Back Row Love
Laying on this rain-soaked muddy field, crushed beneath 4 huge muscular sweaty men, I’ve never been happier!
The impact of the opposition’s prop almost made me moan in delight; he tackles like a freight train!
Damn I love playing rugby! I wondered for the umpteenth time, ‘how many other manly masochists have found rugby is a great way to get pummelled?’
Ah the joy of sweaty beef cakes huffing on top of me and grinding me into the dirt.
After I’m unfortunately released from their hulking weight, I charge down the pitch after the ball, I’ve got to help my ‘Doms’. I wish my team really were my many Doms, and brutally tackled me during practice for their own pleasure, but I’ll suffice with living in a fantasy for now.
As a big barrel-chested man of 6 foot 1, with arms and legs like tree trunks, and a face that makes little old ladies cross the road to avoid me, I’m not popular with men, most think I’m straight. The deep scar running from my light brown eyebrow down my right cheek to my jaw, doesn’t help either.
Any time I’m self-deprecating, our captain Brad always tells me, “don’t listen to what anyone says, you have kind eyes and a sincere smile, one day you’ll find a lady who appreciates you for you.”
But Brad is the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, and damn is he hot! So not overly helpful listening to a straight guy like him.
Since school I’ve played rugby, and since I sexually matured and figured out I’m a masochist, it’s been my release for wanting pain from men.
No one wants a huge beast of a man as their sub, so getting tackled by straight guys is as good as I get.
We won the match 20-18, Larry our slender fly half got an amazing run through their defence in the last five minutes, and with a skilful conversion; woo hooo, it’s party time!
Now for the part I was most scared of when joining this team and how I got my nickname of Stiffy, it’s shower time.
Guess what happens when I enter a shower room with 20 muscle bound beefcakes? Yep, I go hard as a rock. I mean in my defence I’ve often been flattened into the mud by them when we practise!
Larry yells, “watch your arse here comes Stiffy.”
The others laugh good naturedly; to be fair, compared to some of their nicknames mine is downright nice!
I chuckle and reply, “damn right, I mean, you’re all so fucking sexy, how could I resist?”
The others laugh and jokingly say things like, “knock it off you pansy.”
“Ooo get you, you fairy.”
I don’t mind the ribbing, I know they are just having a laugh, and I’ve seen firsthand they wouldn’t be rude to an openly gay man.
What I find hard is when Paul, our tight head prop and an absolute beast of a man with gorgeous dark wavy hair, says, “if we’re that sexy, come suck this.” His huge hands lift his soft member and I almost drool, his deep voice tickles my ears as he asks the echoing tiled room of men, “none of you mind if I go first do you?”
Fuck me I want to suck him off!
“You couldn’t handle my technique.” I bluff back; I have no technique. The only guys I’ve ever been with wanted to ride me, and I think 3 out of the 4 thought I was straight.
Brad’s large pale hand clips Paul round the head, “knock it off Splurger,” told you others had worse nicknames! “You know it’s not Stiffy’s fault he has a sensitive body.”
I still can’t believe they fell for that excuse. I am sensitive, but the main reason I’m hard is your muscular naked flesh.
Fuck don’t look down you idiot, oh fuck Cap is big! He looks like a beef-cake angel with his slightly curly blonde locks and a classically handsome face that has a smile for everyone. But God damn it it’s hard to be round Cap when he’s hung like a fucking horse!
“Oh come on DD, I’m only playing with Stiffy.” Says Paul with an adorable whine in his voice, that he only ever uses with Cap.
The others laugh at their huge prop’s pleading, but DD replies, “I don’t care, its mean.”
“Honestly, it’s fine Cap, I don’t mind.” I say with a shrug, then turn to Paul with a dark grin, “as long as Splurger knows, one day I’ll take him seriously and he’ll never be able to be sucked by a woman again!”
My fake evil laughter echoes in the silence for a moment, followed by everyone laughing and the sound of Paul being slapped hard on the back. I’m kind of jealous, I would love to be slapped by them like that.
Most of us go out for lunch to celebrate with the families and girlfriends who have come to watch our match, it’s an early end for most with it being Sunday.
Later that evening after us single guys call it a night, I’m sat back in my house alone, and I wonder if I’ll ever get to have a big buff man of my own to call master?