Date: Sat, 10 Sep 2016 07:16:07 +0000 (UTC)
From: jhtravus <jhtravus@yahoo.com>
Subject: Horny Exchange Student Chapter 41

By 8:30 am the next morning Brad and I were on the road, all of our stuff
packed tightly in the car. We started off the six-hour trip quiet, feeling
anxious and a little homesick already but before too long we started
talking about how awesome college was going to be and got ourselves pumped
up. The fact that Brad and I were going to the same school was just
amazing. I couldn't be more grateful that he'd be going through this with
me. I was really lucky.

	The two of us switched off driving for the six hours until we
finally got to campus. Unfortunately it was the hottest part of the day,
but we immediately got to work moving into our dorm.

	Brad left to go get our keys and check us in while I started
getting boxes out of the car and setting them down to be carried.

	After about 10 minutes I took a break to cool down when I saw Brad
heading back toward the car. And with Drew right beside him!

	"Need help with that?" Drew grinned, giving me a big hug as he
looked me over.

	"How did you two-" I began, wondering how they had met each other
already.

	"Looks like we have an in with the RA, thanks to you, brother."
Brad laughed.

	"You're kidding. . ." I said, turning to Drew.

	"It's true, actually. When this guy came to get his keys he
mentioned your name and I couldn't believe it. I always knew I'd be the RA
for the athletics dorm this year but I didn't make the connection that
you'd be in it because of your host-brother." He paused for a second. "I
promise I'm not stalking you!"

	At this point Brad stepped in, giving Drew a proper
look-over. "Man, Ollie, you said you wanted to fuck the librarian, you
never mentioned he was hot!"

	I was expecting Drew to blush but instead he just crossed his arms
and looked Brad over at the same time. It was like two dogs sniffing each
other for the first time. "Yeah, Ollie mentioned his host-brother was a
football player but he didn't mention he was hot either."

	"Alright you two, settle down." I laughed, shoving boxes in each of
their arms. "We have work to do. Are you sure you don't have to get back to
the office and check people in, Drew?"

	"Nah, I got someone to cover me. I'm happy to help." He replied,
stacking another few boxes on top of the one I had handed him and easily
walking toward our building, balancing them with ease. He turned with a
wink. "See, moving books for a living comes in handy sometimes!"

	"I like this guy. . ." Brad said to me as we followed him. "And I
haven't even seen what he's like in the sack yet."

	"Are you ever not thinking about getting laid?" I laughed, shaking
my head.

	"Uhh, Brad Williams." He deadpanned, sticking his hand out for me
to shake. "Have we met?"

	"Sorry I asked." I shrugged, following him as we made our way into
the building.

						-

	Through all the chaos of unpacking and getting everything set up,
along with the influx of other freshmen needing to get checked-in, there
was no funny business to be had. Over the next few days Brad and I got our
dorm room situated and functioning. It certainly wasn't what we were used
to at home, but we made it work. Everything was positioned around the tv
and video game systems, but that wouldn't surprise anyone.

	At 1:30 Monday afternoon, Brad Williams arrived at the stadium
where he'd be meeting the team and starting his first practice of his
college football career. He felt a little nervous, as he was the only
freshman on the team, but he knew he would be able to prove himself. No
longer the hot-shot quarterback anymore, he would have to work his way
up. He kind of liked being able to start over.

	Most of the other guys were sitting in the bleachers talking
amongst themselves, but they made sure to greet him warmly when he sat down
with them.

	As Coach Driver gave his introduction and talked about what they'd
be doing for the next year, he made extra effort to not let his eyes linger
on Brad Williams for too long. He was a professional at heart, and just
because they'd had some fun together with Coach Jackson and really let
loose, it didn't mean he wasn't going to treat him like anyone else on the
team.

	During practice they went over various drills and plays and it
actually took some getting used to not being the quarterback anymore. He
performed well enough, but it was strange not being the center of
attention.

	After catching a particularly hard pass and noticing he was open,
he decided to go for it and rather than throw it to one of the open players
on his team like most were expecting, he decided to tuck it under his arm
and sprint to the touchdown line.

	He wanted to show them that just because he was a freshman, he
could still compete with the best of them. That he'd be able to keep
up. That he'd-

	SMACK!

	The wind was knocked out of him as he was tackled just behind the
touchdown line. He stared up at his aggressor and saw that it was John
Carpenter, the quarterback on the team. The guy gave him a cocky smirk as
the ball rolled out onto the grass before picking it up and running it the
short distance to the touchdown line. Brad clenched his fists in anger,
feeling like he'd been embarrassed in front of the whole team.

