"Well, none of my fantasies were here in a spa, but..."

From Create Your Own Story

He grins at you, and nods. "You know, kid, you're reading my mind. Got just the place," he says, cryptically, and then rises, wrapping his towel around his waist. You heave a sigh to see that thick meat hidden - but he taps your shoulder. You smile, and rise. The coach walks beside you, leading you to the locker rooms again - as you pass the Italian stud he gives you a thumbs up - the Otter doesn't say anything, given that he's on his knees and sucking the burly Italian's cock.

Once in the locker room you gather your stuff and get dressed. You watch the coach get dressed, enjoying watching him stuff his half-hard cock into a jockstrap before he puts on his jeans, and then the two of you step out through the doors to the desk, where you hand in your key, and step out into the night.

"I'm over here," the coach says, and you go to his car with him. He pulls out of the parking lot, and starts driving, his biceps flexing at the wheel. You're not sure where you're headed at first, but a few sights seem familiar, and then you see your grade school ahead, and your former coach gives you a wicked grin.

"Shouldn't be anyone there this time of night," the coach says, and pulls into the back parking lot. The place isn't lit, and the coach and you hurry to the back door. He opens it with a key, and holds the door open for you long enough to duck in, and then comes in after you. He takes your neck in his hand and walks you down the dark hallways, and you feel your cock harden as you realize you're heading to the athletics end of the school.

At the second last door before the gym, he pushes you, and you step inside the coach's office. His desk is central, it's not a huge room, with two filing cabinets behind. Trophies line one wall.

You turn, and drop to your knees, pressing your face into the coach's jeans.

"You want my dick, boy?" he asks you.

"Yeah, coach, I want your dick," you say, and start undoing his belt and tugging at his jeans. He steps out of them, and tugs his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side, standing before you in his jockstrap, a stocky fantasy come true. You shuck your shirt and worm your way out of your jeans and underwear, and then tug his jock strap to the side, releasing his cock.

"Eat my dick, boy," he says, with a low rumble in his voice. You oblige, sucking his cock like a champ, and feeling him harden again in your mouth. You rub your hands up his stomach, and rub his thick chest, moaning against his dick. You can't believe you get to suck the coach's cock! His hand fists in your hair, and he fucks your face for a while, your spit soon slick up and down his shaft.

"You gonna take it like a champ, boy?" he asks you, tugging your face away from his dick. You nod, spit dripping from your lips, and he grins, tugging you up to your feet. He turns you around, and pushes you over his desk, scattering pens and paper onto the floor. He leans over you reaching past you to get a small tube of some sort of cream, and squirts it into his hand, then rubs it between your ass cheeks. You writhe, bracing your arms on his desk, and pushing your ass against his fingers.

He slides one finger into your hole, and you gasp.

"You want me to fuck you, boy?"

"Yes! Fuck me, coach!" you beg him. "Fuck my ass!"

He lines himself up, and with the force you were hoping for, the stocky older man rams his dick up your hole, gripping your shoulders and pushing hard with his thick thighs. His cock batters into your slick hole and you grunt, pushing back against him. He fucks you like the stud he is, ramming it in and almost all the way out on every shove, grunting with every thrust, his sweat and yours mixing on your back. The smell of him is masculine and strong in the little office, and you're letting out a stream of moans, gutteral grunts, and curses. You feel him riding you right down to your balls, and when he blows his load, you nearly white-out from the pleasure of a fantasy come true. He shoves in deep while his cock spurts, and you grip your dick and jerk your load onto his desk-top.

"Fuck," the coach says, pulling out of you. He's panting, hard. "I gotta track down more of my ex-students..."

You laugh, and lean forward, catching your breath. You turn and look at him, feeling your face burn as you go for broke. "Can we do it in the gym next?"

He smiles.


(The End - please send feedback to [email protected])

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