Matt plays a game ... he's a very naughty boy. :)

[DaveMate]

Hi, it's me JAG. I'm posting this story under a nom-de-plume. I don't know why.

Chapter One​

It wasn't because I was under-endowed or anything. I could hold my own in that department, of which I got plenty of practice. But I hated showering after rugby. Well ... we shouldn't say hate. That's an exaggeration. New Zealand is famous for it's natural beauty, but none of that scenery is more stunning than what I saw in an average post-game communal shower. What can anyone hate about that? Especially someone of my persuasion. By the way, in passing, my persuasion was still somewhat of a secret.

Yes, I was shy, especially about showing my ... you know .... my stuff. In fact, I tried not to shower after the game at all, if I could help it. A little bit of mud never did anyone any harm.

It was my first game for my new team. I came to the big city mainly because people said I should. They reckoned I had talent. I had to admit, scoring the winning try was no fluke. I knew exactly what I was doing.

Congratulations are different here. It was kind of weird being tapped on the bum as I walked off the field. Nothing like that ever happened with my old team. People just played for the fun of it, out in the country. There's no way a farmer's ever going to tap you on the arse. In the city, everything is more intense. A tap on the bum is considered the ultimate compliment to the big city boys, as long as there's nothing sexual in it, of course. Yes, I was pleased. I had played well. There was nothing more for me to do but to sit on the bench in the changing room, wallow in pride, take off my boots, and contemplate the showering arrangements.

"Nice game Jeff. Congratulations."

As I remained seated, slipping off my boots, I saw the outstretched hand, in my peripheral vision, out of the top of my eyes. I glanced up towards the guys midriff, and then further up to his face, and then back down to his abdomen. It was Gary Williamson, the team captain.

"Oh shit!" I wasn't sure whether I said that out loud or to myself. It was the fright of looking up and being confronted by Gary's flaccid junk, at eye level, just hanging there innocuously, inches away, that almost caused the most terrible of faux pas. Hanging there is a perfect turn of phrase. Boy did it hang. If there was ever a comparison to be made between Gary's cock and the trunk of an elephant, Gary would win every time.

I struggled to bring Gary's hand into focus. "Um .... Oh .... Hi." I didn't know where to look. In the end I turned my head to the side and upwards, my eyes directed at a blank, lifeless portion of the wall. It's not as though I didn't want to look. That is so far from the truth it isn't funny. If I had a wishlist, looking at Gary Williamson's junk without him noticing would be somewhere near winning the lottery in priority.

As I stood, I reached out my right hand and placed it in Gary's, as I was invited to do, and I felt his firm grip. My vision was still a little blurry and unfocused. I could have miscued and grabbed something else nearby, something altogether far more spongy and flexible than Gary's hand, by mistake. That may not have gone down too well. I was only twenty two. Far too young to die. Hardly a moment went by when some scantily clad, big bosomed female, was not at Gary's coattails. I couldn't imagine anyone more hetero.

"Thanks Gary ...," I said nervously.

No one should be surprised that I was so nervous. Gary can quite reasonably be described, in downunder speak, as a hunk. And didn't I know it? Even more so now, having seen him, and from a close-up perspective, as nature intended. At least I could turn my head forward now that we were both standing. Gary's junk didn't seem anywhere near as daunting from there.

"I was impressed," said Gary.

Briefly, I wondered what he was talking about. Impressed? If there's anyone that should be impressed it's me, I thought. I'd rarely seen junk so impressive, even if it wasn't for the want of trying.

"A player of your ability doesn't come around every day," Gary continued. "You're going to be a star I think Jeff. I'll tell you what. Pop into the showers with the lads. Get cleaned up. Then we'll drop into the clubrooms for a beer. You'll have the chicks eating out of the palm of your hand in no time. I'll introduce you to some of them, if you like."

"Chicks?," I asked.

"Haha, you country lads, you're all the same. Yea ... you know .... females ... women."

"Sure ... ah?," I replied, hesitantly. I had hardly managed to string two words together so far. I felt like saying 'Do I have to?', to both the shower and the chicks idea, but while deciding what to say, if anything, Gary had already patted me on the shoulder and began turning to leave.

"No need to be nervous. Our chicks are a friendly bunch. I'll catch you in the showers," Gary added, before completely turning his back.

'Catch me in the showers?' Whatever did he mean by that? Perhaps that's why I was so shy. Always thinking the worst.

I sat myself back down on the bench and slowly began to remove my socks. I was dawdling.

"You coming to the showers mate?," asked a naked, friendly teammate, on passing.

"Sure. In a minute," I replied, looking up and smiling, careful to avoid another eyeful of male genitalia. "Wouldn't the hot water have run out by now?"

