Rating: NC-17, PWP
Original Date of Completion: May 2007
Pairing: Gary Roberts/Sidney Crosby
Disclaimer: I don't own them, and unfortunately I never will. This is all fiction, conjured in the confines of my demented little mind. So please don't sue me. This contains some questionable material, like spanking and mention of watersports (If you don't know what that is, you probably won't like it). If that doesn't float your boat, you shouldn't read on.
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In a far corner of the locker room, they sat alone, engrossed in conversation. In a noisy room, they were quiet, hushed, two men speaking to be heard by only each other. Their teammates were scattered around them, but none paid them attention, to the outside observer it was a typical event; grizzled veteran lavishing wisdom on his young superstar, like so many times before.
But unlike those times before, the inside of that conversation was far from the expected.
“You couldn’t handle me, Kid,” Gary spoke as he stood, his voice thick with confidence.
“Yes I could,” was the immediate, eager response as Sidney stood himself. “I guarantee it,”
Gary shook his head, snickering at the young man before him “You don’t even know what you’d be in for,” He smirked, leaning against the locker stall beside him and adjusting the towel around his waist. Sidney’s eyes traveled quickly to that spot, earning himself another round of snickers, before the booming voice of his mentor took over. “You’ve got a sunny little idea in that pretty head of your’s, but it’s nothing like the real thing. I guarantee THAT,”
Sidney sighed softly, letting his eyes travel slowly up the physique of the man before him. When he finally met Gary’s eyes, he flashed a sweet smile, one far too innocent for a boy of his talents, and batted his eyelashes in an attempt of muted persuasion. “Can’t you just give me a chance to see?”
Gary shook his head, smirking as he stood up from the wall. “When you show me you know what you’re in for, I’ll give you that chance.”
With that, he turned from the younger man and strode confidently toward the showers, pulling off the towel he wore just before he entered; one last taunt thrown back at Sidney. His eyes narrowed at that sight, and his hand made a quick trip of adjustment to his groin.
“I’ll show you,” He growled, licking over his bottom lip. “Then you’ll show me.”
* * *
The envelope was addressed only to “Sir”, but sat conspicuously on top of Gary’s equipment bag. When he saw it there, he couldn’t stifle a grin; he knew without doubt who it was from, and had a good suspicion of its contents. Still though, he felt a slight bit of sexual anticipation as he tore open the envelope, and pulled from it a few pieces of badly folded notebook paper.
He snickered to himself as he sat down at his locker, shaking his head as he unfolded the paper, revealing a scribbled letter in dark red ink.
“This ought to be good...”
* * * Sir,
When you give me my chance, I want to be on my knees as soon as we're in the hotel. As soon as the door was shut, I’d kneel before you, with my back to the door, while you stood in front of me, slowly easing your jeans down, taunting me, torturing me by depriving me of what I’ve craved since you first got here.
Once your jeans were down, you'd order me to remove your briefs--with my teeth--and being the good boy that I am, I'd happily oblige. I'd bite down on the waistband of the black fabric, then work it down slowly, never using my hands (because you didn't give me permission to.) Once I had them pulled down past your balls, you'd smack your cock hard against my cheek, so hard we could hear the smack of skin, then trail the head along my jaw, smearing precum over it. I'd want so bad to taste you, but you wouldn't let me just yet. You’d remind me in silence that you're in charge, and I'm just your boy toy, I do what you want when you want.
You'd cock smack me a few times, on each cheek, ordering me not to touch you, not to taste you, testing me to see if I'm a good boy. But I am, Sir, and quickly you'd realize that I'm all yours, and you'd let me taste you. But just a little first, I'd have to earn you, so you'd order me to just kiss the head, openmouthed, passionately, to show you how much I want to worship your cock. I'd kiss the head slowly, sensuously, rubbing my lips all over it, teasing just the tip of my tongue out against it, over the slit, sucking up a delicious drop of precum. That would almost be torture to you, so you'd push my head back against the door, and thrust that hard, throbbing cock into my mouth.
I'd moan loudly around you, sucking eagerly at the massive length, trying to move my head up to take you deeper, but you'd stop me, remind me that you're in charge, and hold my head against the door while you pulled back to the head, then slammed back to the hilt, forcing your huge cock down my throat. I'd gag from the quick intrusion, but I have a tight, deep throat, Sir, and I'd adjust around you quickly. I'd swallow slowly around you, squeezing my tight throat around your big dick, trying to milk a load from you. You'd love that feeling, but you'd be far from ready to come, so you'd pull back to the head again, then ram fast back, quickly settling into a rhythm like that, fucking the hell out of my wet, tight mouth.
I'd lick over all of you that I could, moaning as you used my mouth as your personal fuck toy. All the while you'd be calling me boy, telling me what you were going to do to me, how you were going to fuck me. I don't bottom much, Sir, so I'd be a really tight fuck for your hot, huge cock. But I’d want it so much, Sir, you fucking my mouth would only make me want it more. And you'd know that from how eagerly I sucked you, so you'd pull back and cock smack me again, then order me to take my clothes off.
I'd pull my shirt off quickly, tossing it away, then start on my jeans, easing them down slowly to reveal me in a pair of tight white briefs. My dick would be straining against the fabric, much to your delight, Sir, but you'd still make me pull them off and give them to you. I'd hand them to you as soon as they were off, and you'd bring them to your face, inhaling deeply to get the smell of me, then licking over the pouch, sucking up the precum I leaked into them. This would make me even harder, Sir, and I'd beg you for more, telling you how much I needed your cock inside me, how I wanted to feel the length slipping into me, feel the girth stretching my tight hole. This would please you so much, Sir, but you wouldn't be ready to give it to me. Instead you'd make me crawl onto the bed, and lay down on my stomach, with my ass in the air.
