Bisexual College Football Players


Two friends getting together for a jolly good time. Is there anything better? I mean, just because we’re college men and college women doesn’t mean we should be too busy to appreciate one another’s company. My name is Jason Slater. A tall, good-looking young black man living in Boston, Massachusetts. I am currently waiting on a bench in Boston Common for my buddy Charles Grey. He’s supposed to show up so we can hang out. It’s getting cold but I’ve got my letterman jacket on me. It keeps me warm and gets some stares from passersby. I’m a student at the New England School of Technology or NEST. I am currently studying engineering and I hope to get a bachelors degree in it before heading to a bigger technical school like the Massachusetts Institute of Technology or Georgia Tech. They’re the best engineering schools on the planet.

The New England School of Technology was founded in 1990 by a philanthropist group. They intended it to be a four-year technical college. The school opened its doors in 1991 with only eleven hundred students. Its curriculum focused on science, computer programming and engineering. Basically a school for the talented geeks of the world. We’re not all geeks here, however. Some of us are athletes. The school sponsors a good number of sports such as Men’s Basketball, Baseball, Soccer, Lacrosse, Cross Country, Swimming, Rugby, Wrestling, Ice Hockey, Football and Bowling. They also offer Women’s Basketball, Softball, Soccer, Lacrosse, Cross Country, Swimming, Rugby, Field Hockey, Ice Hockey, Bowling and Badminton. All of our teams compete in the National Collegiate Athletic Association’s Division Three.

Myself, I’m a member of the Football team. Lately, I’ve been on the news a lot. Mainly because I’m an openly bisexual athlete playing one of the world’s manliest sports. I’ve been on ESPN Magazine and Sports Illustrated as well as the cover of the Advocate. I don’t know what the fuss is about. I’m pretty sure plenty of gay and bisexual men have played college sports before, but I guess none of them were open about it. Some guys on the team weren’t keen about having a bisexual man for a teammate but whatever. I was the best damn running back on the team. And I saw plenty of playing time. Oh, and I always stick up for myself. I grew up in a tough neighborhood. Big guys in tights don’t intimidate me.

Division Three College Football is big business. Lots of small colleges are starting teams left and right. Mainly to boost male collegiate enrollment but also to beef up slacking athletic programs. At the New England School of Technology, we don’t have that problem. Fifty percent of our students are male and fifty percent are female. It’s the way the collegiate American world should be. It’s the way it would be if politically correct administrators and educators hadn’t abandoned the American male in higher education. Oh, well. I hate to get all political, you know. It’s just that I’ve got friends at other colleges who complain to me when their schools cut sports teams to please federal gender quotas. It makes me sick.

Anyway, life at NEST was alright. It’s mostly a commuter campus. The school has four dorm buildings, and they can occupy one hundred and twenty students each. It’s a first-come, first serve basis. The dorms are either all-male or all-female. NEST doesn’t believe in mixing and matching, I guess. I was lucky enough to get a single occupant dorm room. Isn’t that nice? I’m not big on living with people. I grew up with a big family. My father Lucas Slater and his wife Mildred had five brats. Three guys and two chicks. I was the youngest of the guys. We’re a blue-collar black family. Dad is a policeman in Boston. Mom is a schoolteacher operating in Boston Public. My other siblings are a bunch of freeloaders. I’m not saying this to put them down. It’s simply the damn truth.

Take my eldest brother Leroy for example. He won himself a Basketball scholarship to Boston University when I was still in high school. He got his Associate’s degree in business but blew his chances away during his junior year when he got caught with booze and women of questionable repute in his dorm. He’s a punk. Works as a manager for a store. When he’s not chasing women or drinking, that is. My brother Jonathan has a criminal justice degree from Bay State College and is currently working as a corrections officer in Plymouth County. He’s usually Kayseri Escort a straight-laced man, but he has quite a temper. He recently got suspended from work for beating on a prisoner. My sister Elisabeth is the family whore. Sorry for being harsh. Once, she had potential. She won a scholarship to Bridgewater State College. She got her bachelors degree. Then she couldn’t get a job and started dealing drugs and fighting on the streets. Got locked up for it, too. She’s got three brats by different dads and she’s living on welfare when she’s not begging mom and dad for money. My other sister Linda is just your average corporate litigator. A graduate of the Suffolk Law School, she currently works for a large firm in downtown Boston. She’s considered a success story by our friends and family but she’s a scary woman. My sister has no conscience. She’s a sociopath. A remorseless manipulator. The less I see of her, the better.

