Date: Sat, 1 Apr 2017 15:20:13 +0000 (UTC)
From: Jon Royale <jon_royale@yahoo.com>
Subject: Baldwin & Sons 8: Doctor's Orders

BALDWIN & SONS 8:  DOCTOR'S ORDERS
by Jon Royale
March 2017

The following is a work of erotic fiction meant to be viewed by a mature
audience.  Similarity between any person, living or deceased, is purely
coincidental.


Kowalski slammed a big, hairy-knuckled fist on the top of his desk.  "You
want to make me, your team and this school a laughing stock?  Is that what
you want, boy?"

Trey jumped, his face turned ashen.  He'd never seen Coach so angry before.
"N-no, Coach.  I wouldn't do that!"

"You're a little pissant, that's what you are!" Coach went on raging.  "A
whiney baby that didn't get his way so now he's gotta get even.  And here I
thought you were a promising athlete.  You know nothing---NOTHING---about
sportsmanship."

"Coach, I didn't do nuthin'.  I swear!"  Trey pleaded, his eyes wide with
fear.

"You swear, you swear," Kowalski muttered, throwing his hulking body into
the swivel chair behind his desk.  "You gonna try and tell me you weren't
pissed off because your brother aced you out of your position on the team?
Is that what you're trying to tell me, boy?"

"No, Coach," Trey quickly responded, his knees feeling wobbly and barely
able to stand.  "I was pissed at first, for sure.  And I thought about
doing Ryan wrong----"

"Your own brother!"  Kowalski's hand slammed down once again, causing Trey
to jump.  "What kind of man does that to his own brother?"

"But I didn't!" Trey insisted.  "I got a tutor to help with my studies.  My
grades have gone up.  And I've been working out, getting back into shape,
laying off the beers and babes.  I want to prove to you, to the team, that
I can be as good as I used to be.  I swear, Coach."

"You swear," Kowalski scoffed.  "You'd swear on a stack of Bibles and then
go stab your brother in the heart!"

"Please, Coach!  You gotta believe me!" Trey pleaded with real worry in his
eyes.

"At the Brunswick game, after I replaced you with Ryan, you requested
bathroom privileges from Coach Washington, didn't you?" Kowalski asked in
an accusatory tone.

Trey thought about it.  "Yeah," he responded.  "So?"

"You was pissed that I yanked you out, wasn't you?"

"Well, yeah."  Trey had a fairly good idea where Coach was going with his
line of questioning.

"So you had opportunity, boy!" Coach shouted, tossing the manilla envelope
and its horde of scandalous pictures at the student.  The photos hung
suspended in the air between them for a moment before billowing down around
Trey's sneakered feet.  "You thought you'd make Ryan look bad so you
pretended you had to take a leak, came back here and then slipped these
trash photos under my door!  Only thing is it backfired on you, boy.  Now
you're the one looks bad to me."

"But, Coach," Trey pleaded.  "I didn't!"

"You tryin' to tell me you never saw these pictures before?  These pictures
of Ryan getting dicked by some man?"  Coach thought about the shocked look
on Trey's face when he'd first shown him the scandalous photos.  But that
was more than likely the boy's reaction at being found out.

"No. I mean yes.  I mean---"

"What do you mean, boy?" Coach pressed.  "Stop all the stammering and tell
me before I suspend your ass from the team altogether."

"I saw some pictures.  Not these.  Others," Trey admitted.

"And just where did you see these pictures?" Coach inquired.

Trey paused.  "I-I can't tell you that, Coach."

Coach pounded the desk again.  "You'd better fucking tell me, hot shot, if
you ever plan to play on my team again."

The name shot from Trey's quivering lips.  "Lukie."

"Lukie?  Who the fuck is Lukie?"

"My younger brother," Trey admitted.  "He's like some kind of tech kid and
he somehow took the pictures from his laptop through a hidden camera.  I
don't know how he did it.  I'm not savvy about that stuff."

"But you were savvy enough to get your baby brother to give up those
pictures so you could expose Ryan, weren't you?"  Coach looked angry as all
hell.

"No!" Trey insisted.  "I was gonna.  I was real mad the day of the
Brunswick game when you benched me.  And it's true: I didn't come in here
to piss.  I came in to embarrass Ryan.  But I didn't! I still have those
pictures in my gym locker!"

Coach's eyes narrowed.  "You mean you've got them here?"

"Yes sir, Coach.  Every one of them."

Trey missed the sudden sparkle in Coach's eyes.  "When we're done here,
ace, you're gonna go to that locker and bring me all those pictures.  Are
we clear on that?"

Trey nodded, took a deep breath and then let it out all at once.  "I just
couldn't do it.  Mad as I am at him---jealous, I guess---in the end I just
couldn't do it.  And, besides, the locker room wasn't vacant."

Coach frowned.  "What do you mean the locker room wasn't vacant?  There was
somebody else in here?"

Trey's brow furrowed as he recalled that day.  "When I came in from the
field side I saw someone leaving through the main door, the one that goes
into the hall," he said slowly.

Coach sat at attention.  "Did you recognize this someone?"

"I couldn't see his face.  I mean, his back was to me and it was only for a
second or two.  But," he went on slowly, falteringly, "I recognized the
jacket he was wearing-----"



Ryan sat nervously on the edge of the examination table in the doctor's
office wearing the standard issue dressing robe.  Having followed the
printed instructions Coach had provided him the day before his ass hole
felt a bit sore from all the evacuating he'd done last night.  But Coach
said it was important so Doc Schwartz could do a thorough exam to get to
the root of his "problem."  Fear mixed with anxiousness at discovering
exactly what the gnawing deep in his asshole signaled.  Coach attempted to
alleviate his worries, assuring him it was more than likely nothing
serious, and roughly fucked him at least once a day to hold the itch at
bay.

Schwartz wasn't the Baldwin's family physician.  He was a friend of
Kowalski's who had seemingly agreed to take on Ryan's particular case.
Ryan supposed he should have confided in his father, who knew most every
secret thing about him, except for the embarrassing reason he was such a
cock hungry butch bottom.  Dad had provided relief for Ryan on more than
one occasion.  Lately, however, Pops had seemed somewhat reluctant, forcing
Ryan to rely upon the ever-ready handyman, Lombardo.  That's why it came as
a welcome surprise to him a few days before the big Brunswick game that his
hung father had taken him out in the pool house in the back yard.  Deep
down Ryan knew he probably shouldn't be fucking around with his own father.
Probably Miles knew it too, which is why he'd suddenly become unavailable
of late.  But his Dad had a nice big cock that pleasurably reached Ryan's
secret spot and calmed the fire inside him.

He had taken the cross-town bus after school and walked the two blocks off
Main Street, curious at the out-of-the-way location of the doctor's office.
It was on the corner of an old red-bricked office building which sported
several vacancies.  But the shingle out front boasted "Dr. Arnold
J. Schwartz, M.D."  Once inside Ryan entered a sparsely furnished waiting
area and encountered an elderly female receptionist, who took his
information and promptly escorted him back to an examination room at the
end of a dimly lit hallway.

The surroundings did little to assuage Ryan's anxiety.  He was beginning to
suspect Coach had been wrong about all this and bolt from the building when
the door burst open and the strangest man he'd ever encountered bounded in.

"Well, howdy there, young pup!" the man greeted with a wide, toothy smile.
"How's it hangin' today?  To the left or the right?"  And then he slapped
himself on the thigh, amused at his own joke.

Ryan swallowed hard.  Finally finding his voice he managed, "Are you the
doctor?"

