I’m nervous, but excited as all hell. The day is finally here! I’m in the hallway, under the bright lights. The passage echoes distant movements, smells of testosterone and sweat. There’s a laminated ‘Access all areas’ pass around my neck. I twist the little string lanyard this way and that, my fingers giving away my jitters as I wait for my older sister.

I owe her big time. Ginny works for my favourite football team, in the marketing department. She has ensured that I was ‘lucky’ enough to win a fan competition to hang out with the team on a match day. I’ll meet them in the change room before and after the game, enjoying VIP seats for the spectacle itself.

I hear footsteps: it’s Ginny. She smiles at me and it makes me feel much calmer. At twenty-three, she was four years older than me. Already married, with an amazing job, she oozes control and confidence. At a time like this, I can feed off that. Each time I hear a laugh or a grunt from behind the door, the butterflies rise inside me again, so I’m glad when she takes my hand.

“Come on Cathy,” she says with a twinkle in her eye. “Let me introduce you to the boys.”

She opens the door and I follow her in. The tension in the air hits me straight away. Today is a massive game, it’s do or die for my team. Everywhere I look, I gasp as I spot another of my heroes. They’re strapping, stretching or meditating with their headphones on. And they’re absolutely huge.

“Guys, listen up,” says Ginny with her usual authority. “I want you to meet my sister Cathy. She’s a huge fan and she’s our special guest today, so be nice to her. We won’t hang around now, but she’ll come and visit you after the game. Hopefully we’ll be celebrating!”

I offer what feels like a weak, watery smile. I give a little wave with my shaky hand and muster a feint “hey” as my heart pounds against my breast.

A few nods, a whisper and a couple of snickers. My favourite player, the captain, arms as thick as my legs, gives me a quizzical look. I’m not sure if it’s approving or not. I feel tiny. Ginny leads me out.

“They’re nervous, that’s for sure. They’re always in a bit of a zone before the game, and you know what a big deal today is.”

“Not as nervous as me!”

“I wouldn’t bet on it. But they are hotter in real life than on TV, aren’t they?”

“I didn’t get much time to look, but I think you’re right. I thought I’d seen big guys before, but they’re something else.”

Ginny says nothing. She knows my taste for footballers. I’ve had posters of my favourites on my wall since the moment puberty hit.

Soon we’re in our seats, the bright winter sun on our faces and an endless supply of drinks in ours hands. The game is tense, but we win narrowly. We’ve done it and the season is still alive!

We hang around in our box as the jubilant crowd file out. I’m tipsy now, and happy. Ginny tells me the players are busy with the press, and when they’re done she’ll take me back down, into the bowels of the stadium, back to the change room.

“They might even invite you to party with them tonight,” she says with a smile. “They do take a liking to some fans, especially girls.”

My heart skips a beat at the thought that any of them could take a liking to me. It doesn’t seem realistic, but I don’t see that flicker of naughtiness in Ginny’s eyes that tells me she’s kidding.

The bleachers are almost clear now, and evening is drawing in. Ginny takes a call and motions me to follow her back downstairs.

We’re back in the hallway. Sweat. Testosterone. Now the noises are different. Laughter, singing, chanting. There’s a chart-topper playing. The sounds of all-out celebration. Relieved celebration. Release.

I can also hear the unmistakeable noise of water running. Shit – are they showering?

“Ready honey?” asks Ginny.

“Wait, it sounds like they’re still taking showers!”

“Probably are.” She winks at me. “We always let them get dressed before we let the fans in, but I’m making an exception for my little sis. I know you’ll enjoy it. ”

“But…” I can feel myself turning bright red. “But…what about…”

I should argue with her but I can’t bring myself to. I swallow hard as she opens the door and shoos me in.

“I’ll come for you later,” she says, withdrawing. I thought she was going to stay and look after me! Before I can say anything, the door clicks closed.

It feels very different in here this time. Steam rises from behind a wall in the far corner of the room: it’s muggy and close. The smell is an intoxicating cocktail of manly odours. A few players notice me right away.

