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“All right folks, settle down please,” my request might have been ignored by the class were it not balanced by my deep, booming baritone. It was always a challenge trying to keep the kids thinking of me as a trusted approachable confidante while continuing to command their respect as an authority figure. Luckily I had an advantage in the commanding department, standing at least a head above most of them at my full 6’6’’ height, and weighing double what they did with 230 pounds of solid muscle, due to my addiction to the weight room and my years of athletics, first as a student wrestler, then as coach of the high school team. I knew from personal experience that the coaches and trainers who got the best results were the ones who could still do everything they asked their team to do. There was also the possibility that I kept myself ripped and rock hard so I could keep up with the young firm fuckers who I met on the weekends at the gay clubs in the city an hour away, but we’ll get to that later. Not surprisingly, the lunchroom full of teens responded exactly as I expected, transforming from a swarm of squealing, socializing, self-obsessed psychos into seated, silent, smiling students.
“For those of you who are new to the school or have selective summer amnesia from too much sun and daytime tv,” my joke got a few laughs and some eye rolls, just as it did every year. “this is senior seminar and I am your wise and wonderful leader, Coach Adams. Over the next few months, we’ll be meeting here every morning with one goal in mind. Any idea what that goal is…Ben Stone?”
Ben was co-captain of my wrestling squad, easily one of the most popular kids in the school, and the consummate player. He’d gotten under the blouses and into the panties of most of the girls in the room and probably a couple dozen junior and sophomores. He was also known to cut class, make only enough effort to maintain his athletic eligibility and convince his adoring fans to do his papers for him. Usually I had no reason to call him out on his shit since he was one of the most enthusiastic athletes I knew, but I didn’t fuck around when it came to this class. Thus he was so caught up in texting under the small fold out desktop connected to his chair in the second row of the lecture hall that he hadn’t noticed me coming closer until I was right next to him, collecting his phone and clasping my hand on his shoulder. His slouched posture, splayed legs and half-lidded eyes suddenly morphed in front of the entire class until he was the definition of attentive. Still it was too late to figure out what I’d asked him, so he just stammered and looked more and more freaked until I was sure the rest of the class saw how serious I was.
“The one goal of this class: for each and every senior graduates with good grades, good test scores and goes on to a great university.” After a decade of running this course, I knew I could deliver everything I just explained, and more. Since senior seminar was instituted at Regent Academy, the dropout rate was practically nonexistent, the collective GPA of the graduating classes was a 3.8, 97% of grads went on to receive degrees from four year universities, and many of them earned scholarships and entry into the Ivy League. What began as a class designed to catch the kids who were slipping through the cracks, had grown into a required course for every senior at Regent. The program was so successful other schools were paying top dollar for us to set up similar seminars, while national education programs were writing articles and essay about it in journals and textbooks. So, yeah, I was pretty sure I’d have no trouble doing it again for these kids.
When the bell sounded for passing period, the 70 kids lined up and headed out with my signature verifying that they’d each signed up for a weekly session with our college counselor, 4 or more test prep sessions with teachers from various departments at the school, and 2 or more extra-curricular activities that they could put on their college résumés. As each kid passed, I shook his or her hand and offered congratulations on taking the first step towards a college degree. 70 hands later, I waved to the last girl out the door and turned back to my desk, not expecting to see a tall handsome young man still standing by the extra-curricular sign up forms at my desk. He must have been new, because I made it my business to know every senior by the first day of seminar, and there was no way I’d somehow missed a cute piece of meat like him.
“I don’t know if they had bells at which ever school you used to go to,” I said, walking over and stacking the many papers on my desk. “but at this school it means it is time to haul ass to your next class. You can come back and get your form signed by me after school, just hurry off before you end up being late on your first day. Not the best way to make a first impression.”
“You’re right about that sir,” the boy said, smiling at me, causing my cock to twitch beneath my khakis. It was a good thing I wore my tightest jock today. “I do owe you an apology for being late this morning.”
