My Coach

Catching up


By Musclebuff

It was my place. We sat at each end of a big leather sofa, facing each other, our feet up. Rod with his jeans on, I with my chaps. Thatís all. Two big leather/muscle studs sussing each other out, brandy glasses in their hands. The main thing after three years is that he was there.

"So why the hell did you put me through all that?"

"It was the only way to get your attention. Youíre too darn well guarded by your firewall guys."

"You pay for all that? You must be crazy."

"You donít know how much Iíve paid out to find you. Itís taken me three years! Why the hell did you never write? Not one answered letter! You know what Iíve been through all this time? Hell, it wasnít just a one-night stand for you, was it?"

"You know it wasnít! Anyway, how do you think you got that video in the mail?"

"So why?"

Rod looked down and sighed.

"It wasnít easy for me either, you know? I hated leaving you behind with Fischer. I just couldnít bear the though of him having you and not me. Yeah, I got your letters - read some of them - but you were so fucking full of happiness about your contests, your software, your coach, it nearly killed me. Dozens of times I tried to write, but I just couldnít get rid of the idea of you and Fischer! So in the end I stopped reading your letters. Then I moved out here and didnít get any more."

" ĎGone away. No forwarding address.í You know how much that hurt? I almost killed myself thinking Iíd never see you again. It was only Coach who saved me and pulled me together again."

"Shit! Fuckiní Coach! Fuckiní Fischer!"

"Jeez! Why do you hate him so much?"

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! Whatíre you trying to do to me? You know heís the cause of all this? He hates me so much he gets at me by taking you away from me!"

"Hey! Donít be an idiot! It was you who went away!"

"Yeah, but he kept you from me. He just wanted to break us up. I told you he hates me!"

"You couldnít be more wrong, Rod - he really likes you - , "


"He does - he was just angry with you for breaking training and trying that stupid blackmail stuff!"

"God, he told you all that stuff?"

"Listen, you idiot! He likes you and he loves me! Heís always saying what a good guy you are at heart, and you canít deny what we all felt after the match when we shook hands. You think that would have happened if he hadnít liked you a lot? He just wanted to straighten you out so he could bring us together - he wants me to be with you. It was real tough for us both when I moved over here. But he knows how much I love you, he saw how destroyed I was when I thought Iíd lost you for ever and he always said some day Iíd find you. But all I am, all you first saw of me and all you see now is because of him: all I am is part of him, and all he is, is part of me. And so are you. To both of us."

Long pause, Rod staring into the fire.

Then he suddenly threw himself towards me and grabbed my quads. Tiny voice, not like Rod at all.


"Hey, pal! No tears, OK? Donít want to have to wipe you up off my quads, not just yet.

Come Ďere!"

I hauled him up to lean against me. I shook him by the shoulders, but tears still ran down his face and dripped off his nose.

"Jeez, monster! I love you so much! You donít know what hell these last coupla years have been - I love you so much and I thought Iíd never see you again. Oh, fuck!"

I buried my face in his black curls and we both howled. He twisted himself around and kissed both my eyes.

"Forgive me?"

"Course. All that matters is youíre here, mate. That I can hold you like this once again and just love you to death."

"What about Fischer?"

"He adopted me, you know. Now heís my legal Dad. So if heís my Dad you canít compete with him! Heís going to be your father-in-law!"

That finally broke the ice. Rod roared and cantered round the room. I chased him and leaped up on to his shoulders.

"Hey - which way do I go?"

"Turn right and itís the first door on the left!"

Whooping like madman he charged into the bedroom and threw me down on the king-size then threw himself on top of me.

"Rain-check time!" he yelled.

"Whoever comes first gets fucked!"

Then things got very serious indeed. He held me by my golden mane and slowly, so slowly leaned in to kiss me on the mouth. Three years of hell slowly drained out of us as our tongues met and our two impossible sets of muscles melted into each other, as they should. His beautiful pecs sighed into mine and my bis squeezed into his wide lats as my hands went round to stroke that strong, muscle-lumpy back.

The rest of that night passed in a slo-mo haze, from kissing to fucking, to exploring each othersí bodies and feeling each othersí muscles as they obligingly flexed on demand. I agreed that his butt-hole had had enough punishment for, say twenty-four hours, so I let him fuck me, slowly, deliciously, in between long bouts of 69. As the dawn began to break, we rolled ourselves into one package in the sheet and fell asleep as happily as, for three years, we could only have dreamed. •

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