COACH LAURIE
- 2 years ago
- 33
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Coach And Me free porn video
This is a true story about the time one of my high school basketball coaches decided to push things past the point of appropriate during a post-practice massage session. I won’t give my specific age at the time, nor use the real name of the person involved.
Some background; I played sports throughout my entire high school career and would always have problems with cramping in my hamstrings. No matter how much water I drank or how much I stretched, I couldn’t help the inevitable cramping or straining in that area. I was lucky enough to attend a more prestigious school growing up so our sports programs always had our own certified athletic trainers who would normally handle these sorts of duties.
This one particular day, this specific person had been out sick, so after the evening’s practice, our head coach stressed the importance of keeping with routine and insisted he’d meet me in the trainer’s room at my usual time. I thought nothing of it and of course I agreed.
I was already lying on the table flat on my stomach when he walked in. The first thing he asked me to do was take off my shirt, which I thought was unusual seeing as how I usually always left it on considering it was only my hamstrings getting massaged. But I did as I was told and pulled my shirt off.
He squirt some gel on the back of my legs and immediately went to work, rubbing it up and down, one hand on each leg, working it deep into the muscle. I remember it felt different than usual but not so much in a bad way, just less effective. Less massaging and more just rubbing.
After a few minutes, the biggest difference came when he started reaching up higher, his hands poking in through the bottom of my basketball shorts which were already rolled up, fingers grazing the crease of my ass cheeks. It sent a tingling sensation throughout my whole body, knowing instinctively that something was off but liking it. Not knowing how to reconcile the two. It was then when he asked me to roll onto my back. I did as he told, asking what the point of this was.
“Your core muscles work in unison with one another,” I remember him saying. “It’s important they all stay loose.”
He squirted more gel on my thighs then began rubbing them the same as he did my hamstrings. Digging his fingers in deep, slowly working his way up. I remember feeling a tingle in my nipples when, to my horror, I felt my dick move. A slight jump, the blood rushing south. I was getting hard and couldn’t have been more mortified.
I was doing everything I could to stop it; thinking all the kinds of horrible, disgusting thoughts one might conjure in up in order to stave off unwanted arousal, but it wasn’t working. I was fully hard, situation getting the best of me, and my dick started to throb in a way I couldn’t contain or hide. I knew he was going to notice, and he did. I began apologize profusely, and, as if needed to prove my own manhood, explained to him that I only liked girls.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he told me. “It’s a natural thing.” To my surprise, he pulled his hands off my thighs, this time squirting the gel on my stomach, then started rubbing my abs, obliques, working his way up my chest. Of course none of this helped my situation, my dick was throbbing wildly in my gym shorts just below. I was squirming and lightly thrusting my hips it was so uncomfortable.
“You’re gonna need to take care of that, you know,” he said to me. “I’m assuming you know how.” I nodded. I was in my teen years which means I was no stranger to jerking myself off.
“Good,” he said, pulling his hands off me. “Get to work.” He turned his back to me, walked to the sink faucet, and began washing his hands.
“I don’t understand,” I said. I didn’t. I thought there was no way he was asking me to do what I thought he was asking.
“You have to relieve yourself before we can continue, so just get it out of the way,” he instructed, tossing me the massaging gel. “It’s okay, I’ve seen it all before.”
Something about his tone was strangely reassuring, like it was all no big deal despite my extreme reservations. But I couldn’t ignore the throbbing going on, nor my own building desire, so ultimately I slid my gym shorts down to my knees, lubed myself up, and began stroking my dick.
It was uncomfortable for the first few seconds, my braining overcoming the shock of the situation, knowing it was all wrong. But that quickly passed, and soon thereafter I was jerking myself faster, the gel squishing in my hand with each stroke.
I happened to glance over and noticed he was turned back around, watching me. Lightly rubbing himself through his track pants. I stared at him as he did, hypnotized by the moment. I started rubbing my chest with my free hand, feeling myself, playing with my nipples while I kept jerking my dick.
“Let me help you,” he said, approaching me now. “Enjoy yourself.”
I felt him up beside me on the table now, his hands running up my torso softly, reaching my chest, rubbing my nipples. I couldn’t help my moan, closing my eyes. I suddenly felt on the verge of cumming and let go of my dick, trying to postpone the orgasm as much as I could.
