Date: Sat, 03 Jan 2004 11:46:23 -0600
From: Allen Giffen <tutus69@hotmail.com>
Subject: Diesel - Ch8 - The Coaches

DIESEL - Chapter 8 - The Coaches

     Coach Jim Erickson sat perched on the edge of his desk, legs spread,
staring with lust filled eyes at the massive football player standing in
front of him as his hands reached for the player's hips.  He gripped the
dirt smudged football player's pants and pulled Diesel forward, his hungry
open mouth attacking Diesel's.

     He'd taken his varsity team through a pretty gruelling workout that
afternoon.  Now that the team had gotten their aggression out slamming into
each other, piling on each other, pushing and rubbing against each other,
Coach E needed to release his.

     Diesel had followed the usual plan of pretending to want some extra
practice alone and stayed on the field.  By the time he sauntered into the
locker room, the other players were gone.  With helmet in hand, he headed
toward the coach's office knowing that Coach E would be inside pacing with
anticipation.

     It started his freshman year.  Coach E had been able to keep his hands
off his players for years.  Their large muscular bodies fed his eyes and
fantasies for many seasons, but when Diesel suited up as a freshman, the
sight pushed the coach past all the roadblocks he'd set up for himself.
Diesel reminded the coach of his son Jim Jr. who'd graduated two years
before Diesel's arrival.  Jim Jr. held more than half of the current
football records at the high school.  He went to Texas Tech on a football
scholarship and was now in grad school.  Though strongly attracted to his
son, Coach E had been able to hold himself back.  But Diesel was too much
for him; Diesel's hard muscled smooth body, topped with curly blonde hair,
made the coach see his son just about every time he caught a glimpse of
Diesel.  He knew Diesel would never be the spectacular player his son was,
after all, the sport Diesel really excelled in was wrestling, he was built
wider and taller than Jim Jr.  Coach E realized that no kid he'd ever
coached had the body that Diesel carried.

     Diesel turned the tables on Coach E the previous Spring by videotaping
one of their sessions with a hidden camera.  He had been intimidated into
having sex with the coach as a freshman.  But now with the threat of
exposure hanging over his head, Coach E agreed to be the "teacher" for an
Independent Study Diesel signed up for, guaranteeing an A+ each semester,
pumping up Diesel's GPA respectably.  Diesel agreed to continue the sex,
mainly because he really enjoyed it.  He got off on the fact that coach
loved the rough sex between them and he didn't have to do much at all. And
the coach seemed to get off on how Diesel did his role playing in their
heated sexual encounters.

     "The jersey, kid" said the sweating coach as he broke the kiss and
reached behind him for the baby oil.  Diesel pulled the jersey off and
tossed it on the couch.  Coach E poured some oil on one hand and began
rubbing it into Diesel's abs.  Diesel tensed his abs; coach rubbed harder
in response, "That's it Junior, make 'em hard!"  He poured more oil, rubbed
his meaty hands together, pulled Diesel into another sloppy kiss, and began
rubbing his hands over Diesel's muscled back.  He shoved his hands up under
the shoulder pads and then down underneath Diesel's tight pants, far enough
to feel the curve of Diesel's butt as it expanded outward.  Coach E groaned
into Diesel's mouth and pulled Diesel's ass toward him.


     "Coach is hornier than usual," thought Diesel as the coach fumbled
with the strings of Diesel's football pants.  Diesel could see the bald
spot forming on coach's head as the coach concentrated on getting to his
prize.  Diesel thought that for an old man somewhere in his mid- 50's,
Coach Erickson was in really good shape.  He was a couple of inches shorter
than Diesel's 6', but really firmly built.  Diesel sensed that though coach
was pretty hot now, in his day, he must have been a really hot
catch. Diesel grunted as he realized the humor in that thought, "Yes, Coach
E certainly is a catcher and not a pitcher," rolled through his mind.
Coach didn't even notice the small chuckle.

     The coach slid off the desk onto his knees as he slobbered over
Diesel's hard protective cup, having finally unlaced the pants and yanked
them down to Diesel's mid-thighs.  Diesel rubbed the back of coach's head
as the coach gnawed away with a low growl at the hard plastic.

     "Daddy, you lookin' for something?" asked Diesel.

     Coach E was getting more frenzied.  He could feel Diesel's enormous
package moving along with the cup he chewed and lapped on.  The rich aroma
of sweaty dirty boycock filled his nostrils.  Pulling away slowly, he
reached for the top of the jockstrap and put his fingers under the elastic
on top.  Instead of pulling the waist down, he ran his hands back and forth
following the curve of Diesel's waist.  The bottoms of his fingers ran
along the wet lumpy material of the strap, the tops of his fingers moving
along Diesel's smooth hot skin.  He had learned to savor moments like this.

     "Coach, I got chores to do at home," said Diesel, breaking the "game"
but eager to get his nut off and get home.  Coach E pulled the jockstrap
down angrily and watched Diesel's dick and balls spring upward and then
bounce heavily downward, almost in slow motion.
  Coach's anger floated away as he got that same thrill every time he
watched Diesel's massive package take a defiant stand once freed; he loved
fantasizing about his son having a cock the size of this teen god.
Diesel's balls churned in anticipation of a workout; the oversized tube of
teenmeat, marbled with veins that coach was sure no painter could ever
reproduce faithfully, hung downward, causing the churning balls to move
into position like two altar boys standing obediently next to a tall
priest.

