All because of a bet...ter thing to do
Rating: NC-17.
Pairing: Edwin van der Sar/Fernando Torres. Oh yeah. Several others mentioned just for fun.
Disclaimer: Never, ever, ever, ever happened. As I have said, JUST FOR FUN.
Summary: Ed decides to try... something new.
Special thanks: aka_centimetre2 , as always! Hope you enjoy it though you don't like Nando!
According to Ed, it all started when he found Rio rolling in the bed with asshole Berba (more literally that he would have wanted to admit) in his hotel room. He had left afterwards, wondering what had happened now; once again what he had thought was a relationship seemed over. Though, when Rio went looking for him next morning at training, he assured the Dutchman it was not so.
"'Ere, matey, not what you think."
"Tell me what it is, then," Edwin was obviously not convinced.
Rio scratched his head.
"C'mon, matey. Don' tell me you don' feel like experimentin' with some other arse ev'ry now n' then."
Eh, no, Ed had thought, but then, during the series of ball-stopping, he found himself thinking about what Rio had said.
And it made no sense. He didn't experiment with arses. It was his arse the one that was... well, used.
He had been "bottom" since Ajax, where he was considered the young and consequently curious newcomer. Then had come Juve, where the Italians had been too macho to be "receivers"--though Alex del Piero was getting it up the arse from Cannavaro, but he would not admit it, so he fucked Ed too. Then he had gone on to England, finally gotten to ManU, and met Ruud. And he had liked it, being fucked by him, falling in love with him... Until Ruud fucked Cris and he hadn't known what to think.
"Edwin, Ed," Ruud had said then, trying to apologize. "It was only a fuck. It has nothing to do with us. I want to be with you... Ed."
However, distance had done the rest. Ruud had gone to Madrid, and he became a long-distance sex buddy, with whom he talked on the phone frequently but only fucked on internationals--and now that he had retired from internationals, he wasn't sure if he could be considered that.
He had started fucking Rio by then--the swarthy defender was a little rough around the edges, but he always seemed to be looking for physical contact during games, such as a pat, a hug or something. Then the contact had increased, and Ed had liked it, the feeling of the crazy, foul-mouthed Rio being someone different on bed; yes, rough--kinky sex was always on the menu--but caring. His Rio. But now it seemed Rio was no longer his.
Ed would have liked to talk about it with some of the guys. After all, were good friends. But he couldn't get himself to do it because of the peculiar sexual situations. Wayne, for example, had shifted from fucking Michael Carrick to fucking Darren--who was fucking Carrick too, but that didn't seem to matter. Vida, for his part, had gone from forward Nani back to defense and was now bedding Chris Smalling. And the younger guys, Chicha, Bebé, Fabio... well, Ed knew they liked him, they considered him a legend, but they weren't aware of many things that happened behind closed doors in the hotel, and telling them would be the best way to get them running out of there.
And no, he sure as hell was not going to call Ruud. Ruud, of all people, to discuss his... boyfriend? fucking another man. Not Ruud to talk about what he had equally done.
That was why he ended up videocalling another Dutchman, forgetting they were going to meet on the Sunday match.
Dirk Kuyt and the others from Liverpool were getting a drink in a pub, pre-game, to get their spirits up; yet, when Dirk's phone rang and he saw it was Edwin, he went to the gents' room, wondering what the goalkeeper would want. Why was Ed calling him, if they were going to meet on Sunday?
"Trying to scare the boys before the game, huh?" Dirk said as a greeting.
"Actually, I was just calling you so you could answer a poll," Ed answered. "Dirk, do you like experimenting on other arses?"
"What???"
"That was what Rio told me," the goalkeeper sighed. "I saw him fucking Dimitar Berbatov earlier this morning."
"Oh. Sorry, Edwin. Are you ok?"
"Yeah, I'm not looking for a shoulder to cry on." Edwin van der Sar, always keeping his cool. "In fact, I just wanted to ask for relationship advice. Dirk, you've been with Rafa for as long as I can remember. How do you do it?"
"Do what, Ed?"
The goalkeeper was silent for a moment, but then said: "How do you know he is not fucking any other guy?"
His question was greeted by a laugh.
"Oh, Van der Sar! Of course Rafa has fucked many other guys. He was in Real, remember? And Real is another name for whorehouse. He's been quieter now that he's here at Tottenham, but fucking... man, he's had his nice share."
"And.. you still date him?" Ed felt really confused now.
"Of course. It's not like I'm an angel either."
"You fuck other guys too?"
"Of course!" Dirk laughed again. "It's permitted, as long as you don't break the rules."
"Oh, so there are rules now?" Edwin van der Sar was feeling like a teenage girl pining for a boy right now, and that was... annoying, to say the least. And Dirk, who was younger than him, was lecturing him. Lame.
