14. Bryant

Jack stomps across the field, his baby bulldog out in full force. I"ve punished him with wind sprints and burpees, weights, and even set him up with some extra tutoring sessions since I"m pretty sure he hasn"t been doing the assigned studying I"ve given him. All the punishments I know he doesn"t want, frustrating him with my lack of attention. I can tell that he"s very close to doing something stupid again. He"s right that it"ll get my attention, but if he puts my job in jeopardy again, I"ll end this little deal of ours in a hurry.

He"s been working hard, I"ll give him that. And as good as he was before he came to Groveton, he"s gotten better. He"s stronger, leaner, faster. He"s easily the best wide receiver in our conference, if not in the nation right now. I"m looking forward to what kind of stats he can put up once the season begins. I"m proud of the work he"s put in and his progress.

I guess it shouldn"t surprise me that a twenty-year-old man is motivated by sex, but the circumstances are definitely surprising. I"m nearly fifty years old, and Jack Perry is a good looking, excessively fit star football player who could get any girl he wants. In fact, if his reputation was even close to accurate, he did, and often. The reminder of that video makes me clench my fists, but it just goes to show the power and influence of being Jack Perry. And he is fucking sexy as hell. I"m slowly coming to terms that I"m attracted to him, and not just the dynamic between us. Or to his body, at least. His attitude still needs an adjustment.

When he gets to the point that he"ll drop down on his knees and apologize for being a fucking brat, I"ll go back to giving him what he wants. For now, I keep my mask of cool indifference and tell the team to huddle in.

"Alright team, you all know we have the donor brunch coming up next week. It"s how we officially start our season every year. A few of you are newer, so let me explain some rules. This is a high-class shindig, so you"re expected to show up in your Sunday best. When you"re speaking with the men and women whose donations made sure you are training in a state-of-the-art facility that rivals some NFL teams, I want you to remember that you are representing me and this school. If I witness or hear of any misconduct or anything but perfect behavior from any of you, I"ll bench you for the first game of the season. I don't care who you are. Does everyone understand?"

"Yes, Coach!"

"Good. Now get the fuck out of here. I"ll see you bright and early in the morning."

The team jogs off the field, but Jack stays back. I hold up my hand before he can open his mouth.

"I don"t want to hear it, Perry. I"m still too pissed to deal with you."

"It"s not that, sir." His use of sir gets my attention. I know he"s a good ole southern boy like most of these guys, but it"s not an honorific that I"m accustomed to hearing from him. He usually sticks to "coach," and his use is sarcastic at best.

"It"s about the donor brunch. I"m getting the impression that this thing is mandatory?"

"Is it on your schedule?"

"It is, but—" he cuts himself off, realizing his mistake before I have to correct him. He looks down and nods his understanding. His expression is not one I"ve seen on him before. It"s not just contrite, it"s… embarrassed?

"What"s the issue here, son?"

He clears his throat and lifts his chin. "I"ll need permission to leave campus to find something appropriate to wear. Please," he adds on hastily. The fact that he"s trying so hard makes my lips quirk, and I have to purse my lips not to grin. I enjoy seeing him squirm.

My eyes trace down his form, getting an estimate of his measurements. Nothing I have will fit him, that"s for sure, but I know someone that might help.

"We"ll get your measurements after practice today and I"ll have something delivered."

"I can"t pay for anything too–"

"I didn"t ask for money. It"s not a gift or charity, either. It"s a necessity to be part of this team. There will be more than one event that you"ll be expected to attend, and I expect my players to look and act the part of perfect gentlemen."

This time he"s the one trying to hold in a grin.

I roll my eyes. "Get inside. I don"t feel like getting caught in this rain that"s about to start falling."

His brow furrows, and he looks up. There"s nothing but darkness, especially as the stadium lights start to shut off, but you can"t see the stars through the clouds.

"How can you tell?" he asks.

"Pressure build up," I explain.

Jack rolls his lips together and turns around, walking towards the locker room.

"What"s so funny?" I ask incredulously.

He shakes his head, refusing to look at me.

"Jack…" I warn.

He chortles. "I"m sorry, Coach."

"Fucking what, Perry. Spit it out." By now, I"m more annoyed than curious.

"I just forget how old you are sometimes," he says, almost apologetically, as his eyes water with the effort to not laugh.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Your old football injury acting up when it rains?" His eyebrows lift as his grin spreads.

