The locker room smelled like sweat, wet grass, and cheap body spray. It was that thick, masculine stink that always lingered after practice, the kind that got stuck in your nose and made your head spin if you breathed too deep. Most of the team had already cleared out, slamming lockers and laughing about the win. Only a few stragglers remained, towels slung low on their hips, muscles still pumped and shiny from the showers.
Jake thought he was alone.
He sat on the wooden bench in front of his locker, legs spread wide, his football shorts pushed down just enough to free his thick c**k. His hand moved in fast, greedy strokes. The vein along the underside of his shaft pulsed under his fingers as he jerked himself hard, eyes half-closed, head tilted back against the cold metal locker door. A
