Originally published in Playguy magazine - October, 1991
It's two gymnasts up against one tyrannical coach!
"Pardon?" I looked up from my gym bag and got an eyeful of a well-stuffed jock pouch. My eyes followed a trail of red hair that ran up over a washboard belly, then between a set of pecs that bulged out thick and tight, until I was finally looking the guy who had spoken to me in the eyes.
"Tad Baker," the redhead said, sticking his big hand out to me. "You're new around here, aren't you?"
"Mark Simmons," I replied, shaking his hand. "I didn't get registered in time to start fall quarter, so I've got some catching up to do."
"Gymnast, right?" Tad questioned, looking me over appraisingly.
"Good guess," I grinned back at him. "I figure I'd better keep it up now that I'm in college, just so I won't go to seed while I'm hitting the books."
"Not much danger of that, from the looks of it," he said. "You've got the perfect build for it--strong but not too bulked up. I'm too big to be serious about it, but I like the workout."
"You look like a football player to me," I said, looking at his broad shoulders.
"Too rough," he replied, shaking his head. "Besides, I'd rather just compete with myself, if you know what I mean."
He slipped into his shorts and sat on the bench to tie his shoes. "Have you met the gymnastics coach yet?" he asked, looking back up at me.
"Not yet," I replied, pulling on my workout shirt and closing my locker. "What's he like?"
"Well," Tad began, lowering his voice to a whisper and looking around to be sure no one was within earshot, "to tell the truth, Coach James is a regular hard-ass. He's got the personality of a pit bull and about as much patience. I'd give him a wide berth if I were you. He's also got some pretty strange ideas about discipline."
"Oh, yeah?" I looked at him curiously. "What's the dirt?"
"Well ..." Ted immediately clammed up as a fist slammed against the end of the row of lockers.
"You've both got about ten seconds to be on the floor--or else!"
I looked up to see where the gruff baritone voice was coming from. A big hulk of a man loomed at the end of the row. He looked to be about forty-five or so-his wiry black hair shot through with gray at the temples-and in spectacular physical condition. He was wearing a pair of shorts and an old sweatshirt with the arms ripped out, showing off his thick legs and brawny arms to their best advantage. His legs and forearms were covered with dark hair which did nothing to hide their sculpted musculature. His calves appeared to be as big as my thighs, for chrissake! The glowering expression of his craggy face told me right away he was serious about what he had just said.
"Yes, sir!" Tad replied, scrambling to his feet and slamming his locker.
"Coach James?" I whispered, following him out of the locker room.
"None other," Tad nodded. "Good luck, Mark." With that he broke into a run and took the steps up to the gym three at a time.
I breezed through the laps and the calisthenics that Coach James demanded of the entire class. Then I went over to the parallel bars and started the warm-up routine that I had worked out for myself. I'd been at it for about five minutes when I became aware that Coach James was watching me. He lumbered across the gym and stood at the end of the bars, his arms folded over his broad chest, a humorless smirk playing around the corners of his sensual mouth. It was too bad he was evidently such a jerk, because he sure as hell was handsome. Just looking at him was getting me turned on. I've always had a hard-on for older men, and Coach James was the answer to my wettest dream.
"Hi, Coach," I said, finishing my routine and flipping off the bars, landing about a foot in front of him.
"Think you're pretty hot shit, don't you?" he sneered, looking at me like I was some kind of insect that had just crawled out from under a pile of rotting garbage.
"Uh ... no, sir," I gulped, my face getting all hot as I blushed violently. "I was just warming up."
"Well, Simmons." He paused and looked me up and down. "That is your name, isn't it?"
"Mark Simmons," I shot back, my temper rising dangerously.
"Well them, Mark Simmons," he growled, saying my name with biting sarcasm, "I'd suggest that you get over your ideas of being a hot shot and stick to the routines as they're set out for everyone else. You know the standard warm-ups, don't you?"
"Sure," I sullenly muttered. "I think they're pretty boring, that's all."
"Boring?" The light in his gray eyes flashed wickedly. "Well, I sure wouldn't want you to be bored, Mark Simmons. Just to get you off to a good start, why don't you do about a hundred sit-ups for me?"
"Are you kidding?" I shot back at him before I could control my tongue, immediately wishing I could retract my words.
"Yes, now!" he roared, his big hands balling into fists, and veins in his temples starting to throb.
"Yes, sir!" I said, dropping to the mat. I had obviously stepped over the bounds and I figured I was really in for it. Clasping my hands behind my head, I went to work.
