Date: Tue, 16 May 2000 01:34:45 -0700
From: Jon Hold <jonhold@eudoramail.com>
Subject: No Running 2/? M/m Masturbation, shower, bonding

A couple of requests and a few urges of my own have brought on
the continuation of this story. If you have ideas about where
you'd like to see this go in the future, or if there are special
things you'd like to see happen, drop me a line and let me know.
I have ideas now for at least two more chapters, but I'm getting
ready to take a trip, and I'm not sure when they might appear.
thanks for reading my stuff and a very special thanks to those
of you who have taken the time to drop me a note. Jon


This work is copyrighted by the author and may not be used
without his express permission. Private persons and no others
are given permission to have one (1) electronic and/or one (1)
printed copy of this work. ASSGM and Nifty are given permission
to archive this work.

All the usual disclaimers that are usually usual apply here.
This is a work of fiction involving sex acts between consenting
persons of various conditions of life. If you can't handle that
or if you are not of the legal age or mindset, go no further but
remove this material from your possession forthwith.

If you have faggot sensitivity, you ought not read this story.
I'd really like to hear from some of you with either positive or
negative comments. I have no idea really if I'm bringing any of
you pleasure or what it is you'd like me to write about. I only
hear from a few people on each story and that's not much
feedback for all the work I put into writing these. I'd really
like to hear from you so I'll have some idea how I'm doing.
Thanks.

I used two returns between paragraphs to simplify formatting for
you.

Try to keep in mind that while 42 is the meaning of life, it is
not the only possible solution. Jon



No Running

Chapter 2

Shower Time



Coach held me up against the shower wall while he got a shower
started and the temperature adjusted. Then he pulled me under
the spray with him and held me. I was embarrassed at first,
touching another man like this, but he just held me and suddenly
I was hugging him as hard as I could and bawling all over his
naked shoulder. He just held me and let me cry until I was all
cried out.

When I finally quieted down, he lifted a hand from my back and
started stroking the hair on the back of my head, really gently,
like he really cared about me. I was getting really embarrassed,
having made such a fool of myself and acting like such a baby.
Coach just pulled my head back by the hair, looked me right in
the eye and asked, "You okay now, Son?"

All I could do was nod my head "Yes," and look embarrassed. He
just got a little smile on his face and leaned forward and gave
me a pecking little kiss on the cheek. Then he gave me a big hug
which I returned as best I could.

Coach turned and picked up a bar of soap and started to wash me
just as if I were his boy and he'd been washing me just like my
real daddy had right up to the time he was killed. Remembering
that made me sad, but Coach was making me feel too good for me
to start crying again. Coach washed me everywhere just like I
was his little boy.  He even washed down the crack of my ass and
made sure that my butthole was "sparkley clean", as my Daddy
used to say. Coach washed my legs and feet and then took his
time carefully and thoroughly washing my genitals. That felt so
good all I could do was spread my legs, lean up against the cool
tile wall and moan. Coach had me nice and hard again when he
finally pulled me back into the shower spray and rinsed the soap
completely off my body. Then he handed me the bar of soap and
turned his back to me.

Almost afraid to touch this powerfully built older man, I
started soaping up his back. Coach arched his back and moaned,
"Ohhhh! That feels good!" I got his whole back soaped up and put
the bar of soap back in the tray. Starting back up at Coach's
shoulders I started washing/massaging him. I probed my thumbs
deep into his back muscles and Coach moaned deeply again. I
started using more and more pressure, rocking Coach on his feet.
He took a step forward and "spread 'em", just as if I were a
cop. Hands on the wall, feet spread, runnels of soap suds
running down across his back, down his flat flanks and
muscularly curved butt. God he was beautiful! I moved up behind
him, but couldn't get too close for fear that my swollen member
would poke him in the ass. I started working on his back again
and that made it better because my dick got totally erect and,
like young men's do, mine stood up and curved right up against
my belly.

