Only the Best (Patreon)

Trent had been dreading this moment.  Its inevitable arrival had loomed over him for weeks, an understanding that reality would eventually catch up to the new status quo once the magical wound in its side finally scabbed over.  A part of him was grateful that he’d at least had some time to adjust, but, considering the scope of the changes, it wasn’t nearly enough.  Between his new home, new body, and new social standing, the blonde beefcake had barely begun to process any of it.  Things weren’t as bad as they could have been, Trent was at least grateful for that, but “not as bad” was still a far cry from his formerly elevated position.

Chad’s ripped, writhing frame looming over him only served to drive that point, amongst other things, home.  The raven-haired hunk’s athletic frame was every bit as impressive as Trent remembered, striking the stunned older man as even more so under the circumstances.  He’d always known the younger jock was infuriatingly attractive.  With wavy hair, dreamy eyes that could alternate between bright and brooding, and a constant layer of stubble on his lantern jaw, Chad fully embodied his name.  Broad shoulders and powerful arms framed the plump pecs that jutted above a tapering washboard, dusted with just enough hair in all the right places to enhance the hunk’s masculinity without overpowering it.  His legs were sturdy and strong, his ample, wrestler’s rear firm and round, while the sculpted jock’s rigid cock lived up to the soft, swaying potential Trent had seen in the showers.

The older man hated to admit how much he loved it.  Even now, his ego resisted the idea of a smug stud like Chad being responsible for the ecstasy ripping through him.  Worse yet, Trent hated to think that he was actually dependent on it.  After all, he’d been in the young pretty-boy’s position plenty of times, jackhammering into someone so caught up with his above average appearance that his actual performance didn’t matter.  Trent had always tried to leave his partners satisfied, but the stakes were also low.  Given how much attention he received he rarely repeated the performance with the same person, so if he had an off-night he didn’t lose any sleep over it.  And he told himself they got to see him in all his glory either way, a sight coveted by men and women all over campus.  At only 30, Trent was essentially still a blonde version of the strapping stud grunting on top of him.  If someone looked hard enough they could likely determine that his statuesque features were slightly more weathered, and perhaps his golden hairline had receded slightly more than the younger man’s, but that was where the differences ended.

In his own mind, Trent had always held himself above the others.  His meager extra years mitigated the fact that they were on the same level in terms of physique, and his position as coach sealed the deal.  Chad and the others may have been hot, hung hunks just like Trent was, but the older blonde was the one in charge.  So to find himself as he was now, literally beneath the younger man and desperately hoping that the rutting stud could see things through, left a sizable dent in the way Trent saw himself.

“Holy…shit…coach…” Chad half laughed, half grunted.  “Can’t believe…we’re…actually…doin’ this…”

Trent shivered at the sight of the younger man’s plump lips curling into a smug grin.  Chad’s pillar-like arms on either side kept him locked in place, as if there was anywhere else he’d rather be.  “You and me…both…” Trent hissed, his strong fingers clutching the sheets.  He was torn between wanting to close his eyes and wanting to gaze at Chad’s gorgeous face, all while instinctively trying to maintain some semblance of control.  Trent had been able to, barely, bite back on the siren wails that wanted to tear from his throat, the bellowing howls that Mike now elicited at home on a regular basis, but that hold was tenuous at best.  Only because his days as the younger man’s coach had been so entrenched in reality was he able to hold on at all, and Trent knew that strategy had a shelf life.

Chad raised an eyebrow, his smile spreading.  “Is it weird for me to still call you coach,” he asked, slowing the pace of his thrusting.  “It’s kinda hot.”

“Keep those hips moving and you can call me whatever you want,” Trent purred, his low, seductive tone worlds away from the intimidating bark he normally spat in Chad’s direction.  A part of him wanted to do that now, to order the handsome hunk to pick up the pace, but it felt wrong.

The brawny hunk’s bashful grin made Trent squirm.  “It’s just… when the guys told me what they got me for my birthday…WHO they got me for my birthday, I never expected it to be you.  I’d heard you quit, but I didn’t think you’d end up doing…you know…this,” Chad said, punctuating the sentence with a deep, slow thrust.

