"Where are we going to make hay, Coach?" my new tight end asked me, ready for me to fuck him 'like he needed to be fucked,' as I'd just promised him, I was going to do.
"Wherever you want, stud," I replied.
"This'll probably sound kind of funny," he said, "but I don't get to fuck guys in a bed very often, like almost never...and, needless to say, my ass has never gotten fucked in a bed before." Jeff's ass had gotten fucked precisely once before, an hour or so earlier, by me, and not in a bed but against the wall in the locker room showers after football practice. The hung 18-yea-old had fucked me twice since then, the second time giving me the ass fucking of my life. He deserved some special attention from his coach.
"What about girls?" I asked. "I mean, do you ever get to fuck them in a bed?"
"Still it's usually the car," he replied, "but I'm really not into chicks...I mean, you know, I have to fuck a chick every now and then to keep up appearances, but...it's not the same...not even close. Fucking dudes isn't just some 'phase' for me."
"No, I fucking get all of that," I replied, thinking of all the cars, alleys and woods where I'd done most of my pre college ass fucking, and of the occasional chick I'd nail solely for appearances, so my buddies wouldn't think I was a fucking homo. The thought that Jeff wasn't as queer to his core as I am to mine, that he was merely experimenting, or going through some ass fucking 'phase,' had never crossed my mind. It was evident to me that he was an all-star queer, with nothing but upside in the coming years.
"You know, I was thinking," Jeff said, a little shyly, "and this might sound kind of weird, too, but I really am into role playing...I know, no punishment, not tonight, anyway, I get it that's not really your thing...but I was thinking of another game we could play, though...like, since I'm going to be here until Monday, it might be kind of cool if we could pretend, you know, that we're a real couple...like we're in love or some shit like that...I mean, just pretend, if you don't mind too much...but it's cool if you think that's juvenile or—"
"Shh," I hushed him, holding his face between my hands, looking into his dark green eyes, "You're the most desirable and exciting man I've ever been with...and I'm not pretending or exaggerating when I say that." I kissed him hungrily then, exploring his mouth anew with my tongue and welcoming his into mine.
"C'mon, I'm going to show you how men in love make love." I led Jeff back inside and to my bedroom, gently pushing him down onto my king size bed and diving on top of him. Whatever it was that was going on between us was way more than lust, bigger than a crush...was at least infatuation...and I couldn't rule out something even more significant.
I thought that the 'game' Jeff had just suggested we play meant that at a minimum, he wanted to 'pretend' this growing thing between us was something bigger than an extended hook up. But I believed it probably meant more than that, that he wanted cover for saying some things about his feelings. I sure as fuck wanted to believe the latter.
"So, it's OK, I mean you won't freak out, if I say some mushy queer shit like, 'I love you, Coach,' just pretend, you know?" We were rolling around on the bed together by that point, grinding our aroused junk together, and I was even hungrier for him then than I'd been before he'd basically forced me to fuck him in the showers.
"Of course not," I replied, "the rules of the game require that. Try it out, see if it feels better than a spanking." I knew for a fact hearing that, however 'pretend' the words might be, would make me feel a whole lot better than spanking him possibly could.
"Um, OK, here goes," Jeff said, screwing up his courage. "Um...Coach, I...uh...think...I'm falling in love with you."
"Jeff, I'm certain I'm falling in love with you," I answered him truthfully, although I didn't tell Jeff that I wasn't pretending. If it made him more comfortable to express 'pretend' feelings, I wasn't going to rock that boat.
"Um, Coach, do men in love eat each other's asses?" he asked faux innocently. "You eating mine in the showers was so fucking hot."
"They do," I replied, "but the shower was just a tasting. That position you assumed on the bench just before we left the school? That would be perfect right now."
"Coach?" Jeff asked as he tucked his feet (almost) behind his ears and clasped the backs of his thighs with his hands, "Have you ever, um, been in a relationship with another dude, I mean, you know, had a boyfriend, a guy you ever said 'I love you' to and meant it?"
"Sure," I replied while inserting a lubed finger into his perfect hole.
"Like lived together?" he asked.
"Exactly like that," I said, laughing
"Are you going to tell me about him, like what happened between you guys?"
"Nope," I said, sliding my finger in and out, getting ready to dive in tongue first. I had no intention of talking about my last partner, a subject that was still too painful for me to discuss after nearly a year. Jeff may have agreed to spill his guts to me about every dirty little thing he'd done with his buds (and I wanted to hear every delicious detail), but I had made no similar promise. I wasn't going there.
"Coach?" he asked, interrupting my imminent dive into his crack. "I think you'd have to tell your boyfriend, I mean, if you were serious about him, like we're supposed to be pretending we are, about your last boyfriend...you know, I'm just trying to make the game more realistic, but if you don't want to play, I mean..."
If Jeff said anything else about my former partner or the rules of our game, I didn't hear it because my face was buried in his exposed crack and I was hungrily lapping him up from the top of his crack to his taint to his big swinging ball sack, then sucking those big hen eggs of his into my mouth and working them over. By that point whatever words that had been coming out of Jeff's mouth had been replaced by moans of pleasure.
