Date: Mon, 7 Oct 2013 22:47:32 -0400 From: Playoff Writer Subject: MLB playoffs (part 4) ALDS - Red Sox vs. Rays - Boston, MA MLB Playoffs 2013 (part 4) Disclaimer: This story is fiction and is not intended to imply anything about the true sexuality of the celebrities mentioned or any personal knowledge about their private lives. (Photo aids at the end.) Maybe someday a shrink could tell him why he did it, cause he sure as fuck didn't understand it himself. Now don't get me wrong -- Wil Myers was into dudes. The 22-year-old rookie right fielder for the Rays had owned that for a couple years now. Kept it bottled up in high school but as soon as he was drafted in '09 and found himself out on the Midwest plains, far from home back in Carolina, far from any of the women he knew, often far, in fact, from any women at all, just 18 years old with a sex drive to match both his age and his potential...well. It was only a matter of time before Wil Myers had turned to the only outlet he had. And with the tight, powerful 6'3, 200-pound frame the kid had on him, there was no lack of interest among his teammates. Even when he was promoted to the Carolina League and his old girlfriends looked him up, Wil often as not put them off and took a lean shortstop or fireballing pitcher home instead. By the time he was traded to Tampa and called up to the big leagues in June, Wil knew what he wanted and who he wanted it from. None of which explained how he decided to deal with that dropped fly ball in Game 1, the dropped fly ball that had made him a household name the next day, the dropped fly ball that he figured had more or less set his team on the path to finishing the season without a trophy. He was careful not to say anything on the field, or even in the clubhouse -- too many cameras, too many teammates who weren't in on the game Wil and so many others played on the side. He did the postgame press calmly, reciting the usual lines about how they'd be back tomorrow. But inside, all the kid could think about was getting tonight off his chest. And he somehow knew just how he was gonna do it. Salty responded to his text right away. Still a fuckin' horndog at 28, Jarrod Saltalamacchia was never one to turn down an offer to fuck a hot piece of ass, even in the middle of the goddamn playoffs. The specific request seemed a little off, and Salty answered that he didn't know who he'd be able to round up given the timing, but he'd see what he could do. As it turned out, he could do a lot. Apparently Wil's appeal was just as healthy as it had been all the way back in single-A, even though guys up here had a hell of a lot more to lose. Wil showed up around midnight at the dark brownstone a few blocks from the ballpark, dressed in a hoodie, jeans, and a pair of Shox -- just a kid like any other on the streets of Boston on a Friday night. He didn't have to buzz -- Salty was waiting. "C'mon in," the Red Sox catcher said with a smile. Wil didn't smile, but then this wasn't about Wil enjoying himself. At least, he didn't think so. The door shut and locked behind them. The house was tricked out, Wil noticed as they walked upstairs. Flat screens everywhere, multiple bars stocked with bottles, cans, and glasses. It was almost like his hosts did this kind of thing all the time. But when they reached the master suite upstairs, which was similarly appointed with a huge bed, a lounge, and a bathroom with a full jacuzzi, Wil realized that tonight was something out of the ordinary for all of them. He pulled off the hood of his jacket. "Fuck, you were serious!" That was Will Middlebrooks, the Sox third baseman. At 25, he was closest to Myers' age, and at 6'3, 200 himself, the closest to Myers' build as well. Middlebrooks was in a backwards Sox hat, gray Sox t-shirt and black athletic shorts, reclined in one of the leather chairs by the video game system, sipping a beer. "I told you, bro," Salty said matter-of-factly. He took a sip of his own drink, bourbon on the rocks, and reached down to grope himself openly through his sweats. He'd heard things about Myers and he was ready to fuckin' roll. Beside Middlebrooks, Jacoby Ellsbury was breathing out slowly. Of all of them, he was the one who'd never done...whatever they were gonna do, and he'd been half-hoping Salty was full of shit. But now, with Wil Myers standing in front of