"No, it didn't. Raincheck, coach?"

You heave a sigh, and head to the locker room, the coach walking beside you. Once there you gather your stuff and get dressed, while a few other men walk into the room, doing the same. You watch the coach get dressed, wishing you'd had more time with the cock he tucks away, and then he passes you a piece of paper with his number on it. You smile at him, and promise to call, and then step out through the doors to the desk, where you hand in your key, and step out into the night.

All in all, not a terrible birthday, you think. You pull out your cell phone and call a cab, taking a second first to plug in the coach's number. Time to head home.