Bobby had heard all the stories about Mr. Springer, but still liked being his assistant coach for the college swim team. They traveled all over the state, and Bobby enjoyed the long drives. He didn't have to travel in the loud, hot team bus, either. Mr. Springer always insisted Bobby ride in his car.
As the season wore on, Bobby began to notice Mr. Springer taking every opportunity to touch him. Not inappropriately, at least at first. But he'd pat Bobby on his back and let his hand rest there, or give him a smack on his almost-naked bottom and let his rough palm idle there, too. Lately, he'd grip a buttock for a moment before letting it go. That would bring a flinch from Bobby.
The sudden intimacies and attention were somehow exciting for Bobby. He kept his excitement inside, but this unexpected reaction plagued him. Was he gay? Was Mr. Springer gay?
Rumors among some of the swim squad had the coach just that. Some of the guys said he would watch them shower, or stare at them while they changed in the locker room. Bobby never noticed this, although he did notice Mr. Springer watching him. He also insisted Bobby wear the team suit and a robe when helping at the pool or in coach's office; Bobby could never wear street clothes and certainly no shoes. The swimsuit was tiniest of any team in their conference, and sometimes drew gasps from spectators when the team competed at some of the rural schools.
On one of the last meets of the season, as Bobby and Mr. Spring drove through a very warm spring day, Mr. Springer laughed at something funny and reached over and squeezed Bobby's thigh. The hand stayed there and Bobby froze a moment staring at it. He looked at Mr. Springer, who had his eyes on the road. Then Springer's hand began squeezing Bobby's thigh and moving up and inside. Bobby didn't pull away. He was glad for a moment that he was dressed and not in the tiny swimsuit, then an unexpected feeling of intense pleasure flooded him as Mr. Springer's hand brushed his genitals. Bobby sighed involuntarily and Mr. Springer rubbed his crotch. Bobby whined a little plea, but Mr. Springer kept rubbing up and down.
Bobby gasped when Mr. Springer unzipped his pants and ran his fingers inside, easing out Bobby's dick until if popped from his fly. He ran his fingers down the length of it, then suddenly thumped open the button of Bobby's pants. Bobby moaned again as Mr. Springer deftly began working him off. In just a few tugs down its shaft, Bobby's belly began jerking and his head rolled back and forth on the car headrest. Mr. Springer played with the tender cap of his dick and then squeezed slowly downward, milking the boy.
Finally, Bobby shot a spew of come into the air above his quivering belly and his body arched up as he yelped.
He sat in the seat beside Mr. Springer as the car turned into their motel. Just barely 18, Bobby was unsure what to do. He felt embarrassed and ashamed, and yet excited at the same time. It was as if a pressure had been released from deep in his belly. As he began to give into this feeling, even his remorse at allowing this nasty episode to occur became erotically tantalizing.
As the car stopped, Mr. Springer looked around, the grabbed Bobby's penis again and stroked it back to erection as Bobby moaned helplessly. Then the coach leaned over and began licking the come off Bobby's belly. He nibbled and kissed the boy's tender abdomen. He popped the seat back to reclining position and snapped open the boy's shirt. Bobby was laid out on the front seat, naked and exposed down to the tops of his thighs. Occasionally raising his head to watch Bobby's aroused wiggling, Mr. Springer continued licking and sucking Bobby's belly.
Kissing up the slight mound of the boy's abdomen, he licked the boy's navel, and when Bobby jerked and made a little wail, he knew he had a sensitive spot. He methodically tongued Bobby's navel, working him off the entire time. Bobby gasped and moaned. Mr. Springer spiraled in the tender socket, allowing the wet tongue to plumb it thoroughly, then closed in on the central kernel in Bobby's belly, which he swabbed mercilessly. Bobby made a low moan each time his coach's tongue skewered him.
When the boy was fully hard, Mr. Springer gobbled his dick to the root and stroked it as the boy quivered under him. Bobby looked out the windows occasionally, making sure no one was witnessing this, then Mr. Springer's talented mouth bled all energy out of him and he undulated back into recline.