     "Mmmmmmmmm," came out of coach's mouth over and over as he moved his
lips around Diesel's dick and balls.  Diesel was always amazed at how much
saliva Coach E produced.  But then again, if he didn't, Diesel wouldn't
half enjoy fucking the coach's mouth as much as he did.  Mouth?  No, Diesel
didn't fuck Coach E's mouth, he fucked the coach's throat.

     It was time.  Coach E stood and lay down lengthwise on his desk on his
back, scooting so his head hung off the edge.  He looked up at Diesel and
as always, savored the upside down sight of Diesel's meaty pecs, pressed on
by the shoulder pads strapped to his body.  Coach E reached for them as
Diesel's hardening cock aimed for the hot wet mouth begging to be entered.

     By the time Diesel had just his dickhead in Coach E's mouth, he was
already choking a bit.  This always happened.  Diesel reached forward to
rub the coach's rippled firm stomach.

     "C'mon pops, lemme in.  Just relax.  Let junior in to make a deposit,"
purred Diesel as he shoved his dick further into the furnace of a mouth.
He winced in pain as he felt coach pulling on his nipples, knowing that
this also helped coach relax his throat.

     Then came Diesel's favorite part.  He focused on the photo on the
office wall of Assistant Football Coach Anthony Cimino.  Coach C was in his
second year at the school, 27, 6'2" of hot hard and hairy prime Italian
stock.  The photo was taken in college just after Coach C had been named
All State Tight End at U of Oklahoma.  The camera caught him in midair,
ball in hand, with a huge smile on his face.  He was helmetless, wavy black
hair freeze framed in motion, wearing a cropped practice jersey flapping up
in the wind showing off the mass of dark hair on his stomach.  Between the
bottom of the cotton shorts and the tops of his striped socks, his legs
were covered with thick curly black hair.  Though the hair hid some of the
definition, you could tell he had very powerful legs.  And though it could
have been the wind or a trick of the camera lens, the photo also showed a
sizable mound inside the shorts.

     "C'mon, daddy, open up...give it up," panted Diesel as he stared at
Coach C's crotch in the photograph.  He'd been doing this long enough with
Coach E that he knew what really got the coach off was having his air
supply cut off by Diesel's huge dick in his mouth.  Diesel had never been
able to get his whole dick in Coach E's mouth; he doubted there was a mouth
and throat big enough anywhere to do that.  But he'd pump in and out of
Coach E's throat, letting streams of coach's saliva run out of his mouth
each time he pulled out, and causing a tensing of coach's body each time he
shoved back in till stopped by his own girth.  They'd tried different ways
and Diesel realized he could stuff the most of his sausage into Coach E's
mouth while the coach was on his back with his head hanging.

     Diesel put his body on autopilot as he daydreamed about sex with Coach
Cimino.  He'd never seen Coach C in the buff, but had seen enough parts at
different times to know that there probably wasn't a place on his body
without some hair, and that made Diesel really hot.  He also knew that
Coach C had kept the hard muscled body that got him named All State.  When
Coach Cimino had first arrived, Coach Erickson would sometimes, but not
often enough for Diesel's needs, have Coach C practice with the guys,
rotating positions.  Diesel got hard each time Coach C slapped him on the
ass, or rubbed the back of his neck after he'd made some great play.

     Diesel was drawn back to reality as he senses his impending climax.
He glanced down to see that Coach E had already cum, the stain on his
shorts gradually expanding.  He also sensed that Coach E had passed out.
But Diesel knew he had time so he furiously fucked Coach E's mouth and
throat.  With each forward thrust he panted out, "Tony!" while staring at
the photo.

     He came in great torrents as usual.  He felt his cum shooting into
Coach E's throat and mouth.  Some of his massive load worked its way into
Coach E's nasal passages and came out his nose, seeping into Diesel's
pubes.

     Diesel pulled out, the tip of his dick tumbling down Coach E's nose
and forehead as his head hung off the desk.  He lifted Coach E's head and
started slapping each side of his face.  "Coach, wake up, wake up, its time
to go," said Diesel.  Coach E came to life suddenly, choking.  He got off
the desk, leaned forward, and spit out strings of saliva mixed with lumps
of Diesel's cum.  Diesel put his jersey back on and headed for the locker
room.  Coach E watched Diesel's ass, with the tight blue material of the
pants painted onto the hard glutes, move slowly and sensually away.

    A week later, Coach Erickson broke his leg in 3 places in a freak
accident tripping down the bleachers in the gym.  He had emergency surgery
and found out he'd be in traction for at least 2 weeks, then start physical
therapy which could include a number of weeks on a crutch.  He was OK, but
not happy about being away from school.

     The rest of the faculty split up Coach Erickson's job, Tony Cimino
took over as head football coach.  He had a degree in Sports Physiology and
was an accomplished masseuse.  At first he was a bit scared about taking
over as head coach but quickly eased into the responsibilities, eager to
prove to Coach Erickson that when he returned, he'd find his team in top
shape and spirits.  Tony went out of his way to keep the team working hard
and in good spirits.

     "Thanks, guys," Diesel grunted as 2 of his team mates helped him sit
down on the padded table in the coach's office.  He'd pulled something
right near the end of practice and had doubled over in pain on the field.
Coach Cimino got the 2 guys to help Diesel into the office so he could
check to see if Diesel needed to go to the hospital.

     Diesel sat on the table in full uniform swearing to himself for
getting hurt.  Coach Cimino bounded in the office, set down his clipboard
on the desk, and walked over to Diesel.  "So what happened out there,
Diesel?" he asked as he put a hand on Diesel's shoulder and walked around
to face him.