"Yes," the other Dutchman went on. "A fuck is a fuck. That's all. No feeling involved, because love is for Rafa. You fuck the guy, both are happy, you can go home now, just friends. Getting feelings involved is the problem, but if you don't, it's ok."
"And that's what happens with Rafa and you."
"Yes. And we have such a good time. Mind you, some guys here at Liverpool are such... well, whores. Daniel Agger for instance. Or Fernando Torres..."
"Hey, Dirk, you talking about me? Who is on your phone screen?" that was the very same Nando, who had just entered the bathroom, asking questions in his badly-spoken English... and who had craned his head to see the screen before Dirk could shield it away.
"Hey... that is Edwin from Manchester! What are you doing, Dirk? Giving him clues to beat us?"
"Shut up Nando, this is business--"
"Hey Edwin!" Well, it seemed the boy was really drunk, Ed thought, as he pushed Dirk aside and reached for his phone. "Kiss my ass!"
"Polite kid, huh?" the goalkeeper said, calmly.
"You gonna lose the match!" Fernando was insisting. "Wanna bet with me? I bet. Anything."
"Anything?" Edwin asked then.
"Anything. Because you gonna lose."
Ed then saw, at the corner of the screen, Dirk's face, giving him a knowing look... and god, Ed knew that look. He immediately caught his friend's plan... though he tried to hide his embarrassment when he said:
"Liverpool loses, I want to fuck you."
Fernando laughed out loud.
"Ha! And if we win?"
Ed again tried to keep his cool. "You fuck me, then."
Another laugh. "You just want cock, tall one. Because we gonna win!"
Edwin looked once again at his friend, who discreetly gave him the thumbs up.
He only hoped it had been a good idea.
And, just his luck, the game had been a perfect one for the Red Devils. Dimitar Berbatov (even Ed had to admit it) had played wonderfully, actually achieving a hattrick, giving no chance to Liverpool.
So, when the final whistle rang, Ed knew it was time for his bet...
He walked on to Fernando, and whispered his hotel room number--he could have sworn the boy smiled brightly.
Later that evening, Edwin was lying on his bed, feeling slightly nervous--and surprised about that.
He wasn't thinking perhaps Fernando would not come. He knew the boy would actually be true to the bet--that was what made him nervous.
At the first knock on the door, Ed got up and opened the door.
Sure enough, Fernando was there, his longish, half-fair hair falling all over his freckled face, a half-coy, half-naughty smile on his mouth.
Dirk had said something about the boy once, and Ed would see he was right. The striker was so pretty, he could have been a girl.
"You gonna let me come in?"
"Sure, sure. Sorry." Ed moved aside so Fernando could go in and sit down at the bed, leaving his light jacket by his side. Now Edwin could see the striker's slender arms, the tattoos on them. He was wearing a black wifebeater with jeans: it almost looked as if the arms he always hid underneath his favored long-sleeved kit were being shown off now. To the goalkeeper.
Then, the younger man stretched lazily--his wifebeater traveled upwards a little, and Edwin could see the striker's lean hips, holding his low jeans in place.
A fucking tease. He knew right there what he was doing.
"You like it, tall one."
"Huh?"
"You been staring all this time," Fernando laughed. "Well, stop it. If you want it, just say it. But take off your shirt."
Ed did as he was told, and started feeling stupid. Wasn't he supposed to be the one who would fuck the kid? Wasn't he supposed to be in some kind of control?
Fernando had taken his wifebeater off as well and was kicking his shoes off so he could slide his jeans away.
"You don't like me, Edwin? Any other would be naked now."
The older man was barefoot, so he just had to take off his jeans and underwear--after all, he'd been comfortable in his hotel room, no need to be overdressed. Meanwhile, Fernando was letting his jeans slide down to the floor, tracing his legs, slowly...
He wasn't wearing underwear.
Ed swallowed. Dirk had been right. Fernando Torres was a whore.
The Spanish boy had to actually stand on tiptoe to kiss the tall goalkepper.
"You like me better now, Edwin?"
Next thing the Dutchman knew, Fernando was on his knees, placing his dick in his mouth.
Edwin gasped out loud. The boy certainly knew how to please another man. His tongue traveled around his head, teasing at the slit, his head bobbing up and down, his hands helping at the base and sometimes finding his balls.
"Fuck... I think this bet was worth it... kid..."
"Call me Nando," the striker answered, letting go of the Dutch cock for a moment--Ed didn't have time to answer, for, right away, the boy deep-throated him.
Ed shuddered when his shaft touched the back of Fernando's throat and started to leak. The striker didn't even gag. He was good. He was so fucking good...