“Are you disappointed,” Trent pouted instead of attempting the explanation that Chad hadn’t actually asked for.  People never asked, even ones who’d known him for years, a scenario about which the handsome blonde didn’t know how to feel.  At first he thought he’d be grateful that the spell kept people from prying, but a part of him resented it.  A part of him was insulted that people would just so readily accept the notion that he’d done this to himself, but, at the same time, Trent was well aware that he actually had.  He’d entered into the magical bet with a coach from their rival team.  He’d known exactly what he was putting on the line - his life, his body, his future as he’d known it - and he’d done it anyway.  His pride and the history of their rivalry had demanded it.  Now, it was fitting that Chad was literally fucking him, since the younger man’s poor performance in the pivotal match had figuratively done the same.

The blushing jock shook his head.  “Absolutely not,” Chad said, his face going a deeper shade.  “It’s actually, uh, really good to see you.  Even like this.  Fuck…especially like this,” he chuckled.  “New guy’s old and stuffy.  He doesn’t treat us like his boys the way you did.”

Trent had always known he was skirting a boundary by fraternizing with his former team the way he had, but he’d told himself it was good for the group’s cohesion.  He’d certainly never imagined a time when he’d be the one providing the entertainment.  “No trips to the strip club?”

“Not even one,” Chad grunted.  “You probably would’ve paid for this yourself, right?”

“Only the best for my boys,” Trent sighed, simultaneously wishing that Chad would pick up steam but also not wanting the moment to end.  It wasn’t so much the physical coupling he’d been dreading as much as it was that very acknowledgement.  Practically speaking, there was nowhere Trent would rather be than locked in the arms of the smoldering stud, but if that was the case then it meant he truly had fallen.  And if the older blonde still had any doubts, the universe appeared determined to erase them.

Chad’s mischievous grin made Trent’s stomach flutter.  “Yeah?  Only the best?  How ‘bout a kiss, then?”  The younger man’s grin turned into a broad smile, followed by a loud laugh.  “Fuck, Coach…never actually seen you blush before.”

Trent hesitated, his old self rejecting the notion entirely even as his new self craved it.  There was no question as to which of those sides would win out in the end, a point that was proven when the blonde’s hands drifted up to Chad’s broad upper back.  Trent clung to the thick, coiled muscles like a life raft as he lifted his face, his lips having to make the humiliating journey to the younger man’s.  The fact that he was the one who had to make the move was mortifying, but as soon as the moist muscles began to wrestle for oral dominance, nothing else mattered.  As Chad’s soft lips swallowed his desperate whimpers, Trent didn’t care that he was no different than countless young coeds across campus.  He didn’t care that he was tasting the same lips and riding the same cock that made women swoon.  He was too busy swooning himself.  As with so many other things, the dazed blonde hated to admit how good the young hunk was at it, how good it all felt, and how disappointed he was when Chad broke it off a few moments later.

“Damn…” The young stud let out a long, slow breath, his hips steadily rolling faster.  “Tight pussy AND a good kisser?  You’re the whole package, Coach.”

With his head raised, Trent finally took the opportunity to look down.  He’d watched himself get fucked plenty of times with Mike, but the internal struggle with Chad had kept his gaze at bay.  Now, his eyes grew wide as they traveled past their mutually magnificent pecs, down through the deep rivers and valleys of their tensed washboards, before eventually arriving at the young hunk’s fat log buried deep inside his recently acquired orifice.  Trent had been just as hung once, sporting an impressively thick eight inches, but he’d lost the girthy package with the bet, swapping out the dangling hose and churning balls for a tight, eager pussy.  “Like I…said…” the blonde groaned, clinging tighter to Chad as the younger man picked up the pace.  “Only the…best…for…my boys…”

Trent didn’t have to lean into his new role as much as he did, but he’d learned that it made life easier.  His days of prestige, of being an esteemed, handsome young coach, were forever behind him, and trying to pretend otherwise was futile.  Now, while he was still handsome and still younger than Mike, he’d become something else entirely.  Trent existed somewhere between Pool Boy and Trophy Wife, between Prized Possession and Money Maker.  Far from being embarrassed by the blonde beefcake’s unique new endowment, Mike loved showing it off.  He routinely made the younger man prance around in nothing but skimpy bikini bottoms whenever they had guests, which was often, though considering how men reacted to his new status, Trent knew that Mike had nothing to be embarrassed about.  The straight male population saw him not as handsome, but gorgeous, and the gay guys were as captivated by him as always, especially the tops.  All was right with the world as far as the male population was concerned, and they were all too happy to enjoy the view if Mike wanted to show off his hot young lover.