"Nah ... it's never been a problem before. There's some hot tubs in there too."

Just brilliant, I thought. If anything should lead to an embarrassing erection, it will be a heap of soaped up guys writhing around naked in a hot tub.

I was lagging way behind. I was now the last person left in the changing room, and I was still completely clothed in my playing gear.

I pulled my soiled rugby jersey over my head and chucked it into my open bag on the floor beside me. Then I sat contemplating for a bit. There sure was a racket coming from the showers. I could make out a version of We are the Champions, but it bore little resemblance to the one sung by Freddie Mercury. Occasionally, a chorus of laughter drowned out the, less than tuneful, singing. I rummaged in my bag and pulled out my clothes, which were folded neatly inside a plastic bag. I didn't seem that dirty. A bit of mud on my knees perhaps, but nothing much else to write home about. The clothes would hide most of it anyway, I decided. And I've never been one to sweat much during the game.

I held my black dress pants aloft at the waist and gave them a shake, hoping to smooth out any creases. Then I laid them out carefully on the seat beside me. Remaining seated, I slid off my dirty rugby shorts and threw them on top of the already discarded jersey in my bag. Sitting there in my underpants was about as naked as I was willing to get today. I hardly knew any of these guys after all.

Just as I stood, preparing to re-clothe myself, I became aware of the sound of the cascading water in the shower area. Through the comparative silence came a shouting voice.

"Hey whizkid, Jeff mate. Get your arse over here into the showers. Come on man. Come and join in."

I instantly recognised the voice, if only for the addition of the word mate to the end of my name. It was that cheeky guy called Matt.

"Hurry up mate," Matt joked. "We don't bite. Are you scared we're going to fuck you in the arse or something man?"

"Yea, come on Jeff. Matt's just dying for a piece of your arse. He sure as hell doesn't get any action from any of the chicks," yelled someone else, to uproarious laughter. "Don't worry, it won't hurt, Matt's got a small one anyway."

How lame, I thought. For the first time I wondered whether some of these guys were complete tossers. I could put no more thought into it. There was only one way to get them off my back. I had to do it. I'm going to have to get in there with the others ... in the showers.

Today was going to be a big day. As it turned out, it was much bigger than I ever imagined.

 

[Drumlargan]

Great start, looking forward to the next chapter.

 

[Críostóir]

Can't wait for the next chapter!

JAG, darling, botox paralyzes muscles. When carefully injected into certain facial muscles, it makes wrinkles go away because the wrinkle muscles are paralyzed. Injecting a "gallon of botox" wouldn't make an ass bubblier. It would leave the person crippled or dead!

That was the only thing that really jarred me out of the story, and I got back into it fairly quickly. I'm hoping for a friendly gangbang in the shower in the next chapter!

 

[DaveMate]

I'm hoping for a friendly gangbang in the shower in the next chapter!

Yea ... I just thought of something ... I guess I should point out, because of the way the title of the story is worded, that anything that happens will be with the total approval and say-so of everyone concerned.

Thanks for the tip re the botox. Just shows how much attention I pay to cosmetics

 

[Críostóir]

Thanks for the tip re the botox. Just shows how much attention I pay to cosmetics

No problem. It actually speaks well for you that you're unaware of such abominations. I can't help hearing about them, placed as I am.

Collagen would work the way you describe (though for an ass...maybe not so pretty a result).

BoTox is short for Botulin Toxin. When people die of eating bad canned goods, that's the toxin that kills them.

 

[linkzy]

Nice! Can't wait to hear more! =]

 

[sexmadboy29]

great start look forward to more

 

[Autolycus]

There is no need for botox or anything else to boost your story telling talent! Nice to have a new story from you - promising start as ever

 

[DaveMate]

I've found that this story is easier to write from Jeff's perspective. So I redid Chapter One, which is reposted above, and the story will continue in that way.

In Chapter Two, we begin to find out a bit about how naughty Matt can be.

Chapter Two​

It was just as expected. I stood briefly at the doorway to the showers, assessing the layout. There were no petitions ... no curtains ... no privacy. Just one giant open bathroom, with a heap of shower nozzles spread down three of the walls, and a large tub in one corner. This is what rugby players expect out of their after match ablutions. You play the game, you get naked, you jump in the shower together, you laugh and you sing. It was steamy. I couldn't see much. Everyone was naked. I knew that, at least.

Suddenly, it seemed, I was the centre of attention. The talking became whispers. Guys turned their heads in my direction, and they squinted through the jets of water and streams of shampoo falling down their faces. Then their eyes followed me as I walked towards a vacant shower I had spotted at the very end of a side wall. I stood myself at the shower, facing the wall, and I placed my hand on the tap.

