Date: Sun, 8 Oct 2006 02:15:08 -0500
From: nickwhatever@juno.com
Subject: Golden Balls Part Four

DISCLAIMER: The writer in no way questions the actual sexuality of the
athletes/celebrities involved. Any situations and incidents are purely
fictional and in no way reflect actual events. The writer also holds no
license agreement to the following actors, teams, organizations and/or
movies that may be mentioned. All persons and films are a copy write
and/or are the property of the people, organizations and films
themselves. The author in no way holds or maintains any rights to films,
athletes and actors.



Part Four

	Troy Aikman greeted John Haritan warmly as the college athlete was
invited into Aikman's hotel sweet.  "Glad you could make it," Aikman
grinned capturing Haritan's extended hand in a firm grip.
	"Shit," Haritan beamed, "I wouldn't have missed this opportunity in the
world.  I couldn't believe it when you singled me out and offered help."
	"I've seen you," in those hot modeling photos, "you play and you're damn
good."  Aikman ventured.  "Thought I'd just help a rising star out."
Aikman indicated a chair near the balcony, "have a seat bro'."  Aikman
walked to a small bar and smiled at Haritan as he sat back and chilled in
the chair.  "Drink?"
	"Ah," Haritan wasn't supposed to drink alcohol the night before a game
but this was a special occasion.  "Sure," he nodded.
	"What'll you have," Aikman reached into the small 'fridge and pulled out
a beer for himself.
	"Beer is fine," Haritan's eyes were eating up Aikman.  The NFL star was
wearing sweat pants and a wife beater.  His incredible muscles were
intimately outlined by the shirt and Haritan loved the way Aikman's
massive muscles bulged and tensed from his simple movements of preparing
a drink.
	Aikman pulled out a second bottle of beer.  "Two beers it is," he moved
around to the small couch and sprawled out comfortably, throwing his legs
out and spreading them wide.  The beers were placed on the small coffee
table.  As Haritan sat forward and grasped one, his eyes lingered a bit
on Aikman's large bulge at the apex of his large muscular legs.
	Aikman took a drink from his bottle before speaking.  "Glad to see that
you aren't so uptight about your coach's rules for a game."
	"Not usually," Haritan shrugged.  He took a drink from his bottle.
	Aikman watched his lips purse on the bottle lip and imagined the hot
college stud's lips doing the same thing on his cock.  "Rules are made to
be bent," he chuckled.  "Shit," he dramatized, "I remember the no sex
shit well."
	Haritan took another sip of beer nervously.  The conversational turn to
sex embarrassed him a bit.  Not particularly because he was some prude,
but rather because he was throwing a major boner for the man sitting
opposite him.
	"Our coach used to really cut us off from any female temptation."  He
rolled his bottle in his grip.  "'Course," Aikman deliberately
insinuated.  "There were other ways of getting off."
	Haritan was raising his bottle to his lips but his hand stilled at
Aikman's words.  Haritan wasn't exactly sure what Aikman wanted him to
say.  "I guess you and the other dudes jerked off a lot."  He finally
said.
	Aikman grinned and shrugged, "that too."
	Haritan lowered the bottle to rest between his muscular thighs and toyed
with the bottle rather than look at Aikman.  He was horned as hell just
thinking of Aikman fucking around with another dude.
	"A hole is a hole," Aikman voiced nonchalantly, "right bro'?"
	Haritan looked up and met Aikman's compelling gaze.  Aikman was smiling
and Haritan wasn't sure if he was being serious of just bull shitting
him.
	Aikman took Haritan's confused expression and silence to mean that
Haritan was cherry.  "You never fucked around with a dude before."
Aikman chuckled, "a hot dude like you?  I bet tons of fags would be
willing to go down on you."
	Haritan's throat was dry and his palms were clammy.  "You ever let a fag
go down on you."
	"Hell yeah," Aikman chuckled, "the best god damn bj's I get are from
fags."  Aikman began to real the hottie in, "'course, it doesn't have to
be a fag.  I've fucked around with a few team mates."  Haritan gulped.
Aikman continued fishing.  "It doesn't necessarily mean that were queer."
 He shrugged again, "just two dudes helping each other out; making each
other feel good."  Aikman sat forward and rest his elbows on his bent
knees while he casually held the beer bottle between his legs.  "I bet
the fags were crawling out of the work works after you did that shoot for
Abrocrombie and Finch."
	Haritan blushed but couldn't deny that he'd scored a hell of a lot of
cock because of those pictures.
	Aikman nodded knowingly, conspiratorially, "come on dude, you can tell
me."
	"Yeah," Haritan replied softly.
	"Yeah?" bingo!  Aikman caught a fish.  "Tell me about it dude."
	Haritan shifted in his seat, his boner was straining in his jeans.  "I
don't know," he shrugged off.  "It was the usual shit."
	"Bj's? Fucking? All of that shit?"  Aikman laughed humorously.
	"I've sucked a few guys off," Haritan revealed.  A few was actually a
hell of lot of them.
	"Yeah?" Aikman tilted his head in half speculation and half disbelief.
"You any good?"
	"I don't know," Haritan demurred awkwardly.  He wished like hell that he
could suck Aikman off.  However, he was afraid to make the suggestion.
He still wasn't sure if Aikman was being serious with him or was pulling
his leg.
	"Come on dude," Aikman gave him a lop sided grin.  "The dudes you blew
must have gave you some indication."
	"I guess I was good," Haritan was embarrassed to be talking about
sucking cock with the NFL legend.  No matter how much he wanted to swing
on Aikman's boner, what they should have been discussing was football.
	"Damn," Aikman sat back in awe.  "Dudes who suck cock always know how to
work it."  Aikman chuckled and casually lowered one hand to lightly cup
his package.
	"Uh," Haritan interjected awkwardly, "I could do with another brew."
	"Well," Aikman suddenly became serious.  "I could do with a hot bj."
Haritan tensed with disbelief.  Aikman cupped his package firmly.
"Forget about the beer and suck down this instead."  Aikman spread his
legs a bit and held Haritan's gaze.
	Haritan bit his lower lip to stop from licking his lip.  Aikman could be
serious, but of course, he could be setting Haritan up.  Could he throw
away the possible opportunity of a life time or was he about to really
humiliate himself?  What the hell?!  Haritan set his empty bottle on the
table and stood.  He moved around the table as Aikman watched him
intently.  Haritan stood over Aikman between his spread out stretched
legs.  His hands were clammy and his heart was racing.  Haritan thought
Aikman was the hottest dude from the NFL, past or present.  And now......
	Aikman smugly smiled.  "Get down on your knees and suck it boi!"


