslut?”

            “Yes. Please.” Mr. Foster nodded, reaching for the lube and slicking up his hole.

            “Have at it, Ollie. I want you to enjoy it.” Brad grinned, putting his hands behind his head and getting comfortable.

            Before I knew it, I had kicked off my pants and was already stroking my big black cock as I watched the handsome business man in front of me, lay down on his back and lift his legs for me.

            “How bad do you want him to give you that big black cock, Mr. F?” Brad asked him from his desk.

            “I want it.” Mr. Foster nodded, his cock jumping as he said it.

            “How bad?” Brad asked, absentmindedly playing with his cock as he watched the two of us.

            “I need it.” Mr. Foster whined, brining his finger to his hole and sticking it in, with a moan.

            “Fuck, this guy is unbelievable.” Brad mumbled in amazement. “You gonna let him shoot inside you, Mr. F?”

            “Uh huh.” He nodded, eagerly.

            “Good.” Brad replied with a grin. “Because after he’s through with you I’m gonna slide in right after him. I love fucking a used mancunt after Ollie’s been in it.”

            I couldn’t believe how rock hard I was. I tapped my cock against Mr. Foster’s hole and he breathed in and out in excitement.

            I lined the head up with his opening and slowly pressed forward, causing the handsome business man to emit a deep groan.

            “That’s it, Mr. F. Let him in.” Brad encouraged him from his desk. He looked back to me. “Tell that’s not that tightest dadpussy you’ve ever had, brother.”

            I had to admit, it was good. Mr. Foster was soft and velvety in just the right places, gripping my shaft hungrily as I sank more of my big, black dick up his ass.

            “Go ahead, Mr. F. Play with yourself while he fucks you.”

            Mr. Foster brought his hand to his cock, which hadn’t gone down one bit since his last orgasm, and began to stroke it slowly as he focused on opening up for me.

            “Fuck, this is so hot.” Brad said, stroking his cock as he watched us.

            I began to pick up the pace, getting lost in the warm, velvety sensation Mr. Foster was giving me.

            “Fuck, look at his eyes rolling into the back of his head, Ollie.”

            I looked down and Mr. Foster had a look of pure ecstasy on his handsome face.

            “He’s getting off on your black cock like crazy, brother.”

            I started to fuck him harder and really enjoy this. Even though I had blown two loads with Jason earlier this afternoon, I was already getting close to shooting again.

            “You want him to fill you up, Mr. F?”

            “Mmhmm.” Mr. Foster whimpered, stroking his cock as I fucked him.

            “Oh he’s going to.” Brad nodded, watching us intently. “You want to know why I love fucking someone right after Ollie’s had them first? Because he shoots so fucking much.”

            “Oh fuck. . .” Mr. Foster moaned, increasing his speed on his poor, flared cockhead.

            “It makes it so smooth and slick when I get in there.” Brad continued, matching the man’s strokes on his own cock.

            “Oh fuck. . .” I groaned this time, feeling myself reach closer and closer to the edge.

            “Go on, Ollie. Knock him up.” Brad nodded.

            “Please. .  .” Mr. Foster groaned, looking up at me as he stroked himself.

            “Oh fuck I’m cumming!” I yelled, holding his legs in place as I started shooting, completely overwhelmed by how great I felt.

            “Do it Ollie. He wants your load so fucking bad.”

            “UUUGH!” Mr. Foster grunted, shooting all over his dress shirt and tie as he jacked himself off, his hole constricting tightly around my cock as I continued to drain inside of him.

            “Oh shit, move over Ollie.” Brad said, getting off the desk and rushing over to us.

            I snapped back to reality and pulled out just in time, with Brad quickly replacing me and easily sinking into him, eased by the slickness of entry I had left him.

            I listened as the sound of Brad sinking in and out of this handsome CEO’s sloppy mancunt, hearing him fuck him harder and harder.

            I watched as the base of his cock jumped, shooting inside of the man I had just vacated seconds ago.

            “God, that’s so fucking good. . . “ Brad muttered, hanging his head down as his orgasm pulsed through him, his toes curling.

            He reached down and patted the man on the back. “Thanks Mr. F.”

            “Any time, Brad Williams.” The man panted, exhausted. “Seriously. Any time.”

            “This guy here is my brother.” Brad said, patting me on the shoulder. “The same that goes for me goes for him, too. He says the word and you put out for him, got it?”

