Stupid Boy - Sophomore Year
Copyright© 2015 by G Younger
Chapter 35: Elite 11 (Part 1)
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 35: Elite 11 (Part 1) - David Dawson is living the high school dream -- brilliant student, captain of the football team, beautiful girlfriends -- when his world is turned inside out when his best friends leave for college and a new football coach wants his son to now lead the team. Find out how David overcomes new challenges and makes new acquaintances as he strives to make it through his Sophomore Year. This is the third in the continuing award winning series Stupid Boy. Nominated for 2016 Clitoride Award.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft mt/Fa ft/ft Mult Teenagers School Sports Rags To Riches Group Sex Anal Sex Oral Sex Slow
Sunday July 5
Today was the beginning of one of the most important weeks of my football future. The camp was being held at Nike's Corporate Campus, in Beaverton, Oregon. Beaverton was located just seven miles from downtown Portland. I woke up with an uneasy stomach, which was a good sign. It meant I was ready. All I needed now was to puke, and I was good to go.
Tami was in my bed and I watched her sleep. I was still confused about us having sex last week. There was something in the back of my mind trying to puzzle it out. The something was telling me that Tami never did anything without a reason. I hoped the reason was she had been horny and not something else.
She stirred and opened her eyes.
"Morning, what time is it?" she asked.
"Seven, West Coast seven a.m. I'll need to take a nap later so I'm fresh for tonight."
Everything started at five o'clock, tonight. Last year they had worked the guys out until well after midnight. Most of them only got a couple hours sleep before they had to get up and catch the bus to practice the next day. The whole reason for coming early was so I would rest instead of travel and then go right to camp.
"Not running, today?" she asked.
"No. I thought I would stretch, and then take a swim. Maybe you could help distract me."
"'Stupid boy', all you have to do is ask," she said as she ran her hand over my chest.
I leaned over and kissed her as my answer. Tami grasped my member. She rolled me on my back and straddled my waist.
"Condom," I said.
She just smiled at me, and lowered herself on my shaft. She held my eyes daring me to stop her. If she didn't want to use a condom I wasn't about to talk her into it. I wasn't worried about getting an STD from Tami. My only real issue was there was so much more feeling without the condom. I wasn't sure if I would be able to perform to my normal standards. Her tight little pussy felt great as it completely enveloped my shaft.
I put both my hands behind my head, and gave her a lopsided smile.
"Lazy butt," she chastised me.
I just raised an eyebrow, and twitched Mr. Happy. She shook her head, and began to rise and fall on my cock. Tami was moving around until she found a position that gave her the most pleasure. When she found it, she put her hands on my chest to help balance herself, and began to fuck me in earnest. I was watching her tits jiggle as she would come down hard, and grind against me.
I soon felt like I was going to cum. I couldn't sit back any longer, so I snaked one hand between us and found her clit sticking out from its little hood. I wet my finger in her juices and then stimulated her directly. I made little brushing motions back and forth. It caused her to make little whining noises of pleasure.
"You like that?" I asked.
"Uh huh," she panted.
"Cum for me," I ordered.
She doubled her pace.
"Cum for me," I said again.
Her head flopped back, and her mouth gaped open. I saw her upper body and neck go flush. Her nipples could've cut diamonds. Tami shuddered with pleasure as she came on my dick. She ground her pelvis against mine so she could get every bit of pleasure. I grunted as I pumped her full of my baby makers. I had been pretty free with them lately. I had left a deposit in the two girls in Alabama, plus Tami last week and today. If I didn't know that Tami was protected, I would be worried. Plus, she had been the one to explain to me where babies came from. I think we were ten or eleven at the time, and Alan made some outlandish comment. Tami sat Alan, Jeff and me down and explained the facts of life. When we finally had our sex education class, we were impressed she had gotten it right.
