At the time of writing, all the guys I know are talking about the World Cup. Adrenalin is rushing to their heads and also to their dicks. The other night, all the fuss and enthusiasm took my mind back to my first big football game which coincided with my initiation into anal sex. On a bus. I think I'd better tell you about it as it's a pretty unusual story and like a lot of unusual stories it's true.

My father used to be a football coach and one summer he got me a part-time job 'cleaning out the stalls' as he put it. This meant scrubbing the changing rooms and making sure there were clean towels and soap and stuff for the football players. It also meant I got a pleasant overdose of hunky, hairy bodies and dicks to die for. Fortunately my father didn't know I was gay and couldn't wait to lose my virginity otherwise he wouldn't have put me in such a delightfully vulnerable position.

As luck or fate would have it, there was one player who always used to evade me. I'd either get there too soon or too late and never got to see him under the shower. His name was Paul Matthews. I was seventeen at the time and the sight of him, off and on the football field, was pricking at my puberty. Indeed I would have the wettest dreams at night just thinking about him. He had all the usual attributes of a football player: bulging biceps, rock hard pectorals and a flat stomach. In fact he was cut and ripped like a Greek Adonis of the Dionysus period. But what really appealed to me were his stupendous thighs as he thundered around the football field scoring goal after goal. I used to fantasize about him scoring with me and kicking up a storm in my ass as, with a lightening flash of his cock, he erupted inside me. I'd never been fucked before but that was how I imagined it.

Young and naive as I was, it didn't take me long to realize that he was the kind of guy who enjoyed displaying his body. He'd rush around the field waving his shirt after a game and didn't seem to care if the audience was male, female or just a full length mirror. Or me pretending to concentrate on a resistant piece of dirt on the floor as I watched him get dressed after a match. Once again my timing had been off so I didn't get the Full Monty but I was in time to see him towelling himself down and slipping his thunderous thighs into his jock strap. His ass had my head reeling, it was so gorgeous. I couldn't wait to get my hands on it. I hoped his prick was as muscular as the rest of him. I never saw him with a girl friend, or a boy friend for that matter, and imagined him gazing lustfully at his own body as he jerked off in front of the mirror or into his pillow. I smiled at the thought of him laying his head to rest in his own cum juice and thinking that was probably why his hair was so fabulously wavy. For a fledgling boy of seventeen, I certainly had a fertile imagination.

The following season my home team had to play a match several hundred miles away. My father took me there in the car but said I'd have to make my own way back as he had business to do the next day. He suggested I came back on the coach with the players. Our team won so there was much jubilation which mostly consisted of consuming gallons of beer but very little food. A particularly British habit I have grown to loathe as I now never drink unless as an accompaniment to a meal. Still I was able to enter a pub for the first time as I had just turned eighteen.

This was an experience in itself as it was full of rowdy football players and supporters. I saw someone go up to my idol and ask for a light. Paul's jeans were so tight that to me he seemed to be jerking off as he struggled to get the lighter out of his pocket. It also sent his butt off into horny gyrations as he stood up and finally produced the lighter. Then he slipped it easily back into his pocket. The thought of that hot, hard tubular lighter against Paul's hot, hard tubular cock had my mind working overtime. I hoped I could get to sit next to him on the bus and feel all that hardness and hotness pressed against me as I rolled over on my side and feigned sleep. But it was not to be. The bus was jam packed and the only space for me was towards the rear next to a burly fullback who smelt of beer. In fact the whole bus smelt of beer and sweat but this pungent combination of stale alcohol mingled with heady man juice was not altogether unpleasant to my neophyte nostrils.

The cotton curtains of the coach windows were drawn and the neon night lights filtered through. The luggage racks bulged with rucksacks and personal belongings and the seats below bulged with football players in various stages of undress and personal bulges. The guy across from me had his shirt wide open and my mouth opened even wider as I saw his perfect pecs rise and fall, showing a full expanse of flesh and one juicy nipple. The other one was hidden under his shirt but peeped out at every third breath or so. I wanted to rush across the aisle and feed from them both. The guy next to him had loosened his pants and had one hand inside his briefs, curled round his cock. It fascinated me how these men slept. I wanted to be a sheet or a pillow on all of their beds and fucked by the lot of them. In unison. Although I didn't know it yet I was already a potential butt slut. I was hot and horny and frustrated as hell especially when the fullback beside me began to snore. I walked down the bus to ask the driver if we were going to stop for coffee or something. The sight and the smell of all these macho men had me yearning for a men's room to relieve myself. In both senses of the word. He said in an hour or so. I walked back to my seat observing other erotic sleep positions on my way. My pounding penis felt like it was going to burst with beer or lust at any moment.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember was the bus pulling up in front of a gas station where there were toilet facilities. The whole bus load seemed to be of one mind and one dick and the small toilet couldn't accommodate them so they were peeing behind trees or openly on the road as I joined them. I had never peed a stream so long and full in all my young life nor derived so much pleasure from it. It was almost as good as coming, which I did quite often in front of a life size poster of Paul Matthews. I'd stuck it on my bedroom wall and used to say goodnight to it as I turned out the light and imagined him naked and jerking off all over me, covering me with his red hot cum. Now I also derived pleasure from some of the thick pricks relieving themselves beside me. In fact I stayed longer than absolutely necessary drinking it all in so to speak.