Tad had been right about this dude being a strict disciplinarian. I hated sit-ups. I could get the same effect with my warm-up routine, so I rarely did any. When I had finished, I sprang to my feet and looked the coach in the eye, my chest heaving.
"Now then, Simmons, you stick to a standard routine on the bars--understood?"
"Yes, Coach," I panted. He looked at me for a long moment, then turned on his heel and went in search of new victims. I hated the bastard right then, but that didn't stop the tingle of lust in my gut. I stared at his broad back until he was halfway across the room. Then I hopped back on the bars and got busy.
I stuck with the basics for the better part of the next hour. Of course I was bored brainless. But every time I thought of varying the routine, the prospect of another bout of calisthenics killed the impulse to show off.
Finally, the session was finishing up and I was ready to dismount. I looked up and saw that Tad, the sexy redhead from the locker room, was looking my way. I flashed him a grin and quickly scanned the room, looking for Coach James. He wasn't in sight, so I dipped down on the bars, lifted my legs till they were parallel with the floor, then pushed up with all my strength, doing a pretty fancy flip with my dismount. Tad smiled his approval, did a handstand on the rings and somersaulted to the mat with a flourish. I winked at him and picked up my towel, more than ready to hit the showers.
By the time Tad and I got down to the locker room, the showers were full. It was Friday night and most of the guys were in a big hurry to get ready for dates so they could pursue their never-ending quest for pussy. Tad didn't seem to be in any rush and neither was I, so we hung back, letting the other guys get in and out. By the time we finally hit the shower room, the place had completely emptied out. After a final flurry of slamming lockers and shouted goodbyes, we had the whole place to ourselves.
"I think I must've pulled something," Tad said as he stood under a water jet, trying to massage a kink between his shoulder blades. It was right at the place in the center of your back where you just can't get at it, no matter how hard you try.
"You need an extra pair of hands," I offered.
"I sure would appreciate it, Mark," he replied, looking over his shoulder.
I stepped over toward him and put my hands on his brawny back. He was solid muscle, head to toe. I rubbed his back till I found one area that was harder than the rest. Then I dug in, determined to help him get some relief.
"That's the spot," he moaned softly. "Oh, yeah, man. Shit, that feels good."
I stood behind him, close enough to count the freckles that sprinkled his back and neck. Looking down, I also had a great view of his ass. It bulged back toward me like a couple of ripe melons, covered with a downy red fuzz that was almost invisible until it got wet. The thought crossed my mind that it would probably tickle real good against my belly if I rubbed against him. But those were the kinds of thoughts that led directly to hard-ons, so I stared at the tiles beyond his shoulder and tried to concentrate on what I was doing.
Tad started washing himself while I was still massaging his back. He raised his hands to his neck, treating me to a dynamite close-up of his thick biceps. The muscles in his neck and shoulders shifted and flexed tantalizingly under the skin as he washed his upper body. Then my heart started to beat faster and I could feel the blood surge to my cock.
Finally Tad finished washing his upper body and got down to soaping his crotch and thighs, bending over slightly as he reached lower and lower. Then his hands slipped around to his ass and he started soaping his crack. The first time I felt his fingers brush my cock, I muffled a gasp and stepped back. But the second time he did it, I figured it wasn't an accident, so I stayed where I was. Sure enough, the third time his stubby fingers curled around the thick shaft and gave it a gentle squeeze. Then I leaned forward and nuzzled his beefy neck, my hands slipping to his chest so I could get a firm grip on his massive pecs.
"So, you do like to play with boys," Tad remarked, turning around and putting his hands on my waist. "I thought you'd never catch on."
"I'm the shy type," I replied with a leer, cupping his fuzzy buns and squeezing them roughly.
"Like to suck cock?" he continued, pulling me tighter, his fat meat pressing between my legs, getting harder by the second.
"Nothing better," I agreed, rubbing his butt against my palms. I started to drop to my knees so I could show him just how much I liked it, but he held me where I was.
"I wanna suck you, too," he whispered seductively, "but I don't want to get down on that slimy floor."
"So?" I shrugged.
"So this!" Tad tightened his grip and before I knew it, he had flipped me upside down and I was staring at a pair of egg-sized balls, covered with short red fuzz. His lips closed over the head of my meat and his tongue got busy poking at my cum-hole. Then I braced my hands on his bulging thighs and got down to business, sucking both his nuts deep into my throat.
