Tough Day

 Billy had had a really tough day on the water. He wasn't hitting the catch with the rest of the boat, but then all four of the guys were hitting at will, he was going too deep and ended up catching multiple crabs and he buried his calves into the tracks so hard, and often, that blood was running down his legs and soaked his socks. 

The boat was so badly sit up that all the guys came away with busted knuckles and deflated spirits. They were angry and embarrassed  and couldn't wait to get away. The rest of the program had seen the chaos and they pretty much stayed away from the guys - it was pretty much silent running for anyone around them. 

I thought everyone was gone but when I walked into my office there he was. Sitting on the bench along the back wall. He was sort of hunched over with his face buried into his arm. 

"Billy. Billy are you ok?"

"No." He looked over at me and it was obvious that he'd been crying. 

"That was a pretty shitty day out there today. Have your calves stopped bleeding yet?"

"I don't think so. It was the shittiest day of my life! I just don't know what happened."

"It was the whole boat. Sometimes it happens like that Billy - be glad it was at practice and not race day."

"They think it was me."

"They said that?" 

"No. But I could tell."

"All five of you probably thin k it was your fault. Stop beating yourself up over it."

"I wanna. I wanna pay for it. I just shouldn't have gone out there today - I knew I was gonna fuck it up." He started to tear up a little as he started bashing himself. He hadn't had an episode like this in a long while but, all of s sudden, here it was again. 

"No. I'm not going to let you do this I'm not gonna watch you beat yourself up over a bad day."

He froze. I froze. 'where to from here?' I thought. I sat down beside him and put my arm around him and he melted into me. I remembered the way he'd done this nearly a year ago when we first met. He was just a young recruit to the squad. He was prone to pushing things - he wouldn't let things go until someone would, literally, slap him or punch him or throw him around.  He liked it rough - everything - life - love - sex - everything. 

"Fuck me!" He sobbed and said quietly into my shoulder. "Fuck me."

"You haven't even showered yet have you?" I could smell the sweat and his muskiness wafting off of him. He'd just striped down and thrown on a pair of jeans and a loose sweater and come into the office to wait for me. 

"No sir. I wanna go home smelling like the slut loser I am." 

"Stop! You gotta put it together or I'm just gonna kick your ass out."

"What?" He looked so shocked it almost made me cry. He'd turned to look right at me - a leg on either side of the bench and his hands holding tight to his knees. I grabbed him - a hand under each armpit and pulled him back to me and kissed him hard on the lips. 

He opened his mouth and we both probed each others mouths with our tongues. I kept telling myself to stop. 'Stop - don't let him make you do this stuff with him again! Don't let him do this to himself again!' But I couldn't help it. 

He liked it rough and he knew I could make it rough for him and most of all he knew he could make me do that even though it wasn't in my nature to be rough with my boys. I loved to make submissive boys take control of me and he liked making easy lovers into hard masters. 

He slapped me and I slapped him back. He leaned back and raised his legs up and showed me his crotch and his butt and he pleaded. “Please!"   

I pulled his pants off him. I just grabbed them by the waist and yanked them down and then another yank and they were off. I threw them to the side and resettled myself - straddling the bench with his legs spread wide on either side of me. He was wide open - he was hard and his balls were pulling up into his tight sack. 

I wouldn't let him take his sweater off. I spit into my hand and lubed my self with it and shoved the head into him. His sweat mixed with the river water, that had splashed all over them during practice, made for additional lube. I slipped easily into him and he breathed in and out quickly and signaled his delight. 

"Cry baby. Cry for me." I ordered as I began pounding into him.  He did. He could cry on demand and his eyes welled up and I saw his cock and balls bounce about with every deep thrust I gave him. 

He put his hands down beside him and, with mine finally free from controlling him, I slapped him lightly from one side and then from the other. He looked shocked then comfortable and he cried and he shook his head as if to say no but then yes. 

We fucked - I don't know how long - but for a good long while and then he raised his hands up and held my shoulders and his body shuttered from deep within. I could feel his muscles clinching and the tightness made me blow my load at the same time as he blew his. His cum was all over the two of us and mine was deep inside him. The sweat rolled of us and we both breathed as if we'd finished a long, hard, row with a sprint from hell.  

Once we'd recovered I told him "I'm not sending you home like that. Come get some coffee with me and I'll drop you at the dorm later." 

"It really was a horrible day - it wasn't just about this."

"I know. But you can't fuck away a horrible day. You wanna come chat about it?" 

"Yes. that would be good. I just hadn't had anything for a long while and I thought maybe..."

" I know. Let's shower and we'll talk about what's going on."