Date: Tue, 5 Nov 2013 13:29:11 -0500 From: ACD x Subject: MLB playoffs (part 9) MLB playoffs 2013 (part 9) 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. Note: I know this is a little late, and I'm also branching out beyond MLB here, but hope you enjoy anyway. (Photo aids at the end.) NLCS - Cardinals vs. Dodgers - Los Angeles, CA Matt Kemp was on thin ice. Or on a shaky ankle, to be more precise. The 29-year-old Dodgers center fielder, who for the last five years had patrolled the outfield grass in LA, had been forced to give up his place on the team when the docs told him his ankle was about to pop, and ever since then he'd been watching from the dugout, on strict orders to walk only on crutches and not to engage in any...strenuous activities until after his surgery. He'd made it about three days. On the morning of the fourth, Kemp woke on his back in his LA penthouse with a hard-on that made it look like a mountain had risen between his legs from the soft white sheets of his bed. Matt's dick ached with need; when he ran his fingers over it, he couldn't help groaning. Jesus, I'm hard, he thought. I'm not gonna last a week like this. He stood and walked gingerly over to the bathroom, glancing in the mirror. Matt wasn't an especially vain man, least no more than any other man of his celebrity stature. But the sight of his own handsome face, gleaming eyes, bare, well-muscled physique, and most of all the glorious curve of Matt Kemp's full, aching-hard 9.5-inch cock, made the pro ballplayer even more aroused. He needed to fuck...and soon. He'd tried to accommodate his trainers and doctors at first, and just had a nice, quiet romp with a lesser Hollywood starlet that he met at a party after the Dodgers took the NLDS against the Braves, then a pretty young thing he found in the hotel bar in St. Louis. At least Matt knew he wouldn't need to perform on the field anytime soon and could focus his attention fully on giving his usual excellent performance in bed. But like so many other times, his flings with the lovely ladies who flocked to his side left him unsatisfied. The girls were fun, and he got his rocks off, but Matt knew it wouldn't be long till he wanted -- needed -- something more. Which was how Matt Kemp had found himself at Chris Paul's sprawling pad outside LA, drinking the NBA star's finest liquor, watching games and getting drunk with Chris and two of his teammates from the newly revitalized Clippers. At 28, the 6'0, 175-pound Chris Paul was practically a veteran, and the way he handled the ball commanded respect from his adversaries. His tandem partner on the inside, Blake Griffin, was younger at 24 and a lot bigger at 6'10, 250, but Chris and Blake were like brothers and relished their leading role in bringing life back to the franchise. Their last compadre was new to the Clips this year, and J.J. Redick and Chris Paul had had to put past feuds behind them when the 29-year-old sharpshooter arrived in LA. But as soon as the guys found out that J.J. and Chris had picked up a few of the same habits since leaving college, Redick and Paul became closer than they ever would have expected. Even now, as the four guys sat sipping beers and bourbons, watching SportsCenter and shooting the shit, Chris Paul's hand had drifted across the leather couch that he and J.J. shared and was slowly stroking the long, full length of J.J. Redick's cock as J.J.'s 8 inches swelled handsomely into his tight jeans. J.J. wasn't yet reacting other than to let his cock swell thick and full into Chris's grip, licking and biting his lower lip as his teammate's fingers passed over the sensitive tip. Chris Paul's dick also rose rock-hard into his red Clippers shorts, his own impressive 8-inch shaft tenting them beautifully, but he ignored it, one hand focused on J.J, the other just stroking his own bare abs as Chris sat in relaxed, shirtless comfort. Both Blake Griffin, who was slouched into the same couch with his massive legs bent so his knees rose above his stomach, and Matt Kemp, who was reclined deep in an easy chair, hadn't failed to notice the attention Chris was giving to J.J.'s piece. Neither of them had much reason to say anything just yet, but fuck if Kemp was gonna wait much longer to satisfy the need he'd been feeling