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New job for chris booth

leewise

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NEW JOB FOR CHRIS BOOTH

A fantasy story about England's famous soccer and cricket stars.

So, I had just gained my degree, having been sponsored by a major pharmaceutical company and had now been given an exciting six month placement at a company which tested and investigated drugs and doping in English Football, Cricket, Rugby and Athletics. A permanent position looked likely and I had been all but assured of a permanent job.

I was on the train travelling for my first day at WSM Ant-Doping, and was really looking forward to finding out exactly what role I would play. I was guessing that I would be analyzing various samples and determining whether athletes were legitimate or not. Probably lots of tests, lots of waiting about, lots of paperwork and not a lot more. That’s what looked likely.

I arrived at 8.30am – half an hour before I was due to start, and reported to Simon Collier, as I had been instructed. He was a guy aged about 35, seemed quite friendly and personable, and looked quite genuine as he stretched out his hand and said, “Boy, am I pleased to see you Chris. We have been really under-staffed of late, and I just know that you are going to be a big success here, having read your files. I have been trying to fulfil three roles instead of one just lately, so you are going to be a big help.”

There were 45 people working at this smallish two story office / laboratory. I was given all the facts during a lightening tour of the place, as I was invited to shake hands with many people whose names I immediately forgot. At 21 years old, it seemed that I was amongst the youngest.
After an induction meeting with a Human Resources lady, another tour of the facility, an introduction to the company’s rules and being told what their expectations of me would be, I was fired up and ready for work !
I was guided back to Simon’s office – he insisted that I call him Simon – and I sat there silently whilst he attended to some seemingly pressing and important matters. He did seem to be a very busy man.

It was now about 11am.

“Okay Chris, whilst we have got many hundreds of samples outstanding for analysis, and that will normally be your area of work, I should think, but I have had two people call in sick today who would normally assist me out in the field, as it were, and so I am desperately short of testers. I will need you to accompany me today to help carry out some doping tests on players. I will explain the procedure when we are in the car, but it is quite simple and you will not have any problems picking it up, I am confident, and it will be good experience for you.” he explained.

“Great, that sounds good. Let’s get going!” I enthusiastically replied.
“There’s nothing like hitting the ground running, Chris, so just bear with me and I will be ready to go very very soon,” he advised me.

Ten or fifteen minutes later we were in the car heading to god knows where. I waited patiently for further information.

“Okay Chris, so we have got a journey of about an hour and a half ahead of us. We are going to London and today we have got two assignments, instead of our normal one, which is crazy as we really can’t be forced into rushing these tasks. The tests are so important and any deficiency in our tests can lead to legal matters if protocol is not fully followed,” he started.

“We have got two very important contracts which I mainly handle. One is with the ECB – the English Test and Country Cricket Board - and the other is with the English FA covering the Premier League and Football League. Today we need to arrive unannounced at the England Cricket training ground and test six cricketers without their knowledge that we are due to test them, and then afterwards we will then have to head over to test six unsuspecting Arsenal footballers. “Amazing,” was all that I could say.

“Well, don’t get star-struck. You have to remain professional throughout. What I propose to do is to have you just sit and watch how I carry out the test on the first cricketer, and then I will let you take it from there on the other five players. Whilst you are doing that, I can head over to Arsenal’s training ground to start the tests there to save us a bit of time. We have got so much to get through today, and it is almost impossible with the staff shortages. You should probably finish before me, so I will give you the phone number for a London taxi company that we have a contract with, and you can then meet me over at Arsenal to maximise time. You would just have to say at reception that you are due to meet me, and they will bring you to me That way we can do twice the work in the same time. Is that okay with you?,” asked Simon.

“Yes, of course I am willing to learn and pick things up very quickly. You won’t need to tell me things twice,” I assured him.

At a little after 11.15 AM we set off to London and arrived at the England cricket team’s training ground at around 12.30 – we made decent time. All the way on the journey Simon was giving me more background on the company and my specific role. He also gave me further information on what would happen today, and to be honest, I was cool with what I was expected to do. It didn’t seem like rocket science, and seeing that I had expected to be chained to a desk all the time, this “outing” was a pleasant surprise. I would perhaps even get to meet some famous players!

We parked up and headed to the reception where a portly middle-aged women appeared a little flustered when she spotted Simon, who she obviously knew from previous “spot” visits.

“Oh hello Mr Collier. You are back again! It doesn’t seem five minutes since you were here,” she said, purely to make conversation.
“Well, Maggie, it has been six months, so I am a little overdue a visit,” said Simon.

“Okay, would you like a coffee”? She enquired.

No thanks, we need to get straight down to things please. Would you please let Mr Bayliss know that we have arrived and will need to test six players today? He asked, at no point trying to introduce me to the receptionist. All strictly business-like.

We sat in reception for around ten minutes before one of the team manager Mr Bayliss’s staff arrived and shook Simon’s hand. Simon finally introduced me, as “Chris, my assistant”, which sounded good, and we were motioned to follow the coach, who was called Phil, but I had never heard of before.

