Date: Thu, 18 Feb 2016 08:43:10 +0000 (UTC) From: jhtravus@yahoo.com Subject: Horny Exchange Student Chapter 24 As long as you guys are still interested in reading, I'll keep writing. You've just got to let me know you're out there! Tell me the things you like, the things you don't like, the things you want to see, the things you don't want to see, or just keep it simple and let me know you're interested in reading more. Happy reading! jhtravus@yahoo.com Chapter 24 Football practice over the next week was absolutely brutal. After a particularly bad fumble on Brad's part Coach Jackson blew his whistle so loud it made everyone's head spin. "Williams! What the fuck was that catch? Unfuckingbelievable." He shook his head, angry. "What the fuck were you doing all break, sitting on your ass and eating donuts?" Brad clenched his fists, but before he did anything he would regret I was at his side, massaging his shoulders. "Keep your cool, brother." I told him. "He's gotta keep up appearances, you know? No special treatment." "I'm not mad, Ollie." He said under his breath. "You're not?" I asked, confused. "Fuck no. It's just whenever he gets tough like that it takes everything in me not to grab that fucking whistle around his neck, drag him into his office and fuck the shit out of him." "No shit?" I laughed. "Something tells me Coach Jackson wouldn't object to that." "Williams! Africa! Get off my fucking field if the two of you are going to sit there and chit-chat like a couple of fucking gal pals!" "Yes sir, Coach! Sorry sir." I called back to him, patting Brad on the shoulder. "Yes sir!" Brad called back to him, giving him a thumbs up as he got into position with the other guys. "Now that's more like it!" Coach Jackson yelled. "Now let me see that hustle!" - Later that night Mr. Williams had let Brad know he could invite Coach Jackson over to the house since Kate was going out of town for a few nights. "Now I'm just letting you know son, it's a school night so Dan can't stay over. You know the rules." "Well that's not fair, becau-" Brad began. "Life's not fair sometimes." Mr. Williams stopped him, putting his hand up. "But I guess I could extend the same rules for Ollie." "No late-night fuck sessions in his room, you mean?" I was about to protest, but I figured this was one of those situations where I should just keep my mouth shut. "If that's what it takes. I'm a pretty open-minded parent but school always comes first." "Nah, it's fine. I'm not going to keep Ollie from getting laid. I wouldn't do that to him." "Thanks brother." I said to him, speaking up. "We'll see." Mr. Williams winked at me. "Dan can come over for dinner. But he's gotta be out of here before 10:00. Got it?" "Got it." Brad nodded, a little disappointed. He looked over to me and whispered. "You know, my dad can be a real buzz kill sometimes." "I think it's really hot." I replied, honestly. "You do?" He laughed. "Big time." "Whatever, brother." He rolled his eyes. - Mr. Williams was just getting started with firing up the grill for some steaks when Coach Jackson walked through the front door. "We're out back, Dan!" Mr. Williams called out to him. "Thanks Mike. Africa. Williams." Coach Jackson nodded to all of us as he sat down on the couch in between Brad and me on the patio. It was a nice outdoor sitting area facing an outdoor tv that was right next to the grill. It was one of my favorite areas of the house. Other than working with Mr. Williams in his office I had had some of my most engaging conversations with him sitting right here watching him grill. It was where he was in his element. His most contentedness. He'd taught me how to grill a great tenderloin right here and I knew it was a special moment for him. "Looking sharp, Mike." Coach Jackson nodded to Mr. Williams, who had previously been at a social function with Kate before he took her to the airport. He looked so handsome in his suit and tie. In fact, I almost like him better in this than when he's wearing nothing at all. Almost. "Thanks Dan. I sure wish I'd changed into regular clothes before I fired up the grill." Mr. Williams laughed, pulling at his collar and tie uncomfortably. Brad and I had been watching the baseball game and it was just starting the 2nd quarter. "Aw, turn this shit off." Coach Jackson waved his massive paw dismissively at the screen. "I take it you're not a fan of baseball, Dan?" Mr. Williams laughed. "Fuck no. It's not a real man's sport. I stick to football." Brad turned his head back to Coach Jackson, clearly annoyed. "Would you shut the fuck up and just let me watch the game? Jesus." "Well excuse me. . . " Coach Jackson smirked, throwing his hands up, feigning retreat. We watched for a few minutes with Coach Jackson providing his cynical