Fooling around with the Alabama girls was stupid on my part. I didn't know them from Adam, and yet I'd had unprotected sex. It wasn't normal sex either. The things we did would make you think they were a little free with their bodies. I knew better, and really didn't have a good excuse. I just hoped they were responsible.
Tami hung onto me and wouldn't let me go. We both fell back to sleep with her straddling me and my cock deep within her.
I woke up to Tami drying her hair.
"I'm hungry. After we eat, I have appointments for us in the spa."
It was a little unconventional for a teenage guy to go to a spa, but today was all about relaxing and saving my energy for later. I skipped the more girly stuff, but enjoyed the soaking in scented hot water, followed by a full body massage. Tami had the full treatment. She looked relaxed, and had a glow about her.
She let me go to the pool so I could swim and catch some rays. She talked me into wearing my speedos. I figured she earned it. We had a late lunch by the pool and then it was time for me to go. Family and friends were not allowed to watch tonight's events. So I kissed Tami goodbye, and took a shuttle to the Nike Campus.
As soon as I got on campus, I was assigned a room. My roommate was Doyle Reutter from Madison, Wisconsin. He was the MVP from the Chicago Regional. Doyle was a big boy at six-six and 235 pounds.
"I hear you were the last one selected," Doyle said.
"I was number eighteen. I was happy to get in, and see how I stack up."
"I think it was a nice thing they let a junior into the finals. It gives the younger kids hope when they sign up for Elite 11."
I wasn't sure if he meant it, or if he was trying to get under my skin. His parents showed up then, and he went to talk to them while I unpacked. When I was done I went looking for the guys I knew. I found Flee, Roland and Tim talking to another camper.
"David Dawson, Wes Hunt," Roland said.
Wes was the #1 rated quarterback in this year's senior class. He also had an offer from Alabama that he had verbally accepted. If I went to Alabama, he would be my main competition for three plus years. Wes had been the MVP for the LA camp. He was from Phoenix, Arizona.
Before I could meet Wes, Greg and Tami showed up with Mom and Dad. I introduced them to the guys. Mom gave them a stern look.
"You boys are all older than David. I expect you to look out for him."
I knew she was giving them a hard time, but the looks on their faces was priceless. Roland, being the southern gentleman he was, recovered first.
"Ma'am, it would be our pleasure to watch over David. He is like a little brother to us."
"I'm starting to remember why I never let my Mom come to these things," I grumbled.
One of the coaches came through the lounge, and told us to head to the football field. It was time to show what we were made of. I hugged my family and Tami, and followed the other participants to the field.
Coach Trent had us form a semi-circle with the other coaches and staff gathered behind us. He stepped up front and center to welcome us.
"This is our vision for Elite 11. It's to take this incredible environment, which we call football heaven, and give you the best coaching, the best mentoring, the best opportunity to grow exponentially, mentally, emotionally, and physically, and we get to see it happen.
"Part Camp, Part Competition. It is the premier quarterback development process in America. I think it is bigger than that. It has become a tribe. It is where coaches take their life experiences and pour them into you guys so that you don't make the same mistakes as players and in life.
"In a hundred and twenty-one hours, eleven of you will be asked to be a part of the Elite 11. That will be a tremendous honor for whoever gets invited. One thing I want to make clear to all of you is that getting selected to be on this stage is not the victory. The victory is the journey you are about to embark on. Trust me; this journey will not be like any you have ever been on. It will change your life if you buy into it, and it starts right now," Coach Trent said.
We were all loaded into a bus and taken to a park-like setting.
Coach Simson got us organized for the first event. He paired us with a partner. Flee and I were put together. It looked like they were pairing us by how we were rated, because I suspected Flee and I were picked last. I knew Wes and Doyle were rated the #1 and #2 prospects, and they were paired.
"At the edge of uncomfortable, is where greatness happens. So the first thing we will try to do is take your legs. You will run the obstacle course we have created just for you. Remember, everything counts. We are not just looking for the fastest or the strongest. We are also looking for leaders."
