Please support nifty in any way you can, and let's generate awareness for LGBT literature. This story is a work of fiction. This never happened, it's just pure fantasy as Clemson QB Trevor Lawrence is sexy. Thank you to nifty, fellow contributors, and also readers. You've helped with your feedback and I value you very much. Terry
Watching Tom Brady win another Super Bowl didn't seem real. While jaded as a professional sportswriter, it took a leap of faith, to imagine a 43 year old guy winning his seventh ring. I remembered the boyish Brady bringing a Patriots Championship, not long after the disturbing events of 9/11. That kick sealed the deal, but it was this young 199th pick, who made that team complete. He reminded me of a more disciplined Brett Favre, or of his own childhood hero, which was Joe Montana when he played for San Francisco. Montana still always made me laugh. I had interviewed him several times, and he had confirmed the "is that John Candy" story, that happened in the 49ers Super Bowl with the Cincinnati Bengals.
Wait a minute, the Cincinnati Bengals? Ouch. Talk about the minor leagues of professional teams. It went without saying, but even with Joe Burrow and new developments, they were the punching bag to every sports joke. The past few weeks had been exhausting working for my publication. While television and internet coverage was more sexy, there's still a large number of Americans who enjoy reading about their teams and sports icons. Technology was taking over, but so as to extend my craft, my company and I worked voraciously to line up interviews with the hottest players. Later this evening I'd meet Clemson Quarterback Trevor Lawrence, who was the consensus #1 pick coming up for the NFL draft. It was a nice surprise to secure this interview, as the 6'6 phenom was being compared to Canton enshrined players. Clemson University always had a following, but he made the powerhouse of the south, get an explanation point on the end of the team name.
Reviewing footage in my hotel room, I admired his ability for quick reads on coverage, or his arm strength to snap out fifty yard blasts to a barely open receiver. I tried to find pertinent information about his life, girlfriend, and other noteworthy events, but there wasn't much material to work with. He didn't have an off campus record or rumors of bad behavior. This was always where I got the best data for interview preparation, and I wasn't afraid to ask any questions. Sure I'd get a lot of "no comments," yet body language taught me when I was on to something. This led to intense interviews, and some articles published, that would garner attention and also make my editor squirm. She couldn't quash most of my work. Sarah was the consulate professional, and knew what we were up against. Although younger than me, she was intense, cerebral, and focused on achievement. Due to this we got along great, and she was one of only a handful of colleagues, who knew I was gay. She last week, made sure to take me out to lunch, as it was the anniversary of losing my sister to cancer. A painful day that always left me in tears, as Terri was beloved by all that knew her. I knew once home, I'd check on her husband and almost grown up kids.
Traveling caused time distortion. What airline was I on? What's the destination? Am I at the correct airport? Did the car rental voucher show up, and what hotel would I attempt to sleep in. Years ago there was a rumor that New York governor Mario Cuomo, went home nightly to his own bed, so that he could get a proper rest. Smiling at this memory, perhaps he was correct to do this. Yet I also wondered, as my mind often wandered, what would he think of his sons allegations of sexual harassment be? I had met the elder Cuomo several times, and lost track how I wanted him to be president. Approaching my mid 40's, I was also having to take Benadryl more often to sleep. Sure some of this was traveling, but it seemed as if my best nights of z's were never going to happen again. Now it was aspirin and antacids. Still I was thankful to have my 6'3 frame and good health, as I looked younger than my age with a nice figure and thick brown hair.
Knoxville heat was in effect. Just like my last visit to Tennessee in April. While Trevor Lawrence didn't go to Petyton Manning's alma mater, which had streets named after him, I was to visit him at his house on the outskirts of town. The rental Chevrolet Malibu kicked on, and I cranked the AC to full, before my short sleeve dress shirt became soaked. How did confederate or Union soldiers invading the south, wear wool and travel 30 miles a day? Here I was in a relatively modern car, with a 5G phone, and GPS guidance getting me to my destination. It was a coup to score a interview with Trevor, as countless others in media, would sell a kidney for the opportunity. In this fiercely competitive business, they might go higher than that. As usual I had my beat up Samsonite briefcase, tape recorder, and notepad with questions already filled in.