The boy pulled away then, taking a deep breath. Edwin moaned--he actually missed the warmth of that mouth, but a hand on his leg reassured him.
"You cannot come yet. You are missing bed."
True, the goalkeeper thought, as he saw Fernando getting to his feet and laying on the bed, spreadeagled, his fingers traveling slowly to his entrance, as if trying to show Ed the way.
"You like me like this or you want me to get on fours?"
"What? No, no, it's ok," Ed answered, staring at Nando's hole as if he had been a peep show.
C'mon. How hard was it to get a cock into a hole?
"You seem to like but not to fuck," came the boy's voice from the bed.
"No, of course..."
OK. He didn't want to hurt Nando--though he looked experienced. What could he do?
He remembered Ruud. Back then, when they were together and the younger Dutchman wanted Ed to feel real good.
Nando laughed when he felt the Dutchman's head between his thighs.
"What you... uh."
Edwin had once gotten a rim job from Ruud, and, once he had been real wet, the other Dutchman had slid his cock into him.
And now it was his moment to see what he had learned--and it seemed Edwin was doing real good. Fernando moaned and writhed on the bed as Ed's tongue explored around his entrance, feeling it swell against his tongue, tasting it, delving deep...
"Me gusta... está muy bien..." Nando was now dirty-talking in Spanish.
"Huh?"
"I like it..." Fernando translated. "Keep on going..."
However, Ed didn't want his hard-on to explode--so, he stopped his ministrations, stood up, the boy's legs hooked around his waist, and started sliding it slowly inside Nando's opening, still a little worried about whether he was doing it correctly--
"Fuck you're big," Nando sighed, his body arching at the contact. "Keep on doing it..."
Very well. So the kid liked it...
Edwin kept on pushing until he was buried to the hilt, and he felt Fernando relax under him.
...Now what?
"You tease," the protesting voice rang out. "Don't make me wait. Move."
OK...
Ed then started thrusting, in and out, in and out, surprised at how easily his cock moved. Nando was open, yes, but his warmth felt good around his shaft, the friction nice, making him throb until he hit something that made Nando scream out something in Spanish.
"Dame... dame fuerte... Edwin..."
"That is..."
"Harder..." the boy moaned. "Come on. Harder."
That, Ed understood. Now he hung on tightly to Nando's thighs and started fucking him fiercely, reveling on the sensation, feeling himself so deep inside the boy, the sensuality of a tightness around his cock--and all the times he hit that sweet spot, making Fernando arch up to him, dig his small nails on his back and chest.
"Yes, Edwin, yes..." he said, before he started working on his own cock.
Ed was getting closer to climax, so his thrusts were now frenzied, even aggressive--but Fernando didn't seem to mind, one of his hands holding Ed tightly, the other rubbing his shaft faster and faster each time, his mouth pressing nibbles and kisses to the older man's chest.
Finally, both of them came--Fernando showered Ed's chest when he shot his seed, and the goalkeeper came deep into the striker...
The sensation was new for Ed. And it felt good. Real good.
They just stayed there for a while, Nando slumped against Ed's chest, breathing heavily, listening to the older man's quickened heartbeat. Ed pulled out after a while, his dick already soft, and then sat down next to the boy.
"That was a good bet," he said after a while.
"I liked it too," the young striker admitted.
There were some minutes of silence. Ed didn't know what else to say to the boy--just that he had really liked it. It had been just a fuck, but a great fuck. However, he didn't have to think that much, for then Nando stood up and started getting dressed.
"You're good," Ed blurted out all of a sudden.
"That they say."
"Who says?"
"Liverpool and the Spanish national team," Nando winked.
"Wha-- you fuck all of them?"
"Not all," Fernando rolled his eyes. "Not Puyol, for example. He don't like this--and good, for he is ugly. Not Piqué--he fucks Zlatan. And not Villa because he is an idiot. He one day got into my room and said 'I'm the best. Fuck me.' Never gonna fuck one like that. And his small beard--so not stylish."
"You little whore then."
Ed immediately regretted saying it--but the kid's reaction was unexpected. He just laughed.
"I'm no whore, Ed. I don't charge. I just like doing it. Sex is nice." He then walked on to the goalie and kissed his cheek. "See you."
Contrary to what he had thought, Edwin was in a very, very good mood when Nando left, memories of his arse still around his cock, of his young, lean body giving in to him.
So, when he saw Rio on the hotel hallways, he didn't even flinch.
"Ed, matey," it was the defender who spoke. "Are ya still angry? Tell me ya're not, Ed. In fact, why don't we go to my room right now?"
Edwin suddenly felt the urge of asking whether Berba would be there, and how willing he was to be involved in a threesome--was the Bulgarian as easy as it seemed? But he stopped.
