Date: Wed, 3 Sep 2003 08:05:49 EDT
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: The Rivals

				THE RIVALS
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     I wasn't at The Half-Time Grille on Saturday night when the bet was
made. And the reports of how it all happened were pretty confused and
contradictory. But as near as I can figure out what happened, it was like
this.
     You see, the football team of Wedgemore High has a long-standing
rivalry with the team of nearby Stanfield Prep. Any game between the two
teams was heavily attended regardless of our Conference rankings. But this
year, we had one of our best quarterbacks ever, James McHaggerty, who had
moved to Wedgemore the summer before and had dazzled the entire team when
he tried out. He was a tall, broad-shouldered, good-looking guy with legs
that let him cut the most amazing corners and jumps on the field. He had
edged out the last quarterback for the Wedgemore Panthers, a nice guy named
Kelly Billings, who had been moved to half-back position. His deep brown
hair he kept cut short and combed neatly when it wasn't mashed under a
helmet. His eyes were a startling steel gray color, his skin fair and clean
and unblemished, his cheeks were large and flat, and when he turned those
eyes and his smile on you, you felt a pool of warmth stir in your stomach
no matter who you were. He could charm the pants off anyone he wanted, and
I had my pants ready to go off if he'd ever aim that smile in my
direction. Ah, the agonies of adolescent horniness!
     Facing him was our old nemesis, Ted Chalmers. Chalmers had been
quarterback of the Stanfield Centurions for three years now. He was a
handsome blond-haired guy with blue eyes and an arrogant know-it-all
attitude that made you want to punch him the moment you saw him. His father
had money, a lot of it, and he drove a fancy car and could steal any guy's
girlfriend he chose to. He seemed to take a great deal of pleasure of doing
just that to the guys on the Panther's offensive line. Let any of the guys
be seen by Chalmers in public with a nice girl and he would usually make a
play for her. And pretty soon, the girl would be in his car and the Panther
would be back to looking for a new girl for when Chalmers was done with
such a girl, he would usually pass her on to one of his teammates.
     So now you are ready for what happened that Saturday night several
years ago. "Back to the Future" had opened at the Majestic Theatre that
night and after the show, members of both teams ended up at the nearby
Half-Time Grille like they always did. James had been talking with a pretty
new girl who had been sitting by herself at a booth when he had walked in
with his friends, only to find out when Ted Chalmers returned from the
bathroom that she was his niece in town for a visit. Heavy words were
exchanged. Again, I wasn't there but at some point the argument shifted
from Ted's niece to the upcoming Wedgemore/Stanfield game. Just what was
said in the heat of the argument, however, was very clear and recited with
relish at every corner of our school the following Monday.
     Ted: "You want to place a wager on the game, numbnut?"
     James: "Always throwing money at your problems, Ted? Why not bet
something you'd really hate to lose?"
     Ted: "Like what?"
     James: "If Wedgemore beats Stanfield on the eighteenth, you have to
get down and kiss my ass right in the middle of the playing field."
     Ted: "Not big enough. If we're going to bet something other than
money, let's make it something really humiliating!"
     James: "Like what?"
     Ted: "The losing quarterback, that's you or me, has to go to the
lockerroom of the other team after the game and, right in the middle of all
his teammates, suck the cock of the winning quarterback. And I mean suck
all the way off!"
     James: "Huh?"
     Ted: "Afraid of this hot dog, numbnut?" And Ted grabbed his
crotch. "Odds a little too high for you?" I think Ted was hoping James
would back down.
     James: "No! Not high enough! Both teams watching. And we both keep our
football uniform on, and anyone who wants pictures can take them. How's
that for odds, preppie? That'd look really good in your yearbook, wouldn't
it?"
     They say Ted stood there looking at James dead-silent for almost a
minute. Then he said, very quietly. "Okay. You're on. You'd better practice
on bananas for the next two weeks or you're going to be sucking a while."
     James' face was red with anger, and then he looked around at the crowd
watching him, and then he walked off and drove away, leaving his friends
stranded at the Grille.
     I was glad I'd heard the full story at least three times before that
Monday afternoon. I was ready when the principal walked in and announced
that practice would be extended an extra two hours each afternoon. He
looked like he wanted to say more, but we all knew he was thinking of the
pictures that would be around town for years if Wedgemore lost. And what
such pictures could do to his career! But he knew better than to try to
stop it outright. Betting on the game was a time-honored tradition. We'd
just never had a wager like this on the game before. All he could do was
his part to get us as ready as possible to win that game.
