Knockout Cushing/Ryans fic
Title: Knockout
Author: Darkeyedresolve aka Tommy H
Pairing: Brian Cushing/DeMeco Ryans
Rating: NC-17
Summary: DeMeco wakes up after his night at the bar, and finds a man he can’t quite remember in his bed.
Note: Inspired by du_secondaire and Nicki Minaj
Knockout
DeMeco wasn’t sure what time it was, his head was throbbing too much to care. The Texan’s linebacker only woke up because he felt something stirring beside him, something much bigger than his dog. The bed gave a groan as a heavy weight shifted, and it was enough to get Ryans’ attention. But with the pain in his head and the weariness of a long night in his bones, Ryans just gave a blurry glance over. He could see a big shape moving away from his bed but instead of going after it, DeMeco just rolled back into bed. He could still feel the bass pumping in his ears, God, he was just lucky this wasn’t a game day Sunday. The bright, glowing images swirled in his head as he fell back to sleep, not to dream, but to remember.
Last Night…
DeMeco Ryans stepped out of the cab, in sharp GQ style: crisp, red dress shirt, perfectly tailored black pants, slick looking dress shoes, and a bold, gold watch. It was money, he had it, and when he was going out tonight, he didn’t mind to show it. DeMeco had come along way of his home town down in Alabama. The successful Texan’s linebacker looked around the entrance of the building, an exclusive, member’s only bar in down town Houston. It was as none descript as it comes, no bright sign over the red door, or a red carpet rolled out; just a woman standing there. She was pretty though, in that Texas’ kind of way, with big blonde hair and great big blue eyes.
Most people didn’t even know it existed. You had to apply, with your income and career as the deciding factors, and even then you had to be somebody. Ryans liked the privacy the club offered to its clients. Even as he walked to the door; he didn’t get bothered by fans or paparazzi. It was just the elite of Houston, and well, the rest of the world.
“Good Evening sir,” The blonde girl in a tailored suit stood by the door; chic, black glasses framed her blue eyes, “Can I see your card?”
DeMeco flipped out his wallet and flashed his silver and black card, and she took it with her delicate fingers. She gave him a flirty smile as she swiped it, the door then unlocked after a second.
“Have a good night, Mr. Ryans, I think you will appreciate the new performer.” The door woman handed the card back, though she let her fingers stroke along his hand. Even though given what she knew, it was pointless to throw her womanly charms at him.
“Really, well thanks for the heads up baby.” DeMeco took off his sunglasses and gave her a smile as he moved into the posh bar.
Even though it was exclusive, the place was packed with people. You were never alone when you had money; people were crawled after cash like druggies after a fix. He always came alone; he needed to be left alone after work and this was not the setting for his southern made relations to visit. Ryans really wanted to enjoy his bye week, and by enjoy, he wanted to get wasted and fuck; just like the old days. DeMeco had learned that closeted southern boys would come out when the liquor was strong; so he had quite a tolerance in his more mature days.
So he first stopped by the bar, greeted by the smiling bar tender, to get a shot. The rum went straight to his head, and let out a good natured hoot before getting a second one. The warm sensation that ran down his throat was soon spreading out along his limbs, yea this is exactly what he wanted.
“Hitting it hard huh?” The twenty-something, modelesque man said as he finished pouring the top shelf liquor.
“Last hurrah,” Ryans smirked as he toyed with the empty glass, “Going hard on the field, going hard tonight.”
“Whatever you need, I got.” The bar tender smirked his perfect white teeth, his jaw line defined by perfectly manicured stubble. He was definitely trying, and DeMeco didn’t blame him, the guy could find the right man and be set for life.
Just he wasn’t Ryan’s type, too boney, too fake.
DeMeco noticed the beat of the music had shifted and the lights from the stage began to flash, it was time for a show. He got a drink this time, rum and coke, as he turned his attention to the glowing center. Ryans tapped his foot along to the song, bringing the glass to his lips as they all waited. The wait was short as he walked out to the stage, and the Texan’s player knew exactly who the girl had been talking about. A male stripper, one with a faux hawk, wearing a very slutty version of a football uniform swaggered out to the pole. Demeco had to smirk a little more boldly as he saw whose uniform he was wearing, thought it was cut under his chest, his last name was clearly along the shoulders. Those little white shorts didn’t hide much, bulging in front, and stretched over a set of seriously, plump cheeks.
“You like the added touch?” A male voice called over his shoulder, filtering its way through the heavy bass.
“Trying to butter me up, Mr. Lane?” The linebacker glanced over his shoulder as an older man, 50s, stepped up next to him at the bar. They exchanged a handshake; this was the club’s somewhat eccentric owner.
“Well you see, it all happened by coincidence,” He moved expressive hands as he explained himself, “I was at the airport in New York City, and he was standing there.” Mr. Lane gestured over to the stripper, who was working his body down the pole. DeMeco was listening but he wasn’t paying a lot of attention to the owner, not when there was grade A ass shaking.
“I immediately thought about you, DeMeco.” The man with the slicked back hair and slicker words put a hand on his shoulder, “I remember hearing how you weren’t very satisfied with our usual offerings.”
“They were just too skinny for me.” Ryans licked his lips as he watched all of those thick muscles go to work.
The shifting colors of red, blue and white flowed over the powerful body, which was body built to be smash and be smashed. DeMeco had a specific type; he had developed taste for muscular, beefy white boys. He had no problem with that kind of eye candy while playing football, but it was mostly look but don’t touch. But damn, did he ever want to touch this boy who was spread down low with his glutes peeking out of those tight, football shorts. This guy looked like he would fit right on the field with him, and definitely in his bed.