for damn near a week now, and Blake felt himself start to swell under his sweats and his heart beat a little faster under his designer hoodie as he heard J.J. Redick let out a soft groan. In fact, Kemp was already setting his tumbler down on the table next to him and, while still staring forward at the TV, sliding his hand down the front of his loose Dodgers shorts. He felt his thick, full length pulsing hard in his grip and a broad grin broke over his handsome face. He just knew when Chris texted him back right away that this was gonna be exactly the kind of night he needed. "Mmhhh..." The muscular Clips shooting guard was moaning louder now. Kemp glanced over to see that Redick's jeans were suddenly unbuttoned and unzipped and Chris Paul's thick, full lips were sinking deep on his fat shaft. J.J.'s hands were on his own pecs, veins bulging from his biceps where they swelled out from the sleeves of his t-shirt. In his years in the NBA, Redick had bulked up and leaned out and now cut a fierce fucking figure on the court. "Fuck, I still can't believe this boy sucks cock this good," J.J. breathed. He looked down, watching his big 8-incher sliding in and out of Chris Paul's lips, Paul's boyishly handsome face strained with his hunger for his teammate's dick. "I still can't believe he sucks cock at all," Blake Griffin muttered. Kemp looked over at him. "You kiddin'? How long you guys been fuckin' around?" Blake groped his thickening cock as J.J. tugged off his tight shirt, exposing his ripped upper body to the other guys. "Since he fuckin' got here," the big forward laughed. "He's a real convincing dude." Blake licked his lips, his eyes trailing over J.J.'s chest and stomach. "I mean, look at me...sure as fuck turned me out. Damn, Jay, you're lookin' real good tonight." Redick looked over at Griffin and gave him a cocky grin. "Yeah? Well, when your boy's had his fill, maybe you can take a turn." Matt Kemp bit his lip as he watched these guys. Wish there were guys on my team I could do this with, he thought. Now, he knew the stats and knew there had to be at least a couple other guys on the Dodgers who were into suckin' dick. But Matt wasn't exactly up front about his own preferences, and with the ladies' man persona he projected to the media and to all the guys in the clubhouse, it'd be impossible to tell that Matt was buying what they were selling. Not that he hadn't had his fair share of MLB tail. He'd had a wild romp in San Francisco with Hunter Pence, fucking that stud's perfect ass like it was made to be fucked. The D'backs' young slugger Paul Goldschmidt had taken an unexpected liking to Matt's thick Dodger dick and ended up deep-throating Kemp in his Phoenix hotel room. He'd even got Troy Tulowitzki on his back -- all it took was a few whiskeys and a shot of tequila and the Rockies shortstop was legs spread on the bed and ready for a sweet ride. But he'd never gotten a man to tug off his Dodger blues for him...though there were plenty he'd like to try. A large presence blocking out the light around him brought Matt back to the here and now. He looked up. "Hey bro." Blake Griffin had pulled off his shirt and the stud baller's almost unbelievably ripped midsection was right in Kemp's face. Matt swallowed hard, then let his eyes drop. Well, that unbelievably ripped midsection...and Blake Griffin's rock-hard cock, curving 11 thick, throbbing inches out into Blake's sweatpants. Matt's hand froze, still gripping his own rigid shaft tight. He was only vaguely aware of the noises coming from a few feet away, where J.J. Redick was now up off the couch and was steadily fucking Chris Paul into the thick plush carpet of Chris's own man-cave, the point guard's dick dripping freely onto his bare stomach. But Matt Kemp's attention was drawn elsewhere... "You come here to party a little, or you just gonna jerk off all night?" Blake's dick twitched under his sweats and Matt almost came all over his fucking hand. Kemp's own cock made a beautiful tent in his blue shorts. "Which way you wanna do this?" Blake's lips curled into a smile. "However you wanna do it, bro. I can go either way." Matt's heart beat a little faster; had Blake Griffin just confessed out loud that he was versatile? Fuck. "Paul opened you up to that