Coach Abraham

My first sexual experience of any kind was with the coach of the wrestling team, Mr Abraham, that I had secretly lusted after for some time. In my last year of high school, I found myself being kept behind so often after class that it was becoming second nature. It wasn't that I was disruptive or a trouble-maker; I just had a quick temper and wasn't good at following orders from authority figures. I was battling with deeply hidden emotions, not sure whether I was into girls or guys and this led to a great deal of pent-up frustration and anger. Also, I was a day-dreamer and would often find my head full of thoughts that kept me awake at night, my cock hard under the covers, until I had to take myself in hand to relieve my aching loins. I would often picture the other guys from the wrestling team, but had found myself thinking about Mr Abraham more and more, his natural masculinity a real draw to me and my secret passions.

The latest incident happened in gym class, when Coach Abraham overheard me call one of the other guys a 'fucking cunt' during an argument that had broken out between us. Zeb Wilson was a cocky son-of-a-bitch and always winding me up and knew exactly which buttons to press and I just lost my temper with him.

"I don't appreciate hearing that kind of trash in my gym, Smith. Stay behind after class," Coach Abraham barked.

I sighed inwardly, embarrassed at having been called out in front of the other guys, who seemed to move away from me, not wanting to get caught in the middle.

So later, after the last bell had rung, I waited on the bench in the locker room for Coach Abraham to come in and read me the riot act. He had a reputation of being a hard task-master, making guys do press-ups or laps around the gym, so I stayed in my shorts, anticipating that my punishment would involve some sort of physical activity. The locker room door slammed open and Mr Abraham came in, dressed only in a pair of sweats. His ripped, muscular body was covered with a thick coating of hair and I found my eyes being drawn to his manly chest, which was glistening with sweat. He was always tanned and had tattoos on his arms that were obviously from his days as a Marine. He kept his head shaved short and had a pair of sultry brown eyes that seemed to study your face when he was talking to you.

"You got a potty mouth on you, Smith. Where did you learn to talk like that?" he asked, standing over me, hands on hips.

"I'm sorry, Sir. It's just that he wouldn't leave it alone," I replied. "Zeb just rubs me up the wrong way."

"That's no excuse. I don't like that to hear that kind of language from my students. You've been spoiling for a fight for some time now. What's gotten into you? You got trouble at home, is that it?" he asked.

I wasn't about to confess the reason that I was so short-tempered was due to a simmering sexual tension within me, not when Mr. Holmes was stood within touching distance. I could almost imagine myself reaching up and caressing the big bulge that always showed in his joggers. I often wondered if he wore underwear or was just naturally gifted in the penis department.

"No, not trouble at home, Sir," I managed to reply, licking my lips that had grown dry. I found it almost impossible to swallow; I felt like I had an obstruction in my throat and was aware that my heart had begun pounding.

Mr Abraham gave a deep sigh and sat down beside me. His thick, muscular thigh touched my leg, but he didn't move it. The smell of him was intoxicating; a heady mix of aftershave and sweat.

"I remember what it's like to be your age and I wasn't too different myself, Smith. I mean, it wasn't such a long time ago, y' know. I always felt angry at the world; always fighting my feelings. You got problems with a girl, is that why you're so antsy?" he enquired.

I let out a short laugh. "No, Sir, not a girl."

He paused for a moment, then quietly said, "A guy, then?"

I looked at him, shocked that he might have read me so easily. Was 'SMITH THINKS HE MIGHT BE A FAG' written on my forehead in big, ugly letters or something? My face felt hot and I felt that I might pass out at any moment.

"Hey," he said, placing a hand on my knee, "I'm a man of the world. I know what it's like when your hormones are raging all over the place."

I was mortified to realise that my prick was hardening in my shorts as a response to that pressure on my leg. He gave my knee a slight squeeze and I almost moaned out loud. Suddenly, he got up and moved towards the row of rusted red lockers than ran the length of the locker room. I couldn't move; I was stuck to the spot. I saw the tattoo on his back, just at the top of his spine and nestled between his shoulder blades and willed myself to keep calm; to focus on anything but the swelling in my shorts that was beginning to hurt and make my balls ache.

