Sarge

I didn't know his first name. The town referred to him as Sarge MacAllister, but the guys on the team just called him Sarge. The man was definitely ex-Army, though possibly he rose to a rank above sergeant. After the military, he'd spent twenty solid years coaching the Jackson High Cougars to several state championship seasons. He was like a god in my hometown, and people still referred to the Sarge years of Cougar football.

The man retired several years ago but had stayed on. I think his title was volunteer coach, but his real job was to be Sarge - to remind us of the team's winning past and to inspire us to live up to it. It must have frustrated Coach Fitzgerald, our real coach, to have a competing authority figure on the team, but Sarge was hands off for the real coaching. He mostly spent time with us in the work out room or invited us to his back office for man-to-man chats. And each Friday, he'd give the rousing pep talk before we stormed out onto the football field. Fitzgerald was the brains of the team, but Sarge was its heart.

I'd been playing varsity a couple years when I found out that Sarge encouraged team morale in other ways.

"I heard about you and Kelly," Tom Stansell said, referring to my recent break up as we walked back to the field house after a long, grueling practice. Tom was another linebacker and he and I were pretty tight, though maybe not good friends outside of football. "That's tough."

"Yeah, it sucks," I said. Kelly Allen was a very cute and very stacked cheerleader I'd dated through junior year. "I mean, I was the one who broke it off, but I miss pussy something bad," I added with a laugh. Like most of the guys on the team, I'd learned to be crude in talking about the girls I fucked, wanted to fuck, or just pretended to fuck.

"I hear ya," Tom said. He tended to date the smart girls rather than the cheerleader type, but he too was between girlfriends, despite being one of the most attractive, outgoing guys in the school - 6'5", muscular, and with sea blue eyes that amped up his success rate.

Tom then dropped his voice low and looked around a second before he added, "Listen, Rick... you ever think about letting a dude take care of you?"

I was shocked. Less by the idea. I mean, yes, I had thought about that idea, a lot. But more shocked that ladies man Tom Stansell was the one bringing it up. "I dunno," I replied noncommittally. "Why?"

Tom gave a casual shurg, even through his football pads. "Maybe not your thing, but men can do it better, I swear. At least when you're between chicks," he clarified. He gave me a deeper look. "If you want, bro, I can introduce you to a very good cock sucker."

A part of me worried this was a bait, a gag on Tom's part. But the way he was talking and looking at me seemed dead serious, and I knew instinctively that Stansell wasn't that good an actor.

"Yeah?" I ventured. My dick was starting to firm up in my jock strap as we got closer to the field house.

We paused and Tom nodded. "You gotta swear you'll keep it a secret. The dude could get into some trouble if people found out."

"Sure," I said, surprised how the conversation had turned from a hypothetical to agreeing to a man blowing me. This was going to happen, I felt.

Tom smiled but reasserted. "Seriously, Miller," he used my last name. "Promise me."

"I swear, man."

That's what Tom wanted to hear. He patted my shoulder. "Just follow me after practice, bro. You won't regret it."

So I did. And a sinking feeling entered the pit of my stomach as I followed Tom's car to a familiar neighborhood and a familiar house. Sarge's. He'd had the team over for end of year pool parties, and now I wondered what else went on at those parties.

But any butterflies in my stomach didn't compare to how turned on I was as I got out of my car and walked over to my teammate. He had a proud look on his face, and a big smile, and he walked in kind of a jocky strut. "See why I couldn't tell ya, Miller?" he grinned.

"Oh yeah," I said. "Fuck. Is this for real?"

"For real," Tom said as he patted my shoulder again to encourage me to walk with him to the door. "Sarge is a pro at sucking cock... you'll see, man."

It was the same old Sarge who answered the door. 65, give or take, silver hair thinning now, tan, ruggedly handsome face, and all that ex-military muscle filling out his beaten-up gray T-shirt and sweat pants. I'm sure that muscle was harder twenty years ago, but it was still pretty damn impressive and if anything his granddad look made the bulk more enticing.

"Gentlemen," he greeted us, come in.

It was like the one-on-one bull sessions in Sarge's office. Open door policy, making you feel like one of the men. "Glad you could join us, Miller," he said as he gave my upper arm a quick squeeze. Like Tom, I was a few inches taller than Sarge.

"Thanks for having us, Sarge," I said, as if he was inviting us over for iced tea or something. I felt nervous and awkward but Sarge didn't seem either of those things, and that put me at ease some.

Sarge chuckled softly and gave Tom a knowing look. "Wanna enjoy the pool for a bit, Stansell?" It was as much a request as a question.

