It was a hot, muggy Tennessee night. The stadium lights were on, making the football field an island of light in the darkness, and all around there was the crackle of bugs in the night.

Will was there late, like always. He'd picked up the habit as a freshman, trying to impress the coach, stand out from the crowd. Now he was senior, 18 years old, team captain, top draft pick--you name it. But still the habit stuck with him.

The other boys had drifted slowly away once practice ended, then even Coach Sadler had left. But Will had stayed behind, giving pointers to anyone who wanted to stay and practicing with Thomas, their wide receiver. Finally, even Thomas left, and Will was alone.

He was drenched with sweat. His uniform was soaked through and when he licked his lips, they were strong with salt. He smiled. This was when he really felt alive, when all his world was a circle of light, when there was only the grass, the ball, the air, and nothing else mattered.

Will could feel every muscle in his body. His arm was tired from throwing, his legs from sprints and squats, his abs from the endless crunches. He wanted to pull off his salty pads and feel the cold water of the shower. He wanted to drive home with Rush blaring, eat the leftovers his mom left for him, and then lie nude on his soft bed until he fell asleep.

Well, that would come. But he wasn't done yet. Somewhere out there, another football player was still training, and when Will played against that person, he'd lose. Even as he felt the tiredness in his joints and the ache in his muscles, Will knew that he had more to give.

Alone, Will did ladder sprints across the field. By the time he was halfway done, his lungs were burning and his breath tasted like blood. By the time he was three quarters done, his legs felt like rubber. Still, he pushed himself forward, gritting his teeth. On the last stretch, he ran as fast as he could, even as his legs rebelled against him. Finally, he made it back to his end zone. Tempted to throw himself down on the ground right then and there, Will forced himself to walk and cool down, struggling to gain control of his breathing. As soon as he could breathe, he dropped to the ground and did forty pushups. Up yours, other football player.

Okay. Now he was done. He'd given his all. Will grabbed his ball and shut off the field lights, then walked in the dark back to the high school. His legs were weak and unsteady beneath him, making him walk slowly. He eased the school door open and walked through the darkened halls to the locker room. Once there, he flipped on the lights and tossed his ball to the ground.

He undressed slowly, dropping each item of his uniform to the floor, leaving a trail of pads behind him on the way to the shower. Finally, he was only wearing his jockstrap. Damn, it felt good to finally get those off. The air in the school was cooler than outside, and with his pads off he could actually feel it. Will hooked a finger under his elastic waistband and pulled downward. He groaned as the wet fabric pulled free of him, freeing his balls.

Will reached a hand down and massaged them. He quite understood the importance of cups and athletic support, but every time he took it off, it felt like he had to mold his balls back into shape. He glanced down, half-expecting them to still hold the shape of the cup, but no, they hung low and heavy and slick with sweat. A faint breeze passed them. Ah, now that felt nice.

Will stretched, feeling every muscle in his body. He looked down at himself, admiring. He always felt strong and muscular after a workout. He flexed and ran a hand over his hard stomach. He was still working on getting the last bit of definition on his abs, but he had to admit they were pretty sexy. He tensed his legs, looking at the lines of definition on his thigh and calf.

And then he looked at his groin. His thick, blond pubic hair was wet with sweat, and it clung to his body just above his penis. He wished his penis looked a little bigger; that was the one part of him that didn't look bigger after a workout. Guess all the blood went other places. He reached a hand down and tugged gently once or twice. Even if no one else was around, he still liked the thought of it hanging long and full, dangling as he walked.

Will walked to the showers. A line of shower heads protruded from the tile walls. He turned two of them on high, then angled them at him so he caught the spray from both of them.

He closed his eyes and felt the water pounding his body, washing the salt and soreness away. He was absolutely exhausted, but content. He'd given everything he could give, and he knew that he'd be prepared for the next game. He imagined it, throwing a touchdown pass for the win and the sound of the crowd. And he thought of Kelly Hames, the cutest cheerleader on the squad smiling at him, her long, slim legs only barely covered by her uniform's mini-skirt. He thought of her hugging him and of the feeling of her soft body pushed up against his.

Will felt a stirring in his groin. And then after the game, maybe Kelly would be so proud of him that she'd let him take her out driving in his truck, and they'd watch the stars from the bed, and she'd roll over on top of him, and he'd feel her weight on him.

Will slipped a hand down to his groin, then hesitated. It was late enough that no one would be here. Coach and the other players were long gone, so no one would catch him here. And besides he had just had a good, long workout. He deserved a chance to work a little tension out.