Date: Sat, 4 Mar 2017 07:14:10 +0000 From: Christopher Hudson Subject: WHEN SATURDAY CUMS 19 Will Brandt had quite expected to leave Gareth Hicks for good that evening, to say goodbye and never return, but that was not how things turned out. The footballer -- who these days (with his easy bucks, flash car and celebrated status) had perhaps grown used to getting his own way -- persuaded his lover to stay, despite the fact that he himself had no idea how they were going to solve their present dilemma. All the same, he gave the *appearance* of knowing and to Will (who at this point appeared more vulnerable than he had ever done in his life) that was all that mattered for now. Reality would soon dawn, of course, but just at this moment it seemed that the self-deception of fame was enough to last through the night to come (and possibly a day or two more beyond). After that -- well, as Gareth himself had pointed out, something (or someone) would answer their prayers. And for now that appeared to be enough to calm Will's fears, as he buried his head into Gareth's safe, muscular chest. Two whole days passed. Two whole days of prevarication, when the footballer seemed almost content to pretend that nothing was wrong. The matter before them was hardly discussed -- although Will did catch the man scouring the papers for any evidence of a forthcoming revelation. Instead, they passed their time away in much the same manner as usual -- swimming, eating, making love, watching telly. Everything, it appeared, except facing the one singular, most important problem that they had ever encountered as a couple -- and that, for Will, was soon an intolerable state of affairs. On the Tuesday night the Dutch lad finally broke his part in the silence, with a revelation of his own that sent shivers down Gareth's spine. He was returning to Holland, he had decided. He was finally doing what he should probably have done a couple of years ago, when his relationship with Drew had first set into terminal decline, but it was still a decision, that, under the circumstances, he made with almost stomach-wrenching reluctance. He loved Gareth dearly -- he loved him more than he had ever loved anyone, indeed more than he would probably *ever* love anyone! But he now felt that he could no longer cope with the enormous pressure that continuing the relationship entailed, and although leaving England was very much a cop-out (as the footballer was only too keen to highlight), he saw no other alternative laid before him. Running away was his only option -- and to a weak and insecure individual such as Will Brandt, it gained an attraction with every passing hour. They did not fuck that night. Instead, they fell to sleep in Gareth's bed with their backs to each other -- always a bad sign, of course. Nevertheless, when the soccer-ace awoke early the following morning, he felt he could no longer hold back the intense emotions that Will conjured up in his psyche. After all, he had longed all his life to meet someone like Will, someone who gave a meaning to his life of material success, and although he was angry with the boy's decision to leave, he still understood the reason behind it. Indeed, if the roles were reversed -- if *he* was the lonely stranger in a foreign land and Will was the famous footballer whom everyone worshipped and for whom life was just so fucking blessed -- would he not do exactly the same? Would *he* not want to return to his bolt-hole? -- a question that, if anything, made him almost jealous of the youngster, who had the opportunity to escape the claustrophobic environment that fame and fortune brought with them. The younger lad was sound asleep as Gareth turned to face him, with a slight smile on his cute, young face that disguised the anguish that was presently awash in his mind. Indeed, such was his look of contentment that the footballer instinctively refrained from waking him -- choosing instead to gently pull away the duvet slightly so that he might feast on the sight of Will's gorgeous body (which he just knew he was going to miss like fuck if the Dutchman proved true to his promise of returning to Holland). Indeed, it came as little surprise to the athlete that he himself should quickly begin to support possibly one of the stiffest hard-ons in his life by just observing the lad in such illusive innocence, and with an almost instinctive response, he found his hand trailing down his own handsome body in search of the raging hardness that now encompassed his crotch. As he did so, however, Will appeared to stir, tossing himself over so as he now half-faced Gareth -- who held his breath (unsure, as he was, as to whether the lad would wake or not). As it happened, however, the fine-featured fellow remained unconscious -- a heavy breath on his part appearing to signal a return to his heavily comatose state -- leaving the star to an even finer view of the Dutchman's form, which itself