The other eight teams hurried to the start line. I stopped Flee.
"We have to work as a team, and think things through. Let's be sure to talk to each other out on the course, and figure out the best way to do things. A little planning will go a long ways," I said.
Bo had warned me to think things through.
As soon as we reached the start line, they started the race. The first part of the track was winding down the hill to the lake between flags put into the ground. Most of the teams took off in a full sprint.
"Did they tell us how long this run is?" Flee asked.
"No. No, they didn't. Let's pace ourselves as if this is for something longer."
The next stretch of the race was along the beach. Flee, being from Miami, suggested we run along the water's edge. The sand was firmer, there. Only one other team was doing that. The rest were running through three inches of sand. I could see guys were breathing hard after the sprint, and the sand took its toll. Flee and I were starting to catch up to the group.
The next section was through the woods. I think they found the steepest climb they could, and then would wind us back down the hill, only to have us climb it again. This reminded me of the Fell Running I had done in the UK. I was feeling it when we came out of the woods.
The next obstacle was a twelve foot wall. I could probably make the jump and continue, but there was no way Flee could. I could see the wall was a real challenge for the teams. I actually saw guys go over the wall leaving their teammate.
"How about I boost you up and you lean down and help me up?" I asked.
Flee looked relieved. I bent down and made a cup with my two hands. Flee stepped into my hands, and I hoisted him up so he could grab the edge of the wall. He pulled himself up and straddled the wall. He reached down to help me, but I just ran to the wall and put one foot about three feet up and used my momentum to reach the top. I didn't want to pull Flee off his perch.
"Let me go down first," I told him.
I grabbed the ledge and let myself dangle before letting go. I ended up on my ass, but nothing seemed to be injured. I told Flee to do the same, except I was there to grab him and let him down gently. We now had passed three teams after getting by that obstacle. We ran to the next check point, and they had water for us. We stopped for a moment and drank. It gave us a chance to catch our breath. One of the teams we had passed caught up with us and didn't stop.
Flee and I then found ourselves on a paved road. We set a steady pace. It was a good thing we did, because this was three miles. Our slow and steady approach began to pick off teams. We found ourselves in third place, when we entered the next section of the race. This was the home stretch. It was like a traditional obstacle course. We started out having to high step through a grid of ropes. I could feel it in my thighs by this point. Who ever thought up this course was evil.
The next challenge was side-by-side logs which looked slick.
"Grab my hand," I suggested to Flee.
It was a good thing I did, because he about slid off. I was afraid if one of us fell we would pull the other one down. I had to laugh when Roland came sprinting up to catch us and did the splits on the log. If I hadn't been close to the end I would have fallen off. I don't think Roland cared after that if he won or lost.
We handled the rest of the obstacles and finished third. Flee wanted to lie in the grass and rest. I made him get up and stretch. I somehow knew this couldn't be all.
When we all finished, Coach Allen took over.
"Teamwork! Some of you did better than others. Some of you failed miserably. In the first part of your training, tonight, we took your legs. Now we are going to take your upper body. Remember, everything counts! Don't worry about what others are doing. Make sure you're challenging yourself. This camp is designed to make you a better version of yourself. Take full advantage, and remember to work as a team.
They had set up a circuit that had to be run three times. At each stop one of us had to do an exercise, or a challenge. The key was figuring out who had to do what. There were seven stations. The first was rowing machine. You had to row 500 meters. The next station was a rope climb, followed by monkey bars. Then you had to hold two twenty pound dumbbells straight out from your shoulders for sixty seconds. If you failed you had to start over. The next station was twenty chin-ups, and then we had to tackle a twenty-four foot long pipe where you had to go hand over hand to get to the end. If you fell off you had to restart and do it again. Finally, you had to both climb a 20 foot high cargo net, and go down the other side. This course reminded me of the CrossFit Games I had watched on TV.
"What do you think? What are you good at?" I asked Flee.
