Spin it round again (Part 1)
Rating: M. This is very very dirty.
Pairings: Multiple.
Disclaimer: Definitely a fantasy of mine and rdjfan4614. And by the way, it's her Xmas gift. Promise it will be complete soon!
Summary: The Manchester United lads play a very drunken Spin the Bottle game.
"So... who wants to play Spin the Bottle?"
That was Berba. Again. He'd wanted to play since the party started, and everyone, at first, had thought it was too soon. Then, they were too busy drinking. Now they were too drunk and happy to say no.
And, anyways, it was a good time to play. The boys had been celebrating for a successful new footy season. They were all there: even Ed, who had agreed to go and say some cheerful words to the newbies, such as Phil Jones: but mainly to David de Gea, his successor.
It had all ended in a merry gathering with a merry bunch.
Merry… and drunken bunch.
“C’mon,” Berba insisted. “Spin the bottle makes us get to know each other better.”
“This is like a middle school party,” Ed laughed with Rio as they sat down.
Chicharito and Roo sat together. The Mexican kid had become a good friend of the striker, and they liked to be together, so it was no surprise. Berba sat next to Wayne, followed by his other companion at the front of the pitch, Michael Owen. Ryan was next-the guys were surprised he’d wanted to play, but there he was.
Turning the bunch into a circle, Ed sat next to his successor, David. The other four defenders went next: Nemanja, Rio, Jonny Evans and the newbie, Phil Jones, closing the circle.
“Ok!” Dimitar said merrily, when he saw all of them were ready. “Let’s start. Allow the honor to the captain.”
Vida laughed as he took the empty bottle of Scotch and spun it. God, it was so silly…
The bottle pointed to Chicha.
“Well,” the Serbian laughed. “You know this game, right? Truth or dare?”
Chicharito laughed too. Of course he knew that game. He’d played it before. Yet, it had been in parties, with girls, not with boys, his new teammates, and…
“Truth,” he ended up saying.
“Ok!” the Serbian laughed. “I know you new, but answer. You get horny watching someone at the shower?”
Chicha blushed brightly. He felt his cheeks were burning, and knew that even if he had lied, the blush gave him away. Vida was chuckling already.
“Yes,” the Mexican finally said it.
“Who?” Vida wanted to know.
“No! Not fair Vida, only one question,” Berba shook his head and stretched his hand for the bottle.
“But I want know.”
“You can ask him later,” the Bulgarian said, handing the bottle to Chicha. “Your turn.”
The Mexican kid spun the bottle, watching it land on David.
“More newbies!” Rio had started giggling hysterically.
Chicharito watched David. He had blushed just from watching the bottle pointing at him.
“Truth or dare, David?”
“Do I have to say if I get horny in the shower too?”
“It doesn’t have to be the same question…” Chicha soothed, but Roo intervened.
“If ‘e doesn’ wan’ answer, then it’s dare.”
“What dare?”
“Aw, let the kissin’ begin, ya’ll know ya wanna!” Rio had had perhaps one too many glasses of Scotch.
Chicha shrugged. That was what those games did, all the time.
“Your dare is to kiss someone, if you take it.”
More blushing from the goalkeeper.
“A glass of vodka will help this!” No one had noticed when Berba had gotten up, but there he was, placing a glass with the liquor just before the Spanish boy.
“Come on. Drink it. One gulp.”
“Is that my dare?”
“No. You still have to choose.”
David took a sip.
“Ok. Dare.”
“Kiss som’un’!” Rio yelled.
“Yeah, do,” Chicha had asked for a vodka glass too.
“Can it be a small kiss?”
“Just kiss, already,” Vida insisted.
David got up, slowly. His skinny figure seemed at a loss of where to go-but, finally, he ended up kneeling near Phil Jones.
“Sorry, Phil,” the Spanish boy said, before placing a peck on the lips of the blonde defender.
Phil, however, just looked at the goalie as if with curiosity, while, around him, the guys exploded into drunken cheers. “Fin’ly!” Rio yelled, and everyone laughed.
“Oh shut up,” David said, smiling, though the blush was still there. “At least I’m out of the way, and it’s my turn now!”
“Enjoy it, youngster,” Ed said then, trying hard to keep a straight face, as the experienced and mature goalkeeper, but eventually he ended up laughing as well.
The Spanish boy spun the bottle, and it pointed to…
“Dimitar!” David clapped. “Well, you got me into this mess. Now I will get you in one.”
“Try,” the Bulgarian smiled provocatively.
“Well, truth or dare?”
“Dare. I no chicken.”
“Strip.”
The striker’s bright eyes opened wide.
“Ohhhh. You dirty bastard, David. I am sure you have been thinking all this time about seeing the Berba naked, huh?”
Jonny whistled, and Vida laughed out loud.
“You shut up. You not that sexy. Can I cover my eyes?”
“Oh, do not try to hide the fact you attracted to me,” Dimi was standing up, but then he stopped. “What? No stripping song? DJ!”
Everybody was laughing so hard they couldn’t get up, but it was Michael who eventually managed to get on his feet and walked to the stereo set nearby.
“Those m’vinyls. Ya do sumthin’ ta them, ya die,” Rio, the owner of the house, threatened, though he was still laughing.
“Shut up,” the striker retorted. “Don’t ya ‘ave sumthin’ fit fer a stripper ‘ere-‘uh, Joe Cocker. This will work.”
Michael placed the needle on the record as well as a drunken man could, and, right away, “You Can Leave Your Hat On” started playing.
“Oh yeah, that’s what I talking about!” Berba started working on the buttons of his shirt, and dancing, gyrating his hips as he removed his clothing. “Now watch me. I know you want me, you babes.”
“You wish!” Vida yelled-Dimi’s shirt landed on his face. Now the Bulgarian was half-naked, his sculpted torso exposed.
You give me a reason to live, Joe Cocker was singing.
