It went in without any difficult, with an abundance of precum slicking the way.

With his long legs up and over my shoulders, I entered him, and buried my cock as deep as I could. He moaned with pleasure, with a steady hum and drum of “fuck me, oh yea, fuck me”. We got lost in the black velvet fog of long passionate kissing and my cock thrusting. Our bodies were pressed so very tightly against each other, and there was no way of knowing how much time was passing as we physically melted into each other. I know that I did my best to fuck his brains out, I know that my movements were long and hard and deep, and I know that he met every ramming-thrust of my cock with his counter move, accepting and pulling my dick deep into his body. I also know that when we could do no more, we were both so physically drained that we exerted only minimal effort to clean up and crash for some rest. Coach murmured, “That just might have been the best fuck of my life, you could have been right,” as we drifted off to sleep.

We did wake in time to do a couple of the clinic seminars during the late afternoon, but nothing very demanding. We went back to the room, with a vow that we were going to do nothing horny until after dinner at least, if, indeed, we could hold off that long. It was tough to live up to the vow, with both of us parading around in white jockey shorts, with his beautiful rippling muscular body and both of us with bulging cocks, and it seemed to be an impossibility not to hold each other and it was nearly impossible not to lock into passionate kisses. But Coach pulled away and smiled at me, and told me that we both needed to hold off for an even better performance later. He suggested that we might break the record of the “best fuck ever” again tonight. I could handle that too.

We decided to go to the hotel’s health club to deflect the horns and to wake up the bodies with a workout. That idea felt good, and I was entranced to watch Coach as he lifted eights, bench presses, cable pulls, concentration curls…everything that he did had more muscles rippling and he was indeed impressive. There were several other guys there and they were all aware of my Coach and his workout and I was aware that one of them was watching both of us quite intently. Not yet attuned to the fine art of cruising, I thought he was just admiring the muscular work out, but when he paid attention to Coach, I felt little pangs of jealousy and when he paid attention to me, I felt like I was one helluva hot stud number. Being cruised is great fun when you are the object of attention! He was one fine handsome dude, I knew that, and I felt a strange tugging that I was attracted to him. That perplexed me since I had the Coach and his beautiful body and his hot ass right there with me. I did not need anyone else. Did I?

When I went to have a pee break, I came back to find him talking with Coach and I felt my heart sink a little, I did not like that at all. I probably behaved in a jittery manner, and when Coach asked me what was bothering