Miller stood, breathing steady. Jake stayed down, chest heaving. The coach turned to Asher, still frozen by the door. "Your turn." Asher swallowed. Miller pointed at the mat. "Now, son." Asher stepped forward, legs unsteady. Miller crouched, ready. "Attack." Asher lunged, mimicking Jake’s earlier charge. Miller sidestepped effortlessly, hooking Asher’s ankle. Asher crashed down. Miller was on him instantly—knee on sternum, hand pinning a wrist. "Predictable," Miller said, his weight crushing. Asher’s free hand pushed uselessly against Miller’s thigh. The coach leaned closer, forearm pressing against Asher’s windpipe. "Yield?" Asher shook his head, eyes watering. Miller increased pressure. Darkness crept at the edges of Asher’s vision. He tapped wildly. Miller released him instantly. Asher rolled away, gasping.
"Again," Miller commanded. Asher scrambled up. This time, he feigned a takedown, then shot for Miller’s hips. Miller sprawled back, hips shifting—but Asher drove forward, wrapping Miller’s waist. They crashed together. Skin slapped skin. Asher’s cock slapped hard against Miller’s thigh as he strained for leverage. Miller trapped Asher’s arm, twisting it behind his back. Asher cried out, arching backward. Miller flipped him onto his back. Asher’s legs kicked wildly. Miller straddled his chest, pinning both wrists above his head. "I’m in control," Miller growled, grinding his hips down. Asher bucked, his cock slapping against his belly. Miller leaned forward, breath hot against Asher’s ear. "Yield?" Asher shook his head, teeth gritted.
Miller shifted his weight abruptly. He slid down Asher’s body, hooking Asher’s legs under his arms. With brutal efficiency, Miller flipped Asher onto his back again—but this time, he dragged Asher’s hips upward, spreading his legs wide. Miller slid underneath him, back pressed to the mat. Asher’s body arched over him, spread-eagled and vulnerable. Miller wrapped his legs around Asher’s waist, locking him in place. One arm snaked around Asher’s throat. The other pinned Asher’s wrist to the vinyl. "Move," Miller dared, his voice muffled against Asher’s shoulder. Asher thrashed—hips lifting, shoulders twisting—but Miller’s grip was iron. Every muscle burned. Sweat dripped onto Miller’s chest. Asher froze, panting, trapped and feeling very exposed.
He felt Miller’s cock beneath him, nestled hot and flaccid against the cleft of his ass. The coarse hair scraped his skin. Asher tried to arch away, but Miller’s legs clamped tighter. The movement shifted Miller’s cock—a heavy slide against Asher’s hole. Asher gasped. His own cock twitched against his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut. No. But blood surged, disobedient. His cock thickened slowly, lifting from his belly—veins swelling beneath olive skin. Six soft inches hardened to seven, then eight. The head flushed dark purple, foreskin taut. It strained upward, thick and heavy, brushing Asher’s navel. Confusion warred with shame. Miller’s breath hitched beneath him. The coach shifted his hips deliberately. His thickening cock ground deeper into Asher’s ass. "Distracted?" Miller rasped.
Asher’s cock throbbed, back to being fully erect now—a thick, veined nine inches jutting from his hips. Precum beaded at the slit, slicking the swollen head. Miller’s legs tightened around his waist, grinding Asher’s ass harder against the coach’s own stiffening length. Miller’s cock felt hot and rigid, pressing insistently along Asher’s crack. The coarse hair chafed. Sweat made skin slide. Asher shuddered, hips bucking involuntarily. His cock slapped his stomach, leaving a wet streak. Miller’s hand slid from Asher’s wrist, fingers digging into his hip instead. "Yield," Miller commanded, voice rough. His hips rolled upward, grinding harder. Asher whimpered. The friction burned—shameful, electric. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t escape. Couldn’t stop the traitorous heat coiling in his gut.
