Jody, the Team, and the Navy
By: Kenneth Kirk
(© 2018 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

kkirk@tickiestories.us

Chapter 12

The address Coach Jordan had written on the back of his card was a two-story row house on the end of a red brick building containing six houses.  All the trees and shrubs looked very young and I wondered how long he had lived here.  My Timex showed I was 13 minutes early, which was due to my excitement, no doubt, so I sat in the car.  After a couple of minutes, I saw Coach’s door open to reveal him standing there looking out at me.  He grinned and waved for me to come on in, so I got out and walked up the concrete walkway.

When I was ten or twelve feet away from him, I stopped to allow my mind to take a picture of him looking so very hot as he stood there in a faded Tar Heels tee shirt that hugged his big chest and hung over the waistband of a very short pair of body-hugging coach’s shorts that seemed to be reaching out to me.  His legs were very long, covered in pale brown hair, and shapely in a very masculine way.  His bare feet looked huge, but not out of proportion to his 6’3” frame.  He smiled and tilted his head questioningly.  After a second, he laughed and said in his deep voice, “Get in here, hot stuff!”

I was pleased at him calling me “hot stuff” since I had tried to look as sexy as possible for him tonight.  It was a cool evening, so I had chosen my tightest tan-colored Levi’s and an olive-green woven shirt with a Henley collar and a row of about six buttons extending a couple of inches below my sternum.  Since I left the buttons open, the shirt managed to cling to my abs and pecs while simultaneously giving a provocative glimpse of the curves of my pecs and the hair that covered my torso.  Len and Micky had told me it was a very sexy shirt on me.  

Coach blocked the doorway until I almost walked into him.  At the last moment he stepped back so I could proceed into the house.  As I passed in front of him at the vestibule, he whispered in a low, almost guttural voice, “Damn, boy, you look fucking gorgeous!”

I grinned and walked into his living room, knowing he was watching my plump derriere in my tight jeans as I moved across the entryway.   

Only a second passed before I felt his hands grasp my shoulders followed by his torso leaning gently into my back and buttocks.  In the same voice, he whispered into my hair, “I’ve got to have your amazing ass.”

I leaned the back of my head into his chest.  “And I’ve got to have your amazing cock.”

An arm slipped around my waist as he began humping his erection into my waistline.  He leaned down until his lips could reach my ear, where the hot breaths of his moans drove straight through my ear canal into my overheated brain, where his breath was interpreted by my brain as instructions to pump blood into my own cock.

Coach’s hands met at my belt buckle where they worked as a team to open my belt and drag it out of my jeans.  He tugged on my waistband and at least five buttons on the fly popped open.  In a flash, he had my jeans around my knees, ripped my briefs down, too, and was pressing his palms against my butt cheeks.  “Oh, God, they’re so firm,” he mumbled.  “So smooth and hairy at the same time.”  He pushed me forward a step until my upper thighs encountered the low back of an overstuffed chair.  One arm wrapped around my waist while the other arm went to the middle of my back, high, just below my neck.  The hand on my back exerted pressure until I bent at the waist so my upper body fell forward, my groin against the crown of the chairback and my torso stretching down over the seatback.  I dropped my arms so I could support my body by holding the chair’s arms. 

No sooner had I settled into a stable position sprawled over the chairback than I felt hot breath at the center of my back just above the swelling of my butt cheeks.  I gasped.  The patch of hair there was wiggling from Coach’s kisses, sending strong impulses through my nervous system and turning me on even more.  “Yes!” I moaned.  Next, he licked downward from this point on my spine.  With a very light touch he kissed and licked along the edge of my butt crack, sending shivers of response through my body.  I moaned louder and longer.  As his kisses traveled along this groove in my flesh, he stayed at the outer edge of my cheeks several inches from the love line that separates my buttocks.  Nevertheless, his heaving hot breath tickled down into the deepest part of this crevice as he kissed slowly above it.  I twitched and whimpered.  My cock released a dollop of organic lubricant onto the chairback.

Thanks to Blake, I knew something of the pleasure a tongue can bring to my asshole.  It was not possible to imagine the Coach doing that to me, but all the indications were that this was his intention.  My mind rejected the idea as too unrealistic.  He wouldn’t go that far; I just knew it. 

