Author: Melora Finite Title: A Scene From the Locker Summary: Brian's regular after-game massage takes an unexpected turn. Keywords: MM nc anal ws xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx DISCLAIMER!! ADULTS ONLY If you are not of age in your location (and you know what I mean) or if material of a graphic sexual nature offends you, turn around!!! This material was created by me, out of my head, meaning it has no basis in fact and does not resemble any work that I am aware of. This material is for reading pleasure only. Sex should happen between two of age and consenting partners. You may save this work to your computer for your own future reading but please do not reproduce it or post it somewhere with out my permission first. I will most likely let you if you ask me. With all of this said, enjoy!! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx The locker room was almost empty. All the other boys had gone home for the day, elated by the feeling of victory pumping hot in their veins. Only Brian and the team's young coached remained behind. A few weeks ago Brian had complained of muscle pain and the coach had suggested an after game massage. Originally Brian had protested, not feeling perfectly comfortable with the idea of being in such intimate contact with another man, but the coach had insisted that the rubs would help his pain and may prevent some injury. If Brian refused and hurt himself then he would be damaging the team, who could not afford to lose their best pitcher. And so under this pressure, Brian consented, afraid of letting his team down. As the coach had predicted, the after game ritual helped immenseley with his pain and as a consequence his game had improved; he was pitching better than ever. Thus, as Brian settled down onto the double wide bench that ran between two rows of lockers, naked except for a clean white towel wrapped securely about his waist, he anticipated the coming massage. The feel of his coach's strong, calloused hands was familiar and he felt comfortable in the older man's presence. The coach entered through the door on the far side of the locker room, out of sight behind the looming structures, and came to kneel by Brian's side as he did after every game. Brian lay comfortable on his stomach, his arms folded above his head as if he were sunning on a beach, his face nestled into a fresh folded towel. His eyes flickered open as his coach crouched next to him and congratualed him on the game. His coach was young, in his late twenties or early thirties, and had shaggy black hair that swept across his face and half hiding his bright hazel eyes. He wored his sideburns about half way down the side of his face and there was an light, even distribution of facial hair across the rest of his chin. Altogether he was very striking in appearance, and many a girl had swooned at his feet over his broad shoulders and miniscule waistline alone. Right now he wore a grey cotton t-shirt that fit rather snuggly around his chest and a plain pair of blue jeans. Nothing fancy at these games. He and Brian discussed tactics, the other team's performance, upcoming drills the coach was thinking about. Over all Brian felt completely relaxed and self-satisfied as the coach worked him over, kneading first his taught lower back and then working his way up to the bulging shoulders. Brian rolled over and lay with his eyes closed while his coach worked on him, starting from the shoulders this time and working his way down. Once, accidentally Brian was sure, the coach's finger tips grazed Brian's sensitive nipple and there was a brief pause in their talk. But the coach kept up his constant massage and the conversation picked up immidiately, the moment passed as if it never were. Brian's nipples stood erect although it was not at all cold in the humid locker room. Now the coach was rubbing the muscles just below Brian's belly button and just above his hips, his fingers occassionally slipping underneath the very top of Brian's towel. The coach fell quiet, intent, as Brian thought, on his work. "You know Brian," the coach spoke again, breaking the silence. "I want to start working on a new area today. I know you'd mentioned some inner thigh pain that I thought we may alleviate..." casually, swiftly, before Brian could protest the coach had opened Brian's towel, revealing his cock to the hot air and cold fleurescent light. It was cut, slightly larger than average perhaps, and well formed. Sprouting from a neatly trimmed mat of blonde pubic hair, it was altogether an impressive specimen. Brian felt a flush of shame at being exposed before his coach. His cock twitch slightly. He prayed the coach wouldn't notice. And it appeared that he hadn't. He set to work, first by spreading Brian's legs apart slightly so that he could reach his hand inside and thouroughly rub the warm, soft inside of the muscled thigh nearest him. Although baseball wasn't an endurance sport, the coach kept his team in good shape. And then the coach was rubbing around the cock, massaging gently with his fingers, squeezing it's base and feeling the blood rush through the skin beneath his hand. He took the hardening cock in his hand, squeezing softly, reverently. "It's ok for me to touch you, you know," he said softly, with another squeeze. He heard Brian's breath, fast and hot in his throat. He looked into Brian's big grey eyes, drinking in the boy's beautiful thin lips, his softly curled blond hair, his flushed face. Brian lay still, not knowing what to do. It felt so good, but Brian felt disgusted with himself and a little scared. But when his coach stroked his cock again, softly, Brian could not bite back the moan that fled his lips. Now his coach took him in two hands, one on top of the other, and began to stroke his cock up and down, paying particular attention to the head. Despite Brian's desperate commands for his cock to stay down, his erection grew with each deft stroke of the older man's hands. His hips rose off of the bench towards his coach, begging him silently to stop but unable to intervene. He tried to sit up but the coach's hand pressed him down firmly onto the bench again and moved swiftly to grasp Brian's hard nipples. He moaned again, as the coach tugged on it slightly. Now the strokes were coming faster and faster, his erection rock hard and throbbing in the older man's hand, and finally he shot his hot load, much to his shame. Inwardly he was burning. The coach held up his hand, covered in Brian's hot juice, and examined it for a moment before wiping it on Brian's towel. "You know," he said softly, "you can touch me there too if you want to..." He took Brian's hand and placed it