Jake’s shadow fell over them. He stood silent, eyes fixed on Asher’s straining cock. His gaze traced the thick shaft, the purple head slick with precum. A low whistle escaped him. "Fuck, Ash," Jake breathed, stepping closer. His bare feet padded softly on the vinyl. “It’s just so ridiculously big.” He knelt beside Asher’s pinned body, fingers brushing Asher’s inner thigh. The touch sparked—a jolt of electricity shooting through Asher’s nerves. Asher flinched violently. "Dude!" he choked out, straining against Miller’s iron grip. Miller’s arm tightened around his throat, cutting off his air. Jake’s fingers trailed higher, tracing the curve where thigh met groin. Slow. Deliberate. Asher’s breath hitched. Panic clawed his throat. "Bro!" he gasped, eyes wild on Miller. The coach’s expression stayed calm and he shook his head. His hips lifted again, grinding Asher down.
Jake’s fingers brushed the base of Asher’s cock—a feather-light touch. Asher jerked, muscles locking. "Please," he whispered, voice cracking. Tears pricked his eyes. Jake ignored him, leaning closer. His breath warmed Asher’s skin. The scent of sweat and precum thickened. Jake’s thumb traced a prominent vein along the shaft. "Jesus," he murmured, almost reverent. His other hand settled on Asher’s hip, pinning him alongside Miller’s vise-like legs. Asher thrashed, a desperate sob tearing free. "Jake what are you doing?" he begged, arching uselessly. Miller’s forearm pressed harder against his windpipe. Black spots danced in Asher’s vision. Jake’s fingers curled around the thick base, squeezing gently. Heat flooded Asher’s groin—shameful, unstoppable. His cock pulsed.
Jake’s face hovered inches from Asher’s straining erection. He studied the swollen head, the bead of precum glistening. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in. His lips brushed the tip, soft and fleeting. Asher cried out, hips bucking violently. Miller’s legs clamped down, immobilizing him. Jake’s tongue flicked out, tasting the slickness. Asher froze, breath catching. Horror warred with sensation. Jake met his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. Then he opened his mouth, taking the swollen head inside. Wet heat enveloped Asher. Shock ripped through him—a ragged gasp tearing loose as Jake sucked hard, tongue swirling the sensitive ridge. Miller’s hips rolled beneath him, grinding deeper. Asher’s world narrowed to the unbearable heat of Jake’s mouth and the relentless pressure of Miller’s cock against his ass.
Jake pulled off with a wet pop, leaving Asher’s cock slick and throbbing. Sweat-damp strands of Jake’s ginger hair clung to his forehead, obscuring one eye. He didn’t push them back. Instead, he gripped the thick base firmly with one hand, fingers pressing into the prominent vein running along the underside. With the other hand, he pinned Asher’s hip flat against Miller’s grinding thigh. Then Jake lowered his head again. His tongue, flat and hot, dragged slowly up the entire length of the shaft—from root to tip. He traced the pulsing vein meticulously, a wet, deliberate line against sensitive skin. Asher arched off Miller’s chest, a choked whimper escaping him. The sensation was electric—shameful, undeniable. His fingers scrabbled uselessly against the vinyl. "Please," he gasped, the word torn loose, involuntary. Jake’s tongue circled the swollen head, lapping up the fresh bead of precum. His eyes, dark and intent, watched Asher’s face over the straining length.
Jake’s grip tightened on Asher’s hip, holding him still against Miller’s upward thrusts. He lowered his head once more, this time taking the thick head deep into his mouth. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked hard, tongue pressing relentlessly against the slit. Sweat dripped from Jake’s brow onto Asher’s trembling thigh. Strands of his fair hair fell forward, brushing against Asher’s skin as Jake bobbed his head. The tickling sensation mixed with the overwhelming wet heat and the rhythmic pressure of Miller beneath him was too much. Asher’s hips jerked uncontrollably. A low moan vibrated deep in his throat. “Please Jake.” Jake pulled back slightly, swirling his tongue around the sensitive corona. His eyes flicked up, locking onto Asher’s. "Please what?" Jake murmured, breath hot against the slick skin. His hand slid from Asher’s hip to grip the base tighter, squeezing the pulsing vein. "Ask."
