You ever hear of a shit storm?

Yeah?

Well, that’s kind of what my life is now like.

I’m watching the rerun of the SportsNation broadcast in the team lounge. The lounge that just a few days ago I had the fucking greatest sex ever. With the baddest girl ever. And the only other bad boy thats ever mattered to me, apparently.

The other players are looking at me as the television goes on and on, zooming in to show my hand on Ethan’s cock. Yeah, they blur that shit out. They can’t show Ethan’s cock on national television.

But they blur it in such a fucking way that literally nothing is left to the imagination.

You can tell exactly how long and how thick that giant fucking cock is of his.

Fucking Christ. I had no idea this was on endless loop until I walked in and sat down with a plate of food.

It’s not like I can get away from it either. This shit is going to be blaring from the corners. People in some small African country without internet are somehow going to fucking find out about this.

“Hey playboy,” DeShawn comes up to me with a fucking grin, “You been holding out on us or what, man?”

Fucking Christ. These guys are going to pound the shit out of me.

They’re going to fucking think I’ve been staring at their cocks in the shower or some shit like that.

I mean, I know I’m not gay. I’m not attracted to these men. I’m like not drooling over DeShawn. It doesn’t matter that I think personally my body is ten times more attractive his. It’s just that I like women.

And men - sometimes.

I had one other experience with a dude back at Ole Miss. But that was after like 24 beers and with another brother in the frat. I never really took that as a sign of anything.

Now these guys are going to hate me.

Yeah, I know what you’re going to say.

I’m going to say ‘I’m Colt fucking Stackford and I can handle anything’ or some shit like that.

Because you're tired by now of what an arrogant fucking prick I am.

Fucking Christ, you’re not going to be far off.

I don’t say anything to DeShawn as he looks at me, and I’m not going to say anything to you either.

Because you’re fucking right. You’re absolutely 100% right.

I deserve whatever is going to happen to me.

What, they’re going to kick the shit out of me. I mean, Ethan’s the one that got the fucking handjob. I’m the one that gave it out.

I’m not ashamed. If given the opportunity I’d do it all over again. It unlocked something in me - something that I think I knew for the longest time - but still something that needed to be let go.

But these guys?

The ones that watch me strut and swagger and preen every fucking day.

The ones that read about how I fuck super models and actresses and see me with a different girl at each fucking event.

They’re going to fucking tear me to shreds.

Starting with DeShawn.

I sigh and get up off the chair that I was sitting on and sigh out loud.

“Look, DeShawn,” I begin. I don’t know where to fucking start, to be absolutely honest. For once in my entire life, I have nothing to say and don’t know what to do.

I’ve been hit with media blows before. Hell, you don’t become the most motherfucking badass payer in the NFL without some scandals.

But I always knew those scandals were making my rep in a way, you know?

Like fucking look at me, I just banged this hot piece of ass. Now another. Now another.

It didn't really matter to me what was happening to them because I was just doing whatever I wanted to. I was going for a ride and they were each getting their 15 minutes of fame.

At least that’s what I thought until the tables turned and now I’m being trampled on by the same fucking press.

I sigh again as DeShawn looks at me, waiting for me to complete my sentence.

“I don’t have any excuse for my actions man,” I say loud enough that the people around me can hear.

Every fucking eye is on me. I can fucking tell I’m under the microscope.

Add to that, Coach Karl comes out and he’s standing on the far end of the room.

It’s like the entire group now is using DeShawn to speak for them.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “I deserve whatever the fuck happens to me,” I say. Then I sign and run my hands through my hair. Those golden fucking locks that used to get the panties wet. “I’m a total fucking jackass, man.”

If you’re wondering why I’m apologizing man, then let me break it down for you.

These are my brothers.

I did something intimate with Ethan in the one place that we hold sacred. The arena where we perform. For it to be splashed on national television and the brand that we play under to be tarnished because of actions that I partook in is entirely worthy of a fucking apology.

I didn’t realize that before. But I do now. It’s just probably too late.

DeShawn looks at me for a long moment and I can tell he’s looking and evaluating what he’s going to fucking say to me. I wonder how he’s going to start screwing the knife in. I’ve never been a jackass to him - but I’ve never gone out of my way to be nice either.

Fuck.

After what seems like fucking forever, DeShawn sighs.

He looks towards the television. I look over too. I’m stroking Ethan’s cock with my hand.

Fuck. This. Shit.

“Man, change the fucking channel off if they just gonna be broadcasting garbage all day,” DeShawn says and walks over to the table and picks up the remote. He points it and changes the channel.

It’s the Nightly News. And I’m jerking Ethan off.

He switches it to MTV.

I’m jerking Ethan off.

He switches it to Cartoon Network.

You don’t even wanna fucking know.

Finally, DeShawn just turns the entire thing off.

He looks at me. “I used to think you’re a prick man,” he says. I remain silent. I can’t fight back. “Walking around here with that whole ‘Colt fucking Stackford’ shit. You’re an assbag!”

There are some nods around the room.

“But shit,” DeShawn continues. “You ain’t never been nothing but straight with us and you play your fucking heart out. So if you’re standing there and admitting you fucked up and you made a mistake by doing something in the locker room, I’m cool.”

Holy fuck. What is going on.

DeShawn sees the confusion in my face. “I don’t really care what you do and who you do it with, man,” he says. There are a number of people who nod and agree. “Just don’t get your cum on me, though.”

I can’t help but fucking laugh. A few others do too.

“And shit, you might be more famous now than before, if that’s even possible,” DeShawn says. “Everyone knows fucking Colt now.”

Fuck me. My hearts beating so fast in surprise I can’t even fucking describe it.

They had me in probably the most vulnerable moment I have ever fucking been in my life. And they showed fucking mercy.

I could learn a lot from these guys. Like really learn a lot.

I could learn a lot from Ethan.

And Julianna.

DeShawn claps me on the back. “You going to sit down and eat, playboy, or you think we gotta pull out your chair now that you got two sex tapes out in public?”

There’s general laughter all around.

I grin and sit down with the boys.

They’re able to forgive and let go. After my apology about what happened in the locker room.

Thank God what happened with Juliana and Ethan hasn’t come out yet.