“So Cush, or that is what he is going by, came back with me to our beloved Houston.” Mr. Lane was beside himself with pride as he watched how DeMeco followed the dancer, “Always got to keep an eye open for my best clients.”
Ryans finished off his drink, “I want to a private dance,” The star player watched as Cush began to toy with the strings on his shorts, “Now.” He was already suddenly possessive, as he pushed off the bar counter.
“Uh yea, I’ll send him on his way.” Mr. Lane nodded sheepishly as he rushed over to the stage to send the stripper on his way. Cush glanced his way, and licked his full lips, before rolling it one more time for the crowd. They gave a groan as he walked off the stage, only to be quickly replaced by a curvy female, and the crowd was appeased.
DeMeco settled himself onto the plush leather seat in the champagne room, which was full of dark colors and expensive liquor. He swallowed his glass of rum as he waited and the liquor coursing through his body strong now. Sliding a hand down along his crotch, he gave his semi hard cock a squeeze. He hadn’t had a good fuck in a long awhile, and he wasn’t going to let this boy get away from him. It wouldn’t take much convincing, no, it never really did for an NFL player.
The cherry wood door opened silently as Cush stepped into the room. Ryans’ brows lifted as he took in the man up close, and there was not a flaw to be found. He really couldn’t get over those lips; men don’t get lips like that, especially not white men. The brown haired man came right on up, and he exuded some kind of attitude that only made DeMeco more determined to fuck him. With his arms over his big chest and his hips cocked, Cush stood before the linebacker like he was the one worth a few million dollars.
“You wanted to see me.” The faux hawked one asked, while his fingers toyed with the strings on his shorts.
“I already saw you,” Ryans corrected him; “I just wanted to be the only one to see the rest.” He took another drink of the sweet liquor, letting it burn down his throat.
“The rest huh?” Cush slowly pulled off the slice of clothing that he called a top, fully exposing his smooth pectorals, round shoulders and stiff nipples.
DeMeco gave a nod as he leaned back into the chair, drinking in the sight of the younger man while he imaging the possibilities. He could hear the slow, warm music beat pulsing around his head as Cush began to strut up close. The muscular man slid his hands along Ryan’s knees, feeling the expensive fabric under his palms, as he spreads his legs and goes low. He flexes his full, bubble ass a few times before sliding back up to take seat on the man’s thigh. Cush ran a light touch from DeMeco’s ear down to his jaw line, while his hips slowly rocked back and forth.
“He told me you were handsome on the flight.” He said as he leaned in and whispered along his ear, his strong body pressed up close against the NFL star.
“And everybody told me I wouldn’t be disappointed.” DeMeco practically growled as he dealt with his frustration, especially this rule against touching. He could feel his hand twitching around the glass while the other hand dug into the arm rest.
“Now who’s the famous one?” Cush teased, giving a slight tug to Ryan’s earlobe before pulling back. He untangled himself from the athlete while undoing the strings to his football shorts. With some languid moves, he turned around as he pushed them down to the ground, just giving a good show of his meaty ass and long legs. DeMeco felt his dick jump, as he got an eye full of that delicious back end.
“That ass can make you some money for damn sure.” Ryans was willing to throw a few thousand at it.
Cush looked over his shoulder, while he toyed with strings of his skimpy, navy thong. He never let that smug smirk leave those lips. He shifted his hips to the side, his ass jiggled a bit in response, and then he turned back around to face Ryans. The linebacker was definitely happy, horny, and drunk as he polished off the glass. How do you get a stripper to come home with you without making it seem so cheap? DeMeco would figure it out.
“Come’re.” He motioned and the man made his way back over.
The stripper threw a leg over and straddled Ryan’s thigh, while he moved a hand down behind the man’s neck. He leaned up against the linebacker, which brought DeMeco’s face right against his ripped stomach. When he felt those lips press against his abdominals, Cush breathed out and squeezed his neck. DeMeco could taste the light sheen of sweat on his lips and smelled the clean, fresh scent of the other man. He couldn’t stop himself though, as his hand reached back to grab a hold of that smooth ass cheek. The stripper moaned at the touch and really began to grind against the athlete; he didn’t seem to care about rules now. Sliding his tongue along the smooth skin, Demeco continued to taste Cush while his hand kneaded his ass. The moans kept coming, and Ryans realized how easy this would be…getting the man to come back with him.
“Gonna get me fired…” Cush managed to form words together between his moans.
“Nah, that would piss me off,” Ryans pulled away and licked his lips, “And they don’t want to piss me off.”
“Scary when you’re mad?” There was a definite teasing tone to that question, so DeMeco gave the big stripper’s rump a slap.
“I’ll give ya some guys’ numbers to call.” DeMeco began to lightly rub the spot he slapped, “Plenty of players will vouch that you don’t like me mad.”
“I’ve seen some of your hits; take your word for it.” Cush slowly sunk down to set himself back on the other man’s lap, with a slow grinding motion.
“Football fan huh,” DeMeco nuzzled against his neck, “How quick can I get you home?” The stripper was practically purring as he pressed light kisses to his neck.
“Pretty bold statement, Mr.Ryans.” Cush ran a slow hand along his neck, “Makes you think I’m that kind of guy?” He squeezed his thighs at the end of his statement, and really pushed him down against the chair.
“Uh, I want what I want,” DeMeco could feel his cock throbbing as it got pushed down on by the other man’s ass, “That’s the kind of guy I am.” He ran his fingers along the round curve of Cush’s backside, and then gave the string a snap.
“I got a shift to work.” The stripper moved a hand down the front of the man’s shirt; he undid the first two buttons just to be cute.
