Date: Wed, 25 Nov 2020 18:24:27 +0000 (UTC)
From: Author Guy <author.guy@yahoo.com>
Subject: Bend it For Beckham - Part One

This story is a work of fiction and it is not intended to imply anything
about sexuality, fidelity and/or private lives of the people mentioned.
The author has no knowledge about their private lives nor any connection
with them. The reader should not infer anything beyond a work of erotic
fiction.

The people depicted in this story are Greg James (a BBC presenter) and
David Beckham (who should need no introduction).

Bend it for Beckham ? Part One

Greg wrapped up his Radio One show for another day.  Being the presenter of
the flagship Breakfast Show had been his dream since he first encountered
radio.  He relished the music, the chat, the games and the opportunity to
share joy with millions of listeners.  Life was great and he wanted to say
something,

?Thank you to the team here at Radio One; thank you to the artists whose
work we have played and those who have taken the piss out of themselves for
amusement; thank you to the people who helped me get to my dream job and
thank you to you, the listeners.  Have a great day and may the music help
you smile throughout your day!?

As he faded his microphone, he caught the eye of his producer who was
astounded at the sentiment his usually irony-only presenter had released,

?Greg?  Mate? All cool??

?Yeah, just felt the need, you know.  Fuck Lockdown and Fuck the virus,
let?s say thank you.?

Chris nodded and smiled but he knew Greg.  Something was on his mind for
sure.


Greg nodded to himself.  Memories were on his mind, pre-Bella memories,
memories never to be shared with anyone else.  They came up from time to
time and he had the same warm feeling in his mind, his chest and, yes, his
arse every time.  He had to make sure he didn?t touch himself when he
remembered but, wow, that was hard and skinny jeans don?t hide anything.
Time to get home, get into a bath and reminisce.

It had been just after his ?Health and Safety Trainee? skit at the BBC
MUSIC AWARDSs.  The video had gone to YouTube and got a great reaction.  It
showed his humour, style and character.  Greg was really proud of the video
and the reaction; he?d put in quite a lot of work.  He loved his costume as
well.  It was simple but it looked like a trainee or intern, black polo
neck, skinny black jeans, black socks and mono black Vans Authentic.  Those
plimsolls had felt really easy and helped him get in character, he flexed
his long feet inside them and enjoyed them looking not quite so huge oh and
they had a rubbery, canvas smell that had made him smile in a way he wasn?t
used to.  Thank goodness the videographer hadn?t caught him changing
afterwards when he sniffed out the trainers and found himself just that bit
horny.

Greg was in his flat a few days later, preparing content for his Drivetime
show.  The ring of his iPhone jolted him back to day to day business.

?Greg!? his agent shouted - must teach him shouting isn?t needed - ?You
know your skit?  I have a request for a performance.?

?But they can watch the video.?

?No, it?s a party entertainment.  Quite an important party, influential
people, I?ve heard.  You get to stay on as a guest after.?  ?I don?t know,
Matt.  I?m a presenter, not a party entertainer.  What?s the detail?  I
mean, who is the host and is it private, press, charity??

?Checked all of that for you, Greg.  It?s Beckham, David Beckham.  Just a
party in his apartment.  No press.  No charity.  Just shits and giggles
with media and fashion types.  Dress code is really laid-back though.  He
wants t-shirts, jeans and trainers so no-one is dressed up and showing off.
He wants to invite you as a guest but is also willing to pay so it?s fair
if you do your skit.?

Beckham.  He?d get to meet David Beckham.  He was a huge admirer of the guy
and not just for the football.  Like so many straight men, Greg had the
short list of men where, well, you know... Beckham was top of the list.  Of
course there was no chance of it but meeting him socially would be great.
He agreed and started to work out how to add the bits of bandage and how to
show the accidents without the luxury of videos and the cutting room.