Jonny let out another piercing whistle when Dimitar stopped his sensual movements in order to remove his fashionable black loafers in a somewhat clumsy way. “Not sexy!”
“Oh yeah?” The Berba’s response was almost a feverish whisper, as he started unbuckling his belt.
“Whut ya gon’do wit’ that, Berbs?” Roo asked.
“Look here, baby.”
Then, the Bulgarian placed his belt between his legs, and started rubbing it against the crotch of his jeans.
“Nice, huh? Ni-ce. Who wants it? Roo?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Dimi just threw his belt to Wayne, who gingerly put it aside, while Chicha almost doubled over with laughter.
Meanwhile, Dimitar was unzipping his fly, letting his jeans slide down, revealing his briefs and his strong legs.
“Ok babes. Here comes the full monty-“
“No shit!” Wayne yelled, yet again. “We’ve seen enough, right boys?”
“Don’t know; what does the boy of the dare say?” Giggs, polite even in a situation like this, turned to face David, who was still looking at the Bulgarian half-amused, half thinking he still didn’t know how could the Berba just have taken his dare that easily.
“I think that’s enough,” the Spanish kid finally answered, and Berba, who had his thumbs stuck under the waistband of his briefs, sat down, pouting. “Boo. You no fun.”
“Just spin the bottle already!” Phil exclaimed.
The Bulgarian did, not paying attention to the fact Michael was stretching his legs-the bottle bumped against the Englishman’s knee, and ended up stuck there, pointing at Giggs.
“Is that legal?” Jonny raised an eyebrow.
“If Ryan here’s ok with it, I guess it’s fine,” Ed looked at the midfielder, who just smiled.
“Of course I am. Shoot, already.”
“Truth or dare, Giggsy?” Berba asked then.
“Truth. Whut, do ya think I’m racy like ya? I’m a gentleman, see.”
The Bulgarian’s eyes lit up.
“In that case… there’s something I’ve been wondering for months.”
“What?” Giggs held that clear stare.
Dimi’s smile became broader.
“That game. I was at bench. You were there too. You said you were looking for Gary, but I could feel stare. You were looking at me, all time.”
Ryan said nothing.
“So…” Dimitar’s eyes narrowed. “The truth is… Giggsy, why were you looking at me?”
For a second, the merry meeting was quiet. Everybody was looking at the Welshman and at Dimi. The question had suddenly become… very interesting.
“…Ryan?” Berba said.
Nobody expected the reaction.
Giggs almost flung himself on top of Michael, who was sitting between Dimitar and him; and, in one swift movement, he had his hand on the back of the Bulgarian’s head, and pulled him towards his face, placing a furious kiss on Dimi’s lips.
“Oh my fuckin’ gawd,” Rio’s filthy mouth reacted first.
Dimitar seemed taken by surprise at first, but, after a moment, he closed his eyes and parted his lips so Ryan’s tongue could slide inside his mouth.
And everyone saw it.
“Oh shit,” Vida expressed his opinion.
“Tongues and all,” Chicha’s eyes were wide.
Michael had to stand up-the kissing couple were almost falling on top of him, Giggs pulling Dimi even closer to his body, his hands wandering over the other man’s naked chest… over his nipples, that stood up when they came in contact with the Welshman’s fingers, and then his hands were traveling to the underpants David had asked Berba not to take off, while the Bulgarian’s hands skated underneath Ryan’s tee…
“Fer fuck’s sake, get a room!” Rio had gotten up, gone to a chair, and grabbed a cushion-which he threw on the couple. It landed right on Berba’s head.
“Wha? What happen?” the Bulgarian said, looking around, confused.
“Ya stop it n’ keep n’ playin’. Seriously, we don’ wan’ see ya both ‘avin’ sex ‘ere. N’ I don’ wan’ ya ta stain me floor.”
“Ya know ya’re only pretending ya don’t want ta see us,” Giggsy winked, but still he let Dimi go and motioned to Michael, who was standing up, to sit. The striker, however, looked doubtful…
“Oh, please, don’t be afraid, Mr. Owen,” the Welshman insisted, taking the bottle and spinning it. Michael finally agreed to sit down then, but the bottle hit his legs once again and it changed course, until the neck finally pointed to… Roo.
“Aw fuck ya, Mike. Ya shouldn’ be standin’ up,” the striker half-laughed, half-complained.
“Don’t be a chicken, Waz.”
“Ya ‘nly say that ‘cause ya and yer boy Dimi got no shame.”
Giggs laughed back.
“What? Ya gonna back outta the game?”
“’Course not,” Wayne winked. “In fact, I wanna dare. C’mon.”
“Very well. I’ll pull no punches. Roo, a lapdance.”
Even with his daring attitude, everyone saw the star striker turn red as a beet.
“Oh Giggsy. Ya’re no gentleman.”
“And ya’re a chicken. Go on already.”
As the boys roared, Wayne stood up, looking at the bunch.
“Any guy, or I pick?”
“I trust ya ‘ave a choice,” Giggs winked.
Roo looked around.
“Well, I ‘ave sum’un who won’ push me away and will never wanna ‘ear from me again…”
Chicha was laughing so hard his eyes were closed, but he opened them just to see Wayne’s jeans’ crotch before him.
“’Ello Javier. Ya’re the chosen ‘un.”
“Oh...” was all the Mexican kid was able to say, before Roo grabbed his shoulders for support and slowly, teasingly, lowered his hips so his clothed arse could brush the Mexican kid’s lap.
“Well, baaaaabe, shake it!” That was Berba, laughing uncontrollably at the sight, as Roo picked up some imaginary beat (the Joe Cocker vinyl no one had bothered to stop was playing a ballad) and then started swaying and circling his hips like an expert, his jeans traveling to Chicha’s legs and back up again, to his face, and then back down…
Javier, for his part, had started out giggling, but eventually his laughs had become nervous. And man, he was blushing.
