The first day of school ended up being one of the worst and one of the best, if I'm honest. I thought Emmiline was absolutely gorgeous. I wanted to get to know her, but it would seem that the powers-that-be did not allow such good fortune such as a good conversation and some mutual flirting between us. I had another class with Jerry. It was really funny. I kind of imagined getting to know and making friends with the people on the football team, but after the first football practice, I found something out.
The football players are huge, throbbing dicks. I'm not a big guy, but I was tall and I was in good shape, but to the football players, I was some sort of pipsqueak. Even as I jogged out in pads and some workout clothes, they laughed at the tiny guy. Coach Fogelsmeyer was out there to say hi to me. "Looking good, kid." He said, clapping me on the back. "Why does it seem like I'm the runt of the litter?" I asked, looking at the team.
He laughed. "Well, you'll put on the weight. It's a guarantee by the end of the season." He smiled. "Alright. Now, get stretched out. We're gonna get you started on some position drills. Find out what you're best suited for." I headed out to the field and over to where some other guys were stretching and as I got closer, I noticed who was leading it. Mrs. Raylene Fogelsmeyer. She waved at me and I took my place in the back, joining in the stretching. Soon enough she excused herself to go coach volleyball and coach brought us around.
"Sampson. I want you at Cornerback. Cover Clark over here for a couple plays. I want to see your speed and Clark is one of our fastest." He said, shoving Clark in my direction. He was a big guy. Not taller than me, but just bigger.
"Stay on him, Sampson. Show us what you can do." Coach said, heading off to the sidelines. I can't tell you how many times we ran that same drill. Different plays. Different receivers.
About an hour's worth of the practice. I just remember my legs burning. Clark didn't touch the ball. I could tell he was furious. Eventually, Coach brought us back together again. Same drill, but Clark and I switched places. After the announcement, I wanted to ask coach why he hated me. I looked over at Clark and he had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. I ran back to the line and as soon as I heard 'hut' I took off. I could tell that Clark wanted to rip my head off my neck, so the first three runs, I missed my route out of fear.
Coach basically kept a lap count in his head. He had the spreadsheet in his mind of all the players and kept a running tab of people that were going to be his bitch on the track after practice.
Based on the number of laps I ran in the future, it was 5 laps a fuck-up. It was a simple hook route, but I'd always go too long or I'd hook too far. Something to that extent, but I finally got it after the fourth try. And Clark kicked my ass. Hit me so hard, I thought I had died. It felt like getting hit by a bus. And he did that every time. Hut. Run. Catch. Dead. And every time the other guys on the team had a good chuckle at me, but I got up and we ran it again.
For an hour. That lasted way too long in opinion, but eventually we moved onto the next thing. Max cheered when we started. I was put at tight end. I lined up in position across from a guy named Jonathan. I have a cousin named Jonathan and he was a nice enough guy. Quiet. Played tuba.
This Jonathan was one of the many assholes on the football team. I'm not only saying that because he's the guy laying me out every minute, but I'm also saying that because the first thing he did was tell me. "I'm gonna tear your arms off, fresh meat." His exact words. Kim had told me that the players like to be a little rough to the new guys, but this seemed excessive. I was supposed to block in this new play, but every time I went to block, Jonathan would run me over.
Now, Max and I alternated plays. Coach said that I could learn by watching Max and he was right, sort of. Max told me that when I block, I need to want to rip the other guy's head off more than he wants to rip mine off. That made me laugh, but he was being completely serious. The next play, I lined up and I looked Jonathan right in the eyes. I hated him. He was beating the shit out of me and I was tired of it. I was going to tear him a new one.
I smiled and the ball was snapped. And I still got put on my ass. I was fortunate that the final drill was the final drill. I took a lot of damage that practice and by the last drill, I was sorer than I had ever been. And then the final drill happened. I was put in as tight end. Coach said that my blocking would need to be worked on, but there was a lot of potential. He told me that I'd need to wait out the 'new meat' phase.
Once all of the candy spilled out of the piñata that was my body, I would no longer be of interest as a punching bag. I was assigned a short slant route. I was basically told to delay a lineman for a moment and then buzz past him, run 5 yards and look for the ball. That's exactly what I did and I caught the ball no problem. Now, I don't know and I didn't know before this practice, what it was like to have your shoulder stepped on by a football cleat with a 300 pound guy in it.
The pads do a lot, but it seemed to miss as I felt the clear and familiar sound of something enormously fucking painful happening in my shoulder. I was piled onto as I expected, but in the mass of feet, arms, torsos, legs, and helmets, my shoulder was trampled on. I shouted in pain and people cleared quickly. Marshall was the one who noticed me holding my arm and he waved Coach over. The two of them helped me up and I stood fine on my own, but my arm was a lifeless mess.