"Now you can call me Arnie, or you can call me A, or you can call me
Schwartzie, or you call me Arnold J, but you don't hafta call me Doctor!"
And once again he broke into uproarious, side-splitting laughter.

Ryan's baby blues widened and a chill crept up from the base of his spine.
The man appeared to be more lunatic than doctor.  He had an entirely
disheveled, unprofessional look about him from his clothes to his personal
appearance.  Under a wrinkled lab coat he wore a faded t-shirt tucked into
often-washed jeans, the knee of one leg worn and exposing skin.  His face
was dominated by a large, aquiline nose under which a bushy, untrimmed
mustache sprouted, comically curled upward in a waxed handlebar over thick
lips.  Beetle brows seemed to bisect across his forehead, the too-long
hairs poking out and upward from different angles.  His eyes were dark and
beady under a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles which sat low on the bridge of
his big nose.  His hair was wild and unkempt, a veritable bush of dark,
Medusa-like locks and in bad need of a cut and style.  Ryan doubted a comb
had been through it in a long while.

The strange man plopped himself down on a swivel stool in front of Ryan,
clipboard in his lap and thrust out a big hand.  Ryan reluctantly took the
hand in his own, his eyes noting the dark curly hairs on the man's wrist
and forearm and sprouting from his knuckles.  His grasp was surprisingly
firm.

"So you're Kowalski's latest pet, eh?" he went on, gesturing his eye brows
up and down suggestively.

"He-he's my Coach," Ryan stammered.  "I-I'm on his team."

"I'll just bet you are," Schwartz allowed, almost to himself.  "Now there,
uh----Ryan, is it?  Yes, yes.  It's all right here.  Ryan Baldwin, isn't
that right?"

"Yeah------"

"So tell me about the bug up your ass, Ryan."

Ryan's eyes shot wide again.  Feeling entirely ill at ease, he began,
"Listen, doctor----"

"You can call me doc or you can call me---" the man began his recitation
again.

Ryan spread out his hands in frustration.  "Look, I get all that.  But I
don't think this is gonna work out.  I'm outa here."  He moved to scramble
off the table but Schwartz was quick to his feet, urging Ryan back down
with surprisingly strong hands.

"Now, now, young laddie.  If Coach Kowalski thinks there's a problem, then
a problem there is.  And old doc Schwartz, he's the one can fix it.  Now
then, give me the skinny.  What's going on up there?"

Schwartz wasn't really old at all.  In fact, on closer inspection Ryan
surmised he was not much older than his own father.  Cleaned up, he might
actually be easy on the eyes.  Still wary, Ryan tested the man, "Didn't
Coach explain everything to you?"

"Yes, yes, indeed he did!"  Schwartz bobbed his head dramatically and then
pushed his sliding specs back up his schnoz.  "But you're the patient, yes
you are.  You and only you can tell me precisely about your discomfort."

"Well," Ryan ventured, "it all started about the time I, you know, started,
um, ejaculating."

Schwartz shook his head, the wild mane of hair flying from side to side.
"No need to wince words, boy.  Just you and me here.  When you sprouted
hairs, when you started cumming, nuh?"

"Yeah.  Uh, listen doc---"

"No, no.  Go on.  We're getting somewhere now."  The man was busily
scribbling on his pad.  "Tell me more, tell me more."

"Well, you see," Ryan went on nervously, "there's this thing, I call it an
itch, up in my, uh, rectum. It all started at about the same time."

Schwartz slapped himself on the forehead.  "That's your prostate, lad!
Don't you boys take health class?  I need to speak with Kowalski about
this, indeed I do!"

"No, I know all about my prostate.  I mean, I didn't then.  But I do now.
This is somewhere way up there inside me.  Somewhere I can't even reach."
Ryan was flushed with embarrassment at admitting these private things to a
virtual stranger.

"How perplexing!" the doctor exclaimed.  "So you've fingered your pussy
trying to scratch this particular itch?"

Ryan frowned at Schwartz' vulgar phraseology but admitted, "Does no good.
Can't reach that far on my own."

"So, tell me," Schwartz continued, an amused gleam in his dark eyes, "what
other remedies have you pursued?"

Swallowing hard, Ryan slowly went on.  "I sorta found out that there are
things that can reach what I can't."

"Such as?"

"Like, stuff from the fridge.  Bananas work good.  Cucumbers.  And,
and----"

"Yes, boy, what?"  Schwartz was on the edge of his seat, excitement evident
on his unshaven features.

"Those big curved zucchinis," Ryan blurted out.  "They always hit that
spot."

Schwartz slapped his thighs and stomped his feet giddily.  "You certainly
are a boy wonder!  Yes, you are.  My, my!"  Then, in zero seconds flat, he
turned to all seriousness.  "Now, son, is there anything else which helps
abate this particular annoyance?"

"Well, yes," Ryan replied sheepishly.  "But it's sort of private."

"Come, come, boy.  I'm your doctor.  There are no secrets here.  Out with
it, I say!"

Ryan's cast his eyes down to a random spot on the floor to avert those of
the mad doctor.  "When a guy sticks his dick---I mean penis---up in there.
Especially if it's a really big one."

"Cock, dick, pecker; it's all the same thing."  Schwartz crossed his legs
and assumed the role of a news investigator.  With his bushy brows
furrowed, in a deeper and authoritative voice he asked, "And approximately
how many men have worked their penis into your rectum, young man?"

"Let's see," Ryan began, counting them off on his fingers.  "There was the
auto mechanic, our handyman Lombardo, his black buddy, the three
landscapers and---and one other.  That's all."

"The other?  Who was the other?"

Ryan became sheepish again.  "Do I have to tell you?

"Ry-an.  It's important for the records," Schwartz prodded.

When Ryan gave up his father Schwartz practically jumped out of his seat,
the ends of his mustache doing an excited twirl, his eyes bugging out of
his head.  "Your daddy fucks you, too?  My goodness, I do believe I'm going
to have to make a house call in the future!"

"Doc, Schwartz, Arnie, whatever it is you want me to call you, I
reallllllly don't think this is helping.  I'm just going to get dressed and
get going.  Thanks for your time and all, I guess."  Again he started to
rise, but Schwartz was quicker to his feet.

With his written notes falling askew from his lap and fluttering to the
floor, along with the clang of the clipboard, he over dramatically
declared, "But we haven't even begun the examination!  You've come all the
way here!  Done all the preparation!"  Curling one end of his mustache
between his fingers, he went on, "At least let me have a look."

After a moment of hesitation Ryan relented.  "Well, alright.  Just a quick
look."

"Yes, yes," Schwartz replied excitedly.  "I can be very quick when I want
to be.  Yes, indeedy I can!  Now off with the gown and on your hands and
knees on the table like a good boy."

Still entirely unsure, but anxious to learn what drove him to such sexual
depravity, Ryan followed the doctor's orders.  Down on strong forearms with
his big beautiful butt raised in the air, he presented quite a sight for
Schwartz, who did an exaggerated double take when he got a gander at the
athlete's goods.  Ryan's ass was one of the untold wonders of the world, a
thing of such magnificence it had to be seen to be believed.  Big, solid
and smooth it swelled out from the base of his spine to the juncture of his
muscular thighs like a pair of perfect melons bisected by a deep, alluring
cleft kissed by the finest of downy hairs.  The tiny jewel peeking out from
the delicious crack was perfectly pink and refreshingly clean.  It was
difficult to believe that such a virginally appearing hole had ever been
breached.

