Adonis Dreams On

I'd wanted to earn some money to stock up my funds before going to college the following year, so my Mom had asked around the neighborhood if anyone knew of any jobs that were going. I'd been very lucky as I'd landed a weekly slot with the guy who lived four doors down, doing yard work for him every Saturday morning.

Frankly the work was easy, as my years of football training was more than enough preparation for whatever chores Mr. Johnson found for me to do. I'd dug a pond for him the previous Fall as one of my first tasks, made a few raised beds and filled them with dirt, planted a few trees and swept up all the leaves as they'd fallen across his considerable plot later that season. Things had been a bit quiet over the Winter, but I'd gone round occasionally to cler his drive when the snows came, and had been rewarded with a cup of hot chocolate and some muffins. Mr. Johnson was always very welcoming and paid me better than I expected considering the work was merely tiring rather than onerous. As the Spring came around he began to find more work for me again, and I returned to mowing his large lawns, front and back, using the ride-on. He also got me to pick up plants from the nearby nursery and plant them afterwards under his direction.

As the season wore on the temperatures rose and his garden really started to come into its own - and put on really bright display of orgasnised colour. By the time May came around it was so warm that I would work in just my shorts and boots, and Mr. Johnson would wander out with a tray of lemonade when I'd finished for the day. We took to sitting on his patio in the sunshine and surveying what I'd done that day and planning jobs for the next week. I guess I hadn't really noticed before during the winter, but out here in the sunshine in shorts and a polo shirt, Mr. Johnson was actually quite the specimen of manhood. I'd guessed he was about 45 or so, but his still-honed body wore his clothes well, and he reminded me a bit of my favourite uncle: broad-shouldered, bearded and by the looks of it hairy everywhere.

"I think I'll go and see if there are any strawberries ready to pick" he said, and got up from his chair. "I can do that for you if you'd like, Mr. Johnson?". "No, you stay there and relax, you've been working all morning, kid," he replied. Mr. Johnson got up from his chair and for the first time I found myself staring at him as strode off towards the strawberry patch. Those shorts showed his ass off to great effect. How had I not noticed he had such a nice butt before? I sat there grinning to myself, closed my eyes and must have started to drop off, as I was roused by Mr. Johnson shaking me gently on the shoulder. "Hey kid, if you're that tired you should go home." But seeing that Mr. Johnson had picked a bowl full of strawberries I said, "Blimey I must have been more tired that I thought, but perhaps a strawberry or two would do the trick?". Mr. Johnson grinned, "Come inside then and we can wash them, and have a few with ice cream." I followed him into the kitchen and watched him as he washed, hulled and cut the strawberries into two bowls. "The ice cream is in the freezer, kid. Top shelf on the left, if you want to go and get it, please? Oh, and there's some squirty cream in the fridge."

Bringing them both back to Mr. Johnson, he whipped up a strawberry sundae, complete with sprinkles - it made me feel like a little kid again! We sat at the kitchen table and dug into the sundaes. "These are great, Mr. Johnson, thanks" I grinned, "it's been a while since I had sprinkles on anything!" "You've earned it kid, you work hard every Saturday, I like to reward hard work." "Thanks Mr. Johnson, I've always enjoyed working in your garden, I'll miss it next year when I'm away at college." "Well, there's always the vacations if you're not off travelling or something?" he replied. "How's the college fund coming along? Hopefully you've managed to accumulate a decent amount to help you through your studies?" "Yes, I've managed to save quite a bit, so I hope I won't have to find an evening job when I'm studying, fingers crossed." "That's good news, kid, I hope you have a great time, college is a real life experience." "I hope I will, sir, but I can't pretend, it is a bit of a daunting prospect." "I'm sure you'll fit right in, kid" he replied, "want some more cream?" "Oh, yes please, why not, sir?"

Mr. Johnson leant over the table and directed the squirty cream at my bowl, pressed the nozzle and the cream flew out all over my still-bare chest. Whether he'd just mis-directed the nozzle or had done it one purpose I don't know, but I yelped slightly and then we both fell about laughing. "Sorry kid, finger must've slipped. I'll get a cloth." "Don't worry Mr. Johnson, I can wipe it off, it's a shame to waste it." I started scooping the cream off my chest with my fingers and putting it into my mouth. "Mmm, can I try some of that too, please, kid?" he said, voice slightly cracked. "Er... well, sure, I guess, Mr. Johnson, it's your cream after all..." He got up from his chair, walked round to my side of the table, grabbed my hand and began licking the cream off my fingers, plunging them deep into his mouth. This, I had not expected. "Er, Mr. Johnson?" was all I managed. He then started to wipe more of the cream off my chest with his own fingers, and offered it to me - I opened my mouth wide and he gently wiped the cream onto my tongue, then circled my lips. Another lame "Er, Mr. Johnson?" was again all I could offer... "Well kid, about that college fund... If you want to top it up so you can focus on your studies and not have to get a paid job at the same time, there is a way you could earn a lot more money, you know?"