“Hey, look who’s here again!” says one, still in his gear and beaming from ear to ear. I always liked this one, he seems a real genuine guy on TV. And so handsome. “Ginny’s little sister’s come to see us!”

A few players cheer as he comes over and puts his arm around me, drawing me close to his wet, hot body. I melt.

Another offers me one of the team’s victory beers. My mouth is so dry that I down it way too fast, to a round of applause. I look around me. The players in this part of the room are respectable dressed, although some are shirtless. A couple are only in towels, heading to or from the shower around the corner.

I accept another beer. I take it slower but I’m feeling more relaxed already as the guys chat to me about the game. I admit that it’s my dream come true to meet them. I stop short of telling my favourite players about the times I’d lain on my bed since my early teens, fingering my pussy while I looked at their posters. I know for sure I’ll be doing that again tonight, but I won’t need any posters when I can relive this visit in my mind.

“Glad to make your day,” says the captain, my all-time favourite. “You’ve got us all to yourself!”

I look around. He is right. There were none of the support staff, coaches or hangers-on that had been milling around before the game. I begin to wonder if Ginny has somehow barred them all. It isn’t beyond my impish sister at all. My legs begin to tremble.

As if reading my body, he ushers me over to his corner and sits me down on the bench. My head begins to rush as I notice his named shirt, casually tossed on the floor at my feet. Can this be real? That I am here with him? He seems the perfect gentleman as he hands me another beer.

Okay, I’m horny now. He’s standing right in front of me and I want to throw my arms around his tree-trunk waist, bury my head in his six-pack.

But what happens instead is this: he stands aside and I gasp. From here I can see right into the open-plan shower. There are at least ten of them in there.

With two beers in me, my shyness is on the wane and I can’t look away. I am transfixed, my jaw slackens. I’m like a cat that has spotted a pigeon through the garden door. My tail twitches, but part of me still purrs.

“Seen something you like?”

I’ll say.

I try to snap out of it. Close my eyes for a moment and try to look the other way. It’s no good. How does a girl lose the image of a dozen naked alpha hunks soaping themselves down in the shower? She doesn’t.

Now I think a couple of the shower boys have spotted me. One of them points. I look away once again, but out of the corner of my eye I see a magnificent cock on the rise. His hands are on his hips, he’s colossal and he’s definitely staring right at this little girl glowering in the corner.

This little girl’s vagina responds. It is secreting musky liquid so that she sits in a wet patch. She shifts, uncomfortably aroused.

“I have to take a shower,” says my adorable captain. “You want to join us?”

This little girl cannot believe her ears. But her vagina can, and responds further. It gushes, its lips parting by their own will as her panties reach saturation point.

This little girl will give herself now, and she knows it.

The part of me that tries to stay in control says, “What? I…oh…but…”

That part of me can manage no more. My vagina will win. I take his hand as he pulls me to my feet and unbuttons my blouse.

Suddenly they are on me like piranhas. One slips the ‘Access all Areas’ pass over my head; another pulls down my skirt with a brisk jerk. At least four of them are upon me now. They have no patience for my underwear. My bra is pulled open by force; my panties ripped apart by a couple of stout fingers and then brushed aside. God, this feels good.

“Don’t forget the shoes,” someone says, impatiently.

I feel a slap on my arse as I bend over to unlace them and pull them off. That turns me on so much. I hold my pose a little longer, feeling eyes gaze at my trimmed, primed gash and willing the consequences.

Not yet. Not just yet. He takes me hand again and I am led, naked, into the tiled shower area. Two, four, six towelled men follow and I am pushed gently into the throng already beneath the gushing water. The followers drop their towels and enter. The circle closes and I am surrounded. On all sides, there are hard dicks, as massive as their masters.

There must be fifteen of them, and only this little girl, stripped and wetter than wet. Not just from her flooded cunt, but from the splashing shower heads.

I am muscled right underneath a jet of water. I barely need to stand, as steel bodies push against me on all sides. This little girl is the only one for all these men. This little girl can hardly breath for all the water and all the men, she is exhilarated.