“Since I didn’t even notice you coming in late, we’ll call it even. Now hurry up or you’ll be apologizing to your next teacher too.” Walking to the door and opening it, I was stunned to look back and see him chuckling while taking his messenger bag off and dropping it onto the chair opposite mine. Cute or not, this kid needed a reality check if he thought I was joking, especially when I’d spent the past hour lecturing on the responsibility he’d be taking on in my class. “Maybe I’m not being clear enough. Either you get out of my class and into your next one or I’ll have you sent straight back to where ever you learned that it is okay to ignore your teachers.”
“Actually, I’m the one who wasn’t clear,” the boy responded, obviously trying not to laugh, which made my temper flair and my Dick stiffen. “I’m not apologizing for being late to class.”
“Watch it Kid!” My voice got louder and deeper and I felt my face getting red as I crossed to him and prepared to drag him out of the room, if necessary.
“I’m apologizing for being late to work,” his words stopped me dead, just as my hand reached out to grab his firm, muscular arm. “I’m not a student Coach Adams. I’m Andrew Macintosh, your intern for the year.”
After we had a good laugh about my mistaking him for a student, Andrew and I sat down so we could get to know one another. Currently in his first year of a master in education program at CSU, Andrew was new to the area and excited to get started as my intern. Maybe I was used to seeing teachers go back to school for their masters or maybe it was the fact he’d graduated college at 19, but either way I couldn’t get over how young he looked, and I wondered how the kids would ever take him seriously if he was only 2 years older than they were. That’s why when He tried to convince me to refer to him as Andy, I insisted he go by Mr. Macintosh in front of the students. We ended up compromising and agreeing I’d call him Mr. Mac. As for me, it had been so long since I’d gone by anything other than Coach that I told him I’d probably ignore anyone who called me by my real name.
“Coach it is then.” There was that smile again. Even in my smallest jockstrap I could feel my Dick throbbing and leaking against my leg. Thank God he couldn’t see under the desk. “So coach, what’s next on the agenda? What classes will I be helping you with this year?”
“Well that’s a good question, cause you just sat through one of the two classes I teach all day,” Mac’s surprise was clear on his face, so I decided I’d better explain.
………………
When I first started at Regent, all I knew how to do was wrestle and coach wrestling. Since you can’t major in heavyweight wrestling positions, I’d floated through college from major to major until my senior year when I looked at what credits I had and realized the only major that offered me any chance of completing the requirements before I aged out of my athletic scholarship was English. After medaling at a couple wrestling tournaments and making the Olympic team as an alternate, I had big dreams of opening a gym where I’d coach young guys who wanted to be competitive wrestlers. Even with a degree and my credentials, no bank was going to loan me the money to start a gym, so I started looking for work that would allow me to save enough on my own. I tried personal training, private security, even modeling for a while, but everything I tried that was steady didn’t paid well enough to let me support myself and save for my gym, and I couldn’t rely on booking the jobs that paid bank.
That was when a customer at the gym where I trained recognized me from my college wrestling days. Turns out I’d kicked his ass at every match, and he’d kept an eye on my career from my exhibition matches to my Olympic try, but lost track of me ever since. After he discovered I was working odd jobs, he asked me to go for a drink and discuss my dream of opening a gym. We drank until my tongue got loose and I admitted to doing to modeling for some men’s underwear catalogues, which he asked if he could see. Back at my apartment I reluctantly pulled out the proofs of the catalogue and pretty soon we were joking about how little I had to cover my big uncut Dick. Before I could say no, he said he wanted to wrestle me again and told me to strip down.