Hardly daring to think what he might mean, I watched as Mr. Johnson dropped his shorts, revealing that he was going commando and also sporting a raging hard-on. He then wiped his fingers across my chest again, smeared the remaining cream on his swollen glans and said "Want to eat this, kid?" I was out of my shorts as fast as I could undo them, and began caressing Mr. Johnson's magnificent dick gently with my tongue. "If you want to earn more, how far down can you go, kid?" he grunted. Needing no more encouragment, I swallowed his whole length down in one, feeling his girth expand my throat as it stabbed downwards, being slathered on its way by spit, strawberry juice and cream.

I'd seen him at the park several times before, sitting on the same bench, watching people as they walked by, and noticed how his gaze followed all the fit guys as they wandered by. I wasn't quite sure why I found him so interesting to look at, he wasn't traditionally "attractive", and I'd no real experience at all with guys. He certainly wasn't the usual type that got my dick throbbing, but something drew me to him.

So when I got up that morning I'd decided to head over to the park and that if he was there again, I'd pluck up enough courage to go and sit next to him. It was only when I was approaching the bench that I saw he'd had had a buzz-cut since I last saw him, which made me even more attracted to him that I'd been before.

I gave him a shy smile as I sat down on the end of the bench and tried to relax. "Hi", he grinned back, "haven't I seen you here before?" I laughed nervously and said "Well, that's one of the corniest lines I've heard in a long time!" "Hey, I was only trying to make conversation" he said, looking a bit hurt. "Sorry, I-I-I wasn't meaning to be rude" I stuttered back, a bit embarassed and thinking I was already blowing my chances. "No offence taken," he laughed, "and anyway, it was supposed to be a come-on line!" I could feel my cheeks colouring up, and my dick starting to twitch. Fortunately there was enough room in my jeans for it not to show, but then he reached over and put his hand on my thigh, and almost immediately my jeans tented as my dick sprung up rock hard. I'd always been sensitive to the slightest touch, and being out here in broad daylight in the middle of a public park felt intensely exciting. "Oh, er..." I blithered. "Well, looks like something's stirring down there" he said as he looked straight into my eyes, "want me to do somethign about that?" "Er, yes please, if you'd like to," was the only inane response I could think of at the time, as I was getting a bit light-headed all of a sudden.

He swiftly moved to pull down my zipper and thrust his hand inside my Calvins and pulled out my now thick and already leaking cock. "Looks like someone is a little excited!" "I guess I am, it's my first time doing this sort of thing" I said, and immediately regretted it. What a stupid thing to say! But it turned out that was just what he wanted to hear "In that case I'd better make this memorable for you, hadn't I?" he siad as he bent down and swallowed the whole of my thick nine inches like an absolutely pro. I gasped loudly as he gobbled down the whole of my shaft and then his head proceeded to bob up and down on it making sllghtly strangled gasping noises. His throat felt like nothing else I'd ever experienced as he worked my length expertly, tonguing around my swollen glans and then plunging down to take my whole slicked length again - nor did my considerable girth seem to present any challenge to him either. This guy was a pro! However, as his lips came down to my pubic thatch yet again, I could see that his eyes had begun to water a bit! I grabbed his head firmly in both hands and clamped him onto the base of my dick, wondering how long he could stay there with all nine inches down his gullet. His breathing was coming noisly through his nose, but he stayed put for a good thirty seconds. I pulled his head up and he moved to kiss me - now I'd never really thought that I'd like that sissy sort of stuff, but given that I like the taste of my own precum, I let him so that I could thrust my tongue inside his mouth to explore it for the residue of my own juice. I wasn't disppointed as I knew I'd already leaked a considerable amount during his servicing of my dick - delicious.

But he clearly wanted to be back down on my dick, so I again thrust his head back down, so the whole length of my dick filled his oesophagus. He did splutter and gag a bit this time, which turned me on even more, and I felt my dick swelling as I got closer and closer to release. Then the world seemed to become very still, I guess I went into some sort of trance, and all I could hear was birdsong and muffled gagging noises as a rainbow of colours seemed to explode in front of me. I began to shoot great strings of cum deep down his throat, keeping his head firmly jammed down to the base of my dick - he had no choice but to consume my cum, given it was being injected directly into his gullet. "Eat it up, eat it, eat it!" I moaned.