He averted his eyes from Roo’s dancing figure for a moment, only to meet Phil Jones’ blue eyes. He didn’t know why he was looking at Phil: perhaps he thought another newbie would feel uncomfortable with the show. But no-the blonde defender looked at him too, and smiled, as if saying: “You’re blushing.”
“Ya don’ like me? Ya don’ wan’ more?” Roo said then, calling the kid’s attention back to him-and then removed his shirt. “This will work.”
“Stop it!” Giggsy laughed. “I asked fer a lapdance, not the complete service. Ya’re done.”
“Aw, ya see? Got more scared than Chicha and I wasn’t even dancin’ ta ya!” Wayne laughed, and sat down, not bothering to put his shirt back on. Meanwhile, Javier took another drink from his glass and laughed…
While he shifted, discreetly but uncomfortably, on his spot.
His jeans were a little loose, but yet…
He didn’t want anyone to spot the huge hard-on he had.
However, all the eyes were fixed on Roo, who spun the bottle. Its trajectory was uninterrupted, and when it stopped spinning it pointed towards…
“Silen’ Jonny Evans.”
The baby-faced defender lost his smile and turned red as well.
“Ya’ll ‘ave ta talk now, Jonny,” Wayne grinned. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Jonny immediately answered. He really, really, didn’t want to dance.
“Ok. I’ll keep it simple. Jonny, swallow or spit?”
Now Jonny was crimson.
“What?”
“What’s swallow or spit?” David asked Nemanja, and the Serbian started laughing.
“C’mon Jonny,” Wayne went on. “We all know ya like ta suck. So, just say it. Swallow or spit?”
Evans bit his lip, but finally said:
“Depends.”
“Uh?” Wayne cocked an eyebrow, and this time nobody said anything about being two questions.
“I want another beer,” Chicha said, getting up quickly.
“Ya’ll miss the answer! Javier!” Rio exclaimed, but the striker quickly went away-and sneaked into the bathroom, just next to the kitchen.
He knew what swallow or spit was. And, actually, that had affected his mind.
He couldn’t take the lapdance away from his mind. Wayne’s crotch in front of his mouth.
And that question…
Meanwhile, the game was still on.
“If I like the guy…” Jonny went on. “If I don’t like him I spit… If I like him I swallow…”
“Good reasoning,” Michael nodded. “I think you can spin now.”
Everyone could hear the relieved sigh Jonny gave as he took the bottle and spun. It slid slowly to the empty space where Chicha had been and ended in a perfectly vertical position towards…
“Edwin.”
The goalkeeper smiled that infectious smile of his.
“Truth or dare?” Jonny asked.
“Truth,” the Dutchman answered, without even flinching.
However, then Jonny stopped. His mind was blank. He couldn’t really think of a truth or a dare-and, anyways, now it seemed as if the respect he held for the legendary goalkeeper was preventing him of having any dirty thought.
Right then, Chicha returned from the bathroom, with a beer in his hand, so they wouldn’t ask him anything.
I think that was the fastest wank of my life…
He stopped, without sitting, at the circle. Everybody was quiet.
“What’s up?”
“Jonny ‘ere can’t think of a question,” Rio complained and drank some more beer. “C’mon, Evans!”
“Who has the biggest ball?” the defender suddenly blurted out. David looked confused again; however, Edwin only laughed.
“The biggest ball I have ever seen?”
“Well, yes,” Jonny nodded.
The goalkeeper thought for a moment.
“Well, if this is about confessing, I must say mate Rio here has got a nice pair of them.”
“Aw fuck!” Rio let out a hysterical laugh. “Ya’ve seen me, ya dirty ol’ bastard?”
“At the shower!” Edwin was laughing again. “Well, you and Mr Nemanja, at your right. Let’s say, our defenders here are a ballsy pair.”
“You said it!” the Serbian answered, not a bit embarrassed, and Ed, without even flinching, went on:
“Another nice pair of balls… well, Ruud. I’m sorry, mates, but Van Nistelrooy is right there with you…”
“Ya only say that ‘cause ya fucked ‘im-“ Rio started to complain, but they were interrupted by what looked like Jonny’s very confused squeak.
“You’re actually talking about… cocks.”
“Why, yes,” Ed shrugged. “That was the truth, wasn’t it?”
“Well…” Jonny swallowed, but went on. “Actually, I was a bit confused when thinking about a question, because I thought I was being disrespectful to you, Ed… so when I said ‘ball’, I meant an actual ball.”
Ed’s small blue eyes opened wide.
“You meant… I could have talked about a ball I saw at some sports store?”
“Well, yes,” Evans scratched his head.
“And I just went with the flow and now everybody knows what I think about their dicks?” Ed’s voice rose, something that didn’t happen that much, even at games.
“Oh yeah!” Phil couldn’t hold back the exclamation, and he almost rolled over on the floor, while Ed lowered his head and laughed, though a little bit uncomfortably.
“In that case, I think my dare’s ready!” he said, when he stopped laughing. “Can I spin now, guys?”
“Oh yeah, go ahead!” Berba chuckled, as the goalkeeper took the bottle.
“Well, well…” he said when it stopped. “I guess you should stop laughing, Mr. Jones.”
The blonde didn’t stop laughing, but his laughs were more nervous.
“Truth or dare?”
“Dare. I’m a brave man.”
The guys knew that was true-they’d seen him on the pitch. Yet, now they would see how brave he was at a truth or dare party.
“Ok. Then… close your eyes and don’t open them.”
“Aw fuck-“ the defender whispered, but he had to do so.
“Very good…” Edwin nearly chuckled. “Now, you’ll lick three things. You must guess what they are. Don’t open your eyes. The guys will bring some things.”
Phil didn’t seem very convinced, but complied. Berba kept watch to make sure the kid didn’t cheat; meanwhile, Ed sat next to David and said:
“Take your shirt off.”
“What?”
