After Practice

After Practice 1

It's hard to not be immediately aroused whenever I see him come out of that side door to jog over and join the rest of the Froshman soccer team on the field for practice. I mean, I know we just began trying to get ourselves together before the season officially started, and it's only been a few weeks since I first laid my eyes on him...but the way he made me feel was like...the most incredibly awkward crush of my entire life. I'm only fourteen years old, so I realize that's not saying much...but even at a distance, I could feel my breath getting short and my heart starting to race. It's so unfair that the angels blessed just one boy on the planet with that level of beauty. It was insane.

Dallas was his name. Dallas Nicolero. I don't even have to say it out loud anymore to get the appropriate shiver of infatuation to run through me like a heavy sedative. Something about that boy just...soothes me, you know?

"Are you spacing out on us again, Trey?" Joe asked me.

"Huh? No. I'm fine. I'm just...yeah, I'm cool." I replied, hoping to keep him from watching I could watch Dallas instead. more times than not, it's just hard to turn away.

He had these really dark brown eyes...but they blazed just as bright as any other color that you could imagine. It was like a single glance from him would burn a hole right through if given the opportunity. A set of chestnut colored high beams that nearly blinded me with their brilliance, and always forced me to turn away with a blush before I found myself falling head over heels in love with him to the point of no return. And his hair? A longish mop that hung just slightly below his ears...every strand expressing a subtle curve at the bottom. Almost as if to gently lick the sides of his cheeks in the most tantalizing way. A unique color. As if he had been bright blond when he was younger, but would be much darker when he was older. And yet, I was fortunate enough to catch the glorious sight of those shimmering boy locks somewhere in the middle of that transformation. The perfect mix of blond and brown...a dark shade of gold. The envy of the very sun itself. Every part of him was breathtaking. Stunning beyond all description. And as he approached the rest of us on the field, I found myself fighting off another one of my hair-trigger erections in front of the coach and the other boys around us.

Our coach told Bruce and Peter to take an armful of cones each and line them up between the two goals. "Alright, you guys, we're going to work on ball control today. We're going to take it, two by two, and weave in and out between the cones as fast as you can to the other end of the field, then I want you to circle around and bring it back the same way before passing it off to one of your teammates." He said. "Remember...I want speed for you all, but the goal is control. Don't get sloppy on me and start losing control of the ball. Keep it close, keep your footwork tight, make sure to keep your eyes open so you can see where you're going. You've got to have faith in what your feet can do with the ball. I don't want you guys running around with your heads down, staring at your shoes. That's a good way to lose the ball to the other team. Let's look alive out there."

We lined up beside one another, five and five. I hadn't even realized that I was standing directly across from Dallas in the other line. It made me a little nervous. We hadn't even played our first game yet, but it was clear from day one that he was probably going to be the all-star of the time. The things he could do, fake outs and pop ups and turning himself around while keeping the ball protected between both of his feet at all times...yikes! I felt like I almost sprained both ankles just watching him sometimes. But...more than that...being around him makes me self conscious about everything that I'm doing. The way I stand, the way my hair looks, what I happen to be doing with my hands, how my uniform's like being on a globally broadcast TV show at all times whenever he's around, and I have trouble getting myself to calm down enough to keep from visibly trembling in his presence. It's not easy, you know? Not at all.

Now, I know what you might be thinking...

Dream all you want, Trey! But it's never going to happen. You have absolutely NO chance of ever having him for like...a 'boyfriend' or anything, so why bother?

That's just it. I do have a chance. And that's probably the worst part of this whole scenario.

See...Dallas likes boys too...

When we were all trying out for the team, it was pretty much one of the first things that he told us about himself, outside of his name and how much he loves soccer. I guess he didn't want it to be this lingering question in the back of the minds of the coach or his teammates. I suppose he didn't want it to come as some great big 'shock' to the rest of us later either. Which kind of makes sense...but I'd be lying if I said that his admission and willingness to be openly GAY didn't nearly cause me to faint and fall back, right out of my own shoes. I it that easy? I'd NEVER have the guts to tell anybody that I liked boys in high school! High school is one of the most judgemental, most hostile, environments on Earth! I'd take a full blown firefight in a foreign country behind enemy lines any day over coming out of the closet in the ninth grade! Much less to a team of boys that I'm going to be playing sports with! Dude, that's terrifying!'s not like I'm constantly drooling over somebody that's just...untouchable, you know? I'm just...dealing with my desperate need to be a coward about this for now. I don't know what to do when it comes to asking a boy out on a date or anything like that. I've never kissed anybody. Never held hands. I don't know how to flirt, or meet somebody cute for the first time, or anything. One time, in the fifth grade, this one girl said she 'liked' me and wanted me to be her boyfriend, and I ran home every day after school for a month and a half trying to avoid her. Ugh! Humiliating.

Dallas was a bit ambitious for my first love. I'll admit it. Don't think that I'm insecure about my looks or worried about my sexuality...because I'm not. I can look at myself in the mirror and fix myself up a bit to the point where I feel like I look pretty cute. I'm not arrogant about it, I just think that I could catch somebody's eye if I really wanted to. And I might be in the closet, but I'm far from being 'confused' about what I want in a sexual partner. I don't hate myself, and I don't worry about suffering the eternal flames of Hell someday because I kissed another boy and liked it. That's not a malfunction in my psyche like it is for some people. It's just...sighhhh...God...