	Coach Driver blew his whistle furiously. "What the hell was that?
You two aren't even on offense!"

	"Sorry sir." John replied, getting back into position. "I just
didn't expect to be able to catch up with him so easily."

	Brad picked himself up and wiped the grass off of his knees
angrily. He didn't like this guy's attitude.

	"Brad." Coach Driver said. "We know what you've got. Otherwise you
wouldn't be on the team. No more showing off, got it?"

	"Yes sir." Brad nodded, feeling humiliated.

	If his intent was impressing the team and letting them know he was
a good asset, he hadn't succeeded. It seemed he really was going to have to
work his way from the ground up. And perhaps not as quickly as he had
anticipated.

					-

	As the team headed into the showers to cool off after practice was
over, most of the guys introduced themselves to Brad and tried their best
to make him feel welcome.

	Everyone except John Carpenter, that is. Brad watched as the 6'5
quarterback let the water run over his head with his back turned to
them. The guy was built, no doubt. He looked like what would happen if
Coach Jackson and Coach Driver somehow had a kid together. Hard, masculine
body, well-defined muscles. A perect, concrete ass with dimples as he
flexed. As much as Brad hated to admit it, the guy was good-looking on top
of it all. He had dark brown, almost black hair, and the perfect 5 o'clock
shadow to go with it. His green eyes were so vibrant, they almost glowed.

	Brad tried to make his obvious stares not so obvious, and patiently
waited for the guy turn around so he could get a good look at what he was
working with. If the guy was hung on top of it, that would be the last
straw. Sadly, the moment never came, as after Carpenter had finished
washing up, he grabbed a towel off the wall and wrapped it around his waist
before turning around again.

	As John made his way out of the showers, his eyes met Brad's for
longer than was normal. If seemed like each was waiting for the other to
break first. Almost like it would be a sign of submission. But instead they
held their gaze until he walked past him.
					-

	When Brad left for practice Friday afternoon I decided to go over
to Drew's room and see what he was up to. I knocked twice and just as I
started to figure he was out or something the door opened.

	He looked surprised to see me but smiled. I could tell he was
exhausted.

	"Sorry man, when I'm studying I really get in the zone and
sometimes I don't hear the door."

	"That's okay, I didn't know you were studying, so I'll just catch
you later." I replied, turning to leave.

	"Psh, don't be silly Ollie." He smiled, catching me and opening the
door for me. "I could use the break."

	"What are you studying for anyway? Classes don't start for another
couple weeks." I asked him as I sat down on the sofa.

	"Life of a graduate student. . ." He laughed. "It never stops."

	I reached for the remote and aimed at the tv, figuring we were just
going to watch tv like we usually did, but he grabbed it out of my hand and
set it back down on the coffee table. He locked eyes with me and I knew
that look from anywhere.

	"It's about time. . ." I muttered, moving on top of him to start
making out with him.

	As his reply he thrust his tongue into my mouth and wrapped his
hands around my back, pulling me into him.

	Man, I'd forgotten just how good of a kisser he was. Not too
aggressive, but bold enough to let me know he wanted me.

	I dug my hands under his waist into the sofa and grabbed his ass as
he ran his tongue along my teeth.

	The way his scruff brushed against my cheek was intoxicating. It
reminded me of the way Mr. Williams used to feel against me when we'd spend
the whole weekend in bed and I didn't let him shave. It was one of the many
ways Drew reminded me of him. It didn't make me sad. More comforted. It was
a nice feeling.

	I moaned into him as I felt him up, moving my hands up from his ass
under his shirt, feeling his lean muscles.

	His swimmer's build was ticking all of the right boxes for me, and
after I'd spent enough time on his abs I began to work my way up his chest
to his pecs.

	"Mmmmm. . ." He groaned into me, breathing in suddenly.

	"Does that feel good?" I grinned, massaging him with my warm hands.

	"Yeah, it's just I- uh. . ." He began. "I'm kind of sensitive when
it comes to my nipples."

	I pulled back, intrigued. "Really?"

	"Yeah, it's kind of crazy actually." He blushed, shivering a
little. "Fuck, even thinking about you playing with them is already getting
me going. I can't help it. I've been like that forever."

	I slowly brought my hand to his right nipple and gently grazed it.

	"N-nnn!" He started, breathing in instinctually. "I'm serious, man,
you have to be careful."

