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The New College Swimmer

Araucaria

JUB 10k Club
Joined
Sep 9, 2015
Posts
24,592
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3,196
Points
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Location
West Palm Beach area
The young man walked into the athletic offices after swimming in the college natatorium. He stepped in the doorway of an office with the nameplate "Prof. Mitchell" on the wall by the door. Waiting for the raucous laughter coming from inside the room to subside, he asked, "Excuse me, sir, but I wanted to inquire about trying out for the swim team."

Coach Mitchell sat in a swivel chair at the desk, surrounded by three or four student athletes and young assistant coaches. He swung around, looked at the young man as he walked into the office, and said, "Son, you haven't even hit puberty yet!" The remark elicited bawdy laughter from the other guys.

Ignoring the remark, the youth walked right up to the coach. He was well aware that he looked a few years younger than his actual age of 18 years, with a very boyish baby face, slight swimmer's body, and modest height. The fact that he constantly shaved his body hairs also contributed to his childish appearance.

"Stand right in front of me so I can get a good look at you, boy!" Coach Mitchell put excessive emphasis on the word "boy."

Obeying the coach's command, the young man, dressed in nothing but his light blue Speedos, moved forward until he was immediately in front of the coach's chair. The youth repeated his inquiry. "Sir, when are tryouts for the swim team?"

The lewd coach reached forward with his paw, dragging his hairy knuckles over the inquirer's chest and belly. Surprised by this unexpected contact, the youth stayed put nonetheless.

"Sure, you can try out for the swim team, in a couple of years, when you graduate from middle school!"

The coach's buddies howled with laughter.

Although the young man was a bit nonplussed to be made sport of by the coach, he responded, "I'm enrolled here at this college."

"Is that so?" Coach Mitchell said mockingly, eliciting a few titters from his cohorts.

Then he said, "Kid, I don't think you've even hit puberty yet." The lewd coach reached over and pulled the young man's Speedos down.

"Whoa!" yelled the others.

The coach encircled the student's penis with his big, beefy hand, and started playing with it. In response, the boy became totally erect in less than a minute. The coach ran his other hand through the youth's pubic hair, which started a millimeter below the waistline of his Speedos, and then cupped his balls. The assistant coaches and student athletes pulled in closer, like wolves at a fresh kill.

Coach Mitchell jacked the young student off like this, stimulating him. All during this, the perverted coach said things like, "Has your Daddy taught you to masturbate yet?"

"He doesn't have to, you're doing a pretty good job yourself!" The retort elicited more "Whoas!" from the witnesses.

After a few minutes, the coach brought the youth to orgasm, as he sprayed his ejaculate all over the coach, to the applause, whoops and hollers of the witnesses.

"Hey, at least we know the guy's hit puberty!" yelled one of the hangers-on.

A few moments later, the real swim coach walked by, going down the hall.

"Hey, got a swimmer for you, if he's old enough!"

The man walked in, saw Coach Mitchell covered with semen, and the college student in front of him, Speedos down, penis exposed, surrounded by the coach's lewd entourage.

Suppressing a look of disgust, the second coach said, "Leave my swimmers alone!" which brought laughter from Coach Mitchell's friends. The young student stuffed his penis back into his Speedos with some difficulty, since his erection hadn't gone down yet.

The second coach told Coach Mitchell, "By the way, you're ten minutes late for roll call for your Beginning Tennis class!" To the young man he said, "Come with me."

"I'm Coach Corbett."

"I'm Kyle Atkins," the student said, and they shook hands.

When the two reached Coach Corbett's office, the coach asked, "Did Coach Mitchell just sexually assault you? I can help you file a report. He's done that sort of thing before."

"Naw, that's OK." Kyle answered in his baritone voice, sounding surprisingly unconcerned.
 
This story works on several levels. The professor who suspects the new guy is under age is on the one hand a paedophile and yet more clearly on the other, a bully who shows off in front of his entourage of sycophants. When the coach offers to expose him for what he is, the new 'boy' on the block says he had in fact consented to the 'assault'. So, no harm was done, or was it?

The story highlights what all too often happens when a person, male or female, is seeking a place on a team or employment, etc. They may [grudgingly] consent at the time but much later and with hindsight choose to expose the 'bully' for what he was.

As a short story, this one has to be thought provoking and does carry a message!
 
I love the way this guy writes and I think he has a really wicked story concept here. So I say let him move on with nothing but encouragement and we can see who he makes cum first. Araucaria. Your doing real good with this one. Bring on more.
 
Coach Corbett had a strong dislike for Coach Mitchell, though he made every effort not to show it. Coach Mitchell was lewd, rowdy, bawdy, and perverted. The only reason he still has a job at this college is because he's the college president's nephew, or whatever the relationship is. I'm not trying to get him fired, I'm just trying to do the right thing, he reasoned.

