Part sixty-five: Tonight's the Night
It felt like only yesterday that the footballing world had been queuing up to laugh at Manchester United's weak season and fading glory, and yet tonight, they had won 5-0 against Linzer Atheltik-Sport-Klub in the north of Austria, cruising forward in the Europa league only a day after Liverpool's much-publicised defeat in the Champions League. And only a matter of days after trouncing City in the Manc derby...
Brandon Williams felt so incredibly lucky to be part of it. Exhausted from 90+ minutes out on the chilly Austrian pitch, the spry 19-year old left-back picked his way through the dressing room excitement in the stadium's away quarters, mirroring the jubilant grins of his teammates. He pulled strands of his blond mop out of his forehead and turned his head to listen to big Maguire rallying the winning squad with a little speech.
Harry was shirtless like most of them, his long muscular torso on show, an arm draped about the shoulders of Ole Gunnar Solksjaer, praising a wide range of team members and the group as a whole. Maguire was hardly an articulate man, but his passion was obvious and there were various roars of approval and agreement from guys on all sides of the sweaty, clammy changing rooms.
Brandon, hands on his hips, watched with a less assured smile on his face. For all the water under the bridge, he still felt a little bit uneasy around the United captain, and couldn't help watch his big speech there with a hint of cynicism and resentment. He spied Luke Shaw on the other side of the huddled footballers and could see the grin of pure enjoyment on that sweaty face, the adoration with which his fellow left-back looked up at Maguire. He felt a little lurch of... what, envy, perhaps? After all, he and Luke had shared quiet a moment, but no... He wasn't envious of Harry's seeming control of Luke, he mused, just wary of someone so dominant and unpredictable as the big Yorkshire bloke at the helm of the team.
All the same, tonight was fucking amazing.
He turned away as the speech ended and the celebrations relaxed around him. He pulled up on his clammy United shirt and pulled it over his slim torso, wiping sweat from his face and starting to kick out of his tight boots. Then suddenly, a pair of hands were on his bared shoulders as another one of the lads grabbed at him in victorious excitement: he quickly recognised the touch, which was surely impossible, but he was becoming so used to physical closeness with this lad that he could sense his presence beside him almost instantly.
`Quality work out there buddy,' hissed Mason Greenwood's excitable voice in his ear.
Brandon turned with a tiny blush to his cheeks, a little embarrassment at some physical intimacy from his fellow first-team teen, in public at least. Thanks,' he grunted back instantly, but it was you scoring one of those five fucking goals, lad...' He reached out and patted the taller player on the side of his chiselled torso with an admiring grin. `Well done, big lad.'
Greenwood, humble as ever, grinned bashfully and leant in closer at this quieter end of the changing room, arm to the wall. I think we'd already won the game, with Mata's strike before mine!' he admitted. Mine and Pereira's... well, just icing on the cake, eh!'
Brandon, holding his shirt awkwardly in both hands, feeling suddenly coy beside Greenwood, in the midst of all this laddish banter and post-match excitement, thinking of their sporadic but precious moments together in recent weeks. `Oh shut up, you know you added a lot when Ole finally brought you on,' Brandon exclaimed quietly. Somewhere close by, a couple of champagne bottles had been precociously uncorked and a bit of the sticky spray flicked towards them, making both lads giggle and eye each other knowingly. A fleck of the expensive froth landed on Brandon's collarbone, and he could almost see the desire to lick it off in Mason's quiet eyes.
Well, if I'd been on at the START,' chuckled Mason idly, who knows how many...'
`Totally,' Brandon muttered half-teasingly, letting his eyes rove daringly about the sharp lines of Mason's six pack, flat chest, long neck.
A fucking Europea league goal scorer, match-winner,' Mason said with the same playful tone to his voice, leaning in still closer: riskily close, Brandon thought, surrounded by the mixed crowd of their teammates. League winning quality deserves a league winning treat tonight, don't you think...?'