“Do it. Or would you want to take your pants off?”
When he heard that, David took his tee off. The dare was ready.
Chicha then stood up and put his cold beer bottle in front of the momentarily blind Phil.
“Go ahead then,” Ed announced. “Lick.”
The defender stuck out his tongue and licked the side of the beer bottle.
“Cold and wet,” he said. “That seemed safe.”
Michael, who had gone looking for something to use on the dare (and had come back with a plushie) had other thing in his hand.
“Look at this guys!” he whispered. “It’s a pole! We can set it somewhere and get someone to pole dance! Rio, where you’d get that-“
“Aw, shut up n’ ‘urry,” the filthy mouthed defender answered, before taking the plushie and putting it in front of Phil’s face.
“Lick again,” Ed ordered.
Phil did as he was told-and let out a squeak.
“What the-this better not be any groin!” he shouted.
“We’re not that hairy!” Berba was rolling on the floor with laughter.
“OK,” Ed said, trying not to laugh. “Here comes the third thing.”
He beckoned at David to come closer. The boy did as he was told-
He blushed madly again when Rio pushed the blonde’s face close to his chest-to his left nipple.
“Lick now.”
Phil’s tongue made David’s nub erect. The young goalie shivered. Fuck. Phil’s tongue felt lovely against his skin.
Immediately, he wished he could have more…
“Ok,” Ed whispered. “Put your shirt back on, David. Thanks.”
The Spaniard went back to his place and picked up his shirt. Now he didn’t feel like putting it back on…
“Very well, Phil!” Ed cheerfully said. “Now, before you open your eyes, guess what they are!”
“The first one…” the defender started. “Cold and wet. Seemed like a cold bottle.”
“Yes!” Chicha immediately nodded.
“Second one?”
Phil made a face of disgust.
“Furry. It better not have been a dustball.”
“Close,” Michael rubbed the plushie against the boy’s face. “It was just some stuffed animal.”
“Oh. Good,” the boy seemed genuinely relieved.
“And now,” Ed smiled. “The third one.”
“It was hot and a bit hard against my tongue. It felt like skin. I think it was…” Phil hesitated, but went on. “A nipple.”
“Yes!” Open your eyes now!” Ed greatly said.
Phil opened his eyes and looked at the circle. Only Roo and Berba were shirtless.
“I… I think I licked the Berba.”
“I won’t tell,” the Bulgarian winked. The defender sat down: he looked just a teeny bit disappointed.
“What’s up? It’s a party! Spin!” Rio said.
Phil did. The bottle pointed to one of the guys in front of him.
“Michael Owen.”
“Ok…” the striker said. “My turn then.”
“Truth or dare?”
“I don’t know if you’ll have imagination left after what has been going on. Dare,” Michael said, sounding very sure of himself.
“Then touch someone else’s cock,” Phil Jones said, without even stopping to think.
Now that made the striker blink.
“Wha-just like that?”
“Well, yes,” the young defender nodded.
Michael looked around. He seemed reluctant.
“Do I have to choose…”
“If you don’t want to, I could choose for you,” Phil suggested.
The other man thought for a moment.
“Ok, do,” he finally swallowed.
“Why don’t we undress Berba?” the younger man concluded after a while. “He’s only in his underwear, after all.”
Giggs nodded. Even his lust seemed controlled. The Bulgarian was the one who laughed.
“Oh sure. You dirty. You wanted this all along.”
“Shut up and undress,” Phil took a drink from his lager. “Let’s make this quick.”
Dimi stood up and just pulled his boxers down a bit, letting them slide down his legs. Even if the room was quiet, he could feel Giggsy’s eyes taking note of every one of his moves.
“Ya’re small, Berba!” Rio’s noisy laughter rang out.
“Fuck you,” the Bulgarian flipped the finger at Rio and then sat down.
“Well, Mike?”
The Golden Boy looked up, down, and then to Berba’s cock, which waited for him. He didn’t seem very convinced with Phil’s choice.
“C’mon, Mike!” Wayne roared.
Michael stretched his hand and placed it on Berba’s limp shaft. He could swear Giggs had let in a violent breath as he curled his fingers around the length.
Everybody was looking at the scene, except for Evans, who seemed a little uncomfortable with the situation and eventually averted his eyes.
“…is my dare over?” the striker asked after a while.
“Yes. You touched him, it’s over,” Phil nodded, and Michael let go of Dimi’s shaft. Besides him, the other small gasp Giggsy let out was almost noticeable, and the striker thought whether the Welshman would or would not have something growing inside his jeans.
“OK. My turn now,” Michael finally said, and spun the bottle, until it landed on…
“Mr. Ferdinand.”
Rio chuckled.
“Truth or dare?”
“Truth. I’m a man wit’ a word o’ gold.”
“Yeah, right, if you mean the bad golden words you say!” Chicha said merrily.
“Aw my mouth’s sacred!” the defender answered.
“Well, spit out this sacred truth. Rio, you’ve been in these United showers a long time. Says who has the longest penis.”
Rio’s raucous laughter filled the room. In fact, even though the guys started laughing along with him, after a moment they thought the fit should be stopped.
“C’mon, Ferdy! Wut’s so funny? The size of yer penis, must be!” Wayne exclaimed.
Rio finally stopped laughing and looked at everyone, his eyes rakishly twinkling.
“Wut’s funny is that ya asked that question. People, the longest penis’s mine.”
Complaints and laughs of disbelief rang out.
“You liar, Rio!” was the first remark, and Nemanja was the one who said it.
“No! Rio! That’s not fair!” Michael shook his head, but the defender laughed some more.
“Ya asked it, I tol’ the truth, Golden Boy.”
“Oh, yeah, then mine’s the winner-“
“Uh, uh, uh, ya wanted truth, I tol’ya the truth. Now le’s go. Vida, yer turn.”
“What? Why me? You didn’t even spin bottle!” the Serbian complained.