too?" Griffin chuckled, his laugh deep in his throat. The 6'10, 250-pound forward looked down at his teammate, almost a foot smaller and 75 pounds lighter, currently wriggling on the floor as his tight jock ass got deep-dicked. "Naw," he said, shaking his head as he turned back to Kemp. "It was another pretty face just like yours." Blake knelt down -- it turned Matt on to realize that even then he didn't seem any smaller. "On another LA team...only this one goes out on the court in gold and purple, always ready to cut down the nets, and the big buck who took me first was the one son of a bitch cocky enough to ask." Matt realized instantly who his buddy meant, and he felt his dick jerk hard as he imagined Kobe Bryant fucking Blake Griffin deep, the Laker star's wiry, ripped body taut as he buried himself in Blake's untouched ass. "Yeah," Blake confirmed with a grin. "You got some big fuckin' shoes to fill if you wanna go that way...so. What's it gonna be?" Matt's dick throbbed; he'd needed this for too long, and in any case he only swung one way. It wasn't till five minutes later that a sharp groan cut through J.J. Redick's unflinching focus on fucking a load out of Chris Paul, and the handsome guard let his eyes flick to his left. "Jesus..." J.J.'s eyes widened as he took in the sight of Blake Griffin -- his huge frame now totally bare -- bent over, his hands tightly gripping the arms of the leather chair where Matt Kemp had been sitting. Blake's mouth was wide open and his eyes were clenched in an expression of all-consuming pleasure. His entire upper body was taut, his perfect abs crunched, his triceps popping into the smooth, pale skin. Blake's neatly trimmed curly hair had bushed out a little bit as the room heated up, and drops of sweat now trickled between Blake's pecs and down to the small of his back. His cock alone made J.J. Redick's mouth water; Griffin's 11 inches were thick and swollen hard, a single fat vein snaking all the way up its length to the broad mushroom head, which was leaking Blake's pre-come like a faucet. Blake Griffin moaned again. "Unghh. Fuck me, Matt..." That made Chris Paul turn and look too. "Aw shit!" the little point guard groaned. From below, he actually had a perfect view of Matt Kemp's cock driving steadily, needfully into Blake Griffin's tight, round ass. Kemp was naked too, his tattooed, muscular body revealed to all three Clippers for the first time. And that handsome body was equally strained as Kemp fucked Blake Griffin hard, the outfielder's own firm butt squeezing tight as he slammed himself home over and over. The two guards came at the same time, Chris Paul's dick jerking and pumping cream all over his stomach as his fingers curled into the rug, J.J. Redick's hard prick shoving his load up his shaft and soaking Paul's insides with NBA jizz. The sight of this major-league jock, this man of Hollywood who'd coupled with Rihanna and loved the cameras as much as any other LA personality, now fucking their teammate and top-stud Blake Griffin was too much for either dude to handle, and they both gave themselves up right away. Which just turned Matt on even more. He fucked Blake harder, his hands holding Blake's thick but obscenely cut midsection steady. Blake looked ready to come too but he held himself on the edge, his face twisted in pleasure, as Matt Kemp increased the pace. Blake gritted his teeth, a low growl rumbling in his throat. He was gonna fuckin' explode any second, but the big LA Dodger wasn't letting up. It was just a matter of a few more deep thrusts... Across the neon-lit city, Matt Holliday was also a few deep drives short of getting his load fucked out of him. Ever since he and Freese had let down their defenses and given themselves over to both giving and taking hard MLB dick, Matt had been out in search of one new stud after another to show Matt what he could do with his hard prick. It was how Matt had found himself ass-up in a St. Louis hotel room with Chris Carpenter, the veteran pitcher deep-fucking his longtime teammate and muttering over and over how Carp had wanted that ass for so long. It was how Matt had gotten a load fucked out of him by the team's other Carpenter, after the lithe, dark-eyed second baseman felt Holliday hold a celebratory hug a