By the night, he?d worked out that he could dart into another room or
behind a door to play the noises of accidents using his iPhone.  Bandages,
he could wind-on and attach as he tried to deliver the lines.  He?d need
audience participation for a couple of bits of fixing bandages and holding
clipboards, hi-vis and hard hats.  This could be great fun.

He decided to arrive in costume and change after the performance.  He was
sure David Beckham would have a spare bathroom he could use.  Greg packed a
fitted, blue-grey Jack Wills t-shirt, his favourite skinny jeans, white
socks and his hightop white Converse sneakers into a holdall.  On top he
popped several rolls of bandages, some safety pins and a bottle - did
people ?bring a bottle? to a fancy party?

Upon arrival at the apartment complex overlooking the Thames at Chelsea, he
paid and tipped the taxi driver, picked up the hi-vis and hard hat and put
the clipboard atop his bag.  He reported to the concierge desk and giggled
to himself as he took the lift to the penthouse.

Beckham turned to his guests and said,

?Hey, fellas!  Entertainment is on its way up in the lift.  I tell you,
this guy?s skit really cracked me up when I saw it.?

The lift doors swished apart to reveal Greg James, clothed in all that
?intern black? wearing a hi-vis and bright yellow hard hat, clipboard under
his left arm.  He dropped his bag subtly to his left and looked at the
assembled company.

?Gentlemen,? he said, taking in the all-male room. ?I have had intelligence
that you are having a party and I need to check your paperwork, risk
assessments and advice to participants.?  He cast his eyes around and asked
for the host to show him everything.

Beckham threw back his head laughing and stamping his feet.  Waving his
beer bottle to the rest of the guys, ?See!  He just cracks me up!  Sorry
fella,? he said, turning to Greg. ?No paperwork, no risk assessments, no
advice.  Just beer, cocktails, music and a great time!?

?Oh dear.  We shall have to assess the risks here??. Greg knew he?d have to
ad-lib but he launched into the skit.  ?Shall we look into the walking
surface, which is the health and safety term for what you might call the
floor.?  He slipped off the plimsolls, inhaling that heady aroma as he did
but he was so focused on his performance that he hadn?t noticed Beckham?s
reaction nor yet the subtle adjustment to the host?s crotch.

Greg started to walk across the floor, pretending to demonstrate a safe
?heel and toe? walk.  Four steps in, he made sure he slipped, tripped and
crashed headlong on top of his host, bringing both to the floor.  Gales of
laughter erupted as the two men grappled each other to their feet.  Greg
turned and gave Beckham that cheeky grin where his lips are pursed together
and his eyes twinkle.  He nodded a question about whether it was alright
and got Beckham?s agreement.

?Hmmm, a very slippery floor.  I fear I may have hurt my left arm.  That?s
a trap waiting to happen.  I hope all of you have non-slip shoes on.  Would
some kind gentleman assist me getting my trainers back on and perhaps
attach a sling to protect my arm??

The other men didn?t have much chance as Beckham demanded host?s
privileges.  In his charcoal skinny jeans, fitted white t-shirt and white
Converse shoes, he bent down to retrieve Greg?s shoes and lifted the
performer?s foot.  He slipped on and tied the first plimsoll and reached
for the second, brushing Greg?s foot as he went and fitting it like he was
Prince Charming and Greg his Cinderella.  Their eyes met and flashed. The
evening was set from then on.

As Greg performed one part after another of his skit, the blokes laughed
and cheered, clinking bottles and moving around the apartment to see each
next scene.  Trainers squeaked on polished marble and the atmosphere just
got louder and louder.  Beckham let other guests attach bandages or hold
props so everyone got to join in. The whole group was having a great time.
Greg reached his crescendo, wound in bandages from top to toe, leaning on a
wooden crutch with his right arm, left arm in a sling and a tampon up his
left nostril.  He ached with laughter and the bumps from the act but was
having the time of his life.  Sliding down the lift doors as they opened,
he lay half in and half out saying,

?And that?s why you should always be fully erect before pushing the
button.?

