Rugby Tales

By Rugby Stud

Published on Oct 5, 2002

Gay

This story is copyrighted (c) 2002 to rugbystud@hotmail.com and first posted on the Nifty Erotic Stories Archive website. It may not be copied or posted or transmitted in any way except in its entirety and with this disclaimer.

I've had some great comments about my rugby stories so far (thanks to everyone who wrote) and it got me thinking about other stuff that's happened over the years. This is one that happened when I was in school and is probably the first time I realised that it was the male body that turned me on.

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Any boy who ever went to school in Wales would have had to do rugby during sports lessons. Not just the odd game, but week after week of practice, games between teams in the school, games between local schools, every combination possible. Thanks to the Welsh weather, you'd end up covered in cold mud by the end of the games lesson and have to shower before the next class. Or in my case it was before going home, as for most of the seven years I was in comprehensive school, Games was the last lesson of the day.

My best mate at the time was a guy called Huw and we used to do everything together in school and outside school too. We didn't live that close to each other (the comprehensive school was a Welsh medium education one and had a huge catchment area) but that meant we'd have to sleep over a lot in each other's houses. We talked to each other about everything and pissed about a lot. We weren't shy physically around each other either, comparing cock size, discussing hard-ons, pubic hair growth that sort of thing. Nothing ever really happened between us though, just that we were both typical horny teenagers and wanked off together, but never watching or helping each other.

One late autumn week, when we were about fifteen I think, after a rugby lesson, he and I had to pack all the gear away. Huw lived close to the school and we were going to walk home to his house. The rest of the class had showered and gone, but we realised that we'd left some of the rugby balls up on the top field. We jogged back to get them and took them back to the games store room to put them away.

The games block was apart from the rest of the school, connected only by a paved pathway through the netball and tennis courts. Inside there was a large gym on the left as you walked in and the changing rooms were on the right. The changing rooms were in a row of five connected rooms; the boys' changing rooms being the farthest one, then the male teachers, the storeroom was in the middle, then the female teachers' room and finally the nearest to the doors were the girls changing rooms. All five rooms opened onto the corridor, but inside there were doors connecting each room to the next, to allow teachers to get into the stores and keep an eye on whichever class was changing at the time. There were fanlights above the internal doors to let a bit of natural light in when the lights were turned off.

Huw and I put the rugby balls into their basket in the storeroom and were about to cut through the male teachers' room to the changing room when we heard voices. It was the male gym teachers in their room.

"Lucky we heard them", whispered Huw, "If Greasy had caught us, he'd have given us a right bollocking." The teachers' rooms were out of bounds to pupils.

Of the two male teachers, Mr Rees was the least popular - in fact he was one of the least popular out of the entire teaching staff, which was saying something. He treated each and every male pupil like dirt and always spent more time showing off his own very fit body and telling everyone else that they'd never be as fit or healthy as him. He thought very highly of himself and would always be trying to flirt with the prettier teachers and older girl pupils. This had earned him the nickname Greasy Reesy. Mr Edwards, the other male games teacher, was nicer but both would have been pissed off to see two pupils taking a short cut through their staff room.

From the conversation, it was clear that Mr Edwards was just leaving. Greasy was obviously not quite ready to leave. I don't know what gave Huw the idea but he held my arm in a "hang on a minute" sort of gesture. We heard Greasy moving about, then Huw whispered "He's locked the connecting doors, both ways. What's he doing that for?"

I shrugged but was just as curious. I pointed to an old vaulting horse and whispered back "Let's put that by the door, stand on it and have a look through the fanlight."

We hadn't bothered to put the lights on in the storeroom, having only intended to be there for a few minutes, so we weren't too worried about our heads being silhouetted in the fanlight. We climbed up and peered through the glass.

Greasy was in the process of changing out of his rugby kit and was only wearing a jockstrap, his socks and rugby boots. This caught my eye as I hadn't seen an adult wearing anything like this and as his back was turned to us, I had a perfect view of his arse cheeks framed by the grimy white straps. These days of course, I've got quite a few pictures of jock-framed arses, but this was the first time "live". Huw grunted in disgust and was about to jump down when Greasy began posing in front of the mirror, like some sort of body builder.

Huw and I had to stifle a few laughs as we thought he looked like a complete twat. I can also remember thinking though that he looked pretty fit. As he posed one way, then the other, I could see his jockstrap pouch swing back and forth. It was filled out very well - he must have had big balls and a healthy piece of cock in there. We were both fascinated by this sight but got an even bigger shock a few moments later.

Greasy grabbed the pouch and began squeezing the whole thing, rolling his dick and balls around and all the while watching himself in the mirror. As we both watched in awed and shocked silence, the pouch material began to swell outwards.

