ADAM'S NYLON BRIEFS
By JUSTIN SHORTS - scott_justin51@hotmail.com
I couldn't believe my luck when I landed this job as physio to the youth academy of one of our top English league teams - since the creation of the Premiere league, it has always featured in the top 3 or 4 clubs. Most English clubs have this policy of nurturing young talent, obviously as a way of bringing on likely players to join their senior team in due course. (I give this background detail for the benefit of my non- English readers, and those with no special knowledge of soccer.) There's nothing more satisfying than to see the burgeoning talent of young lads who are hoping to become professionals. Sadly, not many of them make it, maybe no more than 5%. A regime of fitness is of course crucial, so physio sessions are built in to the structure of their day. My job is as much about preventing injury as coping with it once it's too late.
Before new players for the senior team, and new recruits for the youth academy are signed up, one of the first things they have to do is present themselves for medical and physio assessments. It's one of the most interesting parts of my daily work, trying to work out whether there is some kind of ideal physique that indicates a new player of genius in the making. And it's a great way of eyeing up the talent in a wider sense, if you get my drift. Anyway, during the first month that I had this job, there were no new boys recruited, but then I was alerted by the manager that a kid was being assessed the following week and that I needed to be on standby to give him the once- over on the physio side. I can't tell you his real name - he is now a major English star, in fact the star of his generation - but I'll call him Adam Beechey. Anyone who knows anything about English football will immediately recognise who I am talking about here. He was 16 when we first saw him, and there was never really any doubt that he would be signed on. He was an incredible natural talent.
The first time I set eyes on Adam I knew he was special. Forget the football talent - I'm talking about looks and personality. He was very shy, but with real natural charm. His hair was light sandy brown, though nowadays he is blond most of the time. He was as strikingly handsome then as he is now - except that I suppose he was more cute then. That first day I gave him the usual checkout, and we agreed that he was in perfect shape. He was quickly signed up.
I did not have cause to see him again for a week or two. I think I had been called in by the youth academy coach to watch a training session to keep an eye out for any potential problems. I was pleased to see that Adam was running easily, but there did seem to be some awkwardness when he came to kick across the field from his left foot. I suggested to the coach that we pulled him out so that I could take a quick look at him, and maybe try massage. He agreed at once, and called Adam across and explained what I wanted to do. Adam nodded when I suggested that we go to my physio room, and we strolled across to the main building, chatting. I asked him how he was settling it, and what his digs were like. He seemed happy enough on the surface, but I sensed that he was a bit homesick for the south of England.
When we got to my room, I suggested that he sat on the bench so that first we could talk through how he was feeling, and whether he was noticing any muscular stresses. By the way, I forgot to say, he was wearing the standard summer practice session stuff for the academy lads - white t-shirt and pale blue tracksuit bottoms. We continued to talk for a bit about his family. I was entranced by him, he was so fresh and open and seemed to be relaxing in my presence by the minute.
'Well, we'd better get down to some work, Adam' I said. 'Lie back, and let's see if we can find out if there are any tension points.' He did so, and I began to press his chest through the t-shirt.
'Why not slip the tracksuit down, so I can check thighs and legs'. At once he pushed the bottoms off, and revealed what I knew would be underneath, the regulation pair of soft white cotton briefs that are issued to all the lads. I had seen this moment hundreds of time before, of course, but it never failed to stir me. Adam looked a wonderful combination of sexiness and innocence, in his white briefs and t-shirt, lying quietly on the bench.
I spent some time checking his legs and thighs, but was careful not to touch his briefs. Not yet. Not today.
'Well, everything seems fine. You need to develop a regime of relaxation exercises, along the lines I was explaining to you all last week. Have you begun to do so?'
'Yes, sir.' I liked it when they started off calling me sir! It didn't take long though for them to start using my first name.
'Good. Look, it's not the sort of thing I can say in front of everybody, so I usually wait until I see people individually. But part of that regime is, well, your sexual development too.'
He flushed and looked straight ahead, not wanting to catch my eye.
'Can I ask if you have a girlfriend?'
'No-one special at the moment' he said quietly.
