Back of the Bus 2: Coach


       Andy Porter awoke with a scream.   Another nightmare rocked his restful sleep, filled with searing pain and humiliation.   Cupping his head in his hands, Andy sobbed and rolled back under the covers.   The clock said it was 12:23 pm.   Wednesday.   It was only moments before sleep came again, and with it, dreams.
    He's Just like a girl!
    It was Thursday before Andy finally returned to school.   His grandmother had been totally oblivious to the real reason her grandson had elected not to go to school, thinking he simply had stomach flu.   Andy had not the heart or the courage to tell her that he'd been raped by two classmates on the bus.   The Bus driver, he thought, He Knew!  He smiled like he knew!  Anger built within his tattered heart. . . . and then was pushed aside as he walked into English class.
    Jason was nowhere to be seen, hopefully absent.   But Danielle was there.

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    Her hair was held back by a colored 'scrunchie', disappointing Andy just a bit.   He loved her hair down.   Ms. DeLuca smiled and welcomed Andy back as he sat, slowly.   He was still sore from the assault, but tried to push it from his mind.   I've got to keep going.   No one can know!
    The lesson seemed to go fast, ending with a new assignment: two students partnered up by the teacher would make a presentation to show the success of a certain book series.   The choice was theirs, but had to go through Ms. DeLuca first.   The best however came after class.   As Andy began to gather his things, receiving a few jeers from a few minor bullies in the back of the room, Ms DeLuca moved to whisper to Danielle.   At first, Andy thought nothing of it and calmly went to the door, still fighting off the flashes of Tuesday's horrific bus ride home.   Then, a hand reached out and touched his shoulder.   He jumped and turned to see Ms DeLuca's bright, aged face looking back at him with a smile.
    "Andy”, she said ", Danielle here is having a bit of trouble in the class.

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    Do you mind if I chose her as your partner?"  Ms DeLuca always asked, thought she knew no student could or would say no.   Even now, Andy’s face nearly betrayed his joy.   Danielle.   She would be his partner.   He looked over to her, watching as she gathered her books and came to where student and teacher were speaking.   His heart began to race as he swallowed hard.
    "Sure.   As long as I can pick the books. " he said.   Danielle smiled politely, obviously not too thrilled with being group with him, but not disgusted by the fact either.
    As they left the class room, Danielle walked to his side. "Um, thanks for saying yes," she said, her voice reaching a melodious peak in Andy's ear, "I'm kind of failing so. . . "  She trailed off, her embarrassment clear as day.

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    "It's no problem.   You mind the Wheel of Time?" he asked.   In his mind, he hoped she'd read it, wishing that she knew of it and would like him all the more for it.   She shrugged and his heart sank but a little.
    "Doesn't matter.   Could we meet tonight to. . . um. . . figure it out?"  His heart shot up again at the suggestion.   A few minutes later, he walked away with her phone number and the time she would be at his house to study.   Tonight.   His mind was ablaze until Jason’s voice hit his mind like a train.

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    Don't ever look at her again, fag!!  The tears almost came automatically.   He shook them away and ran to his next class.   Gym.
    Coach Faulkner was a large man wit your typical ex-marine look.   Thick, muscular arms, big chin and the crew cut that never seemed to grow.   Most of the kids feared him, and for good reason.   There were plenty of rumors about him.   Some say he was a Navy Seal, others a marine.   But the truth was a rumor that no one ever told.
    Four years ago, Bernard Faulkner was charged with involuntary manslaughter and sentenced to time in poison.   Once there, he quickly devolved into the worst possible prison cliché'.   At first, he simply fought off those that came at him.   Then, one night, a trio of men came to his cell just before lights out.   He frightened off two and caught the smaller one.   He had learned the ways of prison life, and proceeded to show the intruder he knew what it meant using the end of his dick.

