Coach Hazards Finishing School

The training regime for the elite wrestlers in my university's wrestling team was known as Coach Hazard's Finishing School. I had worked hard for three years to make this squad team for two reasons: this was the best of the best in wrestling in our regional division and I had the hots for Coach Hazard, who was handsome in a rugged Marine way, was solid muscle, and had the biggest cock I'd ever seen. But I didn't think Coach was ever going to notice me. Although now twenty, I still was pretty small everywhere but where it counted and was lithe and young looking, not at all like the big hulking wrestlers Coach Hazard surrounded himself with. Still, I was solidly in the light-weight division and had maintained an admirable win record my first three years at the university.

As I was doing all I could to get the coach's attention and earn a shot at a place on this squad, the buzz that got back to me was that a superior wrestling performance wasn't the only thing a guy had to put out for the coach to make the squad, but that was quite all right with me. My friend Pete was on this team, and I had repeatedly told him I'd do anything to be on the team with him. This must have gotten back to the coach, because I'd finally been summoned to an evening session in the wrestling gym, where Pete said I'd get my shot.

When I got to the wrestling gym that evening, there were Coach, Pete, and several of the other wrestlers, waiting for me, with big grins on their faces—all naked, most with respectable hardons. I wasn't all that surprised, because I'd also heard that Coach Hazard trained this squad in the nude so that they would have no inhibitions during the actual matches. Many on the team thought this was precisely what gave our team an edge in regional competition.

"Strip and come over here," Coach said gruffly as I entered the room, and, when I was naked, he led me to a strange alcove off the gym, which was shaped like half a hexagon and was completely lined with mirrors—on the walls, on the ceiling, and even on the floor. A wooden bar went all the way around at about waist height.

"Like it?" Coach asked. "This is where the wrestlers and bodybuilders can come to get a good look at how various muscles are developing. "We have other good uses for it too. This is going to be a sensory lesson for you. I want you and Pete to stand over there in the middle of the alcove, facing each other, hands at sides. Yes, but closer. But not too close yet." I looked into Pete's eyes. He had that "eat you up" expression on his face. It wasn't at all unpleasant.

"First, I want you to take note of yourself and Pete in all of the mirrors around you. Let your eyes see everything. Okay, now, as you are doing that, I want both you and Pete to reach out and gently explore each other with your hands. All the time, I want you to drink in what is happening by scanning your images in the mirror. See what various touches do both to what is being touched and to other areas of your body. There, that's good. Ah, I see that you're enjoying this." Pete was brushing his hands around my nipples and down to my belly, and my cock was rising in reaction.

I reflexively backed away from him, hesitating slightly. Coach Hazard was quick then to ask me if I really wanted to join the elite varsity squad, if I really was willing to do anything to be on the team.

"Yes, Coach. I do. It's just a little embarrassing and strange."

"Well, son," Coach said. "We win because we are a close-knit team—as close as a marriage. Each member is totally loyal to every other member and has an intimate relationship with each and every other member. Do you understand fully what I'm saying?"

"Yes, Coach," I answered with a big gulp.

"Are you sure, I wonder," Coach said. He moved over to me and ran his hands over my torso and down to my engorging cock. "I've been watching you for two years, son. And I like what I see. I even like your wrestling style. You look so small and vulnerable when you approach the mat, which tends to throw the competition off. Because underneath that boy's body of yours, you are all steel and grace and smart moves. And I like this cock of yours, too. Looks like a seven incher. Have my eyes measured well?"

"Yes, Coach," I squeaked and then gulped. I couldn't believe it. The coach had his hands on my cock. I didn't know if I'd be able to control myself.

"Do you want to be on this team enough to give yourself totally to the team?" Coach continued. "Because if you do, before you leave here tonight, you are going to be intimately linked to each and every member of this team. For the hard of understanding, that means everyone here is going to have a chance to fuck you tonight, if they can master you on the mat and if you are going to be a member of this team. Do you want to leave now?"

"No," I answered almost in a whisper. "I want this."

"OK, then proceed, Pete." And Pete drew me back to him and resumed running his hands around my torso and thighs.

