Breaking a Sweat
Noah woke slowly, the weight of the warm morning pressing down on him like a thick blanket. His body was still half-draped in sweat from the night before, the fan in the corner of the room having done basically nothing to curb the heat. He blinked, eyes adjusting to the soft glow of sunlight that spilled in through the blinds, illuminating the motes of dust floating in the air.
He could feel it before he even moved—the steady, insistent throb between his legs. His cock was hard, pulsing with a dull ache, straining against the sheets. The heat of his own body pooled between his legs and when he kicked them off, the air was thick with the smell of him.
Noah lay still for a moment, inhaling. The scent hit him hard—raw and musky, a heady mix of sweat and skin. He breathed in deeper, filling his lungs with it. It was intoxicating, primal. His cock twitched, and he let out a slow breath, his hand drifting down, grazing the warm skin of his abs.
He couldn’t help but touch himself, fingers slipping along his shaft, just enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin. His cock felt slick. The musky scent was stronger down there, way more concentrated. It hit him like a punch—sharp and animalistic. His body’s scent, the stink of sweat, salty and thick, mixing with the deeper, earthier musk of his cock and balls.
Noah closed his eyes, letting the smell wash over him, feeling it creep into his chest, winding its way through him. It made his pulse quicken, made his breath come in short, shallow bursts. He shifted, spreading his legs, savouring the weight of his own scent, how it filled the space around him. His fingers wrapped loosely around himself, the warmth of his skin matching the heat in the air.
He couldn’t help but get lost in it, the way his own body turned him on. The smell of his arousal lingered in the sheets, in the air, and he wanted to breathe it in, to bathe in it. His cock felt heavy in his hand. He tightened his grip slightly as he stroked himself once, twice, slow and deliberate. His hips lifted from the bed on instinct, chasing the sensation, his mind drifting into that hazy, horny space where everything blurred into the background—just the heat of his cock, the sweat on his skin, and the smell that filled his nose, intoxicating and irresistible.
He stayed like that for a while, letting his body take over, drowning in the slow burn of arousal. There was something about it, the way the smell of his own musk drove him wild, a kind of satisfaction in knowing it was his. It was strange, maybe, how much he loved the scent of himself, but in these moments, he didn’t care. It was all-consuming, pulling him deeper, making his cock pulse.
Eventually, he exhaled, long and slow, letting go of the tension that had built up in his chest. He had school soon, no time to rub one out. He ran a hand through his damp hair, the smell of his cock still clinging to his fingers. He stretched, muscles tight from sleep, and let the sensation linger for just a moment longer before pulling himself out of bed.
Noah rifled through his underwear drawer, pulling out the navy jockstrap he liked. The cool fabric felt good against his skin as he slipped it on, the snug fit cradling his cock and balls, leaving his ass bare. He stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the waistband, liking how the jock hugged him in all the right places. He turned slightly, checking himself out—the way the straps framed his hips, the way his body looked lean and toned. Yeah, he thought, biting back a grin. He looked good. Better than good.
When he left for school, the morning was already hot, even though the sun was just cresting over the rooftops. Noah’s t-shirt clung to his back as he walked, every step dragging him through the thick, humid air. His backpack weighed heavier than usual, straps digging into his shoulders, but it wasn’t the bag that made him uncomfortable. It was the persistent, throbbing ache between his legs.
His cock hadn’t gone down since he left the house. Every step, every shift of his hips made it rub against the fabric of his jock, and it only got worse the longer he walked. His skin was slick with sweat, his jockstrap damp with pre-cum. The friction, the heat—it was driving him insane.
His thoughts kept drifting back to his bed, to the smell that had surrounded him there, thick and musky. He could still smell it on himself, faint but lingering in the air around him. His cock twitched again, straining against the fabric, and he cursed under his breath.
He tried to focus on the sounds of the neighbourhood—the distant hum of traffic, the chatter of birds in the trees—but it was useless. His whole body felt keyed up, wound too tight, every nerve buzzing with the residual heat of his morning wood. He knew he had to get a handle on himself before he got to school, but nothing was working. His cock wouldn’t listen.
Almost unconsciously, his hand drifted downward, slipping beneath the waistband of his jock. Just a quick adjustment, he told himself, but his fingers brushed the skin beneath his balls, and he paused. The smooth skin was covered with sweat. He rubbed his fingertips around his ballsack, gathering the moisture that had pooled there, and brought his hand up, inhaled.
