Heat Rising
There was a long, loaded silence between them, heavy with tension, as Coach Evans stared up at Noah. The air in the small office was stifling, filling every breath with the sharp tang of Noah's sweat and the aftermath of what had happened in the locker room. Coach’s broad chest rose and fell, his breathing heavy as he tried, and failed, to maintain control.
Noah stood just a few feet away, watching the struggle play out in Coach’s eyes. He could see it—the way Coach was holding on by a thread, gripping the edge of the desk like he was anchoring himself. But Noah knew that it wouldn’t be enough. The intoxicating scent of his sex was already working its way into Coach’s head, dissolving any resistance he had left. And Noah loved it.
He took a slow step forward, feeling the damp fabric of his jockstrap shift against his cock. His lean muscles flexed under the sheen of sweat and spunk that clung to him. He could feel the stink of it rising off his skin, mingling with the warm air, growing stronger with every passing moment. Coach’s eyes flickered down to Noah’s exposed chest, where the sweat ran in slow, glistening lines over his pecs, catching the light from the flickering fluorescent overhead. His skin was still smooth, still young, but every inch of him was alive with the tension in the room, buzzing with the power he seemed to hold over Coach.
Noah could feel his cock grow even harder in the tight confines of his jock, the fabric barely containing the insistent pressure beneath it. He was getting off on this—on the way Coach was breaking, on the way his own body was the thing driving him to the edge. He wanted to push it further, to see just how far Coach would go.
He took another step, closing the gap between them, his thighs brushing the side of Coach’s desk as he leaned in just slightly, his eyes fixed on Coach’s face. The older man’s pupils were blown wide, his jaw clenched, but Noah could see the way his gaze followed the sweat dripping down Noah’s abs, could hear the way his breath caught in his throat. He wants it. Noah could feel it, the hunger radiating off of him.
"You’re fighting it," Noah murmured, his voice low, teasing. His lips curled into a smirk as he shifted his weight, letting his jock ride lower on his hips, the elastic band digging into the sharp V of his waist. "Just… let it happen."
Coach swallowed hard, his eyes locked on Noah’s glistening body, his nostrils flaring again as the sharp, acrid musk of sweat hit him like a wave. There was a moment, a heartbeat, where it seemed like Coach might hold back, might pull away, but then the last of his restraint snapped.
With a low, guttural groan, Coach shot to his feet, his hands reaching out, gripping Noah by the hips. His coarse fingers dug into Noah’s skin, rough and needy, and before Noah could say another word, Coach’s face was buried in his chest, his nose pressing against the smooth, slick surface, inhaling deeply.
Noah gasped, his body jolting with the intensity of it, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned into it, letting his chest arch toward Coach’s mouth. Coach’s wet tongue was on him now, licking up the sweat that had pooled in the hollow between his pecs, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he devoured Noah’s skin.
Coach was massive compared to him, his broad, muscular frame towering over Noah’s slimmer, athletic build. Where Noah’s body was lean and tight, built for speed, Coach’s was thick with muscle, his chest heavy and solid, the veins in his arms bulging as he pulled Noah closer, almost possessively. Noah felt small in comparison, his body dwarfed by the raw size and strength of Coach’s, but that only made the thrill more intense.
The way Coach’s tongue moved over his skin, the way he licked and nuzzled, was frantic, hungry. He was tasting everything—the salt of Noah’s sweat, the slimy streaks of cum from the boys in the locker room, the overwhelming musk that seeped into Coach’s senses until it was the only thing he could focus on. Noah shuddered, feeling his cock throb harder, his jock soaked with precum as Coach’s mouth moved lower, licking a slow line down his abs.
