The man laying in my bed was hands down the most attractive human I had ever seen in my life. He grinned at me, exhibiting his perfect jawline and well-trimmed beard. His beautiful brown eyes and his meticulously coiffed hair beckoned me towards him.
He had huge pecs and a well-defined six pack. His biceps were huge, and so were his thighs and calves. His legs, arms, and chest were covered with a thin layer of brown hair. A trail of it led from his chest down to his bushy pubes. One arm was bent behind his head, revealing huge triceps and a nice patch of armpit hair. His only clothing, a red a jock strap, bulged away from his body. His massive package was obviously very excited to see me.
Maybe I should back up a bit. You’re probably confused. Don’t worry - there’s a perfectly good explanation for why my basketball coach, Mr. Stevenson, was lying on my bed. Let’s start about 24 hours ago, after last night’s game.
* * *
The team had just suffered our seventh defeat of the season. My teammates looked dejected and hopeless as they jogged into the locker room. I could hear the cheerleaders in the gym doing their best to keep the crowd’s spirits high. “We are proud of you! Say, we are proud of you!”
Everyone knew it was no use. A successful basketball team relies mostly on hard work and determination, but it also has to have at least a little natural talent. That is where our team lacked tremendously.
Furthermore, we were missing another aspect of a great team: a dedicated coach. Coach Stevenson was forced into the position unwillingly. The man needed the money, since he barely had enough to live in the collapsing, mouse-infested trailer home he called a house.
Coach tried to think of something to say or at least a sorry excuse for why we lost, but the man just wasn’t made to be a coach. In his opinion, he was made to jerk off in his trailer home while eating pizza and potato chips and watching Hoarders and My 600 Pound Life. He thinks the shows are amusing, which is ironic. There wasn’t a single inch of floor that was visible in his house, and Coach himself was extremely obese, probably weighing nearly 400 pounds.
Disappointed, the team hit the showers. I hated showering when it was crowded, so I fled into the gym to find my parents. They always congratulated my and told me they were proud of me, but it never felt genuine. In reality, they felt sorry for me. They wished they had the money to move to a better school with better opportunities.
We parted ways, knowing I’d see them at home. I walked back to the locker room. All the players had already left. “Yes,” I thought. “I’m free to have the shower all to myself.”
I took off my jersey, shorts, and compression underwear. I unlaced and took off my shoes then peeled off my sweaty socks. I grabbed my soap and a towel then headed into the shower area.
The warm water felt amazing. I rubbed the soap all over my my body, which I am pretty proud of. I wasn’t huge, but I was pretty muscular. I had large biceps and calves, and my pecs and abs were pretty prominent. My dick hung at five inches flaccid and my balls were about the size of plums.
Suddenly I had the feeling I was being watched, and I turned around to see eyes peeking around the corner of the shower room. Shocked and a little embarrassed, I wrapped myself in my towel and raced around the corner.
It wasn’t a girl. It wasn’t even one of my teammates. Sitting in the corner with a slice of pizza in his hand was none other than Mr. Stevenson.
I wanted to throw up knowing he had been looking at me naked. “What’s wrong with you?!” I screamed at him.
“Sorry dude,” he replied, a pepperoni falling on his rolls of fat. “Look, the real reason I can’t give good speeches is because ya’ll make me so horny and I can’t focus. You and your teammates are all so hot.”
The urge to throw up came back but I fought it off. “That’s revolting. How many times have you watched me in the shower?”
“Only like two or three times... maybe four.”
I gagged, unable to take any more of it.
“Bro I know this is weird but I need your help. You know the story about the princess and the frog?”
“Um, yeah...”
“Well I haven’t always looked like I should be a contestant on The Biggest Loser. I used to be a very muscular, attractive man, but I was cursed.”
“You really expect me to believe that?”
“Well, yeah.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Let me finish,” Coach said. “I was cursed because I cheated on my wife. I regret it everyday and hate myself for doing it. But I was turned into this: a gay, fat man. Please help me. All I want is to return to my wife.”
I pinched myself. This could not be happening. “Okay. Even if you’re telling the truth, what I am supposed to do about it?”
“Well, what does the princess do to the frog in the story?”
“NO. Absolutely not. There’s no way I’m kissing you.”
“Please man. I need my life back. You have to do this. You will benefit from it too.”
“How?” I said suddenly intrigued.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Of course you can’t.”
“Come on man. One small kiss on the lips. Please!”
Something told me that he was being honest and really needed my help. Reluctantly I stepped forward and helped Coach Stevenson up from off the ground.
We stood face to face. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I said. Then I closed my eyes and our lips connected.
I backed away quickly, wiping my mouth off with my towel. Then I watched in astonishment - it had worked.
Coach Stevenson’s clothes were suddenly gone and his body fat was disappearing. He grew skinnier and skinnier. Mountains of fat were replaced with bulging muscle. He even seemed taller. His pecs bulged outward and I could see abs forming. His tiny penis extended outward to nearly seven inches and his balls dropped and became the size of apples.
I couldn’t deny it. Within minutes, Coach has become a pretty sexy beast of a man.
“Thank you so much,” he said. He walked forward to hug me.
“Woahhhh, no I don’t think so,” I said taking a step back. “We’ve had enough physical contact and you need to put some clothes on. Now how do I benefit?”
“Oh your job isn’t quite over yet. I still need one thing from you.”
“What is it now?”
“Hmmmm, we can’t do it here. I’ll meet you at your house tomorrow.”
“Wait, no I don’t agree with that!” But Coach Stevenson was gone. He had fled into the gym, still completely naked.
* * *
I spent the whole next day waiting for Coach to arrive at my house. I could only imagine what he needed me to do.
I was in the kitchen when I heard a noise. It sounded like an elephant had walked onto a set of springs. Then I realized, something had fallen on to my mattress.
I raced downstairs and realized what that “something” was.
So now we’re back to where we started. However, I can’t explain why I thought Coach was so attractive all of a sudden. It was like I was straight one second, then entered my bedroom and become gay. It was probably the same magic that had cursed Coach and reversed it.
“How did you get in here?” I asked.
“That’s not important,” he replied, “but it’s time for stage two.”
“Stage two?” I was getting worried.
“Kissing isn’t enough to break the curse. You’ve brought me back physically but not sexually. I need to be straight again before I can return to my wife. And to do that - I have to have sex.”
I tried to run, but the door swung shut and locked. “I can’t do this. No, there has to be another way!” But something told me my words didn’t match my emotions. Deep down, I wanted this extremely badly. The huge bulge in his jock strap was calling me.
“It’s the only way. Please do this for me.”
“Okay. Fine. I’ll do it.”
I climbed on the bed and prepared to lose my virginity to my basketball coach.