Coach's Retained Star E17 | I taunt the quarterback for being the coach's bitch.

Everyone is over the age of 18

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My first instinct when I got back to my room was to touch myself. 

It was one of those urges so strong that I was getting hard before I even got my shorts pulled down to my ankles. 

Everything was like clockwork. I must have masturbated at least a thousand times in my life. Probably more, if we really wanted to do the math. 

The tissue box goes there, the lotion goes here, and a pillow right there… 

I've done this a thousand times, but I haven't in the last month. 

“Oh… fuck…” I moan as my lubricated hand drifts smoothly across my swollen gland. “Mmm…” 

This is the first real time my dick has been wet since I've been on Coach’s retaining program. Sure, I've nutted a couple times hands free, but there is truly nothing like really really pumping it. 

“Oh…oh…” I'm surprised at how verbal I'm being while jerking off, but each sound comes organically with the intense friction between my hand and my wood. 

I wanna cum. 

As the physical pleasure excites each cell in my body, my mind drifts to possible scenarios to blow to. 

My girlfriend, letting me drill her and fill her to the brim. 

A cheerleader, bouncing on it with her perky boobs following a beat after. 

Connor, sucking Coach’s tip. 

No! 

I let go of my shaft and relax every muscle I can control. The residual orgasmic pleasure strikes my heart, and my mind cracks into fantasy again. 

Connor, with his huge dong caged. His groin lifting its prison with the blood trying to fill up his organ. 

Coach, playing with his jock’s nipples to maximize the building sexual tension. 

“Ah…” I lightly grip my cock and feel the fluid take the invitation to rise. I look down at my cock and pull my foreskin back just in time to watch a river of precum flow down my thumb. 

I could cum right now. I stroke myself with precise carefulness, knowing a full pass or a sudden change of speed could unblock the dam. 

What's Coach going to do with Connor? How long will he have to wear the cage for? 

“Fuck…” Another bountiful discharge of precum lubricates my cock in a way that I have to stop. 

Cum.

No. Don't cum. 

Cum. You need it. Every guy needs to clear his pipes.

No. Only the weak ones.

Coach isn't going to take you back. Just blow your load. 

No. He might reconsider if I show him I’m worthy. 

“Fuck,” I grumble to myself as I reluctantly take my hand off. 

I'm not a loser. And, I didn't get recruited to train under the best coach to be benched at the height of the season. 

If Coach thinks retaining is the best option for me, then that's what I'll do. 

It wasn't easy, but it wasn't as difficult as the first time I did it. By the time I got to day 3, I felt ready to show everyone on the team that I deserved to be there. 

FWEEEEEEEET! 

“Jackson and Josh! Daniel and Frank!” Coach calls out from a list. The left side of his long hair flutters on his face from the wind on the field. “Connor and Blake! Tom and Reid!” 

Fuck that. Not Tom. Everyone knows he's not gonna make it past this season with his stats. 

I trot up to Coach and ask him directly, “I want to train with Connor.” 

“I believe we settled that you two together is not productive,” Coach says, not even looking up from his clipboard. 

“Yeah, get lost, rookie.” 

Ow. I jam my heel into the field to regain my center of balance. A light shove from Connor’s massive shoulders, especially when he's wearing pads, truly humbles a man. 

That's why he's the quarterback. Football is a mental game just as much as it is physical. I might have stayed on my feet, but I felt destabilized, and let my demand slide while Coach led Connor and another player on the team away. 

“You ready, man?” 

Fucking Tom. 

“Yeah,” I say, watching Coach pat Connor’s back from a distance. 

Tom has a weak arm, so tossing a ball with him doesn't take much effort. That gives me ample time to check out what Coach and Connor are doing. There sure as hell is a lot of talking going on for drills. 

“Yo, you're supposed to run it back to me!” Tom shouts. 

I wave back, and jog lightly towards my teammate. A loud laugh from Connor catches my jealous attention and I snap my head to the right. 

Coach pats Connor on the back again, and then his hand glides down…

And down…

And down…

I try to “zoom in” with my eyes just to make sure. Coach has never been that public with the way he touches me so I do have a doubt that my mind is playing tricks on me.

Nope, that's definitely an ass grab. 

“HEY!” Tom’s voice blares in my ear and I tumble onto him. He attempts to keep his footing, kicking his feet into my shins and I lose all control to gravity. “Ow! Fuck, man!” 

Where he kicked me hurts more than anything, and that makes sense because Tom took all of the impact of falling down. 

“My bad, dude. Are you good?” I stand up and extend a hand. Another hand extends behind me, and Tom takes that one instead. 

“Are you alright?” Coach Paul dusts Tom’s shoulder off. 

“Sorry, Coach,” I say with embarrassment.  Again, he doesn't look at me. 

