Date: Thu, 2 Jun 2016 07:58:39 +0000 (UTC)
jhtravus@yahoo.com
Subject: Horny Exchange Student Chapter 32

	I'm extremely excited to announce that I've started a tumblr page!
http://jhtravus-gay-fiction.tumblr.com/

You'll find exclusive info on my stories and sneak-peaks for upcoming
chapters, as well as a place where you can learn a little more about me and
ask me any questions you may have wanted to ask me since you've been
reading my stories. I'll also be writing some shorter exclusive stories and
sharing them there if you're looking to whet your appetite.



As long as you guys are interested in reading more, I'll keep writing. You
just have to let me know you're out there! You might not believe me, but
just hearing from one or two of you guys really makes my day and makes me
want to keep writing even more. Keeping a story like this going after 32
chapters is hard work, but as long as there are people out there who are
still getting something out of it, I want to keep going.



	As always, Nifty is always in need of your donations to keep great
sites like this going. You can donate here:
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html



				Chapter 32



	"Connors! What the fuck kind of game do you think you're playing?"
Coach Jackson roared as one of the guys on the team missed an easy pass
during practice. "You think this is fucking Candy Land or some shit? When
you see the ball coming your way you fucking hustle, understand?"

	"Sorry sir." Connors replied faintly, getting back in place and
wiping his brow.

	"I don't know why Coach is in a tiff today." Alex Moss, one of the
line-backers, said to me, laughing. "Did you see that hicky he's got on his
neck?"

	"Yeah. . ." I replied, looking over at Brad, who all of the sudden
seemed to have clammed up. "Guess someone got lucky, huh?"

	"I heard Coach Jackson's fucking that chick from that hospital
show. You know, the hot one with the huge tits." Our teammate added,
absentmindedly adjusting his crotch.

	"You don't say. . ." I said to him, trying my best to acknowledge
what he said without egging him on to continue.

	"I don't think that chick is Coach Jackson's type." Brad stepped
in, territorially.

	"What, you don't think he could pull a chick like that?" Alex
laughed. "Dante swears he saw her at one of the games a few weeks
ago. Cheering us on. Fuck, can you believe that? That chick coming to our
game?"

	"Keep dreaming, man." Brad laughed.

	Jason Foster looked over at us, like he was trying to hear what we
were talking about.

	"I don't know man, did you see the size of Coach Jackson's cock
that time he had to shower off with us that one time? I mean, I'm not a
chick but chicks like big dicks like that." Alex said. "You know. . . not
that I was looking or anything."

	Before Brad could think of some smartass response Coach Jackson
thankfully blew his whistle, bringing us back to the drill.

	"Alright Foster, you're free to go. I want you here at 7:30 am
tomorrow morning running laps for the time you're missing this afternoon,
understand?" Coach Jackson yelled from the other end of the field.

	"Yes sir." Jason nodded as he took off his helmet, wiping his brow,
as he headed to the locker room from the field.

	The heat was getting to me and after seeing how refreshing it
looked as Jason ran his fingers through his newly-freed, cropped hair, I
followed suit. I couldn't help but watch him as he slowly made his way from
the field. Tall, athletic; classically handsome. A true, good 'ole American
pretty boy if there ever was one. The type of guy who-

	WHAM!

	I was flat on my back, the wind knocked out of me. I hit the ground
before the football did, bouncing right next to my shoulder and then
rolling away in the grass.

	"Ollie!" Brad yelled, running over to me. "Ollie, you okay
brother?"

	"Y-yeah. . ." I mumbled, reaching up to my face. There was blood
running down from right above my left eye brow, but I was more embarrassed
than physically pained.

	I could hear Coach Jackson muttering as he pushed through the group
of guys huddled around me. "Move the fuck over, Connors, Jesus, NOW you
decide to be where the action is. Africa, you okay?"

	Everyone's eyes being completely fixed on me was making me nervous,
wishing they would just turn away for a second while I got my bearings.

	"Olujimi, can you hear me?" Coach Jackson asked, kneeling over me
to check out the cut.

	"I'm fine, Coach, really." I answered him, sitting up.

	"Here, Ollie." Brad said, right at my side, pulling his shirt over
his head and pressing it to my forehead gently. "It's gonna be okay,
brother." He rubbed my back, helping me feel at ease.

	"I'm really okay guys, honestly." I laughed, hating all the fuss
everyone was making. "Seriously, I'll be fine. Just let me go wash up."

