Drabbles part 4!
The explanation of how false this is here.
1. Maarten Stekelenburg/Petr Cech.
The world of football hungered for new names. Petr Cech was already ringing in the ears of everyone who wanted to know about new and great goalkeepers. Maarten Stekelenburg was still a bit shadowed by Edwin van der Sar.
Though, at the casting for that ad about goalkeeping, he certainly didn't look as if he wanted to be shadowed. by anyone. In fact, he looked as if he was absolutely trying to call everyone's attention.
Or, most likely, Petr's attention.
The way he bended over to pick a ball. Carelessly lifting the hem of his sports top to scratch an imaginary itch out of his hipbone.
And then, the way he threw the ball towards Petr after a good save, a throw usually accompanied by a wink or a look conveying his intentions.
Later, when he was fucking the pretty Czech goalkeeper, Maarten panted as his hands tightened around Petr's hips:
"Oh yeah. Knew you would fall, pretty boy."
Petr let out a breathy chuckle.
He'd just wanted to let that guy, ranked below him as a goalie, to have his fun.
2. Dimitar Berbatov/Cristiano Ronaldo
Surely the girls who were choosing the Portuguese as the sexiest soccer player (just below David Beckham) were blind, Dimi thought, shaking his head. He'd been the cover boy for European Vogues god knows how many times. Not to mention the ads that showed him in a suit, or, why not, naked. He was the sexy man there. Not some silly and conceited newbie in the business. He was a good player, but that was all.
Who gave nice, tight hugs.
Who, everytime he bended over, would show off that jewel of a butt.
Who spent way too much time in the showers, as if he wanted to show off his body--
Too conceited, the boy. So, when Berba stormed in his shower, pushed him against the wall, and fucked him, it was just a matter of showing him who was sexier, and of stopping that endless teasing and showing off.
No, Berba would never admit he was ranked below as a sex symbol because Cris was actually that sex god everybody liked to fantasize about.
3. Gary Neville/Wayne Rooney
"If you want to last in this team, you may need to learn something from Gary." That was what Alex Ferguson had said, some months ago, after Wayne was having his dry spell at the goal. He was fighting with everybody and getting into trouble--but, after that piece of advice, he'd magically gone back in action.
And he still hadn't talked with Gary Neville.
So, Roo decided to take advantage of the testimonial's afterparty, and joined the guys at the pub. At first, Gaz was joking with Becks, local jokes flying around, and Wayne was bored, drinking pint after pint.
Perhaps it was the alcohol, but when the jokes ended and the anecdotes started, he found himself listening very attentively.
So attentively he didn't realize when had everyone left until he was the only one left with Gaz.
Then they left for Gaz's flat, to keep the chat going...
More drinks...
Then it had been kisses, and bed, and when Wayne woke up, feeling strangely sore between his legs, he knew he had learned too much fron United's most faithful servant.
4. Edwin van der Sar/Pavel Nedved
Ed's idea of a party was not in Turin and had to do with Juventus, but Alex had invited him, and he had been such a good friend to him Ed knew he couldn't turn down the invitation.
Fortunately, none of the bullies he had known were there. The party was full of new guys. Alex introduced them all to Edwin. The last one was a long-haired blonde.
"He's Pavel. He has a lot in common with you, Ed."
A conversation made the Dutchman think his friend had been wrong.
The drinks made him realize Alex had been right. They were locked inside a room, Pavel riding him, his hips gyrating, his cock leaking. That lithe body felt so good. And the words were filthy. The guy seemed to have forgotten Ed knew Italian.
But that didn't matter.
Alex had known they both loved... pleasure.
5. Edwin van der Sar/...should I name the list?
Looking back at his life on the pitch, Ed doesn't regret a thing.
He had a long and successful career. He's respected. He's a hero.
That was on the pitch. But, there, inside the locker rooms...
He doesn't regret a thing either.
The best part is, he can name them all. And remember them all. How they felt inside him. He could even distinguish the identical DeBoers, just by the way they fucked him. Frankie was sweeter, slower, wanton. Ron liked it rough and quick.
There was also Phillip. He shared a birthday with him. And a bed. And their virginities. Phil was cute, into the missionary position, and very careful.
Alex, who, when he was in Juventus, made him feel wanted with his warm, slow way of having sex.
Marco, his coach. Ed remembers his hunger for him, when he came into his room in the middle of the night, drunk and sad and thinking he was not doing the right thing as a coach and hating the team because they hated him back. He then fucked Edwin with urgency, as if wanting to feel everything was not lost.
Rio and his way of fucking--hard, fast, his long shaft buried to the hilt. Some could even consider it violent, but Ed knew it wasn't. It was just Rio's passion for him. Unlike his partner Vida, strong, but controlled, even careful.
Berba's shyness and clumsiness when he got a turn.
And, of course, Ruud, his number one. Ruud, the man he had known in slow sex, horny and rough, pounding his sweet spot, quiet, screaming out in pleasure.
Ed smiles. All of them, special in their own way.