The Manager met us in the England dressing room and after yet more niceties, idle conversation and another offer of coffee, he enquired as to which players Simon needed him to make available.
“Oh yes, that might help. Can you please get –in this order – Scott Borthwick, Liam Plunkett, Ben Stokes, Stuart Broad, Joe Root and Steve Finn, please?” requested Simon. I was amazed at how high profile the players to be tested were.

“Okay, no problem at all. I will get one of my coaches to get them to wait just outside the dressing room and wait to be called by you. Give me five minutes or so,” said Mr Bayliss.

It seemed that whatever Simon wanted, he got. No-one wanted to piss him off in any way, and it was clear that Simon knew this, despite the “celebrity” status of the players involved. Almost bang on time, we heard voices outside the dressing room and a knock advised us that the players were assembled outside.

There was a brief knock at the door, and in walks the first player. Scott Borthwick smiles a friendly smile at Simon and shakes his hand firmly. I notice that he has cute dimples when he smiles, and although his file tells us that he is 25 years old, he looks more like a teenager, incredibly youthful and slim. Scott is maybe six foot tall, and talks with a north-east accent, having been born in Sunderland. He has only played one game for England so far but has been named in the squad and will obviously be hopeful of earning a place in the upcoming test series against West Indies. He is wearing a white training top with the England logo on it, tracksuit bottoms and white trainers.

“Scott, this is Chris, who will be assisting me today,” he introduces me. I get an equally firm handshake accompanied again by that boyish smile.
“Right Scott, let’s get down to business. I think that you know the drill by now, having been tested previously. Firstly I am going to prick your finger slightly and take a blood sample for analysis. Can you let me have your right hand, first finger please ? “ said Simon, popping on sterile gloves.
Simon took the blood sample, talking me through everything as he did it, and labelled and placed the sample safely in a carrying case that he had brought, designed to fit all the players’ blood samples in.

“Next up, this may be new to you Scott. We now do hair analysis also on each player, so young Chris here is going to just remove one or two of your head hairs with some tweezers so that we can check these for the presence of drugs or performance enhancing substances,” explained Simon.
I put on my sterile gloves, nervously approaching the player and plucked two of Scott’s hairs from his immaculately coiffured hair – even after a sweaty training session. His hair was just a bit darker than blond but it obviously wasn’t his natural colour. It was parted on the right and brushed back off his forehead, presumably with gel, I thought.

“Thanks, Scott,” was all I could think to say.

“Right, Scott. Now we are onto the urine sample. Are you feeling like you can give us one straight away?”, asked Simon.

“Well, I haven’t had a pee for a while, so I will give it a go,” said the handsome cricketer, as Simon handed him a large plastic bottle with a very wide opening to pee into. Simon had previously informed me in the car that the players were required to urinate in front of us, so I was guessing that I was going to get a peek of his cock.

As soon as he took possession of the pot, he did no more than whip down his tracksuit bottoms and stood there in front of us with his jockstrap on. He must have been batting during practice. He reached into the jockstrap and pulled out his box –or abdominal guard to give it it’s proper name.
He then put his thumbs in the waistband and pulled down his jockstrap to just above his knees.

His penis and testicles were on full view to the both of us, and Scott wasn’t remotely embarrassed or distressed by this fact. His penis was sizeable, fat and un-cut. He had maybe four inches in a limp state and I noticed that his left testicle hung much lower than his right one. He had shaved his pubic hair, so that it was virtually non-existent, which just served to make him look even younger than he actually was.

He flopped his penis just over the bottle, but no pee began to flow. He teased his foreskin back and held it back. Still no pee. After maybe five minutes of trying but failing to pee and an embarrassing silence, during which all three of us stared at his dick and made idle chat, he decided that he had better drink some more liquids to assist him. Rather than hitch up his jockstrap and trackie bottoms, he began to untie his trainers, and took them off, along with his socks, tracksuit bottoms and jockstrap.

The young England player then stood up, wearing just his training top, and walked over to the fridge in the corner of the room where there was a large stash of bottled water, and began drinking. No inhibitions or worries about his body with this man! I took in his exquisite backside.

“Simon, how would it be if I took a shower whilst I wait for the water to work it’s magic, and you can get on with the next player ?,” asked Scott with his penis and low hangers swinging about as he walked back towards us.
“Well, I have got to go over to Arsenal’s training ground now and test a few of the high and mighty Arsenal stars pretty soon, so young Chris can take over from here. But yes, I don’t see any problem with that. Just make it known when you are ready to Chris, and we can get your test finished and the paperwork signed off,” said Simon as Scott carried on gulping the water with his testicles still swinging about as he stood in front of us.

“So Chris, you know what you are doing. Are you okay if I disappear to Arsenal and you can finish off here ?” asked Simon, but already knowing the answer.

