Spain v Italy
Title : Spain v Italy (Fourth Quarter final)
Author: dalehead
Pairing : Orlibean with special guest appearances
Rating : NC-18
Summary : Football … and sex!
Disclaimer: This is entirely made up
WARNING : There are non work safe photos beneath the cut guys!
Author’s Note : This is for doylebaby
“This is such a bad idea,” Ian led the way around the back of the house.
“Not you as well,” Karl chuckled. “Even you seem to be taking this competition seriously and England aren’t even playing for fuck’s sake.”
“Sean is still watching it,” of this Harry was sure. “I mean, it’s football, like he’d ever miss it, though god knows how Orlando puts up with it. If Ian behaved like that,” he paused delicately.
“I am the very model of a model boy, as you very well know,” Ian replied tartly.
“Awww Ian …” Karl pinched his lover’s very fine backside. “What do you do with a watch?”
“You wind it up and you shouldn’t wind me up, I’m an old man.”
“Old man you?” Harry snorted. “Now enough of the clever chat, I want to get on with some serious to god voyeurism.”
“Will Orlando be pissed when he finds us?” Karl wondered aloud.
“Not him, it would be a huge case of the pot calling the kettle black.” Ian remembered very vividly Orlando and Sean holding score cards up when they’d come across an impromptu fuck fest. “He’ll be more worried that he won’t have done his blessed hair.”
Orlando’s hair was a legend in its own lifetime.
“It’s gonna go to penalties, god this is pants,” Orlando was not best pleased.
“Yep,” Sean wasn’t either. This had promised to be the match of all matches.
The game never touched the heights and penalties were an almost inevitable outcome given the approach of both sides.
“How long have we got?” Orlando wondered aloud.
“About an hour before it gets exciting,” Sean geustimated.
“In which case …” Orlando was smiling. “I’ve got a new toy… a cock and ball pillory…”
Meanwhile, outside, Ian had stripped off and was watching in awe as Sean slowly undressed. As he was unaware there were three pairs of eyes watching him hungrily, he used no artifice, slowly revealing his golden naked glory to his audience, pausing to watch the TV, remark on the stupidity of this or that shot or to scratch himself.
“You’re gonna look gorgeous,” Orlando locked his boy in, leaving him painfully aware of how vulnerable he was.
“If it goes to penalties…” Sean gasped.
“When it does, I promise I will release you and I promise you your orgasm after or even during the match.”
Satisfied, Sean relaxed into the vicious machine that held his balls in a vice that almost took his breath away. The cuffs around his ankles felt good, he didn’t even notice when Orlando turned the sound right down so the match was just a background murmur.
“I want one of those,” Ian hissed at Harry as Orlando locked Sean into something that looked vaguely like a medieval torture instrument. “Harry … Karl,” his hand rested on his cock as Orlando picked up a well used tawse.
“Oh god, that boy is good,” Harry murmured to Karl. “They’re both good,” he paused to undo his jeans. “Ian get my cock out and suck it…”
“I’ll miss …” Ian stopped when he felt Karl’s hand on the back of his neck.
“Are you arguing with your Master,” Karl couldn’t manage to sound as cruel as Elijah, in truth very few people could but he did pretty well and Ian meekly leant forward to release Harry’s cock then take it in his mouth.
“Great back hand,” Harry barely acknowledged Ian’s mouth, indeed, he ignored his own boy in favour of watching Sean taking lash after lash, his skin beginning to glow. “God he takes it so well,” he wished he could film this.
Meanwhile Sean was blissfully unaware of everything except the red hot pain of the tawse and the way his balls were being gripped. He was moaning softly, muttering gibberish and completely oblivious to the football he had so slavishly followed for the past couple of weeks.
“He is beautiful,” Karl smiled as he felt Harry’s hand on his cock. He nudged his lover. “But our boy has a far more magnificent appendage don’t you think?” he made it his business to ensure that Ian never felt less than he was, that he always knew how much he was loved and appreciated, however much they teased him.
“Oh our own boy is far more beautiful.” Harry grinned. “Get off my cock baby, you can watch for a while then I’m going to fuck you into Karl, how does that sound?”
