Date: Fri, 1 Apr 2005 08:37:28 -0800 (PST)
From: Mark Wild <markwild082@yahoo.com>
Subject: Boys in Control, pt. 6

Disclaimer: If you are not yet 18 years of age or if it is illegal to read
materials of this kind where you live, then please stop now. This story
contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenage boys and is for
adult eyes only.  The acts are consensual and are a result of their love or
lust for one another. This story is completely fiction, and all
descriptions and names are also made up.  Any similarities are purely
coincidental.

I would love to hear from you, so negative as well as positive feedback
is always welcome! Please write: markwild082@yahoo.com


This is for my dad, Conner, the most patient soul on earth!

I love you, man.  Mark.


Boys in Control, pt. 6

Kevin's Little Afternoon


Jim Pierson slouched against his back steps, his back against the door of
the porch.  He had just popped a beer when the phone rang.  It wasn't his
cell, so he knew it wasn't Parker.  He swore, and hoisted himself up,
grabbed the extension on the kitchen wall.  "Hello?"  "Hey.  Uh, coach?
It's Kevin, man."   Jim straightened up, flicked a stray piece of grass
off his arm.  "Kevin?  Kevin Riley?  Kid I remember used to drag his
sorry ass out on a football field and embarrass his parents?"  The kid
laughed.  "Yup.  That's me, sir.  Am I interrupting anything, coach?  It
was okay to call ya?"  "Buddy,"  Jim said, "the only thing you're
interrupting is a beer.  I just put the lawnmover away five minutes ago.
You got perfect timing."  He took a swig of beer, burped exaggeratedly
into the receiver and said, "Ahhhhh..."

Kevin laughed.  Jim smiled and said, "So what's up?"  "Well..." the kid
said, "I, uh, got some free time this afternoon, coach, and, uh..."
"Yeah?"  "Yeah, sir.  Cathy's going over to her mom's, and since her
dad's out of town it's just gonna be her and her mom and her sister.
So...I'm, uh...excused."  "Damn, Kev.  That's tough, man.  Yer gonna miss
out on all that yakkin', son."  "Oh thank god, sir," and Jim knew the kid
was grinning.  "Yeah, I guess I am."  There was a second's pause, then
Kevin pushed on.  "So, uh.  I was thinking... maybe if you weren't too
busy... or TIRED or anything... I could maybe drop by for awhile?"  Jim
felt his cock start to stiffen and said, "Now?"  He heard Kevin's voice
fall a bit, let down.  "Now not a good time for ya, sir? You already got
other plans?"  "Naw, son..." Jim said.  "It's just..."   "...Yeah?"  "I'm
awful stinky right now, Kev."

Kevin's voice dropped a little.  "Really, sir?"  "Yeah, Kev.  I mowed the
whole lawn,  and did all the edging, too.  These old yard clothes are all
wet and stained."  "Aw, fuck," Kevin muttered.  "So... I might need a
little time to get cleaned up, you know?"  "Fuck, coach.  No way."
"Huh?"  Jim grinned.  "At least not till I get there, huh?"  Jim reached
down, grabbing his by now hard cock and squeezing the shaft through his
shorts.  He was right:  Parker's jock was soaked.  "Kevin?" he said, into
the receiver.  "Yeah, coach?"...  "You better hurry, son."


Twenty minutes later Jim heard a car pull up out front and went to the
door.  He saw Kevin hop out, pulling the seat forward to retrieve a
gymbag from the back seat.  He grinned, all the way from the curb.
"Goddam, boy," Jim said.  "They got any stop signs between your place and
here?"  "A few, sir," the boy laughed.  "I ignored most of 'em."  Jim
ushered him inside and closed the door.  Kevin sat his bag down and then
stood there, a little awkward, suddenly.  Jim chuckled.  "So... you just
gonna stand there all day grinning like you just won a game... or are you
gonna give me a hug?"  Kevin swallowed and moved a little closer.  "A hug
sounds good, coach."  The feel of the kid's body against his was just as
electric as it had been at the World Series, and after a few seconds he
felt Kevin's arms sliding up under his sweatshirt and up his ex-coach's
back.  Jim put his hand on the back of Kevin's neck, and they rubbed
their hardons together, hungrily.  "Goddam," Jim muttered.  Kevin
breathed deeply into Jim's chest.

