Date: Sat, 21 May 2016 08:56:48 +0000 (UTC) From: jhtravus@yahoo.com Subject: Horny Exchange Student Chapter 31 If you guys want me to continue this story, you have to let me know you're out there! Let me know what you want to see! jhtravus@yahoo.com Chapter 31 The head of athletics department Dan Jackson couldn't help but whistle to himself with an extra spring in his step as he made his way through the Williams household, downstairs and into the kitchen. He passed the giant window overlooking the driveway on his way through the dining room; the sun was just beginning to rise, bringing a welcomed warmth after an uncharacteristically cold Sacramento Valentine's Day evening. Not that two certain couples hadn't managed to find a way to make their own heat, that is. When he walked into the kitchen he was startled to see Mike Williams seated at the table, a big pot of fresh coffee sitting in the center, making him stop mid-whistle. "If I didn't know any better I'd say my old curmudgeony buddy Dan's been possessed by a giant Teletubby on Prozac or something." Mr. Williams laughed. "Morning Mike." Coach Jackson chuckled with him as he sat down. "Glad to know I'm not the only old fart around here who can't sleep in past sunrise." "Nah, you're in good company, Dan. Here." He said as he poured him a cup of coffee. "Cheers, Mike." "You know, there's only one reason a man whistles with a big grin on his face like that before the sun's even up. I trust someone had a good Valentine's Day last night?" "Ah hell, is it really that obvious?" Coach Jackson blushed, shaking some sugar into his mug. "Just a little." "Yeah, well what can I say? No offense Mike, but I swear that kid of yours is an asshole 99% of the time." Mr. Williams shook his head, laughing. "But that 1%. . . " Coach Jackson shrugged, smiling. "He manages to knock it out of the park." "Glad to hear it, Dan. Honestly." "Ah shit, Mike, I keep forgetting I'm talking to my boyfriend's dad and not just a buddy or something." "Oh come on, Dan, I think we're past the formalities at this point, wouldn't you say?" "Yeah, I guess you're right." Coach Jackson laughed. "Just . . . suffice it to say that that kid of yours gave me one hell of a Valentine's Day to remember." "Sure sounds like it." "Yeah, I mean I'm not into that sappy, lovey dovey shit-" "You don't say, Dan. . ." "But if that's Brad Williams's version of lovey dovey then call me Julia fucking Roberts or whoever's in all that chick flick shit these days." "I think I'll stick with calling you Dan for now, thanks." "Ah, fuck off Mike." Coach Jackson grinned, sipping on his coffee. He fumbled with his napkin a bit as he set his cup down. "So uh. . . Williams and I. . . We kind of used the "L-word" last night. . ." He couldn't bring himself to look at the reaction from the man sitting across the table from him. Mr. Williams immediately burst out laughing. "Hey, what the fuck, bud? I'm laying it all out on the line here!" Coach Jackson said, thrown for a loop. "Your face, Dan! It's like you're telling me you only have three weeks to live or something!" "Jesus Mike, this isn't easy for me, okay? Lay off of me for a bit." "Alright alright, sorry Dan." Mr. Williams assured him, composing himself. "I think it's great, by the way. Congratulations." "Yeah, well it's not like he's gonna wife me up any time soon, but I just. . . I don't know. . ." "You're happy about it." Mr. Williams said, finishing his sentence for him. "You've been seeing someone for a while now and you finally told each other that you love each other. And you're happy about it. Hell, you're fucking giddy about it. And you should be." "Yeah." Coach Jackson grinned. "I guess I am." "You know, Ollie and I called this months ago." Mr. Williams said, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair, bringing his cup to his mouth. "No shit?" Coach Jackson breathed a little easier now. "Totally. I know my son. He's never felt like this about anyone before. Ever." "Well shit, Mike." "Mmhmm." Mr. Williams nodded. "Like it or not, you two are really in this thing." "Ah fuck, I got so caught up in everything about me and the kid, I didn't even ask how your night went. Did you and Africa stay in and watch Jeopardy while knitting matching sweaters or whatever the fuck it is you two do for fun?" "I'll have you know I walked downstairs into this kitchen with the same spring in my