Mind Fuc

Austin was walking past the gap between two buildings at the back of the sports field complex at Sheridan College in northwest Wyoming, the sports complex at this community college dominated by training for rodeo competitions, the building to the right being an indoor gym and the one to the left the locker room facilities, when he was pulled into the alley space by a strong hand gripping his wrist.

"Coach Haines," he exclaimed. It was the hunky assistant sports coach.

"You've been avoiding me, Austin," Haines hissed, pushing the lanky nineteen-year-old student up against the brick wall of the side of the gym.

"I haven't. I swear I haven't," Austin said, beginning to pant, remembering the last time the two of them had been alone, when Coach Haines had kissed Austin on the mouth and slid a hand down the front of Austin's jeans and the young man had just stood close to the coach, moaning, and letting the man fondle him. Austin was embarrassed he'd engorged at the man's touch and stroking, and had quickly come for him inside his jeans, but he'd long been mentally struggling with his sexual identity. Being queer didn't go well with the macho image of a rodeo rider, though.

Austin didn't know what more he'd have let the coach do—to take from him—if someone whistling nearby hadn't called Haines off.

"I'm sorry. I told you I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself," Haines whispered, bringing his face in close to Austin's. "You were practice riding out in the ring shirtless and looking just too good not to try. And you acted like you wanted it. Please don't tell—"

"I'm not sorry," the young man answered, only now aware that that was true—that he'd been thinking about it ever since, and that, on the whole, he was glad that it had happened, that he'd fallen off the fence at last. "And I'm not avoiding you. If you want to do feel me up or stroke me off again, you can. Even if you want to do me."

Austin had already made up his mind what he'd do if the coach approached him again—and it want to go further than they had already if that's what the coach wanted.

"Of course I want to do you," the coach said, "What we did wasn't really 'doing it.' There's much more involved in doing it."

"Yeah, I know it wasn't," Austin said. "I'm saying that if you want . . . well, you can."

"You been covered by a man before?"

"Uh, no, but . . ."

"But you've thought about it?"

"Yes."

"With me?"

"Yes."

"I'd be willing to pay you do be able to do it all," Haines said, his voice low, husky.

"You are one sexy little piece. You drive me crazy." He came in for a kiss. Austin closed his eyes and opened his mouth to receive the kiss. Haines pressed his chest in on Austin's shoulders. The man was a head taller than Austin and twice as heavy, all muscle.

"Yes, yes," Austin whined when they came out of the kiss. He'd reached down and traced the coach's hard cock through the material of his athletic shorts and jock strap. The coach had slid his hands down Austin's belly and under the young man's waistline, popping buttons of Austin's worn jeans, touching and then gripping the young man's engorging cock. Austin wasn't wearing a belt and the jeans hung low on his hips.

"I can feel you . . . hard," Austin whispered.

"Hard for you, yes." The coach took his hand off Austin's cock long enough to flare the young man's jeans open at the fly and push them and Austin's briefs down to his calves. Austin stepped out of them. Breathing hard, the coach buried his face in the hollow of Austin's throat. I was as if he didn't want to watch what they were going to do—go over edge—what he proceeded to do after Austin, mimicking what the coach had done, closed his hand over the man's hardening cock inside his athletic shorts and stroking the man's hardened cock. Austin pushed the man's shorts and jock to below his balls with the other hand.

Austin had no idea or experience in what he was doing. He was channeling the coach in his thoughts. Through some form of mental telepathy, the coach was giving him directions on what to do and then what to do next. He was being told to submit, and he did.

"I'm going to fuck you," Haines growled, deep in his throat. "I'm going to own your ass. Your ass is mine."

"Yes," Austin answered in a small voice.

Haines grabbed the underside of Austin's leg on the side of the narrow opening out onto a parking lot with one hand and hooked the young man's leg on his hip with it. The other hand put his cock head into position.

"Hold steady. Here it comes."

Austin gasped and jerked as the cock head entered him, slowly, opening up virgin territory, but ringing in Austin's brain was coach's cajoling voice, whispering, "It's OK, take it, take it. It's what you want. It will become what you want—pleasure overtaking any pain. Open to me. Take it, take it, take it." Austin didn't know if Coach was whispering that in his ear or conveying it directly into his brain by telepathy. All he knew was that it hurt like hell now, but he wanted it. He wanted Coach Haines inside him.

