Sawyer Chronicles
Mom left when I was 12, it was devastating for my older brother and I. We lived with Dad, she stayed in touch but she’d left to be with someone on the other side of the country so we didn’t see her much. After the initial fallout of her leaving, we got on as well as we could have. Dad became a single parent and really, he did a bang up job. I was never left wanting or felt neglected.
My older brother, Chris, was fantastically gifted in the arts. No one knew where he got that talent from, Dad and Mom were both athletes. They had met at an awards banquet in college, where Dad played football and Mom starred on the volleyball team. But low and behold, Chris excelled in just about anything creative. He headlined school plays, contributed to art shows with paintings and photography, he even wrote and made a few short films with his friends. That was where his passion was. He’s four years my senior, and all too soon, he had left home to go to film school when I was 14.
When Chris left for school, the house felt bigger than before. Almost too big. Through all the changes, Dad made sure I was cared for and knew I was loved. It was around that time when Dad’s construction firm started to take off. Out of college, Dad and one of his buddies started a construction company. Slowly, over the years, they built it up from taking on small projects, to building homes, to now being contracted for large scale commercial projects all over the region.
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“Great game, Sport!” Dad hollered as I exited the locker room. He wrapped me up in a bear hug like always. His 6’3” muscular frame enveloping me and I relaxed in the comfort and safety of his embrace. “Let’s grab some grub, you hungry?”
“Starving!”
“You’re always hungry, I’m going to have to take another job just to feed you.” Dad joked.
I followed him to his truck. The late spring air was warm but not yet humid, I’d just scored two goals against my high school’s biggest rivals. At 16 years old, I was starting to set myself apart on the football field and the lacrosse field.
We ended up at our favorite burger joint. Dad sat across from me, I admired the way his polo shirt, emblazoned with Sawyer Construction, stretched across his huge chest and shoulders. His arms filled the sleeves and in the air conditioned restaurant, his nipples poked into the fabric.
“Don’t forget to breathe, Robby.” Dad teased as I scarfed down my food. I gave him a little side-eye, no one called me Robby anymore, no one except Dad still used my childhood nickname.
Dad sipped a beer and we chatted a little before heading home. On the walk back to the truck, Chris texted me congratulations on the great game. Dad had told him how we did, he wanted to make sure that we stayed close as a family. In the moment, I never realized how lucky I was that Dad made it a priority to come to my games and take an interest in my life. Granted, he couldn’t make it to all of them, but more often than not, he was there in the stands cheering me on.
“How’s Diana?” Dad asked in the truck on the way home.
“We uhh… aren’t together anymore.” I said sheepishly.
“I should have guessed, you haven’t talked about her much lately. It’ll be ok… anything you want to talk about?” Dad asked, he was good at asking questions but not prying.
“I don’t know… not really… it didn’t feel right.” I tried to explain.
“Then it’s a good thing you didn’t force it. A good thing for both of you. You’ll know it's the right girl when it feels right.” Dad’s deep voice was soft and understanding.
“It felt wrong not because she’s not the right girl… I… it felt wrong because I don’t think I want that. I… I don’t think I want that with any girl… “ I stared down at the floor mats of Dad’s truck. The words lingered in the air, neither of us saying anything. “Dad, I’m gay.” I exhaled, not realizing I’d been holding my breath.
“Look at me, Robby.” Dad said, as he pulled into the driveway, his voice even and tough to read. “I love you and I’m proud of you. Nothing will ever change that.” He said firmly, his hazel eyes soft with love. “Get over here and give your dad a hug.” Dad added as we got out of his truck.
I found myself in his warm embrace again that afternoon. That time I felt lighter than I ever had before. I had tears in my eyes as we broke the embrace, I had known I was gay for a long time, it took even longer for me to accept it. The emotional relief I felt after telling Dad felt like 40lbs had been taken off of my shoulders.
“Aww, Sport, you’re gonna make your old man emotional too.” Dad teased, with misty eyes, as he pulled me in for another hug before we headed inside.
The only thing that changed between Dad and I that day was that he no longer asked about girls. I was thankful that he didn’t treat me any differently. That evening we stayed up late watching the late baseball games together. It was a Friday, I could have hung out with friends, but I wanted to be with Dad.
Not only was he an amazing Dad, but he was the long term object of my lust. Mentally, I credited him with my acknowledgment of my sexuality. He was more often than not the main character in my jerk off fantasies. To me, he was the paragon of masculinity. I wasn’t alone, I’d long since noticed how women looked at him with similar lust filled eyes as my own. Of course I knew that nothing could happen, but that didn’t stop my mind from working overtime.
