Craig Esposito, Making the Grade, Handjobs, Handjobs Magazine, Illustration, Coach, Teacher, Story, Erotic, Gay

Story Time: “Making the Grade” From Handjobs Magazine

Keeping those grades up is HARD work for young Billy.


 

Sometimes I read stories looking for just the right one to feature here, and some reasons why I think it’s important or things that really stood out to me. Lots of them are terrible and dated and use slang expressions like “and then I slid into him, taking his cherry,” that just make you cringe and wonder who could find that kind of hackneyed language titillating. These stories are often fixated on sexual interaction as dominance or lesson-teaching and that just feels like such a tired way to describe the myriad ways two men are capable of engaging.

Today’s story isn’t free of those ideas entirely. But there is an air of fun and lightheartedness to it that I find endearing. Making the Grade first appeared in Handjobs Magazine back in November of 2001, and is listed without an author credit. So I don’t know to whom this story is (or my compliments about it are) properly attributed. But I do know that rather than punishing poor Billy for his lack of interest in school, Coach decides to let Billy know he can “fix it” so Billy can stay on “the team” despite his poor grades. Details like how he’s going to fix it, or what sport Billy even plays are better left to the philosophers anyway.

Coach proceeds to get naked with his young ward, hop into a relaxing shower, and guide Billy from a D to an A+ in a gentle and largely unforceful manner. By the end, it’s actually sort of dear that the story should conclude with the line “Lick it clean, Billy and you’ve got yourself an A+,” he said as a wide grin spread across his face.

That’s my kinda coaching.

The story featured illustrations in the original publication by prolific gay and fetish artist Craig Esposito (AKA David Wool) and they are shared here, courtesy of Bleuboys.com, which has a great many other works by Esposito and deserves your attention and funding, if you felt so generous.

 


 

Making the Grade

Written by Unknown and illustrated by Craig Esposito [Handjobs Magazine | November 2001]

 

I wasn’t the best student by any means; I even had some failing grades, but Coach Michaels said that as long as I played hard, he would do his best to keep me on the team. He told me that he would deal with my teachers and the principal, and for me not to worry about it. Coach was the kind of man that easily won you over. I don’t ever remember him not getting his way.

There was a catch, however. “One good turn deserves another,” Coach Michaels told me the first time my failing grades threatened to pull me from the team. He asked me to stick around after practice, that he had something he had to talk about with me. I was nervous. I was sure it was going to be about my grades, and afraid he would have to dismiss me from the team. He had just stripped down and was ready to get in the shower. Being alone with Coach in his private office made me nervous and antsy. I was mesmerized by his sleek, manly features, especially his thick cock and low hanging, hairy balls. When Coach’s cock was soft, it stuck out in front, then curved down, almost as if from the weight of his meat. I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

Coach wasn’t in the least uptight about being naked around me. He moved around the office just as though he were alone. He even lifted his dick, skinned back the foreskin and checked out his exposed cockhead, before letting his loose foreskin slide back over the purple, sensitive looking crown.

I was fascinated by his fleshy, uncut cock because my own had been circumcised. My dad had a natural cock as well, but it wasn’t as impressive as Coach Michael’s. It lacked his size and had less foreskin, in comparison.

Coach reached down and cupped his low hangers and fondled them. He couldn’t miss the attention I was giving his nude body and especially his crotch.

“Billy, I can fix it so you can stay on the team, boy. You interested?” he suddenly stated. “I’m sure you must know that’s why I asked to see you, right?” he added.

“Ahh … yes, sir,” I answered quietly. I was still fidgeting around, unable to control the itch and tingling I felt in my crotch.

“Relax, boy. Get out of that jockstrap and get comfortable. It’s just you and me here; we can talk like real men, right?” he suggested.

Craig Esposito, Making the Grade, Handjobs, Handjobs Magazine, Illustration, Coach, Teacher, Story, Shower“Have a seat on the couch, while I get freshened up,” he said.
As Coach stepped inside the shower and started rinsing off, I stripped down like he asked. Once I was nude as well, I suddenly felt

relaxed and leaned back against the leather pillows on the couch. The soft feel of cool leather on my naked skin and seeing Coach

Michaels naked and soaking wet made my dick rock hard in an instant. In the shower, it looked like Coach was starting to throw a boner, too. He never looked up at me as he started to stroke his swollen mancock, even though he was talking to me the whole time. I answered his questions as I watched in total amazement. I couldn’t believe how open and bold my coach was being right in front of me.

“You jack off a lot, Billy?” he finally asked, turning to look right at me. H e couldn’t miss my boner.

“Yeah, Coach. I guess you might say so … fairly often.”

“Feels good, don’t it boy? Almost nothing better than whacking away at your own meat, huh, son?” he said as he continued fisting his fully hard dick.

Even though his cock was wet and dripping with water, I could tell that the tip was sticky. I knew what it was. My own dick leaked like that when I jerked off. I licked my lips as I stared at his juicy cockhead. Coach Michaels saw my reaction and smiled.

“Billy, come in here and give me a hand. The next best thing to jacking yourself off, is having someone else do it for you,” he stated.
I jumped up, and with my prick dancing and bouncing around, I climbed in the large shower stall with my coach. I was face to face with him.

“Now, about those grades Billy. You have to learn to concentrate in order to improve them, don’t you think?”

How could I think? I was weak in the knees, standing there in the same shower as my hunky coach, feeling the spray of water surround my naked torso. My hardon pointed at the wet, dripping ceiling of the shower stall.

“You have to take your mind off of that thing in your pants, boy! Some good release, like we’re about to do, will help you concentrate on your studies, you understand?”

“I guess so Coach. Ahh … what kind of release do you mean?” I stuttered.

