"Dude, I cannot believe you do this before every game!" said Kaiser laughing as he watched Chris jerking off into his jockstrap.
"Shut up, Kize! And it's not just before every game, it's before every practice too. I've been doing this since Middle School, and my team always wins."
"The fact that you weigh 300lbs and are still really fast is the reason the team wins, or at least one of them. Jacking off into a dirty old jockstrap doesn't have anything to do with it. When was the last time you washed that thing anyway?"
"Don't get me started. You think I'd wash away six years of good luck?"
"You haven't washed that thing in six years?"
Jeff was feeling queasy. It was a good thing he didn't have any guts to upchuck. Chris blew his load, but he kept jerking. The cum oozed through Jeff and was ground into him. A second load , but Chris kept pumping away.
Exhausted, Chris sighed. He was drenched in sweat, and had just blown his third load.
"Lucky three," he muttered.
"Chris, you're lucky that your jersey number is 3 and not 46, or you'd rub that thing raw," Kise said.
"Har, har," replied Chris.
"Now what about that tutor that coach said he was sending over?"