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    By the time he was released-only the devil knows how-he had developed an affinity for 'prison sex'.   For him, now, it was a test of strength and dominance.   He managed to keep this from the school board when he was hired-again, another fuck up.   But, up until now, none of these kids had caught his eye.
    Wednesday changed that as he had heard three boys bragging about attacking Andy Porter on the bus.   The three were showering up after basketball, a sport the coach oversaw, and the coach heard it all.   Instantly, his mouth began to water.   His hopes had been dashed only slightly when the he had not seen young Porter in the gymnasium that day.
  Thursday, however, he was.
    Faulkner watched the young teens going through their stretches, looking closely at Andy in his dark gray sweat pants and t-shirt.   He grinned wide as he bent over to touch his toes, showing the curves of his ass.   Faulkner got himself back in the 'I'm-A-School-Teacher' mindset and blew his whistle.   Class began.
    Blood ball was the order of the day, a game of high intensity dodge ball where the other team advanced by knocking out other players.   The games went fast and the kids built up a sweat, which was good. gay escort erito.girls ellen saint escort slovak beauties escort elite rome escorts escorts girls escort russia veronica carso independent escort girls 

    Though showers were not a mandatory post-gym activity, Faulkner decided it was the best, and for him most appropriate, way to get Andy where he wanted him.
    Class wound down and the kids began to get their school cloths on as Coach Faulkner put his plan into action.   He crept into the Boy's Locker Room and looked about, finding Andy almost immediately.
    "Porter! Get over here now.   Rest o' you, wait in the bleachers until the bell rings and. . . " the bell rang, cutting him off.   He nearly smiled.   It was too perfect.   Timing was way too good.   As the rest of the kids flowed from the room, Andy moved very slowly toward the coach and stopped.         "Yes sir?"  He said, nervously.   Andy had never been singled out before, in any class.   Seeing Mr.

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   Faulkner there, all 210 lbs of his, towering like a giant, made him nervous.   He shifted his gym bag on his shoulder.   Faulkner sniffed and reached out, grabbing the bag's strap and flinging it aside.   Andy didn't even fight to hold on.
    "You fuckin' stink son!" he barked, "What's your next class?" He knew already, he just needed to have the boy say it, to trap himself.
    "Study hall, Sir. " he said, meekly.   Faulkner nodded and grabbed Andy's shoulder, pulling him around and hauling him toward the shower.   Andy trembled with fear.   He was being manhandled as if he were some stuffed animal.   The meaty arm holding him thrust him toward a bench.   As Andy rebounded to his feet, he turned to have soap and a towel thrust into his hands.
    "Get your ass in the shower boy!  I'll get you excused for being' late, but you better wash up, you dirty ill shit!"  He barked orders at Andy like a drill sergeant.   Andy moved to bathroom stall to get undressed, shaking with fear everytime another garment dropped.
    Outside, Coach turned on the shower, his erection throbbing in his shorts.

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    He was going to plow this kid's ass and  he knew the kid suspected it. Rounding the corner away from the shower, the Coach waited for Andy to slip out into the large group shower.   Quickly, he shed his cloths and listened.   The sound of running water was muffled for a minute.   Andy was in.   The coach wasted not even a second as he moved silently into the large square room where the boys took thier showers.
    Andy didn't even hear him at first.   Coach just watched him, staring at the boy's ass.   Soon, he'd put the fear in him.   Walking closer gave away his presence, but Andy didn't turn. He only froze, fear griping him already.   Coach reached out with a powerfull calloused hand grabbed ahold of the boy's ass.   Andy shook and tried to move away, but the Coach held him with the grip of another paw on his shoulder.
    "What's the matter?"he asked, mockingly, "You act as if you've never taken it in the ass before. "  He stepped closer as he turned Andy's weeping face toward him.

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    He delighted in the sight.   He touched the top of the boy's head and ruffled his hair with a smile.
    "Just calm down, do as I say and you'll be ok. " He lied, he knew he did.   And he knew Andy knew as well. "Now, get the soap. " Andy obeyed and reached over to the tray.   His mind tried to grasp what might be going on, but he knew he as only pushing it away.   Sometime, probably yesterday, Coach found out about his rape on the bus.   He looked up, pleading with his eyes into a cold, remorseless face, one that reflected his fright back at him: As satisfaction.
    “Now,” he said,” Soap up my cock.   I want it slick as your ass. ”  Andy held still until one of the coach’s hands gripped his and moved it down to the throbbing slab of meat that stood erect at the older man’s waist.   Trembling, and wondering why this was happening to him again, Andy reached his delicate fingers out from his free hand and lightly gripped Bernard Faulkner’s shaft as he brought the soap against the other side.   He heard the coach groan in approval.

