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Arms flying past my head in a blur and my hand came up, my forearm a perfect 90 degrees with the ground and at my elbow before they fall quickly down and then behind me to make another perfect 90 degrees. This occurs with both of my arms in perfect synch with my legs as they push off the ground, the small 3/8 inch spikes stabbing into the rubberized track of recycled tires that made it immune to all weather.

Each step propelled me forward, my muscles straining, burning to stop. It felt so good. I pumped my arms faster. FASTER! that was the only thing on my mind as I took a breath in quickly, and let it out in a fast, rapid, but controlled pace. I had to keep the oxygen supply to my legs and arms up. The slightest falter would ruin the precisely tuned series of bodily movements that was sending me forward at a speed that a year ago, would have been impossible.

I was fat, blubber hanging off of me in massive love handles that were more like some disgusting rolls of sweaty weights that rolled over the top of my jeans and jiggled with each step. I had indulged in the sweeter things in life. No candy had escaped my sight and cakes vanished upon my arrival.

Walking up steps had been on ordeal, making feel as if my heart was going to burst like an Alien. I could barely make it through the day at school without sweating buckets and consuming twice the recommended calorie intake of someone twice my ungodly size. I was unhealthy and unhappy.

Now as I sweated from actual exercise and not the thought of walking home today, I felt more alive than ever. My heart raced and I could feel the endorphins rush through my veins that were no longer coursing with bacon bits and cholesterol.

"Faster. Pump those arms." Coach Waller yelled at me from the sidelines. His booming and authoritative voice drawing the attention of everyone on the field. All of the eyes were on me. "Don't slow down and lean at the end." He screamed at the top of his lungs, his massive paws clenching the small stopwatch in his hand which would have cost five dollars, but was worth so much more to me.

I kept my gaze forward, ignoring all of the eyes on me as a few people cheered me on, clapping and hollering for me to "SPRINT!" Sprint I did.

The narrow lane number 5 which I was in was my whole world. The meter and a half wide stretch of black rubber with the two white lines that acted as the border of this little world. Stepping over the lines was the equivalent of stepping over the edge of the world.

The finish line was getting closer, it was so near and yet so far away. The thin line that had a large and prominent five behind it. I had to get to it as fast as possible. It was all or nothing.

With a surge of forced energy that I would have to pay back two fold in the morning, I pushed myself even harder. I willed my arms and legs to go faster, to carry me away. It hurt so much.

The line was right there and yet it seemed as if it wasn't getting any closer. How long had I been sprinting, how long was this living hell going to last. My body felt as if it was falling apart. Had I pushed myself so hard that everything was shutting down?

No... I needed to make it across the line, so much depended on it.

It was right there. Suddenly the line was right there, just a few short steps away. I could reach out and touch it.

"LEAN!" Waller yelled so loud that his voice cracked.

I pushed my horizontal body forward at my aching abdomen to get my head a few precious inches forward in the hope that I could shave a millisecond off my time. Every moment counted. A single millisecond was the difference between first and second, going to state or going home. Moments were the determining factor in everything.

Suddenly there was no line anymore, just the black rubber beneath my pounding feet and the two lines that marked the borders of my world that began to curve around the track and would eventually loop and lead right back to me again.

Those lines were no longer my world. I had set myself free.

I began to dig my feet into the ground more with each step, slowing me down as I slowly began to go around the corner until I came to a complete stop and for a moment, a brief moment that barely registered, I felt on top of the world, then reality caught up.

It started with a slow burn in my chest that quickly spread to my arms and my legs. My lungs cried out for precious life giving sustenance and I couldn't gasp fast enough to satisfy them and they threatened me by telling my delirious brain that I was suffocating. Oh god, how everything seemed like it was ending and that I was going to die. No death came as I coughed and wheezed and forced myself to stand up tall and reach behind my back and interlace my fingers together to open up my lungs.

I took slow deep breaths, or rather, I tried to do. Each breath was staggered and broken, but slowly normalized. My body still hurt, but it was becoming more manageable.

"That was great!" Someone yelled from behind me and I turned to face the first person to come down to the finish line.