`Eh?'
Brandon leaned over with a bit of a hug, the lean muscles of his arms pressing about Brandon's shoulders and his face pulling so close it felt for a second like a kiss might land on his cheek. Tonight is the night, Bran,' Greenwood whispered to him. Come on. Has to be. Please.' He turned and nervously eyed the slightly younger lad. `We've waited long enough,' Greenwood urged.
Brandon couldn't help but let his eyes widen and his brows raise. `Oh – what? Er, yeh...' And then before he could awkwardly mumble more, they were interrupted. Bruno Fernandes was playfully grabbing Mason by the shoulders and tugging him away into a shirtless hug whilst Juan Mata, wielding one of the spraying bottles of champers, lunged over and tossed a frothy mess of it at the side's youngest goal-scorer tonight. Brandon stared wide-eyed for a moment to laugh along with the others, seeing a few other players closing in to hug and clap at Greenwood in congratulations: there was a lot of love for the young Bradford kid and his energetic contributions this season, even when things had been a lot less successful in 2019.
`Tonight is the night...' Mason's words echoed in Brandon's head above the heavy noise of the changing room and he stared blankly into the celebrating mass of his teammates, his whole body tensing up in nervous expectation. He'd been deftly avoiding Mason's enthusiasm to step things up for as long as he could, but he knew he was pushing it now. And amid all this 5-0 excitement and league progression, his secret lover's words felt irresistibly true: they had waited long enough. It had to be tonight. Oh fuck. He gulped in fear.
Harry,' Luke sighed, I am sure it IS just a daft joke. I can't believe you're still thinking about it.'
It was hours on from the great win and the jubilant scenes in the away dressing rooms of the LASK stadium, and Shaw was sprawled on one of two double beds in a small but comfortably furnished hotel room. It was the first time in quite some time that he and Maguire had been roomed together on a way trip, as it happened: they had both uncertainly agreed against ever outright requesting to be regular roommates, knowing it had too much potential to throw up questions or suspicions even amongst the most unsuspecting of their colleagues.
Harry Maguire was sat at the foot of the bed, hunched over his mobile phone, a hoody hanging open about his shoulders over a white tshirt and loose-fitting tracksuit bottoms. He turned and gave Luke a thoughtful, uncertain expression, all frowns and curiosity. Luke smiled indulgently his way and put down the laptop he was using to deal with his emails.
`It is fucking weird though, isn't it?' Harry demanded, not for the first time this week. He'd shown Luke the random picture message from Eric Dier almost immediately, calling around his apartment later that day in near-hysterics about it. And yes, Luke agreed, it was fucking weird, but...
He was quite clear,' Shaw told his big roommate, shifting his bare legs a little to get into a more comfortable position. It was some naff shit from a group chat. These things happen, right? I get all sorts of weird crap off group chats, I know that. Some of the fucking memes my old Southampton pals send around...!'
`Yeah, but...'
Oh Harry,' Luke chuckled, please drop it, will ya?' He smirked at the bewildered look on Harry's big face and flipped shut the top of his laptop with a playful pout on his handsome young face, clean-shaven and fresh between his neatly trimmed blond hair. `I mean, what is it – you think the lad in that picture is hotter than me, or...?' He saw the guilty panic on Harry's face and gave him a gentle kick in the side with one bare foot.
What? Fuck no...' Harry grumbled in a deep, awkward voice. I just mean...'
Oh relax,' Luke sighed. It's a... it's a hot pic, right? But... I mean, who do you even think it is? Harry fucking Winks or summat?' He put aside his laptop and slid off the side of the bed, edging about the rectangle of the double bed until he was standing right beside the hunched man resting his hands on the broad platform of his shoulders and looking down into his wide eyes. I'm not JEALOUS,' he murmured, not any more, anyways...'
`It's not about the pic,' Maguire grunted frustratedly.
`Even if it is hot.'