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The next few years seemed to fly by. School and sports kept me busy. I was a standout football and lacrosse player and, to a lesser extent, I excelled at basketball. I began gravitating more towards football. I knew Dad was proud I was following in his footsteps, but he would push me in that direction. Dad even encouraged me to look at other schools for college.
I had a lot of attention from schools to play football for them, including Dad’s alma mater, State U. While I was interested and wanted to go to State, Dad made it clear that I needed to look at other places as well. He didn’t want me to go to State just because he had.
“I can’t believe you caught that, Bro!” Paul Gelson hollered after I made a diving catch.
“Gelson! He was double covered! What did I tell you about throwing into coverage like that?” Coach Hayes boomed from the sideline.
“But Rob always comes down with it!” Paul shouted back, pressing his luck.
Coach Hayes grumbled under his breath, but Paul was right. He was also the biggest recruit in the state. Paul was my best friend, we were teammates, and mostly inseparable. He was the star quarterback and I was a standout wide receiver. Coach Hayes tried to rein us in on the field but he couldn’t deny how well we produced.
We continued running drills in the late summer heat. The sun was approaching its zenith as Coach Hayes kept us at it. Summer practices had been more intense than the last few years, we had a really strong senior class and it was clear that Coach H thought we had a shot at the state championship.
“Alright, boys! Great work today, hit the showers!” Coach Hayes announced with a blaring whistle.
The seniors made our way to the main school building that housed our locker room. The coaches and underclassmen stayed behind to pick up the field. Paul and I chatted about our plans for the day, it was our last week of freedom before our senior year of high school started. We made plans to meet over at the Gelson house later that afternoon.
It gave me time to head home, eat something, and hit the weights Dad had set up a detached garage. The team had already had a weight session in the morning before practice, but I was determined to do everything I could to excel on the field. One of the ways that manifested was I frequently hit the weights twice in a day.
The Gelson’s house was on a double-sized lot. They made use of all that extra space with a large pool area out back. It had turned into something of an oasis for Paul and I and our crew of buddies. We spent countless summer hours out there tossing the ball, rough housing in the pool, flipping off the diving board, and anything else we could think of.
Paul was already out back when I arrived. His parents both worked so we had the place to ourselves, which wasn’t unusual. By this late in the summer Paul and I were both deeply tanned. Paul was a stud, 6’4” built with lean muscle, ruddy cheeks, bright blue eyes, and sandy blond hair that was usually mussed up. I had just hit 6’2” and carried a more lean, wiry, and lanky build naturally. Over the past few months though, I’d felt like I saw some progress in the mirror.
We relaxed by the pool, talking about the upcoming year. We described what we thought it would feel like winning the state title, how we’d be legends if we did. “What if we ran the tables, Rob? You and me, winning state ‘chips for football, basketball, and lacrosse?” Paul offered.
“You know we could… What a way to graduate. They’d probably name the gym after us.” We both laughed at the thought.
As the sun started getting lower in the sky, Mrs. Gelson came out back to check on us when she arrived home from work. Mrs. Gelson was gorgeous, shapely body, full tits, and pert ass. The guys always teased Paul about how hot his mom was, much to his chagrin. I was hoping to see Mr. Gelson, but it appeared he was working late.
I headed home, I knew Dad would be getting back from work soon, and when we could, we liked to make dinner together. That evening we collaborated to grill some chicken and veggies with baked potatoes. Our cooking skills could be pretty limited but we made do and enjoyed the time together.
“You need to be careful working as hard as you do. I know you want to get bigger and stronger but it’ll all be for nothing if you get hurt.” Dad chimed in as we caught up on each other’s day. He was often worried that I was overworking myself.
“I know, Dad. But I think I’m finally making progress. Even Coach says I’m looking stronger and not getting as easily knocked off my lines.” I defended myself.
“You’re making great progress, Sport. I see it too. Before you know it, you’ll be a big old brute like me.” Dad emphasized his joke by playfully popping his huge pecs through his Sawyer Construction polo shirt.
I couldn’t help grinning like an idiot. I idolized the man, the 44 year-old chuckled at his own joke. His eyes crinkled, the lightly weathered skin adding character to his handsome face. His hazel eyes always shone bright, full of life. He kept his brown hair neatly cut short, in the right light flecks of silver were just beginning to appear. And while he had shaved that morning, his heavy beard was already casting a shadow.
I could have sat there just watching the thick cords of his muscled arms flex and relax as he manipulated his utensils while eating. The brown hair on his forearms was finer, somehow accentuating the strength they projected.
