Date: Mon, 27 Jun 2016 16:35:18 +0000 (UTC)
From: Wolf Pomo <pomowolf74@yahoo.com>
Subject: Running the Distance (Gay/Adult Youth, oral, anal, m/M, m/Mm

DISCLAIMER:

This story is a work of fiction and contains descriptions of
explicit sexual acts of boys and men discovering their
sexuality.  It contains graphic scenes of sex between
consenting underage boy and adult males...  If this type of
content offends you or you are under the age of 18 do not
read it.

Author's Note:

This story is the property of the author. It can be downloaded
for personal reading pleasure or sending to a friend, but if
you wish to re-post them at your own site, please contact the
author for permission.

If it is illegal to read such material where you live or if you
find the topic distasteful the please leave now.  If you enjoy
the story or if it evokes memories of your own, please let me
know.  I am happy to write stories from outlines.

Copyright 2016 Wolf, All rights reserved.

You may contact me at pomowolf74@yahoo.com if you like.
All flames will be ignored.

		   Running the Distance
                            By
                           Wolf

	When I was in high school I was a member of the cross
country team and ran the long distant events for our track
team.  Our training schedule required us to run 20 miles a
week.  I would add an additional 20 miles on top of that.  The
idea was to prepare me to long distance events.

	One day I managed to pull a growing muscle. There was
a week or so before the next track meet, and I was the only
student at our school prepared for those distances, so I
needed to be completely recovered or we would forfeit those
races.

	One of the coaches was trained in sports medicine, and
he offered to do his best to help me recover as quickly as
possible.

	He was in his late thirties or so, and he was a muscular
man with a hairy body.  He was not the type of person to
have been a distance runner in his youth.  He was more like a
football lineman type.  He was not the kind of person I would
befriend, but he was an attractive man.  He was known to
work medicals repairing the members of the football team.
He had worked on both boys and girls team members often in
public or semi-public spaces, like the locker room.

	He started working on my leg outside next to the track,
but he asked me to follow him to the training room in the
locker room.

	In the training room there were normally plenty of
other people soaking in the whirlpools and receiving other
aide from less qualified coaches.

	I didn't like being in the training room with the football
players, because they frightened me.  They were bigger and
rowdy guy, where I was a slender average sized guy.  When
confronted by bullies my impulse was to run. He sensed my
anxiety and offered to take me into his office.

	The coach told me to take off my shorts and hop up on
the steel table and started massaging my leg.  He put my
shorts under my head as a makeshift pillow.  Then he put
some sort of oil on the palm of his hand and rubbed his hands
together before working on my thigh.

	I was only a 14-year-old freshman and only about half
as tall as the football players, but I was a horny youngster, so
basically I had no restraint for that kind of manipulation of my
leg so close to my crotch.  It was embarrassing for me to
spring a boner that stained at my jockstrap.

	He made a joking comment about it, something like
"Who would have suspected that a youngster your size would
have suck a formidable tool!"  His comment embarrassed me
even more.

	He told me, "It's normal for any male to get a hard-on!
It just proves that you are a healthy boy!"

	I self cautiously adjusted my dick in my jock strap in an
effort to make it lay down flat against my body.  He worked
on my leg with thumbs and fingers.  It felt like he was rubbing
on a knot in my growing muscle.  I felt better when he
finished.

	He said, "You should return every day after school until
the track meet!"  He helped me off of the table, so that I
could test the leg.  I went to my locker and got dressed
without comment.  I was struggling with my feelings.

	The next day after school I made my way to the
training room.  He told me to take off my pants and hop up
on the table.  This time I was in my boxer shorts and this time
when I sprang my boner it protruded through the fly.  It was
hard and stayed hard.  He made a comment about it but
nothing suggestive though, only reassuring me that I was a
normal boy.

	That night when I was in bed I jerked off into a towel
while thinking about his touch.

	The third time he started my treatment at the
appointed hour, but this time he asked me if I would be more
comfortable without my boxers on.  I was embarrassed of
course, but he kept assuring me that it was no big deal,
especially among athletes.

	I have to admit that I was a horny kid, and I did love
attention from men, even if I didn't quite know what I really
wanted yet.  I went ahead and did as he requested and
removed my shorts.

	He had never had an opportunity to see me in the
showers because I never showered at school after practice,
so this was the first time he ever saw me completely naked,
and hard for that matter.

	He did the massage as normal except telling me things
like, "you're very well developed down there.  You're bigger
than most boys I've seen.  I'm really glad you feel comfortable
being naked in my presence...You're a good boy!"

	It wasn't until the fifth treatment that anything sexual
happened.  Once I was naked he started asking me about
being hard, and if I was comfortable.  He asked me if I knew
'how to take care of it.'

