Date: Sat, 4 Mar 2017 07:14:10 +0000
From: Christopher Hudson <christopherhudson1970@gmail.com>
Subject: WHEN SATURDAY CUMS 19

Will Brandt had quite expected to leave Gareth Hicks for good that evening,
to say goodbye and never return, but that was not how things turned out.
The footballer -- who these days (with his easy bucks, flash car and
celebrated status) had perhaps grown used to getting his own way --
persuaded his lover to stay, despite the fact that he himself had no idea
how they were going to solve their present dilemma. All the same, he gave
the *appearance* of knowing and to Will (who at this point appeared more
vulnerable than he had ever done in his life) that was all that mattered
for now. Reality would soon dawn, of course, but just at this moment it
seemed that the self-deception of fame was enough to last through the night
to come (and possibly a day or two more beyond). After that -- well, as
Gareth himself had pointed out, something (or someone) would answer their
prayers. And for now that appeared to be enough to calm Will's fears, as he
buried his head into Gareth's safe, muscular chest.

               Two whole days passed. Two whole days of prevarication, when
the footballer seemed almost content to pretend that nothing was wrong. The
matter before them was hardly discussed -- although Will did catch the man
scouring the papers for any evidence of a forthcoming revelation. Instead,
they passed their time away in much the same manner as usual -- swimming,
eating, making love, watching telly. Everything, it appeared, except facing
the one singular, most important problem that they had ever encountered as
a couple -- and that, for Will, was soon an intolerable state of affairs.

               On the Tuesday night the Dutch lad finally broke his part in
the silence, with a revelation of his own that sent shivers down Gareth's
spine. He was returning to Holland, he had decided. He was finally doing
what he should probably have done a couple of years ago, when his
relationship with Drew had first set into terminal decline, but it was
still a decision, that, under the circumstances, he made with almost
stomach-wrenching reluctance. He loved Gareth dearly -- he loved him more
than he had ever loved anyone, indeed more than he would probably *ever*
love anyone! But he now felt that he could no longer cope with the enormous
pressure that continuing the relationship entailed, and although leaving
England was very much a cop-out (as the footballer was only too keen to
highlight), he saw no other alternative laid before him. Running away was
his only option -- and to a weak and insecure individual such as Will
Brandt, it gained an attraction with every passing hour.

               They did not fuck that night. Instead, they fell to sleep in
Gareth's bed with their backs to each other -- always a bad sign, of course.
Nevertheless, when the soccer-ace awoke early the following morning, he
felt he could no longer hold back the intense emotions that Will conjured
up in his psyche. After all, he had longed all his life to meet someone
like Will, someone who gave a meaning to his life of material success, and
although he was angry with the boy's decision to leave, he still understood
the reason behind it. Indeed, if the roles were reversed -- if *he* was the
lonely stranger in a foreign land and Will was the famous footballer whom
everyone worshipped and for whom life was just so fucking blessed -- would
he not do exactly the same? Would *he* not want to return to his bolt-hole?
-- a question that, if anything, made him almost jealous of the youngster,
who had the opportunity to escape the claustrophobic environment that fame
and fortune brought with them.

               The younger lad was sound asleep as Gareth turned to face
him, with a slight smile on his cute, young face that disguised the anguish
that was presently awash in his mind. Indeed, such was his look of
contentment that the footballer instinctively refrained from waking him --
choosing instead to gently pull away the duvet slightly so that he might
feast on the sight of Will's gorgeous body (which he just knew he was going
to miss like fuck if the Dutchman proved true to his promise of returning
to Holland). Indeed, it came as little surprise to the athlete that he
himself should quickly begin to support possibly one of the stiffest
hard-ons in his life by just observing the lad in such illusive innocence,
and with an almost instinctive response, he found his hand trailing down
his own handsome body in search of the raging hardness that now encompassed
his crotch.

               As he did so, however, Will appeared to stir, tossing
himself over so as he now half-faced Gareth -- who held his breath (unsure,
as he was, as to whether the lad would wake or not). As it happened,
however, the fine-featured fellow remained unconscious -- a heavy breath on
his part appearing to signal a return to his heavily comatose state --
leaving the star to an even finer view of the Dutchman's form, which itself
was half-aroused. Indeed, Gareth could not help but wonder what sordid
dreams were flitting before his lover at that point -- what depraved
pleasures of the flesh were dancing around in his brain, filling his juicy
cock with blood and churning his tight, hairy balls in the process.

