Timothy
Jockstrap Fan
I had no idea our high school wrestling coach was gay. But I think most young jock boys like me interested in sports, simply looked up to men like him who could help us boys move along in a sport or two that they coached.
I was a sophomore in a private high school, that had a wonderful sports curriculum. Coach O’Hara was amazing and taught seven different PE classes daily to boys who were new freshman through varsity seniors. He was also the coach in charge of wrestling.
I always had an interest in wrestling and, looking back I know why now. At the time, however, I just liked the closeness and yeah maybe even the shifting bulges that fellow teammates so easily sported (sprouted more likely!), especially when in hard competition on the mat in the eye of the public.
I was really no different, and my cock was never flaccid when I was in my singlet and wrestling jock. Heck, most of the times boys changing from their school uniforms into their jocks and singlets were half hard before even pulling their Jock up and adjusting Their cock in the coach’s preferred up-right stance.
Coach O’Hara was very well liked by all the boys in sports to my best recollection. In particular, the wrestlers were exceedingly fond of him as he would massage each teammate after a really hard, rough competition.
My first massage with him was a real eye-opener, as well as a cock dripping experience. All of us wrestlers always showered altogether, naked of course with coach O’Hara after each exercise meet. It’s just the way it was.
I lost my virginity to Coach O’Hara in a private area in his large office that held many wrestling champion trophies. I had lost my meet horribly so that early spring day and practically broke down in tears back in the locker room that I just sat there and silently sobbed.
after all the boys left the locker room, I felt so all alone and defeated I did not want to live anymore. Then all of a sudden a pair of really big muscular and hairy arms were around me, and it was Coach O’Hara, kissing my face and licking my tears and telling me what a good beautiful boy I was! I thought that was strange, especially because I had lost the match and was an embarrassment to the team. He helped me out of my singlet and took off his referee shirt and shorts and we both were only in our jocks -united with one another, and a very special moment in a very special hold, while he cradled me and rocked me back-and-forth. I felt so secure in his big arms like never before.
He said he had something special for me and said he would like to swap jockstraps with me so he, essentially, would uphold my young manhood to victory next time. He stood me up and tenderly pulled down my jockstrap, and made me step out of it. Then he stood up and pulled his jockstrap down and lo and behold His wiener was huge and throbbing, red, and glistening on the tip!! he then helped me into his jockstrap, which must’ve been an extra large while I only wore a small. I felt so manly as I could feel his ball sweat absorbing into my small pink boy-size scrotum. He told me I look great in his man’s supporter and that I was to wear it for the rest of the season in his honor.
I am sure I blushed 20 shades of red, but I agreed to him, and was so proud that my own wiener begin to grow while his dank, damp supporter cradled my growing member.
Safe and secure in his Jockstrap, that he tightened around my waist, he carried me back to his office. We spent the next hour together on the floor in his office. While it hurt when he first entered me, I knew it was for my own good as I needed help in growing quicker into a man. It was wonderful. He filled me with his ball nectar (as he called it) telling me it was his sperm of life that would give me strength and help me grow muscles fast.
We had a great time together, father/son, coach/growing athlete, etc. for the remainder of my high school years.
Upon my graduation, he gave me an album of some pictures of us and ‘our first mating’ as he called it. I had no idea we were being photographed when he initially entered my boy cunt and broke my boy cherry!! I am so glad he shared the pictures with me cause I would have them now also to always enjoy still to this very day, along with his unwashed jockstrap!
Now that I am in college, a few towns away, I still call him a lot, and we have visited each other back and forth. I still like it when he holds me in his big arms and rocks me back-and-forth like he did the very first time …only this time, we are united as one man with his meat far up inside of me while he holds me tightly, kissing, and licking my face!
Here are just a few of the pics he gave me when he made a real man out of me! I am so proud of them and everything we shared. Were it not for him on that very very desponded day in the locker room as well as on the carpeted floor of his office, I most likely would not be here right now as the very strong young man I have become all because of Coach O’Hara.