Knoxville was very much a college town, and maps along with directions could be confusing. Then again so could the locals accents. On my last trip I asked a Knoxville police officer for directions, and couldn't understand a damn thing he said. To be polite, I simply nodded my head and thanked him for his help. I laughed driving to this memory, when out of nowhere, a black SUV almost careened into my lane. Honking my horn, sweat formed on my arms, as we didn't have the dreaded impact. Life on the road sounds glamorous, but this and acidic tasting coffee, was the reality of the situation. Add that to the time distortion, and I often mused that I should have picked a safer profession. Yet that was all in my head, as my heart lived to meet athletes, learn sports and about the people who made it happen. What surprised me with these athletes, was not the news stories about violence and drugs, but rather the charitable work these folks did for no attention or recognition. So many considered this "quiet faith," so I did respect their wishes in articles, unless they offered it up voluntarily. Not many did, and I admired these wealthy folks, for their random acts of kindness.
Trevor Lawrence opened the door, and introduced me to his parents. His mom and dad were very kind, and I was thankful for their hospitality. Here I was a media nuisance, being treated with such warmth and congenital behavior. Inside my thoughts, were "that'll change in a year, and damn Trevors taller than I thought." Heck he might be 6'7 and 230! He had the longest arms I had ever seen, and pictures didn't do him justice. I had seen him before on the news or in games, but he was so sexy with his long light brown hair. He had Teutonic Roman like features, and a sly smile that made me feel, twitchy to put it kindly. Even his voice was sexy, with a southern drawl, but not Knoxville brough that I couldn't comprehend. A nice young man, probably excited to be drafted #1 by the now Urban Myer led Jacksonville Jaguars.
He didn't act 22, instead it was like being in the room with a well established, mature 35 year old. I had to laugh as he asked me, "is that briefcase from Jurassic Park?" He didn't mean it maliciously, and had to smile, as the mileage was showing on it. His parents had left us in the living room with crackers, cheese, fruits, and even chopped bell peppers. What a nice spread and a comfortable house. Upper middle class but more pretentious, I had done my homework, and knew Trevors mom was a principal and his dad owned a construction company. Their cars were in the garage, but I did get to meet Rusty, their friendly Brittany dog that apparently was used to hunt ruffled grouse. Some bird I had never heard of, although I was familiar with pheasants and quail. Those were both attractive and delicious birds, that rivaled the best chicken or turkey money could buy.
Trevor and I sat on the same couch, with the big screen television off. He was easy to talk to, and we went over everything from his childhood to his future aspirations in the NFL. His body language suggested to me he'd be fine with any team, but I was able to coax out his administration for Urban Myer. I asked him about his agent David Spanos and what kind of contract he would entertain. "Whatever the team thinks I'm worth." While I knew his agent was the ball buster, I found Lawrence to be laid back and very intuitive at the same time. He gave me good information about his Pee Wee Football team, and how he wanted to be a safety or cornerback originally. Yet a astute coach saw him tossing a football one day, and the cliche "history was born," seemed appropriate. Our interview was about thirty minutes. Actually it was an hour, as the phone in the house rang off the hook. Trevor apologized for this. It wasn't his fault. I thanked him, and his parents along with Rusty, and gave him my business card.
Stopping in a Krystal burger, I knew I had a good article to write. Unlike some college students, he made completing this assignment a cinch. Also he didn't feel the need to dress up either, as he wore blue jeans and a Clemson t shirt. He was different. A bit unorthodox, and without the ego I had falsely thought would be an issue. What a nice guy. I could see he was very genuine, and got back to the Doubletree. A cup of coffee, I started typing away on my laptop. This was done so often, that I didn't need to look at the keys, to associate certain noises with a keystroke. The old HP laptop was for sentimental reasons. I knocked out the template, and emailed it to Sarah for approval or rejection. No doubt this would be approved, and another solid interview with this much frenzy around a player, could get me TV time or the book deal I dreamed of,
Sitting in my blue boxers, I took a beer out of the mini fridge. The Stella Artois tasted refreshing. It's cool temperature was the opposite of what was outside, when my cell phone beeped. I put on my reading glasses for the little LG screen and it said "this is Trevor, and you're hot." I laughed. Sarah was playing a joke on me. Another beep, "Terry can I visit you at the Doubletree?". No way. A third beep "I'm in the closet but I want you daddy." I called the number attached, about to go off on the joker, when I heard the distinctive familiar voice. It was him. Yes the #1 college football player found me sexy, and as we talked I felt warm. My penis got really hard, as blood flow seemed limited to there, and my head spun as Trevor invited himself over. "Room 239," was all I could blabber out. Half my age, built like Adonis, I couldn't begin to imagine this was real. Was I asleep and having a dream? That went away as there was a knock, and sure enough the big guy with long hair walked in the room.