All the way home I'd been hinking about the field session earlier this afternoon and how Coach had singled me out for praise during practise. My juices were already flowing, and I knew I'd need to clean up again and would have to pull out another clean pair of Calvin's. Up in my bedroom I peeled the cum-soaked pair off, sniffed and sucked the precum out of them. The heady smell really got me going, and I began to caress myself slowly and gently at first, stroking my nipples until they began to rise with excitement, tracing the outline of my now rapidly developing pectorals, my fingers drifting down my torso and playing with the hair along the treasure trail leading to my throbbing erection. I moaned quietly to myself as my fingers ran around my swollen glans, moistened by yet more precum that was now leaking copiously.

I pictured Coach in my mind, stood there in his polo short that was stretched taut over his chest, a stand of hair peeking out from the neck. He always seemed to wear polos a size too small, no doubt intentionally showing off his exceptional chest and lats, and as he demonstrated some of the finer points of throwing the javelin I couldn't help but notice when his polo rode up high enough above his shorts to reveal a set of still-firm abs, similarly embellished with a thatch of dark hair. He'd held my arms and guided me through the motion of getting the maximum thrust in my throw, gripping me very firmly in his huge hands. It was all I'd been able to do to stop myself getting a massive erection whilst he did this, especially as he was close enough to me for me to smell his sweaty aroma.

I'd only just switched the light off when another message pinged into my WhatsApp account - but it was worth putting the light back on to see! Another photo of a gorgeous muscular, hairy dad-bod greeted me: and just look at those pits - couldn't you just nuzzle happily into them and smell the man-musk? I became more and more convinced it was Coach sending me these photos, and this time the tiles in the background looked exactly like the ones in the team's locker room shower. The message read "I like to stay after you've all showered and gone home. When I have the place to myself. I can lather myself all over, very slowly, and remember what you looked like when you were showering - I just wish you were here with me..."

Back in the locker room after each gym session I always purposely stripped my kit off slowly, and always used one of the baths rather than the communal shower. Reason being that I could just lounge in the bath and casually show off my junk to anyone who wanted to give me the eye.

I was now just of legal age, and there were plenty of hairy daddies who frequently used the gym and who came on to me. Most of them were more than happy to drop to their knees and suck me off, even when there were other guys still in the locker room - I often gathered an audience. I'd happily grunt as I shoved my 9 inch dick deep down their throats, delighting in making them gag, holding their heads firmly in my hands as they began to splutter as they ran out of air. My spit-slicked cock felt so good reaming their gullets. and it was never very long before I was shooting gobs of creamy cum deep down their throats.

I'd barely sent the photo off to my WhatsApp mystery man than he pinged another one my way. Wowzers, that was a sight to behold, just the sort of tight, hairy rippling dad-bod that got my jock dick twitching immediately. I found myself fantasising about licking every inch of that fabulous torso, slowly with short, tantalising flicks of my wet tongue. Following the treasure trail up from his briefs and then plunging the tip of my tongue deep into his belly button. Then I'd begin slowly tracing the outlines of his abs before reaching the fullness of his pecs - and there I'd linger, lapping at his nipples, making them stand proud and erect after all the attention I was giving them. Coach would moan softly and hold my head in his strong hands so that I had to stay put serving his nipples until he released me and shoved my head towards his musky armpits. Licking the sweaty perspiration from his pits, I'd then begin to kiss his biceps as he flexed them proudly for me... and then he'd pull me close and stick his own tongue in my mouth, as we mingled our spit and tongue-wrestled.

That last photo from my anonymous admirer had really got me going. Hairy ass in a tight jock, what was not to love? I decided to sieze the moment and send another photo back immediately. Fortunately I'd got exactly the one to respond with!

My mate Karl had taken this cheeky one of me without me knowing when we were doing a bit of light weights practise in my garden. He'd sent it to me later that day and said how much he'd enjoyed the view. We'd been fucking on and off for a year or more now, since meeting on the team, so I knew he'd really appreciated the view of my tight butt and shorts stretched over my ball sack. I hoped that my hairy daddy admirer would like the photo just as much. I don't know why I felt the need to send a photo that didn't really identify me, given that whoever my admirer was, he'd got my cell number from somewhere and clearly knew my identity. If only I knew his!

I'd been brave enough to send a photo back to my anonymous WhatsApp messager - a carefully chosen one of my torso, modelling strategically lowered Calvin's, and had wondered how long I'd need to wait for a response... In the meantime, I'd been so turned on by just sending the photo that I'd been lying on my bed and gently rubbing up and down my stiff shaft.