commentary every few seconds or so, much to the dismay of his athlete. I thought it was hilarious but I could tell it was definitely starting to get under Brad's skin. Coach Jackson was clearly getting off on making him angry. "Aw, come on, that guy's gotta be what, 90 lbs soaking wet? How the fuck do these guys call themselves athletes? Just flip it to ESPN, Williams. The Raiders are playing the Packers." "Fuck off, Coach. We're watching baseball." "You know, Williams, if I wanted to get that remote out of your hands there's nothing you could do to stop me." Coach Jackson grinned, flexing. "Coach, I swear, if you don't shut up. . ." Brad rolled his eyes. "Yeah? What are you gonna do about it, Williams?" Coach Jackson grinned, leaning over and kissing his athlete's neck. "I'll make sure you stop running your mouth, is what I'll do." Brad replied, leaning his head back to kiss him, playfully. "Mmmhmm. And just how do you plan on doing that, Williams?" "I have a few things I've tried before and they've all worked in the past." Brad said, thrusting his tongue in his mouth. "That reminds me, kid." Coach Jackson said, thrusting his tongue right back. "You've got a big game coming up this week. You know what that means." He licked around his lip, flirtatiously. "I'm not putting out for you until you win me that game." "Nnn mmm" Brad shook his head. "You don't call the shots anymore, Coach." He said, still making out with him. "I'm officially your boyfriend now. I wifed you up, Coach. You don't get to play hard to get anymore. If I want your ass you'll let me have it." "Oh, is that the way it works, kid?" Coach Jackson grinned, grabbing his athlete's arm and bringing it to his ass. "Now that I'm finally letting you call me your fucking boyfriend I'm just supposed to put out for you whenever you want it?" "Mmmhmmm." Brad nodded, sucking on his tongue playfully. "Any questions?" "Just one." Coach Jackson smirked. "Instead of making me sit through another hour of this bullshit 'sport' you like what do you say you take me up to your room and we just fuck instead?" "Now that's more like it, Coach." "Mike." Coach Jackson sat up, wiping his mouth. "The kid and I will be inside. Call us down when dinner's ready." "You got it Dan." Mr. Williams laughed, shaking his head. We watched as Brad led Coach Jackson inside by the arm. Mr. Williams looked down at his watch. "You know, you've had a long day, Ollie. I remember what it was like being your age. And it sounds like Coach Jackson really did a number on the team during practice today. You look like you could really relax for a bit." I sat up, intrigued with where he was going. "What did you have in mind, Mr. Williams?" I asked, with a grin. He set the tongs down at the grill and looked over his shoulder, playfully. "Don't tell anyone about this." He walked to the mini fridge and pulled out a cold beer, popped it open and set it in my hand. "I think you deserve to just sit back and relax with a nice cold beer while you get a world-class blowjob from the guy who loves you. What do you say to that, stud?" "I'd say that sounds like exactly what I need right now, Mr. Williams." I grinned, taking a big sip with a satisfied sigh. He leaned down to kiss me, lovingly as I fumbled with my jeans. "Nuh uh uh." He held his finger up, stopping me. "You just sit back and let me do all the work." I fucking love this man. I watched as the most handsome, intelligent, sensitive, kind man I've ever met looked me in the eye as he slowly got on his knees and started to unbuckle my jeans. After witnessing Brad and Coach Jackson's flirtation with one another just a second ago I was already boned up. Mr. Williams took my cock in his hands, gripping it, showcasing how big it was as he licked around the tip. "God, that's a nice cock." He muttered, working his tongue around the head. "A cock like this deserves to be worshipped every single day." "You've certainly made good on that." I smiled, moaning as he dug his tongue into the opening, collecting a bit of precum. "I can't help it, Ollie. I love this cock so much." He slowly sank himself down lower and lower until he had the majority of my cock down his throat. Man, to think how much he'd learned in such a few months. Mike Williams could suck cock like a pro. I put my hand on his head and gently ran my fingers through his hair, in complete ecstasy. I had a nice cold beer in one hand and the most handsome man on earth kneeling between my legs sucking me off, business suit and all. It couldn't get much better than this. He bobbed his head up and down on my cock, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body. He was going to suck it right out of me. I couldn't believe how fast he was going to get me to cum. I pressed down on