Boom. Boom. Boom. His feet pounded down on the wet track, each stride landing with the force of anvils, shaking his massive body and splashing up water from the puddles on the ground.
Boom. Boom. Splash! THe giant slipped, crashing onto the wet ground, his momentum sliding him forward, creating a rivet on the track, splattering mud all about him in the pouring rain. For a moment the giant just laid there, breathing heavy. After a few moments he inhaled deeply and lifted himself easily with a classic push up. Gathering a knee under himself the giant stood, mud covering his t-shirt and shorts, ground into his matted hair and scalp. He leaned over and rubbed his right knee. Straightening he turned toward the clock on the school's bell tower. After a moment he sighed, ran his fingers through his hair and turned back to the track. Leaning forward, almost tipping forward the giant bucked inertia and strode forward, catching himself.
36 minutes and two falls later the giant turned off the track, looking something like the creature from the black lagoon, and jogged to the garage entrance of his school's gymnasium. The rain crashing down on him now the giant stood there stolidly, wiping off most of the mud so as not to make a mess, shivering from the pouring rain. His face clear of mud, the curly brown hair and piercing blue eyes made the giant easily recognizable as Tom Williams, scholarship student and best known as the starting center for the school's football team. Reaching for the door he swung it open and entered.
Tom knew the rythem and flow of the school's staff. Campus security would be by in a few minutes to lock the door. After that you couldn't get in, but anyone inside could still leave. Like athletes who went above and beyond to master thier sports. Tom appreciated that so he had put a towel by this door after football practice when it started to rain. He didn't want to track mud and water on his way to the locker room.
Tom's extra training was a personal initiative. He ran sprints for an hour and then ran track for two hours. Tom was going to be an NFL center, there was no doubt in his mind, and he wanted to be the fastest center in the NFL, and be able to run the entire game if he had to and not grow weary. It was a crazy tactic for a center. Most line men spent thier training on bulking up in the gym. Tom did his share of that but nature had given him one hell of an advantage there. He stood at 6'5" and weighed in at 350lbs, trimming down from 380 or so, getting rid of most of his body fat when he took up wrestling in high school.
Tom took the towel with him when he finished towelling off and headed up to the locker rooms. He'd just gotten back into his training sessions and his body wasn't used to doing 6 hours of classes, 2 hours at the gym, a full practice and three hours of running in one day. He'd gone easy, light weights, high reps in the gym and didn't push himself very hard when running. This early in his training Tom was trying to build up stamina more then sheer muscle mass. Scraping his knee when he fell the first time didn't help and the truth was he was beat. That was probably why he took the nearer door to the girl's locker room instead of the men's.
In his defense the locker rooms were identicle. Lockers in the same place, bathrooms in the same place, same color tiles, same communal showers: no stalls, no curtains, just a large cement square with a drain in the center of the floor and a dozen showerheads. Tom smiled at the sight, suppressing a shiver. He didn't bother grabbing soap or shampoo out of his locker, Tom was freezing; focused on the hot pounding spray the school's shower always had. Kicking off his shoes Tom started to pull off his t-shirt. The suction of the wet cotton refused to yield. Tom sighed, pulling the shirt from his chest then lifting it slowly over his head, dropping it on the floor in disgust. His shorts came off easy, then his jock, freeing his uncircumsized cock. He leaned against a locker to roll off his soaked socks then Tom stood naked in the middle of the locker room, a worn and weary Adonis. He exhaled slowly, grinned, and entered the communal showers.
With a flick of his wrist the shower knob turned and Tom was rewarded with a cold blast of water. Clenching his teeth he rode it out as the shower warmed. Ducking down to get his head under the spray he stood there for long minutes, his hands leaning against the wall, letting the powerful spray push all the dirt out from his falls. Eventually he turned, letting the hot, powerful spray pulsate against his large back, letting out a low moan. After awhile he turned, leaning his side against the wall, tired and weary the hot water warming even his extremities.