“Perfect,” Ian murmured, winding his arms around Karl’s waist and leaning against his belly.
“Master…” Sean’s voice was strangled, he felt like he was about to explode, his cock was more than painfully hard, he was in agony and the kiss of the tawse only made him more desperate. “Please Master … please …”
“Hush boy,” Orlando paused as something caught his eye. “There’s not long to go then we’ll watch the penalties but you’re going to watch them with my cock in your arse, god I need to fuck you,” Sean got him every single time. There was something about him like this, all needy and in pain and wanting more, always wanting more.
“You know Orlando’s not exactly small,” Karl paused, kissing Harry slow and deep. “Not in Ian’s league but he’s must pack quite a punch, you know?” he undid his jeans. He wanted Ian’s big cock inside him; he wanted Harry to control them both.
“Very few men are as big as our beautiful Ian,” this was Ian’s cue to get into position and wait for Karl who could easily support both his lovers long enough to enjoy a good fuck.
“Seems like Orlando’s in synch with us,” murmured Harry as he watched Karl undressing before getting onto all fours. “Are you both prepped?”
“Yes Sir,” they answered in unison.
“Little fuckers,” Orlando had finally noticed their audience. He unlocked Sean who collapsed onto the floor. “Get up boy, we’re being watched,” he turned the sound up on the match as the players got themselves ready for their own climax.
As Orlando slid into Sean’s taut body, Ian’s cock pushed its way into Karl and Harry into Ian. Although none of them realised they were all in perfect harmony.
One by one, the Spanish goals destroyed Italy’s chances of making it through to the final as soft moans became louder groans. Orlando was intent on coming, he could hear the others, he would recognise the sound Karl made just before he came almost anywhere. He reached a hand round and begun to fist Sean’s swollen cock.
“Now,” he felt Sean’s orgasm coming almost before the word was out and as Casillas saved the day for Spain, Orlando came too, crying out loudly.
Finally it was Arsenal’s own Cesc Fabregas who stepped up and put all those Spanish nightmares to rest as first Harry, then Ian and finally Karl came … one by one … the sexual equivalent of the domino affect.
Spain 0-0 Italy (4-2 on penalties)
Author: dalehead
Pairing : Orlibean with special guest appearances
Rating : NC-18
Summary : Football … and sex!
Disclaimer: This is entirely made up
WARNING : There are non work safe photos beneath the cut guys!
Author’s Note : This is for doylebaby
“This is such a bad idea,” Ian led the way around the back of the house.
“Not you as well,” Karl chuckled. “Even you seem to be taking this competition seriously and England aren’t even playing for fuck’s sake.”
“Sean is still watching it,” of this Harry was sure. “I mean, it’s football, like he’d ever miss it, though god knows how Orlando puts up with it. If Ian behaved like that,” he paused delicately.
“I am the very model of a model boy, as you very well know,” Ian replied tartly.
“Awww Ian …” Karl pinched his lover’s very fine backside. “What do you do with a watch?”
“You wind it up and you shouldn’t wind me up, I’m an old man.”
“Old man you?” Harry snorted. “Now enough of the clever chat, I want to get on with some serious to god voyeurism.”
“Will Orlando be pissed when he finds us?” Karl wondered aloud.
“Not him, it would be a huge case of the pot calling the kettle black.” Ian remembered very vividly Orlando and Sean holding score cards up when they’d come across an impromptu fuck fest. “He’ll be more worried that he won’t have done his blessed hair.”
Orlando’s hair was a legend in its own lifetime.
“It’s gonna go to penalties, god this is pants,” Orlando was not best pleased.
“Yep,” Sean wasn’t either. This had promised to be the match of all matches.
The game never touched the heights and penalties were an almost inevitable outcome given the approach of both sides.
“How long have we got?” Orlando wondered aloud.
“About an hour before it gets exciting,” Sean geustimated.
“In which case …” Orlando was smiling. “I’ve got a new toy… a cock and ball pillory…”
Meanwhile, outside, Ian had stripped off and was watching in awe as Sean slowly undressed. As he was unaware there were three pairs of eyes watching him hungrily, he used no artifice, slowly revealing his golden naked glory to his audience, pausing to watch the TV, remark on the stupidity of this or that shot or to scratch himself.
