As an up-and-coming star in the world of swimming, Olympic hopeful Logan Cross was as dedicated an athlete as you could hope to find. Oftentimes, the aspiring lad would seek the advice and counsel of some of the wisest and most experienced swim coaches. It was this hunger that led him to Coach Dillon Stone. Coach Stone was well-known to other twink athletes all over the country for his mastery and skill in the world of sports. His methods, though, were a bit unorthodox. Logan knew of Coach Stone’s reputation full-well. He was eager for the legendary DILF coach’s advice. As an Olympic hopeful, Logan was curious about how to refine some of his swimming techniques—and he was sure there was no lesson Coach Stone could give him that he’d find too big of a challenge to overcome. As the two conversed in their first meetup, Logan came to realize that Coach Stone was decked out in nothing more than a tight tank top and itty-bitty athletic shorts. And clearly no underwear. It was soon obvious to Logan that refining his freestyle technique in the pool could wait. A new opportunity had presented itself. It didn’t escape Coach Stone’s observation, either, that his super-cute twink understudy was staring at his crotch. Coach Stone had a sneaking suspicion that young Logan wanted a lesson, and it wasn’t the one they initially scheduled. Based on the way Logan kept licking his lips and readjusting his jocks, Coach Stone thought for a moment, then formulated a much more hands-on type of training they could do together. But before the elder coach could say a word, Logan went in for a kiss. Coach Stone was only mildly surprised by the young jock’s compulsion. Athletes get horned-up, it happens, you know? And Coach Stone could work with this. The real tutorial was about to begin. The truth is, in the past, Coach Stone and Logan had had brief run-ins from time to time, as they both ran in similar athletic circles. Soon after these casual run-ins with the DILF coach, Logan would race home and furiously jack himself off to a mind-blowing orgasm. His throbbing boy cock would gush massive amounts of semen fantasizing about Coach Stone’s thick body, and what an awesome erotic sensation it must be to run his fingers through the older man’s soft, silver, furry chest hair. So, now that Coach Stone and Logan were finally alone together, it came as no surprise to either of them that the mood and topic of conversation turned sexual. If Logan thought his aching erection couldn’t possibly get any harder, when he asked Coach Stone how he liked to be fucked—the elder’s answer made the impossible possible. “Son, you can fuck me any way you like,” Coach Stone softy crooned. Logan, a freestyle swimmer, instead put his improvisational talents to use topping the perfectly tight muscular ass of the venerated coach. Their disparate bodies twisted in a wild combination that any panel of judges would mark favorably. Logan had reached the threshold of how much he could sex-up and pound away on Coach Stone’s amazingly fit ass, his thrusts began to increase in sheer earnest. Meanwhile, Coach Stone was in pure heaven. His hole had never been fucked quite like this before, he reckoned. When Logan’s mouth opened in a beautiful, gasping orgasm, it sent rope upon rope of thick semen bursting out of Coach Stone’s cock and all over his heaving, furry chest. As the delightfully exhausted jocks locked lips and savored their carnally satisfied bliss, young Logan relished in what he’d accomplished through Coach Stone’s amazing lesson. But you know how the old saying goes: Practice makes perfect!