'OK, fine, so any sex you have is solo, yes?'
'Mmm, yes, I guess so. Why do you want to know?'
'It helps me to help you with your personal regime. Wanking is fine, an essential part of relaxation and relief of tension. I have found ways with most of the senior team to help them with their technique.' He looked at me now and smiled.
'Really? You talk to them about wanking?'
'Of course. Why not? We all do it, don't we? And sometimes, we don't stop at talking about it...'
There was a pause. The silence was electric.
'Look, let's leave it there for today, shall we. Slip your tracksuit back on and get back to the pitch. But if you would like to follow this up with me, then why not call in here tomorrow afternoon after practice. Make sure you wear something that you feel sexy in. But I guess that could be pretty well anything, eh Adam?' I laughed and he blushed again, and then he hurried off.
The memory of the young footballer lying back in briefs and t-shirt stayed with me, and I brought it to mind later that evening as I changed to go out. But it came back into my consciousness even more intently some hours later, after I had returned to my flat with the young waiter I had had my eye on for some time and who finally accepted my invitation to come home for a drink after he had finished his shift. Before the evening was over he was bent over the washbasin in my bathroom, gripping the taps in his hands, his white shirt lifted high up his back and his waiter's trousers shucked round his ankles. I had slipped his black silk boxers to the side without removing them altogether and had worked my hard cock up into his tight hot hole. My tight nutsack rubbed against the slick silkiness of those sexy black boxers as I began to drive into him, and we both groaned with lust. He was a fantastically hot shag, but as I reached the ferment of my orgasm the image that filled my mind was once again young Adam from earlier in the day, smiling up at me shyly in t-shirt and briefs. As I brought him quite deliberately to mind the floodgates erupted and I pumped my cum into the waiter whilst wanking him feverishly into the basin. The strange thing is that, when it comes down to it, I enjoy wanking or sucking a boy off far more than I do fucking him. Tonight was pure lust - I needed to possess the waiter in an almost animal way, but afterwards on my way home in the taxi I was able to rationalise things to the extent that I knew what had really turned me on was the cool black silk sliding against my cock, not that fact that I was inside him. Odd isn't it. I never wanted to be that way with the lads at the club - there I wanted something far more seductive and gentle - a relationship based on genuine trust.
The next day started off like any other, except that I found it hard to concentrate on my routine duties as I kept thinking ahead expectantly to later that afternoon. After practice I headed back to my office which led directly off the physio room. I made a point of changing into a pair of my favourite black silk briefs and over them wore white nylon shorts. Adam was not long in arriving, having changed out of his day- time practice gear into his own casual clothes. This boy had taste and style - something which we would all come to notice in later years. Even at 16 he had flair - and expensive tastes! This afternoon he was wearing a cream silk shirt and pale blue jeans - the kind which sold themselves on looking stylishly well-worn. Together the clothes seemed ideally to pick out the soft blue-grey of his eyes and the floppy mop of hair that was characteristic of him as a boy. I was not used to this sartorial assurance from the academy students.
Adam came through the physio room and knocked on my door, which I opened at once. I have a bench in my office, for the more intimate treatments, where I can be sure that I will not be interrupted. Adam seemed at once far more relaxed than the previous day, and the fact that he had turned up at all was of course indication of a decision that he had made. It was all down to me now to make the right moves and not frighten him off, and I was seriously worried about that as I was so keen to get inside his jeans.
We talked casually for a bit, and I got him to sit on the side of the bench, but not to lie down. I spoke again on the subject of relaxation techniques, and sat alongside him on the bench. 'There are all kinds of ways to ease tension and train the mind to deal with anxiety and physical stress', I said, 'but, you know, it's still true that one of the best is masturbation. It's important that we develop our techniques even in something that most of us just take for granted.'
Adam listened carefully, and nodded.
'Would you like me to suggest some effective techniques? I'd need to show you, of course.'
There was the faintest of hesitations, and then he nodded again.
'OK'. I tried to sound as matter of fact as I could. 'Just go with me on this, though of course if you feel uncomfortable in any way you should stop me. The whole point is to make you relaxed, not more tense!'