“I can pull strings,” Ryans counter and snapped the thong string for a second time, while his other hand continued to slide along the muscular curves. He was surprised by how smooth Cush was, wondered if this was natural and where else he was smooth.
“Then whenever you get to playing them, I’ll be on my way.” Cush pressed a kiss to his ear, and then tugged on it with his teeth as he crawled off DeMeco’s lap. The stripper bent over, purposefully sticking out his juicy rump, as he grabbed his shorts. “I’ll be on stage.”
“Teasing fuck…” Demeco grinned as he watched the man walk out the door, leaving him alone with his rock hard cock. He gave himself a moment, just enough time to drink down another glass of rum. Ryans needed to be calm, or calmer, before he gave Mr. Lane a very persuasive argument for letting Cush go home early. Buzzing from drinking and lust, the linebacker went to go find the owner for a…talk.
Mr. Lane was shrewd when it comes to business and the money that he would make from DeMeco Ryan’s continued service to the club was worth letting Cush go for the night. He even called a limo to take the pair home, since DeMeco was not driving in his state. And it wasn’t just the drinking; the linebacker was far too interested in the boy from New Jersey to watch the road. Ryans pulled Cush on top of him as they climbed into the limo, they sprawled themselves on the plush backseat. Mr. Lane patted himself on the back as he watched it drive off; he owed himself a drink for this success and a maybe a trip to Greece.
“God, I can’t wait to pound this ass.” DeMeco half moaned, half growled as he pushed Cush down on to his bed. The trip from the limo to his bed room had been a clumsy, drunken, messy affair. The Texan’s star ripped his shirt off, who fucking cared if the buttons ripped off, he could afford thousands of these damn things. He had only found one boy that got him going this bad, that got his dick leaking just by the way he smirked. And as Cush smugly lounged on the bed in that thong DeMeco was playing with earlier, Ryans just pictured him begging for it.
“What if I want to do the fucking?” The stripper didn’t get to say much else as DeMeco got on top of him before he heard an answer.
After pulling the shirt off, the linebacker devoured that plump dick sucking mouth. Ryans, fueled by expensive rum, aggressively attacked the younger man and didn’t pull away until he ravaged those lips. He had Cush panting hard after the kiss, his big chest rising and falling, but the expression stated he wanted more. Wrapping his hands around those big thighs, DeMeco tugged the stripper closer and forced those legs around him as they went another round.
Cush arched his back as Ryan’s mouth moved down his body, sucking hard at his neck to really stamp his mark. The linebacker slides his tongue down along the curves of his chest, right between cleavage of the two pumped pectorals. Glancing up, DeMeco watched the pleasure contortions on the stripper’s face as he ran the tip of his tongue around that semi hard nipple. He lavished attention on it while his fingers tugged and pulled on the skimpy underwear Cush had on, which was now more annoying than sexy. With all the squirming the stripper was doing, DeMeco was having a hard time getting it down those muscular legs. An idea bubbled up in his head, his lips curling into a grin as he gave the nipple a final harsh tug with his teeth.
“Fuck!” Cush was digging at the smooth, expensive sheets as his body bucked on the king sized bed. The pleasure was sharp; it went straight to his dick, which stretched the pouch of his thong obscenely.
Placing his rough hands at the waist of the stripper, DeMeco flipped him over on to his stomach. They bounced together for a moment before Ryans got back to work, and now he found find out how naturally smooth Cush was. He lightly slapped one of those bubbled cheeks before ordering the other man to lift his ass up. The linebacker tugged on the sides of the satin underwear, sliding it down enough to remove the obstacle from his hungry mouth. Spreading the bare ass open wide, Ryans saw the dark pink hole and deep crack free of hair.
“Guess it is natural.” He muttered as he licked his lips.
“What?” Cush barely heard him, his face somewhat buried into a pillow.
Without wasting any further breath, DeMeco dived between the stripper’s cheeks. He was loud, wet and messy as he worked Cush’s ass. He dug his hands into those plump mounds, getting enough under his fingers to really hold the big man in place. Cush was groaning loudly at this point and his body squirmed around as the Houston’s player ate on him like a piece of melon. He bucked and pleaded, there was no shame in begging for more. DeMeco wanted him to beg, his dick jumped every time he heard that voice sing for his tongue to probe deeper. He shoved his tongue in as face as his mouth would let him, as those smooth cheeks squeezed against his face. Eventually he had to pull away, he had to breathe, what a fucking waste. Admiring his handiwork of that wet, stretch hole, DeMeco idly squeezed and kneaded Cush’s ass to calm him down a little.
“You ready for me to bust this open.” Ryans words slurred a little from all of his drinking, but he slapped Cush to emphasize his point.
“Come on, you got me begging bro…I never fucking beg for it.” Cush replied as he looked back, making out the linebacker in the shadows. It was too dark to see but Cush was blushing, somewhat embarrassed by how slutty he had become. He had hardly drank anything, so this was all him.
“I just know what ya boys need.” Ryans, now full of ego, as he pulled his harden flesh out his undone dress pants. He slides his thick cock between those cheeks, really showing who is in charge, “And this is what you need, boy.” The southern twang really came on strong when DeMeco drank.
“Not a fucking bo-“Cush roared as Ryans pressed into his body, those thick muscles all coiling and tightening. Even in the darken room; they visibly rippled as pain coursed through his body. He bucked and pulled at the bed, as the linebacker sunk deeper and deeper inside him.
“Shh, shh…” DeMeco leaned over and kissed at Cush’s ear, trying to comfort the younger man. “Relax, relax now.”