“Yes of course, Simon. No problem, “ I replied confidently.
“Good, then I will send in Liam Plunkett on my way out,” said Simon as he got up, shook the hand of the now totally naked Scott Borthwick and disappeared.

Scott then walked up to me and said, ”It shouldn’t take me too long to provide a sample. If I just have a shower I reckon I will be okay after that,” playing with his balls and cock as he talked to me. He was now stood totally naked in front of me. His chest was sculpted like a God. He had six packs on his six pack, and there was not a single chest hair in sight. This man is a fanatical body shaver, I came to this conclusion, although I suppose he could just have been naturally hairless.

“Okay, no problem,” I managed as I watched him adjusting his bollocks and cock again, the way that blokes do. I got a fantastic view of his perfect bubble butt again as he turned and disappeared to the showers.
Just at that moment, Liam Plunkett walked through the dressing room door, and once again I was met by a north-east accent. Liam was born in Nunthorpe, a district of Middlesbrough but currently plays his cricket for Yorkshire. Now aged 30, he has been around for a while but still looks a young man, even to this 21 year old. He has played in 13 test matches and been playing cricket for ten years. At 6 feet 3 inches tall, he towered above me. He was wearing an England training T-Shirt, shorts which showed off his particularly hairy legs and flip-flops.

“Hello, I’m Liam”, he says offering a handshake.

“Pleased to meet you Liam, I’m Chris” I weakly replied.

“Not seen you here before Chris, are you new?” he asked.

“Relatively new,” I lied.

Liam was more of a rugged “man” than Scott. A big thick facial stubble than seemed to continue down way his neck. He looks like he needs a shave every few hours. Liam has an interesting, almost cute but lived-in face.
I got down to the blood and hair samples quickly and then sheepishly picked up the plastic receptacle.

“Liam, are you able to give me a urine sample please,” I said trying to sound assertive.

“Yes, no problem. I am bursting for a pee, I bet that pussy Borthwick hasn’t managed one, has he?” he said smiling.

“No. he hasn’t yet,” I told him.

Liam then emulated Scott by just pulling down his shorts and removing them totally, exposing his nether regions to me.

Liam’s penis was slimmer than Scott’s, but maybe a bit longer and his foreskin was particularly long, slack skin going maybe upto an inch past his cock. His balls were large but a little tighter up towards his penis than Scott’s but they were covered in thick hair, and his mass of pubes seemed untrimmed. He is quite a hairy man downstairs! Within seconds Liam was urinating into the pot. In fact he had to stop, as he was in danger of over-filling it.

He handed me his sample, pulled his shorts back up and waited for further instructions.

I handed him the relevant form to sign, which said that he agreed the test had been carried out according to protocol. He signed it, stood up, shook my hand and disappeared to finish off pissing.

“Is it okay if I have a shower now. I won’t be in your way, will I ?” he asked. The entrance to the showers were further down the dressing room and he could already hear the sound of Scott showering out of sight.

“No, it’s not a problem Liam,” I said, looking forward to seeing him strip completely in front of me, as well.

“In fact, the other lads who are waiting were wondering if they could come in and shower too, before having the test, so that they beat the other lads when they get back?,” he asked.

Normally, there was supposed to be privacy for the tests, Simon had informed me, but so long as the players didn’t mind and they had signed the correct paperwork, I didn’t see what harm it could do. In addition I got to see six hunky England players strip naked and shower in front of me, instead of two!

I nodded my agreement silently.

Liam opened the door and shouted, ”Aye, come in lads.”

So in trooped Ben Stokes, Stuart Broad, Joe Root and Steve Finn.

All of them approached my table immediately, said their names –like I didn’t already know- and offered to shake my hand. They were all pretty talkative, asking me how long I had been with WSM, whether I liked cricket –I do- and were generally friendly. Not at all like I imagined, no air of self-importance at all. The conversation was genuine and went on for a little while.

Then one by one they turned away from me, went over to the lockers and began removing their clothes. This felt weird! Well known celebrities who were on television regularly, just stripping naked in front of me. My new job seemed to give me this ‘right’ to be a voyeur of naked celebrities!
There was Ben Stokes, who’s file told me that he was 24 years old and stood at 6 feet tall. What it didn’t say was that he was ginger haired –all over, solidly built and arms and shoulders covered in tattoos. A really polite guy who was just so solid everywhere! Massive arms, thighs, calves and an ass to die for! Wispy ginger hair on his legs and a very acceptable looking set of cock and balls.

I asked him about his many tattoos, and he walked back over to me –naked- to point out each one he had. So many parts of his body to look at!
I was in awe of Stuart Broad and Steve Finn, who stood at 6’ 6” and 6’ 7” respectively. They are massively tall guys! Stuart is a very well spoken, educated man who, at 29 years old, looks much younger. His hair has been anything from blond to brown over the past ten or so years whilst playing for his hometown club Nottinghamshire, but today it was fairly dark in colour, matching his ample facial stubble, which really suited him. It looked like he hadn’t shaved for quite a few days but he looked very handsome with it. Steve Finn has a lovely smile and really dark piercing eyes, not as pretty as Stuart, but a real man. Arms like tree trunks, and thighs matching. The longest legs that I have ever seen too.