The young man took it, following the coach's directions to relax, to let his channel loosen and expand, as the man's shaft filled it and he began to slow pump.

Austin's hands went to the back of the coach's head, his fingers running into the man's hair and holding Haines's head close to this throat. The coach gave him three more inches and rocked back and forth against the slight body he'd pinned against the wall, had penetrated, and had now made into one fused, rocking machine of consuming passion.

He was opening up. The pain wasn't too bad now, the exhilaration of doing it, giving himself to the coach, after all the fantasizing about it, was flooding in to cover the pain. Haines grasped the young man's butt cheeks in his hands, kneading and squeezing them, pulling the apart to give his shaft deeper access. Moaning, Austin rocked on the cock, fucking himself on the shaft. Giving a low, guttural laugh of the victor, Haines held himself steady, letting Austin fuck himself on the cock. It was done—what Austin had been thinking of for so long. He was fucked.

Austin's eyes narrowed. He moaned softly and turned his face to the gap in the wall, toward the parking lot. A Jeep Wrangler was parked there, in the only space with a line of sight on the gap in the wall. A bearded man was sitting in the jeep, watching the coach fuck Austin against the gym building wall.

Austin's eyes slitted and his tongue darted out of his mouth, licking his lips as he held the gaze of the man sitting in the Jeep. A new voice, in a deeper register, was resonating in Austin's mind—phrases rather than full sentences. "Fuck him hard. He's a sexy thing. Take it hard and deep. Want some. Get my dick inside that too."

The coach took over again, giving Austin two more inches and moving into a rhythmic stroke he controlled. Primordial instinct set in for both men. Austin's pelvis started to rock in fully coordinated motion with the thrusts. The inevitable had been put into motion. They were a fucking machine now, moving toward the inevitable release.

Still, Rob's gaze remained locked with the eyes of the man in the Jeep. The deeper voice resonated in Austin's brain. "In, out. Fuck you good. Give it to you real good. Rip it out of you. You like his cock, you'll love mine."

It was coach Austin should be concentrating on, he realized. "Fuck me," Austin broadcast out from the depths of his brain, trying to slice through the deeper voice, reaching for the man holding him close, eight inches of hard cock inside him, stretching and pumping, filtering in more pleasure than pain now as Austin felt his channel loosening, stretching, caressing the filling, moving shaft.

Coming back from the Jeep, fighting for control over the brain waves, was the message, "I will. I will fuck you. I will stretch and fill and complete you. Take a run in Colt Park out on the Laramie road tomorrow after school."

The coach was thrusting deep. Austin arched his head back and gave the man urgent encouragement.

"Yes, yes, like that. Deeper. Give it to me. Shit, you're big." Of course, this was Austin's first man. He had nothing to compare this to, but he sensed this was the encouragement and validation the man wanted. Austin was submitting, but this was what he'd wanted. Coach was giving him what he wanted—release from all of the indecision and frustration.

Austin's eyes fixed on the sliver of sky at the top of the buildings, all of his sensations locked on the cock stroking him deep. He let loose of the coach's head, and Haines turned his face up to Austin's, taking him in a kiss. He was stroking Austin's cock with one hand and still holding the young man's left leg raised and hooked on his hip.

They both tensed, Austin jerked, bit the coach's lip involuntarily, and came in the coach's hand. The coach jerked, pulled his dick out of Austin's passage quickly and shot off in the young man's pubes.

Haines moved his face back from Austin's, licking his cut lip, and giving the young man a look that broadcast, "Oh, shit, I lost control again. I did it again. I can't resist him. I fuckin' did it again."

The mental vibes Austin was getting from the man were even deeper, darker than this. The coach was thinking of his job and of his wife and children. The mix of the pleasure, release, and fear in the man was almost palpable, coming across in telepathy.

Austin's thoughts were simpler. He reached down for the man's cock, still hard, guided it inside him again, and whispered, "Do it again. Come inside me this time."

Afterward, looking sheepish, the coach pulled his wallet out and gave Austin the bills he had in it—fifty dollars—as if this might make his inability to control his need and actions less damning for him. Austin, not knowing what else to do, took the money.

He turned his head toward the parking lot. The Jeep was pulling out of the lot, moving away from the entertainment that had been provided for free.

Conveyed to the young man's brain was the message, "Tomorrow. Fuck you good. Fuck you so you never forget. I'll put you down on the ground, splayed, gaping open and sobbing."