The pain in my ass and my horny dick were completely forgotten
as I worked on coaches back. I couldn't believe that a grown man
was letting me touch him like this. Trusting me just like my
father had. Letting me explore and satisfy my curiosity just
like my father had. It took forever and forever to wash the
broad expanses of Coach's muscular back and I never wanted being
able to touch him to end. I washed under his arms and felt their
muscular weight as I slid my arms through and washed his chest
and belly and up around and behind his neck. At the same time,
the closer I got to his narrow waist, and the bulge of butt and
crisp little pubic patch beneath it, the more trepidacious I
got. I wanted nothing more than to run my hands over the slick
curves of the gorgeous butt teasing my eyes. I was terrified of
doing anything that would cause this man to reject me. The
quandary had me so tied up inside that I was about to pass out
from lack of oxygen.

Coach must have noticed my hesitation and indecision. He reached
behind himself and took hold of my wrist. He wiped my hand all
over the cheek of my ass and even pushed a couple of my fingers
down into his crack and very noticeably over the deeply hidden
pucker. My erection was throbbing and it felt like the blood
pressure in my head was going to explode my brains. "Wash me
like I washed you, Son. Just do it!"

I just about came right then and there. I let my other hand
slide down onto the opposite cheek of Coach's ass and he let go
of my wrist and put his hand back up on the wall. I couldn't
believe how absolutely magnificent his ass felt in my hands.
Solid. Meaty. Hard and soft all at the same time. I went down on
my knees to get better access and clenched both tight mounds in
my hands until the skin showed white. Coach groaned and slowly
wiggled his butt back harder into my grip. I didn't need any
more confirmation than that. I sort of lost it about then. I
mean, it's like I blanked out or something. I got so involved in
washing my new coach that my brain sort of got all foggy. I can
remember running my hands up and down the dark crack of his ass
and being amazed that he would not only let me do that, but
seemed to really enjoy the feeling. I touched his pucker a
little bit and he pushed his butt back to give me better access.
I was still holding back a little so he told me exactly how to
use my fingers to wash out his hole. Left finger and then right
finger entered him and swished around, cleaning him real good. I
didn't want the soap burning his tender insides, so I leaned to
the side and let the shower spray fill my mouth with warm water.
Holding his hole open with two fingers and pursing my lips, I
emitted a stream of water that finished the job of cleaning out
his hole.

Coach relaxed and let his hole really open up for me and I
spurted four or five mouthfuls of water into his crevice and
hole. It was so beautiful. I wanted to lean forward and kiss the
tight little pink mouth, but didn't have the guts. I remember
washing his feet and him using his feet to tease my genitals. At
one point I had his foot holding my cock and balls down to the
cool tile floor as I ran both hands up and down his lower leg as
if I were jacking off some huge cock that erupted from my
weighted groin. A thick lather built up as my hands wandered
purposefully all over his hairless legs until my fingers
entangled themselves in the wet strands of almost invisible
blond thatch. As if drawn by a magnet I rose from my haunches up
onto my knees, pulling my partially flaccid organs from under
Coach's foot as I ascended.

Leaning my head against a hard muscled thigh, I wrapped my arm
around the back of Coach's legs as my good right hand
wonderingly explored Coach's breeding equipment. Engrossed as I
was in investigating the wonder before me, I was still aware of
Coach looking down at me, a small smile of approval beaming down
at me like a benediction. My Father had let me touch him there,
but that was just a little kid wanting to know why his was so
much larger than mine. Coach also had a foreskin, which neither
my father nor myself had. Coach's was really nice. It had hung
down a bit over the head of his cock when it was soft and free-
swinging, leaving a nicely rounded opening for his pee to flow
through. Now that Coach was rampantly erect his foreskin had
pulled back until it left a good half-inch of nose and man-mouth
exposed.

