Date: Wed, 27 Apr 2022 04:01:20 +0000
From: Leopold Boyce <leopold.boyce@protonmail.com>
Subject: Footy, Foreskins and Falling in Love

Thirteen-year-old Connor finds fun, guidance and love with his footy hero
Jack Casey.

Comments welcome:   leopold.boyce@protonmail.com

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FOOTY, FORESKINS AND FALLING IN LOVE

by Leopold Boyce

Connor's first sexual experience, when he was thirteen, was a very
positive experience. It was with his footy hero, Jack Casey, goal-kicking
star of the Deveston footy team, a young man of twenty-two who lived in
his street. Connor had loved footy since he could walk, and once he'd
joined the Deveston Under 14's side, he got to meet some of the senior
players, including his hero Jack.

During one of the regularly scheduled footy clinics, Jack Casey had said
to Connor during the hand-ball drill, "Hey, don't I know you from
somewhere?"

Connor had gone red as he nodded and said he lived a few doors up from
Jack in Lester Street. Jack had joined Connor and two other boys for a
kick-to-kick in the street just a few days ago. "Yeah, that's right,"
Jack said, with all the other boys looking enviously at Connor, "you're
the boy who can kick a torp, aren't you?"

Connor laughed and said, well, a bit, not real good but he liked trying
to kick 'em. And Jack had got Connor to kick one, right then and there in
front of about twenty other boys. He gave it his best and, while not
perfect, it wobbled along with a reasonable torpedo action.

"Not bad, Slugger," Jack had said, and Connor was floating on air as he
rejoined the other boys!

After that, anytime Jack saw Connor in the street, he'd yell out Hi and
ask some question about footy or something. And Connor got a bit less shy
talking to Jack, and would ask him about the game he'd played on Saturday
and talk enthusiastically about all the amazing things Jack had done at
center half forward.

For his part, Jack was getting used to young boys looking up to him as a
footy star. It was pretty weird at first, but cool, too. Having the
glamour role of center-half-forward made Jack a focal point for boys
dreaming of making it to the big league one day. And Jack found he got
quite a kick out of being able to encourage boys to train hard, strive to
realize their footy dreams. Helping out with the footy clinics made a
nice break, anyway, from the full-on relentless grind that was top-level
footy these days.

It was at the end of the 1983 season that events conspired to bring
Connor and Jack together. Jack twisted his ankle in the very last game,
which prevented him being able to go on the end of year trip to the Gold
Coast. This was quite a blow to the twenty-two year old star. He'd
recently broken up with Brooke, his girlfriend since he was seventeen,
and he'd been looking forward to letting himself go with the booze and
girls now that the demands of the season were over. But the club doctor
was adamant. While his twisted ankle wasn't severe, if he risked it on a
boozy trip away, he could do serious, long-lasting damage.

So Jack stayed home. And refused to answer the phone, quickly getting
sick of his mates ringing up to drunkenly commiserate and fill him in on
the wild goings-on up there.

On the Sunday morning, the very first morning after his injury, Jack was
hobbling on crutches out to his mail box. It was only when he clumsily
reached it that he stopped and said Fuck! -- there being no mail on a
Sunday, goddammit!

As Jack began the long and stumbling trek back indoors, he heard a high
pitched cry of, "Hey, Jack!"

Running up was young Connor and he was wide eyed with concern and
excitement. "I saw you bust your ankle yesterday -- it was when you
landed after trying to mark that long bomb from Jasper. Is it broken?
Does it hurt? It looks bad."

The kid was the first thing to bring a smile to Jack's face since the
injury -- the way he carried on always made Jack laugh. The boy's
enthusiasm for everything and anything Jack did -- it was hard not be
charmed by it. "No serious damage done," Jack said. "As long as I stay
off it for a couple of weeks."

"Lucky it was the last game."

"Well, yeah, unless I was ever thinking of getting laid again," Jack
muttered.

"Huh?"

Jack didn't see any need to censor himself -- he was generally of the
mind if a boy was old enough to play footy, he was old enough to treat
with respect. He said, "The end of year trip. I had to miss it because of
this damn ankle. And you know, footy players get to have sex with a lot
of girls on those trips."