his head, urging him to take more and more of my big black cock down his throat to finish me off, but at the last second he came back up. My cock was flaring and rock hard, waving around, desperate to get just the little push it needed to go over the edge. "I'm not finished yet." He said, looking up at me, lapping around the tip, coaxing out more precum from my over stimulated appendage. "I'm so close, Mr. Williams. . ." I moaned. "I know you are." He grinned, bobbing up and down on it slowly. He grabbed it by the base and teased it a little with his tongue. Just when I thought I couldn't take any more of it the timer he had set on the grill started going off. He looked up at me and fully impaled himself on my cock, my balls resting against his chin. "Fuck!!" I yelled clenching my fists; my toes curling. He nodded, pushing more of my cock down his throat. "I'm- I'm gonna!" I shouted. At the last second he came back up and started jacking me off with deep, hard strokes. Instantly I started shooting. Jet after jet of hot sperm came spraying out of me, drenching his face, his dress shirt, his tie, running down all over him. His handsome face was painted with cum as he eagerly licked at the head, collecting his prize. "Man oh man. . ." I gasped, trying to collect my breath. I reached down and wiped some of my cum away from his eyes and brought him up to kiss me. "What about you?" I asked, reaching down and groping the sizable erection tenting in his pants. "This was all about you, stud. I'll get mine later tonight." He winked, kissing me again. "That was unbelievable, Mr. Williams." I sighed. "You deserve it, Ollie." He smiled. I looked down at his dress shirt and tie which had been completely drenched. He laughed. "I always hated this tie anyway. The shirt should survive." He leaned in to kiss me again before hoisting himself up onto his feet and getting back to the grill, wiping his face with a towel before turning the steaks around. "You're not really going to go through dinner looking like that, are you?" I laughed. "Why not?" He shrugged, collecting some cum on his finger and bringing it to his mouth. "My man just got a great blow job. And I kind of want people to know it." - The Head of Athletics Department Coach Dan Jackson led Brad Williams upstairs to his athlete's bedroom, pushing him through the door, revved up and ready to go. Coach Jackson looked at the messy floor and unmade bed and crossed his arms. "Come on, Williams, you knew I was coming over. You couldn't be bothered to make your fucking bed before you brought me up here?" "Why bother, Coach?" Brad shrugged. "It's not like you're not going to put out for me just because I didn't make the bed before you got here." "And they say chivalry is dead. . ." Coach Jackson smirked. Brad Williams plopped down on the mattress and threw his shirt onto the floor. "Come here, Coach." "Come on, kid, I thought we came up here to fuck, not cuddle." Coach Jackson crossed his arms, sternly. "You'll get yours soon enough, Coach, don't worry. I just wanna make out a little." Brad said, opening up his arms. "You're lucky you're a good kisser, Williams." Coach Jackson sighed as he got down onto the mattress with his athlete and lowered himself down, bringing their lips together. "Mmmhmmm." Brad moaned as the two of them made out, reaching his hands out to cup Coach Jackson's meaty ass cheeks. Coach Jackson groaned as his athlete worked his ass over with his powerful grasp. Brad took his tongue away for a second. "Does it turn you on how much I'm always wanting in your pussy, Coach?" "Mmmhmm." Coach Jackson nodded, leaning forward so he could continue making out with him. "Never seen someone get so attached. Even when you're out there on the field I can tell it's all you're thinking about. Working me over like you are now. Making me hot to give it up for you." "You always do, Coach." "It's like you sniff me out, Williams. You're hungry for it and you won't let up until I give it to you. Fuck, you get me so hot, kid." "I know I do." Brad huffed in between thrusts of his tongue. "You're just as hot to put out for me as I am to make you." "You know what I was thinking, Williams?" Coach Jackson groaned. "Huh, Coach?" "How fucking hot it was being on top for a change. Back with your old man." This caught Brad off guard. But Coach Jackson went on. "You get off on seeing me in control like that, kid?" "Mmmhmm." Brad admitted, nodding his head. "Watching my big cock in action like that, working some poor manpussy over?" "Mmhmm." "Fuck, kid, you got me so hot right now." Coach Jackson groaned as they made out. "You ever think about what it would be like to let me fuck you?" Brad shook his head, denying him, working Coach Jackson's ass over with his hands. Coach