The doors attempted to close, bounced back, repeated and he stood, took a
bow and revelled in the rich applause.  An old innuendo came to mind.

?Well a nice big hand on my exit is always welcome!?

Beckham stepped forward and said,

?Fellas, I?m just going to show Greg where he can change and give him a
hand out of these bandages.  Amuse yourselves.  We won?t be long.?

Beckham gestured along a passage, Greg picked up his bag and followed.
They ended up in a huge bedroom, vast windows overlooking the river and a
great bed in the middle.  There were various chairs, tables and artwork
placed tastefully around the room and a shaft of light spilled out from an
en-suite.  He dropped his bag and turned but David was surprisingly close
to him.

?Buddy, erm, am I mis-reading or??

Beckham started to unwind the bandage from Greg?s head, getting his face so
close that Greg could feel the short breaths coming from him brushing
across his left cheek.  Greg shivered involuntarily and turned leftwards.
He felt lips tease against his own and automatically eased his mouth open,
welcoming David?s tongue.  He jolted back but Beckham stepped closer and
loosened the sling.

?David, look, I?m sorry.  I just.  I don?t know.  I?ll go.  It?s wrong.?

?You don?t have to Mister.  Kissing a guy is really hot, it?s ok, I wanted
it.? And pre-empting the next question, ?Victoria knows.  It?s her idea.
Now let?s get these bandages off and clean you up.  Did you want to
change??

Greg nodded nervously and allowed himself to be unwrapped.  Beckham reached
and removed the tampon from Greg?s nose and used a make-up wipe to clean
the fake blood and smuts.  Greg gasped as Beckham put his hand to his arse
and caressed it appreciatively,

?It?s a shame to take you out of these jeans.  They show your sweet assets
perfectly.?  He knelt down and bit each cheek.

Beckham undid and slipped off Greg?s Vans Authentic plimsolls.  He took a
deep sniff from each and rubbed them one then the other against his and
then Greg?s stiffening bulges.

?I?ve got these too buddy.  Got white ones as well.  Always a great feel.
You ever tried??  Seeing the DJ shake his head in confusion, ?I wonder if
you?d like to hang out a little after the party.  I must get back to my
guests so come out when you?re dressed and ready.?

His Converse squeaked on the floor as Beckham turned and left the room.  He
also left his performer in some confusion as well.  Greg had become
increasingly sure of what David wanted and decided he?d let happen whatever
happened.  He dressed quickly and checked his reflection.  His arse looked
just as great in these jeans.  He took a deep breath, turned the knob and
re-joined the party.

It was a brilliant evening but it was clear no-one else suspected what had
happened in the bedroom nor had noticed anything particular in Beckham?s
behaviour.  They laughed about his jokes and pranks.  Greg heard that there
was always a performance of some sort at a Beckham party, usually a song
from Victoria but sometimes comedy.  Most of the performers would go home
afterwards but if David thought meeting these people could help the
performer?s careers, he was generous and invited them to stay and mingle.
Greg met some fascinating guys and talked about radio, presenting and his
passion ? Cricket!  Tickets to Lord?s arrived a few days later.

As the hours drew on, guys began to depart and Beckham turned to Greg,

?Do you mind waiting until the end?  I?ll sort out paying you and other
details then.?

The last stragglers took the unsubtle hint and made their farewells.

?Now, where were we?? David asked.  Greg felt his breathing quicken and his
cock begin to respond.  He hadn?t expected though that his bum would feel
warm and start pulsing.  That was a new sensation? It was quite obvious
that there would be something more than a cheque in payment. ?Are you sure
this is something you want to do?  I?m no pervert and I am not going to do
anything unless you?re up for it.  We could have some great fun if you
want.?

Taking a deep breath, Greg nodded, ?You?ve heard of Bend it Like Beckham?
I?m Bending FOR Beckham.  I reckon almost every man would say yes to a bit
of fun with you.?

