Boink, p.9
Boink, page 9
At this point Coach was talking about anything that came to his mind. He was going on about movies he had seen, people he admired, his ’57 Corvette. I guess he had gotten fairly comfortable, as the stern coach I knew so well had transformed into a jovial guy. Occasionally he would pause as if to reflect on something he was saying. He would momentarily stop the massage with his hand firmly resting on my ass. Then he would snap out of it and act as if nothing had happened, resuming to talk and massage my leg.
* * *
My back arched and my head shot up at his first touch. But he was strong and in control. The warmth from the friction of his hands on my leg sent a heat wave throughout my body.
* * *
I wasn’t sure what to think. I was young and confused about my life. I had my college courses and football to help keep me focused, but sometimes I just felt so uncertain about who I was and what I was doing. I had a girlfriend, but when we weren’t arguing it seemed as if we were just going through the motions of being a couple. I went to parties and did other typical college things, but I only half enjoyed them. Something seemed to be missing.
I was lost in thought when Coach slapped my butt and told me I was all set. I spun around and sat up on the table, my bare ass pressed against the silvery metal. The towel hung very loose, as Coach had nearly torn it off, and I moved my hands to secure it once again on my left hip. It wasn’t until then that I noticed I had a full-fledged boner. It shot straight through the towel. I quickly moved the towel to cover my erection, but it still looked like a tiny pup tent. I abashedly moved my head up to see Coach looking right at me, or rather at it. He held his glance for a moment as I sat frozen, unable to move or speak. Then he averted his eyes and set the massage lotion on a shelf.
* * *
Even though I was having sex with my girlfriend, all I could think about was Coach Donaldson.
* * *
“Okay, Matthews,” he said, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t celebrate too much tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow morning for film.”
He walked out of the room leaving me in shock and utter embarrassment. My mind instantly began to go over what had just happened. I couldn’t believe it. I had gotten a hard-on right in front of Coach Donaldson! Had I enjoyed the massage that much, in that kind of way? But wasn’t he the one feeling my ass? Or was he? I got dressed as fast as I could and bolted out of the locker room without saying anything to Coach, who was in his office and out of my view. I wondered what he could possibly be thinking, and I dreaded having to see him again.
I called my girlfriend as soon as I got to my room and told her I was coming over. I was feeling antsy and had to take my mind off Coach Donaldson. She was a sophomore like me and had a single room to herself in an all-girls dormitory. She used to say how great it was going to be, how we could have as much sex as we wanted without having to worry about a roommate barging in. But that didn’t end up being the case. If we weren’t bickering about something, I was usually too tired from early practice and a full day of classes to even think about sex.
That night I was more wound up than usual. I kept asking her dumb questions and fidgeting with random items in her room. I finally reached out and yanked her onto the bed beside me. I was acting more out of reflex than an actual desire for sex. I kissed her and put my hand on her breast. It was no more arousing than holding a water balloon. Yet I proceeded anyway. Soon I was on top of her, fucking away as hard as I could. But I was thinking about other things; it was like she wasn’t even there. All I could think about was Coach Donaldson. I thought of the caring and humorous side hidden beneath the tough exterior. It made me curious about him. I wondered what he was like, what else he did when he wasn’t coaching. Then I thought of his hand moving forcefully over my leg, resting on my ass. Yes, Coach had his hand planted firmly on my ass, and I liked it! There was no doubt about it. But what did this mean? Was I gay? Bi? I’d had fantasies before but just dismissed them as the fucked up thoughts of a crazy, horny kid. The possibility of me being gay was never seriously considered. So I was deeply conflicted about these feelings. Then my mind brought me back into the room with Coach Donaldson. I thought about my ass cheeks being exposed to him and got thoroughly turned on. I thought about getting an enormous hard-on right in front of him, and at that moment I pulled out of my girlfriend and exploded like never before, drenching her face from hip-level.
The next day, I walked in about five minutes late for the game film. They had already started so I inconspicuously took a seat in the back. Coach was his old gruff self, shouting about what we should have done on every other play. I was hardly paying attention to the film, though. I was too nervous thinking about what it was going to be like when I spoke with Coach again. I made the decision to find out another time. I was too scared to face him, so made a B-line for the door as soon as post-mortem session ended. I was two steps beyond the door when I heard that deep voice bellow out from the crowded room.
“Matthews!”
My stomach began to do somersaults. I stuck my head back through the door, my teammates heckling me under their breath as they passed.
“Yeah, Coach?”
“I want to work that hamstring a little more today. Hop in the whirlpool for ten minutes, then get on the table. Anyone else who’s still tight from the game, line up behind Matthews. We’re not taking any chances on injuries this week.”
I got a lot of smirks, and unsurprisingly no one chose to join me for a massage. Kennedy never came in on Sunday and most people would rather wash dirty jockstraps than go on the table with Coach.