Yeah. Now you see what I have to put up with. My relatives and friends are always bugging me about my lifestyle. Many black people don’t approve of gay and bisexual individuals. They think we’re all sinners and freaks. Oh, there are lots of homophobes in all communities but the black community is one hundred percent homophobic. No ifs, ands or buts about it. I don’t care. I’m a man with one life to live. I’ve got things I want to accomplish. And I’ve done most of them. I was a member of a Championship Team in All-American Division Three College Football. Few men can make that claim. I’m also a top notch student in my program. I always make High Honor Roll/Dean’s List. You need to have a 3.09 GPA to even be considered. I was one of five males out of eleven Dean’s List students and the only black person. How about that?

Yeah. The semester is ending. My grades are pretty good. But now I want to reconnect with an old friend. I’ve known Charles my entire life. We met on our first day at Boston College High School, an all-male private school in Boston. He went on to attend Boston College. I chose NEST because they offered me an academic scholarship and also because they were just starting a Division Three College Football team. I wanted to be a part of history, so to speak. Charles went to Boston College and majored in Criminal Justice. He wants to become a cop someday. My father has always encouraged him in that area. I sometimes think my dad sees Chuck as the ideal son he never had. Part of me doesn’t blame him for it. If he did. Two of my father’s sons are on the dark side and the third is queer, which in the black community is considered worse than being a criminal.

Charles has always been my buddy. He always had my back. We have a lot more in common than what people think. For starters, he’s bisexual, just like me. One time, we had a crush on the same female. A tall, thick, pretty-faced and big-bottomed black woman named Donna Woonsocket. She was fine as hell. We met her during senior year at BCHS. She was a teacher’s assistant. Man, we were competing for her. Charles won her over. I could see why. Charles is tall, curly-haired, caramel-skinned and both lean and muscular. He’s also very handsome. Women were always falling for him. I caught him and Donna in the library together.

There she was, the gorgeous teacher’s assistant. Her skirt were hiked up and she was grinding on top of a muscular young black man. Charles stroked her breasts while thrusting his cock into her. She screamed loud enough to wake the dead, telling him to take that pussy and fuck it good with his big black cock. Charles groaned in pleasure as he had his fun. They exchanged cuss words as they continued to romp away. Neither of them had seen me. This both saddened and thrilled me. It saddened me because my best friend had just stolen the woman I had a crush on. It thrilled me because I was a horny young man watching a live sex scene. With a raging boner, I couldn’t simply turn away. I watched as Charles put Donna on all fours and began fucking her from behind. She was grinding that plump booty of hers against his groin, driving him deeper inside her. They happily romped away. I watched until it ended, then I went home, my mind a blank.

Yes, Charles had won the girl. He always won at everything. When we played football for BCHS, he was the quarterback while I was the second-string lineman. He won an athletic scholarship to Boston College and Kayseri Escort Bayan got to fulfill many men’s dream, to play Division One College Football in America. As for me? I went to NEST, to shine privately. I still loved Charles, but I thought he was straight. He was the first person I talked about my emerging bisexuality with. I poured my heart to him and he listened in silence. He nodded understandingly at the end, and clapped my shoulder. He told me I wasn’t alone. I was elated. I thought myself the solitary bisexual man with an understanding heterosexual best male friend. Until the day I caught him kissing a handsome young man named Henry in the church bathroom. You have to understand that I wasn’t mad. I was simply shocked. Charles seemed like the straightest man in the world. He was a football player. He had women flocking to him. So, why would I, or anyone else think he was anything other than heterosexual?

I ran from the bathroom. I went out of the church and into the garden. Near the church parking lot. My whole world had turned upside down. Charles, my best buddy was bisexual? And he’d rather be messing around with the likes of Henry the pretty boy than be with me, his best friend? This royally sucks! I was so upset that I didn’t see Charles come up behind me. There he was. The tall, handsome black stud. He looked at me shyly. I stared at him. He smiled, and approached me. Without a single word, he sat on the rough stone bench under the tree and looked at me. I had so many questions. Why hadn’t he told me his secret? I told him mine! Why was he hiding from me? And out of all the men in the world, why did he choose Henry to get his freak on with?

Charles smiled at me, and I felt my anger melt away. Then, in a few painful words, he told me. He wasn’t keen on people finding out about his bisexuality. He didn’t consider what he was doing to be anyone’s business. And he trusted no one. I stared at him, blinking. Why in hell did he have me, his best friend for? With a bright smile, Charles said that I was the exception in his book. Then, he hugged me. In that moment, I forgave him everything. I forgot about his dalliances with Donna and Henry. He had returned to me, and we were closer than ever. Especially now that I knew we were the same kind.

Since that day, we became inseparable. When Charles family helped him move into his dorm at Boston College, I was there to greet his dad, fireman Julian Grey and his mom, bartender Charlene. I’ve known them all my life. I always stayed in touch with Charles. He told me about his new classes, experiences and love interests. He was sexing up a large number of women at Boston College. Being such a stud, he had his pick of them. Also, playing Football was a source of much joy in his life. I attended all of his games. He came to some of mine. When the NEST Football team took on Bridgewater State College, Charles was there to support me, along with my family. Isn’t that cool? We were always there for each other. I think we only began to fall apart when I came out.