To be continued...
Pairings: Multiple.
Disclaimer: Definitely a fantasy of mine and rdjfan4614. And by the way, it's her Xmas gift. Promise it will be complete soon!
Summary: The Manchester United lads play a very drunken Spin the Bottle game.
"So... who wants to play Spin the Bottle?"
That was Berba. Again. He'd wanted to play since the party started, and everyone, at first, had thought it was too soon. Then, they were too busy drinking. Now they were too drunk and happy to say no.
And, anyways, it was a good time to play. The boys had been celebrating for a successful new footy season. They were all there: even Ed, who had agreed to go and say some cheerful words to the newbies, such as Phil Jones: but mainly to David de Gea, his successor.
It had all ended in a merry gathering with a merry bunch.
Merry… and drunken bunch.
“C’mon,” Berba insisted. “Spin the bottle makes us get to know each other better.”
“This is like a middle school party,” Ed laughed with Rio as they sat down.
Chicharito and Roo sat together. The Mexican kid had become a good friend of the striker, and they liked to be together, so it was no surprise. Berba sat next to Wayne, followed by his other companion at the front of the pitch, Michael Owen. Ryan was next-the guys were surprised he’d wanted to play, but there he was.
Turning the bunch into a circle, Ed sat next to his successor, David. The other four defenders went next: Nemanja, Rio, Jonny Evans and the newbie, Phil Jones, closing the circle.
“Ok!” Dimitar said merrily, when he saw all of them were ready. “Let’s start. Allow the honor to the captain.”
Vida laughed as he took the empty bottle of Scotch and spun it. God, it was so silly…
The bottle pointed to Chicha.
“Well,” the Serbian laughed. “You know this game, right? Truth or dare?”
Chicharito laughed too. Of course he knew that game. He’d played it before. Yet, it had been in parties, with girls, not with boys, his new teammates, and…
“Truth,” he ended up saying.
“Ok!” the Serbian laughed. “I know you new, but answer. You get horny watching someone at the shower?”
Chicha blushed brightly. He felt his cheeks were burning, and knew that even if he had lied, the blush gave him away. Vida was chuckling already.
“Yes,” the Mexican finally said it.
“Who?” Vida wanted to know.
“No! Not fair Vida, only one question,” Berba shook his head and stretched his hand for the bottle.
“But I want know.”
“You can ask him later,” the Bulgarian said, handing the bottle to Chicha. “Your turn.”
The Mexican kid spun the bottle, watching it land on David.
“More newbies!” Rio had started giggling hysterically.
Chicharito watched David. He had blushed just from watching the bottle pointing at him.
“Truth or dare, David?”
“Do I have to say if I get horny in the shower too?”
“It doesn’t have to be the same question…” Chicha soothed, but Roo intervened.
“If ‘e doesn’ wan’ answer, then it’s dare.”
“What dare?”
“Aw, let the kissin’ begin, ya’ll know ya wanna!” Rio had had perhaps one too many glasses of Scotch.
Chicha shrugged. That was what those games did, all the time.
“Your dare is to kiss someone, if you take it.”
More blushing from the goalkeeper.
“A glass of vodka will help this!” No one had noticed when Berba had gotten up, but there he was, placing a glass with the liquor just before the Spanish boy.
“Come on. Drink it. One gulp.”
“Is that my dare?”
“No. You still have to choose.”
David took a sip.
“Ok. Dare.”
“Kiss som’un’!” Rio yelled.
“Yeah, do,” Chicha had asked for a vodka glass too.
“Can it be a small kiss?”
“Just kiss, already,” Vida insisted.
David got up, slowly. His skinny figure seemed at a loss of where to go-but, finally, he ended up kneeling near Phil Jones.
“Sorry, Phil,” the Spanish boy said, before placing a peck on the lips of the blonde defender.
Phil, however, just looked at the goalie as if with curiosity, while, around him, the guys exploded into drunken cheers. “Fin’ly!” Rio yelled, and everyone laughed.
“Oh shut up,” David said, smiling, though the blush was still there. “At least I’m out of the way, and it’s my turn now!”
“Enjoy it, youngster,” Ed said then, trying hard to keep a straight face, as the experienced and mature goalkeeper, but eventually he ended up laughing as well.
The Spanish boy spun the bottle, and it pointed to…
“Dimitar!” David clapped. “Well, you got me into this mess. Now I will get you in one.”
“Try,” the Bulgarian smiled provocatively.
“Well, truth or dare?”
“Dare. I no chicken.”
“Strip.”
The striker’s bright eyes opened wide.
“Ohhhh. You dirty bastard, David. I am sure you have been thinking all this time about seeing the Berba naked, huh?”
Jonny whistled, and Vida laughed out loud.
“You shut up. You not that sexy. Can I cover my eyes?”
“Oh, do not try to hide the fact you attracted to me,” Dimi was standing up, but then he stopped. “What? No stripping song? DJ!”
Everybody was laughing so hard they couldn’t get up, but it was Michael who eventually managed to get on his feet and walked to the stereo set nearby.
“Those m’vinyls. Ya do sumthin’ ta them, ya die,” Rio, the owner of the house, threatened, though he was still laughing.
“Shut up,” the striker retorted. “Don’t ya ‘ave sumthin’ fit fer a stripper ‘ere-‘uh, Joe Cocker. This will work.”
Michael placed the needle on the record as well as a drunken man could, and, right away, “You Can Leave Your Hat On” started playing.
“Oh yeah, that’s what I talking about!” Berba started working on the buttons of his shirt, and dancing, gyrating his hips as he removed his clothing. “Now watch me. I know you want me, you babes.”
“You wish!” Vida yelled-Dimi’s shirt landed on his face. Now the Bulgarian was half-naked, his sculpted torso exposed.
You give me a reason to live, Joe Cocker was singing.