Nothing to regret.
1. Maarten Stekelenburg/Petr Cech.
The world of football hungered for new names. Petr Cech was already ringing in the ears of everyone who wanted to know about new and great goalkeepers. Maarten Stekelenburg was still a bit shadowed by Edwin van der Sar.
Though, at the casting for that ad about goalkeeping, he certainly didn't look as if he wanted to be shadowed. by anyone. In fact, he looked as if he was absolutely trying to call everyone's attention.
Or, most likely, Petr's attention.
The way he bended over to pick a ball. Carelessly lifting the hem of his sports top to scratch an imaginary itch out of his hipbone.
And then, the way he threw the ball towards Petr after a good save, a throw usually accompanied by a wink or a look conveying his intentions.
Later, when he was fucking the pretty Czech goalkeeper, Maarten panted as his hands tightened around Petr's hips:
"Oh yeah. Knew you would fall, pretty boy."
Petr let out a breathy chuckle.
He'd just wanted to let that guy, ranked below him as a goalie, to have his fun.
2. Dimitar Berbatov/Cristiano Ronaldo
Surely the girls who were choosing the Portuguese as the sexiest soccer player (just below David Beckham) were blind, Dimi thought, shaking his head. He'd been the cover boy for European Vogues god knows how many times. Not to mention the ads that showed him in a suit, or, why not, naked. He was the sexy man there. Not some silly and conceited newbie in the business. He was a good player, but that was all.
Who gave nice, tight hugs.
Who, everytime he bended over, would show off that jewel of a butt.
Who spent way too much time in the showers, as if he wanted to show off his body--
Too conceited, the boy. So, when Berba stormed in his shower, pushed him against the wall, and fucked him, it was just a matter of showing him who was sexier, and of stopping that endless teasing and showing off.
No, Berba would never admit he was ranked below as a sex symbol because Cris was actually that sex god everybody liked to fantasize about.
3. Gary Neville/Wayne Rooney
"If you want to last in this team, you may need to learn something from Gary." That was what Alex Ferguson had said, some months ago, after Wayne was having his dry spell at the goal. He was fighting with everybody and getting into trouble--but, after that piece of advice, he'd magically gone back in action.
And he still hadn't talked with Gary Neville.
So, Roo decided to take advantage of the testimonial's afterparty, and joined the guys at the pub. At first, Gaz was joking with Becks, local jokes flying around, and Wayne was bored, drinking pint after pint.
Perhaps it was the alcohol, but when the jokes ended and the anecdotes started, he found himself listening very attentively.
So attentively he didn't realize when had everyone left until he was the only one left with Gaz.
Then they left for Gaz's flat, to keep the chat going...
More drinks...
Then it had been kisses, and bed, and when Wayne woke up, feeling strangely sore between his legs, he knew he had learned too much fron United's most faithful servant.
4. Edwin van der Sar/Pavel Nedved
Ed's idea of a party was not in Turin and had to do with Juventus, but Alex had invited him, and he had been such a good friend to him Ed knew he couldn't turn down the invitation.
Fortunately, none of the bullies he had known were there. The party was full of new guys. Alex introduced them all to Edwin. The last one was a long-haired blonde.
"He's Pavel. He has a lot in common with you, Ed."
A conversation made the Dutchman think his friend had been wrong.
The drinks made him realize Alex had been right. They were locked inside a room, Pavel riding him, his hips gyrating, his cock leaking. That lithe body felt so good. And the words were filthy. The guy seemed to have forgotten Ed knew Italian.
But that didn't matter.
Alex had known they both loved... pleasure.
5. Edwin van der Sar/...should I name the list?
Looking back at his life on the pitch, Ed doesn't regret a thing.
He had a long and successful career. He's respected. He's a hero.
That was on the pitch. But, there, inside the locker rooms...
He doesn't regret a thing either.
The best part is, he can name them all. And remember them all. How they felt inside him. He could even distinguish the identical DeBoers, just by the way they fucked him. Frankie was sweeter, slower, wanton. Ron liked it rough and quick.
There was also Phillip. He shared a birthday with him. And a bed. And their virginities. Phil was cute, into the missionary position, and very careful.
Alex, who, when he was in Juventus, made him feel wanted with his warm, slow way of having sex.
Marco, his coach. Ed remembers his hunger for him, when he came into his room in the middle of the night, drunk and sad and thinking he was not doing the right thing as a coach and hating the team because they hated him back. He then fucked Edwin with urgency, as if wanting to feel everything was not lost.
Rio and his way of fucking--hard, fast, his long shaft buried to the hilt. Some could even consider it violent, but Ed knew it wasn't. It was just Rio's passion for him. Unlike his partner Vida, strong, but controlled, even careful.
Berba's shyness and clumsiness when he got a turn.
And, of course, Ruud, his number one. Ruud, the man he had known in slow sex, horny and rough, pounding his sweet spot, quiet, screaming out in pleasure.
Ed smiles. All of them, special in their own way.
Nothing to regret.