This guy might have been in my weight class in school, but as he pulled off the oxford shirt and crisp grey wool slacks he’d worn that day to his investment firm, it was obvious he’d kept in shape, but no longer had the musculature he’d need to take me on. Still, I was drunk and in the closet and he was hot as hell, so we stripped to our jocks and I got out a mat I used for working out. Just as I thought, I had him pinned in seconds every time. When the fifth ‘match’ began, he almost got me in a choke hold because I’d lost focus due to his jock-clad cock pressing against my butt. Instinct kicked in and I accidentally went 100% for a second, flipping him over me in the air and wrapping my legs around his head. Realizing I was choking out the first and only potential investor in my gym, I loosened my legs and started to pull away, but stopped when he grabbed my thighs, leaned forward and sucked my semi-hard Dick through the flimsy white Bike jock. Moaning, I spread my legs and let him wriggle free so he could uncover my cock and suck it for real. In minutes, I was balls deep inside him, breeding his ass on the floor, and listening to him admit that he’d fantasized about me since the first time he saw me in my singlet.
When he left that night around midnight, with three loads up inside his hole, he set up a time for us to meet at his office the next day. Imagine my surprise when I walked in and was greeted by pictures of him with his wife and young son. All business, he explained to me that the only way a bank would ever give me the loan was if I got a steady job and held it down for a few years. Crushed, I let him suck me off on his plush leather sofa, and left with no clue what I could do to convince a bank I was trust worthy. A week passed before I was approached at the gym by another man who explained that my investment banker friend was also a friend of his and he had some possible work for me.
Unsuspecting and figuring there was no way a married man would share what had happened between the two of us, I met this guy at his house so he could look at my résumé and as it turned out, he was a recruiter for some major business firms. When he mentioned that our mutual friend had told him I’d spent some time modeling for underwear catalogues, he told me he had to see them to be sure nothing I’d photographed would come back to disqualify me from a position at one of the firms. This led quickly to asking me for a live show and soon I was sliding my Dick in his was while he bent over his kitchen table and begged for me to breed him. When I went to leave that night he apologized for wasting my time and told me I didn’t have enough experience to work for any of the companies he recruited for. Crushed again, I almost ran into a young guy as he let himself into the house.
Looking panicked, the man thanked me for the training session and insisted he’d see me for another one sometime when his son wasn’t just coming home from wrestling practice. Scarred and shocked that he would have me fuck him with his son possibly catching us at any moment, I stammered some hello and good bye and ran out as fast as I could. A few days later at the gym, I saw the teen pointing me out to someone and the two of them heading my way. Frozen with fear, I prepared for the guy to arrest me for god-knows-what, even though I’d done nothing illegal. Instead I was pleasantly surprised when the teen introduced himself again and explained that the man with him was the athletic director from his school.
When his son almost caught the two of us, his dad had quickly made up the fact I was his trainer, but he must have had to explain more because his son told me that his Dad explained that I had been a nationally ranked wrestler and when he told the athletic director at his school, the man insisted on meeting me. Turns out the wrestling team was currently coached by an over-zealous father who’d been all state in wrestling years earlier. This made him an expert, even though the team had zero wins all season and some of the kids were transferring to different private academies in order to be on a team where they might win. After I verified my history and accolades, the athletic director invited me to come to a practice the next day and see if I might be willing to coach the kids.
It probably took me 5 minutes before the inept techniques and out of date practices of the volunteer coach forced me to laugh. 5 minutes more and I was yelling out corrections for his stupid directions. 2 more minutes and I had half the team watching as I demonstrated the proper hold positions. Turning beet red, the father got in my face and started yelling profanities telling me he would kick my ass for this. Instead I offered to wrestle him to see which one of us was more suited to coach the team. Looking at the athletic director to get some support, the dad got even angrier when the man threw up his hands and told us to go for it.
Stripping off his shirt and sucking in his gut, he did some stretches and began trash talking me. He was promising a world of hurt and a hospital stay, until I stripped off my own shirt and shorts, revealing my Olympic singlet. He got very pale as we got into the first position, and I think he whimpered when the bell sounded. Fastest pin I’d ever made. I asked him if he wanted a rematch, and he just shook his head and left.