When they pulled apart slowly Kevin said, "You were right, coach.  You're
sweating bad."  Jim moved his hands down to cup the jock's ass.  "So...
you want me to clean up now, or wait till after your workout?"  Kevin's
eyes twinkled.  "Workout, sir?"  Jim grinned, moving his hands over
Kevin's tight butt.  Kevin hitched in closer.  "Well, damn, son, you
didn't think you was just gonna dance in here and get it for free,
didya?"  "Well, yeah..."  Kevin teased.  "I was kinda hoping..."  Jim
laughed.  "Shit, son.  That's Cathy's job!  Guys gotta earn it."  Kevin's
face lightened and he moved his hands up over Jim's hairy chest and his
face looked like he didn't have a care in the world.  "Yeah," he said.
"I think I'm remembering it, now."  "Yeah?" Jim said.  "Yeah.  I think
I'm definitely starting to remember some things," and he leaned down,
nuzzling his face under Jim's lifted arm, his arms around Jim's waist
again, holding himself there, breathing, and Jim held his ass with his
other hand.

When Jim pulled his face up he looked so much like the old Kevin that it
made him wonder, and he found himself saying "You ready to give me some
reps now, son?" just like he used to, and that was something he hadn't
said in years.  "Yeah, coach," Kevin chirped.  "I think I am, now."  He
picked up his gymbag and followed Jim downstairs.  His old coach had
padded over a third of the basement floor with used wrestling mats, and
his bench and weights sat on top of them.  There were a couple old
benches, too, that Jim had appropriated when they had replaced them at
the school three years ago.  One of Jim's old tshirts was draped over the
bar.  "Damn," Kevin said, "you got more shit here than I remembered."
"Well, you know," Jim grinned.  "I gotta keep up."  Kevin stood and put
his hands on Jim's chest.  "You're keeping up fine, sir."  Jim's hands
were halfway to Kevin's ass again before he caught them and rested them
on his old quarterback's waist instead.

"So how much you bench these days, huh, Kev?"  "Well, uh, I ain't been
working out too regular lately, coach."  Jim pushed Kevin's tshirt up a
little, resting the palm of his hand on the boy's flat abs.  Kevin
shivered.  "You getting soft on me, boy?"  "I... lift stuff around the
site all the time, coach.  We got equipment and all, but sometimes we
just gotta get in there and grunt, you know?"  "Damn, & Son.  You telling
me that you don't just sit in that air-conditioned trailer all day,
pushing a pencil?"  "No way," the kid laughed.  "I wish.  But, no,
coach.  My dad wouldn't want that, and... I wouldn't, either."  Jim let
his finger press slowly into the young jock's navel, causing Kevin to
inhale softly, his stomach tensing flat and taut.  Jim looked at him.
"That's my boy."

He moved over to the weight bench.  "I got a hundred and twenty on here
from last night.  You wanna try that?"  "Sure," Kevin said, walking over
to where Jim stood by the bench.  He made a move to sit down, but Jim
stopped him.  "Damn, son, you forget everything I taught you?  You gotta
warm up, Kev, stretch those muscles of yours a little.  You gotta loosen
'em up, son."  Kevin grinned.  "Shit, coach, I warmed up earlier, man."
"Yeah?"  "Yeah."  He put his hands in front of him, grabbing the air and
making little thrusting motions with his hips.  "How you think I really
got out of going to her mom's?"  Jim clucked a little, feeling happy as
pie.  "Okay, then, horndog---" Kevin grinned "---get on the bench."