Watching the super-masculine rod duck and weave and bob around,
I laved coach's totally hairless balls in their translucently
pellucid sack and all he did was spread his legs a bit further
apart to give me better access to his hanging testicles,
trusting me to not hurt him and allowing me free rein to satisfy
my curiosity.

My hand eventually roved northwards, my fingers being entrapped
by his pubic hair as I used my short fingernails to scratch-
clean the skin they so poorly hid. My scratching started Coach
moaning again as he thrust his pubes forward, telling me to
scratch harder and to satisfy his need for pubic pleasure.
Rarely does a man get a chance to scratch another man where it
itches, but from personal experience I knew exactly how to
satisfy that need.

My hand eventually moved outwards and began investigating the
thick tube that jutted horizontally and powerfully from the
coach's crotch. The feel of the heated rod immediately set my
hand in motion, moving the wonderfully loose and plentiful skin
rising up and spiraling down the shaft. I moved more in front of
Coach and my other hand joined its mate twisting oppositely as
both eager fists cojointly milked the now throbbing shaft. I
looked up at Coach to see if what I was doing was okay, and I
guess it must have been because he had his head tilted back and
both his hands were busy playing with his pecs.

The movements of my hands started pulling back on Coach's
foreskin and I was fixated by the sight. How beautiful! Totally
fucking awesome! Carefully, using just my fingertips, I moved
the snug skin around. Watching how it opened up to let the nose
peek through, glistening drops of sparkling clear man juice
glinting in the sunlight from the high gym windows. The
unbelievable way the foreskin opened up and rolled back over the
wide flare of this mans broad cockhead. the manly odor that
swelled the lining of my nose with its inflammatory scent. The
way the skin suddenly moved behind the swollen flare, releasing
bursts of man scent. I was totally enthralled by the way I could
move the firm sheath back and forth, first covering the
battering rams head and then exposing the flushed pink knob as
the whole organ throbbed and swelled even larger.

Coach began thrusting his hips at me and I went along with his
obvious need by firming up my double-handed grip and jacking his
foreskin back and forth over the turgid head of his iron hard
pussy nail. Coach suddenly hammered his loins forward and a huge
spurt of viscid whiteness splattered my face. I leaned off to
the side, keeping my solid grip on the ejaculating nozzle, and
watched totally fascinated by the swelling and then jumping
throb as stream after stream became airborne, only to splatter
on the tile floor and wash away towards the floor drain. My cock
was throbbing so hard between my legs that it really hurt. I
couldn't take my hands off of coach, even if my life depended
upon it, so I tried to give myself relief by fucking the steamy
air.

Coach collapsed back against the wall and put his hand on my
head, holding the pulsing arteries swollen across my forehead
against his warm thigh. One of his strong, manly hands smoothed
my wet hair down and his other hand slicked his cum off of my
face. I reached down to take care of my own jerking need but
Coach reached down and slipped his hands into my armpits and
lifted me to my feet.

Tilting my head back with his cupped hand so that I had to look
directly into his face, Coach said, "You are in training now!
You don't cum unless I give you permission. Do you understand?"

Flushfaced with embarrassment and need, I nodded my head and
said, "Yes, Sir."

"I know it's going to be hard, but I mean it! If you want to be
on my team, you will do EXACTLY what I tell you to do. Do you
understand me?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Okay! I'll trust you to do as I say."

With that, Coach moved me back under the shower spray and we
rinsed each other off, quite thoroughly. Coach turned me to face
the spray and then moved off to the side. "Stand right there and
don't move!" With that, he turned off the hot water and what
felt like an ice cold deluge of water poured over me until my
poor little wiener deflated and then shrank up and tried to pull
back inside of my body to hide from the cold water. Once my dick
was little more than a nubbin, Coach turned off the water.
Pushing on my shoulder to get me started, he slapped my ass and
told me to, "Get dried off and dressed and get out of here!" I
started to panic, but he continued, "I want you back here at 6
AM Saturday morning for some special training."

Moving towards my locker, I smiled and said, "Yes, SIR!"


---EOF---