Coach gives you a lopsided smile, putting down some paperwork and giving you a curious expression. You can’t tell if he’s about to laugh at you or something else, but after stewing on what to say for a week you do feel a small hint of pride in yourself for actually saying something.

“You want to give me a massage?”

You answer, the words tumbling out of you as you explain it’s the least you can do, he’s been looking tense, and maybe something else you made up about wanting to get into sports massage and needed someone to practice on. Coach listens carefully, blinking a few times, as though he can already see what you’re really after by asking him something like this.

“Alright, alright. I’m sure it’d be good for me. I have a bed we can use in my office...”

Coach takes you over to his cramped office, full of trophies and certifications haphazardly tacked to the painted-over brick. Your shoes squeak on the old linoleum floor as he unfolds and gets himself situated on the massage bed, laying on his back instead of his stomach. He lays there expectantly, giving you a wink as he adjusts himself, lowering his hat to cover himself from the harsh fluorescent lights. “My back isn’t the problem,” he says simply, making you second-guess this plan totally. Despite everything, you make your way over, standing over the other man while he waits.

You’ve spent time with coach, a lot of time with coach, but not exactly like this... Laying there, his legs open and ready, his shirt just moments away from being pulled up, his chest rising and falling with a barely concealed excitement. You gather yourself, rubbing your hands together to warm them up, and slowly edge closer to begin. “Shoulders and chest hurt the most, I’m sure you can start there, right?”

He grunts, or maybe even moans just slightly as your hands connect to where his belly peeked from under that polo shirt. Gently, wordlessly you pull upwards, exposing his beefy chest as you move to each shoulder, your thumbs hooking around his neck and pushing downwards. Even if this was a ruse for both of you, there was indeed quite a bit of tension there, your breath escaping with a hiss as you try to work through what you can. Coach grunts again, his body melting under your touch, hat still firmly over his eyes. “That’s it... right there...”

You can feel the heat from his legs as he adjusts, moving closer to you as you continue to work, hands moving from his shoulders to his tits, cupping each one in your hands and squeezing. The other man jumps slightly, chuckling but saying nothing as you work him over, giving his hefty form a shake. As you grab, you can feel his perky nipples poking between your fingers, relishing the moment to squeeze them as well and watching the coach's noises become louder and less controlled.

“Fuck... I got a lot of... tension there, didn't I?” He chuckles, voice already breaking. You don’t say anything as one of his legs clearly brushes against your body, something already tenting in his shorts as you work. You work his nipples now, forgetting the rest of the muscle, each tug and twist getting a different reaction from him as his cock begins to throb, hips and back arching forward.

“Ngh... Fuck....” Coach whimpers, tensing at every squeeze as he starts to remove his shorts between your touch. Soon enough he was only in his jockstrap now, pawing at his own cock and stroking it as you moved in harder than before. “Maybe... Hah, you... could...?” he says softly, finding his hand at the back of your head and moving toward that nipple grinding against your lips before you realized what he was asking for. You took that tit into your mouth, suckling on it, your tongue lapping against its surface as the man groaned even harder, pulling out his member and stroking.

“Fuck... That’s it, work the other one while you suck, boy.” You do as you’re told, grinding against coach’s hairy leg as you work the other nipple with your hand, the man jerking himself off and moaning loudly at every new sensation you gave him.

“Fuck... I’m...” Coach gasped, his body thrashing so hard on the table it felt like he was moments away from breaking it. “FUCK!” he shouts, thick jets of cum erupting from him and hitting your head and shoulders. You both chuckle, your own erection painfully throbbing as it continues to rub. “Well... I feel more relaxed now.” Coach sighs, getting up from the table. “I think it’s your turn...”