them, Ellsbury's dick suddenly swelled into his underwear and jeans; his well-conditioned body tensed as he silently took in the scene. Finally, reclined on the bed, was Stephen Drew. His face betrayed no reaction at all to seeing the young outfielder actually show, but his hand was already in his red Sox shorts fingering what looked like a very thick piece of MLB dick. "Fuck," Middlebrooks said again. "Well, is he ready to go?" He looked at Myers; somehow Wil thought it was appropriate that they were talking about him as if he weren't even here. He just nodded and unzipped his hoodie. It was all he wore on top, and Ellsbury let out a soft "wow" as Myers showed the appealing valley between his two full pectorals, the carefully honed definition of his tight abs, and the light trail of hair leading down from his stomach. That was all the prompting the third baseman needed. Middlebrooks set down his beer and stood, his dick already tenting his shorts. He walked over to Myers, eyeing the rookie a little warily. But Myers just stared right back at him, and the Sox infielder could tell there was nothing but determination and need in his eyes. He brought his mouth right up to Wil's. "I've wanted to fuck you for years, stud," he whispered. He waited as Myers breathed out shallowly, then surged forward and kissed the kid hard. He shoved off Myers' hoodie the rest of the way, leaving the rookie's well-made upper body exposed. His hands ran over Myers' pecs and tight stomach, then down to unbuckle Wil's belt and tug apart the button of his jeans, pushing them down too. "Mmmnnhh..." Middlebrooks groaned happily into the kiss as he felt that Wil Myers' full 8-inch cock was already hard and straining into his navy trunks. "Look at that cock...Jesus..." came Salty's voice from behind them. Wil took the initiative to kick off his shoes and let his jeans fall the rest of the way down. The trunks were next as Middlebrooks' hands dove beneath the waistband, one roughly groping Myers' terrific ass, the other feeling the hot, hard length of the kid's dick as it bulged obscenely into his underwear. Will made short work of that obstacle as he yanked them down, followed by his own shorts. He broke the kiss to pull back a few inches and stare down at Wil Myers' body, tight, bare and beautiful. "Fuck, you're hot," the pro ballplayer muttered. Then he spun Myers around and gave him a little push toward the bed. He grabbed the lube from Ellsbury, who was the only one of the three observers not frantically stroking his cock, and slicked up his high-curving 7-incher. Will Middlebrooks didn't fuck gently, nor did Myers expect him to. The rookie stayed on his hands and knees, biting his lip, feeling his dick throb, as Middlebrooks fucked him deep and hard. He didn't say anything, and although his dick quickly began to leak freely onto the bed and he couldn't stifle a few groans, he wouldn't have said he was enjoying this. But the third baseman knew how to fuck, and Myers was only half a minute or so from getting his own load fucked out of him when Middlebrooks grabbed Wil's broad lats and groaned one last "awh, fuck" as he came deep in Wil Myers' ass. Salty was next. The catcher was even bigger than Middlebrooks, standing 6'4, 235. He took Wil from behind too, though he actually pressed the young outfielder into the bed so Wil couldn't grab his own dick, but still had to hold back the impending eruption as Salty's deep thrusts made Wil's hard cock grind against the soft bedsheets. The catcher felt damn near twice as thick as Middlebrooks had, so even though he didn't fucking pound Myers like his teammate had, Wil still felt like he was being split in two. It wasn't long before Salty came inside him too, wrapping his thick paws around the lithe outfielder's narrow waist as he emptied himself into Myers' hole. Drew was ready when the burly catcher pulled out, sitting up at the head of the bed, his shirt and shorts gone. He quietly offered to wait, even asked if Wil needed some water or something, but Myers just looked at Drew's throbbing-hard dick rising into the air, red and pumping with Drew's arousal, and he just shook his head. Drew made Myers lube him up, shuddering a little as the kid's fingers moved too firmly over the sensitive tip. Myers took the hint from Drew's position and lowered himself onto the shortstop's