The smell hit him hard—sharp, salty, and unmistakably him. The scent curled through his senses like smoke. It was intoxicating, just like it had been in bed, only now it was stronger, mixed with the sweat from his walk. His cock pulsed in response, thick and heavy, begging for more attention, but he forced his hand back to his side, wiping his fingers on his shirt.
Get it together, he told himself, shaking his head as he neared the school gates. But the smell lingered in his nose, filling his body with a low, aching need. He could feel the dampness sticking to his skin, the sweat pooling in the crack of his ass, the waistband of his jock digging into his hips as his cock strained against it.
Up ahead, he spotted Jake, leaning against the gate with his usual lazy smirk. Noah swallowed, willing the heat in his body to cool, but it wasn’t happening. His cock was still hard, pressing insistently against his thigh, a constant reminder of how wound up he still was. Just act normal, he thought, taking a deep breath and forcing a grin as he approached.
Jake looked up as Noah neared, raising an eyebrow. “Morning, man. You look like you just ran a marathon or something.” He laughed, clapping Noah on the shoulder.
Noah forced a laugh, hoping Jake wouldn’t notice how hard he was. “Yeah, something like that,” he said, adjusting his backpack, trying not to squirm as his cock throbbed again.
Jake didn’t seem to notice, launching into a ramble about some YouTube video he’d watched the night before, and Noah let himself fall into the rhythm of the conversation, though his mind kept drifting. The smell, the heat, the feel of his cock pressed tight against his jock. It was all still there, just beneath the surface, simmering.
Noah and Jake walked side by side down the hall, heading toward the gym. Jake, just a couple of months older, was always the confident one—wiry, quick-witted, with that lazy smirk. Today though, Noah noticed something different. Jake kept stealing glances at him, his eyes flickering away whenever Noah turned to look.
It wasn’t like Jake to be quiet. Normally he’d be cracking jokes, talking about girls or the latest viral video. But as they walked, Noah couldn’t shake the feeling that Jake’s attention kept lingering a little too long. It made Noah’s pulse quicken, especially since he’d always found Jake attractive—though he buried that deep. After all, Jake was straight… wasn’t he?
They reached the locker room, and Noah peeled off his shirt, feeling the damp fabric stick to his skin. He saw Jake’s eyes dart his way again, and Noah could feel the heat between them. As he stripped down, revealing the snug blue jockstrap he’d decided to wear, he caught Jake staring openly.
“Dude, what are you wearing?” His voice was teasing but had an edge to it, like he wasn't sure how to feel about what he was seeing.
“Just a strap,” Noah shrugged, trying to sound casual, even as his heart raced. “Keeps everything in place.”
Jake laughed, but it felt forced, his gaze lingering on Noah’s pre-cum stained pouch for just a second too long. “Yeah, sure, just a strap.” He turned back to his locker, but Noah couldn’t ignore the tension that hung between them.
As they pulled on their sports gear and headed out to the gym, Noah’s mind buzzed with confusion. He couldn’t help but wonder: What if Jake wasn’t as straight as he thought?
Coach Evans' voice boomed across the echoing space of the gym. “Laps! Let’s go, boys!” His gruff tone cut through the chatter, silencing any groans before they could begin. He was ex-Army, solidly built with broad shoulders and arms like iron. Even in his early forties, the man was a force, his buzz cut and commanding presence making it clear that slacking off wasn’t an option.
Noah shot a look at Jake, who rolled his eyes, muttering, “Gotta love this guy,” before they joined the others, falling into the steady rhythm of running. The first few laps weren’t so bad, but the gym was stifling, the heat oppressive. Sweat poured off Noah almost instantly, the humidity in the room intensifying it. By the time they hit the halfway mark, he could feel it soaking through his shirt, dripping down his face, his neck, his back—everywhere.
The air felt heavier with each breath, the smell of sweat thickening in the room. Noah wasn’t the only one drenched—every guy in the class was soaked, but somehow, Noah’s sweat felt different. More intense. By the time Coach Evans blew the whistle to signal the end of the hour, he was drenched.
As they jogged back toward the locker room, something started to feel… off. Noah noticed the way the guys he passed seemed to glance at him, the way their eyes lingered, curious. Jake was right beside him, his usual easy grin in place, but even he kept stealing quick looks, like he was trying to figure something out. And were they… sniffing the air around him?