Tom couldn't tell you exactly when he closed his eyes but it felt good to close out the abrasive flourescent light. Nor could he tell you when he fell asleep.
Boom. Boom. Splash! THe giant slipped, crashing onto the wet ground, his momentum sliding him forward, creating a rivet on the track, splattering mud all about him in the pouring rain. For a moment the giant just laid there, breathing heavy. After a few moments he inhaled deeply and lifted himself easily with a classic push up. Gathering a knee under himself the giant stood, mud covering his t-shirt and shorts, ground into his matted hair and scalp. He leaned over and rubbed his right knee. Straightening he turned toward the clock on the school's bell tower. After a moment he sighed, ran his fingers through his hair and turned back to the track. Leaning forward, almost tipping forward the giant bucked inertia and strode forward, catching himself.
36 minutes and two falls later the giant turned off the track, looking something like the creature from the black lagoon, and jogged to the garage entrance of his school's gymnasium. The rain crashing down on him now the giant stood there stolidly, wiping off most of the mud so as not to make a mess, shivering from the pouring rain. His face clear of mud, the curly brown hair and piercing blue eyes made the giant easily recognizable as Tom Williams, scholarship student and best known as the starting center for the school's football team. Reaching for the door he swung it open and entered.
Tom knew the rythem and flow of the school's staff. Campus security would be by in a few minutes to lock the door. After that you couldn't get in, but anyone inside could still leave. Like athletes who went above and beyond to master thier sports. Tom appreciated that so he had put a towel by this door after football practice when it started to rain. He didn't want to track mud and water on his way to the locker room.
Tom's extra training was a personal initiative. He ran sprints for an hour and then ran track for two hours. Tom was going to be an NFL center, there was no doubt in his mind, and he wanted to be the fastest center in the NFL, and be able to run the entire game if he had to and not grow weary. It was a crazy tactic for a center. Most line men spent thier training on bulking up in the gym. Tom did his share of that but nature had given him one hell of an advantage there. He stood at 6'5" and weighed in at 350lbs, trimming down from 380 or so, getting rid of most of his body fat when he took up wrestling in high school.
Tom took the towel with him when he finished towelling off and headed up to the locker rooms. He'd just gotten back into his training sessions and his body wasn't used to doing 6 hours of classes, 2 hours at the gym, a full practice and three hours of running in one day. He'd gone easy, light weights, high reps in the gym and didn't push himself very hard when running. This early in his training Tom was trying to build up stamina more then sheer muscle mass. Scraping his knee when he fell the first time didn't help and the truth was he was beat. That was probably why he took the nearer door to the girl's locker room instead of the men's.
In his defense the locker rooms were identicle. Lockers in the same place, bathrooms in the same place, same color tiles, same communal showers: no stalls, no curtains, just a large cement square with a drain in the center of the floor and a dozen showerheads. Tom smiled at the sight, suppressing a shiver. He didn't bother grabbing soap or shampoo out of his locker, Tom was freezing; focused on the hot pounding spray the school's shower always had. Kicking off his shoes Tom started to pull off his t-shirt. The suction of the wet cotton refused to yield. Tom sighed, pulling the shirt from his chest then lifting it slowly over his head, dropping it on the floor in disgust. His shorts came off easy, then his jock, freeing his uncircumsized cock. He leaned against a locker to roll off his soaked socks then Tom stood naked in the middle of the locker room, a worn and weary Adonis. He exhaled slowly, grinned, and entered the communal showers.
With a flick of his wrist the shower knob turned and Tom was rewarded with a cold blast of water. Clenching his teeth he rode it out as the shower warmed. Ducking down to get his head under the spray he stood there for long minutes, his hands leaning against the wall, letting the powerful spray push all the dirt out from his falls. Eventually he turned, letting the hot, powerful spray pulsate against his large back, letting out a low moan. After awhile he turned, leaning his side against the wall, tired and weary the hot water warming even his extremities.
Tom couldn't tell you exactly when he closed his eyes but it felt good to close out the abrasive flourescent light. Nor could he tell you when he fell asleep.
