A Bisexual Journey – Chapter 7 – Giving into my DARK Desires

DARK Submission: A Bisexual Journey – Chapter 7 – Giving into my DARK Desires

I arranged for a substitute teacher Thursday so I could finish up all the game planning for Friday’s two games as well as scouting our potential finals opponent on the assumption we won both our games Friday…which I was confident we would. The finals tournament had six teams in two pools of three with the winner of each pool advancing to the final Saturday evening at six.

I also had the players given the afternoon off from classes, so we could head out a day early and get well-rested before our eleven o’clock tip off Friday. We would also play again that evening.

I was so busy I didn’t even have any time to even text Ashley, who promised she would drive up Saturday morning if we won our two games Friday.

The bus ride was loud and crazy, like bus rides always are, especially when the cheerleaders are on the bus as well. I worked with the other coaches on game planning and once we arrived at the dorms, where we were staying; we had a two-hour team meeting before sending the boys to their rooms around nine with a firm eleven o’clock curfew.

After a couple more hours of game planning, I am compulsive, I did my curfew checks. The boys each had their own dorm room as we found that they would be less likely to stay up horsing around than if they were sharing rooms; the small roster size of a basketball team made this feasible. The football team, for instance, would never be able to do that.

I knocked on Troy’s room, five minutes after curfew, and I was surprised to have Eric, his face red, open the door. He stammered, “S-s-sorry, Coach, I was just going back to my room.”

He was clearly embarrassed and I was pretty sure that Troy had been letting him suck his big black cock.

I looked at Troy on his bed and said, “You and Eric discussing strategy for tomorrow?”

“Nah, we were just talking and he was giving me a massage.”

“A massage?” I questioned, surprised by his answer.

Troy answered, his next sentence dripping with innuendo, “Eric knows he can’t play professionally; he wants to be a personal trainer. Besides, I had some stiffness I needed taking care of.”

I could feel the heat in my cheeks at Troy’s words. I replied, trying to hide my knowledge as well as the tent in my pants, “Well, don’t break curfew.”

“Sure thing Coach,” Troy shrugged.

The thought of his hard black cock popped into my head. I paused as I tried to compose myself.

“Is there something wrong, Coach?” Troy asked.

“Just tired,” I lied, “too many hours watching film and working on a game plan.”

“Well, get some sleep, Coach. Tomorrow is going to be a long, hard day,” Troy said. Although unbelievable, to me he seemed to stress both the words long and hard.

I stammered, the thought of me on my knees now playing in my head like a movie on loop, “Y-y-you too. I need my captain ready to go tomorrow.”

“I am always ready to go, Coach,” Troy retorted, again me reading his words and the hidden meaning in between the words.

Desperate to get out of his room, I mumbled something as I left before he could say anything else that had me thinking thoughts I shouldn’t be having.

We won our first game handily, 88-64 and now could relax a bit before our evening game.

As we were watching two teams in the other pool, including the first ranked Wolverines, Rhianna sat down beside me, much to my surprise.

“Hi coach,” she said, in her cheerleading outfit, her legs glistening in her pantyhose.

“Hi, Rhianna,” I smiled, acknowledging her before returning my attention to the game. Watching a team live was better for scouting than video at least that is what I found.

“Where is Ashley?” Rhianna asked, I noticed she didn’t refer to her as Ms. Grisham like she had in the past.

“Working,” I answered, barely paying attention to the question.

“Oh, I was hoping she would be here,” she replied.

Without thinking, barely processing her words because I was so focused on the court action, I replied, “She will be coming up tomorrow morning if we make the finals.”

“Delicious,” Rhianna said, before adding, “Thanks, Coach.”

“No problem,” I answered, before realizing as she began walking away that our brief conversation was rather unorthodox. I looked her way and she was chatting with her brother and I just shook my head assuming I was again reading too much into the conversation, as I probably had with Troy also.

I watched the rest of the game, confident I had found a couple ways to exploit the Wolverines should we meet them in the state championships tomorrow. They too won their opener easily 91-53.

The afternoon flew by and other than a half hour meeting with the players before our early dinner, I remained focused on the game at hand.

We won again, this one a lot closer, 80-78, Troy setting up the winning points with a great pass. My stress level was through the roof as we blew a 76-70 lead with just over a minute left. Thankfully, we pulled it out and my emotions instantly shifted from pulling my hair out to pumping my fist in the air in jubilation.