My mind had wandered back to the last practise session we had had, when the temperatures in the stadium had soared, and the sweat stains on Coach's T-shirt by the we ended the session. I remembered the musky scent he gave off as I purposely walked close past him on my way to the locker room, and the way his ample ass filled out his tight trackies.... and then 'ping!' - a reply popped into my WhatsApp.

"Well, whoever you are, you are certainly succeeding in getting me all steamed up over the photos you are sending me via WhatsApp, so I thought I'd enter into the spirit of things too, and send you this..."

Dan had learnt fast, he'd picked up all the techniques faster than any other climber I'd taught in the past twenty years. It was clear that he could go on to great things in the sport, but he just seemed quite content to hang around with the recreational climbing team at the university rather than go into competition, despite my repeated attempts to convince him to do so.

I must confess that I had been quite happy to see him every weekend in term as I drove the club around the state to different locations. For some reason I just couldn't take my eyes off him when he climbed - and frankly when he wasn't climbing either! His taught, lean frame made light work of most of the ascents, and in the humid afternoons of early summer, his skin shone with perspiration as he scaled the face.

I always made sure that I was up at the top of the climbs to offer encouragement and spur all the climbers on, and indeed had usually hauled all of the rest of the team over the top before Dan even started his climb, as he usually wanted to be timed to see if he could beat his previous best on each route.

It had been forecast to be an exceptionally warm day, and the forecast had been proven right, so most of the team were stripped down to shorts, and even I was in shorts today, but felt I ought to retain some distance and had kept my climbing vest on. The rest of the climbers had seen Dan do many timed ascnets and most had kind of lost interest, feeling he was showing off a bit. But I knew that wasn't his intent, he was more interested in pitting himself against the clock, with a drive to beat his previous time on each climb. The rest of the team had thus dispersed along the ridge with drinks and energy snacks after their ascents, so it fell to me to monitor Dan's ropes as he climbed.

He began very fast indeed and had scrambled up half the climb in a very quick time, but then inexplicably lost his footing and slipped, dangling on the ropes and cussing under his breath. The ropes securely in my hands, he wasn't going to drop. "Want to start again, Dan?" I yelled down. He looked up at me, gave that wide grin of his, all charm, and locked eyes with me. "Sure thing Coach, if it's not going to hold us all up too long?" "No worries," I replied "we have plenty of time yet."

"Well, if you're sure?" He descended to the base of the cliff, I reset the timer and yelled "Go!". Again the first part of his climb was accomplished with ease, but I noticed he slowed a little at the place where he'd come unstuck the first time. In fact he paused to look up at me, locking eyes with me for a fraction longer than I'd have excepted, his whole face lighting up with another cheeky grin that made the blood rush to my groin.

Unable to control myself, I could feel my dick swelling in my all-too-loose shorts and starting to tent them out. Dan grinned even more broadly and between adjusting his handholds kept staring back at me. Jeez, from below he would be able to see right up the legs of my shorts and see exactly what was going on...

However, from below came "I'm really enjoying it much more this time, Coach, you know I might even just admire the view a bit more rather than trying to better my time, this time."

I must have blushed, as he gave me another one of those leg-melting grins, and drew his tongue very slowly over his lips, saliva making them glisten in the sun.

Well, that was it, I could feel the precum starting to leak from my swollen knob. Given Dan's response, I shuffled slightly closer to the edge, so that he had an even better view of what was happening inside my shorts. As I did so, I felt a string of precum drip from my dick and could see it fall, glinting in the sun, down the cliff face. Dan had clearly seen it too, as he made a lightning quick change of position, stuck his head out and let my precum splash onto his face! Fuck, thank goodness all the rest of the team were out of sight... Dan stuck his tongue out and licked what precum it could reach off his face, looked back up and me and said "This is why I prefer to stick with the recreational climbing team rather than climb competitively, Coach."

Another photo popped into my WhatsApp feed from the same anonymous account, with the caption "From an admirer". I have to admit that whoever the fit Dad bod belonged to got my dick hard a a rock straight away, and I found my hands slowly stroking the front of my jeans as I mused over who could be sending me these photos. Was it really Coach? He was certainly trim and from the hair that you could see in the V of the necks of his polo shirts, he ticked that box too. He also had my cell phone number as we'd had to provide them for the upcoming team tour too, but would he be so rash? I mean, he could lose his job over something like this... Perhaps it was someone else, but who?