	I felt like a kid in a candy store. I was so turned on by this
guy's body and clearly getting the opportunity to feel him up was good for
him too.

	I slowly began to circle around it, teasing it ever so gently with
my finger.

	"Ollie, cut it out, I'm serious." He winced, breathing in heavily.

	"Do you really want me to stop?" I grinned, having fun with this.

	"I mean. . ." He struggled under my touch. "I've just never been
with anyone who was into it."

	"Drew, look at me." I muttered, looking him right into the
eye. "I'm really into it."

	"Really?" He asked, completely genuinely.

	"Big time." I nodded, starting to flick it with my finger.

	"Shit!" He jerked, involuntarily.

	I couldn't help but laugh. "You're not joking about this, are you?"

	"I'm completely serious." He cautioned me, telling me to slow
down. "Its- FUCK!" He yelled as I pinched it. "I swear they're wired to my
dick or something."

	I looked down and he was right. His dick was jutting out along his
leg and there was already a big wet spot where his precum was soaking
through his jeans.

	"Dude, you've gotta stop that. Seriously." He begged, throwing his
head back.

	I relented and moved my hands back down to his ass and started
kissing him again. He moaned into me, relieved that I was giving him a
break.

	I cupped his ass in my hands as I tongued him. "This is what I've
really been after."

	"Oh yeah?"

	"Yeah."

	"I figured you'd be after that sooner or later." I laughed, pulling
at my lip playfully.

	"Are you going to be able to take me?" I asked, kissing down his
neck.

	"I better be."


						-
	"Easy. . . easy!" Drew cautioned me as I gave him another inch of
big, black cock, giving him time to adjust to my size.

	I leaned down and kissed him gently as I massaged his shoulders.

	"Man oh man." He exhaled. "You're definitely not the starter size,
are you?"

	"Just take your time." I nodded, holding still. "You said you'd
been fucked before, haven't you?"

	"Yeah, but not anything your size." He winced, closing his eyes.

	"I don't want to hurt you, Drew."

	"Don't you dare pull out, Ollie." He laughed, easing up a
little. "I want this just as much as you do, trust me."

	I continued to massage him some more and make him feel at ease and
slowly eased in another inch or so. He didn't seem to notice. I took that
as a good sign.

	"Mmmm. . ." He moaned, throwing his head back. "That feels really
good, man."

	At that moment I officially bottomed out inside of him, my balls
resting against his skin. He looked up, amazed.

	"You're a sneaky little fucker aren't you, Ollie?" He grinned.

	"Let's just say I've had a lot of practice."

	He reached his hand my behind my head and pulled me down to kiss
him. I took this as a sign to start going.

	I let his laps at my tongue with his own dictate my pace. He really
started getting into it, moaning under me as I fucked into him.

	I reached down and played with his cock, which had started filling
up as he gave in to the pleasure.

	"Oh god, Ollie. . ." He moaned, kissing me. "This feels so fucking
good. . ."

	I started fucking him faster, really railing into him now, and he
took every inch of me happily.

	"Worth the wait?" I grinned.

	"Definitely worth the wait."

	I squeezed his cock tighter in my hands and really got off on being
in control of every sensation running through his body right now. And from
the look on his face, he was enjoying every single second of it.

	I started feeling my load start to boil up, and immediately pulled
out of him.

	At that same moment he pushed my hand off of his cock.

	"You had me way too close." He cautioned me.

	"On your knees then, stud."

	He nodded as I pulled him up and he positioned himself in front of
me, his perfect ass offered right to me.

	I eased back into him gently but he took me with no issue. He
groaned as I bottomed out, leaning his head back and kissing me as I
resumed my pace.

	I wrapped my hands around his waist as I railed into him, really
getting off in his tight, warm, velvety tunnel.

	His breathing heightened and I found myself matching him,
increasing my pace.

	"Oh fuck, Ollie. . ." He groaned, kissing me. "Oh my god, right
there."

	"So tight. . ." I mumbled into his ear.

	"That feels so fucking good, Ollie. . ."

	I felt as he started to jack himself off, his rock-hard cock flared
and pulsing.

	I fucked him faster and faster, getting lost in the pleasure until
I felt myself starting to reach the edge.

	I pushed his hand away from his dick and started jacking him off
hard as I fucked him. His moans grew louder and louder as his orgasm
approached. And then right before I knew he was going to blow, I brought my
other hand to his chest and rubbed his nipple, honing in on it.

	"OH FUCK!!!" He yelled, jerking his body against mine. "FUCK!!!"

