League of His Own Ch. 11

Our first match of the Finals Series went just about as perfect as you could imagine. From the moment we received the ball at kick-off, all our plans were put into motion and the opposition just didn't seem capable of stopping our attack, and our defensive line was near impregnable. We kept the opposition scoreless in the first half while we put on eighteen points from three converted tries. Heading into the sheds at half-time, we were confident but not arrogant. We knew the opposition would come out in the second half after a rocket from their coach.

The second half was a tight affair, each side scoring a try which was converted, but we never really gave the opposition a sniff at making a comeback. Playing in front of our home fans, their cheers and support increased in volume with each passing minute as they knew we were going straight to the Preliminary Final. When the full-time whistle blew, I think every player and member of staff had a stupid grin on their face. The plan had worked perfectly, and we now had time to prepare for the penultimate game of the season.

Turning up at training on Monday, the entire squad was eager for the next two weeks to pass as quickly as possible. We'd had tremendous momentum heading into the Finals Series, winning ten games on the bounce, and our performance on Friday night gave us even more confidence. Everything going well in my professional life echoed into my private. My family and lovers all knew how happy I was, and when I wasn't training or keeping fit, my lovers were eager to get me into bed, and I spent a lot of time with my kids as well.

Two nights before the big game, I was in bed with my mother. After we'd enjoyed making love in the usual position (missionary), I was lying back as I watched her happily ride my cock with a big smile on her face. Now in her early fifties, she still hadn't been affected by menopause too much and she was still as horny as ever. She'd told me more than once that even when it started she'd always be up for sex with her son.

"Don't you just love watching them together?" Kim asked softly, "How can this be considered wrong by anyone?"

"You've watched me and Mum often enough," Wendy replied.

"Yeah, but you're a total lesbian for your mother," Rebecca stated.

Wendy snorted. "Please, Rebecca. Like you haven't gotten used to licking pussy and having girls go down on you..."

"Well, we know Kyla and Aimee are enjoying some sapphic love right now," Kim said, "Wasn't sure if I wanted to watch them or Danny with his mother."

"Definitely watch us, sweetie," Mum moaned, her hands resting on my chest, "I love sharing the experience with my son's lovers and sisters."

Wendy snorted again. "You just love all the orgasms you have with his big cock inside you and then we're all gagging to be fucked afterwards."

"Oh, baby," Mum moaned, feeling her pussy start to clench, "I'm having another one!"

Mum leaned down to kiss me as I moved my hands down to her arse, earning a grin as I started to really move at the same time. Mum moaned even louder and I felt her pussy grip my cock like a vice as the orgasm tore through her body. "Don't stop, baby," Mum cried, "Keep fucking Mummy."

"Definitely shouldn't be illegal," Kim whispered, "How many sons would love to do this with the woman they love above all else except their wife?"

Mum enjoyed another orgasm before I had to finally release and filled her pussy with another load of cum. The girls giggled as I grunted and groaned, Mum kissing me deeply before I rolled her over, Mum spreading her legs as her fingers started to dig into my back as my cock remained solid.

"Fuck her, Danny!" Wendy cheered, "Make it so she's limping at breakfast in the morning."

Mum laughed out loud before kissing me. "Love my son's big dick," she cooed, "My pussy was just made for it."

We made love and fucked for another hour before I left another load inside my mother, feeling her legs wrap around me as she hated feeling me pull out too quickly. We made out for a few minutes before I felt the presence of three other women snuggle closer to us, Mum and I taking a moment to give each of them a kiss as well.

I usually had a spring in my step after a night like that, walking into training lighter on my feet and a smile on my face. Billy was at training nearly every day and would laugh, coming up to me and making a joke about my lifestyle. He never asked personal questions, he was just aware of my living situation with Kim, Wendy and Rebecca. He did ask what my mother and sisters thought as everyone knew that they still lived with me. I told him that they accepted the life I was living and that everyone was happy with how things were going. If not, we'd discuss the matter and decide what to do.

