The Mentor

This is a first attempt at a dual POV story and involves my fantasy about a real person, but names have been changed to prevent getting busted somehow. Be kind.

8 Years Ago

Me: I had nothing to do on a Sunday, no games or practices and I had a message from Leslie that her son Joey's club soccer team was playing at the complex near me. Joey played for the U19 team for the Pyramid Soccer Club, PSC, and he and several of his teammates were either already committed or legit D1 college soccer prospects. Given my original M2M experience with a college soccer player, spending an afternoon watching prime-of-their-life studs playing soccer was perfect.

It was a perfect afternoon, temps in the upper 70's and not a cloud in the sky. I parked my Jeep near the field and carried my camp chair and a small cooler to the sideline where Leslie sat with a few other friends. The PSC team was warming up on the field and I scanned the players, trying to remember names and colleges. There was Juan, committed to Wake Forest, Chip who was going to College of Charleston and Senn was looking at 3 different schools and playing the offers for the best possible deal. Of course, proudly I could say that Joey was headed on a full ride to my alma mater, site of my first time with another man, to play for the very same team that my original hookup did.

Just before kickoff, Joey sprinted over to his mother, said hi to the other friends and shook my hand briskly, telling me how excited he was to be going to "our" school. The sweat and musk were intoxicating and it took all the self-control I had to act cool.

Joey: Another road game for my club team and my mind was elsewhere. I signed with my future college this week and was jacked, but never had a real chance to celebrate. Full frickin' ride, the first one in 5 seasons and the last guy was now playing EPL for Tottenham, after 3 years in the ACC and 1 national championship. I had big boots to fill, or maybe it was big shorts. I wasn't worried, I never had problems filling out shorts, or a jock, before.

Mom's usual friends were here, the hens club, and were over on the sideline in their chairs. I saw a Jeep drive up that I thought I knew and almost had my head taken off by a volley from Juan. I think it's Paul's car. He's the friend of my mom who first turned me on to my new school, almost 3 years ago. Always mindful of the NCAA recruiting rules, he was a good advisor and helped me weigh a lot of offers without being pushy. I've never really felt attracted to another dude, but there was something about him that made me want to listen to him, hang with him, talk about my issues. I have friends, but not many I'd spill my guts to. For him being my mom's friend, I felt like he was one of my best.

Before the game, I jogged over to say hi to my "fans" and before heading to the bench, tried to be all cool and shake Paul's hand. I think I mumbled something about "our" school and caught myself staring at him from the waist down, afraid to be caught staring at this face. I know, wise choice, get busted staring at a dude's package, right? So I fixed on his feet, wearing Teva sandals and noticed the puka shell anklet he always wore. It matched the one he gave me last month for my 18th birthday that I also wore all the time, even now, under my socks and shinguard. Sure hope the ref doesn't look too close during equipment check . . . . . . . ok, game time.

Me: The game was a rout. Joey and team demolished the local team like men playing with boys. I sat back, engaged in idle chatter and admired the athleticism and strength on display. I couldn't help but wonder about Joey. His demeanor seemed off pregame, almost nervous, glancing down instead of looking eye to eye. I thought I caught him sneak a peek below that belt, but that's silly, isn't it?

I was expected back home shortly by the other half, so I left the game and the sideline with a wave the Leslie and her friends, and caught Joey's attention during a break in the action; just a nod and a quick "good game" before loading my chair into the Jeep and drove away.

Joey: I wish Paul coulda stayed. I still had some questions about getting prepped for school but he left before the game was over. I turned back to the game and decided that 11 to 0 wasn't enough, snagged a pass, sprinted 20 yards and blasted the keeper about 3 yards into the goal with a shot. Man, I hope he saw that!

Present Day

Me: Eight years had passed since that day at the park and to be honest, I'd forgotten about about much of the day. Two job changes, two moves and my professional life was looking up while my personal life was not. The wife had bad health before and it was getting worse. All the kids were gone and I had a huge townhouse with just two people and two dogs living in it. Work and the internet were my escapes, along with the occasional hookup with local college students.

Let me set the picture for you. I'm 48, still look pretty good but have long given up keeping hair, so I shave every other day. I grow a goatee every weekend and shave it every Monday, weigh about 215 but look 195 and run or bike when my knee allows it. Lately, I've taken to competing in extreme obstacle races; not to win but just to have a goal and sense of accomplishment, much like the satisfaction of seeing a cute college boy chow down on daddy's cock and swallow the load with a smile.

While I've had dozens of college studs over the years, none ever quite matched that first time. Not for the excitement, the unprecedented experience and the beauty and physicality of my partner. I guess in some way, I've been looking unsuccessfully for another similar experience.

The new position and location, and the wife's continued infirmity gave me a whole new "hunting" ground and I took advantage whenever prudent. Profiles on Lifeout, Manhunt and even a droid phone with Grindr just made it easier to make new acquaintances. Life was pretty good, for the most part.

Joey: Eight years had passed and man was it a whirlwind! Four years as a starter, All-ACC as a Freshman and every season including POY my senior season to go with a national championship and first team all American. Life couldn't be better right?

But I had a secret; I liked cock, in fact, I was addicted to cock.

That's complicated when you're as high profile as I am so I was uber discreet, uber careful, even paranoid when it came to hookups. The library was my favorite trolling ground, especially the lower levels with the private study rooms. So far, in 4 years, I was completely under the radar.

Post college, life got complicated. I blew my ACL during a MLS tryout and it rehabbed poorly. My business degree didn't stack up well against the flooded market of MBA's so I found myself playing lower level semi-pro after recovery and coaching youth soccer while living at home with my mom and her boyfriend. I was a statistic of the lousy economy and I hated it.

Personally, my sex life had dried up too. Back in my hometown, mindful of a local soccer player's horrible coming out experience, I was committed to staying under the radar and in the closet. What I needed was a good job and a new start somewhere else.

To be continued...