Wish Stone: The Rugby Coach (musc)

How was I supposed to know Coach would do that?

I showed him my wishing rock and asked him what to do. I figured it was dangerous and I was likely to make some stupid mistake. I wanted to ask someone I knew and trusted to help me figure out what to wish for, and Coach had been so good to me that year.

He didn't believe me at first and thought I was yanking his chain. When I wished my hair blond and Coach watched it change right before his eyes, believed me then.

He thrust his beefy body over his desk, his hands stretched out. He snatched the stone out of my hand, and then, clenching it tightly, before I even had a chance to protest, wished that I really wanted to make him happy and that I'd happily and immediately do whatever he told me to.

And even though I knew about the wish and remembered that the rock belonged to me, it didn't matter. I still wanted to obey him. I still needed to make him happy. I asked him what I could do for him and he smiled back at me.

He told me to keep quiet while he thought about what to do next.

I stood silently, biting my tongue for a split second, wondering if I should disobey him so quickly. Deciding that telling him about the stone would make him happier than staying quiet would, I told him how the stone worked. How only people that hear a wish being spoken can remember the way things used to be.

He loved that, telling me that would make things a lot easier as he gave me another big smile. I felt so incredibly pleased to know I'd made him happy, even if only for a few seconds.

Fifteen short minutes later, I stood before a completely transformed and naked man. Before, he'd been a beefy but flabby man in his late thirties. Not anymore. I'd watched his muscles grow and his gut recede, becoming a rock-hard, eight pack. He now had that perfect v-shape that all bodybuilders strive for, wide, broad shoulders tapering down into his relatively tiny waist. His thighs, bigger around than my head, flared out of his crotch, thick and massive.

He had wished himself ten years younger, and given himself a cock and libido to match his perfect body. At over a foot long soft, it was the largest dick I'd ever seen. He had big orange sized balls to match, and had wished that his dick never get tired and could shoot more than a cup of jizz each time he orgasmed.

He'd also made wishes about the team. That they all worship his body and love serving him, sexually and otherwise. That no one minds that he has this relationship with his team, and actually encourages the guys to do what he says and keep him happy. He made more, but I can't remember all of them anymore.

Naked except for a red ball cap and some dog tags, he strolled out of his office to see the results of his wishes, me following just behind. Sure enough, the entire rugby team was standing around in the new lounge he'd wished up. They were all naked and all just that little bit more muscular. And each of them had an erection. Along with myself. That was our new default state around Coach: boned up and eager to pleasure him.
Brady, one of my buddies, asked Coach if he was ready for his post game party. Coach nodded, and Brady brought him his glass of scotch. He wrapped his fingers around as much of coach's huge cock as he could and gently pulled him over to the lounge sofa. Coach followed along and then sat down and stretched out, taking a sip of his scotch.

Rick, standing over the sofa, lit up one of coach's Cuban cigars and handed it to him. Coach took a puff and sighed. "This is the life," he said.
Two of the others grabbed onto his big feet and started giving them a tongue bath. I followed suit and fell to my knees in front of his monster cock. Another guy, Raj, dropped down beside me. He licked at Coach's huge jock balls while I swallowed Coach's massive tool.

Soon enough, the rest of the team had crowded in around him, all within distance of Coach's striated arms. Coach smoked his cigar and relaxed, groping a butt cheek here, a pec there. Ordering one of my team mates to suck off another while he watched. All while Raj and I went to town on his glorious package.

When the door opened a few minutes later, I got scared when I looked up and saw the Dean of Admissions walk in. Coach looked down at me quickly, panic obvious on his handsome face. I could tell he was thinking the same thing I was: had the rock really made everyone forget?
But the Dean didn't look surprised at what he saw in the least. He apologized for interrupting and said that he wanted to tell the coach again what a great job he was doing with the team. Coach said thanks.

And then the Dean stood there in silence for an uncomfortable second, looking at the a scene in front of him. Almost like he were hoping for an invitation to join us worshipping Coach's perfect body. He's much too old and gross for Coach, so when Coach cleared his throat, the Dean said "Well, I'll let you get back to it" and left.

I got back to it, doing my best to polish Coach's round knob. It didn't take long before he rewarded me with a huge load which I greedily swallowed down. Raj gave me a jealous look, so I guiltily traded him places. He immediately went to town on Coach's still rock hard cock, hoping to taste the essence of the most incredible man on the planet.

Did I make a mistake going to him for advice about my wishing rock? I don't think so. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have discovered how hot it is to worship him alongside all of my friends.