     "I'm not sure, Coach C.  I was going back to catch a pass, turned to
my right and then, whammo, my leg hurt like a son of a gun and I fell
over."  Diesel focused on the mound of black curly hair spilling out of the
"v" of the unbuttoned short sleeve red polo shirt that Coach C was wearing.

     "Does it still hurt?  Where?  What kind of pain was it?"

     "Here...and yes, it still does," said Diesel as he put his hand high
up inside his right thigh.  "I just remember it was some kind of a sharp
pain.  It doesn't hurt as much now, but I can feel it."

     "Sorry, Diesel, didn't mean to hurt you," said Coach C as he pulled
his hand away from Diesel's leg following Diesel's jerk.  The touch hadn't
really hurt; Diesel was just surprised finding this Italian stud's hand
within millimeters of his teenmeat.

     "That's OK, Coach, it didn't hurt that much.  Do I have to go to the
hospital?"

     "I can't really tell without seeing your leg.  Can we take a look?"

     "Sure!"  Coach Cimino squatted down and began untying and removing
Diesel's cleats.  Diesel couldn't help but admire Coach C's ass that he
spotted by looking over coach's head as he bent over Diesel's feet.  He was
wearing those dumb polyester stretch shorts that lots of coaches wore, but
they looked mighty fine wrapped around this paisano.  Diesel worked at the
laces at his waist, remembering the countless times Coach Erickson had done
the same thing.

     Diesel held his body up using his arms pressed against the padded
table top while Coach C pulled his pants down to just above Diesel's knees.

     "Coach Erickson told me you were the strongest guy on the team and I
think you just proved it by holding yourself up in the air like that.
Those are some pretty big guns you've got there, Diesel," said Coach C as
he put a hand on each of Diesel's upper arms.

     "Thanks, coach...nice of you to notice," said Diesel with a slight
blush.

     "Now let me see," said Coach Cimino as his fingertips started gently
moving around Diesel's upper leg, "let me know when it hurts a lot."
Diesel stared at Coach Cimino's hands as they poked and prodded his skin,
and moved so close to his jockstrap.  One hand brushed the jockstrap,
Diesel let out a grunt.

     "Did that hurt?" asked the coach with a look of concern.

     "No, no, I was just clearing my throat."

     "I think I may know what the problem is.  Can I get you to lay down on
the table?" asked the coach as he helped Diesel get his legs up on the
table and pulled the football pants completely off.  Diesel laid there in
full football gear from the waist up, minus the helmet, and with only a
jockstrap on from the waist down.  On top of it, Diesel realized that it
was one of his oldest jockstraps.  So old, that where the pouch connected
to the waistband in front, the material was quite frayed and barely
connected.  Usually when one of his jocks got this beat up, Diesel saved it
to wear on special occasions when he was out on the prowl for sex with
another guy, or dancing for money in some club.  Sometimes, a guy would pay
him a lot of money for one of his beat up old jocks after he'd cum in it.
He hadn't paid attention to the sad shape this jock was in when he whipped
it on before practice.  The advantage to an old jockstrap though was that
his oversized dick and balls didn't feel as constricted in the loose pouch.
His dick was lying kind of sideways in the jockstrap.

     Diesel couldn't see over his shoulder pads but could feel Coach
Cimino's hands working in the cleft of his right leg and crotch.  One of
coach's hands started bumping regularly into Diesel's nutsack, and brushing
along his cock.  Diesel started to get hard.  He could feel his dick slowly
moving northward.  He felt it lifting up stretching the frayed material by
the waiststrap.  He started breathing more quickly realizing that he was
getting closer to a climax faster than just about anytime before in his
life.

     "Coach!" yelled Diesel.

     "Huh?  Am I hurting yo....wha??!!!??" yelled Coach Cimino as Diesel's
rock hard dick ripped through the few remaining pieces of fabric holding
the pouch to the waist of the jock, and sprayed volley after volley of cum
all over Diesel's jersey, with one shot going as far as his forehead.

     Diesel sat up, breathless, "Coach, I am so sorry!" as he stared
horrified at Coach Cimino.  Coach C was staring at Diesel's rock hard cock,
sticking up at a 45 degree angle, looking more like a salami from his
uncle's butcher shop than a dick.  It was huge! "I think it's bigger than
my own!" thought Tony.

     "No, Diesel, I'm the one who's sorry.  I was so focused on massaging
your muscle that I didn't see anything.  This was all my fault.  You're a
teenager and can get hard when the wind blows on your dick!  I've
embarrassed you and am very very sorry.  I should have been more
professional."

     Diesel hopped off the table, ignoring the slight pain in his leg, and
started wiping his jersey off with some towels lying around.  He then
pulled the jersey off over his head, and continued wiping the cum juice off
his now hanging dick, the shredded pouch hanging below it.  Then he pulled
his football pants on, leaving them unlaced.

     As he picked up the rest of his gear and started to head for the
locker room, Coach C, grabbed one of his muscled forearms, "Diesel, wait."
He used a kleenex to wipe the gob of cum still stuck to Diesel's forehead
into which a curl of his blonde hair had stuck.  "You'd have a hard time
explaining that to the rest of the guys," he said with a smile.

     Diesel half smiled at the coach and left the office. Tony watched him
leave, with the image of the huge cock ripping through the jockstrap in his
mind.  He brought the kleenex to his nose, took a whiff, and then threw it
in the garbage can.

