The next day, Bob couldn't keep his mind on his job, his mind still going back to the night before, and it was almost time for the lacrosse team practice and there were still things to do to prepare the locker room. Though not really part of his job description, Bob helped the team manager and his assistants lay out the gear each player would need for the practice that day. Piles of shirts, shorts, socks and jockstraps had to be distributed to each player's locker so when they arrived they could immediately get changed and visit the trainer if necessary. There was a list that mapped locker to player and player to size, but this late into the season Bob had it committed to memory.
That day, Bob was pushing the cart filled with jockstraps and cups. As he reached each locker he'd grab the proper size jock, insert a sanitized cup and lay it neatly folded in the locker.
As his mind wandered, he recalled that one of the first things he learned working in the locker room was that the colored stripes on a jockstrap waistband indicated its size. "Shit!" he thought. "I can't remember anything from my classes this morning. Why did I think about that?"
Bob still had ten lockers to go when the first of the lacrosse players arrived. He wondered what was wrong with him; why was it taking him so long. None of the staff liked to be seen handling the guys' jocks and the razzing that came with it. Other staff had received comments like "Bet you'd rather be handing that jock with me in it" while the player grabbed their pouch and "Hey, mine has a hole in the back!" as they bent over and spread their ass cheeks. Bob had never gotten caught doing this part of the job and he waited for the comments to fly.
He hurriedly finished the job not looking around to see who might be watching. As he headed back with the cart, he finally glanced up and noticed a couple of the players standing together watching him but he got no ribbing.
After returning the cart, Bob made a straight line back to his office. He had almost gotten there when a hand grabbed his shoulder. He stopped quickly and spun around to find Nick standing there with concern on his face. He quietly asked Bob if everything was alright. A number of answers ran through Bob's mind. He decided that "Hell no and it's all your fault!" was not the appropriate answer and just replied that he was feeling confused but okay. Nick asked to meet him later to explain. Bob mumbled a reply before turning and walking on.
As more of the team came in, they noticed Bob staring into space. A number of the guys asked him if anything was wrong in concerned voices. Paul, one of the jokers on the team came over to him and said "Bob. I saw you hitting on that honey last night. Today you look like the condom broke." Then turning to face the locker room, Paul said in a loud voice "Hey everybody! Bob's going to be a daddy!"
Bob forced a smile and shook his head.
A few minutes later, Dan, a tall thin guy, officially weighing in at a measly 175 pounds, walked naked to Bob carrying his jockstrap. "Bob, while I'd like to grow into this, it ain't gonna happen before practice."
Bob glanced at the jock and saw that he had left Dan a size extra-large. Bob took the jock from him and returned with a medium and an apology.
Bob came out of his fog long enough to realize that all the players had arrived and the locker room was buzzing with its normal chatter and activity. Occasionally he'd notice a guy look in his direction for a moment but nothing more was said. It was time for them to get their heads ready now. They couldn't be thinking about him.
Having avoided looking toward Nick's locker, Bob glanced in that direction and saw a very quiet and subdued Nick sitting there. One of the assistant coaches called the players into the team room and they began to file out.
The team manager and most of the assistants headed out to the field while the ones remaining, along with Bob, once again began to work the locker room. While the team was practicing, tape and water bottles and other trash had to be picked up. Some of the guys had been munching on cookies or PowerBars and the vacuum cleaner was pulled out to get the crumbs. Huge laundry baskets for the dirty uniforms were then rolled to the middle of the room. Finally, piles of folded clean towels were left at strategic locations and scissors lay on a table for the players that were taped.
If everything was going normally, this is when Bob took his meal break. It was always nice to get some fresh air, and that day it helped him clear his head.
As he sat eating his burger, first he wondered about Nick. Is Nick gay? He dismissed that thought because he had seen Nick with enough girls to know it was not just an act. There were other guys on the team he'd suspect before Nick. But Nick had masturbated while watching him eat out the girl and, of course, straight guys don't blow other guys.
Okay, so that meant that Nick was probably bi. Bob could probably describe himself the same way. Bob knew he liked looking at guys. Seeing all those well-built jocks was one of the reasons he liked his job. Perhaps he was bi as well but repressed it or hadn't had the opportunity to act on his urges. What was so terrible about the prior evening? Well, nothing as long as no one else found out. He wasn't sure what he was and he sure as hell didn't want anyone else labeling him before he figured it out.
The team would be finishing practice in another twenty minutes so Bob headed back to the locker room. He was feeling much better now. He seemed to recall Nick saying something about talking with him later and decided he'd agree to meet him.
As he entered the locker room, he immediately noticed that Shane, number 33, had already showered and left. Bob hoped it wasn't because of injury. Doing a three-sixty, the locker room appeared ready so Bob went back to his office.
About ten minutes later the players returned. With a clearer head, Bob stood at his door and watched as they stripped bare ass and threw their dirty stuff into the laundry baskets before heading to the showers. He smiled, thinking that for college level athletes their aim was sure sorry when it came to hitting the baskets. They had the most trouble with their jockstraps as the majority of them ended up on the floor. Bob thought that perhaps the players just liked to make the team assistants handle their sweaty, smelly straps.
As Bob stood there ready if something should go wrong, he surveyed the team. There were forty-nine players including the red shirts. Unlike football where everyone weighed a ton or basketball where all the guys had to be careful not to bump their heads on the top of the door frames, this team ranged from 5'8" to 6'4". Bob was taller than a number of them. They also ranged in weight. The lightest guy was around 160 pounds depending on what he'd had for lunch. The biggest guy, a midfielder like Nick, was 6'4" and 270 pounds - he wore one of the extra-large jockstraps.
Bob's eyes drifted lower as he began checking out their cocks. There were small ones and large ones and the size didn't correspond to the attached body. Drew, pretty much the smallest guy in stature, hung better than half the team. A small minority of the team was uncut. Sometimes he'd overhear jokes from the other players, but in general dick razzing appeared off-limits. He speculated it was because you weren't supposed to notice your teammate's junk. Bob then realized a funny thing was happening. His cock was pushing against his boxer-briefs. He never got hard looking at the guys. Quickly turning away, he adjusted himself so it wouldn't show.
The players were hungry so they were quick to shower and dress. Most had left when Nick stopped by Bob's office now looking a bit sheepish. This time Nick told him he was sorry about last night. Bob replied "It's alright. I've had a chance to think about it and I would like to talk with you."
Nick's face brightened and he asked if there was a private place they could meet. Bob suggested his dorm room since his roommate was gone for the night.
Though somewhat concerned about how to explain his visit if seen, Nick agreed to meet Bob in his room at nine that evening.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Read Part 4
Read Part 4
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