Coach and The Coal Miner
Sunday afternoon is tranquil for now. Scooter is still lying on his stomach on the couch, hands tied behind his back, wearing his racing leathers and motorcycle boots. The zipper over his ass is open revealing two manly globes oozing a mixture of cum from his crack left behind by coach and me after taking turns fucking him. He’s exhausted and has fallen to sleep.
Coach has changed out of his Cammie uniform and back into his grey cotton shorts minus his jockstrap. His big cock is hanging down, the head peeping out of the bottom of his shorts. He sees me looking at it and smiles.
“You just can’t get enough of me can you son.” He questions while gripping his trouser snake.
No sir, enough is never enough when it comes to you. You can have anything you want from me.
“I’ll keep that offer in mind champ, but right now, we need to come up with a plan to deal with Marshall and his two sons. They should be arriving sometimes tomorrow morning or later tonight.”
Part Two
Marshall. Zack and Max
Come on you two lazy bones – rise and shine we have a lot of miles to eat up before we get to Phil’s college tonight.
Phil’s two younger brothers Zack and Max are tangled together under the blanket keeping warm in this early spring morning. Zack, the nineteen-year-old still has his dick up his younger brother Max’s butthole. His cum has leaked out of the loosened hole and puddled on the mattress under them and dried.
Max, yawns, stretches reaching between his legs to cup his brother’s hairy ball sack in his hand and twist, pulling it down to the mattress.
“Damn Max, don’t crush my baby factory, I’m gonna need those swimmers one day to make a family!”
We’re your family big brother, dad and me – you don’t need no cheating wife like dad had, we’ve got each other. Max whispers into his pillow hoping that his dad and his brother can hear him.
“That’s right son, as long as we have each other, then nothing bad can happen. We don’t need no outsiders interfering with us now do we boys?”
No sir, they both chime in as Zack unplugs his cock from his brother’s ass and uses both hands to turn Max’s face to his. He kisses him passionately tasting the brother he’s fallen in love with.
“Ok, ok you two, unclench and get into the kitchen and fix us some breakfast, we got a long way to go before nightfall.”
Marshall found nothing special or unusual about his two sons kissing and fondling each other, something he had done to both of his sons at one time or another in the past and still does.
Marshall is tall, well over six feet. It’s easy to see that he’s a working man from the coal mines. His finger nails are not polished or manicured like some city dude, they have black coal dust under them. His hands are calloused, big and hairy capable of operating the longwall shearer used to remove coal from the face of the wall in an underground mine.
If you happen to meet him in a dark alley and didn’t know him, you’d shit your drawers. His six-feet-four frame caries two hundred and fifty pounds of hairy man muscle that makes him look like a dangerous hunter of men and wild animals. You automatically step aside and allow him to pass.
He spots what he likes and takes it, with force if necessary. That’s how he broke in both of his sons. He started fucking both in their early teens. Sixteen was a lucky number for him, and he loved their sweet soft butt puckers. Now they crave his nine-inch uncut donkey cock like a baby craves his mother’s breast milk.
He lets them feed on him every Saturday night after returning from the mines before he hits the shower. His hair thighs spread wide. His crotch hog standing tall, hard and throbbing out of the fly of his overalls.
They take turns sucking on his dick head, passing his thick pole from one mouth to the other until the eruption occurs and massive amounts of cloudy discharge fills the lucky boy’s mouth. He in turn locks his mouth on the others and shares the harvest. To say they’re close would be an underestimate of their commitment to each other.
Not only do they love each other in an incestuous fashion they love their dad the same way and are insanely protective and jealous of anyone who shows any interest in him. They’re ready to fight to the death to keep their dad as their own.
Case in point is Jed Barnett, dad’s poker and drinking pal. Jed was a tall hot looking handy man around town in his early thirties. He’s what they call black Irish. Dark hair and craggy features, and brown eyes give him a handsome/ugly face that captures your interest right away and holds it
He wears tight fitting jeans to show off his thick dick meat through the hand rubbed faded spot in his crotch and size thirteen cowboy boots that are the first thing about him to catch your eye, even if you’re not a boot loving freak, you stare at them.
Jed’s handsome face has spent a lot of time nuzzling the crotch of any woman lucky enough to catch his attention. He’s a lover of cunt juices but has been known to do the same to an occasional male drifter coming through town, cunt eating, cum eating and ass eating to him are the same, male or female.