A smiling wolf came up to me and held up his hand for a high five. I really didn't want to give him one. It wasn't because I didn't like him, Harry was a great guy, I just knew that it would just compound and bring the subsiding pain back, but I went ahead and stuck up my hand.

The slap was loud and left a stinging sensation under my pads. The shock reverberated down my arm and a small spasm caused me to wince slightly.

"I think you may have done it." Harry nearly yelled, he was bouncing. "I think you did it." He was referring to the standard Coach Waller had. It was a simple thing, run the 100M in less than 12 seconds before the first meet and you got to run it. If you didn't, Coach would find some other place for you.

The old Cheetah was like that. While he was knowledgeable in all things Track and Field due to his twenty year career as the Kenningway High Track Coach and History teacher (yeah because that totally goes together), his love child was the 100M dash. He reveled in the fast, and controlled chaos of having people pour their heart and soul into such a short amount of time.

In high school, Coach Waller had run the 100M, 200M, 800M and the 6400M and went to state in all of them, taking 1st, 3rd, 5th and 7th in them respectively in the seventh grade. You can imagine how he did as a Senior. Though he had done nearly all of the running events and even a few throwing events during his high school career, he had loved the 100M the most. Being a cheetah which was what most of the state going athletes were, that was natural.

Track and field was like that. The cats ruled the sprints, the dogs ran the longer distances and the heavy weights such as bulls and horses dominated throwing. It was like this throughout the world. You never saw anything other than cats running the dashes in the Olympics and the opposite was true with other species, everyone had their place that nature had designed them for. So as a fox vying for a chance at the 100M I was not only going up against my body that had recently lost over one hundred pounds, I was going against evolution and god.

"Here he comes." Harry's grin faded as he looked at the Coach who was in shorts that belonged on a European beach and a tee that had the school logo of a Spartan helmet and two crossed spears on a round shield. That was us, the Spartans. Waller held the stopwatch in one hand and the clipboard in the other. "He doesn't look happy." Harry said and began to walk away. For someone who had never been in the military, Waller would have been able to convince anyone otherwise if he so chose to.

"He never looks happy." I said to Harry before he got out of earshot. He never did, he had this sort of scowl on his face. People joked that he could be Batman just by putting black face paint on. No one said that to his face, FYI.

"Joseph." Waller said in a voice that could have been used to strip paint off of a car from all of those years of yelling at people to run faster, throw farther and do better.

"Yes, Coach?" I answered, suddenly forgetting about my sore muscles. This was the moment, the first meet at Riverside was next week and after so much effort and practice, I would be able to tell if I would be able to run the 100M at an actual event, to actually compete.

"You did better than I thought." Did he compliment me? "Normally, most canines can't run this in under 14 seconds."

My heart skipped a beat as his eyes glanced up at me and he turned the stop watch to me.

12:23

I froze, and stared at the numbers that blinked in and out of existence. Was that my time? It couldn't be. No. Yes? Was it a trick? Waller did like to play pranks when he could. Maybe he had started the watch late and was going to tell me that it was actually fifteen seconds.

No. Waller wouldn't lie about this, not the 100M. If someone was good, he let them know. If they were shit, he let them know as well, in a slightly louder volume that would bring tears in copious amounts. Poor Arnold, never had a chance.

"This is very good." Waller said, breaking the spell that had been set upon me. "It's not sub 12, but very workable." He was being serious and talking to me so I looked up at him.

"Does this mean?" I tried to ask the question that would either confirm my dreams or crush them. It was my Senior year, this was my only chance to do this. I didn't want to run the mile like where the rest of the "rejects" went. Sorry Harry. I wanted to run the 100M, I wanted to prove to all of the people, the jocks, the cheerleaders, even the D&D group that I wasn't some useless lard. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do the impossible.

"Possibly." Waller said and put the watch back into his pocket now that it had done its job. "It all depends on if you can shave more time off."

"I can." I jumped. "The meet isn't until next week. If I run everyday..." I clenched my hands and the tendons that went up my arm hurt, reminding me that such things were not recommended. I had been running so much and it was pushing my body to its limits, too much change had happened too fast and I was still adjusting.

