TEENAGE SOCCER STUDS by JUSTIN SHORTS scott_justin51@hotmail.com
For lovers of lads in shorts and briefs
The school bell had sounded more than an hour ago, but Mark was still working in the sixth-form common room. Everyone else had gone home, but Mark was determined to get his English homework completed before he left, so that he had the weekend free. He had an important soccer match on Saturday afternoon, and certainly didn't want any school work hanging over him, waiting to be completed. He was well disciplined like this: once he set his mind to complete a task, he would see it through.
Mark was a good-looking lad; fair-haired, blue eyes, and a popular 17-year old who was in his final year before heading off for university. He was highly regarded by staff too, and had been appointed head boy a few weeks ago. His Shakespeare essay was nearing completion, and as he put a few concluding ideas together he began to relax, happy that the job was done. As so often happened to him after a period of close concentration, he began without warning to feel horny and in need of a jack-off. This usually was something that happened in the privacy of his bedroom, but recently he had begun to notice that these feeling came over him in the oddest of places, and quite without warning.
He thought that maybe he had better head off to the shower room and see to his problem there, but then the excitement and novelty of the moment began to get to him. There was no-one about after all - why not? As he sat at the desk, with his completed work in front of him, he began lightly to caress his young body through his uniform. First he gently stroked his chest through his white shirt, before undoing the buttons at the front so that he could smooth and press his warm flesh. With his other hand he began to stroke himself through his black trousers, feeling the first stirrings of his teenage packet pressing firmly through the confining material.
After a few moments he stood up, and walked over to face the long mirror on the opposite wall. It was full-length, and he excited himself by gazing into it. He now undid the shirt completely so that it fell wide open, the whiteness of the material forming a brilliant contrast with the jet-black of his tightening trousers. Mark stroked himself lovingly through the front of his trousers, feeling his swelling cockmeat getting ever more urgent for his touch. With both hands now he began to work on his mound, stroking and firming himself, making out the shape of the growing shaft and the silky softness of his balls. Quickly now he released the catch at the top of his trousers, and slid down the zip, and the tight school trousers parted at the front. He eased them down his thighs, and stood looking at himself in the mirror.
Mark was wearing a pair of powder-blue silk boxers, shiny and cut quite short, so that they stretched temptingly across the front of his teenbulge. The youngster was now feeling incredibly horny, and brought his hand down to the silk boxers and massaged himself, enjoying the feeling of his now hard shaft with its fleshy mushroom cockhead pushing urgently through the silky texture of his boxers. With regular strokes he began to masturbate himself through the material, with his other hand stroking his flat smooth stomach. His hand movements quickened, and he could feel the build-up of boyspunk in his balls. He wanted desperately to shoot his creamy teencum now.
After a few more moments of delicious wanking through silk, he slipped his hand down inside the blue boxers and grasped his wet agitated teenmeat. His foreskin moved freely backwards and forwards, and drops of his precum honeyjuice made his boxers damp. His nearly seven inches of soccerstud boyflesh was grasped firmly in his hand, and he stroked himself towards cum heaven. He flipped his quivering cockhead free from the top of his boxers then, and watching himself excitedly in the mirror he moved fast towards and then tumbled over the edge of his orgasm. A wad of the most deliciously creamy teenage boycum pumped from the teenager's shaft and splattered to the floor, and the sensation was overpoweringly pleasurable as the thick pearly cream jetted out.
At that very instant, at the very moment that the whitehot spunkload shot its creamy juices from Mark's quivering teendick, a sight that he enjoyed to the full in the reflection of the mirror, he was horrified to see reflected the door behind him open and Justin Matthews, the student teacher who took him for Maths, standing watching. Of course, there was nothing Mark could do to recover. His jet of white boycum was already surging forth from his cockmeat, and it went on and on, pumping one of the most juicy loads of teencream that he had ever managed to produce. Mark flushed as he came to the end of his spunkoff, but noticed that Mr Matthews was just as red in the face as he was.
In a voice that sounded as if he was having difficulty keeping control, the student teacher said. 'I think that we had better discuss this further, don't you? This is not the time or place. Come to my flat tomorrow afternoon. I'll write the address down for you.'
'But sir, I have to play soccer in the afternoon.'
'Then come straight after the match.' With that the young teacher (himself only 22) wrote down an address, which was actually quite close to the soccer ground, and left, leaving Mark to dress himself and mop up the thick pool of spunk with some paper towels. He felt mortified, being discovered wanking himself off like that, and in school of all places! He couldn't imagine how he was going to explain himself to Mr Matthews, though to be fair he had always seemed very approachable - it helped that he was so close in age to the lads that he taught. Mark headed off home, the recent sensation of his orgasm still very pleasant, but rather spoiled by the worry of how he was going to cope with the meeting the next day.