"He's a pussy!" I heard someone shout from the back of the crowd. I promptly offered him a middle finger with the hand that did work. Coach grabbed my arm. I had no idea what it was he did because I knew it was going to hurt.
I closed my eyes. There was a horrible popping noise and I felt sharp pain charge from my arm, but it was back in again. I thanked the coach and I was half-hoping for him to let me rest and ice my arm, but instead he told me I got a head-start on my laps.
With the combination of me missing my route, dropping a couple of easy catches, and Jonathan using me as pavement, all told I had to run 35 laps. Luckily, I enjoyed running, but at the same time, every step I took made my shoulder scream at me. Finally, I was sent to the showers. I did so and Marshall, Jonathan, and Clark were still in the locker room when I went to get dressed again after my shower. I looked at myself in the mirror and where my shoulder used to be was a big bruise that I now called my shoulder.
Along with some bruising on my ribs and some scratches on my arm, I came out relatively alive. I heard laughing from the lockers as I was checking my shoulder and when I went to get my clothes I saw a note that said, 'follow the breadcrumbs.' I rolled my eyes and looked around before noticing my underwear lying next to the door.
I grabbed them and pulled them on, finally ditching my towel. I looked out the open door and spotted my backpack. I swore to myself. I was going to get them back for this. Without much choice, I walked out and snagged my backpack, then my shoes, then my belt, then my shirt and finally I was at a door.
The door to the women's locker room. I glanced around. Maybe I could be quick. I slowly creaked the door open and saw my duffel bag and my jeans right inside the door. I looked around and then quickly opened the door, darting in to grab my bag. I walked in, but as I turned around, I was met with the door closing. "No, no, no, no." I whisper-yelled, pushing on the door.
All I could hear was laughing from the other side. I tried for another moment before I heard the dragging of something finally stop outside the door. I was trapped. In the girls locker room. "Your phone is waiting for you out here, new meat. Good luck!" Jonathan said with a laugh before the sound of their laughter faded away. I dropped all my stuff and turned toward the locker room. Maybe I was alone in here. Maybe all I had to do was wait for someone to wonder why the door was blocked and let me out.
I was reassured until I heard the sound of the showers turn on. I hate to admit, but while I was scared for a moment, the possibility of seeing a naked woman got the best of me. I didn't hear anything else, so I assumed the person using the shower was the only one here. Other than me of course.
I walked slowly, still clad in just my boxers, into the women's locker room. As I rounded the corner past the lockers, I finally got a view into the shower. Under the water was a tall thin woman. She had slightly tan skin and curves, her long legs leading all the way up to a firm round ass, water cascading off her smooth skin.
She had dark hair that went down to her mid back. I watched from behind a row of lockers as she singlehandedly made my cock spring to life so fast it almost punched a hole in the locker in front of me. I could hear her humming something and I moved away from the lockers, trying to figure out what to do.
My curiosity got the best of me and I walked over to my hiding spot again. I looked into the shower and saw that the woman had turned around and revealed, not only an amazing set of tits, but her face that I immediately recognized. The coach's wife. She had her office in the women's locker room, so it would make sense that she would be in here, but I never expected her to be showering.
I wasn't able to adjust to this surprise for very long because she spotted me and screamed, quickly grabbing a towel, covering her amazing body. "Clay, what the hell are you doing in here?!" She shouted, the water turning off. I could hear her wet feet storming toward me. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. Clark and Jonathan and Marshall. They led me in here and then trapped me. Trapped us. I think it was some sort of prank." I explained from behind an open locker door. "That doesn't mean you have to peep on me." She said, her focus changing from anger to what seemed to be concerned.
"What is this? What the hell happened here?" She asked, walking toward me and moving the locker door enough to see my shoulder. "Oh, and here! And here! Is my husband beating you out on that field?" She asked, placing a delicate hand on my shoulder, still hugging her towel to herself. "Tell you what.
I want to check on you a little bit and see how bad of a job my husband did at putting your shoulder back. Go over by my office and lay down on that table. I want to give you a once over." She said before walking away from me. I followed just long enough to find the table and lay down on it. I looked up when she came out of her office.
She was wearing some short shorts and a plain red tanktop. I was glad that I was laying on my stomach because if I hadn't been, she would have seen the bulge off my cock in my boxers. "How you feeling, Clay?" She asked, placing her hands on my back. "Uhh…Sore, if I'm honest." I say with a chuckle, glancing up to see her tight shorts move by me. "I got put on my ass more often than not." "I'm so sorry to hear that…" She said, massaging my neck. "Those boys will take it easy on you eventually." She said, her accent coming through again.
"Mrs. Fogelsmeyer, do you mind if I ask you to tell me a little about yourself?" She giggled. "Like what, exactly?" She smiled and continued working on my neck. "Like…where you're from? How you ended up here? When you started playing volleyball? How you ended up with coach of all people?" I was worried I had gone too far, but she simply giggled again.
