CONFESSIONS OF A SOCCER PHYSIO - 2
IN THE BACK SEAT
As told to JUSTIN SHORTS (scott_justin51@hotmail.com)
One of the most unusual, and I have to say most exciting experiences I had in my early career came in one of the more bizarre settings - on the back seat of the bus taking our senior team to an away match. I have already said that I quickly learned that there was nothing strange about perfectly straight lads indulging in pretty hot wanking sessions before matches, primarily as a way of relaxing or maybe, for some, of getting hyped out. No-one thought anything about it, it was accepted as normal. It was not long before I featured strongly in these. It didn't take the boys very long at all to find out that as I was gay, I was ready to help them out with no persuasion at all on their parts required! I was soon expert at reading the signs, at knowing when one of the lads was up for it and needed a bit of my special treatment.
Anyway, on this particular occasion we were travelling a fair distance to the match, and we knew that we wouldn't have much time to change and warm-up when we got to the grounds. It had occurred to the manager that time for relaxing' would be really tight: oh yes, he knew exactly what the players were up to, and recognised their needs and wanted them to satisfy them if it was going to make them play better. And it took him not time at all to realise that I was well suited to supply this service for them! He had got things worked out though, and hinted to me as we got on the bus that we should use the journey to help one or two of the key players to get psyched-up' (his term) for the coming match, which was likely to be a tough one. I'm trying to think when this was - probably in my first season working with the senior team, which was 1981-2. The manager told me to sit in the back seats, which he had instructed the team to keep clear - in fact, when we got on the bus they all sat towards the front of the bus as I headed off to the back, so that there were at least five rows of empty seats as well as the empty back seat bench. I felt a bit lonely perched there on my own, if you want to know the truth.
I needn't have worried. We hadn't been going for more than 10 minutes before Gary, one of our strikers and someone I admired not just for his playing skills but for his foxy looks, got up from his seat and headed down to the back. Gary was 20, and I must have been 21 or maybe 22 at most. I pulled across to the window seat in the corner, and he sat alongside me - we were out of sight of anyone turning around, but there was not a hint from in front that anyone cared about what was likely to occur, even though they must have known damned well what was on the cards. For all I knew, there were others in the queue waiting their turn (as it turned out, there were).
Gary and I made awkward small talk for a few minutes, looking out of the window at first and rather artificially commenting on passing scenery, and then we began to talk a bit about the game ahead and his likely role in it. Gary was wearing the club blue tracksuit bottoms and white teeshirt; I was planning to change into my physio strip when I got to the ground and so was wearing jeans and white shirt.
As we continued to talk, I waited for Gary to make a move - I just knew that in his case I needed to do that, as if I was to start things off he would probably pull away. He needed to feel he was in charge (the natural instincts of striker, perhaps!). And when he did so, I have to say that I admired his subtlety, because I hardly was aware of what began as a gentle pressure against my thigh as he pressed against me by slightly parting his own legs. Now, it was very unusual for the lads to be concerned with anyone's pleasure but their own, so I was really excited when a moment later Gary rested his hand on my jeans, at the top of my thigh, and then edged across to reach my mound. I immediately opened my legs really wide, to give him maximum opportunity and encouragement, and sure enough he began to move his hand around over the front of my jeans, beginning to make out the shape of my package which I can tell you was stirring into life pretty rapidly.
I wasn't sure if I should start work on him just yet, but as he seemed to be enjoying exploring me I thought I could afford to wait a bit. I was longing to feel him up, and get my hands on his hard young soccer cock, but to be honest I was so entranced by what he was doing to me that I was prepared to hold back a while longer.
Gary rubbed gently through the blue denim, and seemed to be trying to make out the shape of me with his fingers. Then he moved to my zip, and after fiddling with the top for a moment to find the catch slowly pulled it downwards. I felt my jeans loosen and part and then I whispered to him - `please slip your hand in', a fairly pointless remark as he was clearly intending to do that anyway. After a few moments he placed his warm hand inside my now gaping jeans, and firmly covered my throbbing cockmound which was contained in a pair of my favourite tight white briefs, in soft nylon. God, I nearly shouted out as he made contact with the nylon, and at once he began to massage my stiff dick and ballpouch in the confining cloth.
He seemed to enjoy the feel of my rapidly juicing cock in my briefs, as he stroked me with skill and sensitivity, trying to make out the shape of me, travelling down to my full balls and back up to the moist tip of my prick. I tried not to show on my face the effect this was having on me, not because I didn't want him to know that he was doing a fantastic job at feeling me up, but in case anyone from in front turned around and saw me. After all, the point of the exercise was for me to give Gary a little bit of hand relaxation, not the other way round! But I rationalised to myself that if this was having a calming effect on him, then I was only too happy to provide my services in this way.
He looked across to me and smiled, and then with the faintest inclination of his head indicated his own crotch. He was ready for me. I could tell that he was already pretty swollen in his tracksuit, which pressed out at the front, and he settled back in the benchseat and pushed his legs wider apart. He kept his hand over the front of my briefs, but for the moment at least stopped his active rubbing of me. He wanted me to reciprocate.
My hand travelled swiftly to his knee, then up his thigh, and more slowly and teasingly I approached his youthful swelling. I could see his erection moving under the blue tracksuit trousers, and his eyes closed in anticipation. Then I reached his upper thigh, and moved across to the centre. He sighed as I made first contact with his meaty mound, and began lightly to caress him with my fingertips. Then I cupped him with my hand, and pressed hard and started massaging. He was very firm, and I knew that this was going to be a fantastic session. As I began to slide my hand over and around his bulging cockmeat, I could feel a slipperiness beneath the tracksuit material that I immediately knew indicated that he was wearing his nylon soccer shorts underneath. Better and better! I realised that as he might be going to wear those for the game, I ought not to make him cum in them, so he was either going to have me let him suck him off or pump his spunk over the floor of the bus.