	He immediately started shooting all over my hand the second I
started to unload inside of him. My pressure on his nipple was unrelenting;
nonstop. He squirmed around as I shot inside of him, with his own load
completely coating my hand and running down my arm and onto the couch below
us.

	His hole was constricting so tightly around my cock, sending me
into overdrive.

	The second I thought he had had enough, I removed my hand from his
body while slowing down my efforts on his cock. His hands were behind him,
grabbing my waist as he let the pleasure ride over him, completely at my
mercy.

	When I had finally stopped unloading inside of him, I brought his
face to mine and kissed him gently. His cock still throbbed in my hand as
our tongues intertwined with each other.

	As we both came down from our orgasms, we had to catch our breath.

	"Fuck, Ollie. . ." He panted, wiping his brow with a euphoric look
on his face. "That was. . . that was just. . . unreal."

	We looked down at the pool of cum soaking into his sofa.

	I grabbed my shirt from the floor and soaked it up as best I could,
but there was still a big damp spot where it had been.

	"You're going to owe me a new couch by the end of the school year,
aren't you?" He laughed, kissing me.

	"I hope this thing is absolutely ruined by the time the year is
over." I grinned, massaging his shoulders.

						-

	Over their next few practices, Brad's standing with the rest of the
team seemed to improve more and more. He really started to like all of the
other guys and started to fall back into his old self and get more relaxed
around everyone. Everyone except John Carpenter, that is.

	When they spoke it was stiff and impersonal. Something about the
guy just wasn't letting him in. He just didn't get it. John seemed to get
along great with the other guys. But for some reason, the two of them just
didn't click.

	As the team was washing up in the showers, Brad again tried to not
look like he was staring as he watched John washing himself off. He always
stood under the far left showerhead, turned away. The other guys didn't
seem to think it was unusual and the second he was finished, he would wrap
his towel around his waist and high five some of the other guys on the team
as he made his way back to the lockers.

	On Friday afternoon, however, Carpenter's shoulder knocked into
Brad on his way out. Not enough to knock him off balance, but enough to
where each of them felt it. When the guy kept on walking, Brad stopped him.

	"Dude, what's your problem with me, man?" He asked, point-blank,
staring him down.

	Carpenter turned back to him and looked right at him. The other
guys around them didn't seem to notice and continued talking with each
other as they washed up.

	Brad waited for a response. "I swear, you've had a problem with me
from the moment I got here."

	John leaned in close, heated. "Look man, I know what you're up
to. You want to take my place, alright? Driver's told me about you."

	"What are you talking about? Take your place? I don't care about
being the quarterback." Brad lied, crossing his arms.

	"Just so we're clear, then." John said to him so that no one else
could hear them. "Driver says I'm the quarterback. Not you. He's had plenty
of other quarterbacks before but I'm the quarterback." He kept putting
extra emphasis on the word "quarterback". Like Brad was supposed to think
about it. Before he could ask anything more, Carpenter continued. "Look,
you and I aren't going to have a problem unless you make this a problem,
alright?"

	Brad stood his ground. "You're really worried, aren't you?"

	"Worried about what, dude?"

	"That Driver's going to want to make me quarterback. You said
yourself he told you about me. That must make you feel pretty threatened,
huh?"

	The guy looked like he was about to get angry for a second, but he
didn't lose his cool. "Are you trying to intimidate me, man?"

	"Nah." Brad shook his head. "I don't have time to measure dicks
with you, Carpenter."

	The 6'5 adonis turned blood red. It caught Brad off guard, even.

	"Look man, I don't want to do this with you, alright?" Brad said,
trying to diffuse the situation. "I'm not after your position. We're not
going to be buds, but hopefully we can put this past us while we're on the
field."

	"Fine." John replied, sternly.

	"Fine." Brad replied, equally stiff.

	He moved past him as Brad went back to rinsing off. As Brad ran his
head under the warm water, he kept replaying the conversation back in his
head, trying to think of why they clashed heads so easily. He watched as
Carpenter disappeared around the corner toward the lockers and couldn't
help but feel like there was unfinished business between the two of them.


					-


	After getting back to his dorm room, home from a particularly
grueling day of football practice with the new team, Brad Williams
collapsed on his bed, taking his phone out of his pocket and pulling up his
contacts.

	He waited until the low, gravely voice of Dan Jackson picked
up. "Williams, I thought I told you to call me at 4:15? It's 4:47."

	"Well hello to you too, Coach." Brad laughed.

