The Stench of Rugby

All characters are 18+

Sharing this in celebration for the Ireland win over SA last night!! ☘

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The ground seemed to shake. Two hundred and eighty pound of solid muscle barrelled toward me from four different directions. The idea of running had left my mind seconds ago, now all I could do was stand there and wait.

I braced for it, but I wasn't a big guy. I was here because I was fast, not because I was strong. A shoulder crashed into me like a train, bursting the air from my lungs and bending me in half. A second strike from the left and I was out.

I woke to the sound of mumbled chatter, it grew louder and louder as I became more conscious, and when my eyes blinked open, the locker room became visible.

"Good game, mate!" I heard someone say, and felt a large hand on my naked chest, "that was one hell of a tackle you took".

I tried to look down at my body, but the room swam around me when I moved. I lay back and groaned with the pain in my stomach. It was only a training match, but my team was made up of a tough bunch of guys, and there was no such thing as taking it easy.

"You pissed yourself" Andre Carr told me, "so we stripped you".

The words didn't mean much for a moment, until they did. I sat up quickly, ignoring the spinning in my head, and looked down at my bruised stomach and flaccid dick.

"What the fuck, man" I groaned, cupping myself as I lay on the large wooden table, "couldn't you have at least covered me?"

"We did" Andre laughed, "but you know what the guys are like".

The large man smiled once more and left with his bag over his shoulder. I watched as most of the others packed up and left too, until only Tommy Redmond remained.

We didn't get on. He was all muscle and strength, and saw no place on the team for an eighteen-year-old, one hundred and fifty pound teenager. I stared at the back of him as he dried his black hair with a towel. He was naked, and his strength was evident, even in his back.

"Thanks for the tackle" I growled, sliding my legs off the table, but sitting still to avoid the pain.

Tommy glanced around at me and his eyes narrowed.

"You think that was a tackle?" He scoffed, "kid, if I'd have tackled you, you'd be dead".

I rolled my eyes, but even that made me wince.

"Tackle" he snorted, and turned slightly as he dried, giving me the perfect view of his long barrel of meat.

He was in his thirties, covered in thick hair, and sporting a large, fleshy cock. Of course nobody knew that I secretly stole glances at all of them or they'd certainly have me kicked from the team. They also didn't know that I'd stolen countless pairs of their sweaty underwear to beat off to either, especially Tommy's.

"If that's how you take a real tackle" Tommy continued, and now he was facing me and I couldn't help but steal another glance, "then you're useless to the team come the real games".

I shrugged. I'd learned a long time ago that arguing with Tommy was like arguing with a steroid fuelled toddler. I let him continue his rant, and enjoyed the sight of him instead.

"Back when I was your age" he told me, sliding the towel between his legs and drying his junk, "I'd take on guys two and three times my size, and still get the try".

"Fascinating" I smiled sarcastically, and he shot me a look of fury.

"That's your problem, kid" he snarled, dropping the towel, "you're a smart ass".

"Am I?" I asked, unbothered.

Tommy had a short fuse indeed, but I didn't know it was that short. He rushed toward me, his large cock smacking between his thick, hairy thighs, and before I knew it, his hand was around my throat and I'd been pulled onto my feet.

"Yes" he breathed into my face, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't trembling as I stared up at the unit of a man, "you are".

I gulped, or I tried to anyway as his hand remained around my throat. His eyes bore holes into me, and then I noticed something else.

Tommy's warm rod was pressing firmly against my bruised stomach. The idea alone made my own one swell, and as much as I fought it, my cock stiffened to erection. Fuck.

"I knew it" he sneered, releasing my throat and staring at my boner as I tried to cover it, "I told the other guys, but they said it wasn't you. They said that little Toby wouldn't steal people's underwear, but I knew it!"

My cheeks burned red. Usually I'd be able to outsmart Tommy with wit alone, but he had me on this one. I swallowed a lump in my throat and turned away, but his hand grasped my arm and turned me back. My dick became soft almost instantly.

"Admit it" he hissed, "admit that you're the little perv whose been robbing our underwear".

"Get off me" I growled, trying to yank my arm away, but failing.

"Admit it"

His grip tightened and began to burn as he crushed my arm with his strong hand.

"It wasn't me!" I barked, but Tommy was already dragging me across the locker room.

"Oh really" he smirked, digging into his bag and retrieving a pair of black boxer briefs, "then this won't make that little prick hard".

Without another word, Tommy shoved the damp, musky underwear over my face. I inhaled immediately, feeling my lungs fill with the ripe stench of his cock, balls and hole. No matter what disgusting images I tried to conjure up in my mind, my dick ignored them and swelled once again.

"It wasn't you, was it not?" He cackled, rubbing the crotch of his sweaty briefs against my nose and mouth, "try telling your cock that!".

He released me and I stumbled backwards, mortified and devastated. I'd been playing on the team for nearly a year. It was all I'd ever wanted, and now it was going to be over. Why did I have to let my fucking horniness get the better of me? I wanted to punch myself for being so stupid.

"Sorry" I mumbled. I didn't know what else to say, "I'll quit on Monday".

"Quit?" Tommy scoffed, "why would you do that? You're shit, but you're not that shit".

I cocked a brow as I held my junk. "You're going to report me" I said.