I sat in the whirlpool with the jets on my sore muscle, contemplating the situation. Was Coach sincere in wanting to guard against injuries before the next game? After all, he did ask everyone if they needed to be loosened up. I wondered if Coach would mention yesterday’s events. Despite my apprehension, I was mildly excited. It had felt pretty good. I mean, it definitely turned me on. But what if I got another hard-on? Oh Christ! Coach couldn’t ignore it a second time.
I reluctantly dried off and moseyed into the massage room. Everyone had left immediately after film, so it was just Coach and me in the locker room. I was already on the table when he marched in. He asked me if I celebrated much last night as he slapped massage lotion around in his hands. Again, this was a different side of Coach than I was used to seeing. He never would have asked about my private life before. I actually ended up telling him about my troubled relationship and a few other things that were bothering me. To my surprise, he listened intently and concernedly, and even offered a little reassuring advice.
He continued to work the muscle and had moved the towel, without bothering to ask, to the same position it was yesterday, half covering my ass. I thought I felt his hand start to graze my butt cheek again, and I did all I could to resist getting a hard-on.
“How does that feel, Matthews?” Coach asked, I assumed referring to my hamstring. “It’s not uncomfortable, is it?”
“No, Coach,” I responded. “It feels pretty good.”
“Well, you let me know if it gets too uncomfortable, okay?”
“Okay, Coach.”
With that I felt his warm hand move assuredly up my leg, under the towel, and start to firmly massage my smooth, round butt. There was no doubt about what he was doing this time. I felt the towel being completely removed, and watched it dangle off the sides of the table down towards the floor. I lay there completely nude, my hard-on nearly lifting me off the table. Coach had moved from my legs to my midsection, and he confidently worked his hands from my neck all the way down my naked body to my lower legs.
“You sure that feels okay, Matthews?”
“Yeah, Coach,” I smiled as I answered him. “It feels good.”
“You know, most guys wear underwear when they come in for massage. Not you though.”
He laughed to himself, and I laughed too. I hadn’t thought about it. Maybe I did it because I unconsciously liked being naked around other men. Whatever the reason, I stopped thinking about it as I felt Coach’s lips press into my firm ass. He worked his tongue and lips around my butt while his hands continued to graze over my back and legs. Then I felt his kisses move slowly but with definite purpose towards the center. He pulled my cheeks apart and I felt his wet, slithery tongue tickle my asshole. A shockwave of delight coursed through my body as his tongue circled, glided over, then penetrated my asshole. I jerked forward and back and then, to my surprise, slammed my hand down on Coach’s head, pressing it into my ass, I was so overcome with pleasure.
After a few minutes of exhilarating tongue work, he stood up and told me to turn over. I did so willingly, and we both watched my erection spring to life as I planted my ass on the table. He moved his right hand over my upper body feeling my arms, chest, and nipples while his left hand caressed my inner thigh. He confessed that he had wanted to do this the previous day, and said he had always had a feeling about me. He admitted that he did take liberties with my ass yesterday, and that he wanted to devour me when he saw my erection. I told him I wished he had, but that this would more than make up for it.
* * *
I felt the towel being completely removed, and watched it dangle off the sides of the table down towards the floor. I lay there entirely nude, my erection nearly lifting me off the table.
* * *
He leaned forward and kissed me. His coarse lips gently glided over mine, and then his tongue pressed forward, parted my lips and met mine warm, wet in my mouth. I reached out with both arms and held on to him, pulling him forward. Our tongues continued to swirl, as if engaged in a dance. His left hand had made its way up my thigh and was now caressing and massaging my balls. I took one of my hands from around his back and pressed it to the front of his pants. Coach was enormous, as I could feel a bulge a third of the way down his thigh.
He stepped back and looked at me. We both smiled at each other but said nothing. He bent forward and kissed my cheek, ears, and neck. I tingled all over. He worked his way down my chest, stopping to do plenty of work on my nipples. I felt the trail of moist kisses run down my taut stomach until he reached my cock. He bent it to the side and kissed from the base slowly up to the head. He bent it back and flicked my balls with his tongue, then made his way up the underside of my shaft, now glistening with saliva. I was already about to explode when he took my head in his mouth. He worked his mouth on it for a bit before engulfing my entire cock. My neck snapped back in painful ecstasy as he moved his mouth rhythmically up and down my cock.
Suddenly Coach jerked his head up as we thought we heard something outside the room. It was only the heater turning on, but Coach said we should move into his office if we wanted to continue, just in case someone did come in. I heartily agreed and he took my hand and led me into his office.
* * *
He locked the door behind him and we immediately embraced, lips interlocking. I helped him to get his shirt off and admired his physique. He was twice as old as me but still had a brawny, muscular figure.