Schwartz' tongue was literally hanging from his gaping mouth as he reached
out to the upturned, creamy buns, his long fingers twitching like those of
a warlock casting a wicked spell.  Ryan glanced over one bulging shoulder
and was once again confused by the unprofessional demeanor of the
physician.  There was a lecherous look to the madcap doctor that made him
doubt Coach's recommendation.

"Doc," he managed thickly.  "Wh-what are you going to do?"

The words seemed to break Schwartz from his bawdy reverie.  "Why I'm going
to examine you, boy.  Of course I am.  You drank all that solution last
night, nuh?"

"Yes, I do everything Coach tells me to do," Ryan replied.

"I'm sure you do," Schwartz retorted, almost under his breath.  Reaching
for a jar on a nearby stand he punched several fingers into the gooey
lubricant and tentatively, excitedly, brought them to Ryan's winking hole.
Rubbing some of the slick lube over the teen's wrinkled bud he said, "Now
at the count of three I want you to take a deep breath.  Can you do that
for me, Ryan?  Of course you can.  One, two,---" And then he pushed his
long middle digit into Ryan's warm, clutching hole up to the last hairy
knuckle.  Deeply imbedded in the teen's hot ass Schwartz probed around
until he'd located the boy's healthy prostate.  Ryan tried but couldn't
resist moaning and squirming when the unconventional doctor massaged his
trigger.

"Is that it?" Schwartz asked excitedly.  "Is that where you feel it, Ryan?"

"YES!" the boy sighed between gritted teeth.  "I mean no, that's not it.
But, EWWWWW, YESSSS!"

Schwartz enthusiastically slipped a second finger into Ryan's bodacious boy
butt and worked them around in the steamy chasm.  As the man knuckled his
prostate Ryan began to feel that familiar sensation deep in his guts.
"It's starting!" he reported.  "OH GAWD, IT'S STARTING!"

Schwartz was all animated elation.  Ryan's hot ass was clutching at his
fingers and riding his hand.  To his wondrous eyes the boy's dangling dick
grew harder and harder with each passing second until he was fully, and
majestically, erect.  Schwartz ventured to add a third bare, ungloved
finger into the teen's sweet hole, opening him up even wider.  "Deeper,
deeper!" Ryan cried, prompting Schwartz to thrust his threesome as far up
into the clutching asshole as he could reach.  Shaping them into a cone he
fucked in and out of Ryan's frantic hole while he canvassed the perfectly
curved slopes of the boy's bubbled buttocks with his other hand.  Unable to
resist he brought his face to the left globe, rubbed the side of a grizzled
cheek against the smoothness and rolled out his tongue to lap at it.  Ryan
ground back against him, aroused by the sensation of the man's thick curled
mustache tickling his tush while he feverishly finger fucked him.

"Oh Doc!" Ryan cried in frustration.  "It's driving me crazy! It needs to
go deeper.  Much deeper!  Please, Please help me!"

Schwartz was breathing heavily, thoroughly consumed with a feeling of lust.
So involved was he in his own predicament Ryan failed to notice the
otherwise obvious strain against the front of the zany doctor's tattered
jeans.  Schwartz toyed with his hole a bit longer and then withdrew his
fingers.  "Seems like we are going to have to probe further," he announced
breathlessly.  "On your side, boy. Knees up to your chest.  That's it!
Good boy!  We're going to have to go deep now, yes we are."  All the while
he was prepping his scope for further exploration.  "This little camera
here will tell us all we need to know.  Won't hurt a bit, boy!  Not a bit!"
And with that he began to insert the tip of the wand between Ryan's hungry
anal lips.



Miles Baldwin purposefully strode down the long corridor of his sons' high
school toward the gymnasium.  He'd earlier received a summons from Jarek
Kowalski, the boy's football coach, for an emergency parent-teacher
conference.  School had been dismissed earlier, with only a few students
still milling about.  He was startled to round a corner and nearly collide
with Bahir Mustafa, the Muslim boy from next door.

"Mr. Davidson, how nice to see you again!" the good-looking, darker-skinned
boy greeted good-naturedly.

"A meeting with Coach Kowalski," Miles offered somewhat nervously,
sheepishly averting his eyes from those of the attractive youth.

"His office is down this way, just off the gymnasium," Bahir directed him.

"Yes, I know.  I've been here before," Miles allowed.  "Well, I'm already
late.  Tell your father I send my regards."

"I will," Bahir smiled back, turning to watch the other man hurry off down
the hallway.  He held fond memories of that late evening not so long ago
when he'd enjoyed an anonymous tryst with the well-hung daddy at the adult
shop on the outskirts of town.  Miles had fucked him well and Bahir was
more than ready for a repeat performance.  Bahir often wondered if his
classmate Trey, Miles' eldest son, was anywhere near as good as the father.
How awesome would it be to have had his ass fucked by both hunky Davidsons?
With that thought in mind, and a sly smile on his face, Bahir casually
resumed his hallway stroll.

With hands stuffed in his pockets to camouflage the rising Bahir had caused
him Miles stepped into the large gymnasium, where he discovered basketball
practice in progress.  He recognized some of the boys as friends of either
Trey or Ryan who had spent summer afternoons frolicking in the Baldwin
pool.  Tall good-looking Chuck Bauer, identical twin brother of first Trey
and now Ryan's girlfriend Carrie, made a basket as Miles stood there
watching.  One of the players, a friend of his eldest son's and occasional
visitor to the Baldwin home, caught Miles' eye and gestured to him.  Waving
back at the youth with a good-natured smile Miles moved over to the office
door adjoining the play area.

Kowalski was attending to something in the standing locker in a corner of
the relatively small room when Miles entered.  Turning to look over a big
rounded shoulder he coldly looked Miles up and down and growled, "You're
late, Baldwin.  But then, from what I remember of the old college days, you
always were."

"Sorry," Miles offered, not so sure he enjoyed being scolded by the other
man.  "Traffic."

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Kowalski sing-songed, unconvinced by the excuse.  He
nodded to the chair facing his desk.  "Take a seat.  So how've you been,
Baldwin."

"Good, Jarek," Miles replied as he rested back in the chair.  "Yourself?"

"Not as good as you up there in that big fancy house, driving that flashy
car and playing hubby to the richest broad around," Kowalski told him as he
finished up his task in the locker.  Turning to face Miles he crossed his
arms over his wide chest.  "Me, I'm workin' toward retirement."

Miles laughed nervously.  "You've got a ways to go, Jarek.  You're only,
what, one or two years older than me?"

"Somethin' like that," Kowalski grumbled.  "Seems to me early retirement
worked out well for you, Baldwin."

Uncomfortable with the tone of the conversation Miles opted to change the
subject.  "Jarek, you asked me to come out here for a conference.  Is there
some trouble with the boys?"

"Oh, Trey, he seems to be doing fine now," Kowalski reported, seating
himself in the comfortable swivel chair behind his desk.  "He went off the
boards for a little while there, got lazy over the summer, but he's been
working hard on getting himself back on track.  I'm even thinking about
starting him at the next game.  Give Ryan a little rest.  Maybe."

Hesitating momentarily, Miles composed himself and ventured, "Ryan, then?
Is there a problem with Ryan?"

"That one there is a good kid.  Trey, he's a little on the wild side.  Bit
of a wise-ass, if you want to know the truth.  But Ryan, he's a nice,
respectful young man.  Built like a brick shithouse, too."  Kowalski
chuckled to himself as he saw Miles shift uncomfortably in his chair.
"Hate to choose favorites but I've recently developed a, how can I explain
it, special fondness for that boy."