     A week later, leg fully recovered and feeling a lot more relaxed and
cocky around Coach Cimino, Diesel was indulging himself by showering in the
coach's private stall in his office.  Coach Erickson had been letting
Diesel use it when he wanted, and Coach Cimino didn't mind any of the team
members using it.  Though it was a junior varsity practice day, Diesel had
spent the afternoon working with free weights, ending with a 30 minute run
on a treadmill.  His muscles ached from the workout, but it was that deep
satisfying ache Diesel knew meant that his body was taking care of itself,
growing and hardening.

     He'd beaten off plenty of times at home the past week going over the
sensations he felt while Coach C had worked on his leg and envisioning his
hairy body.  He'd finished soaping up and was now just letting the hot
water ripple over his hard muscles, washing the suds down the drain.
Thoughts of Coach Cimino naked and begging Diesel to fuck him entered
Diesel's mind; he began soaping his cock, feeling it harden and extend.
Suddenly the office door opened.

     "Hey, who's in my shower?  I stink and need to get myself unstunk!"
yelled Coach C good naturedly.  He spotted Diesel's wet head since the
glass shower door was only 5' high.  "Well, if it isn't my favorite hot
spring!"  The coach and Diesel had fallen into a pattern of joking about
what had happened the previous week, though there was always an edge of
tension in their wordplay.  It worked better for both of them rather than
just ignoring what had happened.  "Warn me if an eruption will happen when
you come out!"

     Diesel turned the water off, wrapped a towel around his waist and
stepped out of the shower.  He was taken aback seeing Coach Cimino sweaty,
muddied and suited up in full football gear.  He hadn't seen Coach C in
full gear since the last time he scrimmaged with the varsity players at the
end of the previous season.

     "What's the occasion?  Trying out for JV football, coach?" Diesel
asked as he started drying himself off, trying to convince himself that he
was not that aroused by the sight.  Tony set his helmet on a file cabinet
and walked toward the desk, cleats sounding on the floor, while staring at
Diesel's cut body.  He still had a hard time believing that he was looking
at the body of a teenager.  "And he's got the dick of death.  Life's just
not fair!" thought Tony, smiling to himself.

     "Every once in a while, it's a good idea for a coach to scrimmage with
his team.  I play a lot more often with the JV's rather than you varsity
guys because they're a better team," said Coach C, hoping to get a rise out
of Diesel.

    "Right...better...," said Diesel with a sly smile and a wink.

     Coach C leaned against the desk, unlaced his cleats, and pulled them
and his socks off.

     "Gee, Coach, you've got hair everywhere, even on your feet!"

     "Well, there's not much I can do about it.  It all started appearing
in junior high and shows no sign of retreating...anywhere.  I used to be
embarrassed about it, but not any more," said Coach C, now sitting on the
edge of the desk, the same edge Coach E's head hung off during all those
skull fuckings Diesel gave him.  He brought one leg up on the desk and
started massaging his calf.  Diesel mentally saw Coach C's asshole winking
in anticipation of Diesel's entry in place of Coach E's mouth.

     "Embarrassed?  How could you be embarrassed about being hairy?  I
always wished I had more hair.  This blonde stuff I've got is nothing,"
said Diesel, noting the thickness of the black hair on coach's calf.

     "Hair isn't always a blessing, my young friend.  Lots of people are
turned off by it.  My fianc‚ has made me promise that I'll get my back
waxed before our honeymoon!  It can clog up a drain.  Why, and don't tell
this to anyone, I've even caught hair in the zipper of my jeans more than
once - and that can cause quite a jolt if you're not paying attention!  And
going to the beach can cause a lot of staring. No, hairy is no bed of
roses, my friend."  Diesel slowed down his towel movement as he pictured
Coach Cimino zipping up a pair of old tight jeans trying to make sure no
hair gets caught.  His dick twitched, already half hard from the aborted
launch in the shower and seeing Coach C's ass resting where Coach E's neck
had hung...many times.
  He had no idea that at the same time, Coach C was thinking about how
amazing Diesel's almost hairless muscled body looked.

     "Besides, no body hair lets all your muscles show.  Look at you!  If
you were covered with hair, no one would be able to see how terrific your
body is, Diesel - and what you've got is something to be proud of...real
proud.  Be glad you don't have this," said Coach C as he lifted his dirty
jersey revealing his taut stomach, covered with black hair half stuck to
his skin with sweat.

     "Well, I think hair on a guy is sexy...I mean...I know lots of girls
here who think you're the hottest guy in the school, coach.  Besides,
there's nobody here who doesn't know what good shape you're in, coach, no
matter how much hair you think is hiding things!"  said Diesel as he
snapped his towel at Coach C's calf and laughed.  Coach C grabbed at the
snapping towel, instead hooking onto the one around Diesel's waist, and
pulled it off.  They stood looking at each other for a moment in
shock. Tony's eyes bore into Diesel's fat cock as it slowly swayed.

     "Warning, warning, ICBM missile spotted hovering in the coach's
office," said Tony as he grabbed his helmet, slid off the desk and ducked
behind a chair.  Diesel just started laughing, glad coach found a way to
ease the situation.  He grabbed the pump bottle of skin lotion Coach
Erickson kept on his desk, squirted some into his hands, and began rubbing
it into his left leg.

     "It surprises me the way teenagers will find some things that are good
for them completely repulsive, and yet accept others with ease," said Coach
C as he stood back up leaving the helmet on the floor, watching Diesel
applying the lotion to his skin, realizing that he found the sight pretty
arousing.  "Using a skin lotion right after a shower is the best way to
keep your skin hydrated.  Why in God's name would you actually choose to
accept that as a good thing to do, Diesel, why?  You're a teenager.  Your
job is to pay no attention to your elders."