	"Come on, Ollie, I'll go with you." Brad said, pulling me up gently
and wrapping my arm around his shoulder.

	"Don't be silly, I'm fine. Really." I assured him, patting his
shoulder confidently. "It's just a flesh wound." I added, knowing a
reference to his favorite movie would make him feel better.

	Brad laughed, easing up a little. "Hit smack dab in the freakin'
face harder than a Mack truck and he's still cracking jokes."

	"Hey, at least you know I pay attention when you make me watch all
these movies with you."

	"Alright Africa, get off my field and go clean yourself up." Coach
Jackson said, patting me on the back. "You're tough, kid." He turned to
Brad. "Williams, I know the two of you are practically joined at the
fucking hip, but are you gonna be able to manage without your Tweedle-Dum
here for 10 fucking minutes or am I gonna have to go get you a tampon and
some fucking tissues so you can pull yourself the fuck together until he
gets back?"

	Brad smirked at him and turned back to me. "You sure you're okay,
brother?"

	"I'm fine, Brad. Get back to practice."

	"You heard the man, folks. Get back in your positions." Coach
Jackson clapped, blowing on his whistle. "Africa, you just holler if you
need someone, understand?"

	"Yes sir." I waved at them, holding Brad's shirt to my head as I
walked back to the locker room.

	"Dude, what about your shirt, man?" One of the guys asked him as
they got into positions..

	"I'm fine like this." I heard Brad say, relishing the feeling of
the cool air on his torso.

	"You sure, Brad, there's-" One of the guys started before Coach
Jackson butted in.

	"He said he's fine without a shirt, Connors, what are you the
fucking fashion police or some shit?"

	I couldn't help but laugh. There was pretty much a 99.9% chance
Brad Williams was getting laid big time after practice this
afternoon. Hell, given how hot his abs looked slicked up with sweat under
this heat, maybe even during practice if Coach Jackson couldn't find a way
to keep his eyes off him.

	When I stepped through the locker room I tossed Brad's shirt by my
locker and got out of my clothes, heading over to the showers. I heard the
water on and for a moment I wondered who could have been using the showers
until I remembered Jason Foster had needed to cut practice early, leaving
just a minute before I did. Hell, him distracting me as he walked away was
the whole reason I got hit in the face in the first place.

	I rounded the corner and almost had to stop in my tracks. Jason
Foster was standing under the showerhead, running his arms down his lithe,
athletic muscles. Fuck, they don't make porn this hot.

	I cleared my throat so that he would know I was there but the water
was too loud for him to hear me. I kind of felt guilty for looking at him
like this. I mean sure, I'd seen him naked numerous times before, but ever
since he stopped whatever it had been between Brad and us, I just felt like
I wasn't supposed to look at him like that anymore.

	He ran his fingers through his hair, leaning his head back to let
the water envelop him. God he was beautiful. He was the only guy taller
than me on the team, and seeing him run his strong, long arms over his body
was simply mesmerizing. My cock immediately started to react, thinking
about how many times I'd held those long legs of his in my hands as I sank
my big, black cock into him over and over again. Leaning down to kiss that
angelic face as he let me in deeper inside of him. My cock jumped and I
realized I needed to step in before I got caught checking him out so
blatantly.

	I stepped under the other showerhead and turned on the water. Jason
turned his head and looked over at me, his eyes going from the cut on my
brow and then subtly going down to my cock.

	I opened my mouth to explain myself. That I was only in here to
clean myself up. That I knew he and I being alone together just wasn't
something we could do anymore. That I understood his boundaries. That I
respected them. But for some reason I just didn't say anything. There was
just too much history with us.

	For a while he looked me up and down. Empathy registered on his
face as he looked over my cut. He looked like he too was trying to find the
right words to say. But I guess he, like me, was just caught off guard by
the situation. The two of us here. Very alone.

	Very naked.

	He brought his hand to the dial above him and turned it off, the
new-found quietness of just my lone showerhead running almost deafeningly
still.

	Without saying anything he slowly stepped under the water above me,
his body so close to mine I could almost feel his energy radiating through
me. He was so tall, the water was barely getting to me.

	He leaned his head down and brought his lips to mine. I could feel
him giving into temptation. He started off kissing me slowly and then as
lust took over he began to thrust his tongue into my mouth hungrily.

	He wrapped his long arms around my back and pulled me into him, our
bodies rubbing against each other as the water poured over us.