Stuart’s body is not particularly hairy. He has tiny little nipples and does sport some chest hair, perhaps having shaved his chest previously but his legs are only moderately hairy. Steve’s arms and biceps are amazingly big, his body, like Stuart’s, is just perfect muscle-wise with big powerful thighs. Both players have legs that seemed to reach all the way upto my nipples! Really long legs, Steve’s backside being much hairier than Stuart’s. Penis-wise, Stuart had low hanging balls, trimmed dark pubes and a moderate but fat uncut penis. Maybe it was the sheer length of his legs than made his dick look smaller?

Steve Finn’s penis was sculpted like that of a roman statue. Beautifully shaped, a decent size and a really big bell-end that was covered by a long foreskin. I couldn’t help imagining just how huge he would be when erect. His pubes were longer and more plentiful than Broad’s. Gladly, neither player possessed any tattoos, which seemed to suit their exquisite bodies.

Finally there was little sweet Joe Root. Well not so small standing at six foot, but Yorkshire’s Joe Root still looks like a little boy even though he is now 24. He is shaving, but I am not convinced that he could grow a full beard. He has such a slight slim body, with massive biceps once again – a regular theme with these handsome cricketers - and his arms, legs and buttocks are particularly hairy, but a fine blond hair, which I really hadn’t expected. His chest though is completely smooth with quite large dark nipples that you just can’t help but stare at. Shaved perhaps? He also possesses about four very noticeable birthmarks on his neck and a couple on his chest. His private parts are expertly groomed. Trimmed short pubes and low hanging testicles that also looked devoid of much hair. His penis is uncut and very impressive indeed. You know what they say about things that come in small packages. No small package with this guy. A long slim member that could no doubt satisfy any woman and he probably gets more than his choice of ladies! Again a complete lack of tattoos anywhere on his body suits him perfectly.

So, after taking Scott’s lead and drinking some water to help bring on the need to urinate, as they all trooped off to the showers, I began to wonder whether I could be in trouble for allowing this “group” testing, but how would WSM ever find out? With that thought, back walked Scott from the showers, not even wearing a towel. His member swung about excessively again as he walked upto me.

“Right, I think I can piss now, Chris,” he said in his broadest Sunderland accent.

I handed him the receptacle and he pulled back his foreskin and almost immediately began his flow of urine, with a big beam on his face – those dimples were back! He was pleased that he was able to stand naked and piss in front of this total stranger- how bizarre I thought! I noticed that his left testicle seemed to hang even lower now that he had showered and that he liked to piss holding his dick with his right hand.

Taking the lead from Simon earlier, I said to Scott, “I see that Sunderland are doing pretty poorly this season,” knowing that he was a big fan of Sunderland FC. Discussing football whilst a famous cricketer piss naked in front of me seemed the thing to do!

“Yeah, we are going to struggle again this year. I don’t know if Sam Allardyce will be able to turn things around, to be honest. I just hope that we don’t go down and Newcastle stay up!,” he said with a passion.

He now shook a few drops off the end of his cock, stretched his dick a bit to make sure there was no stray piss, as blokes do, and let it flop back down between his legs.

“All done mate,” he said as he handed me his bottle of warm piss.
“Thanks Scott, now can I please just ask you to sign this form, saying that you agree that everything has been carried out according to the rules?” I asked.

“Sure Chris, no worries,” he said as he reached for the pen and signed my form.

With that, he thanked me again, shook my hand again and turned to go and get dressed.

I watched his pert bottom all the way back to his locker. His backside really was to die for.

I also noticed that, as he bent down to put something in his bag, his on view man hole was particularly hairy. How come such a hairless guy has a really hairy hole, I thought ?

Next out of the shower was Ben Stokes, who also walked straight upto me naked, saying
“Give me that bottle quick please, lad” and, without a hesitation, a massive flow of piss began to hit the inside of the bottle. They all seemed quite at ease with this stranger watching them piss.

Ben too held his cock with his right hand and his biceps in his left arm seemed to bulge massively as he held the pot of piss. What a lovely sight. His ginger body hair also showed up much more, still being quite wet after the shower. Ben also looked up and smiled at me as he stood pissing.
Finished, he rolled his foreskin up and down, shook off the drops and smiled at me again, looking extremely pleased (probably relieved) that he had got the sample done and out of the way. He signed my paperwork and went over to join Scott getting dressed.

Next out was Stuart, who wore a towel around his middle as he walked over to me, only to discard it completely as he approached me. It was surreal, here was the England T20 Captain standing completely naked in front of me and about to piss for me.