Having made the error which gifted the opposition their winning score, I'd been so downcast after the game, my team-mates glaring at me from around the locker room. Coach had said that everyone makes mistakes, but I knew that my place on the team was now in question. I was just sat disconsolate on a bench feeling sorry for myself, watching as all the other guys showered, dressed and left. So I almost jumped out of my skin when when Guy, the team captain, appeared from the showers and said, "Cheer up kid, we DO all make mistakes, like Coach said."

"Thanks, Guy, that's kind of you to say so, but it doesn't make me feel much better at letting down the team, and knowing I might not even get on the bench next match."

"It probably won't be that bad, kid, if you show Coach and the team that you're determined to make amends at the next practise, and you never know..."

"Well, if you think that there's still a chance I could keep my place?"

Guy stood there, flexing his biceps and posing in front of the steamed up mirror on the locker room wall, "There's always a chance, kid, always a chance. And you can improve your odds of being selected for the team's next match, of course."

"Really, how, Guy?"

"Have you forgotten that, as Captain, I also have a say in who gets picked for the team?"

"No, but you saw how bad I was out there today, you can't possibly say that you'd recommend me keeping my place after that performance!"

"No, maybe not after today's performance on the pitch, but if you're willing to perform in, shall we say, "other ways", then I might just put in a good word..." he grinned.

"Errrr, I'm not sure quite what you mean?" I stuttered, naively.

"Well, you could come and show me what you think of my flexes, kid - I've seen your eyes wandering in my direction when I'm changing and when we're in the showers!"

I went bright red in an instant. "Sorry Guy, I'm so sorry, it's just that I'd love to have a body like yours, and I know that I need to put in alot of work in the gym."

"Yeah right, I'm sure that's the erason you stare at me all the time, kid. You know I don't mind if there's another reason..."

If it was possible to go even more red, then I must have looked like I was going to self-combust at that point. But I just looked to the floor and shuffled uneasily on the bench.

"If there is another reason, you can show me what it is, kid. Come here and kiss my biceps, we'll start there and then see whether or not I feel that I can put a good word in for you with Coach later on..."

Fresh out of the shower, I could hear muffled noises coming from the steam room. I wandered over and, both not wanting to disturb whoever was in there, and wanting to sneak a peak at what they were doing to make the strange sounds, I cracked the door open just a fraction, just enough to be able to see inside. Jeez, it was Coach and the quarterback, and they were not talking tactics! In fact, the quarterback, Tom, was stood on the bench inside the steam room with Coach kneeling in front of him. "Suck this, bitch" growled Tom. Coach didn't need telling twice, his mouth consumed Tom's proud stiffness in one go. Tom's dick was clearly every bit as impressive as his performance on the field, and he was about to perform in front of me! Coach made strangled gagging noises as Tom began pumping his dick in and out of Coach's throat, and I could even see the slobber glistening on Tom's cock as he withdraw from each thrust.

I'd often fantasised about being blown off by Coach, wondered what his handsomely bearded face and strong hands would feel like brushing up against my groin and devouring my own fairly impressive dick. Now I had a ring-side seat, and felt my hands going down to caress myself whilst rapt on the scene in front of me. Rather excited and distracted, I must have leant slightly too hard on the door, which creaked under the pressure. Tom yelled "Who's out there? Show yourself!"

I pushed the door open to reveal my own state of readiness for Coach's mouth, and grinned "Sorry Tom, I wondered what the noise was...."

That was another good wrestling practise, and despite only having started the sport a few short months ago, I felt that I was strating to get to grips with the holds better now. Coach had been very positive, and was very helpful in showing me the proper techniques of various holds. And if I'm being brutally honest with myself for once, for a shy guy like me, it was just as much for the feel of Coach's firm strong grip on me that I'd kept coming to the sessions at first. Well, that and his musky smell and lean hairy daddy body. So, whilst I fully enjoyed the same musky smell of the opponents when you were on the mat grappling with them, and the fact that you had license to feel the taught muscular contortions of other guys, and partlcularly when I let my opponent dominate me early in the bouts before I took control, it was really to work with Coach that kept me coming back to the locker room.

I could see Coach over the other side of the locker room chatting technique with some of the other guys on the team, so I thought I'd put on a bit of a show, and stood in front of the mirror as I slowly started to peel off my sticky, stinky singlet, feeling the lycra stretch pleasingly across my tired muscles. As I got down to my butt I turned and looked at myself in the mirror, gratified that the grappling was making a distinct difference to my physique. The scrawny pup was long gone, and now I was beginnging to build some muscle onto my lean frame. I must have got lost in the moment, when Coach yelled across "OK kid, you can put it way now, go have a shower, I think we've seen enough of that butt".