This story is fiction and is not intended to imply anything about the sexuality of those involved nor anything about their private lives.
This story is only intended for those above legal age in their country and is not suitable for minors.
If you have problems understanding fantasy versus reality, please close this file.
Gerrard Sports Shop Visit
"Have you got somewhere quiet to try these please mate?"
It was a familiar voice with a strong Liverpudlian accent that spoke the words from behind me. As I turned around I was about to give the usual answer of, "no, sorry. We don't have changing rooms," until I realized why the voice was familiar. It wasn't someone I knew and he didn't know me but I'd seen him on the television often enough and in the papers. "Ah, Mr. Gerrard. We don't really have anywhere that you can try them on. There's only a store room that's quiet and customers aren't really expected in there. It's not very tidy."
"Er, I don't care about tidy, I just wanna know if they fit me ok," he said, showing me the pair of Speedo jammers that he had on a hanger in his hand.
"You can always bring them back, sir," I said. He looked a little crest fallen.
"I'm on my way to the pool and don't have any kit with me. I was hoping to make sure they were ok before making a fool of myself."
That explained it. Why Steven Gerrard would be looking to try on swimming trunks in a sports shop like the one I was working in.
"I suppose you could use the store room, though I'm sorry it's not very tidy."
"Great. Where is it?" he asked.
"I'll show you. Just through here." I led the way through the store.
"Aren't you coming in?" he asked. "Make sure I don't rob anything?"
"Do I really need to?" I asked.
"No, but it might be good if you did," he said, looking at the bulge that was starting to be outlined in my trackie bottoms and tracing his fingers round the bulge that was growing in his.
I blushed fiercely before making sure there was someone else on the floor of the shop and opened the store room door. "After you," I said. He went ahead of me into the store room and like someone who didn't know what day it was I followed him and closed the door.
"Is there a lock on that door?" he asked, the thick Scouse accent filling the room.
I nodded. "Better lock it, just in case then." I nodded again and turned and locked the door. When I turned back I was trapped between the wall and a very hot, very horny and very fit footie player. "Not a very big store room here, is it?"
"Not very," I gasped.
He struggled to get his tackie bottoms down, revealing tight white nylon briefs. I gasped again. "Do you like these?" he asked, pointing to his underwear.
"They look great on you," I responded.
"Thanks"
He pulled them down and pulled the jammers on. In doing so, I could do nothing but watch his cock, not fully hard but not exactly soft. The blue veins highlighting its length and width, the head large and filled with blood. God he was gorgeous on the field and also in the crotch.
"Enjoying the show?" he asked, drawing me out of my reverie as he pulled the jammers up to his waist.
"Erm, er, cough, erm, sorry, I didn't mean to do that. You took me by surprise."
"I don't think there was much surprise there, was there?" he asked, or maybe stated.
I looked at the floor. He lifted my chin with his hand. "Was there...?" he asked.
"No."
"And?"
"Sorry sir."
"Oh, I don't think you're sorry so much as just collared?" Gerrard said. "Is this what you were looking at?" he asked, outlining his cock in the very full jammers.
"Yes," I gasped.
"Well then, I think I need it to go down before I go outside with these trunks, don't you?" he said. "How about helping me?" he asked.
I wasn't sure if he was joking or if it was a stunt or what but the testosterone filling the room off this stud was enough that it didn't really matter. I dropped to my knees and started to rub my face all over his crotch and took his cock in my mouth through the fabric of the jammers. He tasted fantastic!
"Is that good?" he asked. I could only nod slightly (my mouth being fully occupied!) but did so and carried on with my attention. "It's great here too. Ooh, OH!" His orgasm seemed to be creeping up on him very fast, even though I was teasing him through the fabric. "You'd better stop or I'll be making a mess," he said. I stopped.
"I think I've made a mess of them anyway," I said, struggling to get the words out. "Spit all over the fabric tends not to sell very well."
"Keep on going and I'll buy them anyway," he teased, pulling at the cord on the jammers. I helped him free his cock from the fabric and too him in my mouth in one gulp. "Ooh, where'd you learn to do that?" Gerrard asked, not getting an answer other than my insistent mouth on his 10" of Liverpudlian meat. It tasted fantastic.
His body began to tense as my throat, then my tongue, then my throat again attacked his cock with all the urgency it deserved. Stevie groaned that he was coming then matched the actions to the words, the groans starting somewhere in his stomach, going up to his mouth and then back to his cock. It was fantastic. I swallowed most of his load though it then started to drip down my chin - he was coming faster than I could swallow!
Once he'd finished coming, he pulled me up to my feet and then kissed me, long and hard yet so softly and tenderly that I thought I was dreaming. As he broke the kiss he asked, "you glad I stopped by?"
"Definitely!" I said, confirming what he already thought.
"How about we do it again later?" he asked.
"But, but, erm..." I was flustered by this and it showed.
"You didn't really think that I was going swimming did you?" he said, trying to clear up my confusion but not managing it at all.
"But, if not then why did you come in?" I asked, very confused, very hurt and very angry all in one.
"Well, with a speedo fetish like mine you can't tell everyone," he explained in that Scouse accent. "I needed, or rather wanted, some more trunks, that's true. I recognised your picture off the internet so, rather than go home and wank off in them I thought I'd have a go." This was calming me down but getting me more excited and confused, all in one. "so, the question still stands, you fancy doing this again later? back at my place. In comfort and relaxing. Mrumph.."
I interrupted him by putting my lips to his. Breaking off, I said, "yes, I'd love to."
"You mean it?" he said, seeming surprised.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"
"It's unusual for someone, a guy, to say yes to me, that's all."
I didn't believe it but maybe he didn't allow himself to be put in that position too often. "I think most of my gay mates and some of the straight ones would love to be doing what I've just done," I replied.
"I didn't want them," he said. "I wanted you. I still do. You want me to pick you up?"
"That'd be great." I took a pen out of my pocket and tore a bit off one of the empty boxes, scribbling my address and phone number on it. "Here's where I live."
He put the card in his pocket, pulled up his trackies over the jammers and then passed me his nylon briefs. "You might like to hang on to these until later," he said. You look about my size." I tore off my own trackies and the speedos I was wearing as underwear and swapped into the briefs. "Great!" he announced. "Fit like a glove."
"They feel great from here too," I said, blushing.
"About eight tonight?"
"Great!" I responded, not wanting to appear too quick but not wanting to put any doubt in his mind.
We both made sure we were dressed then exited the store room, putting the light off as we went.
I checked the jammers out at the checkout with staff discount. Gerrard winked at me, then left. I blushed all over again, watching him leave the store and get mobbed by a gang of kids in Liverpool kit. He signed all of the autographs as I watched him, then turned to me, gave me another wink, then walked away.
I felt my heart sink and thought that I'd probably not see him again except at a distance. I still had the briefs though and I felt my cock stiffen again.
"You find a new friend?" a colleague asked.
"Dunno," I blushed.
"Good luck and be careful," he answered the unasked question.
Later, just as I was pulling into the drive at home, I got a text on my phone. "Just checking ur still on and they're still on? Stevie." I texted back, "yes and yes."
A moment later I was in the house and there was a knock at the door. Someone started to whistle 'You'll Never Walk Alone' then sung a few words. I recognised the voice again. I opened the door and let Stevie in.
"I couldn't wait," he answered, before I even looked at my watch to wonder what time it was. I was enveloped in his arms and never wanted to move anywhere else again.