     "Good?  I do it cuz I like the way it makes my skin shine!" chuckled
Diesel, "let's all those muscles you talk about stand out...see?"  Diesel
extended his leg and tensed the muscle.  He squirted more lotion on his
hands and began working on his left thigh.  "Hydrate?  What's a hydrate?"
he grinned.  Tony had a hard time not staring at Diesel's body as his
muscles moved sensuously under his skin as he continued to rub cream into
himself.

     Tony knew that Diesel was pulling his leg, but he was starting to feel
vaguely uncomfortable with a naked hot teenager in front of him.  He
figured it was time to jump in the shower - maybe Diesel would be done
"shining" himself and gone by the time he got out.  He stepped out from
behind the desk, and pulled off his jersey, dropping it on the floor.  As
he began unsnapping his shoulder pads, his back was to Diesel.  Diesel
stopped rubbing his leg and stared at Coach C's back.  He'd never seen hair
covering so much of a guy's back - and he found it incredibly hot.  He
noticed coach's arm and back muscles work as he worked to remove the
shoulder pads.  Coach C was a couple of inches taller than Diesel, and it
sure looked to Diesel like coach had wider shoulders than he did.  He drank
in coach's hot ass encased in the football pants and wondered about his
package up front.  Diesel was getting hard.

     "Would you get my back, coach?" asked Diesel quietly, having walked up
to the musclebound Italian who was now half dressed.  Tony had just unlaced
his pants and turned around to Diesel, a bit surprised to see the teen's
massive back about a foot in front of him.
  All kinds of danger signs went off in Tony's brain.  Here he was, an
adult, a coach, a teacher - half naked alone in his office, the door shut,
and a naked teenager, a guy, a kid, a student - asking to be touched.  Tony
shook off his fear and grabbed the lotion.  "What the hell, he's asking for
my help," he reasoned to himself.

     Diesel's hot skin quickly warmed up the cool lotion Tony had pumped
onto his hands.  As he rubbed the lotion around, replenishing more than
once, Tony automatically went into massage mode - his training caused that.
But massage training didn't tell him to enjoy running his hands over the
smooth mountainous back as much as he was.  He worked Diesel's shoulders
hard.  Diesel let out a small sound with a sigh.  Tony stared at the back
of Diesel's head.  He could tell Diesel's neck was relaxed.  The blonde
curls on Diesel's head swayed in rhythm to Tony's movements.  Tony was
getting hard.

     "Coach, you got the best hands.  Nobody's ever made my muscles feel
this good," said Diesel, almost in a whisper.  Sweat had broken out on
Tony's forehead. His hands moved, almost on their own will, to Diesel's
arms.  He took a step forward to grip them better.  Looking down, he
noticed the loose laces of his pants brushing against Diesel's bubble butt.
He also noticed Diesel tense his ass cheeks - more than once.

     "My back...again...please," said Diesel as he bent forward slightly.
Tony got more lotion and rubbed Diesel's shoulder blades.  Diesel's bare
ass was now pressing against the shiny material covering Tony's crotch.
Tony was completely hard, and leaking, but he knew Diesel would have no
idea of that since he had his pants on and his support cup was in place.

     Diesel could sense that Tony was aroused by his breathing - deep and a
little ragged.  He stood up and slowly turned his naked body to face the
coach, his dick noticeably longer and jutting outward.

     "Do my front, coach, I'm tense...please," Diesel focused his blue eyes
on Tony's brown eyes.  Tony's hands dropped to his side.  He wanted to
stop...desperately.  Diesel picked up the bottle of lotion, squirted 2
pumps, slowly, onto each of his own pecs, set the bottle down, and placed
each of Tony's hands on a pec.  "Do me, coach...do me."

     Tony went into massage mode and worked Diesel's pecs.  They were meaty
enough that working on them while standing was a real pleasure.  Diesel
would tense them to hardness, causing Tony to work harder, then he'd relax
them.  Each time he relaxed, both men moaned quietly.

     Diesel picked up the bottle of lotion, unscrewed the top, and poured a
liberal amount into one of his hands.  Setting the bottle down, he poured
some of the lotion into his other hand, then slapped both of them onto
Tony's hairy stomach and immediately started working the lotion into the
hair, pleasantly surprised to find the hair soft and silky.  He could feel
the coach's hard abs under the mat of hair.  He moved his hands in circular
wet motions lower...and lower.

     "Please, Diesel...no...don't...please," pleaded Tony, helpless to stop
things.

     "Please...yes...that's what I want to do, coach...please you,"
whispered Diesel, his face now inches from Tony's.  Tony continued
massaging Diesel's pecs, focusing on Diesel's nipples, without realizing
it, he started to gently tug and squeeze them.  Diesel forced Tony's pants
completely open in front and pulled them down slightly.  He next pulled the
plastic cup of the jockstrap off and tossed it aside.  He grabbed the
bottle of lotion, pulled out the waistband of Tony's jock, and dumped in
some lotion.  Tony hissed and his hands froze on Diesel as the cool lotion
hit his rock hard cock through his thick pubic hair.  Diesel quickly put
the bottle down and forced his hands into the jockstrap, squishing the
lotion into the mass of hair, and onto what he was pleased to discover, was
an oversized Italian cum gun.  He worked it slowly into an up position.
"Oh, yeah, this guy's got a dick on him!" thought Diesel.