Connor steps up and Tom puts his arm around his shoulder. The annoyance boils in my core as Connor helps my hobbling teammate to the benches. 

“Once again, your own mistakes are costing other team members,” Coach says. 

“It was an accident.” The sinking feeling in my chest symbolizes perfectly how I keep digging myself further in this fucking hole. 

“Laps. Until you learn how to run with your eyes forward.” Our team leader turns away from me. 

I ran and ran and ran, until the training was over. I ran, until all the guys went off to the lockers. I ran, until Coach went back to his office. I ran some more, to prove to him and to myself that I’m not a fucking worthless piece of trash.

I can fucking do this! I am not weak! 

My legs were jelly when I finally let myself stop, and they tingled as I trudged towards the showers. 

“Fuck, man. Can you just leave me the fuck alone?” Connor grumbles as I open the door to the change room. 

“What are you still doing here?” I ask, too sweaty and too tired to argue with him. He still looks as grimy as I do, and practice finished at least a half hour ago. 

“Bitch, do you think I want the whole team to see this?” Connor sighs loudly and takes off his shirt. His imposing body is red in patches from the intensive exercises. 

I even believe for a second that's what he was referring to, and then he took off his shorts. 

The cock cage looks even tighter than when I saw it be put on. Maybe it's just a figment of my imagination because I didn't see it so up close before. Every part of his soft schlong pushed against the cage’s holes, probably carving grid imprints onto the skin. 

“Shit,” I say. “How does it… how is it…” 

“How the fuck do you think it is?” An angry slam of the locker accompanies his rough tone. “You a fucking idiot, rookie.” 

Connor walks away towards the shower, and I peel my damp clothes off and follow him. When I get in there, I see that he has already claimed the furthest shower in the corner, and so I place myself on the other end. 

Once again, my eyes wander despite the warnings my logical brain gives me. With how large his frame is, the cage makes Connor’s cock look small and compact. 

“Stop looking, bitch!” Water splashes off his chest. “It’s your fucking fault that I have to wear this!” 

“You fucked me!” I snap back. Without anyone else around, I can finally say my piece to him. “Snitch.”

“Yeah, like your gay ass wasn't going to his office to do the same thing. I just beat you to it,” Connor sneers. “Like I'm going to beat you at everything else.” 

This is why Coach likes us to retain. The unbridled aggressive energy comes out of me like a nuclear bomb. 

“How does his cock taste?” I taunt him, and smile at his annoyed growl. “Bet it tastes better and better each day you can't get hard.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Connor slams his palm on the faucet, making the water stop abruptly. The beastly man turns towards me, his muscle lines acting as river pathways. 

I dispense some soap on my hand and rub my cock, and it transforms into a rock-hard tool in two strokes. 

“Miss this?” I push my boner down so it bounces back arrogantly. 

“You're going to miss it when I rip it off you,” my rival grunts. The satisfaction of pissing him off  fuels me to do more. I step forward, making sure my hard cock swings from side to side for him. 

“You getting hard, buddy? Feel that blood trying to get in there?” I stand right in front of him. He shoves me back but I hold my center and push him in the chest. Of course, it doesn't make him budge at all. 

“Fuck you,” Connor looks down at my stiff boner, and I see the desperation in the tremble of his bottom lip. The cage looks even smaller with his cock grown to the maximum size it is authorized to be. 

“You can't fuck me with that on you,” I say. I hold the trunk of my cock and tap it on his cage. His groin bounces back at me. “Ah!” All my audacity is cut abruptly by his fist gripping my cock. 

“Not so funny now, is it, rookie?” His hand, first holding my shaft tightly, loosens up enough for me to breathe. 

Again, I see Connor weaken as he fondles me like he wishes he could do to himself. 

“You're retaining again.” The blond jock looks at me. He squeezes my shaft to confirm how hard it is. “You're not taking my place again, rookie.” 

“Ah…ah…” His slippery hand caressing me off entices me to touch his locked cock. My hand mostly touches plastic, but my finger tips graze the inhibited member. 

“Oh…” Connor weakens more as I massage what I can. In return, he strokes me faster, and his body trembles like he's doing it to himself. 

“Does it hurt?” I ask quietly, pushing at the swollen gland between the holes. His blue eyes connect with me and I lean in. 

Our lips touch, and I feel my cock expand in his fist. With my free hand, I hold his wrist to stop his stroking. We kiss softly, feeling our pent up sexual energy match and fight against each other, and then ultimately blend into a smooth make out session. 

When our lips naturally come apart, I look down and see that even without the cage, Connor’s cock lifts upwards in an erect position. 

“Keep your fucking distance.” he says. “Fuck up your own life. Not mine.” 

With that, Connor leaves me in the showers with a raging hard-on.