* * * *

Austin, in athletic shorts, a jock, and running shoes, was loping along on the path running beside Jones Creek Road on the back quarter of Colt Park off the Laramie Road when he saw the Jeep coming at him, slowly, from the other direction. The Jeep slowed down more as it came beside him, and Austin's eyes locked on to those of the man in the Jeep Wrangler from the day before. The jeep kept on going. It stopped a bit down the road, though, did a U-turn, and came back to beside where Austin had stopped his run and turned frontal to the road. The passenger door of the Jeep popped open.

The thought of "Get in" ran through Austin's mind. He didn't know if the thought was original with him or had been conveyed by some form of telepathy. Until now he hadn't believed in telepathy or the supernatural or anything like that. Now he wasn't so sure.

"Well?" Austin thought after a few seconds of standing there. The man was good looking. Sexy. He had to be in his late twenties or early thirties. Wearing just shorts and sneakers. He was hirsute, the hair dark and swirling in seemingly uncontrollable curls. He was olive skinned. Italian? Greek maybe?

"Get in" was conveyed to Austin again without the man doing more than staring at him expectantly. "Get in or walk away. Come to me if you want it. I won't come after you. It's your choice, your responsibility." Nothing was verbalized. All clearly was conveyed in Austin's brain, though.

Austin walked over to the passenger door of the Jeep, paused for a few seconds, slid into the seat, and pulled the passenger door shut. He turned his face toward the man behind the wheel, but the man was staring forward. The Jeep started up and headed into a grove of trees at the back of the park.

Austin reached over and put a hand on the man's thigh, signaling his willingness, his surrender without a fight. "I wonder how big it is," he thought.

"Big enough; almost more than you can take. You'll never forget the stretch," came back at him across the space—not voiced; by brain wave. The man took Austin's hand and moved it back to the young man's side of the gearshift. "Not yet. Not while we're moving," entered Austin's mind.

The Jeep turned off the macadam-surfaced road and onto a dirt one leading deeper into the trees. They passed a picnic ground and then continued onto a track that was just two dirt ruts with grass between them. The Jeep turned into a tight, cleared slot, and turned the ignition off.

"Are you going to fuck me here?" Austin asked.

"Yes, here, now. How much?" came into Austin's brain.

"What?" Austin said—aloud, the bald questions fighting to shatter the telepathy connection, to force the discussion into the real world.

"How much? How much for a fuck?" The question was spoken. The man's voice was deep, raw.

"I don't understand," Austin said. It no longer was floating around in the ether somewhere. This was a raw transaction. "You don't think I'm some sort of rent-boy do you."

"I know exactly what you are." Delivered telegraphically again, but then the man's voice. "I'll give you a hundred."

"OK, sure," Austin responded, a bit hurt, shocked when it was out in the open like this. He hadn't given a thought to put a fee to it. He'd liked it better when it was a surreal, happening in his brain. And then it returned to that mode.

"Strip off," intruded into his thoughts. This was better, returning to a mind thing. Austin pulled his shorts and jock off his legs.

"I wonder how his lips taste," he thought. The man turned to him, reached over and cupped the young man's neck, and pulled him in for a lingering kiss.

"And his cock. I wonder how big it is . . . how it tastes."

The man pushed his own athletic shorts and jock off his legs and turned expectantly toward Austin in the seat. He was big and thick—exceptionally so considering his slim construction. And he was erect.

"Find out. Suck it," was conveyed to Austin. He lowered his head over the man's lap and took the cock in his mouth. The man sighed and leaned back in the driver's seat. One arm went over Austin's back, holding the young man hunched over his lap. The other reached in and grasped Austin's cock, stroking it.

"Nice. Sweet," was conveyed to Austin.

The young man moaned. "I wonder . . ."

"If this continues, I'm going to come. But you want me to come inside you, don't you?"

Static in the brain waves, but the "Yes," floated up in Austin's brain.

"I'm moving over there, on top of you, inside you."

"Yes."

The man's arm came off Austin's back and he let loose of the young man's cock. Austin sat up in the passenger seat.

"Yes, yes. Come over here. Cover me. Fuck me." That was spoken.

The man came across the gearshift, moving between Austin's thighs, grasping them, wishboning them, and raising them. Austin pressed the balls of one of his feet into the top of the windshield where it met the edge of the canvas top. The other pressed into the center of the roof.