Jonny let out another piercing whistle when Dimitar stopped his sensual movements in order to remove his fashionable black loafers in a somewhat clumsy way. “Not sexy!”
“Oh yeah?” The Berba’s response was almost a feverish whisper, as he started unbuckling his belt.
“Whut ya gon’do wit’ that, Berbs?” Roo asked.
“Look here, baby.”
Then, the Bulgarian placed his belt between his legs, and started rubbing it against the crotch of his jeans.
“Nice, huh? Ni-ce. Who wants it? Roo?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Dimi just threw his belt to Wayne, who gingerly put it aside, while Chicha almost doubled over with laughter.
Meanwhile, Dimitar was unzipping his fly, letting his jeans slide down, revealing his briefs and his strong legs.
“Ok babes. Here comes the full monty-“
“No shit!” Wayne yelled, yet again. “We’ve seen enough, right boys?”
“Don’t know; what does the boy of the dare say?” Giggs, polite even in a situation like this, turned to face David, who was still looking at the Bulgarian half-amused, half thinking he still didn’t know how could the Berba just have taken his dare that easily.
“I think that’s enough,” the Spanish kid finally answered, and Berba, who had his thumbs stuck under the waistband of his briefs, sat down, pouting. “Boo. You no fun.”
“Just spin the bottle already!” Phil exclaimed.
The Bulgarian did, not paying attention to the fact Michael was stretching his legs-the bottle bumped against the Englishman’s knee, and ended up stuck there, pointing at Giggs.
“Is that legal?” Jonny raised an eyebrow.
“If Ryan here’s ok with it, I guess it’s fine,” Ed looked at the midfielder, who just smiled.
“Of course I am. Shoot, already.”
“Truth or dare, Giggsy?” Berba asked then.
“Truth. Whut, do ya think I’m racy like ya? I’m a gentleman, see.”
The Bulgarian’s eyes lit up.
“In that case… there’s something I’ve been wondering for months.”
“What?” Giggs held that clear stare.
Dimi’s smile became broader.
“That game. I was at bench. You were there too. You said you were looking for Gary, but I could feel stare. You were looking at me, all time.”
Ryan said nothing.
“So…” Dimitar’s eyes narrowed. “The truth is… Giggsy, why were you looking at me?”
For a second, the merry meeting was quiet. Everybody was looking at the Welshman and at Dimi. The question had suddenly become… very interesting.
“…Ryan?” Berba said.
Nobody expected the reaction.
Giggs almost flung himself on top of Michael, who was sitting between Dimitar and him; and, in one swift movement, he had his hand on the back of the Bulgarian’s head, and pulled him towards his face, placing a furious kiss on Dimi’s lips.
“Oh my fuckin’ gawd,” Rio’s filthy mouth reacted first.
Dimitar seemed taken by surprise at first, but, after a moment, he closed his eyes and parted his lips so Ryan’s tongue could slide inside his mouth.
And everyone saw it.
“Oh shit,” Vida expressed his opinion.
“Tongues and all,” Chicha’s eyes were wide.
Michael had to stand up-the kissing couple were almost falling on top of him, Giggs pulling Dimi even closer to his body, his hands wandering over the other man’s naked chest… over his nipples, that stood up when they came in contact with the Welshman’s fingers, and then his hands were traveling to the underpants David had asked Berba not to take off, while the Bulgarian’s hands skated underneath Ryan’s tee…
“Fer fuck’s sake, get a room!” Rio had gotten up, gone to a chair, and grabbed a cushion-which he threw on the couple. It landed right on Berba’s head.
“Wha? What happen?” the Bulgarian said, looking around, confused.
“Ya stop it n’ keep n’ playin’. Seriously, we don’ wan’ see ya both ‘avin’ sex ‘ere. N’ I don’ wan’ ya ta stain me floor.”
“Ya know ya’re only pretending ya don’t want ta see us,” Giggsy winked, but still he let Dimi go and motioned to Michael, who was standing up, to sit. The striker, however, looked doubtful…
“Oh, please, don’t be afraid, Mr. Owen,” the Welshman insisted, taking the bottle and spinning it. Michael finally agreed to sit down then, but the bottle hit his legs once again and it changed course, until the neck finally pointed to… Roo.
“Aw fuck ya, Mike. Ya shouldn’ be standin’ up,” the striker half-laughed, half-complained.
“Don’t be a chicken, Waz.”
“Ya ‘nly say that ‘cause ya and yer boy Dimi got no shame.”
Giggs laughed back.
“What? Ya gonna back outta the game?”
“’Course not,” Wayne winked. “In fact, I wanna dare. C’mon.”
“Very well. I’ll pull no punches. Roo, a lapdance.”
Even with his daring attitude, everyone saw the star striker turn red as a beet.
“Oh Giggsy. Ya’re no gentleman.”
“And ya’re a chicken. Go on already.”
As the boys roared, Wayne stood up, looking at the bunch.
“Any guy, or I pick?”
“I trust ya ‘ave a choice,” Giggs winked.
Roo looked around.
“Well, I ‘ave sum’un who won’ push me away and will never wanna ‘ear from me again…”
Chicha was laughing so hard his eyes were closed, but he opened them just to see Wayne’s jeans’ crotch before him.
“’Ello Javier. Ya’re the chosen ‘un.”
“Oh...” was all the Mexican kid was able to say, before Roo grabbed his shoulders for support and slowly, teasingly, lowered his hips so his clothed arse could brush the Mexican kid’s lap.
“Well, baaaaabe, shake it!” That was Berba, laughing uncontrollably at the sight, as Roo picked up some imaginary beat (the Joe Cocker vinyl no one had bothered to stop was playing a ballad) and then started swaying and circling his hips like an expert, his jeans traveling to Chicha’s legs and back up again, to his face, and then back down…
Javier, for his part, had started out giggling, but eventually his laughs had become nervous. And man, he was blushing.