As it turned out, the soccer game was a good one, and Mark acquitted himself well. The lads were playing a neighbouring college team, and won 2-0. Although Mark was a striker, he didn't score on this occasion, but got plenty of action. Even so, every now and then his mind would be distracted as he thought of the ordeal that was to follow. After the match, Mark changed quickly and hurried away before the other lads could ask him to go for a drink: he didn't want to have to try to make an excuse as an explanation of why he couldn't join them. He easily found Justin Matthew's address, and rang the bell.
After a few moments the door opened, and Mr Matthews ushered him in. In school, the teacher would of course wear jacket and tie; today he was as casually dressed as Mark himself, in open-necked shirt and jeans. Mark was carrying his kit in his sports bag, having changed into white teeshirt and faded blue jeans. He followed Mr Matthews up the stairs, as his flat was on the first floor.
'How did the fame go? Did we win?'
'Yes sir, 2 nil.'
'Good, and by the way we're not in school now, so call me Justin, please. To be honest I always it find it uncomfortable when the boys address me in the formal way. I know that you have to, but it still feels awkward to me'
They went into Justin's sitting room, which was quite large, and he invited Mark to sit on the large settee. As Mark sat down, Justin said 'I thought that with your interest in soccer, you might fight this video interesting. I looked it out before you came.' He pushed a video into the machine, and after a few seconds a picture began to flicker into life on the big television screen that seemed to take up half of one side of the room. It seemed to be a home-made video, as there were no introductory titles, but showed the inside of a soccer changing-room. It appeared to be empty, but then the door opened and Mark immediately spotted that the youngster who came into the changing room, in full club kit, was the England and Liverpool star Michael Owen.
'Are you a fan of his?' asked Justin, quietly.
'Of course, he's absolutely brilliant. Such pace and...' Mark stopped in mid-sentence, as he was amazed to see that Owen had turned to the camera, smiled his cheeky fresh grin, and was now beginning quite purposefully and deliberately to stroke himself through the shiny red nylon of his Umbro kit, still looking straight at the camera. The camera moved in closer, and focussed on the front of the nylon shorts, and the screen was now filled with his rubbing hand.
'God, how did you get this?'
'With difficulty, I can tell you. Better not ask. Just watch.'
Open-mouthed, Mark sat back on the settee and watched the action unfold in front of his eyes. The camera had pulled out again, and Michael Owen had begun to to massage his growing mound in regular strokes. Mark could see that the nylon shorts were pressing outwards as the footballer's mound began to bulge and grow. Still he rubbed himself, in long pleasuring strokes, up and down the length of his teenshaft. Mark was aware that Justin was sitting by him now on the settee, and perhaps wasn't too surprised when he felt Justin rest his hand very gently on his thigh. Mark was really confused now. He had come expecting a really difficult time trying to explain away what had happened the previous day, and now, within 5 minutes of entering the flat, he was watching a homemade video of England's brightest soccer hope wanking himself in his nylon shorts, whilst his teacher would appear to be about to try something on himself.
Mark continued to concentrate on the video, which he now realised did have sound too, and he could hear the heavy breathing of the England superstar as he stroked himself in his shorts. Skilfully, Justin began to take control, and Mark could feel the hand on his thigh move across to the front and cup him gently. Mark instinctively opened his legs wider, to give Justin easier access. Justin responded by feeling Mark up through his tight blue jeans, not roughly in any sense, far from it, gently but insistently, making out the shape of the youngster's now stiffening teenmeat. So as Mark gazed at the screen, watching intently as Michael Owen began to build towards an explosive spunk session in the locker room, his own teenage packet of joy began to be given the close attention it deserved.
Suddenly Justin stopped, and Mark felt disappointed as he was enjoying the feeling of the young man's hand stroking up and down the growing length of his hardening cock through his jeans. But he need not have worried, because Justin immediately dropped to his knees and got between Mark's legs. As Mark watched the on-screen wanking, Justin leant downwards and breathed in the heady aroma of the teenage cockmound through the bulging jean pouch. He started massaging Mark's hard meat again, making out the soft silkiness of the youngster's ballsack. With both hands now, Justin began the exquisite task of undoing the lad's jeans, first the catch at the top, then slowly easing the zipper downwards. On the video, the camera at this moment closed up again into Michael Owen's nylon shorts, just as the soccer stud slid his hand down the front inside to get a good grasp of his hot hard teenmeat. Mark watched in delighted amazement as Michael began in slow strokes to bring himself off in his shorts.