     Diesel's own dick was cocked and ready to go.  He stepped closer to
the coach, panting face to face, pulled the pouch of the jockstrap open on
the side, and slipped his dick in.  The two torpedoes pulsed next to each
other.  Primal instincts took over as they pressed their crotches together,
locked mouths, and wrapped their arms around each other.  Diesel's slick
hands coated Tony's back hair as he slowly moved his hands on the coach's
back.  Their tongues angrily duelled.

     The men rutted.  Each moved toward his own goal.  The other man was a
tool used to reach the end zone.  They broke the kiss and again, on
instinct, moved their heads to each other's left and locked their mouths
onto each other's necks.  Tony moaned and spit saliva.  Diesel bit.

     The bite caused Tony to reach the goal post first.  He howled as he
shot his first round.  As he pulsed more and more cocksnot, Diesel joined,
adding an even larger amount of warm cum to the mix.  Tony's jockstrap was
completely soaked in cum.

     After about 30 seconds of gradually slowed down breathing, Diesel slid
his hands into the back of Tony's loose pants, cupping a hard and, he was
pleased to discover, hairy ass.  He moved his sweaty face so that he was
facing his coach.

     "Coach... coach...Tony?" said Diesel as he gripped Tony's chin.  Tony
stared at Diesel, like a deer in headlights.  "OK if I call you
Tony...Tony?  Just when it's you and me of course.  I really liked this
hydration exercise - hope you did - hope you want more.  And if you'd like
the school board to hear about our exercise, or Coach Erickson, that can be
arranged.  But I don't think you want that - do you, Tony?"

     Tony shook his head No.

     "Good.  Neither do I.  I like doin' stuff with you, coach.  You're a
real inspiration," said Diesel as he continued rubbing Tony's hairy ass
inside the football pants.  "I'd like to be an All State Tight End like you
some day.  Think I'll ever be as good a tight end as you...Tony" asked
Diesel with a grin as he started rubbing his index finger along Tony's
asscrack.

     Tony was so confused at the moment.  He was not only dealing with the
fact that he'd just had some wild sex with one of his male students, and he
really liked it, but he was now thinking about what trouble he'd be in if
anyone found out.  He feared that Diesel's version would be accepted more
than the truth.  And, he kept coming back to the fact that he had liked
what just happened.

     "Let's see what I need to shoot for," said Diesel as be forced Tony
backwards and onto the desk.  He yanked off Tony's pants, "You won't need
these for a while."  Tony's fat cock rested on his abs.

     "Diesel, don't, please...let's..." said Tony, now completely naked,
laying on his back on the desk with Diesel hovering over him.  He knew he
could overpower the kid, but that could lead to a fight, with bruises and
blood, and who'd be believed in the end?

     "Let's what, coach, let's what?" asked Diesel and he pressed between
Tony's firm pecs with one hand, forcing him to stay flat, and rubbed the
fingers of his other hand up and down Tony's sweaty hairy trench stopping
to press each digit lightly on the puckered doorway, and glancing at Tony's
sagging nuts.  "I say it's time to let's see how tight of a tight end you
are."  Diesel shoved a finger into Tony's ass.  Tony responded with a blood
curdling scream.

     "Sounds like no one's been in your end zone in a while," said Diesel.
He pulled his finger out and shoved it again, harder.  Another scream.
"Maybe never," whispered Diesel as he pulled out his finger, picked up
Coach E's bottle of baby oil and poured some on his rock hard dick.

     "Look, Tony, I'm gonna score with this," said Diesel as he looked down
and slathered the baby oil on his dick.  Tony lifted his head, not able to
lift any more of himself with Diesel still pressing forcefully on his
chest, and stared wide eyed at the glistening rod.

     Before Tony had a chance to react further, Diesel grabbed each Tony's
thighs, pulled Tony toward him so that his legs ended up propped against
the sides of Diesel's shoulders, and then quickly reached forward between
Tony's legs and pinned him to the desk by locking onto each of Tony's
muscular shoulders.  His angry red dickhead was pressed against Tony's
puckered asshole. Tony's cock shrunk a bit.

     "Coach, lemme in.  You can enjoy this or I can rip you apart.  It's
your choice.  Pretend you're taking a shit.  C'mon, it'll make it a lot
easier...and believe me, you're gonna love it," Diesel purred as he
rhythmically pressed his cockhead against Tony's wet hairy asshole.

     Tony thought quickly that if he pretended to give in, he could catch
Diesel at a weak point and turn the tables.  He just wanted this whole
horrible thing to end.  He pressed down as if he was shitting.

     "Aaaiiiiggggghhhhh!" came out of Tony's mouth at a pitch higher than
he'd ever hit in his life.  Diesel had felt the slight relaxation of Tony's
asshole and shoved forward as hard as he could getting half his dick inside
Tony's shit chute.

     "Easy, coach, easy.  Lay still," said Diesel as he massaged Tony's
shoulders.  Tony's plan went completely out of his head as he experienced
the pain of Diesel's telephone pole shooting into his ass.  He couldn't
remember ever feeling that much pain at one time.
  And Diesel was overcome with that almost drugged feeling of how good it
felt to have his cock inside the warm furnace of an ass.  He pulled out
slowly, enjoying the excruciating pleasure of Tony's warm insides pressing
and shifting for his retreating battering ram.  When just his head was
still inside, Diesel reversed and pressed forward, groaning with the
pleasurable feeling as Tony's insides parted for his rod on its journey
inward.  He pulled out again, slowly, and pressed in again, slowly.  Again.
And again.  Diesel sensed Tony's body relaxing slightly.  He took a moment
to admire the firm torso in front of him.  By now, sweat had matted most of
Tony's hair to his body.  Diesel could easily make out the ridges of
coach's six pack, and his smooth firm pecs, their arcs interrupted only by
the hard nipples standing at attention.