was half-aroused. Indeed, Gareth could not help but wonder what sordid dreams were flitting before his lover at that point -- what depraved pleasures of the flesh were dancing around in his brain, filling his juicy cock with blood and churning his tight, hairy balls in the process. Gareth could not resist reaching out to touch his boyfriend's young, smooth, tempting skin -- gently brushing his fingers over the guy's chest and then down across his midriff. Will, however, slept on, and continued to do so even as his lover's hand pushed back up his body, flicking his dark, erect nipples in the process. Nothing, it seemed, could wake him, content as he was in his dreams, so it was perhaps no wonder that Gareth's sharp eyes should fall upon the lad's most precious organ, as he queried to himself whether physical contact with his cock might yet be possible. He edged himself down the bed a little, so that Will's shaft was in direct reach, but he did not touch the half-swollen member straight off. Instead, he began to play with the lad's curly mat of pubic hair, which nature had provided him in a rather neat patch -- gently twisting the strands around his fingers and savouring their rough touch around his hand. Such playfulness seemed only to encourage Will's cock, which began to swell even more than before -- but it did not wake him. Rather he slept on, perhaps imagining that Gareth's fondling was but part of a tender fantasy, from which he had no desire to escape. The footballer had always found Will's vulnerability incredibly sexy -- perhaps because he spent his entire professional life mixing with people who generally had no such lack of confidence -- and it had never been more apparent than at this present moment. He drooled involuntarily -- and not just from his mouth! After all, his knob-head was almost bursting from excitement, as the blood rushed into his dick at such a gross volume that it almost hurt, but a certain degree of relief appeared to be wagered by the gentle stream of pre-cum that was now slobbering from his piss-hole, oozing down onto the bed-sheet beneath him. No doubt about it, that cleaning lady of his was gonna have her work cut out again if he had *his* way! Gareth could no longer resist the urge to touch Will's hardness, which was undeniably redder than it had been and the head of which was finally prying from the top of its protective skin. So he finally dared himself to grace his fingers along its generous length, glancing up at Will's face to see whether the initial touch did anything to stir the boy. For the moment, however, there appeared to be little indication of consciousness, and with that recognition in mind, the footballer pushed himself towards him, so that his face was now barely inches from that gorgeous crotch that meant so much to him. He sniffed the pouch, in an almost animalistic manner -- taking a deep breath of the distinctive manly scent. Fucking hell, he'd had hundreds of men in his time, but the guy was sure that he would recognise Will's musky smell anywhere, and it was with almost a tear in his eye that he now recognised the fact that he was going to miss his lover like crazy (assuming the lad was true to his word and left). Nevertheless, Will *hadn't* left yet -- and Gareth was indeed determined to make the most of that. As such, he edged himself even closer to the fellow's manhood -- so close, in fact, that Gareth thought he could almost hear the beat of the young man's heart in his throbbing cock (a notion so erotic to him that he simply couldn't resist touching any longer). The soccer-star reached forward and held the horn of so much pleasure, glancing up at the young man as he did so -- knowing, as he did, that such contact would disturb him. Indeed, it was little surprise that Will's dark eyes should now open, as he perhaps realised that his sweet dreams were in fact reality. Not that Gareth was going to allow him any mileage at this point. He was determined to be as sensual as possible, and raising himself above the lad, he shushed his protests. `Close your eyes,' he whispered, brushing his eyelids as he did so, `and enjoy ...' For all his determination to leave, Will was still compliant to his lover's request and willingly relaxed to such wanton attention. And who the fuck could blame him? After all, he was about to be sucked off by one of the sexiest stars in the footballing firmament -- the sort of prospect that surely only a gelding would fail to find grossly encouraging! Gareth held that formidable rod in his hand now, gazing up once again to ensure that the fellow still had his eyes closed, then leant forward with an open mouth to slowly encompass the pulsing head. It was a somewhat ginger move on his part, but it was not evidence of any reticence on his part. Rather it was the result of his desire to savour the moment, as he pulled the skin back in his mouth and fed on that swollen crest -- a move that