Sporting by Coburn Aisling
Disclaimer
I am not from the UK, nor have I ever seen or played rugby, so I apologize if there are errors. I was inspired by a photo of a rugger pissing out of his shorts leg, and did my best to write in a style to match it. Feel free to email me with corrections, or to request the photo. Enjoy!
Corin had been holding it the whole first half. He'd meant to go before the game started, but had gotten caught up in the pre-game hype with the other rugger lads. He'd then planned to go at half-time break, but coach had kept them through the entire thing to discuss strategy. Now they were headed towards the second kick-off, and he was in trouble.
He squeezed worriedly at his swollen cock as the team milled on the sidelines before heading into the drop kick. His foreskin felt tight and sweaty, stretched over his swollen knob. He was risking a stiffy at this point with all the squeezing and touching, but he knew he didn't have much choice. A shot of fear seared through his veins at the thought of spending the entire second half trying not to wet his shorts, but he knew the lads would laugh him off the field if he tried to ask off for a wee. He cursed inwardly again as the referee signaled for kickoff. One more surreptitious squeeze of his stiffening cock and he trotted down the field into position.
Play began, and suddenly Corin was in a blur of desperation. Each move and play was excruciating, the pressure in his bladder causing everything else to feel insignificant. At one point as he slammed into another beefy body, he felt a burble of piss sneak out of his piss-slit and into his foreskin, wetting it and dripping into his shorts. He felt his throat constrict with panic, and grabbed desperately at himself, squeezing his foreskin closed.
Suddenly it was time for a lineout. At this point, Corin could feel desperate tears forming in his eyes as he walked across the grass towards his position. In among his teammates, he couldn't hold himself without drawing attention. His dick was definitely damp, and, while he knew it was his paranoid imagination tricking him, he almost thought he could smell a faint whiff of wee coming from his shorts.
As he stepped into position, he felt the muscles of his bladder suddenly give way slightly, and pee began jetting out of his cock against the fabric of his shorts, immediately soaking them and running onto his thighs. Cursing inwardly again and hoping to whatever bloody gods there might be that his black shorts would hide the wide piss spot, he dropped immediately to his knees and tried to fish his cock out of the leg of his shorts. The piss spraying from his swollen prick splashed his hand, but he grabbed it and yanked its girth out of his shorts
A last thick spray hit the grass, and suddenly he was back in control, the spray slowing to a dribble.
Of course, he thought sorely to himself as he blinked back angry tears. Fucking figures.
He looked up and caught the eye of a player on the opposing team who had seen his clandestine moment. The man smirked, his blue eyes flashing, and shook his head as Corin felt himself flush in embarrassment. He hurriedly stuffed his nearly erect cock away. The man raised an eyebrow at the substantial tent in his shorts, and Corin looked away, flushing even more.
As the referee began to signal for the lineout to begin, Corin looked back at the man in the orange jersey, just in time to see him squeeze his own cock and look directly into Corin's eyes. Corin had just enough time for a moment of confusion at a mirrored tent in the beefy man's shorts before the lineout began and he was swept into the game.
By the final, Corin was again feeling desperation tearing at his bladder. He'd met eyes a few more times throughout the game with the same man from the lineout. Each time, he felt a strange electricity shimmer through his body. The man's dark brown hair hung just near his blue eyes, and his short beard flashed ruddy red in the sun. Each time their eyes met, the look the other man shot towards him was so intense that he was forced to look away.
The score was finally called, and Corin made his way to the loos, trying not to draw attention, but hurrying still, desperate for a wee. As he drew up on the wooded area in which the toilets were located, he suddenly felt a strong arm snap around his chest, and an equally strong hand clamp across his mouth. He began struggling and grunting, but the man holding him flexed his muscles and dragged him behind the wooden building,
As he was manhandled, he felt his bladder give way, and hot piss began pouring into his shorts, spraying against and through the cotton fabric. The warm liquid ran down his thick thighs and into his shoes, and he felt tears leaking from his eyes as he thrashed against the strong hold of his assailant.
"Shhh, you bloody oaf," Corin heard the man hiss into his ear. Piss continued to pour into his shorts, wetting all the way down between his legs and up his sweaty arse crack. He slowly slumped in defeat as he weed himself, and felt the hand over his mouth relax and move away. With a last jet of hot piss and a slight whimper, he sagged against the man behind him, and was suddenly aware of the man's rock-solid mound pressing into his wee-soaked backside.
The larger man suddenly spun him around and mashed his lips against Corin's. Corin let out a grunt of surprise and tried to shove him away, but the massive biceps in the man's arms flexed and held him tight as he began struggling anew. The man's kiss was firm and demanding, and Corin's brain whirled in confusion; feelings he'd long suppressed warred with his hetero identity. To his slight horror, he felt his cock begin to stiffen, tenting his warm, wet shorts.
"Yeeeeah, that's right laddy, you just couldn't keep your eyes off me, and now we both know why," the burly man growled. Corin's struggles grew to be perfunctory, and the man reached between them, keeping a cursory arm around Corin's body as he forced his mouth onto the lad's again. The hand between them reached into the man's white shorts and pulled out his raging erection, slowly maneuvering it over the soaked waistband of Corin's shorts and under Corin's tensed bollocks to glide wetly along his perineum.
Corin let out a minute gasp as his own steely cock jumped at the contact, and the brief opening in his oral defense allowed the man's tongue to push into his mouth. It was surprisingly sweet as it forcefully pushed against his own tongue, and Corin suddenly found himself dropping even the last pathetic protests of his body and melting into the man's kiss.
The other man suddenly relaxed his muscles, and Corin pulled away slightly, a questioning look crossing his face. The man's eyes glazed over slightly, and a second later, Corin felt a surge of pee fly from the man's huge cock, spraying all over the inside buttocks of Corin's shorts. The man ravenously resumed his oral assault, pushing his tongue into Corin's mouth again as he lightly humped between the younger man's thick thighs, spraying his hot piss into the already drenched athletic shorts.
Corin whimpered again, this time in submission and arousal, feeling his bollocks boiling and surging against the hot, rigid pole beneath them. A moan escaped his bruised lips as he pulled away from the kiss, pressing his burning face into the taller man's firm chest and clutching at his rigid back muscles. One last drag of his foreskin against the hot, damp fabric of his shorts, and he suddenly felt fire. His testicles surged into his body, and searing liquid pumped through him, shooting from the tender head of his cock. Wave after wave of thick spunk shot from him as he moaned, coating the inside of his shorts further and slicking his already burning cock with hot cum.
He suddenly remembered to breathe, and gasped against the huge man's chest. Looking up at the burly specimen, he was surprised to see bemused astonishment splashed on the older man's face.
"Well, I sure as bloody hell didn't expect that."
"I... Uh... Oh hell." Corin felt his face flush once again. This was becoming a habit.
The man laughed lightly, and pulled his dripping, ramrod cock from Corin's thoroughly besmirched shorts, stuffing it unceremoniously into his own.
"I think, boy, that we need to take you somewhere."
Corin grinned a little ruefully as he looked down at his ruined gear. He pulled the waistband of the shorts away from his hairy body to check the damage inside.
"Oooh no. Not to clean up," the beefy man said, grabbing Corin's wrist roughly. "You got your rocks off, eh? Now it's MY turn."
The man reached behind him, into his shorts, and pressed his middle finger roughly against the sweat-slicked pucker of Corin's arse. Corin felt his throat go dry, and his cock pulsed as the muscled stud spun him around and pressed him towards the parking lot.