Stadium Of The Gods (1)

We were snarled in each other’s sweaty bodies, and that sweat was now drying on earlier sweat. The whole team heaved forward, knotted together in each other’s backs and legs.

One more try out of this scrum and we’d be ahead, with only shrinking seconds left to go. The flankers had joined on each side, setting their shoulders below the prop's outside buttock. I was at the back between the hips of the two locks. The captain, Martin, called the move and the backs grunted out code words, signalling what move they’d be running. With their prearranged signal, the scrumhalf rolled the ball into the tunnel underneath our locked bodies. Then my foot found the ball, and I traced it through. It was in my hands and back it went to Johnny before the scrum could break. A swift duck, and his boot sent it sailing over the bar.

Clive asked, looking up at me with a beaming smile as the whistle went and all hell broke loose, 'When did you learn to ruck like that, man?'
I lolled on top of him, with my mud-splattered body sliding against his already naked hairy chest. He laughed and hugged me. My semi-hard dick ground tight up against his rock-hard cock, and he let me, drawing his legs apart. So I kissed him; and he kissed me back, long, hard and real.
We’d won!

I could taste last night’s beer at his throat and felt bloody sure he could taste it on mine too. Sour, but made sweeter with the hint of victory. Johnny bounced on top me, and more plunged on top of him. But still it was a match for Clive and me.

His large hands gripped my butt, and squeezed. Amid the chaos Clive slipped his fingers up the leg of my trunks and into my arse crack. Running along the tense muscular line with his middle finger, he made an amazingly soft play around my asshole.

'It’s all down to practice, mate,' I told Clive as the impromptu scrum broke up and we were called on to troop up for the College Competition cup final prize .
I kissed Clive again, I didn’t care who looked on, nor did he. Harder and longer than before, he hugged me into a French kiss. His hands were moving over my lower back, constantly; sliding up the bones of my spine, but always back to my arse.

The chill feeling of the unspoken tingled into my soul, as we marshalled along the presentation line and I roared a cheer with the team and fans as Martin hoisted the cup. I longed to take root here for the rest of my life.

'Wonderful, man!' Clive shouted into my ear, trying to speak above the noise. 'That’s what you are. Bloody, fuck, you know it too.'
I smacked his arse and said, ‘Just like you, mate!'

We both laughed for a moment, but only for a moment. We took off as a team haring around the grand French stadium to the applause of the fantastic local crowd and the rip-roaring cheers of our mad supporters.

The other finalists had invited us all out to a night’s celebration in Paris, whoever won. So there was little time to spend in making fools of ourselves in front of the crowd - we went to the changing rooms and did it there for our own entertainment.

Clive and I, however, kept clear of each other. Not in an unfriendly way, there were always whoops of joy that brought us together. But we both instinctively knew it was best to lavish our attention on someone else, even though our eyes constantly met, and there was no power that could stop it.

I spent the coach ride and a lot of the evening fucking around with mad lad Johnny, and Clive joined Martin as a merry love-making onlooker.
It was only when Johnny and one of the French lads organised a drunken strip-a-thon on the table tops, and this turned into a naked conga line, sweeping up Martin and all who got in its staggering sway, that Clive and I came back together.

He twisted his shiny new wedding ring with a guilty itch, and I fiddled nervously at the old tiepin my ex-girlfriend had bought me. We said nothing, but joined the crowd in egging on the not wholly fake homo-sex going on around us.

Somehow it seemed wrong, yet oddly right. All of it. The prancing faggery of Johnny and his new best mate, a massively endowed black-as-night French satyr; and with them the howls of appreciation for their antics running across the room. But it was us, Clive and I, as we looked into each others eyes, that the sense of wrong seemed greatest - and the impenetrable sense of being right was most closely shared.

‘Jenny thinks it was a mistake,’ Clive confessed to me in something less than a whisper, spoken to his own chest. ‘The marriage,’ he said glancing at my face, but not daring to look into my eyes.
I shook my head, and averted my gaze, in case he did cast a look into my soul. ‘You two are perfect,’ I said with renewed interest in my ex’s pin and its loose hold on my tie. ‘Any way,’ I said suddenly drawn to his gaze, ‘you can’t want to lose her.’

‘I don’t,’ Clive said with tears welling up. ‘But maybe not for the right reasons,’ he went on, putting on a face to impress the irrepressibly horny Johnny who landed a sodden kisses on Clive’s mouth.

Johnny and his crew headed out to an early morning crawl of the Parisian hot-spots, and the chance of finding an easy lay among the scores of girls hanging around outside.
Martin, Clive, and a few others decided to go back the hotel for a nightcap with me. The hotel wasn’t as quiet as we’d hoped or expected, and a few the staff still on duty even seemed to recognise us and enjoy our company, as they catered to the slowly drifting late night marauders.

Eventually we got away and headed to our rooms. Only Clive and I in our group took the lift, and from the second floor on we were finally alone.
Clive took hold of my neck and pulled me close, laying into my mouth like his whole life depended on it. ‘Beautiful!’ he sighed, leaning back slightly to look at me.

I laughed at the idea, then went on kissing him, this time across his gentle, manly face. I licked at his firm, dimpled chin, the angle of his jaw, and slowly into his soft pink, full-flushed lips. I could feel my dick growing hard again, and so was his. But the car juddered to a halt, and the doors began to open, so we prised apart and headed to the room we shared with Johnny and one of the other lads.
I had already started to undress before we got to the door, and Clive too had slid out of his jacket and tie. As he reached in to check the room and switch on the light I stopped his hand. Easing in passed him, I pulled him in, and slammed the door with my foot. Then I set about kissing down his muscular, light-fuzzy, soap-scented chest.