His soapy balls squirmed around in their bag, doing their best to get away from me while his cockhead nudged at my throat, dripping hot honey. It was the first time I'd ever sucked a dick while hanging upside down with my legs around a guy's neck, but it was a hell of a turn-on. My chest fit perfectly into the hollow of his hard belly; his pubes tickling my chin. I played with his balls till they started knotting up on me. Then I pulled back my head and got on his prong, expertly deep-throating it.
Ted was leaking like crazy, his drool slick and salty in my mouth. I ran my tongue all along his swollen juice-tube, then traced the veins along his shaft from cap to bush and back again. The steady pressure of his rhythmic sucking was making my toes curl and I knew that I wasn't too far from blowing my wad. He was getting up there himself, judging by the way his hips were starting to pump. I increased the pressure, sucking greedily. Then, convinced he wasn't going to drop me on my head, I gave up on bracing my hands on his legs and started exploring his tight ass.
His perineum formed a hard thick ridge all the way back to his asshole. I fingered this bulge with one hand, teasing at his tight ball sack, while my other hand started probing his fuck-hole. When my fingertips made contact with the tight pucker, the damned thing opened up and practically sucked the entire digit in! His internal heat and softness put me over the edge and I tensed up as the cum started to boil out of me and shoot down his throat. Then I found his joy knob and poked at it with my finger, making him shudder and shoot his wad as well.
His first blast gushed into my mouth, damn near choking me. I greedily swallowed his pungent cream, doing my damnedest not to waste even one drop. Tad gripped me fiercely around the waist, his sucking never slowing down 'til I was drained dry and my prick had started to go soft. I finally let his boy-toy slip out of my mouth and just hang there, head down, my fingers brushing the floor tiles.
"Thanks," I mumbled, when Tad had my feet back on the floor. "I really needed that today."
"Me too," Tad nodded in agreement.
"Why don't we go get something to eat?"
"You're on, dude," I said, turning off the shower and heading back into the locker room. Tad followed right behind and we both started to work the combinations on the old lockers. Neither one of us had made it to the final number before Coach James came around the corner, a thirst for blood showing in his eyes.
"In the office, both of you," he gruffly barked. "I mean right now."
Tad shot me a look, then meekly followed Coach James back to his cluttered cubbyhole of an office. The desk was pushed back under a small window. As we entered, still naked and dripping wet, Coach James stood at the door, impatiently slapping his big thigh. If he noticed how red our well-exercised cocks still were, he didn't give any indication. He slammed the door behind us and started pacing back and forth across the small room.
"I saw you two fucking off at the end of practice," he growled, turning to face us, arms hanging loose at his sides. Even relaxed, the veins on his biceps and forearms stood out sharply. In these close quarters, you couldn't help but feel his heat and energy. When I took a breath, I could smell him--a combination of acrid sweat and cum that made me shake with something besides apprehension.
"I'm sorry, Coach," Tad muttered, his face going red.
"You know the drill, Baker," Coach shouted threateningly. "Assume the position."
I watched in fascination as Tad stepped over to the desk and leaned forward, bracing his arms wide apart, thrusting his gorgeous ass out temptingly. Coach braced one hand in the middle of Tad's back and with the other began to caress Tad's butt. I looked on in disbelief, not sure just exactly what the hell his game was.
I didn't have to wait long to find out. Suddenly, he raised his hand high in the air and lowered it with all his great strength. Tad collapsed against the top of the desk as the sharp smack rang out in the small room. But the coach raised his hand again, took careful aim and made a solid contact with Tad's other cheek, leaving behind a perfect imprint of his big paw.
I couldn't believe that Tad was just standing there, taking it. I could see the muscles in his back and legs tense up as the coach continued spanking him 'til his ass cheeks were glowing scarlet. His knuckles, where he was grasping the edge of the desk, were stark white. I stood there like a statue, watching the scene play itself out, till I heard Tad begin to whimper. Then, I sprang to action, finally ready to defend my new buddy.
"Leave him alone, you stupid jerk," I snarled, grabbing at Coach James's upraised arm.
He spun around, a startled look on his face.
"You stop hurting my friend," I continued, grabbing at the neck of his sweatshirt with my free hand. I gave it a yank, hoping to pull him away long enough to give Tad time to run. The shirt ripped instead, exposing his hairy chest. Even though I hated his guts at that moment, I couldn't help but gasp at the sight of his body. The hair on his chest grew flat against his skin, exposing his big nipples. They were dark red, like his lips, and drawn up into tight, meaty points. His belly was furry as well, feathering out from a dense trail of silky curls down the middle, to a light dusting of fuzz at the sides. Below his navel the mat fanned out as it approached his pubes.