It was Gary Williamson who broke the ice. "Make sure you turn the tap right around Jeff. Otherwise the water won't be hot enough," he said.

As I opened the faucet and the shower sparked into life, I heard some laughter behind me, across the way. I ignored it at first. I held my arms out in front of me and felt the temperature of the water with my hands.

"Hey mate. What are you doing?"

I turned my head. I could sense my teammate's eyes, as if I was the headline act at a circus. The voice was Matt's.

"What? .... ah ... you talking to me?," I asked. "What do you mean?"

"What are you doing?," repeated Matt. "You've still got your undies on mate."

I was aghast. So was everyone else, it seemed. There was silence.

"Shut up Matt. It doesn't matter," said someone, attempting to smooth over an awkward moment.

"But why is he showering with his undies on?," Matt said incredulously. "That's just weird man."

"It's a good idea Matt. You can have a shower and clean your undies at the same time. It saves water," said a third teammate to laughter.

"He might get clean undies mate, but he'll have a dirty arse. How can you clean your arse while you're wearing undies?" said Matt.

"Matt, you just worry about your own arse," said someone else. "I'm sure Jeff doesn't need instructions from you. He looks quite capable of taking care of his arse. Since when did you become the arse police? Matt, turn around for a minute. Let us look at your arse. Is it clean? Who here wants to volunteer to check Matt's arse?"

If I was under the influence of alcohol or something, I am sure I would have put my hand up at this point. It sounded like a great job. As it was, I had my eyes closed, feeling the warm jets of water on my body, while listening, with some anxiety, to the conversation.

"Mate, it's just that I've never heard of anyone having a shower in their undies before," said Matt, resigned to the fact that everyone else appeared against him.

Gary chipped in. "I'll tell you what Matt. If ever you should become as good a player as Jeff, you can shower in your underpants too. Then I'll personally come and clean your arse for you."

That was a good comeback, I thought. I felt myself starting to relax. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the warm needles of water on my skin. I gently rubbed my face, then my chest and arms repeatedly, trying to forget my surroundings and the temptation of the nakedness around me. I was awoken from my shallow daydream by a voice.

"Hey mate," the voice said.

I opened my eyes. I could see no one. I looked to the side, and then over my shoulder. There was just one lonely, naked figure, standing under a shower, across the room. It was Matt.

"Hey mate," repeated Matt. "Do you mind if I come over there and use the shower next to you man? There's no one to talk to over on this side."

I didn't even have time to answer. Matt was soaking himself in the adjacent shower before I could open my mouth. "I was just about to finish up actually Matt," I said belatedly.

"Don't go mate. I want to talk you."

Matt stood side on to the wall to face me, as the water tumbled down upon him. "Where are you from?," he asked.

It seemed rude to look at his naked flesh from so close, but it seemed even ruder not to face him as he was talking. I turned my body. We stood face to face. I looked into his eyes as he spoke, very keen to at least glance down at his manhood, but I knew he was watching. The best I could do was enjoy the dark patch of pubic hair I could make out in my peripheral vision, down below.

"I'm from up north," I answered.

"Oh yeah? Me too. Whereabouts?"

"Oaksville, up by Masterton. You?," I asked.

"Really mate? Oaksville eh? I'm from Waitohe, just up the road from there."

"Oh ... cool. I know the place. Small world eh?"

"What does your old man do there then?," he asked.

"Farmer. My father milks cows. You?"

"Um ... me ... what mate?"

"Your father. What does he do?"

"Oh ... he's a wanker."

"A what?"

"My old man, he's a wanker. A wanker mate."

"A wanker?"

"Yeah, a professional wanker."

"A wanker? What do you mean, a wanker?"

"A wanker mate. You know ... a jerk."

"Oh ... I think I get the picture. How could your family afford to live off such a low wage?," I joked.

Matt laughed. "That was quite funny. So you're a bit of a comedian then? That'll go down well around here. What do you do then?"

"Computer programmer," I replied.

"Man ... a brainbox too. You're the complete package!"

"Well, I wouldn't say that," I said sheepishly.

"Brainy, sporty, funny ... good looking." Matt picked up a bottle of shampoo from a shelf braced to the wall. He squeezed some of the liquid onto one hand and applied it to his hair. "Shampoo?," he asked, offering it to me.

"No thanks. It's ok. I washed my hair this morning" I lied.