"I would have warned you to stay away from Coach Mitchell. He has serious moral and personal boundary issues, and has nothing to do with swimming." Coach Corbett felt upset, grieved even, that he couldn't prevent Kyle from becoming one of his victims.

"I was asking when the tryouts for the swim team begin," Kyle changed the subject.

The two talked for a while, and it turned out that Kyle had been a somewhat successful swimmer in high school. Coach Corbett looked up Kyle Atkins in the computer, and found him to be 18 years old, enrolled as a Freshmen, had reasonably good grades in high school, and so on.

Coach Corbett walked Kyle back through the natatorium, to give him the tour. "This is the Jeffrey Wilson natatorium. Jeffery Wilson was on the swim team, and was killed in an auto accident back in the 60s. His affluent parents donated the money to build this place in his memory. That's why this small college, which doesn't even have a football team, has such nice swimming facilities.

"You'd think that with this facility, that there'd be quite an emphasis on swimming here at this college. Unfortunately, it seems to ebb and flow. Before I came here, some years the swim team were an afterthought. Even now, I just put in the requisitions for all the expenses to run the pool, the natatorium, and the swim team, daring only to request part-time assistant swim coaches. If I ask for too much, I'm afraid the administration won't be happy, and the rest of the athletic department will become resentful. When the college president asks me what I need, I'm diplomatic, and tell him that, if he just wants a swim team in lower level competition, he needs to spend only this much, but if he wants a really competitive team, he'll have to shell out a lot more."

As they walked and talked, Coach Corbett looked over Kyle Atkins. Being so youthful and thin, and dressed only in his skimpy Speedos, Kyle looked so vulnerable. If he had met him on the street, Coach Corbett would have guessed Kyle to be maybe 16 years of age, tops. The coach felt so protective of the boy, actually young man-- The coach had just seen proof that Kyle was 18, but otherwise, wouldn't have believed it.

He felt anger and even rage that sleazy Coach Mitchell had already sexually assaulted, or raped, or abused, or whatever you call it, this young innocent boy. Something inside him wanted to turn in the evil coach, to protect Kyle and other innocent young men like him. He felt a righteous indignation and frustration that the other coach could just keep doing this. But the boy didn't seem interested in turning him in.

Or was he just jealous because Coach Mitchell had beaten him to this young man?

"Coach Corbett, you can time me right here if you want."

Why not?

The coach got out his stopwatch, and Had Kyle do the 50 yard, the 100 yard, freestyle, 200 yard, etc. The kid didn't look like much, physically, but he was swimming times that Coach Corbett hadn't seen on his team since he started working at the college. By the time he was through and out of the pool, Kyle was huffing and panting. The coach reminded himself that usually swimmers don't have to do all those races at once, so the young man shouldn't wear himself out. I think he's got stamina.

Coach Corbett walked with Kyle Atkins back to the locker rooms.
 
"Why don't you like Coach Mitchell?" Kyle asked as if he couldn't see why I had negative thoughts about him.

"Well, he's crude, selfish, predatory in his dealings…" I began. After all, this was a small religious college, which made Coach Mitchell's continued employment here all the more remarkable. I rattled on several more reasons. "He's not married, I think he was married once some years ago, but that didn't last long. He just has promiscuous sex a lot."

"Are you married?"

Kyle's question took me aback. "Uh, no."

Kyle stripped off his Speedos in front of me. He had the typical swimmer's balls, when they pull up tight after being in the water, which always make their dicks look small. Nonetheless, I checked him out amply. His penis had appeared quite respectable when it stood erect, right in front of Coach Mitchell.

He threw the Speedos on the bench right next to where I was sitting. Was that an accident, or was he trying to give me a signal?

I watched Kyle take a shower, and talked to him while in there. I have to admit that I enjoyed the view, taking it all in.

He walked out of the shower, and toweled himself off. I couldn't help but give Kyle a playful slap on his plump little butt cheeks, as he bent down to get his clothes out of his locker. I meant nothing by that, just an innocent pat, or at least that's what I told myself. Kyle said nothing, but looked at me, and the expression on his face told me he interpreted my gesture to mean more-- much more.

The young student got dressed in front of me, and walked out of the locker room.

"See you soon, Coach Corbett!"
 
Certainly sounding like a promiscuous college. Kyle needs protection.
 
The next time I saw Kyle Atkins was in the middle of the college campus. I hardly recognized him, as he wore regular student clothes, not half-naked in a Speedo, or completely naked in the locker room.

"Hey, Coach Corbett!" Kyle returned the slap on my ass as he bounded up to me like an energetic dog.

