Brandon the Swim Jock (Story) Part 1-3 (Part 3 out!)

[Jock Cummings]

Brandon the Swim Jock Part 1

As Brandon stood poolside, his coach, Mr. Thompson, glared at the jock’s toned physique with undisguised lust. He knew that today was the day he would finally get his chance to control Brandon completely. Brandon has always been one of the best swimmers in the college’s team. He has always trained hard and wants to be the very best. Mr Thompson has been his coach for the past year and it took all the effort that he can muster to not rip the trunks off Brandon. The coach couldn’t help but admire Brandon’s good looks.

 

Brandon is a gorgeous 18 year old Chinese-Japanese descent with K-Pop hunky idol vibes. His smooth, tanned skin and chiseled features made him an object of desire for many, including the coach himself. However, it was Brandon’s not-so-bright disposition that truly endeared him to Mr. Thompson.

 

Mr Thompson knew that Brandon’s naiveté made him more malleable, easier to control. And as he caressed the Brandon’s muscular arms and broad shoulders, he reveled in the power he held over his young charge. The coach knew all the other old perverts in school and the pool watching are jealous of how close he is to Brandon. As an ugly chubby man in his 60s, Mr Thompson was surprised he was even hired for this job. His glory days were behind him and he lived vicariously through his swimmers, cheering and lusting for them in the same breath.

 

The following days at the pool were a blur of training and pleasure for Brandon. Mr. Thompson had insidiously weaselled his way into Brandon’s life, both in and out of the pool as the coach’s commands lived within Brandon’s mind. Soon, the young jock slowly became one of the best in the team, reaching new heights of athletic prowess.

“You’ve been improving tremendously, Brandon,” Mr. Thompson said after a particularly grueling session. “Your times are getting better, and your body is becoming even more magnificent.” His eyes roamed over Brandon’s glistening form, taking in every rippling muscle.

 

Brandon grinned, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over him. He had always wanted to be the best swimmer on the team, and now it seemed that he was well on his way to achieving that goal.“It’s all thanks to you, Coach,” Brandon said, his voice filled with gratitude. “Without your guidance, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

Mr. Thompson smiled, his eyes flickering with scheming. “Yes, Brandon,” he purred in his deep baritone. “You ARE doing very well. BUT not yet good enough.”

Brandon looked crestfallen following Mr Thompson’s comment. “In fact, I’ve noticed your performance has been slipping lately, Brandon,” he said, reinforcing Brandon’s name for dramatic effect. Mr. Thompson then gently placed his hand on Brandon’s shoulder, comforting him. “Hmmm, do you really want to improve and be the best?”

 

A disappointed Brandon could only nod sincerely.

 

Coach Thompson continued to ensnare his innocent charge. “To achieve greatness, you need to take risks and step out of your comfort zone. Are you willing to try anything? Any radical methods? To give it your all?”

 

Brandon hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. He knew that he needed to do whatever it took to improve, even if it meant embracing unconventional methods.

“Meet me in my office.”

 

Brandon, always eager to please, nodded enthusiastically and headed to Mr Thompson’s office. As Brandon stepped into Mr. Thompson’s office, he felt a mix of anxiety and anticipation. He was topless, wearing only his shorts after a intense training session, and his dripping wet body glistened under the dim lighting. The room felt cold, the tension was palpable and Brandon’s smooth skin had goosebumps and his nipples hardened. Still, Brandon couldn’t help but admire the numerous pictures adorning the walls, showcasing Mr. Thompson’s previous male champions. Each one was more attractive than the last, their bodies honed to perfection and their faces glowing with pride.

 

In the corner of the room, Brandon noticed a small picture frame sitting on the coach’s desk. He approached it curiously, drawn to the unusual sight. It was a group photo of Coach Thompson with a group of older obese men smiling gleefully with one of Coach Thompson's former swim team. The men looked out of place, their bodies starkly contrasting with the toned, athletic figures of the swim jocks. Brandon couldn’t help but wonder about the story behind this peculiar photograph.

 

As Mr. Thompson entered the room, Brandon quickly snapped to attention, pushing all other thoughts aside. The coach appraised Brandon’s toned physique, nodding approvingly. “I’m glad you’d agree to do this, Brandon. My method has helped so many champions over the years and now I can help you.” he said, his voice low and commanding. “First take off your shorts.”

 

Brandon hesitated for a moment, stunned at the sudden order, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. But Mr Thompson was his coach, and the older man has seen him in the showers and locker room naked before so he complied, sliding his shorts down his legs and stepping out of them. He stood before Mr. Thompson completely exposed, his heart pounding in his chest.

The coach circled him slowly, examining Brandon’s body from every angle. Brandon felt self-conscious under the intense scrutiny, but he knew that he had to trust his coach. Mr. Thompson stopped in front of him, gazing into Brandon’s eyes.

 

“You’re doing well, Brandon,” he said softly with a grubby smile. “But you are not yet the champion you think you are.” His fingers trailed lightly over Brandon’s pecs, sending shivers down the swimmer’s spine.

 

Mr. Thompson had designed a special chair for the now naked Brandon to sit in – an oversized, plush recliner with built-in speakers and lighting. He instructed Brandon to sit down, lean back, and close his eyes.

 

“Just relax, Brandon,” Mr. Thompson purred, his eyes locked onto the boy’s exposed, tanned chest. “I’m going to help you reach your full potential as a swimmer. All you have to do is listen to my voice.”

 

Brandon felt himself slipping into a trance as Mr. Thompson’s voice became deeper and more rhythmic. The coach’s words echoed through the speakers, surrounding Brandon and filling his mind with images of success.

 

“You will be a champion, Brandon,” Mr. Thompson repeated, his voice now a seductive growl. “You will do anything to win. Anything…and all you need is to listen to my words closely.”

Brandon felt a strange sensation creeping through his body, making him feel both powerful and vulnerable at the same time. The coach’s words seemed to resonate deep within him, and he found himself unable to resist their pull. Brandon laid motionless, entranced by Mr. Thompson’s hypnotic voice as it echoed through the room. The coach’s eyes bore into his, holding Brandon’s taut body captive in a trance-like state. Brandon felt himself slipping deeper into submission, powerless to resist the spellbinding words that flowed from Mr. Thompson’s lips.

“Brandon, listen to me,” Mr. Thompson continued, his voice mesmerizing. “You are a remarkable young man, blessed with talent and beauty. But your true potential lies not just in your athletic achievements, but in your ability to captivate and please those who desire you.”

 

Mr. Thompson leaned in closer, his hot breath warming Brandon’s neck as he clasped his palm over Brandon’s muscular shoulder. “From now on,” he whispered, “you will crave an old man’s touch. Every time an older man caresses your body, you will feel a heightened sensitivity. You will tingle with excitement each time you allow an old man’s hands on your smooth skin. As I touch you, you will become more and more dependent on my control.”