	"God, I'd forgotten how much better it is kissing dudes." He said,
pulling away for a second before starting right back up again with his
assault with his tongue.

	I thought about stopping him. That even though I wanted this so
badly with him, that he wasn't thinking straight. But I couldn't. He wanted
this. I wanted this.

	Before I even realized it he was smoothly gripping my rock-hard
prick with his strong hands, feeling the length of it as the water ran over
our bodies. It didn't take long until I was completely lathered in soap
suds, his hands running easily over my flared prick head.

	Without another word, he kept his eyes on mine as he slowly turned
around, guiding the head of my big, black cock to his tight, white jock
hole.

	Fuck, he was tight. Hell, this good 'ole American pretty boy power
bottom had gone so long without getting fucked it's like he was a total
virgin again.

	He winced at the intrusion and I waited for him to get used to my
size. He leaned his head back and kissed me, running his hands along my
back, feeling my overworked muscles. Everything that made me a man, he paid
close, personal attention to.

	I slowly started to sink more of my cock into him and he groaned in
response.

	I let his moans of pleasure dictate the speed in which I pounded
him. If anyone was even near the locker room they would have heard this
pretty boy jock getting royally fucked but I didn't care.

	I had missed this. I wasn't in love with Jason Foster. But when
you've had sex with someone as many times as we had in such a short span of
time, you can't help but develop at least some kind of feelings for
them. Maybe not love, but a kind of warmth and connection. It was just
biological.

	He didn't have to tell me how he wanted me to fuck him because I
already knew how he wanted it. I knew all of his spots. I knew what he
liked.

	He was bent over under the showerhead, jacking himself off in
perfect synchronization with my thrusts into him, groaning deeply. I leaned
down and brought his face to mine and kissed him as I walked us over to the
wall and pushed him against it, fucking him with deep, long strokes.

	He moaned into me as we made out, and I could tell I was making him
cum. He lapped at my lips with his tongue as he sprayed the tile floor
beneath us. And he was making it count.

	Jason Foster might have been getting laid on the regular for the
past few months but it had been a long, long time since he'd gotten the cum
fucked out of him. He needed this.

	The tight hole around my big, black cock was pulsing uncontrollably
as I sent him into his deep climax. Before I knew it I was cumming with
him. For the first time in a long, long time, this pretty boy jock power
bottom was getting his ass flooded with cum.

	He pulled at my lip with his teeth, in complete ecstasy.

	We continued to make out with each other as the water ran over our
feet and down the drain, carrying a blend of our cum with it.

	I turned the water off and he broke away from me and looked into my
eyes, trying to find the right words to say.

	"Look Ollie, I-"

	"It's okay, man. You don't have to say anything." I told him,
knowing he must be going through a whirlwind of emotions right now.

	He nodded as he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel.

	As we both got dressed we didn't say anything. When he finished
tying his shoes he finally looked up at me. "I hope you'll be okay, man."
He mumbled. "With your eye, I mean."

	"I'll be fine, Jason." I smiled at him, rubbing the cut above my
eye to make sure it had stopped bleeding.

	He made his way to the double-doors leading outside and turned to
look at me as if he was about to say something else, but whatever it had
been, he decided not to.

	I wasn't sure if I felt guilty about what had just happened. It's
not like I had been the aggressor in the situation. And I had made him cum
like crazy. I knew that whatever Jason was going through was his own
journey. And I was someone safe that he knew he could trust to help him
explore whatever feelings he had toward guys. I figured that was exactly
the person he needed. And hey, if fucking Jason Foster was my contribution
to his overall well-being, that was certainly a responsibility I was
willing to put on my shoulders.

					-

	I managed to make it through the rest of practice without any other
embarrassing mishaps. After the last of the guys filtered out of the locker
room to head on home, Brad tossed me the keys to the car as he put on his
shirt.

	"Here, you can take the car home. I'll just have Coach Jackson drop
me off at home after I drop a load in him in his office."

	Conversations like this weren't even the least bit out of the
ordinary anymore. "Nah, I've got some work I need to do in the library
first. I'll meet you back here in an hour?"

	"Alright, brother." Brad said, taking the keys back. The door to
Coach Jackson's office swung open, hitting the wall with a thud, making the
two of us jump.

	Coach Jackson's low, gravely voice called out from the
doorframe. "What's the hold-up, Williams, are we gonna fuck or what?" He
was standing in nothing but his signature slutty wind-shorts, stretching at
the seams to accommodate a big, fat erection jutting up against his hip.