"I won't deny it." Another compliment in my books. "I want you to stop by my office after practice and I'll give you a few tips on how to improve your performance." He nodded once and walked away to go yell at everyone to get back to practice and stop looking at me.

The small crowd of people that had watched me run and cheered me smiled at me, nodded and went back to their events. I went to the bench and fetched my bottle of water that I desperately needed. I took a few greedy gulps of the warm water and set it down as Harry came back over now that Coach was busy getting the relay team ready for a run.

"Holy shit." He grinned and sat next to me and took his own water bottle. "You really did it?" He asked and took a swig.

I couldn't help but smile myself, but had to remind myself that Coach was willing to work with me, but hadn't actually put me on the 100M. "Not yet, but I'm very close."

"What was your time?"

"Twelve-twenty-three." I said slowly.

"DaAmn." He slapped my shoulder. "That's great. You're faster than some of the cats that were vying for a spot on the 100M. Slashed their hopes." He made a cutting motion with his hands towards a group the relay team that was made exclusively of cats.

"Don't make me sound like a villain." I joked and nudged him. It was something that the dogs and cats did to each other all of the time, found every opportunity to make fun of them. It was only natural and I was about to cross those boundaries.

"What happens now?" Harry asked more seriously now that the joking was aside. "Do you just keep running and hope to get better or..."

"Coach Waller asked me to come to see him after practice." I answered. "Said he wanted to give me a few pointers."

"You mean that you might become the prodigy?"

The prodigy was one athlete that Coach personally took under his wing each season. He would take time out of his day, beyond practice and work with the student to help them improve their performance. This after hours program always worked. No one who had been a "prodigy" failed to place top half in state, no matter what the event was.

"I doubt it." I scratched at my ears. The weather was dry and I needed to shower to get the dried, salty sweat off of me, it was making me itchy. "I think he'll work with me just this week to see if I can't get under 12 seconds and meets his standards."

"I don't know." Harry said. "He seemed more excited about you than anyone else."

"Did he?" I didn't notice. Coach Waller was an active person around me. He joked at times when it was appropriate, but could easily switch to a more serious man that everyone else seemed to know him as.

"Yeah." Harry nodded. "Must be because no dog had made his 100M team in a decade. How he would love to see the face of the other Coaches when you beat their cheetahs." We both laughed and continued to joke until Harry had to go and work on his 400M and then finish the day with a 1600M.

I stayed on the sidelines, since the 100M was currently the only thing I had to work on. I watched for the next half hour as the rest of the team worked on their events. Coach Waller made his rounds, making sure to get to each event at least once and give some pointers. I thought about going down and getting another run in, but I decided against it when it became obvious that Coach wasn't going to make me do anything else.

At 5:30 everyone stopped, put away their equipment and headed either for the showers or their cars to go home. I waited on the track for Coach since he was always the last person off the field to make sure everything had been put away properly.

My ears perked up as the jaguar motioned me over to the football goal posts where Coach was throwing a few wrongfully discarded bottles into a plastic bag to be taken to the dumpster.

"Ready for some extra instruction." He said and set the bag down next to the metal pole of the goal in such a way that the wind wouldn't blow it over.

"Yes, Coach." I was excited and a bit unsure. Sure, I was going to get some one on one with a man who was legend in the track and field community. I told you about him making it to state as a freshman. As a senior, he made nothing but first place and set several state records, the records he had set the previous year. I was now in the presence of a legend. Before, he had been a demanding, but credible Coach that gave his time to everyone. Then, he was Coach, now he was the the god of track that was personally instructing. Can't blame me for being nervous.

"We have a week to shave about a third of a second off of your time." Coach Waller knelt down and picked up the starting blocks. A heavy piece of metal with two adjustable foot pads that allowed a runner to launch themselves out of the starting line. It was essential in the 100M. "I notice that your start is somewhat slow, let's begin there."

I didn't think that I was going slow out of the blocks, but when the start lasted less than a second and your mind was on nothing else but running, it was hard to remember exactly how I did.

