Only time will tell

Part III: The final touchdown

I hated being there. I hated every moment that I was **** to endure the humiliation of being stuck in a public space with only my jockstrap the hide mere inches of skin. But the game went on despite my best efforts to remove myself from it.

I was exceptionally annoyed around noon. The sun blasted down on us oppressively. It was that mid-summer Texas heat that made it feel as though the entire world was being baked in the oven. Everyone’s shirts were drenched in sweat, clinging to their skin in spots of thicker muscle. I, on the other hand, was dripping with sweat in the most literal form. Sweat would trail down from my black hair, all the way down my spine, maneuvering over my back muscles, and finally cascading off and dripping into my ass crack. My body glistened in the sun like I was wearing body oil. And despite Russel’s initial argument for shorts and skins being that they didn’t want anyone being too slippery, nobody batted an eye even when their arms slipped clean off my sweaty stomach.

Lunch time came and went. A few of the guys had packed meals, and the rest drove over to fast food places nearby to pick something up. I envied them for being able to remove themselves from the heat and escape into their A/C filled cars. But I refused to go anywhere. I would have had to walk through the entire park to get to the distant parking lot (a bridge I wasn’t ready to cross just yet) and I hoped naively that maybe if I waited a few more hours the facilities would be less packed.

So instead of eating I just chugged water and sat behind a trashcan to minimize anyone’s view of me.

The game started back up about an hour after noon. I only had to survive a bit longer. Then I would finally be free to get my clothes and be done with this day. But I didn’t know that the worst had yet to come.

The game was close by the end of the afternoon. One team was always ahead, but only ever by a few points. Zane, I suppose, wanted to take advantage of my nimbleness as well as my slippery nature. So for the home stretch of the game I was put back into the wide receiver position.

“Whatever it takes to get this over with.” I said, making it no secret that I was not enjoying myself.

“That’s the spirit, Aaron!” Zane said, ignoring my tone. To pester me even further, he grabbed one of the elastic straps that hugged my ass and pulled it several inches away. It rebounded and smacked with a sting. “We should’ve made you cheerleader, you’ve got the right outfit for it.” Oh I wanted to hit him. I wanted so badly to make him regret the torment that he and Russel had been putting me through by slowly stripping me of my clothes, accidentally or otherwise. I pictured doing to him and Russel as they had done to me. I wanted to strip them down in front of an entire audience. I wanted their cocks to flop around as they begged for their clothes back. I wanted their hands and feet tied so that they would be completely helpless and exposed.

As I daydreamed about this ****, I squinted and saw Russel glaring at me with an iron focus as we set up for what would be the last play of the game. My team was a singular point behind, and we needed the touchdown to win. Russel’s staring confused me as much as it pissed me off even more. He was competitive, so I knew that he was probably staring me down to instill fear. But he also looked contemplative, like his mind was not totally made up about something. Whatever. I didn’t care. Nothing could be worse. At least the game would be over.

This time I wasn’t distracted by the linemen’s asses, though many of their boxers had become semi-transparent the more their sweat dampened them. It was too sweltering outside and I was too mentally exhausted from so many hours of public humiliation that I just focused on the play.

I wasn’t nearly as invested for this wide receiver play as I had been previously. I still put forth as much effort in as possible, mostly so that no one would have any excuse to say shit to me. Everything went well at first. And with a dead expression and not much enthusiasm I caught the football, which nearly slipped out of my greasy hands.

Maybe it was because I was slippery or maybe it was because the rest of the guys was utterly exhausted, but I had an easy time making my way down the field. Multiple guys tried wrapping their arms around my torso but found their efforts were in vein as they slid down my body. I wasn’t far from the end zone.

“Wow.” I thought. “I’m actually going to win this for my team.” I thought the glorious moment I had been waiting for all day had finally come. It was about to be over. The worst had happened and it was about to end. And then I felt the hands.

One foot was already in the end zone. I had made the touchdown, we had won, but yet I still felt a pair of hands grip on my jockstrap. I thought that they were trying their hardest in a last ditch effort to keep me from scoring. So while my body toppled over I didn’t think anything of it. The impact of my fall in combination with my empty stomach made my head go dizzy. I took a few seconds to recover and then turned over onto my back.