Miles caught the amused look in Jarek's pale blue eyes and found himself
blushing.  Clearing his throat, he said, "Then I don't understand the
problem----"

"Problem, Baldwin?  The problem?"  Reaching into the top drawer of his desk
he extracted a manilla envelope and tossed it across the desk.  "You tell
me if there's a problem."

Miles' eyes widened as he looked at the envelope, Coach Kowalski's name
printed in black ink on its surface.  Although he knew only too well what
it contained he made a show of puzzlement and reached for the package.
Kowalski sat back in his chair, amusedly watching as Miles made a show of
curiously opening in and extracting the contents.  His mock surprise at
viewing the photos of Ryan in a series of incriminating sexual acts turned
to real shock as he leafed through them.

"Wh-where did you get these?" he managed.

"The first few are the ones you put in that envelope and slipped under my
door.  The others are the ones Trey got off your other son and gave up to
me."

"Trey? Lucas?"  Miles looked truly horrified.  "Wait a minute, Jarek.  What
are you accusing me of?"

"Not an accusation, Miles.  Facts.  You see," he went on, "at first I
thought it was Trey trying to get even with Ryan.  A little sibling
rivalry.  But after a talk with him I came to realize he wasn't the
culprit.  Two things you didn't count on when you gave me this little gift.
First was Trey having to take a wicked piss during the Brunswick game,
coming into the locker room and seeing you slipping out the opposite door.
The other was you thinkin' I wouldn't remember that little
strawberry-shaped mole you got right there below your belly button.  You
can see it real clear in that picture there, the one where Ryan's suckin'
on your cock."

Miles knew the jig was up.  There was no point in denying any of it.
Desperate to break his son away from the evil clutches of Lombardo Miles
had offered Ryan up to the man he knew could take care of the boy's needs.
Miles had served as Jarek's bottom boy on several occasions during those
early college years.  In certain circles it had been quietly known that the
upperclassman had a proclivity for cute, blond freshmen.  With this
knowledge in mind he'd gambled on the chance that, all these years later,
Kowalski wouldn't be able to resist sampling the younger version of the
father.  With Ryan being such a hot fuck Kowalski would surely formulate a
clandestine relationship with the boy.  The more Kowalski dicked him the
less tempted Ryan would be to seek out Lombardo---or Miles.

"You're right," Miles admitted.  "But there was a reason."  And he
proceeded to explain all to the other man.  He even revealed how he'd
tapped into the security camera system in the pool house, lured Ryan there
for sex and recorded the entire encounter, which he then transferred into
the photographs in question.

"Seems like you're not the only one in your household takin' pictures,"
Kowalski chided him.  "Your younger boy evidently has them little spy cams
set up all over the place from the looks of them other shots.  The one with
the big dick Ryan's ridin' must be the handyman you're talkin' about."

"Yes, that's Lombardo," Miles replied, taking another look at the glossy of
Ryan posting on the slick ex-con's huge cock.  "And I will definitely have
a conversation with Lucas about all this."

"Don't know how you're gonna handle that, Baldwin, bein' that both your
boys know you've been dickin' their brother.  According to Trey, the
director in your family has a nice little package of video starring Ryan
and featuring all the cocksmen at your place.  Including you."  Coach was
enjoying seeing Miles squirm with the knowledge that his antics were fairly
common knowledge around the Baldwin house.  "But there's somethin' else you
don't know," he added.

"What the fuck else could there be?" Miles shot back angrily.

"While you and all those others were busy getting your rocks off up your
jock son's pussy not a one of you ever stopped to consider why in fuck Ryan
was allowing you to fuck him.  The boy's got something going on up in his
butt.  I don't know that he was embarrassed to tell you, not with what all
the fucking going on.  More'n likely he was just plain scared."

Miles frowned.  "I'm not following you."

"He's got somethin' gnawing away up in his butt.  At least that's what I
got out of what he tried to explain," Jarek announced. "The only thing
calms it down is having something up there massaging the spot, preferably a
big dick.  If you weren't so concerned about your own pleasure you might
have felt it up there.  I did.  It's like a little hard nub of some kind.
It's been drivin' the kid out of his fucking mind."

"Is this something serious?" Miles asked incredulously.

"We're about to find out," Kowalski went on.  "I made an appointment for
him with an old friend of mine across town, Doc Schwartz.  He's taken care
of a lot of my athletes over the years when they've got sensitive issues
and don't want their folks to know.  Schwartzie is real discreet, if you
know what I mean.  In fact, he's probably examining Ryan right at this very
minute."




"That's it!  That's it!" Schwartz exclaimed excitedly.  "I've never seen
one like it before!  This is one for the record books, indeed it is!  A
medical marvel!  A true discovery!"

"Wh-what is it, Doc?" Ryan peered over a shoulder at the disheveled man
probing his rectum.  "Is it real bad?"

"Bad?  Not bad at all.  Very good, in fact.  Amazing, actually!"  He slowly
withdrew the long, thin camera tube from Ryan's insides and set it aside.
Ryan brought himself up to a sitting position at the edge of the
examination table, his dressing gown long since discarded.

"So it's not----cancer?"

"No, no, no, you silly boy," Schwartz giggled.  "Wherever did you get such
an idea?  Not cancer.  Nothing bad a'tall.  It's a scientific miracle, is
what it is."

"But, what is it?" Ryan asked, confused.

"You know what a clit is, young man?"  When Ryan nodded Schwartz continued.
"You're got one! Right there at the entrance to your upper sigmoid."

"But---isn't that something girls have?"

"Of course they do.  But you've got one, too!"

"Well, how do I get rid of it?"

"Get rid of it!"  Schwartz appeared horrified.  "Why would you want to get
rid of it, boy?  Having a clit, or at least something resembling a clit,
gives you the ultimate in sexual orgasm!  No, no!  You don't want to get
rid of it, surely you don't!"

"But it drives me crazy!" Ryan protested.

"You've got to learn control, boy! Control and lots of massage to keep it
calm."

"There's not some, like, pill I could take?  Some surgery I could have?" A
frustrated Ryan questioned.

"Surgery!  Drugs!  No, no, of course not!"  The doctor shook his head
dramatically.  "Therapy, that's what you need.  Physical therapy, at least
four times a week after school and again on the weekend."

"But I have practice after school," Ryan argued.

"Not to worry, not to worry.  We'll work something out, yes we will."  His
twinkling eyes grew big behind his specs as a thought occurred to him.  "WE
CAN BEGIN IMMEDIATELY!"  Clapping his hands and doing an excited little
dance he instructed, "Now lie back like a good boy.  That's right.  Spread
those big, muscle thighs and lift your legs.  Oh, yes, that's nice!  Very,
very nice!"  Once again unsure of the doctor's unorthodox methods Ryan
lifted his head to look between the juncture of his wide-spread thighs and
saw the drooling man fumbling with the catch and zipper on his jeans.
Suddenly it dawned on Ryan just what type of physical therapy the
certifiable quack had in mind for him.  But before he could protest the
doctor's whanger, unconfined by underwear, sprang up out of his jeans into
the open, rendering Ryan speechless except for a startled gasp.

An enormous tube of doctor dick slapped better than half way up against the
man's chest, spraying droplets of pre cum on his t-shirt.  It was a
fearsome thing!  Bigger than Lombardo's, more huge than anything
imaginable, it was both obscene and breathtaking at the same time.  Rising
threateningly from a matted jungle of coarse pubic hair it was fourteen,
possibly even fifteen, inches of thick vein-mottled horse cock.  It swayed
there like a King Cobra, sniffing out its prey.  The blunt head of the
mammoth unit was the size of Ryan's clenched fist, its wet lips pulsing
open and closed as if breathing on its own and emitting glistening beads of
clear liquid.  A pair of huge and hairy bulls balls hung heavily below the
monstrous stalk as if overloaded with ammunition.

