Football Encounter

With my growth spurt the summer after 8th grade, I made the football team my freshman year of high school. While I was fairly skinny, my speed and agility was good enough at least to start as a slot receiver. While the heftier guys with good hands were the tight ends and the faster black guys got the wide receiver positions, I still got a good share of downs and catches.

Our freshman team would frequently scrimmage the JV team and there was a particular linebacker, Virgil, who had it in for me. He was about my height but weighed a good 20-30 pounds more than I did. But he wasn’t near as fast as I was and he seemed kind of clumsy at times. This probably explains why he could only make the JV team as a junior. There were times I’d make a move after a catch and he’d be embarrassed with a missed tackle. But when he was able to tackle me, he would unload the full fury of his frustrations on me along with a lot of unneccessary trash talk.

It didn’t take long for the trash talk to escalate, especially if I’d burn him on reception when he was supposed to be covering me, I’d get right back in his face. As the weeks went on, the hatred was mutual. After one particular scrimmage where neither of us had gotten the better of each other, he took a cheap shot late hit after I was already tackled and in retalitation, I thrust my forearm under his face mask and we started wrestling and brawling on the ground. With his greater mass and strength, while on his knees he was able to pick me up with his left arm around my neck and his right hand between my legs and smash me on the ground before the coaches were able to break up the fight. We both had to sit out the remainder of the scrimmage and then run laps as punishment.

As we stood on opposite ends of the sideline, I remember thinking how Virgil’s hand seemed to purposefully grip my crotch rather than the more typical wrestling move of grabbing the inside of my thigh. Not only was the breath knocked out of me when he slammed me on the ground, but I also felt racked by his grip on my balls. I remember thinking to myself “should I consider wearing a cup for any future scrimmage — just in case?”

By the time we finished running our laps, we walked back to the locker room with me leading him since I finished first while the rest of the team were exiting to go home. We were the only ones left in the lockerroom besides one of the assistant coaches who was still in the office that adjoined the locker room. Thankfully Virgil’s and my lockers were on separate aisles while getting undressed for our showers (our head coach had a policy of making us always shower after practice for some reason — I’d would have preferred to avoid confrontation and headed straight home) as I needed to stretch out my ball sack after Virgil’s grip seemed to have compressed my nuts higher within my jock strap normally did. I’m sure Virgil would have taken some satisfaction in that!

I could hear the shower start running so I knew that Virgil had already entered. Our showers were in one large room with several shower heads spaced about five feet apart with a couple of drains in the middle of the room. As I walked with my towel, shower, and bar of soap to the shower room, the assistant coach turned off the light in his office and stopped at the entrance of the shower room and yelled “Virgil, whoever leaves last make sure the door closes and is locked when you leave.” I nodded “OK coach”, and he left, leaving Virgil and I alone in the locker room. I wasn’t exactly comfortable with that, but didn’t want to be perceived as a wimp with the coach. I knew that there still custodians in the school but didn’t figure any would show up in the locker room until later that evening.

I went to a shower head farthest away which was diagonally opposite from the one Virgil was at and could see that he had already soaped up and was rinsing off. With my back to Virgil, I first rinshed off the sweat and grime from the scrimmage, and then I stepped out of the shower spray and started soaping my body with the bar of soap. After applying shampoo to my hair, I started working it in and that’s when Virgil struck.

I was totally surprised when Virgil approached me from behind, slipping his left arm between my raised arm and neck putting a choke hold on me, and with his right arm grabbed me around the waist and squeezed. I tried to break his choke hold but my hands were slippery because of the soap and I could feel him press his body against me, including his hanging dick against my butt crack. I was able to twist around and get in a few weak blows with my fists to his ribs but he just squeezed his choke hold harder, although I could tell he wasn’t squeezing as hard as I knew his superior strength would have allowed.