That same night, the AD of the school explained that the only way he could hire me as a paid coach was if I could work in some way on the academic side too. For the third time in the past few weeks, I felt empty, knowing there was practically nothing I could offer. But before I could leave, the man asked me what my degree was in. When I said English, he smiled and said I could teach remedial English as a visiting lecturer, and in the mean time, the school would pay for me to take the necessary classes to complete my teaching certificate.
2 years later I celebrated my 25th birthday by receiving my teaching certificate in front of my all-state wrestling champion team.

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Posted

Part 2
Please be aware, this story contains drug use, bareback sex and questionable morals. So keep reading if you like perverted stuff like me.

If you were wondering, I hadn’t included any of the sex stuff when I told this story to Mac. Most of the stuff before I began teaching I skimmed over all together, because it wasn’t until I was teaching full time that I realized I didn’t really want to open a gym anymore anyway. Sure, now I had a steady job that paid REALLY well, but I also had the opportunity to work with great kids who wanted to be great wrestlers, and none of the hassle of owning my own business and paying off a bank. The only downside to my job was the actual Job.
I was a remedial English teacher who hated teaching remedial English. Most of the time I was in the classroom was spent counting the minutes until I could be back in the gym coaching. Once wrestling season was over, I would get so depressed about my job that I started drinking and sneaking into the city to go to gay clubs and meet men to fuck. It was one such trip into town that I met Darius, a big muscular black guy who was not my type at all, but that didn’t stop him. After many rejections, Darius started introducing me to friends of his that were just what I liked: Tall, trim or muscular young men with masculine demeanors, bubble butts and cute boyish smiles. Since I was unable to take men back to my place, (after all it was nearly an hour away) and most of the boys Darius introduced me to were in the closet or living at home, the only option was heading back to Darius’ house and fucking around there.
Once or twice I said no, but usually I was drunk, horny and hungry to fuck and ended up pounding some sweet 20ish ass on Darius’ guest bed while he watched and jerked off. No one has ever called me an idiot and I knew almost immediately that Darius was a drug dealer and these boys were customers who he’d get high in exchange for seducing me. When I let it slip to him that I knew what was going on, he got much more open about smoking and snorting stuff right in front of me. I’d always been a good boy when it came to drugs, but it did make me wonder every time I watched some guy sniff a bump of coke or take a hit from a crystal pipe, and suddenly he was desperate to be fucked or begging to suck Dick.
I’d decided I’d stop going back to Darius place at the beginning of summer vacation, gathering all my courage to say no if he asked me to meet another boy that weekend. Arriving at the club, I was certain in my ability to walk away until I saw who walked in with Darius. Blinking to clear my vision and make sure I wasn’t hallucinating, I looked again and my jaw fell open. If this was a hallucination, it was the most bizarre hallucination I’d ever heard of. The boy at the side of my drug dealing pseudo friend was none other than one of my former wrestling students. The same wrestling student who’s father was coach of the team when I started.
Tim was his name, and I hadn’t seen him since the end of last year when he finished his junior year and left to attend a school here in Denver where his Dad’s business had transferred him. Only standing about 5’9”, Tim looked tiny next to Darius’ 6’1” form. What his baggy t-shirt and sagging jeans didn’t reveal was his ripped muscular body that he’d used to make his way to the top of the pack in his weight pack. Even when paired with kids who were 3, 4, or even 5 inches taller than he was, Tim could wrestle them to the floor with his powerful core muscles and quick, strong legs.
Part of me felt sick that Tim was now following a drug dealer around a gay club, obviously high on something, but another part of me was drawn to the pair of men. I told myself I would just go over to make sure Tim was okay, but I knew as I got closer there was something else I wanted to know.
“Shit!” Tim tripped over the stool next to him when he saw me standing next to them and turned to book it. Unable to catch himself, I reached out and grabbed his hand before he reached the floor, and pulled him upright again, not letting go in case he decided to run again. “How did you know I was here coach? Please don’t tell my dad, he’ll kill me.”