	"Quit your bitching, Coach., I'll be there in a second." Brad waved
him off, turning back to me. "Alright, I'll see you later back here. What
are you going to the library for anyway?"

	Coach Jackson cleared his throat obnoxiously. "By all means,
Williams, go ahead and chit-chat with your gal pal over there and keep me
waiting." He tapped his foot dramatically. "You better hope one of these
days they don't come out with a dildo that gets me off as good as you do,
Williams, or you'll find yourself out of this steady pussy and you'll have
to find something else to put that jock dick of yours into."

	"You really think you'll find anything or anyone that gets you off
like I do, Coach?"

	"Cocky little fucker. . ." Coach Jackson grunted, reaching up and
twisting his nipple as he slipped his hand into his shorts.

	Brad just rolled his eyes. "Jesus, Ollie, does my dad get this
annoying when he needs dick?"

	"Do you really want me to answer that question?" I laughed.

	"Good call." Brad chuckled.

	Coach Jackson sighed impatiently and marched his way toward us,
towering over the pair of us as he stopped right at our feet. "Look,
Africa, I'm glad you're feeling better and all after that thing at practice
today, but frankly, if you stand here and cock-block me for one more
fucking minute then I'm gonna have you and Williams running laps tomorrow
morning with Foster and I'll just go home and jack off instead."

	And with that, he grabbed Brad Williams by the collar and dragged
him into his office like a horny caveman, slamming the door behind them and
pushing his athlete up against the door, thrusting his tongue into his
mouth and guiding his hands to his willing ass.

	I shook my head, laughing as I passed his office to head over to
the library.

	"You're gonna really get it now, Coach." I heard Brad warn him as
they made out against the door.

	"Yeah, Williams? Try and fucking break me. I dare you."


	As much as I wanted to stay and listen to Brad and Coach Jackson's
love-hate-fuck or whatever could come close to what those two called it
these days, I really did have to get to the library.

	As I walked across campus, I couldn't stop thinking about what I
had just done with Jason Foster. Even when Coach mentioned his name earlier
my dick jumped when he said it. I decided to let him work out whatever he
needed to work out in his head, and be that safe person he can go if he
needed someone. Whether that meant a willing ear when he needed to talk or
just a hard cock when he needed to get fucked, I was going to be there for
him.

	After finishing off my paper in the library a little early, I made
sure to walk back over to the gymnasium at about half my normal speed, just
to make sure I gave Brad and Coach Jackson enough time to finish up.

	By the time I made it back to the locker room, I could hear their
grunting and groaning all the way from the entrance.

	"Damnit Williams, when I say dick me harder that means I expect you
to fucking dick me harder, understand?" The sounds of skin slapping against
skin grew louder. "AAGH! FUCK YEAH, WILLIAMS! Good boy! Give me that jock
cock!"

	"Shut. . ." I heard my host-brother panting. "The
fuck. . . Up. . . "

	"Make me, Williams." Coach Jackson taunted him. I stepped up to the
door and could see Coach Jackson's giant legs in the air through the window
as Brad hammered into him on top of the desk.

	"That's it, Williams. Fuck, kid, you're right on my spot. UGHH!"

	At that moment Brad wiped his brow and noticed me through the
window.

	"Come on in, Ollie." He laughed, waving me over.

	"We'll be done in a second, Africa. Williams here owes me a nut."
Coach Jackson grunted at me, furiously jacking himself off as his athlete
railed into him. It was as if I'd walked in on them looking over college
brochures. Neither of them even batted an eye at the prospect of having an
audience.

	"We shoulda been through about 20 minutes ago but Williams here
just had to climb on again for another ride." Coach Jackson continued,
nodding as Brad slammed into him.

	"Yeah, well I got my second nut already, so what are we still doing
here, Coach?" Brad panted.

	"You know the rules, Williams." Coach Jackson muttered, not
breaking eye contact with his athlete. "You want seconds, then you can have
it as long as you make sure and get me off, too. Tit for tat. I'm not
running a fucking charity here."

	Brad grew visibly impatient. "Okay that's it, you either cum within
the next sixty seconds or you're on your own, Coach." Brad warned him,
getting up on the desk and pushing Coach Jackson's strong legs over his
head so he was fucking him as deep as possible.

	"Now that's what I'm talking about, Williams! Now get me off."