Without hesitation he moved further down along the curve of my cheeks, licking gently the sides of both cheeks and torturing me with his hot breath.  My moans morphed into individual groans that followed each other with only a quick intake of breath between them.  When I could feel Coach’s breath caressing my hole like a Santa Ana wind, I almost passed out.  “Ooooh!” I wailed.  His kiss moved lower, closer to nirvana while, involuntarily, I held my breath.  When his big hands drew my buns apart, I gasped and when his heavy lips touched my quivering sphincter, I cried out, “Oh, my god!”  His tongue licked lovingly at my hole as my cock drooled and I cried from the extreme emotion.  When his tongue pressed into my sphincter, I yelled out, “Oh!  Yeeeees!”

Coach gave me an even longer and deeper tongue-fucking than Blake had before.  Over and over I gasped for breath as he ate me out.  He packed just the right amount of power into his tongue as it moved around and around while simultaneously charging and retreating in the most sensory-packed way.  My asshole was on fire, which caused my throbbing cock to release blobs of precum.  Slowly he was getting slightly deeper as my hole relaxed, opening wider to welcome his fabulous tongue, to allow it to do anything and everything it wanted to do.  He seemed to have all night for his feast for he was persistent in tonguing my hole without stopping.

Subtly and without announcement, he introduced the first knuckle of his middle finger into my body alongside his still-plunging tongue.  “Oh, yes!” I groaned as my cock burped out more of its sticky liquid.  The finger worked in concert with the tongue, but it gradually pushed in deeper until it was penetrating my rectum beyond my sphincter.  “Fuck!” I exclaimed.  Coach’s index finger joined its mate and together they edged out the tongue.  I hardly noticed because the two fingers were fucking my hole with even more power than the tongue.  The plundering of my body had advanced a step from gentle, loving, and relaxing to pushing, stretching, and preparing.  “Fuck, yeah!”  Somehow, without the fingers leaving my hole, even for an instant, lube began flowing in around the fingers, making everything feel cold but squishy for a few seconds until my boiling asshole cooked the grease to its fiery temperature.  Without the tongue in the way, the two fingers entered me deeper than before.  They plunged in like Siamese-twin mini-dicks, repeatedly fucking and twirling within me.  In moments they zeroed in on my prostate, separating inside me enough that each finger could rub sensuously along the different sides of my supersensitive gland.  “Oh!” I wailed with every push along my prostate.  “Fuck!  Fuck!  Fuck!”  My cock throbbed and leaked continuously.

A third finger wormed in and then a fourth.  “Oh!  Unh!”  I gasped as my cock throbbed and my ass twitched.  When all four had been working and stretching me for a couple of minutes, Coach began pulling the fingers apart, forcing my weakened sphincter to stretch out, creating a larger diameter opening in my guts.  This was the first bit of pain I had experienced since the beginning, but the level of pain was much lower than the level of pleasure I was also getting.  After a few seconds, the pain dissipated as I concentrated on relaxing my interior muscles completely.

“Please,” I begged, “I need your cock!”

His fingers pulled at my asshole.  “You want my cock?”

“Oh, yes, please!” I screamed into the chair.

“Where do you want it?”

“I want you to fuck me with it.  Please!”

“Are you ready for it?”

“Fuck, yeah!” I cried.

“Okay,” he grunted, pulling his fingers quickly from my rectum.  A few seconds passed and then his cockhead kissed my waiting hole.  He paused for a second and then pushed on, stretching my sphincter until I thought it would split, but his thick dick slid right in, surprisingly easily.  I worried that I would split open and I held my breath as I waited for the intense pain.  It felt huge sliding down into me, but my hole kept opening as it passed in deeper.  I felt momentary shock as inch after inch of my insides yielded to his powerful push.  I moaned loudly throughout my penetration, rising in both pitch and volume as the invasion went deeper.  It seemed to take several minutes for the entire nine inches of gargantuan dick to flow in, but eventually he reached his depth.

He held still and rubbed my back and butt.  “You’ve done great, Jody.  You’ve taken it all!”

“Ooooooh!” I moaned in a high tenor register.

“You are really tight,” he whispered.  “And so warm and wet.  You feel so good!”

“Oooh!”

“Are you ready to get fucked good, baby?”

“Ooooh, yeah!” I moaned.