            “Of course.” Mr. Foster nodded eagerly.

            “You know, I think Mr. F. here deserves a reward for how well he took care of us, what do you think Ollie?”

            “Yeah. . .” I replied, curious where this was going.

            “Throw me your jockstrap.” Brad told me, holding up his hand to catch it.

            I tossed it over to him, laughing.

            “You don’t know how big this dude gets off on this shit, brother.” He caught it and balled it up with his own, and then proceeded to mop up all the cum the three of us had shot all over this office from the past hour. “There you go, Mr. F.” Brad grinned, tossing them over to Mr. Foster.

            “Thank you. . .” He smiled, appreciatively.

            “You want to tell him why you like my jockstraps so much?”

            Mr. Foster blushed instantly. “I- I use them. . .”

            “Aw come on, don’t be shy Mr. F, you’ve got the guy’s cum still dripping out of your cunt. Go on.”

            Mr. Foster hung his head down, embarrassed.

            “The dude’s got the biggest dildo that would fit in his bedside table and he sits on it while he straps my dirty jocks to his face and gets himself off just from the smell of me.” Brad answered for him.

            Mr. Foster absentmindedly played with his cock as he listened to what Brad was saying.

            “Anyway, thanks for another fantastic lay, Mr. F. You ready to head out, brother?”

            “Thank you, sir.” I nodded to Mr. Foster, as we finished getting dressed and headed toward the door.

            “Sir. . .” Brad smirked, laughing. “Never change, Ollie.” He looked back at Mr. Foster, who had his head back, inhaling the aroma of the used jockstraps he had over his face. “I’ll tell your secretary you’ll be ready in two minutes? Chop chop!”

            Mr. Foster panicked and immediately started to throw his clothes back on.

            “There we go.” Brad laughed. “Can’t let too much pleasure get in the way of business can we, Mr. F? You’ve got a company to run!”

            And with that, we were out the door. Say what you will about going on an adventure with Brad Williams. . . The guy sure knows how to make a Tuesday afternoon interesting.


                                                       Chapter 33


            Dan Jackson parked his car at the curb and marched up to the Williams’s front door, ringing the doorbell and tapping his foot.

            “Hey Dan, how’s it going?” Mike Williams greeted him, gesturing for him to come in.

            “Hey Mike, just fine, thanks.” Coach Jackson replied, stepping in and sitting down on the sofa. “Any idea where that asshole kid of yours is?  He’s not picking up.” He threw his phone down on the coffee table with a sigh.

            “Sorry, Dan. No clue. Ollie’s not home either so they must be getting into trouble together.”

            “Couldn’t possibly make it any easier for this kid to get laid. . .” Coach Jackson muttered, adjusting his crotch, frustrated. “And he still manages to fuck himself out of a good thing.”

            “Trouble in paradise?” Mr. Williams laughed, sitting down.

            “Nah, it’s nothing, Mike, don’t worry.” Coach Jackson sighed. “It’s just I’ve gotten accustomed to getting laid around the fucking clock these past few months and for once I actually need to blow a load and that asshole kid of yours isn’t around to get me off.”

            “I see your predicament.” Mr. Williams chuckled.

            “Don’t get me wrong, Mike, at first I was grateful that horny kid of yours was leaving me alone. I mean Christ, with Williams it’s either video games or pussy on his mind and I don’t think he’s touched that fucking X-Box since Christmas.”

            “He’s an 18 year-old, Dan. Can you really blame him?”

            “Fuck no, you don’t think I wasn’t out doing the same thing when I was his age? With his looks and cocksure attitude I’m surprised he even manages to get shit done at all.”

            “Yeah, I guess Ollie is a good influence on him.”

            “You kidding, Mike? With all the trouble that kid of yours could be getting himself into, Ollie’s a fucking saint.”

            “Yeah, I guess he is.” Mr. Williams laughed.

            “Hey, don’t act like you and me are in the same boat here, bud.” Coach Jackson chided him. “I know you’re still getting it every night. I’m the one with blueballs here, not you.” He grabbed his crotch, frustrated.

            “I guess I do okay. . .” Mr. Williams gloated, sitting back and smiling.

            Coach Jackson’s eyes roamed down his buddy’s shirt until they reached his groin.

            “Hey uh. . .” Coach Jackson mumbled, a grin spreading on his face. “You remember how fun it was that time I through you against the wall at the lake house and fucked your brains out?”