Coach led me to the start line and set down the blocks. He told me to set them up how I liked which I did. I started with my left foot forward since I was left dominant and could put more force with that foot. When I was done, I looked at Coach who was watching intently. With no other people to scrutinize other than me, his gaze watched me like a hawk and a bead of sweat formed at my brow. I didn't want to disappoint him, not now.

"Go ahead and let's see a start." He said, it felt like an order.

I stood in front of the blocks and shook out my arms to release the tension.

"Runners to your marks." Coach yelled out just as if her were starting a race.

I knelt down and stretched my legs back until they went into the blocks, slowly walking myself back with my hands until I was in a tight, crouched position, ready to spring out.

"Set!"

I lifted my but into the air, my normally flamboyant and fluffy tail stuck straight out, parallel to the ground for aerodynamics.

"Go!"

I didn't even take one step before Coach stopped me.

"No." He shook his head. "No, that won't do." His demeanor was very serious and his voice more gruff than normal. " You're standing up right away. All of that energy is being released too early and wasted to get yourself upright." He walked up to me and looked down. He was tall, much taller than me. I could smell the sweat on him.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked, genuinely wanting to know how I could improve my performance.

He grinned. "Don't stand up right away. Let yourself come up slowly over the course of several steps." He set a hand on my shoulder. "Try it again."

I got back into the blocks, but this time he stopped me at set as I stuck by rear into the air.

"Too high." He yelled and walked over behind me and grabbed me by my hips.

I let out a meep at the unfamiliar groping as Coach man handled my rear, his fingers digging and kneading into my delicate rump that was still sensitive after losing so much weight. He brought my hips down and for a moment, I thought I felt something grind into me, but before I could say anything, he let go of me.

"Keep your hips about this high. Remember this." He walked back to his position in front of me and raised his hands up. "SET!" He yelled.

Not moving from my already perfected position, I stayed still, waiting for him to let me run.

"GO!" He yelled and brought both arms down, slapping his hands against his side.

I pushed myself out of the blocks, making my first step out a long one. I remembered to stay low, slowly bringing myself up.

I ran twenty meters, knowing that there was no point in running the full length when we were just working on starts.

"Better." He had his arms crossed and nodded. "But, you're still slow out of the blocks." He walked over to the blocks and made a few quick adjustments to them before getting into them. "You want to be explosive and quick to get an early lead. You're prolonging your start to propel yourself forward. You need to explode, not propel."

I watched as he got into the ready position, set and then he became a black and red blur from his fur and the Spartan school logo on his shirt. He was so fast and had put so much force into the his start that the blocks were launched ten feet behind him.

He sprinted hard and fast for the same distance as me, but in half the time. He truly was a track god.

"See." He was breathing a bit heavily from suddenly running after just Coaching. "Explode."

"Explode." I repeated and ran to the blocks to fetch them.

The night started to grow long as I practiced more and more to perfect what would end up being only one second of the race, there was a long way to go after this.

The entire time Coach would use his hands to guide me into the correct position, though his grabs always seemed to be focused on my rump and were slowly creeping towards the opposite side. I didn't say anything. He was my Coach and it was impossible to tell me exactly how high my ass should be in the air or how my body should be positioned without him positioning them for me. Even then, his touches weren't entirely unwelcome, but the boner was and it was becoming hard to run and hide it since Coach's eyes never left me.

Then there was also his voice. It took me awhile to notice, but his normally gravelly voice had gone soft. His voice cooed and caressed me as he instructed me on the specifics on how I should move my body, everything from my arms, legs and hips while running to get maximum efficiency. He seemed to get enthralled by his small lectures as he once again used his hands to guide me through the motions. These really were one on one sessions.

"That's enough for tonight." Coach looked at his watch. "Getting late and I'm sure your parents would like you back."

"Oh, shit." I realized that I had never called my parents to tell them I was coming home late. I looked around for where my phone could be. I spotted my backpack on the bleacher.

"No worry." I called them shortly before practice was over, they aren't expecting you until nine.