Dad kept the conversation moving, filling me in on a big new contract he was hoping to get. Lately, he’d been working to bring his construction firm closer to the cutting edge with sustainable building practices and environmentally friendly commercial structures. It had started to make some waves regionally in the industry, bringing new attention and the potential of new and lucrative business.
“You know, Robby, I’m really going to miss this.” Dad lamented as he cleared the table together.
“What? Cleaning dishes?” I joked, as Dad’s big frame manned the sink while I cleared the table and cleaned the countertops.
“Not quite.” the older man chuckled. “But this time next year, you’ll be off at college.”
“Dad, you know I’ll visit.”
“It won’t be the same…” Dad lamented. “Look at me, you’re growing up and I’m making it about myself.”
“It will be weird not having you around all the time.”
“Oh, I think you’ll manage. You’ll learn to like it not having me around to cramp your style.” Dad playfully elbowed me in the ribs as I handed him the last of the plates.
After dinner, Dad had some paperwork to do and I went to my room. I considered playing some Call of Duty, but my cock needed attention. At 18, it constantly needed attention. I flopped down on my bed and tugged my shorts down. On my phone, I pulled up a video of a fit older man and a younger jock going at it. In no time, my cock was fully engorged. I was proud of my endowment, my spike was at least 8 solid inches with a hefty girth. Best of all, I was uncut. I loved the play with my foreskin as I pleasured myself.
I often wondered if Dad was uncut, what about Coach Hayes? The porn playing from my phone and my digital ministrations had my cock oozing precum. I reached for the container of vaseline that I kept in my night stand, letting a glob of the petroleum jelly melt onto my warm member. I put my phone down, gathering some extra vaseline in my left hand, I reached towards my taint.
With the sounds of the porn as a backdrop, I played with my taint, edging closer and teasing my hole with my left index finger. My right hand kept steadily stroking my rigid dick. I let my thoughts drift, from Dad, to Coach H, thinking about what it would be like to see them naked. To have their hands on my cock, to have my hands on their cocks.
I was completely inexperienced, but I knew I liked older guys. It didn’t take long for me to be close to blowing. The thought of some of the hunky men in life was really all I needed at that point, I was swimming in late teenage hormones. I heard the older man in the porn vid call the jock “son” and my cock began to spurt.
Thick volley after volley of hot jizz spewed from my flared cock head. I painted my defined abs with my teenage spunk. I kept jerking, slowing slightly to ride out the aftershocks. The bits of cum oozed from my piss slit and down my thick shaft. I gathered my cum, rubbing it over my abs, savoring the feel of my ripped muscles under the skin, riding the post orgasmic high.
The next week, after a particularly gruelling late afternoon practice, just days before senior year of high school started, I stayed late to hit the weights again at the school weight room. I’d had a terrible practice, losing my concentration repeatedly, resulting in dropped balls, missed blocks, and all around sloppy play. Coach Hayes had chewed me out in front of the team. He held the seniors, especially the star players to a higher standard.
Not being happy with how I played or the effort I gave, I decided to get another weight session in. It always helped me refocus. As I was getting situated for my first set, Coach Hayes walked in. He didn’t expect to see me, but I knew he wasn’t shocked. It was known that I pulled double sessions at times. It was also known that Coach H either lifted with the team or after practice. What was surprising was that I’d never run into him after practice in the weight room. Probably because if I was putting in a second session, I tended to do that at home.
“Sawyer, don’t go burning yourself out.” Coach Hayes said in way of a greeting.
“I won’t, Coach. We both know I need to get stronger, especially playing in college next year. Plus after such a shit day on the practice field I needed to get my frustration out.” I rambled, Coach Hayes always made me a little uncomfortable. He was tough but not an outright disciplinarian. That coupled with my attraction to man always gave me butterflies in my stomach when I was around him.
“You’re too hard on yourself, Sawyer. No one works harder than you do… on the field or off. You’re allowed to have a bad day. I wish the rest of the team was half as dedicated as you.” Coach H tried to make me feel better.
He was right, but his words didn’t make me feel better. I took solace from his genuine smile as he said them. Coach Hayes was a stud, a former tight end who even got drafted before injuries stole his pro career. He carried a deep tan from the summer practices, his hair sun-bleached a shade or two lighter than his usual dark blond. The man’s green eyes were intense and when he smiled, he flashed pearly white teeth.
“If I can’t convince you to rest, then I guess I’ll have to join you.” Coach Hayes said light-heartedly.
It was rare to get one on one time with Coach H. As the head football coach and one of the history teachers at school, he was in demand. We fell in a rhythm, alternating sets and spotting each other. All the while we chatted. I really liked getting to know my coach better, but the more I learned the more attracted I was to him. We commiserated over the college recruitment process and how it can be long and drawn out. He also couldn’t help but make sure I was staying out of trouble.