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    Slowly moving his hands along the hardened 9 inch rod, Andy worked the soap against skin, cleaning the grown man, soiling his soul.   With fright shooting up his spine, Andy shook and sobbed in quiet surrender.   He could not fight, he could only give in.   The coach’s head tilted back.   He began to mutter.
    “That’s it…like a good little bitch.   Get it good and slick.   I want it in you…Oh baby”  he spoke to Andy like he was a girl.   Andy almost stopped as the lather began to work over his fingers, nearly covering the long cock of the coach.   The larger man pulled him closer, his own hard member pressing to the top of Andy’s pubic mound.   Andy’s loins stirred slightly.   He tensed.   What was going on?!  He wasn’t aroused.   He didn’t even want it.   He knew that his body was reacting of it’s own accord, defending him in some base way from the violation he was feeling.


    His feet began to back peddle slowly, as if being forced backward slowly.   Strong arms from a monster in rapture gripped his shoulders as Andy’s hands stroked the hard member slowly.   The hands turned Andy around, one moving from his shoulder to his soaping hand, taking the soap from him as he was placed face to the wall.   Andy’s forehead touched the light yellow tiles, his bottom lip quivering as a strange hand probed his smooth ass.   A warm bar of soap slicked itself between his cheeks, coating his asshole.   Something slipped in.   A finger.   Then two.   Each time, moving in and out, working the soap in to lubricate him.   Andy grunted and squirmed, trying to get away.   A vain attempt.  
    “Shhhh, It’ll be ok…I’ll fuck you good, “the coach mocked, “You might even come. ”  Thick lather dripped down to the young boy’s balls as the coach tossed the soap lazily aside.   A stone hand gripped Andy’s shoulder as another positioned the cock at the moistened hole.   Coach spread Andy’s legs and scooted down a bit.

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    With aim as precise any predator, he pushed the tip of his monstrous cock into Andy’s asshole.   Andy winced and squirmed a bit only to feel a strong arm around his waist and a full thrust drive the throbbing meat home.   The pain was less than it had been when Jason had fucked him raw on the bus, but Coach Faulkner was massive, thick and hard.   The beast of a man grunted with every quick, savoring thrust.   His cock-head lanced against Andy’s tender prostate, causing the boy’s cock to jump, involuntarily.   Andy wept as the soapy stomach of the Coach slapped against his back again and again, the hard, relentless shaft burrowing deeper into his ravaged ass.   He cried silently, moaning in agony once in a while.
    Coach let his hand wander to the boy’s semi-hard cock.   It was bit for his age, a good 7 inches now.   He stroked with a soapy hand, working the boy’s shaft hard against his will.   Nearly lifting him up off his feet, Faulkner’s paced quickened, each thrust coming sharper and sharper.   Soon, he was piston fucking the young teen’s tight hole with a blind furry.   Ragged grunts escaped the older man’s throat as he nearly pinned the younger body to the wall.   With his hips gripped enough, Coach Faulkner balanced the boy on his piston thrusts as he pulled his hair and forced him to look into his eyes.   Andy saw rage and power.

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    Coach saw fear and surrender.   As his cock buried again, he felt Andy tense, his asshole clenching.   Tears rolled from his eyes as a warm burst of come showered from his teen cock and splattered against one of the coach’s thighs.
    Coach had to time for shock as suddenly he let out a feral grunt and let one big thrust burry his raping cock balls deep to release a torent of spunk into the boy’s ass.   Letting Andy fall to the ground, Coach’s cock popped out with a sickening slap.   He reached down for the soap and tossed it at Andy’s feet.
    “Clean up, cunt.   You speak, you die, get it?
    Later that night, Andy was home again, going over the horrors of the day.   Again he’d been raped by a man.   This time, he’d come, but he knew it was only his body’s natural reaction.   He didn’t want to be taken like that.   He didn’t…A knock came at the door.
    He turned his tearstained face to the doorway, his eyes wide with shock.
    He’d forgotten
    “Andy?” Danielle looked at him, sincere worry about her pretty face. “Why are you crying”
    Could He tell her?  He didn’t know, but it might be worth it to try.

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