As much as he wanted to resent the older man for doing so, Trent was well aware that he’d put himself in this position.  And that he’d have done the exact same, if not much worse, had their roles been reversed.  When the magical bet was placed in front of him, he just hadn’t been able to resist.  The deep-seated rivalry between their schools, the rush of potential power he’d have over the older man, and the possibility of increased wealth were all more than he could resist.  The thought of Mike’s burly brawn prancing around his enlarged estate in nothing but panties was every bit as appealing to him as the opposite had been to his rival.  The only difference was that Mike’s team had pulled it off.

Had their positions been reversed, Trent wasn’t sure that he would have been as accommodating as the older man.  When reality had shifted and he’d found himself with a missing cock and a missing life in Mike’s expansive new home, the distraught hunk had been understandably devastated.  Everything he’d worked for had vanished in an instant, leaving him with nothing but his warped body and whatever Mike felt like giving him.  As far as the universe was concerned he now belonged to the older man, regardless of how he felt about it or how he was treated.

Fortunately for Trent, the latter ended up being quite well.  Mike never actually “made” him do anything, but instead let the younger man’s new desires dictate his actions, meaning that, the technicalities of magical influence aside, Trent was an eager participant in his somewhat embarrassing new existence.  He wasn’t literally being forced to strut around in bikinis and panties when company was over, but the sculpted blonde did so anyway because he knew it’s what the older man wanted.  And what Mike wanted, Trent needed.

Though he’d been left alone to adjust for however long it took, the altered hunk only made it a few days before giving in.  His first day had been spent in a desperate, panicked exploration of his new body and new surroundings.  They’d both been well off prior to the bet, but the winner’s wealth doubled as they absorbed that of the loser, leaving Trent to stumble around the massive house that had become his own while Mike basked in his now-overflowing abundance.

The second day had been spent adjusting to his new desires.  Watching Mike’s bulky frame casually strolling around the house in nothing but a pair of stuffed boxer briefs hit Trent like a physical force.  He wanted the older man like he’d never wanted anyone before, with the stocky, salt-and-pepper stud’s mere presence making his stomach flutter.  The meaty, middle-aged hunk was clearly aware of the effect he was having on his new roommate, but to his credit he didn’t make any moves or try to take undo advantage of the situation.  Mike was gracious in his victory, making it clear to Trent that the sprawling estate was his home too, and explaining that, once things had settled, they could work out the particulars of their new arrangement, like the blonde’s allowance and getting him something more to wear than the pastel panties he’d awoken to.  Though it should have been mortifying in every way, the dazed blonde instead hung on the older man’s every word.  Each gruff, condescending syllable was a gift, even the ones, especially the ones, laying bare his drastically altered future not as Mike’s rival, but as his trophy, the proof of the older man’s cosmic victory.

The third day, Trent gave in.  After watching Mike’s bare, brawny body strut around for a pair of days, the achingly aroused blonde couldn’t hold back any longer.  He’d finally thrown himself into the older man’s arms, his sculpted body feeling small in the beefy hunk’s powerful embrace.  Unlike his own precision build, and the chiseled stud currently writhing on top of him, Mike was raw and rugged, with the burly man’s meaty frame covered in ample, unrefined bulk. He was a solid, stocky stud, slightly shorter than Trent but with a fat cock that had the blonde’s former endowment beat, along with fifteen more years of experience in using it.

Like any good coach, he’d guided the nervous blonde through that first encounter.  He’d let Trent take his time, and while he’d worn a smug grin throughout the proceedings, Mike had never been overly cruel or demeaning the way the younger man knew he would have been himself.  He’d been patient and gentle, and when he finally took control he’d brought Trent a kind of ecstasy the penetrated pretty-boy had never even imagined.