            Mr. Williams’s handsome face broke out into a grin. “I think I’ve got a pleasant recollection, yeah.”

            Coach Jackson’s hand wandered down into his wind-shorts, playing with his cock. “You feel like giving it up for your bud again, Mike?”

            “I think I could be convinced. . .” Mike replied, starting to unbutton his shirt.

            “Fuckin’ knew it, Mike.” Coach Jackson grinned. “You just want another ride on this thing, don’t ya?” He grabbed his sizable erection through his shorts.

            Mr. Williams rolled his eyes, laughing as he scooted over on the couch so they were right next to each other.  “You know, Dan, I really don’t know what my son sees in you.”

            Coach Jackson threw off his shirt, his perfectly chiseled abs and his stone-hard pecs out in the open.


            “Okay, I’m beginning to see it now.” Mr. Williams laughed, reaching over and copping a feel at the giant man’s perfectly toned body.

            “When the kids are away, the men will play. . .” Coach Jackson mused, leaning in to kiss him.


“Fuck, it’s kinda nice isn’t it?” Coach Jackson said, pulling back for a moment.

            “What, Dan?”

            “Making out with a dude your age.”

            “Yeah, I guess it is.” Mr. Williams grinned, pressing their lips together once again.

            Coach Jackson reached his mighty arm around and grabbed onto his buddy’s ass and gave it a good squeeze as their tongues wrestled each other.

            “It’s about time you let me have some quality time with this ass again, Mike. You’ve been holding out on me, bud.”

            Mr. Williams unbuckled his slacks and pushed them down his legs, handing the burly man underneath him the lube.

            Coach Jackson lubed him up and stroked his cock as they made out.

            “You gotta promise me one thing, though.” He said, breaking away for a second.

            “What’s that, Dan?”

            “You gotta promise you’ll try to not fall in love with me.” He deadpanned.

            “Christ Dan.” Mr. Williams shook his head, laughing. “That’s such a douchey fucking thing to say.”

            “Aw, and I was so close to sealing the deal!” Coach Jackson laughed, pulling at his lip with his. “Don’t tell me you’re going to prude out on me now.”

            Mr. Williams reached back and guided the giant cock to his opening. “No wonder you and my son are fighting all the time.”

            “Yeah, I guess I can’t blame the kid for all of it.” Coach Jackson laughed. “I can sure blame him for a whole fucking lot of it, though.”

            Mr. Williams sat back on the first few inches before stopping, having to get adjusted to the thickness.

            “Fuck, I forgot how hung you are, Dan.”

            “I bet you say that to all the guys, Mike.” Coach Jackson laughed.

            “Christ, it’s like sitting on a traffic cone.” Mr. Williams groaned, trying to open up for the incredibly thick slab of meat currently pushing its way up his hole.

            “Shit, you’re tight, Mike.” Coach Jackson moaned, throwing his head back. “You’re telling me Africa gets this hole every fucking night?”

            “You bet he does.”

            “Lucky bastard.” Coach Jackson smirked, guiding his buddy’s head down to kiss him. “You know, we should really do this more often, Mike.”

            “I’m throwing you a bone once and here you are inviting yourself back in again.” Mr. Williams laughed, still struggling to accommodate how thick this giant man’s cock was.

            “Pretty sure I’m the one throwing the bone here, bud.” Coach Jackson quipped.

            “Seriously, Dan?” Mr. Williams scowled, unimpressed at the obvious joke.

            “Yeah yeah, Williams doesn’t appreciate my jokes either. I guess his shitty sense of humor runs in the family.”

            “You know, Dan- UGH-“ He grunted as he sank down on a few more incredibly thick inches of cock. “I officially don’t feel sorry for you anymore when it comes to my son. You just can’t help but pick a fight when you’re fucking, can you?” Mr. Williams grinned, kissing him.

            “Nah, I can handle my own, bud, don’t worry about me. Besides, Williams likes a little back-talk when he’s fucking me. Hell, he fuckin’ loves it.”

            “UGH! Easy Dan!” Mr. Williams grimaced as a few more thick inches of cock impaled itself up his hole.

            “Sorry Mike, just a little eager I guess.”

            “Want to fuck me on my back?”

            “Sure, bud.” Coach Jackson replied, easily picking him up and throwing him back down on the couch and crouching over him.

