Tuesday Tales Takin' a Ride....Or Tea-Bagging?

Happy Hot Tuesday and another edition of Tuesday Tales. Today, I return to my current WIP, Multiple Scorgasms for my Fantasy Leagues series. Our saucy Coach Lola shows this big brute who's boss...

I watched athletes for years. Back in high school I would stay after school and just sit while those boys went through all the various drills and conditioning activities. I loved those tight pants and muscles that stretched the tight shirts and pads. What if I was the coach? I bet I would have been better motivation than the overweight guard dogs reliving high school memories through their team.

But, right now, I was topping an NFL great. His impeccable record made him the envy of every organization. Scouts bent over for him and even supplied the lube. Metaphorically, of course, but, then, again who knows? Rudy’s dominance on the field gave him every reason for his arrogance. It was my job to put him back in his place.

He visited me a couple of times a year. Along with various friends of his, and I gained new ones when I needed them. I have quite the reputation for my special way to stimulate, and put some humble back in their overinflated egos.  “Who’s in charge?”

Rudy growled. “You are Coach Dom Lola.”

Coach Dom Lola might be a mouthful, but, I liked it.

I picked up a large wooden paddle. It had numerous holes drilled through the shellacked finish. The oak gave a solid pop when it connected with bare flesh. I drew back and gave it a good effort, but, not my best at first. Pink immediately blushed across his ass. I smiled. “Very nice, Rudy.” He knew better than to answer yet.

Smack, I let it fly once more. Pink turning into an angry shade of red. Smack, again, and yes, yes, there it was. The response more powerful than words. Little Rudy decided to awaken and join the fun. I put the paddle down and kneeled behind him. I caressed my punishment and kissed it softly. His ass was baby soft with nary a hair. I kissed across and ran my tongue just along the outside of his ass crack. Little Rudy stood to full attention and shuddered, giving a horizontal springboard to his erection.

I reached around and grazed him with my fingernail, further drawing out his desire. Moments like this shoved every pesky personal dilemma from my mind. I created a perfectly orchestrated scene and could predict the outcome, almost every single time, to the last detail. I enjoyed keeping brutes like Rudy on their knees, it made me feel powerful and one hundred percent in control. I might not control outside much beyond those doors, but, inside the Lock-Him Room, it was all me, baby.

Rudy shivered again when I traced a particularly large protruding vein with my finger. The tip of his cock slickened and I felt smug. Power was my favorite emotion, but, then again I think like a guy. I would have made a perfect football coach. I could have gotten so much more out of players with my special brand of motivation.

I tea-bagged myself between his massive, rock hard thighs, no sense in making him wait forever. I drew in a long scent of musky manhood and hotel room soap. I love it when they follow my orders to the “T”. After a plane ride, I’m fairly certain he needed to freshen up, I’m not about a mouthful of sweaty balls.  I tickled him with my nose and jacked him slowly. I sucked the smooth skin of his testicles before I switched positions to take his erection down my throat.

I don’t believe our Mr. Rudy lasted more than a few minutes. He came with impressive force and a low octave rumble.

I patted his ass and whispered in his ear. “Good job, now let’s get ‘em this season, my money’s on you, son.”

But, that’s just what I tell all of my boys.

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