step, Dan." Mr. Williams laughed, finishing his coffee and setting it down. "And for the same reason you did." "Now that's more like it, buddy!" "Yeah. . . Ollie sure made sure the two of us had a pretty special Valentine's Day." "Those little fuckers. . ." Coach Jackson smirked. "If I didn't know any better I'd say the two of them planned the whole thing together. Had it all figured out from the get-go." "And are you complaining, Dan?" Mr. Williams asked, not fully coming out and explicitly stating what they both knew had happened between closed doors the previous night for the two of them, but meeting his gaze with a knowing look. "Fuck no." Coach Jackson grinned. "You know what, Mike?" "What is it, Dan?" "I think I may head upstairs and wake up that asshole kid of yours and give him a little token of my appreciation for all the effort he went through last night." "You know, I was sort of thinking of doing the same thing." Mr. Williams nodded, pushing his chair in, a smile spreading across his face. "Thanks for the coffee, bud. I'm really starting to enjoy our talks." He extended his hand and Mr. Williams shook it, smiling. "Although if I'm not too careful, my boyfriend's old man might get the impression I'm too much of an easy lay if I come down and share a coffee with him every morning after I get laid." "Now Dan, I'm not a complete moron. It's not like my son's seeing you for your bedside manner." "Yeah yeah. . . " Coach Jackson smirked, making his way out the door. "More like your 'manners in bed'." Mr. Williams quipped, following him out. "Alright alright, I'll let you have that one, Mike." Coach Jackson laughed. "Now if you and my son went out for an innocent burger and you dropped him off safely at home before 10 and not follow him up to his room then THAT would be out of character. . . " "I said I'd let you have ONE, Mike, so keep your mouth shut." Coach Jackson laughed as they headed up the stairs. "Besides, from what Africa tells me you're just as easy as I am. Hell, not even I've been getting laid every single night for the past six months." "Beats me why the hell not." Mr. Williams shrugged. "I highly recommend it. I feel like I'm in my twenties." He winked. "Yeah, well that asshole kid of yours has a big enough ego already without the satisfaction of getting his balls drained every single day. Gotta keep him on his toes and not completely spoil him. You know, keep the chase alive." "The chase, huh?" Mr. Williams laughed. "Is that what you call leaving a spare toothbrush in the bathroom and throwing out half of his clothes so you could hang up a couple of coach uniforms in his closet in case you need to leave for school in a rush without getting a chance to go home and change before work?" "What, are you gonna start charging me rent, bud?" Coach Jackson chuckled. "Because I do okay but I gotta say, I'm not too keen on splitting the upkeep on a 3-story mansion that might as well have belonged to Bruce fucking Wayne before he decided to downsize." "We'll work out the finances another day, Dan." Mr. Williams laughed with him. "As far as I'm concerned, you've had a great part in making sure my eligible, good-looking, quarterback son hasn't gone out and gotten some cheerleader pregnant, so for now that's payment enough." "I don't know, Mike, I can't promise that perpetually horny kid of yours isn't gonna get me pregnant one of these days. He sure as hell's been trying. At this rate it's just a matter of time now." Mr. Williams couldn't help but laugh. "Although if you're feeling charitable, Mike, could you spring for a bigger bed over in Williams's room? I mean I can barely fit as it is and that asshole kid of yours steals all the covers every goddamn night I stay over." They had reached the top of the stairs and stopped at the landing. "I'm afraid you're just going to have to find a way to push through for now, Dan." Mr. Williams smiled. And with that, he turned to go down the hall toward his room. "So what, Williams and I are just supposed to slum it and fuck on some crummy twin while you and Africa are living it up in there on some royal canopy that may as well have been ripped straight out of the fucking Taj Mahal?" He called out to him as he stood there at the landing. "Just remember, Dan. The things we do for love." Mr. Williams answered him, waving him off with a hand as he rounded the corner. "Yeah. . . " Coach Jackson muttered to