little too long, long enough to feel Holliday's dick twitch against his leg, then gave his teammate a look that said everything and within an hour after the game Matt Carpenter was pounding Holliday's tight ass in their LA hotel. It was even how Holliday had turned to his former bottom buddy, Shane Robinson, practically demanding that the poor star-struck rookie fuck him, and when Shane still hesitated, wondering where this streak had come from in the guy he'd assumed was just fucking Shane to get his rocks off, Matt just shoved the outfielder onto the bed and lowered himself onto Shane's rock-hard 9.5 incher, powering his 6'4, 250-pound body up and down on Shane's cock, fucking Shane just as much as Shane was fucking him. And it was how tonight, with the Cards on the brink of eliminating LA and taking a trip to the World Series, Matt Holliday nevertheless had ended up in Clayton Kershaw's apartment, looking up at the Dodgers' young ace as Kershaw fucked Holliday in the same bed where he fucked his wife. But she was out of town, and Kershaw was horny, and when Holliday had approached him after the game, not offering to get drinks, not trying any playful banter, but just straight up offered his ass to the kid, Kershaw had been so fucking shocked that he just let Matt drive them over to his place. He hadn't recovered much from that initial shock, and his face was a mixture of raw sexual hunger and genuine amazement that he had Matt Holliday on his bed with his meaty ass in the air, taking Clayton Kershaw's thick 8 inches to the hilt. "Fuck me, Clay," Holliday groaned. It was honestly the best fuck he'd gotten since he gave his ass up, and he wasn't regretting a moment of it. He might not have expected it, but Clayton Kershaw really knew how to fuck a guy. By all accounts, he'd never done it before -- he'd said as much right before he drove himself deep in Holliday's ass, and Matt had no reason to doubt it. But Kershaw knew just how to alternate long strokes and short, a quick, rough pace and a gentle, steady rhythm, and with a little guiding from Matt's hands, he quickly got used to wrapping his fingers around Matt's own hard prick and slowly, agonizingly brushing his grip over Matt's thick length and leaking head. When Holliday's stomach clenched, Kershaw's hand was drawn upwards and he ran his fingers over the tight definition. When Holliday grabbed the slats of the headboard with both hands and his biceps swelled with muscle, Kershaw reached up and grabbed one of them, squeezing the massive ball of muscle hard. And when Holliday's balls tightened and he groaned and came in hot, thick ropes all over his stomach and chest, and his tight-clenching ass drove Kershaw over the edge too, the star pitcher's hard prick firing maybe the biggest load he'd ever shot deep in Holliday's hot, tight hole, the big ace couldn't stop himself from leaning forward, his cock driving even deeper, and kissing Matt Holliday hard, moaning into the kiss as Clayton Kershaw emptied his balls in the St. Louis slugger's ass. A few seconds later, as the climax of his orgasm faded, Kershaw's eyes shot open, his lips still pressed hard against Holliday's. The pitcher jerked and pulled back, his still-hard dick sliding from Matt's hole with an intensity that made the Cardinal stud groan loudly. "Oh, fuck, I'm -- I'm sorry, dude!" Kershaw's eyes were wild as he stared down at Holliday, his hands up as if he'd just been caught robbing a bank. "I just got caught up, and -- fuck, I'm sor--" Kershaw was cut off as Holliday sprang forward and kissed him again, the Cardinal stud's fingers in the Dodger ace's thick blond hair as he returned the kiss Kershaw had so unwittingly given. And instantly Kershaw's horror at what he'd done was swallowed up by the pleasure at the feeling of Matt Holliday's lips again on his, Holliday's hands running all over his body. This was so fucked up, but Matt's hands were feeling really good as they sank down over Clayton's hard ass and gently squeezed. Clayton Kershaw just closed his eyes and kissed the Redbirds slugger deeper. Back in the hills, Kershaw's teammate was also kissing another jock deep. Matt Kemp grunted as J.J. Redick leaned in and kissed him hard. Redick's lips were soft and felt amazing on his, but when