The boys accidently spied their dad fucking Jed after a poker party one Friday night out behind one of the shabby wooden out buildings. Marshall was so involved jabbing his nine and a half uncut cock up Jed’s welcoming butthole that he didn’t notice them watching from a discrete distance.
They waited until Jed went home drunk to his one room shack on the outskirts of town. Followed him to his front porch, jumped him. Max held his arms behind his back while Zack beat the living shit out of him with his bare fist. Jed’s face was battered, left eye blood shot and swollen to twice its size. Cheek bones beaten, cut and bruised, his nose, probably broken drained blood down his face to drip off his unshaven chin and onto his shirt front.
“If I catch you hanging around my dad again, I’ll fucking kill you.” Zack screamed at the man, battered and crumpled at his feet. “Time for you to move on to the next town and the next job.”
Jed took him to heart and left town the next day without saying good bye to Marshall.
That’s the length the boys will go to keep their dad to themselves. The boys are dangerous but smart enough to get away with anything they put their minds to. What their futures hold is any one’s guess. Right now, the only thing that truly interest them is sex, and more sex the same as any young man.
Zack and Max are not as tall as their dad, but both are a good six-feet-two-inches. Zack is the heavier of the two, nearly one-seventy-five pounds to Max’s one hundred and fifty.
Zack is a trained boxer and a member in good standing at the Elite Boxing Club in Morganville. He has defeated every man in his class for the past two years and because of his weight he is considered a light heavyweight.
When he pulls on his high-top boxing boots and laces them up and does the same with his black Everlast boxing gloves he looks like a Roman gladiator ready for any challenge. He has a killer’s instinct when It comes to using his hands. He hasn’t lost a bout yet.
Zack is a regular at the local YMCA gym where he works out lifting heavy weight to bulk up his already muscular body. He has the developed chest of a pro body builder with pecs like slabs of tanned marble. His lats, traps and biceps are hard as steel. He has been taking steroids since his senior year of high school. His temper is short and volatile.
He has the look of a young Clint Eastwood and is as strong as a work horse with ripped abdominals and a treasure trail leading down to a dense patch of dark pubes. His cock is a solid eight and a half inches when hard. Thick and heavily veined with a large helmet shaped head with pouting lips and wide piss slit. The head is half hidden by its fleshy overhang.
Max, is sweet and innocent, the typical dumb jock with a nature to match. He has shaggy blond hair that falls over his forehead. His face is not as angular as his brother’s but has well defined planes and flawless skin and a stand out jawline, and a roman nose. His dick is a respectful seven and a half inches, thick and needy but unlike his brother, he’s circumcised.
He has a sweet boyish smile revealing straight white teeth. With that smile, he can get whatever he wants, and what he wants is his brother’s cunt stretcher up his bum hole, painfully stretching and filling it with his dick meat. He also craves his dad’s full balls. Max is a cum hound of the first order. He’d rather eat cum than food. And his dad keeps Max’s belly full of his seed.
The boys cook and serve breakfast, clean up afterwards, get organized for the trip.
Part Three
Coach’s House
It’s about 10pm Sunday, still hot and humid when the black pickup truck with a silver cab-over camper pulls into my driveway. I’m standing at the window in the living room, curtain pulled back watching.
The trio get out of the truck. Marshall is shirtless. The Eagle Globe and Anchor USMC tattoo on his hairy chest stands out notably. He never talks about his service in the Corps being a private man.
The boys are also shirtless. Zack has the tattoo of a pair of black boxing gloves and pair of black high-top boxing boots on his left arm. Max has no tattoos on his young body.
I have consumed several shots of Jack Daniels and a couple of beers after sending Roger and Scooter back to their college dorm rooms, so I’m relaxed and ready to receive my house guest.
Just thinking about having three strange men in my house sends a lightning bolt through my body directly to my cock. My dick head is swollen and peeping out of the bottom of my shorts. It’s visible to anyone who looks my way.
As they walk toward the house I can see the huge bulges in all of their Levis. I step out of the front door to greet them. Marshall’s USMC tattoo causes me to break into a grin that eats up my entire face.
OORAH Marine! Welcome to my house.
I shout moving forward and grip both of Marshall’s shoulders, pull him forward and bump chest in a silent statement of comradery. The boys are watching closely, exchanging knowing glances. Neither of them is smiling.
