Desperate in goal

Twenty minutes to go. Neil jogged up and down the goal line between the posts. He just needed to hold it in for another twenty minutes. Fortunately the rest of the team were much better than him and most of the action was taking place at the other end of the pitch, he hadn’t had to do much at all this afternoon – just as well really, they were scraping the bottom of the barrel when there was no option but to put him in goal. He’d much rather be left on the subs bench or, better still, indoors watching from a nice warm classroom. But that was never going to happen with Mr Miller making everyone play, so that no-one felt left out… Brilliant… Neil hated school sports…
He didn’t mind glimpsing the other boys’ bits while they were in the showers though. In fact, that was the only part that made standing here on this freezing cold pitch bearable. He was particularly looking forward to seeing Mark’s cock – he was the most developed lad in class, with masses of pubes and an impressive length of cock.
However much he thought about the showers it wasn’t making the urge to shit go away. He really needed to go now. He desperately clenched his bum cheeks together as he felt the turd push against his hole. “Come on,” he said to himself, “You can do this, it’s only another fifteen minutes. Just keep holding it in”. Imagine what the others would say if he shit himself – they already made fun of him most of the time anyway, and had a wide range of names for him – he didn’t need to give them another one.
He really was losing the battle with the turd – it really wanted to break free. He briefly considered dropping his shorts and letting the turd drop onto the ground but decided that there was no way no-one would notice. His luck would mean that at the very moment he exposed his arsehole to the freezing cold air, the ball would suddenly end up at his end of the pitch and both teams would get a grandstand view of his massive turd making its appearance.
Ten minutes to go. Everyone else was still at the far end of the pitch. What if he did let it out into his pants? He was wearing a little pair of tighty-whiteys so it wouldn’t fall out. He’d had to do that once before on the way home, but at least there hadn’t been an audience and he’d managed to walk the rest of the way feeling the warm turd pressing against his bum-crack. No-one was at home when he got there, so he was able to carefully strip off and remove his pants to reveal the solid lump of shit moulded into the shape of his crack. It had peeled off the pants surprisingly easily and he’d flushed it away. He’d kept the pants though, hidden under his bed, and liked to sniff them occasionally, especially when he was experimenting with the best way to wank his cock.
Five minutes to go. Neil knew he could hold it back no longer. Even if he did, he didn’t know how he would be able to walk back to the changing rooms without letting it go. With no real choice, he relaxed his sphincter and felt a large solid turd push its way into his pants. It felt like it was never going to stop but it eventually did, just as the final whistle blew. Neil managed to hang back and be last off the pitch as they all trooped back indoors. He was trying to walk as though he didn’t have a pile of shit in his pants but Mr Miller definitely gave him a funny look as he passed by.
He managed to slip into a toilet cubicle and pulled down his shorts and pants to reveal a solid, dark brown, knobbly turd which he managed to drop into the toilet bowl. He wiped his bum which didn’t seem too dirty considering. All he had to do now was get his pants off in the changing room without anyone seeing the huge skidmark. He was pretty sure he could manage this, but how was he going to hide the massive hard-on he now had..?

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