"Don't worry, Rio," the Dutchman blinked. "I'm not angry. In fact, I think you should go tend Berba some more. He's the hero of the match, he deserves it."
He tried not to laugh when he felt Rio's eyes glued to his back.
Next thing Ed knew about Nando, he had gone to Chelsea. In fact, Dirk had spent an entire phone call complaining about what a whiny bitch the striker had been.
Edwin watched the Chelsea-Liverpool game, where Nando debuted, and, when the Blues lost, he actually called him.
"Not doing too well, right, Nando?"
"Shut up, tall boy. Next date you. And we gonna win."
"Wanna bet?"
"Bet your ass."
"Done." Ed smiled as he hung up, already looking forward to his night of sex.
But, of course, nothing went as planned.
The ref was lousy. Next thing the Devils knew, a handball by JT had been forgiven and Lamps had scored a penalty kick.
The game was going down and Ed knew it. So, when he saw Fernando coming at him with a ball, he immediately blocked the striker... and almost crashed into him.
It all ended with a small, almost accidental hug--or so it seemed. For no one noticed the way the boy's hand rested on Ed's back.
Sure enough. Time for payback.
Now it was Edwin the one who showed up at the hotel where Nando was staying; and, as soon as he knocked on the door, the boy opened it. He was only wearing jeans, and his freckled face shone with anticipation.
"You said it."
"Yeah," Ed had to smile in spite of himself. "Next time, remind me not to bet."
"Too late. Undress."
Bossy kid, Ed thought, doing as he was told. Standing in front of him, Nando was already naked, and stroking his hard-on.
"You gotta show me. I don't know how to put cock in ass. I always been bottom."
"It's like with a girl," Ed said, forgetting some days ago he'd also been nervous and uneasy.
"I know that. However, you must tell me what feels good. And I don't wanna suck your ass like you did to me. I suck cock but not ass."
"OK," Edwin answered then, getting on the bed and putting himself on all fours.
"You wanna be fucked like that?" Nando asked.
"It will be easier for you," the goalkeeper explained.
He felt now Nando's eyes fixed on his arse, as his had been.
"Do you mind if I use fingers on you?"
"Only if you have lube."
"OK!" the boy answered brightly--he then came back with a bottle of liquid soap from the hotel. "Swear it won't itch. Used it before."
Ed tried hard not to giggle.
"Now, you know what to do."
"Yes."
Nando placed some soap on his fingers and started inserting them into Ed--he seemed rather insecure at first, but, when he saw one digit entered without effort, and then a second one, the striker immediately took a hold of Ed's hips and started entering him.
"You're open."
Ed rolled his eyes. Nando entering him felt good, but, mind you, he was used to thicker cocks (Ruud) or longer ones (Rio).
"Yes."
"You bitch!" Fernando laughed brightly.
"Yeah!" Ed said and turned over his shoulder. "And I've had bigger cocks, little whore! So, if you want to please me, you'd better--fuck!"
The boy had not waited for Ed to finish his speech--he just buried himself deep into the goalkeeper, perhaps trying to contradict him, perhaps not knowing what to do. However, he wasn't half-bad, Ed thought. His cock was a nice fit, the movement was good, maybe if he--
Oh yeah. Fernando had found his half-hard, neglected cock. Now the night was complete.
The kid came quick--all his excitement exploded with his climax. However, he didn't leave Ed by himself, and stroke the older man's cock till he came as well.
It ended with Nando slumped on top of him, his hands slowly tracing his broad back. Suddenly, the boy pressed a kiss to his hair, crawling upwards a little more.
"Huh?" Ed had suddenly remembered the "no feelings" thing. However...
"Nothing. Just happy," was the answer. "I like fucking with you, Edwin. I like when you put your cock in my ass. And I like putting my cock in your ass too."
Ed chuckled--he moved so they were lying side by side, and stroked the boy's arms lazily.
"I like fucking with you too."
"I'm a whore, you are a bitch," Fernando added, laughing out loud.
"Oh, stop it."
"Only if you put your cock into my--mmph."
That weekend, Manchester United lost against Liverpool. Ed was in his room, angry at himself, staring at the ceiling, when he got a call--and he had to smile in spite of himself.
"Nando. What the fuck do you want, little whore?"
"You lost. You need to get cock in ass."
"You're not in bloody Liverpool anymore. That's not legal."
"You fucked me when I was in Liverpool. So it's legal."
"You arsehole."
"You bitch. Come here, I know you want cock in ass."
"Stop saying 'cock in ass'."
"Only if you come here."
Ed hung up--but some moments later he was up from bed, and closing the door behind him.
