Banged By Coach

“Nathan, my office. Now.”

Coach’s voice sliced through the empty locker room, deep and commanding. My heart slammed hard against my ribs as I grabbed my bag and walked toward his door. Practice had ended twenty minutes ago.

And most of the guys had already cleared out, laughing and joking as they headed home. I was supposed to be doing the same, but the second he called my name, my whole body reacted like it always did — completely under his control.

Bella appeared at my side, still wearing her tight leggings and team hoodie. “Nathan, should I come with you?” She smiled up at me, hopeful as always.

“Nope. You can go ahead. See you tomorrow.” I kept my tone light and forced a quick peck on her lips when she leaned in. The moment she turned and walked away, I wiped the spot with the back of my hand, disgusted. Using her as cover was getting harder every single day. I didn’t feel a damn thing for her. Not one beat. 

She was just a shield — nothing more.

I slowly pushed open the door to Coach’s office.

He wasn’t at his desk. The sound of running water came from the private bathroom attached to the room. My mind immediately drifted back to that day — the day I accidentally walked in on him fresh out of the shower. Water cascading down his broad, muscled chest, over his defined abs, and down to that thick, heavy cock hanging between his powerful thighs. I had wanted to drop to my knees right there and take him deep into my throat. I had imagined how perfectly he would stretch my tight hole and ruin me for anyone else.

“Nathan.”

I jolted hard as Coach snapped his fingers right in front of my face. He was standing there in nothing but a white towel wrapped low around his hips, water still glistening on his skin. His dark eyes narrowed at me.

“What the hell were you thinking about? I’ve been calling your name.”

“Nothing, sir,” I lied, my voice coming out rough. My cock twitched in my sweats. I couldn’t stop my eyes from dropping to the deep V of his hips and the obvious outline of his dick under the towel.

Coach sighed and walked over to his desk, grabbing a dry shirt. “Sit down. Since you’re here, let’s talk about today’s practice. You were hesitating on the ice again. You’re our captain — you can’t afford to be soft out there.”

I sat down, trying to focus as he pulled the shirt over his head, muscles flexing. He leaned against the desk, arms crossed, looking every bit the authoritative coach I couldn’t stop thinking about.

“The ice is unpredictable, Nathan. You have to respect it. Don’t fight it — read it. When you’re skating into the corners, keep your knees bent, weight forward. Feel the edges of your blades bite in. If the ice is soft or choppy, shorten your strides, stay low. Trust your edges instead of muscling through every turn. You hesitate because you’re thinking too much. Stop thinking. React.”

His voice was steady and instructional, but the way he looked at me while talking made heat crawl under my skin. I nodded like I was absorbing every word, but all I could picture was him pinning me against the boards, teaching me how to handle something much harder than ice.

“You’re fast. You’re strong. But you’re holding back,” he continued, stepping closer. “On the ice and off it. What’s going on with you lately, Captain?”

This was it. My pulse thundered in my ears. I stood up slowly and closed the distance between us until I could smell his clean, masculine scent mixed with the faint trace of shower gel.

“I’m not holding back anymore, Coach,” I said, my voice low and shaky with everything I’d been hiding for months. My hand came up, trembling but bold, and pressed flat against his chest. His muscles tensed under my palm.

His eyes widened slightly. “Nathan… what the fuck are you doing?”

I swallowed hard, heart racing so fast I thought it might explode. I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Coach, I said, I don’t want Bella. I don’t want any of them. I want you. I want you to bend me over this desk and show me how to really take it. Teach me how to handle every inch the same way you teach me to read the ice.”

The silence stretched between us, thick and dangerous. His breathing grew heavier. His jaw clenched tight. He stood up fast like a flash, then his big hand shot out and gripped the back of my neck hard — the same commanding grip he used on the ice when he was pissed.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for, boy,” he growled, voice dropping into something dark and hungry. His towel twitched noticeably at his hips.

I didn’t back down. Instead, I leaned in closer, pressing my growing bulge against his thigh. “Then show me, Coach. Please.”

His grip tightened on my neck. His eyes burned into mine. The tension in the room was electric, thick enough to cut with a skate blade. For a second, I thought he might push me away. But he didn’t.

This was no longer just a crush, I was all in for it

Without wasting time, Coach crashed his lips to mine.

