Page 5 of Jockstraps & Newspapers

Chapter five

Going directly to the field

Elliot

E lliot woke to the dulcet screaming of his phone.

Slapping it didn't do anything but force him out of bed.

Once he'd addressed the shrill, mechanical tone, he stared at the four walls around him.

Groggy and half-awake, he stumbled hoof over tail toward his bathroom.

He'd showered last night, but he'd slept so hard he felt like he needed another. Opting to scrub his fluffy face instead, Elliot felt refreshed after a splash of cold water. His nose was usually damp, but when he woke in the mornings it often had dried out. He applied balm to his nose and around the base of his horns. Scrubbing his teeth, he then sprayed deodorant onto all his pits. Arm pits, knee pits, crotch pits; all pits sweat and get gross the same. After a solid brush of the rat’s nest on his head, he gave himself a nod.

A fine looking minotaur, if he did say so himself.

He ducked back into his room and worked his body into fresh clothes.

Morning wood was his worst enemy because nothing went over it till he could get it to calm down.

Minotaur problems. He chuckled to himself as he found himself stroking his cock tenderly.

At first, it had just been to ease the blood flow.

No reason to get hot and heavy, he was about to get a light breakfast in and jog to the field for warm up.

However, as he wrapped his fingers around himself, he couldn't help but groan.

It's…it's been a hot minute. Hard to take care of business when it's go-go-go twenty-four-seven.

A quick one, it's fine. Just to clear his mind.

He sank back onto his bed, head lolled back as he stroked his heavy shaft slowly.

His balls were already tingling. Hooves scraping against the floor, he was inches from a sweet release…

and then he saw her face. Saw her caught in his arms, the feel of her body clutched against his.

If only for a second, he saw her dipped before him.

Elliot didn't even have the time to shake away the image.

His imagination lingered on the clench of her thighs in that tight pencil skirt and he came with gusto.

Fuck, it's been too long. Embarrassment burned through him like wildfire in a forest. Cassie didn't deserve to be disrespected like that.

She'd neither offered nor flirted with him.

And yet, his dirty mind put her in his thoughts.

It was just…one orgasm. He swallowed the heavy lump of embarrassment in his throat.

"Not like I…specifically rubbed it out to her? Right?"

His question went unanswered as he glanced down to the sea of cum between his hooves.

Right, you never do learn, do ya? He grumbled to himself as he got up to find the mop and a towel.

Elliot felt dirtier for having orgasmed to just the memory of her thighs.

But they're pretty thighs. It was back and forth.

He was fine, it was just a fantasy, nothing to be done.

They happen. But it wasn't fine. He'd violated some code between them, she wasn't even interested. If she ever knew, she'd be horrified.

Elliot chalked it up to exhausted cock brain.

The first sexy thing popped into his head while he was touching himself, that's all.

She was sexy, no doubt about it. He'd already combated with himself over keeping professional and he'd do his best. Just don't do it again.

Fantasizing about a person led to tangled emotions.

Tangled emotions led to pinning and unrequited affections.

Which all would end in heartbreak. Honestly, he knew better.

And yet, as he got dressed the thought floated in his brain. Will she be there today?

He got himself in a pair of mesh shorts and sweatpants to go over, his wrist cuffs, a mesh tank, and his bag for the field.

Elliot smashed back a pre-work out shake he'd made in advance.

Stepping out of his townhouse, he met Toad at the front steps.

Toad was already stretching. "Getting lazy on me, are ya, Cap? "

Elliot chuckled, "No, just took a minute for the juices to get flowing."

Toad didn't need to know. Bros tell bros a lot of things…

but that stuff was too much information.

Toad and Elliot stretched their calves and hamstrings, their arms and shoulders, and all the tiny bits in between.

Then, hoof to claw, they jogged toward the pitch.

Arms pumping, heads up; the cool spring air was delightful.

Sunshine had breached the horizon. Elliot basked in it.

The two teammates spread their arms wide, running like children toward the pitch.

Soon, a gentle jog turned into a race and they were beating the ground with their stampeding feet.

Toad was always faster, getting his knees into the gate a mere breath before Elliot.