Our Preliminary Final would be against the Penrith Panthers. A side that had found us easy to beat until recent seasons. We'd played them twice during the regular season, beating them comfortably at our home stadium and eking out a close-fought win at their home ground. They would be meeting us at our home stadium again. The fans arrived expecting victory. There would be a small section of away fans, no doubt hoping to rediscover the form that had seen them win four Premierships in five years a few years back.

"This is it, boys," our coach stated in the sheds before we ran out onto the pitch, "Eighty minutes and we're in another Grand Final. You know you can beat that lot waiting for us on the field. We've done it twice this season. They no longer have a hoodoo over us. It's time to return the favour and put the Panthers in their place. Send them back west with their tails between their legs. All you need to do is stick to the plan like you did in the last game and you'll win."

Leading my teammates out on the field, the roar was near deafening as the crowd was as pumped as we were for the game. The warm-up had gone well. Our team was at full strength. We were confident of making the Grand Final again. All we had to do was follow the game plan. Maker fewer mistakes. Score more points. Sometimes it's that simple, right?

It was one of the toughest games I can remember outside of State of Origin. Neither side was willing to give an inch. I got smashed in a tackle more than once as I was the sort of halfback that had no problem running towards the opposition, putting my body on the line. Attacks didn't break down due to errors, they simply couldn't break the line. It was a defensive game from both sides, neither willing to give an inch.

At half-time, it was only two-nil to Rangers as I converted a penalty goal after around twenty-five minutes.

"You've done well, boys," the coach stated as we were all busy sucking down water and energy drinks, "You've kept them scoreless. Barely allowed them into our twenty metres. But there's another forty minutes to go. Keep it up. Stick to the plan. Watch their halves. And don't give their forward pack any momentum. Danny, anything to say?"

"All I'll do is echo your thoughts, coach. We're forty minutes away from a second consecutive Grand Final. This time, we're going all the way and we're going to win. I'm as confident as all of you are. But first, we need to beat those bastards in the sheds opposite. They're not as good. They're not as confident. And they're in our house. We haven't let anyone win in our house this season. I don't intend for that to change now."

We kicked off the second half and thirteen of us spent the first set of six putting the hurt on them. By the time they had to kick on the last tackle, they'd barely made thirty metres. Our fullback caught the ball and had made it to our forty-metre line by the time he was tackled. It was a good way to start and we built momentum from there over the next ten minutes. Ever so slowly, we kept them pinned back while we made more metres with each set of six.

The longer the half continued, the more pressure we built and the better our field position. We were camped out in their thirty-metre area when I noticed their fullback was up in the line to strengthen it. I almost smiled to myself as I had an idea, the type of play not often seen in the modern game. Taking the ball from the play the ball, I motioned to pass but put the ball onto my foot, a 'chip and chase' by kicking the ball a short distance behind the defensive line. I burst through two of their forwards and collected the ball, racing the twenty metres to place the ball between the posts.

The crowd went wild. My teammates were ecstatic. And I didn't miss that Penrith's heads dropped. The pressure was at boiling point. They'd been missing more tackles. Dropping more ball. Making more mistakes. This was not the invincible team of a few years ago. They were fallible and they knew it.

At the start of the next set of six, one of our forwards crashed through their defensive line immediately, freed his arms for an offload, and our right centre sprinted away. He was only tackled fifteen metres away from their tryline with most of the Panthers players racing back to get into position. I ensured the ball was put through hands from right to left, and our left winger crossed the line to score a try that effectively sealed the game. My conversion from the sidelines effectively ended the game as a contest as the Penrith players were out on their feet.

When the full-time whistle blew, we were exuberant. After shaking the hands of the opposition players, we spent time walking around the barriers to greet our supporters. Barely any of them left as they were seeing success that had never been seen before. Making one Grand Final was what most dreamed about. Make two in a row verged on a miracle.

