Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/A/ASS13685.TXT

Text File | 1994-03-27 | 11.0 KB | 253 lines

Uploaded to EYE CONTACT, [phone], 3/28/95

@BEGIN_FILE_ID.DIZ
Coach's Turn@END_FILE_ID.DIZ



It was a grueling practice.  The coach had worked us hard, trying to
get us ready for the meet that was coming up against our rival
school.  Their wrestling team always beat us, but this year, Coach
was determined that we would win.  So he was always on our butts,
pushing us harder and harder.  A lot of guys on the team would
grumble about it in the locker room, but not me.  I enjoyed the
hard, sweaty workouts with the team.  Gave us some team spirit, not
to mention a common "enemy"--Coach Meyer.

One thing you gotta say for Coach, he knew his business.  He was the
top in his weight class in college, and here he was, not two years
later, coaching our team.  Kept himself in great shape, too.  Always
working out in the weight room, keeping his body hard and tight.
Didn't seem to deviate much from his 177 lb. wrestling weight.
Broad, muscular shoulders, defined pecs, narrow waist and hips--a
great body for a wrestler.  We were in the same weight class, and my
body was pretty good--I worked out for it, trying to keep up with
Coach, and did pretty good, too.  I was just a bit smaller in the
shoulders, but otherwise, we were pretty evenly matched, bodywise.
The hair on my chest was thicker than his, but who cared?

Not to say that any of us on the team were slackers.  We all kept up
as best we could with Coach.  Kind of a pride thing.  First thing we
did before practice was meet in the weight room for a workout.
Coach was always in there before us, and worked with us almost like
a personal trainer, pushing us to go harder.  Then we'd go into the
wrestling room for our workout, pairing up and testing each other,
trying new holds, sweating up a storm.

This day, all the guys were exhausted after practice.  We all hit
the showers, but there was none of the usual horsing around.  Most
of us wanted to get out of the gym to nurse our sore muscles.  Most
of us did.

I wasn't so lucky.  I was one of the last in the showers, and so was
one of the last to be in the locker room, drying off, when Coach
walked in.

"Mike," he said, "I'm not happy with your workout today.  You
weren't taking care of business out there.  Get back into your
singlet.  We've got some work to do."

"OK, Coach," I said.  But it wasn't OK.  I just showered, and now
had to get back into my sweaty uniform, not to mention my only jock,
only to have to shower again later.  But Coach seemed pretty
insistant, so I didn't have a choice.

When I came out of the locker room, I found Coach standing on the
mat, waiting for me, his hands on his hips, still in his singlet.

"You ready?" he asked.

"As I'll ever be, " I answered.  "What was I doing wrong?"

"You weren't pushing for the pin like I told you.  The only way
you're gonna win at wrestling is to go for the pin, all else be
damned."

"Yeah, but Coach..."

"No buts, Mike.  Let me show you how to do it."

He hunkered down in wrestling position, ready to lock up with me.  I
did the same.  We approached each other, got our hands on each
other's shoulders, he slipped his hand behind my neck, and we
started to circle each other.  He shot his hand out, catching me
behind my knee, and pulled up, toppling me back.  He landed on top
of me, swung around, catching me in a deep crotch hold, trying to
cradle me up into a fast pin.  But I managed to bridge back,
preventing him from getting my shoulders down.  As I did this, I
felt his hand slip through my legs, til it rested on the pouch of my
singlet.  I thought I felt his hand give it a slight squeeze, but I
was sure I was mistaken.

I got my arm around his neck, slipped my arm through his legs, and
rolled him over on his back.  Now I was close to pinning him, but he
rolled through, and away from me.  He stood up, ready to lock up
again.

This time, I managed to get my arms around his chest in a bearhug,
lifting him off the mat, and slamming him down, with me on top.  He
wrapped his legs around me in a body scissors and held me there.  We
were chest to chest, crotch to crotch.  I grabbed his wrists to pin
them over his head, when he broke his scissors, and bridged up.  I
was on top of him, feeling the pressure of my dick pushing down on
his, and noticed that he had thrown a rod.  The warm hard feeling of
his dick against my crotch started a hard-on for me, too.

We wrestled like that for about 15 minutes.  I could see the shape
of his cock as it stretched the material of his singlet.  I had a
raging hard-on, too, but that didn't stop us.  Guys always get
hard-ons when they wrestle, it's natural.

Finally we broke off for a short rest.  We were both all sweated up,
panting from the exertion.  We both lay on our backs, trying to get
some air into our lungs, when Coach turned to me.

"Not bad, Mike," he said.  "I knew if I pushed you, you'd do OK."

"Thanks, Coach.  You do pretty good yourself."

He laughed, and punched me in the arm.  I did the same to him.  He
hit me again.  Pretty soon, we were rolling around with each other,
play-wrestling.  He landed on top of me, getting me in a tight
bearhug, trying to pin me down.  Suddenly we both stopped.  We were
looking at each other, eye to eye, realizing that our crotches were
mashed together.  But neither of us moved.  Finally, Coach rolled
off me and stood up.

"This singlet is too wet to wrestle in, Mike.  You mind if I strip
it off?  We're the last two here, and besides, it's just us guys,
right?"

