Date: Wed, 8 Jan 2014 23:37:42 -0500
From: ACD x <playoffwriter@outlook.com>
Subject: NFL playoffs 2014 (part 2)

NFL playoffs 2014 (part 2)

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and is not intended to imply anything
about the true sexuality of the celebrities mentioned or any personal
knowledge about their private lives.


AFC Wild Card - Chargers vs. Bengals - Cincinnati, OH

It hadn't taken long for Eric Weddle to pick this week's victim.

You could sense how hungry the Cincinnati crowd was for a win. Sure, the
team had been to the playoffs the last couple years, but both years had
failed to break past the wild card round, and in any case those games had
been down in Houston, and by the time the fans turned off their TVs in
disgust it was like the Bengals hadn't made the postseason at all. So all
eyes were on the field as the Cincinnati kicker stepped back to kick off
the first playoff game in Cincinnati since 2009.

Eric's eyes were on the kicker too. The big Chargers safety, turned 29 the
day before the game, might be considered by some to have passed his peak,
but in truth Eric had never felt quite so alive as he did this season. He'd
been growing out his beard all season almost in defiance of his progressing
age, as if daring the world to call him mature. He was making big plays as
always, helping to carry his team to an improbable playoff berth. He still
cut a mean figure in his Chargers uniform -- biceps seeming to explode from
under his shoulder pads, massive quads and glutes stretching his lycra
football pants tight, ready to explode him forward to break up a pass, cut
midsection clear beneath Eric's stretched-taut jersey. When Eric made a big
play, he became something primal, roaring as he flexed his entire upper
body in exultation, veins popping from each thick muscle. Yeah, this safety
stud was still in his prime.

Oh, and now Eric was fucking a guy on the losing team every time San Diego
notched a W.

It hadn't started as a regular thing, just a little run-in with
Philadelphia's rookie QB Matt Barkley outside the stadium after the
Chargers' win in Week 2. The blond stud out of USC was so eager to learn,
so eager to fit into the league, that he lapped up the attention from a
seasoned pro like Eric Weddle. And even though Eric's style was a little
more brash than the conservative rookie, Matt found that outsized
personality strangely appealing...so much so that he was soon lapping up
more than attention, Barkley bent on his knees in Weddle's hotel room
sucking his first pro-jock dick. As Weddle held Barkley's head down on his
cock, not-so-subtly "encouraging" the young QB to swallow his load, the
thought crossed through his mind that this might not be a bad motivator at
all.

Eric never forced it, just let the guys come to him. He was often surprised
by which hard-muscled jock he ended up claiming as his prize, but always
just rolled with it. And so he'd ended up fucking three loads out of Dez
Bryant's perfect round ass in Week 4; wrestling the thickly-muscled and
heavily tatted Colts linebacker Pat Angerer into submission, then fucking
that 235-pound Iowa bull for hours in Week 6; then, with considerably
greater effort in Week 7, turning out Jags linebacker Paul Posluszny, who
after two hours of whiskey and guy talk at Poz's place in J'ville suddenly
came around to the view that his massive neck was perfectly built for
swallowing Eric's thick 10 inches to the hilt. Weeks later, the Charger
stud still got hard in his jeans thinking about his come dribbling down
over Poz's impossibly square jaw, the handsome pro linebacker smiling as
his tongue slid out to lick Eric's jizz off the corner of his lip.

Post-bye week, Weddle came back to the field hornier and hungrier than
ever. After three straight losses and three straight weeks without a
payoff, Eric damn near split Jamaal Charles apart when the Chargers came
out on top despite the stud running back's 2 TDs and 150 yards.  Eric took
Jamaal right in the Chiefs locker room, just shoved the All-Pro's uniform
and jock down to his knees and drove himself deep, Jamaal's dreads bouncing
in time with his meaty pecs and rock-hard cock as Eric delivered one
gut-pounding thrust after another. Since then it had been all fucking, all
the time for Eric: ultra-ripped Giants kicker Steve Weatherford took him
deep at home in San Diego, pretty-boy Broncos backup QB Brock Osweiler let
Eric fuck him right in front of Brock's girlfriend in Denver, and the
Oakland QB and former Buckeye star Terrelle Pryor bent over in his hotel
room and let Eric drill him till Terrelle couldn't walk straight (not that
it mattered the way the Raiders' season was going). When the Chiefs' scrubs
fell again to San Diego in the final week, Eric opted to go with one of his
own teammates instead and fucked Phil Rivers till the good ol' boy
quarterback was begging his safety to come deep inside him.

