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ginger-kicks:

s i l v e r – l i n i n g

“Take your time, catch your breath.”
“I hate this stupid chastity cage. I don’t want to wait another week. I’m ready to do this now.”
“You were probably ready to go last week. I mean, you’re at the top of your game. You’re one of the top in the sport-”
“I am the top. In this region, anyway. Will be East Coast champ soon enough.”
I smile. “Yes. I am confident of that you will be. Your training and patience will pay off. And you know you need the hormones. The release once you win will be extasy. It’s worth the wait.”

Tom punches the bag hard. The muscles in his arm bulge. “Just a week seems like an eternity.”

I step behind him and massage his shoulders, although they’re slick with sweat, trying to get him to release some of the tension. “You’ll feel better after we have sex tonight. You always leak a lot overnight, and if you don’t, we can try some tactics to help you drain a little more if you need it.”
He exhales. “Yeah, that would probably help. Feeling a little sore from how full my balls are.”
“Oh the problems of a virile young man and his big swingin’ nuts.”
He chuffs out his noise. “I am a brute aren’t I?’
“You’re an athlete,” I correct. “A refined and talented athlete. Wrestling is a classic human sport isn’t it? Perhaps the purest there is. No other sport so elegantly shows off the full capacity of the body.”
“There is something about wrestling naked,” Tom says almost to himself. “Something primitivize and amazing.”
“I wish you could see yourself wrestle. You look beautiful. You know, people come up to me the entire night and tell me what a specimen you are. Sometimes I think if I told them to buy you, they actually would.”
That makes him laugh. “Sold like a show pony?”
“Well, sports players are traded aren’t they?” I lean into his ear. “Imagine if all the wrestlers in this league were owned by their trainers….traded like a commodity, housed like dogs, inspected like horses.  You’d just be muscular sex machines for us to use for sport and fuck for our entertainment.”
“Oh shit,” he replies in a husky voice. 
“Your cock enslaved to me as much as your body.”
Tom pushes his ass back against me; I can feel him trembling. “Oh, you’re – you’re getting hard.”
“You make me hard,” I murmur.” I pull his body against mine.
“Can we just – like, right here?” Tom pleads. 
“Take your gloves off, I can fuck you over the wrestling bench.”
“Fuck, that’s a good idea.” Tom sheds his gloves and his shorts. He’s been leaking and his thighs are glistening. Nearly causes me to blow my load. 
“That’s it stud, right there. Oh hell yeah.” I pick up the oil I use to make his skin shiny. “Gonna give you the relief we both need right now.”
“Just – gah.” Tom curses. “Don’t make me cum. Just leak. Need the hormones to fight better.” He bends over the bench and puts his hands on it, ass out.
“That, Tom. That is the attitude of a winner. And winners get cock.” I toss my shorts aside and stride over to take his hole and fill it with my seed.

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“Well, now what do we have here?”
“Oh! Um, Coach that’s …well I- I…”
“Wearing your best brand jock strap to boxing practice? I think you want to impress someone, Richie.”
“Gosh Coach, I’m so embarrassed you found out this way…”
“I think you wanted me to find out. You have a cute butt. I was right about that.”
“…You really been checking me out, Coach?”
“Well not as much as you’ve been checking out me,” he said, releasing the elastic and cupping Richie’s left cheek.
“You could tell??” Richie said, sounding shocked.
Coach tried to suppress a laugh. “Your eyes always lingered in certain places, boy. You are a tremendous flirt and are always trying to get my attention. Too shy to take the first move? Have you worn these for me every time, hoping one day I’d notice?”
“I- I- well -um-”
“You have a hot body, Richie. I mean, I sculpted it myself, but I’ve never gotten to taste it. Why don’t we hit the showers early?”
“Oh wow, Coach, you mean it?”
He reaches around and squeezes Richie’s cock between his shorts. “Unless you want everyone to see you get fucked over the weight lifting bench.”

Richie gulps. “No, Coach, I want you all to myself!”
“You are one of my best students Richie. You know why? Because you listen and respect your superiors. Come on, let’s go. We’ll finish up your lesson later.”
“Yes Coach!” Richie asks, pulling off his boxing gloves in a hurry.

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Text is fictional.