I was horrified at the sight of my flaccid cock flopping over onto my left thigh. My entire team was already dashing towards me like wolves, so I only saw a glimpse of someone bolting to the trash bin and throwing it away. Of course it was Russel. But I didn’t have time to be upset with him. Instead I tried to cover my cock with my hands, but before I was able to Zane and another teammate had lifted me up by my armpits.

They forcefully grabbed my wrists and held them high in the air to pose me victoriously. Had I been wearing any clothes this would have been an innocent gesture. I would have been filled with pride and happiness, taking in every moment and enjoying my fleeting time with old friends. But instead I was watching all of them run at me while my cock flopped up and down. This was everyone’s first time seeing me naked.

And because my luck had run dry that day, my own body had to make it that much more humiliating. My cock, as it bounced up and down, was slapping my stomach and spinning wildly around. The motion, mixed in with the slight rush of adrenaline from scoring the final touchdown made me get hard. I squirmed and tried to maneuver my legs so that they would cover me up, but there was too much going on.

“AARON FUCKING DID IT!” Zane roared. “HE WON OUR FINAL GAME WITH HIS FUCKING DICK OUT!” The boys all cheered out. Somehow calling attention to my cock made me blush even harder.

Russel swooped in and shockingly grabbed my entire package at the base so that he held my cock and balls in his large hand. He pulled unintentionally hard and I felt a slight twinge of pain down there. “THIS? THIS IS THE COCK THAT FINISHED IT ALL?” This caused another roar from the guys. “I THOUGHT IT’D BE BIGGER!” I hated that he said that. My cock wasn’t small by any means, verging on six inches. But someone calling your cock small never feels great. Especially when it’s being shaken around in front of almost twenty guys.

The next thing I knew I was being swept off of my feet and lifted high into the air. My friends all had me held over their heads like a crowd surfer, and my cock stuck straight up into the sky like a beacon. I couldn’t tell if there was anyone immediately around, there was too much commotion to tell. But of course, the fucking joggers showed up.

I heard them cheering, and after they noticed my boner high in the air, their cheering intensified and was followed by whistling. My friends lowered me down into their arms so that I was held sideways with my cock pointed straight out towards to the gravel path. One of the more attractive ones pulled his phone out and slyly snapped a picture, I could see his fingers pinching the screen as he zoomed in. Then Russel called out to them, “Can y’all get a picture of us?”

They happily obliged and made their way closer. At that distance they could probably see my individual pubic hairs. I knew this was a photo that everyone would have on their phone so I made it my mission to cover myself. I couldn't fathom the idea of a picture of me surrounded by my friends with a boner out in the world. But that’s exactly what happened. They set me down in front and held my arms up in the air by my wrists again. They were still jumping around, so the photo that ended up being sent around had my cock flat against my stomach.

I try not to look at that photo often. But every now and then someone new will receive it. They always make it a point to anonymously send me a zoomed in screenshot of the humiliating photo. I damned those joggers for having such new phones, you could see every detail even when zoomed. I looked exactly as miserable as I was, and you could tell that I was trying to free my arms. There is no escaping it. Until the day I die there will be a picture of me, standing with my hard-on in full view, glowing with sweat in harsh sunlight and surrounded by my childhood best friends.

Even after we left the field things dragged on as I rode home with Zane and Russel. They talked like I wasn’t sitting in the backseat with my asscheeks stuck to the leather seat. They even opened up the windows to “air out” our combined stench giving several lifted trucks and semis a good view of my body.

To this day I hate being seen naked because it reminds me of that day. Of the vicious humiliation. I’m only grateful that my cock looks huge in the picture. Something about the angle and the sweat made it look more impressive. If my public nudity photo was going to end up on hundreds of peoples phones and probably even porn sites, at least they can’t say I looked small.

Author’s note: The story on the field ends here, but I do have an idea of what might happen after the car ride. Do Zane and Russel take Aaron home, or do they take him some place else? If I get enough people asking I might just have to decide.