I laid there and watched him peel off his sweaty wrestler's
uniform.  It was kinda exciting to see him strip down, seeing his
hairy chest and the trail of hair leading to the waistband of his
jock, and that pouch filled to overflowing.  He stood there, running
his hands through his dark hair to get it out of his way.

"How about you, Mike?" he said.  "You gonna strip off that shit?"

"Good idea, Coach," I said.  I stood up, facing him.  Pulled the
straps from my shoulders, and peeled out of my sweaty uniform.  We
were face to face, our jock pouches tenting with hardening dicks.
He walked in front of me, and stood there, his face inches from mine.

"OK, Mike, this time, let's wrestle each other for real.  You game?"

I looked at him, knowing how much I wanted to get him like this.
"OK, Coach, winner take all?"

"Winner take all, buddy."

"OK, Coach, let's wrestle."

We grabbed each other in a vicious bearhug, trying to lift each
other off our feet.  We struggled against each other, both aware
that we were both sporting a hard-on in our jocks as we fought.

He got me down first, but I sort of rolled over through his grasp,
to get on all fours, but he surprised me by slipping his hand
between my legs and grabbing my balls through my pouch, trying to
lift me up to roll me over.  I countered by locking my arm around
his head, pulling him forward.  Using my body weight, I got him off
balance, snaking one arm around him and locking on a half nelson.  I
swung my leg over his back and slipped on top of him for a ride, my
other arm completing the nelson, my legs locked around his waist.  I
stretched my body til he was on his belly, then rolled him around,
my pouch firmly planted between his asscheeks.  He was cinched in,
and I wasn't about to let go, not with the pleasurable sensations
coming from my now-hard cock.

I rolled him back on his belly, and whispered in his ear, "I've got
you now, Coach.  You give?"

"No way!" he shouted, but I had him for the count.  Keeping a half
nelson on him, I reached down and pulled my rock-hard cock from the
confines of my jock.  I rubbed off some sweat from my chest and
lubed up my cockhead, then aimed it for his ass.

"Looks like I beat you, Coach.  You said winner take all, right?" I
said, grinning.

"And just what do you think 'all' is, Mike?" he said.

"This," I said, pushing my dickhead against his tight, sweaty hole.

"You think you're man enough, buddy?" he asked.  I noticed he was
grinning, too.

"Think I just proved it, buddy!" I stated.

"Then go for it, Mike.  Fuck my hot ass!"

I slid my dick into him, feeling his tight, moist hole open up for
me.  I thrust hard, sinking my hard cock into him, pulled out until
just the head was engulfed inside him, then thrust hard again.

"That's it, man," he shouted.  "Wrestle that dick into me."

Again and again I rammed my fuckstick into him, sinking it deeper
and deeper, feeling the heat of his ass around it.  But I wanted
more.  I pulled my dick out of his ass, and rolled him over on his
back.

"Now I'll show you my favorite pinning position, Coach," I said.  I
hooked his legs over my shoulders and leaned over him, bending him
double, with my cock at the entrance to his ass.  I pushed my dick
back into him, sliding it all the way into him, til my low-slung
balls rested on his asscheeks.

"Yeah, that's the way, Mike.  Pin me!  Ride it out, buddy!"

We rode together, me plowing his ass, him pushing up to meet every
thrust.  We were working together like a fuck machine, perfectly
matched in rhythm and lust.  I looked down at my coach, knowing I
was fucking with a real man, a man who could take my cock up his
ass, and knowing that if the tables were turned, that I would give
up my ass for him.  That kind of brotherhood was the best kind of
turnon for me, and obviously for him too, since he was enjoying it
as much as me.

Finally, I felt that surge in my nuts, and I knew I would be
shooting my load real soon.  I looked down at him, reached my hand
between our sweaty bodies and found his steel-hard cock.  I wrapped
my fist around it and started jacking him.  That started him moving
faster.

"Oh, yeah, Mike, that's it...oh, man, that feels so fucking good!
You're gonna make me lose my load..."

"Oh, man, Coach, let's do it together..."

I pulled my dick out of his ass and fell on top of him, my dick
crushed against his.  We wrapped our arms and legs around each
other, rolling around, almost wrestling again, humping our bodies
together.  The pressure started to build.

"Coach, oh Coach...that feels sooo good.  Our dicks together, you
and me, man..."

"Mike, buddy, I'm gonna cum, man."

"Me, too, Coach!  Let it go..."

And suddenly we pressed our cocks together in one final thrust, and
both began shooting off together, our cum mixing between us, holding
each other tight, just our hips moving, finally slowing down, then
stopping.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, gasping for air, feeling that
stickiness between us.  Finally we broke apart, both rolling on our
backs, exhausted.

I sat up first, looking down at my coach, his naked body gleaming
with sweat and cum, just admiring the man I fucked with.  He opened
his eyes, which were slightly glazed from the exertion.  He opened
his arms, and I fell on top of him.  He ran his hands down my back,
and I massaged his pecs through his matted chest hair.

Finally, he said, "Think we gotta have a few more private practices
like this.  Winner take all."

I just grinned and nodded.