Varsity Players Ch. 03

Varsity Players Ch 03

A Bowl Game, Miami and a Surprise Announcement

This is an entirely fictional story. It is set at UPitt, but it could be anywhere. Some of the other places are made-up. Many comments asked for a follow up, so here it is -2 of 4 additional chapters. This story involves Pitt at the Orange Bowl and the Rose Bowl. UPitt, although a perennial bowl pick has not played at the Rose Bowl for decades and has never had an Orange Bowl invitation. However, I wanted to move the action to Miami and to California where Billy's parents live, so please forgive the author's license. All characters engaged in sexual activity are over 18. © 2024, All rights reserved. Brunosden

On December 26 in the morning, they were driving back to Pittsburgh to prepare for the game of the year. One more practice--indoors as the weather in Pittsburgh had turned foul and cold-wet.

All were looking forward to Miami as they boarded the non-stop flight the next day. The team was seated together, near the back, and the other passengers, realizing who they were, began to applaud as the giant guys trailed by, bending heads and walking sideways to fit in the narrow aisle. The seating was incredibly tight, but you know the airlines.... Later several flight attendants, one a young man, began to flirt with everyone, offering free drinks they knew couldn't be accepted. So each received a few little bottles "for later after you win the Bowl."

The Panthers checked into a non-descript travelers' hotel in Miami Gardens, not far from the field, but the team manager assured that the Pitt Alumni Athletic Advisory Council ("P, Triple A, C") was moving everyone the day after the game to a beachfront hotel just north of South Beach. No one wanted the SoBe distractions before the game. Rooms were assigned alphabetically, two to a room, but several exchanges were quickly made. There was a practice that afternoon--just to become familiar with the field conditions and an early training dinner that night. However, all were encouraged to attend the All-Fans Pep Rally on Lincoln Road that evening. (The famous Orange Bowl Parade no longer featured the college teams playing, but was devoted to "junior" football promotions and marching bands--mostly local high schools.) Lights out would be 11. No exceptions. And there would be a bed check. (Some couldn't wait for that ritual and kidded Billy and Tad that there were two beds in their room for a reason!)

The game started late afternoon, but the pundits and book-makers already had the Seminoles up by 14--they were, after all, one of the college teams that were paying semi-pro stipends to athletes, while "primitive" Pitt only provided scholarships, special dorms, tutoring and jock cafeteria privileges. Pitt had had a terrific year, but Florida was perennially rated near the top in NCAA statistics.

The day was of course sunny and warm. The crowd was loud, very large and very team-spirited. Surprisingly thousands of the fans were from Western Pennsylvania. One entire section behind the benches was dressed in Panther Royal Blue and Gold. Many faces had been painted in the two colors and hundreds of female fans were carrying stuffed blue and gold panther mascots. It seemed that a good part of Pittsburgh had left for the warmer weather of South Florida to watch "their boys".

Everyone was revved. And excited. And optimistic. Pitt was going to pull off the upset of the year. Billy was especially pumped. He had even refused to let Tad relieve his morning erection. "I'm gonna need all my testosterone for the game." His basket was going to be unusually big and full by mid-afternoon. He was going to be a beast on the field. And Tad was already anticipating a very exciting night after.

Pitt won the toss and elected to kick. And the Seminoles scored in a dozen downs on their first possession. Thanks to some spectacular running by Billy (and Scotty Peterson, an African American and another really good player), Pitt also scored on its first possession. The entire first half was a game of offense and by the end of the second quarter, the score was tied 21-21. Seminole defense had pretty much shut Tad's passing game me down, although he had passed short for one of the TDs.

The announcers were going wild with enthusiasm. It was going to be an exciting, high scoring game--not a Seminole blowout as many had expected.

Defense woke up by the third quarter, and at the end of the quarter it was Seminoles 34 (a TD and two field goals), Pitt 35. Tad had completed two crucial passes--including one 50 yard pass/run--both resulting in TDs. That of course, opened up the Seminole defense--they couldn't afford to have no players at safety positions again.

Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was the exhaustion that often follows hyper-active play. Midway through the fourth quarter, the Panthers were falling apart. Florida scored twice more, once with an unsuccessful two point conversion attempt and Pitt managed only two field goals. So with two minutes remaining, it was 47 to 41. Pitt took the kickoff and, even with a runback to their 40, were facing a very long march to the end zone. And of course Florida had the league-leading defensive squad. They knew Pitt needed to pass--so the winning strategy of threatening with Billy's runs and Tad's arm was not a realistic threat. Tad threw twice toward the sidelines. Both connected, and with a minute ten left Pitt was on Florida's 40.

It was time for a run to keep defense tight, but down the sidelines so a good runner can drop over and stop the clock. Tad tried a tricky lateral and a hand-off to Billy whose legs began to churn. He slipped by two defensive players, and only the safety was between him and the goal. Billy charged right at the guy--who was at least his size. It was going to be the ultimate crash. But, Billy realized a tackle on the field would end the game. So just before what would have been a monumental collision, Billy swiveled, went hard right and almost slipped by--but he was pushed out on the 9. One more set of downs--and 34 seconds on the clock. Pitt needed a TD, not a field goal. The stands were alive and on their feet. This was going to be a cliff-hanger.

At that distance, running would be safer, but a single misstep--a tackle-on-field would exhaust the clock and lose the game. Tad completed a short pass to the sideline and Marty Brown, the star end who stepped out on the 2. Pitt lined up quickly. Tad took the ball and handed it easily to Billy who launched himself over the defensive line--apparently landing in the end zone--but it was close enough that refs were involved--and instant replay to check his forward motion.

It was a touchdown. They were tied. Pitt needed the extra point. They lined up. The place kicker looked really nervous; everything was riding on his talented left foot. Billy approached him and whispered something. Pete smiled. The snap occurred. The ball was up and through the posts. Pitt had won. Against all odds. Billy was a hero--named MVP and clearly headed for the pros.

He was smiling from ear to ear as the offensive linemen dumped the special ice blue Gatorade over Coach Wilson. Billy ran up to Tad, threw arms around and squeezed. To most of the world it looked like a victory bro-hug. But they knew better, particularly when Billy jammed his rock hard dick into Tad's gut when he jumped up onto him. He whispered, "I can't wait to get in that ass, champ."

The team showered and changed at the stadium--which had professional quality lockers, individual showers and luxurious appointments. Billy and Tad had carefully chosen lockers and showers that were far apart, but Billy couldn't help himself. He was solidly erect the whole time. And the team teased him mercilessly, calling out where he was--so that team mates could presumably avoid getting screwed by the hyper-sexed hero of the day who was looking for any hole to stuff with his famous insatiable big fat dick. He was rigidly erect and prowling for a reward, and the team enjoyed joking about his condition.

The bus dropped the Panthers at W on the beach in Miami Beach. It was swank, designed for young cosmopolitan travelers and minimalist. The staff stood and applauded as they entered the lobby and showered all with blue and gold confetti. Tad's room was ocean front and high--and of course, there was a trade so Billy was there as well. Team mates, coaches and managers all pretty much assumed that the two were now a couple, but they were careful to follow protocol nevertheless. They walked into the room, dropped duffels and Billy immediately picked Tad up like a rag doll and threw him on one of the large beds. Before a word could even be spoken, Tad's jeans and Nikes were on the floor, and Billy was pulling down his own jock. As Billy quickly undressed, Tad pulled off his tee and Panther hoodie. He was nude and glistening in his excitement and ready. Then Tad flipped over on his belly and pushed a pillow under his gut--presenting for Billy's enjoyment. It was Tad's day to top, but how could he deny a guy who had won the bowl game--and abstained for nearly 24 hours. Billy carefully spread himself on top, "Are you sure? It's your turn, Tad."

"Yeah, consider it a New Year's present."

"I don't normally do presents for the New Year, but I'll make an exception. I'm loaded with enough to fill you to the fuckin' brink, boy." And then he changed. All day he had been fierce and brutal, the man, the aggressor. Now he was soft and loving. Big, talented warm hands begin to massage ass cheeks. Then he gently pulled them apart and Tad felt his tongue, first on the rim and then poking inside. This was all new. Billy had never eaten before. He curled and used his long fingers to pull the cheeks farther apart so his tongue could penetrate further. "You are so pink and soft and sweet. I sort like the taste of you, Tad." Then he backed off a bit and two well-lubed fingers were inserted. He touched the love bundle and poked a few times before scraping the palm of his finger tip along one entire side. Tad whistled in pleasure and wiggled his ass. Then he felt the moist tip of the glans. Billy was really leaking and really hard. Tad pushed up into him and his tip popped in. His motor was already running. He thrust a few times hard and fast and Tad felt his pubes, soft and silky. He had already bottomed. Tad was happy--and incredibly full. Billy was at his peak, hard, hot and dripping. Pulsing inside with impatience. "Guess what, Tad. I think I'm in for an extra point. I can feel it already."