	Each time Brad slammed his hips down into our superior the big oak
desk moved a few inches.


	"Fifty. . . seconds. . . " Brad panted as he put all of his
strength into it.

	"Not gonna need it." Coach Jackson grunted, leaning his head back
as he furiously jacked himself off while his athlete hammered into him. "Aw
fuck Williams, right there. . . Right fuckin' there. . . UUGHH!" Coach
Jackson yelled as he started to shoot all over his chest.

Brad had officially fucked the desk up against the wall. Each crashing move
he made into Coach Jackson rattled all the pictures and awards hanging on
the wall, causing one of them to rock off of its hinges and fall to the
floor, with a loud crash. Coach Jackson just ignored it as he rode out his
orgasm with a big, satisfied grin on his face.

Brad leaned down and thrust his tongue in Coach Jackson's mouth, squeezing
the man's nipples, exhaustedly.

"Good boy." Coach Jackson muttered, pulling at his athlete's lip.

As he started to pull out Coach Jackson stopped him. "Where do you think
you're going, kid. I believe I had about 40 seconds left on the machine."
He grinned, reaching over and giving his athlete a loud spank.

"Machine's out of service, Coach." Brad replied, pulling out and leaning
back, exhausted.

"We need to work on your stamina then, Williams. Maybe I really should make
you run laps with Foster tomorrow morning." Coach Jackson smirked at him.

"I've given him four loads since this morning and he's still not shutting
up." Brad laughed, turning to me.

"I'm just making sure you'll always be capable of handling the job,
Williams." Coach Jackson muttered, reaching his hand down to his hole and
pushing a finger in, playing with the jock cum beginning to leak out of
it. "This cunt's got a mind of it's own thanks to you. When I wanna get
fucked I expect to get fucked, understand?"

"You want some more, Coach?" Brad challenged him, tapping his cock against
Coach Jackson's hole again. "You say the word and I'll make sure you get
fucked."

Coach Jackson opened his mouth to reply, most likely with some surly
remark, but I couldn't sit through this anymore.

"Oh for Christ's sake, I'm putting my foot down." I interjected, shaking my
head, laughing. "Brad, we're going home." I threw him his clothes.

"Sorry Ollie." Brad laughed, catching his pants as I threw them to him. "I
forgot my manners." He gestured to Coach Jackson. "If you're looking for
some pussy before we head home, he's all yours."

"Sure, hop on, Africa. I'm sure I could shoot again with that big, black
cock rubbing against my spot, no problem." Coach offered, hiking his legs
up for me.

"Thanks, but believe it or not, sometimes the world doesn't just revolve
around getting laid." I laughed, politely declining. "Come on, Brad. We're
going home."

"Suit yourself." Coach Jackson muttered, licking the jock cum off his
fingers. "But the offer still stands. Mike can't keep all that black cock
to himself. Consider this a standing invitation for some ass, no questions
asked, you understand?"

"I'll keep that in mind, Coach." I laughed.

"Any other standing invitations I should know about, Coach?" Brad asked,
crossing his arms.

"You stay out of my shit and I'll stay out of yours, Williams.." Coach
Jackson smirked. "You're not the only guy in this room who has options."

He lifted his huge frame off of the desk and stepped onto the floor, making
sure not to step on the glass fragments scattered all over the floor.


"You fucker, you know what I had to do to win that award, Williams?" Coach
Jackson muttered, kicking the glass with his feet.

	"Yeah, you must have gotten on your knees and blown practically
everyone in the NFL for a plaque that fancy."

	Coach Jackson gave him an unimpressed glare.

	"Sorry, Coach." Brad said to him, patting his giant pec with his
hand.

	"It's fine, Williams, but I'm dragging your ass out of bed bright
and early Saturday morning and you and I are gonna fasten this thing down
so it doesn't happen again." He patted the big oak desk with his paw. "You
can't expect me to replace my whole fucking office every time you wander in
here expecting to get your fucking balls drained, kid."

	"Aw, come on, Coach, really?" Brad sulked. "The guys on the team
are all going out to the lake this weekend."

	"It's either you spend your Saturday helping me nail this thing
down or no more pussy after practice from here on out, Williams." He
crossed his arms and stared his athlete down.  "Your pick."

	"Alright fine, but I expect you to climb up there and spread those
legs of yours the second we finish. Make it worth my time."