I slammed my right heel on top of of his right foot which caused him to almost lose his right arm’s grip and that’s when he repeated his crotch move — only this time, I was naked and his grip encompassed my entire dick and balls! With my dick between his right hand’s thumb and forefinger and the rest of fingers squeezing my nuts, I tried to struggle but every time I tried to hit him or stomp his feet, he would squeeze both my windpipe and balls harder and the pain became unbearable.

I eventually stopped struggling in defeat and once I stood still, he relaxed his grip somewhat and started talking trash in my ear. With a sinister rasp in his voice, he told me that from now on, when he was covering me on a pass route, that he would let me catch the ball but that I would have to let him tackle me right afterwards, without making it obvious to the coaches and players. He said if I didn’t, that he’d squeeze my dick and balls so hard that I’d never get another hard on or have kids. I didn’t respond right away and he squeezed my dick and balls as a warning and finally I grunted an “OK”.

While he continued to hold me in this position and talking more trash, his grip began to relax. With his grip on my dick and balls being lubricated by the soap, I could feel my dick starting to stiffen. Virgil didn’t say anything at first, but I could also feel his dick start to press upwards against my butt crack as it too started to harden. Virgil pressed his entire body against mine and said “well, I guess I didn’t hurt you too bad since your starting to get off down there” wiggling my semi-hard dick up and down while he said it. I said, “I’m not ‘getting off’, it’s just the soap and your hand causing that. And besides, what’s that I feel in my butt crack?”

Virgil ignored the last comment and said “I betcha I can get you off!” and he loosened his grip and started fondling my dick and balls. With the soapy water and his expert touch, I was fully erect in a matter of seconds. When I tried to resist, he tightened his grip around my neck. I stopped fighting him and soon his fist was around my dick and he was stroking it faster and faster while I could feel his big hard dick fighting to point upwards but contained within my butt crack. It wasn’t long until my resistance gave out and I stiffened and came, squirting my cum against the wall and shower floor.

I was beaten, defeated, and shamed. He pushed me down on my hands and knees with my head in the shower spray. Then he sat on my back like a cowboy on a horse slapping me on both sides of my head. I could feel his ball sack resting on my backbone and they felt a lot larger than I remember seeing them. Then he spun around and was facing backwards, slapping my ass, each hand alternatively striking one of my butt cheeks. He reached down and picked up my bar of soap and started rubbing it up and down my butt crack and up and against my now shriveled dick and balls. He either let go or the soap accidentally slipped out of his hand but he continued to use his hand to rub, occassionally gripping and squeezing my balls. Soon his rubbing included having his finger probe my asshole. Eventually he got two fingers in and proceeded to finger fuck my virgin ass.

Finally he got up off of me and grabbed my hair to force me to stand up. He turned me around while I wiped the water from my eyes and for the first time saw his big dick and balls surrounded with pubic hair. He saw me looking and said “pretty impressive, eh? Especially compared to your little boy’s dick.” He was fully erect and held his dick pointed right above mine, shriveled as it was, to accentuate the difference in size. Back then, mine was at best five inches but his was probably at least seven inches and much thicker than mine. Plus, my pubic hair still was relatively sparse given my late start.

Virgil took my hand and placed it around his dick and said “your turn” and I slowly started to stroke him, feeling even more shame that I had had when he stroked me. He bent down and handed the bar of soap to my other hand and said “here, use this too, and both hands”. His dick was long enough that I could grip it with both of my hands! My stroking wasn’t keeping pace for him and he told me to go faster, reaching around and up to grip my balls to make sure. I finally gave in and figured the quicker he came, the quicker this would all be over. It wasn’t long before he stiffened, let go of my crotch and grabbed both of my shoulders to steady himself while he shot his load all over my lower abdomen and it trickled down into my pubic hair.

He looked me in the eyes, and this time the hatred seemed to be gone, but he still tried to sound tough and said, “Remember our deal, and never tell anyone about this or your dead.” I remember thinking to myself, no problem, I won’t breath a word to anyone. But I also wondered what he would do if the opportunity presented itself. But that’s another story!

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