"You do the rowing, dumbbells, and pole. I'll do the rope climb, monkey bars and chin-ups."
I had never used a rowing machine. It figured out your distance by how hard and quickly you pulled the rope. I watched some of the other guys who seemed to know what they were doing. You needed to use your whole body to pull the rope. After the run, this was nuts. I saw one team switch who was rowing at the half way point. They finished first. Flee said we should stick to our plan.
He had the next two events, the rope climb and then the monkey bars. He was the smallest guy here and he had an advantage in both things. We were first after three stations. I then did the dumbbell lift. Twenty pounds in each hand doesn't sound like much, but after doing the rowing machine, I struggled. My shoulders were shaking when time was called. This was where people started to fail. I couldn't imagine having to go again right now.
Flee flew through the chin-ups. I was now going to tackle the twenty-four foot long pipe. I went hand-over-hand. When I got half way across I was starting to worry my grip was going to give out. I had to stop and hang for a moment to refocus. Flee cheered me on as I was able to finish.
The final challenge was the cargo net. It was a giant V. The problem was you had to stay on top of the ropes because of the angle. It would have been much easier if it was straight up and down. You could have just climbed it like a ladder. Flee and I perfected a crab-walk technique, and finished the challenge.
We were in first place, and raced back to start the second round. It was total gut-check time. My shoulders were killing me. My downfall was the rowing machine. It was something I had never done before, and it was attacking all my muscles at once. I was going to have to get one of these contraptions for my workouts. I had a new found respect for people who participated in this sport.
It wasn't so much the rowing that caused me problems. It was effect it had on my body. This time when I did the dumbbells I failed miserably. I consistently worked with heavier weights with similar exercises, but after rowing, man!
"Can you do it?" Flee asked.
I could tell he was worried. The only good news was that the other teams were struggling, too. I swung my arms around to loosen up my shoulders, and then I shook my arms. I went deep within myself, and willed myself through the minute of torture. When I finished I felt my shoulders wanting to cramp up. I needed to rehydrate, or I was going to be in trouble.
"I think we need some Gatorade," I said.
There was a drink station that everyone seemed to be ignoring. Flee agreed and we drank a couple of cups. I felt better when we went back and finished the second round.
Flee helped me do the rowing for the third round. I thought the poor boy was going to drop on me. We decided I would do the rope climb, because he went second, and needed to catch his breath.
I ran into serious trouble at the dumbbells. My shoulders were shot. I looked over and Coach Trent was watching me to see what I was going to do with this adversity. Bo had warned me they would try and push us out of our comfort zones, and see how I reacted. I had always worked hard, and never thought I would be in this position. I figured I had an edge with my conditioning and strength work. I knew this exercise was meant to cause us to fail, and to see how we faced this failure.
I was surprised when I wanted to give up. My shoulders were on fire. This felt like 60-minutes-of-hell and, just like that, I relaxed. I closed my eyes, and focused on getting my breathing under control. I took deep steady breaths, and centered myself. I had learned this from Cassidy doing Tai Chi. When I felt my control return, I reached down and lifted the dumbbells to my side. I felt my shoulders begin to quiver, but I didn't give up. My right shoulder felt like it was cramping, and the pain was excruciating. But I didn't give up. I focused on my breathing, and tried to ignore the pain. When time was called I would have done a fist pump if I could have raised my hand over my shoulder. I looked over to Coach Trent, and he nodded to me. Everything counts.
When we finished we were in fourth place. Flee convinced me that lying in the grass was okay. I wasn't able to contradict him. I just looked up into the dark sky and was happy we finished.
Coach Fredrick was in charge of the next event, tug-of-war.
"I know you're all tired. It's time to separate the men from the boys. I'm sure you have all tested yourselves playing tug-of-war. This time there is a reward at the end. The winning team gets to pick their receivers first for the session ending seven-on-seven tournament."