I was a sophomore in a private high school, that had a wonderful sports curriculum. Coach O’Hara was amazing and taught seven different PE classes daily to boys who were new freshman through varsity seniors. He was also the coach in charge of wrestling.
I always had an interest in wrestling and, looking back I know why now. At the time, however, I just liked the closeness and yeah maybe even the shifting bulges that fellow teammates so easily sported (sprouted more likely!), especially when in hard competition on the mat in the eye of the public.
I was really no different, and my cock was never flaccid when I was in my singlet and wrestling jock. Heck, most of the times boys changing from their school uniforms into their jocks and singlets were half hard before even pulling their Jock up and adjusting Their cock in the coach’s preferred up-right stance.
Coach O’Hara was very well liked by all the boys in sports to my best recollection. In particular, the wrestlers were exceedingly fond of him as he would massage each teammate after a really hard, rough competition.
My first massage with him was a real eye-opener, as well as a cock dripping experience. All of us wrestlers always showered altogether, naked of course with coach O’Hara after each exercise meet. It’s just the way it was.
I lost my virginity to Coach O’Hara in a private area in his large office that held many wrestling champion trophies. I had lost my meet horribly so that early spring day and practically broke down in tears back in the locker room that I just sat there and silently sobbed.
after all the boys left the locker room, I felt so all alone and defeated I did not want to live anymore. Then all of a sudden a pair of really big muscular and hairy arms were around me, and it was Coach O’Hara, kissing my face and licking my tears and telling me what a good beautiful boy I was! I thought that was strange, especially because I had lost the match and was an embarrassment to the team. He helped me out of my singlet and took off his referee shirt and shorts and we both were only in our jocks -united with one another, and a very special moment in a very special hold, while he cradled me and rocked me back-and-forth. I felt so secure in his big arms like never before.
He said he had something special for me and said he would like to swap jockstraps with me so he, essentially, would uphold my young manhood to victory next time. He stood me up and tenderly pulled down my jockstrap, and made me step out of it. Then he stood up and pulled his jockstrap down and lo and behold His wiener was huge and throbbing, red, and glistening on the tip!! he then helped me into his jockstrap, which must’ve been an extra large while I only wore a small. I felt so manly as I could feel his ball sweat absorbing into my small pink boy-size scrotum. He told me I look great in his man’s supporter and that I was to wear it for the rest of the season in his honor.
I am sure I blushed 20 shades of red, but I agreed to him, and was so proud that my own wiener begin to grow while his dank, damp supporter cradled my growing member.
Safe and secure in his Jockstrap, that he tightened around my waist, he carried me back to his office. We spent the next hour together on the floor in his office. While it hurt when he first entered me, I knew it was for my own good as I needed help in growing quicker into a man. It was wonderful. He filled me with his ball nectar (as he called it) telling me it was his sperm of life that would give me strength and help me grow muscles fast.
We had a great time together, father/son, coach/growing athlete, etc. for the remainder of my high school years.
Upon my graduation, he gave me an album of some pictures of us and ‘our first mating’ as he called it. I had no idea we were being photographed when he initially entered my boy cunt and broke my boy cherry!! I am so glad he shared the pictures with me cause I would have them now also to always enjoy still to this very day, along with his unwashed jockstrap!
Now that I am in college, a few towns away, I still call him a lot, and we have visited each other back and forth. I still like it when he holds me in his big arms and rocks me back-and-forth like he did the very first time …only this time, we are united as one man with his meat far up inside of me while he holds me tightly, kissing, and licking my face!
Here are just a few of the pics he gave me when he made a real man out of me! I am so proud of them and everything we shared. Were it not for him on that very very desponded day in the locker room as well as on the carpeted floor of his office, I most likely would not be here right now as the very strong young man I have become all because of Coach O’Hara.
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