I was held there, just like a rag doll, for several minutes, while Seeman and Greg kissed above me and slowly returned to steady breathing
Then: “I hear the phone goin’ off the hook out there, Greg. Go get it and then we’ll go get us somethin’ for lunch—in a few.”
Then, as Greg padded out the door, picking up his clothes as he went, Seeman tipped me back against his desk, his once-more softened cock still buried up my ass, and I just lay there the small of my back supported by his thighs, exhausted, defeated, my arms flopping down at my side, trying not to concentrate on my inflamed innards. Seeman lifted my legs up so they stretched up the arms of his chair, his torso between them.
“Both Hollings and Nate were right,” he said, as he ran his hands up my legs, stopping to stroke my cock and balls a few times, and then on up onto my torso. “You are one nice lay. Nice balls, nice juicy cock, really nice, tight ass.” And with this, he took the base of his cock in his hand and rotated it around in my hole. My canal betrayed me by grabbing his club and contracting muscles around it. His cock began to stiffen again. His hands explored my flat belly, my abs, and my pecs.
“Great definition in these muscles,” he said. “Athletic. You could be a wrestler. You should come out for wrestling. We have a tight little wrestling group. Your tight ass would be a good addition. What do you say? Come out for wrestling this semester. I could give you some one-on-one coaching.”
I whimpered a nearly silent demur.
“What was that you said?” Seeman asked, his hands digging into my pecs, squeezing my nipples hard.
“Yes, coach. Yes, I’d like that.”
“We could do this about every day,” he said, as he took his cock again and rotated it inside me again. He was recovering, getting bigger. I couldn’t help it; I let out a little moan.
I felt numb with the realization that he wasn’t finished with me, as he pulled his cock out of me, crowned it with a fresh condom, and worked it back into my ass.
“Would you like that? Would you like me in you, fucking your brains out nearly every day?” He had his hands on my butt cheeks, squeezing them.
“God this is a nice butt,” he said. “God, you are a gift from heaven. But you don’t got what I got. You want me in you every day, Stud?”
I murmured, but even I didn’t know what I’d said. He stood and pushed me back down on the desk top with his pelvis, with his rising cock. He took my legs in his hands, behind my knees and wishboned them out. He pulled his cock out almost all of the way and then glided it in up to the hilt.
“What was that you said? I didn’t hear you. You want me to fuck you every day?” Out and then gliding back in.
“Yes, yes,” I answered.
“Yes, yes, what?” Out and then in more quickly and more deeply. Then he gyrated his hips, screwing his cock around in me.
“Oh God, yes, yes, I want you to fuck me.” Out and then plunge and hip gyrations.
“How often. You want me to fuck you how often?” Out, in half way, out, and then dive in up to the hilt. I was panting and moaning and grunting and trying to get a hold on the edges of the desk to keep from being powered off the other side and against the wall.
“This often. Every day. Fuck me every day, Coach.”
“How hard, how deep?” He was pumping me hard now and was breathing hard, leaning into me, his left hand still holding out a leg, but the other one pumping my cock.
“This deep, this hard, Coach,” tears running down my face.
“Ahhhhh,” he screamed, pulling his cock out, ripping the condom off, and shooting off across my belly. He came down on top of me, roughly taking my mouth in his, grabbing my wrists with his hands and pushing them over my head. After deep kissing me, he moved his mouth down my body, licking and kissing and nibbling down my neck; into both of my pits; across my pecs, giving attention to my nipples, giving satisfied sucking and grunting noises, down my six pack, into my navel, along my heaving belly, through my pubic hair and to my cock and balls. His hands followed behind but stopped just below my rib cage, as he took my cock into his mouth, and gently, but rhythmically sucked me off until I had come again.
Then he rose off me and towered over me as he pulled on his T and his shorts.
“Tell Hollings thanks for the gift, Son. You were great. I don’t know how long it’s been since someone could get me off three times in one hour. But also tell Hollings that you’ll be doing more wrestling this year than studying logic.” With a laugh he had turned and swept through the door, not a care in the world, off to a late lunch with Greg. Leaving me to pick up my clothes and my life as I could and to go in search of some more of Lance’s cooling ointment.