Tyler awoke the next morning with a rock hard erection. It pushed the sheets into a sharp pyramid over his body in the warm AM light that dripped through the shades. The shower was on; his coach's bed was neatly made beside him. He resisted the urge to reach down and stroke his penis, today was the most important day of the competition for him and he was already well behind the leader despite being tied for second place.
He knew that Germany was a sprinting team. They always have been. They gather as many points as possible on the first day and hope it becomes an insurmountable lead despite being unable to win any of the latter days. Tyler pulled the stale hotel air into his lungs and stretched his legs below him. His arms were pulled up and tied to the headboard above him. A precautionary measure by his coach to ensure he was ready for the marathon today. Some coaches trusted their athletes blindly only to be disappointed by their performance in the competition. Others fitted small chastity belts over their precious sporting equipment.
In time, Tyler's coach came out of the steaming bathroom with a towel in her hair. She had dressed in the bathroom in an all black tracksuit and sneakers. Without looking at Tyler and his morning wood, she said, "Ahhh, I see you're both awake. Let the games begin. Want to talk strategy?"
"I'm ready coach, today is my day. There is no need to worry."
"I know you are, but it wouldn't be the first time that penis has disappointed me," she fired back.
She neatly placed her carefully folded clothes into her suitcase and zipped it up on her bed. She walked over to the television and turned on the news, then walked to the window and pulled the blinds open all the way. They both squinted at the skyline outside. "Well, let's do this," she said. She walked over to Paul's bed and untied him, gently pulled the sheets off of his body so as not to stimulate his penis at all and they walked into the warm bathroom where Tyler stood over the toilet with his hands on his head. His coach stood beside him waiting expectantly while reading her morning text messages.
"Coach, you can trust me today."
"Nice try sport, but I'm not leaving you two to your own devices," she said with a gesture towards his cock. It pointed to the ceiling defiantly. "Too much touching and you'll be so horny you'll be like one of those sprinters." Then she reached over to the sink and turned the water on, "Inspiration," she said.
Tyler rarely got used to this, but after about a minute of standing there, his penis began to relax towards the toilet bowl. In the other room, the television announcers were doing a round up of the sporting events of the previous day. "The German team with their tiny penis are leading the competition, but I don't think they have the longevity to make it through today's marathon. Katie, what do you think?" One anchor asked another.
"Well Tammy, it doesn't look very good if we look at the replay here from yesterday's competition. Watch this. This is an iso cam on the German competitor between the javelin and the sprint and watch this. Zoom in here. Okay, as you can see he is already leaking an immense amount of pre-cum and he hasn't even touched his little guy yet! This is merely after doing some jumping jacks, which we should..."
In the bathroom Tyler's organ had finally relaxed enough that he could relieve himself. Once his flow began his coach raised her eyebrows and said, "about time." To shake him off, the coach simply smacked his ass hard and walked out of the bathroom. He turned to follow her out. On the television the anchors were watching slow motion replays of the ruined orgasms from the sprint competition. "Look! Look Tammy," one anchor said, "watch how his penis flexes three times before finally drooling out its seed." The hosts let out hoots of laughter between their analyses. "Ideally you want as many flexes before the ejaculation as possible as this means the man had less pleasure and will be more ready to cum in the second and especially the third day of competition." More footage played and it showed more and more spooge spilling to the floor from every possible angle.
Tyler's coach turned off the television. "Today is your day, let's hit it," she said.
He got dressed and they drove to the stadium in an uneventful, but tense silence. Windows gleamed in sunlight. Crowds of fans piled through security checks. The back entrance of the garage was shrouded in shadow. The reparation tunnel under the stadium was steamy. Competitors trickled in over the course of the morning. The anticipation tightened their testicles and closed their throats. Many of the coaches were standoffish this morning. They wanted their men as flaccid and far from orgasm as possible. Some had even put sleep masks over the eyes of their athletes so as to minimize visual stimulation before the big event.
Fluorescent lights. Linoleum tiled floor. Air tinged with oil and body heat. The walls shook with cheers from above. There were fewer competitors than yesterday. Some athletes made small talk other athletes listened to music. All failed to slow their heart rates.
In time, the short woman with the clipboard and earpiece came in. She smiled and said, "looks like we lost a few boys from yesterday." There was no response other than shuffling of feet. Tyler looked over at his coach. She was facing forward proudly. Other men breathed deep. "When I finish talking, I need the German competitor, our points leader from day one, to come to the front. Followed by USA, and France. Then Jamaica, Canada, Panama, and everyone else will line up behind them. Okay, Germany, bring that baby penis up here."