"It's only seven." I said. "Why stop now."

"Can't have you too exhausted." He may have winked, I wasn't sure with the poor lighting from the lights that were shining down on the field and track. "Plus a little extra time never hurt."

I grabbed my stuff and headed into the locker room to change, I would take a shower back home since I only lived half a mile away and with the sun going down, it wasn't hot any more.

"Why don't you take a shower." He said as he stripped off his shirt, exposing his well chiseled and finely toned body to me. There wasn't an ounce of fat on his muscular body that rippled with each motion. I looked away with a blush, my tail flickering and twisting in excitement. I couldn't take a shower, not with what was hiding in my pants. "You've been sweating all day, and that isn't good for your fur." He kept talking with his back turned to me as he stripped down.

I tried to avert my eyes, but couldn't as his perfect, black and silky smooth rear was exposed.

This was so wrong. Technically he wasn't even supposed to be here, changing when students were, it was against school policy and yet here he was as if he had done it for years.

He kicked his shorts off to the side, letting me glance a pair of hefty orbs that dangled between his lean thighs.

I bit my lip hard enough to draw a small amount of blood, blood that was going to rush to my nether regions that were inflaming in lust.

Coach didn't seem to take notice as he walked into the shower room, out of sight. I heard the sound of a squeaky faucet and then rushing water.

Should I? Shouldn't I? He did invite me, though it wasn't as suggestive as all of those touches earlier on the track. He was straight forward with his comment. Was he gay? I think he's married, but now that I thought about it, no one ever talked about a Mrs. Waller. Was he like this with all of the other athletes that he instructed? There were so many variables.

"No thanks." I said sheepishly. "My house isn't far from here and I got a shower there." I yelled and he replied back.

"Suit yourself, need a ride?"

"No thanks." I got into my normal clothes, a yellow tee and some jeans. I set one strap of my backpack onto my shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"OK, see you then." I sensed a bit of disappointment. Was it and invite? "Don't forget to work on your form."

I left and began to walk home. I took a shower and laid in my bed thinking about what had happened that day. Had Coach come on to me? Or was he just like that when he was instructing and helping individuals since he needed to get more in depth to properly teach.

The next day went by fast. I went to school and went to each class, all the while being hoarded by the rest of the team about what it was like to be taught by a god. I told them the truth, but not the whole truth. I left out the touching and the locker room, they didn't need to hear about that. No one did.

When it came time for practice, I avoided Coach and got my warm up lap and stretches done before pulling out some blocks. I practiced everything I learned and was astonished at just how much faster I was feeling.

"One night with Coach and you're suddenly an Olympian." Harry walked over. He sweating after finishing his long distance warm up of a slow mile."You were a blur."

"Coach really knows his stuff."

"No shit." He chuckled. "Though you two haven't said anything to each other since practice started." He looked at Coach who was yelling at a pair of rhinos who were messing around instead of practicing shot put. "Something happen."

"No." I lied. "I'm staying after again so there's no reason for him to come over when others need help."

"Makes sense. I'll let you at it then."

"Gotta make it below twelve."

"The magic number."

Harry left me to continue my starting practice which I did slowly until the end of practice came. Once again I stayed after while everyone else said their jealous goodbyes to me and once again, Coach was there by the goal post.

"Ready." He said as if nothing had may have happened last night which got me thinking that he didn't mean anything by his touches and the locker room.

"Always ready." I said enthusiastically, pushing the disturbing thoughts out of my head. I needed to work on my run and focused on that.

"Show me a start first." He said and handed me a set of blocks which I took and set up just like I had last night.

"Runners to your marks."

I got into the blocks, my head down, my hands aligned with the back of the start and my head down in concentration. My heart fluttered and beat heavily with anticipation. I always got like this before a run.

"To your marks."

I raised my rear end exactly as I was taught, not so high that I was putting energy into keeping myself up there, but not so low that my legs were cramped and couldn't explode when needed.

"GO!" He yelled and I exploded out of the blocks with as much force as I could. I kept low, slowly raising myself over the course of roughly eight meters until I was fully upright. I ran another ten before slowly coming to a stop and looked over my back at Coach who had a look of approval on his face.