himself, shaking his head with a slight grin. "The things I do for love." - Brad Williams slowly started to stir as the suctioning lips on his fat cock brought him out of his deep slumber. He opened his eyes to find his hulking figure of authority, Dan Jackson, kneeling over him, propping himself up on one muscled arm as he deep-throated his athlete to the hilt. "Well good morning to you too, Coach." Brad smirked as he started to fuck Coach Jackson's mouth. "If I'd have known I'd wake up to getting head like this after last night I might have given it up for you a long time ago." "You fucking kidding me, Williams?" Coach Jackson muttered, running his tongue up and down the length of his athlete's mighty cock. "After a night like last night you're gonna be waking up getting head like this for the next week straight." "I can definitely live with that." Brad grinned, crossing his arms behind his head as he enjoyed the sensations his coach's efforts on his cock was giving him. "You don't even have to fucking move, Williams." Coach Jackson told him, holding him down with his rippled arm. "You just sit back and let me work over this fat jock cock, you understand?" "Sir yes sir." Brad smirked, closing his eyes and resting his head back. - Over in the master bedroom the handsome and sophisticated Mike Williams had been working over my big black cock for over 10 minutes before he pulled me out of my slumber. "So it wasn't a dream. . . " I said groggily as I ruffled his hair through my fingers. "Good morning, stud." He grinned at me as he licked all the way down my sizable shaft with his tongue. "I'll say." He sank my cock down all the way down his throat and I threw my head back in ecstasy. "What's all this for?" I asked, through gritted teeth. "Nothing." Mr. Williams smiled at me warmly. "I just realized how special you are to me." He let my cock drop and rest against my stomach as he pulled up to me and kissed me on the lips, smiling. We made out with each other for a few minutes before I pulled away from him. "Honestly Mr. Williams, you know I could make out with you all day long, but I was kind of enjoying the blow job." I teased him, grinning at him. "Oh, I see how it is." He laughed, kissing down my stomach and getting back to my cock again. I looked over at the alarm clock on the bedside table. Yeah. I was definitely coming around to the idea waking up at 7:00 am. - Dan Jackson stared down at the stack of paperwork he had in front of him, his eyes glazing over as he finished what felt like the 600th page, with at least just as much of it left to go, waiting to be filled out. He tried his best to ignore the growls coming from his stomach, determined to finish a few dozen more before he took his lunch break before the next period started. "Knock knock." He heard from his office door. He looked up to find Brad Williams leaning against the door, hands in his pockets with a smug look on his face. "Oh this oughtta be good. . . What do you want, Williams?" Coach Jackson grunted from his desk, looking back down at his paperwork. "That depends, Coach, do you want the truth or some bullshit answer that won't piss you off?" "Since when has pissing me off ever stopped you from doing something before, Williams?" Coach Jackson replied, not even bothering to look up. "Alright, I'll just give it to you straight then, Coach. I was sitting in Physics class and I couldn't stop thinking about your throat around my cock this morning and I got boned up hard." He gripped his tenting erection through his jeans. Coach Jackson put his pen down. "And what, you just figured since you're Brad fucking Williams that you could stop by my office during my lunch break and you'd get your dick sucked, just like that?" He crossed his arms and smirked at his athlete. "Tell me I'm wrong." His athlete countered, looking him right in right in the eye. For a while Coach Jackson said nothing as they silently looked each other over from across the room, sizing the other up. "Lock the fucking door." Coach Jackson muttered, leaning back in his chair. His athlete gave him a smirk and reached behind him, followed by an audible click. He stood up and slowly made his way over to his athlete, stopping right in front of him, looking down at him, menacingly. "You cocksure son of a bitch." He muttered, leaning in to thrust his tongue in his mouth. Brad Williams continued to make out with his hulking