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.I wanted to score and I wanted to score.I met his eyes, locked in tight across the expanse of glowing hardwood.I was determined.I was hard as a fucking rock and my balls felt like they were packed with molten brass.Give me your best shot, Harry.The ball left his hand, roaring towards me.I expected it to smoke, to burn through the atmosphere of the room, it was moving so fast.Beyond it, slowed down through my concentration, was Harry's face, lit by a combination of determination and something else.That something else was what slowed me down, that pushed me out of the groove.I knew that expression because I realized it was probably exactly the same expression I was wearing: lust."That's it, Handy-Joe,” Paul said, slapping me on the back.I hadn't even heard the ball hit the wall.“Now it's your turn.""My turn?” I mumbled, numbed by the adrenalin let-down.I felt whiplashed by emotion and near-exhaustion.My cock, though, was still hard as a damned rock."Sure,” he said, steering me out towards the middle of the room.“He got past you, now he was to prove he can get as well as he gives.Harry does that—then he wins."I was dumbfounded.I thought that was it; hell, I wanted that to be it.I was covered in sweat, hard as a rock, my legs were throbbing and my arms were sore.I didn't want to say it, but all I wanted to do was.and you have to understand how hard this was to think, to realize, me the jock, me the sports boy.but all I wanted to do was take Harry into the back and fuck him till we both couldn't walk.It was the first time I'd ever wanted sex over sports, and it shook me all the way down to my tented athletic supporter.But then Paul put that ball into my hand, and pointed to Harry, standing in the goal.“Come on, Handy-Joe,” he said.“You can take him!"That did it.Yeah, I wanted to have his ass, but I wanted to take it as well.I wanted to beat him off, but I also wanted to beat him.I wanted to blow him, but I also wanted to blow him away; and I don't know how it was possible, but I was even harder.“You ready?""Give it to me, Joe,” Harry said, giving me an evil grin.Okay, it was going to be tough.But tough is where it's at, right? Easy in bed, easy on the field doesn't make it interesting.Seeing Harry there, big, strong, determined, and fucking sexy, made it very tough and hard, who could forget hard? I was very hard.Anywhere else I'd have been worried about my throbbing dick, but with these guys, it only seemed to be a part of the sport, like a bat, stick, or cue.I sized him up, locked into the groove.It was disconcerting, being on the other end, but there was also a sense of power.It was a good feeling.I decided I could risk a couple of losses to see how Harry handled the ball.After all, maybe he could give but couldn't take—though looking at his handsome body by the net I certainly hoped he could do both.Winding up, I let fly with something about 3/4 strength, aiming low and to the right.Damn, he was fast.For a big guy, he moved like lightning.A huge arm swung up and neatly smacked the ball back to me.“Come on, Joe, you can do better.” Harry's smile was wide and sincere.He was right, but I didn't want to give him my best, not yet.Let him think that was close to it.“You'll know it when you see it,” I told him, licking my lips."Believe me, I want to."Enough banter, besides, it was throwing off my concentration: hard to think about the game when images of a naked throbbing dick kept muddying the field.Getting a good grip on the ball, I gave it a lot more force and a lot more body English, aiming this time for the left, seeing if I could catch a blind spot.No such luck, but I did see something else—something that almost made my game-face slip.“Man,” I said, “this is tougher than it looks.""Come on, Handy-Joe—sock it to him!” Paul said, watching intently, arms still tight around Raoul."I'll give it a shot,” I said, feigning doubt, trying to keep my eyes to Harry's right.I took a second to weigh the ball in my hand, then let fly with enough effort to force a deep, hard grunt out of my lungs.Harry moved, but not enough.I saw his arm swing out towards the ball but my speed, angle, and his own left-side preference let it slip right by.The sound of rubber on wall was one of the sweetest sounds I'd ever heard.It was all I could do to keep from letting go with a whoop of triumph."Fuck,” Harry said, startled, shocked, and probably more than a little pissed off.I felt like laughing, but didn't.Play it cool, Joe, I reminded myself: stay frosty.“I'm just getting warmed up
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