            “Shit, getting a little rough there, Dan?” Mr. Williams laughed.

            “Ah, you can take it, Mike.” Coach Jackson grinned, leaning down to kiss him as he lined his thick cockhead up with his hole.

            “Fuuuuck, that’s good.” Mr. Williams groaned as he was filled up again, this time the angle working with him instead of against him.

            “There we go, bud.” Coach Jackson nodded, running his hands under Mike’s shirt to feel his body. “I knew after you quit your bitching I’d make you feel good.”

            “Ass.” Mr. Williams laughed, reaching around to grab the giant man’s meaty cheeks and pulling him in closer.

            “Hey, I’m not gonna write you a fuckin’ poem and tell you how pretty you are, Mike. Hell, you’ve got Africa for that shit. Now if you’re looking for a good fuck that’s gonna get you off, I’m your guy..”

            Mr. Williams jacked himself off with the thrusts Dan Jackson made inside of him, starting to groan with each jab he felt on his prostate.

            Coach Jackson started to quicken his pace, getting into it. “Sorry Mike, I haven’t gotten any in days. This isn’t going to be a long session, bud.”

            “Fuck, you’ve got me close too, Dan. Go for it.”

            “You got it.”

            Their lips met and they started making out with each other hungrily as they pushed themselves into their own climaxes, the friction of Mike’s hairy torso on Dan’s smooth pecs feeling intoxicating on their skin.

            “Gonna blow, Mike.” Coach Jackson huffed, prying his mouth off of Mike Williams’s as he felt his balls drawing in.

            “Me too, Dan. Fuck, right there.”

            “GAAHHH!!” Coach Jackson bellowed as he starting shooting, wrapping his arms around him as he climaxed.

            “FUCK!!” Mike yelled as Coach Jackson pounded the load right out of him, jacking away at his prick as he got fucked.

            They continued their pace as they each road out their orgasms, in complete ecstasy with one another. When the last of his sperm had finally dribbled out of him, Coach Jackson hung his head down and thrust his tongue into his buddy’s mouth, giving him a good, satisfied clap on the shoulder.

            “Thanks, bud. I really needed that.”

            “No problem, Dan.” Mike sighed, leaning his head back.

            “Guess Africa’s gonna be in for a surprise when he feels this later tonight.” Coach Jackson grinned proudly as he pulled out and watched his load slowly starting to leak out of Mike’s hole. “Be sure and tell him I was more than happy getting you all warmed up for him.”

            “Alright, Dan, I hate to throw you out but I have to get back to work.”

            “Well damn, Mike, I feel so used.” Coach Jackson grinned, grabbing his shirt to cover himself, theatrically.

            Mr. Williams just laughed to himself, pulling his shirt back on and buttoning it up.

            “Hey, I really mean it, Mike. Thanks.” Coach Jackson smiled, patting him on the back. “This was great. Really great.”

            “Yeah, I guess it was, Dan.”

            “And hey, if Williams and I ever get hitched at least I know I can count on my good ‘ole father in-law for some ass if I’m ever itching for it.” He smirked.

            “You can keep going back to that same well all you want, Dan, but it’s never going to be as funny as you think it is.” Mr. Williams shook his head, grinning. “I’m only a few years older than you for Christ’s sake.”

            “Ah, agree to disagree, bud.” Coach Jackson smiled, pulling his t-shirt over his head. “Shit, remember us back in high school? Who the hell would have ever guessed you and I would be here?”

            “What, us fucking or being friends?”

            “Both, I guess.”

            “Before my son joined your team I didn’t even think you remembered me in high school, Dan.”

            “I remember you here and there.” Coach Jackson smiled, thinking back. “Shy. Quiet. Always with your nose in a book.”

            “Yeah, I guess you and I didn’t exactly run in the same social circles, did we Dan?”

            “Yeah, I guess I was kind of a meathead back then, wasn’t I?”

            “Was?” Mr. Williams laughed, punching him playfully on the shoulder.

            “Alright I’ll let you have that one.” Coach Jackson laughed.  “I do remember one thing about you, though.”


            “You always had that one chick hanging around you, though. Shit, she was one of the hottest chicks in school. What was her name?”

            “Marissa Heisman.” Mike blushed. “I couldn’t believe she even paid attention to me, much less went out with me.”