"Very nice." He clapped in praise. "You were listening." His voice went soft just like before. "Now it's time to work on form."

The rest of the night was spent on just how to sprint properly to ensure every movement was deliberate and used precisely the amount of energy that was needed to get me from point a to b as fast as possible without burning out. I began to feel as it I was taking some sort of college class with how much information was thrown my way.

Eventually I was allowed to run and after each run, Coach would show me what I did right and what I did wrong. His hands took hold of my arms, not forceful, but leading them through the proper motions as his head was next to mine, almost whispering into my ears. "You see if you pump this way, you get to your climax faster, allowing you to maintain for much longer." His body was right up against mine and I got a better smell of him this time. There was a woody scent hidden under the musky smell of man sweat that radiated off of both of us. It was nauseating and no matter how much I told myself that he was my Coach and it was wrong, I wanted it more and more.

"Use those arms." Coach yelled as I ran past him. I applied everything I was taught that night as I crossed the finish line, leaning without needed to be told and coming to a slow halt. My body hurt so much. I had sprinted half a mile at this point.

I wheezed and coughed up, trying to fight back the urge to vomit as well as Coach ran up to me with a wide grin on his face. "It was slow, but you're tired." He said. "Though everything else is perfect." He then hugged me.

I was so shocked as his warm embrace took a hold of me. My face was buried in his chest fur since he had taken off his shirt earlier due to the heat. His smell invaded my nostrils. At first, it would have been revolting to smell such a strong musk in such a concentrated form, but over the course of the day, I got small amounts that I was beginning to like and crave.

Our bodies pressed up against each other tightly as he lifted me off the ground. This was new side to Coach that I didn't think could exist. He squeezed and my crotch ground up against his own from the action. I let out a muffled gasp as my sheath wall pulled back inside of my trousers and the tip of my dick spread pre around.

I was set down and Coach smiled. "That's enough for today, go get changed."

I nodded with my hands over my crotch. In hot weather, people didn't wear thick shorts, they wore thin material clothes that revealed everything. I turned away and went back inside into the locker room. Coach didn't follow me in.

Today had been a hard day since I had ran so much vs just multiple starts from the previous day and I was sore. A shower didn't sound so bad to let the warm water wash away such pains.

I stripped down entirely and went into the shower. The tip of my pink cock was just barely poking out of my sheath where I hoped it would stay. I didn't know if Coach was going to be coming or not, part of me wanted him to.

I turned on the faucet and let it run for a few seconds to get the cold water out of the pipes before stepping under the stream.

It felt so good as the water flowed through my fur, washing away the work of the day. I stood there for a minute, failing to hear the door open and close.

"Didn't bring shampoo."

I sucked in a breath at the sound of Coach's voice. He was right behind me. I was so relaxed and out of it, that I didn't hear him walk right up behind me... naked.

"Water alone isn't enough." He said slowly as fingers worked into the fur on my sides and lightly scratched at me. Looking down I saw that he was lathering shampoo into my fur.

His muzzle slid in next to my ear. "I can stop anytime." He said. "Just say so and this will all end, I'll keep teaching and you'll get to state. I won't take that away from someone who has put in the effort."

I listened as his fingers worked down to my thighs, cleaning and massaging. My body tingled at being touched by unfamiliar hands.

"You thought about it yesterday. You thought about the shower." I didn't say anything. " You almost came in, I saw how you looked at me undressing. They all look." He must have been talking about all of the other athletes that he had instructed personally. "Though not all of them accepted this." He squeezed at the base of my tail, eliciting a slight moan. "Will you?"

I didn't answer at first and his roaming hands didn't go anywhere else, but his body was so close to mine. I could feel the heat, beyond the shower water, radiating off of him. I could smell him again and now he was letting me choose how much more I could experience without any threat, everything was in my hands.

I wanted it.

I nodded and leaned back into him and a hefty chuckled echoed across the tiled room.

The hands began to creep more. One slid between my cheeks where it rubbed up and down my taints while the other skirted around my thighs to my sheath.