	I reluctantly confessed that I did, as embarrassed as
ever.  I was already naked and on the table.

	He told me, "I will be okay with it if you want to jerk off
while I massage your leg!"

	I was reluctant to do anything for a few minutes,
maybe even longer, but at some point my cock won me over
and I started to play with myself.

	He said, "If you're going to do it, you should do it
properly. Really go for it!"

	So I jerked off and between the week long buildup and
his hands on my leg I lasted maybe a minute.  He continued
talking the whole time saying things like, "You're completely
normal!  You're not the only boy who needs to
masturbate...all boys do the same thing at home...all good
boys play with themselves!" I shot several thick ropes of cum
onto my chest as he complimented me.

	The day of the race I was in good shape.  I ran the race,
and it didn't matter because the other school didn't enter
anyone to run that distance, so I was running alone against
the clock.  There was no pressure on me, none but my own
will to do my best.

	After that day I found ways to talk to the coach on my
own.  When he felt comfortable he would take me to the
office or the training room when it was unoccupied.  Later
even the nearby park once a month or so.  I repeatedly faked
injury to give him an excuse to spend time with me.
Sometimes he would massage me, other times I'd just pull
out my cock and jerkoff for him.  At some point he pretended
to evaluate my cock and balls.  He would do things like
hefting the weight of my ball and cock, seeing how my
foreskin slid back and forth.  He would proclaim that he was
making sure that I was growing properly.  He would play with
me a bit, but would always want me to jerkoff myself, while
he watched.

	He'd talk and tell me comforting things about how
jerking off was normal and boys my age needed to it, and I
was a good kid.  He told me that I should be comfortable with
my body and a lot of other things.

	If I was lying on my back I would squirt cum all the way
up to my chest and occasionally to my face.  The coach would
rub the cum into my skin.  If I came on the floor or table, he'd
give me tissues to clean it up.  Sometimes I was fully naked
and other times I had my cock out.  The thing was I could see
that he was hard, but never saw his cock.

	He had touched me everywhere by the time the school
year ended.  He also played a big part of my jerkoff fantasies.
I expected him to be at school at school the next semester,
but he wasn't.  I asked my cross country coach about him,
and was told that he took a coaching job at another school.

	I felt awkward asking for more information, so I left it
alone.  I never heard anything about there being a scandal.  I
certainly hadn't told anyone, and he told me that I was the
only boy he had played with.  (I never really believed him).

	Before the end of the school year our cross-country
coach got permission from the school board and each parent
to take the team up to the Mammoth Mountain Ski Resort for
high altitude training for most of the summer.  We got special
rates for the use of a resorts cabins and meeting hall.

	It was a daunting prospect to be running mountain
trails all summer, but it was also exciting to think that the
eight of us were going to be away from home all summer.
We took a school bus up highway 395 past Bishop, Crawley
Lake and turned onto Highway 203 up to Mammoth.

	Being a ski resort community means that the summer
months the place is not used very much.  There are some
cabins used by the owners as a quiet retreat during the
summer.  Some hikers use the area as a base, but the wildest
use is a group of bicyclist's that bring their mountain bikes up
there and take the ski lifts to the tops of the mountain and
then race down the ski trails.  If they take a spill helmets,
knee and elbow pads do little to protect the rider.  The
gravely paths make brakes almost useless.  Seeing these guys
coming to the infirmary all scrapped up dripping blood
everywhere was enough to turn me off to that kind of thrill
ride.

	After we paired up for room assignments and dropped
our gear we gathered in the hall where we were shown what
we had to look forward to for the next couple of months.
There was a large map of the surrounding mountains.  The
coach used a red marker to trace a trail making a loop around
the mountains.  The route was a 30 mile loop when you
factor in that every thousand feet gain in elevation is equal to
another mile.

	We were given a camel water pack with storage space
that we packed in tape, mole skin, hydrogen peroxide and
other first aide essentials, a wind breaker extra socks and a
lunch.  Each of us carried a radio so that we could
communicate with the base in case of an emergency.  The
added weight added to the stress factor of the training.

	We got up early every morning had a breakfast that
would stick with us.  Put on our running gear sling our camels
on our backs and headed north on a trail away from the ski
slopes.  We ran the ridges in the designated loop.  The first
day was a killer.  It was growing dark by the time we came
straggling back to the base.  All we wanted to do was eat,
shower and hit the sack.  A lot of us were woken up with
charley horses.  We learned quickly that after the run we
needed to stay on our feet and walk until our legs relaxed.
The third day was the worst, my muscles felt like they were
rubber, and it was all I could do to get out of bed.  The pace
was even slower for several hours, but soon my muscles felt
better.  I ate my lunch on the run.  When I got back to the
base I showered, put on fresh clothes and walked around the
village before dinner.  Most of the stores were closed for the
summer season.  While on my walk I came upon our coach
coming out of the local grocery store.

