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From: mannygotrocks@yahoo.com
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Subject: {ASSM} Song of the South  Go, Bulldogs, Go!  Ch. 4
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Date: Sat, 24 Nov 2007 04:10:02 -0500
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Song of the South-Go, Bulldogs, Go!  Ch.  4

   It's been a while since I posted a Song of the South story.  This one
has a lot of m/m sex and as usual involves coercion, humiliation,
interracial sex and lot of other nasty, nasty stuff.  If that offends you,
you should get far away right now.  It's been reposted to correct an error.

   If you like this, please send some feedback the author's way.  It makes
the next one easier to write.

   Song of the South-Go, Bulldogs, Go!  Chapter 4 (m/m, interr, voy, mast,
semi-nc) By Mannygotrocks at yahoo dot com

   Coach Richard Bender hit the "stop" button on the VCR remote and yawned.
He rubbed a hand over his face and stood up.  The other coaches were gone;
their sexual shenanigans earlier in the day had worn them out.  Bender, on
the other hand, was still watching tape of the next opponent.  Now his
office was dark, save for the blue glow of the TV screen.

   He stretched and reached for the doorknob.  The greasy burger and fries
seemed to have gone right through him.  He crossed the darkened locker room
and entered the training room.  The only illumination came from the shower
room.  A few of the recessed lights were always on, just for security.  He
didn't bother to turn on any more lights; he knew where the crapper was. 
He turned left and went into the narrow hallway that housed the urinals and
toilets.  He went to the last stall and unzipped his shorts.  He hunkered
down in the dark and took a mammoth shit.  He remembered some comedian who
asked if anyone had ever crapped so big their pants fit better.  Bender was
pretty sure that his shorts would look baggy after this.  He grunted as he
finished, then wiped himself and stood up.  He flushed the toilet with his
foot and headed back toward the office.

   He was just turning toward the office when he realized that he heard the
sound of water running in the shower room.  Probably some of the guys
working out late.  The coach took a couple of steps toward the showers and
started to call out when he heard some other, indefinable sound beneath the
hammering of the water.  Puzzled, he stepped around to where he could,
while still safely in shadow himself, see into the shower room.

   It was a big tiled room.  Two large central pipes ran from floor to
ceiling.  Showerheads were arranged around the pipes just above head
height. The jets were turned on full-blast on the near pipe and billowing
clouds of steam roiled through the room.  Bender squinted at the figure he
saw and realized it was Jamil Whitaker.

   Jamil was a junior, seventeen years old, about six-one, maybe six-two.
He weighed 205, a little undersized to play linebacker, but his athleticism
and speed made him valuable on special teams and in pass coverage.  When he
filled out to his full adult bulk, he would be formidable.  Now he was a
rangy, buff boy with dark-chocolate skin.  He was handsome, with clean-cut
features.  A long waterfall of thick, ropy dreadlocks hung just past his
shoulders.

   What Bender noticed, though, was the boy's cock.  The curving,
vein-wrapped member stood out a good nine inches.  It was easy to tell
because Jamil was fully erect, his left hand wrapped around his prick as he
jacked off.  Two huge balls swung freely in his wrinkled nutsack.  As his
hand jerked back and forth it was obvious that he was uncircumcised.  His
eyes fluttered and the hot water ran over his sculpted pecs and muscular
shoulders and arms as he pleasured himself.  He turned his head to look
over his shoulder and Bender realized that Jamil was not alone.

   Eddie Robinette was Ambrosia's all-state tailback.  He was guaranteed to
be playing Division 1 football the next year.  He was shorter than Jamil
and more heavily muscled.  He had a Superman logo tattooed on one bicep and
a ring of barbed wire tattooed around the opposite arm.  He sported his own
pulsing hard-on.  Eddie's white cock was not as long as Jamil's, but it was
a good seven inches and thicker than the black boy's prick.  Eddie pulled
his own pud as he spoke to Jamil.  Bender couldn't make out the words over
the hissing of the shower, but he saw Jamil turn slightly and shuffle his
feet apart.  This gave the coach a better view as the black boy reached
behind himself with his right hand and began to push the middle finger into
his asshole.  Jamil's face contorted into a grimace as he forced the digit
between his round, firm buns and into his puckered fudge tunnel.  A cruel
smile played on Eddie's lips as he spoke again.  Bender saw Jamil twist his
hand so as to thrust another finger into his rosebud.

