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CONFESSIONS OF A SOCCER PHYSIO - 3
AFTER
HOURS IN THE SOCCER GYM From: scott_justin51@hotmail.com
In
this series of memories that I am relating, I have started off by recalling
some of the more exciting episodes in my career as a soccer physio for one of
England first division teams. In
the early and mid-eighties, when some of my most enjoyable encounters
occurred, the first division was, of course, the equivalent of today's
premiere division. As I
explained
in the first part of this series, what was really remarkable about things then
- I don't know if things are quite the same now - was the ease with which I
had access to the players. I
mean, although nearly all of them had girlfriends or wives, it was rare indeed
for me to not score
with
whoever I chose when I set my mind to it.
They treated sex as uncomplicated and fun, and the tensions of the game
meant that there were dozens, literally dozens of opportunities to help young
and more experienced players alike to `develop their relaxation techniques',
as I liked to put it.
Anyway,
I am repeating myself I think, as I said this at the outset - but anyone who
is only picking up my story for the first time might want to go back to those
previous episodes.
I thought that today I might tell you about a really fantastic session I had
at the end of the day when I thought that I was all lone in the club training
gym. How wrong I was - I'm
pleased to say! The way the club
worked was that there was a duty physio, who was available after normal
training hours (we usually packed up for the day at about 6 pm).
This
meant that
any player who had a fitness problem, even something that developed
unexpectedly at home, could arrive at the club anywhere up to 9 in the evening
to see a physio. It was quite
unusual for this to happen, in fact, so I tended to use my duty evenings to
catch up on paperwork or
use the
gym myself for a workout.
On this particular evening the training session finished at about 5.30, and
soon after
6 the lads had showered and left. In
those days (this was 1982 I seem to remember) soccer players were not on
anything like the skyhigh salaries that are usual today, but it was
interesting to see how many of them still liked to present a stylish image to
their adoring public - there
would
regularly be a sizeable group of kids as well as older fans waiting at the
entrance to spot their favourite players as they arrived and left. So it was
rare for one of the boys to leave in anything but a good quality suit (maybe
not the designer Armani suits that would be expected today) and a sporty car
(but not a Ferrari). So there was
always a strong smell of
talc and
cologne in the air at the end of the day, as the boys got ready to shimmer off
into the early evening.
After they'd gone, I changed into a pair of dark blue satin shorts and
white
teeshirt for a session in the gym - nothing too strenuous today, I thought.
I decided not to put on briefs or a jock, as I liked to feel my cock
pressing against the cool satin, and I'd probably end up having a wank before
I left for home. I headed off to
the gym, and the door echoed
loudly
behind me as it swung shut. Just
then, I saw that I was not alone, which startled me for a moment as we have to
be constantly alert to security lapses. But
I relaxed as I saw that across the other side of the gym was one of our new
signings, who had joined us three weeks before at
the start
of the season. This was Jordan
James (yes, I've changed the name), a 19-year-old midfield player.
I had yet to get to know him in the way that I would have liked, as he
seemed rather shy and withdrawn, understandable enough though for a young lad
in a new club where he still
had to make his mark. He was a
handsome kid - medium height, dark
close-cut
hair, a perfect smooth body.
`Hi Jordan' I said.
`Hi.' He had changed from his
training strip into kit for the gym - like
me, he had
chosen satin shorts (his were pale green).
With these he wore a satin vest, and white socks and running shoes.
`I knew this was your evening on duty so I thought I'd catch a word.'
I tried not to jump to conclusions too soon, but this at least sounded
promising.
`Fine. That's what I'm here for. Any
problems?'
`Err, well, not really, umm...'
He
blushed quite deeply, and then started doing a couple of leg-stretching
exercises
to provide a distraction. I let
him take his time, by doing a couple of press-ups myself.
He tried again. `It was just
something a couple of the other lads were
saying to
me. That you had a particular way
of helping them get rid of tensions before and after matches.'
'Yes, that's right, I do.'
`Well,
er, I wondered...'
`You
wondered whether they were having you on?'
I was enjoying this, but I
needed to
take this very gently, I knew, because I could tell he was new to this, and
although he was so obviously fascinated and tantalised he could so easily back
off and withdraw.
I did a couple more exercises as I said.
`Oh, I don't think they were
making
things up - although of course I don't know what they told you.
It's
certainly true that I believe that certain forms of sexual release are
extremely beneficial before games, or, indeed' - and here I inserted a
dramatic pause - `at the end of a strenuous training session like today's.'
There was a tense silence, full of meaning.
`Are
you interested in trying things out?'
Pause.
`Maybe. That is, er, yes.'
He flushed again, which was fucking
horny,
exposing his vulnerability and nervousness, but signalling to me a clear
willingness to step over the edge.
I started off by taking another direction.
`Hey, nice shorts - satin
aren't
they, like mine? Sexier colour
though!'
He began to relax a bit. `Oh yes,
I really like them for working out in.
Quite
cool, and I like the softness.'
`Well I think they're fucking horny. Satin
and nylon, anything shiny and
soft like
that, turns me on at once. If I'm
wearing satin shorts, I cum in buckets!'