sent a shiver of considerable pleasure across the youngster's handsome body, causing his to groan and part his legs in apparent encouragement. `You like that ...?' the older lad murmured, seeing his friend's response. `That good ...?' `Very ...' gasped Will. It had not been Gareth's intention to encourage him to reply, however and once again he shushed him down -- this time by sitting up and kissing him squarely on the lips. `You're supposed to be sleeping ...' he reminded him softly, but the rich, salty taste from the footballer's mouth had appeared to inspire the young man and his waggled his tongue expectantly towards him (his eyes still tightly closed). Taking hold of the opportunity, Gareth bent down and began to suck on the end of Will's tongue -- in a manner not at all dissimilar from the way in which he sucked his cock just moments before. It was a move that pleasured the Dutchman immensely -- or at least it appeared to be judging from the smile on his face and the ever-bounding strain in his groin -- and the footballer continued to feed off the muscle for a few moments more. Eventually, however, the desire to regain control of the lad's cock grew too much for the fellow and he returned his lustful attention to the erect phallus, which by now was oozing with excitement. With an open mouth and eager throat, he lapped at the offering -- a gargle in his voice appearing only to underline the deep roll of comfort that the organ was presently providing to his man-hungry libido. The Dutch salami slid deeper and deeper inside, so that its crusty crest was finally almost bracing its lover's tonsils, whilst the soccer-star's one hand cupped those fuzzy balls and rubbed the hairy wrinkles with blatant affection. Truth was, the fellow loved the contents of Will's copious cum-sac and the method he appeared to have now adopted seemed only to confirm this point. After all, he knew only too well that such vigorous sucking could result in but one thing, and when Gareth's probing fingers moved their attention away from his lover's balls and down towards his prostrate, the sticky point of no return was brought that much nearer. A brave eruption was about to be aroused -- and Gareth, for one, was not about to complain! The sweat was visibly rising on Will's smooth chest and he was desperate to open his eyes and watch as the footballer slurped on the contents of his nads -- but he clearly knew better than to disobey Gareth's instructions. So instead he gasped and spluttered, as the first wad of cum began to form at the base of his cock. `Oh God,' he sighed, imagining the scene that was taking place below, `that is so good, Gareth. Fuck, that is so, so good ...' As if to prove his point, he punctured the air with his spunk -- except, as he quickly realised, it wasn't so much the open air that he hit as the back of his boyfriend's throat! Not that he had much care to note at that particular juncture, mind. All he could think about was the pressure in his cock and balls, which was just aching for the sort of release that perhaps only something like a good blow-job could provide. Fortunately for him, Gareth was more than willing to supply such first-aid to his member, gulping the man-honey down as quickly as Will could produce it. Even so, some spillage was almost inevitable and the goo ultimately began to trickle from his tight lips -- slithering down the Dutch lad's shaft and matting itself into the fuzz below. Not that the athlete cared. Sucking Will off had left him feeling incredibly horny, and having noted that the guy's cock was finally spent, he slipped down to his lover's pubic fuzz so as to lap away at the heavy drops of man-juice there deposited. The youngster, meantime, waited in fervent anticipation of Gareth's next move -- his eyes still immersed in darkness, but his mouth now drooling for the contact that he felt sure would now come. For having realised that Gareth had taken his seed orally, he sensed that the footballer would want to embark on a deep, fleshy kiss -- and he was not to be disappointed. Not that the celebrity would allow Will to look even then -- a command that only added to the thrill of the moment, as the younger guy tasted his own spunk on his lips and slopped the manly nectar over his teeth and gums. Nor would Gareth consent to any end to their playfulness as they lay together afterwards, their bodies entwined in young love's embrace. For it was as if breaking their amusement would signal the end of their relationship -- an occurrence that neither man desired, but which each realised was now perhaps an inevitability. As such, Will in particular was overcome by a heady mix of happiness and confusion, as his mind flitted between the two extremes of joy and despair. For lying together with his man, his taste buds sodden with cum and his entire body tired and drained, he realised then (more than at any previous point) that he was now sharing a bed