Coach Jordan pulled most of his inches out of my clutching rectum and then pushed it all in again.  He did this a few hundred times to give my raging prostate miles of sexy rubbing that drove my sexual tension ever higher.  Our grunts and moans didn’t remain staccato for long as they melded into a continuous cacophony of whimpering man-sounds.  He pounded me across the chairback for almost ten minutes before he stopped.  Keeping his giant prong buried deeply in my butt, he leaned over my smaller body and grasped my arms.  Leaning back, he lifted me into an almost vertical position which caused his turgid shaft to press hard against my battered prostate.  “Ooooh!” I groaned as the pressure sent lovely sensations through my nervous system.

“I don’t want to cum yet,” he explained.  “Let’s move to the bedroom.”

“Anywhere,” I panted, “as long as you keep fucking me.”

He chuckled.  “That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”

“Um,” I agreed.

“Unfortunately, I need to pull out while we relocate.”

“Damn!” I bitched as he backed away from me, pulling inch after agonizing inch out of my hole.

Quickly we climbed the stairs and dashed into the master bedroom, dropping our clothing along the way as we could extract ourselves.  When we got into the bedroom, Coach ripped the covers off the bed and commanded, “On your back!”

I planted my back in the middle of the queen-sized bed and he crawled towards the bottom end of the bed, lifting my legs and positioning himself with his red and swollen cock pointed at my red and swollen asshole.  He squirted a couple of dollops of lube on his cock, pushed my legs back over my torso, and mounted me quickly.  He seemed as hard as ever and I was soon drooling precum at an impressive rate, gasping for breath as he rammed his bat as far as it would go. 

In many ways I preferred being entered from behind, doggy style, because I felt I could push back to make a bigger contribution to the action, which ordinarily I enjoyed.  It also seemed that tops could usually pound harder in that position.  But I also had a strong preference for the missionary position.  For one thing, it allowed good access for either partner to serve the cock of the bottom and seemed a position in which I never had trouble cumming.  More importantly, though, I could see the face of my top and watch the expressions on his face.  I found this very erotic and usually compensation enough for the slightly lower force of the fucks I was thrown. 

Coach continued pounding into me as if he was trying to put his whole body up my chute.  To my delight, he looked me in the eye and held my gaze as he gave me one powerful thrust after another.  The look on his face told me he was having a spectacular time and that he liked me a lot.  It also told me he was working hard to keep from cumming, which was okay by me because I knew the longer he held off the stronger the eventual explosion would be.  It was very important to me that he have the best time I could possibly give him because I wanted him to come back often for more.

After a few minutes, he leaned over me, which changed the angle of his thrusts enough to reduce the stimulation my prostate was receiving.  As our faces came closer, his eyes grew larger and more intense as he stared into mine.  He paused in his movement with his face about a foot above mine.  God, he looked so delicious, I felt my tongue lick my lips.  He seemed to consider something briefly before he brought his face down to mine to kiss me on the lips.  It was a gentle, hello sort of kiss for about two seconds, but then he sighed and pressed his face to mine, opening his mouth to allow his tongue to worm its way between my lips.  Soon his tongue was fucking my mouth as vigorously as his hard cock was fucking my asshole.  I was lost in some kind of blissful place connected to reality but at the same time far better than reality.

I received his tongue in my mouth as I received his cock in my hole: happily and enthusiastically. For several minutes we maintained this duel connection, at face and groin, as Coach pounded us both into that zone where you desperately need to cum but seem unable to cross the barrier.  When we both were in that place, Coach slowed down slightly as if trying to hold us there indefinitely.  I was loving every second of this most fantastic fuck from this incredible man, but I was becoming more and more fixated on bringing us to conclusion and reaching the incredible reward we both deserved.

Finally, I took control as much as I could.  I began clamping my hole every time Coach’s dick stopped at the deep end of his stroke.  By speeding up my clamping rhythm I brought him with me into a faster-paced fuck which lifted us over that barrier in a minute or so.  I went over the barrier first by a millisecond.  I clamped very tightly as shots of heavy sperm from my swollen cockhead started bathing both our torsos with my sticky jizz.  Spurred on by my orgasm, my hole clamped his dick like there would be no tomorrow.  That brought him over the barrier, too, and he shot seven or eight big wads into my hole as I was shooting on us.  Our screams seemed very loud to me.  I hoped none of the neighbors heard that and thought we were killing each other.

A few minutes later, his softened cock (still long and thick, incidentally) slithered out of my ass.  He took me into the bathroom where we each peed and then we took a shower together to rinse all the cum off and refresh us a bit.  With towels around our midsections we moved downstairs to the living room where we each had a Budweiser.

To be continued...

Posted: 03/12/2021