"I was just about to go home."

"Cool! Can I come along?"

"Sure, why not?" I heard myself saying, though I rarely give students a ride, and almost never invite them into my home.

We jumped into my sports car convertible, now too old to really be considered a status symbol, but too new to be considered a classic. We probably looked quite ordinary, as we rode through the streets of the quiet, conservative college town. But Kyle looked as excited as if he were riding in Malibu with a top movie celebrity. I couldn't shake the strange feeling that I was doing something vaguely illicit.

Arriving at the apartment complex where I lived, I led Kyle to my apartment on the second floor. I liked living here. It was quiet and secluded, with a small creek running in back of the complex, with the natural woods left along the banks. It was quite a popular residence for many of the students from our small seminary.

Having only a small amount of leftovers for myself, I had a pizza delivered to feed Kyle and myself. I offered Kyle beer with his pizza, even though that action could get him expelled and my teaching position revoked, should the administration ever hear of it.

I showed Kyle old pictures, home movies, and memorabilia from my years of being the swimming coach at the college, and talked about former swimmers on my teams.

"Coach Corbett, will you take me to your bedroom?"

A rather unusual request, since I had already shown him the whole apartment, including the bedroom. Nonetheless, I led Kyle into my bedroom, and was making small talk while the two of us sat on the edge of my bed.

Suddenly, my young swimmer planted a firm kiss on my lips, and held it there. He's all yours, take it, fool! A little voice inside my head told me.

I held him, kissed him, undressed him. The beautiful young man was all mine, to look at, hold, and touch, as I pleased. I rubbed his body, kissed it all over, took his penis in my mouth, and blew him. I brought him to orgasm, finishing that last few seconds jacking his cock, making him shoot his semen all over himself. I lapped up his hot cum, savoring Kyle's taste, strong and surprisingly bitter to be coming out of such a sweet boy.

Next, the young man took care of me, as he sucked the cock of his coach and teacher. I told him I wanted to come all over him, so he made me shoot my cum in his sweet baby face.

"Can I sleep with you tonight, Coach Corbett?" There was something I liked about Kyle addressing me that way. It made him sound like an innocent student, an eager but naive boy copping an older authority figure into having illicit sex with him. If I told him to call me by my first name, it would make him an equal, fully knowing, fully in charge. I wanted to keep him as the innocent young man, looking up to me to teach him about life, love, and sex.

I held Kyle in bed, as we engaged in pillow talk. Somehow I mentioned coach Mitchell.

"Him? Don't worry. You two are nothing alike. You're like the man I want to marry. Coach Mitchell's like a quick fuck at a dirty bookstore. There's no comparison." I took comfort in that, taking it to mean that I won Kyle's affection over the perverted coach. I didn't consider the possibility that he might want both a husband and his dirty bookstore trysts.
 
Kyle recognized the swarthy, dark-complexioned young student in the locker room as a witness to Coach Mitchell's assault of him, and immediately slapped him on the ass.

"Hey!"

The swimmer leaned against the lockers, smiling at the young man. "Hey there, I believe your name is Tom. You enjoyed watching Coach Mitchell take advantage of me." Kyle added salaciously.

The other student didn't move or say anything, but eyed the swimmer.

"I'm all yours if you want me.." Kyle said, winking. He moved forward, catching the other young man in his confusion, wrapped his arms around him, and planted a kiss firmly on his lips. Kyle continued kissing Tom, until they exchanged passionate French kisses.

Kyle got on his knees, and started sucking Tom's penis. "We'll put this to good use shortly."

Kyle stood back up, and the two naked men looked at each other. Tom didn't move, as if he didn't know what to do next.

"Fuck me, you dumb jock!"

With that command, Kyle took a small bottle, and lubed up Tom's cock with it. Directing him to a bench, Kyle guided Tom's penis into him. "Push it in, deep! Have your way with me!"

With a bit of instruction from Kyle, Tom thrust his cock into eager Kyle's ass, taking his pleasure from him, until his balls slapped against his seducer's flesh.

"Yeah, that's it," yelled Kyle. "Fuck the hell out of me, bitch!"

The young man pounded away at Kyle until both young men dripped with sweat.

"Yeah, cum up my ass! Give it to me!'

The young man ejaculated inside Kyle, as Kyle also shot his load on the bench underneath them.

Just at the final moments of their intercourse, Coach Corbett happened to walk into the locker room. Horrified at what he saw, he stood there, speechless. Suddenly he felt a slap on his back.

"You've got a really hot swimmer there, in more ways than one!" He recognized the voice of Coach Mitchell. "i don't think you'll be able to control him."
 
Where to begin with this story!! Please continue story so I can clarify my thoughts concerning this story
 
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