Jordan laughed. `Well, I've not
noticed them having that effect on me,
but..' he
paused.
`But there's always a first time, eh?'
He
cleared his throat. `Well, yes,
maybe.' I stepped forward, and
with my
knuckles
just lightly stroked the front of his chest through his satin vest.
It was cut very tight, more of a singlet than a vest actually with thin
shoulder straps revealing his naked shoulders. The feel of the soft warm satin
under my touch, even as lightly as this, was good.
He didn't
pull away
at all. Far from it, in fact. I
was surprised to find him moving slightly towards me, and closing his eyes as
he did so. He moved right up
close, and I realised that he wanted me to put my arms around him.
This was almost unknown - a lad getting into affectionate mode rather
than
wanting me
to get straight down to wanking him off.
I
took him lightly in my arms, and his satin vest pressed against my white
teeshirt.
Should I kiss him?
I desperately wanted to, but thought it was a big risk.
But he had initiated this, not me, so I thought I could go a bit
further. I started my bending my
knees a bit, and kissed his bare shoulder.
He didn't mind at all, and in fact bent his head back obligingly
so that my
next logical port of call could be his throat.
I kissed him there, and he felt great, warm and soft.
And then suddenly I was at his mouth, and he was with me all the way,
kissing back hungrily and eagerly.
My hands slipped down behind him to press his buttocks forward, and so I
made
contact for the first time with his shiny satin shorts.
God, they were sexy. His
firm apple buttocks filled my hands, and I pushed him into me as we kissed.
My cock grew steadily in my own dark blue satin shorts, which I pressed
lightly into the front of his green shorts, satin on satin,
making out
the firmness of him, a quiet resistance.
`I want you on the bench' I whispered, and he nodded and stepped backwards,
lying down
full length on one of the exercise benches which were about three feet off the
ground. This height meant that I
had easy access to him without having to indulge in too much bending (unless I
wanted to suck him off, that is. Unless!
Until, I should have said.)
With both hands now I began to explore his satin vest and shorts, always
from the
outside, caressing and stroking the soft fabric that felt so good on this
young soccer stud. My right hand
began to work on his shorts in earnest, and travelled over the front but
teasingly avoided his tempting bulge. I
could only keep off for so long, however, and rewarded my
self-control
at last by cupping the youngster's full satin- covered pouch. I massaged him,
the hardness of his cockmound meeting the resistance and softness of the
satin. I began to stroke more
insistently, trying to make out the shape of him, and could tell that his
packet of boymeat was trapped
beneath
the green satin shorts in something confining, presumably briefs.
That was
good. It would delay the
inevitable for me, allowing me to work on whatever he was wearing under those
hot shorts before eventually gaining access to his youthful nakedness.
I continued to stroke his swelling teenmeat, which throbbed and moved
beneath my
fingers but trapped in its confinement beneath the satin.
`You're
a big lad, Jordan.' I said. The
boys always liked to be told this, whether it was true or not.
In his case, he seemed gifted enough between his legs without sporting
a monster. `I love the feel of
your big juicy boycock under your sexy shorts.
And I can tell you are wearing briefs as well.'
To my surprise, he shook his head when I said this.
`Not briefs? Well,
something
nice and tight, certainly.' I
continued to feel the lad up as I said this, trying to work out what he was
wearing beneath the shiny satin. I decided to investigate further, but still
by touch alone, and removed my hand from the front of his shorts.
`Part your legs as wide as you can' I breathed softly.
At once he obliged,
which had
the effect of stretching the soft green satin tightly across his bulging
mound. I bent down then, and got
the musky odour of his hot throbbing boybulge in my nostrils, the sexiest
scent I know.
I flicked my tongue over the satin, like a snake tasting the
air, and then closed up
even
further and pressed my whole mouth over the teenager's fat packet.
My lips closed over the tightly-confined head of his cock, and I sucked
on the hard flesh through the material.
As I did so, I slid my hand up the leg of his shorts, under and upwards,
moving
towards his centre. And I could
now feel for the first time the soft stretched cotton of what I had assumed to
be briefs.
My hand expertly made out the ribbing of a jock.
Fantastic! A teen in a
bulging white sports jock. I now
knew that this was going to be some session.
I started to rub his erect cock through the cotton jock, and with my thumb
smeared
the slick precum which was already oozing from his tip through the thin
fabric. He moaned and squirmed on
the bench as I pleasured him, and I badly wanted to get working on his jock
with my mouth.
I eased the satin shorts downwards, but didn't entirely
remove them, and the hot swollen jock
came into
view. Through the thin white
cotton I could see the dark patch
of his
hair, and the shape of his now very stiff cock and his young balls were
clearly outlined. In particular,
I could make out the large mushroom head, wet and bulbous.
`Can I stand, please? I need to
stand' he said urgently.
`Whatever
you want Jordan. Up you get.'
He sprang off the bench and stood once again in front of me, and my hand
covered
his white jock packed with his teenage cockpouch.
He was fantastic, and really hot for it now.
I pressed and massaged the meaty packet, rubbing and stroking his full
length beneath the thin cotton.
