An 18 year old young man’s first true love…
The only sound in the nearly deserted locker room came from the spray of the shower splattering on the tile after hitting the body of Ken Lanza, who up until last week was captain of the school soccer team.
Now a graduate, he was enjoying what was likely the last shower he would ever take in that locker room, and while he might have had some pangs of nostalgia over the passing of time, that wasn’t what was on his mind as he lathered up his body a second time. His thoughts were not on soccer, or the end of his high school days, but were focused on something entirely different.
Kenny was lingering as he often did, hoping and praying for his audience to appear, an observer who often would show up when he was showering alone. The observer never spoke and didn’t stay long – not nearly long enough – and Kenny never acknowledged the presence of the man peeking around from behind the wall of the drying room. Instead Kenny continued to shower as if no one was there, trying his best to pretend that he wasn’t aware of Coach Costas watching him rinse off.
It was why Kenny always chose the shower that made it easier for him to be seen, because that was what he wanted. He wanted Coach Costas to look at him and to see his body, but he also wanted him to do more. He wanted the man to come into the shower with him. He wanted him to touch him and teach him things, because there was so much that Kenny didn’t know. So much still to learn, and there was no one that Kenny wanted to learn from more than his long-time coach.
Inevitably, Coach Costas would duck away as quickly as he had appeared, leaving Kenny alone again, and after Kenny would hear the sound of the door closing that signified that Coach Costas had either left the locker room or entered his office, Kenny would invariably sigh and end his shower.
Not before finishing what he had built up to though, and it never took much time. His long and slender cock, which had been in state of semi-erection all during the intense scrubbing he had given it, would now be hard and in Kenny’s fist.
Kenny’s hand never needed more than a couple dozen trips up and down the length of his member before his orgasm would explode all over the tiles. Kenny would be cumming while picturing a different scene; a scenario where Coach Costas did not leave but entered the shower with him, and after soaping each others bodies, Coach would kneel in front of him and take him into his mouth at long last.
Of course it never happened, Kenny realized, and never would. Coach wasn’t looking at him with lust in his eyes but instead was probably just making sure he was alright and hadn’t fallen in there. Why would a grown man want to look at a skinny kid taking a shower?
Kenny had volunteered to help Coach Costas take inventory of the equipment and lock things up for the summer. It was something that Kenny had done every year he had been in school, and was one of the things that had earned him the nickname of Coach’s Pet, and while Darrell Walsh had been kidding when he said it to him that one time, the words had hit home.
“Gee,” Darrell had said after practice one time, when Kenny had stayed after to work on his footwork with the coach. “It’s almost like you’re gay for him.”
Because Kenny had an enviable track record with the girls, Darrell had only said it in jest, but Kenny knew it was true. He had sex with a couple of girls, but it wasn’t the same with them. It was fun, but not like with another guy.
Kenny’s first experience was with a classmate, and it had been wonderful. Awkward and inexperienced, the two of them had a wonderful time learning about the joys of another man’s body, and then there was that man who had picked him up hitchhiking.
The man was in his 40’s, like Coach Costas, and while he had been kind and considerate, he had shown Kenny that he had so much to learn, but also made Kenny realize that he enjoyed the flesh of an older man more than those of his own age.
Coach Costas, Kenny thought as he soaped his armpits yet again. Coach had the body of a Greek God, or at least that was the way Kenny saw him. Although they were both about the same height, 5’9″ or so, Coach was much different in many ways.
Coach Costas was as thick and muscular as Kenny was slender and wiry, with thighs that resembled tree trunks. Coach’s legs were so ripped that it didn’t seem possible that he could still be so quick on his feet, as he had often proved when he played a little one-on-one with Kenny on occasion.
Coach’s skin was naturally bronze in hue, which also contrasted greatly with Kenny’s pale skin, but the greatest contrast was the hair that covered Coach’s body from head to toe. The dark brown fur covered his body from his neck down to his knees, and front and back, as Kenny had learned one day when he accidentally saw Coach Costas undressing in his office.
It was only the briefest of glances, but they were a couple of seconds that were forever etched in Kenny’s memory. He had opened the door, which was a bit ajar, and had seen Coach Costas in the act of putting on his gym shorts, with his back to Kenny.