               Gareth could not resist reaching out to touch his
boyfriend's young, smooth, tempting skin -- gently brushing his fingers over
the guy's chest and then down across his midriff. Will, however, slept on,
and continued to do so even as his lover's hand pushed back up his body,
flicking his dark, erect nipples in the process. Nothing, it seemed, could
wake him, content as he was in his dreams, so it was perhaps no wonder that
Gareth's sharp eyes should fall upon the lad's most precious organ, as he
queried to himself whether physical contact with his cock might yet be
possible.

               He edged himself down the bed a little, so that Will's shaft
was in direct reach, but he did not touch the half-swollen member straight
off. Instead, he began to play with the lad's curly mat of pubic hair,
which nature had provided him in a rather neat patch -- gently twisting the
strands around his fingers and savouring their rough touch around his hand.
Such playfulness seemed only to encourage Will's cock, which began to swell
even more than before -- but it did not wake him. Rather he slept on,
perhaps imagining that Gareth's fondling was but part of a tender fantasy,
from which he had no desire to escape.

               The footballer had always found Will's vulnerability
incredibly sexy -- perhaps because he spent his entire professional life
mixing with people who generally had no such lack of confidence -- and it
had never been more apparent than at this present moment. He drooled
involuntarily -- and not just from his mouth! After all, his knob-head was
almost bursting from excitement, as the blood rushed into his dick at such
a gross volume that it almost hurt, but a certain degree of relief appeared
to be wagered by the gentle stream of pre-cum that was now slobbering from
his piss-hole, oozing down onto the bed-sheet beneath him. No doubt about
it, that cleaning lady of his was gonna have her work cut out again if he
had *his* way!

               Gareth could no longer resist the urge to touch Will's
hardness, which was undeniably redder than it had been and the head of
which was finally prying from the top of its protective skin. So he finally
dared himself to grace his fingers along its generous length, glancing up
at Will's face to see whether the initial touch did anything to stir the
boy. For the moment, however, there appeared to be little indication of
consciousness, and with that recognition in mind, the footballer pushed
himself towards him, so that his face was now barely inches from that
gorgeous crotch that meant so much to him.

               He sniffed the pouch, in an almost animalistic manner --
taking a deep breath of the distinctive manly scent. Fucking hell, he'd had
hundreds of men in his time, but the guy was sure that he would recognise
Will's musky smell anywhere, and it was with almost a tear in his eye that
he now recognised the fact that he was going to miss his lover like crazy
(assuming the lad was true to his word and left). Nevertheless, Will
*hadn't* left yet -- and Gareth was indeed determined to make the most of
that. As such, he edged himself even closer to the fellow's manhood -- so
close, in fact, that Gareth thought he could almost hear the beat of the
young man's heart in his throbbing cock (a notion so erotic to him that he
simply couldn't resist touching any longer).

               The soccer-star reached forward and held the horn of so much
pleasure, glancing up at the young man as he did so --  knowing, as he did,
that such contact would disturb him. Indeed, it was little surprise that
Will's dark eyes should now open, as he perhaps realised that his sweet
dreams were in fact reality. Not that Gareth was going to allow him any
mileage at this point. He was determined to be as sensual as possible, and
raising himself above the lad, he shushed his protests.

               `Close your eyes,' he whispered, brushing his eyelids as he
did so, `and enjoy ...'

               For all his determination to leave, Will was still compliant
to his lover's request and willingly relaxed to such wanton attention. And
who the fuck could blame him? After all, he was about to be sucked off by
one of the sexiest stars in the footballing firmament -- the sort of
prospect that surely only a gelding would fail to find grossly encouraging!

               Gareth held that formidable rod in his hand now, gazing up
once again to ensure that the fellow still had his eyes closed, then leant
forward with an open mouth to slowly encompass the pulsing head. It was a
somewhat ginger move on his part, but it was not evidence of any reticence
on his part. Rather it was the result of his desire to savour the moment,
as he pulled the skin back in his mouth and fed on that swollen crest -- a
move that sent a shiver of considerable pleasure across the youngster's
handsome body, causing his to groan and part his legs in apparent
encouragement.

