Soccer Foot and Other Balls

(A note to readers: Yes, I know this story does not have any gay sex in it, but it is primarily setting the stage for chapters to come. That being said, let me know what you think. A big thanks to LaRascasse for her editing.)

*

I stood at the bottom of the hill, facing my dorm. I had just arrived at college. It was mid August and my truck was packed full. I took a big breath as I just stood there in the middle of the sidewalk, taking it all in. The trees were still green and the grass had just been mowed, the sent still lingering on the slight breeze wafting lazily through the valley in which the college was located. There were very few vehicles and people around, as it was still a week before freshman orientation began and two weeks before classes actually started. The only people who would be on campus in the coming week were those playing a fall sport. Even with that group coming in, many athletes would not arrive until much later in the afternoon. I, however, was eager to get started on this next chapter of my life.

I looked back into my truck to all my belongings packed away in there. I knew there was no way I wanted to start unpacking now, especially when I didn't even know where I was located in the building, so I made my way up the hill and through the open front door. I was greeted by a friendly face: female, obviously mid to late twenties, bright green eyes behind a pair of glasses, full, red lips and a nose with a slight left crook to it. Silver loops hung from each ear and her hair, about shoulder length, bounced as she spoke.

"Hi there, I'm Ricky. I'm your RD. Who are you?" she asked as she held out her hand.

"Xander. Xander McMullen. Nice to meet you, Ricky" came my reply as I shook her hand. The handshake was a brief, professional one and once it stopped, Ricky looked down to the table in front of her to find my name and key. As she was searching her lists, I took a moment to look around. The table was positioned in the entrance to what seemed to be the common room. A well worn pool table was positioned right behind her chair. A couple couches, stuffed chairs and a low table lay beyond the pool table and a television sat elevated on a little loft in the far corner. Ricky speaking brought me out of my observations.

"Looks like you are in room 112. Go through this door, take a right, and it will be the last door on the left at the end of the hall" she said, as she indicated a door just to my right, leading into the main hallway. I thanked her and made my way to my room. As I walked down the corridor, I was constantly looking to my left and right, exploring the new place that would be my home for the next year. I saw a half-finished bulletin board, partially filled with information about the offices on campus. I passed by Ricky's room, made fully noticeable by the big cut-out of the Survivor logo with the surrounding circle saying "RD Erika 'Ricky' Jane." I also made a mental note that the RA for my floor was located only a few rooms down, in 117, and that his name was Ryan.

As I reached my room, I looked at the door. There was one name tag, mine, on the door. Remnants of tape on the door to the right of my tag reminded me that I was supposed to have a roommate, but that he would not be there, which brought back bad memories. Jonathan, one of my good friends from high school, was supposed to be my roommate. We had known each other since the second grade and grew up taking the same classes, playing the same sports and hanging out a lot after school. I was the goalie on our high school football team and he was the center fullback, or stopper. With the two of us together on the field, not a single goal was scored, and our high school team won the sectional title three years in a row while only letting two goals be scored against us, and both of those happened in the same game junior year when I was out due to a stomach bug that had me puking every five minutes and my coach wouldn't let me play. Jonathan had applied and been accepted into the college and recruited for the soccer team, just like me. We both planned on keeping our shut-out streak alive well through our college years, but unfortunately, his life was cut short.

I stood, still as a statue as I remembered that night, merely a week ago, when my friends and I were all partying. We were at Gerald's house. His family had a large back yard and his parents didn't mind our partying, so long as we stayed safe. We were all pretty wasted when Jon got a text from his girlfriend, asking him to come over and fuck her. He got up to go, letting us know what was up, but we pulled him back down and made him sit. We were not about to let him go off and drive in his condition. We told him to text his girlfriend and tell her he would be over as soon as he sobered up, and he thumbed around on his phone for a moment. About five minutes later, he excused himself to go to the bathroom and headed into the house and we lost track of him. Not even two minutes later, we heard his car engine roar to life. Registering the noise, Gerald, another one of our soccer buddies, and I sprang up and started running for where we knew his car was parked. By the time we got there, Jon was already two blocks down the street and headed for his girlfriends house. His glowing red tail lights were still in sight as we saw him run a stop sign at the intersection to the main street and get hit on the driver side by a tractor-trailer. The sound of distant crunching metal was playing in my head as I heard someone saying "Hey, are you ok?"

