22. Bryant

The bus is loaded and I"m reminded why I don"t typically ride with the players when we travel. Their rowdy asses are loud, like the bus is full of a bunch of middle schoolers rather than grown ass men.

"Calm the fuck down, you Jackals!" I yell. As usual, they laugh at the way I use our mascot as a pun, but they do calm down. Some, at least.

"Surprised you"re riding with the team," Tuck Sanders observes, sitting across from me and stretching out his legs. He and I are taking advantage of the extra room our bus has, since only the first-string players are riding with us. We have four charter buses just for the team, and another three buses for the band and cheerleaders, plus a big box truck for equipment. It"s a big production.

"I have some work I need to do, thought I"d make use of the downtime." It"s a ten-hour drive to Manhattan, Kansas. Plenty of time to catch up on some emails and letters I"ve been sending out to the NFL scouts I know. Riding on the bus will give me plenty of time to work on all of it, leaving me more time to rest when we make it to our hotel.

I've sent out a few videos of game footage, and people are starting to show a lot of interest in Jack. Some of them found out about his antics at his last school, so I"ve had to assure them and show proof of his complete change in attitude since coming to Groveton. I have leaned heavily on letting them know that, while Jack"s behavior was inexcusable, it wasn"t without reason; citing the lack of charges brought against him and his old coach"s propensity for being an asshole with an ego bigger than the state of Texas.

I might have also sent a few emails back and forth with Tim Worth, not-so-casually letting him know that his threats to ruin Jack are not only baseless, but that if he tried anything, I"d ruin him after finding out the truth of what happened with his nephew and daughter. I might have given him the impression that I had proof that his nephew tried to drug his daughter, so if he tried to turn around and press charges against Jack, he"d be publicly shamed for his abysmal parenting choices. The promise of scandal and the might of the Groveton legal team have him pretty well in hand, and I'm confident he"ll have nothing but good things to say when interviewed about his former player.

I haven't told Jack about any of my exchanges with his former coach. For some reason, it feels awkward admitting how much I've gone overboard in securing his future.

My eyes cut to Jack, stretched out in the very back corner of the bus. He picked the short straw and has to sit across from the small bathroom, but gets the benefit of not having to share a seat, so he has more room to stretch out. The seat in front of him is just an open space, made to fit a wheelchair, so he"s a bit cut off from the bustle and conversation with the rest of the team.

He catches my eye and winks. I frown, because what if someone saw him, but no one is paying attention. They"re all laughing and discussing some party they went to the other night. A party Jack apparently missed because he was still recovering, but I happen to know that it"s because he was at my house. That was the night he brought me soup and a blow job, which, consequently, did make me feel better. That was the night that I decided not to fight this thing.

It"s just like he said, a diversion. We"ll be discreet.

I"m starting to nod off when my phone buzzes with a text from Jack. He"s sent me a link to download something, but with no explanation of what it is. I look up. Jack meets my eyes with a mischievous glint in his own. The bus is dark and quiet, and most everyone is asleep or watching a movie. Tuck is snoring across from me. My phone buzzes again.

JP: Download it.

BN: What is it?

JP: The reason I decided sitting next to the shitter was worth picking the short straw.

He sat there on purpose? Now I"m intrigued.

The app turns out to be some kind of remote control. I download without reading what it"s for, so it takes me a minute to figure out what it is. There"s a control for intensity and different pulses. What…

I chance a glance back at Jack, who licks his lips before putting something in his mouth. He wets it and holds it up, without an ounce of fear that someone other than me might look back. It"s too dark for me to see exactly what he has. My phone buzzes, a video call coming through. I put earbuds in before accepting it. Jack"s face is illuminated for a moment, but then the screen is dark. I look across the bus to see him fumbling under a blanket. What the fuck is he up to?