Sensing as much, Coach immediately wrapped a hand around my dick, shushing me like a c***d.
“Breathe,” he whispered, his hand slowly beginning to stroke. “You wanna learn to control it, don’t you?”
“Mmhmm,” I managed. I started taking deep, measured breathes, composing myself as I felt him begin stroking my dick a little bit faster now, encouraging “that’s it.”
Back under control, it wasn’t long until he was jerking my cock at a quickened pace as I thrust lightly in his hand to meet his stroke. He moved forward and leaned down to spit on my dick for added lubrication when I felt his own dick press up against my hand on the side of the table, rock hard.
Without thinking about it, I reached over and grabbed it through his track pants, tracing its size, rubbing the head. I felt him thrust into my patting, and so I grabbed the top of the pants and pulled them down. His throbbing cock flicked out, just as hard as my own, already dripping with precum.
I started jerking it just as he was jerking my own, the two of us breathing heavy, trying to keep our voices down, unsure of who else might be roaming the building at the hour. To my surprise, not long after he pulled away from my hand, he lifted his dick up over the table and began jerking himself off as he came, shooting his load on my dick, using his free hand to rub his cum all over it.
Finished, he kept jerking me off with one hand and now started rubbing my chest and stomach again, stroking me faster and faster.
“Give me that fucking cum,” he said, feeling myself lose control. My cock erupted, shooting cum up in the air, all over myself uncontrollably as he pumped out every drop, still going even after I had finished.
Finally, he let go of my dick, grabbed a towel nearby, and cleaned me up before sliding my shorts back up. He pulled his own pants back up too, tossed the towel in the dirty bin, and went back to the sink to wash his hands again.
“How do you feel,” he asked. “Good,” I replied, not knowing what else to say, not lying.
“Good,” he said. “Then we’ll call it a night.”
After that, he dried his hands and walked out the room. I remember laying there trying to process what happened. I knew it was fucked up, but I couldn’t deny it was the single most erotic moment of my young life. We never talked about it after that day, and things were never weird or awkward. Our relationship just picked up from where it had been prior to the whole encounter. Till this day, my only regret is never getting the opportunity for a repeat performance.
Some background; I played sports throughout my entire high school career and would always have problems with cramping in my hamstrings. No matter how much water I drank or how much I stretched, I couldn’t help the inevitable cramping or straining in that area. I was lucky enough to attend a more prestigious school growing up so our sports programs always had our own certified athletic trainers who would normally handle these sorts of duties.
This one particular day, this specific person had been out sick, so after the evening’s practice, our head coach stressed the importance of keeping with routine and insisted he’d meet me in the trainer’s room at my usual time. I thought nothing of it and of course I agreed.
I was already lying on the table flat on my stomach when he walked in. The first thing he asked me to do was take off my shirt, which I thought was unusual seeing as how I usually always left it on considering it was only my hamstrings getting massaged. But I did as I was told and pulled my shirt off.
He squirt some gel on the back of my legs and immediately went to work, rubbing it up and down, one hand on each leg, working it deep into the muscle. I remember it felt different than usual but not so much in a bad way, just less effective. Less massaging and more just rubbing.
After a few minutes, the biggest difference came when he started reaching up higher, his hands poking in through the bottom of my basketball shorts which were already rolled up, fingers grazing the crease of my ass cheeks. It sent a tingling sensation throughout my whole body, knowing instinctively that something was off but liking it. Not knowing how to reconcile the two. It was then when he asked me to roll onto my back. I did as he told, asking what the point of this was.
“Your core muscles work in unison with one another,” I remember him saying. “It’s important they all stay loose.”
He squirted more gel on my thighs then began rubbing them the same as he did my hamstrings. Digging his fingers in deep, slowly working his way up. I remember feeling a tingle in my nipples when, to my horror, I felt my dick move. A slight jump, the blood rushing south. I was getting hard and couldn’t have been more mortified.
