CONFESSIONS OF A SOCCER PHYSIO - 3
As told to JUSTIN SHORTS (scott_justin51@hotmail.com)
AFTER HOURS IN THE SOCCER GYM
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 alone 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 the soft 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.