* * *
He locked the door behind him and we immediately embraced, lips interlocking. I helped him to get his shirt off and admired his physique. He was twice as old as me but still had a brawny, muscular figure. He had tanned skin and a fairly hairy chest. I put my hand on it and ran my fingers through his golden-brown chest hair, taking the time to kiss and lick his tight, pointy nipples. Imitating him, I then dropped to my knees, kissing him all the way down his thick, tight belly. I kneeled at eye-level with his cock and rubbed it through his pants. I still couldn’t believe how big it was, and I was strangely excited to have the chance to suck my first dick. I bit on it through his pants then rubbed it some more before opening the button and undoing his fly. He said I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to, and I told him there was no way he was going to stop me. I pulled down his pants and his cock shot up like a spring, though it was the size of a ripe cucumber. It had only a mild upward curve and was smooth, almost no veins, because it was so thick. I told him I couldn’t believe how big it was, and he just laughed and told me to enjoy it. And that I did.
I began by kissing his smooth domed head then proceeded to kiss all the way down the side until I felt bristly pubic hairs swirling in my mouth, the light brown tuft brushing against my cheek. I was so overjoyed I rubbed his cock with glee all over my face, and began to slap it against my cheeks. I then reared back and had a good look at the obelisk of hardened flesh, closed my eyes, and took his cock as far in as it could go. I got about halfway over it before I felt the head hit the back of my throat. It was so thick it filled my entire mouth. It was my first cock so I was extra conscious about doing a good job. I tucked my lips over my teeth and curved my tongue to slide perfectly along its underside. I sucked in so my cheeks glided against his shaft’s smooth sides, and proceeded to move my head back and forth. I don’t know how long I did it for, but I could have gone on forever. It felt like nothing before, to have my mouth stuffed full of hard cock. From that point on, there was no going back.
Coach finally warned me that he was going to come. I moved my face inches from his cock and continued to stroke away, my hand brushing up against his coarse pubic hairs. He groaned and a huge load of white, gooey cum exploded from the tip of his cock. The first shot hit me on the cheek and I moved in closer. My nose and lips also got doused before I put my mouth back over it to sop up the rest of his juices. I stood up feeling somewhat proud at the pleasure I had given, and more fulfilled than ever before in my life. We stayed in his office talking for some time, kissing and fondling all the while. I went to Coach’s house that night, where we continued right where we left off.
Needless to say, I broke up with my girlfriend shortly thereafter. I had found a much more satisfying relationship.
I spent a lot of time at Coach’s house over the next two years. And I found out what he did when he wasn’t coaching. He did me. I always visited him after games, and most other nights for that matter. Sometimes I would only spend a few hours, usually having great sex. I also spent many nights there, wrapped in Coach Donaldson’s arms. I was voted captain my senior year and we would talk strategy, intertwined and naked in his Jacuzzi. We would always joke about who we thought were sexiest amongst the new recruits, and whose dicks we would most like to suck. It was great fun to be able to change and shower with a group of guys and then have someone to relive the fantasy with. I used to kid him that he had the best job, watching a new set of hot bodies year after year. He would just smile as if to say “you sure are right.”
We spent a lot of time together, and had a lot of great sex, but I never expected it to last beyond graduation. He always remained the older, more experienced guy, sort of a mentor. I continued to call him Coach and would often go to him for advice about my problems and other things. I wondered if Coach had other guys like me, if he found someone new every couple of years. I kind of figured he did and I couldn’t really blame him. Hell, I was glad. He made my college years some of the best of my life.
I sighed and put the paper down, reached over to Ryan, and pulled him toward me. I planted my lips on his and moved my hand onto his cock, feeling it swell in my grasp.
“We better take care of this so you can get some sleep,” I said. “It’s getting late and you need to be up early in the morning.”
He was, after all, the star runner on my track team. I couldn’t have him up all night and tired for the big race tomorrow. He looked into my eyes and smiled.
“You’ll get no argument from me, Coach.”
My Penis
by RENÉ-MARA
LARGE PRIVATE UNIVERSITY
I GREEDILY SCOUR THE INTERNET for free porn. I masturbate every chance I get. I emotionally detach myself from the people I am sexually involved with. And I am a NOT a guy. Though I am missing the Y chromosome, when forced to define myself sexually, I must admit that I am “manly.” I find myself wondering: how much of my sexual identity defines the way I perceive myself?
* * *
Through no fault of my parents, who incidentally are great people, I grew up repressing my sexuality.
* * *
Through no fault of my parents, who incidentally are great people, I grew up repressing my sexuality. It would be both convenient and fashionable to blame my past sexual woes on “the oppressive nature of society,” even though the word “society” becomes meaningless with such careless use. The true reason behind my repression was much worse: ego. I was a conceited elitist, forever seeking ways to rise above everyone around me. Sexuality represented a baseness that I wanted to avoid, allowing me to ultimately look down on those not as morally enlightened as myself. So, I hid behind the veil of being straight edge. I was Catholic at the time.
Yeah, I was an asshole.
Within the span of one year—that being, of course, my freshman year of college—I awkwardly worked my way through sexual discovery, complete with the wonderfully clichéd drunken hookup that culminated in the loss of my virginity. It also, unfortunately, led to the disintegration of an important relationship with my cousin. A few words of advice: if your cousin comes to visit you from Texas with his devastatingly handsome loser of a friend, it is probably not a good idea to fuck the friend, multiple times, with your cousin in the room one of those times, and then deny it.