Noah frowned, brushing the thought aside as they stepped into the locker room, the familiar smell of damp towels, unwashed teenage boys and sweat hitting him. He peeled his gym shirt from his chest and pulled it over his head, feeling the soaked fabric lift away from his skin. Immediately, he noticed it—the thick, musky stink that wafted out from him, almost like it had been building up, simmering in the heat of the run. It hit the air hard, sharp and sour, the scent so strong even he wrinkled his nose for a second.
Jake, just a few feet away, was stripping down to his briefs, his skin shiny with perspiration. “Dude…” Jake screwed up his nose, waving his hand in front of his face. “You smell like ass!”
Noah snorted, about to laugh it off, but then Jake paused, his expression shifting. His hand, which had been fanning the air, dropped. Slowly, almost like he couldn’t help himself, Jake leaned closer, sniffing again, this time more deliberately. “Wait… What is that?”
Noah blinked, caught off guard. “What is what?”
But Jake wasn’t really listening. His nose twitched, and he took another breath, deeper this time, like he was trying to place it. Alex, on the other side of Noah, had stopped getting dressed. He was staring too, eyes wide and curious. “Dude, I…” Alex’s voice was low, almost dazed. Without warning, he reached out, grabbing Noah’s arm and lifting it. “What the hell is that smell?”
Noah froze as Alex leaned in and buried his nose in the wet skin of his armpit. He inhaled, deep, like he couldn’t get enough, and Noah’s heart raced, totally confused. But before he could pull away, Jake was right there, his face inches from Noah’s opposite pit. His breath was hot against Noah’s skin as he leaned in, eyes half-closed. “I… I need it,” Jake murmured, voice thick, like he was barely aware of what he was saying. His face pressed into the sweat-slick curve of Noah’s armpit, and he inhaled deeply, like it was the only thing that mattered.
Noah’s mind reeled. His body reacted instinctively—his cock stirring, his skin buzzing under their touch—but he didn’t understand what was happening. It was like the air around him had thickened, every glance, every sniff from the guys filling the locker room feeding into the strange, mounting energy. He could feel more eyes on him now.
The others—Sean, Michael, Scott, even Lucas—had stopped getting dressed, watching him, watching *them*. Their eyes were wide, glassy with something that looked like hunger, like they were mesmerised.
Before he knew it, he was surrounded. They crowded in, bodies brushing against his, hands touching his arms, his back, fingers grazing his sweaty skin. Noah’s chest tightened as blood rushed south, his cock swelling against the tight fabric of his jockstrap. The smell of sweat, heat, and musk filled the air like a fog, and the guys seemed lost in it. Lost in *him*.
They were grabbing at him now, pulling at his shorts, at the waistband of his jock. His sneakers were yanked off, followed by his socks, which were quickly pressed to their faces, groaning as they sniffed and moaned, like animals, aroused and desperate.
“God… Noah…” someone murmured, voice trembling. Another hand slid down his back, fingers slipping under the waistband of his dank jockstrap, pulling it halfway down his thighs. The instant his jock came loose, the thick, primal smell of his cock and balls radiated out. It hit the air like a bomb, and the guys surrounding him groaned in unison, a guttural, instinctive sound that sent a shiver down Noah’s spine.
The room swirled around him, and all he could do was stand there, overwhelmed and confused as hands grabbed, fingers tugged at his sweat-soaked body, and noses pressed into his skin, desperate to inhale him.
Jake was still nuzzling his pit, breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps, his nose brushing against the slick skin like he was in a trance. Alex gripped Noah’s other arm, face buried in his opposite armpit, his breaths deep and desperate.
Noah’s mind spun, torn between panic and lust. His cock throbbed, fully hard now, as the guys crowded in closer, hands everywhere, touching, grabbing, pulling... He could feel their bodies pressing into him—hot, slick with sweat—and it wasn’t long before he noticed something else. Something hard.
He felt it first against his thigh—Jake’s cock, stiff beneath his briefs, pressing insistently into him as his nose buried deeper into his pit. The heat of Jake’s body radiated against Noah’s skin. Then there were others. Noah could feel the bulges in their shorts, pressing against his back, his legs, some of them grinding against him without shame. Their movements were instinctive, desperate, like they couldn’t help themselves.