“I think I am ready too!”, he said as he grabbed the bottle, simultaneously asking me where I lived, whether I was married, had I seen England play recently etc.

He guided his tool into the pot, with most of his cock settling inside the bottle and held it with his left hand, I noticed. His biceps really were impressive, and his body hair looked greater wet. His head hair looked great wet. His legs had a good covering of hair and I noticed that his feet were strangely very hairy too.

There were shouts from the other lads of “Come on Malfoy, you can do it” which apparently was Stuart’s nick-name in the dressing room. But he couldn’t do it. Stuart had to give up and go and drink some more water. He decided that he would get dressed anyway and come back to me and try again a little later. Again as he too bent over whilst dressing, I noticed just how very low Stuart’s balls dangled between his legs. They really were low hangers! That can’t be good when you are running in to bowl, can it, swinging about excessively? Now there’s a story for The Sun newspaper!
Another player was now walking up to my table. Steve Finn was totally naked, still wet from the shower, and grabbed hold of his cock and balls as he walked through the dressing room. He let go on arriving with me and pronounced himself ready to perform, to use his words. Born in Watford, Steve’s southern accent sounded quite strong to me, as a northerner. He didn’t retract his long foreskin back but instead just flopped his penis into the bottle and immediately began to pee. He maybe only managed an inch or so of piss in total, but I knew from what Simon had told me in the car that there would be sufficient for testing.

As I sat in my chair, Steve’s cock had more or less been at eye level with me, so I got a very good view indeed of his veiny member. He signed my form as requested and disappeared. Next time I saw him he would be fully clothed, on TV and conducting an interview for millions of people, I thought!
Finally Liam walked across the dressing room to loud cheers. Apparently he had needed to take a shit and had polluted the air in the shower area! Having already peed for me, he just went straight to get dressed, but again the water had accentuated his hairiness and his chest, legs, bum and lower back looked so very hairy – and sexy.

That only left Stuart to return – and Joe Root. Joe arrived soon enough and he also walked across the dressing room draped in a towel for modesty. He put his shower gel next to his locker and crossed the dressing room to me, saying “Right Chris, I think I am ready,” before removing the towel to expose what looked to me to be a semi-erection. His penis was definitely even bigger than before he went in the shower. Was that why he crossed the dressing room in the towel, to hide it from his team-mates?
Joe clutched the bottle with his left hand, guided his dick towards the pot with his right hand and then strangely grabbed hold of his low dangly balls whilst he was pissing. I wasn’t complaining.

He looked down at the pot the entire time, and eventually some piss began to flow. He actually filled the pot to within a centimetre of the top! Good lad, Joe.

He signed my form, shook my hand, winked at me and disappeared back to his locker. I reckon that the wink was confirmation that he had been sporting a stiffy that he didn’t want ridiculing about by the others. I will always think of that when I see Joe on TV – and his unexpectedly hairy body.
I had seen Stuart continue to drink bottled water at a rapid rate over the last half hour or so, and he now sat fully dressed, in jeans and a smart designer shirt.

There was suddenly a knock at the door and the England Manager Trevor Bayliss, came in, shook my hand and asked MY permission for his other players to enter THEIR changing rooms for a shower.

It seemed very weird but of course I agreed without hesitation!

So in trooped the likes of Alastair Cook, Eoin Morgan, James Anderson, Ian Bell and Joss Buttler, who all began disrobing despite the presence of a complete stranger. Only (the very hairy) Alastair Cook came over and introduced himself to me, which I thought was a nice touch.

Finally Stuart Broad approached me again and motioned for me to pass him the receptacle.

He unzipped his jeans, slid out his penis and immediately began a big long piss, sporting a big smile of relief on his face. “I really hate having to piss to order, it’s so difficult” he said.

“Yes, I know what you mean,” I said.

He popped his dick back into his jeans, signed my forms, shook my hand, strangely thanked me and disappeared back amongst his team-mates. I had shook hands with so many men who had just had their cock in their hand, I wondered how many germs my hands now carried. I didn’t care !!!!
I had made sure that each pot was clearly marked on the side of the receptacle and also the lid with the player’s name. I packed them all into the carrying case, said a general, “Thanks everyone” to the room as I was leaving and was just about to disappear when Stuart shouted to me, “Chris, do you want someone to take your photo with all the lads, now they are back?” to which I replied, “Yes, that would be great, thanks”.

So I then stood at the front of maybe twenty dressed, semi-naked and naked England players to get a keepsake photograph of my visit.

Unfortunately, no-one had anything on view but hairy chested James Anderson was naked but his hands were cupped over his naked cock and balls, which could clearly be seen on the photo.

I was handed a signed photograph by all the players and manager and an England shirt as well, so I went away feeling pretty pleased with myself!
I headed back down to reception, asked “Maggie” to call “Victoria Taxis” for me, and I headed off to Colney in Hertfordshire, where Arsenal’s training ground was. Soon I was on my way to Arsenal and was excited at the prospect of meeting some more (naked) celebrities.