I had more media commitments than usual after the game considering we were in another Grand Final. We didn't know who we would be playing just yet. I answered any questions regarding our possible opponent by stating that I was confident that we could beat either of them on the day. I wasn't arrogant about it, just confident. We had finished Minor Premiers for a reason and gone undefeated at home for the first time in the club's history.

The next week was spent training intensely while dealing with the media on a near-daily basis. The local area was now completely devoted to the Rangers. Every single shop was hanging the club colours, our emblem, and nearly everyone on the street was wearing a replica jersey. If the confidence of the players was high, the supporters were expectant. This was finally going to be our year. End decades of hurt by finally winning another Premiership.

My family was almost as excited as everyone else. I made sure they were all invited and would be sitting with the families and close friends of my teammates. Every night, I was treated to a night of wonderful sex with one or more of my lovers. Kim and Wendy rode me ragged one night. Aimee and Kyla did the same on another. Rebecca begged me to fuck her hard for hours. And Mum... I think the word to describe her would be proud. Simply proud of her son. I knew it had been a fantastic year for me from an individual standpoint. But I never forgot that rugby league was a team sport. I couldn't be successful without them.

The night before the Grand Final, I was snuggling with Kim and Kyla after they'd both taken the time to slowly ride my cock after they'd both enjoyed doing the same thing on my face. Having a threesome with the pair of them wasn't something usually done, Kim usually sharing me with Wendy, Kyla sharing me with her sister though Mum had started to join in on occasion as she loved watching me with Kyla, and Kyla adored watching me fuck our mother.

"You're going to win tomorrow," Kim whispered as her fingers caressed my chest, "Then we'll get married. And then you'll be picked for Australia and head over to Europe for the Kangaroo tour."

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" I asked.

"I know wives, girlfriends and family won't be invited. We'll just stay here and watch the games on television."

"As long as you're all sure that you don't want to come along to spend some time around Europe or something," I suggested, "We've only ever been around the Pacific."

Kyla kissed my cheek. "You're having six women together for your honeymoon when you marry Kim," she said, "Just fuck each of us nice and hard for a couple of weeks and we'll be satisfied while you're away."

"And there's always pussy available," Kim added with humour, "Granted, I usually only do that when I'm with you, but if you're away for a few weeks, your wives might have to take matters into their own hands and have fun together."

"Video," I stated, "Definitely send me video."

Kyla laughed. "Sapphic orgy and send it to him while he's away," she suggested.

The morning of the Grand Final saw me waking up early and preparing to leave rather quickly. I was full of nervous energy and excitement, Kim and Kyla eventually joined me in the shower, both of them ending on their knees as they slowly brought me to orgasm. Showering was completed before I escorted them both to my bedroom where I laid them down on the bed and got them both off with my mouth.

I was leaving early to join everyone else at the club before we'd take the bus to Homebush. Mum and the family would arrive far earlier than most of the crowds so they could take in all the atmosphere. After one last hug with each of them, all of them wishing me good luck, I made my way to the clubhouse where a bus would then take us to Homebush.

We arrived a couple of hours before kick-off, dumping our gear in the dressing room before we wandered out onto the field. A few fans were already dotted about the grandstands as we took time to take in the growing atmosphere. The Roosters players, as we were playing the Sydney Roosters, all arrived not long after us. We all shook hands and enjoyed a few moments of humour as it was their first Grand Final in a couple of years. Surprisingly, we were entering the game as slight favourites due to the fact we finished Minor Premiers and had breezed through the Finals Series.

After getting changed into our warm-up gear, we went through our paces, warming up muscles and going through last-minute preparations. It was a warm evening so we took in plenty of fluids at the same time. Fifteen or so minutes before kick-off, we returned to the sheds to get changed into our gear and listened to last-minute instructions from the coach.

There was an electric atmosphere outside. Thousands upon thousands of Rangers fans had filled the grandstands. In the sheds, there was a quiet confidence from my teammates, steel in their gaze as we came together one last time before we would line up.

