This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any existing people or events is coincidental. If a story involving sexual contact with minors bothers you or is illegal where you live, stop reading now. This is Part 4. Please read Part 1 first, which can be found here: Tommy's Coach
Tommy's Coach, Part 4
When Wednesday afternoon came, Dad picked me up from school so we could go to my game against the Giants. I was mostly better so I figured I'd get to pitch. We stopped at home so I could change and then we drove to the field. Dad was being really nice to me and we just talked about normal stuff. I think the whole Coach thing was breaking down whatever had kept us from being close.
When we got to the field Coach smiled big at me. He took a bat and poked at my crotch with it. There was a thunk as it hit my cup. "You passed the cup check, Tommy. Good thing for your Dad." He looked at Dad and laughed but I could tell he was serious too. "How's the gonads, son? Are you ready to pitch?"
I blushed a little, him saying that in front of the other guys. "Mostly all better, Coach. I think I can go."
"That's my boy." Coach turned my cap backwards on my head. "Let's go trounce these guys."
I pitched four innings and only gave up three hits, but my thigh started to ache pretty bad so Coach let Scott Akers pitch the last two innings. He gave up a run but we managed to get out with a 3 - 1 win. Coach was really happy. After the game he put his arm around me and walked with us back to our car.
"Is your Dad taking care of you, Tommy?" he asked. I nodded. Things were a lot better with Dad now.
Coach shook his head. "Tommy... is your Dad taking care of you?" He looked at Dad when he asked this time.
I understood what he meant now. I felt my face get hot again. "Umm... Yes Coach."
Coach smiled a little, still looking at Dad. "When was the last time he took care of you, Tommy?"
I looked at Dad too. He was turning as red as me. "Yesterday, Coach," I said. That was when we'd talked about Uncle Matt.
Coach grinned bigger. "That's the way, son. After this outing you deserve to be taken care of again. Don't you think so, Bob?"
Dad just nodded. He didn't seem as angry anymore when Coach talked to him that way. Coach put his hand on Dad's shoulder. "Tell me what you're going to do when you get home, Bob." He said it quietly so nobody else would hear.
"I'm going to... take care of him," Dad said, trying to look Coach in the eye.
Coach was impatient. "What are you going to do, Bob?"
Dad swallowed and looked down. "I-I'm going to blow him." It was just a whisper, but Coach slapped him on the back, hard.
"Yes you are, Bob. Oh and... my house. Ten AM on Saturday. See you then." I thought Dad might argue with him but he didn't. I started to get a stiffy and was anxious to get home.
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When Saturday came we didn't talk about going to Coach's until it was time to leave. Dad just said, "You ready, Tommy?" I said ya and we got in the car. On the way I could tell he was thinking.
Finally he said, "Do you ever wish that Coach Mike was your Dad, Tommy?"
I was really surprised. He had this really intense look on his face and was staring out the car window. It wasn't hard to answer though.
"No way, Dad. You're my Dad. He's just... Coach. I mean, I like Coach and all, but... you're Dad. I... I love you, Dad. I know it's kinda weird since Mom left, but... things are so much better now. No way."
I guess he could tell that I meant it. Dad kept staring and said, "I... don't like it when he calls you 'son.'"
I hadn't really thought about that. It was just something Coach did. "He calls all the guys that sometimes, Dad. It doesn't mean anything."
Dad nodded. "But he said I was a bad father, and I almost feel like he's trying to... take you away from me."
I thought for a minute. Coach didn't have any kids so maybe that was why he wanted to be a Coach. But he was kinda scary and I could never imagine him being my Dad. "He can't, Dad. You're my Dad." It was the best I could think to say. He smiled so I guess it was the right thing.
When we got to Coach's house, Dad surprised me by looking Coach straight in the eye and talking to him. I was surprised too that Coach listened to everything he said.
"Listen, Mike... Whatever else is happening here... with Tommy, and you... he's my son. He's not your son. So, regardless of the other... stuff, I'd appreciate it if you didn't call him 'son.' You may think it's not important, but it's important to me." Dad looked at me and I smiled. I thought it was really cool that he was saying that. I was proud of him.
Coach waited a good long while before saying anything. He stared hard at Dad and then at me. Finally he said, "Bob, that's the first thing that you've said since I've known you that makes me think there's hope for you as a parent. You sounded like you actually give a shit about your boy, and I respect that. I don't have kids of my own, and I guess I'm in the habit of using that word around the boys, but I know all too well they're not mine. I will say that if I had a son, I'd hope that he'd be a lot like Tommy... so I hope you know how lucky you are. I won't refer to Tommy that way any more."
Dad looked relieved. Coach actually stuck out his hand and Dad shook it. They smiled at each other.
While they were still shaking hands, Coach said, "Now get your clothes off, Bob. This doesn't change what you are. In fact, I think getting you to understand what you are is already helping you to be a better parent. But we're not all way the down the road of self-discovery for you, are we?" He said it this calm, friendly way, like it was the most normal thing. Dad started to answer but Coach gave him a less patient look and Dad just swallowed. "Naked. Now, cocksucker. You too, Tommy. Everything off."