Billy began to pump and with each pump, Tad pushed back into his gut as he bottomed. Billy reached around and cupped Tad's hardened pecs and with a thumb and index finger, began to squeeze the nipples. Fuck, Tad loved that. He moaned. Then he groaned. Then he squeezed anal muscles around the invading dick as it continued the relentless in-out slide. Tad felt the first spasm. Billy's thighs went tense and his gut pulled in. He was ready to fire. And then he blasted. Enormous hot spurts hit deep inside and the newly spunk-lubed prostate was crowded as Billy's cock expanded in release. Tad was over the top. He shot, and when Billy quickly brought a fist to the shaft, Tad shot again. And again. They had been doing this for over a year, but every time was new and exciting. Tad was full of Billy, but paradoxically, Tad owned Billy.

(Later, Tad asked Billy what had been whispered to the place kicker. "Oh, I know he's a virgin who wants to lose his V-card in Miami. So I just told him I'd be his wing man tomorrow at one of the clubs and promised he'd get laid by a SoBe football-groupie babe if I had to personally deliver her to his bed. But first, he had to make the kick.")

Billy and Tad spent most of the next few days in bed although they took a few hours each day to walk on the sand and absorb the sun. Tad even suspended the four times a day rule when Billy seemed to be perpetually hard and ready to shoot. Tad couldn't deny him anything.

They did manage to get out to a couple of the dance clubs, but were careful to choose open (i.e. hetero-homo) metro-sexual clubs. Even so, there were limits to what they were willing to display in public. Both danced regularly with groupies. Billy of course teased a few and could have taken his pick back to the hotel. But he was careful and coy, pleading a special friend back home. Billy now had a solid chance at playing pro ball. He needed to be careful and not destroy his future. A dozen or more pro players had by that time come out of the closet, but they were not the stars, and it was clear that a few of them were having a difficult time, being traded often as contracts expired. The game of gays in pro-football had progressed down the field, but no real touchdowns yet.

*******

Before long, they were back home--to the grey skies and cold temperatures of the Northeast. Woody had surprised them with a new king-sized bed and an invitation to "an afternoon of entertainment". Tad guessed that Woody was going to propose something more--perhaps a live porn performance or even a three or four way. He'd have to consider that carefully--and he definitely wanted to discuss the prospects with Billy before they were asked.

The guys dropped back into routine domestic habits, and Billy seemed really to be trying academically. But there was something new: they were inundated with interview requests and offers by agents to "handle" the two stars--to lead them through the next year (maybe making a bit of cash within NCAA guidelines), the draft and professional careers. They were celebrities. Boxes of swag were stacked on the porch every day when they returned from class. Cell phone paparazzi were a perpetual risk. Fortunately, the football hierarchy at Pitt was not a stranger to such overtures--and they helped the boys to deal with the publicity and choose an agent. Not unexpectedly, they decided to go with the same guy--a Pittsburgh lawyer who had many clients on the Steelers. They were taken to dinner a few times on a "get to know you basis." And Marty had been a good host--and it turned out an accurate reader of body language.

After the second dinner, Martin Bonder, the very clever player agent and attorney, asked the million dollar question. "Are you guys more than just room mates and friends?" There was a pregnant pause. They hadn't expected such perspicacity and such a question so early in the process, but here it was. Tad looked at Billy, and he nodded back. "Yeah. We are together. I suppose that means you would rather we found another agent?"