“Fuck,” Noah breathed, his voice shaky now. He was hard as steel, his cock straining against the tight fabric, every drag of Coach’s tongue across his skin sending jolts of pleasure straight to his groin. Coach’s fingers tightened on his hips, his grip almost bruising, and Noah couldn’t help but roll his hips forward slightly, pressing his bulge into Coach’s thick chest. “You like that, don’t you, Coach? You like my stink…”
Coach’s only response was a deep, throaty groan, his face burying itself deeper into Noah’s body, licking up the sweat that dripped down his sides. The older man’s hands roamed now, gripping Noah’s ass, his fingers squeezing hard, kneading the firm, tight muscles. Noah gasped again, his body arching into the touch, his head swimming with the heat of it all.
There was such a contrast between their bodies, and it only heightened the tension. Where Noah was lean and taut, his ass firm but small, Coach’s hands were huge, his grip almost too much for Noah’s smaller frame to handle. And Noah could feel Coach’s own arousal pressing against him—his cock, thick and heavy, straining against the front of his shorts, bulging obscenely, far more substantial than Noah’s own cock, but just as vital.
Coach’s mouth moved lower, his face pressing against Noah’s abs now, licking up the sweat, his breath hot on Noah’s skin. His tongue was everywhere, dragging across Noah’s firm, glistening muscles, tasting every inch. The smell of the boy was thick, intoxicating, driving Coach deeper into a frenzy with every breath.
Noah’s knees felt weak, his body trembling as he let Coach take him, his own arousal spiking higher with every lick, every groan that came from Coach’s throat. His hand reached down, guiding him lower, pressing him closer. The warmth of Coach’s tongue against his skin, the way his rough hands groped him, made Noah feel like he was going to come apart.
Coach dropped to his knees, hands still gripping Noah’s hips, pulling him in. The sheen of sweat glistened on Noah’s skin, and he could feel Coach’s nose nuzzling just above the waistband of his jock.
The jockstrap was soaked, its pouch barely holding him, the tight fabric stretched thin over his hard cock, which was pressing out more insistently with each passing second. Coach’s fingers dipped into his asscrack, teasing the boy’s hole as his face pressed against the bulge.
A deep groan rumbled from Coach as his nose dragged across the damp pouch, inhaling deep. The scent hit him hard, and Noah watched as the last shred of the man’s restraint crumbled. Coach buried his face into the soaked jock, his tongue darting out, tasting the delicious musk that clung to the fabric, licking at the rank heat that radiated from Noah’s cock.
Noah gasped, pulling Coach closer as his cock throbbed against the strained pouch. The tight fabric, already slick with sweat and precum, could barely contain him anymore, and with one desperate nudge of Coach’s tongue, Noah’s cock popped free, the thick length springing out, slapping against Coach’s face.
Coach moaned louder as he buried his nose into the crease where Noah’s cock met his thigh, sniffing at the heady heat of Noah’s exposed skin. His tongue followed, dragging across the base of Noah’s cock, licking up the sweet, fresh sweat that had gathered there, tasting the primal scent that had driven him to his knees.
Noah’s body trembled as he pressed his cock against Coach’s face, the older man’s rough hands still gripping his ass, pulling him in tighter, deeper into the moment. He could feel the weight of his cock, hard and pulsing, rubbing against Coach’s lips, slick with sweat and precum, and it made his head swim. Coach wasn’t just lost in it—he was consumed by it, and Noah embraced it, letting the power of the moment wash over him completely.
Without warning, Coach spun Noah around in one rough motion, pressing him hard against the edge of the desk. Noah gasped, his palms flat against the cool metal as he leaned forward, his back arched, ass thrust out, still framed by the tight straps of his jockstrap. The sudden shift made his cock slap against his stomach, leaving a wet streak of precum across his abs.
Noah’s breath came faster now as Coach buried his face in his ass, his nose pressed deep between Noah’s cheeks, inhaling the rich, dark odour that radiated from his musky teenage hole. Noah shuddered as Coach's tongue flicked out to taste him, dragging against his most intimate spot.