Jackson almost whimpered. "Aw, kid. Come on." The giant man begged. He moved his massive, powerful hands down his athlete's torso and down to his bubble butt. "I want in this ass so fucking bad, Williams." "It's not gonna happen, Coach." Brad replied, thrusting his tongue into the man's mouth. His own hands were pulling the giant man's ass cheeks apart, possessively. "Why would I switch things up when I've got as much pussy as I want right here?" "Fuck, kid. . ." Coach Jackson huffed, frustrated, pounding his fists into the mattress. "I want your ass so fucking bad." "That's not how it works, Coach." Coach Jackson was so rock hard that the slutty little wind-shorts he was wearing were starting to dig into his skin around his waist. "You know, kid, I could take the pussy away if I wanted to." He smirked, kissing him hotly. "You'll be back, Coach." Brad replied, biting his lip playfully. "I mean it, kid. If you want me to keep putting out for you you're gonna have to earn it." Brad leaned back and considered what his superior had said. "You're really considering this, aren't you coach?" Coach Jackson met his gaze and held his ground. "I mean it, kid. No more pussy until you give it up." Brad held his cool. He looked down to Coach Jackson's torso area, his massive muscles on display, the huge tent in his wind-shorts essentially pulsing with his heartbeat, a small damp spot where the head would be. "You're on, Coach." Coach Jackson was taken aback. His athlete had called his bluff. "I'm serious, Williams. Just give it up and you can have it anytime you want." He snapped his slutty wind-shorts on his ass for effect. "I'll keep that in mind, Coach." Brad smirked. "You look like you've got quite the issue there." He nodded to Coach Jackson's obscene, leaking erection. "I'm so fucking close, kid." Coach Jackson huffed. "We can still make-out if you want." Brad leaned over and brought his tongue to his coach's mouth, giving him a slow, passionate kiss. "That's okay, Coach. I'll respect your position." And with that, Brad Williams got off the mattress and started to put on his shirt. Coach Jackson watched him, frustrated, but unwilling to admit defeat. "So what, kid, you're just gonna leave me here with blue balls?" "Hey, the ball's in your court, Coach." Brad replied, shrugging. "I'm just respecting what you said." Coach Jackson got off the bed and walked over toward his athlete. "Then game on, Williams." He muttered, leaning down to kiss him, pulling on his athlete's lip for good measure. "You just remember." He moved his athlete's hand so it was resting on his muscle butt. "It's all yours as soon as you say the word." "I'll keep that in mind, Coach. Shall we?" Brad gestured to the door. "I'm sure as hell not caving first." Coach Jackson smirked, crossing his arms. "Yeah. . ." Brad muttered, looking his hulking superior straight in the eye. "We'll see about that, Coach." - "Well that was fast." I said as Brad and Coach Jackson opened the patio door and sat down on the couch next to me as Mr. Williams was tending to the steaks. "Which one of you busted too soon?" "We didn't fuck." Coach Jackson announced, crossing his arms and sulking. "Yeah, change of plans." Brad said, staring down at his feet. "Well that's a new one." I laughed, sensing some sort of tension between the two of them. It wasn't necessarily negative or combative tension, like a fight. It was adversarial. It was competitive. "I have to say, brother, it's not like you to not follow up on the job." I said to Brad. "We've got it under control, Africa." Coach Jackson mumbled, staring Brad down. "The kid knows what he needs to do." "Care to elaborate on that, Coach?" I pressed, trying to gauge their reactions. "Sorry, Africa. This is between Williams and me." Brad looked at him contemplatively, almost like he was sizing him up in his head. I couldn't imagine what had gone on in his bedroom just moments ago but I was intrigued. It was obvious they weren't fighting. But something was definitely going on between the two of them. I did know one thing, though. Whatever it was, it really was between the two of them. - Over the next few days I definitely noticed a difference with Brad and I couldn't quite put my finger on what exactly it was until it all of the sudden clicked. I couldn't believe it had taken me this long to figure it out. Brad Williams wasn't getting laid. I knew the signs. His snappy temper. The pent-up aggression. It had been five days since the cook-out on the patio and with each passing day the signs were getting more and more noticeable. He was in my room while I was studying and he was just tapping his foot on the floor as he stared at the wall. I looked at him and just sighed, putting my textbook down. "Alright, cut