Coach & Me, Part 3
Parker is now a junior at the university. Continuing with our story …
*** The wrestling team had now grown to fourteen members in my junior year. Once again, we all gathered in the practice room at the beginning of the semester. And once again, we had a new coach. Seems the alumni association had fired the last one, again due to his inability to bring home a state championship. It probably never occurred to these idiots that our losing team might be the result of inconsistent coaching.
The new coach entered the room, as the team members shut their mouths. A young guy, probably early twenties and barely out of school. “My name is coach,” said the new guy, adding a few tidbits about his background. “My expectation is to win the state title this year, so I will expect your full cooperation,” said the coach, as he then took the roll.
Clearly the new coach was a strict disciplinarian, having little tolerance for any bullshit. “Men, I will not have any horsing around. This is serious business!” announced the coach. And once again, it was time for the annual strength assessment. “Okay men, return to the locker room and remove your clothes for inspection!” said the coach, as we all headed that way. Some of the new guys were unclear what was going on.
The strength assessment was held in the locker room, with all men being weighed and measured. Unlike our last coach, this one did not examine our manhood, even though it was clearly in sight. One of the freshmen popped a boner, apparently at the very thought of being in a room of fourteen naked men. Practice began the following week. I was teamed up with another freshman, who didn’t quite have the edge that my previous opponent had displayed. Naturally I whipped his ass every time, but that was to be expected given my now three years experience.
Our first competitive match was four weeks later, on a Friday. We were the home team. The gym was packed with spectators from both universities. We were on a roll. One opponent after another had been defeated. Coach was giddy about the prospect of skunking the other team. I was last to compete.
My opponent looked like a wimp, but I never wanted to underestimate someone. At the beginning of the match, it appeared this guy might have some strength behind that wimpy body, as he slammed me to the mat but failed to pin me down. You’ve got to be quick. Since the opponents were clearly going to lose the match, this guy had taken it on himself to be the lone hero and whip my butt. I on the other hand, wanted to ensure a full victory.
Finally, I managed to slam my opponent to the ground and pin his entire body for the required 10 seconds. The referee called the match. Everyone on our side of the bleachers went nuts. The team was jumping up and down. Then it happened.
With the referee out of sight, my opponent jumped to his feet and kicked me squarely in the crotch. The pain was unbearable, since we wear our singlets without any groin protection. I thought I would faint.
Everything moved so fast. Our coach ran onto the mat accompanied by several team members. I lay there, cupping my balls, still in excruciating pain. “Get this man to the therapy room!” shouted the coach, as my fellow team members picked me up and hauled me off. I learned later that the other coach had kicked my opponent in the ass and boxed his ears for this obvious breach of behavior.
The two guys carried me to the therapy room and dumped me on the table. Coach followed closely behind. He ripped my singlet from my body, rendering me completely naked. “Jesus Christ!” exclaimed the coach, as he viewed my now black and blue balls. “Get some ice,” barked the coach to one of the team members.
Coach touched my aching balls, as if he were going to mystically cure the pain. The touch of his hands actually made the pain worse, and I told him so. Returning with the ice, the coach dumped the contents of the bucket directly on my groin. Relief! Coach sent for some more ice.
After four more buckets of ice, the swelling had retreated. Coach pronounced me reasonable fit and told me to hit the showers and go home. “But you need to return here tomorrow morning for an assessment of your injury,” said the coach, as I walked gingerly to the shower.
Saturday morning I showed up as instructed. Coach was reading the sports section of the local newspaper as I approached his office. “Okay Parker, get in the therapy room and remove your clothes for and follow-up assessment of your groin injury,” directed the coach. My thoughts were kind of deja-vue, remembering the coach in my freshman year.
Removing my clothes, I examined my own package before the coach arrived. I’d had ice packs on the injured area all night, but there was still some pain. Coach entered the room.
“On the table Parker! Let’s take a look,” announced the coach, as he commenced his examination.
Coach very lightly picked up my penis and scrotum sack, intensity looking for any damage. My balls were still kind of black and blue. His examination lasted about three minutes. I was scared I’d pop a boner.
“Parker, we need to determine if your manhood has been affected by this accident,” said the coach as he pulled some lubricant from the cabinet. “Let’s see if you can obtain an erection and produce an ejaculation.” With that, the coach placed some lubricant on my limp dick. Using his thumb and forefinger, he began jacking off the shaft of my cock in an effort to produce a hard on. Five minutes passed. Nothing. After ten minutes of negative results, the coach announced a new plan.
“In the interest of athletics and your continued manhood, we will move to plan B,” said the coach, as he removed any remaining lubricant from my dick. Without any warning from the coach, he bent down and placed my still soft dick in his mouth. After the coach had sucked my dick for about three minutes, I could feel an erection forming.
“That’s more like it Parker!” said the coach, delighted with plan B. Coach continued the blowjob until my dick had become rock hard. Momentarily he stopped and said, “Let me know when you’re ready.” Another five minutes passed. I had now become concerned that there had been irreversible damage to my testicles, precluding me from popping a nut. Then it happened.
