Ryan realized that coach's clipboard was now tilted to conceal the
boner tenting his shorts. To Ryan's horror, he felt the coach's hand
between the clipboard and shorts. He knew the coach was going to
masturbate as he watched the hot sweaty teenage boys exercising in
front of him. It was a hot day, and at least half the guys were
shirtless. Ryan could taste the salt, but fortunately, Vlad didn't
blow his load. After what seemed like an eternity, the bell rang, and
Coach Patrick blew his whistle. The kids all ran for the showers. At
last only Coach Patrick was left on the field. Coach Vlad trotted down
from the bleachers. He came up behind Patrick and goosed him.
Coach Patrick laughed and looked over his shoulder.
"Vlad, you want to play Twilight?"
"Sure thing, Bella!"
Ryan wanted to stick his index finger in his mouth. The last thing he
wanted to witness was two middle aged guys having sex with each other.
The next thing Ryan knew he was tucked under Vlad's hairy balls,
staring down the underside of Vlad's erect cock heading toward Coach
Patrick's hairy ass and puckered rosebud.
EW!
Plunge, slosh. Oh, ah, oh, ah. Ryan felt nauseous.
"Bite my neck, again!"
SNAP.
Vlad pops his jockstrap pouch back over his slime covered dick. Ryan
initially wants to vomit, but instead he finds himself absorbing the
strangely delicious juices. He find the experience of imbibing Vlad's
manjuice and Patrick's buttjuice exhilarating. He cannot help himself.
He feels safe and secure and happy wrapped around Vlad's softening
manhoood. He feels at home. It's good not to be in the bin anymore.
Ryan drifts off.
It's like waking with a hangover, thinks Ryan. It's dark, warm and
damp. He cannot move, but he feels good. Coach Vlad must have worn
his jockstrap to bed. Ryan can hear the soft roar of blood pumping,
and the slow heart beat of the sleeping coach. It was dark. There was
nothing to do, but think. So Ryan concentrated on how he might be able
to get out of this mess. His head ached. There just has to be away
out of this.