Beckham guffawed, ?That?s what Victoria said! She knows men and would
rather I fuck a guy from time to time than ever sleep with any woman but
her.  She suggested it as a way to keep the press out of our business.
I?ve even got the agreement if you need to see it.?

?No,? the younger man replied. ?I?ve trusted you this far and well, I saw
how you were with my plimsolls.  I?m intrigued, I got a strange feeling
from the feel and aroma.?

Beckham led Greg back to the bedroom.  He pushed a button and the class
went opaque.  No-one was going to use a long lens, even if they could have
done this high up.  He picked up Greg?s black Vans from earlier and inhaled
the left, handing the right to Greg.  Beckham kept eye contact as he
gripped the tongue of the plimsoll in his teeth and un buttoned his jeans.
He shucked them down a little and shifted his boxer briefs down, exposing a
juicy, mushroom head at the end of a long and beautiful cock.  He took the
trainer from his mouth and slipped his cock inside it, starting to fuck the
plimsoll as he stared at Greg.

?Go on buddy.  You try too.?

Greg hadn?t expected this, well the whole evening had been a surprise but
he joined in.  His plimsoll was still warm from his breath and it felt
incredible as he slipped his dick inside.  The toe box tickled the exposed
head and the heel cup teased his balls.  It felt amazing, why had he never
tried this before?  Beckham stretched out his hand and slowly started to
fuck the plimsoll up and down Greg?s cock.

?Your sneakers aren?t virgins anymore!  But how about going further??

Greg nodded again and Beckham guided him towards the bed.  He slipped
Greg?s jeans further down and started to bend him forwards.  He made sure
the plimsoll stayed on Greg?s erect rod and pushed him until it was resting
on the bed.  He knelt between Greg?s long and hair dusted legs and pressed
his face towards that virgin manpussy.  He exhaled a warm breath and
watched the twitching lips before leaning forward and brusing his tongue
over the entrance.  Greg?s pussy tasted beautiful, fresh and welcoming.

Moans and sighs began to slip from Greg?s mouth along with obscene
suggestions about having his own cunt and what Beckham should do ? things
Greg hadn?t even dreamt of before ? things that Beckham had hoped his
talented tongue would tease out.  But then Beckham had another idea,
plimsolls were a huge fetish for him, guys in them even more so but no guy
had ever been this accommodating before.  He slipped off his own right
Converse low-top and broke off from licking Greg?s pussy.  He reached up
and lifted Greg?s head.  He placed the plimsoll on the bed so Greg?s nose
and mouth would be right in the entrance.

?One lick deserves another?? and he watched as Greg?s tongue darted out and
into the manly aroma of well-worn plimsolls.  David returned to eating out
Greg?s hole and teased it with a finger or two, enjoying the clamping of
the pussy ring around his digit or tongue.  He managed to get his right
hand between Greg?s legs and could wank him with the Vans still on his
cock.

David slipped two fingers of his left hand into the pink rosebud and
started to penetrate those juicy, wet depths inside his new friend.  He
circled the folds he found and fingered the inner lips.  He heard a huge
gasp and realised that nub he?d grazed was Greg?s sweet boy-spot.  He
couldn?t resist and started to tease it while he flicked his tongue at the
outer lips of this beautiful arse.  He was almost overwhelmed with passion.
He?d seen Greg on tv a few times, spotted the skit and heard him on the
radio.  He?d wanted to get him in bed for ages, fuck, Greg James was HOT.
Watching him grin, laugh and charm others earlier had made Beckham hotter
than he could imagine for the young presenter.  He knew that the pressure
on his prostate and the wank from the plimsoll would bring Greg to the
point of no return soon but Beckham wanted more.