The physician giddily stepped out of his jeans and moved in on the
terrified teen.  Ryan was up on his elbows, unsuccessfully attempting to
back away on the examination table but Schwartz had him by his raised legs
returning him to the edge.

"Now, now, young master," Schwartz sing-songed, "this will only hurt for a
moment."  He dipped into the jar of lube and gave his menacing monster a
hefty dose of greasing.

A film of sweat broke out over Ryan's thick upper lip and he shook his head
from side to side with real worry in his eyes.  "No, no!  It's TOO BIG! IT
WILL KILL ME!"

"Not to worry.  I'm a doctor!  Says so right on that wall over there, yes
it does!"  The demented doc let out another peal of laughter, then became
altogether serious.  "Now, Ryan, you want to get better, don't you?  Take
your medicine and you'll feel much, much better."

With that said the big bestial thing coiled and, as if with a mind of its
own, sprung.  Stabbing at Ryan's clenched pink hole it bore straight
through, punching the gigantic head between his juicy lips and lodged
itself inside.  Ryan howled and Schwartz, having earlier advised his
trusted receptionist to leave and lock up after his last patient arrived,
as he did with all the athletes Kowalski sent him, freely bellowed.  The
colossal cock relentlessly burrowed through Ryan's squirming asshole,
gasping asshole, seemingly on a search and destroy mission.  The teen's
blue eyes bugged and brimmed with tiny tears when the rampant destroyer
sailed over his trouble spot, the internal clit, and kept going.  Ryan
clutched the sides of the exam table, his head violently tossing to and
fro, as the bulging veins of the hefty horse cock taunted his trigger and
plundered new, deeper territory where no man had ever gone before.

The one-eyed monster ravaged Ryan's hole, its mammoth head like a magnet
drawn to the murkiest depths of the boy's guts.  Schwartz was slack-jawed,
his mouth agape and his glasses tilted on his large proboscis as the big
dick yanked him along with it, sending the doctor's hairy groin slapping
against Ryan's tight end.  Even then the possessed prick attempted to delve
deeper, straining the tendons in Schwartz' groin and threatening to rip the
dick right off him.  The loony doctor tried with all his might to extract
himself from the boy but the suction proved too strong.  He was hopelessly
embedded in the jock's greedy ass!

All at once Ryan spasmed, shooting gobs of hot teen spunk over his heaving
chest.  As he thrashed and bucked through a violent, ball-draining orgasm
his sizzling teen cunt clutched even more desperately at the trunk-like
dong.  Schwartzie's eyes rolled around in his head like scattered balls on
a pool table and his wild hair frizzed as if he'd received an electrical
jolt.  The hot grip of the muscular young jock's ass worked his buried
megameat in ways he'd never dreamed possible.  He hardly realized that his
hefty ball sac had knotted up tight between his hairy thighs in record
time.  With the boy's ravenous rectum holding him captive Schwartz let out
a long, strangled cry, tensed, then blasted his load.  His specs, now
hanging precariously at the tip of his nose, revealed eyes that were glazed
and distant while the boy milked him for all his worth.  On weak legs he
grasped the foot of the table for support while his manly cock fed Ryan a
healthy dose of medicine.  Waves of rapture rushed over him as he convulsed
again and again, flooding his patient's grasping guts with hot creamy cum.

With the seal magically broken Schwartz finally managed to squelch free
from Ryan's trap.  He fell back against a side table, mopping his brow with
a towelette while he attempted to regain his breath.  It had been the most
delicious cum of his life!  Ryan Baldwin was a true wonder!  Through bleary
eyes he observed the hot jock still lying there, running his hands over his
cum-drenched torso and reaching between his spectacular, still-raised
thighs to finger his leaking asshole.

"H-how do you feel now, Ryan?" he managed to inquire.

"Oh, doc, that made it feel so much better!" Ryan exclaimed excitedly.

Back to his former self Schwartz slapped a palm against his forehead.  "By
George, I think we've found the solution.  It's a miraculous healing, yes
it is!"  Then, adopting a fatherly seriousness, in a deeper voice he went
on, "But young man, continued treatment is tantamount to your recovery."

"Sure Doc," Ryan responded, coming up on an elbow to look across at the
other man wearing nothing more than t-shirt and lab coat.  "But do you
think that, well, maybe---"

"What is it, boy?  Don't hem and haw.  Spit it out now."

"Do you think I could have, like, another treatment today?"  Hurriedly
following his inquiry with a justifiable, "Just to make sure."

Schwartz pushed his glasses up on his nose and took a look down at his
cockstalk, which was still rock hard, ready and able.  "I think another
treatment is advisable.  Indeed, it is."

As the man whipped off his lab coat and t-shirt Ryan playfully replied,
"Just what the doctor ordered."




In his private office Kowalski rested his big, bulky body back in his
swivel chair with one hairy, naked leg thrown up over an arm rest and the
other cocked against the edge of the desk while he chewed on a mouthful of
tobacco.  In the cubby under the workstation Miles Baldwin was down on his
haunches licking the shag of the other man's funky crack.  The blond
husband and father of four lathed the hairy butt ditch with his full
tongue, lapping at it like a hungry dog.  He palmed open the deep trench
and worked his unit on the ripe, pulsing asshole.  He nibbled on the lips,
sucked Coach's raunchy manhole and stabbed his tongue into the shit chute.

"Oooohh fuck yeah, Baldwin," Kowalski growled through his chewing tobacco.
"Tongue fuck my ass.  Clean that bitch up and eat out my nasty hole,
motherfucker!  Work that tongue all the fuckin' way in there and drill it
around.  Oh, fuck yeah, JUST LIKE THAT!"

Miles was screwing his tongue around in the tight, clutching aperture with
his lips suctioned firmly against Jarek's hairy hole.  He sucked
frantically while his tongue eagerly probed the Coach's murky depths.
Coach tasted just the way a man should taste, all sweaty and musty.  While
he reamed out the macho man's ass walls Miles' eyes were cast upward at the
tower of man meat majestically rising from the man's coiled pubic thatch.
It was every bit of eight to nine inches of thick muscle and heavy corded
veins topped by an over-sized knob with a heavy set of man balls hanging
below.  Miles whimpered recalling how that hot meaty fucker felt down his
throat and up his ass the few times Jarek had rewarded him in college.

"Get that tongue on up there, man!" Kowalski snarled.  "I ain't showered
all day, so you might just taste your boy on me.  That's right, Baldwin.
Instead of lunch he was down there eatin' my hole, too.  Couldn't put
anythin' in his belly anyways, not with Doc Schwartz' exam this afternoon.
But he sure worked the fuck out of my shitter.  Like father, like son."

Miles mewled into Kowalski's hole, the thought of his handsome young son
eating out Jarek's hirsuite hole arousing his libido even further.  When
he'd received the man's summons he hadn't exactly been sure what to expect.
He never suspected Jarek would easily identify him from the scandalous
photos he'd provided, the photos meant to coerce Kowalski to persuade Ryan
away from Lombardo's nefarious clutches.  At least that part of his plan
had worked.  Kowalski was giving Ryan what he needed in the form of his
big, hard boy fucker.  If what Kowalski had hanging between his hairy legs
wasn't enough to satiate the horny boy Miles didn't know what else would.
With Ryan safely in the capable hands of his old college acquaintance the
boy would be less compelled to seek out Lombardo's services.  It was the
first step in extricating the varmint from the Baldwin household.

