Here is the first part of a multiple part story for the archive.
Thanks
Steve
DISCLAIMER:
This is the third story that I have written and is based very loosely on my sexual adventures over the years. The first story 'Old School Ties' gave a fictionalised account of some aspects of my life during my school years and after. This one tells the story of something that happened during my time at University. If you like the stories let me know as I have quite a few more that I could tell.
WARNING:
Do not read this story if you are in any way offended by acts of a homosexual nature.
Do not read this if you are under the legal age for accessing adult sites.
Always indulge in safe sex.
SOCCER SENSATION
Part One: Finding a team player
I love playing soccer and have done ever since I was a kid. I played for my school team even though it was quite unusual for an English private school to play soccer in my day - rugby was much more common. My name is Simon Rose and this is another story from my sexual past.
I had successfully completed the first year of my University career and decided to stay in the large bedsit I had occupied the previous year. First it had strong and happy memories of my time with my American friend Dan (see my story 'University Blues' for details). Second, I liked the area and third, I could play relatively relaxed soccer every Sunday morning for the local pub side. The games were serious and competitive but at the end of the day the main purpose was to have a good time, down a few pints and enjoy ourselves as much as possible. As my bedsit was just across from the park where we played, I could get up late and turn up in time for kick-off changed and ready. Most team members chose to change before they got to the ground because the changing facilities were extremely primitive. Like me they would arrive in their tracksuits and then change into their boots just before the kick off. The team had members of all ages and ability - the youngest was 16 the oldest about 46. The only exception to the general rule about going out and enjoying ourselves was when we played a cup round - then we played to win!
This story begins on the day of our second round match in the cup. We were playing the King's Head team and we'd beaten them already this particular season in the Sunday league. A couple of days before the game I had popped in late to check the team list and be sure that I had been selected. I had been, but the team looked a little odd as there were a few regulars missing.
"The team's missing a couple of regulars," I commented to Chris Brown the pub landlord and team captain as I bought my pint.
"Yes. I've had to ask my lad Peter if he'll play and the cousin of Jimmy Parker is also going to play. Tommy and Barry are off at some wedding or other this weekend. Still, Peter's not bad, he's quick and sharp and the other lad, Robbie, is dynamite in front of goal - so Jimmy says." Chris replied.
So here we were ready for this important game but with an unfamiliar line-up. I shouldn't have worried, we scored early and in the second half young Peter Brown ran rings round the opposition and made one goal and scored another. We added a fourth just before the end and were comfortable winners. I had a good game and had managed the mid-field well and tackling their only dangerous attacker to that he posed little threat to our goal.
After the match we were back in the pub, track suits covering our dirty kit and shoes replacing out boots, for a few celebratory drinks. Then back home for a shower or bath and a bit of television and a meal. Some, I knew, would be back in the pub later on, but I had work to do for College and told the others that I would not be back.
"Alright, Prof" (this is what they nicknamed me shortly after they learned that I was at the university, nobody ever called me by either of my real names, Steven or Simon) "see you next week then and well played." The group chorused a goodbye as I left.
Once back home I stripped off and sank into a nice warm bath. I had redressed into a T-shirt and a cleaner pair of soccer shorts and was just about to start cooking when the doorbell rang. I was startled and because I was not expecting visitors I looked out of the side window. Standing outside were Chris Brown and his son Peter, so I went to the door and let them in. I liked Chris. He was a straightforward guy who ran a good pub and tolerated no nonsense. On the other hand, he was good for a laugh and had treated me with kindness and had welcomed me as part of his pub team. Nevertheless, I did not regard him as the sort of person who would make social calls on a Sunday evening. I guess the unexpected nature of the visit registered on my face as I opened the door.
"I expect you're surprised to see us, but I told Peter to speak to you this morning about this but he forgot', Chris began his explanation of their visit.
I smiled across at Peter who was looking rather sheepish at his father's comment and I replied,
"I expect he was too overwhelmed by his great performance this morning. Anyway what did you want to ask?"
Before Peter could answer, his father started up again.
"Peter's coming up to important exams next summer and he is not very good at Maths. I was wondering if you could give him a bit of a helping hand with it. There'd be several pints in it for you if you would."
Peter was shifting nervously from foot to foot as he father spoke but he seemed also to be not unwilling for me to help him. So, looking directly at Peter, I replied,
"Well if that is what Peter needs and wants I'd be glad to see what I can do. I work on Tuesdays and Thursdays at the College library but Monday and Wednesday would be OK for me."
Peter spoke for the first time,
"I really would like some help but I can't do Wednesdays because I've got soccer training at school. Could we have our first meeting tomorrow?"
"OK. About 7.00 p.m. if that's OK with you. Bring your books and let's see what the problems are." I responded.
So it was agreed. I'd coach Peter and Chris would reward me with free pints at his pub.
Next evening, the doorbell rang just before 7 o'clock and Peter, dressed in a T-shirt and tracksuit bottoms and carrying some books and papers, was standing there. I was wearing a T-shirt and soccer shorts as it was still quite warm. I ushered him in and he sat down at the desk in my bedsit. Before we started I told Peter that we had to decide what to call each other and that I had no objection if he called me Steven.
