Date: Sat, 11 Jan 2003 15:08:51 +0000
From: justin scott <scott_justin51@hotmail.com>
Subject: English Soccer Stars

ENGLISH SOCCER STARS

as told to JUSTIN SHORTS (scott_justin51@hotmail.com)

I have to make two things clear from the start.  Firstly, I cannot claim
any of the credit for this story, which was sent to me some years ago by
'Greg'.  I have since lost touch with him, and am hoping that he might read
this and re-establish contact.  He shares many of my interests in briefs
and shorts, and he very kindly wrote this for me - and I have never read
anything to beat it.  The other thing that needs to be said is that,
unfortunately, none of the following is true.  It is pure invention - and
like all fantasy, more vivid than any possible reality!  Greg - do get in
touch (if only to tell me off for sharing your story!)

Followers of English soccer will see very quickly that this story is
several years old - the reference to Keegan as manager, the age of the
players, and so on.  But I don't think it has lost any of its potency.  I'm
hoping that the two featured players are well enough known to any US
readers not to need any further introduction.

The story:

It had been a good afternoon's workout, what with the game against Sweden
only some 48 hours away. The day was bright and sunny, as it often can be
in England during early June, and all the England players had worked up a
good sweat during the mid-afternoon training session. The grounds of Bisham
Abbey looked resplendent in the early summer sun and echoed with the sights
and sounds of young lean bodies, straining and exercising, joking and
playing. The England manager, Kevin Keegan, brought the session to an end,
summed up the good points and explained what he still wanted working
on. The players were then free to wander off, clean up, and enjoy some free
time before dinner.

David Beckham, his golden locks fringed dark with perspiration, decided to
forgo the changing room and, instead, like some other players, head off to
his own room. The team seemed to be finding its shape, he thought, and he
had worked tirelessly on a new free-kick routine with Alan Shearer and Paul
Scholes.  Feeling satisfied with a good training session he entered his
room, having earlier given his boots to one of the young attendants, and
sat down to remove his socks. David thought about running a bath but
decided to wait and unwind some more before taking a dip in the bathroom
adjoining his room. Instead he went to the small fridge located in a corner
of the room and took out a bottle of chilled lager. Opening the bottle he
took a swig, feeling the ice-cold liquid pour down his throat. A droplet
escaped, pausing on the precipice of the luscious red bottom lip, before
running down his chin and falling onto his white England training
shirt. Becks wiped his chin with the back of his hand and shook his head,
his agitated hair spraying the room with fine droplets of sweat.

David flopped onto the bed, his lithe, lean limbs feeling fluid and
relaxed.  Propping his head on the pillows, he took another drink from the
bottle and considering switching on the television, his delicate fingers
briefly tracing the surface of the remote control. Instead, instinctively -
for this is why he had returned to his room - his right hand moved up his
thigh and his fingers played gently with his dark blue nylon shorts,
feeling the smooth, silky material and his thickening cock underneath. It
had been a few days since he'd last cum, a fact unusual in itself, and
young Beckham, feeling warm and exercised, fit and full of youthful energy,
knew that it was time he treated himself to a good slow wank before things
got too busy. Besides, he preferred to abstain from blowing a load too near
a match. Used to victory, the young lad preferred more than a spray of just
champagne to celebrate with afterwards and on the rare occasions of defeat,
it provided a moment in which to ease the disappointment.

Drinking a deep draught from the bottle, Beck's emptied his mind, and while
continuing to gently toy with his semi-hard cock in his shorts, he conjured
up images to play with. David, loved Victoria, have no doubts about that,
he adored his recently born son, Brooklyn, too; but he also had other
loves, other unspoken desires. Desires that he must hide shield from the
all-prying eyes of the press and his many legions of fans. From adolescence
young Beckham had possessed a strong appetite for sex, he'd discovered
girls and he discovered he liked boys too. In fact, when it came to his
cock, it seemed it didn't care where he put it, as long as he put it
somewhere. He just had an overwhelming need to get his rocks off and
unburden himself from the hot, creamy load that he carried in his
balls. Beck's loved sex - it was as simple as that - he adored it, wanted
it, needed it. What is more, he was good at it too. He possessed great
stamina, was not adverse to experimentation and was always anxious that his
partners enjoy the moment also.

Having girls had proved to be easy, the lean, boyish good looks had seen to
that. Becks was 6'0" tall, 24 years old, and although originally coloured
mousy brown, his hair was dyed blond and parted centrally, often falling
across his hazel eyes. His skin was smooth and golden, and fine lithesome
muscles rippled across his abdomen. His torso was the classical inverted
triangle tapering down to the thin waist and honeyed hips. The eyes were
`deep' suggesting a certain insouciance for those not of his world, and the
smile at times cheeky, at other times arrogant. His looks he knew were not
a problem with lads either but the necessity for caution was. The truth of
the matter, though he hid it even from himself for such was the fear of
discovery, was that he loved cock best. Not that he felt himself gay. After
all, he had a child and was soon to take a wife, surely he couldn't be gay?
It was just that while his cock sought fulfilment inside someone else so
did he wish to receive something in return inside him.  That something was
someone else's prick. Victoria did not know, indeed she need never know he
thought. Truth to tell, since his relationship with Victoria satisfied most
of his demands he had not had quite the same need or time to pursue his
other desires. Besides, he had to be circumspect. Young David had learnt
that as a celebrity it was best to keep a limited circle of friends and,
ideally, find a lad who shared the same desires and who also had a lot to
lose if things ever came out.