He had a pending bet.
The End.
Pairing: Edwin van der Sar/Fernando Torres. Oh yeah. Several others mentioned just for fun.
Disclaimer: Never, ever, ever, ever happened. As I have said, JUST FOR FUN.
Summary: Ed decides to try... something new.
Special thanks: aka_centimetre2 , as always! Hope you enjoy it though you don't like Nando!
According to Ed, it all started when he found Rio rolling in the bed with asshole Berba (more literally that he would have wanted to admit) in his hotel room. He had left afterwards, wondering what had happened now; once again what he had thought was a relationship seemed over. Though, when Rio went looking for him next morning at training, he assured the Dutchman it was not so.
"'Ere, matey, not what you think."
"Tell me what it is, then," Edwin was obviously not convinced.
Rio scratched his head.
"C'mon, matey. Don' tell me you don' feel like experimentin' with some other arse ev'ry now n' then."
Eh, no, Ed had thought, but then, during the series of ball-stopping, he found himself thinking about what Rio had said.
And it made no sense. He didn't experiment with arses. It was his arse the one that was... well, used.
He had been "bottom" since Ajax, where he was considered the young and consequently curious newcomer. Then had come Juve, where the Italians had been too macho to be "receivers"--though Alex del Piero was getting it up the arse from Cannavaro, but he would not admit it, so he fucked Ed too. Then he had gone on to England, finally gotten to ManU, and met Ruud. And he had liked it, being fucked by him, falling in love with him... Until Ruud fucked Cris and he hadn't known what to think.
"Edwin, Ed," Ruud had said then, trying to apologize. "It was only a fuck. It has nothing to do with us. I want to be with you... Ed."
However, distance had done the rest. Ruud had gone to Madrid, and he became a long-distance sex buddy, with whom he talked on the phone frequently but only fucked on internationals--and now that he had retired from internationals, he wasn't sure if he could be considered that.
He had started fucking Rio by then--the swarthy defender was a little rough around the edges, but he always seemed to be looking for physical contact during games, such as a pat, a hug or something. Then the contact had increased, and Ed had liked it, the feeling of the crazy, foul-mouthed Rio being someone different on bed; yes, rough--kinky sex was always on the menu--but caring. His Rio. But now it seemed Rio was no longer his.
Ed would have liked to talk about it with some of the guys. After all, were good friends. But he couldn't get himself to do it because of the peculiar sexual situations. Wayne, for example, had shifted from fucking Michael Carrick to fucking Darren--who was fucking Carrick too, but that didn't seem to matter. Vida, for his part, had gone from forward Nani back to defense and was now bedding Chris Smalling. And the younger guys, Chicha, Bebé, Fabio... well, Ed knew they liked him, they considered him a legend, but they weren't aware of many things that happened behind closed doors in the hotel, and telling them would be the best way to get them running out of there.
And no, he sure as hell was not going to call Ruud. Ruud, of all people, to discuss his... boyfriend? fucking another man. Not Ruud to talk about what he had equally done.
That was why he ended up videocalling another Dutchman, forgetting they were going to meet on the Sunday match.
Dirk Kuyt and the others from Liverpool were getting a drink in a pub, pre-game, to get their spirits up; yet, when Dirk's phone rang and he saw it was Edwin, he went to the gents' room, wondering what the goalkeeper would want. Why was Ed calling him, if they were going to meet on Sunday?
"Trying to scare the boys before the game, huh?" Dirk said as a greeting.
"Actually, I was just calling you so you could answer a poll," Ed answered. "Dirk, do you like experimenting on other arses?"
"What???"
"That was what Rio told me," the goalkeeper sighed. "I saw him fucking Dimitar Berbatov earlier this morning."
"Oh. Sorry, Edwin. Are you ok?"
"Yeah, I'm not looking for a shoulder to cry on." Edwin van der Sar, always keeping his cool. "In fact, I just wanted to ask for relationship advice. Dirk, you've been with Rafa for as long as I can remember. How do you do it?"
"Do what, Ed?"
The goalkeeper was silent for a moment, but then said: "How do you know he is not fucking any other guy?"
His question was greeted by a laugh.
"Oh, Van der Sar! Of course Rafa has fucked many other guys. He was in Real, remember? And Real is another name for whorehouse. He's been quieter now that he's here at Tottenham, but fucking... man, he's had his nice share."
"And.. you still date him?" Ed felt really confused now.
"Of course. It's not like I'm an angel either."
"You fuck other guys too?"
"Of course!" Dirk laughed again. "It's permitted, as long as you don't break the rules."
"Oh, so there are rules now?" Edwin van der Sar was feeling like a teenage girl pining for a boy right now, and that was... annoying, to say the least. And Dirk, who was younger than him, was lecturing him. Lame.
