The gym is packed full of Santa Barbara fans. They’re all chanting traitors as soon as we run out. I mean, I know I used to go there, but that feels...like it was so long ago. And why is traitors plural? As we huddle in the center of the court and do our chant, I can’t help but feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. Once we start doing warm-ups, the crowd goes wild as the Santa Barbara Dons rush the court.And that’s when I see Brett’s glare, but he’s not even looking at me. His gaze is focused. His hand shot out and slid down my own shorts, so that my own dick was standing straight out. We stood naked in front of each other our eyes drinking in every inch of each others bodies. Suddenly I couldn’t take it anymore, jumping forward, I knocked him backward on to the couch. Before I joined him there, I hit the button on the side that unfolded the couch into a bed. He was laying on his back with his legs spread wide and his dick pointing straight up at the sealing. It just stayed there. More

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