The screen illuminates again. Jack has the flashlight on under the blanket, and he"s pulling his shorts down. His big cock is hard, and I think for a moment that he"s going to jerk off into the camera like we"ve done before. Instead, he holds the phone at an odd angle, pulling one of his knees up so I"m looking at his balls and asshole. My cock jumps, and I scramble to pull my jacket over my lap to hide my erection.

Then Jack holds an object up to the camera. It"s only a few inches long and tapered. It takes far too long for my brain to catch up with what I"m seeing, only realizing what it is when he angles the camera so I can watch him slowly push the plug into his asshole.

Fucking hell.

Once it"s all the way in, the bottom of it flush with his ass, I notice that there"s a blinking light just before the call disconnects and I"m looking down at the remote control again.

Oh, holy fuck.

JP: It"s nowhere near as big as you, but it vibrates ;)

BN: No.

JP: Come on. Live a little.

JP: I"ll be quiet, I promise.

JP: Make me cum, Coach.

I stare at the phone, frozen, for I don"t know how long. My cock is throbbing with the possibilities of what I can do to him without even touching him.

He coughs audibly when I turn the plug on.

BN: …

JP: My bad, you caught me off guard.

JP: Fuck, it feels good, Coach.

JP: More, please.

I turn up the intensity just a tad and set it to a slow, intermittent pulse. My eyes glance over the seats at him. He"s sitting sideways in the seat with his head resting back against the window, covertly biting his fist in a way that looks casual, but I know better.

BN: What does it feel like?

JP: Good. Pressure. I"m fucking hard as a rock.

BN: Show me.

A moment later, a picture appears on my screen. The lighting of the flash under the darkness of the blanket makes his cock look pale, but even bigger than usual. He sends me another picture of his hand wrapped around the head of his cock, liquid seeping from the slit. My mouth waters. I change the pattern of the pulse, three short bursts and then a longer burst.

JP: Fuck.

BN: You like that?

JP: Not as much as I like your fat cock inside me.

I nearly groan out loud, and reposition myself so I"m leaning back in the corner, with my knee up on the seat to hide my movements. I have to at least reposition my cock before I blow a load in my pants. I turn up the intensity on the plug.

JP: Fuck, I"m going to cum.

Shit, me too. Fuck. What am I going to do with this?

I glance back at him again, and aside from the pained look and sheen of sweat on his face, it looks like he could be sleeping. The bus is quiet. The few that are still awake are focused on the screens in front of them, or their phones. The bathroom door opens, and Grant Gipson walks out. He doesn"t look around at all, heading right back to his seat, leaning back, and pulling his hat down over his eyes.

I"m so stupid.

Pulling my impossibly hard cock against my stomach, I hike my waistband up higher to keep it contained and yank my hoodie down to cover the unmistakable bulge. With a crushing grip on my phone, I stand and make my way, slowly and cautiously, to the back of the bus.

Not one person so much as looks up to acknowledge me on my way back towards the bathroom, nor does anyone notice that I bypass the bathroom and stop in front of Jack"s seat. Standing casually with my back to the rest of the bus, I lean on the seat and pull out my dick at the same time that Jack pulls the blanket away, showing me his trembling, leaking cock. With one hand, I turn up the intensity of the butt plug to high, while my other hand aims my cock, directing the spray of my cum onto Jack"s lap. With a choked gasp, his cock erupts at the same time, splashing against his stomach and lap.

I watch him while I play with the control, moving the intensity up and down while he jerks his cock and pants. I'm certain that if anyone looked back here, they"d either think Jack was hurt or they would definitely guess what"s really happening. But I can"t take my eyes off him, fascinated by the way he keeps going, spasming even after he"s run out of cum.

"God. Please. Stop," he chokes out. I take pity on him, but only because of the likelihood of him drawing attention.

"You should know better than to play with me," I say, tucking my cock back in my pants before closing myself into the tiny bathroom. My head is spinning, like I might have an anxiety attack.

What the fuck am I doing?

I don"t look back at Jack when I leave the restroom to walk back to my seat. Sleep comes easily after the intense release, and I nap the rest of the drive.