"Oh right!" Connor blushed a bit, but laughed and agreed it sounded
pretty cool. Then he frowned. "But, um, are you married?"

"Married?! Christ no!"

"I thought, um, that woman who lives here..."

"Brooke? She used to live here. Broke it off two weeks ago. Jesus, my
life's a tale of woe, ain't it?"

Connor made a face. "She's crazy."

"Ha! Bloody oath she is -- thanks, bud!"

"And anyway," Connor continued, flushed with success, "you could get
plenty of girlfriends, I bet."

Jack became a little reflective. "Groupies, yeah, no worries, and some of
'em are hot enough -- just they're always batshit crazy along with it."
Then Jack said, "Hey, bud, I can't ask a favour can I?"

"Yeah, sure!" Connor cried, as though offered a spot on the space
shuttle. "What?"

"Well, actually, just to get a toasted sandwich maker down from a top
cupboard. I can't get to the damn thing like this, and it's gunna be my
one off-season luxury -- I'm gunna live on toasted sangers for the next
fortnight."

"Cool, sure," Connor enthused. "I love toasted sangers -- I make 'em all
the time. Cheese and vegemite, usually. Or ham, cheese and tomato. What
do you put in yours?"

And that's how Connor came to spend virtually all his time outside of
school at Jack's place. Connor asked his mum if he could take some time
off school to help Jack -- a request which was firmly denied, but Emily,
Connor's mum, was pretty good in letting her son spend all his spare time
at the footy star's place. And Connor was a real help to Jack. Not just
in fetching stuff so the injured man could stay off his ankle, but Jack
really enjoyed the boy's company. Stopped him falling into a funk, which
had seemed to be looming. Took his mind off all the girls, booze and
mates he was missing. He was such a lively, fun, cheeky, attractive kid
once you got to know him. Smart, too, Jack thought. Did better at the
school stuff than Jack had ever managed. Although the boy always tried to
play that down, thinking footy prowess was all that mattered in life.
And, well, Jack wasn't going to argue too strenuously against that!

As they lounged on the couch, watching tapes of old footy matches,
movies, other sports, they talked a tremendous amount of bullshit. Connor
loved it. He couldn't believe he was getting to hang out as Jack's friend
-- the big huge footy star! And huge was the word. Jack was six-foot-four
and built like a brick shithouse, with broad shoulders, big arms,
powerful legs -- you had to be like that to be an effective center half
forward. Connor would love to be a center half forward but he didn't know
if he could get big enough. Jack let him feel his biceps -- man, they
were HUGE!

Connor loved nothing better than coming up with some smart crack that
genuinely made Jack laugh. The subject of girls was fertile ground.
Connor had no experience with girls at all, and no real desire to attempt
it yet, but he had certainly started to notice them. Whenever a pretty
girl appeared on the telly, he'd grab his crotch and cry, "Oh baby, you
know you want it!"-- which cracked Jack up every time. It was a big
change from the first days, when Connor would blush and avoid the topic.
He even began asking Jack questions about his sex life -- questions Jack
was only too happy to answer -- and at length!

It amazed Jack to think back on his own youth. At Connor's age he was
already sexually active, with both boys and girls. Mainly boys, because
girls were harder to get. He'd realized pretty quick that Connor was,
despite his joking around and crotch-grabbing, quite sheltered and
innocent. Jack certainly respected that, but very happily started
dispensing the info when the boy asked. Jack had always been "oversexed"
as they called it, but felt it was the most natural thing in the world.

One lazy Sunday afternoon, Connor suddenly said, "So, Jack, did you get
circumcised?"

"Oh yeah, I got the chop. But then, when I was born, every boy did. Did
you? Do they still lop 'em all off?"

"I'm not. But everyone else is." After a short pause he added in a rush,
"So I probably should, shoulnd't I? Get one -- would a doctor do it to
someone my age?"

"You want to get your foreskin lopped off? Why? Rex at the club -- he's
uncut, and he reckons it's much better -- better for jerking off, for
sex, everything."