And now, as the clock rolled down to 0:00 in Cincinnati, Eric strode
confidently across the field, his target locked.

"Good game, bro."

The Bengals kicker, Mike Nugent, looked up. At first he wasn't sure the big
Charger was even talking to him. The kicker wasn't usually the first stop
on anybody's post-game handshake list. But as he caught the look in Eric's
eye he knew that not only was the guy talking to him, he had more than
talking in mind. Mike grinned, clasped Eric's outstretched hand, and met
him in a classic bro-hug.

...if the classic bro-hug were normally followed by a quick, open-palm
squeeze of one bro's hard muscle butt. Weddle winked, and Nugent grinned
wider. "You too, bud."

Mike had been in the league long enough. He knew how this worked. He was a
good-looking guy, all-American boy, firm, well-muscled body, great ass like
most kickers. He knew exactly what Eric Weddle wanted, and he knew exactly
what Eric was gonna get. "You looked sick out there today." The scruffy
safety shrugged in false modesty, keeping his eyes locked on Mike. The
handsome blond kicker lowered his voice. "Lookin' pretty good right now
too."

Eric wasn't much for flirting. "You free tonight?" Mike nodded, and Eric
clapped him on the shoulder. "Good. Come by my room in a couple hours." And
he tucked a hotel key card scrawled in marker with a room number into
Nugent's uniform pants before turning and screaming in celebration at a
couple of his teammates.

The wild Charger jock's intensity didn't let up from there. The door of
that room in downtown Cincy had barely closed before Eric Weddle was on his
prey like a cat, kissing Mike Nugent hard, his hands instantly sliding
around to grab Mike's round ass through the kicker's sweats. He groped the
hot Bengal's butt roughly, possessively. "I was watchin' you all game,
bro," Eric hissed into Mike's ear. Nugent could feel the scratch of the
safety's stubble against his own clean-shaven cheek. "Ain't normally my
type, usually like a guy who'll fight back a little, Gio Bernard type..."


Nugent felt his dick surge into his sweats as he imagined this ripped
safety fucking his muscle-plated teammate's gorgeous round ass, the
insanely swole rookie out of Carolina howling in pleasure as Weddle
bottomed out in his cherry jock ass. It was easy enough to imagine as he
felt Eric's thick, insistent prick grinding against his own tight
abs...this dude didn't hold back, did he? Well. It'd just make it sweeter
when he ended up turning Weddle out like all the others.


"I'll fight back more'n you might think," the hard-bodied kicker whispered
back. His own hands were sneaking backward, grasping Weddle's firmly
muscled obliques, then pausing on his lower back, just above where the
safety's own impressive ass bulged out into his mesh shorts.


Eric didn't seem to notice. "Yeah, I bet you will," he continued, licking
and biting at Mike's neck. He was gonna spear this little muscle jock like
a shish kebab. He could already felt that plump, round ass swallowing his
rock-hard dick. "Bet you'll fight for about ten fuckin' seconds before
you're beggin' for this dick." The crown of Eric's beast poked into Mike's
stomach like an iron crowbar.


"Oh...I wouldn't be so sure, bud." Suddenly Eric seemed to notice what his
prize was actually saying, and pulled back, staring into Mike's blue-gray
eyes. Only a moment later he noticed two other things -- one, that Mike
Nugent's own cock was just as rock-hard in his sweats and was grinding just
as insistently against Eric's own rippling stomach, and two, that Mike's
hand had slipped beneath the waistband of Eric's shorts and was slowly
stroking and rubbing the tight, untouched entrance to the NFL pro safety's
ass.


