The acts depicted in this story are purely fictional although the characters and settings are all real. I wish the events had happened but to my continuing disappointment they never did. Do not read if you are likely to be offended by acts of consensual gay sex or if it is likely to be illegal for you to do so.
Comments welcome, flames read, laughed at and deleted. Cheers, The Alchemist ;-)
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For most people it would be a dream. Free entry to all of England's games in the 1998 World Cup finals. For me it was just amazing. I answered an advert in an industry magazine for a place in the England team's entourage starting with the King Hussein cup. There were four places available for general assistants within the touring party. I applied and was called for interview. They asked me lots of questions which I guess were meant to test my personality but being the amateur psychologist that I am I answered them all perfectly. I was offered the job in the interview room by Glenn Hoddle himself. It was a dream come true. I didn't tell anyone. I invented a story about a diving holiday in the Med. I didn't want anyone to know. Once I got back to England I would have some explaining to do but for the time being I could enjoy the job fully.
So there I was enjoying they Morrocan sunshine with the lads. The mood of the camp was excellent. Everyone was taking a last chance to relax before the gruelling World Cup programme. Gazza was on particularly good form as the joker and spirits were high. Of course, England didn't play particularly well in the tournament but they almost won it losing on penalties to Belgium. It was a huge shock to everyone when Glenn dropped Gazza. Especially in the light of what he'd previously said. But at the end of the day it was a decision based on form and fitness.
During the week off between that and the World Cup proper, the lads were allowed a last bit of free time while me and the other assistants went straight to La Baule to start setting up the England Camp. When the players arrived on Tuesday, everything was set up. It was part of my job to liaise between the players and the hotel to make sure everyone had what they wanted. This brought me into contact with the players quite a lot and I started getting on really well with them. I was accepted by them as a member of the party rather than as a lowly assistant and was frequently invited to join them for card games and other stuff.
None of them knew that I was gay of course. It probably wouldn't have gone down too well with a lot of them. I kept that to myself and just enjoyed being in their company.
I was surprised that the person I got on best with was David Beckham Despite being gorgeous I had always hated him. When I got to know him we had a lot in common and we clicked instantly. We got on together like old friends. We took the piss out of each other and had an excllent laugh together. The worst player was Paul Ince. He was an arrogant bastard who, since he departure of Gazza had styled himself as squad leader. But I had to accept it. If I'd caused any trouble within the ranks I would have been hung, drawn and quartered.
Monday came, the Tunisia game. It was a fantastic atmosphere which was only spoiled by the violence of the day before. It hadn't been good for morale within the camp but it was soon forgotten when England won 2-0 It was the perfect result to start the tournament. The English press were silenced from their usual knocking and the confidence of the team was increased infinitely. The mood in the dressing room was jubilant and even David, who had been dropped from the team, was happy that England had got off to a good start.
The Romania game a week later was a different story. It was a nail-biting game and we looked like we'd secured an importnat point against a strong side when the Petrescu goal went in on 90 minutes. The lads were crushed and the dressing room was a tad unhappy. The only good thing to come from the game was that young Michael Owen had scored. It was an excellent goal which despite the general mood was worth celebrating.
There was only a couple of days off before the Columbia game. That was fantastic. I would say it was the best England performance under Glenn Hoddle so far. David scored a cracking free kick and Darren Anderton hit an amazing shot past the Colombian keeper to put them out. Unfortunately Tunisia didn't beat Romania so England faced a tough game against Argentina in round two.
That day the players wives were in town, flown over by the FA to help keep the lads happy. That pretty much left me and David together with his girlfriend Victoria touring the States. Despite scoring his first goal for England he was a bit down when all the other lads had their other halves with them. When he got back to the hotel from the meal he came into my room for a chat. I tried cheering him up but it kept coming down to the fact that he hadn't seen his fiance for three weeks and was unlikely to see her for another three. I offered my services to him as a joke when he asked me if I meant it. I should have told him I was joking but some part of me with a death wish wanted to see what would happen. It was that part of me which said.
"If you want."
He looked a bit shocked for a second but then smiled.
"Are you gay then?"
"Yes I suppose I am. I fancy a very small number of women too, your
fiance included, but I'm 99% into men."
"And you'd be willing to have sex with me."
"Well, it would be a bit of a chore but I'm sure I could manage. Not
that I've been lusting after you since I first saw you in that horrible
red Manc shirt or anything."
"Wow. People told me I was a bit of a gay icon but I never believed
it."
"Well you are beautiful. Us gay men have very discerning taste you
know."
"Do you fancy any of the other lads?"
"Well, Graham's got a certain je ne sais quoi but he's really not my
type. My best mate fancies the arse off Alan Shearer, but MY favourite
would have to be young Michael."
"He is quite good-looking isn't he."
"Just a bit. Almost enough to convert me to Liverpool, but not
quite. That girlfriend of his is very lucky."
"She's not really his girlfriend you know."
"What do you mean?"
"I shouldn't tell you this but Michael is gay as well. When Roy
Evans found out he told him to get a girlfriend sharpish and not to let
anyone know. He was needling me one game and secretly throwing me kisses
on the pitch to put me off my game. I asked him about it afterwards and
he told me the whole story. I promised not to tell anyone. I figured
that you would be fairly safe to tell. If I told some of the lads or
especially Glenn that you were gay you'd be on a plane to England before
you could think."
"You reckon?"
"I know It happened at Italia 90. Apparently one of the assistants
like you came on to Gary Lineker. I understand he was thrown out of the
country."