Miller’s hips snapped upward violently, grinding Asher’s ass hard against his own rigid length. The friction burned—coarse hair scraping tender skin. “Please don’t stop,” Asher whispered, his teenage hormones winning in his internal turmoil. Jake took Asher deep again, swallowing around the thick shaft, his throat constricting. The dual assault shattered Asher’s resistance. His back arched off Miller’s chest, muscles straining against the coach’s iron grip. "Please!" he cried out, voice raw and desperate—not a plea to stop, but a surrender to the sensations tearing through him. Jake’s muffled groan vibrated against his cock as Miller’s low chuckle rumbled beneath him. Jake’s hands tightened—one on Asher’s hip, the other gripping the thick base—anchoring him for Miller’s relentless thrusts. Sweat dripped from Asher’s jaw onto Miller’s heaving chest.
Jake came up abruptly, leaving Asher’s cock slick and throbbing in the cool air. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, gaze shifting downward—past Asher’s trembling abs, past his straining cock—to where Miller’s thick shaft pressed relentlessly against Asher’s ass crack. Jake’s smirk sharpened. "Ash shouldn’t be the only one having fun," he rasped, fingers trailing down Asher’s inner thigh. They brushed past his balls, skimming the sweat-slicked perineum, and settled lightly against his tight hole. A jolt of electric pleasure shot through Asher’s nerves—unexpected, invasive. A ragged groan tore loose from his throat, involuntary and deep. Jake chuckled darkly. "There it is." His fingertip circled the rim—slow, deliberate pressure that made Asher’s abs flex violently.
Jake leaned forward, spat thickly onto his fingers, the sound obscene in the strained silence. Before Asher could react, that slick fingertip pressed hard against his entrance—not teasing, but invading. Asher panicked, thrashing wildly against Miller’s pinning legs. "No! Don’t—!" he choked out, hips bucking desperately. His dark hair whipped across his forehead as he strained, every muscle in his abdomen corded and flexing under sweat-sheened skin. Miller’s forearm tightened across his windpipe, cutting off his air. Jake ignored him, pressing deeper. The spit-slicked finger breached him, stretching the tight ring of muscle. A sharp gasp ripped from Asher—pain and shock and unwanted pleasure all twisting together. His cock pulsed violently against his stomach, dripping precum onto his abs.
Jake worked the finger deeper, twisting it slowly inside Asher’s resisting heat. "Fuck, you’re tight," Jake breathed, watching Asher’s face contort—eyes wide with panic, lips parted in a silent scream. He added a second spit-slicked finger, stretching him wider. Asher arched off Miller’s chest again, a strangled cry escaping as the intrusion burned. Miller’s hips rolled upward beneath him, grinding his own rigid cock harder against Asher’s ass, driving Jake’s fingers deeper with the motion. Jake curled his fingers, searching—then brushed against something deep inside that sent white-hot lightning up Asher’s spine. Asher’s entire body jerked, a guttural moan tearing loose despite himself. Jake’s triumphant grin was savage. "Found it."
He withdrew his fingers abruptly, leaving Asher clenching around nothing. Before Asher could gasp, Jake spat into his palm again and drove three fingers back inside—stretching, twisting, relentless. Asher writhed, pinned and exposed, Miller’s cock grinding beneath him. "Should be good," Jake muttered, glancing down at Miller’s thick shaft pressed against Asher’s cleft. "Coach and I are… average." He twisted his fingers deeper, making Asher gasp. "Relax, Ash. Or this’ll hurt."
Jake pulled his fingers free and leaned under Miller’s hips. He gripped the coach’s thick shaft firmly, uncut and rigid now, veins standing proud beneath olive skin. Without hesitation, Jake lowered his head and took Miller’s cock deep into his mouth. Miller groaned, hips lifting instinctively. Jake worked him fiercely—head bobbing, cheeks hollowing—slicking the shaft with thick spit. The wet sounds filled the room, mingling with Asher’s ragged breathing. Jake pulled off with a slick pop, Miller’s cock gleaming. "Guide me in," Miller commanded, voice rough, eyes locked on Asher’s terrified face. Jake grinned, shifting his grip.
He positioned himself beside Asher’s spread hips. One hand gripped Miller’s slick cock, angling the swollen head directly against Asher’s stretched, quivering hole. Jake’s other hand pinned Asher’s hip firmly to Miller’s grinding thigh. "Deep breath," Jake ordered, not looking at Asher’s face. He pressed Miller’s cockhead hard against the tight ring of muscle. Asher tensed, panic flaring. "Now," Jake growled. With brutal force, he shoved Miller’s hips upward while driving the thick head forward. It breached—a hot, tearing pressure that stole Asher’s breath. Miller’s low groan vibrated beneath him as Jake forced him deeper, inch by slick, burning inch.