	I offered to help him carry the grocery's he had bought.
While we were walking back to the hall he confided in me
that I was a natural distance runner.  With a lot of work I
could be a good at it.  The idea of being able to compete in
marathons with the best excited me.

	Each day after that I did my best to reduce my times.
By the end of summer I was back at the base hours before the
best of the other runners dragged in.  I added sprints up the
dry ski slopes to increase my leg strength.

	When we returned home I set records during the cross
country season, and the coach helped me enter marathon
races.  Not having recorded times I was back on the pack
where there was a lot of jostling going on.  I stayed with the
pack until mile twenty.  That is when runners hit the wall as it
is called, from that point on runners stay in it on guts alone.
Being stubborn I was not about to give up.  I finished my first
race in the top twenty.  That gave me some respect among
runners.  Distance runners are slow developers, the best hit
their stride in their thirties.  No one expects 15-year-old to be
comparative that young.

	My coach was right there encouraging me on.  He
made sure I had plenty of light weight track shoes, and my
diet was designed to maximize my stamina.  I practically lived
with him.  Any blister on my feet or chafing between my legs
was of immediate concern.

	Like my earlier days when the football trainer
administered to my pulled muscle, I sprang a boner.

	My coach told me that some people think that having
sex weakens an athlete.  Boxers traditionally are isolated
from women for months before big matches, but that is not
true.  Sex doesn't have any lasting effect on physical
performance.  If you have a desire to have sex by all means go
ahead and enjoy yourself!

	I took that as permission to take out my cock and
masturbate.  The coach was taken aback for a moment before
he brushed my hand away and took hold of my cock and
started stroking it.  He bent over me and took my cock into
his mouth and sucked me until I gave him a taste of my cum.

	I reached for the front of his pants and fumbled with
the opening, until he used his own hands to unfasten his
pants, and pulled out his own circumcised cock.  As I lay there
on the table with him right beside me I leaned over and took
his cock into my mouth and sucked him while he still held my
cock.  I soon got to taste his cum for the first time.  My
training schedule included blowjobs after showers from then
on.

	I heard about anal sex and asked my coach about what
it was like.  To demonstrate to me what it was like by bending
over the training table with his pants down and spread the
cheeks of his ass.  He told me to go ahead and stick my cock
in his asshole.  It felt wonderful to have his sphincter grip my
cock while I fucked him.  When I came it was the best feeling I
had ever had.  Wondering what it would feel like to be fuck I
bent over the table in all of my naked glory.

	Coach used a slippery lotion to lubricate his cock and
my asshole.  He told me it would hurt the first few times, so
do your best to relax.  When the head of his cock started
spreading my sphincter it involuntarily puckered and it hurt
like hell.  I moaned in pain and the coach slapped my ass, and
told me, "Relax or it will hurt more!"

	The shock of him spanking my butt startled me, and my
sphincter must have relaxed.  His cock slid in to the hilt.
When my sphincter tried to pucker it hurt.  I did my best to
relax it, while he fucked me.  When he squirted his cum into
my ass he slowly pulled out, and my asshole remained open.
Cum ran down my legs.  He told me not to try and squeeze
my ass closed.  He assured me that it would close eventually.
I was sore for a couple of days.  When I got over the ache I
felt like something was missing.  I actually asked Coach to
fuck me again.  We were fucking each other daily from them
on.

	I became aware that a lot of other distant runners were
into gay sex.  One day while I was training with another
runner he stopped in the woods to take a leak.  I stopped
with him and watched him take out his cock from under the
leg of his shorts and held it while pissing on a tree trunk.
When he finished he stood there milking it.  When he saw the
way I was looking at it he pulled the skin back and pointed
the head at me, "Would you like to taste it?"

	I knelt in front of him and held onto his hips while I
swallowed his cock.  He fucked my mouth until he came.
After I finished emptying his balls he offered to blow me, so I
pulled my cock out of the leg of my shorts while he knelt
before me.  I held his head while fucking his mouth.  Later
after we finished logging twenty miles we made use of the
training room to fuck each other.  He introduced me to some
other gay runners.

	I became a very popular boy among the older runners.
I was able to travel all over the world to compete in
marathons and enjoy sex with men everywhere.



If you enjoyed the story and have a story you want me to
write about your introduction to the world of male sexuality,
please send your outline to pomowolf74@yahoo.com