dick. Drew licked his lips, holding his breath as he watched Wil Myers' face strain a bit as he felt Stephen Drew's cock slide into him. Soon, though, he was all the way in, and he let his mouth drop open as Wil slowly began fucking himself on the Sox shortstop's steel-hard spike. If there was any doubt about whether Myers would be willing to put in any more effort than just lying there and taking MLB dick, it was put to rest as the kid picked up the pace. His own hard 8-inch cock slapped against his abs as he slid up and down on Drew's shaft, making the usually taciturn infielder moan softly in pleasure. Drew was staring into Myers' eyes, watching those pale blue eyes stare right back. This had clearly started out as some kind of psychological release for Wil Myers, but Drew could see something had changed. The kid was enjoying it. Right on cue, Myers finally grabbed his own cock and started squeezing the base. He let his tongue run over his upper lip once. Wil could already feel his balls churning and he didn't dare lift his fingers any higher. He knew as Stephen Drew's hard cock grazed his nut once again that a single stroke would make him fucking explode. But Drew wasn't about to let the rook take that kind of control. He sat up a little higher in the bed, gripping the kid's hips with both hands, and with the power of his muscular midsection alone started fucking Wil Myers harder than ever before. Wil's eyes drifted closed, his lips parted. "Ungh," Drew grunted with the exertion, but it felt fucking amazing. God, the kid was tight, even after the deep-dicking Will and Salty had given him -- it occurred suddenly to him that this must be damn near the first time Myers had done this. Now Wil was grunting too, his hand stroking higher and higher on his fat cock as Stephen kept driving his dick home in the rookie's tight ass. Finally he broke the stare he'd been holding with Drew for almost two minutes and let out a low groan as he looked down at his cock. Fuck...Wil Myers had never seen himself so hard, all eight inches red and swollen, a fat vein bulging down the center of the shaft, the wide head almost purple, pre-come leaking freely from the slit. He looked back up at the Red Sox shortstop. "Fuck me..." he murmured. Drew marveled at the kid's stamina, but they'd beaten him on the field tonight, and he sure as fuck wasn't gonna be beat off it. He gritted his teeth and drove it up another notch. "Aunngh!" Myers groaned louder as the Sox infielder sank even deeper inside his untouched hole. His dick ached unbearably. Two more deep thrusts, and he couldn't resist any longer -- he tugged his curled fingers forward once, twice, then his abs clenched hard, his biceps swelled, his mouth opened wide, and Wil Myers came harder than he'd ever come before. Jizz sprayed like a fountain all over his stomach and chest; one shot even nailed the outfielder on the cheek. He could feel that Drew was coming too, soaking his insides just like his teammates had, but he was so wrapped up in his own explosion that he barely even noticed. It straight up felt amazing to get fucked, and get a load fucked out of him, and best of all Wil could almost feel the pain of that day pouring out of him as he unloaded his cream all over himself. By the time he was conscious again, Drew had pulled out and was lying back on the headboard, looking almost as fucked out as Wil felt but looking damn good all the same. Myers looked down at his cock -- he was still rock fucking hard. Fuck. He could almost go again, right now. "Aw, Ells. The kid came." Middlebrooks didn't mention that he'd come again too, in part thanks to Salty reaching over to finger the third baseman's own tight hole as both of them watched Drew fucking the Rays rookie. "Don't worry, Ells was only ever here to watch, I don't think he..." Salty drifted off as they turned to see Jacoby Ellsbury step forward. The center fielder's shirt had come off somewhere along the way and his cut, caramel-skinned upper body was glimmering with a sheen of sweat. Ellsbury's jeans were undone, and he was completely and obviously hard as fucking steel, his absurdly thick cock plainly visible as it snaked 8.5 inches across the front of his tight gray boxer briefs all the way to where the tip stuck an inch out above the waistband, held against the tight curve of his hip