Connor shifted uncomfortably on his end of the couch. He regretted saying
anything -- wasn't sure why he'd blurted it out like that.  Since
entering puberty not long ago, the boy's foreskin had been giving him
some trouble. It was quite tight, and this had been exacerbated as his
penis had begun to grow. With an erection, it was too tight to retract
much at all, and the one time he forced it, it had got stuck behind the
head of his penis and been very painful. He'd worried he'd done some
serious damage, although when his erection finally went down it was okay.
But the boy, with no one to talk to about these things, had begun to
worry his recent "playing with it" was causing the problem. What he
wanted to do was solve the problem by getting a circumcision. For some
reason he thought a circumcision would solve everything: the pain, the
playing with it, his shyness in the change rooms, the lot. But he hadn't
gotten up the courage to go to the doctor about it yet. He kept trying to
ignore the whole problem. Except, now he'd blurted it out.

"So, what - the other boys give you a hard time about it?" Jack asked,
not wanting to embarrass the boy but sensing something was up with him.

"No, no, nothing like that."

"Well they should," Jack continued. "Bloody weird looking things, those
uncut cocks. Rex cops it all the time."

"Ha, yeah, well, I don't flash it around to everyone!"

"So is that why you want to get the chop? Cos it looks weird compared to
the other boys?"

Connor was really squirming now. "Oh, I dunno, nah, not that...just,
sometimes it gets sore."

"What, like infected?"

"No! Geez, Jack. I dunno, just, if I shouldn't, you know..."

Jack stared at the boy. He had no freakin' idea what the kid was on
about. He said, "I think you should just show me."

"Show you what?"

"Your Aunty's tea-cosy -- what do you think I mean? -- your cock, buddy.
Show me your cock. I know about these things. When I was your age I had a
friend with an uncut cock, so I know how they work." Jack grinned.
"Pretty damn well, actually."

Connor was blushing furiously now and shaking his head, saying No, no,
its alright. Jack was a bit surprised the boy was so shy about it all,
given the way he carried on the rest of the time. But he told Connor, no
worries, but insisted the boy see a doctor if there really was a problem.
Connor said, yeah, sure, and they went back to watching the telly.

But it was only a couple of minutes later that Connor said, "It's bad
when I have a boner."

"What is, the TV reception?"

"No! Jack! I, um, I've got a boner now."

"Half ya luck. I used to get boners, I seem to remember."

"I have! Look!" The boy raised his hips up, stretching the fabric of his
black tracksuit pants to show the clear jutting shape of his erection.

"Yep, can't argue with that. Nice hard-on, buddy. So what about this
problem you were talking about? Is it hurting now?"

Connor got serious, and used his fingers to squeeze the head of his cock
through is pants. "It gets too tight, if I...you know..."

"Connor," Jack said, "For fuck's sake, just drop your pants and show
me."

He made a small nod: okay. He undid the drawstring of his tracksuit
pants, then lifted his butt enough to push them and his undies down to
his knees. And he hoicked his T-shirt right up, fully displaying himself
to Jack.

Jack was a little surprised at the effect the sight of the naked boy had
on him. He was well used to being surrounded by naked men, and found it
not the slightest bit arousing. But Connor's slim, smooth form was
different, and the boy's flushed cheeks and obvious arousal was...hard to
ignore. He had just the first hint of pubic hair starting to grow,
otherwise was all over silky smooth. And his fully stiff cock, slender
and boyish, not yet a man's blunt tool but certainly more than a child's
little pee-pee. The foreskin completely covered the head, and did look a
tight fit. Jack said, "Seriously, Connor -- that's a damn fine cock, you
know." And Jack coughed, thinking perhaps he was getting a bit carried
away.

Jack's ankle was resting on a cushion on the coffee table so, reaching
over to tug at the boy's T-shirt sleeve, he said, "Scoot over a bit
closer."

Connor did, and immediately started to explain while carefully fingering
the head of his penis. "See if I have to, like..."

Jack gently but firmly moved the boy's hand away and said, "Okay, now
just let me take a look, okay."