"Perhaps a bit of physical exercise will help you with your aggression, Smith," Coach Abraham said now, then turned his back on me again.

"Yes, Sir, maybe so," I managed to respond.

"Maybe I'll join you," he said, then proceeded to pull down his sweats, exposing his tanned and toned ass that was perfectly encased in a startlingly white jock. He opened one of the lockers and reached inside.

I didn't know what was going to happen next, but I could not tear my eyes away from his glutes and his thick, muscled legs. All the moisture from my mouth had disappeared again and I swear he could hear the dry click from across the room as I tried to swallow.

Mr Abraham turned to face me, and I could see that he was getting aroused. If I had thought he was big before, it was nothing to the swelling that was there now. The material on the pouch of his jock was straining across his hardening dick and it was mesmerising. In his hand he held another jock, which he tossed across the room towards me. I caught it and held it close to me.

"This is a spare I keep, Smith. Best put it on," he said.

"Yes, Sir," I replied, standing up and pulling my shorts down.

My cock sprang free from its nylon prison and I saw Mr Abraham smile as he took in all my eight inches with his eyes.

"Well, that's going to look mighty fine in that jock. I know the other guys always look at your crank in the shower; I've heard them talking about how hung you are. Now, put that jock on," he ordered.

I nodded, unable to do much else. I stepped into the jockstrap and pulled it up over my rock-hard prick. I adjusted the straps so that they rested under the curves of my ass and, hands on hips, looked at Mr Abraham who had begun to rub the massive bulge in his underwear.

"Will I do, Sir?" I enquired, heart pounding in my chest.

"Yeah, Smith, you'll do just fine. Now, get your ass over here," he barked.

On trembling legs, I made my way over to him, who was now sat down on a bench near the lockers, his eyes watching my approach.

"Where do you want me, Sir?"

"Get over my knee, Smith," he answered, spreading his legs.

I did as I was told, my stomach over his left thigh and my cock resting on his right. I bent over as far as I could, then felt a sting on my ass, as my coach began to spank my butt cheeks. I resisted crying out, as I knew it would only increase the tempo of his slaps and had to bite down on my lip to stop from moaning.

"This will teach you for using foul language in my gym, boy," Mr Abraham said, sounding as breathless as I felt.

"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir."

The slaps increased, and both my ass cheeks were smarting, and I knew they would be red and sore. In between strikes, Coach Abraham blew gently on my butt, cooling the stinging sensation and I started to struggle on his lap.

"Keep still, Smith, or I'll do it harder." He laughed. "Or maybe you'd like that, huh?"

I guessed that he was enjoying it, as I could feel the evidence poking into my chest, hard as steel.

"I knew you'd like it, you fuckin' foul-mouthed boy," he growled.

I couldn't believe it! "But, Sir..."

He laughed. "Going to tell me off for cursing? My gym, my rules, Smith."

"Yes, Sir," I acquiesced.

He stopped hitting me and pushed me gently off his lap, turning me in the process so that I was on my knees in between his legs, my face inches away from the bulging front of his jock.

"Now, Smith, you're going to put that potty mouth to good use," he announced, then pulled down the pouch of his jockstrap and his solid cock was free, the glistening head hitting him in the stomach with a small slapping sound.

I knew what he wanted me to do, but I was so nervous. I'd dreamt about doing this to another guy for so long, had imagined how it would be, but I wasn't sure how to proceed. I moved my face closer to his crotch, taking in the musty smell of him through my nose and looked up at his face.

"You're going to suck me now, Smith, and make sure you do a good job, or the punishment will be severe," he ordered, his voice rough with lust.

I nodded, unable to do much else but agree. I licked my lips and moved closer to the head of his cock, my lips parting in anticipation. Coach Abraham caressed the top of my head, then gently pushed me towards his waiting erection. I needed no further encouragement. I opened my jaw wide and took the swollen head of his cock into my mouth, using my tongue to clean away the glistening drop of salty pre-cum that was trembling there. Mr Abraham smiled down at me, my mouth moving further down his shaft, inhaling his scent through my nostrils as I made my way toward his pubic hair. Once there, I had to stop before I gagged. He wasn't huge in length but had a girth of thickness and I was struggling to hold him in my warm, moist mouth.