Beckham's first experience with another lad had come at the age of
15. Steve Justin, who was also 15 at the time, had not made it in the world
of professional football. However the young Manchester United apprentice
had introduced young Becks to the delights of mutual masturbation and oral
sex.  A few other chance encounters littered his past, most memorably with
Mark Owen from `Take That', the pair, having met at a celebrity bash three
years ago proceeded to enjoy an evening of fun in Becks hotel room. He
still `got off' on thinking about the taste and feel of Mark's beautiful
ass. Differing schedules and lifestyles had only seen them meet twice
since, though it had proved to be mutually satisfying. As far as Becks knew
he was the only member of the team who understood that the Neville brothers
shared more than the same blood. He had spent more than one or two
enjoyable evenings with either or both Gary and Phil.  As Becks eased his
shirt out of his shorts and his hand explored his smooth golden chest his
mind was concentrating on none of these. Instead, David was recollecting
the pungent taste of young Scott Nash. Scott was 16, and an apprentice at
Manchester United. A good prospect too, reckoned Becks. He was also David's
boot boy and would, as had been discovered, do anything for his hero. Scott
was 5'9" tall, lean and wiry, clothed in smooth olive skin (his mother was
Italian), with coal black hair, cut in No 1 style, and hazel brown
eyes. The lad had been generously endowed, already possessing a 7" thick
uncut cock and two huge balls that produced copious quantities of thick
boycream.  Thinking about Scott made Beck's cock twitch and, draining his
bottle of lager, he settled down to create a little gift for the
lad. Beck's eased his shorts over his hips and down his legs, kicking them
onto the floor. He spread his legs wide and admired the view of his
distended cock oozing precum into his tight, shiny, powder blue nylon
briefs.

The briefs were a gift from Victoria. She had soon discovered that Beck's
liked sexy underwear and had bought him a large selection. He had returned
the favour and loved to feel her in filmy, slippery panties. It was just a
pity, he mused, that she didn't possess a cock to get one's teeth into
inside `em. It hadn't taken long to discover that Scott was willing to do
more than clean Becks' boots and soon the young horny lad was chewing on
Becks' match-day jock with David still inside it. He had chosen the nylon
briefs today especially for Scott, and thus had no intention of going into
the changing room with them - this was one fashion item the lads were not
going to rib him about! The briefs, becoming damper by the second would, he
reckoned, give the lad a lot of pleasure.  After all he'd worked out in
them and was about to empty a huge load inside them.  He imagined giving
them to Scott and watching the lad use them to wank with.  Working on his
cock furiously through the nylon, his head swirling with images of Scott
pulling on his hard cock while his mouth was stuffed with David's briefs
soon had Becks' balls churning. Feeling his balls in their nylon pouch he
was just about to put his hand inside his briefs and really start pumping
when there was a knock at his door.

"Shit!" thought Beck's, wondering whether to ignore it or not.

The door however, was rapped again.

"Hang on," shouted David, "coming."

He quickly found his shorts and pulled them on, leaving his top hanging out
to hide his thankfully subsiding erection. Becks went over to the door and
opened it to be met by the sight of Michael Owen.

"Michael! Hi, come in," said Becks.

"Thanks Dave, hope I haven't disturbed you?" answered young Owen standing
in the hallway.

"Nah, was just gonna have a bath s'all"

"Oh, well, I can go. I only came to see if you wanted to play snooker or
have a few quick holes before dinner."

"S'okay, come in and have a beer, I haven't seen you for a while. You just
got in?"

Becks was delighted to see Owen; he really liked the teen and, if truth is
told, fancied him like fuck. Owen was a hot striker and a hot stud puppy
too.  Smaller than Beck's at 5'9", Michael Owen was all compact and trim,
still almost boyish in his 19 years of development, yet powerfully muscular
too, though not in any way bulky or over developed. He had brown hair, cut
short and neat, and deep brown-green eyes, and possessed a winning
smile. Unfortunately for England's football prospects, in a game they had
to win, Michael was unavailable for selection. He had torn a hamstring and
was still resting. However, he had come down to spend a couple of days with
the England camp to keep in touch and allow the player and the new manager
to get to know each other better.

"I got in a couple of hours ago. Just had a swim in the pool," answered
Michael.  Indeed, noticed Becks there did seem to be a slight perfume of
chlorine about the teen and his hair was still damp too he noticed.

Michael followed David into the room as Becks wandered over to the fridge.
He opened it paused and asked,"Lager, okay?"

"Sure."

Beckham opened a couple of bottles and wandered over back to his bed. He
motioned for Michael to sit down and Michael chose a chair opposite the
bottom of the bed.

"So how's things?" asked David.

"Pretty good, thanks," replied Michael.

Soon the two lads were chatting about injuries, the upcoming game, the
price of fame, and what they were doing with their respective summer
break's. Beck's cock was dormant, nestled in his briefs and shorts and as
he lay on the bed chatting to Michael. David relaxed, drawing up one knee
and putting his hands around the back of his pillow, cradling his
head. Michael was dressed in a light blue polo shirt and was wearing navy
blue tracksuit bottoms, Adidas, with buttoned sides.  The youth wore blue
Adidas open sandals and no socks. The hunky teen was chatting animatedly,
as the two soccer idols shared experiences and stories.  At times though
Michael seemed distracted, which was fine with Becks as it allowed him to
snatch glimpses of the young soccer stud looking all rosy and fresh after
his recent swim. The light blue shirt clung to the young soccer star's
chest and the nipples were clearly semi-hard.

Michael's basket looked invitingly `full' thought Becks. As Michael was
sitting pushed down in his chair with legs apart Becks could clearly see
the blue nylon clinging to cock and balls and a hint of material caught up
in the ass crack. As he thought of kneeling there between Owen's legs and
kissing that promising bulge he absentmindedly adjusted himself in his
shorts, his cock stirring slightly. Michael casually pulled up his left
foot and rested it on his right knee while obviously rearranging his cock
hurriedly.

"Pity I can't see," thought Becks.

What Becks could also not see was the view that young Michael had slumped
in his chair. David still glowed from his own earlier exertions and from
the after effects of a near orgasm. Becks was laid out on the bed in front
of Owen, his golden locks contrasting sharply with the whiteness of the
pillow cradling his head. The white nylon soccer shirt, still damp from
exercise, clung to every ripple of the lad's torso. In putting his arms
behind his head Becks had allowed a small gap to appear between shorts and
shirt. In that gap, tanned golden skin and wispy bronzed hair lay warm and
inviting. With one leg drawn up, the navy blue shorts had ridden up and
bunched around an ample crotch to reveal the merest hint of a smooth inner
thigh. He looked like an Adonis, a Ganymede offering the cup of himself. In
short, a hot young soccer God waiting to be worshipped and adored.