Now we were talking. Getting the right receivers could make a huge difference in how you did. I wished I had Bill here to make me look better. I was having happy dreams about what it would mean when I heard Flee and my name called. We were going up against Wes and Doyle. They had nearly fifty pounds on us.
Bo had told me to think things through. I took Flee aside.
"Any ideas?" I asked.
He shook his head. Then I remembered what my Uncle had taught me when dealing with a cow.
"They are going to try and overpower us right at the start. My Uncle taught me when dealing with a difficult cow to square your feet and dig in. Squared up you use both your legs instead of having one behind the other. Our advantage will be that our legs are stronger than their upper bodies. We dig in, and get their initial momentum stopped. Then we work together to start walking backwards," I said.
When we lined up, I saw Wes and Doyle had their feet staggered, and they were leaning forward. I expected they would try and jerk us towards them when we started. I was behind Flee, so I took the rope and hooked it around my waist, so my right hand was on the rope and my other hand held the rope tight to my waist. Flee looked back.
"Remember to stay low," he suggested.
Good point. I squatted down and dug my heels in. Everyone was gathered around cheering us on. I could tell everyone expected Wes and Doyle to make short work of us. On Pull, they did as I expected. They tried to jerk us off balance. What they ended up doing was standing straight up. They didn't have any leverage. All they could do was lean back.
"Now!" I called out.
Flee and I took one step back. This unbalanced the much bigger team, and we began to move back. When the tide turned, the crowd got behind us. Everyone loves an underdog. When we won Flee wanted to celebrate, but I warned him: Everything counts.
We went over and shook hands with the vanquished. Wes took the loss in good spirits. Doyle was incredulous and refused to shake our hands. I saw Coach Trent talking to the other coaches and I felt we were being evaluated in how we handled each situation. I got the feeling it didn't matter if we won or lost. It was how we acted. You had to be a leader regardless if you won or lost.
We ended up winning this portion of the competition. No one figured out our biggest advantage was squaring up, and being able to use both legs equally.
The final task was running sprints. I was glad I had taken it easy, and gotten plenty of rest today. It was nearly three in the morning when we got back to the campus. There was a sign in the lobby that said breakfast was open at six a.m., the training staff was available at seven, and the bus left at eight-thirty.
When I got back to my room, Doyle wouldn't talk to me. He was still pissed he lost. I dug into my duffel bag and found a jar of my trainer's analgesic rub. I worked it into my shoulders and neck. I wanted to be able to throw tomorrow and not be stiff. I set my phone alarm for six and went to sleep.
Monday July 6
I woke up after less than three hours sleep, and dragged my ass out of bed. I felt like I had been hit by a Mack truck. I guess I wasn't in as good of shape as I thought I was. My thighs and butt hurt from running up and down the hills. My shoulders felt like I was an eighty year old man. My hands ached from doing the pole.
I quietly left the room so I could go stand under the hot water in the shower. I smiled when Flee joined me.
"Why are you up so early?" he asked.
"Everything counts," I said what was becoming my mantra for the week. "Why are you up?"
"I have to do more than anyone else to stand out," he said, referring to his size.
We went down to breakfast. The coaches were surprised when we walked in. I didn't know about anyone else, but I was a growing boy who had burnt off a week's worth of calories last night. I was starved. I wasn't really surprised when Flee's plate was packed like mine.
"What now?" Flee asked.
"We go see the trainers."
I went back up to my room and got my rub. The trainers gave Flee and I massages. The combination of the rub and the work the trainers did on us, made us feel almost human again. At eight o'clock I went back to my room.
I debated whether to wake up Doyle or not. I thought it would be petty if I didn't.
"Doyle, DOYLE!"
"What?"
"You have twenty minutes to make the bus," I warned him.
He just grumbled and rolled back over.
Doyle didn't make the bus. It left at 8:30 sharp. We started the morning in the classroom. Coach Allen was going over the playbook. He had software on a big screen TV.
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