"Fuckin' hell, Greasy's getting a stiffy," whispered Huw, his voice was almost hoarse with surprise. Then we both gasped as Greasy pulled the material outwards and to the side and let his semi-hard cock and hairy balls flop out. He took his swinging cock in his fist and started to squeeze it slowly. He was still watching himself in the mirror and obviously loving the sight of his jockstrap clad body and hardening cock.

"You don't think he's going to . . . ." I whispered.

"Nah, he can't be . . ." answered Huw, disbelievingly.

But Greasy was going to . . . very definitely!

His time-honoured hand action and self-admiration had produced the expected effect and the first adult male hard-on I'd ever seen was on full display for us. Memory can cheat, but I remember it being about eight or nine inches long with a huge cockhead and a snug dickskin that, as we watched, was being pulled back and forth over the shiny head.

"He's having a wank!" whispered Huw in amazement, as fascinated as I was by this show despite himself. "He's having a fucking wank!"

We both watched as Greasy's pumping action got faster and faster. He was leaning against the small desk, arse cheeks just resting on the desktop, legs splayed apart and he jacked himself with his left hand whilst rubbing his chest with his right hand. Still, he watched himself in the mirror.

We watched our rugby teacher wanking himself off for what seemed like ages and we could hear his moaning becoming louder. Suddenly he stood up, legs splayed apart and bent over. While his left hand seemed to keep on stroking the hard shaft of his cock, his right hand moved around his body to his arse cheeks. One long index finger began to probe his now visible arsehole.

Huw wasn't impressed by this but I was very interested, never really having thought of an arsehole as being anything to do with sex.

Greasy continued with this double-action for a while. His right index finger had vanished up his arsehole and his arsecheeks were rock solid as he was clearly clamping down hard. He shifted over to the washbasin and rested his balls over the edge, his dickroot pressing down on the cool enamel.

His wanking got more urgent, he began to shudder and his thigh muscles looking like marble. His left fist became a blur and his right jabbed at his arse more frantically. Then, after a few minutes of this almost desperate action, he gave out a loud, groaned "Oh yeah" and his cock sprayed a massive load of spunk all over the sink; shot after shot until it became a steady dribble into the bowl.

Greasy stood there for a few minutes, recovering, then licked his fingers clean. Huw nearly gagged and I felt faintly disgusted too (I know better now!). Greasy kicked off his boots and socks, stepped out of his jockstrap and ran the taps, cleaning his hands and the sink. Then he unlocked the door to the boys changing rooms and headed for the showers.

Huw and I looked at each other.

"Fuck" Huw said.

"Fuck" I agreed.

I looked down, about to jump off the vaulting horse but Huw's trousers caught my gaze. I looked back up at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Don't give me that shit" he said, patting the front of my trousers, which were in a similar state. We both laughed quietly, jumped down and moved the vaulting horse back in to place, then left quietly by the store room door. We could hear the shower running as we left the building.

We talked about nothing else on the way back to his house. Later on, probably after midnight, we were both in bed - him in his and me on a camp bed next to him and both nicely buzzed on some cheap cider he'd got hold of and smuggled in to his room. We were both sort of highly charged - I mean at 15, pissed and having witnessed a live porn act who wouldn't be?

It was probably the cider, but Huw decided to pretend to be Mr Rees having a wank and proceeded to do just that, pulling the back of his briefs up his arse like a thong and waving his dick and balls at me after pulling them out of the side. After he'd finished some very poor but really funny play acting, he'd got a semi-hard-on and we turned off the lights. A ritual wank in darkness was the form for us, I mean, watching would be queer wouldn't it?

Although I always told Huw everything else, I held back on telling him how much I'd been really been turned on by Greasy's wanking show. And by how much I now wanted some light on when Huw and I wanked off together. My mind kept picturing the events in the gym as I lay there wanking and hearing Huw's breathing and the unmistakable slap of his own hand wanking himself. I think it was then, during that night and probably at that very moment, I realised that I was seriously interested in men and cocks.

Seeing an adult having a wank and seeing what an adult male cock looked like hard and shooting cum, changed the way I felt about a lot of things. I've seen, held, tasted and felt inside me bigger cocks than the one I saw that day and also seen, held, tasted and felt inside me better men than Greasy ever was. But I can picture this man and his cock so clearly after twenty years, that it still makes me really horny. And also explains why I find wanking into sinks such a turn on!

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Comments or criticisms to rugbystud@hotmail.com. As always, I love my inbox to be like my rugby players - a full basket for me to explore!

Next: Chapter 10: Rugby Revenge Fuck 1


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