He moved one of his hands down underneath to stroke on that leaking cock, which had freed itself from that tight pouch. The pre cum flowed into his big hand as he stroked firmly and slowly to calm the other man.
“So thick…” Cush had tears at the corner of his eyes, his breath heavy and ragged as he finally began to adjust. With his fingers dug into the plush bed, Cush began to notice the hand stroking his cock. After a few of those reassuring touches, he squeezed on DeMeco’s cock with his inner muscles.
“That’s right, baby, nice and slow.” DeMeco might be drunk but he wasn’t stupid. He hadn’t even thrust in yet, just let the stripper warm to him. He kissed and whispered sweet words into the ear, just like he used to do the boys back in ‘Bama. Until he felt the tightness constricting his cock lighten, Ryans didn’t move until Cush was ready.
After a few quiet minutes, they pair began to rebuild their momentum. DeMeco had set himself back up straight, with his hands at the narrowest point of Cush’s body, as they moved together. The stripper moaned into one of Ryan’s pillow as he took the linebacker, he was built strong enough to handle this kind of fucking. This was the kind of man Demeco had wanted, not those breakable twinks or models that usually threw themselves at him. He didn’t need to worry much as he began to thrust forward, and made that full ass jiggle as it hit his groin. God, he fucking loved the way it jiggles. It just drove him on and on; just keeps hitting it harder and harder.
Cush was getting louder; his body was burning from head to toe. As much as it might hurt, he couldn’t deny how good it felt. He bucked his hips a little, rotated them, to show he was an active part and not some submissive bitch. With his back arched and his head now up, he egged DeMeco on verbally while squeezing his ass muscles tightly. In the back of his mind, Cush remembered how he wanted to be in the NFL so badly before his knee injury. If he could keep up with a star player, in some way; he felt some equality in his own ability. Pushing back, the stripper tried to get more of DeMeco’s cock inside of him and the player responded in kind.
The bed shook as the two, powerful men tore at one another. DeMeco dug his fingers deep into the muscular shoulders, holding Cush in place as he gave one final thrust. He was fully inside as he climaxed, and his loud voice carried the sweet praises of the other man. The stripper followed, his cock gushed; a reward for keeping up with a star athlete. Yes he would be sore in a few hours, but it would like the soreness he used to feel after winning a game. It was a sensation of victory, of completeness.
Ryans collapsed on top upon the other man, the alcohol hit him hard. He nuzzled into the back of the thick neck, while his arms wrapped around Cush. He rolled them down on to the bed, basically cuddling the man like he was a giant teddy bear. Cush grunted slightly but he was also beat from a long day and now a rough, satisfying night. Neither one of them spoke; they both just feel into deep, needed sleep.
Morning Again…
DeMeco stirred when he heard the clang of pots from the kitchen, not mention that smell that filtered into the bed room. Sliding up, Ryans sat up in his bed to think about his night that was suddenly fresher in his head. He could see the imprint of Cush’s body beside him, but that was the only sign of his existence. Rubbing along his temples, the consequences of too much rum reminded him of how cruel it could be. The smell was tempting enough to get him out of bed anyway, even though his head throb with every step. He pulled on a pair of gym shorts before walking out to the kitchen. He was more than a little amuse to see the stripper working around his kitchen like some house wife.
“Morning.” DeMeco said to the broad, muscular back of the other man as he leaned on his counter.
“Yo, morning.” Cush turned around; his gelled hair had softened since the club and made him look younger than DeMeco had assumed, “Hows the head?”
“Feels like some big ass lineman sat on it.” He really took his time in looking Cush over, now that the truth of sun light was filtering along his body. Even without the club haze and rum filling his veins, Cush still looked like a guy he would see on the field. Baby faced, but he definitely had a football player body.
“Well drink up.” The man, wearing a pair of Ryan’s sweat pants, pushed a glass of orange juice his way.
“Thanks Cush.” DeMeco gulped it down, the entire glass didn’t make through one drink.
“It’s Brian,” He stepped back to his eggs, a mixture of yellows and whites that swirled around on the skillet,” Cush is just short for Cushing, my last name.”
“Oh…” The linebacker continued to watch the younger man cook, and it seemed strangely normal; familiar, “Where ya from anyway?”
“New Jersey, though I lived in California for awhile,” Brian began to pile the eggs on to a plate, “Played a few seasons at USC.”
“Yea?” DeMeco was now interested in something other than Cushing’s body and cooking skills, “You must have had some talent to get to USC.” He might be a ‘Bama boy, but USC made noise in football.
“Yea, linebacker till just knee injury took me out.” Shrugging his rounded shoulders, Brian set the food of eggs, bacon and vegetables down; typical breakfast for both of them.
“I pegged you for a football player when I first saw you on stage.” Ryans managed to get out between bites, his body was craving food.
“Whys that?” Cushing curled his full lips, grinning like a boy on Christmas morning as he watched the other eat.
“Gym bunnies don’t have legs like that,” Ryans replied bluntly and drew a laugh from the other man.
“Guess that’s true, Mr. Lane said you had some specific tastes.” Brian went back over to the stove to make something for himself, now that DeMeco was eating.
“Just high standards when it comes to ass.” He muttered as he watched those round cheeks shift under those sweat pants, “You want to come the game next weekend?” DeMeco decided to keep this kid around.
“What if I’m not a Texan’s fan?” Cushing looked over his shoulder, this was a stubborn one.
“Well you’re a football fan, and I’ll take you on a tour.” He winked, “A special kind of tour.”
“A fuck in the locker rooms kind of tour?” Brian licked his lips in a flirting reply.