Justin had by now parted the flaps of Mark's blue jeans, and revealed the warm flesh of his stomach. He pushed the bright white teeshirt upwards above Mark's hard young nipples. Justin pressed his face tight to the flat stomach of his 17-year-old visitor, which was warm and firm. Then he moved downwards again, and slipped his hand gently downward inside the open jeans.
Further down still he went, and his fingers made contact with the top of Mark's briefs. Justin's expert touch made out the distinct texture of nylon, and he almost fainted in his pleasure. Nylon briefs on a teenager was his all-time favourite; preferably white or cream ones which showed the cockmeat through when damp. And Mark's were certainly getting damp!
'He pushed his hand down further inside the jeans, and Mark obligingly lifted himself slight to ease his access. Justin's hand covered the front of the youngster's bulging mound, pushing the nylon briefs into his teacher's hand. He stroked and rubbed the silky nylon material, rubbing it over and over again, feeling the throbbing cockhead which the teenager was eagerly offering to him.
By now Michael Owen's on-screen wanking was reaching fever-pitch, and Mark was beginning to breath as heavily as the soccer star. Owen moved to a bench and lay prone, still in full kit, and the camera followed him. Then the camera repositioned in such a way as to be slightly above Michael, looking downwards, so it captured every detail in sharp focus as the panting lad pulled his nylon shorts very slightly away at the front: the camera looked down into them, and the boy's masturbating hand could be seen jerking his hard young cock, the foreskin moving freely and the cockhead wet with his slick precum.
Mark meanwhile was enjoying the sensation of being rubbed off in his nylon briefs. Justin was doing everything by feel so far, and very nice it was too, but he really wanted to get a sight of the boy's briefs. So he tugged more insistently at Mark's jeans, with the result that Marked raised his back slightly and Justin was able to ease them right down. To Justin's great delight, Mark opened his legs even wider, so that his nylon cock packet was fully exposed to the teacher's lustful gaze. Mark's briefs were a brilliant white, and the teenager's precum was making them seethrough in places. Justin returned to his massaging of the boy's cockmeat through the tight nylon, now much easier with the jeans removed.
Mark gasped suddenly, as Michael Owen reached the point of no return. The video recorded every detail in glorious close-up (with noisy soundtrack of Owen's climaxing cries) as the lad released his explosion of creamy teencum into the red nylon Liverpool shorts. Some of the pearls of spunk oozed over the outside of the shorts, deliciously creamy against the red background, but much of the cum was contained inside the stud's shorts.
Mark began to be more aware now of what was happening to him, and he looked downwards for the first time to take in the full impact of what was happening between his legs. Justin's mouth was moving close over the front of his white nylon briefs, and then suddenly Justin was actually sucking the warm nylon. Instinctively, Mark began to push himself into Justin's face, his bucking boymeat entering Justin's eager mouth. Justin head-bobbed the youngster expertly, slowly but surely bringing him nearer to his creaming.
'Oh suck my cock in my briefs. I want to fill my briefs with my hot creamy cum. Make me shoot my boyjizz soon. I want to shoot my spunk for you. Make me do it.' Mark could not believe that he was shouting such things, things that he had never imagined before as happening to him. But he was so hot for it now, and just wanted to give as much pleasure as he was receiving. He therefore pulled Justin onto the settee with him, but not for a moment did Justin stop sucking Mark through his bursting briefs. Mark pulled Justin's jeans open, and tugged the zip downwards. The jeans parted, and with a bit more tugging he got them down, and was presented with a pair of transparent nylon briefs as sexy as his own, absolutely bursting with the large cock and balls just about contained within. Justin's throbbing cock was moving agitatedly in his briefs, and Mark was presented with the fantastic sight of Justin's own hand sliding down and inside his briefs to masturbate himself.
Mark knew that he was going to cum his load in a few moments, and quite wanted to fill up his briefs with his spunk. He didn't know if Justin would let him do that, but Justin seemed to have the same thing in mind as a few seconds later the two young men reached fulfilment. They were not quite in unison: first Mark's arched his back and emptied a load of his pearly teencum into the tightly-fitting white briefs, so that they were heavy and soaking with spunk. And then a few moments later, Justin removed his own hand from his briefs and feeling himself through the transparent nylon enjoyed the most wonderful sensation as he exploded a thick load of his hot creamy cum. Mark could see Justin's cum pumping into his briefs, as juicy and hot as his own.
The video had finished. After a moment, Justin said: 'shall we replay it?'
Mark smiled. 'Too right', he said, 'but not before I change into my kit.'
Justin smiled, and pressed the rewind button.
If you enjoyed this, let me know by sending me a hot message, and suggesting fantasies for new stories. scott_justin51@hotmail.com