Matt opened his mouth and let J.J.'s tongue slip out to wrestle with his, he felt a warmth in his chest and started fucking Blake Griffin even harder. He'd spun the big forward around on his cock and laid him on the floor face-up, Blake's incredible body laid out for Matt and the other guys to admire. Griffin's swollen 11 inches were unbearably hard, and his cock poured clear honey onto his abs until Chris Paul knelt at his teammate's side and licked all the way from base to tip of Blake Griffin's massive dick, Chris's tongue sliding over the sensitive underside, tasting drops of pre-come straight from the slit, but teasing just enough to keep his buddy agonizingly close. Meanwhile Kemp and Redick were still making out hot and hard, and J.J.'s hands slipped down over Matt Kemp's body, one finding the Dodger's swollen nuts and flicking his fingers over them, making Kemp moan louder, the other reaching down to slip between the meaty bulges of Matt Kemp's ass, finding his tight hole. He sucked in a breath, pulling back and staring at Redick. Fuck, the dude was really good looking, wasn't he? "I don't get fucked," Kemp breathed, trying to sound as stern as possible. It came out as desperate instead. J.J. just smiled. "That's what I said too." Cocky mother fucker, Kemp thought as Redick kissed him again. They found out who was right soon enough. As the kiss deepened again, Kemp found his own hand trailing over Redick's damn near perfect body, grasping at J.J.'s abs and tight hips. But when he reached J.J.'s waist, his fingers suddenly drifted forward instead of back, and before he realized it he was sliding his grip up and down J.J. Redick's thick, iron-hard 8-incher. Below him, Blake Griffin's body was a writhing mass of ripped muscle; Blake groaned Chris Paul's name as his teammate's fingers ghosted over the almost-purple crown of his cock while licking at the nipple capping one of his thick pecs. But these guys had worked together for too long already, and Kemp barely noticed as J.J.'s lips were replaced by Chris's, the point guard rising from the ground to take Redick's place at Kemp's side. And Chris Paul was such a goddamn good kisser that Matt Kemp hardly registered Chris's finger on his tight entrance too, slicking it with a generous amount of lube. And he didn't even wonder where J.J. had gone till a moment after that, when he felt Redick's hard cock sliding between the muscular cheeks of his MLB jock ass. "Na--mrff!" Kemp's objection was silenced as Chris Paul grabbed his head and pressed their lips together...for a guy who was a hell of a lot smaller than Matt, he sure was fucking strong. As was Redick, whose hands clamped onto Matt Kemp's hips, holding him in place as his cockhead massaged the slugger's untouched hole. Even Blake Griffin was doing his part, his perfect ass drawing Kemp deeper, making him ignore what was happening behind him -- or worse, getting him so fucking heated up that he almost wanted it. Though soon there wouldn't be any question about what Matt Kemp wanted. J.J. Redick's eyes fluttered closed and his mouth dropped open in sublime pleasure as he felt his steel-hard dick slip past Matt's tight ring and sink a few inches deep in the Dodger stud's cherry hole. Matt growled his protest into Chris Paul's lips, but already he was feeling something new, an incredible fullness, completeness, that he'd never felt before. "You really don't get fucked, do you?" J.J. whispered breathlessly into Matt's ear. "You're fuckin' tight..." Matt's lips broke free for a moment. "What do you fuckin' expect...unghhh!!" The big outfielder was reduced to groans again as Redick's cock sank deeper, driving slowly but surely inside him, opening him up. Meanwhile Matt was still calmly fucking Blake Griffin, and he didn't realize it at first but his thrusts forward into Blake's ass also meant Matt was gently rocking his own newly minted jock cunt back onto J.J.'s dick. At the same time, J.J. was expertly increasing the pace at a slow, steady clip, all the while letting his cock sink deeper and deeper into this MLB stud's tight-clenched hole. Finally Chris had waited long enough. The cute Clipper guard leaned back down over Blake, his fingertip brushing over his teammate's rock-hard nipple. Blake moaned, his eyes