“’Coach’ had no idea you was here Timmy boy,” Darius jumped in, emphasizing my title so I knew he was now aware of what I did. “Your pal ‘coach’ comes here all the time to pound butt just like the rest of us, Right ‘coach?’”
I didn’t answer but my silence spoke volumes. Tim’s eyes got even bigger as he began insisting there was no way I’m gay, that I was the straightest guy he’d ever met, etc. Looking up at his wide eyes, his pupils were so big they looked like black pools with just a tiny bit of blue around the edge. My heart sank as I confirmed that Tim was there so Darius would get him high, but as much as I wanted to insist he go home, I couldn’t get the words out. I just stood there, gripping Tim’s fore arm until I realized Darius was suggesting we head back to his place to hang out and catch up.
“No, I think I should drive Tim to his house and have a talk with his Dad.” I didn’t believe the words even as I said them, and as Tim begged me not to, I saw Darius smirk and wink at me just when Tim cried out “don’t tell my dad, I’ll do anything.”
At Darius apartment, I kept repeating the mantra in my head “you’re only here to keep an eye on Tim, you’re only here to keep an eye on Tim, you’re only here…” I lost my train of thought as Tim began describing his glory days wrestling, and pulled off his shirt and jeans in order to demonstrate. I’d never considered messing around with a student before, but technically Tim wasn’t my student, he hadn’t been one for over a year, and now he was not even in high school. Yea they were all excuses for what I wanted to do, but I couldn’t stop my cock from getting hard watching Tim act out the match where he medaled at his last meet.
It took every last ounce of control I had to stay on the couch where I was watching, instead of jumping up, ripping the white boxer briefs and wife beater from the teen’s muscular body, and raping him over and over without even a thought about whether Darius or Tim might tell anyone. The only thing stopping me was one tiny voice saying “he’s one of your students.” As if he could hear the voice, Darius leaned in to me and spoke quietly so only I could hear him.
“Why don’t you take a hit off this pipe and let go for once?” Looking down he was holding a glass bubble pipe in front of me with a lighter. Closing my eyes, I shook my head no and dug my fingers into the arm of the couch to keep from screaming. “That’s cool, You don’t need to try it for it to have an effect on you. Watch this, Hey Timmy, wanna hit?”
My eyes popped open as Tim paused his story and looked over at me like he needed to know what to do. I should have said no, made him get dressed and driven him home, but I was silent.
“’s cool T-boy, I told coach you’ve already smoked a couple bowls tonight, he don’t judge,” Darius lied to Tim when he said he’d already told me, but I figured as much and I certainly knew now. Once again Tim looked at me and smiled, unsure if he should. I opened my mouth to tell him he was just a kid and not to do it.
“You’re a man now Tim, do what you want,” My ears heard my voice saying it, but I didn’t honestly believe it until Tim smiled, stood up, walked over and took the pipe from Darius. Pulling his undershirt up from the bottom, he used it to wipe the sweat from his neck and face before peeling it further until it went over his head. Standing with his crotch right in front of my face, Tim lit the torch and started melting the crystals in the light blue glass pipe. As if it was happening in slow motion, he put his lips to the pipe and started inhaling the curling white wisps of smoke. My body burned hotter as his chest expanded, pushing out his muscular pecks, framed by the shirt that was now only attached around his shoulders. Ashamed, my focus lowered, making me notice the trail of downy fuzz leading from just below his sternum. The hair thickened, darkening and moving out slightly as it spread down between his expanded ab muscles, suddenly spreading sideways just as it disappeared under the waist band of his fruit of the look boxer briefs. He must have had no more room inside to continue inhaling, causing him to cough. Each spasm of his cough meant tightening his six pack as his lungs were forcing out and releasing the cloud of Tina into the room.
“Light it for yo’ coach Timmy, he wants to try suckin da pipe too,” Darius smirked at me, knowing I was losing my resolve and wouldn’t be able to say no much longer. I’d surprise him, I decided, turning to Tim to tell my former student I wasn’t into drugs.