     Practice was rough, with the coaches grinding us well into the dusk
and pointing out every mistake. What mistakes the coaches didn't catch,
James did and he was quick to point them out. "Hedge!" he called to
me. Hedge was my nickname, that or Hedgehog. "You have to watch the
halfback when you're playing that position. He can cut around you and get
to me. Careful!"
     "All right." I waved. I was a lineman, and not such a good football
player, but I had the bulk and enough agility to make a decent offensive
lineman and I concentrated on doing that, or on breaking the lines when I
was playing defensive to let the other guys get practice. I went home
utterly exhausted. I could kiss my life good-bye until after the big game.
     Practice all weekend; my parents didn't mind. They'd always been big
on football in my town, and the rivalry was enough. Or perhaps they had
heard of the bet. I was approached three times during the course of the
week, twice to ask me to help throw the game for money, and once to find
out if I had taken the money. I hadn't. I don't think any of the guys
did. The image of that photograph, James in Panther colors sucking on Ted
Chalmers' cock would haunt us for years, and I still had two more years of
school to go.
     The game was rough, very rough. Fred Thompson broke his arm in one
pile-up and a Centurion named Willoughby was carried off the field with
what turned out to be a minor concussion. I got a nasty cut on my cheek
when one of the Centurion's helmets managed to snake inside my guard during
another pile-up.
     When one side was close to making a goal, the game got even
rougher. The crowds were eating it up and I actually feared they'd come
down onto the field if a goal was actually scored. But time and again, we
fought it back or got fought back at the very edge of the fields, prevented
or preventing goals. In the last few minutes of the final quarter, the game
was still 0-0.
     I watched the other team wearily as Chalmers made some substitutions
in the defensive line. Watched puzzled, as the ones he chose, while fresh,
were some of his weaker players. Lined up for the push. We were still 30
yards from the goal, and only two minutes left to play. Sudden-death loomed
like a specter over the field.
     Why did Chalmers send in his weaker players in such a situation? Yes,
his first team was exhausted, but so were we! I looked at the freshman
opposite me, who was trying to grimace meanly, and I knew right then that
he was scared, that I could take this new guy out. I gave McHaggerty the
signal and he waved.
     When the ball was snapped, I hit the Centurion defensive lineman hard
and he went over just as I had expected. And McHaggerty dove right through
the hole I had opened up and past the defensive line. A linebacker took him
down, but not quite soon enough, the ball went over the line as he fell
with his hands outstretched, and the goal was scored. We missed the point,
and after that, played out the clock, winning the game, 6-0.
     I went back to the lockerroom, my brain in overdrive. This hadn't made
any sense to me! It was like Chalmers had wanted to lose. But want to lose?
Even assuming you were gay and wanted a chance to suck off James
McHaggerty, an admittedly very cute guy, you wouldn't want to do it in
front of all your friends and with flash cameras recording the moment for
posterity, would you?
     I came out of the shower to see someone talking to James, some guy in
a business suit. James was saying no, pushing the guy away. The guy
actually pulled out a wad of money bigger than any I had seen before and
offered it, but James just said, "Get the hell out of here! A bet's a bet,
and I'm going to collect! You tell Chalmers to get over here."
     I walked over to James and said, "Someone from Stanfield?"
     "One of Chalmer's father's friends. Tried to get me to call off the
bet. Hell, Chalmers has got to come over her and go down!"
     "You're going to go through with it?" I asked him. "Get a blow-job
with everyone watching?"
     James looked at me and smiled. "And taking pictures, too. I've wanted
to wipe that smirk off Chalmer's face for a very long time. Can you think
of any better way to take that cocky grin off his face than with a cock in
his mouth?"
     "I know I couldn't even get it up in front of a crowd." I said. "But I
notice that you aren't drawing quite the crowd I had expected." We were
nearly alone in the alcove where we were.
     "Yeah." James seemed disappointed. "I wanted every one on my team to
be watching this. And every one of his team."
     "Watch you blow a wad into Chalmers' mouth?" I said.
     "You're going to be here, won't you, Hedge?"
     "Uh, sure!" I said. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
     "Great." James seemed pleased by this. "Would you take the pictures
for me? I got my own camera here and I can develop them myself. My uncle
has a dark room."
     "Sure." I said, then got braver. "If I can have a set of prints?"