Naked with both hands lifted to his head. Matt was totally exposed. I had to admit he was beginning to grow on me. Looking into his eyes made me appreciate how handsome he actually was. They were eyes that seemed to be locked into a permanent smile. A sort of mischievous smile. His black hair was cropped short and he wore at least a couple of days growth of stubble over a smooth and shiny complexion.

We watched each other, eye to eye, as he lathered. Suddenly Matt's eyes took a dart downwards, then they paused briefly and shot back up.

"You're circumcised," he announced.

"Oh ... um ... shit .. what?," I stammered.

"Mate, those undies don't leave much to the imagination when they're wet. You may as well take them off. It's easier that way. No one's going to look."

"I'm not taking my underpants off Matt," I said, pretending to laugh.

"Why not?"

"I'm quite happy leaving them on thanks."

Matt continued to lather. I noticed he made two or three more glances downwards. Then for a few seconds he gazed ahead in thought.

"I'm not," he said.

"You're not what?," I asked.

"Circumcised. I'm not circumcised mate."

"Ah ... oh ... aren't you?"

"Nah mate. Can't you tell?"

'Oh shit!' I exclaimed, to myself. That was unexpected. Unless I was terribly mistaken, that sounded very much to me like an open invitation Matt had given me to examine his cock. In how much detail, I wasn't sure. Eagerly, I looked down to where I had noticed the dark bush of pubic hair earlier. Just as I did so, Matt's cock bounced as he made a step to one side. Then he stood under the falling water from his shower, in order to wash away the shampoo from his hair. His cock bounced again. So did his balls, suspended within his warm, low-hanging scrotum. A stream of soapy water cascaded down his front, over his tight, sexy abdomen, through his pubes, down the length of his uncut penis, making it appear shiny and slippery, and then over his ball sac and down his thighs.

Shit! I looked back up to Matt's waiting and smiling eyes. "You're not either," I said, trying not to sound as though what I had just done was anything out of the ordinary. "You're right, You're not circumcised."

I could feel it happening, almost immediately. It started with that pleasant feeling in my groin. And then the tightening, which became more and more intense with every second. My soaked briefs started pushing outwards. The beginnings of a bulge.

Matt's glances at the front of my underpants became more of a stare. Then I turned my back on him as the feelings intensified. I tried to secretly rearrange everything, straightening my dick upwards and sidewards, towards my hip, so it had more space in which to lengthen. I hoped beyond hope that Matt hadn't noticed.

"You're going to have to take them off now mate. Otherwise it will only make it worse. There's nothing worse than having a stiffy inside a small pair of wet undies, and you'll have bugger all chance of getting rid of it if you keep them on."

Of course, Matt was grinning. At least, I presumed he was. "Fuck," I said, out loud. I reached my arm out to the side, and turned off my shower. Then I cupped my hands over the front of my briefs and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?," asked Matt.

I stopped, and without turning to face him, I said "To get changed."

"But there's still guys in there."

"Shit. What shall I do then?," I asked, in a panic. It was plainly obvious now, that Matt knew what was happening.

"Turn around. Let me have a look. I'll see if anyone will notice anything," said Matt.

"No! I'm not showing you that," I said, incredulously.

"Do you think I've never seen another guys erection before? How do I know whether anyone will notice it if you won't show me mate?"

"You'll just have to take my word for it," I said. "They'll notice."

"What exactly is happening then? Describe it for me. Perhaps we can decide if the other guys will notice that way. Is it popping out the top of your briefs?," he asked.

I uncupped my hand and looked down. "Almost," I replied. "It's mainly to the side though."

"So it's poking out of the leg hole then?"

"Yeah ... a little ... just the top bit," I said.

"The top bit?"

"You know ... the head ... the glans ... oh shit ... this is ridiculous."

"How much of the head, exactly, is poking out then?," he asked.

"Probably about half. They'll definitely notice it."

"Can you try pushing it back up into your undies so that it's not poking out?," suggested Matt.

"Yea. I've tried that. It doesn't work. There's not enough material."

"Man. You must have a big one. How big is it?"

"Big enough. Shit, this is embarrassing," I mumbled.

"Try pushing it so that it's straight up in your undies, instead of to the side. How does that go?," he asked.

"No good," I said, after attempting Matt's suggestion. "It puts too much strain on lower down."

"You mean on your balls man?"

"Yea. Thats exactly what I mean."

"Oh ... well what happens if you make it so there is no strain on your balls?"

"About half of it pokes out the top."

"What do you mean mate? Half of the head or half of the whole thing?"

"Half of the whole thing. Oh shit!"

"I guess they would notice that," said Matt. "Next time, if you really insist on wearing your undies in the shower, you should think about boxers. Then your erection will have more room."

"Oh fuck. What shall I do?," I pleaded.