“You’re no fool, Billy. I doubt you’re as innocent as you look. Take hold of my cock, boy. Show me how you jerk off,” he muttered. “Give that big boy some good strokes, son. You know how it can make you feel. Help me out here.”

I hesitated, then reached out and touched Coach’s firm cock. Instantly, I wrapped my fingers around the shaft as he looked down, watching me.

“Oh, yeah. That feels good. Now, nice and slow; keep a good grip on that fucker, boy. Coach is going to teach you how to relax and get your mind off sex, so you can study harder, you got it? And Billy, this is just between you and me, understand? Not a word to anyone, got it?”

“ Yes, sir,” I quickly answered.

“Play with it, Billy. Take your time. Relax – enjoy it, son. I sure am!” he announced. “Takes my mind off all my troubles. That’s it. Good job, Billy!”

Coach had his head tilted up and back as I jacked him off, and the warm water cascaded down his body. “You do a good job down there, son, and I’ll see to it that you stay on the team, you understand, Billy?” he said.

I nodded, not knowing if he even saw the motion of my head. I was looking right at the tip of his seeping cockhead as I felt his hands come to rest on my shoulders and gently began pushing me down onto my knees in front of him.

“Help me out here some more, Billy,” he said as his big, wet organ swayed before my eyes. “Ever have a good suck, son? Ever have someone to blow you, kid?” I knew for sure that was what he wanted.

“No … ah … no, sir,” I mumbled softly, hardly audible above the sound of the shower.

“Well, Billy, it’s time I show you how good it makes me feel. Sort of give you some hands-on experience. Want to try it?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “Put your lips right up against my cock, boy. Umm, yeah, that’s it. Now, open up and let me slide it right in there, son. Ahh, fuck, yes. Yes, that’s good boy. It feels fucking good, Billy.”

I was frozen in time as I let coach slip his hard, wet cock into my mouth.

“Suck my cock, Billy. That’s the way. Wrap those pretty lips around it, boy.”

My coach held onto my head and started pumping his rigid fuck meat in and out of my mouth. The water ran down through my hair and across my face. I was drowning with pleasure, my mouth full of mancock. I avidly jerked my dick as my Coach face fucked me. I knew what it felt like to be horny, and I felt the horniest I ever had.

“Those grades must be up to a C by now, Billy, but you have to work at it and be willing to do whatever I ask if you want better marks, understand?” Coach stated, forcing his cockhead down my constricted throat. I gagged and coughed.

“You can take it, boy. Just relax; let your mind and throat relax. Open up,” he encouraged. “Fuck, yeah! That’s it!” he shouted as his slippery cock slid down my tight throat. “Your mouth was made for my cock. Take it. Suck me, Billy!”

I’m not sure how long Coach pounded my face with his quivering fuck stick, but it seemed like hours. I trembled and shivered, losing my pent up jizz down the shower drain. I pulled off Coach’s cock and leaned back against the shower wall.

“Want to go for an A, Billy? Let’s see just how tight that pretty, smooth ass of yours is,” he remarked, running his palm across my quivering asscheeks.

Getting passing grades by blowing my coach so I could stay on the team had just become a delightful experience, but what he now had in mind, worried me a bit. I had heard about guys getting cornholed, but actually being on the receiving end of it, was something else entirely.

Coach was his old persistent self, determined to get his way. Soon, his finger penetrated my most vulnerable spot and he buried it inside my tender butt.

The invasion felt strange, and yet it filled me with unexpected pleasure. It was evident that Coach Michaels knew what he was doing. Obviously, mine wasn’t the first cherry he had taken. Coach patiently primed me for his length of mancock.

Before too long, I was doubled over with my head literally between my legs and my own genitals hanging right above my face. I could almost reach my dick with my tongue. My horny Coach started rubbing his cock all over my exposed ass. I could feel his low hanging balls brush against my asscheeks.

Soon I was going to know just how much cum Coach had stored up in his hot nuts. After his insistent penetration, he buried his hardon to the hilt. We were joined like Siamese twins. When he pulled back and plowed in again, his loose hanging balls slapped against me.

“Take it, kid. Feel how good it is. Yeah, you’re on my team now, right, boy?” he murmured.

At first it didn’t feel that great, but the longer he fucked me the better it got. I began to match his sighs of pleasure and could feel his sweat drenched body dripping on me.

“Ahh, you are so fucking tight. You like getting fucked, huh?” he insisted.

Any worries I had about getting a cock up my ass were long gone. I was lost in the pleasure of having a man’s hot fuck shaft drilling away at my sweaty asshole. I would have to find a dozen reasons to come see my Coach if it would always be like this.

Craig Esposito, Making the Grade, Handjobs, Handjobs Magazine, Illustration, Coach, Teacher, Story, FuckingCoach started bucking like crazy. He rammed his meat deep, hitting a spot that sent shivers through me and brought on my second release. We were both shooting our cum together. I shot all over my own face, chin, and neck. As it dripped down, I could feel Coach’s throbbing tool continue to fill my burning butt hole to capacity.

He abruptly pulled his long shaft from my hole, leaving me empty, and spilled his final load of man jizz on my asscheeks. I could feel the wetness and warmth as it dribbled down onto my thigh. I tilted my head back and watched his sweaty, swaying balls as Coach’s breath slowly became more normal.

My entire body still tingled, and I was tense and stiff as I unwound my body and stretched out my limbs. Coach stood smiling down at me, his swollen penis looking damp and sticky. H e saw me looking at it and him. He crouched down, letting his equipment dangle above my face.

“Lick it clean, Billy and you’ve got yourself an A+,” he said as a wide grin spread across his face. 

 

 

 


 

Good for you, Billy.

 

-t

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