My Wrestler; My Nemesis

Time stopped the moment my eyes had closed.

I'm not sure how long I was asleep, but a gleam of sunlight crept through the drawn window shade and was making its way across my face. I squinted and held my hand up to deflect it and sit up. That's when the pull against Mr. Locke's stitches woke me completely. Working through the pain, I slowly sat up. I was still in the back bedroom of his house, and I was freezing. Sweat trickled down my chest and over the newly sewn flesh.

I felt awful.

I drank from a glass of water left on the bedside table but quickly realized it was peroxide and spat it on to the floor.

"What are you doing?"

In the doorway stood coach holding a cup of coffee.

"What did you do to me coach?"

"What I had to do. What I always do."

I glanced to the floor at his feet; a wave of guilt and shame washed over me. The tone in his voice was too familiar. As if I had been to the wrestling mat, battled for him, and lost. I dropped my head into my hands and leaned onto my knees. My head was spinning. What did he want me to say?

I heard him cross the floor and take a seat next to me on the bed.

"Jesus Doug, you're soaked." His rough skinned hand swept across my back, "you're on fire."

I was breathing heavier now and I felt I was going to break into tears at any moment, but I had to hold it back. Couch didn't tolerate anyone on the team feeling weak, lest we shed a tear even when injured. All of his boys were tough. He made sure of it.

"God dammit - you've got a fever."

He reached across the front of me and opened an orange bottle on the table next to the glass of peroxide.

"You need to take two of these and I'll get you some water."

I took the pills, swallowed them whole, and lay back into the pillow, "...no need - I got 'em down."

Coach was seated next to me on the bed, drinking from his cup.

I lay there looking beyond the doorway of the room wondering where Kyle had gone. The house was quiet. Sweat trickled down my sides and I shivered. The hairs on my arms and chest stood up as a chill took me. I wanted to cover up, but he was sitting on the top sheet. I didn't dare ask. Except for my blue boxers, I lay there naked and exposed.

Coach sat quietly sipping his coffee intently watching me; like an artist admiring his own work. The light that had woke me earlier was making its way down the bed. I could feel its warmth on my neck and chest. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"A little..."

"Good."

I flinched when his hand grasp my upper thigh firmly. "You know Doug, despite your recent fuck ups with that Shaw kid, I have to admit your accomplishments are substantial."

His hand moved inward on my upper thigh, slowly down under my knee and cupped my calf.

"I take great pride in what we've been able to do. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I guess..." I shifted away from him, but his grip on my leg tightened. When I looked towards him, his eyes were fixed on mine. Our stare was intense and I felt my inside start to stir - not in a good way.

"You guess? You guess!!" He removed his hand and turned on the bed to face the door. He inhaled deeply - as if he were about to blow a house down, then stood and left.

I couldn't help but feel some relief at his absence. Coach Locke had done a lot for me, but it came with a price. A sometimes painful and unpleasant price. I rolled onto my side to face the window and pulled the sheet up over me. The goofy sensation of the pills was making me tired again. I closed my eyes and tried to forget what was going on but it was difficult. I could hear him in the next room (a door being pushed open and hitting its jam as it ricocheted back against a solid hand, drawers slamming shut, and then loud footsteps in the hall).

He was coming back - and this time he was pissed. I clenched my eyes shut in fear of what was about to happen. I only hoped the numbness I was feeling from the medication would make it pass more easily.

Mr. Locke was a wrestling coach for a reason. Something you probably don't have to guess to hard at by now. He liked it rough, and he gave it rough. Sometimes I liked it and sometimes I didn't. Today wasn't one of the days I was going to enjoy it - or so I thought. When I heard his voice behind me, I turned and felt myself shrink into the bed.

Coach stood naked in the doorway of back bedroom. His tall solid frame glistened with sweat, his chest heaving in angered breath, his hands clenched - like some raging bull hulk. For an older guy, coach made the time to take care of himself. His pecks were formidable yet sagged just a little, his love handles (while empty) hung slightly flaccid at his waist, the crest of his pelvic bones prominently on his torso, his lower abdominals tight, his thighs bulging, and his cock and balls swathed in a thick nest of black and gray pubic hair. The icing on this cake was the black leather chaps he put on while in the other room.

In my head I could hear my self say, 'oh fuck'.

He rushed to the edge of the bed, tore the sheet back, and tugged at my legs until I was laying cross ways on the bed.

"You guess. Well you know what Doug - I'm guessing you need a little reminder of how I run things on this team. What do you think?"

"...oh fuck... Coach, I'm sorry!"

"You're sorry? I don't want to hear that kind of bullshit; you pathetic little fuck."

He grabbed at the fly on my boxers and tugged hard. The fabric tore away easily, exposing my cock.

"You know what I want!?!"

"Yes sir - I do."

He paused for a moment, regaining his composure and then smiled.

"Good - then you know what to do."

"Yes sir"

He stood up straight, his cock protruding further up and away from its black nest of hair as it grew. Coach had a huge dick, especially when he was really worked up - like he was now. This is when things can get pretty intense. I was intimidated by the leather, but I knew what coach expected. As best I could, I pulled my knees to my chest, tore my boxers even further and lifted my ass for him.

Coach loved to eat ass and there were advantages to being with an older man. He knew what he was doing. I will never forget the first time he tongue fucked me. Oh my god! He set the bar so high; I've always been disappointed by anyone else who has stuck there nose up my backside.

Coach knelt down, grabbed me around the waist, and pulled me across the bed so to raise my ass to his face. My neck bent hard with my chin to my chest and my legs flopped down on either side of my head. The feel of his course chest hair against my back was warm and familiar. The heat of his breath scorched the underside of my nuts and the feel of his chin stubble against my ass cheeks sent me reeling. He spat at my asshole twice before running his tongue around my hole and slipping it inside me.

I gasped, closed my eyes and groaned as he ate away at my fuck hole.

"...oh fuck yeah..." I moaned as he shook his face back and forth between the cheeks of my butt. His tongue darting in and out, then slowly swiping across the soft pink skin of my sphincter. His grip on me was intense and I was locked against him.

My cock became engorged with blood, the head of my prick brushed against the thick hair on his forearms, and my nuts spun inside their sack. I had hoped that my senses would have been numbed by the pills he had given me, but it only gave me more pleasure as he used me. My arms flopped back over my head, the scent of my underarms was pungent from not having bathed - but it made it all the better. I was lost in the fury of our sex. The sounds, the touch, the smells, it all coalesced into the most amazing feeling of ecstasy.

That's what it was. That's what it must have been - rapture.

Coaches tongue started its short journey from my pink fuck hole to the base of my ball sack, and with fierce intensity, he sucked my nuts into his mouth and tugged firmly at them.

He moaned and groaned as he ate my ass.

Across my lower back, I felt the coach's swollen prick grind against me, he was oozing and dripping down my back. My own sweet nectar dripped from the slit in my cock onto my chest and face I caught what I could and savored it.

The root of my dick protruded from under my scrotum and swelled to its maximum girth. I could feel it throbbing deep in my innards; a thick long swollen cock ready to explode. Coach knew me and could tell it was time.

Time for him to get what he really wanted.