They just keep coming...
I have been corrupted by this community. ;) So here's yet another drabble from me. Might not be everyone's kind of pairing, but I've made no secret of the fact that it is mine. ;)
Title: Gratitude
Pairing: Frank Lampard/Roman Abramovich
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The events depicted in this entirely fictional story are a figment of my sick and twisted imagination. Or to put it simply: not true, never happened, all lies.
Notes: After the stories about Abramovich lending Frank his yacht for a fortnight and because of my well-known craving for this particular pairing, I could not resist. ;)
The party has broken up and everyone has returned to their cabins for some much needed rest.
Only two people stay behind. Sitting side by side on an otherwise deserted deck, gazing together at the vast expanse of ocean, sipping the last of the champagne.
“I don't know how to thank you.” Frank says.
Roman smiles. “My pleasure for what you did for the team.”
“Doesn't seem to weigh up against all of this, though.”
Roman reaches out to slowly unbutton Frank's shorts, slips a hand inside, curling his fingers around a rapidly hardening cock. He whispers against Frank's lips. “It will.”
Title: Gratitude
Pairing: Frank Lampard/Roman Abramovich
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The events depicted in this entirely fictional story are a figment of my sick and twisted imagination. Or to put it simply: not true, never happened, all lies.
Notes: After the stories about Abramovich lending Frank his yacht for a fortnight and because of my well-known craving for this particular pairing, I could not resist. ;)
The party has broken up and everyone has returned to their cabins for some much needed rest.
Only two people stay behind. Sitting side by side on an otherwise deserted deck, gazing together at the vast expanse of ocean, sipping the last of the champagne.
“I don't know how to thank you.” Frank says.
Roman smiles. “My pleasure for what you did for the team.”
“Doesn't seem to weigh up against all of this, though.”
Roman reaches out to slowly unbutton Frank's shorts, slips a hand inside, curling his fingers around a rapidly hardening cock. He whispers against Frank's lips. “It will.”