"Yes, yes. Fuck me."

He scooted his butt past the edge of the seat. The man was on his knees, his hands palming, squeezing, and spreading Austin's butt cheeks, as he rolled the young man's pelvis up and lifted it—to his mouth.

"Do it. Be good to me. Ah," Austin sighed as the man worked his anus opening with his tongue. The man's fingers followed.

"Shit. Fuck. You're driving me crazy."

"Yes, indeed," came back at him. "Sweet boy, sweet ass. Can't wait to be inside. Gonna fuck the shit out of you. Gonna fuck you silly now."

"Shit. Fuck!"

The man didn't wait long. Crouching over Austin, the man worked his cock inside the young man's ass, deep.

"Tight. Tight. Open to me, dammit."

"Sorry, So sorry. I've only done it once before."

"Don't be sorry. I love it. Ah, there you go. Comin' up the pipeline. Fuck, YES!"

"Oh, my god. Fuck! So deep. So, fuckin' big and deep. Please be good to me."

In full possession and control, the man started to stroke. Surrendering, laying back, vulnerable, open, stretched, and filled, Austin tried to take his mind off the shaft punishing his channel. He teased the man's nipples, ferreting them out of the matting of hair on the man's pecs, with his fingers. When his lips went to the man's nipples, the thought conveyed to him was, "Yes, yes, like that. Driving me crazy. Work me. Own me. Gonna come. Pull out or—"

"Take it. Take it. Give it to me!"

"Do me, do me. Do it now! Come inside me," raced through Austin's brain . . .

And the man did, the two clutching each other tight, tensing, jerking, releasing, jerking, releasing. Austin came as well, having gotten a hand between them and stroked himself off.

The second time, the man was sitting in the passenger seat, holding Austin's waist between his hands, while, facing him, Austin bounced on his cock.

"Sit on it. Ride it. Ride it. Fuck yourself on it," zipped across the ether.

"Fuckin' shit, yes!" shot back.

"Take it, take it, take it," the man's mind roared.

"Get it, get it, get it," Austin's mind roared back, the young man mastering the telepathy now.

Austin took it and the man got what he wanted. The waves coursing back and forth weren't pure, though. There was something in reserve behind them—something not quite right. The reserve was on both sides. Austin's mixed response could be explained as this all being so new to him, not completely settled. But what was it from the man? What was he holding back on? It didn't seem he was holding back, of course.

"So sweet. So young and fresh. So fuckin' tight. Love your tight little ass," floated across the ether from him.

"So big and thick. You're a fuckin' machine. Love your big cock," came floating back.

Holding there, Austin in the man's lap, the cock still buried in him, both of them concentrating on it going flaccid, Austin thinking, "Keep it hard for as long as you can. I want it again. I need it again—everything out in open. It's not all revealed yet."

"No, it's not," the man admits in his mind behind throwing up into the air, "I'm trying. I'm trying. I don't want it to end."

Austin's thought coming back, "No, don't let it end."

"Shit. I've gone too far. It must end. Get out of the car and run."

"What? Why?" The telepathic connection was shattered. Austin had said this aloud.

The response came back aloud as well, the man's deep voice strangled. "You've got to leave before it's too late." The hundred dollars he was paying Austin for sex lay on the dashboard. The man grabbed it, thrust it back in his pocket, and pressed Austin's head between his hands, forcing the young man to lock eyes with his, fighting to get back to nonverbal communications.

And then he managed to make the connection.

"I'm a vice cop. If I have to say anything it will be to tell you I'm taking you in for prostitution. I saw the man at the college pay you for sex. We are here for me to trap you."

"Oh shit," Austin exclaimed.

"Get out of the car. Run. There's a backup car somewhere behind us."

"I can't. I need it from you," Austin's brain cried out.

"I'll find you. When I'm off duty. Now, go."

Austin scrambled off the man's lap, as he got the passenger door open. He stumbled out of the Jeep, grabbing up his shorts and jock, and ran back, through the grove, parallel to, but not on the bike path, headed for a housing development on the other side of the park from the main entrance and park roads.

On the edge of the park, near the boundary where the housing development started, Austin dropped onto his back beside a pond to catch his breath and calm down.

"Are you there? Are you safe?" floated into his mind.

"Yes."

"Are you alone?"

"Yes."

"I want you again. I have to have you again. I am there, with you, on top of you. I'm mounting you, Open to my penetration."