08 May 2009

I Love You Coach

A victorious young pugilist celebrates with his beloved coach. This is entirely innocent but, at the same time, I sense a little frisson of something here. I was recently reading another blogger's recollection about his high school wrestling days and remembered I had this series put aside to post.

I was the stereotypical skinny kid in elementary school, but I always was a fast runner. In middle and high school, I joined the track team and excelled at long-distance running. That gave me acceptance amongst the jock crowd. I already knew I was "different" but nonetheless enjoyed hanging with the strapping football and wrestling stars.

One of my high school crushes was one of the track coaches, a studly god who was also a maths teacher. The more I excelled at calculus and track, the more he encouraged me. Married to the German teacher and with young children, I doubt he had any idea why I basked in his shadow. I still remember vividly how sometimes after track practice he would shower with us. It was all entirely chaste and he was absolutely above reproach; however, my fecund imagination savored every moment.


  1. Yeah, one of my fond memories too! Muscular gym teacher with a visible hard-on : heavenly
    Sadly he never showered with us! Loved another teacher`s bulging biceps, he always wore tight polo-shirts (very revealing!)

  2. Ahh, memories! Reminds me of a maths teacher at my high school, who was also a swimming coach, and used to always shower with us after an afternoon of training (even though he had a private shower in his office he could have used). He'd indulge in locker-room horseplay with anyone who'd engage with him -- play that to mind was very erotically charged. I'd always go home and have a long wank over it, turning the scene into a locker-room orgy in my mind.

    He had a delicious cock, that he loved flashing and waggling around the shower room, and a luscious arse and pair of juicy-nippled tits that he appeared to love feeling another bloke's hands against. Never got my hands on his cock or balls, though, even by "accident".

    The kicker of it all is that, just a couple of years later, I'm sure as I can be (without a flat confession, that I doubt will ever come) that he had a fling with my own brother. He used to give my brother a lift home after practice (I was out of the team picture by then), something I'd never seen him do for anyone else, and they'd always be a good hour or two later than practice's finish time.

    Where had they been? I asked my brother once, and he got all coy and avoiding. He'd visibly squirm, and try to change the subject. A-ha. So then I knew.

    I was so bloody jealous!!


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