Flicking the tip of my tongue over his nipples, I peeled off his shirt to access the sweet sweat-stained blond hairs under his arms. And I jerked his torso to me. He groaned heavily, but he gave himself to me.
Now I could feel that the whole length of his hard cockshaft was pulsing against my groin, making my dick strain ever harder for release. But I went on licking down the centre of Clive’s tense-toned, peach fuzzed belly. His hands following the back of my head with light caresses as I went.

Although he continued to moan and gasp as I trekked down to his trouser flies, he didn’t struggle or pull away. Instead Clive spread his legs apart, reached on to his trousers and undid the opening. Even anticipating my next move; he pulled the flaps apart then pushed my head into the waiting heat.

Placing one hand back on top of my head he brushed the hair away from my face, at the same time he pushed toward me, drawing me to his urgently throbbing cock. He levered himself above me, trying to grind my face like a willing pussy. And his tight thighs trembled as I gave back everything I could.

Through the material of his underwear, I could feel the mass of his cock extend to its full length. And I enjoyed each time my mouth made his cock leap wildly while I nibbled his knob end, already oozing precum.

Clive’s musty-smelling nutsack invited me to gave his dickhead a few minutes rest; these two great golden globes hung loose in his boxers, so I eased them free through the gaping slit. I breathed the scent through my nose, playing over the slightly damp sack with the rising and falling which each ball , and I kissed them. With a knee-bending suck, I pulled first one ball into my mouth and then tried the other for size and taste.

Clive gave a little yelp and laughed as I looked up at him before I let go of his balls and started to work over his cock once more. He struggled out his trousers and boxers, straight away, standing above me naked but for one black sock.

As he stood there smiling at me, I recalled seeing him naked and so happy for the first time. Dressed in nothing but his downy skin and one old sock, he turned and greeted me cheerfully as I walked into the college changing rooms. I pressed back the feeling that I had felt even then, simply to hug him close to me. Remembering the way he smelled that first time, a mix of his girlfriend’s cologne and her soap, but coming through it the real him, clean, fresh, ready, I felt the muscles around my stomach grip for the raw masculinity that rose off him.

The junk scattered across our hotel room was every bit as messy as that changing room, and the impressive toilet odour-killer in the closet bathroom added to the effect. But I hoped this room might have one fantastic advantage, I hoped it might be where we fucked for the first time.

I pulled away from the joy of his loose foreskin with a smack, then kissed his nutsack tenderly before I bent between his legs and washed the line between his sack and his tight hole with my tongue, taking in the sharp tang of his asscrack. His sweet little pucker clenched and released with his moans as I licked its lips with my tongue.

That shocking little love play seemed to spur him into action. He cried out ‘Fuck!’ as though he were about to spew his cumload. But he hoisted me out, and held me by the hair. ‘Fuck! Man, that’s it. Fuck!’ he said shaking my head.

That wasn’t nearly enough, clearly, because he cocked one leg up on the bed we shared and pressed his cunt down onto my face. Yet still it felt like it was his first time; he trembled with the probing of my tongue, and the saliva moistened work of my fingers.

He whimpered and pleaded for me to stop, then begged for more. Either way I didn’t let up, because I knew it drove him wild that I do that to him, but more than that, because I loved the way he responded, his animal smell, and him - just being there.

Softly I broke from his surrendering hole. I licked back up passed his balls, along the rock hard bone of his cock’s shaft, and I kissed the velvet foreskin wrinkles at the head of Clive’s cock. Licking at the trickle of precum that oozed out of the slit, I peeled back the skin and swallowed his knob whole.

An explosive spasm shook Clive’s body, and he pulled back from me, apologising. ‘I can’t keep it back, Ronan. I’m sorry, but it’ll go all over you.’
I pulled him back to me, and grinned. With light kisses I covered his shaft with kisses, and teased his inner thighs with my tongue.
He trembled again, this time yanking me up, so he could suck at my dick. He fumbled with it, not yet confident enough to make love to it. ‘Nice,’ I sighed, as he got the taste for it a little more. ‘I’m close too,’ I said, patting his head.

Clive leaped from me like an electric shock had caught him. But I forced him back to me, going down on his mass of throbbing meat. His cock swelled and his ball sack tightened. I covered the head of his cock with my lips, drawing his knob to my tongue as he shook. He let go a long enduring cry of, 'Fuck!'
Gently as possible, I covered his knob with my mouth, taking it with slow, twisting sucks.

Clive screamed out loud. His whole body was trembling. And his balls rose up, as his seed spewed up, rising though his cock and blowing out with thick splattering loads into my mouth.
Thrilled that I’d made him cum that way, I kept him in my mouth until all the little trickles of quivering cum came out. Never had I sucked a cock with so much enthusiasm. It was almost like I too was lost in a kind of spasm.

Swiftly as he could, Clive calmed his shakes. He withdrew from my mouth, and laughed as he watched me swallow his spunk, licking in the drops around my lips. From his position above me, he dropped. Crouching by my groin, and just as quickly as he dropped, he slid my dick in his mouth. This time he took me to the back of his throat, and then as he pulled back he let out a silent cheer, like a lad scoring a goal. From there on in he went to it faster, steering the my dick in and out of his throat, ignoring the occasional gag.

With increasing speed, his head nodded, but he also let me wank at my shaft until I too pulled up in a quivering ball - my spunk flying passed my knob onto his face and into his mouth.
'It’s never been like this for me before,' Clive giggled, sliding down to lie beside me. Then he thought and added, ‘I’ve never had a man before!’ And he laughed.

I toyed with his large balls, while I licked my spunk from him, and he reached out to fondle me. Neither of us had done it with another man the way it came to us - naturally. I laughed as well.