Michael stood up and went to look out of the window, leaning forward
slightly, clearing his throat. Becks could see the outline of a pair of
briefs running across the hot young footie player's arse. The trackies had
indeed got caught in Owen's ass crack accentuating the ripeness of the
buttocks. They were like fruit waiting to be picked. Like a moth drawn to a
flame, Beckham stirred from the bed and headed over to those magnificent
cheeks, positioning himself behind and slightly to the right of young
Owen. He desperately wanted to close the gap, mere inches, between them. He
wanted to push his rapidly hardening cock into those cheeks and kiss the
beautiful nape of Owen's neck, with its soft golden hairs glistening in the
sunlight streaming through the window. The behind of Michael's ears and
neck seemed red, somewhat flushed, thought Becks. Flushed from the
swimming, or...?

"Lovely day ain't it?" said Beckham.

"Yeah, but God I'm bored." answered Michael, shaking his head. "Millionaire
footballers, trapped here, with time on our hands waiting for dinner. I
feel like a naughty schoolboy sometimes!"

"Ah, the burdens of fame and talent," laughed Becks, "if only the folks
knew."  Suddenly, feeling emboldened, sensing rather than knowing, he
continued, treading softly, light-heartedly, but hoping, daring...

"Besides if you did have a naughty schoolboy, what would you do with him
anyway?"

"True," answered Owen, seemingly at a pause.

Ruefully, wistfully? wondered Becks, hardly daring to hope. The lust that
had been dammed up by Michael's arrival, which had hovered just beneath the
surface of his thoughts, had taken a hold of him now. Gripped by the heat
of his desire and the closeness of young Owen, (he could smell him for
fuck's sake), he knew he should walk away now before it was too
late. "God," he thought, "don't fuck this up, you idiot!" The consequences
could be dire.

"I suppose I could always give him a good fucking," continued Owen
laughing, continuing to stare forward, suddenly nervous, edgy, his neck and
ears now bright red. "Err, anyway, I'd better go. Let you get off, err I
mean on. Let you take your bath." The youth's voice was suddenly all husky
and tight. "Thanks for the..."

"Shush," whispered Becks into Michael's ear, pressing his cock into the
mound of Michael's buttocks, his left hand at Owen's lips - silencing him,
his right hand groping the lad's basket - pulling him tight against
him. "I'm not a naughty schoolboy but I did need a good fucking," he
continued, "and from the feel of it you're ready to give one too." At
grabbing the lad's body, Michael had gone rigid, taut. Except his cock,
surely? That was hard when Becks got to it and it couldn't possibly have
gotten any harder. Could it? It felt like it was trying to rip its way out
of the trackies already.

Becks gently kissed the nape of Michael's neck and took three steps
backwards pulling Owen with him away from the window.

"No need for the world to see. We wouldn't want to destroy the dreams of
your admirers would we? Except this one of course, who's hoping to fulfil
them."  "Yeah", answered Michael shyly, while turning around to face
Beckham, "you've lots of admirer's too, and this one is about to get just
what he wants from you." Owen's brown-green eyes sparkled, and his face was
lit up by a lusty grin.  Putting both hands to Owen's arse Becks pulled the
younger lad into him, their hot firm bodies seemingly melting into
one. Owen quickly returned the compliment cupping Beckham's firm ass with
his hands as the two lads' cocks pressed against each other, throbbing and
bucking as though each sort dominance. Becks looked into Owen's deep puppy
dog eyes and smiling leaned forward to kiss the hot young star. Michael
opened his mouth to receive the kiss; lips sucked, tongues licked, as the
two lads surrendered to their mutual desire. While lost in their passionate
oral exchange and the thrusting of nylon clad cocks neither lad forgot to
explore the other. Becks' fingers probed Owen's arse, feeling the firm
cheeks through the slinky nylon, he carefully explored the ridge of the
briefs underneath and probed the ass crack, feeling the heat of the boy's
hole.  Beckham's ass transfixed Michael; he delighted in the feel of the
smooth nylon running over rock hard cheeks. He sensed the potency and power
of the flanks and, like his partner, could not resist burrowing towards the
lad's hot hole.  David took the lead, breaking off from the kiss to begin
exploring Michael further. He gently lowered Owen's head and inhaled the
smell of his hair, a mixture of chlorine and almonds, before playing on the
fringe with his tongue and licking the lad's forehead. He caressed the
eyelids with his lips and sucked on the boy's smooth cheeks and chin before
licking the neck. Running his hands over the lad's shirt he played with the
nipples, tweaking them through the cotton polo shirt, and felt the power
and form of the teen stud's back.  Michael was not idle either: he played
with Becks nips, feeling their hardness through the nylon soccer shirt and
explored the ridges of the 6-pack beneath. Becks slowly extracted Michael's
shirt from his trackies and pulled the shirt up over the lad's arms and
head, pausing briefly to sniff it, he cast it to the floor.  David
marvelled at the young teen's smooth powerful torso, the dark chocolate
nipples standing proud, the flat pec's and the blossoming 6-pack. Michael
had a pert navel and a golden trail of light peachy fuzz flowed down into
the sea of blue trackies.

Owen returned the favour, tugging off Becks soccer shirt, static crackling
over Beckham's hair. Beckham stood revealed, he possessed a hairless chest
containing two erect bronze nipples, rock hard abs and a well toned
6-pack. Light brown downy hair was sprinkled across the track that led to
his shorts. Smiling at David young Michael kissed the footie shirt and
putting his hand into it he used it to briefly stroke Becks butt. The young
lad then kissed Becks again before returning the earlier favour by
anointing the soccer star's hair, face and chin with his spittle. He
drooled over David's chest and licked his way over the shoulders before
delving deep into the young man's armpits, inhaling his manliness and
tasting his labours. David shuddered as Michael began to work on his
nipples, licking and sucking them, playfully flicking at them with his
fingers. The teen continued to roam. Sucking at the navel, licking the
6-pack, he wandered far and wide leaving neither flesh or muscles un-tasted
and un-adored. Michael delighted in David's salty sweetness and the odour
of the lad's musk filled his nostrils. Beckham gasped as Owen slowly licked
up his spine and nuzzled the nape of his neck while hands played at his
nipples and chest.  Wanting desperately to grab his cock and start pumping
Beckham turned his attention instead to Michael. He pleasured Michael and
himself by licking the young lad's upper body. Nibbling on the dark
succulent nipples, scouring the armpits with is tongue, drenching the
golden down in spittle - darkening and defining it. Michael was savoury and
sweet, smelling and tasting of chlorine and sandalwood. Hungrily, Becks
lapped at the youth's neck, sucked on the hard abs and devoured the pert
navel, excavating its essence.

