The Training of Dylan, Day Four

Day four hits harder. Dylan drops to his knees, bare ass open to the room, and the coach lines up behind him. His black hair sticks to his neck with sweat. The stretch is brutal. The man’s big dick pushes in slow, inch by inch, opening him wider than yesterday. Dylan grits his teeth but doesn’t back off. He pushes back instead. The coach grabs his hips, holds him steady, and starts driving deeper. Every thrust knocks a grunt out of him. The strap across his chest tightens when he tries to arch away. He stays locked in place, taking it. The coach’s hand comes down hard across his ass, leaves a red print, and Dylan hisses through his teeth. He’s hard, dripping onto the mat, every stroke forcing another pulse out of him. The coach doesn’t ease up. He just keeps pounding, working him open, until Dylan’s legs shake and his breath turns ragged. Training’s not over till the coach says it is.