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Introduction:

The beginning of my first long term gay love affair
This is a GAY SEX story. If it's not your bag, you won't dig it. This is the true story I wanted to have happen. But it's sadly only fiction. All but the first paragraph. That paragraph is all too true.

The ball slipped out of Craig’s hands as he was attempting to make a ball-fake. Instead of flying to my outstretched hands or remaining in his, the basketball headed straight for my family jewels. Connection established.

“OOOooohhhhh fffffffuuuuuuucccccccckkkkkkkkKK!” was all I could get out as I folded up and fell to the floor, instantly nauseous and in the worst kind of pain a seventh grader could suffer. The rest of my teammates froze up. The combination of my pain and my use of THE extreme curse word froze them like deer in headlights. They couldn’t bring themselves to even glance over at Coach Steve Black. They were certain as soon I was able to stand on my own two feet again; I was going to be bent over the bench taking swats for the f-word.

“That bad huh?” Coach Black asked. “Come on, let’s get you into the locker room and get you an ice pack.” He helped me to my feet and we headed for the corner of the gym and through the door to the boys locker room. “You boys can run the three-man weave until we get back,” he shouted over his shoulder. My teammates obeyed slowly, still imagining my pain as I hobbled out of sight.

“Can you lie down?” ask Coach Black, as he guided me to a wooden bench bolted to the cement floor. I gratefully sat on the very end of the bench, carefully not to jar my traumatized testicles, then reclined. The nausea was mostly passed, but the painful throbbing remained, radiating from my groin down my legs and up through my midsection. “I’ll get an ice pack. It will help with the pain.”

Coach Black went over the old ice machine and grabbed a bread wrapper to fill with ice. I watched him as he went about that small chore. All of the seventh and eighth grade girls constantly whispered about Coach Black. In addition to being the basketball coach, he also taught both PE and writing in our rural school where grades K-8 attended classes in the same three story building. Coach Black was single, drove a 69 Camaro convertible and was in great shape. He was a good looking guy. All of us boys wanted to grow up to be just like him. While he looked old to us, he was probably under 25. He spent all of his time teaching and coaching and he lived right down the street from my family in a small rental. My brother used to mow his yard, a job that I inherited. In our wet Oregon springs and summers, I was over there every five days mowing before it got out of hand. I never saw anyone else at his house. I’d been to the door dozens of times, but he had never invited me in. He paid me the going rate of three dollars each time I mowed, but never invited me in to pay. Once he was working on his car when I finished mowing and I walked up to his prone figure sticking out from under his oil pan. He had his knees raised and I could see up his shorts to his heavy balls surrounded in white cotton briefs. For some reason I found that exciting, but it only happened once and I put it out of my mind. Now, laying on that bench watching him bent over the ice machine scooping up ice to put on my balls, I found myself recalling those heavy balls and I wondering if my balls were going to swell up that big. He had muscular legs, suntanned and covered in dark hair. His forearms were strong and striated with musculature. The hair on his head was dark and wavy, usually tamed by a ball cap. His back was broad and strong. It was easy to see why all the girls had a crush on him.

“How do they feel?” he asked with his deep, caring voice as he stood up and turned back to me.

“They are really sore. And I feel sick to my stomach.”

“Pull your shorts down and put this ice right on your jock. Be gentle. The cold will take away most of the pain and keep the swelling down.” I froze. While Coach Black had no doubt seen me completely naked a hundred times after practice and PE, I suddenly felt very concerned he would see me in my jock strap. After all, I had just been checking him out and recalling his large ball sack. Now being semi nude in front of him terrified me.

“Don’t be embarrassed. Getting racked happens to every athlete from time to time. This really is the best cure, I promise. I’ve used it plenty of times.”

Slowly I lowered my shorts down to my ankles and took the bread bag full of ice from Coach Black. I placed it gently on top of my package.

“No, not like that,” objected Coach Black. “Let me show you.” He took the bag and held it between my legs like a saddle, gently pressing on my scrotum and inner thighs. I jerked as he pressed it lightly against my sore balls. It was cold but it felt much better.

“Is that better?” I nodded in reply. “You don’t want to freeze your Johnson by mistake! You might need that with a girl someday.” He winked. I blushed. I was just beginning to find the fair sex attractive and scary at the same time. Now a handsome man who I was finding attractive was holding a bag of ice cubes against my sore scrotum. After five minutes he pulled the bag away.