I brought my hand higher up then, to the loose waistband of his tracksuit, and easily slid my hand down inside the front. Immediately I made contact with the shiny nylon of his shorts, which was very soft and warm, and then further down still met his hard hot cock pushing through them into my hand. I could feel a damp patch of precum already leaking through his shorts - so he was not going to be entirely stainless for the match! Maybe he did have a spare pair with him. I needed to know, so that I would be able to decide how much I could afford to work on him in his shorts.
`Mmm, Gary. What a hot cock, and rather damp shorts I think? Any spare with you?'
`Yeaah, in my bag. Keep rubbing mate, it feels great in my shorts.'
So that was OK then - it opened up a wider range of options to us. As always, my preferred one was to suck him through the shorts until he came, but I was happy to entertain variants of that, such as slipping his cock out at the last minute, or starting his orgasm outside the shorts and then tucking him back in for a few thick wads to soak through the nylon as I sucked.
It was then I realised that we just about had enough room on the back seat for him to lie out full stretch without being visible, and for me to get down beside him to work on him. And that suddenly seemed really exciting to me, so I got up and indicated to him by pulling at his legs what he should do. At once he obeyed, and lay out full stretch, his arms behind his head. I knelt beside him on the floor, my jeans round my ankles and my cock throbbing hungrily in my hugging nylon briefs. With his hands behind his neck, it was easy for me to tug his white teeshirt upwards to expose his flat smooth stomach, where he was just slightly downy. I pulled it right up to his neck, exposing a gold chain and medallion. Then I returned to his tracksuit and tugged at those, which as they were quite loose began to slip easily down his muscled thighs. Sure enough, the nylon shorts came into view, but I was surprised to see that they weren't the club shorts but a pair of his own, which looked to me more like running shorts. They were even briefer than his normal soccer shorts, in a very soft white nylon fabric which showed every contour of his throbbing cockmeat beneath.
I pulled more firmly at his tracksuit, and it fell to his ankles. He looked up at me, fully exposed to me, his bare chest and well-filled shorts turning me crazy with lust. With the knuckles of one hand I gently stroked his smooth stomach, and with the other I got to work again on his nylon packet of joy. Up and down I worked on his boyish cock through the stretching nylon, this 20-year-old soccer stud surrendering entirely to the intensity of the pleasuring I was giving him. Then I stopped caressing his stomach and slipped that hand gently but confidently down inside the front of his white shorts, grasping the fat mushroom head of his uncut cock and with two fingers started to agitate the foreskin back and forth. His precum flooded over my hands in warm silky rivulets.
Then Gary removed hand from behind his head and reached again for my own raging erection which pressed out my white briefs grotesquely, and gently wanked me through them. I pressed downwards over him, so that my briefs made contact with his shorts, and we rubbed and pressed our cocks together, nylon on nylon, slippery and shiny and ever damper with out flooding precum juices.
This was getting really wild, and I could have just come like that, pressing cocks through tight nylon, filling our nylon pouches with our hot spunk, but just then I heard a sound behind me and quickly looked around. Standing behind us was Lee, our left- winger, and one of the youngest in the senior team at 18. He was dark and cute, and was very flushed as he saw what we were up to.
Err, the boss was wondering how much longer you'd be cause he wanted you to sort me out next.'
I was breathing very heavily as I said `well, not long, but why not hang around?'
Gary smiled as I said this, which was good as I suppose he might have objected to having spectators, so I grabbed Lee's arm and pulled him closer so he stood over us both.
He was in the team strip, shorts and shirt, so I immediately made for his shorts and began to feel the youngster up. He was getting hard very quickly, I could tell, and I decided to flip his cock free, so with the gentlest of tugs I pulled the shorts down just a few inches, and the teenager's cock sprang up. I decided to go for a quick hard wank of him, as Gary and I needed to cum badly, so with my right hand I started masturbating the youth who closed his eyes and leant his head back. Meanwhile, I continued to rub my cock against Gary's nylon packet, and we were both rock hard.
Then I got on to my knees, turned towards Lee, and got the teencock into my mouth and began to slurp on his boyjuice. His precum was sweet and tasty. At the same time, I slipped a hand back inside Gary's shorts and wanked his damp cockmeat, whilst with my other hand I rubbed my own cock through my nylon briefs, which felt fantastic as the sensitive head tingled as it made contact with the precum soaked nylon. I wanted to cum my load, and I could tell Gary was nearly there: I sucked noisily and greedily on the young soccerkid and began to feel him tense up. Then the three of us began to buck and moan quietly, and Gary was the first to explode his creamy cum within the soft white shorts. Almost at once, I too began to pump my thick spunkload into my hugging white briefs, and as I did so young Lee tumbled over the edge of orgasm and began to fill my mouth with his creamy gift. I drank gratefully on the warm boycum, thick, juicy and so copious, and it began to spill from my mouth. My own orgasm was incredibly intense, contained as it was in the close- fitting nylon, and I could tell Gary was in wank heaven.
I reached into my bag for a towel to help us clean up, and the boys began to straighten themselves up. Gary pulled off his cum-filled shorts, and went back to his seat naked beneath his tracksuit.
I lay back on the bench feeling pretty exhausted, I can tell you, but managed to stir myself into life again when I saw the next member of the team get up from his seat and begin to head down the aisle towards the back seat...
To be continued
Lover of briefs and shorts, and the lads who fill them, are welcome to contact me with comments/suggestions at scott_justin51@hotmail.com