“Definitely.”
Author: Darkeyedresolve aka Tommy H
Pairing: Brian Cushing/DeMeco Ryans
Rating: NC-17
Summary: DeMeco wakes up after his night at the bar, and finds a man he can’t quite remember in his bed.
Note: Inspired by du_secondaire and Nicki Minaj
Knockout
DeMeco wasn’t sure what time it was, his head was throbbing too much to care. The Texan’s linebacker only woke up because he felt something stirring beside him, something much bigger than his dog. The bed gave a groan as a heavy weight shifted, and it was enough to get Ryans’ attention. But with the pain in his head and the weariness of a long night in his bones, Ryans just gave a blurry glance over. He could see a big shape moving away from his bed but instead of going after it, DeMeco just rolled back into bed. He could still feel the bass pumping in his ears, God, he was just lucky this wasn’t a game day Sunday. The bright, glowing images swirled in his head as he fell back to sleep, not to dream, but to remember.
Last Night…
DeMeco Ryans stepped out of the cab, in sharp GQ style: crisp, red dress shirt, perfectly tailored black pants, slick looking dress shoes, and a bold, gold watch. It was money, he had it, and when he was going out tonight, he didn’t mind to show it. DeMeco had come along way of his home town down in Alabama. The successful Texan’s linebacker looked around the entrance of the building, an exclusive, member’s only bar in down town Houston. It was as none descript as it comes, no bright sign over the red door, or a red carpet rolled out; just a woman standing there. She was pretty though, in that Texas’ kind of way, with big blonde hair and great big blue eyes.
Most people didn’t even know it existed. You had to apply, with your income and career as the deciding factors, and even then you had to be somebody. Ryans liked the privacy the club offered to its clients. Even as he walked to the door; he didn’t get bothered by fans or paparazzi. It was just the elite of Houston, and well, the rest of the world.
“Good Evening sir,” The blonde girl in a tailored suit stood by the door; chic, black glasses framed her blue eyes, “Can I see your card?”
DeMeco flipped out his wallet and flashed his silver and black card, and she took it with her delicate fingers. She gave him a flirty smile as she swiped it, the door then unlocked after a second.
“Have a good night, Mr. Ryans, I think you will appreciate the new performer.” The door woman handed the card back, though she let her fingers stroke along his hand. Even though given what she knew, it was pointless to throw her womanly charms at him.
“Really, well thanks for the heads up baby.” DeMeco took off his sunglasses and gave her a smile as he moved into the posh bar.
Even though it was exclusive, the place was packed with people. You were never alone when you had money; people were crawled after cash like druggies after a fix. He always came alone; he needed to be left alone after work and this was not the setting for his southern made relations to visit. Ryans really wanted to enjoy his bye week, and by enjoy, he wanted to get wasted and fuck; just like the old days. DeMeco had learned that closeted southern boys would come out when the liquor was strong; so he had quite a tolerance in his more mature days.
So he first stopped by the bar, greeted by the smiling bar tender, to get a shot. The rum went straight to his head, and let out a good natured hoot before getting a second one. The warm sensation that ran down his throat was soon spreading out along his limbs, yea this is exactly what he wanted.
“Hitting it hard huh?” The twenty-something, modelesque man said as he finished pouring the top shelf liquor.
“Last hurrah,” Ryans smirked as he toyed with the empty glass, “Going hard on the field, going hard tonight.”
“Whatever you need, I got.” The bar tender smirked his perfect white teeth, his jaw line defined by perfectly manicured stubble. He was definitely trying, and DeMeco didn’t blame him, the guy could find the right man and be set for life.
Just he wasn’t Ryan’s type, too boney, too fake.
DeMeco noticed the beat of the music had shifted and the lights from the stage began to flash, it was time for a show. He got a drink this time, rum and coke, as he turned his attention to the glowing center. Ryans tapped his foot along to the song, bringing the glass to his lips as they all waited. The wait was short as he walked out to the stage, and the Texan’s player knew exactly who the girl had been talking about. A male stripper, one with a faux hawk, wearing a very slutty version of a football uniform swaggered out to the pole. Demeco had to smirk a little more boldly as he saw whose uniform he was wearing, thought it was cut under his chest, his last name was clearly along the shoulders. Those little white shorts didn’t hide much, bulging in front, and stretched over a set of seriously, plump cheeks.
“You like the added touch?” A male voice called over his shoulder, filtering its way through the heavy bass.
“Trying to butter me up, Mr. Lane?” The linebacker glanced over his shoulder as an older man, 50s, stepped up next to him at the bar. They exchanged a handshake; this was the club’s somewhat eccentric owner.
“Well you see, it all happened by coincidence,” He moved expressive hands as he explained himself, “I was at the airport in New York City, and he was standing there.” Mr. Lane gestured over to the stripper, who was working his body down the pole. DeMeco was listening but he wasn’t paying a lot of attention to the owner, not when there was grade A ass shaking.
“I immediately thought about you, DeMeco.” The man with the slicked back hair and slicker words put a hand on his shoulder, “I remember hearing how you weren’t very satisfied with our usual offerings.”
“They were just too skinny for me.” Ryans licked his lips as he watched all of those thick muscles go to work.
The shifting colors of red, blue and white flowed over the powerful body, which was body built to be smash and be smashed. DeMeco had a specific type; he had developed taste for muscular, beefy white boys. He had no problem with that kind of eye candy while playing football, but it was mostly look but don’t touch. But damn, did he ever want to touch this boy who was spread down low with his glutes peeking out of those tight, football shorts. This guy looked like he would fit right on the field with him, and definitely in his bed.