The coach was just preparing to pull out as I climbed on board and I found that the seat occupants had redistributed themselves. It was very dark and I had difficulty in finding a place. The bus gave a lurch and I suddenly found myself on someone's lap. He didn't stir except to make a grunt or two but something definitely stirred between his legs. He may have been half asleep but he was also half erect because soon I began to feel the hot contents of his crotch burning through the denim of my jeans. The bus continued to bounce which inevitably brought me into closer contact with the hardness of his flesh. He didn't say anything and I didn't know quite what to do. The more I moved my ass in a polite effort to shift my weight, the harder his cock grew. By now I was wedged against the window and couldn't see. Only feel. He pressed his crotch right into my ass crack and it didn't take me long to realize that my dream was coming true and at long last I was going to be shafted.

His body was shielding mine so only the keenest of observers would have noticed what we were doing. Light was no longer filtering through the windows as we were now driving through dark country roads and everybody else seemed to be sound asleep. Still I knew that once he penetrated my virgin ass hole I would have to be stoically silent so as not to give the game away. His hands worked their way round to the front of me and into my pants. My dick had never been so excited and I could feel pre-cum oozing from it in happy anticipation of what was about to happen to me. Somehow he drew my pants down over my erect dick and began to use my own juice to moisten my ass. His fingers were pleasantly penetrating as he rubbed the soft quivering lips of my love hole. Soon I heard and felt him open his own trousers. Something thick and hot flapped against my ass. I put my hand behind me to feel the shape and girth of his dick. It was huge and I knew it was hungry. It was slavering at the mouth. But so was my ass. I took a deep breath as he entered me which he did very slowly irrigating my channel with spittle and love juice. At the same time he worked his hands up to my nipples and played crazy cadenzas on them as if to distract me from what was going on below. Then he began making a bidet out of my left ear with his tongue and strumming my dick until my whole body was throbbing for him. Talk about sweet vibrations. Wow.

Finally, when I was least expecting it, he bit my ear lobe, tweaked my nipples and squeezed the fuck out of my dick, making me bite my lip with pain. Then in a white flash he made his full entry. My lip bled, my eyes watered and my ears rang but I didn't cry out once. Well maybe half a once. After all, I told myself, why cry when I was getting something I'd been longing for all my life.

He lay still for a moment like a submerged submarine in alien waters. My heaving ass was turbulently waiting for him to turn it into a butter churn and my mind was churning with mixed images. I could feel his pubic hairbrush stroke my smooth ass cheeks as he headed for deep water. Then he built up a rock steady beat which soon had my butt singing operatic arias. I sucked on his cock with my ass-lips like a new born baby thirsting for its mother's milk. "More,more,more!" it seemed to cry. At the same time I felt like a suckling pig on a spit and my ass seemed to be on fabulous fire as he slowly and silently speared and skewered me. For my part I chomped away happily, feasting my greedy ass cheeks on his gi-normous, gorgeous dick. The more I consumed, the more I wanted. I wanted him longer and stronger inside me. I wanted to swallow him whole. Feel his dick invade my throat and pop foaming out of my mouth. I wanted our two bodies to merge and become one. And this was only my first fuck. As if he could read my mind (or ass) he took advantage of an occasional bus lurch to give me a hard lunge or a few long thrusting agonisingly wonderful strokes. I was buffeted and buggered to a slow boil and my dick was convulsed with strange ecstatic jerkings. I never wanted it to end. At the height of it all I put my hands behind me to grasp his bare ass and to thrust him even further inside me. They settled on two marble mounds which I had seen but never touched. I recognized them at once. I hung suspended.

At that momentous moment one of nature's creatures must have run across the road as the driver jammed on his brakes and my unseen but fully felt lover jammed the rest of his dick into my rejoicing ass. I finally experienced the pounding of those thunderous thighs as he bounced my butt towards the goal of mutual satisfaction and we both scored. "Paul!" I screamed in horny ecstasy as his dick erupted inside me just as I had imagined it would. Instinctively, I reached out for something to catch the cum that was spurting generously from my joyous dick. All I could find was my old scout's beret which I'd stuck in my pocket in case of rain. Now I was using it to mop up a different kind of storm. I smiled happily to myself as I thought of wearing it afterwards and getting wavy hair just like Paul's.

People began to wake up and some began to complain but nobody seemed any the wiser as to what had run across the road or what had made me shout out Paul's name. Amazing when you think how potent the smell of cum is. My ass, hands and nostrils were full of it. Maybe in that bus load of lusty male stench it had lost the battle between stale beer and body odour and nobody could tell the difference.

Soon everybody drifted back to sleep and I was able to turn round and kiss the man of my dreams full on the mouth.

"How did you know it was me?" he asked.

"Mine to know and yours to find out," I said. "How did you know it was me?"

"Easy. It was just a question of weight and waiting." he said ambiguously.

It was then that I realized that he'd had his eye on me for a long time and that when my hot ass finally hit his hot crotch he knew I was too light weight to be one of the players and decided to give me the butt ride of my life. Naturally we became lovers although of course not openly and for many a season after that we played happily together, home and away, but never in public view.

So that was my initiation to anal sex and I've never looked back, so to speak.

Eventually Paul and I drifted apart but in a nice way. In fact, I have many pleasant memories and happy souvenirs of him. He made me a present of his jock strap and I bought him a t-shirt with "Let's get one thing straight. I'm not," written on it. He loved it but wouldn't wear it.

Maybe he will one day in my honour. I'm sure I'm the greatest fuck he ever had. And the quietest.

Of course, I had to throw away the scout beret so my hair's still straight even if I'm not. And then I have his football shirt and lots and lots of photos including one of his butt with his autograph scrawled right across his bare ass. Cum to think of it he should really have one of me.

Since Paul, I've had many lovers of long and short duration but I'll never forget him. Or that raunchy ride. It was one of those once in a lifetime experiences. And besides, as we all know, the first time is really something special. Home or away.