for now but straining to slip free. Ellsbury looked down at himself, then back up at the guys. "That was hot, dude," he breathed, apparently addressing Myers. "Mind if I...?" If Myers hadn't already given up the pretense that this was just some mental release when he begged Stephen Drew to fuck him, it wouldn't last a second longer. The Rays outfielder instantly climbed off the bed, his still-hard dick bouncing in front of him, and walked over to Ellsbury. Wil breathed out slowly. "I don't mind..." He put his left hand on Ellsbury's chest. "..if you do..." The other hand dug into the front of Ellsbury's jeans, hungrily feeling out the length of the Sox center fielder's prick. "...whatever you fucking want." And Wil Myers kissed Jacoby Ellsbury hard, feeling the bristle of Ellsbury's playoff beard, and the initial, shocked resistance of Ellsbury's lips before they happily parted and Ells kissed Myers back just as hard, tongues wrestling, his hands feeling the firm, beautifully tight curves of Wil Myers' lean rookie-jock body, feeling the shockingly strong, assertive grip of a man's hands on his own pecs and stomach and ass for the first time. Ellsbury gasped softly as Myers dug under his underwear and gripped the other outfielder's dick tight, stroking him just twice before he had to pull back with a grin. Then his own fingers were curling around Myers' hard cock and fuck but he couldn't believe how hot that dick was, I mean, not just how all of Wil's desire and hunger for Jacoby seemed to center in that iron-hard 8 inches but literally the heat coming off Wil's cock turned him on all by itself. He pulled back again, staring wildly into Wil's eyes, glancing down over the young jock's body, then back up. "Let's fuck," Jacoby Ellsbury growled. Three hours later, Wil slipped silently into a 10th-floor hotel room back by Fenway. The room was unlit but the lights of Boston filtered in just enough that he could see the shape of a bed and a motionless lump lying under the sheets on one side of it. Wil walked over to the window and stared out at the city for a few seconds before pulling off his hoodie again, then his jeans and shoes, and crawling under the sheets. Wil breathed out softly as he reached his hand out and stroked Evan Longoria's bare chest, savoring the gentle rise of the muscle, then slid his hand down over Evan's stomach. When he finally got to his teammate's dick, long and heavy even soft, Evan finally stirred. He opened his eyes, blinked, then smiled. "Oh hey, buddy," Longoria said, his voice cracked with sleep. "They finally let you go, huh?" Wil grinned but didn't say anything. "Or more like you let yourself go." Evan reached down and slipped a hand beneath Wil's trunks, grasping the rookie's hard cock before pressing further, between Myers' legs. His fingers came away slick with lubricant and Red Sox come. "Oh yeah, you definitely let yourself go..." "Fucker," the 22-year-old said. He was reaching back down toward Evan's cock, and quickly felt that Longoria was already on his way to full mast. "Oh? I was kinda hoping that'd be you." Evan kicked off the sheets and leaned back, spreading his muscular legs. Wil didn't hesitate and crawled on top of his buddy. "For once tonight," Longoria added with a smirk before Wil Myers drove deep inside. http://siextramustard.files.wordpress.com/2013/07/myers_glasses.jpg?w=600&h=402 (Myers) http://www.tampabay.com/resources/images/dti/rendered/2013/02/c4s_rays022613_10287944_8col.jpg (Myers) http://cdn.c.photoshelter.com/img-get/I0000xkGIX2pu2zY/s/850/850/Will-Middlebrooks-1659.jpg (Middlebrooks) http://coedbc.files.wordpress.com/2012/05/ann-lux-wag-3.jpg (Middlebrooks) http://www1.pictures.zimbio.com/gi/Jarrod+Saltalamacchia+Boston+Red+Sox+v+Tampa+10ta2WtRQwPl.jpg (Salty) http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/63/Jarrod_Saltalamacchia_on_May_21,_2012.jpg (Salty) http://www.csnne.com/sites/csnne/files/boston-red-sox-stephen-drew-david-ortiz-080113.jpg (Drew) http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/19/Stephen_Drew_on_June_16,_2013.jpg (Drew) http://b.vimeocdn.com/ts/321/258/321258781_640.jpg (Ellsbury) http://redsoxchick.files.wordpress.com/2011/11/17793467_sldfxs.jpeg (Ellsbury) http://a57.foxnews.com/global.fncstatic.com/static/managed/img/fn-latino/sports/660/371/Rays%20Longoria.jpg?ve=1 (Longoria)