“So Cush, or that is what he is going by, came back with me to our beloved Houston.” Mr. Lane was beside himself with pride as he watched how DeMeco followed the dancer, “Always got to keep an eye open for my best clients.”
Ryans finished off his drink, “I want to a private dance,” The star player watched as Cush began to toy with the strings on his shorts, “Now.” He was already suddenly possessive, as he pushed off the bar counter.
“Uh yea, I’ll send him on his way.” Mr. Lane nodded sheepishly as he rushed over to the stage to send the stripper on his way. Cush glanced his way, and licked his full lips, before rolling it one more time for the crowd. They gave a groan as he walked off the stage, only to be quickly replaced by a curvy female, and the crowd was appeased.
DeMeco settled himself onto the plush leather seat in the champagne room, which was full of dark colors and expensive liquor. He swallowed his glass of rum as he waited and the liquor coursing through his body strong now. Sliding a hand down along his crotch, he gave his semi hard cock a squeeze. He hadn’t had a good fuck in a long awhile, and he wasn’t going to let this boy get away from him. It wouldn’t take much convincing, no, it never really did for an NFL player.
The cherry wood door opened silently as Cush stepped into the room. Ryans’ brows lifted as he took in the man up close, and there was not a flaw to be found. He really couldn’t get over those lips; men don’t get lips like that, especially not white men. The brown haired man came right on up, and he exuded some kind of attitude that only made DeMeco more determined to fuck him. With his arms over his big chest and his hips cocked, Cush stood before the linebacker like he was the one worth a few million dollars.
“You wanted to see me.” The faux hawked one asked, while his fingers toyed with the strings on his shorts.
“I already saw you,” Ryans corrected him; “I just wanted to be the only one to see the rest.” He took another drink of the sweet liquor, letting it burn down his throat.
“The rest huh?” Cush slowly pulled off the slice of clothing that he called a top, fully exposing his smooth pectorals, round shoulders and stiff nipples.
DeMeco gave a nod as he leaned back into the chair, drinking in the sight of the younger man while he imaging the possibilities. He could hear the slow, warm music beat pulsing around his head as Cush began to strut up close. The muscular man slid his hands along Ryan’s knees, feeling the expensive fabric under his palms, as he spreads his legs and goes low. He flexes his full, bubble ass a few times before sliding back up to take seat on the man’s thigh. Cush ran a light touch from DeMeco’s ear down to his jaw line, while his hips slowly rocked back and forth.
“He told me you were handsome on the flight.” He said as he leaned in and whispered along his ear, his strong body pressed up close against the NFL star.
“And everybody told me I wouldn’t be disappointed.” DeMeco practically growled as he dealt with his frustration, especially this rule against touching. He could feel his hand twitching around the glass while the other hand dug into the arm rest.
“Now who’s the famous one?” Cush teased, giving a slight tug to Ryan’s earlobe before pulling back. He untangled himself from the athlete while undoing the strings to his football shorts. With some languid moves, he turned around as he pushed them down to the ground, just giving a good show of his meaty ass and long legs. DeMeco felt his dick jump, as he got an eye full of that delicious back end.
“That ass can make you some money for damn sure.” Ryans was willing to throw a few thousand at it.
Cush looked over his shoulder, while he toyed with strings of his skimpy, navy thong. He never let that smug smirk leave those lips. He shifted his hips to the side, his ass jiggled a bit in response, and then he turned back around to face Ryans. The linebacker was definitely happy, horny, and drunk as he polished off the glass. How do you get a stripper to come home with you without making it seem so cheap? DeMeco would figure it out.
“Come’re.” He motioned and the man made his way back over.
The stripper threw a leg over and straddled Ryan’s thigh, while he moved a hand down behind the man’s neck. He leaned up against the linebacker, which brought DeMeco’s face right against his ripped stomach. When he felt those lips press against his abdominals, Cush breathed out and squeezed his neck. DeMeco could taste the light sheen of sweat on his lips and smelled the clean, fresh scent of the other man. He couldn’t stop himself though, as his hand reached back to grab a hold of that smooth ass cheek. The stripper moaned at the touch and really began to grind against the athlete; he didn’t seem to care about rules now. Sliding his tongue along the smooth skin, Demeco continued to taste Cush while his hand kneaded his ass. The moans kept coming, and Ryans realized how easy this would be…getting the man to come back with him.
“Gonna get me fired…” Cush managed to form words together between his moans.
“Nah, that would piss me off,” Ryans pulled away and licked his lips, “And they don’t want to piss me off.”
“Scary when you’re mad?” There was a definite teasing tone to that question, so DeMeco gave the big stripper’s rump a slap.
“I’ll give ya some guys’ numbers to call.” DeMeco began to lightly rub the spot he slapped, “Plenty of players will vouch that you don’t like me mad.”
“I’ve seen some of your hits; take your word for it.” Cush slowly sunk down to set himself back on the other man’s lap, with a slow grinding motion.
“Football fan huh,” DeMeco nuzzled against his neck, “How quick can I get you home?” The stripper was practically purring as he pressed light kisses to his neck.
“Pretty bold statement, Mr.Ryans.” Cush ran a slow hand along his neck, “Makes you think I’m that kind of guy?” He squeezed his thighs at the end of his statement, and really pushed him down against the chair.
“Uh, I want what I want,” DeMeco could feel his cock throbbing as it got pushed down on by the other man’s ass, “That’s the kind of guy I am.” He ran his fingers along the round curve of Cush’s backside, and then gave the string a snap.
“I got a shift to work.” The stripper moved a hand down the front of the man’s shirt; he undid the first two buttons just to be cute.
