Chapter 14: Plugged In
Steve's ready for his second session with Coach, opening himself up in ways he'd never thought possible, and offering him the chance to return the favor.
I woke up the next morning feeling different. Better.
Instead of the anger that had been my default mode, I felt more relaxed. Calmer.
Sure I jerked off almost every day, sometimes twice, but it hardly did the job of what Coach had shown me in his office after practice. Jerking off the regular way was just the tip of the iceberg, but what he’d down me was like a deep dive exploration under the surface, exposing the magnitude of what was lurking underneath.
It wasn’t coming. It was a full body release.
My new attitude showed during practice. I made up with Greg just before, apologizing for having been so aggressive, angry. Ever the statesman, he took in stride. He never knew how to hold a grudge. So long as you appropriately kissed the ring and made amends, you were golden.
After practice we all showered off together, but instead of heading out for home like the rest of them, I made my way back down to Coach’s office as instructed, only mildly anxious about what was in store.
I found him inside, typing away at his computer. He looked up, motioning me in and closing the door behind me.
“How you feeling?” he asked.
“Better,” I replied.
“It shows,” Coach affirmed. “Your performance today was stellar.” He adjusted his baseball cap. “Take care of yourself first, and everything else follows. It’s a lesson for life, let alone the field.”
I nodded back at him.
I could feel a tingling in my crotch, the anticipation as to what we’d do next.
“Seems like you’re feeling better, so maybe tonight you just practice back at home.”
I stared back at him, deflated. My anxiety at what would transpire was real, but my disappointment in never finding out? Somehow, that was worse.
It was then that I realized it, plainly.
I wanted more.
“I dunno,” I started. “I’m not feeling 100% yet. I think we should keep going.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I wanna be the best I can be. For the team.”
His stare didn’t leave mine, as if challenging me.
Did I really mean what I said?
But I held his gaze firmly, refusing to budge.
“All right,” he replied. “But only if you’re sure.”
I nodded back at him, affirmative. Resolute.
He turned around, walking over to the same cabinet as before, pulling out the drawer and rummaging through.
“Strip down,” he ordered, still searching for what he was looking for.
“All the way?” I asked, once again anxious despite pressing him to continue.
“All the way,” he affirmed, “and lay on your back.”
I did as I was told, sliding off my shorts and my shirt so I was totally naked, nothing left to the imagination. My dick was already slightly hard, but rather than conceal it I just let it out, reclining on the table and allowing it to point upward.
I might have been embarrassed, but something about the way Coach comported himself made this feel natural, normal.
Just like yesterday, another drill.
He finally finished rifling through the cabinet and turned around, this time with something new in his hand—a toy, similar, but this time larger, wider, it’s length a series of curved ridges that only expanded until its base. Three of them, to be precise.
“I think this thing will actually stay inside this time,” he said, betraying the slightest grin.
I blushed, remembering the way I’d fully ejected the last one, its weight no match for how tightly wound I was.
I stared at what he held in his hand, nervous. Maybe it would stay inside, but it was a lot to take before it got there. I was both daunted and inspired. But then I remembered how much I’d taken the day before.
If Coach was certain, I was certain. I trusted him.
He knew what he was doing.