“OK, let’s see the damage. Drop your jock.” Again I panicked. “I am going to see if you are turning blue, which means a trip to the ER. Unless you want your mom to be the one to check….”

“No way!” I confirmed, reaching for my waistband. I lowered my jock strap down to my shorts between my ankles and stood up in front of Coach Black, who was staring at my small package.
“They look a little red and definitely swollen, but that’s to be expected.” He gently cupped my balls and raised them up, bending over to get a better look. “No damage hiding back here.” He began to massage my balls, checking them for damage he could feel. It was tender and not intended to be sexual, and I wasn’t that concerned that my coach was fondling my balls. But my balls had other ideas. They had feelings of their own. They appreciated the gentle touch of a stranger. I could feel the blood rushing to my cock. There was no way I could hide my arousal from Coach Black. I tried to move away and pull up my jock and shorts, but Coach Black reached around my hip and grabbed my ass.

“Don’t worry about that, David. It’s natural for a young man such as you to respond to genital stimulation. In fact, it’s a good sign. It demonstrates you have a fully functioning cock as well.” The entire time he kept kneading my testes, causing my dick to come to full attention, all five inches of it.

“It’s not a bad size either. It looks like your pubic hair is coming in nicely and this is a good size dick for a seventh grader.”

“Really? You think so? Some of the other guys are a lot bigger.” The compliment about my manhood had changed my focus entirely.

“There’s “showers” and there’s “growers”. You are a grower. Guys that hang like that, they get hard but they don’t get much bigger. If you want to know how big a guy’s cock is, look at how much loose skin it has when it’s soft. It won’t get any bigger than the skin can stretch, get it?” That made a lot of sense. I nodded.

“I was built a lot like you at your age. Now look at me.” He stood up and struck a Captain America posed, we both laughed. My eyes dropped to the front of his shorts, thinking back to the time I saw his balls in his underwear. I wondered if I was going to get that big when I finished growing. His eyes followed mine.

“Did you want to see what you have to look forward to? It seems only fair since I made you drop shorts in front of me.” I didn’t answer. But I kept my eyes locked on his groin and hoped. He slipped his thumbs into his waistband and slipped his shorts and jock down to his knees. “Not bad, eh?” He moved his heavy, drooping cock around and fondled his balls. “You are going to grow into something like this or bigger, I can guarantee it.” He pulled his pants back up.

“Ready to hit the court again?”

I pulled my shorts up and stood up, a little shaky. I don’t know if it was from the groin trauma or the realization that I really wanted to see Coach Black’s cock again. And much closer.

When I hit the gym floor, I started trotting out to join my friends, but the jarring caused me to wince and I slowed down to a wide-leg waddle.

“David, sit out the rest of this practice. You’ll be ready to go again tomorrow.” I did what he instructed and watched the rest of the practice from the first row of the bleachers, but I really spent the rest of practice watching Coach Black and wondering if I would ever get to see that wonderful cock again.

“Hey man, sorry about that. The ball slipped,” Craig said by way of an apology. “Did Coach give you swats for using the f-word?”

“Nah, he just let it go. I guess it’s one of those times when it’s appropriate.” We both laughed.

After practice I went home and didn’t even tell my parents about getting hit in the nuts. I didn’t want my mother to insist on seeing me with my pants down too. Anyway the pain was a fading memory and I didn’t want to relive it. Life returned to normal. That Saturday I headed over to Coach Black’s on my bike, towing my old Briggs & Stratton push mower. I cranked it up and started mowing. When I first started mowing yards two years before, I only mowed around and around. But I noticed some of the older men in the neighborhood took the time to mow patterns into the grass, making these cool cross-hatch patterns. I started copying their techniques. I spent the best part of an hour making the diagonal pattern in Coach Black’s yard, and I was pretty proud of the effect. That made me a popular young man to call when a neighbor needed their lawn mown while they were out of town. Some Saturdays and Sundays I mode almost a dozen yards.

When I finished Coach’s yard, I ran the mower up and down the sidewalk several time to blow the grass back into the yard and off the concrete. When everything looked good, I shut the mower off and knocked on the screen door. The wooden front door was standing open behind it.