The kiss hit me like a body check into the boards — hard, overwhelming, and completely consuming. His mouth tasted of mint and raw power. At first he kissed me slowly, almost teasing, his lips firm and demanding as they moved against mine. Then his tongue rolled inside my mouth, stroking deep, tasting every inch like he was claiming territory. A desperate moan escaped me before I could stop it. He swallowed the sound, eating at my lips like he’d been starving for this.

His big hand slid down my chest, fingers circling my nipple slowly, teasing the sensitive bud until it hardened under his touch. I shivered hard. He pulled back just enough to trail his mouth to my ear, hot breath ghosting over the shell.

“Ahhh… Coach…” I gasped.

“You asked for it, boy,” he whispered, voice low and dangerous. His tongue flicked my earlobe, then sucked it into his mouth. The sensation shot straight to my cock, making it throb painfully in my shorts. I curled my toes, gripping the edge of the desk as my knees weakened.

He kept licking and sucking on my ear, then moved lower, teeth grazing my neck. With one rough tug, he pulled my jersey up and over my head, tossing it aside. His fingers found my nipples again, pinching and rolling them until I was moaning openly, hips jerking forward.

“Get on your knees, Nathan,” he ordered, voice rough with need. “Show me how badly you want this cock.”

I dropped instantly, knees hitting the cold floor. 

His thick cock was right in front of me, heavy and leaking. I wrapped my hand around the base, feeling the heat and weight of him. Slowly, I leaned in and dragged my tongue along the underside, savoring the salty taste of his precum. Coach groaned above me, one hand threading through my hair.

I took my time, licking every inch like it was something sacred. I swirled my tongue around the head, sucking lightly on the sensitive tip before sliding my lips down further. Inch by inch, I took him deeper, my mouth stretching wide around his thickness. The wet, slurping sounds filled the office as I bobbed my head slowly, hollowing my cheeks on the way up.

“Fuck… just like that,” Coach growled, his grip tightening in my hair. “Slow and deep. Let me feel that throat.”

I relaxed my jaw and took him even deeper, until he hit the back of my throat. I gagged slightly but didn’t pull back, breathing through my nose and swallowing around him. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but the look on his face — jaw clenched, eyes dark with lust — made it worth every second. I pulled back slowly, strings of spit connecting my swollen lips to his glistening cock, then sank down again, taking him as deep as I could.

Coach’s hips twitched, but he let me set the pace, watching every movement with burning intensity. I sucked him steadily, tongue pressing flat against the underside, moaning around his thickness. The vibration made him curse loudly. My own cock was aching, leaking into my shorts, but I didn’t touch myself. This was about him.

“Shit, Nathan… your mouth feels too good,” he groaned, breathing ragged. “I’m close.”

I doubled down, sucking harder, faster, taking him deep on every stroke. My hand worked what I couldn’t fit in my mouth, twisting gently.

 Coach’s thighs tensed. His hand tightened in my hair.

“Gonna cum down that pretty throat,” he warned.

I moaned around him, looking up into his eyes. That did it. With a deep, guttural groan, he thrust forward slightly and came hard. Thick, hot ropes flooded my mouth. I swallowed every drop, milking him until he was spent, my throat working around his pulsing cock.

He pulled out slowly, breathing hard. Before I could catch my breath, he hauled me up and kissed me again, tasting himself on my tongue. 

Then he pushed me back onto the desk, dropping to his knees between my spread thighs.

“My turn,” he growled.

He yanked my shorts down, freeing my aching cock. Without hesitation, his hot mouth engulfed me. He sucked me deep and slow, tongue swirling around the head before sliding down my shaft. I cried out, back arching off the desk. He took his time, sucking me thoroughly, then moved lower to my balls, sucking one into his mouth, then the other, licking and teasing while his hand stroked my cock.

“Coach—fuck—” I whimpered, fingers gripping his hair. The wet heat of his mouth combined with the sight of my dominant coach on his knees was almost too much.

He alternated between sucking my cock and lavishing attention on my balls, his tongue everywhere. Pleasure coiled tight in my gut. I was shaking, moaning shamelessly, right on the edge.

He looked up at me, eyes dark. “Cum for me, Captain.”

I was shattered. My orgasm hit hard, hips jerking as I came down his throat. Coach swallowed every drop, sucking me through the aftershocks until I was a trembling, oversensitive mess.

He finally pulled off, kissing my thigh before standing up and pulling me into another deep kiss.

This was only the beginning.