First Down!

Today’s Sunday, and even though I’ve been riding high on my team’s Super Bowl victory–go Pats!–I miss my weekly Sunday ritual of watching the football games. So I wrote a little short to help ease the loss. It’s erotic. And it has plenty of cringe-worthy football puns. I hope you enjoy it, even if you’re not a football fan, and just want a little man-on-man smut. So, without further ado:

First Down

“I like you, but you’re crazy.”

J.C. laughed heartily as he stripped off the shoulder pads from his sweat sticky undershirt. “Oh, you do, huh?”

Chris folded his arms across his thick chest, regarding him with that handsome-as-hell grin of his. “What kind of insane person goes up for the fucking ball in three man coverage?”

J.C. beamed. “No one else was open. It was either catch the ball somehow or let our QB take the sack. Jeffries was all over his ass, too. No way in hell he was surviving another hit from that.”

“Jesus, man.” Chris’ hazels glanced down at the floor, and he shook his head like he was still in disbelief. “When you took that hit, and you fell down like that, all crumpled up, not moving, my heart was racing so fast. I thought you were dead. I thought Teddy had finally killed you.”

“Teddy’s not the one who popped me.”

“Yeah, but he threw you the ball with three fucking defensive backs on your ass.”

“I’m okay. The medics took me back here. Checked me out. I didn’t have a concussion. No broken bones. Just the wind knocked out of me. They brought me back in the game.”

Chris shook his head again, but his face didn’t look so grave now. There was the trace of a smile, even. “Fucking Iron Man, I tell ya.”

“I’m just another player like everyone else. There’s really nothing special about me. I just did what I needed to do so our team would win. And we did.” J.C. couldn’t help pulling the other man forward into a hard embrace. They both reeked of sweat and that fake grass turf. But the only thing clogging his nose was the sweet, tangy scent of victory. “We fucking did it.”

Chris automatically wrapped his muscled arms around him, too. “I know, man. And the media goons can’t wait to get their hands on you.”

“How long do we have before I gotta go to the box, you think?”

“Ten minutes. Probably less.”

“Oh, that’s plenty of time.”

“For what?”

J.C. glanced around the locker room. They were two of the last ones off the field, so most everyone else was already hitting the showers and coming out for press time. He met Chris’ questioning gaze with a lecherous grin and whispered, “For me to go deep up your slot.”

Chris groaned like he was in agony and shoved him away. “You and your lame ass football innuendos again.”

“You love my football innuendos.”

“Not as much as you think I do.”

“What are you two doing?”

They both turned to see the handsome “Tall Teddy” as they called him—since he was about 6’7—approaching them, all GQ’d up and ready to take on the media. “Go hit the showers. Our work day isn’t over yet.” He put on a pair of stylish shades and left them behind.

“You heard the captain,” J.C. said. “Work day ain’t over with.” He and Chris worked quickly to peel off their gear and get naked. J.C. didn’t miss the erection his teammate tried to hide behind a towel. J.C. didn’t bother with one, but he did grab the most important thing from his secret stash.

The showers were hot and steamy to the point of being stifling, and the last two players were drying off and prepared to leave.

“Great game, baby,” one cheered before smacking J.C.’s bare ass.

The other nodded in acknowledgement, and then the two of them were gone, leaving him and Chris alone with about seven minutes to shower and do whatever they wanted.

Chris turned on the closest showerhead and pulled off the towel before standing beneath the spray that didn’t need a minute warm-up due to already being used.

J.C.’s cock stirred at the sight of the water pouring down all that tawny skin and hard muscles. Chris tilted his chin into the stream, the water plastering his usually spiky black hair to his forehead, and he raked a hand over his whiskered chin and jawline. J.C. sucked in a deep breath. “I know what I’m thinking.”

Chris glared at him over his shoulder. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t think.”

J.C. laughed, but was undeterred as he sidled up to his friend, teammate, and just recently…lover. He palmed Chris’ firm ass cheeks, and this time when Chris groaned, it wasn’t agony. J.C. pressed in against him, using his body to pin him against the tiled wall. “You think you’re real cute, playing hard to get, don’tcha? Even though you’re so hard you could drill through this wall.”

Chris snorted, then laughed, but that was cut short as J.C. gripped his own pipe and teased Chris’ hole with it. Chris involuntarily spread his legs for him. “Five minutes, J.C. That’s all we have.”

“I’ll get you off in four.” He reached around Chris’ lean hips and wrapped a hand around his dick, jerking him off as he unsheathed the condom he’d snatched. His cock throbbed at Chris’ muted sounds of pleasure. “I didn’t bring any lube. The condom’s lubed, but I just wanted you to know I don’t have any.”

Chris’ voice was breathless as he said, “You know I don’t care. You know I like it rough.”

“That’s my boy.” J.C. released him long enough to put the latex on. He gripped Chris’ hips, positioning him at the fat crown of his erection before sliding inside with a moan. Chris’ ass was like two globes of iron squeezing his cock so hard, it was almost painful.