He laughed, then said, 'sure, go ahead.' And as if to invite me further, he relaxed from the upright sitting position by leaning back on his elbows.
I needed no further invitation. But I asked one further question. 'When did you last cum?'
He blushed, but did not hesitate in his answer: 'yesterday, when I got home.
I would have had a wank this morning but I wanted to, er, to save it, I suppose.'
'Excellent idea.' Excellent indeed! I had high expectations now of milking a copious load of fresh boyspunk from him before long. I got off the bench and stood in front of him, between his legs which he parted so that the soft fabric of his faded jeans stretched tightly over his crotch, showing a promising bulge. 'Hey, looks like things are beginning to stir already, Adam', I laughed. He smiled, and lay back further. I decided that for the moment I would leave the cream silk shirt alone, and start with the jeans - the shiny silk was so sexy and I was looking forward to seeing his hard young cock quivering against the material. So I rested my hands gently on his upper thighs, and began softly to massage them through the denim, moving steadily upwards as I did so, so that my fingers soon began to brush his crotch. I was pleased to see that the jeans had a zip fly rather than buttons - I don't know why, but I find the sensation of slowly easing down a lad's zipper one of the most exciting parts of the whole game. My hands moved over the front of him, that now burgeoning secret centre, and I began to press and feel the shape of him. That familiar softness of a hardening boycock constrained through clothing made me catch my breath. I looked up at him and smiled encouragingly, and he smiled back and once again gave a faint nod.
With the forefinger and thumb of my left hand I reached for the top of his zip, and tugged gently. It moved easily, and began its slow journey downwards. Adam suddenly reached forward and I feared he was going to pull my hand away, but instead he flipped open the single button at the top of his jeans so that they loosened. Once his fly was halfway open, I teased the flap open and made out bare flesh and the first curls of his pubic hair. I slid first three fingers, then my whole hand gently into the opening, and there was moment of electric tension as I first made contact with his warmth. I reached down with my fingers and felt the thin waist band of the top of his briefs, and then slid my fingers along the outside of the band to try to detect the material. Shiny, certainly. Silk, like his shirt?
Back to his zip. I finished the job, opening the kid right up, so that the jeans fell wide apart, and he began to shuck them, so that his underwear came into view. Perhaps I should not have been surprised from a lad who was so conscious of his appearance, but I was entranced all the same to discover that Adam was wearing one of the hottest pairs of shiny nylon micromesh briefs that I had seen on a teenager. It was in a shimmering dark maroon colour, and what was most striking about it was the way in which the handsome teenager's stiffening cock and soft ballsack showed through the gauzy veil.
'Fuck, Adam, these are something. Is this one of your special wanking thongs?'
'Nah, not worn it before. I thought you might like to christen it.'
'Oh, I intend to wet the baby's head, never fear. Come on, let's get your jeans right off.' He lifted himself off the bench so that I could help him pull the jeans down to his ankles. 'Good boy, now let's have those legs stretched as wide apart as you can manage'. Adam obliged immediately, so that the bulging mesh briefs pressed upwards and towards me, getting fuller by the second with his gorgeous mound of boymeat. I reached forward once more and started to massage that hot package, cupping the healthy balls which were warm to my touch, and then stroking the length of his silky shaft through the stretched nylon. My massaging became faster, and I rubbed him quite firmly. The feel of the youngster, now fully hard beneath the wispy nylon, was just incredible. I worked the full length of his boycock, sliding the foreskin back so that the maroon briefs became darker still with the dewy sap of his precum. I agitated his cockhead fast, wanting still more honeydew to soak the nylon. 'OK Adam, you wanted me to christen these for you, so here goes.' I dropped to my knees in worship of the young soccer god, and my mouth moved close to the dark patch from his leaking knob. I could smell the heady tang of hot precum in nylon, and needed to feast on it. My tongue flickered out and tasted the warmth of the nylon, and then the silkiness of the precum. I moved right in and my mouth covered the trapped cockhead, the foreskin fully retracted and the sensitive tip sheathed in mesh nylon. I gorged on this delicate feast, almost swooning with lust as he released still more waves of his clear boy honey.