My eyes roll, and I huff out a laugh. "Listen, kid. I"ll bend you over my knee?—"

"Promise?" His eyes glitter with mirth, showing me the playful puppy I"ve come to know.

I give him a warning look, but I can"t help but let go of some of my anger. Truthfully, these past two months have made me forget how old I am.

"I think you owe me chin-ups today," I tell him, trying to get back to business. Chin-ups are his least favorite, which makes them my preferred choice for torturing him. Without realizing, I swat him on the ass as he turns towards the gym.

"Put that thing away," I tell him as I bring the measuring tape to the crux of his thighs to measure his inseam.

"Sorry, Coach. I can"t help it," he answers, maintaining a straight face.

I make a noncommittal hum of disapproval. I know he"s full of shit. He"s having the time of his life standing up on the bench so I can get his trouser measurements, putting his groin closer to my face than it"s been before.

Jack sucks my dick, not the other way around.

"What? It"s the truth. It"s been days, and with all due respect, I was getting used to getting rewarded for good behavior."

"Well, you fucked up?—"

"I know I did, and I"m sorry. That"s not really how I saw it all playing out, and I see now how stupid it was. We both would have lost everything."

I nod, glad for once that he seems to understand the gravity of the situation rather than just being angry about having blue balls. I stop and consider that thought for a moment. "When was the last time you came?"

"That time in the showers," he answers, his cheeks reddening.

My surprise overshadows my own memories of that night. Caught up in the moment, hypnotized by watching him in the shower, I"d gone a bit overboard, turning our strict exchange into something a little more personal. Before I knew it, I"d stripped down and joined him. It took everything in me not to brace his hands on the wall and lick him from balls to spine before impaling him on my cock. I desperately wanted to know if his ass was as tight as it looks, but I also like to deny myself. So I fingered him the way the hot nurse at my last checkup did me, finding that soft spot that I knew would tip him over the edge again.

Fuck, that was hot.

"That was really the last time?" I ask him, looking him sternly in the eye and challenging him to lie to me.

"Yes, Coach." I actually believe his sincerity when he answers me.

I look up at him and huff. "Get down from there and let"s discuss how the rest of this is going to play out. With classes starting soon, we"ll need to lock down a new schedule, anyway."

He hops down with enthusiasm, all but bouncing on his toes. "Calm down, pup," I say, to his chagrin. "Let"s go talk in my office, where we can look at your class schedule."

I can tell he"s disappointed that I"ve turned the conversation back to business, but I have to draw the line somewhere. He"s becoming needy and expectant. This isn"t a relationship, it"s a reward system for hard work and perseverance, albeit a really fucked up one.

It takes nearly an hour to write out a new schedule. Between classes, tutoring, and studying, he"s going to have to cut back on his practice and workout time, but I"ve still given him a pretty grueling schedule there.

He won"t have time to get in any trouble, won"t have time to fail, because I have every minute of his day planned out. He doesn't know it, but I"m going to begin pushing his boundaries a little, too. Because while I actually care very little about what he wears on a daily basis, I do like how pissed off he gets when I tell him what to do with his life outside of training. The food thing got less push back because his diet affects his performance, but if I"m going to be able to change him into the person he needs to be, if I"m going to make a real difference, he"s going to need to commit and submit all the way.

That's what I tell myself, at least.

Jack looks tired by the time we"re through, and part of that might be realizing how much work is ahead of him. Summer training was easy compared to the mental load he"s going to have to carry to maintain good enough grades to keep his scholarship and my approval. I"m not like other coaches that"ll make deals with teachers to get players special treatment. I know many of the students on my team get special treatment by default, or through their own methods—rich kids are brutal fucking manipulators—but I have no part in it.

I expect nothing but the best and as much as I"ve gotten my kicks ignoring and punishing Jack, he"s given me the best, so I suppose he deserves some reprieve.

"You look tired. Why don"t you go home and get some rest? I kept you late, so just show up with the rest of the team tomorrow."

A look of disappointment, and maybe even hurt, darken his grey eyes. "That"s it?" he asks, standing to follow me to the door.

I pause with my hand on the doorknob. "What were you expecting?"

"I"ve done everything you asked," he says in a low voice.

"Ah, I see. Well, you have my permission to get yourself off as long as you continue to behave accordingly. If you slip up, I"ll take it back." I start to pull the door open, but Jack shakes his head.

"What is it that you"re asking for here, Perry?" I say, using his last name to create some distance between us. "What reward would you be satisfied with so I can go the fuck home and ice my old man injury?" Jack ignores my attempt at humor, staring at me and worrying his bottom lip as he contemplates something.