Kneeling behind the youth Becks traced his hand across Michael's hard
trackie covered ass, teasing and taunting it before leaning forward to
inhale and kiss.  As his nose and mouth made contact with the shiny
material he moved his hands around to the groin, stroking the hardness they
found there and revelling in the weight of the cradled load. The smell was
stronger now, more pungent, the taste of youthful arse in nylon a pleasure
unalloyed. Stroking and massaging, hands exploring trackie covered legs and
thighs David slowly turned Owen around to inspect his prize. The front of
the trackies bulged obscenely, the ridges of shaft and head of an erect
penis that strained for release at the left hip were clearly visible and at
the tip of the cock the blue material was darkened by moisture. Beckham
cupped the package, feeling the weight, balls rolling in their soft
pouch. His fingers traced the outline of over 7 inches of hard soccer-cock,
recording the shaft and the ridge of the meat helmet. David leaned forward
and kissing the balls he traced his way up the shaft with his tongue and
finally sucked on the cockhead tasting the juices trapped within. Bending
down he eased the sandals off Michael's feet and putting his hands to the
waistband of the trackies he eased them over the boyish hips, sliding then
down the powerful thighs.

"I thought you'd been swimming?" said Becks.

"Err, yes," answered Michael reddening, seemingly embarrassed "I put these
on after, I like to wear `em sometimes. Love the feel."

"Hmm, magnificent," answered Beckham; "they certainly are damp," feasting
on the boy's sodden pouch with his eyes.

Michael, having kicked off his trackies, was standing in a pair of tight
red wine coloured Speedos. His cock stood rigid, forcing the filmy material
off from his waist. The Speedos were drenched with precum that had oozed
through the material and that had been smeared across the shaft by the
gyrations of the pair's thrusting. Two full balls were clearly visible and
apart from the golden trail there wasn't a hair in sight. The Speedos
looked like skin, so close hugging were they, growing out of the powerful
thighs and honey hips. Becks kissed the Speedo clothed cock and momentarily
savoured the juices that lay on the material.

"Do mine and let's get down to business," begged Becks, standing up before
Owen, his face straining with desire and ache, behind the boyish smile.
"Certainly sir!" answered Michael lustily, grinning from ear to ear.
Kneeling behind Beckham Michael stroked the lad's arse in his shorts and
kissed the cheeks, probing the ass crack with his tongue. David tasted of
sweet salt and smoke and smelled of a piquant musk. Revelling in the feel
of nylon sliding over hard muscle Michael explored Beckham's crotch,
feeling, touching, tasting and smelling. It was obvious that Becks was well
packed and Michael rested his cheek on the nylon-clad cock, bathing in its
heat. The front of the shorts revealed traces of precum, percolating
through the distended nylon and Michael lapped hungrily wishing for the
moment not to end. However, knowing there was more pleasure to come, he
disciplined himself and tugged at David's shorts pulling them down the
smooth thighs and lean muscled legs.

"Fuck!" exclaimed Owen, awe-struck, "beautiful, fucking beautiful," as he
reached out, tremulously, to feel the glossy powder blue nylon briefs that
Becks wore. The briefs contained a good eight inches of hot throbbing
manmeat and like Owen's were smeared and sodden with precum, only in this
case the juices lay thick and glistening, shimmering in the light upon an
ocean of blue.  "Now, now. Patience my boy. Let's keep our shape!" laughed
David, flicking away the shaking hand that was reaching hungrily for his
briefs. He pulled up young Michael and kissed him, thrusting his glutinous
nylon pouch into the young pup's Speedos. The lads kissed passionately,
mashing cocks together, both sets of hands instinctively reaching for the
others ass. Revelling in the sensation of firm tight cheeks clad in thin
slippery material the two youths pulled and thrust at each other, grabbing
handfuls of nylon and muscle. The two cocks, crammed inside gossamer thin
materials, slid across each other, neither been able to achieve purchase or
grip. Their slippery juice sodden pouches, endlessly circled around each
other, locked in a dance, like a Matador and his prey, seeking
advantage. As David took a step back, the two cloth-covered bulges became
distinct again, separate entities, no longer bound by the adhesive of
precum that had melded them as one. Both cocks were clearly visible through
the stretched and saturated material, a thick globule of sap falling from
Beckham's blue sheathed tip fell to the floor. Michael's eyes followed it
hungrily and without thinking he rubbed his toe in it wishing to soak it up
into himself, like a plant drawing life through its roots.

"Come on," invited Beckham, dropping onto the bed, "let's fuck 4-4-2 and
play a straightforward 69." His eyes were burning with desire and sex, as
he propped himself on his left shoulder and side. To Michael he seemed
irresistible as he quickly scampered onto the bed to join his new soccer
sexmate. Michael settled down opposite and inverted to Beckham. Each lad
feasted upon the sight confronting him, a skimpy sack, chock-a-block with
cock and weeping sexjuices.  The pleasure felt at the discovery of such a
treasure was heightened by the knowledge that they had, each in their own
way, helped to create such art as was before them.

As he beheld the slopping wet jam-packed Speedos, only inches from his face
Beckham laughed.

"What?" asked young Michael eagerly, interrupted from his own musings upon
the powder blue nylon briefs that were tantalizingly close to his lips -
bursting at the seams and overflowing with thick precum. "What's so fucking
funny?"

"Was just thinking of what our fans would make of this," said Becks.

"Reckon they might not be disappointed. Some of `em anyway," replied
Michael.  Each youth was well aware of the large gay following they
had. Indeed both lads had checked out their many sites on the net, and what
is more, had both wanked off to pictures of the other. Luckily the time for
dreams had passed and unspoken desires merely awaited fulfillment.