Miller’s shaft stretched Asher impossibly wide, filling him with a searing ache that radiated up his spine. Jake held Miller’s hips flush against Asher’s ass, grinding him deep. The coach’s pubic hair scraped Asher’s skin. "Move," Miller commanded, voice thick. He began thrusting—slow, deliberate rolls of his hips that dragged his cockhead over Asher’s prostate with agonizing precision. White-hot sparks exploded behind Asher’s eyelids. Pain and a sickening jolt of pleasure twisted together. He cried out, a ragged sound. Miller’s thrusts deepened, each stroke scraping his inner walls, filling the room with wet, rhythmic slaps of skin. Asher’s vision blurred. Sweat dripped into his eyes. The world narrowed to the relentless invasion below and Jake’s hands pinning him from above.
"Fuck," Miller growled, hips stilling deep inside Asher. He jerked his chin toward Jake. "Service Riley." Jake’s grin was sharp as he shifted. He knelt beside Asher’s head, his own cock bobbing inches from Asher’s mouth—fully erect now. Five inches of flushed, freckled flesh arched upward in a slight curve, the plum-sized head glistening with precum. A sparse trail of ginger pubes curled at the base. Veins snaked along the shaft, pulsing visibly beneath pale skin. The foreskin was pulled taut, exposing the swollen purple ridge. Jake gripped the thick base, angling it toward Asher’s lips. "Open wide, Ash," he breathed, pressing the slick head against Asher’s clenched teeth.
Asher whimpered, delirious from the fullness below. Miller’s cock throbbed inside him. Jake’s head pushed past his lips, stretching his mouth wide. The taste of salt and precum flooded Asher’s mouth. Jake shoved deeper, gagging him instantly. Asher choked, tears streaming as the rigid shaft scraped his palate. Jake’s ginger pubes brushed his nose. The coarse hair tickled. Asher barely registered it—his mind fractured between the cock in his ass and the pressure in his throat. Jake began thrusting shallowly, fucking his mouth with rough, possessive strokes. Spit dripped down Asher’s chin.
Miller’s hips snapped upward again, driving his cock directly against Asher’s prostate. Simultaneously, Jake buried himself to the hilt, grinding his pubic bone against Asher’s lips. The dual assault shattered Asher’s awareness. The sensations consumed him—a white-noise drowning all thought. His body convulsed between them, pinned, as Jake’s thrusts filled his mouth with thick, unyielding heat.
Slowly, the pain in Asher’s ass dissolved into molten waves of pleasure radiating outward. Miller’s relentless rhythm hit his prostate dead-on—a deep, rhythmic pressure that coiled low in his belly. A low groan vibrated against Jake’s cock trapped in his mouth. His hips rocked instinctively downward, grinding against Miller’s thrusts, seeking more of that devastating friction. His own neglected cock throbbed violently against his stomach, dripping more precum onto his sweat-slick abs. The shame evaporated, replaced by a raw, primal hunger that matched the brutal pace. He sucked Jake deeper, tongue swirling instinctively around the invading shaft, drawing a ragged gasp from above him.
Miller abruptly rolled his hips, leveraging his grip on Asher’s wrists. With a powerful twist, he flipped them both sideways. Asher gasped as the world spun—suddenly he was straddling Miller’s hips, the coach’s thick cock still buried deep inside him. Miller’s hands clamped onto Asher’s waist, forcing him upright. "Ride," Miller commanded, voice rough. Asher obeyed, lifting himself slowly, feeling every inch drag deliciously against his inner walls before sinking back down with a choked moan. Miller’s eyes burned into him, dark and approving. Jake knelt beside them, watching Asher’s face intently, stroking his own flushed cock.
"Enough," Miller growled, nodding toward Jake sprawled beside them. "Time for Jake to feel that dick." His grip tightened on Asher’s hips, pulling him off with a slick pop. "Fuck him." Asher scrambled off Miller’s lap, his legs trembling. Jake rolled onto his stomach instantly, knees spreading wide. Asher paused, staring at the exposed tightness of Jake’s asshole, glistening faintly with sweat. A fierce hunger surged through him—a need to dominate, to claim. He spat into his palm, slicking his own thick, aching cock. Positioning himself behind Jake, he gripped the freckled hips hard, lined up his swollen head against the tight ring, and drove his glistening nine inches forward in one sharp thrust. Jake arched off the mat with a sharp cry as Asher buried himself to the hilt.