"Well, if it was me mate," he said, "I would take off my undies to relieve the pressure and then wait for it to disappear. From where I'm standing, it pretty much looks as though you're naked anyway. Those wet undies are sticking to your arse. I can see the outline quite clearly. So you might as well take them off. I'm sure that would help. Look, there's no one in here but us, and I certainly won't say anything. You've already seen my arse."

"No I haven't," I protested.

"Really mate?," he said. "We've been here all this time, and you haven't looked at my arse once?"

"No. I thought it would be rude to do that," I said.

"Well, would you like to look at it then? That way, you will be able to take off your undies, and we'll be even, because we would have seen each others arses."

"No, I don't want to do that, while I'm like this. I think it might make it worse." I said.

"How can it make it any worse than it already is mate?," Matt argued. "It's because your undies are wet, that's why it happened. You don't have to show me your cock if you don't want to. You've got your back to me anyway, so I'll only see your arse. I'll even close my eyes if you want. Either that, or as I said, I can show you my arse as well, so you won't be so embarrassed. I'm sure that if you stand there without those soaked undies on, your erection will be gone in no time."

"I wouldn't count on it. Matt, I'm not taking off my underpants, ok?" I said.

"Well ok then, if you're sure. Only trying to help. ...um ... I've got an idea ... wait there."

Matt left for the changing room and shortly after returned, with a towel around his waist, and a spare one for me.

"Thanks," I said. "Why didn't you just get me a towel in the first place?"

"I didn't think of it mate. I thought you'd be able to get rid of it by just taking your wet undies off. It wasn't until you said you weren't going to do it that I had to think of something else."

"Put the towel over there, on the rail, and then go back over there," I instructed.

"You're crazy man," he said. "There you are then. Your towel."

"Thanks," I said. Truly, I was thankful, that I had the sanctuary of a towel, at last. I took the towel from the rail, careful to keep my back facing Matt, and placed it around my waist.

"So where do you live then?," asked Matt, as he watched intently.

"An apartment, in town," I replied.

"You live in the city? Alone?"

"Yep. I do. Why?"

"How are you getting home then?," he asked.

"What's the time? There's a bus at four."

"Oh don't take the bus mate. Waste of money. The bus drivers are crazy around here. They're never on time. I'll take you home in my car. It'll be sweet."

 

[redbomb]

hope you add to this soon

 

[DaveMate]

hope you add to this soon

I'm hoping to.

 

[Craiger]

OK, JAG,

You didn't tell me you were going to go incognito in any new thread.........

I must be losing my touch. It just dawned on me that the new "DaveMate" might be my old friend from days gone by. Good to have you back and writing.

Now, let's talk about little brother Matt........ Doesn't sound as though he has changed one iota since he tried to put the make on DaveMate. Glad to have him and his antics back in service. I'm really excited that you're giving us another thrilling and exciting story. Jeff seems to be just the person to take on Matt. He's a little shy now, but after Matt gets through with him he'll be completely seasoned....lol

Craiger

 

[gaytxn09]

Great story!!

 

[DaveMate]

OK, JAG,

You didn't tell me you were going to go incognito in any new thread.........

I must be losing my touch. It just dawned on me that the new "DaveMate" might be my old friend from days gone by. Good to have you back and writing.

Craiger

Yep Craiger mate, it's double incognito.
Thanks guys.
Regarding the underpants ... that conversation in the last chapter between all the teammates was virtually word for word of a real conversation I heard when someone walked into the showers with their underpants on after a game. What that says about NZ and rugby players I don't know. Lol.

 

[Críostóir]

Regarding the underpants ... that conversation in the last chapter between all the teammates was virtually word for word of a real conversation I heard when someone walked into the showers with their underpants on after a game. What that says about NZ and rugby players I don't know. Lol.

I have the strong impression that rugby is a game for closeted guys. The game itself is macho, macho man territory, of course; this is so they can feel manly. And they're mostly interested in each other, not in women (they impress women when they can, but that's a way of competing with each other).

Or maybe it's just my fantasy that all these rugby guys are fucking behind the scenes. Certainly that documentary about the British rugby team implied that they were all getting sweaty off camera...and they even kissed ON camera.

Of course, that's UK, not NZ. NZ is if anything sexier.

 

[sheep]

This story is hilarious. More please

 

[DaveMate]

Just an update on Chapter 3 progress to anyone who may have been following this story, seeing as how it's over a week since Chapter 2. I've just read back the 4 pages of typed A4 that I have written so far for Chapter 3. I'm about two thirds of the way through. I have to say it's quite 'interesting' ....