     "I intend to give everyone a set of prints, Hedge." James said. "Yours
will be the first."
     "Great!" I said, and meant it.
     James handed me the camera. "You be sure you get a close-up of his
face on my cock." James walked off to get his own shower.
     I started to get dressed, but then Porky Coggins poked his head around
and said, "Hey, come on!"
     "What is it?"
     "Chalmers is here. The guy actually showed up!"
     I pulled back on my lockerroom towel, a wrap around with Velcro for
the waist, and went to the main area, just an open spot in the middle of
the room where the team would gather to hear the coach and so on. No wonder
there hadn't been more excitement, everyone had expected Chalmers to welsh
on the bet!
     I went out to see that Chalmers had arrived, in uniform, with four of
his buddies. The look on his face was awesome. Stolid, determined. But NOT
embarrassed. I expected him to be blushing outright, hiding his face. He
stood there like a man with a duty to perform. And I had expected the guys
to be making rude, crude comments. Our team was dead silent, a silence to
which I contributed. This was awesome!
     "Hey, James!" someone yelled. "Chalmers is here."
     "Be right out." James said. "Someone fetch me my spare uniform. I
brought it special for tonight. Want to look my best."
     Porky fetched James his costume and Chalmers stood to one side as
Porky went past, talking to his friends nearly calmly. Like I said, less
the humiliation of defeat as a guy who has to perform an unpleasant chore
and just wants to get it over with. Downright classy; I was impressed.
     The look slipped as he saw my camera. Then he looked at my
face. "You're the one who broke the line, aren't you?" he said to me.
     "Yep." I said. "Your new player lost his nerve."
     "I'll have to have a talk with Fredericks." Chalmers said and turned
away.
     James came out a bit later in his uniform. "Where to give everyone a
view?" he said and looked around. "Ah!" James stepped up on the bench at
the end of the area. "I'll stand here and face this way." he said. "That
way everyone can get a good look. Hedge, you ready?"
     "Ready, James." I said.
     "Come on, Chalmers." James teased. "It's your suppertime and you're
having sausage."
     That got hoots from my teammates, and I moved in to get shots. No one
else had a camera, and by general consensus, I got a wide area in front to
move around in.
     Chalmers walked over slowly, steadily. He had to straddle the bench to
get in position.
     "Now, reach up and open my flap nice and slow. Start snapping, Hedge."
James said. "That roll has 36 exposures, and I want the entire roll shot."
     I nodded and took a wide-angle shot of the situation, James in the
Panthers purple and white, Chalmers in Centurion's yellow and blue. James
had his helmet on and Chalmers had his with him, he set it down between
James' legs and then reached up, his hands still bandaged, to untie the
lacing of James' fly. You could tell by the way the fly moved that James
hadn't put on his protector. I had wondered about that. I moved in for a
close-up, getting Chalmer's face and hands doing his job. His face was
still stoic and composed. A soldier marching to certain death must wear
that look on his face, I remember thinking. Then, jeez, where's the coach?
Or any of the grown-ups? It was like they all understood that this was our
time, our ritual, and that they weren't welcome. I found out later that the
coach was in the middle of a shouting match down the way, Chalmers' father
had found out his son was going through with it and trying to get the Coach
to interfere, while betters were there blocking the way to make sure his
son paid his debt, as they put it.
     A few more Centurions wandered in, mostly in regular clothing and
carrying their bags, trying to act nonchalant. Our lockerrooms were next to
each other, so they didn't have any trouble getting in, just a few steps to
cover.
     Ted Chalmers finished unlacing the fly and opened the pants wide. You
don't have an actual fly there, just extra material, which laps over and
lets you lace up and tie the pants tight to your body. So what Ted did was
to pull down the pants some and expose James' cock to the assembled
players.
     James wasn't hard at first. With that many guys watching, I wouldn't
have been either. But I snapped the shutter again and that seemed to
inspire James, his cock rose up and Ted grasped it, stroked it for
him. James gasped and Ted then guided the cock to his mouth.
     I just got the picture as James' cock touched Ted's lips. Then Ted
dived onto James' cock and James sort of groaned. "Oh, yeah, who's the
numbnut now?" he chided Ted. "Come on, cocksucker, get to working it. Oh,
yeah!"