I was doing everything I could to stop it; thinking all the kinds of horrible, disgusting thoughts one might conjure in up in order to stave off unwanted arousal, but it wasn’t working. I was fully hard, situation getting the best of me, and my dick started to throb in a way I couldn’t contain or hide. I knew he was going to notice, and he did. I began apologize profusely, and, as if needed to prove my own manhood, explained to him that I only liked girls.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he told me. “It’s a natural thing.” To my surprise, he pulled his hands off my thighs, this time squirting the gel on my stomach, then started rubbing my abs, obliques, working his way up my chest. Of course none of this helped my situation, my dick was throbbing wildly in my gym shorts just below. I was squirming and lightly thrusting my hips it was so uncomfortable.
“You’re gonna need to take care of that, you know,” he said to me. “I’m assuming you know how.” I nodded. I was in my teen years which means I was no stranger to jerking myself off.
“Good,” he said, pulling his hands off me. “Get to work.” He turned his back to me, walked to the sink faucet, and began washing his hands.
“I don’t understand,” I said. I didn’t. I thought there was no way he was asking me to do what I thought he was asking.
“You have to relieve yourself before we can continue, so just get it out of the way,” he instructed, tossing me the massaging gel. “It’s okay, I’ve seen it all before.”
Something about his tone was strangely reassuring, like it was all no big deal despite my extreme reservations. But I couldn’t ignore the throbbing going on, nor my own building desire, so ultimately I slid my gym shorts down to my knees, lubed myself up, and began stroking my dick.
It was uncomfortable for the first few seconds, my braining overcoming the shock of the situation, knowing it was all wrong. But that quickly passed, and soon thereafter I was jerking myself faster, the gel squishing in my hand with each stroke.
I happened to glance over and noticed he was turned back around, watching me. Lightly rubbing himself through his track pants. I stared at him as he did, hypnotized by the moment. I started rubbing my chest with my free hand, feeling myself, playing with my nipples while I kept jerking my dick.
“Let me help you,” he said, approaching me now. “Enjoy yourself.”
I felt him up beside me on the table now, his hands running up my torso softly, reaching my chest, rubbing my nipples. I couldn’t help my moan, closing my eyes. I suddenly felt on the verge of cumming and let go of my dick, trying to postpone the orgasm as much as I could.
Sensing as much, Coach immediately wrapped a hand around my dick, shushing me like a c***d.
“Breathe,” he whispered, his hand slowly beginning to stroke. “You wanna learn to control it, don’t you?”
“Mmhmm,” I managed. I started taking deep, measured breathes, composing myself as I felt him begin stroking my dick a little bit faster now, encouraging “that’s it.”
Back under control, it wasn’t long until he was jerking my cock at a quickened pace as I thrust lightly in his hand to meet his stroke. He moved forward and leaned down to spit on my dick for added lubrication when I felt his own dick press up against my hand on the side of the table, rock hard.
Without thinking about it, I reached over and grabbed it through his track pants, tracing its size, rubbing the head. I felt him thrust into my patting, and so I grabbed the top of the pants and pulled them down. His throbbing cock flicked out, just as hard as my own, already dripping with precum.
I started jerking it just as he was jerking my own, the two of us breathing heavy, trying to keep our voices down, unsure of who else might be roaming the building at the hour. To my surprise, not long after he pulled away from my hand, he lifted his dick up over the table and began jerking himself off as he came, shooting his load on my dick, using his free hand to rub his cum all over it.
Finished, he kept jerking me off with one hand and now started rubbing my chest and stomach again, stroking me faster and faster.
“Give me that fucking cum,” he said, feeling myself lose control. My cock erupted, shooting cum up in the air, all over myself uncontrollably as he pumped out every drop, still going even after I had finished.
Finally, he let go of my dick, grabbed a towel nearby, and cleaned me up before sliding my shorts back up. He pulled his own pants back up too, tossed the towel in the dirty bin, and went back to the sink to wash his hands again.
“How do you feel,” he asked. “Good,” I replied, not knowing what else to say, not lying.
“Good,” he said. “Then we’ll call it a night.”
After that, he dried his hands and walked out the room. I remember laying there trying to process what happened. I knew it was fucked up, but I couldn’t deny it was the single most erotic moment of my young life. We never talked about it after that day, and things were never weird or awkward. Our relationship just picked up from where it had been prior to the whole encounter. Till this day, my only regret is never getting the opportunity for a repeat performance.
Marisol
- 05.05.2020
- 30
- 0