Dad kinda grumbled but he started to take off his clothes, so I did too. Coach chuckled. "Spare me, Bob. You knew what was going to happen when you came here. And here you are. You and your son."
Dad said, "You have the pictures. I had to come."
Coach was annoyed. "It's always somebody else's fault, isn't it? 'My brother made me, you made me, you have the pictures.' I'll make a prediction, Bob. I predict that someday soon I'll tell you that I've deleted all the pictures, and I'll swear that I'll never threaten you again. And I predict that the day after that, you'll be back here sucking my cock of your own free will. And that you'll be a much happier guy then. Because you'll have accepted what you are and dealt with it. A contented, well-adjusted cocksucker. I've known quite a few in my day. Let me assure you, you need this."
Dad was shaking a little but he was still undressing. "Uncle Matt didn't really make him." I'm not sure why I said it. I guess I thought maybe it would help. Maybe Coach was right about my Dad and what would make him happy.
Coach laughed. "I figured that was the case, Tommy. He told you about it, did he?"
I nodded. "Ya. Dad pretended to be this girl Uncle Matt liked so that Uncle Matt would let my Dad blow him."
Dad looked daggers at me. I kinda shrugged. "That's what you said, Dad."
Dad stammered. "I wasn't... I didn't... it wasn't... what it sounds like." His face was scary red. By then we'd both stripped everything off. It was weird how being naked wasn't a big deal anymore.
Coach just smiled. "Look at your Dad's cock, Tommy." I looked.
"Is it hard?" Coach asked.
"Ya, it's wicked hard," I said. It was for sure.
Coach went on. "He knows he's here to blow me, and to blow you, and his dick is as hard as a flagpole. What does that mean, Tommy?"
I didn't have to think about it much. "It means he likes it, I guess."
"That's exactly right, Tommy." Coach sat on the couch like before and pointed to where he wanted me to sit next him. "Me first, this time, Bob. Get busy."
Dad looked angry and sad all at the same time, but he did it. He undid Coach's pants and started. Coach wasn't hard at first but pretty soon he was and he was telling Dad what to do. He pushed it all the way in sometimes and I could see that Dad couldn't breathe but he didn't stop. Coach played with my nuts while Dad did it so I was totally stiff too.
After a while Coach kinda grunted and pushed Dad's head away. Dad look confused, but he didn't seem angry anymore. Coach turned toward me and he grabbed his dick and he pumped it... and he shot his stuff all over me. Mostly it went on my dick and balls but it was on my tummy and chest and legs too. There was so much. Coach groaned and pulled on his dick until it wasn't dripping anymore. It felt warm and it tickled where ran down my skin. It wasn't like it was icky. I was so hard that anything on me would have felt good. I didn't know what to think or say so I didn't say anything.
Coach turned back to Dad. Dad looked like he want to hide. I guess maybe he knew what was happening even if I didn't.
Coach was real calm. "Clean my cum off of your son, Bob. All of it. With your mouth, if that wasn't obvious already. Make sure he cums himself at least once in the process. Are we understood?"
Coach stood up and walked to the kitchen. Dad was sort of sheepish. He whispered to me, "I'm sorry, Tommy... I didn't know he was going to do that... I wouldn't..." I guess he was going to say that he wouldn't have let Coach do it, but we both knew that Dad couldn't have stopped him.
"It's ok, Dad. Just do it. I need it bad." My dick was twitching like it wanted to jump off my body.
Dad closed his eyes and started licking me. He did the parts farthest away from my dick first. As much as I wanted him to blow me, it felt pretty nice. He did my legs and my chest and then my tummy. By the time he got to my nuts I was making all kinds of noises. Coach was back with a beer and was watching. It was like forever but Dad finally started sucking me for real and I felt it all go stars in about ten seconds in his mouth. It was the best yet.
I guess Coach could tell it was good. He grinned at me and tapped Dad on the head. Dad turned to look up at him.
"I can tell that you love your son, Bob. You love him enough to stand up to me to claim him, and you love him enough to lick another man's cum from his penis. There's hope for you. More work to do, but there's hope."
Coach leaned over. "You missed a spot, Bob." He wiped a glob of his cum from my hip with his finger and then smeared it onto Dad's forehead. "Wear it home. You earned it, like cocksucker war paint." Coach chuckled at his own joke. Dad didn't seem to think it was funny.
"Is your Dad still hard, Tommy?" Coach sounded like he did during a game. I looked. Dad was hard for sure.
"Yes Coach."
"What does that mean, sport?"
"It means he likes it, Coach"
"Yes it does. Don't let him forget that, Tommy. Bob, get dressed. Take your son home. Take care of him, and listen to him. He knows you better than you know yourself."
When we got to the car, Dad started to wipe the white streak of Coach's stuff from his forehead.
"Dad... Coach said to wear it home." If Coach asked me later I didn't want him to be mad. It was hard to tell what Dad was thinking, but he stopped wiping. After we started driving he said, "Dairy Queen?" I smiled and said, "Totally yes. Starved." When I looked at Dad's face though I said, "Umm... we should probably go to the drive-through." Dad looked confused for a second. Then he laughed like he did when he farted, kinda embarrassed.
"Ya. Drive through. Good idea, son." Things were ok.