Even if it is hot,' Harry echoed begrudgingly, bringing his hands up to the hips of Luke's jogging shorts and toying with the waistband and the hem of his tshirt. It ain't that though... Do you really buy his garbled messages...? Like... I'm a clumsy texter, but I ain't ever sent a picture of a spunky arse to a mate and...'
I fucking hope not,' Luke joked soothingly, squeezing and rubbing at the bunched up shoulder muscles on either side of Harry's thick strong neck. Otherwise I'd be really worried about what you're getting up to in my bedroom, big man!' He sniggered, leant down and kissed Harry on the forehead once. `Stop fretting. Eric Dier is NOT... into that stuff.' He'd hesitated to say gay or bi or queer, because that would come too close to labelling what they had together here – he knew that Harry was nowhere near ready for THAT.
Okay, okay,' Harry mumbled, fine... I'll drop it.' He smiled, a little tipsily. They'd both enjoyed a couple of pints with the rest of the squad down in the hotel bar before retiring up here, and along with some hastily quaffed fizz in the dressing rooms, it had them sleepy and half-drunk on their own muscular exhaustion.
Unless you'd rather have fucking Eric up here with you,' Luke remarked with the same half-joking petulance and resentment. You keep telling me I'm enough, but...'
`You're more than enough,' Harry growled, and his long fingertips began to slid about Luke's hips until they were pulling at the curve of his full backside, and he couldn't hold in his grin of satisfaction, knowing what fun he was in for tonight. So long as they were quiet, they could really spend a full proper night together, wake up together, no worry about Harry getting home to his other life, and... An urgent little flurry of knocks at the bedroom door interrupted them, and both men swore under their breaths.
You get it,' muttered Harry awkwardly, I have a bit of a...' He parted his big legs a little so Luke could just see the early tenting of his arousal, and he felt a rush of pride that he could summon up that excitement in his partner with so little effort or contact: the intimacy between them felt more powerful and all-consuming by the day. Glowing with this thought, he backed off from the sitting man and nodded his agreement, heading over to the door in shorts and tshirt, wondering who on earth could be disturbing them.
He unlocked and opened the door a crack, while Harry got up and fussed about elsewhere in the room, mumbling to himself about weird arse picture messages' and fucking bad lies'. Through the crack in the door, Luke spied a familiar young face glaring impatiently at him: aha, Brandon. Running on instinctive awareness than logical thinking, Luke pushed the door open a bit more and slid out into the corridor rather than inviting Williams into the shared hotel room. Nobody was more aware of the simmering dislike between Brandon and Harry than Luke, after all.
Sorry,' the 19-year-old was muttering quietly, just needed to...'
`What's up?' Luke asked softly, seeing the wild anxiety in the younger left-back's eyes.
`Well, just needed to, er, speak to ya...'
`Yeah, is everything okay? You look... What's wrong, Bran...?'
Nothing, nothing,' the teen said irritably. Just... Look, Luke, I think... I think Mase really wants to, you know, go for it, tonight, and so...'
Ohhh...' Luke let an affectionate grin spread over his face and toyed with the door handle behind him, cocking his head a little. Finally time to try it out, then?' He glanced up and down the corridor a little to check they were actually alone on this doorstep. `Well, it will be great, just take it slow... Bran, we talked this through, I told you all I can, and...'
I know,' Brandon said a little snappily, impatiently. But I feel like you still weren't like... explaining it properly, you know, I don't get how...'
Luke felt a twang of annoyance at the accusing, demanding tone, though he did feel for the younger footballer's nervousness and found his caution so endearing rather than silly. `Bran, stop getting worked up,' he began, but Williams scowled at him and seemed to tense up at this comment.