But Kowalski had discovered what no one else, even Ryan, suspected.  There
seemingly was a medical reason for the teen's special needs.  Jarek had
taken the bull by the horns, as it were, and steered Ryan to a doctor
capable of identifying his problem.  Kowalski deserved thanks for stepping
up to the plate and overseeing Ryan's "condition."  When Coach suggested a
little "for old time's sake" who was Miles to deny him?  Besides, Jarek was
a fine, rugged-looking stud, a real man's man.  Even the loss of his hair
couldn't take away from the raw sexuality he conveyed.  Miles was all at
once feeling those familiar stirrings and anxious for another taste.

Knowing that his sexy son had been routing around in that hairy, sweaty ass
trench only a few hours before caused Miles to devour Coach's hole more
ravenously.  He dug his tongue way far up into that ripe and raunchy shit
chute and whipped Kowalski's tasty anal walls into a frenzy.  Coach hawked
up a mouthful of tobacco induced spit into his palm, clutched his big juicy
dick and started pumping up and down.  As rich pre-cum oozed from the evil
eye Kowalski used his fat thumb to smear it over the glistening head.
Miles whined feebly as he observed Coach pleasuring his man tool.  Much as
he could have easily lived in the hairy stud's ass the concupiscent house
husband just had to get his mouth on that manly fuckstalk.

Miles licked his way up over Jarek's furry perineum, sucked on his big
sweaty balls and then ran his tongue along the man's fat, blunt digits as
they stroked the rigid beef.  Kowalksi shoved four of his chunky fingers
into Miles' sucking mouth down to the last hairy knuckle while running his
thick thumb along the other man's wet upper lip.  Miles showed his desire
for the stud by treating those exploring digits just as if they were cock,
flicking his tongue over and around while noisily slurping on them.  When
it seemed as he was on the verge of shoving his entire fist into Miles' maw
Jarek pulled out, grabbed Miles by both sides of his face as he came closer
and spat into the blonde's mouth.  Wet saliva mixed with chewing tobacco
washed over Miles' palate.  Quickly he extricated it, spitting the glob
right back onto Kowalski's lusty cock.  And then he dove on it.

As the amber-hued recycled slobber lazily oozed down the thick cord on the
under belly of the strong, veiny cock Miles put his tongue to it and with
one long lap cleaned it up.  The taste of tobacco combined with his and
Kowalski's secretions tasted not at all unpleasant, but rather primal.
Holding it steady by its thick, hairy base Miles skirted his tongue all
over the brawny shaft, spit-shining it to a glistening hue and making the
big hearty veins even more prominent.  Moaning his arousal as he inhaled
every manly scent of musk and sweat from the Coach's ripe crotch Miles
worshipped the cock which had pleasured him so many years ago in his wild
and wooly college days.

As if reading his mind Kowalski growled, "Bringin' back memories, Baldwin?
Get down on that dick and make me remember if you're half as good as your
boy.  Suck it hard!  We ain't pussies; we're men here!  The rougher you get
with it, the bigger the load!"

Miles skittered under the desk excitedly, positively whimpering at the
thought of his final reward: a big load of Kowalski's hot creamy jizz.
Consumed by savage lust he brought the beefy knob to his hungry mouth.
Yawning his lips widely open he enveloped the helmet in the warmth of his
maw and began voraciously sucking on it.  His tongue swirled around the
heavy crown stuck in his mouth and worked its way between the meaty folds
of the leaking slit as he doused it with mouth full of succulent saliva.
Curling his fingers around the meaty shaft he pounded his fist up and down
its impressive length while plumping the man's bull nuts in the palm of his
other sweaty mitt.

"Get down on that dick!" Coach ordered, spitting a wad of tobacco into the
trash can at his side.  "I remember you havin' no problem doin' it before!
Gag on that meat, bitch!"

With a strangled cry Miles sank down on the fat cock, spearing all of its
inches down his throat.  He choked, he sputtered, but he admirably held it
there in the clutch of his pipe.  Scents were even funkier with his nose
pressed against Kowalski's thick bush, but it only served to increase his
desire for the man.  With the huge dick stuffed deep in his gullet Miles
milked it for all his worth.

"Fuck, yeah!" Coach sighed huskily, his head falling back and dreamily
staring up at the ceiling.  "Just about as good as your boy.  Now fuck that
piece with your mouth pussy.  And you better take it all the way every
time, you hear?"

Miles hummed something that sounded like affirmation.  Pulling his face
back he brought the knobby dick out from his throat, greedily feasted on
the marvelous head while he caught his breath, then shoved it all the way
back in.  With lips pressed up against Kowalski's bushy groin he feasted on
the cock, making all sorts of arousing sounds as abundant saliva trailed
down over the Coach's hairy nuts.

Kowalski failed to flinch at the sound of keys working the office door, nor
did he make a move to conceal his shenanigans when Clay Washington, the
Assistant Coach stepped in.  The light-skinned, bi-racial man immediately
assessed the situation.

"Cripes, Kowalski," he exclaimed, rushing over to close the venetian blinds
separating office from locker room.  "Practice is over and the team is
headed to the showers.  One look in that window and they could've seen you
fucking around!  Who you got under the desk?  The Baldwin kid we both
fucked the other day?"

His ears perking, Miles choked at the other man's words.  But Kowalski put
a firm hand on his head and held him in place.  "Points for you,
Washington.  I got Baldwin down here, alright!"

Washington clucked his tongue and grinned.  "Damn, Coach, you're too much!
Can't get enough of that jock, can you?  I'd like to join you but somebody
has to keep an eye on our team.  I'll leave you two alone and shower with
the boys, I guess."  He gathered up his duffel bag and headed to the door
leading into the locker room.  "The Bauer kid is going to like this.  He's
been checking out my bulge for weeks."  And with a sly wink he was gone.

Kowalski chuckled as he looked down at the handsome blue-eyed, blond-haired
dad pigging out on his fat, greasy meat.  Hooking up with the Coolidge cunt
had financially set Baldwin up for life and still he couldn't control his
hunger for cock.  It gave Kowalski a rush of superiority having the rich
bastard feasting on his working class junk.  "You heard right, Baldwin," he
taunted.  "Me and Washington both fuck your boy.  Washington, he's got a
dick bigger'n you or me.  You shoulda seen Ryan when he was gettin' banging
by that damned thing.  Kid was fuckin' delirious!"

Miles whimpered again around the chunk of man meat lodged in his throat.
He'd seen Assistant Coach Washington at the boys' games and knew him to be
fitness cover-model gorgeous, fresh out of college and of ethnic
persuasion.  Miles was almost envious over his son's stable of stud.  With
all the cock he was evidently getting at school the horny teen's
fascination over Lombardo must surely come to an end soon.  With this
reassuring thought in mind Miles expressed his appreciation by more
slavishly worshipping Kowalski's thick meat.



Across town in the doctor's office husky young Ryan was on his back on the
examination table, cupping the back of his head in his hands, as buck-naked
Dr. Schwartz hovered over him in push-up position pumping his jock hole.
The unorthodox doctor was fucking his boy twat real deep, never breaking
contact with the newly discovered ultra-sensitive clit.  Ryan was in
various degrees of ecstasy as the colossal cock ceaselessly raked over his
buried trigger.  Schwartz' humongous instrument was proving the perfect
size to really work the athlete's problem area.  He moaned, he groaned, he
trashed about grabbing fist's full of the doctor's abundant chest hair and
deliriously gnashed his perfect teeth together while the man relentlessly
plowed his hole.