the bullshit, man. Just tell me what's going on." "It's nothing, Ollie." He replied hotly. "Is something going on between you and Coach Jackson? Did you guys have a fight or something?" "No, we didn't fight or anything. It's not like that." "Then what's going on? You guys haven't had sex in like five days." He sort of blushed. "Is it that obvious?" He laughed. "Pretty much, yeah. I know you, brother. When you're not getting any it's pretty easy to tell." "I didn't know it was that obvious." "Yeah, well it is. So tell me. What's going on with you two?" "You really want to know, Ollie?" "Tell me." "Coach Jackson suddenly decided to grow a pair all of the sudden." "Meaning what?" I asked. "Meaning he said he's not going to put out for me until I let him fuck me." I had to admit, I had gone through a lot of different scenarios in my head, but nothing like this. "I see. . ." I said, trying to sound understanding. "So basically it's been a stand-off between you two? Coach Jackson's waiting for you to finally let him fuck you and you're waiting for him to cave?" "Pretty much." "Okay, I have to ask. . . " "No." Brad interrupted me. "No?" "No." He crossed his arms. "I don't get fucked." "Brad, if you're scared I totally-" "I'm not scared, Ollie." "Well then what's the big deal? Coach Jackson lets you fuck him all the time. All he wants is you to let him fuck you just this once. That's it." "Have. . ." He started, trying to find the right words to say. "Have you ever let my dad. . . you know. . ." "No. Not yet." I replied, thinking about it. "It's different though. He's never wanted to." "Not once? All this time you two have been together and he's never tried?" "No. I would, though. For him." I answered, honestly. "Have you ever done it before?" "Once." I replied. "It was with a guy I went to school with back in Africa." "What was it like?" I sighed for a second, unsure of how I should answer his question. I didn't want to scare him off. "It wasn't a good experience for me." I saw the look on his face fall and I quickly recovered. "But that's just because of the guy I was with. I'm in love with your dad. I would trust him. I'd like to give that to him. Someday." Brad looked deep in thought, but I could tell he was having a tough time dealing with it. "I don't think I could do it, brother." "Sure you could, man. You're Brad Williams. You're the toughest guy I know. Are you worried because Coach has such a big cock?" "No." He answered, seemingly honestly. "I like that he's got a big cock. I get off on it." "So then what's the big deal?" "Just. . . giving up control like that. I just couldn't do it. Especially the way he's going about it right now. Making it a challenge to see who gives in first? Coach should know me better than that. I don't lose." "Yeah, I know what you mean." I sighed. "Fuck, I'm so boned up, though. I've gotten so used to having all the pussy I want and then he just cuts me off like that. Cold turkey." He said under his breath, frustrated. "Have you thought about getting it somewhere else? I know Brad Williams has his ways." I laughed. "No." He answered succinctly. "This is a test. For the both of us. I just need to wait it out. Coach Jackson's wanting it just as bad as I do right now. Trust me, brother. He'll come crawling back in no time begging me to fuck him." He leaned back, relaxing with his arms behind his head. "Just wait. I've got this." "I gotta say, man, I can't wait to see if you're right." "Trust me, brother. I've got this all under control." He muttered, a grin flashing across his face. The Brad Williams I knew was definitely coming back, alright. - During practice the next day it seemed like Coach Jackson was doing his best to single Brad out as much as he could. "Williams! How the fuck do you expect Connors to throw you a pass if you're not even on the right side of the fucking field!" Coach Jackson bellowed, his whistle right behind. "Got it, Coach!" Brad would always reply. And he really did get it. Say what you will about the guy when he's sexually frustrated, he really brings his A game. After about an hour Coach Jackson just seemed to be grasping at straws, trying to find things to call out about his athlete, despite the fact he was playing like a pro. "Williams! How about you give another one of your teammates a chance with the fucking ball! Jesus, kid, it's not all about you, you know!" "Yes sir." Brad called back at him, getting into position for another drill. I looked over at Coach Jackson and the sexual frustration in his demeanor was evident. Brad was right. Coach Jackson was wanting it just as much as he was. This little stand-of between the two of them wasn't going to last long. When Coach Jackson finally called us in at the end of practice everyone