March 2nd, 2010
Strapping Lads by Wulfstan.
You see them in the gyms. They dont work out. They loiter. They do a set. They adjust their balls. Scratch a bit and pretend not to look at the guys who look at them groping their dicks. And the guys are there wondering if the tradehole’s wearing a traditional jock, are his balls encased in a well-worn web of netting, fitting just to a slight bulge to keep those jewels bouncing and sweaty and ready for the right guy to come along, grab them by the nads and lead them to the right milking pen. Where was I?
Oh, yeah. You see them in the gyms and you never suspect that that’s what the lads are really craving, ‘cept they havent got the balls–no pun intended–to go up to a man who looks like he knows what to do with those low hangers bursting with seed in those webbed jockstraps and admit, “yeah, buddy, I need it real bad.” No balls, no glory.
Two of them came to my attention in the locker room one late, loitery night when all the rest of the jackasses had gone home on pussy service. They just acted as though I was acting like I wasn’t listening to them…
May 3rd, 2009
The Changing Room by Mark.
Justin was a skinhead who loved football. He wore either black 20 hole doc martens or red 30 hole rangers. He always wore them with football socks, and if he wore any shorts under his jeans they were also football shorts, and worn for the effect they had on his big long dick!
He played for a local team, and was about their best player. But he always felt the odd man out, although he felt needed, as the team needed him to score the goals which he did regularly.
Saturday arrived again and he made his way to their home ground to play at home against a team from the neighbouring town…
February 5th, 2009
Rugby League by rugbyrigger.
I never imagined my passion for rugby league would be turn out to be a great boost for my sex life, but I don’t look back with any regrets. I first started playing rugby league at school: My family had a fair few players so I had plenty of encouragement and I developed a reasonable amount of skill in the game. This was back in the old days before the glamour of the Super League and as a strapping broad shouldered lad for my age at the time, though I’d admit not the brightest, performed far better on the field than the classroom.
Being a West Yorkshire lad, born and bred, there was no chance of playing rugby union. League tradition goes deep round here. I haven’t played for a few years now, but after my school days, I kept up the sporting life with a local Amateur Rugby League Football Club. I never had any delusions of going professional and didn’t waste too much time fantasising about playing for the likes of Bradford Northern or Leeds R.L.F.C., though I will admit that I did once harbour a secret aspiration to play for Featherstone Rovers!