 

[sheep]

Don't rush on my account. Tomorrow will be fine lol

 

[DaveMate]

Don't rush on my account. Tomorrow will be fine lol

As per your request.

 

[DaveMate]

Chapter Three
​

"Pour some of this down your throat," I said to Matt. I placed an opened can of beer on the coffee table in front of him. There weren't many other places to put it. Table and shelf space were in short supply, due to my apartment being not much bigger than a shoebox. This room alone acted as a lounge, dining and bed room. "I'll be back in a minute. I'm just going to go to the bathroom to change out of these wet underpants."

"Good move. They've probably been stretched beyond recognition after what happened in the shower. Never wear undies in the shower mate. Didn't your old lady ever teach you that?"

I laughed. "That's one thing my mother never taught me."

"Your erection has gone then, has it mate?"

"Did you have to bring that up again? Yea, it's gone."

"There's no need to go out of the room to change on my account then man. Why are you so embarrassed? We're both guys. We've both got a dick. We've both got an arse. You've already seen mine."

"I have not," I insisted. "I haven't seen your arse."

"Oh that's right. I forgot," laughed Matt. "You haven't seen my arse. Come on, I'm sure you must have had a peek."

"I need a leak anyway. Be back in a minute. Drink that beer. You don't want to waste a good brew"

"So what do you want to do then?," Matt shouted from his chair.

I had left the bathroom door slightly ajar. I threw my wet underpants into the laundry basket and stood at the toilet. "I don't know," I shouted back. "Put some music on. We'll have a few beers. How does that sound?"

"Duran Duran? Her name is Rio and she dances on the sand ...," he mocked. He was obviously looking through my music collection. "How about a game of something mate? Do you have any?"

I stepped into a clean, dry pair of underpants, pulled up my trousers and looked at my reflection in the mirror. I hoped I looked ok. My hair was still damp from the shower. I combed it, but it just made it look stringy. Then I got a towel and ruffled it up. That was better. I had one final look at my reflection, tilting my head at different angles. Then I walked back into the room. "Oh ... I'm good at games," I said, seating myself in the chair opposite.

"That's what they all say," laughed Matt."What have you got then?"

"Monopoly, Risk ...."

"Haven't you got anything a bit more challenging?"

"What do you mean, a bit more challenging? Haven't you played monopoly? You need a good brain for that."

"Far too easy. Too easy mate."

"Too easy? Don't make me laugh. Take it or leave it. I don't have any other games anyway ... except a pack of cards."

"A pack of cards? Perfect!," he said excitedly. "Go and get them."

"Cards? You want to play cards?"

"Yeah, I like cards. Get the cards. The game I have in mind has more skill than anything else you mentioned."

"If that's what you want Matt." I took a deck of cards from a drawer and threw them at him, still in their box. "Catch. You shuffle. I'll go and get myself a beer." When I returned, I placed my beer on the table, and seated myself in the chair facing Matt. "So, how do you play this game then?"

"It's called truth or dare mate. You know it?"

"Truth or dare? Of course, if it's the same one I used to play. I thought it was a kids game. That's not very challenging at all Matt."

"Man, the way I play it, it is."

"I bet it is. Away you go then. I'm game. What now? Do we draw cards then do we?"

"Yep. Draw the lower card, and you're history. Be careful mate. Be very careful. My challenges won't be easy."

I relaxed back in the chair with the beer can in my hand, taking a couple of mouthfuls as I watched Matt, in a pair of Levi's with a rugby shirt tucked into them, shuffle and place the cards on the coffee table between us. I loved his look. He was mysteriously endearing. I couldn't put my finger on it. All I knew was that he was strangely pleasant to be in the presence of. That goes without saying, considering what happened in the showers. I leant forward, placed the half empty can on the table, and took a card from somewhere near the middle of the deck. I turned it face up on the table in front of me. "Oh no," I said, trying to sound enthusuastic, "a six."

"Bad luck mate," laughed Matt. He took a card and placed it in his palm, hidden from my view, and he looked at it secretively. "Shit!," he exclaimed, as he threw the card down on the table.

"What was it?," I asked.

"A three."

"Ah ha. Come on then Matt. Truth or dare?"

"I think I'll have a truth mate. Give me a truth."

"Um ... ok ... oh ... let me think of something. Oh ... I know ... have you ever stolen anything?"

"What? Have I ever stolen anything? What kind of a dumbarse question is that? Surely you can come up with something better than that? You're not very good at this game, are you mate? Have I ever stolen anything? Ha," said Matt smiling and shaking his head.

"Well? Have you ever stolen anything? Are you going to answer it or what?"