“Come in!” came a shout from deeper in the house. “I just got out of the shower David, come on in. Have a seat in the living room. I poured us each a glass of lemonade.” This was the first time inside Coach’s house. I opened the door quietly and stepped inside. There were two glasses of iced lemonade on the coffee table in front of the couch. I had just taken a seat in the edge of the couch when he appeared from the hallway, a white cotton towel wrapped around his waist and another around his neck as he was drying his hair. He walked over to the front door and closed it, making the living room much darker. He leaned across me to turn on the table lamp then grabbed the glass of lemonade closest to him and took a long swallow.

“I probably ought to shut the door, or the old lady across the street will go blind.” He laughed at his own joke and I laughed self-consciously. “How are you doing David? Everything good…down there?”

“Yeah, everything seems to be ok. I was sore for a couple days, but it’s ok now.”

“Does everything still work OK? You aren’t whizzing any blood or anything are you?”

“No. I mean, no I am not peeing anything different. I don’t know if everything works still, I haven’t …. Um…. Well….”

“You haven’t had another boner since that day? That’s not good. I should take a look, just to be sure. What do you think?”

“Yeah, that might be a good idea. I can’t really tell my mom, you know? And I don’t want to go to the doctor and tell him I think my boner is broken.”

“No, that WOULD be embarrassing.” We shared a laugh. “Stand up and lower your pants and shorts. In fact, why don’t you slip out of them? You are covered in grass and I don’t want to make a big mess. Just go over by the door and strip out of them. You might as well take off your shoes and socks too. And your shirt is covered with grass, take it off too.” It seemed like a perfectly natural request, seeing as I was covered in dry and fresh cut grass. I stripped down and turned around, a little self-conscious at being nude.

Coach Black took a seat on the couch and I walked over in front of him. He reached up and gently cupped my balls and encircled my shaft, running his fingers lightly through my sparse pubic hair. I began to swell in appreciation. Coach slipped his other hand around my hip, gripping my ass cheek and keeping me locked in one place. As my dick began to fill, he began to manipulate it, encouraging me to get harder.

“Everything looks good so far,” he said quietly, subtly promising that this was going to go further. “How are your sensations? Any pain?” I shook my head no. He rolled my balls in his fingertips. “Now?” I again I indicated no. He gripped my shaft with a thumb and two fingers and slowly stroked its rigid length. “How about now?”

“No coach. That feels really good.” I was panting. My heart was racing. I was feeling things I had never felt before. I had fantasized about having Coach Black as my sexual partner, but I had no experience and this was more than I had ever imagined.

“The real test will come when you cum.” I must have looked confused because he explained. “When a man climaxes, he forces his semen from his balls out of his dick. It’s called an ejaculation. A blow to the balls may interfere with a proper ejaculation. I think we’d better find out if you have any problems there.” He stroked me faster. It was a good thing he was gripping my ass, I was beginning to get weak in the knees.

“Coach! Something’s happening! I feel like I am going to pee or explode or something.”

“It’s ok. It’s what we are trying to have happen. Just let it go.” No sooner had he given me permission then I was spurting my thin climax across the coach, the couch and up the drapery behind. “That’s not bad, David. Not bad at all. Good volume, good distance, nice color. I think you are going to be all right.” He licked the thin cum from the back of his hand. “And it tastes normal too.”

“You tasted it?” I was a little grossed out.

“Of course. It’s perfectly natural.” He had removed the towel from his neck and used it to wipe up the couch and drapes.

“It is?” I know he was older and wiser and an authority figure, but I wasn’t buying what he was selling.

“Yes, it is,” he reassured me. “Do you want to see for yourself?”

“Uh. Yeah, I guess. What would I have to do?”

“Why don’t I stand in front of you and you do to me what I just did for you?”

“Ok.” We switched positions and he dropped his towel, exposing his semi-erect cock to my curious gaze.

“Go ahead and get a grip on it. I know you are curious. Take your time and give it a good looking over.” With his permission I began to explore his man-sized cock. It felt warm and soft on the outside, firm and hard on the inside. I looked if well over, getting a really good look just in case I would never get another good look.

“Now circle the shaft about half way up and start stroking it. Twist your hand as you stroke, that’s it. Nice! Keep that up.” He stood there while I massaged his cock. I gripped his huge balls with my other offhand, feeling their heft as I rolled them back and forth. “You are doing great David. Are you ready to taste it? Open your mouth. Put it right on the end of my dick.” I did what I was told. “Open wider; don’t let your teeth touch. That really hurts.” I opened my mouth as wide as possible, feeling his cock slip farther and farther in. I had to let go with my hand to allow him to push his shaft farther into my throat. I was in heaven. Having his cock in my mouth was what I had been craving, but I didn’t even know it.

