I was in the first year of college and although I was not built to play football, I really liked the sport. So, I decided that the only way I could be able to see all the games was to volunteer to do some menial job for the team. I got assigned to the equipment locker, which included passing out the towels to all the players as they came into the locker room after their practice.

Although I was kind of closeted in my sexual preference, I knew that I did like seeing all of these gridiron hunks as they scampered around in the locker room getting ready for a game or practice. I noticed how many of them were so huge in the thighs from all their activities on the football field - pushing each other around and trying to use their brawn to topple their opponent down. Most of them had handsome butts that just stuck out of their jock strap as it framed the cheeks of those rounded white spheres.

Of course, I could see into the shower room. I only had a view of one of the 15 showers from my vantage point in the equipment room, but I would catch a glimpse of one naked body every now and then, standing at that shower, washing the sweat off his well-formed body. I knew that I was feeling a little more than just wanting to watch, but I was certainly not going to make it known that I was interested in glaring at those hunks with anything more than a mere notice.

One fellow, however, really turned my head. He was a 6 ft. 2 inches tall, brown haired, hunk of a man and had the bluest eyes that just looked as if they would melt even the coldest of steel. He had some well-defined tan marks that showed he wore a thong type bathing suit when he would go to a beach or sun himself. I found out that his name was Mark Ackerman and every time he came to the equipment locker to get some provisions or a towel, he had the nicest smile as he looked at me. I would feel my knees weaken and hope he wouldn't notice as I handed him a towel.

Secretly, I was wishing that he would be the one guy that would have to use the shower that was in full view of my equipment room, but, for some reason, I never got to see that. I only got an occasional glimpse of him, at his locker, with his back toward me, showing that beautiful tan line over his white butt before he would cover it with a towel to go take his shower. I just dreamed of what might be lurking under the towel that was on the front side of this beautiful man. Even after his showers, he would be facing away from my equipment room while he was dressing.

Being that this was my first year in college, along with my folks helping me financially, I had saved enough from my summer jobs to rent a small cottage house on a nearby lake. It was used by the owners only in the summer and that meant there was no one around for at least a mile on either side. I had made a deal to help improve the property, in lieu of a high rent. I had decided to put up a fence around the side of the little cottage to kind of