authority figure as he reached around his mighty torso to grab onto the big, round, mighty glutes. Coach Jackson's stomach gave another loud growl and he pulled himself away for a second. "I'm skipping my lunch break for this, you ass." "You work my dick with that throat of yours like you did this morning and I'll make sure you've got plenty to tide you over." Brad replied. "Fuckin' teenagers." Coach Jackson shook his head as he felt the rock-hard prick grinding against his side that he had already drained once today. "All that hard work I put into getting this thing to go down this morning. . . I feel like I'm playing whack-a-mole with this thing." He looked his athlete in the eye and got down on his knees as he undid the belt buckle and zipper standing in his way of that fat jock cock he craved so much. The second he undid the button he was almost hit smack in the face. "Christ, Williams, you'd think this thing's gone weeks without any attention and not drained just a few hours ago this morning." Coach Jackson laughed, licking around the head. "Come on, Coach, the bell's going to ring soon." Brad said, grabbing the back of his superior's head and pulling him onto his cock, forcefully. Coach Jackson's athletic reflexes kicked in and he opened his throat to accommodate the jock dick currently pushing down his throat. He pulled off, red in the face. "You do that again and it's the last fucking thing you do, Williams." He warned his athlete, staring up at him intimidatingly. Brad gave him a smirk and reached his hand around Coach Jackson's head again and pulled him even harder onto his dick this time, making sure to get a few good throat fuck thrusts in before releasing him again. "WILLIAMS, WHAT DID I FUCKING JUST SAY." Coach Jackson shouted at him, saliva hanging from his lips down to his athlete's cock. The same smirk formed on his athlete's face as he pulled his superior back down on his jock cock; Coach Jackson's velvet throat working his dick head like it was his job. Coach Jackson pulled off of him yet again, panting heavily and wiping his face. He knelt there on his knees breathing in and out as he stared up at his athlete, red in the face. "Aw fuck, do it again, Williams." Brad Williams needed no further invitation. For the next five minutes he held his athletic director's face in place as he fucked in and out of him as he pleased. Coach Jackson had always had a certain affinity for sucking jock cock but the pleasure he was receiving from working over his star quarterback's cock at this very moment was on a new level. "You know what would be hot, Coach?" Brad said, watching as his coach licked up and down the length of his dick. "Yeah, Williams?" He rubbed his shoe along the sizable mound in Coach Jackson's wind-shorts, leaving nothing to the imagination. The flimsy fabric could barely contain what was inside, straining against the seams. He brought Coach Jackson's fat index finger to his mouth and sucked on it gently. "I want you to slip your finger inside your cunt while you suck me off, Coach." He could swear he saw his hulking superior's dick jump in his shorts. "Aw fuck yeah, Williams." Coach Jackson huffed, easily pulling them down with one hand, his rock hard beer-can cock swinging out, as he brought his index finger up to his exposed opening, taking in a deep breath. "That's it, Coach." Brad encouraged him, sliding his dick down Coach Jackson's throat as Coach Jackson slowly pushed his finger through his hole. "Mmmm. . . ." Coach Jackson moaned as he sank his finger in, keeping his throat open for his athlete to use. "How's that feel, Coach?" Coach Jackson just moaned in response as he sucked on his athlete's cock with renewed vigor, loving the sensation he was experiencing both in his throat and in his ass. "Add another finger, Coach." His athlete told him, watching him intently as he fucked himself on his probing digit. "Aww fuck, Williams. . ." Coach Jackson whined in pleasure as he slipped another finger in. "That's it, Coach. Slide them in and out of your pussy while you're sucking my jock cock." Coach Jackson nodded as he worked his athlete's cock over with his throat muscles. They went on for a few more minutes. Coach Jackson's world-class blowjob was making it increasingly more difficult for Brad Williams to keep from cumming down the giant man's throat. But he couldn't just yet. "Does that feel good, Coach?" He asked, watching