Beckham laughed at Michael's comment and added one of his own.

"Think of the press too. We could take a pic and if we fell on hard times
could live forever off the proceeds."

"Sure," replied Owen, "set up our own website too and charge. But for now
`hard times' means something else." Giggling boyishly he zeroed in on
Beckham's pouch and started to lap greedily, feeding on the thick generous
precum, wondering just how substantial a meal he was going to receive if
this was only the hors d'oeuvres. Feeling the hot tongue at his cock and
hands already searching his ass Beckham settled down to graze on Michael's
Speedos. Michael slurped and munched contentedly on Becks' precum, sucking
at the cock, taking the sweet, sticky nylon mushroom into his mouth,
drinking deeply from the fountain of Beckham's manhood. His hands delved
under the nylon ass cheeks and his fingers, seemingly making no impression
on Beckham's marbled ass, soon sought the smooth velvety skin under the
balls and the hot moist hole radiating heat, slippery with sweat. David
softly moaned encouragement and the reassured young lad soon penetrated the
cavity with his finger. Becks' ass-lips hungrily clamped on the intruding
digit and pulled him deeper into his anus, his cock bucking in response to
the invasion wept precum in profusion.

Michael's precum was not as thick as Becks' but it was deliciously sweet
and tangy and having extracted all that he wanted for the moment David's
mouth set off to find pastures new. The soccer star moved agonisingly
slowly down the shaft, using his teeth and spittle to stimulate and excite,
making Owen exhale a deep soft groan of pleasure. His nose probed the hot
aromatic balls and soon his tongue savoured their ripeness as first one,
then both were bathed and eaten in the furnace of his mouth. Becks eased
his hands inside the lad's Speedos, up and across the cheeks. As he did so
he felt a waft of warm air on his cheek and he discerned the pungent,
slightly acrid aroma of Owen's young boy-hole.  Greedily he pushed his
mouth into the Speedo garbed ass-crack and pulling the cheeks apart pushed
the slick wet material into the orifice with his tongue.  Michael's cock,
pushed up against Beckham's chest, bucked wildly, smearing it with his
lube. David eased down the Speedos over the hard straw-coloured cheeks and
buried his nose and mouth deep in Michael's crack, inhaling the pure smell
of Owen and tasting his ripe fruity hole. He pulled on the buttocks,
opening the petals of the soccer lad's rosebud and snaked his tongue deep
inside, eating the deliciously hot forbidden fruit, his tongue on fire with
its rich seasoned flavour.

Michael, who at this point had Beckham's balls in his mouth, feeling them
slip and slide in their wet and tacky nylon hammock, almost blew his load
as Beck's tongue penetrated him. "Agghh," he exclaimed, "Go easy mate, I
almost lost it thereeeee!" he screeched, his voice reverting to its
pre-`broken' pitch as Becks added a finger to the fire in his ass.

"Hmmm, mmm," nodded David, still buried in Owen's fundament. Though whether
in sympathy or encouragement Michael couldn't tell.

"Mm, mm, yourself! Let's see how you go on," said Michael now sweating
profusely. His body on fire, leaking lust from every pore, seemed to glow
with heat and ardent expectation. Both lads were drenched in sweat, spittle
and precum, and their gilded bodies shimmered in the light, filmy with
lust, incandescent with sex.

Michael pushed his head deeper through Beckham's soft, smooth thighs, his
hair brushing past causing David to tingle with excitement. Michael peeled
the nylon briefs of the rock-hard buttocks and like Beck's exerted leverage
with his hands to open the dark secrets of David's asshole. He thrust his
tongue forcefully deep into Beck's tasting his succulent unventilated core,
licking David out, drawing him into himself.

"Oh God, yes!" cried Becks, luxuriating in the feel of Owen's hot tongue
deep within him, his bowels seemingly become molten and fluid. Eagerly his
hands flew to Owen's head attempting to pull him further into his arse,
while he willed his boyhole wider to allow Michael full reign. Like Beck's
Michael thrust a finger into the molten void and rigorously pleasured his
partner.

Both lad's sensed they were close to the point of no return and as one they
withdrew their lips from each others ass and headed off to drink thick hot
footie-cum. Neither lad was so insensitive as to leave their gaping hungry
holes unattended and both left a couple of fingers deep within each other
to assist in their goal.

"Great minds and all that," laughed Owen, moving towards David's cock,
recognising the synchronicity of their movements, "Pity we're not on the
same team."

"We are, you dumb bastard. We're on Team England!" laughed Becks about to
gulp down Owen's cock.

"Mm, and both going for goal!" quipped Owen as he went down on Beckham's
ballooning knob. The nylon briefs being pulled down at the back had
loosened their grip on Becks' raging hard-on and it was an easy task for
Michael to take the nylon sheathed cockhead into his mouth. The youngster
was soon supping greedily on the copious man juices passing through the
flimsy material.  Precum and drool pooled in Beckham's briefs. Michael
continued to explore Becks' ass and with his free hand gently feathered the
soccer star's pole in his gooey glossy briefs.

David knew he would not last longer under such an assault, though gorging
on Michael's meaty Speedo-attired mushroom head equally stimulated
him. Like his own, the loosened Speedos allowed easy accommodation of
Michael's thick slab in his mouth. The lad's precum was now pouring into
David's mouth and the two fingers and thumb burrowed deep into the tight
cherry ass were keeping things flowing nicely. Suddenly, Owen tensed he
began jerking uncontrollably, his hands flying to Beckham's head, holding
him tightly, as the teen soccer hero spewed out his load, crying David's
name. David began drinking thirstily as sweet hot boymilk soaked through
the drenched Speedos. Owen continued to thrust forward pouring hot steaming
cream straight down Beckham's throat. David had never tasted better, the
spunk, sieved through the Speedos was hot and ambrosial, salty and
luscious. His nose was full of Owen's pubes that reeked of exertion and
new-mown hay. Beck's continued to work the young ass and squeezed the lad's
pole, milking every drop from the bloated balls.