Miller moved behind Asher, pressing his broad chest against Asher’s sweaty back. One hand gripped Asher’s hip, guiding his thrusts deeper into Jake’s clenching heat. The other hand wrapped around Jake’s now neglected cock, pumping in time with Asher’s rhythm. Asher lost himself in the sensations of the tight heat gripping him and Jake’s choked gasps beneath him. He pistoned his hips relentlessly, driving Jake’s face into the vinyl with each powerful thrust. Miller’s breath was hot against his neck, low words urging him on: "Harder. Deeper. Own him." Asher obeyed, grunting with effort, sweat dripping onto Jake’s arched back as he pounded into the tight, yielding heat.
Jake arched violently, spine taut as a bowstring. "Fuck, Ash!" he gasped, voice muffled against the mat. "Your dick—Christ—so fucking big!" His knuckles whitened where they gripped the vinyl, fingers scrabbling uselessly. "Feels like you’re splitting me open!" Each thrust punched the air from his lungs, forcing ragged moans. "God…yes…fill me!" His hips rocked back desperately, meeting Asher’s plunging cock, the wet slap of skin echoing sharply. "Feels…so…fucking…good!" The confession tore loose as Asher slammed home again, grinding deep.
Coach Miller’s hand tightened on Asher’s hip, forcing him to pause while still buried deep inside Jake. "Switch," Miller commanded, his voice rough and final. He shoved Asher sideways onto the mat. Before Jake could react, Miller flipped him onto his back, hooked his knees over broad shoulders, and drove his own thick cock into Jake’s stretched entrance in one smooth stroke. Jake moaned, back arching off the mat. Miller pinned Jake’s wrists above his head, leaning close. "Better?" he growled, grinding his hips in a slow, deep circle that made Jake whimper. "Ash’s cock stretch you nice and wide for me?" Jake nodded frantically, eyes wide, as Miller began a piston-like rhythm that rocked Jake’s entire body. "Good," Miller rasped, eyes locking onto Asher’s.
Asher scrambled to his knees behind Miller, staring at the powerful flex of the coach’s ass muscles beneath sweat-slick skin. His own cock throbbed, thick and slick with Jake’s heat. Without hesitation, Asher gripped Miller’s hips, lined up his swollen head against the tight hole, and shoved forward hard. Miller grunted, muscles clenching around Asher’s invading length as he bottomed out. The sensation—tight heat clamping down—drew a ragged groan from Asher. Miller didn’t slow his thrusts into Jake. "Fuck me like you mean it, Kovac," he ordered over his shoulder, voice strained. "Or you’re riding the bench all season." Asher obeyed instantly, driving deep with each thrust, matching Miller’s pace. Below them, Jake cried out with every penetration, his cock leaking onto his stomach.
Jake’s eyes rolled back, mouth slack as Miller’s thick shaft plunged relentlessly into him. "Yes…fuck…Coach!" he gasped, hips lifting desperately to meet each stroke. "Harder!" His freckled skin flushed crimson, sweat pooling in the hollow of his throat. Asher pistoned into Miller’s clenching heat. The coach’s powerful body absorbed every thrust, driving him deeper into Jake. The rhythm became a savage counterpoint—Asher pounding Miller, Miller pounding Jake—each stroke amplifying the next. Jake’s choked cries grew higher, frantic. "Gonna…come!" he yelled, fingers clawing at Miller’s forearms pinning his wrists.
Miller leaned down, biting Jake’s shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. "Hold it," he commanded, hips never faltering. His own breath came in harsh rasps, muscles straining beneath Asher’s grip. "Not yet." Jake whimpered, trembling violently, fighting the cresting wave. Miller’s gaze snapped to Asher over his shoulder, eyes dark with primal intensity. "Fuck me like you mean it," he growled. Asher obeyed, slamming forward with brutal force. Miller gasped, head dropping forward as Asher’s massive cock drove deep, grinding against his prostate. The coach’s rhythm stuttered, his own climax visibly coiling tight.