               `You like that ...?' the older lad murmured, seeing his
friend's response. `That good ...?'

               `Very ...' gasped Will.

               It had not been Gareth's intention to encourage him to
reply, however and once again he shushed him down -- this time by sitting up
and kissing him squarely on the lips. `You're supposed to be sleeping ...' he
reminded him softly, but the rich, salty taste from the footballer's mouth
had appeared to inspire the young man and his waggled his tongue
expectantly towards him (his eyes still tightly closed).

               Taking hold of the opportunity, Gareth bent down and began
to suck on the end of Will's tongue -- in a manner not at all dissimilar
from the way in which he sucked his cock just moments before. It was a move
that pleasured the Dutchman immensely -- or at least it appeared to be
judging from the smile on his face and the ever-bounding strain in his
groin -- and the footballer continued to feed off the muscle for a few
moments more. Eventually, however, the desire to regain control of the
lad's cock grew too much for the fellow and he returned his lustful
attention to the erect phallus, which by now was oozing with excitement.
With an open mouth and eager throat, he lapped at the offering -- a gargle
in his voice appearing only to underline the deep roll of comfort that the
organ was presently providing to his man-hungry libido.

               The Dutch salami slid deeper and deeper inside, so that its
crusty crest was finally almost bracing its lover's tonsils, whilst the
soccer-star's one hand cupped those fuzzy balls and rubbed the hairy
wrinkles with blatant affection. Truth was, the fellow loved the contents
of Will's copious cum-sac and the method he appeared to have now adopted
seemed only to confirm this point. After all, he knew only too well that
such vigorous sucking could result in but one thing, and when Gareth's
probing fingers moved their attention away from his lover's balls and down
towards his prostrate, the sticky point of no return was brought that much
nearer. A brave eruption was about to be aroused -- and Gareth, for one, was
not about to complain!

               The sweat was visibly rising on Will's smooth chest and he
was desperate to open his eyes and watch as the footballer slurped on the
contents of his nads -- but he clearly knew better than to disobey Gareth's
instructions. So instead he gasped and spluttered, as the first wad of cum
began to form at the base of his cock. `Oh God,' he sighed, imagining the
scene that was taking place below, `that is so good, Gareth. Fuck, that is
so, so good ...'

               As if to prove his point, he punctured the air with his
spunk -- except, as he quickly realised, it wasn't so much the open air that
he hit as the back of his boyfriend's throat! Not that he had much care to
note at that particular juncture, mind. All he could think about was the
pressure in his cock and balls, which was just aching for the sort of
release that perhaps only something like a good blow-job could provide.
Fortunately for him, Gareth was more than willing to supply such first-aid
to his member, gulping the man-honey down as quickly as Will could produce
it. Even so, some spillage was almost inevitable and the goo ultimately
began to trickle from his tight lips -- slithering down the Dutch lad's
shaft and matting itself into the fuzz below. Not that the athlete cared.
Sucking Will off had left him feeling incredibly horny, and having noted
that the guy's cock was finally spent, he slipped down to his lover's pubic
fuzz so as to lap away at the heavy drops of man-juice there deposited.

               The youngster, meantime, waited in fervent anticipation of
Gareth's next move -- his eyes still immersed in darkness, but his mouth now
drooling for the contact that he felt sure would now come. For having
realised that Gareth had taken his seed orally, he sensed that the
footballer would want to embark on a deep, fleshy kiss -- and he was not to
be disappointed.

               Not that the celebrity would allow Will to look even then --
a command that only added to the thrill of the moment, as the younger  guy
tasted his own spunk on his lips and slopped the manly nectar over his
teeth and gums. Nor would Gareth consent to any end to their playfulness as
they lay together afterwards, their bodies entwined in young love's
embrace. For it was as if breaking their amusement would signal the end of
their relationship -- an occurrence that neither man desired, but which each
realised was now perhaps an inevitability. As such, Will in particular was
overcome by a heady mix of happiness and confusion, as his mind flitted
between the two extremes of joy and despair. For lying together with his
man, his taste buds sodden with cum and his entire body tired and drained,
he realised then (more than at any previous point) that he was now sharing
a bed with a man not too dissimilar to Drew Michaels -- a man who (through
no fault of his own) had brought him much the same share of bliss and
grief. As such, it was precious little wonder that he had reached the
conclusion that leaving England was his sanest option, and burying his head
into the crook of his lover's arm, he sighed in the bitter recognition that
this was one tragic situation where the love of one man for another was
never going to prove to be enough.