     Ted HAD to have been practicing for this. Think about it--you may have
to suck a cock for the first time in your life. If you do it badly, it'll
take you forever to finish the job. But if you know how, it'll be over
quicker. Wouldn't you practice? So he slathered James' cock with his
saliva, running his tongue back and forth over the cockhead and I backed up
to get another good shot of both of them full-body, and then back in for
more detail. I got pictures of Ted holding just the head in his mouth, the
entire cock shiny with his spit, and pictures where his face was buried
against James' crotch. James wasn't just getting a blow-job, he was getting
deep- throated. I don't think James expected such a servicing out of this,
because he was losing his cool rapidly under the long, deep strokes.
     "Oh, yeah, God, yeah, Ted, suck it! Suck it!" he groaned. "You
motherfucking bastard, suck my dick! Yeah! Oh, yeah!"
     I heard first a groan from one of my teammates, and then it seemed to
echo down through the group.
     I looked around to see Porky Coggins rubbing his crotch. Porky earned
his nickname for obvious reasons, he was a round-bellied dude but a
fearsome defensive lineman.
     "Enjoying the show, Porky?" James gasped out. "Oh, yeah!"
     "Great show, James!" Porky conceded. "Getting me really hot."
     "So take it out and stroke it." James said. "Join in the fun. I don't
mind. Enjoy this, the Centurions' quarterback is sucking me off, and he's
got to swallow it, too. How's that for showing which team's the best?"
     Ted speeded up and James lost the ability to talk, I think. He just
groaned and threw his head back and got all wobbly in the knees. I got the
pictures and looked around to see several guys rubbing their crotches
now. Some pretty hard and fast.
     Ted kept up this assault for a time, then must have gotten tired, for
he eased off, and James gasped a while, then groaned, "Oh, man, go ahead
and flog them, guys. Let's see if you can shoot it all the way up here on
this cocksucking Centurion!"
     That was enough to get Porky going, he opened his shorts and pulled
out his pud and started whomping it. When he did it, it sort of opened the
floodgate and soon over half the guys were doing it. I was getting a huge
erection, but with both hands on the camera, I couldn't do a thing about
it.
     James looked at me. "How many shots are left?" he asked me.
     "I don't know. Ten maybe." I had been clicking pretty hard and fast.
     "Give me the camera. I want to make sure we get one of his face when I
shoot my wad in his mouth." James said.
     I handed up the camera. Stepped back to clear the way as James aimed
the camera down onto Ted's face on his cock. Ted speeded up again.
     I staggered back, still wearing only the towel I had from the
shower. It was secure, being a wraparound model with Velcro at the top end,
so I opened up the flap and took out my cock.
     I was next to Kelly Billings, our former quarterback and I was
suprised when Kelly reached over and took my cock and flogged it for me! I
only hesitated a second, then I reached over and grabbed Kelly's thick
uncut meat and returned the favor. I hadn't done that since I was a kid!
But everyone was busy with their hands now, including the Centurion guests,
the entire group was whomping their sausage while watching the Centurion's
quarterbacks, Mr. Hotsnot Chalmers, paying off the bet by sucking Wedgemore
quarterback James McHaggerty's cock. And doing such an expert job on it,
too.
     James got a couple more shots, then he groaned. "Oh, man, I got to lay
down for the rest of this. I'm about to shoot my load and my legs are
aching!" he moaned.
     He got down from the bench, laid back on it with his legs on the
floor, and Ted scooted over to resume sucking him like that. James looked
around at his teammates watching him get blown while they whomped their
cocks, and he suddenly smiled a broad smile and lifted up the camera. Five
flashes, and the entire team was also on that roll of film. I definitely
wanted a complete set of prints.
     James clicked it a few more times, but the roll was obviously done
for. "Aw, shit, out of film. Now I can just lay back and enjoy this! Oh,
yeah, Chalmers, suck that cock for me, just like I want that niece of yours
to suck it one day soon. Your whole family's so damned pretty,
Chalmers. Yeah, suck it!" James' face was flushed bright red.
     Chalmers seemed to realize that James was close for he suddenly began
to suck hard and fast and James gave full vent to his moans and
groans. "Oh, oh, oh, ah, ah, ah, uh, uh, uh, uh!"
     Kelly was really pounding my pud and I did the same for him and Kelly
groaned and shot his load. From our angle, I had his whanger pointed nearly
straight up, and pulled a little towards me, I guess, because Kelly
splattered me but good with his jism. I gasped when I felt the white-hot
flood hit me and I felt my own orgasm creeping up my stomach and I turned
and deliberately aimed myself at him when my climax hit. I sprayed Kelly
just as much as he had me.