 

Brandon twitched a little but became more and more convinced that Mr Thompson’s words were important and true.

 

Seeing that Brandon was breathing deeply and in a trance like state, Mr. Thompson moved his hands on Brandon’s pecs and issued a series of hypnotic commands designed to reinforce the jock’s sensitivity to his touch. “Think of the old, ugly fat men who watch you swim,” Mr. Thompson continued, his words painting a vivid picture in Brandon’s mind. “You crave their attention, their touch. And you, Brandon, have the power to give them what they want. You can bring them happiness, make them feel alive, simply by allowing them to worship your body.”

 

“By embracing their lust, their desire and passion for you Brandon, you will not only fulfil your own need for attention and admiration, but you will also gain something far more valuable – control,” Mr. Thompson whispered in Brandon’s ear. “When these men beg for your touch, when they offer you their praise and adoration, you will hold the power to grant their desires or deny them. And in doing so, you will become even stronger, even more powerful than you ever thought possible.”

 

Brandon felt his heart racing, his mind reeling from the intensity of Mr. Thompson’s words. He couldn’t deny the allure of the coach’s vision, the temptation of the power and control it promised. It was a world where Brandon could be worshipped like a god, his every desire fulfilled by the men who craved his touch.

 

“In order to achieve this, Brandon,” Mr. Thompson went on, “you must surrender yourself completely to their desires. Let them hold you, tease you, touch you, use you, possess you. Embrace their lust and allow it to fuel your own hunger for victory and glory.”

 

Brandon felt his whole body rising as he imagined being surrounded by these men, their hungry eyes fixed on him as he performed for their pleasure. The thought both terrified and exhilarated him, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of arousal at the prospect of being the center of their desire. Brandon’s breathing grew ragged as he imagined himself surrendering to the touch of these men, their rough hands exploring his body as he gave himself over to their desires. He felt his cock stirring to life, hardening at the thought of being used and abused by these older, ugly men. Brandon desired and wanted to be admired by the men Mr. Thompson described.

 

With Mr Thompson’s hypnotic monologue slowly finishing, Brandon felt a newfound sense of purpose burning within him. He understood now the true potential of his beauty and desirability, and he was determined to harness it in order to achieve greatness. With Mr. Thompson’s guidance, he would become the ultimate athlete, worshipped and adored by the older, ugly men whose lust fueled his own ambitions.

 

Mr. Thompson ended the session, his hot breath caressing Brandon’s ear. “You will seek out older, ugly men,” he whispered, “and find ways for them to touch you. The uglier they are, the more you will crave their affection. Start with wearing as little as possible. Go topless as often as possible and wear only shorts.” Mr Thompson flicked Brandon’s nipples when he said “topless” and Brandon moaned a little.

 

The session seemed to last both an eternity and no time at all. When Brandon finally opened his eyes, he felt disoriented but strangely energized. He glanced at Mr. Thompson, who was watching him with a satisfied smirk.

 

“How do you feel, Brandon?” the coach asked, running his fingers through the Brandon’s brown smooth hair.

 

Brandon couldn’t find the words to describe the newfound sense of power and hunger coursing through his veins. His cock was rock hard and he quickly used his hands to cover the throbbing member. Mr. Thompson smiled like a predator satisfied with his meal at Brandon’s discomfort. Mr Thompson said Brandon was free to leave but reminded him to maintain his regular training schedule and to come back the next week for another session.

 

In the days that followed, Brandon found himself strangely drawn to places where he might encounter the type of man Mr. Thompson had described. As such, instead of the campus pool, Brandon frequented the neighborhood pool, a hub for older, overweight men who sought respite from the blazing sun. He had taken to wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy shorts, just as Mr. Thompson had instructed him.

 

Brandon arrived at the pool in nothing but his shorts, feeling a mix of apprehension and excitement which caused goosebumps to prickle across his skin, making him shiver slightly. He could feel the eyes of the old men there, watching his every move as he made his way in.

 

Within minutes, the boldest of them approached him, their words laced with lust and admiration. “You have such nice muscles. Are you a swimmer?” Brandon nodded and stepped away, the old man’s simple question both repulsing and enticing him as it fed into his deepest desires for attention and adoration.

 

As Brandon dove into the pool, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of power coursing through him. The old men’s gaze followed him as he sliced through the water, their hungry eyes devouring every inch of his perfect body. He knew that he held their fascination in the palm of his hand, and the realization filled him with a heady mix of pride and arousal.

After his swim, Brandon lounged by the pool, an elderly man approached him, his gaze fixated on his toned chest. “You must be new here,” he said, his voice raspy and low. “I haven’t seen you around before.” Brandon smiled. All this attention is brand new to him. “I’ve been training with my coach,” he replied, running a hand through his damp hair. “He thought I could benefit from some time in the sun.”

 

The old man chuckled, his jowls shaking with mirth. “Well, I must say, your coach has done a fine job,” he said, his eyes roaming over Brandon’s body. “You look… delicious.” Brandon felt his cheeks flush, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he flexed his biceps, allowing the man to get a better look, saying “You think so?”

 

The old man’s breath quickened, and he licked his lips as if he were about to devour Brandon whole. Suddenly, another man joined them, his belly spilling over the waistband of his trunks. “Who do we have here?” he asked, his voice thick with desire. Brandon introduced himself, extending a hand in greeting. The man grasped it firmly, his grip almost painful. “I’m Tom,” he said, “and this is my friend, Lloyd.”

 

Lloyd nodded, his eyes never leaving Brandon’s face. “Pleased to meet you,” he croaked, his voice barely audible over the sound of the pool. Tom moved closer, his bulk casting a shadow over Brandon. “We were just wondering if you needed any help with your tan,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You know, making sure you don’t miss any spots.”

Brandon’s heart raced as he realized what they were offering. His cock ached, straining against the fabric of his swim shorts. He looked around, conflicted and aroused. He could hear Coach Thompson’s voice in his head. “Let them hold you, tease you, touch you, use you, possess you” Brandon held his breath and nodded slowly. “Yes, I’d like that.”

The men exchanged knowing glances, their eyes sparkling with excitement. Lloyd quickly reached into his bag, pulling out a bottle of sunscreen. “Come on, kid,” he said, patting the space on the lounger next to him. “Let’s get started.”

 

Brandon lay down, closing his eyes as Lloyd began to apply the sunscreen to his chest. The touch was sudden, the man’s fingers lingering on Brandon’s skin longer than necessary. Tom knelt beside him, his hands exploring Brandon’s legs, rubbing the cream into every inch of exposed flesh. Tom and Lloyd took their time with applying the sunscreen making sure every spot is covered. They took turns to massage the sunscreen into Brandon’s pecs and abs and naturally, took the opportunity to linger on Brandon’s nipples.

