Date: Sat, 10 Dec 2016 13:01:45 +0000
From: Lidon Dyte <lidon.dyte@gmail.com>
Subject: David Beckham in Miami Part 13

DISCLAIMER - This is a work of pure fiction and fantasy. David Beckham
would probably not do what I have them do as described below. He is not
gay.

Feedback to lidon.dyte@gmail.com

Here is Part 13

*****

FLASHBACK I - BECKS AT HOME
===========================

This tale takes place a little earlier than the events in Part 12, when the
hunky married millionare was still physically unruined.  On the outside at
least; his slutty hole was of course well-stretched from countless
fingerings and fuckings, although the sheer tautness of those beautifully
honed muscular arse cheeks ensured that it remained a great source of
stimulation and pleasure for both countless lucky queers as well as its
shamed and degraded owner.

Beckham was back home in London, England, to spend some time with him
family having been so occupied with his frequent "business dealings" in
Miami. Playing games and watching TV with his kids, having dinner and going
out with his wife and friends, all proved a welcome respite from the
non-stop, hot, sweaty man-sex. But it was not long before the primal urges
returned; his hungry, slutty ass twitching for a solid fucking. He was able
to get some relief locked in the bathroom with a large dildo he'd managed
to hide in a compartment - but just as before his encounter with Carlo, it
did could not hit the spot. And he was beginning to realise why: although
his studly ass was physically well-filled with the obscene sex toy, the
extra element was missing. The humiliation, the degrading, the knowledge
that some nobody queer gayboy was exploiting and abusing his exquisite
tanned lythe body and chunky bubble butt.

One afternoon, Becks figured he'd try to take his mind off things by
playing some Xbox. It was permanently in his eldest kid's bedroom - the
teen would sit in there for hours on end with his mates playing whatever
was the latest RPG or soccer game. As he approached the door, the soccer
stud could hear noises within. Clearly his son was already enjoying a game.

"Brook?" he called out, tapping the door and opening it. A waft of stale
teen boy sweat hit his nose instantly and Becks sighed as he saw who was
sitting on the leather beanbag playing at the console.

It wasn't his son, of course. All of his family were as clean-cut and
freshly turned out as he was. It was lucky they each had their own
bathroom, the amount of time each member of the household would spend
preening and moisturising themsevlves. No - the pungent aroma was down to
one of Brooklyn's "nerdy Xbox mates", as Beckham called them. Whilst his
son would play soccer and go out with other fit, active teens (of whom
Beckham certainly approved as good influences), when it came to Xbox and
gaming it was a different crowd. Pasty, overweight, indoors types who had
no interest in watching soccer never mind actually playing it, unless it
was on the console of course. They just sat around, fixed to the screen and
chowing down on junk food. And the one sitting in the room now was the
worst of the lot: Boyd Pupuss.

"Oh, er, hey Mr B.," said the fat, clammy teen, wiping chip crumbs from his
podgy pale face. "Um, Brook just had to go take a call. He said it was cool
if I ..."

Beckham waved a hand. "Yeah, fine," he said. Brooklyn's latest girlfriend
was almost as much of a nightmare as his Xbox mates. Always calling and
texting, the lad was glued to his iPhone chatting with her whever he didn't
have an Xbox controler in his hand!

But Boyd was definitely worse, in Beckham's opinion.  Weighing over 250lbs
and a good few inches shorter than Beckham's manly 6", the porky nerd was a
spotty, pasty mess. At nineteen years old, he was the eldest of the Xbox
lot, at least two years older than most of the others, including Brooklyn
himself. The loser had no job - unless you count playing Xbox, which he
seemed to do full time. He was always eating some disgusting combination of
chips, chocolate, pizza, any kind of take out, and sluring down gallons of
sugary soda. No wonder he was a fat wobbly mess. What had always irked
Beckham on top of that was that the pimply virgin was so obviously gay. He
would clam up and look uncomfortable when the other lads talked about
girls. Of course, they just assumed that he felt bad about his looks and
couldn't get a woman. But Becks had noticed how the kid would just fucking
STARE at him, when he thought he wasn't looking, glassy-eyed and breathing
heavily through his mouth whenever the insanely handsome and well-formed
soccer stud was in the room.

"Th ... thanks, Mr. B," he stammered.  Of course he was always nervous
around the tanned soccer god. "I mean, uh, Mr. Beckham. Sir. I'm sure he'll
be back soon, he only went to the other room cos it sounded kinda
personal."

Beckham rolled his eyes. Brook would be absorbed in the call for ages, and
fatty was hogging the Xbox. He was about to leave (to try to get some kind
of a nut from his dildo) when a thought struck him which stunned him cold.