Adam began to buck slightly, pushing his skimpy brief pouch further into my mouth. I sucked and munched the luscious package, then pushed my hands upwards and under the silk shirt and across the boy's flat stomach. I looked upwards as I continued to suckle him, and saw that he was unbuttoning the silk shirt. His fresh lightly tanned nakedness came in view as he pulled his shirt open and then slipped it off. As I slurped at him, the tip of his cock popped out of the top of his stretched briefs, and I immediately plunged it into my mouth, enjoying the naked teencock for the first time. Most of Adam's cock remained trapped beneath nylon, and I started to pull the top of his briefs up and down the shaft, so that the tension of the stretched nylon pulled the foreskin further back and intensified the pleasure for him as his cock was agitated by the clinging material.
He started to buck again, instinctively pushing his hot hard rod deep into my mouth, then pulling back, and then forward again. Without removing them further, I slid a hand down into the briefs and cupped under the silky balls, tangling my fingers in his curly hair. I couldn't believe that this hot kid had not been blown before, as he seemed such a natural, and yet there was a kind of animal innocence to him too. I had asked him to just go with it, and like a good pupil he was trusting his teacher.
I stopped sucking Adam's quivering lollipop for a moment and looked up at him as he lay back. 'You OK?' There was just a nod in reply, but a lovely smile with it. His nylon pouch was very wet by now, what with my manic sucking and his flooding precum. I flipped his cock almost entirely free and it slapped wetly against his taut stomach. His ballsack stayed inside the nylon bag but showed clearly through the mesh. I used both hands now, with my right rubbing those fat silky balls, heavy with boyspunk, and with my left masturbating his shaft, the skin stretched taut and showing every vein.
Just then, with a feeling of mixed horror and excitement, I saw that we were being watched. I couldn't believe it. I was normally so careful about ensuring that the small curtain was drawn across the window in my office door, but this time there was a narrow gap so that anyone in the main physio lab, standing against the door, could see us. And there was a face, peering through, flushed and with mouth slightly open. I relaxed somewhat when I realised that it was Darren, one of my regular customers from the senior team, who visited me regularly to be wanked off before major matches. I caught his eye, and shook my head slightly so that he didn't come into the room. But he continued to watch, and that made the whole thing even more exciting.
Adam's eyes were closed, so he hadn't seen any of this, thank God. He was too close to orgasm to be aware of anything else, and I decided that in the circumstances it was time to finish him off. 'Good boy' I said encouragingly. 'Let's see you cover your tummy in boy cream. I want you to empty these juicy balls of every drop of the hot spunk that you've been storing up for me. Come on Adam, shoot your cum for me, let's see that creamy young spunkload.'
Right on cue, the youngster arched his back, lifting it off the bench, and with loud moans he released the first thick spurts of his boycum. The 16-year-old was full of the most delicious hot spunk, and it began to cover his tanned stomach in a creamy torrent. It jetted from his glistening knob, splattering noisily onto his skin, lying like glistening icing on a particularly delicious cake. I did not stop for a moment wanking him, encouraging yet more of the teenager's cumjuices to travel up the hot hard shaft. As I squeezed the last drip from his cockhead, the door opened and Darren slipped into the room. Adam looked startled and momentarily shocked, but relaxed as soon as Darren spoke. 'Fucking ace, kid. Wish I could have done as well at your age.' Darren was wearing the full club seniors' training strip - white nylon shorts and white cotton vest - and was one of the more promising of the younger players brought into the main squad by the manager. He had come through the youth training scheme; now 20, I had first got him to fill his nylon shorts with cum when he was 17, a bit older than Adam. Since that day, scarcely a week went by without Darren visiting me for some hot massage. He even made occasional visits to my flat, where he had first allowed me to fuck his tight young arse. Most of the time he just wanted to be wanked, but sometimes was prepared to go further.
