Photo Story #73

Coach Branson was one of the most formidable and successful soccer coaches in the state, but despite the fear and respect he instilled in his players, Coach Branson had a secret . . . a secret he'd managed to keep hidden for many years.

It started during Coach's third season when he was asked by the manager of the team to order them new uniforms to shake things up. Coach had crushed on half of his players since the first time he'd met them and he took the opportunity to put them in tight white shorts to go with their blue shirts.

That third season they were just normal white shorts with blue piping, but as the seasons passed, the shorts got tighter and the material got thinner.

Coach would film each game, particularly those matches that took place in the rain, enjoying the way the shorts would hug each curve of the players' butts and thighs. When wet, the shorts would go practically see through and Coach Branson would jerk off over the footage in his office, unable to control himself.

That was until this season when Coach got too greedy.

When ordering the latest uniforms, Coach Branson decided to go for a new material - the thinnest polyester blend he'd ever come across. The shorts arrived and he knew it was a risk as soon as he unpackaged them. The shorts were so thin that he could see his hand through them, but he couldn't resist seeing the team in them, even if it was just once.

It was a Sunday match and it had been raining so much that the pitch was waterlogged. Normally Coach Branson would be forced to call off the match, but the players seemed keen and Coach couldn't resist the urge to try out the new shorts.

The team got changed and immediately asked Coach what was going on, given that they were able to see each other's jockstraps through their shorts.

Coach pretended he knew nothing about it and said that for that one match, it wouldn't matter, and he'd sort the shorts for the following week.

The team were unsure and a little self conscious as they took to the pitch but they did as Coach asked and were soon playing the first half.

Coach Branson had set his cameras up as normal, wanting to capture everything, and this match didn't disappoint.

During the first ten minutes, one of the players slipped over and skidded through the mud. As soon as he stood up, his bare butt cheek was on display. The material was so thin that it shredded like tissue paper.

"Coach, do you want me to sub out?" he asked, running over with one hand over his ass.

"Not unless you want to. There's not many spectators today. Just enjoy the match."

The player blushed a little as he tried adjusting his shorts before nodding and rejoining the match.

By half time, Coach Branson was struggling to hide the hard-on in his own shorts. He could never have dreamed how perfectly things would pan out. Half of the team had their bare asses on show, two had lost their shorts completely - ripped off by other players, and the rest had shorts that were so thin and wet that they left nothing to the imagination anyway.

"Coach, can we change?" one of the younger players asked after Coach's pep talk. "A few of us are feeling a bit exposed out there. These shorts don't leave . . . well, they . . ."

"Everyone can see everything," another said. "You can practically see the shape of our dicks through our jocks."

Coach laughed. "I think you guys need to get a grip. This is soccer. No one watching is interested what's inside your jockstrap. Now get back out there."

As the team left the changing room, the younger one who had questioned changing, spotted the bulge in Coach Branson's short and immediately mentioned it to a few of the other players.

The second half of the match was even better than the first and on top of the team winning, the sight on the field was enough to make Coach Branson cum handsfree in his shorts. Half of the team had their cheeks on show, another three had thighs fully on show and one guy had lost his shorts in a tackle that got a little too rough.

"Hit the showers boys," Coach Branson said as the team reached the edge of the pitch.

The younger player stepped forward. "Before we do Coach, do you mind telling us why you ordered us shorts in this material?"

Coach Branson gulped. "I told you - it was an error with the order."

"Funny that Coach because the last few orders have had thinner and thinner material. Don't you think that's weird?"

Coach started to take a few steps back. "Just hit the showers. Let's get you guys out of the rain."

"Yeah, you probably want to retrieve the cameras."

Coach Branson stopped, his face going pale. "My . . . what?"

"Oh we know what you've been up to Coach? And now it's our turn."

Coach Branson took in the sight of his hunky handsome team in their see through, ripped and torn shorts and felt the panic rise as they stepped towards him. How had they found him out and what the hell were they going to do to him?