"See, not just your cock is reacting," Coach was continuing now in a low, husky voice. "Look at your other muscles. Your body is coming alive to Pete's touch. See your butt muscles twitching. See your knees getting soft. And as he moves his hand to your cock, see yourself leaning into him. You want him. Your body wants him. Connect the touch sensations with the visual. See what you are doing to him with your touch. See his eyes take on a dreamy look, his mouth open and his tongue moistening his lips. Yes, see how your lips come together and open to each other, how you move into each other, nipples touching nipples, pelvis against pelvis, cock against cock. See how you both start to grind a bit. He's got his hands on your butt cheeks. Feel that, let your eyes see that, feel how the visual intensifies the pleasure of his hands squeezing your butt. Yes, you can put your hands on his, as well.

"Uh, I saw you flinch. Did you see yourself in the mirrors flinch as Pete did whatever he did? Draw apart a bit, Pete, and let us all see what caused that flinch. As yes, do you see, Sam, Pete has your cocks encased together and he's gently stroking them together. How does being able to see that in the mirrors enhance how it feels? Doesn't it double the pleasure?

"Now Pete is moving down your body, kissing and sucking your nipples, tonguing down your six pack, playing with your navel, kissing and tonguing down across your belly. Watch him do this from every angle, Sam. Feel his worshipping of your beautiful body. Those are your balls he's licking, Sam. Did you notice how you broadened your stance to give him access? Did you see that in the mirror? Do you realize that this means you want him? You want him to suck your balls and make love to your cock. There, he has the head of your cock in his mouth now. Did you see as well as feel you throw your head back at that? Did you hear your moan? Did you see you burying your hands in the hair on his head, holding him to you, loving what his mouth was doing to the head of your cock? There, did you see as well as feel your cock disappear, reappear, and then disappear? Look at the floor mirror, right under you. That's your big cock being swallowed, disappearing in Pete's mouth. Doesn't it give you pleasure to see what you are doing to Pete and how much he wants you in him? Do you see as well as feel his hands on your butt, the finger he has at your asshole? Do you see as well as feel your cock grow even longer and thicker as it disappears and then reappears; disappears and reappears? Do you see yourself shuddering and your legs turning to jelly? Being able to both see and feel will double your pleasure, but it will also shorten your jackoff time. There, just as I said. Did you see how your body jerked and spasmed right before and you shot off all over Pete's welcoming lips and face? Do you see that if he wasn't supporting you with his hands on your butt, you would have just collapsed on the floor?

"Now, Pete wants attention too. Turn around, Pete, hands on the bar, chest parallel with your butt, legs well apart. Look in the mirror, Sam. What stands out? First, that big dick swinging between his legs, right? Look in the mirrors Sam, look at Pete's dick from every angle. He was so busy working on you that it let it go a little soft again. Help him with that, Sam. You can take that big rod in your hand. Yes, like that. Milk him, Sam, and watch yourself milking him from every angle of the mirrors. And watch him loving it."

I could see in the mirrors that all of the wrestlers standing around on the periphery were also milking themselves, or each other, and loving it.

"Now what's the other thing you notice calling to you, Sam. Yes, right, that puckered asshole. It's calling to you. Kiss it, lick it, tongue it, giving him a good rimming. And watch yourself in the mirror—and also watch how Pete is writhing from and loving your attention. Now, see, I'm going to get behind you and reach through your legs and work on your cock as well. See that in the mirror, Sam, and feel it doubly fine because you can see what I'm doing? We want you up again, because in just a few minutes, you're going to be ramming that ole seven incher of yours up Pete's ass, and we're all going to be loving watching that in the mirrors.

I worked on Pete and Hazard worked on me for a few minutes, until Pete started to babble, "Now, now. I can't take this teasing any more. Fuck me now. Ram it up there."

"Well, do as he says," Hazard directed as he released my now-engorged cock. I stood and approached Pete's rear. I positioned my cock head against his asshole with my hand and slowly worked my way in, watching, as Coach wanted me to, from every angle in the mirror my cock disappearing into Pete's ass. I had both of my hands on his hips now, and Pete was pumping his own cock. Hazard was standing behind me, working up his own rod. I had to admit it; being able to watch it was twice the pleasant sensation.