He eased his fingers out and watched the pussy lips leak and twitch as they
missed the penetration.  He moved back and slipped Greg?s trainer from his
cock.  Similar size, a little bigger but it would feel great.  One quick
inhale of the glorious mix of canvas, rubber, Greg?s aroma and David?s
sweaty precum.  He had to have a lick and then he put his foot into its
warmth.

Greg turned on the bed, twisting his head towards Beckham, smiled and
flipped over, his hand on his trainer-clad cock.  He spread his legs and
said,

?Fuck me.?  The look on his face showed a mix of fear and excitement.
David couldn?t help noticing the eager eyes that he remembered from
watching Greg on ?Innuendo Bingo? and the deep dimples that creased both
cheeks.  ?Be gentle with me; I am a virgin down there.?

?Not for long, not for long.  I?m kinda long so I?ll give you plenty of
lube and I?ll take it slowly.  Party hat??

Greg?s brow creased and then he grinned,

?Well, I?m clean, you??

?As a whistle.?

?Then take me bare, breed me.?

?Dude, your arse is going to be a dripping pussy by the time we?re done.
His lips are twitching and moist already.?

Becks opened a drawer and took out the lube.  He squirted a generous amount
into his left hand and used his right index finger to massage it into
Greg?s arse lips.  Then he took more and made sure he coated inside his
fuck chute as far as his finger would go.  Finally, he wrapped his left
hand around his cock and made sure it was slippery.  He lifted Greg?s legs
higher and went to undo the laces on his Chuck Taylors.

?No, take me like a slut.  Plimsolls and jeans still on.?

Becks nodded at James? style and loosened the Converse laces,

?So I can slip my hands inside??

Then he clasped Greg?s ankles high, dragged the skinny jeans around his
ankles and exposed the long, shapely and hairy legs.  He took a moment to
caress his lover?s limbs and made sure he got a whiff inside the trainers
too.  With a wicked grin, he lowered the legs, loosened one Converse then
the other and took turns slipping in his lubed cock with Greg?s foot,
enjoying the soft moans.  He pulled back, took the ankles up and pushed
them towards Greg?s body, making a diamond shape and easing through.
Finally, he eased himself into position, Greg?s feet crossed behind Beck?s
head, arse pussy exposed and ready.  One more touch of lube to make sure he
didn?t tear this beautiful man below him and David Beckham pressed the head
of his long cock at the lips of Greg James? hole.

?Push back as if you?re taking a shit, then breathe slowly.  It?s going to
hurt a lot at first but then it will be amazing.  Keep looking into my
eyes, it helps the pain to concentrate on something else.?

Slowly, very slowly, bit-by-bit, Beckham pressed his cock into Greg.  He
listened carefully for every sound and breath.  He wanted Greg James to
remember this with joy.  He would press, pause, press, pause, push and
wait.  It seemed to take ages but he saw the pained expression pass from
his bum chum?s face and be replaced with pure horny desire.  He pressed
further and kept going this time.  He felt his pubes brush Greg?s taint and
the lips lock around his cock.  He?d bottomed-out in this virgin mancunt
and it was glorious.

?Fuck!  Fuck! That is ? wow ? fucking amazing.  I can hardly breathe but my
arse is so full.  Wow.?

?Buddy.  When you get fucked it stops being an arse.  It?s your mancunt,
your fuck chute, your boipussy, your mantwat or just your slutty,
legs-spread pussy.  Go on, what?s your?s called??

?It?s my pussy, please, fuck my pussy, my plimsoll-boy pussy.?  Greg threw
his head back in ecstasy as his revelled in his new-found sexuality and
discovering that he enjoyed being fucked by a real man, especially David
Beckham.

Beckham started to pull back until his mushroom head was almost out of
Greg?s hole, the lips stretched back and then he plunged all the way down,
impaling his lover.  In, out, in, out, long slow strokes inside Greg James.
This was incredible.  He was so tight as the folds of his trench caressed
Beckham?s cock backwards and forwards.  With every stroke, his long cock
grazed long and slow over Greg?s boy-button, causing the DJ to gasp, moan
and beg.