with a man not too dissimilar to Drew Michaels -- a man who (through no fault of his own) had brought him much the same share of bliss and grief. As such, it was precious little wonder that he had reached the conclusion that leaving England was his sanest option, and burying his head into the crook of his lover's arm, he sighed in the bitter recognition that this was one tragic situation where the love of one man for another was never going to prove to be enough. Will had no idea how long he had slept when he awoke the second time -- but one thing quickly occurred to him before anything else and that was that Gareth was no longer in bed with him. Instead, there was a note on his lover's pillow, weighed down by the ring-box that that the footballer had presented to him several days before (and which Will himself, under the circumstances, had reluctantly been compelled to return). With an uncertain heart, the lad reached out to read what the man had written, but he was little the wiser even then. `Don't go anywhere before I come back, love G,' was a significantly vague explanation -- and perhaps lacked the sort of clarification that was needed to ensure its purpose. Indeed, it was the ring (if anything) that held him back from going -- that symbol of Gareth's true affection, that, in the privacy of the moment, Will could not resist from slipping onto his finger for size. It was, ironically enough, a perfect fit, but that hardly detracted from his problems. For when all was said and done, it was but a roll of metal (albeit a rather expensive one) and to Will it could barely overcome the troubles of the moment. It would take more than a bit of jewellery to erase the shadow of Drew Michaels from their lives, after all -- no matter how hard they wished! Lord knows how much longer he laid there, drifting in and out of his daydreams, wondering to himself where he had perhaps gone wrong with Gareth and why the universe was quite so cruel, but the next thing he was fully aware of was the sound of people talking in the room below. Opening his eyes and listening even harder, he realised that there were two voices -- one of which was clearly Gareth's. The other, however, remained very much a mystery -- and would remain that way until (horror of horrors) Will realised that the two men were now ascending the stairs and were about to enter the bedroom. The lad's instinct was to try and dart into the en-suite bathroom, but by the time he had realised what was happening it was already too late. So instead he had little choice but to cover himself up with the duvet and hope for the best -- wondering, as he did, who it was who Gareth had brought to the house and indeed whether he himself would recognise the person. To Will's immediate bewilderment, however, only Gareth stepped into the room. But before he could make any manner of query, the footballer had already begun his explanation. `Will,' he sighed, jumping onto the bed and grabbing hold of the boy's hands, `I want you to know that I love you!' The Dutchman was now even more confused. `I know that ...' he finally stuttered. `No! I mean that I *love* you -- body and soul and all that stuff! And I'm prepared to do anything to keep you ...' Will thought that that last statement sounded particularly ominous and he could not help but glance towards the door. `Who is here, Gareth?' he quizzed finally. `Who have you brought?' The footballer took a deep breath. `He's the only person I know can help us now, Will ...' `Who is it, Gareth?' Will demanded again. `It's Todd Rankin.' `Todd Rankin? The team captain? But ...?' Gareth explained how he had told the skipper all about Will when they had first met -- about how Todd had demanded an end to the relationship, to which the striker had ultimately seceded. `... But I couldn't live without you, Will,' he continued, `so I found out where you lived through a contact at the club. That was when I came to see you -- but I didn't tell Rankin any of this. In fact, up until about half an hour ago he didn't even know we were still together!' `So, how can he help us exactly ...?' `He had contacts. He can deal with Drew --' A sudden moment of panic crossed the youngster's mind. `Gareth, I don't want Drew hurt!' he insisted. `I might hate his guts for what he's threatening to do, but --' Gareth shushed him down. `It's alright -- he won't kill him or anything ...' `You promise?' `You have my word -- Drew won't be killed!' Will paused. `So, why is Todd Rankin here?' he asked finally -- suspicion written across his sweet, young face. Gareth drew breath. `Us professional footballers have rules. And one of them, as you know, is that we're not allowed to have relations with any man outside the game. It's too dangerous, as you know ... `Hence our problem!' Will added knowingly. `So ...' his lover drooled. The Dutchman laughed. `He wants to fuck me, does he not?' he remarked. `What makes you think that?' `It