With an intensity that took even himself by surprise Becks suddenly
erupted, his man-tool boiling over and shooting thick wads of cum straight
through the pathetically thin wet briefs, soaked long past the point of
absorbency, straight down Michael's throat. Michael couldn't believe what
he was consuming, the cum was immensely strong, acrid and rich, like salted
butter, and the intensity!  His throat was being peppered by rifle shots of
cream, like a paint-ball he thought, as Becks thrust mercilessly into his
mouth. Young Owen's mouth was soon overloaded and his lips and chin were
frothed with escaped soccer-spunk that coagulated upon Beckham's
balls. David continued to pump, emptying his pent-up load, his desires and
frustrations. Holding Owen's head he pulled away from the lad's mouth and
shot his last drops straight into the teen's face, bathing him in cum,
splattering his hair, caking his face.

Exhausted and spent the two lads fell apart before Owen spun himself around
and snuggled upto the elder youth. Settling his head on David's chest he
drew his right leg up and across Beckham's legs, hooking the midfielder
close to his body.

"God, was I ready for that," exclaimed Michael.

"Yeah, me too," answered Becks toying with Owen's hair, surveying his cum
glistening in globules that crowned the teen soccer prince. "But playing
for Team England means we must give our best."

"Our best?" queried Owen, rolling his head back to look quizzically at
Becks with deep doleful eyes, his cum dripping cheek breaking free from the
smooth hairless chest it had adhered to.

"Sure," said Beck's, "we've scored one goal but should aim for three. A
real hat-trick."

"Ah," said Owen, smiling, suddenly understanding.

"Yep, I still need fucking," said Becks, cheekily, "and then I'm gonna have
to fuck you. That is, of course, if you have the stamina. After all you're
not a champion like me!"

"Stamina! I'll show you stamina" giggled the boyish Owen. "You wait `til I
get inside your 6-yard box. I'm deadly."

"Sounds promising, but come on you've got to be impressed with my shooting
power?" said Becks, fingering a large blob of cum drying upon Owen's
fringe.

"Tell me about it! I couldn't fucking believe it. Straight through your
briefs too! How'd you manage it?"

"It's all in the muscles. Well, actually that's a load of bollocks," said
Becks laughing, his eyes sparkling, "I just do. Don't the experts keep
saying I'm a natural?"

"Yep, lucky for me that I am too. You ready to test my stamina?"

"I think the whistle has just gone for the second half," said Beck'
invitingly, sensing the stirrings in Michael's soggy Speedos pressed
against his thigh.  Michael sat up, he tousled Beck's hair and grinning
from ear to ear announced, "I think you better help me get prepared then."

Straddling David's firm chest the youth settled down to present his
slopping package. Becks felt the weight of Michael on his chest and studied
the wine coloured Speedos that were darkened by the moisture of cum and
drool, swelling with hardening fuckmeat. Eagerly Becks' mouth opened as
Michael lifting himself forward pressed his groin to David's mouth. Beckham
was overcome by the feel of his face being smeared with Speedos and warm
cum as he went to work on Michael's meat. Becks took hold of the Speedos
and pulled them down over the cock, then taking a grip on Michael's spongy
balls he hooked the swimming trunks underneath them.

Owen's cock stood erect and proud, slick with cum. It was over 7 inches
long, an angry deep red and very thick. The fleshy foreskin was drawn back
to reveal a deep purple orb, a bulbous princely diadem that was already
leaking lube, trickling from its eye. Propped underneath and cradled by the
pressing Speedos, sat two massive hairless balls; dark golden sacks
distended and alive. They seemed to be moving, churning, and busy at work
producing cream for expulsion.  Surrounding the cock young Owen's peachy
down flared, embroidering his flat lean muscles, speckled with matted dots
of cum. Becks fondled the hefty balls, feeling their weight and rotundity,
sensing their potency.

"Fuck me!" said Becks; "You carry two spare match balls with you."

"Hmmm, I never like to be without. Just in case," said Michael with pride
flattered and delighted that his teammate admired his balls. David leaned
forward to kiss them, licking them, cleaning them he nibbled at the
delicious fruit. With great difficulty he managed to stuff them both in his
mouth, working them over in the heat of his oral oven, getting them hot and
ready. While his mouth was full of sweetmeats Michael's cock rested on his
cheek, twitching from time to time, reminding Becks that it was there, it
was hungry and needed attention. Popping the balls out of his mouth David
licked up the shaft, feeling the soft velvety foreskin sliding over the
meaty pole. Finally he came to the thick bulging cockhead and slowly,
deliberately; he swallowed and in one movement slid Michael down his throat
his nostrils abutting in the sweet smelling pubes.

"Oh yeah, take the lot!" enthused Michael as Becks' hands grasped the
sweet-cheeked buttocks, pulling the youth deep into him. Becks savoured the
cum stained cock, slobbering over the shaft, licking the head at its
sensitive apex, exploring its mouth with the tip of his tongue. David's
cock-sucking skills were considerable and he responded naturally to the
rhythm of Owen's gentle face fucking. Owen toyed with Beckham's hair,
running his fingers through the golden locks, grabbing tufts and forcing
him onto his urgent, hungry cock.  Reluctantly, knowing that this load was
meant for Beckham's butt, Owen withdrew his prick from the hot moist
hole. A thin tendril of precum and spittle, glistening in the light, hung
between Owen's cock and David's lip before finally breaking to fall upon
the midfielder's chin and chest.

Getting up from Beckham Michael slipped off his Speedos and reached for
Beckham's sopping nylon briefs. The powder blue briefs bulging and wet
looked magnificent. Michael fondled them and kissed them before gently
pulling them down. He put them to his face, inhaled and licked, before
putting them next to his Speedo's. Studying Beckham's cock made his mouth
water. Like body, like cock, he thought. The prick was beautifully
proportioned, over 8 inches of chiselled hard manmeat, it was flawless,
possessing a bronzed hue, and it seemed to glow and pulse with life. The
shaft was unblemished, smooth like steel, currently glossy and slick with
thick veins of cum clinging to it like a suckling child with its mother. It
wasn't as thick as Michael's cock, being more rapier than bludgeon, though
it was crowned with a dark meaty mushroom that lay revealed and unsheathed
by the silky sleeve of foreskin. The balls were in exact proportion too,
Michael noticed, not too big or too small, just right. They were hairless
and almost unwrinkled the taut skin a slightly darker shade of bronze; they
looked like tiny ripe melons ready to give up their juices. The golden
peachy fuzz of the pubes was perfectly triangular in their shape, lightly
scattered they contrasted sharply with the flawless skin.

