My work week was hectic, our building project had gotten to the phase everything seems to need to be done all at once.
By the time Thursday came round, I was tired but thrilled to see Miguel. He was just getting changed when I arrived.
Sweet just in time!
I love watching his beautiful V-shaped upper half get revealed then covered again! Oh and his lower half, those perfect V-cut abs!
Stop staring he might not like it. Don’t get overexcited just because he stroked your cheek, he is not yours to look at.
A soft smile spread over Miguel’s lips and he raised a brow at me.
Oh shit he noticed!
Quickly turning away I hastily changed.
Out on the pitch I tried to volunteer to be demonstrated on, but Cap said, “you can’t volunteer every time. Do none of the rest of you want to practice being tackled?”
There was a lot of head shaking from the others and Miguel said, “Stiffy gives the best feedback. So this way he gets to practice taking a hit, and we get good help in how to improve.”
“Aw, backing up your wife like a good hubby.” Teased Yon with a huge grin, then he got all serious, “oh shit, we still haven’t given Miguel a nickname!”
There was a lot of humming of thought.
“What about Sonny?” I suggested.
The others jeered, and Dave said, “you’re just trying to give your hubby a nice nickname.”
“No, I just think it fits, he has a sunny personality, and he is the youngest.” I protested.
Kevin mused, “I guess it would be ironic to everyone else.”
Cap dragged us all back to the present by yelling, “naming later, training now! Come on Stiffy you know the drill, stand over here. Right you lot, I want you to go properly low then lift up and through. For this practice you have to touch the ground with your dominant hand before making contact.”
“Yes Cap!”
Unfortunately, the speed and strength of most hits was significantly lower than usual due to having to touch the ground first.
Last but very much not least was Miguel, his large hand tapped the ground just before his shoulder slammed into my upper abs and his arm wrapped firmly round my waist.
Air burst out of my lungs as I went crashing to the mat!
Oh fuck yes!
Laying gasping for air like a landed fish, I luxuriated in the heavy pressure of Miguel’s solid body on top of me.
His large hand gently rubbed my abs while he asked, “you OK?”
“Yeah, that was great.” I wheezed and tried to keep the lust from my face.
As he moved to get up, I could have sworn his hand that was still underneath me briefly squeezed my bum as he pulled it free, but it was so fleeting I couldn’t be sure.
Please say you copped a feel of my butt!
A beautiful smile spread across Miguel’s handsome face and he stuck out his hand to pull me up.
Can I pretend to fall into his arms? Oh I would love to lean against that firm chest.
I was good and stood up straight, “thanks, that was a hell of a hit!”
Cap yelled, “come on you two, we need you to lift for line out practise.”
Getting in position in a line next to each other with our counterpart number 5, we lifted our teammates up, my side won the first practise and Miguel’s won the second.
Then Cap asked us, “how would one of you feel about changing to a number 5 for a go? You two have a good synchronicity even when on opposing sides.”
The others snickered at us when VD said out loud, “of course the love birds work well together.”
“Cap I’m happy to swap, if it’s OK with Winston or Prince.” I volunteered.
“I’ll try being a number 4.” Volunteered Harry, known as prince, it’s not just his name, Harry also has a mess of curly red hair on top of his large head.
Shifting positions, I stood on the other side of Kevin from Miguel and grabbed the smaller man’s waist band. My fingers lightly brushed Miguel’s large hands and I smiled to myself.
At Kevin’s signal we lifted and got all of the line outs. Wow we really do work well together.
I only realised my mistake of being on the same side as Miguel when it came to the practice game.
Nooooo! I won’t get tackled by him!
While laying wrapped loosely round the ball with Miguel braced over me getting the ball out to Cap, I thought maybe this isn’t so bad; his strong hands are definitely squeezing my shoulder and hip more than they need too. Oh and getting to put my head by his solid arse as we push a ruck, we really do get to grab each other in intimate ways while playing on the same side.
There was a far bigger gap between our scores than normal, when Miguel said after a maul, “Cap, can Stiffy swap back to the other side? This one-sided match is not helping us train as well.”
Paul teased, “Oh, is there trouble in paradise already? You want to tackle your wife?”
Grinning at the idea of being heavily tackled by Miguel, I said, “bring it on! The bibs will take you lot down!”
The men in the bright bibs, who had been losing, cheered heartily.
“Alright Stiffy, you and Prince swap back.” Said Cap with a smile.
It was fucking marvellous! Miguel’s tackles are second to none! The way he thrusts into my stomach with his shoulder and lifts me off my feet, it’s so good!
So I know it’s a two-way street, and I do take him to the mud almost as much as he flattens me, but I’m not focused on that. I’m thinking about the times he slams into me, knocking the air out my lungs and I crash to the ground with his hulking mass on top of me.
I’m trying to not get too excited about the way he seems to be groping my bum and chest ‘accidentally’ when he gets up.
I know I said he could when we were in the shower and I really want him to grope me more! But I’m going to get discovered being a perv if this keeps up.
By the end of the match, after the score reset, the bibs won with a narrow squeak and for a change I didn’t have to do punishment drills.
Damn are the celebratory drills harder?! Cap, you glorious sadist!
OK so there is no way Miguel hasn’t seen me ogling him in the changing rooms and shower. I’m trying really hard to be subtle, but he is so hot! Like so ridiculously hot!
Finding love isn’t easy when you're a 6”1’ muscular man with a face that makes little old ladies cross the street. Maybe the monstrous new second row will bring a little love to their rugby scrum.
First person story about a scary looking rugby player, who wants a Master.
Unreliable narrator, BDSM, strong language, insulting nicknames.
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