"Is ... everything OK, Mr Beckham?" Boyd blinked - having expected the
studly DILF to turn and leave but noticing that he seemed frozen and in
deep thought. Boyd's greedy eyes had wasted no time checking out the fine
form of the real man in front of him, stood there in a crisp white tshirt
that accentuated the hunk's athletic physique and designed jeans which
clung tightly to every fleshy inch of those bulging thighs and immense
behind.

"Yeah...," said Becks as he closed the door softly and nodded towards the
52" screen on which Boyd's Xbox game (some shoot em up) was paused. "Hey,
you seem to be doing pretty well there. High score?"

Boyd couldn't beleive it. The might David Beckham had never made small talk
with him, let alone shown any interest in Xbox. He always assumed
(correctly) that the highly-successful, hunky married millionaire looked
down on the awkward teen with disdain.

"Um .. oh, no. It's not that, erm, kind of game," he stuttered. "You need
to complete the missions against the clock .. it's like a timed thing..."

Beckham stepped closer to him, feigning interest.  "Oh right. Like a time
trial?"

"Yeah... kinda.."

The married hunk sat himself down on the floor next to Boyd and flashed him
a genial smile, the sharp stunning eyes of the hetero alpha meeting the gay
teen's nervous gaze directly. "Mind if I try?"

Boyd was almost in a trance. He had never been this close to such a perfect
man. Just inches apart, Boyd could see the breathtaking beauty of the hunk
in fine detail. The golden tanned skin of that perfect, chisled face; the
hint of the lithe, honed chest with that famous, intricate inkwork teasing
at the neckline of the tshirt; the smell of aftershave and, very faitly
beneath it, pure alpha male sweat.

"Oh.. shit, yeah. Sure. Of course." Boyd was babbling now, but of course
Beckham didn't care. He had made his mind up. The ugly, greasy, overweight
teen had the one thing that the fucked-up humiliation slut craved.

The thought had sickened him at first, of course. The idea of that fat,
sweaty virgin pawing at his perfect tanned flesh with those grimy hands; of
having the privilege of sharing a deep, passionate kiss with a godlike hunk
light years out of his league; of that nasty smelly cock taking the stud's
divine ass and shooting its first load (other than masturbation) into the
guts of the hunky millionaire. And the idea that the handsome stud would
need to use his charms to seduce the loser ... to initiate the encounter,
rather than having the queer horny and ready to use him on demand added a
further dimension of humilation and degradation. In that moment, the
realisation had hit Becks that it was the obvious solution - and the slight
twitch of his fleshy cock had confirmed it.

"Thanks," Becks said softly, making sure that his big manly fingers touched
Boyd's fat softer hands for slightly too long as he took the controler.

For the next few minutes, Becks made out to play the game - one he'd played
before of course, but making sure that he kept asking Boyd for hints, so as
to keep them both talking. As the conversation got warmer, Boyd relaxed a
little.

Beckham being on the solid wooden floor and Boyd being on the comfy leather
beanbag gave the soccer star the perfect excuse to inch gradually
closer. Pretending to need to stretch or change his posture, Beckham would
adjust himself so that he was eventually resting on the side of the
beanbag, his arm nearest to Boyd occasionally even brushing against
him. Soon they were almost completely touching side-to-side and, now aware
of the pure body heat of the magnificent hunk so obviously in his personal
space, Boyd had again fallen almost silent.

Beckham suddenly paused the game and faced Boyd.

"Look," he said, speaking softly but firmly. "I know what you want. And I
need a favour, OK?"

"Whuh ... what? I.."

"I mean it," Becks went on. "Listen carefully - I'm only going to say this
once. This is going to sound crazy but I'm serious. I'm going to put this
controler down, and then I want you to use me. Do anything you want - I
mean anything. If you don't start within five seconds, I walk away and you
never get this chance again. If you do start, then you can do what you
want, on one condition. This ends with you fucking my arse. Got that?"

Beckham slowly placed the controler on the floor and turned to face the
stunned teenager. A couple of beats past. Shit, thought Becks - he frozen
on me. Stupid virgin.

"Come on," he warned. "Time's running ou....."

Boyd was on him before he could finish. Of course the kiss came first. The
sight of that godlike, chisled face, so agonisingly handsome just inches
away was too much for the horny teen. Beckham almost gagged - the kid's
mouth was rancid and stale. Boyd was in heaven, feeling the sensation of
those famous sculpted features against his podgy face, his tongue exploring
the hot, sweet-tasting mouth of the perfect hetero male. As the humiliating
and degrading reality of the situation kicked in, Beckham's treacherous
body began to respond; his thick cock rising, his manly voice croaking and
moaning into the kiss, his hungry ass twitching in readiness.