Once at Colney, which was a massive complex, I eventually found reception and was shown to the room where Simon was carrying out the tests.
“Hi Chris. Perfect timing, more or less, as I have just got two more players to test, these guys take bloody forever arriving for their tests and Arsene Wenger isn’t overly helpful. Did everything go alright with the England lads?,” he asked.

Yes, it was fine. No problems at all. They were all pretty helpful,” I said truthfully.

“They always are, to be fair. Not like this lot. Really up their own arses. Bloody Premier League footballers, I can’t stand them, and they can’t stand me!” he growled out.

“Maybe you will have better luck with them Chris? I am going to go and see Wenger now that you are here. He has requested a meeting with me, for some reason. Probably going to complain that we are disrupting their match build-up or something stupid. Well tough, the French bastard!”, he said with great feeling. He really didn’t like Arsenal, or footballers, not sure which.
“We have got Jack Wilshere and Calum Chambers to come still, so can I leave those tests with you? You know the drill, the same as the cricketers. They should have both been here ten minutes ago so they shouldn’t be long hopefully. Maybe I should keep Wenger waiting like this too?!”, he said.
“Yes, no problem Simon. You just go. I will be fine here.

Off he went for his meeting with Wenger, and almost as soon as he had left there was a knock at the door. It was Jack Wilshere, a player who I greatly admired and definitely had no ambition to upset or argue with.

“Come in Jack,” I said mustering as much authority as I could manage. Oh my, I am going to see Jack Wilshere’s cock was all that I could think at that moment! For people who don’t know Jack, he is a 23 year old central midfielder with Arsenal and England, a little stubby player at 5 feet 7 inches tall, but stocky, a tricky clever player, if somewhat injury prone. He had just recovered from a broken fibula a few weeks ago and was back in training and hopeful of getting back in the first team soon. He is a “cheeky chappie”, born in Stevenage and already a father of two at such a young age. A player you either love or hate. I love him. He possessed a thick mass of dark facial stubble today which made him look even sexier and his hairstyle was perfect for him.

“Hello. Are you Simon Collier?” he asked.

“No, my name is Chris. I am Simon’s assistant. He has asked me to carry out your test as he has a meeting with Mr Wenger. He laughed
.
“Wow, that will be fun. Those two hate each other. In fact most of the lads can’t stand him. He’s a prick apparently, although I haven’t met him”, said Jack with honesty. I noticed that he was walking slowly with a slight limp.
“Err, I have only just started at WSM recently, so don’t really know him that well, but I could tell that there seemed to be a bit of bad blood” I stated semi-truthfully.

“Yeah, the lads all like to mess him about and keep him waiting, because he is a wanker,” said Jack again displaying that brutal honesty.

“But you seem alright though, mate, so don’t worry I am not going to fuck with you. Shall we get on with it ?” he said.

“Okay jack, let’s go for it,” I replied smiling.

“This is going to sound a bit shit to be honest, but I am a real fan of yours,” I said. “I love watching you play – and Arsenal,” I continued.

“Yeah, when I am not fucking injured,” he replied laughing.

We talked for a good five minutes more, and he really is such a loveable, likeable guy, deep down.

I explained and carried out the blood test and hair test and then got ready to explain the urine test.

“Don’t worry mate, I know what the script is, but you are gonna have to help me a bit here, because my left leg is still bandaged up, so I am going to struggle, he said.

I didn’t quite understand what he meant, to be honest. He definitely hadn’t been training today. He was wearing an expensive looking jacket, which he had taken off when he had entered the room. This left him wearing a white vest with short sleeves, which showed off much of his many tattoos on his arms and strong shoulders. He also wore designer jeans and some expensive looking shoes. Definitely becoming of a young fashion-conscious rich sportsman.

He caught me looking at his tattoos and said, “Do you like them?”
“Err, yeah they are really good. They look fantastic, really suit you” I replied honestly, which admittedly was exactly what Jack wanted to hear to boost his already considerable ego. I really liked the guy but he was definitely not a person who was short of confidence!

He did no more than whip off his vest to reveal his sculpted chest with its quite considerable amount of chest hair high up above his nipples and it also give me an unhindered view of his tattoo sleeves. He pointed out several of the tattoos and told me why he had had them done and was obviously very proud of them, especially the ones dedicated to his kids, Archie (4) and Delilah (2). Yes, he had become a dad at a young age, alright – just 19. I doubt that he ever struggled to attract the girls!

I dutifully showed great interest in all information about his kids. He liked to talk about them.

“They are my pride and joy,” he kept saying.

We seemed to be getting on just fine considering that Simon was anticipating a rough road. Jack even began flexing his muscles to show me his strong biceps after I mentioned how strong the England cricketers’ arms had been.
“I bet they weren’t like these, eh mate?” he insisted. I agreed, of course, and even though his biceps were good, they couldn’t complete with the cricket lads strength.