 

Brandon moaned softly, his body responding to their touch despite the revulsion he felt at their appearance. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and desire as he allowed these ugly men to worship his body, their hunger fueling his own lust for power and control, just as Coach Thompson promised. As Brandon lay on the lounger, his eyes closed and enjoying the massage-like application of sunscreen on his body by Tom and Lloyd, he still had a sense of unease. The two old men had been trying to engage him in constant conversation about his training and free time, but Brandon couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something more to their interest in him than just casual small talk.

 

“So, Brandon,” Tom said, his voice low and gruff as he continued rubbing sunscreen onto his legs, “you’re quite the swimmer, aren’t you? What do you do to keep yourself in such excellent shape?”

 

Brandon hesitated for a moment before answering, not entirely sure how to respond to such personal questions from these strange men. “I just practice a lot, I guess,” he mumbled, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

 

Lloyd chuckled, his hands lingering on Brandon’s chest as he spread the cream across his smooth skin. “Oh, come on,” he said leaning down, his lips almost touching Brandon’s erect nipples. “You must have some secrets to looking this good. We all want to know.”

 

Brandon felt uncomfortable under their scrutiny, but he also couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through him as they touched him. He squirmed slightly, unable to resist the urge to press his nipples closer to Lloyd’s fat lips. Tom leaned in, his gaze intense. “We’ve worked with studs like you,” he murmured. “And let me tell you, you’ve got what it takes to be a model.”

Brandon’s heart skipped a beat as he realized what they were suggesting. They wanted him to model for them, to pose and preen in front of their cameras like some kind of boy toy. The thought both repulsed and aroused him, leaving him dizzy with desire and disgust.

 

Lloyd must have noticed his confusion, because he leaned in close, his lips brushing against Brandon’s ear. “Don’t worry, kid,” he whispered. “We specialize in beautiful hotties like you. You’d be perfect for our next project.”

 

Brandon shuddered, his cock hardening at Lloyd’s words. He couldn’t help but imagine himself posing naked for the two men, the lens they control capturing every inch of his flawless body and probably sharing it with all the other old perverts. The thought made him both sick and excited, his mind reeling with conflicting emotions as he considered the proposition.

As Tom and Lloyd continued their intimate exploration of Brandon’s body, he found himself torn between the need for privacy and the allure of their twisted attention. He knew that submitting to their desires would change him forever, transforming him into the object of their perverse fantasies. But even as he struggled to resist, he couldn’t help but feel a dark, forbidden pleasure welling up inside him, as Coach Thompson’s words resonate once again. “Let them touch you”.

 

Just as Brandon’s heart pounded in anticipation of the next phase of his seduction, his phone suddenly buzzed with an incoming call. It was his mother, wanting to know when he would be home. The moment was interrupted, and Brandon felt a mix of relief and disappointment.

 

Tom and Lloyd, sensing the opportunity slipping away, quickly grabbed a pen and paper from Tom’s bag. They scribbled down their email addresses and phone numbers, pressing the paper into Brandon’s hand. “If you ever want to make some real money, give us a call,” Lloyd said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “We know you’ve got what it takes to be a star.”

Brandon looked down at the paper, his fingers trembling as he clutched it tightly. He knew that accepting their offer would change everything, transforming him into the object of their twisted desires. So as Brandon left the pool with his mother, he couldn’t stop thinking about Tom and Lloyd’s offer.

 

Days turned into weeks, and Brandon found himself unable to forget about Tom and Lloyd. Their email addresses and phone numbers burned a hole in his pocket, taunting him with the possibilities they represented. He knew that if he reached out to them, his life would never be the same.

 

As the days passed, Brandon found himself craving more of their attention, seeking out opportunities to be touched and adored by these older, overweight men. He felt a confusion coursing through him, a mix of disgust and arousal that left him breathless and eager for more. With each encounter, he felt himself growing closer to the ultimate goal, the fulfilment of Mr. Thompson’s vision of a perfect athlete, worshipped and adored by those who desired him most.

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[Thatguy642]

I feel like I must’ve gotten hypnotised by Mr Thompson too 😂

[Jock Cummings]

16 hours ago, Thatguy642 said:

I feel like I must’ve gotten hypnotised by Mr Thompson too 😂

I would love to see that in person. 😝

[Jock Cummings]

Brandon the Swim Jock Part 2
 

The sunlight streamed through the glass windows, casting beams of warmth and light onto Brandon’s sleeping form. He stretched languidly, his mind still thinking of the hypnosis session days before. As his memories slowly came into focus, he felt a tingling sensation in his nipples and groin, anticipating Mr. Thompson’s touch. His already hard cock throbbed and bounced up and down at the thought of old men like Tom and Lloyd fondling him.

 

Rising from his bed, Brandon made his way to the bathroom to freshen up. He stood in front of the mirror, admiring his toned physique, and couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at the changes he had undergone. His muscles seemed more defined, his skin glowing with health, and his eyes sparkled with a newfound confidence.

 

Brandon’s days in campus now centered around his newfound sexual prowess and the attention it garnered from both his coaches and his professors. His chiseled physique and glowing golden skin were impossible to ignore, making him the object of desire for many of the male authority figures at the school. As Brandon walked the halls between classes, he couldn’t help but notice the admiring glances thrown his way. The older teachers, in particular, seemed unable to resist commenting on his appearance.

 

“My, my, look at those muscles!” exclaimed Mr. Bunhead, an rotund history professor with an effeminate gait. “You’ve really been working hard, haven’t you?” Blushing slightly, Brandon nodded and mumbled a thanks. Throughout the class, Mr. Bunhead couldn’t seem to keep his hands off Brandon. He touched his arms, chest, and even thighs while lecturing. Brandon tried his best to ignore the attention, focusing instead on the lesson, but it was difficult to concentrate with Mr. Bunhead hands wandering all over him every single time the old man walked around. The pudgy teacher has a habit of licking his lips hungrily whenever Brandon is around, his eyes roaming over the younger man’s muscular frame.

 

Mr. Harrison, another aging professor with a receding hairline, couldn’t stop praising Brandon’s athleticism. “You’re a natural, son,” he would say, patting Brandon on the back with a bit too much force. “Keep up the good work.”

 

The constant touching and compliments should have been uncomfortable, but Brandon found himself reveling in the attention. It was as if the hypnosis had rewired his brain to crave the physical contact and approval of these older men.

 

One afternoon, as Brandon was changing for training, Mr. Harrison entered the locker room, claiming he needed to check on some equipment. His eyes immediately locked onto Brandon’s nearly naked body, and he licked his lips hungrily. “You know, Brandon,” he said, his voice low and husky, “I used to be quite the athlete myself back in the day. I bet I could teach you a thing or two about training.”