"Yeah, but don't -- if you -- it won't --"

"Connor, buddy, don't worry, I'll be gentle as a kitten." Jack had the
big hands of a six-foot-four center-half-forward, which had the effect of
making Connor's penis look even more of a slender sprig, but Jack was
true to his word, very gently feeling the boy's foreskin, the tightness
of it. It would slide only a small way, showing just a hint of the pink
tip, before it became too tight to comfortably slide further. Jack
frowned, intrigued, and used both hands, now drawing the foreskin right
forward, making it bunch in a loose bud, pulling the skin of the boy's
shaft forwards, right from the base of his penis where the first hints of
pubic hair were starting to grow.

Jack shifted his ankle down off the coffee table, enabling him to turn
more fully toward Conner. He was also shifting to accommodate the rather
surprising fact of his own arousal. Best to ignore that, he thought -- it
was probably due to his not having got laid for a couple of weeks.
Something which hadn't happened since he was about fifteen! But, fuck, he
did like this boy.

Concentrating on Connor's foreskin, he tried rubbing and squeezing and
stretching the end of it, which was where the tightest constriction
seemed to come from. It seemed to Jack it should be pretty easy to
stretch the damn thing enough to work properly. "That's not hurting, is
it?" He glanced at the boy and saw he was looking mighty consternated.

"Uh, it...oh fuck--" Connor muttered, trying to turn himself away.

Jack was about to let him go -- shocked at having hurt the boy -- when he
suddenly realized the kid wasn't in that sort of pain -- he was about to
blow his wad! Instinctively, Jack moved a thumb and finger to the boy's
shaft to gently masturbate him, rub his sweet spot, give him a proper
orgasm now it was on him. And, wow, did he ever! The boy, straining his
hips upward, screwing his face up, making a few little cries, as Jack
felt the lad's slender cock deliver an impressively rapid set of pulses.
He only ejaculated a couple of drops of clear fluid, though -- not
shooting sperm yet -- but everything else was sure firing on all
cylinders!

As he came down from it, Jack could see the worry and guilt and that sort
of crap start to gather in the boy's frowning visage. No way he was
having that. Laughing, he gave the boy a friendly back-hander on his bare
tummy. "Holy crap, Connor -- there I was thinking you were a little kid,
and you're a goddamn stud!"

"But...it shouldn't. Is that normal?"

"'Course it's normal!" Jack was shocked at the question, but probably
shouldn't have been. Even in 1983 it was still possible for kids to grow
up deeply ignorant about sex and their bodies. "Christ, boy, you should
be doing that at least three or four times a day -- I was at your age."

"Seriously?"

"For once I'm being dead serious. How often do you jerk off?"

"You mean like that? Was that 'jerking off'?"

"Oh yeah, I reckon that one counts. Looked like it was a good one -- was
it?"

Connor couldn't keep a nervous grin off his face. "Well...I guess..."

"I'll check with Doc at the club, but I don't reckon that foreskin will
be a problem. You just need to stretch it a bit. You know what that
means."

Connor waited.

"You'll need to jerk off a lot more. At least three times a day."

"Ha! Is that for real? I mean, I thought playing with it made it worse,
so I kept trying not to."

"Which is why you nearly blew a light bulb just now."

Connor was happily leaning back on the couch beside Jack, his T-shirt
still rucked up round his armpits, pants and undies having now fallen
right down round his ankles. His penis was still fully erect and he held
it down near the base, pointing it about. He used finger and thumb to
squeeze the little bit of dewy liquid he'd ejaculated, still pooling in
his foreskin. "So that's my spoof?" he asked, holding it up to show to
Jack.

"That's a sign of things to come. Pretty soon there'll be more of it, and
it'll be white, and then you'll be able to make babies."

"That's how you do it?" Connor asked, looking across at Jack then crying
out, "Shit, look at yours!"

"Yeah, well..." Jack said, laughing, not bothering to try and hide the
obvious large erection tenting his own navy blue tracksuit pants. "I'm
just trying to keep up with you."

Reflexively, Connor reached across, but only feigned grabbing Jack's
bulge. "You should show yours!"

"Hey, I'm a grown man -- that sort of thing's for boys your age." Jack
didn't say that with any real seriousness. The idea of stripping off and
messing around with the boy strongly appealed, but a couple of things
made him hesitate. Exactly how serious a line would he be crossing? Well,
actually, that sort of thinking had never really held much sway with
Jack. But, a bit more seriously: would he possibly freak the boy out?
Although he did seem to be enjoying himself now, lying there with his
boner on display. And Jack had to admit it, he was damn horny now, and it
looked like the boy's cock was never going to go down!