Now a hand reaches around from behind me and slips a middle finger into my steaming pussy. It’s long, it goes deep. I cannot say if it belongs to the penis that’s nestled between my butt cheeks, and I do not need to know. All of these men are perfect. All of these men want me right now. I am their prize.

Hands grapple roughly at my breasts. I love my breasts to be carelessly fondled, especially when they’re wet like they are now. Somehow, another finger finds my clit. It’s so big it doesn’t lose the spot. It rubs, rubs, rubs some more. This little girl is close to the edge.

My legs have stopped working, but I’m still upright, held in place by the strong hand inside my crotch. It’s moved a second finger into my hole now, and yet another hand rubs soap into my anus, cleaning my little arse hole for who knows what. This little girl is feeling everything, everywhere. She shivers and wants to press harder against all the bodies at once.

The water spurts down over me in wonderful, warming jets. My hair is sodden and it’s out of control. It’s straggling everywhere as it’s pushed between bulging torsos; I can hardly see. The steam seems to get thicker as my temperature and passion rises. This little girl doesn’t care. She needs to feel herself getting fucked.

Now I am on the shower floor and one of them is on top of me. He could crush me with his iron body, but he is as gentle as the water that patters down on us both. I can feel the masculine potential of his power without having to bear it. And he is fucking me now, right here on the slippery shower floor. I wrap my legs around him as I urge him deeper inside me.

Then there is a cock in my mouth. My fucker has angled his head away so that my hero, the captain – I know it’s him because I know his voice from TV – can squeeze his member in between my lips. I gobble it greedily, drawing on all the frustrated lust stored up from those self-pleasuring moments spent with the posters of him.

When he has spurted his frothy cum in my mouth, he kisses me gently and I whimper while still being fucked hard in my pussy by his team-mate. It’s as if he knows that he is my favourite, but only later will it all make sense. Now the huge, pumping penis inside me rears up, snarls and unleashes its seed in several bursts.

Next it is the captain who takes me, he standing up with me up against the wet wall with my knees wrapped around his back. He kisses me while he screws me, one enormous hand making a pillow behind my head while another cradles my butt, taking all my weight and pulling me closer as he thrusts. He is so strong, this little girl can relax in mid-air. This little girl comes with her hero inside her, goes limp as he sets her down gently beneath the rubbing water.

But I am not done yet. More players want me. I swell with pride and open my pussy to them all. I am theirs, but these strong men are mine too and I will have them. I am done doggy-style by one as two more nibble on my nipples. I let one of them hold me horizontally in mid-air while two more pull my legs apart and a fourth penetrates me standing up. The one with the biggest cock of them all asks me to ride him, and this little cowgirl is thrilled to oblige. She makes more noise as more players take her.

I squeal with pleasure and come for the second time when I am double-penetrated in a kneeling position. There’s a thick member in my soapy back hole and another in my sex, still as saturated with my own honey as it is with football player cream. As they pump harder and harder, I can hardly separate the sensations, feeling just one overwhelming fullness but still finding room in my mouth for the delicious dick that appears in my face. When it lets go, so do I, with a shudder.

Now I am left, exhausted, wet and bedraggled, on the shower floor. I have been fucked by ten, maybe fifteen of them. There is a smile on my face and a glow in my soul. I stay like that for some time, soaking up the happiness. It’s possible I fall asleep. Then I stand up and rinse down my filthy and thoroughly explored body.

At last I switch off the taps and reach for a towel. When I dry my eyes I look up to see Ginny standing in front of me.

“Hey you,” she says, smiling with her eyes. “Who said you could use the men’s showers, huh?”

I move to speak, but she interrupts: “Don’t worry, there’s nobody else here, just you and me. The guys just got on the bus back to the hotel. I brought you some clean clothes: I had a feeling you might need them…”

“Ginny, did you set me up…”

She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t need to. I can see that wicked look in her eyes.

“Cathy, let’s just say that today everybody was a winner, okay?”

I grin at her.

“And by the way, the guys said you can definitely party with them tonight…”

This story is from James Grey's Breaking Free collection, which is available via his website.