Los Angeles California;
	"Good.....thing....you......showed.....up....early," Brett Favre pumped
his thick cock between the round cheeks of Lachey's perfect glutes.
"Yeahhhhh," he pummelled the singer's hot hard ass.
	"Ughhh," Lachey grunted, gyrating back against Favre's pistoning cock.
"No.....shittttttt," Lachey was tightly gripping Peyton Manning's
muscular hips and was seesawing with Favre's thrusts, stretching
Manning's ass chute with his own pulsing shaft.
	"Ughhh," Manning gritted and grunted, bent a bit, with his hands braced
upon the top of a dresser.  He worked his chute around Lachey's thrusting
cock.  He wiggled his butt and roughly punched back against Lachey's flat
hard pelvis.
	"Fuck yeahhhh," Lachey growled, "take my fat cock bro'!"
	"Feed....it...to....me.....dude," Manning panted, his thick neck muscles
tense as he worked his rectum muscles-sucking Lachey's fat shaft deeper
and deeper.  "Breed my ass!"
	"Tight......ass," Favre dug his fingers into Lachey's hips and thrust
faster.  His balls whacked against Lachey's whose rocked with Manning's.
	"A....football....fuckin'.....chain," Lachey moaned and panted as he
rocked with Favre and Manning rocked with him.
	Favre leaned forward, pressing against Lachey's muscular V-shaped back
and ground hard against the bubble butt.  He licked Lachey's shoulder
blade and moved one hand up around Manning and hauled his hips back so
they were a tight chain fuck.
	Manning was breathing hard.  His head was lowered and his eyes were
tightly shut.  He constricted and convulsed his chute pulling Lachey
deeper and deeper.  "Fuck me dude!"  He gritted through clenched teeth.
"Harder!"
	"Yeah!," He whooshed, pounding harder.  "I want....it....deep tooooooo,"
he rallied Favre to pulverize his ass.  "Work that cock Brett!  Come on
dude!"
	"Yeah?"  Favre panted pumping faster and faster.
"You...want...it...rawwwww!"
	The three men were like a locomotive, pistoning in rhythm, rushing
faster and faster.  Their hips and pelvises moved in union, building
sweat all over their hard muscular bodies.  Lachey hadn't fucked like
this since he and Jeff tag teamed his brother Drew shortly after forming
their group.  Drew was tight but fuck; Manning was tighter!
	Favre couldn't believe the ripped muscle boi Lachey had been willing to
bottom out.  He took the former Mr. Jessica Simpson as a total top.  But
Lachey had been practically begging for.  His tight ass was a perfect
fit.
	Manning considered him self lucky as hell, fucked by both hot studs!
He'd wanted to be fucked by more than one dude since he first made the
NFL draft.  It was just too damn bad that his hungry hole wasn't being
reamed by his entire team.  Fuck!  That would be hot as hell!  Even
better would be a two cocks down his throat and two up his ass!  Fuck!
His balls were churning.  His cock was pulsing.  Fuck!  It felt as his
balls were ready to ex....."Fuckkkkkkkk," he wailed!  His body tensed and
his cock jerked in the air before his cock head swelled and exploded.
"Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhh," his cum rocketed from his flared piss slit
splattering the dresser and the carpeted floor.  Lachey and Favre
pistoned faster.  Manning grunted and growled as his cock emptied like a
volcano of spoog.  When the last drops pushed forward, his cock was sore
and he winced with relief.
	"I'm gonna fill you boi," Manning growled as his hips tensed and his
cock spasmed.  "Shittttttttttttttttttt," he threw his head back and
flooded Lachey's chute full of NFL spoog.  "Take
itttttttttttttttttttttttttttt," he ground into Lachey's glutes, making
sure the boi took all of his stuff.
	"Feed it to me bro'!"  Lachey panted.  "Flood my ass out!"  Lachey bit
his lower lip.  "Oh yeah, give it to me.  Give it all to me!"  Lachey
clenched his rectum muscles and tried to suck up all the juice in his
warm tingling ass.  "Fuck!," Lachey shivered.  "I'm gonna....I'm
gonna.......shootttttttttttttttttttt," Lachey's balls tingled and seemed
to twist as his cock jettisoned ropes of cum deep in Manning's ass.   He
growled like an animal and wrapped his arms around Manning's waist
holding the NFL player to him as his cock exploded.
	"Oh yeahhhhh," Manning hissed pushing back on Lachey, "shoot it dude!
Shoot it deep in my ass!"
	Lachey and Favre pumped until cum was running down in gushes between the
three of them.  Spoog was running down both Manning's and Lachey's red
raw asses.  The men gasped for breath and their heart rate slowly
decreased.  Favre pulled from Lachey and his ass lips leaked spoog down
the crack of his ass.  Lachey held within Manning while Favre lowered to
his knees and began to lick his fuck buddies clean.