   Coach Bender became aware that his own cock was painfully hard, trapped
inside his shorts.  As Eddie ordered Jamil to insert a third finger into
his asshole, Dick Bender slipped behind the trainer's table and lowered his
shorts to his ankles as he sat down on a chair.  As he watched the two boys
in the shower he began to pull on his own crank.

   By now, Jamil had all four fingers of his right hand crammed into his
butthole.  He jerked off frantically, his balls dancing in time to his
tugging.  Eddie watched for a while, then stepped around in front of Jamil.
He grabbed one of the black boy's nipples and twisted.  Jamil shuddered and
began to pull his pud even harder.  He thrust his right hand back and
forth, twisting his fingers inside his sphincter.  Eddie grinned and said
something as he released Jamil's nipple.

   Bender's hand moved faster on his prick as he watched Jamil get down on
all fours on the shower-room floor.  Eddie moved behind him and squatted a
little.  The tailback grabbed his cock to steady it, then pushed it into
the black boy's anus.  Jamil's face twisted in distress as Eddie slid his
hard, throbbing pecker forward.  When he was fully socketed in Jamil's ass,
he gave another command.  Jamil reached back and began to jack off as Eddie
commenced butt-fucking.

   Bender sat open-mouthed, his breathing shallow, fist pumping his boner
furiously as he watched his star tailback dominate his black teammate. 
Every so often, Eddie would pull his cock out of the other boy's ass and
walk around in front of him.  Jamil would suck the throbbing prick, never
missing a beat on his own member.  Eddie would hold up his cock to let
Jamil suck his balls.  Sometimes Eddie would stop in mid-thrust and reach
down, grabbing Jamil's enormous nuts and squeezing.  The black boy would
gasp and his masturbation would almost falter.

   The coach watched from the darkened training room, beating his own meat.
Eddie pulled out and slapped Jamil on the ass.  The black boy rolled over
onto his back and pulled his knees up to his shoulders, rolling his ass off
the floor.  Eddie placed the head of his cock against Jamil's asshole and
shoved it in.  Once he had found his rhythm, he ordered Jamil to begin
masturbating again.  The black boy complied, his fist sliding up and down
the hard, black shaft.  A puddle of his own pre-cum formed on his
cobblestone abs to be washed away by the pounding shower.  Jamil's lips
began to twitch.  Eddie grinned wickedly and began to pound harder.  Jamil
threw his head back against the tiled floor, thrusting his hips into the
air as his cock exploded, thick jets of sticky white jizz splattering
against his chest and arcing up to splash onto his face.  When Jamil's
spurts finally subsided, Eddie pulled his cock out of the black boy's
asshole and got to his feet.  Straddling Jamil's face as the black boy lay
exhausted on the floor, Eddie jerked off until his own copious jets of
spunk burst from his prick and showered Jamil's face and chest.  Coach
Bender gasped as his own orgasm arrived and he shot his sticky man-batter
onto the carpeted floor.  As Eddie stepped back under the shower to rinse
off, Bender tucked his softening cock into his shorts and crept back toward
his office.  As he settled in front of the VCR again, he kept seeing his
two players, Eddie mounting Jamil.  He was still thinking about it as Eddie
Robinette walked through the locker room, a towel wrapped around his waist.
He didn't even glance toward the coach's office; it was dark.  After Eddie
dressed and left, Jamil wandered in, still nude, his limp cock bobbing, his
pendulous balls swinging.  He dressed and left.  Bender shook his head.  He
just might have to talk to Jamil.  

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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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