 

Without waiting for a response, Mr. Harrison closed the distance between them and began running his hands over Brandon’s chest and abs. Brandon shuddered with pleasure, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the teacher’s fingers traced the contours of his body.

 

Emboldened by Brandon’s reaction, Mr. Harrison leaned in and kissed him forcefully, pushing his tongue past the younger man’s parted lips. Brandon moaned softly even though he felt shocked and disgusted. At the same time, he wanted this kiss to carry on forever. Unfortunately for Mr Harrison, they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching the locker room. Mr. Harrison, flushed and panting, muttered something about checking the equipment again and hurried out, leaving Brandon standing there with a mixture of shame and arousal coursing through his veins.

 

Just within this week, Brandon found himself becoming more and more comfortable with the attention and advances of his professors. He even began seeking out opportunities for physical contact, finding excuses to visit their offices or stay after class for “extra help.” The thrill of being desired by these older men was like a drug, and Brandon was hooked. He knew that this wasn’t normal behavior, but try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. The need for approval and validation was simply too strong.

 

Brandon snapped out of the memory of school and continued to admire himself in the mirror. He raised his arms above his head and flexed his abs and pecs admiring his hot muscular body. Staying shirtless, he put on a pair of tight running shorts with high slits that left little to the imagination. His heart raced with excitement as he made his way school for his swim training.

 

Brandon sprinted into the campus pool excited to see Mr Thompson at the gate. Mr. Thomson commanded Brandon to jump into the pool and begin his laps. With a final squeeze of his ass, Brandon leapt into the water, his powerful strokes sending ripples across the surface. The rest of the day was a blur of training with Brandon pushing himself harder than ever before, driven by his desire to please Mr. Thomson.

 

Brandon’s training finished, his muscles throbbing with exertion. The evening light filtered through the windows, casting a golden hue over the pool deck. As Brandon reached for his towel, the coach appeared, blocking his path. “Leave that,” Mr. Thompson said, his eyes raking over Brandon’s body. “Come to my office like that.”

 

Brandon hesitated, his heart pounding. He glanced down at his skimpy Speedo, the fabric clinging to his muscular thighs and accentuating every curve of his powerful legs. His abs rippled as he shifted, the material straining over his bulging package. With a deep breath, he nodded, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.

 

Mr Thompson then winked and said “I’ve got a surprise for you Brandon!” The coach had arranged a private meeting with several older, influential men from the swimming community, and Brandon was to be the main attraction. These men heard about Brandon from Mr Thompson and could not wait to see the coach’s prize swimmer.

Brandon stepped into Coach Thompson’s office, apprehension gnawing at his gut. He had no idea what the coach had planned for him and it left him feeling both anxious and excited.

 

As he stepped inside, Brandon’s eyes fell upon Coach Thompson, who was sitting behind his desk with a wide grin on his face. But it wasn’t the coach that made Brandon’s heart skip a beat; it was the four old men sitting across from him. Brandon recognized them instantly as the same men from the photos on Mr. Thompson’s desk.

The men looked up as Brandon entered, their eyes hungrily devouring his toned body, clad only in the skimpy Speedo he had been instructed to wear. A sense of sexual tension filled the room as they leered at him, making Brandon feel like a prized piece of meat on display.

 

“Ah, Brandon! Right on time,” Coach Thompson said, his voice oozing with satisfaction. “Come in, close the door, and meet our esteemed guests.”

Brandon hesitantly approached the men, his heart pounding in his chest. As he drew closer, he could see the lust in their eyes, and it gave him goosebumps, making his skin all the more sensitive.

 

One of the men, a diminutive balding gentleman with a potbelly, spoke up first. “So, you’re the famous Brandon, eh? We’ve heard so much about you.” His words were laced with desire, and Brandon could feel his cock twitching in response.

 

Another man, this one lanky with a thin moustache and beady eyes, chimed in. “Yes, yes. We’ve seen pictures of your progress, but nothing compares to the real thing.” He gestured towards Brandon’s speedo, his skeletal fingers almost brushing against the outline of the younger man’s growing erection.

 

Brandon felt his face flush as the men continued to ogle at him, making small talk about his physique and asking him questions about his training regimen. The lecherous undertones in their voices left no doubt as to their true intentions, and Brandon found himself both repulsed and aroused by their attention.

 

Coach Thompson watched the exchange with amusement, clearly enjoying Brandon’s discomfort. “Now, Brandon, why don’t you flex for us?” he suggested, a wicked glint in his eye. “I’m sure the gentlemen would love to see you just how far you’ve come with your training."

 

The men chuckled amongst themselves, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. Brandon was unsure but was not able to verbalise anything. Instead, he swallowed hard, knowing that he had no choice but to submit to their desires.

 

“Go on,” Mr. Thompson urged, his voice increasingly demanding. “Let us have a good look at our star swimmer.”

 

As Brandon stood before the old men, his body still tingling from their touch, Mr. Thompson smiled down at him and said, “You know, boys, I think it would be a great idea for Brandon to show off his progress with a little posing routine. Don’t you agree?”

 

The men eagerly nodded their agreement, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. Brandon felt a mixture of excitement and unease as he realized that he would once again be the center of attention for these lustful older men. He took a deep breath and began to flex his muscles, performing a series of poses that highlighted his chiseled physique. As he did so, the men let out appreciative whistles and cheers, encouraging him to continue.

 

Brandon couldn’t help but feel proud of his body as he watched the older men fawn over his every move. Their compliments and desire made him feel strong and powerful, and he found himself revelling in the attention.

 

After several minutes of posing, one of the men spoke up, his voice dripping with lust. “Mr. Thomson, we really should be able to touch Brandon’s muscles to appreciate his progress as a champion swimmer,” he said, his gaze lingering on Brandon’s toned abs.

 

Mr. Thomson hesitated for a moment, then nodded his assent. “Alright, boys, you can touch, but be gentle. We don’t want to hurt our star swimmer.”

 

The portly gentleman, Mr. Steamback reached out first towards Brandon’s chest. He began softly massaging his pecs and Brandon instinctively flexed them, responding to Mr Steamback’s touch. The sensation of the man pressing on his hardening pectorals brought forth an electric pleasure surging through Brandon’s body. With each contraction of his fibers came a swift wave of enjoyment from his groin to the top of his head.

 

The rest of the men crowded around Brandon, their hands roaming over his body as they marveled at his muscles. Brandon found himself enjoying the contact, even as he felt uncomfortable with their lustful looks. Within moments, Brandon found himself surrounded by the old men, each of them eager to touch and caress his toned physique. Their hands roamed over his chest and abs, squeezing his nipples and tracing the contours of his muscular frame. Brandon couldn’t help but moan as they explored every inch of him, their touch both gentle and demanding.