“You have a good head on your shoulders, Sawyer. You need to keep it that way. You’re going places, have your pick of scholarship offers, you don’t want some off the field messiness to take that all away.” The 36 year-old coach advised as we stood from the weight bench.
“I try, Coach. I really do.” I responded, mentally trying to drink in the way his chest stretched his Central Football t-shirt.
“I know, you’ve got good grades and I’ve never gotten complaints about you. Keep it that way.” The authority figure cautioned. “And watch out for girls. I know what it’s like to be your age, but be careful and safe. A couple of minutes of fun isn’t worth the fallout if you knock her up.”
I broke his gaze, looking down at the floor, my face sheet white. I should have played it cool, but his warning about teenage pregnancy caught me off guard. All the guys on the team were always chasing chicks, I would join the chase but only half heartedly as I didn’t want to raise any suspicion. I just wasn’t ready for everyone to know.
“I’ll try, Coach.” I mumbled, unable to meet his eye line.
I’m sure Coach Hayes had clocked my reaction. The whole vibe had shifted from friendly conversation to something more cold and distant. Coach H was still chatty, but I knew he was sticking to topics that were more light, I could kick myself for not playing along, usually I was better than that.
“Alright, Sawyer, I think that’s enough for today.” Coach Hayes said as we finished the last set of dips, his t-shirt stained a color darker with sweat, clinging to his body. “Hit the showers and get some rest. You’ve been pushing yourself hard lately and we’ve got our first game coming up.”
“Thanks, Coach. It was good to have some company.” I lied. Or it was at least half a lie, after the talk about girls I wanted to be anywhere else but the Central High weight room.
In the locker room, I stripped my sweat drenched clothes off before heading to the open shower area. Some guys didn’t shower in the locker room after practices, but surprisingly, it never bothered me. To me, it was all part of the camaraderie. Plus, I thought if I was shy about it, it might raise unwanted suspicion. I hadn’t realized how much of my life revolved around trying to stay in the closet.
As I got situated under one of the shower heads, Coach Hayes walked into the main shower area. He was shirtless, wearing his workout shorts and shower shoes, a towel slung over his shoulder. My jaw dropped as I stared at his bare upper body. His big chest was pumped from the workout and covered with a smattering of blond hair matted with sweat. Pink nipples poked out in the cool air. His midsection carried a faint outline of abs with a treasure trail of blond fur thickening from above his navel down to the waistband of his shorts.
“Hot water in the coach’s showers is busted. Ok if I join you?” Coach H asked, sidling up to a shower head two away from mine.
“Uh… yeah… sure.” I mumbled, suddenly terrified.
I’d thought about this type of situation countless times while jerking off. But the reality was much scarier, what if I threw a boner? What if I get caught staring? How could I act natural? I had a pit in my stomach as Coach Hayes started to shed his remaining clothes. It seemed like time slowed down, he hooked his thumbs into his shorts to slide them down his thick thighs. After stepping out of the sweaty shorts, the mid 30’s man was clad in only a white, standard issue jockstrap.
Coach H started the water, course correcting the dial to find the right temperature. As his back was to me, I had a view of his sculpted ass framed by the straps of his jockstrap. He appeared to have some blond fuzz on the globes of muscle, lighter than the rest of his hair. His back formed a V tapering to his waist with muscles that rippled when he moved. As he turned back, I saw that the pouch of his jock was filled out with a hefty bulge.
“Hot water seems to be working fine out here.” He said to me as he found his ideal water temperature.
I knew I was throwing a boner, I quickly turned away from him. I wanted to see him take off his jock but I didn’t want him to see how excited I was for it. I hoped that I’d be able to steal some glances to save the memories for later when I ran home to jerk off. I waited a little before looking over my shoulder. Coach H had sudsed up his body, including his face so his eyes were closed. I turned to face the man as he continued to soap his body.
His cut cock was heavy, plump, and hanging between his legs with a pair of low hanging testicles. His bush was thick, leading up to the treasure trail of blond fur matted to his stomach with soap and water. My cock throbbed as his hands roamed his soapy body before stepping back under the flow of water. The warm water cascaded over his body, washing away the suds, channeling in the valleys between the ridges of muscles.
The older man’s eyes started to open and I quickly turned my back to him. The warm water cascading over my ripped jock body. My cock throbbed at a 45 degree angle, aching for release. It was only then that I realized I didn’t have an exit strategy. I was rock hard in the showers with Coach Hayes with no way to leave without him noticing.