Dallas is soooo much for me to handle, you know? Just LOOK at him!

Both of our lines kept moving forward to be the next ones to run our part of the exercise, and I couldn't help but to keep stealing glances at him, you know? I mean...his legs. Omigod....his legs made my mouth water sometimes! Living in the midwest, most of us wear long pants or jeans a lot, and sometimes long sleeved shirts or hoodies. But when it came to our soccer uniforms and our school colors, those long, smooth, legs were totally exposed to my hungry eyes. I would, literally, imagine myself licking them all over, and sucking on the tender meat as I worked my way up to the treasures that he must have been hiding underneath them. I was beginning to get hard again, and had to fight hard to keep from poking out in the front. I just...I wanted Dallas so badly that it just plain HURT sometimes.

I didn't even know that I was staring until Dallas turned to look at me, probably catching on to the hint that I was totally obsessed with him in that moment. Wow...those brown eyes...

"Race ya!" He smiled, just the hint of a boyish dimple in his cheek as the other two boys on our team started heading back in our direction.

That smile nearly pushed me over the edge. I wasn't even fully hard, but felt like I was going to erupt volumes in my soccer shorts, regardless. I almost didn't even see Bruce kick the ball in my direction, and had to reach out with my left leg to catch it and start dribbling it forward around the first cone.

"Stay AWAKE, Trey! Come on! Let's get it together!" Coach hollered, and my face turned red as I tried to go on with the exercise after being caught off guard while staring blankly at my dream boy. Using the inside of my foot, with short, but quick, kicks of the ball, I navigated my way back and forth between the first few cones without much of a problem at all. But once Dallas got a hold of the soccer ball on the other side, it only took him a few seconds for him to catch up to me. Left side, right side, left side, right side...those long sexy legs of his flexing as he maneuvered back and forth like a pro. And he was smiling as he did it too! Hehehe, he just KNEW that he was the shit when it came to this game!

We both rounded the corner at the same time and started heading back towards where we started. I wasn't bad with my footwork, but I was nowhere near being as good as he was. Dallas beat me back to the beginning, and the coach blew the whistle to get us to line up and start all over again.

Soccer practice lasted about two hours after school, and sometimes the weight room was open for us to do squats or improve our leg strength...but today, the coach let us go early. Our first game was only a few weeks away, and he wanted us in tip top shape and ready to go. He never failed to remind us, "Each one of you could run out on that field and be a superstar. I believe in you guys. But superstars don't win games. TEAMS win games. The more you learn to get in sync with one another, the better we'll do against anybody that the other schools have to send our way. You got it?" And we all shouted in agreement. He had a way of keeping us hyped up, even when we were tired. "Good! Now go hit the showers. Relax. Keep up with your homework. I don't want to hear from any of your teachers telling me that you need to be booted from the team for poor grades. Studies come first. If I get any complaints, I'll have to let you go. That's the rule."

It hardly felt like two hours to me, but if it meant getting away from school and maybe getting a few games in on my Playstation tonight, then I'm all for it.

Dallas put a hand on my shoulder as we were walking back to the locker room, and he giggled, "You weren't racing at all. I thought I was gonna have some competition out there today."

Absentmindedly, I replied, "I'm just not in your league, Dallas. Seriously, I swear that you've got a third leg hiding around you somewhere to control the ball like that."

He laughed. "You might want to rephrase that, Trey! Sounds dirty!"

I wouldn't have even thought about any of that if he hadn't said it first. But that was just Dallas' sense of humor. You kind of had to be on your toes if you were going to catch his punchlines when he sucker punched you with them. Even the corny ones. Hehehe!


You know...the whole soccer team knew that Dallas was gay. They knew that he'd be changing with us, showering with us, and everything else that came along with being a part of our athletic little club. And they never really gave him any grief about it. never once. But I could feel a slight bit of tension when it came to the 'naked' stuff. I know that I wasn't imagining it, and I'm pretty sure that Dallas knew it too. I mean, you could just sense it in the air around you. I saw the other boys hesitate to take their shorts off in front of him, or pause slightly or blush when they had to pull their shirts off to change into their uniform. It was subtle and it was quiet...but you couldn't deny that the anxiety of them being around an openly homosexual teen was there. They were hyper vigilant about it. This 'hush' would fall over the whole locker room whenever Dallas was standing there with the rest of us, and even though they seemed to really like Dallas and were totally tolerant of the fact that he had the hots for other just wasn't the same as really being totally 'ok' with being naked in front of him. And that sucked. Because Dallas was the kind of guy who was totally ok with that, and just went off to another part of the locker room where they wouldn't have to be so self conscious about it all.

He would get dressed and undressed in another part of the locker room all by himself, and usually took a spot in the showers around the wall, facing the corner, where he could clean up without really interacting with the rest of us. I really didn't think that any of that stuff should matter...but then again, I'm gay too. So maybe I'm biased and just don't understand what the big deal is.