"Yes," the other Dutchman went on. "A fuck is a fuck. That's all. No feeling involved, because love is for Rafa. You fuck the guy, both are happy, you can go home now, just friends. Getting feelings involved is the problem, but if you don't, it's ok."
"And that's what happens with Rafa and you."
"Yes. And we have such a good time. Mind you, some guys here at Liverpool are such... well, whores. Daniel Agger for instance. Or Fernando Torres..."
"Hey, Dirk, you talking about me? Who is on your phone screen?" that was the very same Nando, who had just entered the bathroom, asking questions in his badly-spoken English... and who had craned his head to see the screen before Dirk could shield it away.
"Hey... that is Edwin from Manchester! What are you doing, Dirk? Giving him clues to beat us?"
"Shut up Nando, this is business--"
"Hey Edwin!" Well, it seemed the boy was really drunk, Ed thought, as he pushed Dirk aside and reached for his phone. "Kiss my ass!"
"Polite kid, huh?" the goalkeeper said, calmly.
"You gonna lose the match!" Fernando was insisting. "Wanna bet with me? I bet. Anything."
"Anything?" Edwin asked then.
"Anything. Because you gonna lose."
Ed then saw, at the corner of the screen, Dirk's face, giving him a knowing look... and god, Ed knew that look. He immediately caught his friend's plan... though he tried to hide his embarrassment when he said:
"Liverpool loses, I want to fuck you."
Fernando laughed out loud.
"Ha! And if we win?"
Ed again tried to keep his cool. "You fuck me, then."
Another laugh. "You just want cock, tall one. Because we gonna win!"
Edwin looked once again at his friend, who discreetly gave him the thumbs up.
He only hoped it had been a good idea.
And, just his luck, the game had been a perfect one for the Red Devils. Dimitar Berbatov (even Ed had to admit it) had played wonderfully, actually achieving a hattrick, giving no chance to Liverpool.
So, when the final whistle rang, Ed knew it was time for his bet...
He walked on to Fernando, and whispered his hotel room number--he could have sworn the boy smiled brightly.
Later that evening, Edwin was lying on his bed, feeling slightly nervous--and surprised about that.
He wasn't thinking perhaps Fernando would not come. He knew the boy would actually be true to the bet--that was what made him nervous.
At the first knock on the door, Ed got up and opened the door.
Sure enough, Fernando was there, his longish, half-fair hair falling all over his freckled face, a half-coy, half-naughty smile on his mouth.
Dirk had said something about the boy once, and Ed would see he was right. The striker was so pretty, he could have been a girl.
"You gonna let me come in?"
"Sure, sure. Sorry." Ed moved aside so Fernando could go in and sit down at the bed, leaving his light jacket by his side. Now Edwin could see the striker's slender arms, the tattoos on them. He was wearing a black wifebeater with jeans: it almost looked as if the arms he always hid underneath his favored long-sleeved kit were being shown off now. To the goalkeeper.
Then, the younger man stretched lazily--his wifebeater traveled upwards a little, and Edwin could see the striker's lean hips, holding his low jeans in place.
A fucking tease. He knew right there what he was doing.
"You like it, tall one."
"Huh?"
"You been staring all this time," Fernando laughed. "Well, stop it. If you want it, just say it. But take off your shirt."
Ed did as he was told, and started feeling stupid. Wasn't he supposed to be the one who would fuck the kid? Wasn't he supposed to be in some kind of control?
Fernando had taken his wifebeater off as well and was kicking his shoes off so he could slide his jeans away.
"You don't like me, Edwin? Any other would be naked now."
The older man was barefoot, so he just had to take off his jeans and underwear--after all, he'd been comfortable in his hotel room, no need to be overdressed. Meanwhile, Fernando was letting his jeans slide down to the floor, tracing his legs, slowly...
He wasn't wearing underwear.
Ed swallowed. Dirk had been right. Fernando Torres was a whore.
The Spanish boy had to actually stand on tiptoe to kiss the tall goalkepper.
"You like me better now, Edwin?"
Next thing the Dutchman knew, Fernando was on his knees, placing his dick in his mouth.
Edwin gasped out loud. The boy certainly knew how to please another man. His tongue traveled around his head, teasing at the slit, his head bobbing up and down, his hands helping at the base and sometimes finding his balls.
"Fuck... I think this bet was worth it... kid..."
"Call me Nando," the striker answered, letting go of the Dutch cock for a moment--Ed didn't have time to answer, for, right away, the boy deep-throated him.
Ed shuddered when his shaft touched the back of Fernando's throat and started to leak. The striker didn't even gag. He was good. He was so fucking good...