I was so concentrated in working Pete, which it came as quite a surprise when I felt hands on my butt cheeks and a mouth on my asshole. I looked around wildly to see Coach's face plastered to my ass. He was good enough, though, to lather me up with some ointment before he mounted me from the back. The mirror revealed me as a sandwich, the meat between two ecstatic pieces of white bread. I came quickly inside Pete, but then I just held on to him for dear life, as Coach plowed me hard and fast with that big nine incher of his. I threw my legs out wide, trying to open as wide as I could for all that the coach had to give me. Leaving my pelvis plastered to Pete's buttocks, Coach Hazard wrapped his arms around my chest and pulled my torso back to his hairy breast. He buried his lips and teeth into the hollow of my neck, while he stroked me hard and deep and fast from behind.

When he'd shot off in me, Coach let Pete and me just collapse to the floor and spent twenty minutes in telling me what the stringent rules and regulations were of his elite squad.

After this, he grabbed me by the head and pulled me up to his cock and made me suck him big again and then said that the rest of the evening would consist of me finding out the wrestling skills of every member on the squad, including him. I was to wrestle each man in turn, and whoever made the pin got to fuck his opponent in the position of the pin.

I thought I was an excellent wrestler already, but the squad quickly showed I had a long way to go to truly be in their league. Coach Hazard pulled me out into the center of the mat, and had me on my belly in a full Nelson in no time flat. He then proceeded to keep me in that hold as he fucked me from behind again, rotating his cock around inside me both near the surface and deep by revolving his hips. I must admit I didn't half compete with him, because having his huge cock up me was part of my dream.

After Coach had fully taken me again and shot of hot jism inside me, each of the other members of the squad showed me their specialties—and that their specialties trumped mine—and I had cocks of all sizes and thicknesses working my ass for the rest of the evening.

My next team punch event defeat wasn't too taxing. I was getting steeled to these attacks on my body. The winner was one of those lean, mean Marines, without an ounce of fat on a very efficient body and a shaved haircut.

Not much to brag about in the below-the-belt category, which probably is why I'd seen him hang out with one of the bantam-weight wrestlers, a willowy, but obviously strong, young man who didn't look a day older than eighteen, although he must have been at least that age to be going to this university.

The Marine-type had me pinned in no time flat. Then he sat down in a cross-legged lotus position and had me sit down in his lap, facing him, my legs stretched out in front of me with his torso between them. He told me to arch back and support myself from behind with the heel of my hands, and then he let his hands roam across my torso and stroked both my cock and his until his was large enough to work with. He told me to dig my heels in and lift my pelvis a bit, which I did, and then he inserted his engorged, but not all that long or thick cock into my ass, leaned back on his own hands to give himself leverage, and fucked me with short jabs upward, making up for any shortfall he had in length and girth by making me feel like a hundred fingers were flicking around inside me.

What he lacked in equipment, he also made up for in stamina, as he pumped me for a good long time, and I must say I probably was enjoying this as much as he did. My enjoyment showed in the condition of my own pecker, and a short time later, the Marine's little bantam-weight type, probably in an act of jealousy, came over and settled between the Marine's torso and mine.

My cock was running up the cleavage of his pert little butt, and he put a hand back there to simulate a channel for me to fuck, so I dry-fucked him. I figured he and the Marine were a matched set because of his size and the size of the Marine's penis, so I didn't press the point about trying to enter the tyke myself. The Marine and his lover went into a session of kissy-face and mutual nipple nibble, and I figured they had forgotten me altogether when I felt the Marine withdraw from me and start skewering the Bantam-weighter.

I slid right on out from underneath them after I'd shoot off up the Bantam's back, and they gave no evidence of noticing I'd gone.