	"Ah shit, sorry." The man mumbled on the other line. "It just
pisses me off when someone says they'll be somewhere at a certain time and
then they're late you know? I expect people to be on time."

	"Oh really?" Brad said sarcastically. "Never would have guessed
that about you, Coach."

	"Yeah yeah. . ."

	"Don't worry about it, Coach." Brad grinned. "I kind of miss you
getting pissed at me all the time."

	"Yeah, well I can't really say the same, kid." Coach Jackson
laughed.

	"Aw, come on, Coach, there's not a little, tiny part of you that
misses me getting under your skin? I mean it's so easy to set you off. . ."

	"Alright fine, Williams, maybe there's a tiny fucking part of me
that misses you pissing me off. . ."

	"There we go." Brad grinned.

	"Yeah, well don't push your luck, kid, because it's a lot fucking
easier to stay mad at you when you don't have that jock cock clouding my
judgment. It's like your fucking get out of jail free card."

	"Works every time." Brad smirked.

	"Cocksure son of a bitch. . ." Coach Jackson muttered, rolling his
eyes with a smile.

	The two of them exhaled at the same time, thinking fondly of each
other. They wanted to tell each other just how much they missed each other
but decided to leave it unsaid.

Coach Jackson cleared his throat. "So tell me about your week. What have
you been doing to make sure you're staying out of trouble?"

	"Do you seriously want to hear about my week, Coach? The boring
routine and everything?" Brad laughed.

	"Well no. . . I just thought it was something boyfriends do. If you
wanted to tell me about your week then I'd listen. . . I guess."

	"Wow, what a generous offer. Can't wait to take you up on that."

	"Look Williams, I don't know how this long-distance shit goes,
okay? I may not know what's going on every fucking second of your life but
I love you. What's important to you is important to me, alright? If
something's going on down there that you think is stupid or boring but you
still want to tell me about it then tell me about it. That's what I'm here
for. If it turns out to be boring or fucking stupid then I'll tell you it's
boring or fucking stupid."

	"Alright, Coach." Brad sighed. "I'm pretty sure I'm already failing
Calculus and the class hasn't even started yet." He laughed.

	"Uh huh. . ." Coach muttered into the phone absentmindedly. "You
uh. . . you fucked anyone yet?"

	"Jesus, that took what, 45 seconds for you to already want to know
who I've been fucking?" Brad laughed.

	"Ah, sorry, kid. It's just all I can think about."

	"You think about me fucking someone?"

	"Of course."

	"Does it make you jealous or does it turn you on, Coach?"

	"Oh it fuckin' turns me on like you wouldn't believe, kid." Coach
Jackson replied. "Maybe a little jealous." He paused for a moment. "Or a
lot jealous. But it still turns me on thinking about you getting all cocky
and getting some guy to give it up for you. Slowly but surely making the
rounds down there and taking down the tough guys one by one."

	"You've given this a lot of thought, Coach."

	"Fuck yeah, I have. You- uh. . . you still haven't answered my
question."

	"Coach, we agreed we could fuck other people."

	"Yeah, I know. . ." Coach Jackson replied, trying not to sound so
interested. "But that doesn't mean you can't tell me about it."

	"Well, to answer your question. . . no."

	"Bullshit, Williams." Coach Jackson scoffed, not believing him for
one second.

	"Would I lie to you, Coach?"

	"Come on, kid. A guy as pretty to look at as you must have people
lining up to give it up for him."

	"I'm serious, Coach. I don't know, I just haven't really put a lot
of effort into it yet."

	"You know, that fuckin' pisses me off."

	"Coach, I'm not lying to you!" Brad replied, defensive.

	"Not you, it pisses me off that no one down there is putting out
for you. A guy like you should never have to jack off. A guy like you
should have guys begging him to be the one he chooses to give his load to."

	"Oh come on, Coach. . ."

	"No, I'm fuckin' serious, Williams. That really pisses me off. A
guy like you should be getting laid around the fucking clock. It's really
making me mad that I can't be there to be the one putting out for you."

	"Are you really getting riled up about this?" Brad laughed.

	"Of course I am." Coach Jackson replied hotly. "Fuck if I was there
in that dorm room of yours right now. . ."

	"Yeah Coach? What would you do?"

	"Fuck Williams, you don't even want to know the things I would do
to you. . ."

	"Yeah I do. Tell me, Coach." Brad replied, leaning back on his
pillow.

	"Christ. . ." Coach Jackson muttered into the phone, deep in
thought. "I swear my cunt's throbbing just thinking about it."