One quick glance at his crotch made it pretty obvious that he was getting off on spanking poor Tad. An enormous bulge ran from his crotch, pointing over toward his left hip. There was already a small wet spot marking his leaky cum-hole.
"I think you need this discipline more than Baker does," the big man growled, spinning me quickly around and pinning my arms to my sides as he held me close with one arm. I could feel his cock-head pressing against my ass and I started getting turned on--in spite of my fear and agitation.
"Tad," I pleaded, "help me, for chrissake!"
Tad slowly stood and turned around to face me. He had a a shit-eating grin plastered over his face and his prick was so hard it was standing up tight against his belly. The cum-hole was distended and his honey was dribbling out with every heartbeat, running down the swollen shaft and dripping off his balls onto the floor. He climbed up onto the desk and knelt there, thighs spread wide.
"Give me that mouth again, buddy," he said hoarsely. "Suck my dick!"
Coach's breath was hot on my neck and his fingers were splayed out over my gut, kneading the tight ridges of muscle. Letting me go, he pushed me over to the desk. Then Tad grabbed my shoulders and pulled my face down to his crotch; the smell of him had me turned on in an instant and I licked his big balls eagerly.
I felt Coach's hand on my ass, eagerly fingering my crack. Then I tensed up like a clenched fist as his hand delivered a sharp smack to my butt. I gasped in pain and my face came crashing into Tad's belly as my hips slammed into the edge of the desk. Tad guided my mouth to the knob on the end of his prong as the coach's hand made contact again. This time the pain was translated into heat that rushed quickly to my belly, making my nuts tingle.
"Oh, yeah," Tad groaned as I went down on his fat shaft. "Suck me, Mark. Suck me 'til my head caves in!"
I pushed forward 'til my nose was buried in his dense pubes, wiggling my ass in a futile effort to avoid the blows the coach was administering to my burning butt. But I could hear him behind me, panting raggedly as he whipped me 'til my ass felt like it was on fire.
Suddenly he stopped, then reached between my legs and grabbed my pecker. It throbbed in his hand, so hard it felt like it was going to bust. I hadn't even realized I had popped a stiffer--all of my attention had been focused on my ass!
The coach chuckled wickedly and I looked back to see what he was up to this time. As I watched, he lowered his shorts and his monster meat slapped down against my ass crack. The fucker was at least ten inches long and thick as a beer bottle. He spit on the head and rubbed it in, mingling it with his own free-flowing juices. I started to protest, but Tad pulled my head around and guided his cock back into my mouth. Then I grabbed his waist and tried to brace myself for the inevitable.
I felt the Coach's big fuck muscle battering against my chute a couple of times. Then he smacked my ass hard and he was in, feeding me dick as fast as I could take it. Next he slipped his hands up along my sides 'til he got to my chest. Then he started pinching my tits, roughly squeezing and twisting them.
It was no accident that he'd hit my weak spot. I raised my ass and pushed back, not stopping 'til I felt his dense bush scratching my smooth cheeks.
After that, the three of us moved like a single, horny beast--each thrust filling me at both ends.
Coach's cock-head kept battering my joy knob on every stroke, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through me, curling my toes. I sucked on Tad's spout like a madman and he soon rewarded me with another mouthful of his scum--all hot and thick and salty.
My asshole clenched around Coach's spike like a velvet vise and I started blowing my load down the side of his desk. A squeal rushed up from my throat as I writhed beneath him, feeling every hot, veiny inch of his meat. It churned my guts to jelly. Then the coach yanked his dick out of me and pulled me back up against him.
Tad scrambled to lie down on the desk top, his ass hanging over the edge. Coach picked me up and sat me down on Tad's chest, my cock rubbing against his lips. Tad licked up the cum that was still drooling out of me and sucked my aching cock back into his mouth. Then the coach braced my pal's legs over his shoulders and I looked back in time to see his monster meat disappear up Tad's fuck-hole.
"Lean forward and stick that pretty butt of yours up in the air," Coach growled, roughly pushing me down.
I did as he said, keeping my cock firmly wedged in Tad's throat. Coach leaned down and started planting a row of fluttery kisses down my spine 'til he got to my sticky hole. Then he lapped all around the swollen lips a couple of minutes before jamming his tongue deep into me, fucking me with it.
I howled like a dog and started shooting another load as Coach James's hard hand made solid contact with my tingling ass yet again. Tad had been right--the bastard was a hell of a disciplinarian. All the same, I had a funny feeling deep in my gut that I'd probably be defying him again--real soon.
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