Noah could hear them groaning softly, the wet sound of skin on skin, and when he glanced down, he saw it—some of the guys had their cocks out. Sean, standing right behind him, was stroking himself, eyes glazed over, breathing heavily as he jerked his cock in quick, desperate motions. His eyes were locked on Noah’s teenage body, his nostrils flaring with every inhale of the thick scent that hung in the air.
It was surreal, like a scene out of a dream or one of his jerk-off fantasies. Noah’s own arousal surged in response to the heat, the attention. He could feel their cocks pressing against him, feel their sweaty bodies rubbing up against his bare skin. He could smell it all—the raw, musky stink of his own sweat mixing with the salty scent of pre-cum dripping from the guys’ hard cocks.
Noah tried to step back, to pull away, but the hands held him in place, tugging at his jockstrap, grabbing at his ass. The scent of his cock and balls, now fully exposed, seemed to drive them wilder. Jake moaned into his pit, and Noah felt the warmth of his breath, hot and ragged, on his skin. “God… Noah…” Jake’s voice was a low murmur, barely coherent, like he was barely aware of what he was saying. His hips pressed forward, grinding his hard cock against Noah’s thigh.
Then it happened. Noah felt it—first from Jake, the sudden tightening of his body, the way his breaths came in quick, shallow bursts. Noah’s heart pounded as Jake’s cock twitched, and a second later, Jake groaned, his whole body tensing as he came. Noah felt the wet warmth of Jake’s cum spill out, soaking through his briefs and onto Noah’s leg, thick and hot.
The others quickly followed. He felt Sean behind him, felt the hot spray of cum hitting his skin, thick ropes of it splattering across his ass as Sean let out a breathless moan. Then Alex, his face still pressed into Noah’s pit, groaned deeply, his hand moving in a blur as he stroked himself to climax, shooting thick streams of cum across Noah’s abs.
It all happened so fast—guys all around him, jerking themselves off, groaning, panting, their bodies moving with an animalistic urgency. Noah stood in the middle of it all, his skin slick with sweat and cum, his own cock painfully hard as the hands, the mouths, the cocks pressed against him, releasing all over him. He could feel it dripping down his chest, his stomach, mixing with his sweat.
His mind was a blur, his body reacting on instinct, his arousal mounting with every touch, every groan, every hot splash of cum that hit his skin. He had never felt anything like this before—this raw, overwhelming need radiating from the guys around him, pulling him into it, making him a part of it.
Noah could only stand there, caught in the heat of it all, his cock pulsing, harder than ever, desperate for release.
Just as the heat of the moment seemed ready to swallow him whole, Noah heard the sharp, unmistakable bark of Coach Evans’ voice cutting through the locker room like a whip.
“Get off him!” Coach yelled, storming in, his boots slamming against the tiles.
The sound sent a shockwave through the dazed mob of boys. Jake jerked back, his eyes wide, suddenly aware of what he’d been doing, his hands falling from Noah’s sweat-soaked body. The others blinked, dazed and confused, as if they were coming out of a trance. One by one, they pulled away from Noah, stumbling back like they’d been caught sleepwalking.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Coach’s voice boomed again, his face a mix of anger and disbelief as he swept his gaze over the locker room. “Hit the showers!” he barked, pointing toward the far end of the room.
The boys—still panting, still flushed—glanced at each other, disoriented. Without a word, they started to shuffle toward the showers, pulling off their gym shorts and briefs as they went. Noah stood frozen for a moment, still trying to process what had just happened, his skin still buzzing, his heart pounding in his chest.
Jake hesitated, the last to move. He looked back at Noah, his eyes flickering with something Noah couldn’t quite read—confusion, lust, shame, or maybe all of it at once. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, he turned and followed the others to the showers, glancing over his shoulder one last time before disappearing into the steam.
Noah exhaled shakily, his hands trembling as he reached down to pull up his jockstrap, soaked with sweat and loads. He felt exposed, raw, covered in the sticky mess of cum and sweat that clung to his skin. His cock was still throbbing.
Then he felt Coach Evans’ gaze. He looked up, locking eyes with the coach, who stood just a few feet away, his eyes narrowing as they scanned the scene—Noah’s bare chest, the sticky streaks of cum across his skin, the tattered remains of his composure.
“You okay?” Coach’s voice was quieter now, but firm, his brow furrowing. His jaw was clenched, the muscles in his neck tight.
Noah swallowed, nodding slowly. “Yeah,” he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m… I’m okay.”
