Date: Sat, 19 May 2001 23:23:10 +0100
From: dewi@gay.com
Subject: Rugby (Diolch yn fawr tad)

This work of fiction explicitly depicts the sport of rugby.  If you are
under age or rugby is illegal in the country where you live DO NOT READ
THIS STORY.

I was getting too old and slow for the modern game.  Sure I was match fit,
but each year the training was harder and I was finding it difficult to
keep up with the younger guys.  So this was my last game and while I wanted
to play forever I also knew that for my own good and the good of the team
it was time for me to retire.  `Quit while you are ahead' is good advise,
although it is less easy to accept it.  There were some new, young,
promising players recently joined and they deserved their chance to play in
the first team.

Just as the minutes ticked away to half time my chance for glory opened up.
The ball came down the line to me and the right wing was open.  Where the
speed or energy came from I do not know but I ran with it and before I knew
what was happening I was between the posts with five men on top of me,
pressing me, face down into the mud.  Through the pile of bodies I heard the
crowd erupt in cheers acknowledging my magnificent try.  All through half
time I revelled in the praise of my team-mates.  We were winning and I was
the hero of the hour.

Unfortunately I was a short-lived hero, two minutes into the second half they
equalised and the fame of the first half was lost, the battle still to be won.
Time after time we used our best plays but failed to get through the tough
front row.  These lads were big guys and each tackle was like colliding with a
brick wall.  As the end of the match neared I realised, if I needed any
confirmation, why it was time for me to retire.  My breathing was hard and
laboured, my whole body ached and my limbs moved when required but was
I ever sore.

Then it happened, out the corner of my eye I saw him, the youngest and
newest lad on the team.  He was lightweight for a rugby player but it gave
him speed and agility.  Holding the ball tight, he swerved, avoiding a brick
shit house of a prop forward.  Slipping through the grasping hands of two,
then three more man mountains he touched the ball down just to the left of
the posts.

Shouts of triumphant erupted from the whole team as well as the crowd as
the final whistle confirmed our victory.  Gathering around the boy we
picked him up and carried him from the field, shoulder high.  It was the
perfect end to a good game, a victorious season and a fitting end to my
career.

In the locker room I stood at my locker next to our young `man of the
match'.  Every guy on the team stopped and congratulated both of us on our
performance and there was much backslapping and replays of the action.  The
room became steamy as the showers streamed and aromatic with the smell of
many muddy, sweaty men.  Dirty kit was stripped off all around us and naked
men entered the shower, emerging clean and fragrant a few minutes later
wrapped in towels.  Finally, still euphoric, the boy and I realised that we
were alone.  We had relived the game time and again, so engrossed we did
not realising time passing.

"Come on, we better get a move on we are missing valuable drinking time" I
said.

"Too right" he replied, as he removed his red top.  My eye was drawn to the
fiery dragon motif as his sweat soaked shirt fell to the floor.

My mud encrusted boots and thick socks were off in a flash, my top and
white shorts dropped on top of them.  I stood in my damp jock strap,
rubbing the sweat into the course black hair of my chest.  My nipples stood
hard and dark.  I looked across at the lad; he too was stripped to his
jock.  I was please to see that he did not favour compression shorts that
many of the new players wear.  The pouch bulged pleasingly, his large penis
and balls clearly outlined by the clinging material.  His smooth arse
cheeks were pink and a few dark black blue bruises were already starting to
show.  I inhaled deeply and despite the hot steamy room being filled with
the smell of men I knew that it was him that I could smell and I liked it.
I like it so much that my cock stirred and began to swell.

His hands grasped the waistband and pulled the strap down and in doing so
bending forward slightly thrusting his arse towards me.  In a flash I was
on my knees, my long tongue licking and plunging into that tight boy hole.
With the element of surprise I struck gold first go.  My tongue penetrated
the virgin ring and he moaned and pushed back wanting more.  Adding more
spit and pressure I was able to open him up and he relaxed enjoying the
rimming.  The rich taste of his sweat and musk made me feel extra horny and
my trapped cock pulsed, releasing a spurt of pre-cum.

He turned and moved to lie over the bench, giving me better access to his
open arse.  Two of my thick fingers slid easily into his ring and as I
plunged them in and out I released my throbbing cock from the pre-cum
soaked pouch of my jock.  I added a third finger to the cherry hole and he
moaned and writhed on the bench.  With my free hand I pulled hard back on
my foreskin and squeezed my steel hard shaft, the moist dark purple glans
of my 8-inch cock became firm and glossy.  Another pearl of natural lube
formed at my piss lips and dribbled along the shaft.  I rubbed it into my
glans making them slippery.

Removed my fingers I quickly replaced them with my cock.  Without pause I
thrust full and deep into the waiting cavern.  He was tight and hot but I
showed no mercy, holding his hips and pressing him against the bench, I
pushed into him until my pubic hair ground against his soft arse cheeks.
Far from the scream of pain that I had expected he gave out a low,
guttural, animal moan, pure pleasure and lust.  I started to withdraw
slowly; his anal muscle held my glans firm and prevented me slipping out.
I thrust in again, at a slight angle, hitting his prostate producing a
shiver of pleasure and further moans of lust.

My thrusting increased and my need to cum was irresistible.  I pulled him
up right, holding him deeply impaled on my cock.  I reached my hands around
to his chest and locating his nipples I pinched hard and held them tight.
He let out a cry and his already tight arse clamped down on my cock and the
muscles seemed to dance and wank my dick as I held it inside him.  It was
too much for me.  My cock swelled and my load of jizz burned as I felt it
rising through my throbbing rigid prick.  Boiling out, it pumped into his
fuck tube, jet after jet of my cum filled the lad.

The continued massage of my cock by his muscles told me that the boy was
cumming too.  Looking over his shoulder I could see a respectable load of
boy cum shooting out over the bench from a cock that would put a horse to
shame.  The piss lips parted and a jet of cum shot out, over the bench to
hit the distant locker.  My own dick was softening and slipping from the
sloppy wet hole as the final drips of his juice dropped onto the bench.  It
was a mammoth load and a cock to die for.

Sweat dripping from us both, he falls back into my arms and we collapse on
to the floor.  I hold him in warmth and security, enjoying our
post-orgasmic glow.

He turned his head to look at me and says, "Thanks dad that was great"

I reply "I am so proud of you son"

THE END

I apologise to any rugby fans for the liberties I have taken with the rules
of the game but not for the liberties I have taken with the players in the
locker room.

If you have any comments please e-mail me at dewi@gay.com.  I am pleased to
receive and reply to all mail.