After giving a speech to the team about perseverance, I sent them back to the dorms while I watched the final game of the other draw as the Wolverines battled it out with the also undefeated Buckeyes. Like our game, this one was closer but the Wolverines pulled away in the last few minutes winning 88-77.

Emotionally drained, I headed back to the dorms. I went directly to Troy’s room to tell him who we were playing in the final and to briefly talk strategy.

I knocked on his door and was startled by Troy saying clearly perturbed, “You’re late.”

I took that as a strange invitation and entered to see Troy clearly having just finished showering standing there in only a towel.

“Late for what?” I joked.

Troy was clearly surprised by my appearance; I wondered if he was expecting Eric again. Troy grabbed his phone and quickly hit a few buttons, presumably texting someone.

“Eric was supposed to come and relieve my stiffness again,” Troy said, a slight bulge in his towel apparent.

“I won’t be long,” I said. “We are playing the Wolverines.”

“I know,” he answered, “I checked online.”

“So we are going to have to double team that Walker kid,” I said.

“I have never double teamed someone before,” Troy replied. My head instantly went sexual even though the comment was obviously about basketball. He was the one often double teamed.

“I think that if we neutralize him, our other players are stronger and we can win by playing a perfect team game,” I explained.

Right when I finished speaking, Troy’s towel dropped to the floor and Troy didn’t even try to cover himself up. Although I had seen his cock from afar and in action, seeing it so close, especially after all I now knew, from three feet away was something completely different. It was semi-erect and seemed to be calling my name. I couldn’t take my eyes off it as I flashed to Ashley’s fantasy, plus my own strange dreams of late and wondered to myself if maybe I didn’t want the same thing she did.

My cock grew rapidly in my trousers as I couldn’t tear my gaze from his semi-erect cock. I stared at it in open admiration, and I looked for way too long; I just stared, slack-jawed, as I was completely captivated by my player’s enormous cock.

“Coach, are you here to deal with my stiffness?” Troy asked, taking his cock in his hands.

Troy’s words broke through my mental fog. My jaw hung open as I stared in wonder. I looked up and stammered, “W-w-what?”

“You can’t take your eyes off it, can you, Coach?” Troy asked, smiling as it grew in his hands.

I shook my head weakly, desperate to stay in control as my body betrayed me, my eyes looking down again, his cock like a magnet to my eyes.

“Yeah, I figured as much,” Troy said with a smile, before adding, “You seemed pretty in awe when you were watching Eric blow me.”

I looked at him in shock, feeling myself rapidly losing control of this situation. My cock stiffened in my pants uncomfortably. He smirked at me. I couldn’t meet his gaze so I locked away from him; my attention returned to his massive, throbbing erection. I was losing control of the situation completely; his easy dominance further heightened my arousal. Again I barely got out, “Y-y-you saw me?”

“I did and you seemed pretty intense as you watched,” Troy said, his cock now a missile ready to launch, as I took many furtive glances at his beautiful member, completely unable to stop myself, my eyes unable to resist quick peeks, hopefully subtle glances, at his irresistable cock.

“I couldn’t believe it,” I weakly got out.

“What? That Eric is a cocksucker?” Troy asked, clearly confident with swearing in front of me now.

“I didn’t know Eric was gay,” I said.

Troy chuckled, “He’s not. He’s just white and all white boys bend for black cock.”

“Excuse me?” I questioned him, even though I seemed to be proof that his words were true.

“Eric is, like all white boys, naturally inclined to want to please black cock,” Troy explained, as if it was obvious.

“I don’t….” I began.

I was interrupted by Troy asking, “What is it about white boys begging to be cocksuckers for nigger cock?”

“Watch your language,” I scolded, trying with every ounce of my brain to keep in control. I was the adult, the coach.

Troy chuckled, “Coach we both know what you want right now. That’s to assist me with my stiffness.”
I didn’t speak…I didn’t move.

“On your knees, Coach,” he ordered.

“Troy, please…,” I protested, finally finding my voice. My protest was undermined however, as I nodded in reply, my mouth watering as I stared at his big black cock, and his hand slowly pumping it.”

“Coach, we don’t have a lot of time. I texted Eric not to stop by for now, but curfew is in forty-five minutes,” Troy pointed out. “If you aren’t interested, I will just text Eric to come and deal with my stiffness, he has actually became very good at it.”

My head was clouded with flashes of Ashley’s approval and my own growing fascination and curiosity, juxtaposed with doing what was morally right. I didn’t say anything as Troy moved to me and put his hands on my shoulders. My eyes pleaded for mercy, even as my mouth watered.