"Aye aye Sarge," Tom grinned and gave my a fist bump before walking to the back fenced in area. Sarge live in a quiet subdivision on the egde of town and had a big private fenced in back yard with a sprawling deck and a pool. Tom was already peeling off his shirt and tossing it on an empty chair. He'd clearly been coming over regularly and made himself at home.

Pretty quickly, it was just me and Sarge, in his living room. He looked at me in a friendly but quietly lusty way. "Tom told you how I help him out, right?"

I nodded. "Not the full details, Sarge, but yeah."

His gaze grew more direct. "You want me to help you out too, Rick?" Sarge almost never used my first name.

I was so nervous, but even more I was horny. A lump formed in my throat as I replied. "Yeah, Sarge. That'd be great."

That made the veteran coach smile. "Why don't you show me what you got," he urged.

It took me a half second to realize what he meant. Then I started undoing my jeans and pulling them and my briefs down. My dick had a mind of its own and was pulsing rapidly toward full erection.

"Fucking nice cock, Miller," Sarge enthused, like he was complimenting me on a great catch during a game. "You been holding out on me, buddy."

I looked at Sarge. 200 pounds and then some - all mature, hardened muscle, a gruff man's man. But all of a sudden his bachelor ways made sense to me. "I guess," I laughed nervously. But my dick wasn't nervous. I was getting rock hard and Sarge's clear desire for me fueled my excitement.

As if time was in slow motion, the built older stud got off of his sofa and crossed over to me. His eyes were half on me, half on my cock. He gave a subtle nod then crouched down, running his hands up and down my bare legs. That felt great.

Sarge edged closer to my crotch. I watched, almost not believing this was going to happen. The man was over 45 years my senior and hot as fuck. And that gruff masculine fact looked up at me. "You don't have to hold back, Miller," he urged. "Just last as long as you like, buddy."

And with that I felt the man's lips circle the head of my cut cock. The first bobs were exploratory and shallow. I loved them, loved watching Sarge clearly excited for my cock. I guess I knew I had a decent sized tool, but this man acted like it was the most amazing dick he'd ever sucked.

Then, the blow job got better. Sarge's mouth strokes went deeper, fuller onto my prick, getting closer and closer to my pubes with each bob. This wasn't a cheerleader blowjob, this was a man who loved servicing dick and loved showing off his skills.

My breath grew short and I held on to Sarge's meaty, muscular shoulders as he got me there. "Oh fuck, Sarge... I'm gonna cum... oh fuck.... HOLY SHIT!"

My ejaculation felt like a firehose of pressure releasing the built up load in my balls. Hands down, it was the best orgasm of my years to date. Sarge bobbed up and down more frantically, milking every drop from my horny teen testicles. He seemed to know when I was getting too sensitive, too, cause he finally pulled off, resting his face about a foot from my spent hardon.

"Damn, buddy," he gurgled with cum and saliva in the back of his throat still. "That was one hell of a load." He held on to my balls, not roughly, almost lovingly. "You need to get these drained more, Miller."

I was coming down from the high of my orgasm and getting my senses back. "You offering, Sarge?" Now feeling more familiar with the grandfather figure, who I now looked at in a very different way.

The man looked up at me. Playful, but lusty. "Damn straight I am, Miller." He patted my prick once more before letting go of my genitals. "I'll take care of you again in a bit if you want. After Stansell's turn."

Damn, I'd forgotten about Tom. All of this was so wild. "Yeah?" I said. My dick surged at the idea of another BJ, but I knew it could use the rest.

Sarge winked at me, then patted my leg. I still had my T-shirt on but my jeans were pooled around my ankles. "Why don't you cool off in the pool? You can skinny dip... no neighbors to see you."

I nodded and got off of the sofa, pulling up my jeans but not zipping them up. Sarge led me back to the french door entrance to the deck, his strong hand affectionately on my shoulder the whole way. I couldn't help but notice the man's dick was stiff in his sweats now.

"Ready, Stansell?" he called out before stepping back inside.

I walked out toward the pool. Tom was treading water but swam to the edge and got out. He'd been nude in the pool, and his naked body looked pretty good as he got out. His dick was thick, thicker than mine, and was already chubbing as he walked toward me.

"How was it Rick?" he asked.

I gave my biggest grin. "Fucking incredible, man. You weren't lying."

"Cool," the linebacker said. "I might be a while. Sarge has been showing me how to edge... Kind of something he and I have been exploring lately."

"That's cool,"" I said. "Enjoy it, bro."

"I will," he said and sauntered into the big house.

I stripped down and enjoyed the cool water. In another month, it would be too cold for an outdoor dip in the pool, but then it was perfect. I didn't have a watch, but Tom must have been inside for a good thirty to forty minutes. It was almost dark when he slid open the doors and ran out to jump into the pool, like a little kid. When he resurfaced he swam over to me. "If you want seconds, Rick, Sarge is ready for you."