I snapped out of my memory and looked into the face of a man not much older than me. "You ok man?" he asked as I quickly re-familiarized myself with my current surroundings.

"Yeah, a little shaken, but I'll be fine. Got lost in a memory." I watched as he studied me. A look of knowing came across his face when he looked at the door. I knew that some people at the college must know of what happened to Jon, and this man looked as if he could be my RA, which would make him one that may have been told the story.

"Ok. Xander, is it?" I nodded to confirm that he was correct. "I'm Ryan, the RA for this floor. If you need to talk to someone about what happened, I am here. Just come over and knock on my door." His expression showed genuine concern and I thanked him for the offer and excused myself to enter my room. He turned around and left as I took my key and opened up my door.

I entered the room just far enough to allow the door to shut behind me and surveyed my room. There were two beds, both with mattresses still in a plastic wrapping, a comforting sight, as I knew that the beds were new and didn't have to wonder about what was done on them before. I also cracked a slightly evil smile, thinking about ways to break the mattress in. There were also two desks, each equipped with a chair, two sets of drawers on the wall opposite the desks, with a counter above them that housed the cable hookup and mirror. I looked in the mirror for a moment and admired myself, as I tend to do from time to time. My short, dirty-blonde hair was perfectly spiked in the front. My bright green eyes were at the perfect angle to catch a glint from the light. My nose had a slight crook in it from an injury when I was 14: I took a soccer ball square to the face when trying to block a penalty kick. My face was smooth, having just shaved earlier in the morning.

When I finally had enough of myself, I finished inspecting the rest of the room. A sliding door closet stood on either side of the drawers. A single window was on the wall directly opposite the door and a radiator heater sat just below it. I walked around and inspected everything and debated, in my head which, bed I would take. I decided on the far bed, as it was closer to the window and was also positioned in a way that aligned with how I slept, liking to lay on my stomach with my head turned to the right and not facing directly into a wall.

With my bed choice made, I headed back out to start unloading my stuff from my truck. Being on the first floor was very welcome. As I exited my room, I noticed a door leading outside to my left. I went over to it, opened it up and checked outside. The door led out the side of the building, and from there, I could clearly see a road with parking spaces that ran behind my dorm. I went back into the building and down the hall to the main entrance, where Ricky was still sitting, thought she was watching a show on the television in the common room. I asked her if I could prop the side door open to make unloading easier. She told me that she would go prop it open and I should just go get my truck and bring it around. By the time I was parked behind the dorm, the side door was wide open, and Ryan was standing in the door way. He came over to my truck and asked if I wanted him to help me move my stuff in and I graciously accepted his offer. We had all my stuff moved into my room within fifteen minutes, and he left me to set everything up in my room.

I took my time unpacking. It was 10:00AM when I arrived and even with everything that already happened, I knew that there was no way an hour had passed yet, but I checked my phone anyway. 10:48AM is what it read, a little later than what I thought, but still plenty of time to casually unpack and not have to frantically get everything ready before a short practice later tonight. I started by positioning my fridge so I could get it plugged in and cooling down and could put drinks in it later. I then set up my television and gaming system and turned the TV on to have a show playing in the background while I continued settling into my new surroundings. I settled on CMT and let the country music flow in the room while I unpacked all of my clothes and got them hung up in the closet or folded and placed neatly in a drawer.

*****

I lost all track of time. My room was now almost entirely put together, with a few minor things to take care of here and there, but my stomach was rumbling terribly. I checked my phone. 1:33PM. No wonder I was so hungry. I had a small bowl of cereal in the morning before leaving home, and that was well before 9. I decided that the rest of the unpacking could wait and I headed down to the main street of the town to find a place to eat. I settled on the local diner, the Jet, as I was really itching for a burger and nice cold chocolate milkshake.