was exhausted. Justin Rogers, one of the linemen on the team sighed as he stepped into the showers with the rest of us. "Fuck man, what was with Coach today? I mean he's been riding us hard lately, but today was just brutal." "Dude, that fucking whistle of his. I just wanted to snap that thing off his fucking neck and smash it into the ground." Another guy laughed, lathering himself up. I looked over at Brad who didn't say anything. He was just staring at the tile along the wall as he rinsed off. After we were done showering I was tying my shoes when Coach Jackson stepped out of his office and crossed his arms, looking at Brad sternly. I nudged him in the side and nodded in Coach Jackson's direction. "Looks like someone might be getting lucky after all." Brad locked eyes with Coach Jackson and I swear his dick jumped in his briefs. "Yeah, I've seen that look before. He wants it." "I'll get a ride from one of the guys." I told him, patting him on the shoulder. "Good luck, brother. I really want this for you." "Thanks brother." He replied. "I'll see you back at home." - Brad waited as the rest of the guys slowly filtered out of the locker room, eager to get home after a particularly brutal practice. "Later dude." One of the guys called out to Brad as the last of them left. "Yeah, see you, Kowalski." Brad replied. Brad turned his attention back to Coach Jackson, who was still leaning against the door of his office, arms crossed, staring him down intensely. Brad threw on his shirt and casually made his way over to him, stopping right under his hulking frame. The two of them said nothing, sizing each other up. There was intensity in their eyes, the sexual energy between them pulsating with each breath. Without a word the two of them locked lips, Coach Jackson leaning his head down to welcome his athlete's charging tongue into his mouth. The two of them made out furiously, each of them reaching around the other's waist to cop a feel at the other's meaty ass. "Mmmmm. . ." Coach Jackson groaned, grinding his rock hard, prick against his athlete's, shielded by the fabric between them. Brad pulled at his superior's lip with his teeth, extremely turned on. Coach Jackson started to thrust his hips back and forth, slamming into his athlete powerfully, grinding their dicks against one another. "Just say the word, Williams. . ." Coach Jackson huffed, running his tongue along his athlete's lips. "No deal, Coach." Brad muttered, spreading Coach Jackson's meaty ass cheeks within his slutty wind-shorts. "I'm not budging." "Fuck, kid. . ." Coach Jackson groaned, frustrated. "Just give it up. I want your ass so fucking bad." "It's not gonna happen, Coach." Brad replied, kissing him hotly. "Just let it go. I know you need to get off. Just say the word and I'll fuck you. Right here. Right now. I know you've been wanting it." "FUCK!" Coach Jackson shouted, slamming his fist against the lockers, echoing around the deserted locker room. "I know you want it, Coach." Coach Jackson was grinding their charged pricks against one another, the fabric between them completely soaked with precum from the two of them. Days and days of sexual aggression coming out in full force. "Come on, Williams. Just let me have it. Just this once." He whimpered, sliding his tongue into his athlete's mouth. "Sorry, Coach. No deal." Brad replied, feeling as Coach Jackson's thrusts became more urgent. This hulking authority figure was about to cream his shorts just pretending he was getting a shot at Brad Williams's ass. Coach Jackson's grip on his athlete's ass was getting more and more desperate as the giant man continued to thrust his hips forward, rubbing their dicks together between their clothes, so aching to get off after going so long without. Brad could hear Coach Jackson's breathing start to quicken. His tongue was forcing its way through his mouth as he was going for his nut. And just when he knew his hulking superior was about to send himself over the edge, Brad stepped away from him, wiping his face. Coach Jackson opened his eyes, so close to the edge. Brad just stared him down. "GAAAAH!!!" Coach Jackson bellowed, pounding his fist into the lockers again, making them rattle all across the empty locker room. Brad Williams had heard this man utter a noise like this many times before, but there was no mistaking it. He wasn't announcing his pending orgasm this time. Instead he was voicing his frustration at having it taken away from him at the very last second. Coach Jackson stood there, breathing in and out, furious. He couldn't even put his frustrations into words at this point. And without another word, Brad Williams turned away and started walking out of the locker room. Release for the both of them would have to wait another day.