on top of the hard lump in his crotch. Brian could feel it pulse even underneath the jeans. He squeezed Brian's hand around it an moaned, the dropped Brian's hand and scambled to unzip his pants and whip his dick out. It protruded from his jeans, already as hard as the wooden bench Brian was lying on. Once more he lifted Brian's hand and placed it on his cock. With horror Brian realized he had started jerking his coach off. His movements were automatic, lacked the older man's grace and sensitivity, but none the less. He wasn't gay. This was unspeakably detestable. Why couldn't he stop himself? The coach moaned, a bead of precum forming at the tip of his hot cock. Suddenly he knocked Brian's hand away and hastily yanked olff his jeans and his black boxer briefs. Once again Brian lamely tried to sit up but his coach pushed him down more forcefully this time and swung one leg over the bench. He was now straddling Brian's head, the tip of his penis hovered just above Brian's face. "Suck it," he whispered softly, and with that he squatted so that Brian had little choice but to accept the throbing member into his soft mouth. "Oohhh yeah..." his coach breathed. He leaned down and braced himself against the bench beyond Brian's head, allowing him more control, and thrust his cock deep into Brian's throat. Brian was too terrified to do anything but give in. His coach gave orders; Brian obeyed. He could not bring himself to do otherwise now, even though what he was being forced to do repelled him. Besides, he was so ashamed he just wanted the experience to be over with. He knew he could never tell anyone. He knew the coach knew it too. He gagged on the invading rod at that thought, but his coach persisted, fucking his mouth more frantically now. Suddenly he came, thrusting his cock as deeply into Brian's throat as he could so that Brian's nose was nestled in his thick black hair, forcing the boy to swallow his cum or choke. "Ahhhh..." The coach shook with the force of his orgasm and emptied himself into the boy below him. He was still hard when he pulled out of Brian's mouth. "Good boy," the coach said, stroking his hair affectionately as. "Good boy." Brian was still too scared and disgusted with himself to move or respond. He just watched his coach with wide eyes, his breath ragged, his mouth hot and bruised. "Now," his coach grabbed Brian's now limp cock and resumed stroking it once more. "Come with me." He grabbed Brian by the hand and pulled him through the locker bay to the showers. Brian stood naked and trembling, making no sound. To his utter horror his cock began to swell slightly once more. His coach took him by the head, pushing him down onto his knees and firmly pulling his head towards his cock again, still naked and hard. Brian opened his mouth and sucked on it this time, with very little guidance although his coach still kept his fingers tightly wrapped in his soft blond tresses. Suddenly, he pulled Brians head off of him, tilting it back so that he could look into the boy's eyes. "I'm going to wash you now, to make you clean and ready for me," he said solemnely, releasing his grip on Brians hair and grasping one of the extendable shower heads. Brian was still on his knees, his arms hanging limply at his side. The coach walked around behind him and commanded him to get on all fours. When he hesitated, he was brutally shoved onto the ground. His coach ran the water so that it was luke warm and removed the broad head so that only the nozzle remained and then bent down and washed Brian's asshole, rubbing in circles with his finger. And then, without warning, he rammed the nozzle into the boy's tight ass. Brian screamed at the invasion but that was nothing compared to the feeling of his bowels filling up with water. He howled in pain and sobbed, begged his coach to stop, tried to pull away but the stronger man held him still. Finally the coach turned off the water, without removing the nozzle from the boy's asshole. Ths acted as a stopper and the coach watched for a few moments as Brian sobbed and writhed in agaony. Miraculously, Brian's cock was semi hard. The coach squeezed his firm balls in his hand and then reached around and grabbed his cock., stroking it once, before taking his hand and positioning his penis right behind Brian's ass. And then in one smooth motion he withdrew the hose and plunged his stiff cock back in the former's place. This was a pain like none other Brian had ever experienced. His ass was on fire, filled both with the large cock and as much water as it could hold. His asshole tore slightly and the coach moaned as he sunk his penis in. As he began to fuck the boy's tight ass he reached around and grabbed his cock. Each thrust corresponded with a jerk, so that as his fucking grew more desperate and speedy so did the jerking. And finally the coach penetrated deeply enough so that he began to hit the boy's prostate. With each slam of his cock into Brian's ass, the boys screams came to resemble moans more and more. His dick grew harder in the coach's hand. The coach was riding his ass hard now, pounding in and out mercilessly. The boy was still crying but he could not smother his arousal despite the pain and shame. Each time his coach slammed into him he felt a jolt of pleasure. Now the coach released his cock and grabbed him by the waist with both hands, frantically using his ass and moaning wettly. "ahhhhhh... yessssss... yeah.... your ass is so sweet boy," he hissed. "ahhhh!!!" He screamed at the last, jerking the boy off with one hand and pulling him onto his thick cock with the other. He held his last thrust deep inside Brian's ass, trembling as he came hard, pushing slightly at each convulsion of ecstasy. As his prostate was massaged hard, Brian came too, and screamed as he did it, his back rigidly arched. His coach's hand squeezed every last drop out of his cock, before collapsing ontop of him without removing himself from Brian's ass, panting. Finally, with a wet pop, he pulled his cock out and all the water and cum gushed out onto the tile floor. Brian let out a sob and collapsed onto the floor, a little blood mixing in with the water and rushing away down a nearby drain. His coach left him there for a second. When he returned he had Brian's towel in hand and had dried off his cock. He now tossed it carelessly onto the sobbing boy's back. "Clean up." He said coldly. He walked back to the bench, pulled his pants on, and paused before heading out of the locker room door to look back at the boy, still sprawled on the floor, breathign hard through his tears. "See you next game" The coach smiled cruelly and the door swung shut behind him, leaving Brian alone.