Jack said, "So do you ever mess around with other boys your age?"

"How do you mean? Playing footy and stuff?"

"No, dufus!" Jack roared, taking a mock swipe at him. "I mean sex stuff.
You know, jerking and sucking each other. I did that all the time with
boys when I was your age."

Connor shook his head firmly. "No way, never."

"Want me to show you how it's done?" Jack asked, fairly seriously.

"Sure!" Connor replied, laughing a little nervously, not exactly knowing
what Jack was meaning to do. "What will you do?"

"Get you out of this, first," Jack said, pulling the boy's T-shirt up
over his head, get a really nice waft of the young fella's roused scent.

As Connor concentrated on getting his sneakers off and then his tracksuit
pants and undies, Jack, balancing on one leg, got out of his clothes.
Connor's reaction was pretty funny -- eyes opening wide as he got his
first look at Jack's massive hard cock.

"Jesus -- your dick's huge!"

"Thanks, buddy."

Connor was a little overwhelmed. At six-foot-four, broad-shouldered,
muscular build, and a cock that was well over the average size, Jack,
naked beside the slender thirteen-year-old, looked a different species.
Because of his ankle, Jack quickly sat back down, and Connor jumped
beside him on the couch, a little dumbstruck as he kept staring at Jack's
cock and muttering under his breath that it was HUGE. Finally the boy
reached for it, but stopped and looked at Jack: "Is it...can I grab it?"

"Shit yeah -- I had a fair crack at yours, didn't I?"

So first with one hand, then with two, almost reverently, he began
feeling Jack's cock. The huge spongy head was something foreign to the
uncircumcised boy, who hadn't really even seen his own cock head. He felt
the entire rock-hard length of it, down to the thick bush of black pubic
hair, and the big balls. While the boy seemed almost lost in a trance,
Jack was again surprised at how fucking turned-on he was. As the boy kept
feeling the length of his cock, he put a hand on the lad's back, feeling
the incredibly silken smoothness of his skin, down to his slender hips
and tight little butt.

Then Connor was up on his knees, leaning his hips across, bringing his
boy-boner into contact with Jack's cock, trying to line it up and compare
the size. "It's, like, way more than twice as big as mine!" he declared,
almost with pride. Continuing to stare, he said, "How do you play with
it, without any skin?"

"I thought you'd never ask, buddy."

"Huh?"

Jack got the lad to go into his bedroom and fetch a tube of lubricant
from his bedside drawer, the kid streaking there and back, little boner
twanging happily as he ran.

When he go back to the couch he stood at Jack's knee, looking down at
himself, thrusting his hips forward: "Mine's still stiff as!" Really
enjoying himself now.

"Okay, bud," Jack said. "I'm a bit limited in movement. I want you to
straddle me."

"Huh? How do you mean?"

"Just sit facing me here. Put your knees either side of my legs -- see if
you can rub your cock up against mine."

Connor took to it like a new training drill. Got in position, put his
hands on Jack's massive shoulders, felt down over his bulging pecs and
biceps. "Man," said Connor, "your muscles are huge."

"Keep playing footy, you'll end up like this. Ten years in the gym,
that's all it takes."

"I don't go in the gym. I don't think I'm allowed, am I?"

"We can sort that out. I've got a gym here, remember."

Jack took the boy by his shoulders, slender, fragile; they brought out in
the man a strange mix of tenderness, protectiveness and savage lust.
"Okay, bud, I really need to get off."

"Okay." Connor started to remove himself from the man's lap, causing Jack
to grab him almost roughly to stop him going. "Oi! Where you going?"

"To get off."

"No, no, no." After he managed to stop laughing, Jack said, "Remember the
orgasm you had, when you ejaculated a bit of clear stuff?"

The boy nodded.

"Well I need to do that."

The boy was still confused. "So...do you want me to get off?"

"No I do not. Absolutely not." Jack squeezed a generous stream of lube
onto his cock, onto the boy's cock, smeared it around the boys tight
little ball sack, thighs, tummy.