“Oh, shit,” Chris panted. “Give it to me, J.C.”

“You want it?” J.C. gripped a fistful of Chris’ wet strands, yanking his head back into an awkward angle. “How bad do you want it?”

Chris shuddered against him, his breaths uneven, eyes closed like he was in nirvana. “Oh, god, J.C. Fuck me.”

J.C. would’ve loved to bite him. To torture him a little and make him beg. He wanted Chris on his knees, worshiping his cock with his tongue. But they didn’t have time, and he needed to cum. He drove long and deep into Chris’ tight hole and fucked his best friend hard. So hard that Chris was plastered to the wall like a Band-Aid.

“Gonna come,” Chris said, his voice strained as he struggled to keep his volume in check. “J.C., fucking Christ.” Chris tensed all over a moment before he came hard.

J.C. hissed at the vice-like clench on his dick and the sudden spots in his vision. “Oh, god.” He wasn’t gonna last like this. J.C. dug his fingers hard into Chris’ skin and forced his way in and out of his man’s convulsing hole. He fucked him until he couldn’t bear the pressure anymore, and his vision temporarily went black as he shot his seed into the condom.

“You’re heavy, dude,” Chris mumbled moments later.

J.C. hadn’t realized he’d slumped his leaden body onto him. “My bad.” He righted himself, slowly slipping out of Chris’ sweet ass.

“Fuck,” Chris groaned as he exited him.

J.C. raked a hand through his hair and slapped his cheeks. He was always tired after he came, but the steam and hot water had him feeling lethargic. “I think we just did. Well, at that.”

Chris glared at him, his hazels practically gleaming in the harsh light. “You think you’re so funny.”

“We better get outta here before Teddy comes in here and drags us out. Again.”

“And risk ruining his favorite Tom Ford velvet blazer? Yeah, right. We’re probably good for another couple minutes.”

A slow grin worked its way up J.C.’s face as he stared at his best friend. “Mr. Superstar Wide out.”

“What?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanna aim for overtime.”

Chris scowled. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh. Sure you don’t.” J.C. grabbed the bar of soap and lathered up. “Parade’s tomorrow, but I’d be down for some pre-celebration warm-ups tonight. Just so you know.”

Chris bit his lip in that irresistible way that he did which never failed to make J.C. want him more than he already did. Forget overtime. This little session was only the first half. The second half was gonna be even more phenomenal. “No excuses?” J.C. asked.

“Nope. Can’t think of any.”

“Good. Then it’s my house tonight. Oh and, last one to finish press today gets tucked and fucked.”

Chris scoffed as he turned off the shower and retrieved his towel. “You do know you’re gonna lose that one, right, Mr. MVP?”

“Oh yeah. I didn’t think about that one.” But J.C.’s smirk proved otherwise.

Chris shook his head, but he smiled. “Why are you so goddamn crazy? I swear to God, I’m gonna have ulcers dealing with you.”

“Just remember that if you give up, I’ll carry you into the end zone.”

Chris groaned in annoyance. “Would you stop the innuendos? They’re not funny.”

“I will if you say you’ll drop by my place tonight.”

“I’ll drop by your place tonight,” Chris deadpanned. “Now are you through? We better go.”

Once J.C. finished washing up, he also grabbed a towel and headed for the door with Chris leading the way. Lopsided smile plastered to his face, J.C. leaned into Chris, inhaling the fresh, aloe scent wafting from his damp skin. “I know you really love my innuendos.”

The End

***

If you’re like me, missing football, and want more football-themed MM stories to tide you over during the off-season, might I suggest Fourth and Long by my good friend, Michele Rakes? It’s got interracial romance, drama, smut, and hot men in those tights we love so much.

Here’s the blurb:

Irus Beaumont, cornerback for the Highlanders, has an issue with his nemesis: wideout for the Pirates, Jackson McCoy. Partly jealous over Jackson’s skill and ability to scrub coverage, Irus also struggles against an unbearable attraction to the receiver. Firmly ensconced in the closet, Irus has a no football player rule, leaving his desires for Jackson unfulfilled. Anti-gay sentiment in the league keeps Irus closeted, even though he’d rather be out and proud.

When Jackson McCoy suffers a gay bashing at the hands of his team mates after winning the national championship, he finds himself traded to the Highlanders. Spring training brings out Jackson’s competitive nature, eliciting the aggression of his new team’s cornerback, Irus Beaumont.

In practice, Irus hurts Jackson badly. The injury places Jackson on the reserve roster. Jacks has plenty of time to contemplate his life, career, and his attraction to the sexy cornerback. Off to Orlando for the best rehab where guilt inspires Irus to call him every evening, Jackson can’t stop thinking about Irus, or what the season holds for his team.

You can buy Fourth and Long here.

Have a good week,

Theophilia

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