	"Tell me, Coach."

	"What, that I want you to fuck me?"

	"No. Tell me exactly what you would do to me if you were here in
this room."

	"Well we'd be fucking. A lot."

	"Not yet we wouldn't. You just walked through the door and you
haven't seen me in a while."

	"Uh huh. . ." Coach Jackson replied, beginning to understand where
he was going with this. "Well first I would suck your fucking cock."

	"You have to open up my pants first."

	"Okay. . . Well first you'd jump up to run over and kiss me when I
walked through that door after not seeing me for so long."

	"Uh huh." Brad nodded.

	"But that's not how this is gonna go."

	"It's not?"

	"Fuck no. If I haven't seen you I'm going for that jock cock
first. We can make out later."

	"But what if I want to make out with you a little first, Coach?"
Brad asked, running his hand over his crotch through his pants. "You know
how much I love making out with you a little before I fuck you."

	"Well that's just tough shit for you kid, because I've got about
100 pounds of muscle on you and if I want to get down on my fucking knees
and suck that jock cock of yours then that's exactly what I'll fucking do
and you'll just have to deal with it."

	"Okay Coach." Brad replied, letting him have this one. "Then what."

	"I'm going to throw you down on that shitty dorm mattress of yours
and pull your pants down."

	"No, you're going to get on your knees and I'm going to feed you my
cock while stuffing your throat standing over you."

	"Nuh uh." Coach Jackson shook his head. "I'm throwing you down on
that mattress, I'm pulling your pants down, and I'm going to suck on that
jock cock while you play with my cunt getting it ready for you and then-"

	"That's not how this goes, Coach, I want to hold your head and fuck
your throat first and-"

	"Don't fucking interrupt me, Williams." Coach Jackson fired
back. He waited to make sure his athlete had gotten the message. "You're
gonna sit back and relax and I'm gonna put my face between your legs and
suck on that jock cock. Treat it right. I'm doing all the fucking work, you
understand me?"

	Brad slowly unzipped his pants and absentmindedly started to stroke
his cock. "Tell me how you're going to do it, Coach."

	"Well, actually I'd start with your jock hole first. Give you the
kickass rimjob you're always hounding me for."

	"Okay, Coach. Go for it." He brought his finger to his lips and
moistened it, before reaching down and running it over his hole.

	"Aw fuck, Williams, I want it bad. That tight, perfect jock hole."

	"You gonna treat it right, Coach?"

	"Oh yeah, kid. Gonna treat it real nice and make you feel good."

	"Go on then, Coach. Start teasing it with your tongue. You know how
I like you to lick my ass."

	He heard the man groan audibly over the phone.

	"What are you doing, Coach?"

	"Aw fuck, Williams, I'm tonguing your jockhole. . . Just how you
want it."

	"No, I mean what are you really doing right now?"

	There was a pause.

	The voice on the other end gave a weak reply. "Aw, please don't
make me take them out, Williams. . ."

	"Coach, you aren't supposed to be fingerfucking your pussy right
now, you're supposed to be licking my ass."

	"Aw fuck, Williams, but it feels so good. . ." Coach Jackson
whined.

	"Coach." His athlete said, sternly.

	He heard the giant man give a sigh.

	"That's better." Brad said, with a smirk. "Now get back to the job
you need to be doing." He started rubbing his hole lightly, imagining it
was the sensations of Coach Jackson's tongue.

	"I've got your fucking legs up." The man grunted, closing his eyes
as he imagined it. "That perfect jock hole is just clinging to my
tongue. It's hungry for it. It loves it when I treat it right and give it a
nice tongue job."

	"You bet it does, Coach." Brad moaned as he mimicked the sensations
on himself to the sound of the giant man's voice. "Go on and take your cock
out, Coach. Play with yourself while you get me off."

	The man groaned into the phone. "Aw fuck Williams, you got me so
hot for it. Got my cunt all wet and ready for you."

	"Not so fast, Coach, you've got a job to do."

	"Aw, fuck, I love it so much, Williams. Working that jock hole over
and making you feel good."

	"I even shaved it real nice for you because I know how much you
love a smooth jockhole to lick, Coach."

	"God, I fucking love it. So fucking tight. Just pulls at my
tongue."

	Brad groaned in pleasure as he teased his hole open gently and
playing around it.

	"You're getting me close, Coach."

	"Oh I know. I know you're close when you start breathing heavy like
that and you start closing on my tongue. You're fucking ready for it,
aren't you, kid?"

