Coach Relieves My Stress

Our high school team made it into the finals for the first time in my varsity career. I'm a senior this year, so this opportunity to win with my high school would be my last chance. My father has asked the coach to spend extra time with me. To make sure I don't crack under the pressure. My father has always been a hard ass but he took it to new lengths the day he just showed up at my coach's office the day we advanced to the championship round.

This is my story:

After all the guys had taken a shower and the team was heading home. My father and I walked into my coach's office.

"Coach Tim, can I have a word?" My dad said sternly.

"Hello Mr. Reed, hey Brett. Take a seat guys, what's up?" Coach responded.

Coach Tim was an older man, about 60, possibly younger with greying hair. Good frame.

"I need to make something clear." My dad said as he inched to the edge of his seat.

"My son is eighteen years old now, a senior. This is the first time he's made it to the finals. I need to make absolute sure he won't fail. He must win, Coach."

"What exactly would you like me to do Mr. Reed?" Coach Tim said.

"I want you to take away the pressure that my son his facing. There is a lot, Coach. I want you to do whatever it takes to make sure that Brett is calm and relaxed going into these finals."

Coach Tim looked at my father and then he looked at me.

"I know a way." Coach Tim said.

"It's something my coach taught me, but it's a pretty unorthodox method of stress relief."

"I don't care if you have to hypnotize him. He must be one-hundred percent ready for the finals."

Coach Tim raises his eyebrows and taps his desk. I remain silent.

"Well, if you have the time we can begin right now. Shouldn't take more than an hour." Coach Tim said.

"An hour? That's all?" My father responds.

"Well, yes. This would be the first stage. We can do it right now if you'd like Brett." Coach asks.

Finally I get the chance to speak.

"Sure, I'd be okay with that." I said.

"We're going to need to be in private for this, Mr. Reed." Coach said.

"Sure, whatever you need, Coach."

"Just come by in an hour and we should be about finished." Coach replies.

My father nods and exits the room. Leaving us alone in the office, which is attached to our locker room. Coach Tim rises from his seat and tells me to follow him. I obey. He leads me into the showers.

"The showers, Coach?" I ask.

"Yes. This is an old trick that my old coach taught me when I was your age. You just gotta trust me. Do you?" Coach asks.

"Yea, I trust you, Coach." I answer.

"Good." Coach says as he turns on a shower in an open stall.

"I'm gonna need you to undress now, Brett." Coach says.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"Brett, it's nothing I haven't seen before buddy. Plus, your dad did say 'whatever it takes' right?"

"Yea, I guess." I said.

"It just feels kinda weird."

"Yea, but you do wanna become more relaxed right? And this works every time." Coach said.

I eventually see it his way and also remove my clothes, as does Coach Tim.

We get into the shower together.

His penis is fairly large. About six inches not hard. He also has hardly any pubic hair. Unlike me, as I sport a full bush.

"So is this gonna be like a body massage or something?" I ask.

"In a way." Coach says.

Coach Tim reaches for the bottle of soap. He tells me to lean backwards slightly. I obey. Coach Tim then drizzles the soap on my chest, arms, stomach and finally my bush and penis.

"Just relax, Brett. That stress is gonna go away soon." Coach says to me.

I remain silent and Coach begins washing my arms, then chest and stomach. He then moves his hand over my bush and washes it. Then begins rubbing his hands on my balls. My penis begins to get hard.

He smiles and pats me on the back.

"There's a good boy."

He spends a good amount of time massaging my balls. He squeezes them gently and rubs them. Finally he begins rubbing his hands up and down the shaft of my hard penis.

"Oh wow. That's good, Coach." I say.

"I told you, buddy." Coach says with a laugh.

Coach Tim continues jerking me off. Everything is going great. I'm getting a great hand job, my stress is certainly going away.

Coach lets the water rinse away the soap from my penis and balls.

"You're really gonna enjoy this Brett."

Coach Tim gets on his knees and puts his mouth over my cock.

"Holy crap Coach! That's amazing!"

Coach Tim continues giving me an amazing blowjob. His mouth effortlessly goes back and forth over my dick. His tongue feels fantastic on my shaft.

I can't help but moan.

From the corner of the room walks...

My dad.

He sees everything. My hard cock is still in Coach Tim's mouth and his hands squeezing my huge balls.

"OH MY GOD! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" My dad shouts.

Coach stops sucking my dick, gets up and walks toward my father.

"What are you doing?" Coach asks.

"Me? You're giving a blow job to my son!" My father says.

"I told you, I had an unorthodox method and you told me to do 'whatever I need to do'. Remember?"

I stand silently and make no effort to cover myself up. I certainly didn't want it to end, I know that much.

"Now, I'm going to continue sucking off your son. Because it's working, isn't it Brett?" Coach puts me on the spot.

"I'm sorry dad, but yea. It really is taking the stress away." I answer as my dad can't help but briefly look down at my penis which is beginning to go soft.

"God..." My dad says to himself.

Coach Tim turns back to me, cups his hand under his mouth and spits into it.

"You can either watch or leave...doesn't matter to me." Coach says.

Coach Tim then takes his hand and begins jerking my dick again. I quickly become hard in his hand. My father stunned by this image, finally walks away, but is close enough, I'm sure, to hear my moans pick back up. Coach jerks my dick faster and faster until I shoot my cum all over his face.