Plus, I was kind of pissed off that I never get to see Dallas naked and wet...with a thick river of soapsuds and bubbles sliding down his smooth, flawless, skin...right down the middle of his ass crack, and watching his long fingers handle and clean his pink tinted sack and shaft as the water cascaded down through his perfect hair...and slithered down the sides of his neck...over his erect nipples...and further down until...

FUCK!!! That boy makes me soooo *hard*!

When we all came out of the showers, I was disappointed to see Dallas walk out with a towel wrapped tightly around his waist, and he went to his own private part of the locker room to get dressed again. I remember looking around to see if anybody was paying me enough attention where I might be able to casually 'wander' over to the gay boy's section of the locker room and maybe catch a glimpse of something that would keep me jacking off long and hard and often from seeing it for the first time. That mouthwatering shaft, those smooth legs, the curve of that delicious ass of his. But I found myself getting erect just thinking about I decided to save myself the embarrassment of catching a glimpse of him in the nude and having to forever live with the shame of what that glorious vision did to me in terms of being undeniably aroused in front of my other teammates. So...I guess I'll just have to leave that up to imagination for now. Until I stop being such a damn COWARD!

God...I can actually HEAR him changing on the other side of these lockers. He's naked right now. If I thought I could get away with it, I'd grab the damp towel that he used to dry off with and cover my face with it while I jack myself off to one of the biggest explosions of my life!

I wish this was easier. Just...every piece of my heart just wishes that this could be more 'normal' than it feels right now. I don't know. Lifelong brainwashing is a bitch, sometimes.

I heard the other guys talking about hanging out or going to the mall or something, but...they didn't extend the invitation to Dallas. Again, it wasn't malicious in was obvious that they saw him as being different. A few jokes and a hug or two was all he ever got from them. And I felt like he deserved so much more than that. In the weeks that I've gotten to know him, Dallas has proven himself to be a really sweet, really funny, and really trustworthy, guy. But, like I said...I can't see the whole 'gay' thing from the outside like they can. I can't pretend that anything about a boy liking other boys seems gross to me. It isn't. It isn't, ok? Ugh! I wish the other guys could understand that. I'm sick of having to use extra energy to rebuild my self confidence over and over again when they do shit like this.

"Alright, guys. I'm out. See you all on Monday?" Dallas said, completely unphased by the things that, obviously, bothered me more than they bothered him.

"Definitely!" Said Bruce. "Take it easy, Dallas!" And he gave him a rather appropriate 'bro-hug'

"Take care, Dallas!" Said another boy.

"Dope hustle today, dude!" Said another one.

I can't explain why it bothered me. It shouldn't. They loved Dallas, and treated him like an equal, but...arrrrghhhh! It was just different! I mean, am I crazy for thinking that? What do I want from them? Should I expect them to make out with him after every practice? They're being nice! They're being more than tolerant. Maybe it's just me. Because I think Dallas deserves the whole world's worth of love and affection. The Earth, the Sun, the Moon, the stars...I'd give him all of the above if I could just get one kiss. Just one.

"Hehehe, what's with you?" Dallas asked as he turned to me and saw the strained look on my face. God, his eyes are stunning. I watched as he brushed some of his dark gold locks out of his view, and I couldn't help but to sigh out loud.

"Ummm, nothing. I'm fine. Just a little tired, that's all." I smirked, bashfully.

"Tired? Hehehe, tired from what?" He said. "I clearly kicked your ass out there today. You need to step up your game, man."

"Yeah. Maybe." I mumbled, feeling my breath struggling to get the words out at a volume that he could actually hear when I said them. "Maybe I'll be more juiced up on Monday."

"Let's hope so." He said. "I was looking forward to making you my wingman out there. I've seen you kick the ball around during practice. We could make a lethal team, you and me. I can't wait to see the look on those punks' faces when we bring the pain. Hehehe!"

The butterflies in my stomach were circling up and fluttering their wings to the point where they almost made me sick. And all I could do was giggle timidly in front of him. No rhyme, no reason...just giggling. Oh God, this was so AWKWARD for me!

"Well...I should...I should get going." I said.

"No problem. Are you walking? I'm going down Wade street for a few blocks before I have to turn off. You wanna walk together?" He said.

Ok, now my heart is just...having trouble trying to decide whether it's going to simply stop on a dime and kill me right here and now, or if it's going to start beating so hard and so fast that it's sure to exhaust itself in a matter of minutes and kill me anyway! Nothing about this is fair! Let me just go on record, saying that.

"Yeah. If...if you want. That'll be cool." I said. Jesus Christ...what am I doing to myself?

"Sweet! Stay right here, let me go back and grab my backpack real quick! K? It'll only take me a second." He said, and he smiled at me before hurrying off to go get his things so he could walk home from practice with me.

...THAT just happened!

My penis and I need to make a very quick agreement to NOT get hard while we're walking home together! You hear me? Do NOT get hard! You'd better listen to me, dammitt! Who's in control here? Huh? Behave yourself!

Please, please, please...behave yourself! Just for a little while, k?