RUGBY LEAGUE – PART ONE (OF EIGHT!)

WARNING!

(Please Read Carefully)

The following short story is not for the feint hearted. It is intended for adults only with an interest in gay sex and rugby league and it contains plenty of visceral and extremely graphic male on male group sex. The rugby league match at the heart of the story gets pretty rough. The sex that follows it is even rougher. There is a lot of strong dialogue, but all sexual participants are adults and in a fully consensual mindset to what occurs. Please note that there are some urination, rimming and other fetish scenes and similar strong elements throughout. If this isn’t of interest, best to leave this story alone. For those readers who give it a look, in knowledge of the above, I hope that you enjoy it.

Please be aware that the characters’ names used, except for professional rugby league players, aren’t real names.

E-mail comments and criticisms are welcome: rugby.rigger@yahoo.com / rugby.rigger@yahoo.co.uk

Warming Up.

I never imagined my passion for rugby league would be turn out to be a great boost for my sex life, but I don’t look back with any regrets. I first started playing rugby league at school: My family had a fair few players so I had plenty of encouragement and I developed a reasonable amount of skill in the game. This was back in the old days before the glamour of the Super League and as a strapping broad shouldered lad for my age at the time, though I’d admit not the brightest, performed far better on the field than the classroom. Being a West Yorkshire lad, born and bred, there was no chance of playing rugby union. League tradition goes deep round here. I haven’t played for a few years now, but after my school days, I kept up the sporting life with a local Amateur Rugby League Football Club. I never had any delusions of going professional and didn’t waste too much time fantasising about playing for the likes of Bradford Northern or Leeds R.L.F.C., though I will admit that I did once harbour a secret aspiration to play for Featherstone Rovers!

I was reaching my peak at 25, back in the early 90’s when I was playing second row for the amateur team of the mining village I grew up in. As I progressed over the years I eventually made my way onto our small club’s “Over 21’s” squad. I’m a tall lad, 6’0” in my bare feet and well built, but I can run as well, so it wasn’t surprising I had my skills developed for the second row, a position in which I eventually made a very good name for myself as a serious amateur player, despite originally wanting to play fullback after my Uncle. I wasn’t quite Dennis Betts, but I put plenty of effort in on the field, and saw a fair amount of success from it, and in better years was close on for a four points per game average. I kept myself up to the standard of the sport with plenty of effort at the local gym with the rest of the meat heads. Many hours of grunting, sweating and bench press calluses packed a good, solid 14 stone of hard muscle onto to my frame to add to the