Private Coaching

A bunch of us were hanging out at the coach’s house one evening after practice. It was a common enough thing for us to do. All the guys on the swim team liked Coach Williams a lot, and he seemed to like having us around. It always felt good being at his place. It was someplace we could just kick back and hang out and be guys.

The Coach was fairly new to our school; we were the first class of seniors that he’d taken all the way through from freshman year. He’d been a great swimmer himself in his day, and now in his early 30s he still looked like he could beat the trunks off any of us. He was a great looking guy too--sandy blond hair, blue eyes, and that classic square-jawed, All-American look that had all the girls in school wetting their seats. At six feet even, he was about an inch taller than me, but probably twenty pounds heavier and all muscle. I’d never even thought about him or any guy in a sexual way, but I’ll admit I did always notice the way his biceps filled out the sleeves of his polo shirt, and I thought to myself more than once that when I got to be his age, that was exactly the way I wanted to look.

After a while one of the guys mentioned something about homework, and everybody agreed we’d bullshitted enough for one night and got up and started heading for the door. Coach told everyone to be sure and drive carefully on our way home. I happened to be the last one out, except that before I could get through the door, Coach Williams grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

“Ryan, do you have a minute to talk?”

“Sure,” I said. He led me back into the living room and I took up my former position on the couch.

“Want a beer?”

“Sure thing!” That was strange. Coach was always dead set against us drinking, especially when we had a big meet coming up. But who was I to turn down a nice cold brew? He brought us a pair from the fridge, and we popped the tops and sat back and indulged ourselves.

“Ryan, I wanted to talk with you about your breast stroke.”

Suddenly there was a lump in my throat. That was my weakest stroke – and it was Coach Williams’ specialty. He’d won the PAC-10 title in the 200 back in college, and placed third at nationals. I guess I should have known sooner or later he’d bust my ass over it.

“You’re a great swimmer but you really lag in that event. I know you’re trying hard so I think there must be something wrong with your form. Why don’t you show me your stroke, and I’ll try to analyze it for you. Let’s start with the outsweep.”

“What, right here?”

“Yeah. Just the arm motion. Come on, stand up.”

Well, he was the coach. I drained what was left of my beer and set down the empty, then stood in the center of the room and a little awkwardly began going through the motions. “Like this?”

“Yes, but – why don’t you get rid of that shirt, so I can have a better look?”

Without even thinking I peeled off my T-shirt. After all, he was my swim coach and saw me shirtless every day. And anyway, it felt a little more comfortable doing a swim stroke on dry land now that I was a little more appropriately undressed.

“Okay, I think I see what’s going on. Now, let me show you something.”

Coach peeled off his own shirt, stood in front of me and started doing the arm strokes himself. I couldn’t help but stop and stare; it was the first time I’d ever seen him with his shirt off. I thought I was in pretty good shape – the best on the team – but Coach was built like you wouldn’t believe. As I looked over his tanned muscular body, it seemed like I was becoming a little short of breath.

“See what I’m doing here? Look at where my elbows are.”

“Uh huh.” I don’t even think I noticed the arm motions at all.

“Now you try. Come on. Slowly now. No, no – here, let me show you.”

God, I felt like such an idiot. I was completely incompetent. I really did want to do it just like he said, but something kept fucking me up. Nerves, I guess. Coach moved around behind me and positioned my elbows, grabbed my wrists and took me through the motions. I could feel his smooth pecs brushing against my shoulder blades with every stroke.

“See? That’s better. That’s right. You’ve got it now. Keep going.”

“Hey Coach, not that I’m ungrateful but… why are we doing this now? I mean, I’m an 18 year old senior, and the season’s almost over…”

“Well, Ryan, I’ve been keeping an eye on you for a while. You’ve come so far since you were a freshman. You’ve grown into quite a man. What are you, eighteen now?”

“Uh huh. I turned a couple months ago.”

“That’s good.” Something in the way he said that made me quit doing the arm strokes, and tense up a little. Coach reached out from behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. “Wow, those muscles are tight. Feels like you could use a rubdown.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

He started massaging my shoulders and neck. It felt good. It made me feel like he was pleased with me. I stood there feeling relaxed and content while he massaged me. My eyes slowly closed. Then an arm wrapped around me and began rubbing my chest. Then the other arm, sliding down my stomach to my waist…

“Uh – Coach! What’s going on?”

“It’s okay, Ryan. Everything’s okay. Relax.”

He began to unbutton my jeans.

“I don’t think so!”

I struggled hard and tried to break out of his grip but he had both my arms pinned to my sides. Coach Williams tightened his hold on me.

“I said it’s okay! Quit fighting me! It’s time you learned a few things, Ryan!”

A wave of panic swept over me. I was terrified, but at the same time there was also something very comforting in the way he held me. Somehow with his arms around me, the way he commanded me, I just felt safe and okay. I stopped struggling and resigned myself to whatever he had in store for me. He squeezed me tight. I could feel his stiff cock pressing against my ass cheeks through both our jeans.