As I walked into the college town diner, the smell of fryer grease and coffee quickly assaulted my nostrils, and made me even hungrier. I took a seat at the bar and an older waitress, probably later 30s, came over and handed me a menu. I took a quick look at their selection of burgers and decided to just go with a classic cheeseburger: beef, cheese, lettuce, ketchup. I got the waitress' attention and ordered my burger, which came with fries, and added my milkshake to the order. A couple minutes later, my drink was set in front of me and my food arrived less than ten minutes after that. The place was virtually dead at this time of day with so few college students in town, so my waitress was just idling behind the counter and struck up a conversation with me as I ate. She asked what sport I played, which then trailed off into further questions about my history in the sport, why I chose the college I did and if I had any future career plans. The conversation was enjoyable and I ended up staying in the diner for about a half hour after I finished my meal, just talking with the waitress. When I paid my tab, I added in an extra five dollars as a tip to the kind waitress and headed back to my room.

There were a few more cars parked behind the dorm when I got back. More athletes must have arrived within the past hour or so. As I was walking to the side door, which was propped open again, two broad shouldered, muscled men walked out of the door. They looked identical in all aspects except for the fact that one had his dirty-blonde hair short and spiked and the other wore his longer, just shorter than shoulder length. As they walked out, I asked them if they needed a hand. They accepted my offer and I followed them over to their vehicles and helped them unload. They lived on the third floor and had quite a bit of stuff, but we still managed to get it all up in their room within a half hour.

"Thanks a lot for all the help, man" the longer haired guy said.

The shorter haired man chimed in "Yeah man, thanks. Shit Vik, we haven't even introduced ourselves yet" he said as he hit long hair's arm. "I'm Vinny. You can call me Vin. And this is my brother, Viktor. You can call him Vik."

"Nice to meet you Vin and Vik. I'm Xander."

"You on the football team too?"

"Not the football you're talking about."

"Damn dude, I thought for sure you were a football player. Didn't think any of you soccer players had any strength in ya."

"Alright Vin. I won that bet. Now, pay up" Vik said as he held out his hand. Vin put a ten dollar bill into his brother's open hand, which Vik promptly put into his pocket. I chuckled at this, finding it funny that, not only was I thought to be a football player, but that there was a bet involved with that thought also. We talked for a little after that, but I left soon after to let them unpack and to finish my own room.

*****

The rest of that afternoon passed by slowly. I eagerly watched my clock while playing a video game, waiting for it to near the time of our first practice: 6:00. Not the best time in the world, but I was itching to be back out on the field. As it neared 6, I got out all of my soccer stuff and began changing for practice. I had everything on and ready to go, except for my spikes, which I would change into down at the field. For now, I was wearing my sneakers.

When I headed down, I quickly found some of my teammates, as they were all headed down too. I talked with a few as we descended the "Green Monster," a large metal staircase leading down a hill to the field and gym. Most of the player I talked to were other freshmen and came from schools just far enough away to where I never played against them in my high school career. I made quick bonds with these guys, even though they were offensive line hopefuls and I would rarely work directly with them. We continued talking about our high school glory days until the coach walked out onto the field.

Coach Arthur Donald was a very imposing man. Even in the wide open space offered by the soccer field, he managed to gain control of the entire area just by stepping onto the turf. He stood about 6' tall and wasn't the typical scrawny soccer player. He was quite buff, with muscles easily showing in his arms and legs. His jet black hair was short and well cared for, styled to come forward to a spike in the front. Dark chocolate colored eyes stared at us players as he evaluated the recruits for the year. When he spoke, a faint British accent still lingered in his voice.

"Fall in!" he yelled out, causing a convergence of players to his location. Once the last player had come within earshot, he continued. "I'm your Coach. Now, laps, twenty of them. Get to it."