A long green tail twitched behind Toad with satisfaction as the Dragos flashed a toothy grin at Elliot. "Gotta be faster than that, Cap."

"And this is why you always play chasing formations!" Elliot panted, hands on his hips.

"Like you're not a flying bull in the wind, Elle." Toad nudged him, "I've seen you book it before."

"And yet, you always win." Elliot shoved him affectionately, rubbing his sweaty palms on Toad's shimmering scales.

"You just don't want to admit you let me," Toad rolled his eyes before heading for the locker rooms. Elliot let him think what he wanted to think.

The truth was that Toad was a mean, green, charging machine, and there were very few who could outrun him.

Like a lightning bolt, Toad went from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye.

Elliot was fast but he wasn't that fucking fast .

He swallowed down air, cooling his heart rate as he leisurely strolled toward the locker room.

"Bonesaw, morning!"

Good vibes gone. Elliot whirled on his hooves to find Stevie McMatterson jogging down the track toward the minotaur.

Great. Elliot felt his skin crawl and fur stand on edge as the human strode up to him.

In black sweats and his chestnut hair slicked back, the owner's son was always pretty but slimy.

Marvin McMatterson owned the field, the arena, and the league.

The SportsBall League was created a long, long time ago, and had been in the McMatterson's possession the whole time.

Someone had to sponsor and fund the entire game.

Marvin wasn't a slimeball. He was like every other rich investment broker Elliot had ever met: boring, dry, and too rich for sense.

But Stevie? Oh, Stevie was a whole other can of worms.

"McMatterson, morning," Elliot faked a smile as bright as he could.

Stevie slapped him hard on the bicep. Learned our lesson, have we?

Elliot remembered the last time Stevie slapped his ass unprompted.

Stevie went to the healers that night and Elliot had been afraid he'd lost his job for a long seventy-two hours.

But Marvin McMatterson loved Elliot; second to Mr. Pearson, he was Elliot's biggest fan.

Stevie also didn't have any scars from getting all his teeth knocked out.

Since then, it seemed Stevie learned to keep his hands mostly to himself.

I can forgive him for the bicep. Stevie grinned slimy ear to ear.

"How’s practice going? Dad and I are swinging by today to see some of the practice while we plan the event part of the arena this season. "

Great. "Great!" Elliot laughed, nodding. "Sounds like fun."

"Oh, we're gonna make your last season a blast, buddy.

Just you wait." Stevie charged on, leaving Elliot frozen in disgust. Oh great.

The worst part of SportsBall was the gross amount of money that went into funding it.

He wasn't going to complain, it made sure his teammates had food to put on the table and roofs over their heads…

but if he had a choice, he'd do it without Stevie McMatterson.

Elliot shivered, shaking the gross experience off and ducked into the locker rooms. Toad was already dressed and taking steady gulps of water. When Elliot tossed his bag into the locker, Toad sighed, "So, that was Stevie's dumb voice I heard outside."

"They're here to plan the events this season."

"Great!" Toad rolled his eyes.

All the players on the team knew about Stevie.

He was handsy. He was slimy. And he was rude.

Stevie McMatterson saw everyone on the field as a toy for him to play with because his dad paid their bills.

They weren't people to him; they were chunks of meat he could talk to anyway he wanted.

And he could…because daddy paid for the lights of the arena and for the uniforms on their backs.

Elliot shivered again. Thankfully, he'd learned his lesson with Elliot and the butt slaps had stopped.

The minotaur cranked on some jams while the two prepped the locker room for the team.

Within the hour, their players trickled in and began to get themselves stretched and dressed.

Elliot forgot all about Stevie as the ruckus of the team filled the locker room.

The merriment began and all the icky feelings went away.

It was just him and his team. Elbow to elbow, fluff to scales, they shoved and played as the team got ready for practice.

And when the alarm went off, they jogged in a line out of the lockers toward the track.

Elliot was bicep to bicep with Toad when he saw Stevie, Martin, Coach Renner, and Tens at the side, talking.

They all waved at him and he waved back.

"Gonna just go ahead and get into warm up, Coach, if that's okay? "

"Absolutely, Bonesaw, get these lazy bones up!" Coach cheered.