Treating his hunky young patient was just as heavenly for Schwartz.  The
jock's deep, ravenous pussy was making him delirious with sexual euphoria.
There weren't many could take all of Schwartzie's outrageous torpedo but
Ryan was valiantly accepting every last inch.  Schwartz heaved onward,
thrusting all fifteen massive inches up into the murkiest depths of the
teen's bowels.  The sensation of his medical discovery, the clitoris inside
the boy, was like a tickler riding the underside of his behemoth,
pleasuring him as much as Ryan.  His jaw was dropped, mouth hanging open
and his eyes fluttering up in their sockets from the wicked sensations
caused by young Baldwin's hot hole.  Despite all the fucking he'd
supposedly experienced Ryan was still tight as a nubile virgin, although
any pussy would have felt firm stuffed with Schwartz' he-man schlong.  The
boy's insides stubbornly clenched around him as if desperate to hold him
inside but Schwartz tore through, bouncing his hairy balls off Ryan's
smooth upturned cheeks with each gut-wrenching thrust.

Ryan panted huskily through thick, pooched-out lips, his brows knitted in a
fuck scowl.  Up close Doc Schwartz actually wasn't a bad-looking guy sans
those silly specs he initially wore.  With a smart haircut, a trim to that
ridiculously upturned mustache and some plucking to his beetle brows he
might clean up quite nicely.  Although not nearly as muscular as Ryan or
his father Schwartz had a decent enough body with some real definition.
And he was hairy all over.  Hairier even than the auto mechanic in the
garage towns away who had first satiated Ryan's itch.  Schwartz's chest and
torso was one matt of dark hair, which sprayed up over his shoulders, down
his arms and more than likely covered his back.  Even though he was a
medical man, that dark, insidious lust Ryan held for a certain type of man
was ignited by the doctor's appearance.  Although initially skeptical, he
was now grateful Coach Kowalski had recommended the doctor.

"Oh yes, Doc.  Fuck me!" he moaned sexily.

Schwartz thrust his horse dick to the balls up the high school
quarterback's muscle ass, stroking it over the buried button.  Ryan was
sizzling under him, running his fingers through the matt of hair on his
chest and grabbing at his erect man nips.  On instinct Schwartz took hold
of Ryan's twitching boy meat.  Ryan's eyes shot wide open and his muscle
bod went rigid.  One touch from Schwartz was all it took to set his cock
squirting another load of cock juice all over his heaving chest.  Ryan's
insides went crazy on Schwartz' big prick stuffed way up in his bowels.
Reverberations coursed through the doctor's thick prick as Ryan's rapture
spiraled, inducing wave upon wave of rich boy juice.

Ryan's orgasm was so intense that it actually spiked him on the forehead
and landed on his panting lips.  A small cry escaped the doctor when the
boy smacked his gums together, tasting the discharge, then scooped a puddle
from his deep pec cleavage and hungrily ate.  Dipping his fingers in more
of the goo he offered it up to Schwartz, who savagely feasted on the boy's
wet fingers.  Aroused beyond restraint, the doctor could take no more.
With a bellow of pure animal passion he threw back his head and blasted off
way up inside of Ryan.  Powerful jets of cum released from his bloated ball
bag and scoured the boy's murkiest depths.  His body hunched again and
again as an incredible amount of semen spewed freely, flooding the teen
jock's well-fucked pussy.

Schwartz fell away from the hot jock breathlessly, dragging his anaconda
out of Ryan's asshole.  With a squelching pop the big head broke free and a
gush of man cream oozed from the gaping hole.  Supporting himself on the
table behind him Schwartz reached for his glasses and, with trembling hand,
placed them crookedly on his beak.  Donning his discarded lab coat, and
nothing else, he made a show of reaching for the boy's chart.

"N-now Brian....Brian, is it?  No, no!  That's wrong.  Ryan....Ryan it is.
Now th-that was only the first treatment," he rambled on nervously.  "You
r-really can't expect much from just one----"

"Doc, I feel better already," Ryan broke in.  He was up on an elbow,
looking entirely blissful, and sliding two fingers in and out of his
cum-drenched gash.  "Your, um, treatment really worked, I think."  The
doctor's lower lip quivered and the chart slipped from his hands,
clattering to the floor, when Ryan brought those same fingers to his mouth
and licked them clean.

"I-I strongly recommend that your therapy continue," Schwartz managed,
"so's not to suffer a relapse, that is."

"Sure, Doc," Ryan replied cheerfully, bouncing off the table and reaching
for his clothes.  "How about tomorrow, same time?"

"Why y-yes, of course....of course.  I'm sure I could fit you in.  Yes,
tomorrow will do quite nicely."

Looking over his shoulder at the doctor as he bent to slip a leg into the
opening of his boxer briefs Ryan couldn't help but grin when he observed
Schwartz's widened eyes on the globes of his jock ass.  "I've got an, um,
appointment with Coach Kowalski late tomorrow morning.  I'm gonna have to
thank him for sending me over to see you.  I'm pretty sure this is gonna
work out.  For the both of us."

Schwartz whimpered, his mustache twirled and his humongous truncheon jumped
excitedly at the imagined prospect of more sessions tapping the Baldwin
boy's big beautiful ass.



Miles distinctly heard the sounds of the basketball team frolicking just
beyond the walls of the office while he maintained his position down
between Coach Kowalski's widely planted, hairy legs.  The lewd thought of
Washington showering with all those hot, naked young jocks made him envious
of the other man.  He could imagine those inquisitive teens stealing
sidelong glances at the more developed, mature man and fighting to conceal
the beginnings of their lusty hard ons.  If Washington had fucked Ryan
(just the mere thought made Miles' cockhead leak volumes) then the
good-looking biracial dude was certainly sizing up some of his young
charges, possibly choosing the next twink ass he'd sink his dick into.

Sliding his mouth up and down the steely shaft Miles took it into his
ravaged throat each time.  Without losing a suck beat he managed to undo
the zipper of his pants and allowed his overly excited cock to spring free
from its confines.  Wrapping a fist around it he frenziedly stroked himself
while gobbling up Kowalski's thick beefsteak.  He took it from musky head
to hairy root again and again, masterfully servicing the tasty treat.  Like
Lombardo's this was a real man's prick, a tough, gnarly beast which
required a cocksucker to really throw himself into it.  Kowalski was the
type of stud who liked his cock to be treated rough.  Chewing on it,
nipping at the strong shaft with sharp teeth, that's the kind of stuff that
got a man like Kowalski howling.

Jarek certainly enjoyed everything Baldwin was doing to impress him.  The
man had become a superb cocksucker in the intervening years between college
and present day.  Kowalski could only wonder at those Baldwin had practiced
on, other than his own son, of course.  There was something deliciously
perverse in the incestuous relations between father and son, both of whom
gave pleasure to his big cock.  The idea of it all drove Kowalski to a
heightened level of randiness.  Ripping off his sweat shirt Jarek grabbed
Miles by the ears and began roughly shoving the other man's head up and
down on his huge, pulsing dick.

"Take that cock, you dirty rich whore," he snarled.  Miles shuddered,
sputtering around the huge boner he was forced down upon.  Tears spilled
from his baby blues, snot leaked from his widely flared nostrils and
spittle freely leaked from the corners of his mouth as Kowalski savagely
man-handled him.  His head spun and his eyes bulged as he was shoved down
on the meaty hardon time after time, barely given enough time to even take
a breath before the next assault.  His chin was slammed into Coach's heavy
ball bag each time, those hairy nads hanging not quite as low as before.
Kowalski continued to fuck Miles' face on his manly prick like he was a
live-action sex toy, mindless of the other man's feeble attempts at
protest.