A gay student I was friends with took a beating from some homophobes on NEST school grounds. I couldn’t believe it. Homophobes moved about brazenly on a college campus in the most liberal state in the Union. I mean, same-sex marriage was legal in Massachusetts and everything yet these lunatics still preyed upon solitary gay men and occasionally lesbians and bisexual men and women. I fought them off, but sustained an injury. Also, the poor guy had already suffered many injuries when I got there. I’m not sure how much help I was. When the reporters came, I had plenty to say to them. I was angry. The media loved it. A college football player defending a gay student from some homophobes. They were praising me for being open-minded and decent. They also commented that I was a shining example of how football players could stand up against homophobia. I should have gone along with the story and kept my mouth shut. Instead, in three simple words, I changed my own life forever. I told the reporters that I was bisexual. And the world of college football in America would never be the same.

To say that my parents were shocked would have been an understatement. They really didn’t like finding out about me. They thought it was their fault that I was queer. Also, they saw my bisexuality as something that needed to be cured or suppressed. Escort Kayseri For reasons like these, I broke contact with them for a while. My teammates from football looked at me weirdly. I had gone from the invisible man on the gridiron, the freshman running back, to the public face of the team. The media dubbed me the First Openly Bisexual College Football Player in America. I was approached by men and women from various walks of life. Some congratulated me on being brave. Others hated my guts and said I was a disgrace to college football. And I was alone weathering this storm.

Charles came to the rescue, if a bit late. He had been talking to my family and tried drilling into their heads that no matter which way I swung, I was still their son. Honestly, I don’t know what the big deal is about. I felt attracted to both men and women. I didn’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend. Hell, I’ve never even had sex with anyone. I’m getting so much flack from all directions, yet I’ve never done the things they said I did. That’s when I realized that being bisexual was who and what I am, not what I did. You could be a virgin, or celibate, and be heterosexual, right? Likewise why can’t a bisexual man be a virgin, or celibate, and still be bisexual? That’s what I’d like to know. So, yeah. Charles basically helped reunite me with my family. It was a long, painful process.

Eventually, the media stopped with all their hoopla. I went back to my normal life. Yes, tons of people knew I was bisexual. Yes, I’d been on TV dozens of times. On everything from ESPN to Sports Center. I’d also been profiled in a dozen magazines, both mainstream and not. My pictures were all over the web. I was photographed wearing my football uniform, and also wearing simple jeans and a T-shirt. I was photographed at church, school and anywhere else. The media ate it up. Until the next big story came along. Then, I was left alone. However, the damage was done. People treated me differently after that. Lots of black women on campus, who had previously flirted with me, gave me dubious looks. Young black men I usually exchanged greetings with would shake their heads when they saw me. I was suddenly persona unwanted on campus. Whatever.

Charles was there to help me weather the crisis. It took a lot out of him. To stand beside his best friend, the recently ousted bisexual black college football player. Anyway, slowly things got back to tomorrow. My fifteen minutes of fame were over. Charles was busy with class, football and his social life but he made time for me. He was dating this girl named Rosa Santiago, some Hispanic bombshell from Boston College. I never met her. He split up with her after three months. I was feeling lonely those days, you know. My teammates weren’t feeling me. My family members were polite and distant with me. I basically had no friends. Once again, Charles was the only person I could turn to. Once, on the phone, I opened up to him. I thanked him for being the only person I’d ever been able to count on. Then, I took a leap of faith. I told him that I loved him. There was a silence at the end of the line. I waited, anxious. Had I done something wrong? Should I have kept my feelings to myself? I waited. Finally, Charles broke the silence. He told me that he loved me too. When I heard these words, it was one of the best moments of my life.

Which brings me back to Boston Common. The place where we agreed to meet. I waited on the park bench. Watching men and women go by in their cars. There was a church nearby. I looked at its clock, then shook my head. Then, I began the waiting game all over again. Until I saw…him. There he was. Charles. My Charles. My tall and handsome black stud, looking fabulous and manly in a black leather jacket, blue shirt, black jeans and boots. I stood up, and walked up to him. He smiled at me. I walked deliberately slow, showing off my sexy body. Charles grinned, clearly liking what he saw.

We stood two feet away from each other. Two sexy black college men. Football players. Star athletes. Super studs. Intellectual luminaries. Best friends. And possibly more. Without a word being spoken, we kissed. It was a deep, passionate kiss. Right there on Boston Common, for all the world to see. When our lips parted, I looked at Charles breathlessly. He smiled, and put his arm around me. Then we headed to the nearby movie theater. He had a whole day planned. There was so much I wanted to tell him. As if reading my mind, he told me that we had all the time in the world. And he was right. We did. I had no idea back then but I should have known. This was the beginning of the rest of our lives together.

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