Moving into My Place?
Ben pretty much moved into my place on the weekends after that. We lived our own lives during the week, but on the weekend, we were boyfriends. We went to things together. We did everything together.
He introduced me to his football buddies. There was some hesitation to begin with, from a couple of the guys, apparently.
One of the guys, Andre, the red-haired ruck, had a problem with Ben being in the showers with him. He was worried Ben would look at him. But then a couple of the other players, Tank and Griff, told him that they’d all looked at him, sized him up, and mentally recorded how big his dick was compared to everyone else’s.
“I look at your little dick,” said Tank. “What’s the difference if it is me, or Ben?”
“I’m fascinated with your red pubes,” said Griff. “So much so I’ve been tempted to come over and run my hand through them to see if they feel as different as they look.”
All the other guys laughed. Andre blushed.
Big, hunky Nick Kennedy said, “I don’t care, you can ogle my cock anytime you like, Ben. I’ll take it as a compliment.”
Several of the other players agreed. “I’ve got a great arse, I know that,” said blonde Jacob Ryan. “I should have been gay myself with the arse I’ve got. I’m sure you have already had a good look, and I am good with that, mate.”
Ben reported many more slaps on his bare arse in the showers after the match, which he interpreted as the other players over compensating in their acceptance of him.
Grant Riddle stayed in the showers for an inordinately long time with Ben chatting. I just wanted to switch off by that stage and let he tension be washed out of me, said Ben. All of that coming out to your mates is hard work. But, I think, Grant wanted to prove he was really okay being in the shower naked with me.
Eventually, it was decided that if I was “the wife” of one of the players, then the guys were all happy to have me around.
The wording was a gay man’s wet dream. Not. The wife, seriously, but I accept that the intension was meant well.
But, then, I didn’t get to go into the change rooms. They had history with Ben, so that was okay, they were cool with him, but they didn’t have history with me.
I think, maybe, I may have been a little too stoned and a little too enthusiastic the first time I was in the change rooms after a match, so I may not be completely blameless. The smell, the sights, the straight boy horsing around, I mean it could spin a gay boy’s head.
Ben suggested to me that as an honouree wife, I probably shouldn’t come into the change rooms until the girls did, which was definitely after all the showering and dressing was completed.
Perhaps, I should have been outraged, but truthfully, I couldn’t help but admire their schtick. Wife of a player, infuckendeed.
You see, the thing was, even if they wouldn’t put it quite this way, Ben is a really good player and a really great guy and all his football buddies already love him like a brother, so it wasn’t such a stretch for them all in this day and age.
“Before I knew you were sticking it to Josh, and after I know you are sticking it to Josh, you are still the same guy,” said shaggy-haired, pot smoking Brandon Reece. “Nothing has changed.”
He introduced me to his football buddies. There was some hesitation to begin with, from a couple of the guys, apparently.
One of the guys, Andre, the red-haired ruck, had a problem with Ben being in the showers with him. He was worried Ben would look at him. But then a couple of the other players, Tank and Griff, told him that they’d all looked at him, sized him up, and mentally recorded how big his dick was compared to everyone else’s.
“I look at your little dick,” said Tank. “What’s the difference if it is me, or Ben?”
“I’m fascinated with your red pubes,” said Griff. “So much so I’ve been tempted to come over and run my hand through them to see if they feel as different as they look.”
All the other guys laughed. Andre blushed.
Big, hunky Nick Kennedy said, “I don’t care, you can ogle my cock anytime you like, Ben. I’ll take it as a compliment.”
Several of the other players agreed. “I’ve got a great arse, I know that,” said blonde Jacob Ryan. “I should have been gay myself with the arse I’ve got. I’m sure you have already had a good look, and I am good with that, mate.”
Ben reported many more slaps on his bare arse in the showers after the match, which he interpreted as the other players over compensating in their acceptance of him.
Grant Riddle stayed in the showers for an inordinately long time with Ben chatting. I just wanted to switch off by that stage and let he tension be washed out of me, said Ben. All of that coming out to your mates is hard work. But, I think, Grant wanted to prove he was really okay being in the shower naked with me.
Eventually, it was decided that if I was “the wife” of one of the players, then the guys were all happy to have me around.
The wording was a gay man’s wet dream. Not. The wife, seriously, but I accept that the intension was meant well.
But, then, I didn’t get to go into the change rooms. They had history with Ben, so that was okay, they were cool with him, but they didn’t have history with me.
I think, maybe, I may have been a little too stoned and a little too enthusiastic the first time I was in the change rooms after a match, so I may not be completely blameless. The smell, the sights, the straight boy horsing around, I mean it could spin a gay boy’s head.
Ben suggested to me that as an honouree wife, I probably shouldn’t come into the change rooms until the girls did, which was definitely after all the showering and dressing was completed.
Perhaps, I should have been outraged, but truthfully, I couldn’t help but admire their schtick. Wife of a player, infuckendeed.
You see, the thing was, even if they wouldn’t put it quite this way, Ben is a really good player and a really great guy and all his football buddies already love him like a brother, so it wasn’t such a stretch for them all in this day and age.
“Before I knew you were sticking it to Josh, and after I know you are sticking it to Josh, you are still the same guy,” said shaggy-haired, pot smoking Brandon Reece. “Nothing has changed.”
Comments
Post a Comment