/>I rolled over to rest after draining off whatever load I had produced, and Coach put out a muscular arm to pull me in close. I could feel that he had blown a warm sticky load himself and his dick had never been touched. We held each other for a long time and slept the rest of the night.

“Wanna shower with me?” he asked and I was able to use the one-liner that he so often used with me, “Incorrigible” as I got up and headed for the shower with him. In the shower, he teased me and asked if I wanted to “just slip it in” but I convinced him that I needed some recovery time. However, I did suggest that he go down on me and suck me hard while I showered, and he did just that. Again, I recognized that when I told him what I wanted him to do, he really liked that.

Out of the shower, we both shaved and he was leaning over the sink and brushing his teeth, with his cute ass right in front of me. I reached over and slapped it, not hard, but not easy either.. He looked up in surprise, and said “Well, don’t stop!” I slapped his cheeks again, and I could tell that this was doing something good for him as he nodded his head for more. Mirror games of ass slapping! I gave him more, harder, and he was visibly excited. I was not immediately aware of just how very excited I was also until I caught the image of my own raging cock in the mirror. When I became aware of my own arousal and erection, with just a little lube I rammed it in that tight little butt, watching in the mirror as I fucked him and as he watched me fucking him. The poppers were right there, in the ice bucket. Wow! I continued the ass reddening all the while that I was slamming my cock into him. Coach was panting with an incredibly hot desire and breathlessness, begging for still more cock as I delivered my last spurt. His own virtually simultaneous offerings pooled in a puddle on the floor.

I headed back to the shower, and he followed suit. As we were dressing and having room-brewed coffee, I looked at him and said, “I need to rest.” He smiled. “No wonder,” he said. “Just how many loads have you blown on this little trip?” I snapped back. “Just as many times that you have been fucked.” And we both found that to be tremendously funny for some reason. We doubled up in laughter.

On the drive home, we recounted every little detail that we could remember about Hairy Coach Ron, about Erik the redheaded marine, Jim the married guy, and the big dicked college student, whose name we never ever knew. I remembered to ask Coach about the Dad Son comment he had made and he said he would tell me about it another time. But he confirmed that he was not just shooting bullshit, that he and his Dad had been physical. I said to him, “Wow, that is hot. Not something that my Dad would ever do!” Coach looked at me sideways and smiled devilishly as he said, “Don’t be too sure of that. Remember, I play both golf and racquetball with him at the club.”