The sight of that muscular body, still amazingly fit despite his years, had only served to inflame Kenny’s desire even higher. Wearing only a jockstrap, Coach Costas was unaware Kenny had been there savoring the view of his ass cheeks framed by the elastic straps of the supporter. Even his buttocks were hairy, Kenny noticed, as he replayed the image of the hirsute man in his mind.
What Kenny would have given if Coach had turned around and peeled off his jockstrap, giving him a chance to savor all of his chiseled torso. His cock – what was it like? Kenny had always imagined Coach’s cock to be as magnificently sculptured as the rest of him, and it made Kenny more than a little sad to realize that he would never get to see it for himself.
There he was, Kenny realized as he felt the eyes on him without having to look in his direction. It was as if he had a sixth sense about the coach’s presence, and Kenny then did as he often did during these moments, turning part way around to let Coach Costas see more of him while raising his face to the shower head.
It was if Kenny was saying – practically screaming, look at me. I want you to look at me, and I’ll pretend I don’t notice you there checking me out. I’m not a kid any more, am I? I’m a man now, in every way.
Those were Kenny’s fantasies that were running through his head, and when Kenny dared to take a peek in the direction of the shower room’s entrance, it was like his imagination was still in control. There was no way that this was really happening.
Coach Costas could not really be entering the room, pulling his towel off and waddling toward Kenny, turning on a faucet just a few feet away from him just like one of the guys. Coach Costas wasn’t just one of the guys, though. He was a man.
Kenny fought the urge to look at Coach Costas, but he could not resist. Through the mist and the spray Kenny glanced over at Coach, who was facing him as if to say that he wanted him to look at him too, and so he did.
From the broad shoulders, the ripped chest and the biceps so muscular and well defined that they were as big as Kenny’s thighs, the younger man let his eyes wander down until they locked onto the man’s sex, which hung down limply between the slighted bowed thighs.
Coach’s cock was big; not outrageously long but he was certainly well endowed, especially as far as girth goes. The dusky brown member was really thick, especially around the base, while it tapered down to a rather modest sized glans.
Circumcised, Kenny mused as he finally managed to turn away. In his fantasies, Coach Costas had been uncut and his cock had been enormous, but in real life he was more human and even more enthralling, and Kenny made sure his back was turned so that Coach wouldn’t see he had an erection.
“Steal some of your soap?” Coach Costas said, and he brushed against Kenny to push the pump dispenser, and the feel of the older man’s body against his made Kenny almost faint before Coach Costas stepped back under his own shower head.
That was intentional, Kenny thought as his heartbeat became more normal. Coach had come over to get some from his dispenser just so he could brush against him. Or was it? Maybe he had tried the other soap things and they were empty? They often were.
Coach had his back to Kenny, but was reaching down to scrub his feet, giving Kenny a spectacular view of the underside of his balls and cock as well as his ass. The crack of his ass was hairy too, profusely so. Was Coach showing him his ass on purpose?
Kenny was frozen. Nothing that had happened was obvious. Maybe it was all just his over-active imagination. Imagine how he would feel if he reached over and touched coach – grabbed his cock or something and found himself getting thrown against the wall. Having Coach Costas call him a queer and slapping him silly, telling him to get lost and stay lost would be worse than death to Kenny.
He had been in the shower for almost fifteen minutes, and Kenny’s skin was beginning to get wrinkled from the extended bathing. Just before turning off the spray, Kenny did what Coach Costas had just done, reaching down and washing his feet.
As Kenny looked down at what he was watching, he could see the feet of his coach turn around to face him, making it obvious that he was watching him. The hair on his legs was so thick that it made Coach’s legs look black, and Kenny felt a little inadequate when he looked at the faint dusting on hair on his own lower calves.
Maybe Coach Costas was looking elsewhere, like Kenny had been. What did he look like in this vulnerable position? Probably looked as scrawny and pathetic as he often felt next to his coach, Kenny surmised, and so he quickly straightened up and turned off the shower, padding out to the drying room as fast as he could.