Kevin lay down flat and flexed his fingers, wiggling a little, getting
himself adjusted.  Jim moved up behind him and they smiled up and down at
each other.  "Just try it out, Kev.  If it's too much weight, let me
know.  We don't want you, uh... pulling a muscle or anything."  The jock
laughed back.  Jim cupped his hands under the bar and Kevin reached up
and lifted it from the cradle, gauging the weight in his shoulders and
triceps.  He pressed the bar once, twice, then pushed up and cradled it.
"Damn," Jim said.  "That tough, huh?"  "Hell no, you old pussy fucker.  I
just gotta get a better grip with my hands."  "Pussy fucker?" Jim said,
reaching down and groping himself.  "Pussy wrecker, you mean."  Kevin
swallowed, watching Jim's upside down hand moving to his crotch, cupping
his big bulge.  He pumped.  Three... seven... ten...  He cradled the bar
a second time then lay there winded.  He reached back and felt Jim's leg
behind him.

"Good, son.  You think you can give me ten more?"  Kevin looked up and
gripped the bar again.  His tshirt pulled tight over his chest as he
pumped, the arms of the shirt rode up above his pits, and he breathed and
pumped, grunting a little by number eight.  He pumped an extra one, too,
but was huffing when he finally rested the bar the final time.  Jim
looked down.  "Damn, Kev, you whipped already?"  The young construction
jock sat up on the bench, chicken-winged his arms a few times, loosening
his shoulders.  "Ha," he said.  "You wish."  He stood up and stripped off
his tshirt.  Playfully, he ran the palm of his hand over his smooth
chest, knowing Jim was looking.  "Why don't you give me a few now,
Coach?"

Jim moved over and took his place on the bench.  This was good.  This was
how it used to be.  He wiped his hands on his sweats and grabbed the
weightbar, twitched his shoulders some to set them.  Kevin moved over to
take up the spotting position, and Jim started lifting.  He got to twelve
on automatic, cause this was his routine, and his muscles knew what to
do.  He was sweating again, though, when he hit fifteen.  He was
breathing in deep, his stomach sunk below his chest.

Kevin watched him, watched Jim's face start to flush, and the veins that
started to bulge in his arms.  He stood and spotted, remembering how it
used to be when he didn't know shit, and Jim knew everything.  It was
easy, then, off at college, tasting the first surge of freedom, to forget
about those weekends, to hang with his buddies at sorority mixers and
settle for handjobs and blowjobs when he couldn't find a chick drunk
enough to go all the way, when his coach was like a memory.  In the whole
of his university career he'd only let two other dudes up his ass, a
lacrosse instructor he'd hooked up with a few times with whom he thought
it was gonna work out... before, a couple weeks later, Kevin just kind
of lost interest, and a guy from NC State who was visiting for the
weekend, and whom he never saw again.  After awhile, he picked up the
habit of staying quiet.

Jim knew nothing of this.  He was inside himself now, straining, huffing,
pushing himself harder than he pushed his boys.  Inside, he knew Kevin
was watching.  Inside, he wanted Parker to be, too.  When Jim hit twenty
he was grunting.  "Whoa, coach," Kevin said.  "That's enough, man.  I'm
impressed."  Twentyone.  Jim opened his eyes and sweat leaked into them.
"Hell... yeah," he said.  He huffed.  Twenty-three.  His muscles were
straining, his tshirt was soaked and... umpfff!  twenty-four... before he
lost his equilibrium and the bar swerved and Kevin reached down and
grabbed it, helping him guide it to the cradle.  Jim was panting hard.
Fuck!  He'd wanted twenty-five.  Almost... almost...  He sat up, wiping
his forehead with the hem of his tee.  He breathed in deep.  Next time,
Park...

When Kevin moved between his legs and pulled his shirt off he didn't
resist.  The boy wrapped his hands around Jim's neck and upper back,
sliding over the thin film of perspiration that dampened his pliable
skin.  He pulled Jim forward slowly, till his head was pressed against
Kevin's stomach, and his tongue came out and found his former
quarterback's beautiful navel and he lapped at it a little, but mostly he
just rested his head.  Kneading the muscles of his coach's upper back
Kevin had to shift his weight, cause his cock was getting hard again, and
stiffening uncomfortably, trapped too tight in his jock, tighter than a
quarterback's cock should ever be.  "Kevin," Jim said.  "Yeah, coach?"
"You wore your old jock for me, didn't ya?"  "Yeah, coach," Kevin said,
playing with his ear.  "I did, sir."  "I can smell it, son."  Kevin sank
to his knees, grabbed Jim's head and pulled him down.  There was nothing
gentle about their kiss.  Their tongues crossed and recrossed, they
breathed each other back and forth, they held each other's faces and
nibbled at their lips.  Their arms knocked each other as they pulled
their nipples, Kevin's hands tugging the hairs on Jim's chest as he moved
around to kiss Jim's neck below his ear.  Jim's cock throbbed, and he
moaned, pushing his tongue out, licking at whatever flesh Kevin
presented.  When the jock moved his head down to nuzzle Jim's crotch Jim
wound his fingers softly in Kevin's hair, and suddenly found he had no
strength... to pull away...