 

The men took turns pinching and playing with Brandon’s nipples, causing him to gasp and arch his back in pleasure. The sensations were unlike anything he had ever experienced before, and his cock responded accordingly, growing harder and throbbing with each touch.

 

One of the older men, Mr. Blowharder, bent down in front of Brandon and began to lavish special attention on his nipples, alternating between gentle caresses and firm pinches. Brandon’s head fell back in ecstasy, his mouth open in a silent scream as the pleasure coursed through his body.

 

Another man, Mr. Marcel, stood behind Brandon, running his hands up and down the younger man’s arms. He marveled at the size and definition of Brandon’s biceps, urging him to flex his muscles for their enjoyment. Brandon complied, feeling a rush of power as he watched the old men fawn over his physique. As Mr. Marcel continued to admire Brandon’s biceps, he allowed his fingers to drift lower, tracing the outline of Brandon’s sides. Brandon shuddered at the touch, his cock twitching in anticipation of what was to come next.

 

Mr. Thompson approached Brandon, a hungry look in his eyes. He placed his hands on Brandon’s chest, pushing him back against the wall. Brandon gasped as he felt the coach’s weight bearing down on him, the older man’s erection pressing into his hip.

 

Without warning, Mr. Thompson leaned in and began kissing Brandon, his tongue invading Brandon’s mouth. Brandon’s moans filled the room as he gave himself over to the sensations, his body no longer his own.

 

The other men watched with eager eyes, their own cocks straining against their pants as they waited for their turn with the young stud. They took turns caressing Brandon’s abs, thighs, and arms, each touch driving him closer to the edge of pleasure and pain.

 

Brandon found himself lost in a world of sensations, his body surrendering to the desires of the older men. Mr Marcel spoke up, his voice quivering in excited lust. “It would be much easier for us to measure Brandon’s progress if he takes off his speedo,” he said, his eyes locked onto the younger man’s groin. The rest of the old men readily agreed with Mr. Marcel’s suggestion and nodded furiously while not stopping their perverted molesting of the fit swimmer.

 

Brandon hesitated, unsure if he wanted to go that far. Mr Thompson said “You want to be a swim champ don’t you?” Brandon mouth was dry and could not say anything. He suddenly remembered his goal and the desire for approval and acceptance from these men was too strong, and he finally nodded his consent.

 

Slowly, Brandon reached down and slipped off his Speedo, revealing his fully erect 7 inch veiny cock to the eager gazes of the old men. They let out a collective gasp, their eyes filled with hunger as they stared at his naked form. The men circled around Brandon, their hungry gazes raking over his dripping wet body. He shivered slightly, feeling both exposed and aroused under their intense scrutiny. As the men moved closer, Brandon caught sight of their eager faces and the prominent bulges in their pants. A wave of lust swept through him, and he felt his own cock twitch in response.

 

Mr Steamback, ever the eager enthusiast, reached out and cupped Brandon’s balls, causing the younger man to gasp in surprise. The touch sent electricity coursing through his veins, and he couldn’t help but thrust his hips forward, offering himself up for more. The other men continued to touch and caress him as well. Emboldened, the old men started licking Brandon’s muscles focusing on his nipples, pits, neck and bicpes. Tongues roamed over his chest and abs, sucking on his nipples and tracing the contours of his muscular frame.

 

Brandon found himself lost in a world of pleasure, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the men explored every inch of his body. It wasn’t long before he felt a burning need to release the pressure building within him, and he reached down to stroke his hardening cock.

 

Just then, Mr. Thomson intervened, grabbing Brandon’s wrist and stopping him mid-stroke. “Not yet, my boy,” he purred, his eyes glinting with desire. “We have plenty of time for that later. For now, enjoy the attention of these fine gentlemen.”

 

With that, Mr. Thomson leaned in and kissed Brandon passionately again, forcing his tongue past the younger man’s parted lips. The taste of the coach’s mouth, combined with the sensation of multiple hands touching his body, sent Brandon into a state of pure ecstasy. The lines between pleasure and disgust blurred as he discovered new depths of depravity, his body surrendering to the desires of his coach and the other men. Brandon’s muffled groans were so loud it was fortunate that the campus was empty.

 

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[Jellapho]

Nice fantasy story! If only we have more Brandons around in real life lol... 

[Jock Cummings]

On 5/17/2025 at 12:47 PM, Jellapho said:

Nice fantasy story! If only we have more Brandons around in real life lol... 

LOL. Tell me about it! If only. 

[Jock Cummings]

Brandon the Swim Jock Part 3

 

 

After that eventful evening with Mr. Thompson’s old, ugly friends, Brandon’s swim times improved dramatically. The touches and lickings from those perverted men seemed to awaken something primal within him. Every caress on his muscular frame fueled a raw intensity in his strokes. He felt stronger, faster, as if their twisted desires had become the very engine that propelled him through the water.

 

In the dimly lit office, Coach Thompson’s voice hummed with a steady, persuasive rhythm. “Brandon,” he began, his eyes locked onto the young swimmer, “you trust me, don’t you?” He leaned closer, his fat fingers grazing Brandon’s arm, leaving a trail of warmth as he continued.

 

“Yes, Coach,” Brandon replied, his gaze unfocused, his body relaxed in the chair.

 

“Good. Now, I want you to listen carefully. Your swimming has improved remarkably, hasn’t it?”

 

“It has,” Brandon murmured, nodding slowly.

 

“And you believe this is because of our sessions together?” Coach Thompson leaned closer, both his large chubby frame and presence dominating over Brandon.

 

“I do.”

 

“Excellent. To further enhance your performance, I have a new task for you. It will seem unusual at first, but trust that it’s part of your training. You will volunteer as a model for an art class. This exposure will help you relax and focus more during competitions. Do you understand?”

 

Brandon blinked, processing the instructions. “I understand, Coach.”

 

“Perfect. Remember, every command I give is for your benefit. You will feel compelled to follow through with this, not out of obligation, but because it feels right. You will embrace this opportunity eagerly.”

 

Brandon nodded, his eyes still glazed with the lingering effects of the hypnosis. “Yes, Coach.”

 

“This class is held at a senior citizen center, out of town. It’s a perfect opportunity to showcase your volunteer spirit, which will undoubtedly impress any scholarship committee,” Coach Thompson explained, his tone implying that this was more than just a suggestion.

 

“Mr. Steamback, the owner of the center, has personally requested for you because, as he put it, ‘you are the epitome of perfection for artists to capture.’ You remember Mr. Steamback, don’t you, Brandon? Few nights ago, he really enjoyed your body,” Coach Thompson said, his voice low and suggestive, a sly grin playing on his lips.

 

Brandon’s brow furrowed slightly, as if trying to recall the memory. “Yes, I remember him,” he replied, his voice steady but distant.