Kenny grabbed a towel and quickly dried his scalp, and as he did he heard the other shower turn off. The young man tied the towel around his waist and grabbed another one to finish drying his long chestnut-colored hair with as Coach Costas joined him in the drying room.
“Won’t be the same without you here, Ken,” Coach Costas said, and the young man was startled to hear Coach not call him Kenny like he always had in the past.
“Me too,” Kenny said, so nervous that his answer made no sense, and he had to turn away because Coach Costas was just standing there, not using the towel he was holding, but instead just looking at him.
“Here, let me,” Coach Costas said as he appeared in front of Kenny and motioned for him to raise his arms.
Kenny did as he was asked, and Coach Costas took the towel and dried Kenny’s chest and arms, delicately drying the faint wisps of golden hairs under Kenny’s arms before moving the towel downward.
Kenny glanced down at the towel he was wearing; a towel that was looking more like a tent as his erection came back in force, and he had to swivel away from Coach Costas so he didn’t see it. Coach kept moving the towel though, but now on his back, and Kenny could feel the older man’s breath on his neck as he continued to massage the cotton on his skin.
“Ken,” Coach Costas said softly into Kenny’s ear as his hand went down to the towel that was tied around the young man’s waist, and suddenly it wasn’t there any more.
This was like a dream come true, but Kenny was so shocked and scared that even though he wanted it, he couldn’t speak or move, but instead felt Coach Costas move his hand down the front of his body. Through the tuft of hair above his privates went the stubby fingers of Coach Costas, and when that beefy hand wrapped around Kenny’s throbbing cock the young man’s knees buckled a bit.
“Coach,” Kenny said in a pleading voice.
“I’m not Coach,” The man said, taking a deep inhale of breath as he felt the stiff cock pulsating in his grasp. “You aren’t my student anymore. We’re men, and I’ve waited for what seems like forever for this moment.”
Kenny wanted to say that he felt the same way, but he couldn’t. The room was spinning, his entire body was shaking and as Coach Costas moved his hand along the entire 8″ of the lad’s erection, Kenny fell back into the older man’s chest as he began to cum.
The only thing holding Kenny up was the arm Coach Costas had wrapped around Kenny’s chest, and when the older man realized what was happening the fist wrapped around the young man’s cock slowly stroked away, milking every drop out of Kenny’s cock until it went limp in his grasp.
Kenny got his legs under himself after his orgasm finally ended, and he watched as the coach’s hand came up from his cock, the hairy backs of his fingers dripping with semen. Kenny did not see but heard Coach licking the cum off of his fingers, and then he was being turned around to face his mentor.
“I didn’t mean to cum so fast – you know,” Kenny mumbled as he looked at his coach, his short curly hair still dripping from the shower, “I’ve dreamed of having that happen for what seems like forever, Coach.”
“I’m not coach anymore,” Coach Costas reminded him. “I’m Anthony.”
“Can I – Anthony?” Kenny asked, and his former coach nodded while letting Kenny take the towel from his hand.
The towel was slightly damp, but that didn’t matter to either of them as Kenny began working the cotton over the chiseled upper torso of his mentor. Anthony’s muscles were like steel underneath the pelt of fur, and as Kenny dried the older man, the hair regained the wiry feel that Kenny had relished whenever he had brushed against his coach’s arms.
Coach Costas raised his arms, the massive biceps growing even larger, allowing Kenny to work the towel under his arms. How many times had Kenny looked at these thick tufts of armpit hair that were evident because of the tank top shirts that Coach Costas wore at practices and gotten hard in the process? Armpit hair that was only discernible because it was denser and thicker than the hair on the surrounding area, and now Kenny found himself drawn like a magnet to it.
Kenny felt his face flush as he buried his face in the wild jungle of hair, but even though Coach Costas might think he was weird he couldn’t help himself. The sounds that the older man made as Kenny licked and kissed all over his underarm made Kenny relax, as did the hand on the back of his head held him close, encouraging him to continue the fulfillment of his fantasy.
“Oh, that’s so good! Hold it, please,” Coach Costas gasped. “Gonna cum if you don’t stop.”
“It’s okay,” Kenny said, glancing down at the thick cock next to his thigh that was pointing straight out with the veins pulsating in the shaft of his manhood. “Let me.”