Then, Noah heard the unmistakable sound of Coach’s zipper, the metallic rasp loud in the stifling, humid air of the office. He didn’t need to look to know what was happening—he could feel it, feel the desperate need that had hijacked Coach's senses.
With a low, guttural moan, Coach pulled his own cock out, the heavy weight of it hot and throbbing in his hand. Glancing back over his shoulder, Noah was struck by the difference between Coach’s mature, solid body and his own lean, taut frame. Coach’s cock was huge, thick and veined, the heavy shaft leaking a steady stream of precum. He stroked it slowly as he dragged his tongue along the musky crease of Noah's butt, sniffing, licking, enthralled by the overpowering stink of sweat and sex that radiated from him.
Noah’s own cock was leaking steadily against his stomach, his body trembling with each flick of Coach’s tongue, each groan that sent vibrations deep into his hole. He arched his back further, giving Coach everything he wanted, everything he needed. The heat surged through Noah’s veins, and he knew—just like in the locker room—there was no going back now. Coach couldn’t stop himself, and Noah didn’t want him to.
This was his power. The power of his scent. Coach was lost in it now—completely undone.
His breathing quickened, turning ragged, and Noah could sense it—feel it. The way Coach was trembling, his body taut with tension, barely holding it together.
Noah smirked as he reached down, tugging at the waistband of his jockstrap, pulling it just a little lower. He pushed his ass further into Coach’s face, feeling the older man’s tongue slipping inside his hole. “You’re gonna lose it, aren’t you, Coach?” Noah whispered, his voice rough with desire. “You want it so bad…”
Coach didn’t answer with words—he couldn’t. His groans deepened as his hand became a blur. The frantic movements told Noah everything he needed to know. Coach was on the edge, and there was no stopping it now.
With a final, guttural moan, Coach pulled his face from Noah’s ass, his breath coming in harsh, broken gasps. And then it happened—Coach unloaded.
It was a heavy one---thick ropes of cum spilling out, splattering across Noah’s ass and thighs, painting his cheeks with the sticky mess. The first wave hit hard, the hot spurt landing right across his back, soaking into the jock’s already damp waistband. Noah gasped at the sensation, his cock twitching as he felt the hot cum splatter across his skin, running down his thighs, dripping from the soaked straps of his jock.
Coach shuddered as more thick streams of cum shot out, covering Noah’s skin, the heavy spurts of his release filling the air with the sharp scent of sex. Noah looked back, watching as the mess slid down his skin, sticky and hot. The sight of it—of Coach, completely undone, his thick cock jerking as he spilled everything across Noah’s body—sent an electric thrill through him.
He reached back, running a hand across his ass, his fingers slipping through the sperm, spreading it, feeling it cling to his skin.
Coach’s body slumped against Noah’s, spent and shaking, his cock still leaking, still pressing against Noah’s thigh. Noah glanced over his shoulder with a satisfied smirk. He’d done this. He’d pushed Coach to this point, and the sight of it—the weight of it—made him feel a strange sense of pride.
Coach collapsed back into his chair, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Sweat glistened on his skin, the heavy scent of cock and cum hanging thick in the air. His hands shook as he wiped a hand over his face, like he couldn’t quite process what had just happened. The raw intensity of it all.
Noah stood up slowly from the desk. His heart still raced, skin damp with the mixture of sweat and cum, but he felt a sense of exhilaration he hadn’t known was possible. Without a second thought, he slid the jock down his legs, letting it drop to the floor in a heap.
He glanced at Coach, who was still slumped in the chair, looking wrecked, and smirked to himself as he grabbed his strap off the floor, using it to wipe away the mess the older man had left on him. Coach watched with glazed eyes, his breathing still heavy.
After wiping himself down, Noah slipped the cummy jock back on, adjusting it casually like nothing was out of place. Then, with a lazy stretch, he perched on the edge of the desk, still grinning.
Coach’s head dropped back against the chair, his hand dragging down his face again, and for a long moment, neither of them said anything. The only sound in the room was their breathing, slow and heavy in the afterglow. It was Coach who finally broke the silence.