“You’ve never tried it?” Tim sank to his knees on the floor in front of me, leaning in with the pipe in his hands.
“No and I don’t-“ I managed to get out that much before Tim smiled and cut me off.
“Let me show you Coach,” he insisted, starting the torch again and moving to melt the crystals. “I want to teach you something after all you’ve taught me.”
Possessed by the words of this handsome, eager young man, I nodded yes and let him explain how to melt the crystals, rotate the bowl, and wait for the smoke to billow. Hypnotized, I could only go along with it when he told me to lean forward and inhale. As soon as my lips met the pipe, I felt the smoke filling my mouth, throat and lungs, but my eyes couldn’t stop looking at the sweaty, nearly naked boy who was feeding me the first hit of drugs I’d ever had. Surprisingly it was much cleaner than hitting a marijuana pipe or a cigar, I wasn’t even sure I was getting any until I exhaled and a huge blast of white filled the air between Tim and I.
“Wow, it’s huge Coach,” Tim’s voice made my cock ache and my head spin. We passed the pipe between the three of us, with Darius insisting Tim sit between me and him. The couch was small enough that we had no other choice but to be in contact with each other the entire time. I tried not to look when Darius would slide his hands over Tim’s bare tight or squeeze the boy bulge, and it almost drove me insane watching Tim from the corner of my eye when he’d assumed I was too focused on taking a hit to notice him tweak Darius’ nipple or stroke the obvious snake running down his thigh.
“damn it’s hot as balls in her bro.” Darius stood up and peeled away his sweat soaked white tee and tight black jeans so all he had on was a pair of orange briefs tenting obscenely. “You should strip down and get cool bro.”
“nah man, thanks.” I was embarrassed by the fact that standing up would have revealed how hard I was, but more than that, I knew I had worn only a jockstrap under my pants that night, and the pouch was nothing more than some see-through mesh.
“your funeral dude,” Darius turned his attention to Tim, taking his barely covered Dick in his hand and waving it at the teen. “I gotta piss and grab us a couple coronas, but when I get back, it gonna be time for yo’ ass to pay me back fo’ smokin’ you out.”
“Dream on Darius! No way am I gonna let you fuck my virgin pass with that thing,” Tim called after the dealer as he rounded the corner and walked down the hall into the bathroom. “Sorry Coach.”
“For what?” was he sorry because he wasn’t going to let me take his virginity? Did he think he could stop me if I did what I knew I had to do? Was he apologizing because he knew it was gonna be his fault?
“You know, I said…fuck.” Tim lowered his voice when he repeated his four-letter faux pas. Feeling it bubble up from my stomach, I couldn’t stop it as it worked up my throat and into my mouth, bursting out of me. Yep I lost control and laughed as hard as I could ever remember crying. “what? What are you laughing at? What?!?!”
“You… you’re apolo… you’re apologizing for saying fuck,” I laughed hard again, but got control and took a couple deep breaths. “You’re apologizing for a bad word coming out of your mouth when I just watched you engage in underage drinking at a club, get half naked at a strange dude’s apartment, smoke meth in your underwear, and grope a big black cock in exchange for drugs. I think we’re past needing to apologize for swearing.”
We both laughed hard for a few minutes until we actually laughed hard enough that we both slid off the couch onto the floor. Without thinking, I stood up to get back on the couch and I heard Tim stop laughing and mutter something like ‘whoa.’ Looking down I stopped laughing too when I realized what made him stop. I was standing over his head and my crotch was so pushed out that the waist band of my shorts had pulled away from my abs, leaving a space where Tim could see all the way up my shorts’ leg and out the space at my waist. Whether or not there was enough light shining through for him to actually make out my cock, I couldn’t tell. It really didn’t matter though since the shape of my head was clearly visible against the outside of the shorts’ material. Uncomfortable with the silence, I sat back down and tried to turn on the TV with the remotes on the table next to me. After a few failed times I gave up, tossed them into the arm chair across the room and reached instead for the pipe. Lighting the torch, I took a big hit and exhaled just as Tim got up and was once again standing with his crotch in front of my face, only now it was beginning to grow hard.
