**The Locker Room**

It was late after practice, the rest of the team already gone, just me and Coach Jim left in the locker room. He was a mountain of a man, ex-D1 wrestler, thick muscles coiled under his tight coaching polo, his dark skin glistening with sweat. I was just a skinny white kid, freshman backup, no real hope of starting—yet here I was, alone with him.

I could feel his eyes on me as I stripped down, his heavy gaze tracing over my pale, wiry frame. His voice was deep, rough, when he finally spoke. “You keep strugglin’ on those takedowns, boy. Weak form. You need someone to really show you how it’s done.”

I swallowed hard. “Y-yeah, Coach. I’ll work on it.”

He smirked, stepping closer. The scent of him—sweat, cologne, something raw and male—flooded my nose. “Oh, you’re gonna work on it,” he growled, his big hand suddenly gripping my shoulder. “Right here. Right now.”

Before I could react, he slammed me face-first against the lockers. His body pressed into me from behind, his thick bulge grinding against my ass through his shorts. “Coach—” I gasped, but he cut me off with a rough slap to my bare ass, the sharp crack echoing in the empty room.

“You don’t talk unless I say so,” he growled, yanking my shorts and underwear down to my knees. His fingers dug into my hips, forcing them back into him. I could feel his cock now, hard even through his clothes, pressing insistently against my bare skin. “Fuck, you’re scrawny,” he muttered, one hand sliding around to grip my half-hard dick. “But I bet your little white ass is tight as hell.”

I whimpered as he gave my cock a rough stroke, his other hand spreading my cheeks. His spit-lubed thumb rubbed over my hole, making me shudder. “N-no, Coach, I—”

Another slap, harder this time, making my thighs shake. “Told you to shut up,” he snarled. And then his thumb was pushing inside me, no real prep, just the brutal stretch of his thick digit working me open. I gasped, my fingers scrambling against the locker as he fucked me with his thumb, adding a second finger way too fast, the burn making my legs tremble.

“Christ, you’re clenching like a virgin,” he chuckled, leaning down to bite my ear. “Guess that makes sense. Bet none of the other boys wanted your scrawny ass.”

I whined, my own cock twitching pathetically between my legs. God, why was I like this? Why was my body reacting, even as my hole ached?

Coach pulled his fingers out, and I heard the sound of his zipper. My stomach flipped. “Now you’re gonna learn how a real man fucks,” he muttered.

I barely had time to brace before his cock was pressing against my hole—no lube, just his spit and the slick from my own tightness. Big. Too big. I groaned as he forced the head in, the stretch white-hot, my nails scraping metal as he shoved deeper.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Coach snarled, his grip bruising on my hips. “Take it, boy. Take all this black cock.”

The words sent a sick thrill through me. I was split open, aching, but my dick was leaking now, dripping onto the floor as he bottomed out inside me. His balls slapped against my ass as he started to move, slow at first, then brutal, each thrust slamming me into the lockers.

“You like that?” he growled, one hand fisting in my hair, yanking my head back. “Like gettin’ fucked by a real man? Huh?”

I couldn’t answer—could barely think. Every slam of his hips sent sparks up my spine, my hole clenching around him as he stretched me wider.

“Answer me!” Another yank on my hair.

“Y-yes, Coach,” I choked out. “Feels… fuck, feels so big—”

He laughed, low and dark. “Damn right it is.” He sped up, his cock pistoning into me, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the locker room. “Gonna breed this tight white ass,” he grunted, his breath hot on my neck. “Make you remember who owns you.”

I came then, untouched, my cock spurting onto the floor as he fucked me through it, his thrusts turning erratic. With a final snarl, he buried himself deep, his cum flooding me, so hot I could feel it.

He held me there, impaled on him, his breath ragged in my ear. “That’s your lesson for today, boy,” he finally said, pulling out with a wet pop. “And we’ll be having a lot more of ‘em.”

I slumped against the locker, my legs weak, my hole still throbbing. Coach smacked my ass once more, hard. “Clean yourself up. And be here tomorrow—same time.”

I knew I would be.