I had never done this before. My weight had kept me from dating because I was self conscious, but now with this athletic body... The thoughts became blurry and gentle fingers pulled back the sheath and revealed my aching tool.

"You run quite well with a boner." He complimented me and traced the veins as I squirmed in his presence. His hand on my taint slowly moved back towards my entrance, teasing the virgin hole. I watched porn, but the thought of the action made me uneasy.

"Don't worry." Coach said as I tried to scoot away and the hand by my cock wrapped itself around my chest and pulled me right onto him. "Just like during practice, let me guide you."

I sucked in a breath as his finger, lubed from the water and sweat of my taint, slowly pushed itself into me. It hurt at first, burning as it was forced open and he got past the first knuckle.

"Just relax." He cooed into my ear, his tongue flecking out and touching my ear as he spoke. He pushed a little harder until his entire finger was inside of me. Then he began to push another one in, just as slowly. "Tell me if it hurts."

"It's good." I said, though it really did hurt. I had never been stretched like this. I focused on his heartbeat which I could feel on my back, I concentrated on the hot water coursing over my tired body as I was held to Coach.

He slid his fingers in and out, working me as my boner continued to rage and spill out sticky pre that was flowing down my cock and matting in my fur. Each push in rubbed his fingers against my prostate that sent jitters up my spine and caused me to send smalls jets that landed on the wall in front of me.

"Ready for what's next?" Coach asked me and I nodded. I knew what was coming, sort of. I had never seen what he was packing, but when I felt his fingers leave me, giving me a feeling of emptiness which was replaced with something much thicker that pressed against me, I had a good idea of what to expect.

"I'll go slow. If it's too much..." He reminded me and waited for a response.

"I'm ready." I begged him. I needed this. I had gone so long without any intimate touch in my life. I had never thought about it much due to my weight, but now that I was being touched... loved, I realized just how much I wanted this.

He pressed forward slowly and I was met with a reminder about biology. His tip was covered with barbs that grabbed at me and pulled, pricked. It was an unusual sensation as he forced himself about halfway, his barbs now raking against my insides.

A hand grabbed my thigh while the other grabbed my cock which had been spilling its contents ever since this began and began to pump on both ends.

He pushed in and out, going a bit deeper each time. I gasped every time his hips pushed forward, getting closer to my own with each pump. He was already pressing against my prostate and there was still much to go.

I leaned forward and rested my elbows against the wall and looked down at our feet. Coach's black feet were right behind my gray paws, creating a multicolored four legged beast of sorts. I watched as my toes curled in pleasure as the pace picked up and the cat's cock finally hilted, his hips thrusting forward and slapping against my ass.

A growl escaped Coach as he went fast and faster. His hands now working my shaft expertly, using my pre to shlcik up and down my length, working the tip and my knot that was quickly swelling in size. He rubbed his hands all over it, pulling at my base and tickling the tip with his claws. I wasn't going to last much longer at this pace.

I began to buck back as he thrust forward, colliding our bodies with enough forces to jar me slightly.

I was tensing up with each passing moment, I was going to blow at any moment with both ends being worked.

I reached back with one hand and grabbed a handful of the luxurious black fur, urging him to go faster and faster he did go. He hammered into me as fast as he could go, his fine tuned muscles that were built for quick action showing their worth.

My balls tensed up as I gave out a howl. I just couldn't hold it in.

Coach, hearing me, wrapped his hand around the base of my shaft, pulled at my knot to simulating a tying and got me to fuck his hand. The first pulse was the most satisfying orgasmic action I had ever experienced as a glob of heavy, thick and white cum shot right into my face which was followed by several others that marked the walls and my chest. The cum just didn't seem to end as years of neglect was released in a shower of ecstasy.

Even as I petered out, Coach kept going at my rear, he was going as fast as he could, approaching his own climax as his grip on me tightened. He pulled me tightly to his body as he let out a yowl and pressed his crotch right into me.