"Blimey"
"So you'd better keep your trap shut. Anyway, didn't you offer me a
shag a while back."
"So you are interested then?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
"On whether I can trust you to keep your trap shut."
"Of course you can. I'd never kiss and tell."
"I'll have to believe you 'cos I'm desperate. I've done this before
once or twice and although I enjoyed it, I still prefer women."
"Absolutely. I never thought anything different."
"Good. Now lets sleep together."
"Oh alright then."
We were lying on the bed and I turned to face him and we kissed. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before. He was the first straight person I'd ever kissed and it was somehow different. He put a lot of passion into it and it felt absolutely amazing. I kissed him back with ll the passion I could muster and we swapped spit for a few minutes. I ran my fingers though his beautiful bleached blond hair. It felt so nice and smooth, obviously the Brylcream! I started to unbutton his shirt and ran one hand over his smooth powerful chest. The muscle tone was perfect and I could tell he was an athlete at he peak fo physical fitness. He workd a hand up under my T-shirt and did the same to me. He toyed with my nipples sending pleasure right through me.
Soon our shirts were history and we took turns at licking each others chests clean. I could smell the pure primal manliness emanating from his armpits. The scent drove me wild. I worked away with one hand at his belt. I had it undone in seconds, I'd had enough practise after all. I slipped my hand under the waistband and fondled his stiff cock through his briefs. It felt huge to me and I couldn't wait to see it. David had slipped mhorts down and I was now completely naked with my 6 inch cock pointing to the ceiling. I returned the favour and then rolled on top of him and kissed him once more. I ground my cock against his fervently, enjoying the feeling of our two organs mashing together, our precum mking them slide around blissfully. He rolled over so he was on top and moved up so his cock was in my face. I stuck out my tongue and licked the end of his skin. I could taste the sweat of his earlier exertions on the field. He smelt so manly, the pure embodiment of physique and fitness producing a pheromonal surge which made my heart race.
He thrust forwards and in one movement his cock was buried in my throat. Slowly he rolled his pelvis so that it rock in and out of my mouth. I grabbed his arse firmly and pulled him all the way into me and held him there firmly. I wrapped my tongue backwards and forwards round his cock and then let him free again. I could see his abs conracting in time with his cock. I jammed one finger into his arsehole and moved it around illiciting groans of pure pleasure from this real man on top of me. I worked two and then three fingers inside of him and worked a rhythm on his prostate which was calculated to give him the maximum pleasure. It was an experience I wasn't going to forget and I wante it to be the same for him. He started thrusting more quickly in and out of my mouth. I could feel him geting close. It was like a sixth sense, as if our bodies were joined as one, feeling the same feelings and knoing all about each other. Then he came and I was ready. Strong spurts of the cum he had been building up for three weeks since the last time the cock in my mouth had been buried deep inside Posh Spice. On and on it came, a torrent of the strongest tasting juice I had ever drunk from the source. Eventually after an orgasmic period of about thirty seconds he let out a huge sigh and blasted one final shot into my mouth and then pulled out.
He yanked my fingers from his arse and sat straight down on my cock. I humped away rapidly. I wanted to experience what he just had. I wanted to cum deep inside him, firing shot after shot of my cum against the walls of his arse, deep inside him. It was only another ten seconds before it started. Suddenly a wave of pure feral agression hit me and my cock exploded. It was like nothing I had ever felt before and I doubt I will ever feel it again. Strong shudders went through my whole body forcing shot after shot of my cum to flow from me to him. It lasted for only about twenty seconds. Ay more and I reckon I might have passed out. He got up off me when I had finished and lay beside me. Now there was a different smell on him. This one was even more primal than that of physical exertion. It was the smell of pure and satisfying sex.
We slept together that night. Total calm was around us. We had both experienced something together which would live with us forever. It was never discussed and it was never repeated. There was no need. We had given each other total satisfaction.
It was me who was sent into the dressing room when David was sent off. He was totally inconsolable. I put my arm around him and held him as he sobbed on my shoulder. It was the first time I had seen him this upset. He couldn't understand what had happened. One minute he was running forwards with the ball and the next he was walking down the tunnel. I told him what it looked like from where I was sitting and he said that whne the player had tackled him he'd just felt this pure rage throughout his body. Lying face down he felt he had to get the player back. As almost an afterthought his leg lifted itself up hoping to make contact. It did. It was the softest of contacts but the Argentinian went down like a sack of spuds. Ref Kim Nielsen decided to send him off and that was that. He knew what he had done was wrong. He knew that because of him England would now be out of the World Cup. He had no doubt that the rest of the team would play their hearts out as he had been doing up until a few minutes before.
Once he had calmed down I left him to his thoughts and reported back to the bench. The good news was that England were still holding on at 2-2 but the Argentinian attack would surely be strong enough to break down a ten man England. But amazingly they held on until right to the stroke of full time when Sol Campbell leapt up to head England home. The whole stadium erupted right there. I was about to run off to tell David when the ref disallowed it. No clear reason although an alledged foul by Shearer was touted afterwards. We were all gutted. That goal would have sent us through to the quarters for the game against Holland. Now we would have to turn our attention to extra time.
The whole hour of extra time was a nerve wracking time. Everyone was on tenterhooks as a goal at any moment would end the game with either agony or ecstasy. But it went. Now was the moment we had been dreading. Penalties. It was going OK until David stepped up. He had looked uneasy for the few minutes he'd been on the pitch. As usual he was being solid and sure with passes backwards and sideways. I couldn't believe Glenn had chosen him to take a penalty.
He stepped up. He shot. It was saved. The dream was over.