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Alex
Lockheed
La
Petit Mort - poem
Sounding
Home
to Fire Island review by Emma
STORY
Remembering
Miles
The Clint Folsom
erotic gay murder mystery series.
Habu reports that he enjoyed
writing this series. His premise was a no-holds-barred treatment of an unabashedly
promiscuous, laid-back, “good-guy” homicide cop with movie-star looks .
(Clint's) love of being ‘topped’ is so ingrained within his being that
each sex act is with an abandon and longing that makes men ‘feel like
kings’. If you weren’t a ‘sub’ before, you would wish to be one by the
end of the book. Once I finished reading it, I rushed to buy the rest of the
Clint Folsom series. Hot Stuff!
From
a review by Kpasa
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Coach Hazard's Finishing
School
Story by habu
Illustrations by
Ynal
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.
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