First Down: How steamy are things going to get in the shower?

The exploits of a football player

Rain started falling, making Greg's life even more miserable. He had been sent to the bench to cool off. The coach had pulled him from the football game for a play or two. Greg had been running the risk of committing a foul. His mind was in chaos. Everything was pissing him off.

His college scholarship was on the line if he didn't smarten up. His grades were falling, and his playing was suffering from the amount of stress he was under. His girlfriend since middle school had finally given him the heave-ho. Greg had never been capable of living up to her expectations. When she had started talking about marriage, he had freaked out.

In response, she had walked out on him.

He wasn't prepared for the loneliness that had ensued.

Greg scrubbed his hand across his face. He just couldn't see himself with her long-term. Sure, she had been fun in high school … even the first couple of years of college, but he'd had no intention of settling down with her and starting a family.

There was so much he wanted to do first.

"Okay … head on in," the coach said. "But watch yourself. Play clean."

Greg grunted, hauled his helmet onto his head, and jogged onto the field. It was the last quarter, and they were tied 37:37. The other team had possession. Greg's position was outside linebacker. He was a big guy. Six-four, two-hundred-fifty pounds. Built like a truck. Their center tossed the ball back to their quarterback, and Greg started moving, checking their tight end. When the ball was passed to his check, Greg burst forward and nailed him to the field.

He rolled off the guy and leaped to his feet. No whistle—no foul. Clean tackle. For the rest of the game, Greg behaved himself. The score ended with a win for them 45:37.

The locker room afterward was in full celebration. The volume of boisterous voices, the smell of sweat-soaked equipment—the increasing flashes of skin as everyone loaded into the showers.

Greg held back. The group showering facilities made him anxious. The sight of all those naked men churned up his insides. It was a side of himself he didn't want to admit to, his attraction to men. Especially, when it came to his teammates. That felt even more wrong.

After some time passed, he yanked off his gear and threw it into the bin to be cleaned. Grabbing a towel off the rack, he headed for the large, tiled room with a multitude of showerheads. Some of the guys were sharing, their bodies bumping against each other as they washed.

Greg sighed.

Their flesh glistening and wet, covered in suds.

He concentrated on the task at hand. He doubled up with the quarterback, Devin, and stood under the spray then stepped out and started washing his hair and skin with body wash.

"Great game," Devin said before stepping under the water to rinse his face and hair. His eyes were shut, his mouth popping open and closed as the water cascaded over his full lips.

Greg sighed. "Yeah … sure was." He couldn't take his eyes off Devin. He looked away when his cock decided to respond to where his mind was taking him. The last thing he needed was to sport a boner in the shower. Sure, it sometimes happened to any one of them. Usually when the guys were engaged in talk about what they were going to do to their girlfriends later.

Now, he didn't have that excuse. Everyone knew he had been dumped.

"You were hitting them hard out there," Devin continued.

"Coach thinks a little too hard." Greg grinned while scrubbing under his arms. "I think he thought I was going to decapitate someone today."

"Nah … you know to keep your hands low."

Greg glanced down at Devin's abs then back to his eyes. Keeping his hands low on Devin's body would lead to some interesting places.

Devin smirked. "Don't think I didn't just catch that."

Greg furrowed his brow. "What?"

"Nothing." Devin went back to rinsing off then wandered out of the showers. Greg was the last one in the shower room. He decided to take his time—enjoy the hot water.

He emerged from the water and wiped his hands across his face, clearing his eyes. When he opened them, Devin was standing at the opening of the showers. He was still in his towel. It was wrapped around his waist, slung low, exposing the cut of his lower abs above his groin.

"Forget something?" Greg asked.

"You could say that." Devin let his towel fall to the floor. He stood there in the nude, waiting—watching. Greg shut off the water, unsure of what Devin was suggesting.

"What are you doing?" Greg thought it best to ask.

"Everyone has gone." Devin took a step toward him. "I've been watching you—watching."

"What do you mean?"

"The way you sneak glances at the guys." Devin stepped closer. "The way you try to distract yourself from reacting to their flesh."

Greg's chest rose and fell, exhaling an exhausted breath. He was tired of hiding. His gaze wandered over Devin's body. He was lean and muscular, his semi-hard cock thick.

"And …"

"And …" Devin smiled. "I would like to help you with that."