“So, as I said, my leg is still all bandaged up and I am going to struggle a bit with my pants. Will you help me take them off please mate?” he asked.
“Why do you need to take them off Jack,” I honestly enquired.

“Well, if you think I am going to stand about pissing with my pants round my ankles, you’ve got another think coming Chris. It might take me a bit of time to give a sample and I am not waddling around like a duck all that fucking time. I really don’t care if you see my cock,” he said, without it sounding as aggressive a statement as it does in print.

“So just help me off with my shoes and pants, will you please mate?” he asked.

Who was I to refuse a request like that?

I stood up, went around the other side of the desk and knelt down to take Jack’s shoes off. They were definitely designer shoes and he did not wear any socks. His feet gave off a distinctly smelly odour once his shoes were off. No designer odour either, just plain smelly feet, which was a definite turn on for me.

Jack began to undo his belt and motioned for me to pull on the bottom of his trouser legs. Slowly and carefully, I removed Jack’s pants to reveal his muscly short hairy legs, very hairy in fact, and a massive bandage on his left leg from the knee down. I could see now what he had meant about struggling to get his pants off.

So now Jack was sat there in just his tight (presumably) designer briefs, showing off his great toned body to me and the firm outline of his buttocks. He is a strong tricky little player and his body strength certainly makes him the great player that he is. He obviously spent a lot of time in the gym.
I asked Jack about his injury and threw in about how fantastic his body strength was, and he certainly liked a compliment! I had said exactly the right thing to boost his ego again. It definitely seemed that he had taken to me, on first impressions and he almost immediately stood up and flexed the muscles in his good right leg.

“Look at the size of my calf muscles mate. Fucking better than Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain, I can tell you! And my thighs are solid. Just feel this one,” he offered.

I did and he was right, it was totally solid. I was aware that I had perhaps kept my hand there just a moment too long enjoying the situation and also feeling his hairy leg. I hoped that he hadn’t noticed.

He hadn’t because he then started to flex his arms again and instructed me to feel them too. They were both sizeable and solid, I will give him that. I pushed strongly on each bicep and told him what he wanted to hear.
“Christ, Jack you must’ve put some work in to get such strong arms.”
“Very true, mate, very true.” Ego satisfied again.

“Right, I suppose we had better get onto the urine test, eh?” he said.
“I suppose you’ve got to watch me pee?,” he asked.

“I am afraid so, jack,” I said, not afraid at all. Quite looking forward to it in fact.

“Ah, no worries on that score. I ain’t no prude. I am proud of my body,” he said.

“And so you should be,” I replied, knowing the required answer.
So Jack now stood up and started to lower his briefs. He got them down to his knees, holding his hands over his equipment, and said, “Just yank ‘em off me will you, past the bandage,”

Once again I found myself kneeling at cock level just in front of this young handsome Premier League star, only this time he was totally naked – and not even at my request.

Rather than leave his expensive clothing in a heap on the floor, I gathered them up and put everything on a chair in the corner behind him. Whilst doing so I risked a quick sniff at his briefs. They just smelled of a very expensive body spray or cologne.

“Ah, fuck this,” said Jack and removed his hands from in front of his tackle. He was not totally on display to me.

“I hope you’re not fucking gay”, he said to me, laughing.

I laughed back with him and replied untruthfully, “No, don’t be daft.”
Jack’s naked body really was a sight to behold. Such a short man but such a handsome man. His strong arms and strong hairy legs, his six pack, his totally defined v line leading down to his dick, this was one toned man, and only just a man really at 23. His perfect chest hair, his perfect facial stubble and now I got to see his child producing dick as well.

Jack’s penis is first and foremost fat. His girth must be huge. His length was on a par with Scott Borthwick, I found myself comparing. He was uncut, had a decent foreskin overhang and probably packed around four inches. How come sportsmen all have big dicks ? His nuts were sizeable too. Not particularly low, but bloody big.

I offered Jack the receptacle and he assumed the position. I went behind him to catch a glimpse of his ass, which I hadn’t seen so far. As you would expect, chunky and firm. Fairly hairy with hair growing up onto his lower back.

“I drunk three pints of fucking water before I came in here, you would think that I could muster something,” he said, substituting the word “somefink” in his Stevenage accent.

Almost immediately, he began to produce a little flow, and he ended up with around two inches of piss.

“Thank fuck for that,” he said, his dimples appearing as he managed a big smile. Jack seemed to like using swear words but that didn’t bother me at all. I just laughed and reached for the bottle. I labelled it up whilst Jack just stood there naked.

“You are going to have to help me get my briefs and pants back on Chris,” he said.

“Oh yeah, no problem, Jack,” I said heading back to assist.

I picked up his vest and handed it back to him. I knelt in front of him again and gestured for him to lift his right leg up. I slipped his briefs over his foot and then did the same with the left leg. I started to pull them up carefully past the bandage, all the time Jack’s cock being just a few inches away from my face again. I swear that I could smell his cock odour. Once they were upto his knees, I let him do the rest.