     "That's it, coach.  See?  What did I tell you?  Feels good, doesn't
it?" asked Diesel quietly and soothingly.  Without interrupting his
fucking, working to get more of his dick inside Tony's ass with each
thrust, he moved one hand to the center of Tony's chest, picked up the
bottle of baby oil with the other, and poured some on Tony's crotch.  He
set the bottle down, moved a hand to each of Tony's pecs and started
massaging them.  He grunted as he worked Tony's hairy pecs while keeping
his eyes on the thick clear oil spreading over Tony's flaccid cock and
coating his pubic hair.

     Tony jerked and let out a yelp.  "Joy button, Tony, I just hit your
joy button.  Here, I'll do it again," said Diesel as he pumped his hips
forward, pulling on Tony's nipples at the same time.  Tony yelped again as
his breathing began to deepen.  Tony no longer felt pain, but his ass felt
incredibly full - a feeling he'd never had before. Whatever that 'joy
button' was, Tony wanted Diesel to hit it again and again.

     Diesel was pretty sure that Tony had given himself over to the fuck
and moved one of his hands to Tony's crotch.  He started to massage Tony's
relaxed shaft.  He let out a groan as he noticed that some of the oil he'd
poured onto Tony had run down over his ballsack and had now reached
Diesel's dick as it moved more quickly in and out of Tony's oven, adding
more lubrication to the works.  Tony's dick started to respond to the
muscleboy's hand working it.  Diesel sensed his coming climax.  Though he
tried to slow his thrusts to extend the pleasure, his need to nut was
greater.  He let go of Tony's dick, grabbed either side of Tony's waist and
fucked senselessly in and out of the warm tunnel of flesh.  At the last
minute, he pulled out, grabbed his steel hard cock with both hands and
began pumping it.

     All Tony realized that the thing giving him great pleasure in his ass
was suddenly gone.  In his sexual stupor he raised himself up on his
elbows, asking, "Diesel?"

     Diesel grunted with each spurt of cum racing out of his dick.  He
jetted lines of hot cum all over Tony's stomach, chest, and neck.  He even
landed a glob on one of Tony's cheeks.  As his dick reached the point where
the cum came out of his slit like a slow faucet, Diesel fell forward and
mashed his mouth against Tony's as they kissed passionately.

     Lips still locked, Diesel lifted Tony off the desk and moved him to
the floor.  Their bodies were in full contact.  Diesel slid his hard
muscled body on top of Tony's, focusing on their crotches.  Tony's arms
were wrapped around Diesel, roaming his smooth muscled back.

     Diesel broke the kiss and held his head a few inches above Tony's.  As
he spoke, sweat dripped from his face onto Tony's.  "So, how was it, coach?
How did you like having a fat hot teen dick up your ass?  Did you like
those fireworks?"  Tony responded by lifting his head with an open mouth.
Diesel met his begging lips with the force of his own, raping Tony's mouth
with his tongue. Diesel kept up the sliding motion on top of Tony, staying
hard because of the sensual feeling of all that cum coated hair rubbing
against his smooth skin.  Diesel felt Tony hardening quickly.  Diesel broke
the kiss again, slid a hand between their bodies, and grabbed Tony's dick.

     "Turnaround is fair play, huh, coach?  How 'bout I give up my ass to
your Italian sausage?  You ready for the fuck of your life?" Diesel asked
as he raised himself, breaking the cum seal between them to bring himself
to a seated position facing Tony.  Diesel slid his ass back and forth along
Tony's dick, trapped between the muscleboy's asscheeks.  He was still rock
hard.

     "Yeah, this big thing was what was giving you pleasure," said Diesel
as he grabbed his cock with one hand as Tony's raised head stared.  "And
now you're gonna do the same for me," continued Diesel as he slid back
enough to be able to grab Tony's dark hard sausage.  Before reaching for
the baby oil, Diesel slid Tony's shoulder pads underneath his head.  He
wanted to make sure Tony got to see what was happening along with feeling
it.  Diesel poured baby oil liberally onto Tony's dick while caressing it
with his other hand.  This whole time, Tony's hands roamed back and forth
along what he could reach of Diesel's legs.  The sexual workout they had
gone through had both men pumped.  Tony was now enthralled looking at
Diesel's sweaty muscled body.  The physical activity now caused veins to
pop out all over Diesel's body that Tony's eyes hungrily travelled along.

     Diesel set the oil down and got into a crouched position, holding
Tony's massive pole aimed upward toward Diesel's approaching muscled ass.
Diesel stopped as Tony's piss slit kissed his pucker.  Diesel eased his
asshole open just enough to let in about half of Tony's flared cockhead,
then pulled off.  He did it again.  Third time, he let the whole head pop
in, squeezed, and then pulled off.  Tony was breathing heavily and started
fucking motions upward, eager to get that feeling on his dick again.

     "Slow down, coach.  Let me show you how it's done.  I know what I'm
doin'" said Diesel, staring at Tony, crouched over the heaving Italian
stud, rubbing a hand on Tony's chest. "You just keep an eye on your
missile, 'K, Tony?"  Diesel started sliding Tony's cock into his ass.  Tony
bent his head backwards, let out a groan, and shoved his pelvis up.