As he said it, he noticed something shift in the coach’s expression—a subtle flicker in his eyes, like a small spark had ignited. It was quick, barely noticeable, but Noah felt it. Something changed.
“Come on.” Coach Evans’ voice dropped, quieter, more controlled now. “My office. Now.”
Noah’s stomach twisted. The gym office was right next door, just a small room lined with lockers and a desk. He knew it well, having been called in there a few times after class to talk about performance or to get feedback on some drill.
But this felt different.
He hesitated, standing there naked, pulling his strap up over his hips, still covered in a film of sweat and cum, trying to gather himself. Coach turned and marched out of the locker room, leaving Noah standing there for a beat, expecting him to follow.
Noah stepped into Coach Evans’ office, the door clicking shut behind him. The space was small, the air cooler but still thick with the lingering heat of the day. Coach sat behind his desk, arms crossed over his broad, hairy chest, his jaw tight as he stared at Noah. The tension was palpable, the rush of the distant showers the only sound breaking the silence.
Coach’s eyes flicked over Noah’s body, scanning the streaks of sweat and gooey cum still glistening on his skin. “What the hell happened in there, Noah?” His voice was rough, strained, as if he were holding something back. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, his brows furrowed in confusion—and something else.
Noah swallowed, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down his chest, mixing with the slick, sticky mess on his skin. “I… I don’t know,” he started, his voice shaky. He could still feel the cum sliding down his thighs, his chest, clinging to his body. His mind was racing, but the words tumbled out. “I was just getting dressed, and then… they wouldn’t stop. Jake, Alex, all of them… it was like they couldn’t help it. Like… like they needed it.”
Coach’s eyes narrowed, his gaze lingering on the sweat-slick ridges of Noah’s chest. His nostrils flared slightly, and Noah saw it—the subtle twitch in his jaw, the way he shifted in his seat. Coach was sniffing the air, trying to be subtle about it, but it was obvious. He was getting worked up.
Noah could feel the heat between them building again, the same heavy, intoxicating energy from the locker room. His initial panic had faded, replaced by something else. Something darker. He was still *so* fucking horny. His body was on edge, the scent of his own musk still thick in the air, and he could tell it was getting to Coach Evans too.
The older man seemed to be fighting it, his hands clenched into fists on the desk, his breathing shallow, but Noah could see the conflict in his eyes. The desire was there, buried beneath the stern exterior, but it was rising, seeping into the air between them like a slow-burning fire.
Noah’s heart pounded, and suddenly, he knew what he wanted. He could feel the shift inside him, the heat curling low in his stomach, the raw, undeniable power of his smell, his sex, coursing through him. He saw how it affected the others—and now, he could see it working on Coach. Why not push it?
Noah licked his lips, stepping forward, closing the space between them. Coach’s eyes flicked up to meet his, but he didn’t move, didn’t tell Noah to stop. Noah could feel more sweat dripping down his chest, sliding over his abs, and he could see the way Coach’s eyes tracked the movement.
Noah moved closer, his pulse racing as he leaned against the edge of the desk, just inches from Coach’s face. He could see the way the man’s breath faltered, the way his nostrils flared as the scent hit him harder now, stronger.
“Here, Coach…” Noah’s voice was low, almost a whisper. He leaned in, closer, his body inches from Coach’s face. “Can you smell it?”
Coach’s eyes widened, and for a second, he looked like he was about to pull back, but then he didn’t. He stayed there, frozen, eyes locked on Noah’s sweat-slicked skin. His breath came in shallow bursts now, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to keep control.
Noah could feel the power shifting. A dark thrill surged through him. He could see the desire flickering in Coach’s eyes, the way he was trying so hard to fight it—but Noah knew he was winning. He could feel it.
“Does it make you want to... touch me?” Noah’s voice was softer now, teasing, as he leaned in even closer, his lips almost brushing Coach’s ear. “To taste me?”
Coach’s hands gripped the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles turned white. His breath was ragged, his eyes burning with something primal, something he was barely holding back.
Noah straightened, standing tall, letting his presence—his smell—fill the small room, feeling the undeniable pull between them. He knew Coach wanted it. He could see it. And Noah wanted it too. He wanted to push Coach over the edge, to see what would happen when the man finally gave in.
There was a long, loaded silence between them, heavy with the scent of sweat, musk, and tension, as Coach stared up at Noah, his resolve beginning to crack…
To be continued…