	"You manage to get through a couple hours without pissing me off
and actually follow orders, then you can consider my afternoon cleared and
this hole with your name on it." Coach Jackson replied. "The day Brad
Williams listens to anything the fuck I say. . ."

	"Hey, when there's a chance at pussy at the end of it, I'll follow
orders all you want, Coach."

	"You see the shit I let this kid get away with, Africa?" Coach
Jackson laughed, turning to me.

	"I don't even pretend to know what's going on with you two, but
whatever works. . ." I replied, throwing my hands up.

	"Yeah, well at least he's got a decent sized dick and he's pretty
to look at." Coach Jackson smirked, looking his athlete over.

					-

	That night I was spooning up against Mr. Williams playing with his
chest hair as we lay in bed together after a particularly good fuck.

	He hummed contentedly as I kissed his shoulder. "You want to hear
about some fun I had during practice today, Mr. Williams?"

	He sat up with an excited look on his face. He could always tell
when I had some hot, illicit story that I couldn't wait to fill him in
on. "Tell me, stud!"

	"Well, I'm not going to mention any names." I said, deciding to
keep Jason's identity safe until he was ready.

	"I understand." Mr. Williams nodded.

	"Well, it was with one of the guys on the team. . . " I paused,
knowing Mr. Williams was loving this.

	"Damn, Ollie, keep going." He grinned, reaching over to play with
my cock as he listened intently.

	"It's kind of. . . complicated, I guess." I struggled, trying to
find the right way to describe Brad's and my relationship with Jason
Foster.

	"How complicated?" He asked me. "Wait, don't tell me he's the one
who gave you this?" He brought his hand to the cut above my eye and gently
rubbed around it.

	"No, of course not. I really did just get hit in the face with a
football." I insisted. "Brad can vouch for me."

	"It's okay, Ollie. I trust you. Go on."

	"We kind of fucked in the team shower while the rest of the guys
were in practice." I blushed, scratching the back of my head.

	"God, that's so fucking hot." He sighed, really starting to jerk me
off now as he listened.

	"I couldn't wait to tell you." I grinned, kissing him.

	"And boy do you know what gets me going. So what's so complicated
about this guy?"

	"How do I put this?" I said aloud as I thought about it.

	"You've had sex with him before?" He asked inquisitively.

	"How'd you know?" I replied, taken aback.

	"I just know how to read you." He laughed, releasing my cock and
sitting back so we could talk.

	"Well then I'll have to be extra careful from now on, then. I can't
have you sniffing this guy out." I smiled.

	"Mmhmm." Mr. Williams grinned, accepting the challenge. "Does Brad
know about you two?"

	I could feel my face flush deep red.

	"Oh come on, Ollie, you're making this too easy!" He laughed,
grabbing my arm and holding my hand.

	"Why can't I lie to you!" I replied, frustrated.

	"I think it's sweet." He said, bringing my hand up to his lips and
kissing it. "But I'll stay out of it if it really means that much to you."

	"Mmhmm." I replied, skeptically.

	He sat there for a while, deep in thought and then looked back over
to me. "Have Brad and this guy ever.  .  .?"

	"Does the phrase "staying out of it" have a different meaning here
in America?" I laughed.

	"Well I'm his dad! I feel like I should be aware of these things to
make sure he's not getting himself into too much trouble."

	"Honestly Mr. Williams, your son is way too busy getting laid to be
getting himself in any real trouble."

	He laughed as he considered what I had said. "Well, considering the
worst case scenarios, I guess I can live with that. He's a smart guy. He
can look out for himself." He started thinking to himself before he looked
over me with that same look in his eye. "So have they?"

	"Have who what?"

	"Brad and this guy?"

	"I don't know." I lied, looking away.

	"Okay, so that's a resounding yes." He laughed.

	"Goodnight Mr. Williams." I turned away, throwing the pillow over
my head, hating how easy it was for him to read me.

	"Alright alright! I'm sorry Ollie. Truce?"

	I turned back over, embarrassed.

	"Oh my god." He whispered, his eyes widening, as if he had just
come to some shocking, sudden realization.

	"What?"

	"Is Brad fucking his football coach?" He deadpanned.

	"GOODNIGHT MR. WILLIAMS." I laughed, throwing my pillow over his
head and turning away again.

	"Okay, now I'll really lay o-" He paused.

	I turned over again, trying to read him.

	"It's Jason Foster, isn't it?"

	My heart jumped. "No it's not."

	He looked me in the eye and I tried my best to not blink. But it
was too much. I immediately looked away from him.

