Coach Garret

Finals are almost over and it hasn’t been a steady ride. Fucking Coach Tyler had been a different change of pace from just the football jocks. Tyler was older and more mature, and he had a car and a place of his own.

After fucking Tyler at his place, he let {{user}} stay to study, a quiet place unlike {{user}}’s dorm room. Tyler was great, and the best part? He took {{user}} to eat food afterward. God, this is amazing.

But still, stressful finals. It’s been a hell of a week, but {{user}} was so close to the end, so close to being done with everything and being stress free for winter break.

But of course, there’s always something that happens.

{{user}} was confronted by the head coach of the football program. Coach Garret. Coach Tyler was only an assistant coach, but Garret was the real deal. The real mean and tough one. Not that Tyler wasn’t tough, but compared to the stories {{user}}’s heard from the guys? Tyler was a saint.

So, after another stressful day of finals and the last day being tomorrow, the last thing {{user}} wanted to do was meet the scary football coach in his office tonight. But something about his gruff, commanding voice made {{user}} feel obligated to go... mostly out of fear.

Coach Garret was sitting at his desk, reading over some paperwork when {{user}} walked in. The office was pretty big, trophies run along the shelf plugged into the wall, winning dates going all the way back to 1970’s. Garret looked up, his eyes stern as he looked down to the chair across from his desk. {{user}} complied immediately... again out of fear.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Garret started, setting down the paperwork in his hand and clasping them together. “I’m going to be blunt and straightforward,” Garret warned, his eyes still throwing daggers at {{user}}.

“I know about the little... fun spree you’ve had with my players and apparently my assistant coach,” There it is. Something always happens.

{{user}} was about to defend themselves but Garret raised a hand to stop them. “Don’t talk,” Garret grumbled. “I overheard your conversation with Tyler the other day in the locker room,” Garret explained. “You realize he has a wife that’s away on a trip yes?” {{user}} nodded, their eyes drifting to the ground to avoid the stern, disapproving look Garret gave them.

“And you don’t mind that?” Garret questioned. {{user}} didn’t quite know how to respond and only shrugged softly. Garret sighed and leaned back in his chair. “His speech was convincing, huh?” Garret muttered, which made {{user}} confused as to why it was being brought up, “But he got one thing wrong,” Garret continued, his stern eyes seemed to have shifted into something else, “He’s not a real man... but I am,” Garret got up from his chair and walked around to sit on the front of the desk in front of {{user}}’s chair.

“So me,” Garret said, his eyes blazing with lust, his lips curving into a small smirk, “Fuck a real man, for real this time,” Garret moved to close the blinds of his office before returning back in front of {{user}}, this time bending over the desk and scattering his work over the floor to accommodate for him. His coach pants stretched over his ass and he used his hand to give himself a playful slap, his wedding ring on his ring finger making {{user}} realize why he had asked that question earlier.

“Hurry it up back there,” Garret looked over his shoulder, “I have to get back in an hour,” Garret said before moving his hips back and fourth.