I ain't a queer like you,' Brandon snapped a little suddenly, sorry if it don't come so natural to me, fuckin' hell... I just thought you could help, that's all, so-`
Brandon,' Luke said a little more firmly, I don't think that's a very fair comment, do you?' Brandon just scoffed, and Luke tried to put the attitude down to nerves, but he felt the sting of the homophobia and a sense of how unjust and stupid the other guy's comment actually was. Look,' Shaw whispered sharply, you don't do anything you don't want to, but if you wanna do it, just... you have to just try, Bran, remember all the tips I gave, and...'
Oh forget it,' Williams huffed. Shoulda known you'd be full of shite.'
`Hey...'
`I'll let you get back to HIM,' Brandon said testily.
Luke scowled himself and narrowed his eyes. Bran, you need to put that behind you,' he said a bit sharply. I thought we'd talked about this...' He pushed forward a little and made to reach a reassuring hand to Brandon's arm but the wiry shorter lad pulled away and folded his arms a little defensively. Luke frowned at the odd turn this late-night chat had taken, and braced himself against the frosty glare he received.
Put it behind me?' Williams snapped. Luke was about to reply when he went on: You forget that he fucking hit me for nothing, yeh? That he basically abused me in a gym, yeh? He's a big fuckin' psycho, Luke...' Again, Luke went to protest, but Williams hissed on in a risky loud whisper. `He's dangerous – you're a fucking mug, Shaw. I see you fanny around him in the changing rooms and before and after games. You might think you're being discreet but you can smell your pussy drippin' a mile off, you stupid...'
Stop before you say something you regret,' Luke blurted out angrily. Before I fucking punch your face, he added mentally, feeling his hands twist into fists. You're not yourself tonight, mate... back off, okay?'
Oh fuck off,' Brandon scowled. Forget it. Forget I asked. Go suck off your big hero and let him push you about like his fucking toy. Stupid cunt.' And with that, Williams was whirling away, red-faced and fuming. Luke stood there awkwardly, a dozen comebacks and concerned questions battling for attention in his throat, but all dying before reaching his lips. He watched the younger player storm off, and backed off, letting himself back into the hotel room.
Harry was stood at the other side of the room, in the middle of brushing his teeth. What was that?' he gargled through a mouthful of toothpaste. Ole coming to tell you off for your yellow card, you little rough-and-tumbler...?'
Luke made a vaguely uncomfortable laugh at this, Brandon's harsh comments reverberating in his mind, and locked the door behind him before slowly crossing the room. He looked at the mighty figure of his roommate, shirtless and ripping toothpaste down his pecs. A big gentle giant right now, vulnerable and kind, but... Luke had seen that dark side too, and it was all too easy to picture his lashing out at a nervous teenager when things didn't go his way. A queasy sensation troubled Luke as he reached Harry. Nobody,' he mumbled dismissively. Nobody important.'
Good,' Harry said thickly through a mouthful of toothbrush. Now get on your knees and suck my cock, will ya?' It was jokey but commanding. Luke paused and looked him up and down, suddenly uneasy. `Come on, tough guy, no yellow card is gonna convince me you ain't my lovely bitch, hehe... get down there...'
Shut up, Harry,' Luke said, suddenly irritable, picturing Brandon's bruised cheek that day, and turning suddenly away from Maguire, disinterested. Why do I always have to be your "bitch"? Jesus...' He stomped away towards the bed, hot in the cheeks and feeling conflicted. He was horny himself, and had been looking forward to this night since seeing the hotel arrangements yesterday afternoon, but now... He paused by the bed, turned round, and saw the look of hurt innocence on Harry's face, confused by his reaction to what was a running banter between them now. He looked at those wide eyes and melted, forgetting Brandon's stark warnings.
`Are we ok?' Harry grumbled, taking the toothbrush out and smearing his other hand across his messy white lips.
Yeah,' Luke sighed. Yeah we are.'
`Where have you been?! I was starting to panic!'