“Thank you coach Brian, OORAH! RIGHT back at you Marine. Thanks for having the three of us as your guest. Things are a little tough where we hail from. The mine is closed for maintenance and I’ve been out of work for over a month now and things are a little tight.”
Marshall, don’t worry about a thing while you guys are my guest, I’ll take care of everything. I want you guys to relax and enjoy being here with me.
The boys are raking me over with their eyes as they approach with hands out.
“Thank you, sir, that means a lot to us.” Zack says taking my hand in his powerful grasp, applying a squeeze that could be interpreted as a challenge, but I let it pass because to be totally honest when he locked eyes with me my dick began to throb and fill with blood.
“That goes double for me, sir” Max remarks taking my hand in his, but looking down at my dick head trying to snake out of my shorts. He has a gleeful smile on his young boyish face.
I drop my arm over Marshall’s shoulder and lead him into the living room.
His body is radiating enough heat to create tremors in my body that he must be detecting.
He puts his heavy arm over my shoulder and gives my deltoids a tight friendly squeeze looking deeply into my soul smiling, the tip of his tongue moistening his lips.
Welcome to my humble house men. There’s a standard heavy bag and a speed ball hanging on the covered patio out back that you are welcome to use. The swimming pool has just been cleaned so feel free to jump in and have a cool off and a swim.
This being a cul-de-sac the entire back yard area is totally private, take that for what it’s worth!
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a young man so bulked up like Zac. The veining all over his body stands out like blue highways. The deltoids on top of his massive shoulders are as large as grape fruits. His biceps are cut and look like skin over iron. His thighs are tree trunks, his calves are cut and heavily veined. He has size thirteen feet inside of those brown cowboy boots.
I’ve seen college boys like him at the gym and my suspicion is he’s on steroids. And like so many young men these days, he’s in a hurry to bulk up. I’ll be keeping an eye on him that’s for sure. Steroids can turn a calm man into an animal in a flash.
I get them settled into the bedrooms. I put Marshall in the bedroom at the end of the hall next to mine, and the boys into the bedroom at the head of the hallway, the one with two single beds.
I order two large pizzas for delivery and when they arrive we sit at the dining room table. I’m on one side next to Marshall and the boys are sitting opposite us. After several slices, each and a couple of cold Moosehead beers we’re feeling no pain.
After four beers each, we fall into a conversation about baseball and Phil’s performance as catcher for the team. I’m feeling a little drowsy and nodding off a little when I feel warm boot leather softly stroke my bare leg. Max is looking at me, nodding his head, that innocent boyish smile on his face.
Well men, I better hit the hay. I have a full schedule ahead of me tomorrow. Everything you might need to shower or whatever tonight can be found in the main bathroom next to the boy’s room. Have a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you bright and early for breakfast.
I leave the table and tell them to leave everything and I’ll take care of it in the morning.
The boys are watching me leave the dining room. Zack and Max are exchanging glances as they watch me depart. Marshall is sitting with his long legs stretched out under the table, his eyes closed and nodding off.
The boys are speaking in low whispers. “I don’t like the way the coach looked at dad, do you Zack? Hell, no I don’t like it at all.”
“You can’t beat up the coach the way you did Jed – what are we going to do then Zack?”
“I don’t know Max, but I’ll figure something out, you can count on it – he ain’t gonna have our dad!”
“You’re fucking right Zack, let’s come up with something.”
Marshall is not asleep, only resting his eyes. And he hears, and learns for the first time, what his two sons did to his fuck pal. He doesn’t acknowledge the conversation but files It away for use later.
I strip down and stumble into my bed and fall into a deep sleep. I don’t know how long I lingered in dream land before a warm wet sensation surrounds my dick head.
In my dream, Sergeant Collins, my Marine pal from Camp Lejeune is swinging on my piece like he loved to do on a weekend drinking binge. Tonight, in my dream I shoot a heavy load down his throat, then feel his raspy tongue clean off the head of my dick.
I don’t know what caused me to leave my dream and come back to reality, but in my half-awake stupor I thought I saw a figure leaving my bedroom. A sliver of light from the hallway, then darkness. I fell back to sleep instantly and start dreaming of Marshall fucking and manhandling me like the tough Marine he is when the alarm clock startles me back into the real world.
End of Chapter Seven
Rex Larsen
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