It didn't take long for Chuck to get close to blowing his load. Coach Stout felt the load building and began to eagerly swallow. Chuck pulled out and began to paint the slut's face with his goo. After more than a few ropes of cum covered his face, Chuck grunted at him, "Alright, get out of here."
Without saying anything, Dave got up and left the house.
After a couple of taps and clicks, the remnants of the load Chuck shot disappeared from the floor and the glass cleared from the kitchen as the window went back to normal.
Chuck laughed to himself as he thought of the inner turmoil that Dave was going to go through. Chuck had made sure that Cole liked nothing more than walking around in as little as possible, jerking off, and teasing his slutty father. He made the teen a bit of a brat when off the field making sure that he would leave plenty of messes for his father and coach to clean up around the house.
Dave made his way back to the house and was surprised to find his son sitting in the middle of the living room bareassed and lazily stroking it to a video on his phone. Dave blushed with the realization that his son was witnessing his walk of shame.
He walked back to his bathroom and washed the slowly drying spunk from his face and mustache savoring what he could scoop into his needy mouth. When Dave walked out of the bathroom, he noticed that on his bed there was a damp jockstrap. The C.S. on the strap made him realize that his son had thrown it there after he'd gotten home.
Dave picked up the garment and was about to toss it in the hamper when he suddenly found himself bringing the used support to his nose.
He took a long shuddering huff and then went and locked his door. He dropped his pants and quickly undid the cage he now wore when out and about.
Dave flopped back on his bed and began to eagerly pump at his pole feeling his dick gushing pre at the mere scent of his son's sweaty cock. He found that he wanted more so he reached over on to his bedside table and found the line and the dildo that he kept for moments like this.
He soon found himself on his back, his legs spread wide, his right hand working his cock and his left pistoning the silicone rod in and out of his needy hole ass the pouch of his son's athletic support draped over his head. He was lost in that manic, slutty haze until he felt is dick tense and he began to shoot spurt after spurt of cum over himself and his bed. "Ugh Cole!" He moaned.
Breathing heavily, he realized he had gooned out to his son's musky jock for over an hour.
Dave pulled the jock, now soaked with his own sweat and spit off his face and looked at himself in the mirror that sat on top of his dresser. He looked used, spent, and tired. He looked like a slut.
His memories of a semi-normal life still rattled around in the back of his head but his thoughts of sex with other men, his own hours of masturbation and his lust for his own son were so much stronger, so much more real. He was a coach, he was a dad, but underneath it all he was a whore whose mind shut down at the very notion of sex.
He took a nap and when he woke up he saw that Cole had texted him.
"Hey dad, seeing how you're busy stroking it to my sweaty jock, I'm taking the car and going to hang out with some of the guys from school."
Beneath message was a picture of the lanyard Dave used to hold his car keys wrapped around his son's hard cock.
Dave felt his spent cock try to rise again at the sight of it but he instead dropped the phone and got cleaned up.
In the living room, he noticed that Cole had shot a wad on the couch and not bothered to clean it up. It almost sent him over the edge again but instead he just got a paper towel and cleaned the dried bits he couldn't slurp up with his tongue.
Then he set himself to work in the kitchen. It's never too early to meal prep and between his coaching and his "extracurriculars" he didn't know when he'd have the time to get everything ready for the week.