"I'll answer it. Give me time. I'm just trying to remember. Where do I start? My old lady's purse, my old man's wallet, my sister's lunch money, a pair of shoes, a packet of condoms ...."

"A packet of condoms?"

".... apples from the neighbours tree, a rugby ball, a six-pack of beer ... that's about it I think mate, most of it when I was a kid."

I laughed. "Really? You naughty boy."

"You'll have to try harder mate. You're too easy. Ok, you shuffle this time."

I shuffled the cards and placed them in a neat pile on the table. Matt cut the deck and placed his chosen card in the palm of his hand, as he did before. I chose a card and turned it over on the table. It was a ten.

"Not bad," I said. "What have you got?"

Matt smiled. He took the card from his palm and put it down next to mine. It was a king. "Do you want a truth or dare then?," he said. "Make sure you choose wisely."

"If I choose dare, what will it be?"

"I'm sorry, I can't tell you mate. It's going to be difficult, whatever you choose."

Looking at his face for signs of a reaction I said, "I'll try a dare then."

His reaction was another smile. "Are you sure you want a dare. Do you want to change it to truth?"

"No ... I'll do the dare," I said. I watched Matt's face as his smile broadened. "I should do a truth shouldn't I?"

"It's up to you mate. Do you want to do a truth then?"

"No. I'll go with my original choice."

"So have you made up your mind? It's not as easy as you thought, is it? It's a dare then is it mate? You want to do a dare?," asked Matt.

"Yep dare. I'll do the dare."

"Ok mate. Don't say I didn't warn you. I gave you the opportunity to change to a truth. But no. You want a dare. So here is your challenge. Are you ready?"

"Yes. I'm ready. Go on. Hit me with it"

Matt sat forward and rested his forearms on his knees. He tilted his head downwards, focusing on the coffee table between us. "Ok, your dare is ...." He hesitated. Then he lifted his eyebrows and looked up and across at me, kind of nervously. "I don't expect you'll do it. Um .... what I want you to do ... mate ... if you want to stay in the game ... is to show me your arse."

"What? What did you just say?" I don't know why I was so shocked, based on what had gone on earlier.

"Didn't you hear what I said?," asked Matt, sheepishly.

"I think I heard you," I said, not wanting to make a fool of myself if I was wrong. "Did you say I had to show you something?"

"Your arse. The dare is for you to show me your arse. But I can't let you get away with it that easy. There's more to it ... um ... mate ... you also have to let me pull your pants down."

I looked at Matt's handsome face and swallowed nervously. He looked away, at the television, which wasn't even turned on. There were stirrings in my groin. The tightness there had begun. It wouldn't be long before a bulge would be evident. Luckily I had the extra camouflage of my black long pants this time. "Are you serious?," I asked, already quite sure that he was.

Matt relaxed back into his chair, and tilted his can of beer to his lips. "That's the dare," he said, between sips. "You need to let me pull down your pants so that I can see your arse."

"I can't do that Matt. I've never heard of anything so stupid."

"Well. That's the dare. Sorry, you either do it, or I win the game," he said. "It's really not that hard. All you have to do is stand there while I get in behind you and pull your pants down, only at the back. I'll only see your arse and nothing else. It's a piece of cake man. I thought you said you were good at games?"

"I am normally, but this just isn't a game. It's more like torture," I said, even though I had a raging erection. It would have been so much easier if I knew he wouldn't either laugh or tell his mates. Perhaps a compromise might be in order. "How about I pull my pants down myself?"

"Oh, I'm sorry mate, but that is too easy."

"No it's not," I protested.

"Yes it is. Anyone can pull their own pants down. It's more challenging if I do it."

"What about my underpants then?"

"Your undies? What about them?"

"Well ... um ... what will happen to them?"

"I thought that was obvious."

"If it was obvious, I wouldn't be asking you. The dare mentioned nothing about my underpants. So I don't think they should be part of it."

"You're splitting hairs mate. When I said I would pull your pants down, surely it's implied that I will pull down your undies as well. The dare said for you to show me your arse. I can't see your arse without pulling your undies down as well as your pants," reasoned Matt.

"I don't know about that. You seemed to be managing to see it perfectly well through my underpants in the shower. I might consider doing the dare if you changed it a bit. I can't see how showing my arse has anything to do with lowering my underpants. Some people might interpret the dare as simply turning around and looking at my butt through my trousers."

"That's definitely not the way the dare was meant mate. No way would I make my dares that simple," he said.

"I'll tell you what. I'll meet you half way. Make it so that you pull down my pants but leave my underpants alone."

"Well what type of undies do you have on then?"

"Um ... oh ... I put on another pair of briefs."

"And what colour are they?"