“And don’t even bother telling me you don’t want this. I saw how you checked me out when I took my shirt off.”

“Okay, Coach,” I said meekly.

“Good. Now, let’s see what you’re really made of.”

He reached down and began stroking my cock through the denim. You better believe I was already hard as a rock. He unbuttoned my jeans and slowly unzipped me, still holding tight with one arm across my chest, and slipped his hand into my boxers. Of course I’d had my share of hand jobs from girls before – and even fucked a couple – but this felt so different. Being held in the strong grip of a muscular stud, being powerless to stop him as he manhandled my cock, it was the most exciting feeling I’d ever had in my life. He leaned in and started kissing my neck, and the next thing I knew his tongue was exploring my ear. I took a long, deep breath and moaned with pleasure.

“Ahh, you like that, huh?” he whispered.

“Yeahhh.”

“You want more?”

“Oh yeahh.”

In one quick move he slid my jeans and boxers down to my knees, wheeled around in front of me and kneeled on the carpet and took my hard cock into his mouth. He licked all around my fat swollen cock head, slid his wet lips down my seven inch shaft, swallowed me deeper than I ever thought anyone could. I clamped my hands to the back of his head and hung on for dear life as he worked my cock like no one had ever come close to before, and all the while as he licked and sucked my meat his hands were squeezing my ass cheeks and stroking my thighs. I had no idea a blow job could feel so damn good. He moved me over to the couch, sat me down and pulled off my shoes and my pants so I was naked before him, pushed me down on my back and spread my legs wide and went back to work.

Soon enough he moved on from my cock and was licking and sucking my balls. I loved the sensation, and I moaned gratefully and rubbed his shoulders and neck. Then he moved farther down, licked the underside of my sack and below, until his tongue found its way to the crack of my ass. When he finally hit my soft asshole, I let out a yelp.

“Oh, Coach! Oh, God!”

“You like that?”

“Yes, yes!”

“Well turn over on all fours then, and let’s do this right.”

I quickly complied, got myself in position, hugged the arm of the couch for support and stuck out my ass. He dove in like a champ, started licking around my asshole and teasing it with his tongue, then began working his way inside. I’d never felt anything like it before. I moaned helplessly, completely ecstatic as he jacked my stiff cock with one hand and his soft wet tongue probed my insides. I was so god damn excited I was shaking. It was the best sex of my life, and all I could think of was that I wanted more, more.

“You doing okay, Ryan?”

“Yeah, yeah, oh God yeah!”

“You like this huh?”

“Yesssss.”

“What else would you like?”

I knew what he meant. I would never have even considered it before, but my God he had my ass hungry for action. I heard the words come out of my mouth, but it was almost like someone else had said them.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“What’s that?”

“Fuck me, Coach, please fuck me!”

“Good boy.”

What had I just said? I looked back over my shoulder in terror. Coach was sliding off his pants. His hard cock looked monstrous; how could I want that inside me? But his eyes met mine and instantly I knew, I’d do anything he wanted. I braced myself and closed my eyes tight; I jumped a bit as I felt something cool and slippery on my ass – he was lubing me up, and himself too, from a bottle he pulled out of the end table. “Get ready,” he said, and I felt his hands on me, and his hips moving up against me, and – oh – God!

I wanted to scream. I felt like he was going to split me in half. The pain was nearly unbearable. But bear it I did, mainly because this was my coach, the last person on earth I’d ever want thinking I couldn’t take it. I felt his cock enter me and push inside, deeper, deeper, until he was sunk all the way to his balls. I wanted nothing on earth so much as for it to be over. But then I felt his hands on me again, stroking my chest and jacking my cock. The pain subsided and I began tuning in to the sensation of having his meat inside me, the way it enhanced my own sexual pleasure and made me feel like I was going to cum harder than ever before. Coach started pumping my ass, slowly at first and then harder and faster, and it felt so damn great I heard that strange voice speaking again.

“Oh Coach, fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me!”

He gave it to me hard; I felt every one of his muscles straining. I heard him moan, softly at first and then loudly. I was over the edge, bucking and thrashing like crazy, and he rode me hard and wet all the way home. Finally I couldn’t hold out any more.

“I-I’m gonna cum!!!”

He grabbed me and rolled me over on the couch, his thick cock still buried inside me. My cock swelled and exploded, and I shot thick wads of hot cream all over my chest and stomach. Coach was beneath me, still fucking the daylights out of me until suddenly me squeezed me tight, his whole body stiffened and he let out a loud “AHHHHHH!!!!” His body erupted in spasms as he poured his thick hot cream into me, until finally his big cock softened and we lay exhausted together on the couch.

“Okay, Ryan, hit the showers.”

I grinned at him as we plodded off together to wash each other down. That part still sticks in my mind, going over his incredible body with soap and lather, and feeling his wet slick hands all over me. As I left his house, truly a new man, I felt a little sad that I’d be leaving high school and going off to college in the fall – but graduation was still a month away, and there was a whole summer to deal with after that.