I felt self conscious getting out of the pool with a hardon. But I couldn't help it, thinking about what Sarge and Tom had done got me excited. And I figured Tom and I were there for sex with a man, he wouldn't be phased by me showing hard. And he wasn't. As I walked around the pool decking, Tom dove back in and started doing gentle laps.

Sarge was waiting for me, hanging out seated at his kitchen island and drinking a sparkling water. "Damn, buddy," he growled as he saw my hardon. "eager for more, aren't ya?"

"Yes, sir," I grinned.

The man pushed his stool back and turned toward me, spreading his legs. I saw that even though he had on that stretched gray T-shirt still, he was naked from the waist down. Maybe he was nervous he was going to scare me off earlier with his nakedness and was less concerned now. Turns out I loved seeing it. Sarge's crotch was thick was dark-silver fur that extended to lighter-colored hair that covered his legs. The man's dick was a solid tool, though not as big as me or Tom, nor as firm in its erection.

"Bring it here, Miller," Sarge growled, patting his legs.

I stepped forward and enjoyed being a piece of meat for the older man. His callused hands ran up and down my mostly smooth jock muscle. "The weights have been paying off, buddy," he hissed appreciatively. Even if he wasn't touching my cock, I felt the excitement there, too, almost as if he was stimulating my genitals.

I reached forward, too, in a cautious, exploratory way, and ran my hands along Sarge's arms and shoulders through the shirt cotton. I knew the man lifted regularly, cause he was there in the weight room with us guys day in and day out. But I had first hand knowledge of how solid he'd kept himself. Sarge grinned as he watched my face.

"You like that muscle, Miller?" he asked excitedly.

"Yeah, Sarge, I do," I replied honestly. "A lot."

The man bit his lip thoughtfully, then reached to the hem of his shirt. I stepped back a little and watched the man strip off the last of his clothing.

Holy fuck, it was an incredible sight. I didn't know until that afternoon how much I was wired for older men. Much older men. Granddad types, at least if they were like Sarge. His chest swirled with heavy silver fur and had this amazing combination of still hard muscle and rugged, sagging skin that made my cock twitch. It was a big taboo, being with a man so much older than me. I didn't lust after either of my grandfathers, but this felt almost as nasty.

I took the liberty of running my fingers through all that chest hair. That made Sarge grin up at me as he wrapped his fist around my boner, feeling first hand how turned on I was. I could tell he was surprised by how into this I was.

"You think you might be up for more than a blowie, Miller?" the man asked in a masculine gravely voice.

My heart pounded. I had an idea of what the man was suggesting, but I was still naive and new to all this. "What are you thinking, Sarge?" I asked.

He more openly stroked my dick, which was getting wetter in his palm from my precum. "I bet this bad boy would feel amazing in my ass... if you're up for that kind of thing, stud."

"God, yeah," I hissed. And like that, Sarge and I were kissing. Tongue and all. Not like a kiss with one of my girlfriends, this felt deep and crudely sexual. I loved it.

The authority figure led me back to his bedroom and I got to admire his backside, all thick and meaty. Sarge had a granddaddy ass, I'd come to realize after stroking off to mature porn over the next month, and for years after. Not quite as round and firm as a middle-aged man or younger, but somehow that allured me, too. As did the hamstrings which were underdeveloped compared to the front of his legs.

For the next twenty minutes, Sarge briefly coached me in how to prep a man's ass and how to enter him. Then he let my teen jock instinct and hormones do the rest. God, it was incredible. Sarge's guts were tight and warm and after I worked myself in, the man's insides welcomed me deep. I fucked him steadily, then harder, and was rewarded to see him stroke his own load out, a good half minute before I came inside him. We kissed softly then uncoupled.

Tom was waiting for us in the kitchen, helping himself to a beer from Sarge's fridge. He'd dried off from the pool but his hair was wet and his naked body damp.

"You showing him to edge, MacAllister?" Tom teased. It was the first time I'd ever heard a player call Sarge by his last name. It felt familiar, overly familiar even.

Sarge didn't seem to notice or be bothered. "Nah, gave Miller here the full ride," the man said. I was starting to feel self conscious being naked around Tom, but my clothes were outside. And Sarge was very open in his nudity. "If you ever wanna try, let me know, Stansell."

"I'm good Sarge," Tom grinned. "I'll stick to head." He reached down and arranged his junk. He wasn't hard but was getting there.

I watched in amazement as Sarge got down to kneel on the kitchen floor and take Tom into his mouth.

Sarge blew Tom. I watched. Tom sipped his beer and looked down, enjoying the grade-A blow job before he looked up at me. "You're real into this shit, aren't ya, Rick?"