In my next team punch match, I lost quickly to the university's star wrestling champ, the very athletic Greg. After winning, Greg accentuated his athletic prowess by making me swing both my arms and legs over the parallel bars set up at the side of the gym and then getting on a bench under me and fucking me first from the front, my ass tipped up and then from the back, my ass tipped back, and then back again. The trick for him was in making the transition, which he did several times, without dislodging his prick from my ass. The trick for me was to take the pressure and weight on my arms and biceps for the thirty-minute performance. The other weightlifters seemed to be quite entertained by this.

By all rights, I should have been exhausted by now, but, the gleam of surprise and respect in Coach's eyes being worth the effort, I didn't lose the next team punch match. I didn't win, either, but, hey, a draw was better than getting fucked. The guy was a surly Hispanic with an attitude—not that there was anything wrong with being a Hispanic, and a surly dude of any ethnicity was to be avoided at all costs. He was pumped up with steroids or something that made him look like a professional wrestler, and he had a whole display of one sprawling tattoo that covered one whole half of him. It came down from his skull—he had half of his head shaved and the hair on the other half drooped down into his eyes. The tattoo descended his neck, covered the left half of his torso and his left arm, and descended down his left leg after making a detour around the root of his cock. It was a rather intriguing design, but I wasn't all that interested in getting a better look at it. He had a ring in his eyebrow, in his lip, in his right nipple, in his navel, and, most shocking of all, in the foreskin of his penis, which was a pretty respectable size and uncut. He looked like he'd just stepped out of a gang-banger comic book, and I was mighty glad I didn't lose my match to him. I could tell, though, that he was going to demand rematch after rematch until he could get me in his power.

Coach could see that this disturbed me and, after explaining that a tie meant neither one of us would get to fuck the other, he said. "Remember what he wants, Sam. And if you set your mind to not giving it to him, you will continue to develop a winning form with this team."

I had assumed that achieving a draw would bring me relief for the evening, but Coach wouldn't have it. I was still panting from the effort of holding the Hispanic tattoo display off, when Coach called my next match. This last event I had to face was really unfair, but Coach Hazard seemed to be looking forward to something special and the Pratt twins apparently didn't go anywhere or do anything separately.

I was faced with two identical, accomplished wrestlers. Of course it was no contest, and the gym roared with delight and everyone was cheering and groping each other as the twins, as their reward for winning such a one-sided battled, shared me. First one went down on the floor with his legs stretched out in front of him, and then the other one helped push me down into the first one's lap, facing him, my ass slowly opening up to his average-sized cock, not yet ready for the onslaught. This twin wanted to kiss me and lick and nibble at my nipples. The first one's rod was only an inch in when the second one scooted under me from the back. Now the twins were essentially sitting facing each other close, the legs of the first one stretched alongside the hips of the second one and the legs of the second one extending over the thighs of the first and wrapping around his butt. I was between them, my legs now on top of those of the second twin. And the second twin's cock had joined that of the first one at my asshole, and as I was stretching and opening up, I was descending on two cocks. Luckily they both were of average size. Both twins were frenzied at sharing me and running their cocks together up my ass canal, and I was a little excited too. As Twin #1 continued to kiss and nibble at me in front, Twin #2 wrapped his arms around me and found my cock and balls and gave them attention. He also kissed and nibbled at my shoulder blades and neck.

Upon almost imperceptible command after they were both rooted in me, Twin #1 lowered his back onto the floor, and, with his hands squeezing my butt cheeks got his feet up onto the ground, raising me with his thighs and tipping my butt into the air. Twin #1 then came up on one knee and got the foot of the other leg onto the ground and, with this new leverage, power fucked me with his cock, at the same time creating friction with his twin's cock that sent the three of us into exclamations of ecstasy, panting, and grunts and that sent the audience into cheers. The three of us came in near succession, although I'm happy to say that I outdistanced either of the twins in this category.

As I untangled myself and hobbled for the showers, Coach Hazard patted me on the butt, told me this had been my best performance yet, and welcomed me to the varsity wrestling team.

Coach Hazard's finishing school certainly had some nonstandard aspects to it, but the incentive to not be topped repeatedly at every session was enough to make me one of the best wrestlers in the region before the season was finished. I made it a point, however, to never put up much of a defense against Coach and his luscious ramrod.