from above as Coach Jackson continued to pleasure himself. "You've got me so fucking boned, Williams." Coach Jackson nodded, his rock-hard cock dripping sap onto the floor. "Then why don't you add another finger." It wasn't a request. Coach Jackson stopped for a moment, realizing what was happening. "Come on, Coach, you know you want it." Coach Jackson pulled off of his athlete's cock, freeing it from the confines of his throat for the first time in ages. He looked his athlete right in the eyes as he added another finger, not able to hide his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he slid three fingers in and out of his hole. Immediately he swallowed his athlete's cock again, with even greater pleasure than before. "Slow down, Coach, I don't want to cum just yet." Brad said, pulling back and slapping his rock hard cock along Coach Jackson's face. Coach Jackson tried his best to catch it with his tongue, wanting that thick jock cock down his throat where it belonged, but his athlete evaded his advances. "What's it gonna take to let me cum, Williams?" Coach Jackson whined, working his hole over with increased speed. "Another finger?" His athlete just stared down at him. "Come on, Williams, let me put another in." Coach Jackson begged him, not even caring how desperate he sounded. "Please. . ." He had four fingers pressed against his opening, waiting obediently for permission to push through. "Alright, Coach, give yourself another." Brad nodded. "But you're going to make me cum before you shoot your load, got it?" "Aw fuck yeah, Williams. . ." Coach muttered, sticking his tongue out as invitation for his athlete to slide his dick down his throat. In one thrust Brad Williams had all eight and a half inches of thick jock cock down his superior's throat, thrusting into Coach Jackson's face. He could feel Coach Jackson's massive body shaking as he fucked himself on his fingers while jacking himself off. Brad Williams's need to cum could be put off no longer. Coach Jackson's throat massaged his dick with complete expertise and control and after waiting as long as he could, he felt the first shot escape him and start flooding down the giant man's throat. Immediately he pulled out and started shooting all over his hulking superior's face, completely drenching the man in jock cum. Not a split second behind, Coach Jackson started spraying everywhere, furiously fucking himself with four fat fingers as he shot everything around them in sight. He lapped at his athlete's cock greedily, cleaning it off and reaping the reward for his efforts. They caught their breath for the next few minutes, Coach Jackson's ministrations on his athlete's cock with his throat growing fainter and fainter as they cooled down. Once he was sure he had siphoned every last drop of jock cum, he finally pulled off of it and sat back, sighing. "Ah, you fucker, you jizzed all over my fucking shirt!" Coach Jackson yelled, trying his best to wipe himself off before it set in. "Sorry Coach." His athlete panted, halfheartedly as he came down from his high. "Jesus, Williams, you already had your balls drained once this morning, how is it possible that you can hose my fucking shirt down like this already?" Coach Jackson grunted, frustrated, as he dabbed a few spots with a towel. "What can I say, Coach, I've got a healthy sex-drive." Brad shrugged, pulling up his pants and buckling his belt. "Fuckin' teenagers. . ." Coach Jackson shook his head again as he cleaned himself off. "Now would you fuck off and let me eat my lunch before the bell rings?" He opened up a drawer on the right side of his desk and hoisted a big paper bag out of it, setting it down with a thud. "Whatcha got there, Coach?" Brad asked, walking back over to him. "It's my fucking lunch, Williams, what the fuck does it look like?" His eyes glanced over to the clock hanging above the door. "And I've got about four minutes to scarf it down thanks to you and your constant need to get your fucking balls drained." "I could eat." His athlete shrugged, sitting on the side of the desk and peering into the bag. "Fuck off, Williams." Coach Jackson growled at him, snatching the bag away from him. "Aw come on, Coach, be a sport. I told you I loved you last night. What's mine is yours." "I said fuck off, Williams." "Come on, Coach, this was my lunch break, too. You're not gonna make me go hungry just because I wanted to