I helped him back into his pants, and before long Jack was once again fully dressed. I put his shoes back on for him.

I knew that I had fed his ego, but I had found Jack to be a most personable guy, if a little over-confident. I felt like we could almost become mates, but knew that was not remotely likely.

Walking back to the desk, I gave him the speech and located the form for Jack to sign, which he immediately did. He also grabbed another piece of paper and wrote something down.

He said, “That’s my personal mobile phone number, so please don’t give it out to anyone, but if you ever want to come down to an Arsenal game, just text me or call me and I will sort out free tickets for you.”
“That’s really kind of you Jack. I am going to take you up on that offer,” I said, meaning it.

“No worries mate. Next time I have got to be tested, can I request you instead of that dick?” he said laughing.

“You can request me, please do, but I don’t know if it will do any good,” I replied.

With that, he simply said, “See you later, I will send Calum in now, shall I?” and walked limping to the door.

“Yes please, Jack,” I replied. He was gone. Had I dreamed what had just happened?

There was another knock at the door and in walked Calum Chambers, a strapping central defender who was barely 20 years old. Calum had joined Arsenal from Southampton and had really made an impression in the team last season. He was another youngster who possessed facial hair beyond his years and must have been shaving at a very young age. He possesses a smile that lights up his whole face when he smiles, his face is that of a model with sparkling eyes and perfect teeth and his physique that of a typical fit sportsman.

Calum is 6 feet tall and possesses big broad shoulders, but his body narrows down into a very narrow waist and a somewhat slight frame for a defender.
He was very courteous, similar to the cricketers, but seemed a trifle shy to be honest. He was still waring his training gear, which comprised of a red Arsenal short sleeved training t-shirt, which showed off his arm muscles, and shorts, which immediately let me deduce that he had either shaved his legs and was pretty hairless.

I took the blood sample without much chit-chat, explained about the hair sample trying to start up conversation as I extracted some hairs,

“I’ll try not to ruin your hair Calum. I have just had Jack in, he’s a bit of a character isn’t he!” I said.

“Yeah, he is a good lad. We all love Jack here. It’s a pity he’s had so many injuries recently,” he replied.

Not much, but it was a start, I thought.

“Okay Calum, here’s the receptacle. Do you think that you could pass any urine please?,” I asked.

“I will try. I have never had a drugs test before, so this is all new to me and it phases me a bit,” he said, as he stood up, flipped his thumb into the band of his shorts and lowered them just sufficiently for him to get access to his penis. He lifted his dick out and placed it just over the bottle. I noticed that he was very trimmed down stairs and that his penis seemed to be pretty average length but fairly sturdy. He began to piss within maybe thirty seconds and beamed a smile of relief at me.

After filling around half the bottle, he flipped his cock back into his pants and handed me the pot.

Calum had definitely been uncomfortable peeing in front of me. The first player to be so this afternoon, but I tried to ease his worries with a little more conversation as he signed my forms.

Without even a handshake, he just asked, “Are we done now?,” turned around and walked out through the door. He was the least friendly of all the players, but I put that down simply to fear or shyness. Calum was definitely a stunning looking athlete and a beautiful man. His shyness made him more attractive.

I finished up placing and marking all the various samples in their rightful home and was waiting alone for maybe ten more minutes before Simon reappeared.

“Right, are you all done in here or are you still waiting for anyone?” he asked.

“No, all done, nice and easy, the players were great,” I replied truthfully.
“It has never been easy coming to Arsenal, I can tell you, so if you have managed to hit it off with the players, you have managed something that I haven’t. You seem to have done so well today Chris that maybe we can bring you out in the field again very soon. Would you like that?,” he asked.
“I certainly would. I never expected to be so involved with the actual tests before I came here, only the physical testing of the samples so it has been a very pleasant experience, to be honest,” I replied.

“Okay, I will bear it in mind,” he said, instructing me to get a move on and pack everything up so that we could try and beat the rush hour traffic.

On the journey back to the office, Simon confided to me that he hates testing the Premier League footballers, and hinted that he would possibly consider putting me full time on these, and also Football League players, before too long if all the tests that I had done were in order today. He suggested that maybe three days per week analysis at the office and two days a week visiting clubs to carry out tests would be a good start. I agreed enthusiastically with his suggestion.

That was two months ago now and I can honestly say that I do actually love my job. I have been to six different clubs since then and carried out tests on the likes of Eden Hazard (wow!), Ces Fabregas (hairy!), Gary Cahill, Kevin De Bruyne (so cute), Sergio Aguero (so sexy), Joe Hart (so hairy), Gerard Deulofeu, John Stones and Ross Barkley, with varying degrees of nudity involved.

It is very gratifying to the told that I am very good at my job, when my job involves getting paid to see famous Premier League footballers naked and asking them to pee for me. It is hard work but someone has to do it !
 
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