`Oooh,
yeah, feel my cock mate. Give me
a good rub.'
I lightly frisked him through the jock, feathering the sensitive cockhead
with my
fingers but also taking in the length of the shaft.
He seemed to go for that in a big way, as his head went back,
and he put his hands on his hips. Then
I dropped to my knees in front of the youngster, as if in worship, and the
throbbing jock was in my face, damp and warm and
overpoweringly erotic. I closed
up, opened my mouth, and plunged the cotton-covered tip of the boymeat into my
mouth and sucked greedily on the glistening precum.
As I started to headbob him, he instinctively moved his hips back and
forth, and more of the trapped teencock pushed into my eager
mouth.
He
groaned loudly, but it wasn't enough for him. His hands came behind my
head and
pushed me harder and closer into the sodden jock.
`Yeah
man, suck that cock in my jockstrap. Feel
my hard cock in your mouth.
I want to
shoot my hot spunk man. Make me
do it, make me do it'.
This was incredible. I needed to
get his cock out of his jock and have his naked teenmeat in my mouth, so I
pulled at the side of his jock and opened it up a bit, and his cock flipped
out. It was a beauty.
Quite thick but long, with the foreskin pulled back in the fullness of
the boy's erection exposing a glorious glistening helmet, slick and shiny with
precum and ripe
for some
serious suck work. I grasped his
shaft and gently wanked him for a moment or two, enjoying the feel of the
warmth of the teenmeat under my fingers.
But that head needed my more immediate attention, and so I moved over
it and slipped his mushroom into my eager mouth.
The tang of his
juices and the tautness of his knob was delicious, and he gasped as I made
contact
for the first time with his hot cock.
`Oh
man, that's fucking great. Suck
that hot cock. Make me cum, I
want to
cum so
bad.'
I was pretty keen to shoot as well, but I knew that he was too lost in
himself
to even think about that, so instead I rubbed myself through thesoft blue
satin of my shorts, which were pretty stained with my freely-flowing precum
juices by now, I can tell you! The
tip of my cock
tingled
against the shining satin, and I was starting to breath quite
heavily.
Jordan's cock tasted sweet, and I drank greedily on the teenjuice.
I could feel him pulsing through the fleshy head, and I could tell that
the boy would soon be ready to explode. I
had to make a quick
decision.
Should I continue to suck him off until he came, or should I get
him to
shoot over his flat creamy stomach, or could I dare to hope that he might
enjoy pumping spunk in his jock?
And then the decision was taken out of my hands (and out of my mouth), as
Jordan
suddenly pulled back a bit so that I released his quivering teenmeat.
It swung in front of face, hard and throbbing.
With one hand he wanked himself fast, the other hand resting on his
buttock.
He bit his lower lip as he wanked off, concentrating hard.
For a moment, it looked as
if he was
going to stuff his boycock back into his damp jock, but there was no time, as
he arched his back and bucked and reared.
I watched every move intently, still masturbating myself in a
more leisurely way in my shorts.
`Oooh,
I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum!' he shouted.
`Come on then lad, give me your hot cum, shoot that creamy spunk.'
And then, at the last moment, he sat down on the bench, slipped the satin
shorts off
his feet and kicked off his running shoes.
He lifted his feet off the floor and parted his legs wide, so that he
was dressed only in satin vest, jock, and white socks.
His
balls were still contained in the jock, and he rubbed them with his
right hand
whilst wanking with the left. For
some reason, I became obsessed with the brilliant whiteness of the short socks
which matched the white of his jock. That
was my last thought, as the first spurts of the
soccerkid's
cum pulsed from the tip of his delicious cock.
More urgently
now, I
picked up my own wanking strokes, and then my warm spunk began to flood the
inside of my satin shorts, covering my fingers with cream.
It was a powerfully intense orgasm, and I could tell that Jordan too
was ecstatic. His teencum
splattered over the floor and bench in a glistening
pool.
He was still cumming for about ten seconds after I had finished, which
I thought was pretty impressive.
We rested for a minute or two. To
my surprise, Jordan then said `can I ask
someone to
join us next time?'
`I'd
love there to be next time Jordan, of course I would.
But who's the
friend?
One of the other lads? They
don't normally like to be that public.'
`No, err, it's a fan actually. I've
been getting letters from this young
lad, and
last time he included a hot picture. It
was fairly obvious from that what he was after.'
`God it sounds fantastic, but you must be careful Jordan.
There are some
real
weirdos out there who would be only too happy to compromise you and sell the
story to the papers.'
`That's why I thought I might involve you, maybe not here but somewhere
away from
the club. You would be able to
judge if I was getting in to deep, and we could have some fun too.'
`Well, I'm all for that. OK,
let's think about it, maybe not now as we
need to
clean up, but it sounds interesting. I
wouldn't mind seeing the letters.'
`And the picture?' He
smiled cheekily.
`Oh, certainly the picture!'
I'll tell you next time what all this led to...
TO BE CONTINUED
Please write to me at scott_justin51@hotmail.com in you are into shorts, jocks and briefs and the lads who fill them. |