"Well…I was born in Austria, but my family moved pretty early to Italy. I grew up playing Volleyball there and I was really good." She giggled and started to massage my shoulder finally, drawing a few cringes from me. "I came here to the states to play Volleyball for Boston College. From there, I wanted to try for the Olympics and I got onto the team as a back-up which was one of the greatest honors…To play for my country." She sighed and started massaging my arm.
"We came in ninth overall." "I'm sorry to hear that, ma'am." I said, surprised I could focus as my eyes were locked onto her crotch which was right in my face. I had to be honest. This all seemed a little unbelievable. That was even further emphasized when she told me to take off my boxers.
"I'm sorry, ma'am?" I asked in disbelief. She was working on my shoulder and my mind drifted a little bit, partially to the sight of how tight her shorts were, but when I came to again she was working on my back. "Your back feels a little tight. Maybe knotted or strained. I want to check on your hamstrings." She said, massaging my lower back. "Here's a towel. I won't look, I promise." She laid a towel on the table next to my head and I sat up, watching her ass sway away into her office.
I had to admit as I was carefully covering myself as to not reveal my rock hard cock, I did feel better. She was good at her job. My shoulder still hurt like a bitch, but it felt better. Finally, I was laying on the table with a towel covering me. By my guess, she could probably see my nuts. However, that involved me laying with my cock between my stomach and the table.
Which really was uncomfortable. I was hoping that it would cause my hard-on to shrink, but no such luck. "My husband says that he likes what he saw today." She said, returning to the table from her office. "Wishes you hadn't been beat up so much and from what I can see I would agree. You must be pretty good out there." "How do you figure, ma'am?" I asked as I felt her massaging my legs.
"Well, the last guy to join the team was that boy…Nelson. He was supposed to be a cornerback, but oh…he was terrible. The other boys on the team knew that he would quit and he did, so they barely put any effort into it." She moved her hands higher.
"He left and they turned their attention back to football. You must look like you're staying on the team." "That is the plan, ma'am." I said with a nod, her hands massaging my knees. "That's good. Very admirable." She said massaging my thighs. "I'll be sure to tell my husband to let his boys know that you need to survive the season." "That'd be appreciated, ma'am." I said with a chuckle.
"Okay, now. Go ahead and roll over." She said, moving her hands. I froze.
If I rolled over, several things would occur and none of them sounded appealing to me. "For what, exactly, ma'am?" I asked, looking up at her.
"There's a bruise on your shoulder that I can only assess from seeing all of it. On top of that, I want to check on your ribs. They look red." She explained. "I can turn for a moment if you need to get situated." I watched her look away and I gave in.
I rolled onto my back and adjust the towel a little bit tighter around my waist. With her still looking away, I tucked my cock between my thighs, holding it there, so it wouldn't show. It seemed to work and she turned around. "Ready, ma'am." I said quietly, really hoping to get out of this unscathed. She turned back around. "Oh, this protrusion…" She mumbled. I immediately checked my towel, but nothing showed.
Then she placed a hand on my shoulder. "I was worried about this." She mumbled to herself. She gripped my arm and with about as much warning as Coach gave, she wrenched it out. I gave a choked groan of pain, but it immediately felt even better than it did. "Almost done. So sorry about this…" She moved to the opposite side of the table and started to massage my shoulder.
I'm not sure she noticed, but doing so put her chest right in my face. I couldn't see anything. I could smell the aroma of her perfume, however, and that seemed to be enough. "There." She said in accomplishment right as my cock throbbed and slapped into the towel, prompting a quiet 'thup.' My face burned bright red and I looked down to see my cock standing straight up in the towel. "Oh." "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Fogelsmeyer. I did—" She stopped me by simply raising her hand. "It's okay, Clay.
It happens." She said with a smile, clearly a little embarrassed just as I was. "Happens to my husband all the time, but just…not as…umm…Anyway, let's just finish up and part ways." She said, going back to massaging my shoulder.
It was different though. It was comfortable and she seemed a little bit distracted.
I would be too. Finally she was done in only a couple minutesand not a word had been spoken between us. And my cock had not softened in the slightest. "All finished, Clay. How do you feel?" "Embarrassed.
Ashamed." I said quietly. "Physically, I mean." "Better. Thank you, ma'am." "All part of my job, Clay." She said with a smile. "Now, go get dressed and get out of here." "Umm…" I swung my legs off the table and hurried off to where my clothes were sitting by the door.
I pulled on my shorts, the bulge of my cock still visible. I packed up my stuff and pulled on a shirt and my shoes then tossed my backpack on and pushed the door, only to find it still blocked.