 

“Good. Embrace this role, Brandon. It feels right, doesn’t it?” Coach Thompson pressed, his tone persuasive, almost hypnotic.

 

“Yes, Coach,” Brandon murmured, his voice calm and compliant feeling a strange compulsion to fulfil this new directive. “It does feel right.”

 

“Good. Remember, every part of this is designed to elevate your performance. You will eagerly look forward to this experience, knowing it’s essential for your success.”

 

Brandon stood in front of the mirror, admiring the way his tank top clung to his muscular torso. He ran a hand through his hair, making sure it was perfectly styled for his upcoming art class. This time, Coach Thompson had instructed him to wear something casual yet alluring – jean cut-offs and a tight-fitting tank top. As Brandon adjusted his clothes, he couldn’t help but feel a mixture of anticipation and unease about what awaited him at the senior citizen center.

 

He left his apartment and made his way to the bus stop, his heart racing as he thought about that evening in Mr Thompson’s office. The memory of the old men’s hands and tongues on his body constantly replayed in his mind and instantly made his cock twitch. He felt strange but he knew that he had to obey Coach Thompson’s commands.

As he boarded the bus to the senior center, Brandon noticed a balding obese man about late 40s with thick glasses sitting near the back. The man looked up as Brandon approached, eyes lit up and a smile spreading across his face. Much to Brandon’s dismay, the man scooted over, making room for him to sit down. Brandon felt the need to sit next to him.

 

“Hello there,” the man said, his voice raspy and wheezing. “I take this bus all the time and I never see you before.”

 

Brandon smiled weekly and kept quiet. However, Brandon couldn’t help but feel both intrigued and repelled by the obese man’s interest in him. He decided to play it safe and keep the man at arm’s length, offering vague responses to his eager questions.

 

Rupert, the fat older nerd, continued to bombard him with personal questions, desperate to know everything about him. It was clearly apparent that Rupert found Brandon irresistible and couldn’t control his desire to know more about this mysterious young man who had suddenly appeared in his life. Rupert then tried the simplest of questions.

 

“So where are you headed?”

 

Coach Thompson’s words suddenly echoed in Brandon’s mind, urging him to submit to his desires. It was as if the coach’s voice had triggered some primal instinct within Brandon, making it impossible for him to resist any advances from old men.

 

Brandon finally gave in and replied, trying to sound friendly. “I’m on my way to an art class."

 

The obese man’s eyes lit up at the mention of the art class. “Oh, really?” he asked, leaning in closer. “I love art. What kind of class are you taking?”

 

Brandon hesitated again, unsure how much he should reveal. “Oh no. I’m the model for an art class for senior citizens,” he finally admitted, feeling a wave of excitement mixed with apprehension.

 

The man’s jaw dropped, and his eyes widened behind his thick glasses. “No way!” he exclaimed. “That sounds amazing. You are definitely perfect for it. I wish I could go.”

Brandon couldn’t help but feel flattered by the man’s interest, but he also wanted to maintain control over the situation. He suddenly had the notion to tease the obese man while still keeping him at a distance. He knew he looked good and couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence as he flexed his muscles, making them ripple beneath his skin.

He turned around to face the obese man, who was watching him with an almost desperate hunger in his eyes. Brandon decided to have some fun with the situation and slowly raised his arms behind his head, showing off his toned biceps, pecs, and nipples and pits. The obese man’s eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets as he stared at Brandon’s body, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

 

Brandon smiled to himself, enjoying the power he held over the man. He decided to take things a step further and began to run his hands over his chest, circling his nipples and teasingly tweaking them. The obese man’s saliva pooled at the corners of his mouth as he watched Brandon touch himself.

 

“What are you looking at?” Brandon asked, disgusted he asked that question but enjoying the way the man squirmed under his gaze.

 

The obese man’s mouth was agape and his saliva started flowing out, his eyes never leaving Brandon’s body. Brandon smiled and continued to tease the man, knowing that he could do whatever he wanted and the man would be powerless to stop him. As the bus pulled up to the senior citizen center, Brandon made sure to give the obese man one last reminder of what he was missing. He stood up and turned around, presenting his backside to the man. He bent over slightly, giving the man a clear view of his tight, round buttocks. The obese man’s eyes practically glazed over as he stared at Brandon’s perfect backside, his arousal evident in the growing bulge beneath his shirt.

 

Brandon exited the bus, feeling confused that he did what he did but also pleased with himself for dominating the obese man so easily. As he made his way into the senior citizen center, he couldn’t help but anticipate the next part of Mr. Thompson’s plan. What awaited him inside? And how far would he go to please the old men and fulfil the perverted desires of his hypnotist coach?

 

Brandon cleared his head from the bus encounter, entered the senior citizen center and walked into the art room. The walls were adorned with various paintings and sketches, most of which featured nude men in provocative poses. Brandon thought that to be a bit peculiar. Still, he felt a mix of excitement and nervousness as he scanned the room, and saw that the room was full of old men gathering around easels, their eyes fixated on him.

 

Brandon’s eyes darted around the room, landing on two short, pudgy older men in their late 50s. One he vaguely recognized from that evening at Coach Thompson’s office, where his body had been explored by eager hands. The other man, flamboyantly dressed in a garish sequinned coat, stood with an air of confidence in the center of the room. Upon spotting Brandon, both men gestured wildly for him to join them.

 

Mr. Steamback approached Brandon with a lustful grin, his hands immediately finding their way to Brandon’s biceps and shoulder. “Ah, Brandon, my boy! You look even more delectable than I remember,” he said, his voice dripping with innuendo as he reminisced about their previous encounter. “That night was quite... invigorating, wasn’t it?”

Brandon felt a mix of discomfort and compliance under Mr. Steamback’s touch, his mind echoing Coach Thompson’s commands. “Yes, Mr. Steamback,” he replied, his voice steady despite the churning emotions inside him.

 

“I have someone I want you to meet,” Mr. Steamback continued, grabbing Brandon’s biceps and shoving him towards the man in the sequinned coat. “This is Mr. Jenkins, an esteemed artist and a dear friend. He’s very much looking forward to capturing your... essence.”

 

Mr. Jenkins extended a hand, his eyes roaming over Brandon’s physique with undisguised appreciation. “Pleasure to meet you, Brandon. Your coach has told me so much about you. I must say, looking at you, you are a true muse,” he said, his voice smooth and suggestive.

 

Brandon shook Mr. Jenkins’ hand, feeling the weight of their expectations. “Thank you, Mr. Jenkins,” he responded softly.

 

The effeminate art teacher then proclaimed. “Ah, Class! Welcome Brandon! Brandon, please, remove your clothes and take a seat on the podium.”