"But aren't you Simon?" he asked puzzled.
"Well actually I'm Steven Simon Rose. At school I was known as Steven but when I got to College there was another Steven Rose in my group and as I had a second name and he didn't I swapped to Simon. To be honest though I prefer Steve." I explained.
"OK Steve it is then," smiled peter warmly.
I had cleared a space for Peter's books and he put them down and opened them up for me to look at. His work did not seem to be too bad to me but I decided to get him to show me the areas he felt weak at. He flicked through the textbook and found a page of differential equations. We sat close together as I tried to explain the method of solving the equations. As I did so, I became aware of Peter's leg pushing against the exposed length of my leg, so I moved slightly only to find that his leg was still pushing against mine. Peter appeared to be following my explanation with his full attention but then I felt his hand resting on his leg quite close to my thigh. I was not sure what to do. I thought Peter at just 16 was too young for me, almost 20, to want to fool around with but the pressure of his leg and the sensation of the closeness of his hand were making my prick swell. Hoping he hadn't notice my growing bulge only inches from his hand, I suggested to Peter that he might like to try one of the equations. He smiled at me and moved his hand slightly nearer to my fast-growing bulge. His fingers had almost found the end of my now quite hard prick when he said quietly,
"Look, Steve, I saw you earlier in the summer. I know what you like."
I felt a shiver go down my spine as I realised he must have seen me and Dan together when he had stayed at my bedsit, although I could not imagine how, we'd always been discrete. Just then the voice continued,
"I was delivering the football club newsletter for dad and I as I pushed the sheet through the door, I heard a noise. I realised you were in there and as I climbed back up the stairs, I just caught a glimpse of you and the blond guy you were with. There was a slight gap in the curtain and there was just enough of a gap for me to see you sucking off your friend. I wanted to stay and watch but I couldn't as I heard dad coming to look for me. When I got home I thought about what I'd seen and I wanked off imagining that I had been there with you. Then you went away for the summer and I had to plan how I could get near you. My maths is OK really I don't need much help but I do want something else from you."
As he said these words, Peter's hand gripped my now hard shaft through the material of my shorts and gently squeezed the spongy head. He slipped down off his seat and knelt between my legs. His lips moved up my legs and he took the end of my prick into his mouth through the nylon material of my shorts. His hands were pulling at the waistband and as I slightly lifted myself off my seat, they were expertly pulled down to my knees, exposing my prick and balls to my young teenage partner. Peter was clearly not a novice at sucking dick and he was no stranger to the needs of a circumcised prick! He purred as he licked at the exposed head of my prick and lapped up the pre-cum that was beginning to flow from my piss slit. He licked all the way down the underside of my prick to my heavy balls and sucked on each of these before journeying up the shaft again. I had pushed back in my chair to give him more room and was moaning my pleasure at this young man's talented sucking. He held my head between his lips and looked up at me, smiling with his eyes as I bit my lip in an effort to control my churning balls. Peter knew exactly what he was doing and he now began to piston up and down my shaft using his lips and tongue to maximum effect. I was lost in my desire to cum and had just enough time to issue the briefest of warnings that I was about to explode. This brought renewed energy to my young cocksucking friend as he proceeded to lash my shaft with his greedy mouth before withdrawing his lips to just below the head as my creamy hot spunk fired volley after volley onto his waiting tongue and down his eager throat. He swallowed the lot and even lapped up the last remaining drops that trickled down the shaft. For his age he was an amazing sucker of dick.
He smiled at me as he finally let my prick drop from his lips and started to stand up. As he did so his tracksuit was level with my face and I saw that it was still tented out. I reached forward and pulled it forward and down. His cock now unconfined leapt out at me. He certainly had come to my bedsit well prepared, as he was naked under the tracksuit bottoms. His cock was glistening with pre-cum and the foreskin was rolled almost past his sensitive cock head. It was obvious that he had not yet cum but was very close so I slipped his hard cock into my mouth and started to return the favour he had just done me.
"Oh yes, Steve. Suck me I'm almost coming." Peter gasped.
In only a few seconds, he was there. He fucked his hard cock into my mouth as I sat passively as his length disappeared and reappeared. I felt the head of his cock harden and then his jizz came shooting out into my mouth, warm and tasty to my tongue and I swallowed his cum just as he has swallowed mine.
All this had taken only a short time but we had covered quite a lot of ground and as our breathing came back down to normal, I turned towards Peter and said,
"Thanks. You were fantastic. It's the best suck off I've had since the time I was with Dan, the blond guy you saw me with last summer. You certainly know a lot of tricks and you're experienced with cut cocks too. Where on earth did you learn to perform like this?"
Peter replied that he wanted to thank me for letting him suck my prick and for shooting so much spunk and then finishing him off so well myself. He then looked at his watch and said he must be going now as his dad expected him back by eight but that he hoped he could have some more 'coaching' and on his next visit he'd tell me more about his previous adventures.
We agreed that his next visit should be on Wednesday as football training was off for the week and neither of us could wait until Monday of next week for the next session.
to be continued.....
If you like the story please let me know
british@badpuppy.com