The boy pulled away then, taking a deep breath. Edwin moaned--he actually missed the warmth of that mouth, but a hand on his leg reassured him.
"You cannot come yet. You are missing bed."
True, the goalkeeper thought, as he saw Fernando getting to his feet and laying on the bed, spreadeagled, his fingers traveling slowly to his entrance, as if trying to show Ed the way.
"You like me like this or you want me to get on fours?"
"What? No, no, it's ok," Ed answered, staring at Nando's hole as if he had been a peep show.
C'mon. How hard was it to get a cock into a hole?
"You seem to like but not to fuck," came the boy's voice from the bed.
"No, of course..."
OK. He didn't want to hurt Nando--though he looked experienced. What could he do?
He remembered Ruud. Back then, when they were together and the younger Dutchman wanted Ed to feel real good.
Nando laughed when he felt the Dutchman's head between his thighs.
"What you... uh."
Edwin had once gotten a rim job from Ruud, and, once he had been real wet, the other Dutchman had slid his cock into him.
And now it was his moment to see what he had learned--and it seemed Edwin was doing real good. Fernando moaned and writhed on the bed as Ed's tongue explored around his entrance, feeling it swell against his tongue, tasting it, delving deep...
"Me gusta... está muy bien..." Nando was now dirty-talking in Spanish.
"Huh?"
"I like it..." Fernando translated. "Keep on going..."
However, Ed didn't want his hard-on to explode--so, he stopped his ministrations, stood up, the boy's legs hooked around his waist, and started sliding it slowly inside Nando's opening, still a little worried about whether he was doing it correctly--
"Fuck you're big," Nando sighed, his body arching at the contact. "Keep on doing it..."
Very well. So the kid liked it...
Edwin kept on pushing until he was buried to the hilt, and he felt Fernando relax under him.
...Now what?
"You tease," the protesting voice rang out. "Don't make me wait. Move."
OK...
Ed then started thrusting, in and out, in and out, surprised at how easily his cock moved. Nando was open, yes, but his warmth felt good around his shaft, the friction nice, making him throb until he hit something that made Nando scream out something in Spanish.
"Dame... dame fuerte... Edwin..."
"That is..."
"Harder..." the boy moaned. "Come on. Harder."
That, Ed understood. Now he hung on tightly to Nando's thighs and started fucking him fiercely, reveling on the sensation, feeling himself so deep inside the boy, the sensuality of a tightness around his cock--and all the times he hit that sweet spot, making Fernando arch up to him, dig his small nails on his back and chest.
"Yes, Edwin, yes..." he said, before he started working on his own cock.
Ed was getting closer to climax, so his thrusts were now frenzied, even aggressive--but Fernando didn't seem to mind, one of his hands holding Ed tightly, the other rubbing his shaft faster and faster each time, his mouth pressing nibbles and kisses to the older man's chest.
Finally, both of them came--Fernando showered Ed's chest when he shot his seed, and the goalkeeper came deep into the striker...
The sensation was new for Ed. And it felt good. Real good.
They just stayed there for a while, Nando slumped against Ed's chest, breathing heavily, listening to the older man's quickened heartbeat. Ed pulled out after a while, his dick already soft, and then sat down next to the boy.
"That was a good bet," he said after a while.
"I liked it too," the young striker admitted.
There were some minutes of silence. Ed didn't know what else to say to the boy--just that he had really liked it. It had been just a fuck, but a great fuck. However, he didn't have to think that much, for then Nando stood up and started getting dressed.
"You're good," Ed blurted out all of a sudden.
"That they say."
"Who says?"
"Liverpool and the Spanish national team," Nando winked.
"Wha-- you fuck all of them?"
"Not all," Fernando rolled his eyes. "Not Puyol, for example. He don't like this--and good, for he is ugly. Not Piqué--he fucks Zlatan. And not Villa because he is an idiot. He one day got into my room and said 'I'm the best. Fuck me.' Never gonna fuck one like that. And his small beard--so not stylish."
"You little whore then."
Ed immediately regretted saying it--but the kid's reaction was unexpected. He just laughed.
"I'm no whore, Ed. I don't charge. I just like doing it. Sex is nice." He then walked on to the goalie and kissed his cheek. "See you."
Contrary to what he had thought, Edwin was in a very, very good mood when Nando left, memories of his arse still around his cock, of his young, lean body giving in to him.
So, when he saw Rio on the hotel hallways, he didn't even flinch.
"Ed, matey," it was the defender who spoke. "Are ya still angry? Tell me ya're not, Ed. In fact, why don't we go to my room right now?"
Edwin suddenly felt the urge of asking whether Berba would be there, and how willing he was to be involved in a threesome--was the Bulgarian as easy as it seemed? But he stopped.