I'd do that eagerly, wiggling my ass, begging you for more, for anything. What I'd get would be the hottest, deepest rimjob, suddenly without warning. You'd kneel behind me, Sir, and lick roughly down my crack, thrusting your tongue into me, forcing it into my tight hole. I'd moan loudly--I love a good rim job, Sir--and clench tight around your tongue, giving you a preview of what I'd feel like around your massive tool. This would get you going, and you'd tongue fuck my hole as hard as you fucked my mouth, my moans and whimpers just egging you on. I'd never loosen up around your tongue, Sir, I'd just keep clenching tighter the deeper you thrust it. I'd taste so fucking good, but what you’d really want was my hole wrapped tight around your dick.
So you'd pull back, and without warning spank my ass hard, and tell me it was for being a good boy. I'd moan loudly, I love being spanked, and I'd beg you for more. You'd gladly oblige, spanking my ass once, twice, three times more, getting each cheek burning red. You'd tell me with one more hard smack that you couldn't wait to feel that burn against your thighs, and with a smirk you'd reach for the condoms. I'd watch as you tore the wrapper open, reaching for the lube myself while you rolled the rubber onto your huge cock. I'd pour lube over my fingers, reaching back and thrusting one into myself, wiggling it around the rim, getting myself nice and slick for you. You'd love this show, Sir, and order me to keep going for a moment, while you poured lube along your cock and stroked it in slowly
I wouldn't get two fingers inside myself before you stopped me, taking my hand and pulling my finger from inside me, and nudging the head of your cock up against my hole. I'd whimper and beg for you inside me, Sir, needing that big dick stretching me, CRAVING that throb in my ass. You'd love hearing that, Sir, and slowly you'd enter me, squeezing your hands tight at my hips, telling me to keep talking as you thrust inside. I'd be moaning loudly as you stretched me, Sir, telling you how fucking big you are, how thick you are inside my tight ass. You wouldn't stop to let me adjust, you'd just force that big cock deep into me, pushing to the hilt in one long movement.
And that's how you'd fuck me, Sir, long and slow, working my hole open with that thick cock; getting me ready for the next time, you'd tell me, when you won't be near as gentle. I'd want everything you have to give me, Sir, I'd clench hard with each thrust, wiggling back against you as much as you allowed, telling you how much I loved your dick inside me. You'd tell me what a good boy I was while you fucked me, tell me how good my hole was to your dick, how I was earning rewards for treating your cock so well. I'd beg for those rewards, Sir, clenching harder with each thrust, begging you to go faster as I felt climax approach. But you'd remind me that you were still in control, giving me just one hard thrust--straight against my prostate--while you smacked my ass hard, and sent me into orgasm.
I'd moan loudly as I came, nearly a scream, forcing you to shove my head into the pillow as you continued your deep, rhythmic pounding of my hole, getting close yourself. I'd never stop shivering, Sir, trembling around your cock, but still managing to clench hard with each thrust. My moans would never stop either, but they'd be drown out by your's, especially as you came, with a rough, deep thrust, while you growled at me to "take daddy's cum". I've never had an order I wanted more to fulfil, Sir. Even with the condom on, I could feel your load bursting inside me, and I'd love every last second, every last shot. I'd never stop clenching around you, not until you smacked my ass again, and snickered as you told me to let go of your cock.
Reluctantly, I'd listen, still wanting to be your good boy, still wanting my rewards. Once you disposed of the condom, you'd tell me to roll over, so I could get the reward that all good boys get. I'd eagerly comply, rolling onto my back, just in time to get your piss stream all over my chest, up over my neck, onto my lips. That would be so hot, Sir, I'd ask for immediate permission to jerk off. When the last shot hit my tongue, you'd grant that, telling me to put on a show for you before the next time started--two minutes later.
I'll be the best boy you'll ever have, Sir. Let's make this happen. All of it.
- Sid
* * *
With the last word read, Gary paused, staring at the letter in his hand. His brow was damp with perspiration, and the palm of his free hand slick with sweat, clamped tightly around his now throbbing cock. It had been there since nearly the first paragraph, the letter serving as a powerful fuel for an already vivid imagination. In excruciating detail, Sidney had written exactly what he wanted, coinciding not so miraculously with what Gary expected. That had come with a brief moment of surprise, but that faded as quickly as Gary’s zipper slid down. He knew now that doubting Sidney had been unfounded; when the kid wanted something, he did everything possible to get it, no matter the object of desire. His determination, Gary realized, didn’t stay just on the ice.
He hoped now, that the same could be said for his speed.
Tossing the letter aside, he reached with his now free hand for his phone, squeezing the hand tighter around his cock. He moaned faintly from his ministrations, fumbling one handed to open his phone, and make the dial to his young star. With that successful, he relaxed back in the bed, stroking himself idly as he listened to the drone of the ring.
When the droning stopped, he squeezed himself tighter, choking back a moan as Sidney’s soft voice filled his ear.
“Was that to your liking, Sir?”
Gary smirked faintly, laying his head back and giving himself another firm squeeze. “Get the fuck up to my room and see for yourself, boy.”
Sidney giggled softly, briefly, speaking deeper as he replied. “Your wish is my command, Sir.”
Before Gary could respond, the knock came at his door...
END
© 2007 Triple X