"You done this before, boy?" he asked me.

I shook my head as best as I could, not wanting to loosen him from my suction.

"Could've fooled me," he smiled.

I then worked my way back up to the head so that it was pushed against my lips and ran my tongue gently in the slit of his helmet. Mr Abraham grabbed the back of my head and then pushed me back down, so that my nose was nestled in his musky cock hair. I coughed, thinking I was going to gag, but then began to suck him harder, moving my head up and down his shaft.

"Fuck, you suck good, Smith," he said, and hearing him talk that way turned me on, so I picked up the pace.

I reached under myself and rubbed my hard prick through the fabric of the jock, feeling dampness as my cock was leaking like a tap.

"You're a natural, Smith, and you suck cock just the way I like it, like you can't get enough," Mr Abraham said, and at that moment in time, it was all I wanted in the world just to be able to keep sucking that beefy piece of meat. The coach tapped me on the shoulder. "You carry on like that boy, and I'm going to blow my wad. You don't want that yet, do you?"

I shook my head, his cock still in my mouth. He pulled my head up, leant down and kissed me on the lips, his spit mingling with the taste of his own dick. He broke away, standing up and turning around.

"I've got another use for that filthy but very talented mouth of yours, Smith," Mr Abraham said, then knelt on the bench, exposing his butt to me. I could see the pucker of his asshole and wanted to know what it tasted like. "Eat my ass, boy," he prompted, pulling my face towards his exposed man hole.

"Yes, Sir," I replied, putting a hand on each of his ass cheeks, pulling them slightly wider to allow myself more access to that wrinkled delight. I put my nose in the crack of his butt and inhaled, breathing in the sweaty aroma of his puckered hole.

"You like the way I smell, Smith? That's what a man smells like. Bet you've been waiting for this, haven't you?" he asked, wriggling his hips a little so that his hole bounced off my nose.

"Oh, God, yes Sir," came my muffled reply.

"Okay boy, you've smelt it, now fuckin' eat it."

I gently pushed my tongue out of my mouth and rested it against his manly cunt. He gasped as I began to run my tongue up and down the crack of his ass, savouring his taste and wanting more. So much more. I lapped my tongue speedily and the coach started to writhe in what I hoped was pleasure. His grunted moans spurred me on to quicken the pace and I was soon jabbing his hole with the tip of my tongue, in and out, fucking him with it and using my saliva as a natural lubricant.

"Oh Smith, you are one hot dirty fucker with that mouth. Yeah, screw my hole boy," the Coach panted.

I pulled my rigid cock out of the jockstrap and began to tug my shaft, cupping my balls in my hand, releasing and then wanking the shaft again. I could feel my climax building and I desperately wanted to hold back. I wanted this to last, as I had dreamt about it for so long, alone in my bed with only my imagination as a prompt for my carnal desires.

"Mr Abraham, Sir, I think... I'm... going to... cum," I managed to pant into his moistened rectum.

He pushed my head away and spun around to watch, as I straightened up and tugged on my prick, building myself to an orgasm. Hot jets of spunk spurted from my cock and landed on the floor, his feet and all over my legs. My whole body shook with pleasure as my climax dissipated, my breath catching in my throat.

Mr Abraham stood up, his dick out in front and he took himself in hand. "You going to take my load, Smith?" he asked, positioning himself over my face.

I nodded, mouth open, ready to take it all. His hips thrust as his breathing quickened and soon a milky white stream of hot cum exploded from his engorged cock, his balls pulsating with the force of his orgasm and I closed my mouth around him, taking that hot nectar down my throat. When he broke away, I grabbed his hand and sucked the remnants of his ejaculate from his fingers, wanting and needing to taste every drop. I smiled up at him and he looked at me, an expression of satisfaction on his face.

"You going to be careful what you say in the future, Smith? Going to mind your manners in my gym?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir," I replied, knowing in my heart and mind that I was going to do everything in my power to ensure I was kept behind at every given opportunity.