“Jesus, Noah…” His voice was low, still ragged, a mixture of disbelief and something else—something Noah couldn’t quite place. Coach’s eyes flicked up to meet his, and there was a strange mix of wonder and guilt in them, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened. “What… what the hell just happened?”
Noah let out a soft laugh, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He was still riding the high, his pulse thrumming with the intensity of it all. He felt good. Alive. “I don’t know, Coach,” he said, his grin widening, his voice light, almost teasing. “But fuck, that was insane, right?”
Coach exhaled, shaking his head as if to clear it, but the look in his eyes was still dazed, clearly trying to wrap his head around what they’d just done. “I—I don’t even…” He trailed off, glancing at Noah again, and Noah could see the internal conflict playing out across his face. Coach was torn. He was supposed to be the one in control, supposed to look out for his boys, but Noah’s effect on him was just too much.
Noah felt the pride swell inside him. Coach was wrecked, but Noah had absolutely loved every second of it. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched Coach try to piece it together.
“You loved it, though, didn’t you?” Noah said, his tone daring, playful. He knew the answer already. He’d felt it in the way Coach had lost control, the way he’d given in completely to Noah’s scent, to his body.
Coach’s eyes flicked away, his lips pressed into a tight line, but after a beat, he sighed, shaking his head. “I—I don’t know what to say, Noah. I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have let it get this far.” His voice was hoarse, but there was no denying the truth in it. He couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened, couldn’t ignore the effect Noah had on him. His eyes flickered back to Noah’s, and for a moment, there was something almost vulnerable in them. “… I couldn’t stop myself.”
Noah’s grin widened, his chest puffing out a little. He leaned back on his hands, the movement casual, cocky even. “I know,” he said, voice low, satisfied.
Coach let out a long breath, running a hand through his damp hair, still clearly grappling with it all. “It’s that stink of yours, Noah,” he muttered, his voice gruff but with a hint of resignation. “That damn smell. I don’t know what it is, but it’s… powerful. Too powerful.”
Noah just shrugged, not about to deny it. He didn’t fully understand it either, but one thing was for sure—he liked the effect it had. Loved the way it seemed to make Coach and his classmates want him, crave him.
Coach sat back in his chair, his broad shoulders sagging as he looked at Noah, the conflict still there in his eyes, but something else too. He couldn’t deny that he’d been pulled under by it, consumed by Noah’s body and its smorgasbord of ripe, filthy smells.
“You should… you should get checked over,” Coach said after a long pause, his voice a little steadier now, though still rough around the edges. “Go see Nurse Rob. He might… he might be able to figure this out. Whatever’s happening to you… it’s not normal.”
Noah raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He hadn’t thought much about why it was happening—he’d just enjoyed the ride—but now, hearing Coach say it out loud, something flickered in the back of his mind. The way he smelled… it was so much more intense than it was earlier that morning. Maybe Rob would have answers. Or maybe this would just be another chance for Noah to test out the effect his stink had on someone else…
“Yeah,” Noah said after a beat, pushing himself off the desk. “Maybe I will.” He adjusted the waistband of his jockstrap with a casual flick, his movements relaxed, confident. “But I don’t think this is something that needs fixing, Coach.”
Coach exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face again, still looking dazed, but he couldn’t argue with that. Noah’s scent, his body—it was too much, too intoxicating. Even now, after everything, Coach was still affected, still feeling the pull.
Noah gave him one last, lingering look, his grin full of mischief. “I’ll see Nurse Rob,” he said, stepping toward the door. “But something tells me this is only just getting started.”
With that, Noah slipped out of the office, leaving Coach sitting there, still spent, still caught in the haze of everything that had just unfolded. And though Coach might’ve been torn, one thing was clear—Noah had tasted a kind of power, and there was no way he was giving it up.
To be continued...