	"Come on, Coach, just like that." Brad moaned, throwing his head
back, getting into it. "Aw man, I'm precumming like crazy."

	"Don't you fucking touch that, Williams!" Coach Jackson
barked. "That's mine."

	Brad collected the trail on his finger and brought it to his
tongue. "You can lick it off my tongue, Coach."

	"Mmmmmm. . ." He heard the giant man moan into the phone. "God, I
fuckin' love it. Fuckin' love getting you all worked up and hot for me."

	"Keep going, Coach, I'm almost there."

	"Y-you're still gonna fuck me, right?" Coach Jackson asked.

	"Come on, Coach, get back on that hole!"

	"Williams-"

	"Oh fuck Coach, here it comes!" Brad exclaimed, throwing his head
back.

	"Give me that cum!"

	"GAAAAHHH!" Brad yelled as he started shooting everywhere, tapping
his finger against his hole as he shook all over.

	Coach Jackson groaned into the phone as he reveled in his athlete's
orgasm, almost able to feel it vicariously through him.

	Brad continued to shoot all over his chest as his hole throbbed
around the tip of his finger. He could hear Coach Jackson's heavy breathing
on the other line.

	"Fuck, Coach. . ."

	"Yeah, was that good or what, Williams?"

	"That was amazing." Brad panted, catching his breath.

	"Now it's my turn." He heard the giant man say as he could hear him
repositioning his massive body on the mattress. "My cunt's all slicked up
and ready for you."

	Brad looked at his clock. They had been talking for way longer than
he had anticipated.

	"Sorry Coach, but I've actually gotta run. I'm grabbing dinner with
some of the guys and I'm already late."

	"Wha-" Coach Jackson started. "Come on Williams, I just need a
couple minutes." He said, audibly wetting his fingers and positioning them
at his opening. "Give me that jock cock and get me off."

	"I really am sorry, Coach." Brad apologized, standing up to step
into his clothes.

	"Come on Williams, let me put my fingers back in my snatch and
you'll get me off in two minutes, I promise!"

	"I can't Coach, I'm sorry." Brad said, running over to the mirror
to brush his hair.

	"Williams!" Coach Jackson barked into the phone. "Damn it, you need
to get me off, now get back here and fuck me! I swear to god, I'm right
fuckin' there! Just one minute, work my pussy over and you'll get me off, I
swear! "

	"Look Coach, you can call me later this weekend, alright?"

	"WILLIAMS!"

"I love you, Coach."

"DAMN IT WILLIAMS, DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE HANG UP THAT FUCKING PHONE!!"

Click.

Brad Williams looked out of his window before heading to the door and saw a
flock of birds hastily fly from the nearby tree and take off. He could
swear he could hear the primal yell of frustration coming from Coach
Jackson all the way from across the entire state.

He really did have to go. However, he had a feeling he'd find a way to make
it up to him.


					-

	The following Friday after practice Coach Driver asked Brad to hang
back and step inside his office as the other guys headed out.

	"You asked to see me, sir?" Brad said as he sat down in one of the
chairs in front of the desk. This certainly wasn't the first time he'd been
requested to stay after practice by a football coach but he had a feeling
this time would be a little less fun than what he'd been accustomed to.

	"Yeah, take a seat. I just wanted to ask you how you're adjusting
to everything. It's hard enough moving off to school and joining a team
like this, much less as being the only freshman on it. I just wanted to
check up on you."

	Brad had to admit, he was taken aback by the gesture. Coach Driver
might look like a rough, tough giant, but inside it appeared he really
cared about his athletes. He liked that.

	"I'm doing great, sir. Thanks. I'm really enjoying being on the
team and I'm excited for when my classes start."

	"Well that's good to know." Driver started laughing. "Dan made it
pretty clear to me that he'd kick my ass if I didn't stay on top of you and
make sure you're on track."

	Brad rolled his eyes. "He just can't help himself, can he?" He
laughed.

	"You've got a loyal guy who loves you back at home. You could be
worse off." Driver smiled.

	"Yeah, I guess you're right." Brad shrugged. "Is that all, sir?"

	He could see the man looking him over fondly, most likely going
back to the fun they'd shared in this office a few months back with Coach
Jackson.

	"Yeah, that's all. You're free to go."

	As Brad stood up, Driver's eyes went right for his ass, sticking
out of his thin athletic shorts.

	"So you're telling me any effort I put into getting into that ass
of yours is going to get me nowhere?" He pouted, crossing his arms with a
smile.