“Can I take a hit coach?” I looked up and met his eyes and held out the pipe. He took a big hit and handed it back to me. I started to hit it again as Tim slid a hand into his undies and masturbated his teen cock. “You must be dying from the heat coach, you can get comfortable if you want, it’s just us guys here, just like in the locker room. Nothing wrong with just letting it all hang out.”
With that, Tim pulled his hand free, placed his fingers on either side of his waist and shoved his boxer briefs down to his feet. As he returned to standing up straight, I coughed and sputtered out smoke at the sight of his hard, cut 6 inch boycock. A drop of precut was hanging at the tip, and I wanted so badly to lean forward and lick it off, but I was too busy turning crimson and choking on smoke. Tim grabbed the pipe from my hands and sat down next to me, patting my back. When I finally stopped coughing and felt like I might not die after all, I looked over at Tim who was taking a hit himself.
Rising to my feet, I started by unbuttoning my shirt until it hung open over my abs and massive pectoral muscles. Next I kicked off my shoes, and toed off my socks. Tim reached forward to touch my chest as I went to unbutton my shorts, but I grabbed his hand and slowly forced it down by his side, reminding him that we were just a couple of guys letting it hang out. Picking up the pipe, I told him to light the torch under it while my free hand undid my button and opened my fly. Spreading my legs so the shorts would stay on, I took the lighter and rook a hit from the pipe. When there was finally no more room in my body for even a hint of smoke, I exhaled. Just as the giant cloud reach Tim’s face, I relaxed my legs and butt enough that my shorts lost their grip and slid to my feet. When the smoke cleared my hard Dick was jutting straight out in my jockstrap about and inch from Tim’s face.
“Holy shit coach,” Tim whispered. “it’s… it’s … it’s fucking huge.”
“I’m gonna keep hitting this but when I finish this bowl, I won’t be responsible for what happens.” My voice had become unrecognizable to my ears, as if the Tina was talking instead. Deep and harsh, the words were made even more terrifying by the fact that I was unable to stop the monster that was planning to turn them from a threat into reality. “It’s all your fault Tim, Remember that.”

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Part 3
Don't read this if ur not into party drugs, drug use, bareback sex, immoral behavior, or anything taboo. Otherwise, enjoy!
Darius must have been confused when he came in. He’d been gone for only a few minutes but the scene he’d left was no where to be found. What had replaced it was a giant beast of a man, plowing his heavy uncut meat into the tight, tortured asshole of a teenage wrestler who was waaaaaaaaay over his head. Tim might have been begging for this creature to stop, but his mouth was full of jockstrap and his hands were tied behind his back with his own undershirt. Tears were streaming down his cheeks into the dirty carpet, and I couldn’t have cared less. Looking up at the nude black Adonis in front of me I opened my mouth and accepted his cock into my gullet and down past my tonsils. Occasionally Tim would wiggle, trying to escape the fucking he’d brought upon himself, and if I’d been in control I might have been able to let him go, but the Tina was in charge now, and all I could do was watch and pity the boy as my body destroyed him.
“Fuck yeah coach, swallow my jizz.” Darius screamed as he filled me with my first black load. Most went down my throat to feed the Tina monster, but some bubbled up and out between the sides of his cock and my tightly stretched lips. When he finally pulled his spent Dick free of my suckling hungry hole, I could tell the monster had something it needed to say.
“You made me do this Tim,” the voice erupted from my own throat. “Now take what you wanted. Take it all. TAKE ALL MY CUM!!!!!!”