Brandon tossed the hotel room keys from one hand to the other, and stood in the entrance to their shared corner room for a moment more, still feeling the chill of outside in his cheeks and neck and bright pink fingers. Just a walk,' he answered in sulky bursts of sound, needed some air.' He dropped the keys noisily onto a table at the corner and dug his cold, numb hands into his hoody pockets, and looked about the plain, unhomely bedroom.
Mason was sat curled up on the single chair by the window, his phone plugged in to charge, and he did looked genuinely worried, dressed only in his boxer shorts and a long-sleeve pyjama top of some sort, presumably poised there for a while now, awaiting Brandon's return after he left the room for `five minutes' over an hour ago. Williams felt a rush of guilt at this stupid untruth and regretted his pacing the corridors and aimlessly circling the hotel garden.
A walk?' Greenwood asked confusedly. At this time?'
The tall striker unfolded from the curved red chair and up onto his feet, crossing the room on his long fluffy caramel legs. Brandon shrugged his shoulders moodily and moved in the other direction, going over the room to check a radiator and start kicking off his untied trainers from one sockless foot then the other. As he did so, one of Mason's hands reached for his lower back and the other teen footballer pulled close to him, a worried look on his boyish face. The four inches of height between them was always a little unsettling, compared to Brandon's one year of superiority, which mattered so much more when you were this young.
A walk?' the Bradford lad asked again. It's gone freezing out there, buddy. You look pink as anything!' And then he was pulling both arms about Brandon's waist and leaning in closer, his under-dressed body so warm from being cosy indoors all this time.
`Leave it,' Brandon murmured, about to pull away.
Bran,' sighed Mason. You said you were popping out for five. Are you avoiding me, pal...?'
`Huh? God... no, mate, just...'
Bran.' Mason gave him a knowing look. You know I was just messing downstairs, right? I don't really think I get to fuck you just because I scored a goal. I was teasing.' Brandon stared back, embarrassed to be so transparent in his sulking, but struck with desire for this kindly hunk in front of him now. `We only have to do what you're comfy with, mate!'
Brandon grunted a mix of frustration and gratitude, and he pulled Mason's hands away from the sides of his hoody and backed off a step. I'm sorry, man,' he groaned. I want to give you what you want, Mase, I just... I feel so scared about doing it. I mean, I know you've... You've been there before, so... What if I can't... I mean, Luke, and Dan, and...'
Hey, hey, hey,' soothed Mason. I've had more fun with YOU, Williams, than anyone else... Trust me. It doesn't matter if we don't do... that.'
I want to,' Brandon told him desperately, I just think...' How to explain it? How to phrase his fears and reluctance? I think I'll be crap at it,' he moaned. I mean, compared to other lads, or to the girls you've...' He gritted his teeth, hating the desperation and weakness in his voice, so unlike his usual feisty and resilient self. He resented that his affections for Greenwood (and Shaw, let's be honest) brought this moody teenager out in him!
I find that so hard to believe!' Mason whispered. You're awesome at everything else, man...'
`Shuddup,' Brandon told him awkwardly, but now Mason was sliding down forwards and onto his knees, and – oh. He straightened up awkwardly, still cold from outside, as the front of his hoody was pushed up a little and another hand tugged down on the thick fabric of his Jack Wills jogging bottoms, and his cold, shrunken dick was pulled straight out of his fresh undies and fondled in the warm palm of Mason's hand. He stood there and looked down into the cheeky grin on Greenwood's honest face.
This is where you tell me I'm awesome at it too, mate,' Mason joked, rubbing life into his chilly prick and grinning upwards, otherwise I might deny you my talents.'
Brandon couldn't help laughing, more warmly this time. Oh, you're pretty decent, yeh... I mean, better at blowjobs than FIFA, anyway, mr goal scorer, so...' He giggled again and then shuddered as soft warm lips brushed his cock and Mason went straight to work. Ohhh...!' He slid his hands down and ran his fingers through the tight rough curls of the other lad's short afro hair, and felt that familiar strong tongue push about his soft member then roll against the tight orbs of his bollocks. Ohh... yes...' Mason was kissing the tip of his chubby dick and waking it up, and sliding his hands into the legs of his joggers to rub at his upper thighs. Oh!'