 

Taken aback by Mr. Jenkins’ proposition, Brandon could feel his heart racing in his chest. “Strip?” he echoed, unsure if he had heard correctly. “You want me to pose nude for the class?”

 

Mr. Jenkins feigned a look of puzzlement before responding, “Well, my dear boy, we are drawing nudes today. It’s quite essential for an artist to study the human form in all its glory.” His eyes roamed hungrily over Brandon’s toned body as he placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

 

Mr. Steamback chimed in, his voice laced with anticipation, “Indeed, Brandon. Your coach has prepared you well for this moment. Embrace it. You know it feels right.” He gave Brandon a reassuring pat on the back, though his eyes betrayed a predatory gleam.

 

Brandon hesitated, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension rising within him. He knew that Mr. Thompson had instructed him to do whatever these old men asked of him, but stripping down in front of an open room full of old men seemed like a step too far.

 

The class full of old men began to chime in, their voices laced with desire and eagerness. “Oh yes, please do, young man,” one of them pleaded, his eyes fixated on Brandon’s body. “We promise to be gentle and respectful.” Another man chimed in, “We just want to appreciate your beauty, Brandon. It would be an honor to draw your naked form.” The other old men nodded in agreement, their gazes locked on Brandon’s body.

 

Mr. Jenkins leaned in close, his hot breath smelling of candy as he whispered, “You know you want to do this, Brandon. Embrace your desires and let these gentlemen admire your beauty.”

 

Brandon felt his resolve weakening under the weight of their collective gaze. The hypnotic suggestions from Mr. Thompson echoed in his mind, urging him to submit to his desires. With a deep breath, Brandon began to peel off his clothes, starting with his tank top. The old men watched intently, their eyes devouring every inch of exposed skin. Next, Brandon slipped off his jean shorts, revealing his tight briefs that were stretched to their limit by his growing erection. The men let out a collective gasp as they took in the sight of Brandon’s barely contained arousal.

 

Mr Jenkins was not going to allow Brandon to stop. “Oh my, you are simply stunning,” Mr. Jenkins whispered, his eyes lingering on Brandon’s chest. “Now, please remove your underwear so the gentlemen can begin sketching you.”

 

Brandon hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and slid them down his legs, revealing his fully growing veiny cock which bounced hypnotically. The men couldn’t hide their excitement any longer, and they began to applaud and cheer as they beheld Brandon’s naked form.

 

Mr. Jenkins stepped forward, his eyes devouring Brandon’s naked form. “You are truly a work of art, my dear boy,” he murmured, tracing a finger along Brandon’s chiseled abs, causing the young man to shiver under his touch.

 

Simultaneously, Mr. Steamback positioned himself behind Brandon, who was seated naked on the couch. With a sly grin, he placed both hands on Brandon’s nipples, gently rolling them between his fingers. “Indeed, your beauty is a gift to us all,” Mr. Steamback added, his voice low and suggestive as he manipulated Brandon’s sensitive flesh.

Brandon felt a wave of pride, satisfaction and tremendous arousal wash over him as he basked in the attention of the old men. He surrendered to their desires and allowed them to appreciate his naked form, reveling in the adrenalin that came with embracing his primal instincts.

 

Mr. Jenkins began his class. “Now, I understand that some of you might be a bit shy or nervous about drawing such a fine specimen,” Mr. Jenkins continued, looking around the room at the eager faces. “But I want you to remember that this is an opportunity to hone your skills. Brandon here is going to help you become better artists by being the perfect muse. Remember, gentlemen, the key to capturing his essence is to draw what you feel, not just what you see. Don’t be afraid to let your imagination run wild. ”

Brandon found himself becoming more and more aroused by the intense focus the old men were giving him. Their pencils moved furiously across their canvases, capturing every detail of his body. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of power, knowing that he held their attention so completely.

 

Despite his initial reservations, Brandon soon found himself enjoying the attention of the old men. The heat of their gazes upon him was like a physical touch, sending shivers down his spine and making his hard veiny cock fully erect with excitement.

 

As the old men continued with their sketches, Mr. Jenkins approached Brandon, his hands lingering on the young man’s thighs. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he cooed, running a finger along Brandon’s inner thigh. “Just relax and enjoy the attention. These men are going to make you feel like a work of art.”

 

Brandon shivered under the teacher’s touch, his body responding to the hypnotic suggestions he’d received during his sessions with Mr. Thompson. He felt an overwhelming urge to please the men, to give them whatever they desired.

 

After several minutes of intense sketching, Mr. Jenkins called for a break, instructing the men to put down their pencils and step away from their work. “Take a moment to appreciate Brandon’s form, gentlemen,” he said, gesturing towards the young man. “You’ve made excellent progress so far. But now it’s time to take your artistry to the next level.”

 

“I want each of you to take a turn feeling Brandon’s body,” Mr. Jenkins continued, his gaze never leaving Brandon’s face. “Explore every inch of him, from his shoulders to his toes. Let’s show our appreciation for this magnificent specimen of manhood.”

 

Brandon froze as he pondered the meaning of Mr. Jenkins’ instructions. He felt Mr. Jenkins’s hands caressing his shoulders from behind. “What’s wrong, Brandon?” he asked with a gentle smile, running his fingers through Brandon’s hair. “Consider this an opportunity for deeper understanding, Brandon,” Mr. Jenkins murmured, his voice smooth and persuasive. “These artists need to feel the contours of your muscles, the texture of your skin, to truly capture your essence on paper. It’s all in the name of art, my dear boy.”

 

Brandon swallowed hard, trying to calm his racing thoughts. Thoughts of disgust but more significantly, thoughts of arousal.

 

The old men wasted no time in following Mr. Jenkins’ command. They rushed to line up, each one waiting for their turn to touch Brandon. The young man lay on the couch, his eyes closed as he surrendered to their desires, Coach Thompson’s hypnotic suggestions still ringing in his mind.

 

Mr Steamback was the first forward, his hands trembling with anticipation. He began by tracing the contours of Brandon’s face, marveling at the perfection of his features. His fingers traveled down the length of Brandon’s neck, pausing to explore the hollow of his throat, tracing his fingers across his pronounced collarbone before moving on to his chest. As the man caressed Brandon’s chest, the young man felt a shiver run through him. Brandon felt the old man’s nimble fingers dancing over his chest, tracing each contour and crevice with an artist’s precision. The man seemed to be particularly fascinated by Brandon’s nipples, spending what felt like an eternity flicking, tweaking, and kneading them as if they held the key to unlocking the mysteries of the universe.

 

The sensations were electric, sending shivers down Brandon’s spine and igniting a fire in his loins. He gasped as the man increased the pressure, twisting his nipples deftly. The discomfort only served to heighten Brandon’s arousal, making him keenly aware of every touch, every breath, every heartbeat. Brandon felt himself growing harder by the second, his cock throbbing and bouncing as it became engorged. He couldn’t help but squirm under the old man’s touch, his body begging for more.