"What's all that for?" Connor asked, feeling with his fingers how
slippery it was on his skin.

Jack slid further down, lying almost prostrate on the couch, and got the
boy on top of him. "Now, okay, that's good, good, Jesus yes, now you
gotta rub your cock, hard as you can, up and down on my cock. Okay?"

Connor attempted to follow his orders as well as possible. With his knees
planted wide on either side of Jack's hips, he held onto his brawny
shoulders as he started grinding his cock hard against Jack's massive
one. At first it felt to the boy very weird and very rude and he couldn't
help laughing at it, but as Jack started to thrust upwards in synch, and
put his arms round the boy, Connor got swept up in it, intoxicated by the
Jack's heat and smell, as though melting into the big man's sexual
arousal. The slippery lubed contact of his tender cock across Jack's big
tool and rock hard stomach was acutely exciting, the pain of his foreskin
being roughly rubbed up and down, almost fully exposing his little cock
head at times -- it was quickly taking the boy toward another fierce
climax.

With the boy on him like that, and really going for it now, Jack knew he
wasn't going to last long. Christ! He ran his hands down the length of
the boy's slender back to his impossibly sweet little butt, wide-spread
as he worked his hips, grinding away as ordered. Jack cupped and squeezed
the kid's little butt cheeks, getting a nice yipping response from him.
And the silky smoothness of the slender-hipped little fella -- it was a
terrible goad. And Jack ran his fingers in between the boy's spread butt
cheeks, touching across his tight little rosebud -- and that got more
than a yip, that got a startled buck and yell. Jack held the boy in
place, nuzzled his neck and whispered to his sweetheart that he was so
hot and so beautiful, but just keep going, don't stop now. And Connor
did, as he whispered urgently to Jack, "I think I'm gunna do one again,
the spoof."

"That's good," Jack reassured him, and again, with a lube-slippery
fingers, found the little fella's tight little bud, nudged and prodded,
pushing one finger just a tiny bit in, and the boy made some faster,
slamming grinds against Jack, turning his head aside and making a whining
cry. It was too much for him and he surged into his second orgasm as Jack
grabbed the boy's butt with both hands and pulled him hard into him,
fucking the boy's slippery cock and tender belly and reaching a powerful
climax, blowing a huge load between their hot bodies, coating the boy
from pubis to chest.

Coming down, breathing deep, Connor stayed on him, resting his head on
Jack's brawny shoulder, finally saying, "Um, I think I might have peed. I
feel all wet."

Jack took the boy's head gently in his big mitts, lifted him
face-to-face, and gave him a big kiss smack on the lips. Then he said,
"Actually, I think I spoofed all over you, buddy -- that's the wetness."

Connor, staring into Jack's eyes from right up close, took his turn to
give him a smacking big kiss on the lips.

Jack said, "If we stay like this, we might end up stuck together like
with super glue."

"Good!" Connor said. "Then Mum'd have to let me stay all the time." But
he was restless and curious, and sat up so he could see -- and was amazed
at the amount of white stuff smeared all over Jack and himself. "Wow,
there's so much of it." He ran his finger over his tummy, scooping some
up, having a look at it. "Do it again, Jack -- I want to see it come
out!"

"Well, I might need a breather, first. I'm not thirteen anymore."

In actual fact, Jack didn't require much of a breather at all. Over the
ensuing weeks he continued to be surprised just how deep his feelings
were for the boy. As things returned to normal, his ankle recovering,
training at the club resuming, Jack didn't, as he'd initially planned,
get onto the nightclub circuit in search of constant conquests. He
certainly kept having sex with girls -- he'd never give that up! -- but,
for the time being, Connor remained his primary relationship. They saw
each other pretty much every day, at the club and at Jack's place. Jack
joked that he'd created a monster, that Connor had turned into a sex
maniac, a charge the boy happily lived up to. And it was only six weeks
into their relationship that Jack presented Connor with his first
official present. It was a fine silver neck chain with a small amulet -
an amulet that nobody was ever able to identify, which was just as well,
it being a phallic totem to celebrate the boy's first successful
masturbation with a freely retracting foreskin.

THE END

Comments welcome:   leopold.boyce@protonmail.com