	"Oh my god, it is, isn't it!"

	"How did you know?" I sighed, really disappointed in myself.

	"Mostly just wishful thinking. But then I remembered he and Brad
had been good friends for a while before you moved here and I just kind of
pieced it together."

	"Well I hope you feel really good about yourself." I sulked. "This
guy's probably scared out of his mind about liking guys and you just had to
sniff him out of me."

	"Hey, I think I know what it's like realizing you like guys at an
inopportune time in your life." He said, reaching over to run his hand over
my shoulder. "Or at least one specific guy."

	I leaned over and kissed him.

	"So was it good?" He asked, grinning.

	"Yeah, it was good. Really good." I paused. "I feel kind of guilty
talking about him like this now that you know who he is."

	"I understand." He nodded. "He's lucky to have you, Ollie. Someone
he can trust."

	"I don't know, Mr. Williams, he and Brad had been having sex since
they first got on the team and he kept his secret for him all this time."

	"I guess you're right. Brad's a good guy."

	"Yeah, he is." I nodded.

	"I feel so bad for Jason, though." He sighed. "His dad Greg and I
go way back. We're on the Parent Teacher Association together and from what
Greg tells me, his wife is away a lot. Kind of like how Kate was before you
got here."

	"I didn't know." I frowned.

	"I just feel like Brad is in such a better place now that he has
you and me, and of course Dan. And that he can be who he is and not be
afraid anymore. I just wish Jason could have the same thing. He probably
feels so alone."

	"Yeah, I know what you mean." I nodded.

	I was always blown away with how Mr. Williams could empathize with
other people like that. In such a short amount of time he went through all
of that in that handsome head of his.

	"Just promise me you'll help him through this, Ollie." He said to
me, kissing my hand.

	"I promise."

	He guided my hand down his chest until it got to his hardening
cock. "You see what listening to you tell me about you getting laid does to
me, stud?" He grinned.

	"You're absolutely carnivorous." I laughed, kissing him.

	"Can you blame me?" He grinned, grabbing onto my cock and giving it
a good squeeze. "You know, I'm probably still lubed up from 20 minutes
ago."

	I made out with him as I rolled him onto his back and guided my
cock to his opening.

	I pushed in with no resistance and could feel the load I had
already inseminated him with earlier easing my entry.

	"I just can't help it, Ollie." Mr. Williams groaned into my mouth
as I fucked him. "Listening to you talk about your other conquests. It just
gets me so fucking hot for you."

	His hands were on my back, pulling me into him.

	"God I love you, Mr. Williams." I moaned, kissing him.

	I grabbed his prick in my hands and jacked him off with my thrusts,
our tongues gliding against each other as we experienced the greatest
pleasure we could experience with each other.

	I didn't even need to ask him when he was getting close. I knew his
body too well. I knew all of his signs.

	I wanted us to cum together. I slowed my pace on his cock as I
increased the rate of my thrusts into him. I could feel his cock throbbing
in my hand and knew he was right on the edge. Just when I knew he couldn't
take another second of teasing, I closed my grip tight and brought him over
the edge, shooting inside of him just as the first jet of sperm shot out of
his cock and onto the headboard behind him.

	His tongue lapped at mine as we climaxed together. There was no one
else on this earth that meant more to me than this man. I felt like after
each time we had sex, I loved him even more. And seeing the look of
complete adoration in his eyes as he looked up at me, I knew he felt the
exact same thing.

	Sperm continued to dribble out of his cock after I had finished
shooting inside of him. He always did seem to have a longer climax than I
did.

	He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him, kissing
me tenderly, my big black cock still firmly planted inside of him.

	We didn't feel the need to say anything more. After what felt like
just a short time but was most likely longer than we both realized, my
wilting cock exited his ass and his lips broke away from mine.

	He looked into my eyes and gave me the most genuine smile.

	And with that, he turned over again and lay his head on the pillow
as he nuzzled up against me again, closing his eyes as he fell asleep, his
body close to mine.

	They say that you can measure a good life with just a collection of
moments. And I knew that even though this wasn't the first time I had
fallen asleep next to this man and it certainly wouldn't be the last, this
moment would be something I would remember forever. If you really could
measure a good life with a collection of moments, then I felt like the
richest man in the world. Because, after all, why stick with a moment when
you've got a whole lifetime of nights like this ahead of you.



http://jhtravus-gay-fiction.tumblr.com/