SPORTS AT SCHOOL
                             ----------------
     
           A Shorts story for Pink Triangle from the Track Coach
     
     
     I suppose what first turned me on to Sports Kit Sex was something
     that happened when I was about 14 or 15.
     
     I spent  six days  of the week at school, but with sport on three
     afternoons and  either Scouts  or Cadets  on another, life really
     wasn't so bad as it may have sounded. During classes, I tended to
     sit next to a boy called Martin. We had those old-fashioned metal
     desks in  linked pairs,  with lift-up  lids covering  whatever we
     dared to store inside and a single, wide fold-down seat.
     
     Like me,  he was  something of a sportsman, although unlike me he
     was really  good at  it, representing  the school  in most of the
     Track-and-Field events,  and winning many. He was not a tall boy,
     5'8" at  the most,  against my own 5'10" or so. His hair was very
     blond and  covered his  collar, but  was always beautifully clean
     and well-brushed,  and so the school had not objected to it. Very
     much the  young athlete, his physique was all but perfect even at
     that age.
     
     His skin  was still  smooth and  hairless, and always tanned, yet
     his musculature was fully developed, particularly about the chest
     and torso.  His legs, too, were of splendid proportion. I suppose
     that was  something to  do with  all the cycling we used to do at
     weekends. All in all, then, Martin was exactly the type of boy to
     be seen about the school in his tiny shorts and track singlet!
     
     On this  particular afternoon  in early  June the  Latin  grammar
     seemed endless.  Our teacher droned on and on, and neither Martin
     nor I  were taking  in much  of what was being said. I was gazing
     surreptitiously out of the window, watching the older boys on the
     athletics track, when Martin gave me a sly nudge.
     
     I glanced  round to  see him  pointing to  a bulge  in  his  grey
     flannels, which  gave an  inviting kind  of a  twitch. I couldn't
     resist reaching  across and putting out a hand to feel it. Martin
     looked shocked  at first, but not angry, as I pressed a palm onto
     his hard young cock. I was getting hard too. I caught hold of his
     hand and  pulled it  towards me,  showing him  the effect  he was
     having on  me. He  touched me  briefly, then pulled away, fearful
     that Sir  would spot  us. Over the next few days, though, we made
     certain we sat together at every opportunity.
     
     Then came  the afternoon when we next had Games. Martin and I had
     been left to practice our long-jump on the far side of the track.
     Martin, as was usual, was wearing that all-white gear - a pair of
     little cotton  shorts with  a button  at  the  waist;  his  tight
     running singlet;  long white  socks and gym shoes. I on the other
     hand tended  to prefer  something a  bit more  colourful, and had
     opted for  by blue-and-grey running shorts and singlet, with long
     grey sports socks and track spikes.
     
     Martin had just finished his jump, and I was about to walk to the
     end of  the run-up  to try  a new  technique I'd been working on.
     Martin sat  on the  grass and  crossed his legs ... when suddenly
     his cock  moved upright inside his shorts! I couldn't fail to see
     it as  the material,  though spotlessly white, was quite thin and
     well-worn.
     
     He glanced  up at  me and  smiled shyly,  almost  as  though  his
     excitement embarrassed him. I sat down beside him and reached out
     to stroke him through his gear, as we'd begun to do to each other
     whenever we were by ourselves.
     
     He must  have been  really hot and horny, because he whispered to
     me urgently, "Not now ... later! Follow me after your next jump."
     
     That next  jump was  by far  my best of the afternoon - we'd only
     done this  once before, and had both thought it fantastic! By the
     time I reached the sand-pit, Martin had stood and gathered up his
     bag of  gear. I  lay back  in the warm, soft sand, my legs spread
     wide, and  found him  staring at me - not into my eyes this time,
     but straight  down at  my crutch.  It was  as though he could see
     everything my  shorts loosely covered, without needing me to slip
     them down for him.
     
     The other  boys were  on the far side of the field now, intent on
     their game of soccer, so we slipped into the deserted shower-room
     and locked  ourselves into  a well concealed cubicle. I turned on
     the water, hoping that anyone coming in would think all was well,
     and we  huddled close  in one corner, for the while well clear of
     the warm,  streaming water.  Martin knelt  for a  moment to tie a
     lace, and  I moved  closer to him, standing over him with my feet
     apart.
     
     He immediately  reached out  and held me right through my shorts,
     squeezing the  fast-growing phallus  he knew  I kept beneath them
     and brushing  lightly across my big balls. As he did so I lightly
     stroked his,  feeling it  growing beneath  my fingers.  It was so
     big, even  though it  still wasn't  fully hard,  and felt  really
     interesting, as Martin wasn't circumcised. I rolled his skin back
     and forth  through that  thin cotton,  as he  blew cool air up my
     legs and tickled my balls.
     
     It felt  really great,  and Martin was groaning with pleasure too
     as I  kept working on his skin like that! We were so excited that
     we were both close to shooting our hot loads even before we'd got
     our cocks  out. Our  shorts were  wet  and  sticky  with  pre-cum
     juices, but  somehow we  didn't seem  to mind!  I'd never been so
     excited before,  and the  pleasure was  almost painful:  I didn't
     know whether to laugh or cry with joy.
     
     It was  just as  well we  stifled our  groans of delight, as just
     then someone came in to use the toilet. We froze, and listened to
     the sound of him having a pee, and finally his receding footsteps
     and the  door closing.  We waited a moment or two longer, just to
     be sure,  before reaching  out to grab the front of one another's
     shorts once  more. And,  as we  did so, we both came! Spurt after
     spurt of  jism hit  the insides  of  our  shorts,  until  it  was
     trickling down our trembling legs. And we hadn't even had to jerk
     each other!
     
     I looked  into Martin's  eyes and  we kissed  passionately,  each
     knowing clearly now what we would do with the rest of our time at
     the school together...

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| Jeffrey P. Temple            utgard!pyrgard!jeffrey@csusac.csus.edu  |
|                                                                      |
| "There are not many things in human affairs worth any great anxiety" |