The half hour that followed was the most incredible of Boyd's life. As the
horny teen moved on from the kiss to hungrily licking and biting at that
toned, tanned body, greedily sucking at the hetero god's leaking fuckpole
before moving around to that insanely pert bubble butt ass, the power
dynamic began to shift. Beckham had started off in charge, commanding the
room with his powerful alpha presence as the pasty loser kid looked on in
awe. But as the shamed hunk's surrender grew, so did Boyd's confidence. The
beautiful submissiveness of the degraded stud came through powerfully - and
as the dignity of the hetero facade gave way to Beckham's true cockslut
nature, the previously nervous teen grew in confidence.

"Oh yeah Mr B," he breathed heavily, as the fucked up stud took the teen's
squat, smell cock into his perfect mouth. "Yeah, fucking suck it. Fuckin'
fag.. yeah.."

By the time that Boyd was in the heavenly position of riding that divine
chunky butt, the roles had completely reversed. Becks cried out in shameful
joy as the flabby teen pounded his arse.

"Hey... what's going on in there?"

Both fucker and slut froze at the voice behind the door. Beck's eyes
widened - holy shit, was his son really going to walk in on him as his ass
was been reamed by his fat loser buddy? The hunk breathed a sigh of relief
as head that poked around the door was not a family member but Cole -
another of the Xbox crew. A skinny lad of eighteen, Cole was a typical
gamer geek, pale and wearing thick spectacles, his gaunt face frozen in an
expression of surprise as he witnessed the scene before him.

"What the ....?"

"Oh hey Cole," said Boyd casually, the conquest of the older stud having
taken his confidence to a whole new plane. "What's up. I was just gettin a
piece of Mr B's ass right here. It's fuckin A."

Cole just stared, completely lost. He began babbling.

"I um... Brook just let me in ... he had to go out and deal with... um...."

"For fuck's sake dude," Boyd said with mock impatience. "If he's gone then
come in, shut the door, and get some of this. Every had your junk blown by
a freakin millionaire soccer star?"

Cole shook his head dumbly. He'd never gotten a blow job in his life. Only
once awkwardly kissed a girl, after a couple of beers at a party. Despite
his head being unsure, his dick started to fill out at the situation. He
was aware of course that Becks had a fantastic, lithe body - he had seen it
in the countless TV and poster commercials. But actually seeing it in the
flesh, the beautifully inked tan skin glistening with sweat, the handsome
face looking up at him with vulnerability ... ad clear sexual hunger. After
a few moments, his mind was made up. Closing the door behind him, he pulled
off his baggy tshirt and unzipped his fly.

Soon enough the shamed soccer stud was taking his son's nerdy friends at
both ends of his godlike body. With Brooklyn out of the house (no doubt for
ages, to sort out whatever the issue was with his girlfriend) the two lucky
teens took their sweet time.  Boyd, now fully in charge of the situation,
suggested that they move into the master bedroom, laughing as Beckham
dutifully complied. And so the great David Beckham spent the afternoon
getting royally fucked on his own marital bed, his mouth and arse receiving
copious loads of teenspunk. The event cultimated with Boyd and Cole
high-fiving each other from opposite ends of the degraded sex pig, as it
accepted one final load from each.

After a while, the three of them were lying in the comfty Emperor-sized
bed, Beckham in the middle. Cole was entertaining himself lazily playing
with the stud's haevy cock and balls, as Boyd lovingly stroked that tight,
lithe torso, occasionally treating himself to a deep, wet french kiss at
that perfect chisled face.

"Whew," Boyd eventually said. "I'm beat. That was fucking amazing."

"Oh yeah," Cole grinned. "I don't know where the fuck that came from, Mr B,
but shit ... we have got to do this again. Way better than Xbox!"

"True my friend," Boyd said. "Of course, it would be awful selfish of us to
keep this to ourselves. We'll have a few more fuck sessions just us, but we
should bring the rest of the crew in. What do you think, Mr B? You up for a
gang bang?"

At the suggestion of being used as a long-term fuck toy for his son's geeky
friends, Beckham's treacherous cock sprang to life and began leaking. The
teens laughed in unison.

"Well I think that's a yes!" chucked Cole.

Boyd could only moan in reply - he mouth was locked onto Beckham's again,
his fat greedy tongue probing and licking. The shamed married stud moaned
back - and moaned harder as he felt Cole's spindly fingers entering his
well-fucked ass. The skinny teen whispered in his ear: "Just got a text
from Brook. He's staying out for the night. Guess where we're staying?"


TO BE CONTINUED ...