               Will had no idea how long he had slept when he awoke the
second time -- but one thing quickly occurred to him before anything else
and that was that Gareth was no longer in bed with him. Instead, there was
a note on his lover's pillow, weighed down by the ring-box that that the
footballer had presented to him several days before (and which Will
himself, under the circumstances, had reluctantly been compelled to
return).

               With an uncertain heart, the lad reached out to read what
the man had written, but he was little the wiser even then. `Don't go
anywhere before I come back, love G,' was a significantly vague explanation
--  and perhaps lacked the sort of clarification that was needed to ensure
its purpose. Indeed, it was the ring (if anything) that held him back from
going -- that symbol of Gareth's true affection, that, in the privacy of the
moment, Will could not resist from slipping onto his finger for size. It
was, ironically enough, a perfect fit, but that hardly detracted from his
problems. For when all was said and done, it was but a roll of metal
(albeit a rather expensive one) and to Will it could barely overcome the
troubles of the moment. It would take more than a bit of jewellery to erase
the shadow of Drew Michaels from their lives, after all -- no matter how
hard they wished!

               Lord knows how much longer he laid there, drifting in and
out of his daydreams, wondering to himself where he had perhaps gone wrong
with Gareth and why the universe was quite so cruel, but the next thing he
was fully aware of was the sound of people talking in the room below.
Opening his eyes and listening even harder, he realised that there were two
voices -- one of which was clearly Gareth's. The other, however, remained
very much a mystery -- and would remain that way until (horror of horrors)
Will realised that the two men were now ascending the stairs and were about
to enter the bedroom.

               The lad's instinct was to try and dart into the en-suite
bathroom, but by the time he had realised what was happening it was already
too late. So instead he had little choice but to cover himself up with the
duvet and hope for the best -- wondering, as he did, who it was who Gareth
had brought to the house and indeed whether he himself would recognise the
person.

               To Will's immediate bewilderment, however, only Gareth
stepped into the room. But before he could make any manner of query, the
footballer had already begun his explanation.

               `Will,' he sighed, jumping onto the bed and grabbing hold of
the boy's hands, `I want you to know that I love you!'  The Dutchman was
now even more confused. `I know that ...' he finally stuttered.

               `No! I mean that I *love* you -- body and soul and all that
stuff! And I'm prepared to do anything to keep you ...'

               Will thought that that last statement sounded particularly
ominous and he could not help but glance towards the door. `Who is here,
Gareth?' he quizzed finally. `Who have you brought?'

               The footballer took a deep breath. `He's the only person I
know can help us now, Will ...'

               `Who is it, Gareth?' Will demanded again.

               `It's Todd Rankin.'

               `Todd Rankin? The team captain? But ...?'

               Gareth explained how he had told the skipper all about Will
when they had first met -- about how Todd had demanded an end to the
relationship, to which the striker had ultimately seceded. `... But I
couldn't live without you, Will,' he continued, `so I found out where you
lived through a contact at the club. That was when I came to see you -- but
I didn't tell Rankin any of this. In fact, up until about half an hour ago
he didn't even know we were still together!'

               `So, how can he help us exactly ...?'

               `He had contacts. He can deal with Drew --'

               A sudden moment of panic crossed the youngster's mind.
`Gareth, I don't want Drew hurt!' he insisted. `I might hate his guts for
what he's threatening to do, but --'

               Gareth shushed him down. `It's alright -- he won't kill him
or anything ...'

               `You promise?'

               `You have my word -- Drew won't be killed!'

               Will paused. `So, why is Todd Rankin here?' he asked finally
-- suspicion written across his sweet, young face.

               Gareth drew breath. `Us professional footballers have rules.
And one of them, as you know, is that we're not allowed to have relations
with any man outside the game. It's too dangerous, as you know ...

               `Hence our problem!' Will added knowingly.

               `So ...' his lover drooled.

               The Dutchman laughed. `He wants to fuck me, does he not?' he
remarked.