?Please, please?? came the ragged begging.  ?Fuck me hard.  I need fucking.
I need you to breed me.?

?One moment, more for you to experience.?  Beckham scrabbled until he found
the plimsoll that had been on Greg?s long and broad dick.  He slipped it
back over Greg?s cock and began to use it to wank him.  Then he showed his
co-ordination by fucking the plimsoll up and down Greg?s cock while he
ploughed a deep furrow into him.

Beckham started to pick up the pace.  This man was so hot, so horny, so
fucking sexy.  He couldn?t believe he?d found a guy that would also enjoy
plimsoll and trainer play ? no more searching for ?sneakersex? online and
seeing the same old videos.  The excitement gave him a burst of adrenaline.

?I?m gonna cum!? Greg shouted

?In your plimsoll or on your chest??

?Fuck, in my plimsoll, that?s really horny.?

Beckham kept up the assault on Greg?s newly-birthed pussy hole as he fucked
the Vans up and down Greg?s cock.  There was a deep, guttural gasp as
Greg?s hips bucked and he coated the inside of his trainer.  He shot
several times and his arse ring clamped hard on Beckham?s invading cock.

Beckham fucked furiously into Greg, both men coated in sweat and gasping
for breath.  With a roar, he rammed all the way home and came hard into
Greg, breeding his pretty arse-pussy, coating his bowels with the man seed
he so obviously craved.

As they came-down from their orgasms, the men grinned at each other,
nodding and then kissing.  Becks grasped the sneaker on Greg?s softening
cock and brought it to his own face.  He tipped it so that Greg?s spunk
drooled down and then he licked it out.  He swirled the plimsoll cum around
his mouth, winked and then snogged it into Greg?s mouth.  The two men
snowballed, caressing each other, grasping arms, legs, bum cheeks, anything
they could grab.

Becks felt his cock softening and told Greg,

?I?m going to slip out?

The sudden emptiness Greg felt as his hole was deprived of Beckham?s dick
was aching then he felt a trickling at the lips to his, what was it, his
arse or pussy??  He couldn?t resist and he bent forward as Becks moved back
and caressed his puffy lips; Beckham?s cum was dribbling from Greg?s hole.
He pushed a couple of fingers in and scooped.  He brought his fingers back
to his face and licked them, offering them to Beckham who slurped on the
cummy fingers eagerly.

?So?,? Greg grinned. ?So what happens now?  Fuck buddies?  I know there?s
NO way you can go without my pussy again.  And, well there?s one of my
plimsolls on your foot and I reckon it doesn?t want to be a virgin much
longer.?

Beckham mulled it over for a moment.  There was the danger of being
discovered or of Greg catching feelings for him but there was also the
knowledge that here was a sure fire fuck, one who might get into his
trainer fetish too and someone whom he decided could be discreet.

?Buddy,? he murmured. ?How do you feel about an encore?  When are you free
again??

Greg James heaved a huge sigh of relief.  He was going to be David
Beckham?s fuck buddy.  He knew he didn?t fancy guys and didn?t seem to have
the emotional connection for boyfriends like Grimmy and Scott Mills did but
he knew he had a horn for getting fucked by David Beckham.  He could find
out about himself and what he liked; no-one else needed to know and he?d
enjoy it.

It wasn?t long before they met again and then Greg started to get pictures
of himself wearing Converse, Vans or other trainers and post them online.
He was always looking for that one particular follower to like his post.
The picture he sent from a publisher?s office in New York, dark jeans,
t-shirt and those fucked, cummed and loved Vans Authentic plimsolls was a
moment of pride.  He knew what his pussy would be getting when he got back
to London.

END of PART ONE


It?s my first attempt at writing erotic fiction.  I know the people
involved are Brits but then so am I!  I?d be interested in constructive
criticism.  I have plans for Greg to recommend his fr