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Standing up, Sam leaning face first against the wall, Ryan holding Sam up in the air, both facing each other, and pile-driver style. Sometimes not even in a sexual way. Were you in the middle of someone?” Sam said, with a glint in his eye. Coach, where do you want him?” Sam was letting Ryan take control again. For Ryan, the sensation was a new one. “You did good, but it looks like we made a mess.” And then, he kissed Freddie. And Coach began to push in. ‘God, if Lacey were to walk in right now, she’d die.’ He thought of how he must look: wearing nothing but a tan polo, his underwear around his ankles, feet up in the air, and an androgynous think buried neck deep in his asshole.