The room was filled with the raw sounds of flesh slapping flesh, choked gasps, and Miller’s low, guttural groans. Jake arched off the mat, a strangled scream tearing loose as Miller’s relentless pace finally shattered his control. Thick ropes of cum spurted across his heaving chest, painting his freckled skin. Miller roared, hips jerking erratically as Jake’s clenching heat triggered his own release. Asher felt the coach’s body convulse around his buried cock, the pulsing heat and tight spasms dragging him violently over the edge. He drove deep one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his own climax ripped through him—a blinding, shuddering release that left him gasping, slumped over Miller’s sweat-slick back.
Slowly, the frantic energy drained away. Miller’s iron grip on Jake’s wrists loosened first, his arms dropping heavily to the mat. Asher pulled out with a slick, wet sound. Miller followed, withdrawing from Jake with a low grunt. Jake whimpered softly, legs slipping from Miller’s shoulders to splay bonelessly on the vinyl, the sudden emptiness jarring. They lay tangled and spent, the air thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and exertion. Only the harsh rasp of their breathing broke the silence now.
Miller was the first to move, rolling onto his back beside Jake. He stared up at the fluorescent lights, chest rising and falling steadily. After a moment, he turned his head, his gaze sweeping over Jake’s trembling, cum-streaked form and Asher’s slumped exhaustion. A slow, satisfied smirk touched his lips. "Not bad," he rasped, voice rough but calm. "For freshmen." He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "You both held your own. Showed grit." His eyes lingered on Asher, a flicker of something unreadable—approval, perhaps—in their depths. "Promising."
Silence settled again, heavy and thick. Jake lay motionless, eyes closed, his breathing slowly evening out. Asher stared at the ceiling tiles, the adrenaline ebbing away to leave a bone-deep fatigue and a strange, hollow ache. Miller’s words hung in the air—a twisted benediction in the aftermath. Promising. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting stark shadows on the three bodies glistening on the mat. The vinyl felt cold and sticky beneath Asher’s skin.
Jake stirred first, turning his head towards Miller. A faint, defiant smirk touched his lips despite the exhaustion etched into his face. "Next time," he rasped, voice raw but clear, "I wanna be the one doing the fucking." He glanced pointedly at Asher, then back at Miller, his gaze challenging. "Not just taking it." The declaration hung in the air, a gauntlet thrown down amidst the lingering scent of sex and sweat.
Jake pushed himself upright with a groan. He stumbled slightly, legs unsteady, but moved with purpose towards the discarded pile of gear near the wall. His pale skin, dusted with fine ginger hair across his calves and thighs, gleamed faintly under the harsh lights. He bent over, the muscles in his lean back flexing as he rummaged, His hole winked, exposed, rivulets of cum dripping down onto his inner thigh. When he straightened, he held Asher’s light blue jockstrap. Without hesitation, Jake stepped into it, pulling the elastic up over his own sweat-slicked hips and ass.
The blue nylon contrasted sharply with Jake’s pale skin and ginger pubes. The pouch strained slightly against his spent cock, a looser fit than it had been on Asher. The straps dug into the freckled skin of his hips, framing the firm, pale globes of his ass. He turned slightly, giving Asher a deliberate view of how the fabric hugged his cheeks. "Huh," Jake mused, running a hand over the blue nylon covering his hip bone, a slow grin spreading. "Maybe this colour is growing on me." He glanced back at Asher, the grin sharpening. "What d'ya think, Ash? Suits me better?"
Asher stared, the hollow ache deepening in his chest. Jake wearing his jockstrap felt like a violation, a claiming beyond what had just happened on the mat. His gaze flicked from the blue fabric stretched over Jake’s ass to Miller’s face. What did this mean? Was he gay? He found himself admiring the curve of Jake’s ass framed by his jockstrap and balked at his own thoughts.
Before Ash could voice his tangled thoughts—disgust, confusion, a flicker of unwanted possessiveness—the metallic scrape of the door latch cut through the humid air. They’d forgotten to lock it. The clock on the wall ticked audibly, hitting 9:00 AM precisely as the knob jiggled violently, then turned.
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