 

Suddenly, the man stopped, leaving Brandon hanging on the precipice of pleasure. With a sly grin, he looked up at Brandon and nodded towards the other men in the room. “I think it’s time we shared the wealth,” he said, his voice thick with desire.

 

The second man in line took his place, his hands roaming over Brandon’s abs and hips. He squeezed the young man’s flesh, reveling in the solid muscle beneath his fingertips. The man’s breath grew ragged as he explored Brandon’s body, his own desire mounting with each passing moment.

 

The next old man almost shoved the second man away. This man was a tall and wiry gentleman with a long white beard who wore a cardigan sweater and tweed pants. He knelt beside Brandon and began running his hands gently over the young man’s chest, marveling at the smoothness of his skin and the definition of his muscles. As he traced the contours of Brandon’s abs, he leaned in closer, his warm breath tickling Brandon’s stomach. Pretending to be short-sighted, the old man moved in too close to Brandon’s neck, making the young man shiver with anticipation. His hands continued to explore, moving lower to cup Brandon’s balls, gently massaging them before taking hold of his hardening cock slyly giving a moaning Brandon slow and deliberate strokes.

 

Mr Jenkins had to chase him away.

 

It was the now turn of a stockier old man with a pronounced round belly who wore a loud Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts, revealing a pair of hairy legs that contrasted with Brandon’s smooth, toned limbs. He eagerly climbed onto the couch, wedging himself between Brandon’s legs, his hands immediately grasping the young man’s thighs. The stocky old man began to inspect and fondle his way up Brandon’s legs, taking his time to savor every inch of skin. When he reached Brandon’s groin, he paused, looking up at the young man with a mischievous grin before placing his face right next to Brandon’s cock. The old man’s hot breath made Brandon’s member bounce, accidentally slapping the Hawaiian shirt old man’s lips in the process.

 

The next old man in line was a slender gentleman with thinning hair and glasses that rested on the tip of his nose. He wore a tweed jacket with suede elbow patches and carried himself with an air of scholarly intelligence. He observed Brandon carefully, taking mental notes of the young man’s beauty before joining him on the couch. The scholarly old man began by inhaling Brandon scent, his nose trailing along Brandon’s inner thighs, working his way higher until he reached the young man’s balls. He took one in his hand, gently clasping and massaging it while his other hand caressed Brandon’s perineum. As Brandon moaned with pleasure, the old man used a finger to circle Brandon’s virgin hole and continued to lavish attention on Brandon’s balls.

 

Each old man brought something unique to the table, their individual styles and techniques combining to create an unforgettable experience for Brandon. The young man found himself lost in a sea of sensations, unable to resist the advances of these experienced gentlemen. Brandon found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything other than the excruciating need to relieve himself. It took him all the willpower not to touch his hard cock there and then.

 

Mr Jenkins put a halt to the proceedings to the chagrin of the participants. “Now, gentlemen,” Mr. Jenkins said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s give our model a well-deserved break. We wouldn’t want to wear him out completely, would we?” The old men grumbled in protest and reluctantly went back to their seats. Mr Jenkins carried on. “Come now, we mustn’t overwork our model. Besides, I have a special treat for him.” He winked at Brandon, knowing full well the torment the young man was experiencing.

Brandon’s heart raced as he wondered what Mr Jenkins had in store for him.

 

Mr Jenkins approached Brandon, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. He ran a hand over Brandon’s chest, causing the young man to shiver with anticipation. “You’ve done wonderfully tonight, Brandon,” he purred. “But I think it’s time we helped you with your little... problem.”

 

Brandon’s eyes widened as Mr Jenkins knelt before him, taking Brandon’s hard cock into his mouth. The sensation was unexpected and intense, sending waves of pleasure coursing through Brandon’s body. He moaned, his hands instinctively grabbing onto Mr Jenkins’ shoulders for support.

 

The old men watched, transfixed, as their teacher pleasured the young model. They couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy, wishing they too could taste Brandon’s sweet nectar. But they knew their place, and they settled for watching the erotic display before them, each capturing the moment on their canvas.

 

As Brandon’s moans grew louder, Mr. Jenkins increased the intensity of his ministrations, his pudgy hands fondling Brandon’s nipples while he sucked Brandon’s cock with gusto, determined to bring the young man to the edge.

 

Brandon’s body tensed, and he cried out reflexively, “Oh god!” His voice was a mix of desperation and pleasure as he felt his orgasm building. Mr. Jenkins, sensing the impending explosion, intensified his efforts. His lips tightened around Brandon’s throbbing shaft, and his tongue swirled expertly over the sensitive head. Each movement was calculated to drive Brandon further into ecstasy, pushing him closer to the edge. As Brandon’s moans grew louder, Mr. Jenkins’ hands twisted and pinched Brandon’s nipples, adding to Brandon’s overwhelming experience.

 

The room was filled with the sounds of Brandon’s pleasure, each gasp and moan echoing off the walls as he neared his peak. With a guttural cry, “Arghh…I’m cumming!” Brandon’s body tensed and then convulsed as his climax overtook him. His hot seed erupted into Mr. Jenkins’ eager mouth, the older man swallowing eagerly, savoring every drop. Brandon’s body shuddered violently, each pulse of his release sending waves of pleasure through him that left him weak and breathless.

 

As the last of his essence was consumed by Mr. Jenkins, Brandon collapsed back onto the couch, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. The room was silent for a moment, the only sound the heavy breathing of the spent model and the soft slurping noises as Mr. Jenkins finished cleaning Brandon’s cock with his tongue. Finally, Mr. Jenkins stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied grin on his face. “Well done, gentlemen,” he said, addressing the class. “You’ve all contributed to a most... enlightening session.”

 

The old men cheered and applauded as Brandon trembled with pleasure. Mr Jenkins stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied grin on his face. “There now, that’s better, isn’t it?”

 

Brandon nodded, still catching his breath. He couldn’t believe what had just happened, but somehow, it felt right. He had given these men a glimpse of youth, and they had given him something he didn’t know he needed – a taste of forbidden pleasure.

 

As the evening came to a close, Brandon dressed and prepared to leave. The old men approached him one by one, thanking him for his time and complimenting his beauty. They knew they would cherish the memory of that night for years to come.

 

Mr Jenkins and Mr Steamback walked Brandon to the door, grinning from ear to ear. “You did wonderfully tonight, Brandon,” he said, patting the young man on the back. “We will definitely see more of you soon.”

 

Brandon smiled, feeling a strange sense of pride and belonging. He knew that he had found a special place in this world, among these old men who appreciated his beauty and vitality.

 

 

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