Date: Mon, 21 Aug 2006 13:00:52 +0100
From: Carl Anderson <carlando@googlemail.com>
Subject: Soccer Player Sex

This is fiction. There is no suggestion whatever that either character is
gay or has ever taken part in any of the activities described.


Alan and Freddie



'You're fucking killing me you bastard!'

Alan Smith's being fucked harder than he's ever been fucked in his
life. He's on his back, his legs slung over the shoulders of a man, his
hands gripping the man's waist as his hole is plunged and used. He likes it
this way. He always likes sex to be aggressive, passionate, full-on,
sweaty, filthy, ruthless. He's never been fucked by this guy before but
he's wanted it so often as he's looked at photos of the man's body and
worked off load after load. He's imagined the man's muscular body using all
it's power to plug his chute.

'You're fucking killing me!'

That's not a plea for mercy it's a plea for more. Smith's face tells the
man that. The wide-open eyes and full drool-covered lips force the
message. The message is 'More! Harder! Fuck the daylights out of my
arsehole!'

The man doesn't argue. He's got Smith's body in his control and his tight
tunnel squeezing, almost throttling his cock, making every inch of its
length feel engulfed in red hot begging flesh. He likes the way his fuckee
yells at him and takes every sound to be a demand. He pulls his cock almost
all the way free and then slides it back with such determination that Smith
grunts like a beast as heavy bollocks slam against his hot arse cheeks.

'You fucking like that, yeah?' The voice is sadistic with its Swedish
accent. 'You like having that English asshole fucked shitless!' He plunges
in again. 'You got a whore asshole.' Blue eyes burn into Smith's
face. 'Tell me how much you want cock, fucking tell me!' He spits on
Smith's mouth.

'Go on Freddie! Fuck me! Fuck the shit out of my whoreass. Hard as you
fucking want! Kill me with your fucking cock!' He grunts as the nine inches
of Swede cock lunges onto his prostate. He feels every vein within him,
every drop of precum that lubes his tunnel and mixes with his own juices.

It had been so sudden that night. A chance meeting in the hotel lift,
invitation for a bedroom drink, Ljungberg stripping off his shirt because
he knew Smith's reputation as a slut, wanting to work on the man's nipples,
enjoying the return of his chest hair. Smith hadn't disappointed. He was a
slut as others had told Ljungberg. Hands and tongue had been everywhere
leaving no inch of the Swede's body untouched. Nipples had been teased,
sucked and chewed, armpits eaten as if their were rarest delicacies,
asshole rimmed deep and wet and cock treated to every trick his tongue knew
before sliding deep into his throat leaving Swede pubic hair pushing into
his nostrils.

All the time he wanted one thing. He wanted the Arsenal player fucking his
arse. He wanted to make the Calvin Klein body sweat and power into him,
needed the big drooling cockhead buried deep inside him and raping his
body. Ljungberg had eaten him out, spitting gob into the hole then fingered
him deep and roughly making the ring beg to be forced wider and
wider. Swedish muscle had pushed Smith into a fuck position, opening his
legs and ass cheeks so the nine-inch unlubed and unsheathed cock could
press in and take possession. He'd felt the begging blond English ass open
and then grab him like a carnivore, sucking him into the dark red-hot mass
of greedy ass flesh.

Now he is fucking furiously, feeling the sensations of cock in chute and
the man beneath him begs for more. His sweat drips onto Smith. Hot and
salt-laden sweat that mingles with the English body juice below. He feels
rivers flowing from his armpits as he lifts his arms and grips the bed head
to give him more power to thrust. Smith senses this and looks into dark and
wet, hairy armpits as a drop of sweat hits his face.

'Getting close. Getting close you fucker. Want my sperm in that shithole?
Uh? Want my fucking sperm in that hot cunt? Tell me how you fucking want
it. Make me cum.'

'Come on, shoot your fucking jizz in my cunt!' The words are interrupted by
his seething short sharp breathes. 'Wanna feel that cock cum in my
hole. Wanna feel hot sperm in my hot cunthole.'

It's words like that that trigger Ljungberg. Suddenly his eyes are shut
tight and his face screwed with determination. Smith sucks him in deeper,
muscling round his cock shaft. He explodes. He forces deeper than ever as
Swedish bollock pump strings of thick white manjuice out of his slit into
Smith's guts.

'Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!' Smith screams as hot jizz scalds
him deep within and he closes his fist around his cock. He's been on the
fucking edge for an age but now it's time to release his cum on his
sweating muscled body. There's a fucking eruption in his balls and a rope
of Smithcum forces his slit wide and shoots across his furred pec and
titanium hard nipple. More! More! Rope after rope of stickiness shoots in
arcs over his body, splashing his lips, into his mouth as the Swede fires
bollocks full of cum into him.

And after? After the bodies slide apart? As the sweat flows and breathing
slowly gains normality? Freddie gathers Smith's spent fluids and their
mouths share the salted honey before oozing Swede cock returns to a
ravenous English mouth to be sucked dry and clean of sperm and juice.



This is the first of a series of short stories involving footballers. I
love to hear your feedback so why not let me know what you think and any
suggestions that you might have?


I'm at carlando@googlemail.com