THE CREW - Chapter 20
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Coach "Back"
Passage was an expectant man.
Not, of course that he was expectant in the sense of pregnant - although, from the litres of semen his body had taken in at its various orifices over the years, it ought to have been a definite possibility - but rather in the sense that he was full of anticipation.
After all, tonight was team therapy night.
The night when a specially selected five or six boys would report to his office for a whole variety of the "special treatments", all based on Coach Passage's claim that a boy's body had to be purged of all its muscular and glandular tensions to attain its full physical potential.
The Coach thought ahead to the delights to come.
Little Barty Prior's "excess seminal fluid" - which, the coach had convinced him, was seriously hindering his progress on the running track - would have, yet again, to be drained.
Mike Dwyer's "muscle enlargement exercises" - which appeared to have become becalmed in the vicinity of his already well developed dick - would, no doubt, require further practice.
While Andy Obransky's "sphincter dilation programme" - which, he had been led to believe, would clear out his lower bowel and improve his digestion of the nutrients required for bodybuilding - would no doubt once again provide the evening (not to mention the Coach himself) with its climax.
Yes, "Back" thought to himself, life was good - and even the problems he'd had with the joints in his hands lately seemed to have eased.
So, just for once, you might almost have detected a smile flickering around his lips as he responded to the knock on his office door from the evening's first visitor with his usual "Enter!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Just five minutes later, Coach "Back" Passage was a terrified man.
The session had begun as normal.
Indeed, it had got going rather faster than normal as the newest team member Zak had, as usual, been only too keen to strip off his clothes, hop up onto the Coach's massage table, spread his legs wide apart and hitch them up in the stirrups that "Back" had bought in cheap when the County Hospital's obstetrics wing had closed down.
"I'm having trouble in the back again, Coach", he'd even said.
"You know just where I mean, doncha'?"
"I think I'm gonna need some more of that special internal ointment you rubbed in last time."
Coach had loving pulled on a surgical glove and smeared it with the "special ointment" (simple KY) before idly toying with Zak's puckered hole for a second or two.
He flicked a finger gently at its rim and was delighted to see it respond and open up towards him.
This boy was incredible, thought "Back".
He might never be a good football player - but his other talents more than justified his inclusion in the regular squad.
Gently - but not too gently - Coach "Back" Passage pushed his gloved finger into Zak's soft and yielding asshole.
And, as he did so, both he and Zak simultaneously let out sighs of pure pleasure.
But, within just a few seconds, the Coach's had died on his lips.
For, as he began in his usual way to move the finger all round the lining of Zak's rectum, he found that it wouldn't respond.
His finger was paralysed.
It refused to bend, to twist, to do anything at all he tried.
And, moreover, the Coach found that he'd lost the sense of touch in it too. Far from sensing the warmth of Zak's inner body, the Coach's finger was icy cold and devoid of any sensation at all.
It was, to all intents and purposes, a dead digit.
Oblivious of Zak's comfort, "Back" yanked his finger back out of the boy's hole with a resounding slurp.
He collapsed at his desk, rested his head on his arms and began quietly sobbing to himself.
"It's happened", he moaned.
"Just like the doc said it would.
"It's the end.
"I'll have to quit and give it all up."
He moaned again.
What was the point of his life at all if it was to be lived without his boys - and without his "special therapies"?
It was just as well, at this point, that "Back" had his head buried on his arms on the desk. Because, had he been watching Zak get off the massage table, he might also have noticed the boy reach behind him and, very quietly and carefully, extract a five inch long, hollow, stainless steel tube, just about capable of having an old man's finger inserted into it - and cold, oh so cold - out of his ass and hide it in his sports bag.
Then Zak, still completely naked, crossed the room and looked down at Coach Passage.
He almost felt sorry for the old guy.
But winning the Inter-Crew Cock Contest, he reminded himself, took priority over everything else and he stuck to his plan.
"Hey, Coach", he said quietly.
"You sure can't give up now.
"Where would us jocks be without ya'?
"We sure all need your treatments if we're gonna win our games this season.
"And I've thought of a way we can still do it - but only if you're willing to help."
And, as Zak carefully explained his plan to Coach Passage, the old fella's eyes brightened up.
He would have been hard put, he had to admit, to have come up with a better idea himself.
OK, in the long term maybe he'd still have to give up his coaching - but the kid's plan would allow him to make the most of at least the rest of the current season and, after that, he'd try every specialist in the state - indeed every one in the whole friggin' USA - to see if his sense of touch could be restored.
Right at that moment Coach Passage felt a warm sense of gratitude towards Zak.
And he noticed, once again, that the kid was completely naked.
Indeed, he could hardly help noticing the fact, seeing that he was still sitting down at his desk and Zak's cute and ever eager dick was only a few inches in front of his face.
"I'm going to give your suggestion a try, young man", said "Back".
"It'll just be a secret between you and me.
"But before we begin, I've just noticed that you seem to have a particularly bad case of penis tension there.
"Now, it's nothing to be ashamed of, my boy.
"It happens to all of us.
"Even me.
"Look" - he added, looking down at his own strangely mobile shorts - "it's even happening to me now."
And, with that, Coach "Back" Passage sat up properly, stretched both his arms around Zak's waist and drew the boy towards him.
"I've got a really good way of dealing with your problem today", he said, running his withered and rather brown tongue all around his lips as he did so and then opening his mouth wide as her pulled Zak even closer.
And, as he felt his
own dick enveloped by the Coach's mouth, Zak could almost swear that the old
man's very softly spoken final words had been -
"Maybe (slurp) you can give
me the same treatment (slurp… slurp) when I've finished…?"
Zak shuddered to himself - and thought of the things he'd found himself having to do in order to win this darned competition.
© Rob Maynard /HMBoys.com 2006