After showering with Jeff on Friday morning, I put on the tight green coaching shorts Mitchell had recommended and went to my office with a brimming hard on to wait for practice to begin so that when Mitchell told me it was time, I could (briefly) suck and (quickly) fuck Landen, my senior QB
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I've got to hand it to Landen. He showed up for practice Friday morning wearing typical jock practice gear, but somehow looking better to me than he ever had. The cut off jersey showing off his tight abs and killer golden blond treasure trail had been an inspiration. The other thing was that he followed the instructions he'd been given to a T. Jeff had texted him the night before and told him to expect 'QT with Coach in his office during a.m. practice' the next day and to 'bring lube. See Mitchell 1st thing for details & keep your fucking mouth shut about this." Landen brought lube and he sought Mitchell out early the next morning. The two of them had been the first to arrive. Still, in an abundance of caution, Mitchell pulled Landen into the cramped equipment room to be sure they could talk privately if some other over achievers got there early.
"Congrats, stud," Mitchell said (perhaps sarcastically) to the 'ass wipe' QB, "It's your lucky fucking day. Don't fuck it up, and you'll get invited to a very special party Sunday night. Here's the drill for practice: Coach is going to show you some game film he wants you to see, in his office, as soon as everyone else takes the practice field. I'm hanging back, too, just to make sure no one approaches the door, even though Coach will lock the door once you're alone. This is gonna have to be real fucking quick, Landen, so don't expect anything today except Coach's big hard dick straight up your ass as soon as the door is locked. Coach flipping the lock is your cue to drop your shorts and bend over Coach's desk. There's no time for small talk, foreplay or any other bullshit like that. Now, do you want Coach to use a condom or not? He's cool either way."
"Bareback," Landen replied. "Hey Mitchell, thanks a ton, bro. Um, I didn't know we had so much in common, you know, and I gotta say when I saw you in the shower yesterday I was fucking blown away...like, fuck, dude, if you'd ever like to have some fun together—"
Mitchell bit his tongue to keep from telling Landen that he doubted he (Landen) had even known his name before yesterday. Instead, he asked the QB, "You're hard, aren't you?"
"Fuck yeah I'm hard," Landen admitted, laughing. "I've had a boner since Jeff texted me last night."
"Can I see it?" Mitchell asked, curious about how he would compare to Finn. Landen's woody would give him another useful reference point for Jeff. With Mitchell making his hook up with Coach happen, and with Landen all lathered up over his huge ginger cock, there was zero chance Landen, who wouldn't have pissed on him if he'd been on fire before yesterday afternoon's post practice shower, wouldn't do just about anything Mitchell asked him to do that morning, including blow him in the locker room with the whole team gathered around.
By way of an answer, Landen simply pulled his gym shorts down and freed his stiff cock from his jockstrap. "You mind?" Mitchell asked, gesturing with his hand.
"Go ahead," Landen replied, grinning. "Please." Mitchell grabbed Landen's rock-hard cock in the middle, pleasantly surprised by its girth.
"Fucking nice dick, dude," Mitchell heard himself saying to his embarrassment. Worse, he could feel his own cock stiffening, and he didn't want to give the arrogant senior that satisfaction. "Mind if I um—"
"Whatever you want," Landen assured him as his cock throbbed in Mitchell's hand. Mitchell did exactly what he wanted, which was to roll Landen' mesmerizing fore skin down his shaft, off the head, then pull it back up, roll it back down, pull it back up... Mitchell was already planning to advance his next jack off session...there wasn't any reason he couldn't crank one out while he was guarding Coach's door.
"You think I could get another look at your killer cock?" Landen asked.
"No problem," Mitchell said, yanking his shorts and jock down to about mid-thigh. His dick was already above half-mast and rising.
"Goddamn," Landen whispered in awe. He was normally one to grab what he wanted and ask questions later, but he had noted Mitchell's exceptional manners, and decided that might be a better way to proceed. "Would it be OK with you, if l—"
"Sure," Mitchell replied, beginning to think maybe Landen might not be as big a jerk as he'd thought. After all, Jeff liked him a lot so he must not be that bad. Landen moaned when he took Mitchell's huge cock in his hand, still not fully hard, though getting close.
"It's still early," Landen observed. "I could give you a quick hand job if you want."
"Might as well," Mitchell said drily, smiling on the inside. "Otherwise I'm just going to have to do it myself." Landen spit into his hand and went to work. By the time he'd finished, he'd secured an almost promise from the team's manager to fuck him long and hard Sunday night, assuming he didn't fuck up his invitation to whatever they were planning. For his part, the manger was thinking that the QB might be a pretty good, if over eager, guy after all.
"Say, have you and you Coach, you know, um, been together?" Landen asked as Mitchell was stowing his freshly relieved equipment.
"I can't talk about that," Mitchell said evenly, "just like you can't talk about whatever happens in Coach's office in a few minutes."
I could barely get through morning announcements, dismissing the team to the field, before off handedly adding that I wanted to go over some film with the QB, and asking Mick, my no. 1 assistant, to take charge of practice for a few minutes. "Hey Mitchell, set up the projector, would you?" I felt like I'd just announced to the entire locker room that I was about to butt fuck Landen in my office, and I'd rejoin them just as soon as I'd nutted in the QB's golden, hairy ass, but the team (except for Landen) broke and charged down the hill as if I'd said nothing unusual. 'Well, of course Coach has to butt fuck Landen before he can actually start coaching,' I imagined all of them thinking as they ran to the field.
Mitchell had briefed me as thoroughly as he'd briefed Landen. For some strange reason Landen had brought his own lube (as if I didn't have special hot teenaged jock lube squirreled away in the office where student athletes absolutely could NOT be fucked in the ass, at least not before that day), and I didn't need to worry about using a rubber. The critical thing Mitchell had stressed, apart from time, was that me closing the door and locking it would be Landen's signal to drop his shorts and bend over my desk. There was zero ambiguity in the situation and no need to say a word, he'd assured me, "just fuck him, he wants it more than you can imagine, and he knows you're both on the clock."
I arranged myself casually perched on the corner of my desk, the boner struggling to get out of my tight green shorts all too obvious, and waited for my QB to report. It wasn't a long wait. Suddenly Landen was standing in my doorway, rapping with his knuckles on my open door, his inspired cut off jersey showing off his tanned six pack and treasure trail. His erection was even more prominent than my own. "You wanted to see me, Coach?"