            “Yeah, well I’m betting this big thing had something to do with it.” Coach Jackson laughed, patting the sizable mound in his buddy’s pants. “Shit, and look where we are now.”

            “It is pretty crazy.” Mr. Williams sighed.

            “What, us fucking or being friends?” Coach Jackson quipped, going back to the same question again.

            “Both, I guess.” Mr. Williams laughed. “You know, Dan, I always wanted to tell you something.”

“Yeah, bud?”

“Those other guys on the team with you. . . A good number of them spent a lot of time trying to make my life hell. But you were never like that.” Mike said, shrugging. “There was even that one time you clocked one of your buddies on the head and told him to knock it off. And he never bothered me again. I don’t know. . . I just- I always wanted to thank you for that.”

“Shit, Mike, I didn’t think you remembered that.” Coach Jackson blushed, scratching his head.

“Well I did. And I do. I thought that was really big of you.”

“Ah fuck, bud, you’re trying to break me down, aren’t you?”

“Don’t worry, Dan.” Mr. Williams threw his hands up. “The heart-to-heart’s over. I just wanted to thank you for that and let you know I always remembered it.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that, Mike. It was the right thing to do.”

“You know what the funny thing is?”

“What’s that, Mike?”

“With Brad, even before. . . all this with you two started, he always reminded me of someone. It took me a while to figure out who. But you know, big football hot-shot. Sensitive whether he wants to admit it or not. Just an all-around good guy.”

“Ah, now you’re just trying to wear me down, bud.” Coach Jackson mumbled, patting over his heart, with a smile.

“I just see so much of you in my son.” Mr. Williams smiled genuinely. “Mostly good parts.” He laughed. “I’m glad he has you, Dan.” 

“I really appreciate that, Mike.” Coach Jackson blushed. “You raised a good kid, you know that?” He patted him on the shoulder. “He’s a real fucking pain in my ass sometimes, but he’s a good kid.”

At that moment they heard the front door slam as Brad and I walked in.

“Well speak of the fuckin’ devil.” Coach Jackson smirked, looking us over.

“Oh, hey Coach.” Brad waved casually, walking by to grab himself a soda from the fridge.

“Hey Coach?” Coach Jackson mimicked him, rhetorically. “I must have called you twenty fucking times this afternoon, Williams.”

“Sorry. Got busy.” Brad shrugged, taking a big chug.

“Yeah, well I hope you know I just got done fucking your old man’s brains out.” Coach Jackson replied, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Cool.” Brad shrugged again, clearly unphased.

“Cool?” Coach Jackson mimicked him again.

“Yeah, cool.” Brad replied. “Ollie and I just got done tag-teaming one of my regulars. It’s all good, Coach.”

Coach Jackson crossed his arms, rolling his eyes.

“Besides.” Brad continued, taking his soda and sitting down on the couch beside them. “I think it’s great you two found a comfort in each other in your old age. Get it while you still can, huh?”

“Oh fuck off Williams.” Coach Jackson scoffed.

            “Uh yeah, why am I getting lumped into this scenario?” Mr. Williams laughed.

            “You’re right, Dad, I take it back. Sorry.” He turned to Coach Jackson. “Coach? I take back nothing.”

            “Prick. . .” Coach Jackson laughed. “Alright fellas, I’m out. Got shit to do.”

            “See you, Coach.” I waved at him, taking his spot on the couch next to Mr. Williams and leaning against him.

            “Later Dan.” Mr. Williams waved.

            Coach Jackson turned back to us as he got to the front door. “Williams, from now on when I call you, you fucking answer. Are we clear?”

            “Yes sir.” Brad nodded.

            “Good. . .” Coach Jackson muttered, opening the door. “Thanks again for another good lay, Mike.”

            “You got it, Dan.”

            “Oh, and Williams?” Coach Jackson turned back to face us again, stopping halfway out the door.

            “Yeah, Coach?”


“I’ll be seeing you bright and early tomorrow morning running laps before school. Make you think twice about not helping me out when I need to get fucked.”

            Brad slammed his soda down on the coffee table. “The fuck you will, Coach.” He shook his head, defiantly.

            “Like it or not, Williams.” Coach Jackson smirked at him. “I’m still the boss.”

            “I’ll be sure and remember you said that next time I’ve got you bent over that desk in your office.” Brad countered.

            “I’ll be looking forward to it, kid.” Coach Jackson smirked again, closing the door behind him.



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