Eric stopped moving. "Look, man, I don't know who you think you got here."

The kicker hadn't slowed down, his cockhead grazing Eric's abs, his finger
massaging the other jock's hole. "I know who you think you got. But I think
that's gonna be the first of many surprises tonight."


Weddle pulled back, standing there staring dumbly at the grinning Bengal,
his dick still aching painfully into his mesh shorts.  "The fuck?" was all
he could say. "You're telling me you top?"


Nugent shoved his sweats down, groping his fat 9 inches, throbbing hard
into his grip. Eric had to admit it was a hot fucking cock. "You're gonna
love feeling this inside you."


The big safety was bewildered. "You gotta be shitting me."

Nugent's smile faded just a little. How much to say here? How many stories
would Mike have to tell before this raw, horny-as-fuck safety would believe
that there was no way this kicker was getting fucked tonight? Mike Nugent
had been fucking pro-jock "top only" studs since he arrived in the Queen
City back in 2010. The first had been Carson Palmer, the veteran QB who
took Mike back to his place thinking he'd fuck the kid but ended up
entranced by Mike's confidence and in the end loving the hard fuck the
muscular kicker threw just as much as Mike said he would.  TO followed
shortly after that, the brash facade disappearing as soon as Owens felt
that thick, hot length of dick sliding inside his tight ass.  And one
drunken night that ended with Ocho Cinco kneeling on the floor, ass up with
Mike's hard prick pistoning in and out of the cocky receiver's
never-touched cunt, Chad growling pleas for more dick between low moans of
pleasure, Mike Nugent began to believe he could fuck any guy he wanted.


And so he had -- till now. "There's no fucking way you're gonna fuck me,
dude," Eric Weddle said, ice in his voice. It was enough to make the smile
drop completely from the kicker's handsome face -- he could tell this one
was different. And there was something about the way Mike was looking at
Eric that made him pretty damn sure this wasn't any ordinary bottom-slut
kicker.


"Well, fuck," Mike said. "The fuck are we gonna do?" Both guys were still
rock-hard, desperate to get off, Eric's prick prodding into his Chargers
shorts like a circus tentpole, Mike's curving beautifully into the open
air, already dripping pre-jizz down the long shaft.


Then a rap came from the door.

A spark of realization came over Eric's face, then the glow of an idea in
his eyes. "Totally fuckin' forgot! Wait right here." He bounced over to the
door, his cock wagging obviously into his shorts as he went. He flung the
door open wide.


"Yesss," the Charger safety breathed, his lips spreading in a broad smile.

The two early-20s guys standing there with two carts full of Eric's massive
room-service order didn't really know how to react to that. One of them, a
handsome brown-haired kid who more than decently filled out the navy hotel
uniform, spoke up. "Evening, sir. You ordered...all this?"


"Yeah," Eric said, still grinning, just looking at the kid. The kid looked
back, his expression breaking into an awkward smile.  He cast a sidelong
glance at his buddy, a cute blond, built smaller than the first guy but in
good shape, as if to say, You got any idea what the fuck's going here? But
the blond looked nervous and kept glancing down, then averting his eyes. It
was only then that the brown-haired stud noticed Eric's cock aching
beautifully into the football star's mesh shorts. And by that point, the
blond was already looking over Eric's shoulder to see Mike Nugent standing
there in nothing but a t-shirt, the cute kicker stroking his thick 9
inches.


"Fuck..." the blond whispered. He felt his own cock swelling rapidly into
his briefs, and couldn't help noticing that Brown Hair's hand had fallen to
his own crotch and was slowly groping his own rapidly thickening prick.


"You can leave the food," Eric said. "I think we got everything we need
right here." He opened the door a bit wider; the guys gave each other one
glance, a smile sneaking across both their faces.  They went in.