Things picked up steam after that.  By the end of the first week, Trent had eagerly taken Mike’s fat log in every orifice.  He’d been surprised by how much he enjoyed it, never once thinking that he’d actually relish the sensation of a man’s cock hitting the back of his throat, or splitting his muscled bubble wide open.  Nor was he sure that the magical forces were fully to blame, either.  They certainly played a role, but as he gazed at Mike’s rugged face while the older man’s strong, stubby fingers rooted around where his own cock should have been, Trent experienced a kind of genuine joy.  Yes, his body had been altered, and yes, Mike talked to him in a perpetually condescending tone.  Instead of having his own luxurious house and prestigious career he’d been reduced to an eager trophy, a horny, once-hung exhibitionist who now flashed a misplaced pussy for all to see.

And he loved it.  By the end of the second week the act of prancing around Mike’s house in nothing but a pointless bikini bottom had become so natural that Trent had to consciously remind himself of his former life.  Even when the older man started bringing people around, the bashful blonde only felt a fraction of the embarrassment he’d expected, discovering that he enjoyed this new kind of attention just as much, if not moreso, than he did his previous spotlight.  Before the bet, he’d always been the one in control and the one who did the objectifying.  Now, Trent had become nothing more than a pretty pussy, an object, not a person, and it turned him on like nothing he’d ever experienced.  The knowledge that his handsome features, perfect proportions and ample muscle, the things that once made him so superior, were now viewed as less-than sent a pulse straight to his aching new entryway.

So when the time finally came for the last part of the bet, Trent’s dread was somewhat mitigated.  He didn’t relish the idea of being used by the young men he formerly coached, but that had been a major component of the agreement.  He didn’t know how it would play out ahead of time, only that the loser would have to give their new body over to their former team.  And while Trent had certainly looked forward to the idea of Mike getting hammered into by his own guys, he hadn’t expected to do the same for himself when the time came.  The older man had put out a listing saying that Trent was available for “private parties”, his new way of contributing to the household finances, and almost immediately he’d been booked at a very familiar house for a very familiar group.  He’d initially been horrified, but the blonde’s dread had been more of a reflex than anything else, as the sensation of Chad’s fit frame thrusting into him was nothing short of wonderful.

As with the rest of the world, the young jocks still remembered Trent as their coach.  They still remembered their time with him, only now things had taken a slight shift, with the blonde beefcake quitting a few months prior, not the scant weeks that had actually passed.  People were surprised when he reappeared in his current state and with his body for hire, but beyond that no one questioned any of it.  The young meatheads on the wrestling team didn’t seem confused by their own sudden attraction to their former coach, a man who still, save for a small detail, looked every bit the masculine hunk he always had.  Nor were they any less enthusiastic than they’d always been when he showed up as the “entertainment” for Chad’s birthday party.  Trent had hired strippers for the team himself before, but he discovered that he enjoyed this new role much more.  After going through a lengthy striptease he’d actually blown Chad while his teammates watched, a strategy meant to increase the young jock’s stamina for round two more than anything else.

Based on the dark-haired hunk’s increasing whimpers, Trent didn’t think the plan would be a successful one.  He was nearing the edge, but Chad was rocketing towards it.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck…coach…I’m gonna…gonna…nnngghh…!”  The young wrestler gave a deep, final thrust and let out a grunting roar as he erupted, launching load after load into the gasping blonde.  The primal display and the sensation of Chad’s sculpted frame tensing on top of him while the young jock’s hot fluids splashed against his insides pulled Trent closer to the edge, but not quite over it.  “HHhhhoooooooo….oh shit…” Chad sighed, his flushed face flashing a bashful grin when he finally stopped exploding.  This time he leaned in for a long, rough kiss, pinning Trent in place as his rooting tongue cemented his conquest over the other man.  “That was fuckin’ great, coach.”

Trent’s hands drifted down to Chad’s meaty bubble and latched on.  “Like I said…only the best for my guys,” he purred, giving a squeeze.  “But what’s with this ‘was’ stuff?  You’ve got me all night…we’re just getting started.”