               `What makes you think that?'

               `It is his price. You cannot offer him money -- he does not
need it. But you can offer him what he otherwise would not have: a young,
handsome guy from beyond your little world of football, who would normally
not be able to obtain ...'

               Gareth kissed him. `I love you so much, Will -- I would do
anything to keep you ...'

               `So I can see,' the lad smiled. `Fortunately, I feel the
same way about you -- so yes, he can fuck me.

               `But on one condition!' he then immediately added.

               The soccer-star looked perplexed. `What's that?' he
questioned.

               `As I said, that he doesn't hurt Drew. Fix him, yes -- but
not hurt him. I mean, I did love him once ...'

               Gareth gave his word as the man who loved him more than any
other would *ever* love him, then called for Todd to enter the room,
removing the note and ring-box that were still lying on the bed. After all,
he needed to clear the decks for the buffing to come -- even if he (for
once) was not to be directly involved.

               Todd Rankin was everything that Will had perhaps imagined --
and possibly even more. Short, bottle-blond hair, dark brown eyes, a slight
mat of hair on his chest, an air of arrogance to match his eight inches of
uncut manhood and a passion for sex that might almost have left the
youngster wanting more were it not for the fact that he was so much in love
with Gareth beforehand. One thing did surprise him about the fellow,
however -- one thing he perhaps wouldn't have ever anticipated from seeing
him as that hard-hitting footballer on the pitch. And that was his pair of
neatly shaved balls!

               Not that that particular revelation distracted Will for long
as he began to slurp on that well-equipped member, riding the whole length
of it with his hungry mouth. No, his attention was focused too much on
satisfying both City's skipper and of course City's star striker (who had
seated himself on a chair at the bottom of the bed to enjoy the show). And
satisfaction was what the young man was determined to give more than
anything, as he forced more and more of that hard cock into his mouth, so
that it was soon pounding the back of his throat in much the same manner as
Gareth's had been only a few hours before!

               All the same, the young man could not help but find a
strange curiosity in those smooth orbs between Todd's legs -- an interest
that led to his paying them some considerable attention after he had moved
on from that fine, unyielding axle, sucking them into his mouth and playing
with them one by one. Novelty, of course, was the major factor, but the
fact that he was performing right in front of Gareth's nose appeared an
additional incentive. Nor was he totally unaware that his lover had now
pulled his jeans down and was now jerking that savoury cock of his -- a
sight that served only to encourage Will in his antics all the more and
which left him feeling decidedly hot and horny for the fucking that was
clearly on the cards.

               As if to add to the eroticism of the moment, Will positioned
himself facing down the bed as Todd lubed his shit-hole with grease and
slipped a rubber over his aching dick -- the lad's butt sticking high into
the air, as he knelt face-to-face from Gareth so that he might whisper his
affection to his boyfriend as the City skipper shafted him from the rear.
As such, the two were still very much in contact even as Todd was burying
his shaft into Will's young guts and slapping those hairless balls against
his dear, pert rump. What was more, their love for each other was only
compounded when Gareth finally stepped forward and aimed his gun directly
in Will's face -- primed as it was and ready for firing. A deluge of
man-juice rumbled from his nads in a heavy deluge -- just at the very moment
that Rankin withdrew his own prick in readiness for his own ripe salvo
(which landed, very happily, on the Dutchman's silky, sweaty back).
Consequently, the young man felt that he was being showered in spunk from
all directions possible -- and for fuck's sake, who can argue about that?

               It was left only for him to leave his own mark on the scene
at this point, and rolling from his front he wanked his dribbling cock for
all that it was worth. It was a process that did not take long to gain the
desired results. Moments on and his love-tubes were once again displaying
their enthusiasm for his favourite sport -- whilst Gareth and Todd urged him
on like demented fans. Will, for one, could not help but note the irony in
their apparent reversal of roles, but he savoured it all the same. After
all, how many other ordinary mortals could ever claim to have had two
Premiership footballers at the same time? Less still, how many could claim
to have had two said players before lunchtime?

               The Dutch lad's side of Gareth's bargain complete, it was
now only left to Todd Rankin to meet his promise. But how? And when? And
would it be enough to ultimately keep Will Brandt this side of the Channel?

As so often in life, only time would eventually tell.