“I can pull strings,” Ryans counter and snapped the thong string for a second time, while his other hand continued to slide along the muscular curves. He was surprised by how smooth Cush was, wondered if this was natural and where else he was smooth.
“Then whenever you get to playing them, I’ll be on my way.” Cush pressed a kiss to his ear, and then tugged on it with his teeth as he crawled off DeMeco’s lap. The stripper bent over, purposefully sticking out his juicy rump, as he grabbed his shorts. “I’ll be on stage.”
“Teasing fuck…” Demeco grinned as he watched the man walk out the door, leaving him alone with his rock hard cock. He gave himself a moment, just enough time to drink down another glass of rum. Ryans needed to be calm, or calmer, before he gave Mr. Lane a very persuasive argument for letting Cush go home early. Buzzing from drinking and lust, the linebacker went to go find the owner for a…talk.
Mr. Lane was shrewd when it comes to business and the money that he would make from DeMeco Ryan’s continued service to the club was worth letting Cush go for the night. He even called a limo to take the pair home, since DeMeco was not driving in his state. And it wasn’t just the drinking; the linebacker was far too interested in the boy from New Jersey to watch the road. Ryans pulled Cush on top of him as they climbed into the limo, they sprawled themselves on the plush backseat. Mr. Lane patted himself on the back as he watched it drive off; he owed himself a drink for this success and a maybe a trip to Greece.
“God, I can’t wait to pound this ass.” DeMeco half moaned, half growled as he pushed Cush down on to his bed. The trip from the limo to his bed room had been a clumsy, drunken, messy affair. The Texan’s star ripped his shirt off, who fucking cared if the buttons ripped off, he could afford thousands of these damn things. He had only found one boy that got him going this bad, that got his dick leaking just by the way he smirked. And as Cush smugly lounged on the bed in that thong DeMeco was playing with earlier, Ryans just pictured him begging for it.
“What if I want to do the fucking?” The stripper didn’t get to say much else as DeMeco got on top of him before he heard an answer.
After pulling the shirt off, the linebacker devoured that plump dick sucking mouth. Ryans, fueled by expensive rum, aggressively attacked the younger man and didn’t pull away until he ravaged those lips. He had Cush panting hard after the kiss, his big chest rising and falling, but the expression stated he wanted more. Wrapping his hands around those big thighs, DeMeco tugged the stripper closer and forced those legs around him as they went another round.
Cush arched his back as Ryan’s mouth moved down his body, sucking hard at his neck to really stamp his mark. The linebacker slides his tongue down along the curves of his chest, right between cleavage of the two pumped pectorals. Glancing up, DeMeco watched the pleasure contortions on the stripper’s face as he ran the tip of his tongue around that semi hard nipple. He lavished attention on it while his fingers tugged and pulled on the skimpy underwear Cush had on, which was now more annoying than sexy. With all the squirming the stripper was doing, DeMeco was having a hard time getting it down those muscular legs. An idea bubbled up in his head, his lips curling into a grin as he gave the nipple a final harsh tug with his teeth.
“Fuck!” Cush was digging at the smooth, expensive sheets as his body bucked on the king sized bed. The pleasure was sharp; it went straight to his dick, which stretched the pouch of his thong obscenely.
Placing his rough hands at the waist of the stripper, DeMeco flipped him over on to his stomach. They bounced together for a moment before Ryans got back to work, and now he found find out how naturally smooth Cush was. He lightly slapped one of those bubbled cheeks before ordering the other man to lift his ass up. The linebacker tugged on the sides of the satin underwear, sliding it down enough to remove the obstacle from his hungry mouth. Spreading the bare ass open wide, Ryans saw the dark pink hole and deep crack free of hair.
“Guess it is natural.” He muttered as he licked his lips.
“What?” Cush barely heard him, his face somewhat buried into a pillow.
Without wasting any further breath, DeMeco dived between the stripper’s cheeks. He was loud, wet and messy as he worked Cush’s ass. He dug his hands into those plump mounds, getting enough under his fingers to really hold the big man in place. Cush was groaning loudly at this point and his body squirmed around as the Houston’s player ate on him like a piece of melon. He bucked and pleaded, there was no shame in begging for more. DeMeco wanted him to beg, his dick jumped every time he heard that voice sing for his tongue to probe deeper. He shoved his tongue in as face as his mouth would let him, as those smooth cheeks squeezed against his face. Eventually he had to pull away, he had to breathe, what a fucking waste. Admiring his handiwork of that wet, stretch hole, DeMeco idly squeezed and kneaded Cush’s ass to calm him down a little.
“You ready for me to bust this open.” Ryans words slurred a little from all of his drinking, but he slapped Cush to emphasize his point.
“Come on, you got me begging bro…I never fucking beg for it.” Cush replied as he looked back, making out the linebacker in the shadows. It was too dark to see but Cush was blushing, somewhat embarrassed by how slutty he had become. He had hardly drank anything, so this was all him.
“I just know what ya boys need.” Ryans, now full of ego, as he pulled his harden flesh out his undone dress pants. He slides his thick cock between those cheeks, really showing who is in charge, “And this is what you need, boy.” The southern twang really came on strong when DeMeco drank.
“Not a fucking bo-“Cush roared as Ryans pressed into his body, those thick muscles all coiling and tightening. Even in the darken room; they visibly rippled as pain coursed through his body. He bucked and pulled at the bed, as the linebacker sunk deeper and deeper inside him.
“Shh, shh…” DeMeco leaned over and kissed at Cush’s ear, trying to comfort the younger man. “Relax, relax now.”