"This isn't high school, kid" Tommy chuckled, "I handle my own problems".

He turned around to me once more. His dark eyes studied me from head to toe and a grin lit his stubbled face.

"On your knees like a good chap" he snarled, and I stared at him, bewildered.

"W... What?"

"Are you deaf? I said get on your knees". His voice was cold and stern. Did he want me to grovel? Did he want me to beg him not to tell the coach or the other guys? There was nobody else around, so if I had to endure a humiliating apology, then so be it.

I got down on my knees, still holding my crotch and looked up at him.

"I'm sorry" I said, feeling every bit as embarrassed as Tommy wanted me to feel, "it won't happen again".

"Yes it will" he sneered, "but it won't just be my underwear that you're sniffing anymore".

He stepped toward me and as he did, I flinched. Taking a punch from Tommy would be like taking a punch from Mike fucking Tyson, but he didn't punch me, he wrapped his fist around his large, flaccid cock and held it out.

"Sniff" he smirked, and my eyes widened.

"W... What?"

"Sniff it, go on, inhale the scent of a real man".

It was surely a joke. Tommy Redmond was the pinnacle of straight men. He drove a truck, drank beer, went hunting, and did all that other shit that straight men do, and yet he was holding his thick cock in his hand and telling me to sniff it.

"Do I need to make you do it?" He asked, and I shook my head and leaned forward.

My heart crashed against my chest. There was no way in hell that this wasn't going to end in some form of assault. Tommy hated me, and this was the perfect opportunity to punch my head in, but he didn't even flinch when I hung my nose inches from his cock and inhaled.

His strong, masculine scent filled my lungs and hardened my cock once more. It was the most beautiful aroma in the world, and so far I'd only gotten it in a dulled down version from his underwear. This however, was fresh from the source.

"Yeah, fill your little lungs with it" he cackled, "my balls, too"

He held his pole up and almost instinctively I began huffing the warm stench from there as well. It was like a drug ripping through my body, making me drunk on his fumes.

"Now get your nose in my ass, kid" he hissed, and before I could even answer him, two large, hairy cheeks closed in around my face, and I was met with a new, powerfully amazing fragrance.

He smelled of man. Pure, visceral, unadulterated man. I sucked it into my airways, becoming light headed as I did, and felt my cock spill pre-cum onto the tiles.

Tommy turned back around, but I wanted to return to it. I needed to return to it.

"Kiss it" he ordered, clasping his hands around his muscular waist, "kiss it and thank me for not whooping your ass".

He had me in a state of violent arousal. There was nothing in the world that Tommy Redmond couldn't get me to do. I leaned forward once again, still smelling him in my nose, and pressed my lips to the warm flesh of his long cock.

"Look up at me like a good little slut".

I stared at him with my lips puckered against his tool.

"Thank you" I mumbled, "for not whooping my ass".

He sneered down at me. "And my feet" he said, "both of them".

I arched my back as I lowered myself to his large feet. I pushed my lips against the first one as he stood tall above me, and did the same to the second one. I didn't care how humiliating it was to be begging at the feet of the man who I hated. This was hot.

"I bet you want to suck it, don't you, boy?" He snarled as I sat back on my ankles with my hard cock pouring pre-cum between my thighs. I nodded instantly and Tommy scoffed.

"That's the problem with little bitches like you" he growled, and he was stroking it now. "You think you're entitled to the prize without working for it".

His cock began to stiffen in his grip, and I watched it hungrily.

"Well you only get the prize when you work for it, son" he stepped forward, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking my head back, but continued to jerk his cock with the other hand.

"When you prove that you're worthy of this cock, then I'll stick it in you, but until then, you're just gonna' have to settle for this".

Tommy beat his eight inch cock with his fist like it owed him money. The head became slick with fluid after just a minute, and I watched and winced in his grasp.

His heavy balls bounced with each stroke, the wet sound of jerking filled my ears, and I wanted desperately to tend to my own erection, but I was almost certain that I'd get a slap, or worse, for that.

I knelt in place for at least five minutes as Tommy jerked off mere inches from my face. I could smell his juices, and the fresh sweat that was rolling down his hairy chest. I was on the verge of cumming without even touching myself, until the large rugby player gasped.

"Open your mouth!" He snapped, and I did so, instantly.

A jet of thick sperm burst out from his large cumslit and sprayed across my lips. I felt it drool onto my tongue as another fierce explosion sent a rope of seed across my eye and down my cheek. Tommy groaned and fucked his own hand harder as more cum drenched my face. My mouth pooled with it, and my eyes stung as he emptied himself over me.

I'd never seen as much cum in my life. Each stroke sent another wisp of it onto me, until I was literally dripping in his mess.

The large, sweating brute let go of me as he squeezed the last of his fluids into my open mouth. I could feel it slide back and forth over my tongue, and spill down my cheeks as though I was crying cum.

He stared down at me with a devious grin on his handsome face.

"You just stay right there" he nodded, and returned a moment later with his phone.

"Just in case you decide to get on my nerves again" he told me as he snapped a photo, "now drink up, son".

I gulped it down in two, savouring the delicious flavours as his thick sperm oozed into my stomach, coating my throat in it's path.

I remained on my knees with cum trailing down my body as Tommy dressed and walked back over to me.

"See you next week, boy" he smirked, and left me there to finish myself off.