Mitchell and Dewey were laughing and drinking beer in the hot tub when Jeff and I returned. I was glad they felt at home enough to help themselves to my beer, recognizing that providing beer to what I thought were a couple of 17-year-old ass fuckers was the least of my worries. "Hey Dewey, can I have a quick word with you?" I asked. Dewey popped straight out of the hot tub, showing off a big, fat, aroused but not quite hard cock. I dropped my towel to put him (more) at ease. We huddled together out of ear shot from Jeff and Mitchell.
"That was kind of an awkward introduction we had earlier," I began, "but you were fucking awesome and, um...Jeff tells me you've got plans tonight, so, look, I just wanted to say to you, if you're interested in...the two of us, ah, spending some more time together...either with these guys or not...I mean, I know you're probably here...like for Jeff or Mitchell but..." Dewey took our two cocks and squeezed them together tightly in both of his hands.
"...then I'd really like that..." I continued, after gulping. There's nothing quite as promising as having your hard cock squeezed into the stiffening cock of a hot jock, you're into and feeling him get fully hard against your boner, and you can feel the pulsing of both dicks.
"Count me in, Coach, for anything you have in mind," Dewey said quietly. "I do have to go now, but I was waiting to kiss you goodnight and ask you if we can get together again real soon." Dewey was hard again, his thick cock throbbing against my hard on. He closed his eyes, opened his mouth and met me in an electric kiss. "Those two studs over there in the hot tub, I've got some more business with them, too, but as far as I'm concerned they can take a backseat to you, Coach...you're why I'm here...and I'm sorry I let our first time go down the way it did...that was completely disrespectful."
"Forget it, Dewey," I said breathlessly, "if I'd known you were here the exact same thing would've happened, except we probably would've kissed first," We kissed again, a long, hot kiss, until Dewey finally broke off again. He looked down at our straining cocks, let go of them with one hand while still holding us firmly together, and with his free index finger smeared some of the precum leaking out of my dick all over the heads of both our cocks. Then he stuck his finger into his mouth.
"Mmm...I'm sorry but I really gotta go, Coach...if I weren't so fucking late already, I'd bend over and beg you to fuck me right now..." Dewey said, preempting the very suggestion I'd just been about to make. I doubted I would've delayed him by more than three minutes, but I didn't press the issue. He yelled a farewell to the guys in the hot tub, dressed hurriedly inside, and gave me another quick kiss goodbye.
"Tomorrow," I said. Mitchell would have to tell me when tomorrow, but it was going to be tomorrow.
"Fuck yeah," Dewey said, and then was gone.
"No, no, no, just wait," Mitchell was saying to Jeff when I returned to the hot tub, "I get the logistics problem, but I don't understand what the ultimate goal is...I really need to work backwards from that."
"Cool, hold that thought," Jeff replied, then said to me as I was about to climb in with them, "whatever was going on over there between you and Dewey was just about the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen that didn't involve me."
"Yeah it was, but hold that thought," I said to Jeff, but Mitchell interrupted me before I could say to him what I'd planned to say.
"Whoa, Coach, hold up," Mitchell said. "Is that precum oozing out of your beautiful boner? Because, if it is, I sure would like to lick it off before you waste it in here. I fucking love precum, but I never, or almost never produce any myself."
"Probably because you masturbate too much," Jeff chimed in. "If you're cranking it a lot, it's a known fact that your dick isn't as eager to fuck, so it just skips that step." That reeked to me of total bullshit, covered with an ever so slight patina of plausibility.
"Really? Hmm," Mitchell replied. "Well, that could be it then because I do jack off all the fucking time." That kid was full of surprises.
"Have at it, sport," I said, sticking my oozing boner in Mitchell's face. He gobbled it up, licked me clean, squeezed out a few last drops and licked them up. When he'd released my unit with a "Thanks, Coach," I climbed into the hot tub and sat between my boys. Then I turned to Mitchell and said, "I haven't spent nearly the amount of time with you today as I'd hoped to." I kissed Mitchell as deep and long as Dewey and I had just kissed, my hand finding and closing around his very hard and very large cock underwater.
"That's OK, Coach," Mitchell said, "I know you're spread kind of thin. That's why I'm staying over tonight...but, um, easy on my dick, OK? I don't think any of us have a spare load to blow underwater...well, Jeff might..."
"Jeff might," Jeff agreed, "but let's not test it until we know how much fucking we've got ahead of us, which is one reason I called on you for your logistical expertise. So, before I tell you 'the ultimate goal' that you're going to be counting backwards from, you need to know the fictional assumption looming just behind that 'ultimate goal,' which is that, come Monday morning, Coach is suddenly going to retire, if not from coaching, then from fucking me, you and his other favorite student athletes, like forever. Now, now, I know that's as fucking preposterous as it sounds, that you're no more likely to accept that than I am, which is not at all, but that's the fictional assumption that, um, compresses our calendar...
"But accepting that assumption," Jeff continued, "just for the sake of argument, or really for the sake of avoiding an argument with Coach, our 'ultimate goal' is to give Coach, on Sunday afternoon or evening, his deepest, darkest, secretest desire, which is to have half a dozen prime high school jocks pull a train on him—"
"Half a dozen?" Mitchell asked, wide eyed. "You, me, Dewey...Landen? Landen...who else have you got? Do they all have to be football players...or managers...because I could probably get a fucking stud baseball player...that's still just five, though...Sam, maybe, but I'd really rather not..."
"Simple," Jeff said, "Alex."
"You're shitting me, Alex is a homo?" Mitchell asked in disbelief. "That fucking stud muffin? I'm pretty sure Alex is straight, bro."
"You didn't believe Dewey was a homo, either," Jeff pointed out smugly.
"Yeah, but now I've seen that shit with my own eyes," Mitchell said. "Alex though? I dunno..."
"I've got it on good authority from a dude who's been exchanging bodily fluids with Alex all summer," Jeff said, still smiling smugly.
"Dewey," Mitchell guessed, "that fucking homo. So those two have been sneaking around all summer, being queer together without letting any other homos know they're potentially available. Goddammit, I could've fucked that guy back in the spring, but the vibe wasn't...didn't feel...quite right...and I dropped it."
"Dude, no telling how many other homos you'd have uncovered and attracted to your bright flame if you'd only been showering with the team since, like when two a days started. Fuck, since last season. Alex'd probably be your bitch by now."
"But you don't know if Alex will be queer with us, let alone boink Coach with a bunch of guys watching?" Mitchell asked, still skeptical.
"Have I asked him, no," Jeff said, "but he will. Dewey owes me at least one shot with Alex. Alex will come through for ME, anyway, and Dewey and I can convince him to do the group thing if that's an issue...besides, all those other hot homos, except for maybe you, aren't going to just be standing around beating their meats waiting for their turn...
"...Let's say there are six of us and you're pounding Coach first," Jeff continued, "which is NOT going to happen, by the way, you going first - that's just an example - that means there's me and four other big swinging dicks, or three other big swinging dicks plus Alex, for me to suck while we wait, and those dudes are going to be sucking cock and ass, too. No self-respecting homo is going to turn down that cock cornucopia, I don't care how fucking shy he is. So, don't worry about Alex. Assuming he doesn't flub his audition by taking a dump on my chest, he'll be there. But we still don't know shit about your supposed baseball player..."