"Don't worry, Rio," the Dutchman blinked. "I'm not angry. In fact, I think you should go tend Berba some more. He's the hero of the match, he deserves it."
He tried not to laugh when he felt Rio's eyes glued to his back.
Next thing Ed knew about Nando, he had gone to Chelsea. In fact, Dirk had spent an entire phone call complaining about what a whiny bitch the striker had been.
Edwin watched the Chelsea-Liverpool game, where Nando debuted, and, when the Blues lost, he actually called him.
"Not doing too well, right, Nando?"
"Shut up, tall boy. Next date you. And we gonna win."
"Wanna bet?"
"Bet your ass."
"Done." Ed smiled as he hung up, already looking forward to his night of sex.
But, of course, nothing went as planned.
The ref was lousy. Next thing the Devils knew, a handball by JT had been forgiven and Lamps had scored a penalty kick.
The game was going down and Ed knew it. So, when he saw Fernando coming at him with a ball, he immediately blocked the striker... and almost crashed into him.
It all ended with a small, almost accidental hug--or so it seemed. For no one noticed the way the boy's hand rested on Ed's back.
Sure enough. Time for payback.
Now it was Edwin the one who showed up at the hotel where Nando was staying; and, as soon as he knocked on the door, the boy opened it. He was only wearing jeans, and his freckled face shone with anticipation.
"You said it."
"Yeah," Ed had to smile in spite of himself. "Next time, remind me not to bet."
"Too late. Undress."
Bossy kid, Ed thought, doing as he was told. Standing in front of him, Nando was already naked, and stroking his hard-on.
"You gotta show me. I don't know how to put cock in ass. I always been bottom."
"It's like with a girl," Ed said, forgetting some days ago he'd also been nervous and uneasy.
"I know that. However, you must tell me what feels good. And I don't wanna suck your ass like you did to me. I suck cock but not ass."
"OK," Edwin answered then, getting on the bed and putting himself on all fours.
"You wanna be fucked like that?" Nando asked.
"It will be easier for you," the goalkeeper explained.
He felt now Nando's eyes fixed on his arse, as his had been.
"Do you mind if I use fingers on you?"
"Only if you have lube."
"OK!" the boy answered brightly--he then came back with a bottle of liquid soap from the hotel. "Swear it won't itch. Used it before."
Ed tried hard not to giggle.
"Now, you know what to do."
"Yes."
Nando placed some soap on his fingers and started inserting them into Ed--he seemed rather insecure at first, but, when he saw one digit entered without effort, and then a second one, the striker immediately took a hold of Ed's hips and started entering him.
"You're open."
Ed rolled his eyes. Nando entering him felt good, but, mind you, he was used to thicker cocks (Ruud) or longer ones (Rio).
"Yes."
"You bitch!" Fernando laughed brightly.
"Yeah!" Ed said and turned over his shoulder. "And I've had bigger cocks, little whore! So, if you want to please me, you'd better--fuck!"
The boy had not waited for Ed to finish his speech--he just buried himself deep into the goalkeeper, perhaps trying to contradict him, perhaps not knowing what to do. However, he wasn't half-bad, Ed thought. His cock was a nice fit, the movement was good, maybe if he--
Oh yeah. Fernando had found his half-hard, neglected cock. Now the night was complete.
The kid came quick--all his excitement exploded with his climax. However, he didn't leave Ed by himself, and stroke the older man's cock till he came as well.
It ended with Nando slumped on top of him, his hands slowly tracing his broad back. Suddenly, the boy pressed a kiss to his hair, crawling upwards a little more.
"Huh?" Ed had suddenly remembered the "no feelings" thing. However...
"Nothing. Just happy," was the answer. "I like fucking with you, Edwin. I like when you put your cock in my ass. And I like putting my cock in your ass too."
Ed chuckled--he moved so they were lying side by side, and stroked the boy's arms lazily.
"I like fucking with you too."
"I'm a whore, you are a bitch," Fernando added, laughing out loud.
"Oh, stop it."
"Only if you put your cock into my--mmph."
That weekend, Manchester United lost against Liverpool. Ed was in his room, angry at himself, staring at the ceiling, when he got a call--and he had to smile in spite of himself.
"Nando. What the fuck do you want, little whore?"
"You lost. You need to get cock in ass."
"You're not in bloody Liverpool anymore. That's not legal."
"You fucked me when I was in Liverpool. So it's legal."
"You arsehole."
"You bitch. Come here, I know you want cock in ass."
"Stop saying 'cock in ass'."
"Only if you come here."
Ed hung up--but some moments later he was up from bed, and closing the door behind him.
He had a pending bet.
The End.