Chaos erupted as we all started running, frantically trying to find a spot in line to run laps. Eventually, a steady line was formed. Most of us were able to keep a steady and brisk pace. A small group of players, made up of the four returning mid-fielders and myself, were well ahead of the bulk of the group. There was a smaller group composed of those who were those falling behind, although that group grew by about one person every couple of laps. By the time the first five of us finished, we had lapped the main group thrice, giving us a bit of time to rest and stretch while the others kept running. I took a brief moment to inspect the players I finished with. The tallest of them had to have been 5'8" at most, and my 6'3" frame towered above them. Coach Donald turned his attention from the group furthest behind to those of us who had finished. He showed no surprise as he inspected our group, at least until he saw my face standing there with his returning players.

"You there, who are you?"

"Xander McMullen, sir." He looked down at the clipboard in his hand.

"My list says you are a goalie. That correct?"

"Yes, sir"

"Peter, did he really keep up with you guys?"

One of the other four players that I finished with spoke up. "Yes, sir. He did. I am as surprised as you are."

With that, Coach Donald stepped over to me, looked me square in the eye, held out his hand and said "Welcome to the team, son. Glad to have you on board."

At that point, the bulk group started to finish up and we moved on, not waiting for the stragglers, one of which was a returning goalie, to get done. The rest of practice passed by in a blur of drills and calisthenics. One interesting tidbit that I did manage to pick up amidst the flurry of activity was that Coach Donald was a goalie himself and had quite the record in his college, and brief professional, career.

*****

Exhausted from the intense two hour practice, I lazily stripped out of my sweat-soaked practice clothes. I wrapped a towel around my waist, grabbed my shower kit and headed for the bathroom. I had heard that the bathrooms had been redone, and when I entered to take my shower, I could see how. There were three shower stalls, all individual units. Each stall had two curtains, an outer one and an inner one, that allowed for some space in which one could undress and hang a towel without being directly in the shower. The inner curtain kept water from getting into the little storage area when the shower was actually on. None of the showers were in use and just chose one and went in.

I drew the first curtain behind me and hung my towel up on one of the hooks. I reached in the shower and turned the water on so it could warm up before I got under the stream. While I waited for the water to reach a bearable temperature, I toyed lazily with my cock. It quickly sprang to life and within mere seconds, it was fully hard. I took a moment to think about the last time I had cum and realized that it had been a good two weeks. My girlfriend and I were supposed to meet up last week before I came here, but Jonathan's accident...

My cock quickly went flaccid thinking about the loss of my best friend, but the water had warmed up by this time, so I jumped into the shower. The warm water cascading over my body washed away more than just the sweat and odors of my body. It also cleared my mind of my thoughts of Jonathan. I began to think back to the practice today and speculated what future practices would be. We already had another one scheduled for 7 the next morning.

After spending several minutes in quiet contemplation, content to just let the warm water wash over me, I grabbed my soap and started lathering up my body to get it clean. I worked hard to get and keep my body in the shape that it was, so occasionally, I took extra time to admire my body as I cleaned it; this was going to be one of those times. I started at my pecs, firm and shaved bare. My nipples perked up as I rubbed them, one after the other. This extra attention made my dick start to perk up and I could feel it getting hard as I continued down to my abs. My fingers drifted against the ridges of my six-pack, causing me to laugh a little as I was slightly ticklish. I ran my fingers through the slight patch of blond hair that I had left on my lower stomach, a happy trail that led to a clean-shaven cock and heavy set of balls.

My left had massaged my nut-sack. Shaved clean and hanging low, filled with two weeks' worth of cum, begging for escape. My right hand lathered up my cock, slowly stroking it as it grew hard from the attention I was giving it. Soon, it was at its full length, ten and a half inches. I pulled the foreskin down, revealing the sensitive head to be cleaned. I gently rubbed my soapy hand over the tip of my cock, the gentle stimulation causing me to get dangerously close to nutting in the shower stall. Realizing how horny I really was, I quickly washed my legs and hair and rinsed my entire body off. I turned the shower off, grabbed my towel and wrapped it around my waist, not even taking any time to dry off. I gathered up my soap and shampoo and headed back to my room.