“Here it comes, close your mouth around it.” I made a seal around his cock as the first rope of cum struck my throat. I gagged. Then another and another came flooding in and it was either swallow or spew and I was determined to swallow so that Coach would let me do this again. It took him forever to empty his balls completely. The first six or seven gulps were gone before I took time to taste it. Now that I had tasted it, I wanted to taste more. It was sweet and warm and salty and unlike anything I had ever tried before.

“What do think?” he asked.

“Well, I would like to know if I could do it again.” I looked him right in the eye, expecting him to say no, that he was my coach and not someone that would enjoy having a seventh grade boy sucking his dick all the time.

“I am sure we can work something out. But we need to have a few ground rules.” I was on cloud nine. I would have agreed to anything.

“First, no one can ever find out. You can’t tell a soul. You have to promise to tell no one. Not your parents, not your brother, not your best friend.”

“I promise.”

“Second, you can’t come over here except to mow the yard. In school I am not going to treat you any differently. In fact, I may treat you a little harder than any of the other students. Do you understand why?”

“Yeah, seventh graders are bunch of lying little bastards. A rumor like this would drive them into a frenzy.”

“Third, you have to be honest. If you ever feel like it’s too much, you have to just say so. I won’t ever ask you to do anything for me that I won’t do for you. And you can say no anytime you want.”

“Ok.”

“Finally, and this is most important. You have to promise to let me suck your dick once in a while too.”

I laughed. “Of course Coach.”

“Call me Steve. But only in this house and only when we are alone.”

“Sure Coach. I mean Steve.”

We sat nude on the couch, side by side, sipping lemonade. It felt perfectly natural. He slipped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer until my body started to mold up to his. My left hand found its way to his flat, muscular stomach.

“David, let me tell you a story about a boy about your age. He had a crush on his coach and his coach had a crush on him. The two of them grew very close. The coach taught him a great many things and he loved the coach very much and would do anything to please the man. He even went into coaching himself because he liked how the coach made him feel. He grew to be a young man and then he moved away, leaving his old friend and coach behind. It was just the two of them and then they were apart for the first time in fifteen years. The young man grew very lonely. He stayed lonely until he met a boy who reminded him of himself when he was that age. Do you understand what I am telling you?”

“I think so. You were in love with your coach and when you moved away to take this job, you had to stop seeing him. And now you are hoping I can be your replacement for your old friend.”

“You are very perceptive. What do you think?” He appeared human to me now.

“I’d like that very much Coach, er Steve.”

“David, you have to realize this has to stay a secret between us. I can go to jail for what we’ve done today. I am trusting you with my life. Do you understand how serious this is?”

“Yes sir.” I was tracing the hair around his navel with my fingers, allowing my hand to dip closer to his soft cock. “I won’t tell anyone. I swear. Not now. Not ever.”

“Look at me,” he instructed. “I believe you.” He leaned down and kissed me right on the lips. It was the first kiss I’d ever had. It was powerful and exhilarating. His hands roamed all over my back and mine only worked its way down to his cock. I gripped it tight as my excitement built. I felt Steve’s fingers at my ass, kneading the globes of flesh. He pressed my groin against his hip and still we kissed. My legs parted and my left leg straddled his thighs. This gave his right hand full access to my crack. I tried to jack his shaft with a death grip, unable to move my hand more than half an inch. I could feel him hardening in my grasp. His left hand slid up my back and grabbed the back of my neck. He broke off the kiss and pulled my torso away, just enough to get his mouth on my neck. His hot breath and hungry lips set my flesh on fire. I could feel an urge to open myself up to him and let him have whatever he wanted. The harder his cock grew in my hand, the more I wanted to feel it grow. He moved me back onto the couch, kissing down my neck to my chest, licking and sucking on my taut nipples on my hairless chest. My cock was rising, urgent and needy. He pushed me all the way onto my back, pulling my right leg around behind him so that I straddled his torso. His lips kept moving down my stomach until I felt his chin brush against my cock. Then his mouth was on me, wet and hot. He sucked me hard, fully into his mouth. It took only seconds for me to cum, firing hot ropes of young jism into his welcoming throat. When I started to twitch with post ejaculation sensitivity, he removed my cock from his mouth and licked my balls. Then he put his hands behind my thighs and raised my legs high and wide until he had full access to my twitching brown ring. I could feel his tongue licking and exploring my asshole. Instead of being repulsed, I was fully excited. His tongue went into my ass and my head nearly exploded with sensations. I grabbed my knees and pulled them down to my chest, pushing my ass toward his mouth with the urgency I felt. He obliged by drilling my ass with his tongue. I was hard again, or still hard, it didn’t matter. I felt his finger press against my nether hole.