     "I told you, let ME do it, Tony!" yelled Diesel as he quickly pulled
himself off of Tony's dick, placing his hands behind him, pressing down on
Tony's hips to keep him flat on the floor.

     "I'm sorry, Diesel.  Please...get on me again...please...my dick..."
pleaded Tony.

     Diesel began his descent once again.  Halfway down he stopped and
squeezed his ass ring, getting a yelp out of Tony.  Tony just stared at his
dark vein covered dick, as it disappeared from sight millimeter by
agonizing millimeter.  He'd fucked plenty of women in his life, but no
pussy, EVER felt this good.  He sensed an almost constant stream of precum
pouring out into Diesel's chute.

     "Ready?"

     Tony nodded.

     Diesel slid all the way home, slamming his smooth ass onto Tony's
pubes.  As Diesel anticipated, Tony went into overload and pushed up so
hard with his pelvis that he lifted all of Diesel's weight almost a foot in
the air.  For a minute, Diesel felt like he was riding a bull at a rodeo.
Diesel also knew he had to squeeze Tony's dick as hard as he could.

     When Diesel's hard ass slammed down, Tony's mind went blindingly white
and he felt his balls shoot upward and cum moving toward his cock at
lightening speed.  He thrust upward and began involuntarily pumping his
cum.  But something happened.  Something was putting such force on the base
of his dick, that his pumps weakened.  He lifted his torso, locked eyes
with Diesel and realized what was going on.

     "We wanna make this last a bit, don't we, Tony?" asked Diesel as he
gradually released his ass's vice like grip on Tony's torpedo.  Tony
groaned and fell back to the floor, his head banging onto the shoulder
pads.

     "Tony...don't worry...I told you, you're gonna love this.  Watch."
Diesel started to stand up from his seated position.  Tony stared, his
mouth slack, spittle in each corner, as he watched his dick appearing
magically in front of him.  Diesel rose so that only Tony's head was still
inside the furnace.  Tony stared back and forth between his tower of a dick
and Diesel's hardened member pointing upwards from Diesel's crotch.  Diesel
had been balancing himself with a hand on each of Tony's upraised knees.
He grabbed his oiled dick with one hand and started to slowly pump it.

     "Yeah, feast your eyes on all this, coach.  Your dick locked into my
ass and me pumping myself...just for you."  Diesel's cock burped out some
precum that made a slow stringy descent to Tony's hairy abs.  Tony reached
forward with one hand and rubbed the precum into his stomach.

     Diesel started a very slow descent, still beating his own cock with
one hand.  A couple of inches before bottoming out, he dropped to Tony's
body, causing Tony to grunt.  Diesel pressed his own cock forward till it
was lying on Tony's stomach and started rubbing it back a forth sideways
along Tony's abs.  Tony grabbed Diesel's cock with both hands, took it away
from Diesel, and started pumping it.

     "Fuck!  I've never felt anything like this in my life!" bellowed Tony
as he stared at the huge slippery teen cock in his hands. He pumped a shot
of precum into Diesel's scalding insides.  Diesel responded with a squeeze.
Diesel leaned forward placing a hand on the floor on either side of the
prone Italian bringing his face close to Tony's.

     "Let's say we go for the extra point, huh, coach?" Tony had locked
eyes with Diesel and just nodded in response.  Diesel pushed himself up
slightly and started fucking himself on Tony's dick.  He'd squeeze his ass
ring on each journey down, pull up, and then begin again.  Tony had let go
of Diesel's dick and his hands were now roaming over the hairless hard
torso hovering above him.  Diesel started moving faster.  Tony's entire
body began quivering each time Diesel went on his upward journey.  As he
moved faster, Diesel moved his hands to Tony's chest, landing on his pecs,
each hand grabbing a handful of hairy flesh to hold on to.

     Diesel fucked faster.  The muscles in his arms bunched as he squeezed
Tony's pecs, pulling on the hair there.  Tony's eyes rolled back in his
head, he let go of Diesel's chest.  In unison, Tony's arms and legs went
rigid and lifted in the air as he climaxed.  He shot load after load after
load into Diesel's steamy ass, his arms and legs twitching with each pump.
His mouth opened wide in a silent scream, the veins in his neck looking
like they were about to pop.  He passed out.

     Diesel sat on Tony's now relaxed body getting his breathing under
control.  He started to stand, wobbled, and slid back down onto Tony's
still hard dick.  He was exhausted.  Diesel used his strong arms to drag
himself backwards between Tony's outstretched legs, freeing himself from
Tony's torpedo with a pop.  As he rested a moment, breathing a bit more
regularly, he felt the mixture of Tony's cum and his own juices dribbling
out of his asshole onto the office floor.  He pulled himself up to a
standing position, holding on to the desk and stared down at Tony.

     "You are one hot fuck, you hairy paisano. And you're not an All State
Tight End.  Buddy, you are one All Fuckin' American Tight End!"  Diesel
picked up the towel Tony had pulled off of him, wrapped it around his neck,
and headed for the office shower.  As he grabbed the handle, he turned back
to Tony and said to the drowsy coach, "Hey, Tony, join me if you want.  I
promise to drop the soap at least once."



NOTE: I wanted to thank those of you who have given me feedback on my
Diesel stories so far.  I appreciate your telling me the parts of the
stories that you like.  Please feel free to give me suggestions for
situations that Diesel could find himself in.  Tell me things you'd like to
see happen.  Allen at tutus69@hotmail.com