Game Over. Game On - Sex Stories

Game Over. Game On

... the room where two hours earlier the team had bounced as one in their pre match warm up. The overwhelming smell then was of heat rub and liniment. The odour now was a mix of sweat, mud and an assortment of smellies, with the overriding one being the team smellies that were duly expired in keeping with this being the last game of the season. It was an environment that I’d miss. I dug out my shower gel and towel, kicked off my shorts, socks and briefs (I'd never worn a Jockstrap, I'd always liked my arse covered!) and headed off to the showers for one last time. I flounced my cock and balls in a cupped hand as I made the short journey and smiled at the age old technique of hiding my embarrassment this way, walking around naked in a deserted building. As I reached the shower room, Clive, the old groundsman, was just about to lock up and cursed my presence as he clocked me. "Ah for fucks sake, there's always one!" he said. I laughed. "Lock the door. I'll go out the fire exit you grumpy old sod. You can run ahead and set me one up." I said He smiled a toothless grin and quickly swept through before spiriting away to the club. I walked into the showers and, standing in a corner, turned two on and stood myself between the flows. The water immediately found a stud mark from a rucking to my back and I winced and sucked my teeth as it stung the welted graze. I'd miss that like a dose of clap, I thought and started soaping down my body. I must admit that the solitude was welcome. ...

... Just the ghosts of this and other games rattling my subconscious. I lathered the gel in my hands and spread it over my chest and upper arms. I have to admit that, although nowhere near as fit as I was only five years ago, my physique remained better than most guys my age as I rubbed my aching muscles with a pseudo erotic pleasure. I rubbed the soap into my torso, pressing my fingers into the muscles of my chest and arms. I applied more of the mint gel into my groin and along the length of my flaccid shaft, which responded slightly to the treatment with a touch of wind. My left hand worked gel around my backside and into my cleft. My right worked the suds into my low hanging balls, loose from the heat of the water. The mint gel worked the trick that I'd grown to like, and my balls began to tingle from the tea tree oil as did the tight hole of my arse. I went back to working the suds into my responding cock, slipping my hand along the length of its engorging flesh before pulling the foreskin back to clean my helmet. The tea tree oil took effect, and the rim of my helmet took on the cold, slightly burning tingle. I began to stroke deeper and harder as my cock stiffened, safe in the knowledge that I was locked in alone, yet still with that slight fear of being caught and mocked or shamed by mates of various ages. 'Fuck 'em,' I thought and stroked faster on my now fully erect member. I gripped the rigid flesh tightly in my fist trying to emulate a tight pussy, alternating strokes; ...