He moved one of his hands down underneath to stroke on that leaking cock, which had freed itself from that tight pouch. The pre cum flowed into his big hand as he stroked firmly and slowly to calm the other man.
“So thick…” Cush had tears at the corner of his eyes, his breath heavy and ragged as he finally began to adjust. With his fingers dug into the plush bed, Cush began to notice the hand stroking his cock. After a few of those reassuring touches, he squeezed on DeMeco’s cock with his inner muscles.
“That’s right, baby, nice and slow.” DeMeco might be drunk but he wasn’t stupid. He hadn’t even thrust in yet, just let the stripper warm to him. He kissed and whispered sweet words into the ear, just like he used to do the boys back in ‘Bama. Until he felt the tightness constricting his cock lighten, Ryans didn’t move until Cush was ready.
After a few quiet minutes, they pair began to rebuild their momentum. DeMeco had set himself back up straight, with his hands at the narrowest point of Cush’s body, as they moved together. The stripper moaned into one of Ryan’s pillow as he took the linebacker, he was built strong enough to handle this kind of fucking. This was the kind of man Demeco had wanted, not those breakable twinks or models that usually threw themselves at him. He didn’t need to worry much as he began to thrust forward, and made that full ass jiggle as it hit his groin. God, he fucking loved the way it jiggles. It just drove him on and on; just keeps hitting it harder and harder.
Cush was getting louder; his body was burning from head to toe. As much as it might hurt, he couldn’t deny how good it felt. He bucked his hips a little, rotated them, to show he was an active part and not some submissive bitch. With his back arched and his head now up, he egged DeMeco on verbally while squeezing his ass muscles tightly. In the back of his mind, Cush remembered how he wanted to be in the NFL so badly before his knee injury. If he could keep up with a star player, in some way; he felt some equality in his own ability. Pushing back, the stripper tried to get more of DeMeco’s cock inside of him and the player responded in kind.
The bed shook as the two, powerful men tore at one another. DeMeco dug his fingers deep into the muscular shoulders, holding Cush in place as he gave one final thrust. He was fully inside as he climaxed, and his loud voice carried the sweet praises of the other man. The stripper followed, his cock gushed; a reward for keeping up with a star athlete. Yes he would be sore in a few hours, but it would like the soreness he used to feel after winning a game. It was a sensation of victory, of completeness.
Ryans collapsed on top upon the other man, the alcohol hit him hard. He nuzzled into the back of the thick neck, while his arms wrapped around Cush. He rolled them down on to the bed, basically cuddling the man like he was a giant teddy bear. Cush grunted slightly but he was also beat from a long day and now a rough, satisfying night. Neither one of them spoke; they both just feel into deep, needed sleep.
Morning Again…
DeMeco stirred when he heard the clang of pots from the kitchen, not mention that smell that filtered into the bed room. Sliding up, Ryans sat up in his bed to think about his night that was suddenly fresher in his head. He could see the imprint of Cush’s body beside him, but that was the only sign of his existence. Rubbing along his temples, the consequences of too much rum reminded him of how cruel it could be. The smell was tempting enough to get him out of bed anyway, even though his head throb with every step. He pulled on a pair of gym shorts before walking out to the kitchen. He was more than a little amuse to see the stripper working around his kitchen like some house wife.
“Morning.” DeMeco said to the broad, muscular back of the other man as he leaned on his counter.
“Yo, morning.” Cush turned around; his gelled hair had softened since the club and made him look younger than DeMeco had assumed, “Hows the head?”
“Feels like some big ass lineman sat on it.” He really took his time in looking Cush over, now that the truth of sun light was filtering along his body. Even without the club haze and rum filling his veins, Cush still looked like a guy he would see on the field. Baby faced, but he definitely had a football player body.
“Well drink up.” The man, wearing a pair of Ryan’s sweat pants, pushed a glass of orange juice his way.
“Thanks Cush.” DeMeco gulped it down, the entire glass didn’t make through one drink.
“It’s Brian,” He stepped back to his eggs, a mixture of yellows and whites that swirled around on the skillet,” Cush is just short for Cushing, my last name.”
“Oh…” The linebacker continued to watch the younger man cook, and it seemed strangely normal; familiar, “Where ya from anyway?”
“New Jersey, though I lived in California for awhile,” Brian began to pile the eggs on to a plate, “Played a few seasons at USC.”
“Yea?” DeMeco was now interested in something other than Cushing’s body and cooking skills, “You must have had some talent to get to USC.” He might be a ‘Bama boy, but USC made noise in football.
“Yea, linebacker till just knee injury took me out.” Shrugging his rounded shoulders, Brian set the food of eggs, bacon and vegetables down; typical breakfast for both of them.
“I pegged you for a football player when I first saw you on stage.” Ryans managed to get out between bites, his body was craving food.
“Whys that?” Cushing curled his full lips, grinning like a boy on Christmas morning as he watched the other eat.
“Gym bunnies don’t have legs like that,” Ryans replied bluntly and drew a laugh from the other man.
“Guess that’s true, Mr. Lane said you had some specific tastes.” Brian went back over to the stove to make something for himself, now that DeMeco was eating.
“Just high standards when it comes to ass.” He muttered as he watched those round cheeks shift under those sweat pants, “You want to come the game next weekend?” DeMeco decided to keep this kid around.
“What if I’m not a Texan’s fan?” Cushing looked over his shoulder, this was a stubborn one.
“Well you’re a football fan, and I’ll take you on a tour.” He winked, “A special kind of tour.”
“A fuck in the locker rooms kind of tour?” Brian licked his lips in a flirting reply.
“Definitely.”