I wasn't sure if that was a put down or not, but I answered anyway. "Yeah, I am. A lot."

Tom smiled. "That's cool. Just didn't expect it."

That made two of us. I watched Tom start guiding Sarge's slightly balding head up and down onto his hard dick, urgently coaxing the older man to get him off. I wanted to watch but worried Tom would think I was perving out on him too much. I gave him a friendly pat as I walked past to go out and retrieve my clothing.

***

I don't know how many players Sarge took care of. There was Keith White, a tight end, and our quarterback Cameron Barrett. One or both of these guys would be hanging out at Sarge's when I'd go over, in the evenings or on the weekend. Tom Stansell got a girlfriend and stopped coming, but occasionally he'd drop a lewd comment to me asking if Sarge was taking good care of me. I'd grin and say he was.

I still don't know if Sarge tapped into something that was there already, or if I got into mature men because of him. But I got into porn with older daddies. Granddaddies. Major age gaps. It was all amazing, even if none of the men were as hot as Sarge.

I was slow to put two and two together, but I saw Barrett walk out of Sarge's office as we were suiting up for the championship game. He had a familiar, freshly laid look on his face. There was no way Sarge was blowing him right here in the field house, was there?

My curiosity got the best of me. I figured we had about twenty minutes before Sarge would come out and give us our big pep talk. Telling us about Cougar pride and the killer instinct inside us. Telling us to go out there and whoop some ass.

I padded down the hall, cleats on the concrete floor. I knocked on Sarge's metal office door. The man was looking over play charts. Old habits, maybe, because Coach Fitzgerald was the one who called the plays. He looked up, brown eyes brightening as he saw me. "Come in, Miller... and shut the door."

I did as instructed, stepping in a couple of steps.

"You got the pregame jitters, Rick?" he asked, in his normal friendly coach-like tone.

"Something like that, Coach," I said. I wasn't gonna come out and ask him for sex, not here. But I wanted to feel out if that was a possibility.

He grinned and got out of his seat. He wore a Cougars Football sweatshirt but had on a pair of coach shorts that showed off his sinewed, furry mature legs. I knew he was a week from his 66th birthday and the man could not be hotter in my eyes.

Particularly as he turned and dropped his shorts then bent over to brace himself on his desk.

"Gotta make it a quick one, today, Miller," he urged. "OK?"

"Yeah, Sarge," I hissed in lust, unlacing my football pants as fast as I could. As I pulled out my cup and fisted my cock to full hardness, I looked around. "Um, you got any stuff?" I still could be shy when it came to fucking, and for some reason asking for lube seemed too crude at the moment.

The man shook his head and held his upper body steady in a passive stance. "Barrett loaded me up pretty good just now. So I'm plenty slick for ya, buddy."

So I wasn't the only player fucking Sarge. I lined up my hardon and figured I didn't have to persuade his hole to relax. I nudged in and then pressed for full penetration.

Sarge's guts accepted me and then some. Twenty minutes before game time and I was in the saddle. Fuck.

I held onto the man's hips and replayed the granddad porn fantasies in my head. Then realized that Sarge was hotter than the fantasies so I watched his bent over body as I fucked him fast and hard. I loved it all. His broad shoulder and spread legs and silver haired head. I was getting there quick, all right.

I leaned forward and started kissing his neck and that bristly military-cut silver hair as I fucked faster to my orgasm.

"Love you, Sarge," I let out as I came, hard.

"Nice," I heard his soft masculine growl as I slowly pulled out and stood up. The man methodically grabbed a kleenex and wiped his spermed crack before pulling up those coach shorts. There was cum on the desk, Sarge's cum, and I felt a wave of pride rush through me.

At least until embarrassment set in. "Sorry, Sarge," I explained as I replaced my cup and laced up my uniform again. "Guess I got carried away."

The man gave me a knowing look, but it was almost like he felt he was the one getting carried away. He stepped up to me and placed his arms around my waist. "It's OK, Miller. I guess I'm pretty crazy about you, too," he said. We kissed, softly. This was wild and forbidden and completely right. When we kissed he patted my ass, almost like a coach more than a lover. "We'll talk about it this weekend, OK?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

The man winked. "OK, Miller... go out and knock 'em dead today. Make me proud of you, ya hear?"

I laughed. "Yessir, Sarge." I still didn't know his first name, but hopefully that weekend I would learn it.

I claimed another kiss then walked back out into the locker room, joining my teammates. Barrett shot me a smirk, but no one else noticed anything unusual.

Five minutes later Sarge strutted out, face reddened barking at his in his best Army-turned-Coach voice. "All right guys! You ready to wipe that football field with some Whtiman County ass?!"

"Yes, Sarge!" I bellowed out, in unison with my teammates.