I tried if a few more times, but no dice. Even as Raylene showed up, ready to go, it would not budge. "What is the problem?" She asked, looking tired of seeing me.
"You don't mean to tell me that—" "We're still stuck in here? Yes." I said, leaning up against the wall.
"I could ram into the door, but whatever is blocking it, would most likely fall forward and I keep hearing rattling, so it sounds like a trophy case." "The trophy cases are on wheels." She said, leaning on the wall as well. "Then the brakes are on. You can try to move it, but it doesn't look good." I said with a sigh.
"Is there someone you can call?" I asked, looking up at her. "Yes." She said, looking at me. I wasn't entirely sure if she had zoned out or if she was thinking or if she was simply staring a hole into my face. It was a little scary, actually because the only thing I envisioned was her shouting at me.
"I heard Kim talking about you today to Audrey. You know Audrey?" "I uhh…I met her at a party. Yeah." I nodded. "Same party you and Kim had sex?" She asked, tilting her head. "Ma'am?" I said, embarrassed. "Clay, we're kind of…past this." She said with a chuckle. "No? Should we talk about your big wardrobe malfunction back there?" "Uhh…I'd rather not, actually." I said, my cheeks bright red.
"It seems you've made quite a name for yourself, already." She sighed and looked me up and down for a moment. "Clay, I'm not really going to make a big deal out of this and you shouldn't either, but I want to deal with your mishap." My eyes widened and my mind was telling my mouth to be calm and not make a big deal out of it, but the first thing that I word-gurgitated up was "Really?" As soon as I said, I wanted to take it back.
Cage the bird just as it escaped. "If you exchange the favor." She said, taking a deep breath. "My husband can't uhh…And I have been on edge for weeks and now I just got done massaging your gorgeous body and now I found out we're trapped in here together." She took my hand, leaving our stuff by the door. "I'm not too sure I would have been able to resist you if you tried." She whispered as she pushed me down on the table.
She seemed nervous, at first, but when she felt how hard I still was, she seemed to get a little more excited. She undid my shorts and hand my boxers down in no time, her fingers wrapped around my cock. "You're still so hard…" She murmured, stroking my thick cock.
Her hand felt incredible. "Did I do this?" She asked quietly, biting her bottom lip. I nodded and locked eyes with her. Her nerves changed to pure lust and she stroked me faster. "I want you…I can't tell you how hot it makes me…seeing these hot young guys get all…hard because of me.
Because of…These." She said, pulling off her shirt and her bra, her perfect perky tits put perfectly within view. "This is the first time I've done anything about it…" "Well, how about you move up here with me and I can do something about it?" I said, my heart beating out of my chest. She smiled and then pulled away from me, turning around.
There was that ass again as she shimmied her pants down her legs, showing the smooth skin of her firm round ass. I would do unspeakable things to that ass. Things I'd never even really thought about doing. She turned around, now completely nude and I took in the sight. Her flat stomach. Her perfect tis.
The small patch of dark hair above her pussy. Without a word, she climbed onto the table and I was waiting anxiously to feel the warmth of her already glistening pussy, but instead she swung her hips over my face.
I came face to face with her pussy and I'd never been more turned on by the prospect of eating someone out before. I had my arms wrapped around her thighs and I was about to dig in when I suddenly felt the warmth of her mouth on my cock. She was incredible. I managed to drag my tongue along her pussy once before I felt her bobbing her head up and down my cock.
I finally regained my composure long enough to attack her clit with my tongue, my arms pulling her down onto tongue. I thrust my tongue inside her and curled it back and forth. I was glad that I had something to focus on that wasn't how good it felt to have her mouth on my dick.
I knew that ever girl had a weak spot. A spot on their body that would drive them up the wall. I was searching for it in her pussy, but the most I got was a low moan no matter what I did. And then I squeezed her ass. She gasped and pulled my cock out of her mouth to moan, her fist still working up and down my cock. I noticed the reaction and started to play with her ass, massaging it harder before dragging my tongue from her clit up and down her pussy.
"Oh, don't stop, Clay…" She whispered huskily, grinding against my face as she went back to sucking my cock. I lapped at her pussy and then almost as second nature, my tongue dragged up and made contact with her asshole.
She screamed and went wild, squirming and shaking. I felt her reach back and get a handful of my hair, pulling me. I kept licking her ass and her moans got higher and higher and higher until she froze, her legs shivering as she finally let out a small whimper and came all over my chin. I felt her stroke me a couple more times before she slipped off the table, leaning on it as she looked over at me.
I cracked a smile as I watched her, but right past her, I noticed a little bit of movement. Raylene was still stroking me, but I couldn't really pay attention to that as I got a better look at the movement, hiding behind a locker. My vision cleared and I saw the familiar face of Kim, looking at us, her hand in her shorts.