Juggernaut

Since my coach at St. Laszlo's Academy, Father Mike, caught me wackin my pud in the locker room yesterday, he's starting me on the intensive weight training program after practice -- after everyone else leaves and it's just me, him, and the school mascot, Juggernaut, in the whole school building. He says he's doing this instead of making me go to confession so we can kick Sacred Heart's ass next month. "Lift your hips toward me" he says, standing over my head to spot, and I can totally see up his shorts. He's wearing a jockstrap. Didn't know priests wore jockstraps. Always figured they'd wear some other kind of stuff under there. I dunno. Huh. Anyway, it's real quite in the weight room while I'm lifting. I don't know how long it was going on for, or how many I was doing, just that my eardrums are about blow out and all I can see is Father Mike's jockstrap and my hips are so high it feels like I can touch Father Mike's chin with my crotch and... WHAT THE FUCK? Juggernaut! Stupid dog! AUGH. Ugh. Shower time.