"You like?" asked Beckham, noticing the hunger in Michael's eyes.

"Its just so - perfect," replied Owen, whispering in awe, "so beautiful!"

"It keeps me happy," said Becks smiling, knowing that young Owen was
hooked, that this was to be no one off. Mind you, he wasn't exactly free
himself.  Michael had just as effectively captivated him with his beauty
and power.

"Do you have any lube?" asked Michael.

"Yeah, there's some body rub oil in the bathroom. Often use it after games
and workouts."

"Me too," said Michael, getting up from the bed and heading off to the
bathroom.  Finding the oil he returned and once again marvelled at his
luck. Studying Becks splayed on the bed he saw hands behind the head that
revealed firm rippling muscles and lean powerful legs spread wide that
displayed full round balls and hard cock standing proud from the lower
abdomen. Michael scampered up on to the bed, kneeling between Beckham's
legs. Dropping the oil he took hold of Becks behind his knees and pulled,
lifting the legs before pushing them forward. David settled deeper into the
bed transferring his weight onto his shoulders, drawing his knees up by his
ears, and holding them there with his hands. David looked up to see his
hard cock and balls, almost in his face, and over the twin mounds of his
cheeks, Michael's smiling face.

Beckham's hole lay open to Michael, the skin dark pink and puckered. What
few hairs lie there were still darkened and damp from his earlier
ministrations.  Lowering his face he buried himself in the mounds of hard
lean flesh, kissing and licking the buttocks, his hands reaching around to
tweak Becks' hard nipples. Gradually he worked his way to the hole and
tongued David's arse, munching noisily, slurping, and enjoying the tangy
flavour. Removing his tongue he reached for the bottle of oil and, opening
it, smeared his fingers liberally before pouring some into David's anal
cup. The oil felt cool at first and David twitched as it seeped into his
anus. Michael slowly popped a finger into Becks' lubricated ass, working
the oil in, stimulating the prostate gland, watching David's rock hard cock
buck and quiver. Soon Michael had worked three fingers into the lad's
gaping hole, gently fucking him. Becks was moaning softly, uttering words
of encouragement, begging for Owen to fuck him.

Removing his fingers Michael smeared some oil on his thick raging prick.
Lifting himself he took hold of his cock and smeared it across Beck's arse
drizzling oil and precum upon the cheeks. Guiding his missile he placed his
bulbous cockhead at the entrance to David's shrine. He looked at David
enquiringly, teasing him, raising an eyebrow in an unspoken question.

"For God's sake, yes!" begged David, "Fuck me."

"Never miss an opportunity in the 6-yard box," said Michael, laughing.
David relaxed as Michael entered him, his lips greedily pulling the young
lad in. His arse had never taken such a thick cock and he willed his
muscles to stretch and accommodate the lad. Having pushed his cockhead into
the tight firm ass Michael placed his hands at the back of Beckham's
knees. Pinning him to the bed he slowly eased his thick meaty shaft into
the lad knowing he had reached his goal when his balls pressed against the
tips of muscled cheeks. David moaned encouragement; his ass stuffed with
thick young cock and soon Michael began to pick up speed, thrusting
powerfully, his body drenched and sparkling with perspiration. The two lads
soon achieved a harmonious rhythm that rang to the tune of Michael's balls
slapping against David's ass.

Beckham's ass muscles seemed to be as well developed as the rest of him and
they held young Owen in a vice like grip, squeezing him, devouring him, and
seeking fulfilment. The teen fuckstud felt his cock and balls on
fire. Taking a hand off one of Beck's legs, though never missing a stroke,
Michael fumbled on the bed with his hand. Finding what he sought, he
grabbed hold of his discarded cummy Speedos and thrust them into David's
face.

"Eat `em," demanded Owen, his eyes blazing with lust, "eat `em while I fuck
you prettyboy."

David needed no such prompting he devoured the trunks, cramming his mouth
with the slick material, sucking on them, tasting Owen and his
juices. Michael's cock, stretching his hole to its limits, seemed to be
scratching an itch he never knew had existed.

The sight of his Speedos stuffed in Beckham's mouth sent Michael over the
top.  He brutally thrust deep into the furnace of Becks' ass and ejaculated
his load.  Pumping, emptying himself in frenzy, he poured his jism into
David. Becks almost unloaded too, as he felt molten cum surge through him
it was only the fact that he was desperate to empty himself into Owen's hot
ass that saved him.  That and the fact that he squeezed his balls, just
managing to stay the flow of spunk that had been about to start flowing.

Gradually Michael's jerking subsided and he withdrew his cork from the bung
of David's arse with a satisfying pop. David, casting the Speedos to one
side, dropped his legs down and embraced Michael, hugging him, kissing his
hair and face. Grinding his still hard cock into the lads deflated tube.

"Thanks," said David, looking flushed, "that was awesome."

"Give me a moment," said Michael, breathless and exhausted, as he lay on
top of the lad, feeling the demands of Becks' insistent cock.

"Sure," replied Beckham easily, smiling "I can wait. A couple of minutes
anyway.  I think"

"You're a hella'va fuck Becks."

"I'm a hella'va fucker too."

At saying this he rolled the youth over and straddled him, pushing his cock
into Michael's groin, pinning the youth's arms into the bed, he enquired,
"How`d you want it?"

"Horny fucker," laughed Owen. "I don't think I've had one so long. Take me
doggy."

"Hmmm, in your case, more puppy I think. Perhaps even a studpuppy," replied
Beck's easing himself up onto Michael's young well-developed chest. "Take
this," he said, pushing his pulsing tool into the soccer star's mouth. "Get
it good and ready."