 London, England

	David Beckham had joined his wife Victoria in London for the party
rounds.  They had received numerous dinner invitations but it was Harry
Kewel and his wife Sheree in their London penthouse.  After the dinner
accompanied with friendly conversation, the wives became enamored with
talk of fashion and babies so the men excused themselves to Kewel's game
room.  The men were standing near the full bar watching a big screen TV
of past football matches.  Both had imbibed on several  drinks and were
chilling over the game.
	Kewel commented on some play by Michael Owen.  "Heard he was just as
good in bed," Kewel ended.
	Beckham just smiled and continued gazing at the screen.
	"Heard you fucked around with him," Kewel continued.
	Beckham glanced at Kewel with a cheeky grin.  "Yeah, I fucked him," he
emphasized.  "Nice tight arse," he said in pleasure at the recollection.
	Kewel nodded.  "Heard you fuck around a lot with dudes."
	Beckham shrugged in good nature.  "I like sex and get it where I can."
He took a sip of his drink and Kewel grinned at him.
	"So," Kewel said conspiratorially, "what I heard about you and Gav
Henson is true."
	"Now there was a tight arse," Beckham grinned.
	"You must fuck a mean arse," Kewel grinned.
	"No complaints, mate," Beckham nodded smugly.
	"So," Kewel gave Beckham a curious glance, "who fucks Beck's arse?"
	Beckham nodded, "I bottom out some times."
	"Yeah?" Kewel switched off the TV.
	"I only take a ride on prime meat," Beckham glanced to the closed door
separating them from the rest of the house.
	"The girls will be talking for hours," Kewel feignly lamented.
	"Probably so," Beckham agreed, catching Kewel's drift.
	"Think your bum's interested in some Aussie shaft," Kewel moved one hand
and rubbed his bulge.
	"Think that Aussie shaft can handle this hot arse?"  Beckham challenged.
	"I think," Kewel unzipped his Armani slacks and hauled out his ten inch
uncut cock, "I'm gonna fuck your arse raw, mate."
	Beckham looked at the cock growing in Kewel's grasp.  The foreskin was
pulled back tightly and a mushroom head glistened under the track
lighting.  Beckham abruptly stood, walked to the door and locked it.
Kewel watched as Becks moved to the large leather sofa.  He undid his own
slacks and pushed them down his famous muscular legs.  Kicking them from
his feet, he followed suite with his boxers and his own hard cock sprung
free and bounced upwards against his flat cut stomach.  Becks stroked it
and looked at Kewel.  Slowly he sat down upon the leather sofa and leaned
back.  Hauling up his legs until his knees were bend, he moved his
athletic legs apart and exposed his pulsing pucker.  Kewel's gaze was hot
on it as Becks lowered a hand and began rubbing it with his fingers.
	"So," Becks pulled his cheeks apart and exposed some of the inner wet
pink flesh of his ring, "you think that cock can take this smokin' bum?"
	Kewel stroked his hard cock.  A drop of pre-cum glistened at the piss
slit.  He began to walk to the couch, caressing his shaft.  "I think that
your quim is cryin' for this mate."
	"Yeah?" Beckham inched a finger slowly between the pursed lips.  "I'm
ready for it mate."
	"Yeah," Kewel sneered, "but this," he pulled up on his shaft until it
bounced against his ripped stomach, "is a hell of a lot bigger mate."
	Beckham threw his head back against the back of the couch and hiked his
legs up even more.  He gazed at Kewel hotly and invitingly.  Kewel pushed
the coffee table before the couch away with his powerful leg and foot.
He moved before Becks and rocked forward until his knees rested against
the edge of the seat cushion.  He gripped his cock at the base and
arrowed the shaft down toward Becks hungry quim.  He nudged the mushroom
head against the puckered ring and prepared to feed it to Becks.

to be continued........