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Football Coach Shower Suck

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The story happend when I was in my collage days. The football practice was over. Within three weeks, the twenty- eight adolescents would be in peak physical and mental condition. The youths were drilled in running speed and endurance, throwing and catching, strength of body and mind. Every ounce of energy -- and then some -- was drained, until everyone was exhausted. Finally, the coach gave in to the protests, calling the team to gather around before allowing them to head for the locker room. Coach Williams, a retired blocker in professional football, was a monster of a man, standing six foot two inches tall and weighing about two hundred pounds. His body was rock solid, his piercing blue eyes dealt a fatal gaze, and his fiery red hair reflected his blazing desire to win at all costs. His 'pep' talk, as usual, was actually a severe chastisement: "OK fellas', that's it for today. But remember that during a game, you've got to push and push and push. The minute you start whining and complaining you lose. And if you lose, you're nothing but a loser. Now get cleaned up. Dismissed!" The youths filed towards the change room, heads bowed in shame for disappointing their coach. There was little talk. There was no back-slapping or joking. They knew to wait until victory was theirs to celebrate. Until then, they would train intensely. Once they entered the locker room, Coach Williams headed for his office. The players pulled off their jerseys, bulky shoulder pads, spiked shoes, and soiled socks. The locker room was steaming hot because the small space was crowded by twenty-eight sweaty lads. One by one, their stained pants were striped away to reveal twenty-eight tight jock straps, supporting boy cocks and boy balls, each set a unique shape and size. The youths took turns in the showers, as there were only six nozzles in the claustrophobic, tiled chamber. Naturally, the older, bigger and stronger players showered first, pushing to the front of the line. There was much laughing and gossiping, some jostling and towel flicking. As usual, being the youngest player, I was the last into the shower. A 18 year old , an offensive running back because of my diminutive height and agile footwork which allowed me to run quickly and avoid defensive tackling. As I stepped under the flowing water, the other players were already drying off, dressing and departing. Within minutes, I was alone in the showers and the locker room. Without warning, Coach Williams entered the showers, whistling a tune, with his towel slung over his shoulder. He always waited until all the youths were gone to take his shower. He always locked the change room door, not wanting to get himself into an uncomfortable or compromising situation. He also wanted to jack off, relieving the sexual tension which escalated during each practice as he saw the youths tackling and wrestling each other to the ground. The coach, hearing the flow of water, had assumed that one shower had been left running by a careless player. The coach was surprised to find me, temporarily blinded by shampoo suds, still showering. Coach Williams stood quietly, studying the lad's physique. I was like a tank, perhaps five and a half feet tall and about one-hundred sixty pounds in weight. My skin was rosy pink and smooth; my pectorals and buttocks were shapely and rounded mounds. My penis was perhaps two inches long, limp as a wet noodle, and my two acorn-sized nuts were contained in his hairless, wrinkled ball-sack. Feeling a stirring in his loins, and fearing discovery by me, Coach Williams hung his towel on a wall-hook, stepped to the opposite corner of the shower chamber and turned on the water. He could wait until I left to jack off. So coach began to soap his chest and arms, his armpits and his legs. As he turned around to wash his back, he realized that I was watching him. I averted his eyes and continued to rinse off my back, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. But Coach Williams was witness to my excitement, for my boy cock stood at attention, a three and a half inch erection. The coach's physique -- probably his ass and low-hanging balls -- turned me on who was in no hurry to leave, providing the coach with a seductive 'peep show.' I was willing to show all of myself because of my desire to see more of Coach Williams' physique, having caught only a few glimpses of the manly cock and muscular, hairy chest and back. As I facing the wall, generously lathered up and down the crack of my ass. Coach Williams could no longer control his swelling cock. Though four inches when limp, the coach's cock was now an eight inch throbing erection. Of course, the middle-aged coach's crotch was covered with a thick carpet of red-brown pubic hair. When I turned back, to sneak another peek at Coach Williams, I found himself starring straight at his coach's chest ...right next to me. "I noticed you looking at me." "No, I wasn't..." I stuttered, nervous when caught in a lie. "I promise, I swear..." "Don't lie to me, Kenny, or I'll whip your sorry ass. Besides, I like you looking at me...but only if I can look at you. "Huh? But everyone else..." Coach Williams whispered, barely audibly, "The door's locked. You don't have to worry. It's just me and you." His hand drifted down to gently stroke my hard-on. "Oh...Coach!" The I shuddered, feeling my knees weaken from the immediate pleasure. I also reached forward to explore his coach's massive cock, with one hand, as I massaged the pair of huge nuts in coach's low-hanging, furry ball-sack. Coach Williams asked, "Have you ever been sucked off?" "No." "Would you like to be?" My jaw dropped open, as I was speechless. Without receiving a verbal answer, Coach Williams dropped to his knees, as if worshipping my puny prick. Leaning forward, the coach first sucked one tiny nut into his mouth, then licked the other. Following my urging grunts, Coach William's shifted his attention to the three and a half inch cock. The sweetness of my pre-cum surprised the coach, who fell into a rhythm, slid up and down the cock, engulfing the whole length each descent. He twirled his tongue around the my rection. Coach Williams grasped my ass cheeks, pulling me forward to increase the pace. To compound the effect of his sucking and licking, the coach slowly prodded at my asshole, forcing one finger in the tight crack. Coach Williams' finger was massaging my prostate. I was loosing control - and quickly -- because of the sucking in front and the finger fucking in back. With a moan of satisfaction and a grunt of exertion, my orgasm exploded within and without. Coach Williams slurped up every drop of my warm, sticky, sweet boy-juice which flooded his mouth. I collapsed forward, bucking my hips out of control, the wind knocked from my lungs, and my mind clouded and disoriented. Without warning, Coach Williams stood up, grabbed his towel and left the showers. I was shocked and alone. I then left the showers and headed for my locker. There, I dried himself off, got dressed, brushed my hair and packed my bag. When I was just about to leave, I heard the coach calling me into his office. Upon entering the cramped, dimly lit office, I noticed that Coach Williams sat naked in his leather easy chair behind the imposing oak desk. The coach indicated that I should close the door and have a seat. I followed those directions, waiting patiently for Coach Williams to speak. After a lapse of silence, the coach asked, "You realize, Kenny that you can't tell anyone about what we did?" I agreed that it would be best, but I accused, "You never gave me the chance to return the favour, Coach." Coach was surprised. "I had no idea you were willing!" "Well," I said slyly, as I stood and walked to the door, "I'll see you in the showers...tommorow." Coach Williams decided to wait until the next day, in the showers with me, to relieve the fullness and tightness of his ball-sack. But that is another story.

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