“You’re gonna look gorgeous,” Orlando locked his boy in, leaving him painfully aware of how vulnerable he was.
“If it goes to penalties…” Sean gasped.
“When it does, I promise I will release you and I promise you your orgasm after or even during the match.”
Satisfied, Sean relaxed into the vicious machine that held his balls in a vice that almost took his breath away. The cuffs around his ankles felt good, he didn’t even notice when Orlando turned the sound right down so the match was just a background murmur.
“I want one of those,” Ian hissed at Harry as Orlando locked Sean into something that looked vaguely like a medieval torture instrument. “Harry … Karl,” his hand rested on his cock as Orlando picked up a well used tawse.
“Oh god, that boy is good,” Harry murmured to Karl. “They’re both good,” he paused to undo his jeans. “Ian get my cock out and suck it…”
“I’ll miss …” Ian stopped when he felt Karl’s hand on the back of his neck.
“Are you arguing with your Master,” Karl couldn’t manage to sound as cruel as Elijah, in truth very few people could but he did pretty well and Ian meekly leant forward to release Harry’s cock then take it in his mouth.
“Great back hand,” Harry barely acknowledged Ian’s mouth, indeed, he ignored his own boy in favour of watching Sean taking lash after lash, his skin beginning to glow. “God he takes it so well,” he wished he could film this.
Meanwhile Sean was blissfully unaware of everything except the red hot pain of the tawse and the way his balls were being gripped. He was moaning softly, muttering gibberish and completely oblivious to the football he had so slavishly followed for the past couple of weeks.
“He is beautiful,” Karl smiled as he felt Harry’s hand on his cock. He nudged his lover. “But our boy has a far more magnificent appendage don’t you think?” he made it his business to ensure that Ian never felt less than he was, that he always knew how much he was loved and appreciated, however much they teased him.
“Oh our own boy is far more beautiful.” Harry grinned. “Get off my cock baby, you can watch for a while then I’m going to fuck you into Karl, how does that sound?”
“Perfect,” Ian murmured, winding his arms around Karl’s waist and leaning against his belly.
“Master…” Sean’s voice was strangled, he felt like he was about to explode, his cock was more than painfully hard, he was in agony and the kiss of the tawse only made him more desperate. “Please Master … please …”
“Hush boy,” Orlando paused as something caught his eye. “There’s not long to go then we’ll watch the penalties but you’re going to watch them with my cock in your arse, god I need to fuck you,” Sean got him every single time. There was something about him like this, all needy and in pain and wanting more, always wanting more.
“You know Orlando’s not exactly small,” Karl paused, kissing Harry slow and deep. “Not in Ian’s league but he’s must pack quite a punch, you know?” he undid his jeans. He wanted Ian’s big cock inside him; he wanted Harry to control them both.
“Very few men are as big as our beautiful Ian,” this was Ian’s cue to get into position and wait for Karl who could easily support both his lovers long enough to enjoy a good fuck.
“Seems like Orlando’s in synch with us,” murmured Harry as he watched Karl undressing before getting onto all fours. “Are you both prepped?”
“Yes Sir,” they answered in unison.
“Little fuckers,” Orlando had finally noticed their audience. He unlocked Sean who collapsed onto the floor. “Get up boy, we’re being watched,” he turned the sound up on the match as the players got themselves ready for their own climax.
As Orlando slid into Sean’s taut body, Ian’s cock pushed its way into Karl and Harry into Ian. Although none of them realised they were all in perfect harmony.
One by one, the Spanish goals destroyed Italy’s chances of making it through to the final as soft moans became louder groans. Orlando was intent on coming, he could hear the others, he would recognise the sound Karl made just before he came almost anywhere. He reached a hand round and begun to fist Sean’s swollen cock.
“Now,” he felt Sean’s orgasm coming almost before the word was out and as Casillas saved the day for Spain, Orlando came too, crying out loudly.
Finally it was Arsenal’s own Cesc Fabregas who stepped up and put all those Spanish nightmares to rest as first Harry, then Ian and finally Karl came … one by one … the sexual equivalent of the domino affect.
Spain 0-0 Italy (4-2 on penalties)