“Coach,” I said, “I think it’s on its way,” meaning my load was fast looking for an exit.
Coach removed his mouth from my dick and resumed masturbating me. Within seconds, an enormous amount of cum was jettisoned from my piss hole, landing squarely at the base of the table. Then another stream. And another.
“Well Parker!” said the coach, “I would estimate your manhood is in excellent condition despite yesterday’s incident. Go get cleaned up.”
I headed for the showers. In the process of getting dressed, coach returned to the locker room and told me to report back to him the following Saturday for yet another follow-up assessment of my injury.
The following Saturday, I reported to the gym as instructed. Coach directed me to the therapy room, instructing me to remove my clothes and lie down on the table. Frankly, I was hoping to receive another blowjob from coach.
Coach entered the room and immediately started his examination of my injury. I took about thirty seconds for me to form an erection.
“Well Parker, it looks as if everything is working again!” said the coach, again delighted with his apparent medical skills. “But while you’re here, turn over and I’ll give you a rub down. It might help your wrestling skills!” I was frankly disappointed the coach didn’t offer to suck my dick.
I rolled over on the table. Coach immediately started to rub my entire backside, using a lightly scented oil. Coach’s hands were strong and massive, as he moved down my naked body. Once he reached my hips, his hands moved into high gear. I felt my crack being pulled apart. A stream of oil had found its way to my hole.
“You got a nice hole Parker,” said the coach, “ever been fucked?” I told him no, forgetting to tell him I had indeed fucked the freshman last year.
“Well Parker,” said the coach, “I think you need to be fucked,” as his index finger penetrated what he thought was a virgin hole.
I couldn’t believe the sensation I felt. Coach continued to move his finger in and out of my rectum, toying with the sensitive skin surrounding the anus. Suddenly the coach removed his finger and begin chucking his clothes. Once he was naked, I caught a glimpse of his already erect cock. God it was big…probably eight or nine inches and God knows how thick.
Coach crawled on the table and spread my cheeks apart. Within an instant, coach rammed his dick up my butt. I screamed. Coach told me to shut-up. “Take it like a man Parker!” shouted the coach.
The coach had turned nasty. And he was rough, to say the least. I hadn’t planned on having my plumbing rearranged so drastically.
Coach was grunting like a mad man, humping the be-Jesus out of my asshole. What had started as simple therapy had turned into incredible pain. Finally, coach blew his load right up my butt and collapsed on my backside. “You were great Parker!” said the coach, almost out of breath, “you have now truly become a man!”
Well, I wasn’t so sure about that. Coach directed me to return the following Saturday for additional therapy. And while reluctant to do so, I nevertheless was grateful to coach for ensuring my manhood was intact after being kicked in the groin several weeks ago.
Saturday came very quickly. Arriving at the gym, I immediately went to the coach’s office. He wasn’t there. Wandering into the locker room, I heard the showers running. There was coach, lathering up with an excessive amount of soap and displaying an erect penis.
“Hey Parker!” said the coach, “get naked and join me!”
Following his direction, I removed my clothes and went to the shower. Coach tossed me the bar of soap and told me to lather up. Within minutes, I too had an erection. Coach rinsed off and directed me to do the same. The water was still running on all twelve showerheads.
“Come here Parker!” commanded the coach, “On your knees! Suck my dick!” This I hadn’t planned on. I obeyed the coach’s instructions, fell to my knees and inserted his slippery dick in my mouth. God it was big. For a fleeting moment, I thought the size of his penis would rip my mouth apart. Coach was being rough again, jamming his cock into my mouth with steadily excessive force. “Suck it Parker!” said the coach, “You know you like it!”
After five minutes of torture, coach pulled away and began to produce a steady stream of cum. His nuts must have been full, given the volume of juice exiting his dick. Coach fell to the floor, apparently exhausted. I just stood there, still sporting an erection.
Shortly thereafter, coach directed me to the therapy room. “Parker, you’re a good kid. But you need some additional instruction. You’re going to fuck me in the ass, whether you want to or not!” said the coach, as he got down on all fours, poised for a foreign objected to be inserted up his butt.
“Yes Sir!” I said, anxious to repay the motherfucker for last Saturday’s invasion of my own butt. I found the lube, and quickly greased up my dick. Without even thinking, I plowed into the coach’s hole as if I were some kind of jackhammer. The coach screamed. I continued to pound his ass, attempting to go deeper with every thrust. “Pull out Parker!” shouted the coach. “Shut up asshole!” I responded, still pounding away. Finally I released all the cum I could muster up, not pulling out after the last drop had been deposited.
I quickly left the room, returning to the still running showers. After dressing, I returned to the therapy room, where the coach was still on the floor moaning in a soft whimper. I left the building.
The following week, coach did not show up for practice. I nosed around the next day, discovering that coach had been transported to the hospital on Sunday morning. Later I heard that coach had undergone surgery for a torn anus. Seems I had ripped him a new asshole, so to speak.
The coach never returned. Once again, the alumni association had fired him for non-performance.
Stay tuned for Parker’s final year at the university.