In a moment they were on one of the beds, and Brandon was warming up. He tried his best to keep his moans low and discreet, aware of the thin walls here, but he really enjoyed the feel of Mason's mouth on his meat, so different to his own girlfriend or any of his exes back in high school. Oh yes... in a matter of weeks, Greenwood had graduated from nervous and reluctant in this department to hungry and skilled. Brandon was pretty sure he'd quickly been overtaken by his play-pal in the oral stakes!
All the same, he quickly moved to return the favour, shedding his hoody and settling into the warmth of the bedding as they both lay on their sides and began to 69. He tugged the saggy black boxer briefs away down Mason's long talented legs and wrapped his lips about the firm erection that sprung loose, tasting it and taking it deep in his mouth.
To get a better angle at it, he climbed over more until he was on top of the other teen, spreading his legs to straddle Mason's shoulders, and reaching his face forward into the tightly bunched pubes and heavy loaded balls to really suck hungrily on that beautiful brown dick. He could feel Mason's hands edge up and down his thighs as the other lad noshed on him simultaneously at the same upside-down angle, head bobbing up and down between his legs to lick and tease.
And then, with the usual inevitable curiosity and lust, Mason's hands were going further, pulling at Brandon's smooth perky cheeks, parting them and teasing the base of his crack. Brandon felt his body twitch away instinctively and he tensed up a little nervously, and he felt Mason's mouth slide away from the tip of his thick boner. Sorry,' Greenwood mumbled, didn't mean to freak you there, I'm not trying to...'
No,' Brandon replied breathily. No... do it. Please.'
There was a pause, a breath of excitement, and Mason continued. Brandon crouched there on knees and elbows and felt the curious finger trace his crack and edge into his hole. He tried his best to relax and focus on his blowjob action. Mason's pushy finger was inside him again, and for the first time, he realised how much his trust in this guy was building day by day: how could it go wrong, with a tender lad like Greenwood leading the way...? Again for the first time, Mason's comparative experience felt like a bonus rather than a threatening spectre: he must know what he was doing, mustn't he? Brandon let out a little whine of confused pleasure and discomfort as his ring tightened about Mason's knuckle.
`Mase,' he murmured.
`I can stop, Bran,' the young striker whispered warily.
No, just...' Brandon took a deep breath. There's lube and a condom in my toilet bag. Um.'
`Oh... right. Yeh. Cool.'
Both lads rested there thoughtfully for a minute, listening to one another's rough breaths and feeling the heat of their touching skin. And then Brandon climbed aside, and up hopped Mason, eager and excited. Brandon laughed at his naked body and perky enthusiasm, and watched Greenwodo hop about the room in search of his toilet bag, finally emerging from the bathroom with a grin on his face and his boner swinging about, slick with Brandon's saliva. In seconds he was back on the bed with a condom in one hand and a little nozzle of lube in the other. He beamed at Brandon with the same innocent joy as when he'd scored his goal tonight.
`You're sure?' Greenwood breathed tenderly.
If you can go easy on me,' Williams asked. He thought about Luke's advice. Finger me more for a bit, try two or three...?' He eased himself onto his back and parted his legs more, and tried not to tense up at the feel of Mason's digit returning between his cheeks. He focused instead on the sparkle in the wannabe top's eyes, the twitch of his buzzing smile, the tension in his biceps as he began to push more firmly into the tight, virginal ring.
I'll go easy, of course,' Greenwood promised urgently. Real easy. Slow as anything. It'll be good, I promise you.' He was pressing a second finger to Brandon's hole now. Oh wow.