Michael struggled to accommodate the long greasy pole, the thick mushroom
head soon banging at his tonsils. Beckham took hold of Michael's head and
adjusted its angle slipping himself deep down the lad's throat, his balls
butting against the smooth chin. Michael's mouth felt full of hot hard meat
as Becks' eased back allowing the teen to lick and clean his shaft. He
shuddered as Owen's tongue explored his foreskin and helmet and gasped as
the lad nibbled on his silky skin. Taking his cock out he smeared it over
the lad's face and presented his perfect balls for washing. Michael eagerly
gave them a tongue-bath, chewing on them, savouring their completeness and
smoothness.

Patting the boy on the head David withdrew and Owen flipped himself over,
crouching on all fours, the pert cherried arse offered, open and ready.
Becks stooped down and attacked the magnificent cheeks with his tongue, his
hands running over Michel's back and sides. He licked the lad out, rimming
him mercilessly, making Michael gasp and harden. Soon oily fingers were at
his butt penetrating, exploring, and preparing him for the invasion to
come. Becks' fingers sensed the heat of the hot boyhole and no longer able
to wait he smeared some oil on his cock and thrust forward. Spearing the
lad in one go he penetrated all the way in one swift fluid movement, his
balls resting against firm hot flesh. Michael felt that David must have
come to rest somewhere in his stomach, he felt full of cock, yet remarkably
comfortable, at ease with what was in him. He felt at one, moulding himself
around Becks' manmeat, an extension of Becks, willing and awaiting his
Master's demands.

Putting his hands to young Michael's powerful shoulders Becks steadied
himself.  He had nearly lost it upon entering the boy's hole. So firm, so
tight, and the heat! Surely his cock must have melted, he wondered? His
prick felt snug.  encased in a hot and fluid embrace, yet held there too by
powerful muscles that sought to devour him. Losing himself in the
sensations of the fabulous teen's ass he began to pick up speed. Each
thrust spearing Owen, sending both boys quivering.  Each withdrawn
backstroke seemingly bringing regret as though the hole did not wish to
give up the prey that had been trapped within. David's vision seemed
blurred, his hearing lessened, it was as if his senses had all concentrated
upon the tip of his sensitive cockhead buried deep inside this heavenly
ass.  Seeing his nylon briefs on the bed David picked them up and wrapped
them around young Owen's cock, holding the hard shaft in a vice-like grip
he pumped to the rhythm of his fucking.

Michael was in heaven, his ass was burning, consumed with the fires of
pleasure, his cock sheathed in slick sticky nylon fucked lean firm
fingers. Although he could hardly believe it himself, he knew he was going
to cum buckets.  Thought of cum made him wonder what prodigious load Becks
was going to release him. The lad produced fucking gallons of the stuff, he
thought, so thick and full of life, what a lucky bitch Victoria was!

David was off his knees now fucking Owen as if his life depended on it.
Pushing into the lad from his toes, his whole weight concentrated in his
prick, his balls ached from their load and the pounding they were taking
between the Scylla and Charybdis of two hard lean bodies. A sudden spasm in
his balls, a tingling of intense pleasure, signalled the oncoming
eruption. Becks made one final Herculean thrust and shot steaming thick
spunk deep down the lad's tunnel.  The eruption in his arse caused Michael
to cum too as he disgorged the contents of his balls into Becks' hands and
briefs, spraying the bed linen and his chest.  Michael had never cum while
being fucked before - he found it a wondrous sensation, his ass gripping a
cock that was shooting cream, his loins squirting spunk in mutual
harmony. It seemed as though the spunk that Becks was shooting was merely
passing through him, to be emptied through his own rigid pole.  Feeling
Michael cum gave great pleasure to David as he voided his ballsack, hurling
its contents into Owen, filling him with his thick slimy seed. Young
Michael's ass could hardly cope and soon the backwash of cum flowed over
Beck's cock, lubricating the tight love tunnel. The thought of fucking
through his own cum only drove Becks to new heights. As the frothing
foaming cream spewed out of Michael's arse, to flow down his balls and pool
upon the bed, the sound of bodies slapping together through hot sticky jism
added further music to their labours.

At last the two lads subsided in their passion. Owen flopped to the bed and
David joined him, his cock gradually deflating and easing out of the tight
boy hole, its energy spent, its pent-up fuel consumed in the furnace of
Owen's arse.  Laid on the back of the youth, his cock cradled by the twin
pillows of gooey ass-cheeks, David kissed Michael's shoulder, licking the
sweat, and then whispered in his ear, "Thanks."

Michael felt secure with Beck's laid on top of him, as though no harm could
come to him. "Thanks here too. Why the fuck haven't we done this before?"

"Suppose it wasn't the right time, I guess."

"Yeah," mused Michael, turning his body under Becks, facing him and kissing
him briefly, "suppose you're right. But hey, once we got together Team
England managed a hat-trick. The deadly duo!"

"Yeah, you got that right," laughed Beck's, playfully flicking Owen's nose,
"besides you know I have a thing for trebles."

"Wish we played for the same team all the time," Michael sighed. The
realities of his club's position breaking his mood.

"Ah well, absence makes the heart grow fonder," said Beck's lifting himself
off Owen and standing by the bedside. "Besides I think a replay is needed
don't you?  I have a few new moves I want to try."

"A golden goal, penalties perhaps?" said Owen, arching an eyebrow, smiling.

"Come on," said Beck's taking Michael's hand and pulling him up off the
bed, "let's get cleaned up in the shower."

"Big enough for two, you think?" enquired Owen, suddenly tweaking David's
foreskin covered mushroom with forefinger and thumb.

"Certainly," said Beck's, "I've got some briefs you can borrow, perhaps
some trackies too? Just to get you to your room."

"You can have the Speedos," offered Michael as the pair of sex drained
lad's headed off to the bathroom, "Something to remember me by. In exchange
for yours of course?"

"Hey," laughed Beck's, as the two youths entered the bathroom, "there was
no way those Speedos were ever gonna leave this room. As for mine, well
they were meant for someone else, but sure, no probs."

"Someone else?" enquired Owen, looking curious, his cock twitching
involuntarily, wondering whom it could be.

"Yeah," said Beck's turning on the shower, his cock thickening a little at
the thought of Scott, "I'll tell you about it while you scrub my back..."


Enjoy this?  If you want to write a story with me, get in touch!
scott_justin51@hotmail.com