He averted his eyes from Roo’s dancing figure for a moment, only to meet Phil Jones’ blue eyes. He didn’t know why he was looking at Phil: perhaps he thought another newbie would feel uncomfortable with the show. But no-the blonde defender looked at him too, and smiled, as if saying: “You’re blushing.”
“Ya don’ like me? Ya don’ wan’ more?” Roo said then, calling the kid’s attention back to him-and then removed his shirt. “This will work.”
“Stop it!” Giggsy laughed. “I asked fer a lapdance, not the complete service. Ya’re done.”
“Aw, ya see? Got more scared than Chicha and I wasn’t even dancin’ ta ya!” Wayne laughed, and sat down, not bothering to put his shirt back on. Meanwhile, Javier took another drink from his glass and laughed…
While he shifted, discreetly but uncomfortably, on his spot.
His jeans were a little loose, but yet…
He didn’t want anyone to spot the huge hard-on he had.
However, all the eyes were fixed on Roo, who spun the bottle. Its trajectory was uninterrupted, and when it stopped spinning it pointed towards…
“Silen’ Jonny Evans.”
The baby-faced defender lost his smile and turned red as well.
“Ya’ll ‘ave ta talk now, Jonny,” Wayne grinned. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Jonny immediately answered. He really, really, didn’t want to dance.
“Ok. I’ll keep it simple. Jonny, swallow or spit?”
Now Jonny was crimson.
“What?”
“What’s swallow or spit?” David asked Nemanja, and the Serbian started laughing.
“C’mon Jonny,” Wayne went on. “We all know ya like ta suck. So, just say it. Swallow or spit?”
Evans bit his lip, but finally said:
“Depends.”
“Uh?” Wayne cocked an eyebrow, and this time nobody said anything about being two questions.
“I want another beer,” Chicha said, getting up quickly.
“Ya’ll miss the answer! Javier!” Rio exclaimed, but the striker quickly went away-and sneaked into the bathroom, just next to the kitchen.
He knew what swallow or spit was. And, actually, that had affected his mind.
He couldn’t take the lapdance away from his mind. Wayne’s crotch in front of his mouth.
And that question…
Meanwhile, the game was still on.
“If I like the guy…” Jonny went on. “If I don’t like him I spit… If I like him I swallow…”
“Good reasoning,” Michael nodded. “I think you can spin now.”
Everyone could hear the relieved sigh Jonny gave as he took the bottle and spun. It slid slowly to the empty space where Chicha had been and ended in a perfectly vertical position towards…
“Edwin.”
The goalkeeper smiled that infectious smile of his.
“Truth or dare?” Jonny asked.
“Truth,” the Dutchman answered, without even flinching.
However, then Jonny stopped. His mind was blank. He couldn’t really think of a truth or a dare-and, anyways, now it seemed as if the respect he held for the legendary goalkeeper was preventing him of having any dirty thought.
Right then, Chicha returned from the bathroom, with a beer in his hand, so they wouldn’t ask him anything.
I think that was the fastest wank of my life…
He stopped, without sitting, at the circle. Everybody was quiet.
“What’s up?”
“Jonny ‘ere can’t think of a question,” Rio complained and drank some more beer. “C’mon, Evans!”
“Who has the biggest ball?” the defender suddenly blurted out. David looked confused again; however, Edwin only laughed.
“The biggest ball I have ever seen?”
“Well, yes,” Jonny nodded.
The goalkeeper thought for a moment.
“Well, if this is about confessing, I must say mate Rio here has got a nice pair of them.”
“Aw fuck!” Rio let out a hysterical laugh. “Ya’ve seen me, ya dirty ol’ bastard?”
“At the shower!” Edwin was laughing again. “Well, you and Mr Nemanja, at your right. Let’s say, our defenders here are a ballsy pair.”
“You said it!” the Serbian answered, not a bit embarrassed, and Ed, without even flinching, went on:
“Another nice pair of balls… well, Ruud. I’m sorry, mates, but Van Nistelrooy is right there with you…”
“Ya only say that ‘cause ya fucked ‘im-“ Rio started to complain, but they were interrupted by what looked like Jonny’s very confused squeak.
“You’re actually talking about… cocks.”
“Why, yes,” Ed shrugged. “That was the truth, wasn’t it?”
“Well…” Jonny swallowed, but went on. “Actually, I was a bit confused when thinking about a question, because I thought I was being disrespectful to you, Ed… so when I said ‘ball’, I meant an actual ball.”
Ed’s small blue eyes opened wide.
“You meant… I could have talked about a ball I saw at some sports store?”
“Well, yes,” Evans scratched his head.
“And I just went with the flow and now everybody knows what I think about their dicks?” Ed’s voice rose, something that didn’t happen that much, even at games.
“Oh yeah!” Phil couldn’t hold back the exclamation, and he almost rolled over on the floor, while Ed lowered his head and laughed, though a little bit uncomfortably.
“In that case, I think my dare’s ready!” he said, when he stopped laughing. “Can I spin now, guys?”
“Oh yeah, go ahead!” Berba chuckled, as the goalkeeper took the bottle.
“Well, well…” he said when it stopped. “I guess you should stop laughing, Mr. Jones.”
The blonde didn’t stop laughing, but his laughs were more nervous.
“Truth or dare?”
“Dare. I’m a brave man.”
The guys knew that was true-they’d seen him on the pitch. Yet, now they would see how brave he was at a truth or dare party.
“Ok. Then… close your eyes and don’t open them.”
“Aw fuck-“ the defender whispered, but he had to do so.
“Very good…” Edwin nearly chuckled. “Now, you’ll lick three things. You must guess what they are. Don’t open your eyes. The guys will bring some things.”
Phil didn’t seem very convinced, but complied. Berba kept watch to make sure the kid didn’t cheat; meanwhile, Ed sat next to David and said:
“Take your shirt off.”
“What?”
“Do it. Or would you want to take your pants off?”