Williams rested back into the soft layers of duvet and mattress, and pulled his arms up behind his head as he did, lifting and spreading his legs more and giving this handsome young sweetheart fuller access to his unclaimed backside. Unclaimed, for now. Ohhh,' he moaned, two fingers pressing in and stretching him, ohh...'
`Too much?'
`No... More...'
`Oh RIGHT...'
Three of those long thin fingers sliding in and out of his ring with control and gentleness, and Mason's body edging closer to him, hovering over him, between his legs, the other hand sliding gently up and down his torso, a little slick with splashes of the lube. And then he could hear rather than see the tearing of a condom packet, the little burst of rubbery scent. Ready?' he heard Greenwood ask, distantly at first, but then much closer, leaning down face-to-face. Are you ready, baby...?' The young Bradford hunk was pulling into missionary position, body to body, and edging his prick between Brandon's trembling buttocks.
I'm so ready,' he told him in a shaky whisper that belied his claim to confidence, take me, Mase, take me... ohhhh...'
And then Mason delivered two firsts at once. Just as the pinky-red head of his stiff cock entered the crack and pressed to the gently relaxed ring, his lips reached down and his mouth kissed Brandon's for the first time. Their little intimate kisses to neck or shoulder or nipple had been tingling and exciting, but never before had the boys shared one another's tongues like this. Brandon could not believe how welcome it was, or how distracting it was from the ominously thick thing pressing to his tight ring and... and... and... Ohhh...' He let out the long gasp of surprised delight and – OHHH...'
`What? Is it okay? Does it hurt? Baby...?'
`It feels... great... Oh, Mase...'
`Really? Really buddy?'
`Yes!'
`Yes...? Yes! Oh yes...'
True to his word, Mason went slow and gentle. Brandon wondered for a brief few seconds how this compared to Greenwood's other fucks, but he found he didn't care much, or feel any bitterness on that account. All he cared for was this novel experience and the intimacy it brought. The feeling of this tall lean body over his own, and the cock sliding into him, opening him up, entering him deeply... He reached up with his lips and found another then another kiss, and he reached up to grab at biceps and shoulders and claw across Mason's back muscles. Slow, controlled thrusts, tantalisingly slow at times, in and out, innnn and ouuuut...
`Mason, oh Mason... Yes, baby... ohh...'
`YES, YES...'
Brandon felt himself burst with excitement in every part of his body, and he slid one hand in between their taut young bodies to pull at his quivering dick. He tugged on it in the same slow but firm thrusts of Mason's body, until he was firing off his long-held load, shooting cum up the abs of his beautiful lover, spilling droplets on himself, gasping into Mason's mouth and feeling that strong dick push deeper and deeper...
On fucked Greenwood, and it felt just as good in the glowing moments after orgasm. But just as Brandon began to silently wonder how much he could really take, he felt the twitching and shaking of the body on top of his, and he looked directly into Greenwood's loving eyes, and kissed him again. Go on, you fucking beauty,' he told him firmly. Come on, finish inside me, mmm yes...' His encouragement did the trick. A few more furtive shoves from Mason, picking up a little speed, and then he was collapsing forward, pressing his face into the crook of Brandon's neck and shoulder and kissing his collarbone and biting back his climactic scream.
Brandon knew there was a sensible condom between them, yet still the excitement of containing his friend's orgasm inside his hole was wild and enervating. He clung to the big body on top of his and panted into Mason's shoulder in return, their bodies interlocking by limb and privates, until they very gently pulled apart and then kissed once more.
The buzzing of the hotel room phone on the table between the two beds was jarring and unexpected, and it made both lads jerk aside awkwardly as if discovered in their erotic embrace. Brandon couldn't move, just lying there with a vague numb throbbing in his arse, but Mason rolled across and reached a long lean-muscled arm over to snatch the archaic landline up off its plastic cradle and to his ear.
`'Ello?' the Yorkshire lad grunted into the phone, impatiently.