is his price. You cannot offer him money -- he does not need it. But you can offer him what he otherwise would not have: a young, handsome guy from beyond your little world of football, who would normally not be able to obtain ...' Gareth kissed him. `I love you so much, Will -- I would do anything to keep you ...' `So I can see,' the lad smiled. `Fortunately, I feel the same way about you -- so yes, he can fuck me. `But on one condition!' he then immediately added. The soccer-star looked perplexed. `What's that?' he questioned. `As I said, that he doesn't hurt Drew. Fix him, yes -- but not hurt him. I mean, I did love him once ...' Gareth gave his word as the man who loved him more than any other would *ever* love him, then called for Todd to enter the room, removing the note and ring-box that were still lying on the bed. After all, he needed to clear the decks for the buffing to come -- even if he (for once) was not to be directly involved. Todd Rankin was everything that Will had perhaps imagined -- and possibly even more. Short, bottle-blond hair, dark brown eyes, a slight mat of hair on his chest, an air of arrogance to match his eight inches of uncut manhood and a passion for sex that might almost have left the youngster wanting more were it not for the fact that he was so much in love with Gareth beforehand. One thing did surprise him about the fellow, however -- one thing he perhaps wouldn't have ever anticipated from seeing him as that hard-hitting footballer on the pitch. And that was his pair of neatly shaved balls! Not that that particular revelation distracted Will for long as he began to slurp on that well-equipped member, riding the whole length of it with his hungry mouth. No, his attention was focused too much on satisfying both City's skipper and of course City's star striker (who had seated himself on a chair at the bottom of the bed to enjoy the show). And satisfaction was what the young man was determined to give more than anything, as he forced more and more of that hard cock into his mouth, so that it was soon pounding the back of his throat in much the same manner as Gareth's had been only a few hours before! All the same, the young man could not help but find a strange curiosity in those smooth orbs between Todd's legs -- an interest that led to his paying them some considerable attention after he had moved on from that fine, unyielding axle, sucking them into his mouth and playing with them one by one. Novelty, of course, was the major factor, but the fact that he was performing right in front of Gareth's nose appeared an additional incentive. Nor was he totally unaware that his lover had now pulled his jeans down and was now jerking that savoury cock of his -- a sight that served only to encourage Will in his antics all the more and which left him feeling decidedly hot and horny for the fucking that was clearly on the cards. As if to add to the eroticism of the moment, Will positioned himself facing down the bed as Todd lubed his shit-hole with grease and slipped a rubber over his aching dick -- the lad's butt sticking high into the air, as he knelt face-to-face from Gareth so that he might whisper his affection to his boyfriend as the City skipper shafted him from the rear. As such, the two were still very much in contact even as Todd was burying his shaft into Will's young guts and slapping those hairless balls against his dear, pert rump. What was more, their love for each other was only compounded when Gareth finally stepped forward and aimed his gun directly in Will's face -- primed as it was and ready for firing. A deluge of man-juice rumbled from his nads in a heavy deluge -- just at the very moment that Rankin withdrew his own prick in readiness for his own ripe salvo (which landed, very happily, on the Dutchman's silky, sweaty back). Consequently, the young man felt that he was being showered in spunk from all directions possible -- and for fuck's sake, who can argue about that? It was left only for him to leave his own mark on the scene at this point, and rolling from his front he wanked his dribbling cock for all that it was worth. It was a process that did not take long to gain the desired results. Moments on and his love-tubes were once again displaying their enthusiasm for his favourite sport -- whilst Gareth and Todd urged him on like demented fans. Will, for one, could not help but note the irony in their apparent reversal of roles, but he savoured it all the same. After all, how many other ordinary mortals could ever claim to have had two Premiership footballers at the same time? Less still, how many could claim to have had two said players before lunchtime? The Dutch lad's side of Gareth's bargain complete, it was now only left to Todd Rankin to meet his promise. But how? And when? And would it be enough to ultimately keep Will Brandt this side of the Channel? As so often in life, only time would eventually tell.