Coach

«4»

By exPECtation

That weekend, and the rest of the next week, were a bit of a blur. In the midst of practice, with Coach standing at the sidelines, watching his boys, I'd suddenly flash back to our office fuck, and be hard as a rock, my dick leaking into my jeans, leaving a spreading wetness on my left pantleg. Somehow, he always knew when that happened, 'cause he'd look over and grin that evil grin of his. Smiling in the sun, he'd reach up and run his hands through his blonde hair, and casually flex his biceps as he did it. And that of course would make it even worse, my dick running like a hose. Twice that week I had to go into the locker room and change my pants, my breath shaky and my dick throbbing. I resisted the urge to head up to the office and jack-off to fantasies of coach and I, when the real thing was outside in a tight pair of jeans, yelling at a hot group of highschool boys. We'd decided not to get together until the next weekend. He was busy with the team and some marking, and I was trying to get my life together. And besides, Coach had to put in about 3 hours a day at the gym, and I certainly didn▀t' want him getting any smaller. So, I had to be satisfied with memories of the hottest fuck I'd ever had, and the only man I'd ever had. I used to lie in my bed, and imagine his gargantuan thighs, hot and quivering after a set of HEAVY squats, as he stood under the shower at the school. The water running over the vast expanse of his body, arcing out over the ledge of his pecs, a huge cascading waterfall. His big hands caressing and teasing his dick and balls, gently touching his nipples squeezing his pecs. Reaching up to hold on to the showerhead, and leaning his neck back. That thick column of muscle, tense and hard as the rest of him relaxes under the hot stream. His jaw jutting, and his mouth open, hungrily gulping down the water, trying to take it all in. The water fountaining all over him, running out the sides of his mouth. My dick would be pumping in my hand and I'd imagine that it was my cum flowing down his body, drenching him in my essence. God.... And then I'd cum, shooting all over my chest, my whole body shuddering with my need for him on me, in me, around me. And I'd fall asleep, dreaming of the weekend to come... * * * Friday dawned sunny and remarkably hot for the end of September. "Must be a Chinook blowing through" I thought as I passed over my jeans for my jeans-shorts. Pulling them up my legs, I thought about that night. Coach and I'd planned to go to Harry's that night and I was pretty excited about it. I hoped that we wouldn▀t' stay too late, that he'd find somebody to take over from him and we could go back to his place. I did some work in the morning, and in the afternoon went over to the high school. I found Coach in the weight room, running one of his classes through their paces. He was wearing those highschool gymshorts, polyester and uncomfortable, but he filled them out in a way that I'd never seen before, his ass jutting out from his lower back, his quads swelling with every movement. They were suddenly the sexiest thing I'd ever seen and I looked down at my jeanshorts and my long, lean thighs and felt a bit awkward. How could I compare to such a behemoth? How could he want me? Coach caught my eye, and winked evilly. He was spotting one of the smaller guys in the class, who was benching 130#. As the kid's strength waned Coach took more and more of the weight, until the last rep, when Coach suddenly let the kid take it all. He struggled, panted and began to turn red, squeezing his pecs and groaning loud enough to wake the dead. But he made it. The bar rattled into the rack and Coach smiled broadly, patting the kid on the shoulder as he adjusted his dick in those shorts. Coach walked over to me and grasped my shoulder in his big hand. "Fucking sexy, huh?" he whispered. "I love it when a guy exerts himself, no matter what size he is." "Well, I'd be up for a workout tonight after Harry's" I said, bumping into him 'accidentally'. He grinned and flexed his glutes. "All right then, I▀d better get into shape for it," he said. He turned and walked over to the mats. Starting a series of stretches, he soon was proving himself incredibly flexible. As I took over watching the kids, spotting them, encouraging them, I watched Coach out of the corner of my eye as he went through a blistering workout. Most highschool weightrooms are small and ill-equipped, but with Coach in charge, these guys had a weight room that would make a pro happy. Coach finished up a series of eye-popping hamstring stretches, his palms flat on the floor and his shorts struggling to contain those rockhard glutes, and then walked over to the squat rack. He slapped on about 180# for a warm-up set and worked under the bar. Feet flat on the floor, he squeezed out 8 quick reps. He then stood up and put on another 180#. The bar was bending as he took it onto his massive reps and began his set. Lowering himself slowly, deliberately, he descended until his ass brushed the floor, and then slowly, implacably rose to the top. He did this again and again, face growing red, thighs shaking, sweat starting to form a long line down the back of his shirt. After that set, he put another 120# on, and my eyes slowly widened as he started again. This man was a fucking MONSTER! He squeezed out two sets at that weight, and then put on another 50# to finish up. Getting the weights set, he lumbered over to where I was helping a kid with some preacher curls. "Can you give me a spot, when you've got a second?" he asked. "Sure." As I walked behind him over to the rack, I marveled at that body-builder walk. His thighs were so pumped that they rubbed against each other as he walked and hams bulged with each movement. I started to get hard watching him walk and when we got over to the rack, I got even harder. "You'll have to spot me on this one. Stand behind me, so that your hips are up against mine and your quads pressed against my hams. And put your hands around my chest. If I can't handle the weight, you're going to have to help with your legs." I just about came right there, standing in a gym full of highschoolboys with my dick pressed up hard against his ass. And then we went down. I could feel his legs quivering, the heat emanating from them as he struggled under 530# of iron. My hands clung to his chest and we rose, up and down together for 6 reps when I began to feel him falter. On the 7th rep I supported him a bit, whispering "C'mon stud. Lift that bar!" in his ear. And on the eighth, he was really struggling, his breathing hard, his neck bulging and his thighs practically glowing red-hot. I had to really crank it then, driving up with my thighs against his, pushing him to the top of the rep. He stumbled forward and dropped the weight in the rack, turned to me and grinned. "THAT, was incredible," he said, as the endorphins rushed through his body. "Let do some more!" His voice leapt out into the gym. "HARRISON! GET OVER HERE!" One of the bigger guys in the class wandered over, and stood expectantly in front of Coach. "I've got to do some donkey calf raises," Coach said, "and Cam here isn't heavy enough. I'll need both of you guys on my back. That okay with you?" "Sure coach." The three of us walked over to the calf area and Coach did a couple of quick stretches. Then he stood up on one of the raised platforms and bent over, placing his arms on the supports. Harrison dragged a bench over beside Coach, (he'd obviously done this before) and stood up on it. Swinging his left leg high into the air, he clambered onto Coach's back, positioning himself right at the small of the large man's back. "Now you, Cam," Coach said, his voice quiet. I climbed onto him in from of Harrison, and sat there amazed at what was happening. "You guys are too far apart," Coach rumbled. "I need the weight more centralized. Squeeze together." I moved back and Harrison moved forward, squeezing up against me. I could feel his nipples against my back, and they seemed to be getting harder. "All right?" Coach asked, breaking my reverie. "Here we go." He then started some calf raises and Harrison and I rode up and down. It was like riding a bucking bronco, but in slow motion. Watching his body tense from the shoulders down as I rose up into the air, feeling the power of his legs literally moving my world, was intoxicating. I think that Harrison felt it too, but he tried to maintain a position of nonchalance. I could hardly contain myself, though. Yet the gym continued to circulate and the kids to work out, hardly noticing what was going on in their midst. It must be a common sight, I thought. I wish my highschool had been like this! After a number of sets, we got off and Coach stood upright. Turning to the mirrors, he flexed his calves and we watched them explode. Huge heads of muscle standing out sharp and hard from his leg. The flex continued up his leg and spread out into his enormous thighs. I stood transfixed, watching his muscles swell and flare. I realized that Coach was staring at me in the mirrors, not watching himself at all. Starting to flush, I stood up straight and stared right back at him, direct eye contact. He grinned. "Time for some chest," he pronounced. I wandered back to my duties as supervisor and he lumbered over to the flat bench. Once again, he loaded up the bar with about 120# to start with, and pumped out a quick warm-up set. He then started moving up that pyramid, slamming on more and more weight until he was benching 385#. When he moved up to 405#, he once again asked for my help. Standing over him, his head practically between my thighs and his chest already pumped to the bursting point, I had to stop myself from licking my lips. Coach bucked his hips slightly and I saw that his shorts were having an even harder time containing his bulk after that leg workout. Between his massive tree trunks and that huge dick coiled up in there, they looked like they were ready to split. This time I licked my lips lasciviously and Coach laughed. "Let's get this going little guy!" I barked. "Can't have you slacking off!" His eyes narrowed and focused on the bar. Big hands came up, covered in chalk, and wrapped themselves around the thick bar and clenched once or twice in preparation. His eyes met mine and the intensity in them scared me a bit. I remembered that this was a man who said he'd kill for me, and in that instant, I realized that he would. And after watching him work out for the last forty five minutes, I realized just how easily he could. A strike with that muscled arm, a well-placed kick with that gargantuan leg would take down an elephant, not to mention an ordinary guy. My dick started to swell.... And I was brought back to the present by his GRUNT as he blasted the bar out of the rack. His arms quivered, and his thighs tensed hugely as he lowered the weight to his nipples. Teeth clenched, he slowly pushed the weight back to the top. And then lowered it again, sweat standing out on his forehead, pecs widening and straining. Up and down, up and down he went, until even this great hulk started to tire. He pushed out an eighth rep and then, after a quick pause, went for a ninth. Lowering it excruciatingly slowly, he relished the burn in his huge pecs, swollen beyond belief under his hardened nipples. He then started back up. And stalled. His body working overtime, he tried with all his might to work it up. And couldn't. He looked up to me, and I grasped the bar with my hands. And lifted, a tiny amount. He relaxed a bit, still working hard, and then I let go. Let the weight fall back on him. His eyes widened and he looked me. "C'mon guy. You got to work it. You got to push it up. Work it guy!" He grunted, and his face turned red. And he slowly, painfully worked it up. Sweat flew from his forehead and dripped from his arms onto his shirt, and the veins stood out in sharp relief on his biceps. Face contorted in a mask of agony, he pushed. "Come on Coach!" A crowd had developed and was egging him on. "Do it coach!" "Come on!" With a final, earth-shattering grunt he shot the bar up into the rack. And then sat up, pumped and huge. And then stood up, towering over his boys. He grinned at me. "Good workout guys, now off to the showers!" he said and the class scattered. I walked over to him and said "I love watching a guy exert himself, no matter what size he is." He laughed. And gave me a huge bearhug. "Well, guy, if we keep this up I'm just going to get bigger and bigger. I hope that's okay with you." I grinned my ass off. "The bigger the better, coach." He grabbed his dick and said "Well, you better remember that tonight when I get you home!" He grabbed my dick and squeezed, before stepping back. "Now, lets shower and get over to Harry's. Now that I'm pumped, I'm going to be an even meaner bouncer!" We walked into the locker room, filled with noisy kids and I thought about the night to come. •


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