Brandon could hear the voice on the other end. Fucking hell,' came Mata's Spanish drawl down the line, what the hell, boys...' Brandon found a chill run over his naked form, and he reached a nervous hand for Mason's shoulder as he listened in. `Who the hell gave you two got in there?' demanded Juan's grumpy voice.
`Oh, er...'
I do not want to know, in fact! Boys! Get those girls kicked out and GET SOME SLEEP,' the angry Spaniard grumbled into the phone, but... please... no more noise! Some of us need to sleep!' Then some vague swearing in what was probably Spanish, and the click of a phone going down. Mason hung there at the side of the bed, staring dumbly at the receiver in his hand and then back at Brandon, whose jaw had dropped open.
At the same time, the lads burst from tense uncertainty to secretive mirth, quietly cackling into the pillows and pulling their bodies close together. Oh dear,' Williams groaned, I hope my noises aren't THAT girly... were they...? Shit...'
I'm glad if they were,' teased Mason, nuzzling against his face and pulling in close and grasping the duvet up and over their bare bodies. You sexy little girl... hehe...' Kisses brushed their lips in between bursts of sniggering, all much quieter after the chastising phone call.
A few feet away, Juan Mata turned over in bed, further irritated by the muffled sounds of laughter leaking through the thin hotel walls. Fucking English boys!' he exclaimed into his pillow, his back to his roommate, pulling the duvets further up over him and trying to forget his grumpy intervention after too long listening to the vague creaks and moans beyond that wall. The Spanish football icon buried into his nest and tried his best to sleep, and it was hard to really tell from his ragged breaths whether he was quickly successful, or just taking a fake it til you make it' approach to getting his rest tonight.
In the next bed, Dan James lay very still, on his back, staring up at the ceiling.
He too had been irritated by the growling moans and little yelps audible through the thin plasterboard of the wall. He too had lay sleeplessly for longer than he would like, warm and irritable beneath the sheets, high on adrenaline from an exciting victory and his own goal contribution to the Europa league progression. But he was not in quite the same position as his grumpy older roommate, because he was a lot less sure there were any nubile young females in the neighbouring hotel room. He'd only heard quite deep sounds in that muffled cacophony, and he had sneaking suspicions that there might not be any women present at all...
He knew Mason Greenwood has his urges from intimate, albeit dizzy and half-repressed, experience. That bright-eyed young talent was certainly somewhere on a spectrum of bisexuality, he'd seen it with his own eyes. Tasted it with his own lips. He pursed the dry lips of his mouth and tried not to lick them moist at that thought, biting back those dizzy fragments of memory, coke-fuelled or tipsy in strange rooms, under Harry Maguire's frowning command.
No... Unlike Mata, he had not been so sure that the teenagers in the next room were noisy in their pursuit of some local Austrian fanny. Not likely. He thought he could imagine what might have gone on in the next room, and it was irritating and worrying him beyond words. He wanted nothing more to do with that mess! He'd really thrown himself into his relationship with his girlfriend lately, though he'd also cheated on her with four different hot lasses on the Manchester club scene as well, desperate to reassure himself that the stupid experimental phase was OVER.
But if it was so over, he asked himself in the dark, why were his bedsheets tented by a raging boner right now?
He grunted irritably and did the same as Mata, turning away and pulling the covers more tightly over him, and shutting out another dim little tinkle of laughter through the thin wall, hoping it was all over, and there weren't more overheard monas to come! For fuck's sake, dirty buggers, what were they playing at? He clenched his eyes shut and held his hands at his side, keeping them away from the crotch of his PJs, where his dick throbbed and leaked precum against the fabric.
That phase over. Totally over. Completely done with.
And then his hand was on his cock, and he was wanking, picturing what he suspected had happened next door, silently pulling his sensitive young dick until he came in his hand and on the bedding. He pushed his face further into the pillow, bit back his little moan, and hated himself. Why the fuck couldn't he stop imagining it?