meeting Chris's. He saw the devious grin on his buddy's face, and breathed out slowly. "Aw, fuck..." With that Chris Paul's thick cocksucking lips slid over Blake Griffin's massively hard shaft, already on the brink of eruption, and started sucking dick as hard as he could. Blake's moans doubled in volume and he lifted his shoulders from the ground, his abs squeezing beautifully together and his ass seizing like a vice around Matt's cock. The baseballer's mouth instantly dropped open too as this NBA superstar's hole grabbed his dick and didn't let go. Just as Chris had hoped, it was enough to distract Matt from the still uncomfortable thrusts of J.J.'s cock deep inside him. Matt's ass relaxed, and J.J.'s dickhead brushed his nut. "Awnnhh FUCK..." Matt's eyes clenched, then shot open again as J.J. Redick's pistoning cock nailed his prostate, then did it again, and again. Kemp's entire body was on fire. He fucked Blake harder than he'd ever fucked anybody before. He watched and felt as Blake reached his own peak, his huge body swelling as he came deep into Chris Paul's throat, his buddy doing the best he could but ultimately Blake's jizz spilling down over his chin even as the big Clipper kept fucking his shaft into Chris's throat. Chris himself had come all over Blake's abs long ago and his cock was already hard again. Fuck, this was hot. Matt almost felt himself thinking-- "Fuck me, J.J." "Huh?" Redick said, wearing that same cocky smile, leaning in as he kept fucking Matt Kemp deeper, harder, faster. "What'd you say, bro?" "I...unghh...I said fuck me, dude." J.J. drove deeper. "Ungh, fuck me..." And harder. "Auhgh...FUCK me!" Matt groaned as his stomach and chest seized, his arms grabbing Blake by his jerking hips as Matt came, soaking Blake's insides. The muscle-packed forward was growling expletives as he felt Matt Kemp's come splatter deep inside him, then Chris Paul's hot cream spray across his chest as his teammate reached a second climax. It wasn't more than a few seconds later that J.J. Redick finally came too, his body tightening and his dick throbbing as he emptied his nuts into the big LA Dodger's well-loosened hole. Matt had never felt anything like it -- it was like the handsome Clipper was breeding him, claiming him by leaving his seed inside, confirming Matt Kemp's conversion from a MLB top-stud to a dick-hungry jock just like so many other major-leaguers who once vowed they'd never take a dick. But he didn't realize how far he'd fallen, and so fast, until about ten minutes later, as Matt turned his head lazily to look across the floor and see J.J. Redick lying a few feet away, his eyes shut and his lips parted in pleasure as he felt Chris Paul's cock bottom out in Redick's own ultra-tight hole. Just like Blake Griffin had buried his incredible dick all the way inside Matt Kemp's newly turned-out jock cunt. Fuck, it felt amazing, that fat length of steel-hard NBA dick so far inside him, filling him up. He could already tell he wasn't gonna be able to look at any of these guys again -- any of his teammates -- fuck, any hot guy he passed on the streets of LA, without wondering what the dude was packing between his legs and how sweet it'd feel to get that hard cock inside him. Fuck me, Kemp thought, and smiled. http://cdn.bleacherreport.net/images_root/slides/photos/002/400/627/matt-kemp-getty-long_original_display_image.png?1341949748 (Kemp) http://www.thechicksters.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/matt-kemp-gq-magazine-04.jpg (Kemp) http://images.onset.freedom.com/ocregister/article/mv3fes-b781201016z.120131022161318000gm01gje1u.2.jpg (Redick) http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y83/xBrokenDreams19/JJ7-1.jpg (Redick) http://media.nola.com/hornets_impact/photo/chris-pauljpg-e4bdbd8c07e83779.jpg (Griffin & Paul) http://esg6rzdhdg9i115s.zippykid.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/chris-paul.jpeg (Paul) http://malecelebbio.com/gallery/2012/02/Blake-Griffin-17.jpg (Griffin) http://cdn1-www.craveonline.com/assets/uploads/2013/05/clayton-kershaw-dodgers-may14.jpg (Kershaw) http://www.hdwallpapersinn.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Clayton-Kershaw.jpg (Kershaw) http://www.stevebonini.com/data/photos/804_1sl.jpg (Holliday)