"This is our time," I stated, "Last year was a preview. We know what to expect. And we know the Roosters. Beaten them already this season. We're better than them. We've proven all season that we're better than everyone. This is our time. This will be our day. Eighty more minutes, boys. We put everything on the line one last time. Let's go and win a Premiership."

We lined up to the right, the Roosters to our left. As we slowly walked out onto the field, the noise was deafening. Running out onto the field, we all went through our last-minute preparations before there were the usual pre-match ceremonies for every Grand Final. Welcome to Country before the national anthem.

Kicking off to start the game, the first ten to fifteen minutes were some of the most intense footy I've ever played. The Roosters were coming into the game on a run of fine form of their own, but while they were trying to be inventive, our defensive line remained strong and intact, forcing them to kick the ball at the end of each set from their own half of the field.

Our first try came near enough to twenty minutes, putting the ball through hands and finding half a gap, one of our second rowers freeing his hands to offload to our right centre. He burst through with only the opposing fullback ahead. I was one of many support players, our centre passing the ball to our five-eighth who placed the ball between the posts.

The roar of the crowd had most of us smiling. Rangers fans had bought more tickets than the Roosters by far. One entire grandstand was in our colours alone. Converting the try gave us a six-to-nil lead with another twenty minutes to go.

The next few minutes were spent consolidating our lead. It's not unusual for the opposing side to immediately hit back with points of their own. We made sure to not make that same mistake, and when we forced them to concede a penalty, I slotted that through the posts to increase our lead by two. And it remained at eight points to nil up until halftime.

During the ten-minute interval, our coach simply reiterated the game plan while adding detail to what he'd seen from the first forty minutes. He suggested that I start kicking a little earlier for field position and getting a forty-twenty. Our field position was usually good enough that it was possible that I'd do it more than once. It would then force the wingers to leave the defensive line earlier and that would help create space.

The opposition kicked off to start the second half. By the end of our set, we were almost at their tryline. A grubber kick forced them to put the ball out of play and a dropkick from their own line. For the next five minutes, we battered their line again and again until one of our props finally crashed over to score our second try of the game. After converting, it was now fourteen to nil.

"Don't get arrogant!" I shouted as I ran back after the conversion, "Stick to the plan. No mistakes. Keep up the pressure!"

The Roosters were doing all they could to work their way back into the game. Gaining their own forty-twenty had them camped on our tryline for the first time, and after they forced a couple of repeat sets, they finally scored their first try though against the sideline, and they didn't convert.

Fourteen points to four with twenty to go.

The match turned into a slogfest. Despite the aches and pains. The feelings of exhaustion from the intensity and the heat. The grind of nearly thirty matches of footy in a season. We knew that if we simply held on, we'd finally win the whole thing. We threw everything at them and they did the same to us in reply. During the last ten minutes, many of the players were out on their feet, particularly the forwards. That allowed gaps to open up and with six minutes to go, I had the joy of scoring a try in a Grand Final, placing the ball between the posts before I converted my own try.

Those were the final points of the game as the last few minutes passed with neither team able to exploit any opportunity. When the siren sounded and the referee blew his whistle, we were confirmed as champions.

I won't lie. There was an explosion of emotion from most of us. Years of hard graft and toil were finally rewarded. Teammates who had remained during the bad years nearly fell apart as all the hard work, the years of coming so close, was now finally worth it. I hugged just about anyone I could find. I still have no idea what I said when I was interviewed, knowing just enough not to curse on live television. Think I expressed my love for nearly everyone in the stadium, even the opposition!

The Roosters fans were invited up onto the stage first for their runners-up medal and their captain made a short speech. Then it was our turn, players and coaches taking their turn to receive their ring and shake hands with the assembled dignitaries before I was last up to receive a ring and then I had to make a speech.

It was difficult not to get emotional again as I thanked everyone. Coaches and staff. Players who currently played for us and those who had helped build the foundations. Friends and family. And then the fans. Half the time, it was their support that helped us lift in those moments when we were struggling. We played for professional pride, but we also wanted to perform for those fans who were there every week to support us.