"Light blue, but they're quite tight around the ... you know ... the cheeks."

"It wouldn't be the same mate. The dare was for you to show me your arse. By saying that, it quite clearly implies that your arse should be naked, regardless of how tight your undies are around your arsecheeks. Perhaps if you were wearing a jockstrap or a thong or something, it might pass. But the dare really requires that your arse be naked."

"How far do my underpants need to be pulled down before my arse is considered naked in your eyes?," I asked.

"As far as it takes for me to get a good view of your arse mate. It won't be as far as your knees, but it will be further than your arsehole."

It was only because my erection was speaking that the conversation had got this far. But I felt I had to speak with my head and not my penis. "I'm sorry Matt. I can't do it. I guess that means you win."

"Are you sure mate?"

"Yep, I'm sure."

Matt was far from jubilant. "You said you were good at games, but you're hopeless mate. You're so crazy. Just crazy. This is the easiest game of truth or dare I've ever played."

I sat up, shuffled my butt forward in the chair, and placed my hands on my knees. "I guess I'll turn the television on then," I said, as I stood. Matt didn't say anything at first. His concentration was somewhere else. I was sure the effect the game had on my anatomy was still evident in the crotch of my trousers, and he was looking straight at it. We paused there for a brief moment, then he looked up at my face.

"No wait, sit down," he said. "I hate seeing you lose so quickly. Sit down mate. I'll explain. I'm going to change the dare," he announced. "I want to make it easier for you."

"Really? Why?," I asked.

"I wouldn't have thought about changing it if you were half way decent at playing the game. I'm just too good for you mate. I like the game to be more challenging for me and not have my opponent quit so early. Because of that, I need to give you a head start. So I've decided to change the dare."

"Will it be something I can do this time?"

"I think so mate, but it's still not going to be easy. You shouldn't chicken out so quickly. Do you want to hear what it is?"

"Ok," I said sceptically. "I'll listen to it anyway."

"The new dare, mate, is the same as the old one actually. Except ... I have to show you my arse first."

"Oh really?" It was getting to the stage where nothing Matt said would shock me. "Do you mean that I get to do to you first, everything you were going to do to me?"

"That's exactly what I mean," he said.

"Including underpants?"

"Yes including my undies. I'll let you pull down my undies. But because I've changed the dare to make it easier for you, I've also got to add something else in to increase the difficulty a bit. It's like a trade-off, to make it easier and more difficult both at the same time."

"I don't follow."

"Well, you have to admit that showing my arse first, is easier for you than the previous dare. You won't be so embarrassed when it comes to your turn. So, in order to restore some difficulty, I've decided to make it so that when you pull my pants down, you are to reach through with your hand, between my legs, and feel my balls."

"I thought there would be a catch," I said. "I presume that includes you feeling my balls as well, when it's time for you to look at my arse?"

"Yes mate. So, will you do it?"

Matt looked at me eagerly. My underpants were once again struggling to contain my excitement. But now it was different. The thoughts in my mind were beginning to merge with those of my penis. "Before I decide, can you just describe the dare one more time?"

"Ok mate. Just interrupt if you need clarification on anything. While I'm standing, you get in behind me and pull my jeans and undies down at the back. Lower them as far as you need to so that my whole arse is exposed. I will let you have a good look at it. Then you push your hand between my legs and feel my balls," explained Matt. "And then we swap places."

"But what about ... you know ... your penis?"

"There's nothing in the dare that mentions our cocks. There's a chance you might accidentally touch it when you're feeling my balls. I suppose it depends on where it happens to be resting at the time," he explained.

"You're quite a stickler for the rules, aren't you?"

"It's best if we get the dare accurate, so we know what is allowed," said Matt.

"What about ... you know ... your anus then?"

"What about it?"

"Our hands are going to come pretty close aren't they? Will there be any touching of that part?"

"The dare mentioned nothing about our arseholes either mate. Perhaps I should have put something in the dare about spreading legs. That way, you may have got a good view of my arsehole, if that's what you wanted. In any case, you might accidentally see it or brush it when you're feeling my balls. But my arsehole is not specifically part of the dare. There was nothing in the dare that said anything about bending over either. But there is still a chance you may see my arsehole and I yours. Our arses will be completely naked, so we may have no control over it, if it accidentally happens."

At this point I was starting to get horny enough for some juice to be leaking, although there was no way of knowing, while still completely dressed. Somehow I became aware of Matt's musky aroma. Instead of just handsome, he became unbelievably handsome. Instead of just athletic, he became unbelievably athletic. I had to see his arse. And I wanted him to see mine. I suddenly blurted out "I'll do it!"[/QUOTE]