Wildly, Kevin moved down and pulled off each of his coach's shoes in
turn.   He grabbed Jim's sweatpants by the ankles and tugged.  Jim braced
his hands on the bench and lifted his butt, letting them slide down and
off.  Kevin tossed them aside on the floor and looked at the old and
bulging jock his coach had on for him, stretched out by the shaft of
Jim's big pole, pulled down by the weight of his nuts.  He leaned down,
pressing his face against the large mound, rubbing it heavy against his
cheeks.  Jim spread his legs wider.  Kevin breathed in.  "Fuck, coach,"
he mumbled, "I don't know what I was ever thinking, man."  He looked up,
and before Jim could reply he said, "This old jock smells even better
than it used to, coach."  "Shit, son.  Must be all them loads I been
droppin in it, you think, maybe?"  Kevin ran his nose up and down the
distended pouch, smelling the cock underneath the mesh.  He moved his
arms up, resting them on Jim's hard and beefy thighs, supporting himself
so his tongue could work without distraction.  He licked at the jock,
pulling it with his teeth, pressing his open mouth against it, kissing
and chewing it.  Jim leaked, lifting his former quarterback's head,
looking him in the eye.  "How's it taste, son?"  "Like I said, coach,"
the boy answered, swallowing, licking his lips, "even better than it used
to, man."  He bent his head again, and Jim watched boned as fuck as even
his old and favorite boy made love to Parker's jock.  He wanted to cum,
to unload under Kevin's open mouth, soak the pouch and let the boy suck
what he needed out of it.

His hands had other ideas, though.  They moved all over the back of
Kevin's head, around his lips as the boy sucked on the sweaty pouch,
along his arms and into his pits, tugging on the tufts of Kevin's brown
hair, wetting his fingers, wiping them on his chest.  He swallowed, and
slid himself forward, easing down off the bench till he was kneeling too,
and kissed Kevin hard, feeding the boy his tongue as he slowly pressed
him back, and down, and under Jim's mouth.  He moved licking Kevin's
chest, the ridges of his stomach, his wrists when Kevin reached down to
touch his face.  His hands pulled at Kevin's gymshorts and Kevin lifted
up and let him slip them off.

Kevin's old jock was tangled by now, pulled out of place, exposing a
patch of the boy's beautiful shaft.  He lay on his back watching as his
coach lowered his head.  He moaned as Jim licked the little exposed
sliver of his flesh.  He held Jim's head, whispered "fuck!" and bent his
knees up.  He began to squirm when Jim began to lick the glans of his
meat through the jock, humping up under his coach's face.  "Man," he
gasped.  "Coach--you gotta stop it man..."  Jim moved his hand up to
Kevin's pouch, pulled it aside and let the boy's hot tool flop out,
licking it long, and wide, like Parker had said he wanted.

Kevin was whimpering, now.  "Please, coach, you gotta... stop now man
or... I'm gonna..."  Jim opened his mouth, took the boy's cock between
his lips and sank down, just letting the weight of his head ease Kevin's
meat down his hungry throat.  "No, coach," he whispered, "no coach..."
and Jim sank down to his pubes, the boy's jock aroma making his throat
constrict, and Kevin grunted "nooooo" and grabbed Jim's head and tried to
fuck it, but he only got one stroke in before his tool unloaded in his
coach's throat, down his---nnnnnnnh!... grabbing... coach's throat... and
he came like he'd forgotten he used to.