When he heard that, David took his tee off. The dare was ready.
Chicha then stood up and put his cold beer bottle in front of the momentarily blind Phil.
“Go ahead then,” Ed announced. “Lick.”
The defender stuck out his tongue and licked the side of the beer bottle.
“Cold and wet,” he said. “That seemed safe.”
Michael, who had gone looking for something to use on the dare (and had come back with a plushie) had other thing in his hand.
“Look at this guys!” he whispered. “It’s a pole! We can set it somewhere and get someone to pole dance! Rio, where you’d get that-“
“Aw, shut up n’ ‘urry,” the filthy mouthed defender answered, before taking the plushie and putting it in front of Phil’s face.
“Lick again,” Ed ordered.
Phil did as he was told-and let out a squeak.
“What the-this better not be any groin!” he shouted.
“We’re not that hairy!” Berba was rolling on the floor with laughter.
“OK,” Ed said, trying not to laugh. “Here comes the third thing.”
He beckoned at David to come closer. The boy did as he was told-
He blushed madly again when Rio pushed the blonde’s face close to his chest-to his left nipple.
“Lick now.”
Phil’s tongue made David’s nub erect. The young goalie shivered. Fuck. Phil’s tongue felt lovely against his skin.
Immediately, he wished he could have more…
“Ok,” Ed whispered. “Put your shirt back on, David. Thanks.”
The Spaniard went back to his place and picked up his shirt. Now he didn’t feel like putting it back on…
“Very well, Phil!” Ed cheerfully said. “Now, before you open your eyes, guess what they are!”
“The first one…” the defender started. “Cold and wet. Seemed like a cold bottle.”
“Yes!” Chicha immediately nodded.
“Second one?”
Phil made a face of disgust.
“Furry. It better not have been a dustball.”
“Close,” Michael rubbed the plushie against the boy’s face. “It was just some stuffed animal.”
“Oh. Good,” the boy seemed genuinely relieved.
“And now,” Ed smiled. “The third one.”
“It was hot and a bit hard against my tongue. It felt like skin. I think it was…” Phil hesitated, but went on. “A nipple.”
“Yes!” Open your eyes now!” Ed greatly said.
Phil opened his eyes and looked at the circle. Only Roo and Berba were shirtless.
“I… I think I licked the Berba.”
“I won’t tell,” the Bulgarian winked. The defender sat down: he looked just a teeny bit disappointed.
“What’s up? It’s a party! Spin!” Rio said.
Phil did. The bottle pointed to one of the guys in front of him.
“Michael Owen.”
“Ok…” the striker said. “My turn then.”
“Truth or dare?”
“I don’t know if you’ll have imagination left after what has been going on. Dare,” Michael said, sounding very sure of himself.
“Then touch someone else’s cock,” Phil Jones said, without even stopping to think.
Now that made the striker blink.
“Wha-just like that?”
“Well, yes,” the young defender nodded.
Michael looked around. He seemed reluctant.
“Do I have to choose…”
“If you don’t want to, I could choose for you,” Phil suggested.
The other man thought for a moment.
“Ok, do,” he finally swallowed.
“Why don’t we undress Berba?” the younger man concluded after a while. “He’s only in his underwear, after all.”
Giggs nodded. Even his lust seemed controlled. The Bulgarian was the one who laughed.
“Oh sure. You dirty. You wanted this all along.”
“Shut up and undress,” Phil took a drink from his lager. “Let’s make this quick.”
Dimi stood up and just pulled his boxers down a bit, letting them slide down his legs. Even if the room was quiet, he could feel Giggsy’s eyes taking note of every one of his moves.
“Ya’re small, Berba!” Rio’s noisy laughter rang out.
“Fuck you,” the Bulgarian flipped the finger at Rio and then sat down.
“Well, Mike?”
The Golden Boy looked up, down, and then to Berba’s cock, which waited for him. He didn’t seem very convinced with Phil’s choice.
“C’mon, Mike!” Wayne roared.
Michael stretched his hand and placed it on Berba’s limp shaft. He could swear Giggs had let in a violent breath as he curled his fingers around the length.
Everybody was looking at the scene, except for Evans, who seemed a little uncomfortable with the situation and eventually averted his eyes.
“…is my dare over?” the striker asked after a while.
“Yes. You touched him, it’s over,” Phil nodded, and Michael let go of Dimi’s shaft. Besides him, the other small gasp Giggsy let out was almost noticeable, and the striker thought whether the Welshman would or would not have something growing inside his jeans.
“OK. My turn now,” Michael finally said, and spun the bottle, until it landed on…
“Mr. Ferdinand.”
Rio chuckled.
“Truth or dare?”
“Truth. I’m a man wit’ a word o’ gold.”
“Yeah, right, if you mean the bad golden words you say!” Chicha said merrily.
“Aw my mouth’s sacred!” the defender answered.
“Well, spit out this sacred truth. Rio, you’ve been in these United showers a long time. Says who has the longest penis.”
Rio’s raucous laughter filled the room. In fact, even though the guys started laughing along with him, after a moment they thought the fit should be stopped.
“C’mon, Ferdy! Wut’s so funny? The size of yer penis, must be!” Wayne exclaimed.
Rio finally stopped laughing and looked at everyone, his eyes rakishly twinkling.
“Wut’s funny is that ya asked that question. People, the longest penis’s mine.”
Complaints and laughs of disbelief rang out.
“You liar, Rio!” was the first remark, and Nemanja was the one who said it.
“No! Rio! That’s not fair!” Michael shook his head, but the defender laughed some more.
“Ya asked it, I tol’ the truth, Golden Boy.”
“Oh, yeah, then mine’s the winner-“
“Uh, uh, uh, ya wanted truth, I tol’ya the truth. Now le’s go. Vida, yer turn.”
“What? Why me? You didn’t even spin bottle!” the Serbian complained.
To be continued...