Just as I"m about to lose my patience and kick him out of my office, he takes three long steps forward and pushes the door closed. Crowding me against the wall, Jack suddenly presses his mouth to mine. The kiss, or rather the stiff press of our mouths, seems to startle him as much as it does me. He pulls back quickly, eyes wide as he stares at my mouth, like he can"t believe what he just did.

I can"t believe what he just did, either. What's more surprising is how I feel about it.

Grabbing Jack by the front of his shirt, I pull him against me and then turn him around so his back is against the door. I stare at his lips for the briefest of moments before I take his mouth.

This time, our lips move against each other, albeit not softly. I coax his mouth open, dipping my tongue in to lick against his. We"re all teeth and tongues, hands pulling at each other"s clothes, the energy between us crackling.

I whip Jack"s shirt over his head, and he loosens the drawstring on my track pants. Grabbing his hips, I grind my erection into his and Jack moans. Pulling him against me, I turn us around and walk him to my desk, pushing his shorts and boxer briefs down as we go. He steps out of his shoes and clothes before I push him to sit on the edge of the desk, my eyes raking over his form. After two months of nonstop training and mostly eating only foods I"ve approved, his body is chiseled like a marble sculpture. From his shoulders down to his calves, every muscle ripples with the force of his heavy breaths. His cock, an alluring angry shade of purple and weeping with his need, juts out of his lap. I quickly move some of my things to the side so he can lean back, and then I direct his feet to the edge of the desk. He"s splayed out before me like an offering.

I remove the rest of my clothes and stand between his spread legs, examining the prize before me. His cock is throbbing, and it feels as though my own heartbeat skips to match its rhythm. Like I did before, I press our cocks together and wrap my hand around them, stroking them. Jack"s head falls back, and he moans. I know he won"t last long, but I plan to wring more than one orgasm out of him.

"Come for me, Jack," I tell him, and it"s like he was waiting for my permission. His hips buck into mine and he cries out as his cock jerks and spurts.

Hot, sticky fluid splashes against both of our stomachs and coats my hand. I spread it over my erection and use it to stroke myself, rubbing the dripping end of my cock against his asshole. Jack tenses at first, but then relaxes and keeps his legs wide, accepting me.

"I"m not going to fuck you, Jack. But I am going to make you cum again before you clean me up." He almost whimpers, and I push his chest to direct him to lie back on the desk. Grabbing his legs just behind his knees, I push them up on his chest and instruct him to hold his legs. His cheeks spread wider with the position. Standing between his legs, I give my cock a few more strokes before I shoot ropes of cum all over his ass.

Trailing my fingers through the mess that is dripping over his ass, I rub it around the tight ring of muscle before pushing my fingers inside. I start with two, and he hisses out a breath. The pants of pain quickly become moans as he begins to stretch, his body accommodating to the girth of my fingers. I add another, and Jack gasps. His cock is hard and ready again.

Wrapping my fist around his stiff length, I stroke him while pumping my fingers into his ass. Every time the pads of my fingers hit the soft, spongy spot inside him, he lets out a groan. When I can feel him getting close again, I push my fingers inside and massage his prostate while I continue to stroke his cock in my tight fist.

"Fuuuuucccckkkk," Jack moans, his body tensing and shaking. The tight ring of his ass begins to pulse and his cock jerks wildly as he ejaculates.

Thank God there"s no one in the building this late at night, because Jack shouts loudly with the force of his orgasm, nearly lurching off the desk.

"Fuck," Jack repeats, laying boneless across the desk, trying to catch his breath.

He looks so fucking good splayed out and covered in cum, both mine and his, that I nearly reconsider fucking him. I want so badly to sink my cock into his ass and feel him squeeze around me the way he did my fingers, to see my cum dripping from his gaping hole when I"m through ruining him.

Instead, I grab a towel from the shelf where I keep my extra gym clothes, and wipe the cum from his body, and notice some has dripped onto the dark green carpet. I wipe at the mess, but it leaves a small white stain behind.

I start to clean myself up, but Jack sits up and grabs the towel from me. He wipes the cum from my chest and stomach, bending forward to take my lips in a light and experimental kiss.

I blink rapidly, not sure what to think. It was different when the kiss was passionate and carnal, but this tenderness is not something I"m expecting or even looking for.

He pulls back with an expression that looks just as confused as I feel, before shuffling off the desk and dropping to his knees to clean me up, just like I told him to.