The next thing I knew I came to on top of Tim’s body. He shook softly, crying but trying to stay quiet so as not to wake the beast. Horrified at what I’d done, I pulled my spent, cum soaked pens from his gaping, torn asshole, and pulled the gag from his mouth, asking if he was alright. He looked at me like I was no longer the beloved coach he’d trusted and befriended. Now he only saw me as a host for the nasty, raw, destructive madman that ruined his virgin boy butt. I needed to make him see that it wasn’t me, it was the drugs and the desire. He had to know that I’d never hurt him like that.
“little bitch came all over my rug while you was breedin’ his pussy,” Darius drew my attention to where Tim’s Dick had been trapped between his body and the floor. Sure enough, a puddle of white sperm had collected. Looking at his crotch, it was obvious he’d cum a lot, since it ran from his belly button down through his small patch of pubs and all over his hips, balls, and cock. I took the shredded boxer briefs from where I’d dropped them after I ripped them off his calves before spreading his legs and…
“Fuck I’m sorry Tim,” I used the torn fabric to wipe him clean. “Are you okay?”
“Just untie my hands okay, please.” His voice was low and submissive. His cock was hardening in my hands while I cleaned him, but his face showed how ashamed it made him. I agreed to untie him, helping him up onto his knees so he could turn around. Now that he could hide his hardening 18 year old Dick, He would feel less embarrassed while I let him loose. Still unstable, he lost his balance and thrust one knee out onto the couch so he wouldn’t fall. Reaching out to steady him, I looked at where I grabbed him and realized his butt cheeks were spread and his puffy aggravated hole was exposed.
With one finger I reached closer and brush the hole, making his butt spasm, forcing a thick drop of my cum out. My cock twitched and I felt the drugs taking hold again. Whispering things like ‘it’s okay’ and ‘just relax,’ I took the undies in my hand and gently swept them over his cheeks and hole, cleaning him up and making him relax.
“Damn this boy wants more!” Darius exclaimed, reaching out and pushing Tim’s hard cock back so it hung between his legs below his hole. My meat was almost fully hard again.
“No I don’t Darius. Just untie me Coach, I can’t control it.” Tim begged, looking back over his shoulder as I stood up until my steely penis was wedged between his smooth teen thighs. “Please Coach, I don’t want to get hard, I have no control over my body.”
“Then you understand why I can’t stop what I’m about to do to you.” Tim screamed as my cock plowed all the way in again. It was going to be a long night.
…………….
“So after I found out one of my former athletes had dropped out of school and got hooked on drugs, I created senior seminar to make sure they had a future.” I hadn’t told Mac any of the sexual stuff or the fact that Tim didn’t quit school until after he spent a weekend getting gangbanged by me and a bunch of guys Darius lined up. All he heard was my dream to start a gym leading to a job at the school, where I hated teaching English and eventually created this class to provide something more worth while to the kids. “These days I only teach the seminar and a junior level test prep course. That way I can focus on creating great students and great athletes and never letting one of my kids end up at the mercy of some drugged up pervert ever again.”
“who was that?” Mac asked me, and I realized I had said too much.
“Nobody, just an example.” I smiled and changed the subject to see what sports Mac liked to play. Thank goodness for seminar and some random boys in Denver. I’d been able to keep all the graduates from meeting the monster inside me as long as they were sent to college far away. As for the boys I used in their place, they were all druggy sluts anyway, so it was already too late for them once I let the beast loose. Speaking of the beast, my cock was telling me it’d been far too long since I’d gotten high and used some unsuspecting young hole for my pleasure. It hardened as I remembered the last man, who’s face turned into Mac’s when I realized I’d totally forgotten we were talking.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I asked hoping he hadn’t noticed my hand stroking my Dick through my pocket.
“I said I always wanted to try wrestling, maybe you can show me some moves sometime?” smiling his million dollar smile at me again stirred something I knew I needed to avoid. The rest of the day, everytime I closed my eyes, all I saw was Mac’s smile as my Dick tore open his sweet 20 yr old ass. The beast was tired of sluts. I just hoped I could control it until Mac was gone, because I didn’t see him taking it as well as Tim had, especially since Mac was engaged to a girl back home

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