spend some quality time with you, would you?" He batted his eyes with a grin. The giant man sighed and stared his athlete down as he turned over the paper bag, his colossal sandwich smacking down on the wood with a thump. "You're lucky I'm your football coach, kid. Nothing pisses me off more than when one of my athletes skips a meal." "See look, there's plenty for us to split." Brad said, unwrapping it and taking half. "I'm over three hundred pounds of fucking muscle, kid, you think I live off carrots and blueberries or some shit?" At that moment there was a knock on the door. "Come in." Coach Jackson called out as he licked some mustard off of his thumb. The door opened and Jason Foster stepped in, surprised to see Brad sitting on the edge of the desk. "Oh. . . Sorry Coach, I could come back later. . ." Jason stumbled, caught off guard. "You're fine, Foster, I was just talking to Williams about this program over at USC. Assuming by some miracle he learns how to catch a fucking ball instead of that shit he pulled last practice." Brad just crunched on a pickle spear and rolled his eyes. "I just wanted to ask if I could get out of practice early this afternoon. I have an interview up at a school in San Diego and my parents want us on the road by 4:45." He shifted timidly in his shoes, his natural fear of such a frightening authority figure not easily hidden. "That's fine, Foster. Hey, good luck." Coach Jackson replied, biting into his sandwich. "Alright, thanks Coach!" Jason said, breathing a little easier now. "I still want you at practice til 4:00, understand?" "Yes sir. Thank you sir." Jason replied, turning around and stepping out of the office. "Jeeze, it's like he was scared shitless of you, Coach." Brad laughed, opening up the bag of potato chips and helping himself. "Of course he is. All my athletes are. It's how a proper athlete/coach relationship should be." "Except me." Brad smirked. "Goes without saying." Coach Jackson rolled his eyes. "Was I ever timid like that?" Coach Jackson thought about it for a moment. "There was always an arrogant prickishness with you that I knew would be trouble down the road, but for the most part you stuck to your place. You've always been a real pain in my ass, though." "Man, I can't believe I ever was afraid of you like that." "Yeah well maybe a little bit of that would do you some fucking good." Coach Jackson laughed. "Nah, I think we're way past that. I figured out a way to knock you down a peg or two." "Yeah, I guess you're right." He couldn't help but laugh. "So you must be pretty fucking pleased with yourself. Swinging by my office on your lunch break and managing to make off with a kickass blowjob and half my fucking turkey sandwich, you prick." "I gotta say, Coach." Brad smirked, crossing his legs and relaxing. "It certainly beats a cold hotdog over in the cafeteria listening to Ollie studying for his French exam." "Fuck, it pisses me off how easy it is for you to get me to put out for you." Coach Jackson cursed as he crumpled up the paper bag. "And that you know it, too." He tossed it into the trashcan right beside his prized trophy case. His eyes widened. "Williams, what the fuck is this!" He yelled, rushing up to get a closer look. There, in the reflection, right on his neck above his collar was a giant, fresh hicky. "Christ, kid. You're gonna make me lose my fucking job if you don't smarten up!" "Sorry, Coach, honest." Brad apologized, somewhat truthfully. "Fuck, how am I gonna to get through practice looking like this?" "Just do what the rest of the guys on the team do when they've got a hicky on their neck." "Yeah, and what is that?" "Show it off like crazy." Brad smiled, walking up to him and sucking over the spot again. "Out, Williams!" Coach Jackson pushed him off, pointing to the door. "Alright, alright I can tell when I'm not wanted around anymore." Brad laughed as he headed out the door before stopping for a second, turning back to him. "And by the way, Coach, don't think just because you sucked me off twice today that I'm not gonna want some of that coachpussy after practice this afternoon." "Yeah well quit pissing me off and I just might let you have it, Williams." Coach Jackson smirked at him from his desk. "Sounds like a date." And with that he was out the door. "This fucking kid. . ." Coach Jackson muttered to himself with a slight grin as he stared down at his paperwork again.