	Brad turned back to him as he reached the door. "Let's put it this
way." He said with a smirk. "If anyone in this room is going to cave and
give it up, it'll be you before me, sir."

	Driver shook his head, laughing. "That's not going to happen, kid."

	"I wouldn't be so sure, sir. I've had plenty of experience getting
guys like you to give it up."

	"Likewise." Driver replied, sizing him up.

	"See you tomorrow then, sir." Brad muttered, leaving it at that.

	He opened the door and left the office, feeling that familiar rush
that goes through his veins when he sets his sights on new prey. He let
that confidence flow through him until he turned and saw John Carpenter
sitting on one of the benches, looking seriously pissed off.

	Carpenter stood up and headed straight toward him, fuming. "What
the fuck, man? I thought I told you to back off?"

	"Look Carpenter, Coach Driver asked to see me, alright? You're
still the quarterback. You can stop crying."

	"Oh fuck off, you and I both know this has nothing to do with me
being the quarterback!"

	"Dude, what are you talking-" Brad began.

	At that moment John tensed up and pushed Brad into the lockers,
causing them to rattle all around them.

	"What the fuck!" Brad yelled, immediately jumping up and rushing
over to him, throwing him on the ground.

	Fists were flying everywhere as they tried to overpower the other,
with Carpenter's sheer size giving him the advantage.

	Coach Driver's door swung open. "What the hell is going on!" He
roared.

	John pinned Brad down with rage in his eyes as Coach Driver pushed
him off of him forcefully.

	Brad caught his breath as he reached up to his face to make sure he
wasn't bleeding. He seemed to be in the clear, but he was sure to have a
few bruises by tomorrow.

	John was still fuming as he looked at him, with Coach Driver
yelling at him angrily.

	"Go home, Brad." Driver told him, helping him up. "I'll deal with
this."

	Brad took one last look at John, staring him down coldly.

	"Brad!" The man shouted. "Leave."

	"Fine." Brad muttered, as he walked out the doors.

						-
	I jumped, startled, when Brad slammed the door to our room shut
when he got home.

	"Whoa, what happened to you?" I asked, alarmed, noticing a red,
swollen spot beneath his eye.

	"I don't want to talk about it, Ollie." He mumbled, moodily as he
collapsed on the bed.

	"Brad, come on, tell me." I pressed, concerned. "Did someone hit
you? Did you get in a fight?"

	"I'll tell you later." He said, rolling onto his side, his back
turned to me.

	"Okay. . ." I replied, understanding he would tell me when he was
ready. "I'm here for you, okay brother?"

	"Yeah, I know."

	And with that, I went back to my book as he either stared at the
wall or went to sleep.

						-

	At 9:00 pm that night Brad was stirred out of his sleep by his
phone buzzing. He brought it up to his face as he waited for his vision to
get adjusted to the bright light emanating from it. His swollen cheek
throbbed painfully.

	It was a message from Coach Driver.

	Driver: Lots to explain. Come by my office tomorrow afternoon at
3. Trust me. You'll be glad you did.

						-

	After a night of tossing and turning, and a morning of running
through the previous day's events in his mind, Brad Williams was still
angry. He couldn't imagine what Coach Driver was talking about that could
possibly make up for what John did to him. For the way he'd treated him
ever since he joined the team. He was mad just thinking about it.

	As he made his way to the gymnasium, he clenched his fists
angrily. With no time to spare as he rounded the corner to Coach Driver's
office, he could hear the faint sound of yelling. Or- or was it grunting?

	When he got to the door, he peered inside of the window and his jaw
dropped. There, spread out on Coach Driver's desk, thick, muscular legs in
the air, was John Carpenter, moaning and groaning in ecstasy as their
menacing football coach sank his legendary cock in and out of him.

	As if he sensed his presence, Coach Driver turned his head over to
the window and saw his athlete standing there, absolutely dumbfounded. A
wicked grin spread across his handsome face as he gestured him to come in.

	Brad slowly opened the door, not even fully believing this was
reality.

	"Come on in, Brad." Coach Driver muttered with a grin, grunting as
he gave John a particularly hard thrust.

	At that moment the handsome quarterback laying beneath him jerked
out of his trance and saw his rival standing there watching him a he
submitted so completely or their powerful coach. "DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK!"
John yelled, scrambling to sit up and hide himself.

	Coach Driver held him in place and sank all the way into him,
causing the quarterback to grunt involuntarily as he was fully impaled on
almost a full foot length of thick cock. "I think it's about time you boys
settled this once and for all, don't you think?"