“Just relax and breathe out. If it hurts, push down like you are trying to poop. It will relax your sphincter and allow my finger in.” He continued his pressure and I breathed out slowly. When I was at the end of my breath, his finger was fully embedded in my ass. He sucked my newly haired balls. I could feel his finger slowly exit and then re-enter. The feeling was indescribably delicious. I felt like I was in a great dream and I could fly. He sawed his finger in and out until he could go faster and faster. Then I felt a larger intrusion as he put a second finger against my sphincter and pressed until it was embedded as well. The increased sensation started a chain reaction and I came yet again, pumping thin cream onto my stomach.

“Did you like that?” he asked with a grin.

“Yea I did. It felt really good.”

He got up to his knees between my legs. “Then this part is really going to make your day.” He rubbed his hard cock in my own cum, making it slick. Then he pressed my knees to my chest and lowered his groin until his manhood pressed against my freshly loosened ass. “It may hurt, so do like I said. Breathe out and push down like you are pooping.”

The only part that was uncomfortable was the opening of my ring to allow his knob to pass. After it was inside, the rest of his cock disappeared with one deep push. When he was fully inside, he bent his lips to mine and we kissed for the second time. While he kissed me, he started to stroke in and out of my virgin ass. I couldn’t help but moan from the wonderful feeling of fullness and sexual arousal. I opened my legs as wide as I could, begging him to get deeper. There was a burning sensation, but it was part of the excitement. It felt natural to wrap my legs around his waist and pull my ass toward his pounding cock.

“Oh God David! Your ass is so fucking hot! You are fucking like a champ! A natural born lover boy.” My head swam with the compliments. It felt wonderful to be the object of his attention and affection. I would have done anything for that man. “Oh man, I can’t help it. I am going to cum.” He grunted and thrust himself deep inside me, and I could feel his cock thump and my bowels warm with his emissions. Immediately my bowels loosened even more and his cock could slide in and out with ease. There was no pain. I was filled with a hunger to please. He tried to withdraw, but I wouldn’t allow it. I was afraid if he left my ass, I wouldn’t get his cock inside me again. He’d come to his senses and realize he had just fucked a seventh grader. He rolled to a seated position, with me still wrapped around his waist and his cock buried in my ass.

“What have I done? Have you become a cock whore?” he laughed. I responded by moving up and down on his shaft, relishing the pressure and sensations it gave me. We kissed again and I rode his cock for another fifteen minutes until I made myself cum yet again.

“That’s enough.” He pushed me off of him. “Go jump in the shower. Use the toilet too. But keep your hair dry. I can’t send you home with cum dripping out of your ass. We will have plenty of time to do this again.”

I dropped my head to his chest, listening to his breathing. Grateful and amazed at what luck I had.

“I do have two more rules. These might be the hardest two rules. While you are with me, you don’t get to sleep with any other men or boys. You can fuck as many girls as you want, and trust me after this you are going to be fucking a LOT of girls. And the second rule is you don’t get to masturbate. Save all of those wonderful loads of cum for me. Got it?”

“Yes sir, Coach. I mean Steve. I doubt I will get any girls, but I promise not to jack off.”

“Good!” he smiled. “Do you have any rules for me?”

“Only one: You don’t hire any other boys to cut your grass. Or anything else.”

“Deal.” We sealed our relationship with a kiss and I waddled down a little sore-assed to his shower. He was right about the girls. After getting laid, I was a new person. Being in love and sexually active must have changed my hormones. Suddenly all the girls found me interesting. From that point on, I was able to have sex with nearly any girl in my grade if I really wanted to. And every five days I was able to mow the Coach’s yard and continue our friendship and our relationship in the privacy of his home. Coach had girlfriends from time to time. He had sex with them too and told me all about it with his cock buried in my ass or throat. I never felt used or abused. I always felt like we were partners. Still do.
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