He stepped into my personal space, brushed back my hair, and kissed me. "We have to keep this secret but I've got to have you." My knees buckled. I was hard. The pheromones and hormones were off the charts as he gave me passionate French kisses, and grabbed my rear and with his Vice grip huge hands. His groin area was full, and I couldn't resist stroking him there. Trevors brown eyes burned with intense zest. He kissed me more, and I had my head pushed down. Instinctively I unbuckled and zipped his jeans off, as they hit the floor. His bright orange briefs were full. I put my hands in the band, and pulled out the biggest penis I had ever seen. It must be nine inches. Taking his shaft in my mouth, I watched him grin, and take his t shirt off. Oh my his abs were so defined. His hairy penis and balls in my mouth were incredible. It was if two became one, as he literally was oozing precum in my mouth. Every bit of my taste buds enjoyed his sugary sweet DNA. He moaned more as I licked his gigantic testicles. Soon he was on the bed instantaneously, and I was giving him head more passionately than I ever had before. His musky masculine scent enveloped me, and it made me so hard turning him on.
Soon we were kissing again, and he ripped my trousers off. I was naked. He massaged my penis and balls too, and those monster sized hands started to penetrate my tight hole. It was if his fingers hit my g spot like a door bell, as waves of pulsating pleasure in his long thick fingers had me in rapture. Never was I so turned on, he was so sexy, exuded confidence, and the smell of Armani code made me desire him. I didn't hesitate when he told me to bend over in front of him. Even though the size of his package scared me, how could I say no to someone I wanted so much? His hands on my testes from behind was an amazing sensation, and soon I heard him pull out a bottle of lube. That sound. Oh yes he had the warning version too, and I could feel his index and ring fingers penetrating me. Being violated by him was wonderful, and I begged him to fuck me.
As he slid into my tightness, I gasped in astonishment. Never had I felt a pulsating cock like his. It was going back and forth, entering my hole gently, but gradually he was so deep I couldn't have cried for help. Nothing but heavy breathing and my vocal cords didn't work, as I felt his athletic hands grabbing my waist with a firm grip. He slapped my ass cheeks, as he went balls deep inside of me. It was too much as tears went down my eye sockets, yet I was smiling too, albeit with a bloody tongue due to biting on it. I had bottomed plenty of times, but to be fucked like an animal, this was new as Trevor had a sexual motor that just kept charging away. He was on top of me now, kissing me and dropping the hammer on what was left of me. I was mush in his hands, moaning as he stroked my cock, that was feeling the effects of his big one in me.
My feet were on his shoulders. I couldn't take it anymore, as my fingers grabbed the bedsheets. The warmth, the turn on of my g spot being pounded, knowing this stud was deflowering me, I submitted to his manly desires. Eventually the cataclysm built up, as the smell of sweat and sex meshed together, and I just came everywhere. Sperm flew out and I screamed in octaves never reached, as the intense zen like high was amongst the best ever experienced. My penis continued to unload my ball butter, and Trevor pounded me with determination and purpose. As I rode him we kissed, and I could see him losing control. His balls started to tighten up, and he shot his whole load of river capacity into my now loosened up rear end. He moaned and screamed, and to be held down by his strength and intensity was surreal.
As his cum rolled out of my insides, he kissed me. We hugged for awhile, and told me, "I want you to keep this secret." I had no problem with that, as he told me that once he went pro, he'd "take me out to dinner and have me for dessert." This made me feel excited, and we kissed for awhile, before he head out the door. As I slept, I dreamed of kissing this stud in the prime of his life, and woke up to two smiles. One was Trevor texting me "thank you and let's again," and on the computer screen, I saw that Sarah had approved my article for publication. On my emails, she had sent me a note, "you really got a lot of info on Trevor, it's almost like you know him.Take three days off for a job well done." I grabbed a beer, popped a couple aspirins as Trevor had jarred me loose, and there was some pleasant pain. Turning on the television, the network was showing his best plays, but I think ours was a lot better.