Kowalski felt the boiling in his nuts and instinctively knew he was
barreling down the home stretch.  But he failed to let up on Baldwin.  As
his big muscles tensed and the pulse pounded in his veins he slammed his
groin up against Miles' handsome face as he was shoving it down on himself.
Miles choked, grabbed hold of Coach's thighs to push himself away, but
nothing could deter a man on a collision course with his feverish orgasm.
Kowalski panted heavily, his eyes rolled back in their sockets, and his
brawny body began to convulse.  With a long groan, loud enough for the
locker room team to have heard, he shot huge jets of Coach-cum straight
down Miles' stuffed esophagus.  In the torrent of his orgasm he unhanded
poor Miles, who came up off the spitting cock gagging and fighting for his
breath.  Hot steamy cum spattered across the blonde man's face, panting him
with a crisscross of man juice.  With an anguished cry Miles capped the
bursting head with his lips and energetically sucked on the spouting man
hose while stroking the big beast through the remainder of its release.  He
swallowed the musky semen, reveling in the rich, heady flavor.

Then, with a sob, Miles was up on his feet before Kowalski, flogging his
own meat.  It only took a few hard pumping strokes before he busted his
nut, shooting a hot load all over Coach's pelt.  "Fuck yeah, Baldwin!
Shoot that fuckin' load!" Coach encouraged while rubbing the man goo into
his hairy chest.  Miles continued unloading until he fell back against the
desk, thoroughly spent.

Minutes later, after they'd cleaned up as best they could, and Miles was
pulling on his slacks Coach resumed his spot behind the desk, one sneakered
foot propped up against the top.  "Don't you worry about your boy, Baldwin.
Doc Schwartz will see to what's ailing him, you can count on that.  And me,
I'll help young Ryan out whenever he wants."

"Thanks Coach," Miles said with a knowing smile.  "I owe you."

"Well now, funny you should mention that," Coach went on in a mischievous
tone.  "I was thinkin' one of these afternoons we should have us a little
parent-teacher-student conference."  With a wink, "If you know what I
mean."

Miles' smile widened.  "I'll see what I can arrange, Coach."

At that moment Washington stepped into the office from the locker area, his
muscular body glistening from the showers and a towel wrapped low around
his hips.  Registering shock when he saw Miles he looked from the blond man
to Kowalski, then back again.

"You-you sort of look like----"

"The Baldwin boy," Kowalski finished for him.  "This here is Ryan's daddy.
Him and me used to go to school together."

Miles offered his hand, his eyes raking over the nearly nude body of the
biracial Assistant Coach.  "Nice to finally meet you," he said.  Then,
turning to look at Coach, "Let's make that a conference between dad, son
and teachers."  He emphasized the plural for Kowalski's benefit.  Coach
leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head and chuckled as Miles gave
Washington another head to toe appraisal, then turned and left.

"Wh-what the fuck?" Washington faced him, astonishment evident on his
handsome features.

"Told you I was with a Baldwin," Coach verified with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Just didn't say which one."



Late that evening, after everyone else in the household had retired,
thirteen-year-old Devyn Baldwin donned his coat, undid the latch to the
casement window and slipped out of his bedroom.  Carefully scaling the
trellis, as he had done on many occasions before, he hastily made his way
down through the ivy from the third floor.  Just as he was nearing ground a
hand grabbed hold of him around the waist.  Devyn railed against assailant,
punching with his fists and kicking at the unknown entity.

"Calm yourself down, little Baldwin," a deep familiar masculine voice
hissed in the night.

"Lemme go!" Devyn cried, frantically trying to extricate himself from the
man's grasp.  The assaulter released the boy, who pushed himself away from
his unwelcome grasp.  Dusting himself off he angrily asked, "What the fuck
you think you're doing?"

Lombardo, the family's ex-convict handyman replied, "How many times have I
told you you're gonna hurt yourself climbing down that wall?  If you really
gotta sneak out then use the lower level, where I camp out."

"What?  So you can keep tabs on me?" Devyn defied the dark man.  Lombardo
had been a thorn in his side ever since catching him under the bleachers
with an almost endless procession of local house husbands.  Lombardo had
promised not to interfere, so long as Devyn did as he asked.  Wary at
first, Devyn was surprised when all the man wanted him to do was return to
the stands with his parents.  But since then he always seemed to be around
when Devyn was trying to keep one of his late night assignations.

"It's past midnight and its cold out here, boy.  You're going right back
upstairs to your bed.  And you're going the conventional way," Lombardo
announced.

Devyn stamped his feet.  "I AM NOT!"

"You are," Lombardo smiled, a gleam of satisfaction in his cold eyes.  "Or
I'm going up, waking daddy and letting him know where his baby boy is off
to."

"YOU'RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!" Devyn pouted.

"But your daddy is," Lombardo reminded him.  "What do you think he's going
to do when he finds out you been sneakin' out kicking it to all the old
dudes in this town?  You'll be lucky if all they do is send you to a shrink
and not a reformatory for bad little boys."

Devyn knew Lombardo had won.  Again.  He hated the man.  Lombardo needed to
be gone.  He wasn't sure exactly how he'd manage it, but Devyn was
determined to find the means.  Gathering himself up he brusquely brushed
past the amused man and made his way to the side entrance leading to the
lower level of the mansion.

With a smile of satisfaction Lombardo watched the boy go.  Standing in the
glow of the moonlight he suddenly shivered.  It was a cool, crisp autumn
night and he was hardly dressed for it.  His man nips were rock hard and
slamming against the front of his thin shirt.  He looked up to a window on
the third level, the one behind which young Ryan slept, and frowned.  He
wasn't sure exactly why, but the boy had been avoiding him lately.  So, for
that matter, had his father.

Although he'd originally thought of them as another over-privileged
detestable family, Lombardo had actually grown fond of Ryan.  Having lived
in poverty all his life he'd come to despise the wealthy and all they stood
for.  But with Ryan he found a pleasurable respite in his quest for revenge
and destruction.  The husky jock had blatantly seduced him from their first
introduction and was a real firecracker in bed.  Ryan grooved on his big
dick.  There was nothing the boy wouldn't try, so long as it wound up with
Lombardo's foot long up his tight jock ass.  And Lombardo had to admit
Ryan's was the best piece of ass he'd ever had.  He perversely enjoyed
trying to humiliate the boy by pushing some undesirables on him, like those
Mexican landscapers and his freshly released from prison black buddy.  But
it was as if Ryan trusted him, really trusted him, and got off making it
with those low-lifes just to please him.  Although he wouldn't admit it,
even to himself, Lombardo was really falling for the kid.  Which made the
teen's defiance of late all the more frustrating.

Lombardo feared he was losing his grip on the Baldwin family.  There was a
time when they were practically fighting each other for his macho body and
big hard cock, although not so much anymore.  All he could determine was
that they were both getting it somewhere else.  It was up to him to remind
them of everything he had to offer.  And everything he knew about them.  If
he were to flap his gums there'd be a scandal the likes of which this town,
even the state, had never seen.  The Baldwin's were a high profile family;
Delia was probably the richest broad around.  The activities of father and
all-star son, not to mention the deviant youngest child, were enough to
ruin them.  He didn't want to do that to Ryan, but if the boy continued to
spurn him he would force his hand.  Nobody got the best of Lombardo.

With a thoughtful expression on his ruggedly masculine face Lombardo cast
one more glance at the window, almost hoping a sex-hungry Ryan would appear
in it, then sauntered off to the comfort of the big house.