“You don’t have to keep hiding that thing, Sawyer.” Coach H said, as if reading my mind.
My blood ran cold, even under the steaming flow of water.
“Huh?” I played dumb.
“You’ve been trying to hide a hardon since I walked in. I’m not blind.” Coach Hayes replied, my back still to the man.
“Coach… I… it’s not what you think…” My mind went blank.
“You’re not the only one who’s hard up.” Coach H continued.
I half turned towards him. Coach Hayes stood under the stream of water, letting it run over his built, blond-furred body. To my amazement, his cock seemed to have grown since I last stole a glance. The tough but fair high school football coach had a slight smile on his face, giving me a wave of relief that he wouldn’t kick my ass for boning up.
“Thanks, Coach.” I muttered as I turned fully towards him, my cock aching with rigidity.
“You got a great piece, Sawyer, no need to hide it.” Coach H said matter of factly. “Just be careful with chicks, trust me… my wife gets pregnant at the drop of a hat.” Coach Hayes chuckled.
“Yeah… sure… I mean, I… I am… uh, careful…” My brain was short circuiting.
Usually, I was better at faking locker room talk about girls, but I had trouble and I feared my discomfort with the topic was too obvious.The candidness with which Coach Hayes spoke threw me for a loop. He typically didn’t talk much about his home life with the team. We knew that he was married with kids, his wife would bake treats for us occasionally and host us for pasta dinners the week of big games. But, he was mostly all business.
“I’m sure you are, Sawyer. You got a good head on your shoulders… Even if it’s not with chicks, be careful and safe.” Coach H seemed to inuit from my stolen glances, raging erection, and unease with talking girls.
“Coach… I…” The color had drained from me and my heart stopped.
“Sawyer, it’s ok. I’m not going to judge you, it can stay between us.” He said flatly.
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath when I exhaled.
“Thanks, Coach.” I truly was grateful.
He saw through me but accepted me. I thanked my lucky stars, in my head it could have gone much worse.
“Now, get out of here, Sawyer. Get some rest, you’ve been working your ass off and we have games starting soon… and take care of that thing.” He added with a wink.
I grabbed my towel and left the showers. I had a new spring in my step, my poor performance in practice had been totally erased from my mind. I felt lighter, almost like when I came out to Dad. More than that, it felt good to connect with Coach H on a more personal level.
“Hey, Sport! I thought you got lost on the way home.” Dad teased me as I walked in the door later than usual.
“I had a bad practice and stayed after to get more work in.” I explained,
“You can’t beat yourself up over every bad practice, Robby. You need to learn to be able to take it in stride.” Dad shifted over to the side, he had started dinner already and wanted me to help him.
I took my spot next to my old man as we prepared our meal. I was feeling good, I might be sexually frustrated but I was an 18 year-old gay jock in high school, I didn’t have a ton of opportunities to explore things yet. I was starting to feel more confident in myself, my effort on the field had been noticed and another person who I admired and respected seemed, even just tacitly, to be accepting of my sexuality.
After cleaning up dinner, I ran up to my room. As good as I was feeling, I had still seen Coach Hayes completely naked… with a slight chub even! I knew that I wouldn’t need any porn, I had mental images of Coach H burned into my brain. Before I could even get my shorts and briefs down, I was rock hard.
As usual, I let some vaseline melt into the heat of my aching member. My thick 8 inches responded to my strokes, leaking precum. I didn’t have to fantasize too much about anything, just call up my very recent memory of showering next to Coach H. My free hand tweaked a nipple and then massaged my nuts as my right hand stroked the length of my shaft, the hood slowly retracting before engulfing my cockhead with each stroke.
In no time, I was feeling flush with the tell-tale tingling starting at my balls. I let my palm circle my cockhead making myself groan. My hand then kept steadily stroking my shaft, adding a twist to my stroking motion. Seconds later, I gasped as my cock started spurting thick and heavy. Splatter after splatter of cum landed on my chest and abs, pooling between the cut muscles.
“Fuck…” I said to myself, laying there on my bed, cock in hand, catching my breath.
My jock cock didn’t deflate, instead staying rock hard as I kept thinking about Coach Hayes’ body. My mind flashes to Dad and his big chest filling out his work polos, thick legs hugged by his chinos. I started to jerk again, sweat began to bead as I neared a second nut. It didn’t take long before another sizable load joined the first one drying on my bare upper body.
Finally, I felt relieved. I cleaned up and went downstairs to join Dad watching baseball on TV. He looked up at me and smiled from his recliner as I flopped on the couch. Dad was right, I was going to miss times like this next year when I was away at college. Just the two of us hanging out…