I felt his cock kick up with so much force that I thought that he would be able to lift me off of the ground, but his grip kept me firmly planted as he emptied the contents of his hefty orbs into me, spraying my walls with his seed. I felt each pulse as if they were from a fire house.

Being an older and more sexual exercised individual, his load easily dwarfed my own. His head pressed into my shoulder, he was fighting the urge to give me a mating bite. How would he explain that to anyone? Instead he pressed his forehead into my shoulder and growled loudly as his own ejaculations came to an end.

He held onto me as we breathed heavily and let the water cascade over our intertwined bodies.

Gave a chuckle and licked the side of my face, his rough tongue pulling at my fur as he did so. "You got some stamina there. Ever think about going into long distance."

"I don't..." I gasped, still tired from both the running at the glorious sex. "I don't think that now is the time."

"Your right." He hugged me more tightly, his softening member still inside of me. "We'll focus on your 100M first."

He slid out of me, those bars pulling at my hole as if they didn't want to leave. The cum that had been trapped deep inside of me spilled out onto to floor where it was quickly washed away down the drain.

We silently changed, he was faster since I now had an aching backside. It would be easy to make an excuse for that since I had been running so much and everyone knew that.

Coach offered me a ride back which I took. We talked about track and field, not once mentioning our act, but the after effects were evident. We chatted like old friends as he dropped me off at my house. I took another quick shower with a scented shampoo to get rid of any of Coach's smell. A little bit of his smell was manageable, the amount that was on me needed to be taken care of fast.

After the shower, I ate dinner, told my parents about how good I was feeling about track and went to sleep. The meet was in less than a week and I still had a far way to go, but with Coach there to help, I knew that I could go to state.

-Several Months Later-

I had butterflies in my stomach as I stared down the long 100M from where I was. I was in a brand new uniform with the same old logo. The stands were filled with people including my parents who waved at me and I waved back.

"Runners to your marks." A raccoon in a bright orange, safety vest and striped shirt raised one had in the air and had the other, which had a .22 filled with blanks horizontal yelled out.

I jogged out in front of my blocks that were being held by Harry since once teammate was allowed to do that. I jumped a few times to stretch out my legs before I kneeled down and walked myself into the blocks. I set my spiked shoes into each of the blocks and rested my hands right behind the start line. I kept my head down and thought about everything I had been taught. How to exit the blocks, how to run, and how to finish. Everything had led up to this moment, I was fighting for the last position to state.

"Set!" I heard the raccoon cry out and I looked up. The raccoon had both arms up, the gun raised high up to the air and pulled back the hammer. My eyes quickly scanned the area around me and I spotted him. Coach was looking right at me and he had a look on his face that I couldn't make out from this distance.

I refocused on the race, I couldn't have any lapse in concentration. This was it.

There was no go like in practice.

The bang didn't startle me, nor did I anticipate it since that caused false starts and disqualifications.

I exploded out of the blocks so perfectly that someone would be hard pressed to find a single error. Months, for months I had fine tuned every part of the run, down to each muscle twitch.

I stayed low for the first ten meters, pumping my arms fast to get my legs to move just as fast. I went through the motions, willing myself to go faster and faster, to never slow down.

Coach had taught me one thing that he was adamant about. "If I could stand in the end, I was doing it wrong." I had to pool absolutely everything into this, pushing my body to its boundaries.

My legs pushed me forward at a speed that would have been impossible for me at the beginning of the season, but now it was standard for me thanks to Coach's close mentoring everyday. He told me exactly what I needed and gave me what I wanted as well. In return, I did the same.

Suddenly I found myself leaning forward as I crossed the finish line. Was it over already?

I slowed down to a stop and then the pain set it, a pain that I knew very well, but would never get used to as I pushed myself to the very edge.

I teetered and began to waver as strong arms caught me and the familiar smell of sweat and musk wafted over me.

"How'd I do?" I asked Coach.

"Just fine. Just fine." He answered and he had a tone of voice that brought back the image of his look right before the run. It was a look of absolute confidence in me.

"Shouldn't even have to ask, right?"

"Nope, but if you're curious, how does 10:32 and first place sound."

Sounded just fine to me.