     "Yeah, Hedge!" Porky groaned. "That'll really teach him. Aw, jeez!"
Porky groaned and then I got hit with his jism as well! I was going to need
another shower!
     In all this, I almost missed the scene I'd been waiting for, but
James' groans began to climb and he groaned out a long, "O-o-o-o-o-h,
u-u-u-u-u-uhhhh!" and I managed to wink my eyes clear long enough to see
him flush all the way to purple and Ted choked as James pumped his wad into
Ted's mouth and down his throat.
     Gasping, sweating, utterly exhausted after the hard game and my
orgasm, I watched carefully, wondering if Ted would be sick. But he managed
to choke and gulp hard and he swallowed all of it. All around us, the guys
were getting their rocks off, and it was downright hazardous to move from
where I was, where at least Kelly and Porky had shot already. I stayed put,
feeling sticky with jizz both front and back (and I was!).
     James lay there eyes closed and moaning as Ted finished, and Ted stood
up. I was surprised by what happened next. With a funny look in his eyes,
Ted reached into his own undone-flap (when had he done that?), pulled out
his pud, gave it a few strokes and he shot his wad all over James' bright
purple jersey, his white pants and his exposed, moist cock. I didn't know
anyone could do it that fast, but Ted managed it somehow.
     "You fucker!" James said, getting mad after getting over the shock of
it. "You shot your jizz on me, you bastard. You must have thrown that game
deliberately, so you could suck on me! Did you? Did you?"
     Ted got angry, too, and threw a punch at James, hitting him square on
the jaw. James went over and was out like a light.
     "Why the fuck would I throw a game for that, shithead?" he said. "I
could have bought you out of petty cash if I had wanted you. And don't you
even think of coming near my niece again!"
     Ted stood up, adjusted his clothing, grabbed his helmet and walked out
through the jizz-stained floor and the gasping teammates. "Come on, guys!"
he snarled to his friends. "You got your jollies. Now let's get the fuck
out of this hick town!"
     I helped James to his feet and then got my shower. I was having
trouble believing the entire thing had happened. Even when I collected my
prints from James a few days later, a full set including the one with me
and Kelly jerking each other off, I didn't quite believe it. I kept those
photos and have them still, to remind myself of the whole experience.
     Years later, I was out of the closet and living in Milwaukee with my
lover, sitting at a table in a gay bar there waiting for him to finish work
one day. And who should come in the door but Kelly Billings. "Hey, Kelly!"
I called out.
     "Hedge!" I hadn't been called that in years.
     I hugged him tight and sat him down, bought him a drink. "What do you
hear from the old hometown?" I asked.
     James and his family had moved away soon after that game, and Kelly
had returned to being school quarterback. The photos had made their
circulation around the school, though thankfully none of the team jerking
off ever seemed to appear after James first handed them around.
     Ted had transferred to a prep school back East. Kelly mentioned this,
but I already knew it. "His father was furious, you know." Kelly said. "His
father had wanted Ted to go into politics, but with those photos around, it
was impossible. I hear he runs his father's European offices now."
     "I can believe that."
     "Well, here's something you won't believe I saw. Never said a word to
anyone about it. I was out jogging in the park the next morning early. And
I darned near ran into James McHaggerty waiting there. I was going to say
hello, but then he stood up and said, 'About time you showed up.'"
     "So who was it?"
     "Ted Chalmers!" Kelly breathed. "Ted handed him an envelope and James
said, 'It'd better all be here. My family has to move again because of
this.' 'Don't worry, it is.' Ted told him. 'And thanks again.'"
     "What was in the envelope?"
     "Money, I guess." Kelly shrugged. "I didn't see."
     "But that doesn't make sense!" I protested. "I already knew Ted threw
the game on purpose."
     "You did?" Kelly interrupted.
     I explained and then I said, "But why would Ted give James money? It
doesn't make any sense."
     And it still doesn't. Ted threw the game, not James. Too late to pay
for silence. I'm still confused by it all.
     The only thing I can think of is this: Ted would never have lost that
game with a quarterback like Kelly Billings. Nothing less than an
out-and-out for-all-time scandal would have sabotaged the political
aspirations of a father like Theodore Chalmers, Sr. And now Ted is in
Europe, where he always wanted to be, out of his father's clutches and in
charge of his own life.
     Surely that's worth going down on a cute hunk and giving him the blow
job of a lifetime!

				  THE END
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