"Oh, not at all. You'd be surprised how often this issue now arises. I don't judge. I just try to advise on the likely consequences." He then proceeded to repeat all the cautionary statements that had been heard before. "I'd keep if quiet, if possible, for some time yet. You've got another year of college ball, and no one knows what might happen in a year. But, if next year goes well, and you both decide to go the pro route, I think you should be pro-active and go public, after the end of the college season and well before the draft. You don't want any surprises after the draft--some clubs are really still pretty conservative about these issues, but I can identify those for you if you wish. The Steelers are not one of them. If you go public, the opening offers may be smaller and shorter than your field performance might suggest. But, there are teams that are accepting. And gay followers of pro ball are a growing force. Let's just see how things develop. The chances that both of you would go to the same franchise are just about zero. Have you considered that?"

"I'm okay with staying quiet. In fact, my Dad, my family, do not know. I don't think they even suspect. I'm going to need time to work that out before I start thinking about the pro-angle. But, I can tell you this. We are in this for the long term. This is love. So any thoughts of the future must build on that premise." He looked deeply into Tad's eyes. His were liquid. How could anyone not love this guy?

Tad was floored that Billy had thought all of this out. And he loved him for it. They'd make it. And so Tad added, "I've been thinking a lot about this. This is the right time. I don't think I'm going to play pro ball. I love playing with the guys at Pitt, but I don't think it's a full life for me. I'm going to have a good degree in finance and entrepreneurship. I'm going to have some recognition for at least a few years. Somehow, I think that a bank or an investment group might like a college football hero trainee. So, I could go wherever Billy decides to play. And maybe manage his millions. We can talk more, but I'm pretty sure that this is my final decision. Billy can be the first round draft pick from Pitt. And we can keep our situation quiet for some time. I'm even willing to try for a few years into a pro contract."

Then he whispered into Billy's ear. "And I'm topping tonight boy, even though it is a Billy-top day. Your fuckin' swivel ass is mine, bro. You owe me.I'm gonna fuck you into tomorrow."

Second semester classes had just begun; there were no practices scheduled--although the coaching staff demanded that players choose three periods of several hours per week for supervised workouts. Nobody wanted a winning team to "go to pot" over the long winter months. Thus, the last dinner with Marty had included cocktails and several glasses of wine--the last they would see for awhile. Billy was not a good drinker, and he was feeling no pain when Tad guided him into their apartment and bed. But alcohol had no impact on his libido. Remembering Tad's last comment, Billy dutifully stripped and dropped into the bed on his belly.

But Tad had something else in mind. He rolled Billy over and pushed his powerful legs up into a wide aerial vee. "Grab behind those knees, Billy, and show me how high you can pull them, how much you can roll back. That trophy ass is about to get its reward. I'm going to blast it hard." Being the good sub that he was, Billy did as we was told, pulling the legs up and far apart, widening his cleft and exposing his pink-beige opening to Tad's admiring eyes and watering mouth. Tad grabbed the lube, warmed it and began to open Billy. He touched the nut a few times and of course Billy began to leak down onto his abs. His hood drew back, exposing once again the silky Christmas red of his head. Tad bent down and took it in all in at a gulp. He loved the taste of Billy's pre-cum and the musky odor of his crotch. He breathed deeply as he sucked wildly. Billy in turn was squirming around on the sheet, using his pro-quality thighs to lift up into Tad's warm mouth.

Tad could tell that Billy was ready. (Of course, Billy was almost always ready, so it didn't take much.) He positioned and slid in, bottoming on the first thrust. Billy dropped his calves to Tad's muscular shoulders. Then his eyes rolled back. He was such a sensuous animal. He enjoyed fucking and getting fucked more than anything in the world--and Tad owned him.

Tad assumed a push up position, resting his hips on Billy's ass cheeks, stretching his legs out hard and long, compressing Billy into a tight jack knife--the total sub--and he began the exercise. Billy's muscles massaged as he thrust; and Tad's shaft scraped Billy's prostate incessantly with each downstroke. Billy was about to orgasm. Tad thought to forestall, but decided not to. He was going to blast hard and allow Billy to feel and respond. Maybe he was up for two that night. A few more quick long dives and Tad released. He could feel Billy's muscles tense over his entire body. He was having the anal orgasm of anal orgasms. His body was exploding with pleasure. He was smiling ear to ear throughout. He unloaded huge quantities of musky, creamy spunk on their chests. And mirabile dictu he was still hard as a rock when Tad pulled out! There was going to be a flip.