Things could be worse

Part II: An honest mistake

Everyone paraded onto the field to start warming up as though they hadn’t just seen me stripped down to my jockstrap. I stood behind in disbelief that I was really so close to nudity out in the open. I was only snapped back into reality when I felt Russel playfully slap my ass as he ran by. “Hop to it Aaron!”

I gingerly made my way onto the center of the field, weary of how much bouncing my bulge and ass were doing. Everything I did, I did in a small manner, trying my best not to draw attention to myself.

But in the midst of the chaos that was brewing in my mind, I forgot the role that I played. “Alright, Aaron, warm us up!” Zane said as I stood at the back of the pack.

“What?”

“You warm us up before all the games.” I had completely forgotten that I led a quick stretch and series of warm up drills to get the guys ready for the game. I was a trainer for the football team for two seasons so I knew how to help the guys avoid getting hurt. It was actually fun doing this in past years, but this time it meant that they would all stand in a mob behind me as I led them through my warmup process.

I made my way to the front of the pack and steeled my nerves. Normally I would stand with my back to the guys while I stretched them, but I didn’t want anyone getting a glimpse of my hole again, so I faced them instead. At least my cock had some level of coverage “Alright, arms up.” I started. “Reach up and over.” I leaned my torso to the right, extending my left arm over my head and keeping the other hand low. As I did so, the bottom of my tank top crept up, revealing my V-line and a portion of my stomach. As a guy, my torso has never been something that made me feel naked. I took my shirt off at the pool, at the gym, and at parties I would sometimes unbutton my shirt all the way down to feel frisky. But on that field, any extra inch of skin was an inch closer to complete exposure. What the guys saw as my abdomen crept into the light was more naked skin. The hip I leaned away from had only a thick, white spandex band wrapped around it.

I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the breeze that tickled my side and continued with the stretching. Up and over to left, cross one arm in front of the other. All the good stuff. But I knew eventually I wouldn’t be able to stand still. “Take it out into a lunge!” I said with a knot in my throat. I faced the boys sideways so that when I lunged I could cover my bulge with my thigh. But my ass cheeks were now contorted by the position. I became exceptionally aware then of how my body moved as I instructed the guys to switch into various positions. I avoided the more compromising ones like toe touches. And for that reason I had been grateful that I was at least leading. Once I was content with my half-assed stretches, skipping over half the regiment, I started to walk away, but several of the guys burst out.

“What about the splits?”

I thought they hated doing the splits. “Oh no it’s fine.” I said trying to sound as confident as possible “No need to strain our legs.”

“Nah man they always make thighs feel less tight. We do them before every game.” I looked around quickly. Russels team was across the field doing jumping jacks and there was nobody else around. I was facing the guys, so there would be nobody around to see me as I slid down into my middle split. I snatched the opportunity and tried to get it over as fast as possible.

I was pretty flexible so my dangling package hovered maybe 5 inches off the ground. As I slid my feet apart I felt my ass cheeks opening wider. At the lowest point there was no doubt that my entire pink hole was out and being kissed by the wind. Right as I settled in to hold my splits I heard something from behind. As it approached I realized it was shuffling feet on gravel.

The running trail.

This field sat squat in the middle of a recreational community park. Packed with a dog park, pool, multipurpose fields, and a running trail. Five guys in their mid twenties emerged from a tree covered part of the path and onto the stretch that ran parallel to our field. I looked between my legs and past my round bulge at them as the crossed behind me. They all looked our way casually, but then whipped their heads back in my direction as they spotted my pale ass. They slowed their paces in unison, likely baffled at the sight of a guys spread open ass on a football field. I collapsed out of my splits and stood myself up. Russel blew his whistle from across the field, so it was time play. I tried to forget about the guys and move on.

Zane assigned me as wide receiver. I didn’t know much about football, but I was nimble and fast. They trusted me with an important position and in years past it had paid off.

We got set up for the play and I stood behind a wall of linemen. By then I was somewhat used to the feeling of the exposure. Numb to the humiliation as the minutes dragged on. My focus shifted instead to the display of asses in front of me. If there was one upside to the situation, it was the view that I got. Our team’s linemen were the beefiest guys. Bulging calfs trailed up towards large, round thighs and plump asses. I always thought it was unfair how these straight guys had such perfectly round cheeks. And in nothing but their underwear, I was able to see them in much greater detail than ever before. I was fixated on one of the guy’s ball bulges when the game began. I nearly screwed up the play because I was so distracted and had to reel my mind back in.

For a fleeting moment I was able to forget about my predicament. I weaved through Russel’s fully clothed team. Dodging their tackles as they hurled themselves at me. It looked like I was in position to score a touchdown. Maybe having less fabric weighing me down made me more aerodynamic. The end zone was within view, and the adrenaline let me forget that my ass was contained only by two straps and bouncing in full view of everybody. I was nearly successful until Russel rammed into me.

We flew through the air, and in an attempt to get a good grip, he snagged one of the arm holes of my tank top. As we crashed into the ground with our bodies intertwined I heard an unmistakable tearing noise. My body settled and I felt my chest began to itch like it was touching grass. That’s when I looked up and saw my torn shirt in Russel’s hand. He stood up and his straight brown hair fell back into place. I don’t think he noticed what he had done until he saw me laying there. But once he did, there was no mistaking the look of satisfaction on his face. He gripped the shirt in both of his hands and tore away at the remaining seams. Playing it off like a fit of testosterone filled glee, but I knew what he was doing. His cruel joke of forcing me to strip into a jock strap was bad enough, but now he had turned the honest mistake of ripping my shirt open and turned it into an opportunity to further my humiliation. He stood there, looking down on me, dressed head to toe, as I laid on the ground in nothing but a jock.

I stood up and covered my bulge. Even though it had been out for while, I felt utterly naked with my torso bare. A thin patch of fabric and a white waistband were all that guarded my body from total nudity. Russel waved my shirt around like a trophy and his team cheered.

I sped over to the pile of shorts that my team had left behind only to find that it was gone. And judging by the giggles I heard, I seemed to be the only one who didn’t know the pile was gone. All of my best friends stared at me as I stood dumbfounded in a sweaty jockstrap. Zane must have read the look on my face, because he jogged over and placed his arm around my shoulder. “Hey man don’t sweat it.”

“I want to go home.” I said in a firm tone.

“Come on, bro. We’re practically brothers here. No one is gonna care that you’re out here like this. We gotta win this game and we need you to do that.” He could see that I wasn’t budging. “Look man I’m you’re ride. So you’re either walking home or you’re helping us win this.” He stomped away without any further room for argument. And he was right. I didn’t even know where the shorts were, so it wasn’t likely I could steal his keys and sneak home. I was stuck. But as he turned, his eyes seemed to linger. He scanned my entire body subtly, and when he looked back up at my face, he had to try and hide a grin.

The five joggers passed by again. This time more vocal than before as they ran along the gravel path. Both of the teams on the field as well as the joggers were staring at me sitting near the end zone with my hands over my crotch in nothing but my jockstrap. My demeanor only made me feel more pathetic and exposed. Zane motioned me to rejoin and I obliged. The sooner the game continued the sooner this would be over.

And I needed it to end.