It seems ones of those times was now, because I had not previously known Darren take the sexual initiative with another lad. But he was very excited by what he had witnessed, and by the sight of the cute 16-year-old lying on the bench flooded with his own spunk. Darren turned to me 'If you pass me a cloth, I'll help him clean up.' I handed him a clean towel, and Darren bent over and gently began to mop the copious lake of cum from the boy's tummy. Adam's erection had subsided, but his cock was still impressively large as it lay softening. As Darren bent over the bench, his firm apple cheeks pressed invitingly through the soft white nylon of his soccer shorts, and I moved forward and cupped them one in each hand. He pressed back into my hands, giving me resistance, so I pressed the bum cheeks firmly and stroked them through the soft resisting nylon. I knew that, as usual, he would be wearing a tight elasticated cotton jock beneath, which always set his cock bulge of fantastically.
He carried on wiping Adam down as I felt him up. I slid my hand from behind under his shorts to get to his cockmound, and massaged the familiar package. He was very hard, his seven inches of rigid cockmeat trapped beneath the nylon-sheathed jockstrap. He always loved me feeling him up through his shorts before I removed them, and I was always happy to oblige! Nothing better than the feel of youthful excitement pressing through soft white nylon. The slippery nylon slid over the front of his bulging package and I rubbed him insistently, up and down the shaft, under the fat full balls. By now he had cleaned the boycum from Adam's stomach, and passed me the sodden towel. Then he started to caress Adam's nut-brown nipples with his thumbs, before moving his hands over the lad's body. At this stage I wasn't sure what he had in mind, nor how much Adam was prepared to allow. Things became clearer when Darren got Adam to position himself on hands and knees on the bench, with his tight young arse in the air. Darren stood behind Adam, and gently stroked the soft buttocks, moving inwards to the central crack. The moist pink rosebud of the youngster's hole winked at us, and Darren tenderly massaged it with his thumb. He bent over then, and began to rim the kid, who moaned as the tongue of the older youth flickered over the puckered arselips.
As Darren worked on Adam's arsehole, softening him up for whatever he had in mind, I continued to play with the footballer's cockmounds in his shorts. I decided to help him get ready for the next stage of the game, and slipped my right hand up the leg of the brief nylon shorts, until I made contact with the cotton of his jockstrap. His cock could hardly contain itself in his jock, and I skilfully eased it out at the side. He was very moist already, his long shaft slick with precum. I spread that precum the length of this shaft, gently squeezing more drops from his knobslit, so that he was nicely lubricated. It was time to get his shorts down his legs, so releasing the boy's cock for a moment I tugged them down, and pushed his vest upwards. His white jock was all that remained, the cock sticking out from the front.
'Off the bench, quick' muttered Darren, and Adam jumped to the floor. Darren got Adam to lean with his hands on the bench and bent him over, then delicately speared the virgin arse with his hot cockhead. Just the precum lubricated head went in at first, and slid in easily enough, but then Darren pushed harder and met resistance.
Patiently he worked the boy, pulling back and then moving in again. Adam opened up to him, and the two lads locked together, and began a slow but urgent fuck-dance. This was too much for me: I pulled my own nylon shorts down my legs and released my cock from the prison of my black silk briefs, sodden from the precum that I had been weeping for the last twenty minutes. I stood in front of Adam and placed my hands on his head. To my delight, the boy reached forward with his hand and began to wank me, but then, more amazing still, he closed his soft warm mouth around my leaking knob and began to give me a skilful suck-off. Darren was fucking him quite hard now, but Adam took all that was offered. The scene was so hot - Adam's maroon nylon briefs still were round the upper part of his thighs, the micromesh hugging the boyish ballsack; Darren continued to wear the white jock as he fucked the younger kid, gently slapping into his peachy buttocks; and I watched the two of them as my own cock was tongue bathed by the boy.
Darren pulled out just before he came, turned to me, and pumped his spunk over Adam's back as the lad continued to suck me. I was not long behind, and shot my own cum over Adam's lips and cheeks, some wads shooting into the boy's light brown hair. The kid was flooded with spunk, but seemed to revel in it. I had assumed a level of innocence that was perhaps misplaced, and how glad I was. It meant that the weeks ahead would be full of interest - for all three of us, I had reason to believe.
I am always pleased to hear from people who read my stuff, and want to correspond: contact me at scott_justin51@hotmail.com