He looked down, watching as Jim took his nut, grunting, swallowing,
finally letting the boy pull out, nursing on it slowly.  "Fuck," he said,
pushing up onto his elbows.  Jim let his cock slide out of his mouth.  He
looked up at the jock, grinning, licking his lips.  "That was the
sorriest ass excuse for a workout I've seen in a looong time, Kev."  But,
again, his former quarterback held his gaze and kept his face a blank.
"Cum for me, coach."  Jim pushed himself up on his knees between the
jock's legs.  "Uh, Kev?  I already did, buddy."

Kevin looked down, saw the still swollen mound of Jim's fat meat, and the
big load of coach sperm that was leaking out the mesh of Parker's jock.
Then, only then, did he grin back.  "Stud," he said, and Jim laughed and
Kevin laughed and they rolled around the floor awhile, touching, kissing,
nuzzling.  Eventually they just lay there, two buddies, on the mats.
"You know what?" Kevin said after awhile, playing in the hair on Jim's
chest.  "What?"  "I been dragging my dad to most of the home games, you
know?  Since I've been home?  And even he has to admit it's a better team
now than when I was playing.  And I never thought I'd hear him say
that!"  Jim laughed too.  "Sounds like your old man's mellowing out a
little..."  "Dad?  Yeah, maybe a little."  Kevin thought about two
seconds, then said, "He wants a grandson bad."  "Yeah," Jim said.  "Or a
granddaughter, you know?"  "Yeah," Jim said again, playing with Kevin's
hair.  "So all these games you been coming to and you never once came
down to say hello?"

"I know," Kevin said simply.  "I mean," he said, looking up quickly, "I
don't know."  He smiled.  "You always have so many people around you,
man, the team, the refs, the news people..."  "Kevin," Jim said.  "What,
coach?"  "Next time you come say hello, son."  "Okay, sir," the boy said,
then brightened.  "Guess that means I'll see you this Friday, huh?"
"Yup," Jim said, pulling the hairs on Kevin's arm.  "Cool," the jock
said.  "I can introduce you to my dad again."  Jim laughed. "Bet he can
hardly wait."  Kevin laughed, too.  "No, sir.  He's calmed down a lot,
sir.  You'll see."

Jim's hand moved lazily up and down Kevin's arm.  "Hey coach."  "What,
son?"  "Umm, remember that time we played Danville and Bo Simms missed
both my passes the third quarter?"  Jim narrowed his eyes.  "Really?"
Kevin sat up on his elbows.  "Don't you remember, coach?  You were
pissed, man.  He was wide open, both times."  Jim looked confused.  "You
sure Kevin?"  "Sure I'm sure, coach.  Man," he laughed, "I can't believe
you forgot that!"  Jim laughed, too.  "All gone," he said, bending down
to kiss the boy's chest.  "Mmmm," Kevin sighed.  "Yeah," Jim said.
"Don't remember you guys ganging up on him in the showers later, either.
Holding him down and giving him that pink belly."  Kevin rested his
hand against his coach's cheek.  Jim licked.  "How could I remember all
of that, hey?  I can barely remember you bending over in your jock, son,
showing your old coach your ass."

"Yeah..." Kevin sighed.  Jim licked the ridge of his stomach.  "Can
barely remember you coming over to me, whispering that you'd be at my
house in an hour or so."  Slowly, Kevin arched his back up under Jim's
teasing mouth as he moved down, kissing the fringes of Kevin's bush.  He
kissed the boy's cock again.  Then he stopped and looked up.  "I remember
you never showed, though."  "Yeah," the boy said slowly, remembering
himself.  "I got too drunk."  "Yeah," Jim said, kissing his cock again.
It started to stir, and Kevin rested his hand on Jim's shoulder.  "I made
it up to you, though, didn't I?"  "Yeah, Kevin," Jim said, opening his
mouth, "you did."---his last words before he took the boy's dick in him
again, feeling it harden slowly in his mouth, filling him a little more,
each time his head bobbed down...

It was an hour or so before Kevin finally left.  Parker's jock was a
mess.


to be continued...