Happy Birthday Kris!! Finally, the super secret pairing for your birthday is unleashed, I hope you like it *G*. I knew when I sat down to plot out your fic that it had to be Goalie Love of some variety, and I was just going to go with Marc and Brent. But then Lalime started whispering to me in French about how he wanted to play too, and there's no denying the French *G*. But what the heck, the more goalies the merrier, I say. Well, the more non-evil goalies the merrier *G*. I may be your brother-in-evil, but your evil far outshines my own *G*. But I love you for it *hugs*. I had SO much fun writing these three, but really how could I not? So much pretty all in one fic *G*. And there is just something extra cool about a pairing you can call "French Vanilla with a slice of Lime" *giggles*. I certainly hope you enjoy this, because I know I really enjoyed writing it. Happy Birthday!
Love,
James
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Actual Story Title: This Other Time, at Goalie Camp
Rating: NC-17, PWP
Original Date of Completion: August 2003
Pairing: Marc Denis/Brent Johnson/Patrick Lalime
Disclaimer: I own no one, but I sooooo wish I did. This is all fiction, conjured in the confines of my demented little mind. That means it's fake, and you can't sue me.
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Yawning, Brent Johnson untangled himself from the entwined limbs of Dan Cloutier and Chris Osgood. It was Day Two at Goalie Camp, and Johnson was awaking just how he'd hoped to; re-energized, refreshed, and still tingling from the previous night's escapades. He and his companions had sexed the night away, going at it until they could no longer move. Completely spent, they'd all collapsed onto the bed in a jumbled mass of arms and legs, each using another for a pillow, and quickly drifting off. Sleep had come immediately for both Osgood and Cloutier, but Johnson had evaded its capture, momentarily; long enough for a couple of activities (and names) for the next day to be implanted in his head. The activities were no different than those he had spent his short time at Goalie Camp engaged in. But the names were changed; from Chris Osgood to Marc Denis, and from Dan Cloutier to Patrick Lalime.
It hadn't taken Johnson long from his arrival at Goalie Camp to realize what the trip provided; an absolute perfect opportunity for him to seduce each and every NHL goalie that he so desired. Osgood had been first, with an unplanned session in the shower. Cloutier had come next, Scooby Doo boxer shorts and all, with a romp in the cabin he and Johnson shared. The next spot on Brent's list was still blank, but it could be filled only by Denis or Lalime. Johnson had no real preference of the two, the only stipulation for that next spot on his list was that whomever was the first to be seen would be the winner. Johnson had no clue as he left the cabin, clad only in boxer shorts, with a towel draped over his shoulder, who would be lucky #3 on his list. There was only one thing he did know in the entire situation; he'd saw Denis head into a cabin beside the latrine, just before he'd entered for his shower, and for his initial acquaintance with Osgood. He only hoped that cabin was indeed Denis', and not just a visit he'd made. If not, fulfilling the next two list spots could prove to be difficult. 'Oh well,' Brent thought to himself as he walked along the asphalt path toward the washroom. 'I've never been one to shy away from a challenge. And if necessary, I can always steal the rooming list from Counselor Bob.'
Snickering to himself, Johnson pulled open the latrine door and gave a quick glance inside. No one stood in plain view, but he could hear French faintly over the running water coming from the showers. That could mean one of 100 goalies, but Brent knew no matter who it may be, he was most likely in for a good sight. The NHL was overrun with hot goalies, many of them possessing the ability to speak French. That alone was a turn on for Brent; the thought of seeing them in the showers, dripping wet, gleaming, shining, glowing from the water on their skin, only turned him on more. He was still insistent that Denis or Lalime be his next conquest, but there was no rule against ogling others in the meantime; as long as he kept his hands to himself.
With a grin, he stepped into the building, letting the door slam loudly behind him. That alerted those in the shower, two distinctly different, accented voices conversing quickly in French before one spoke an English "Who's out there?" directed at Brent. Brent responded with his name and team as he stepped out of his boxers. He tossed them onto bench before him, and loosely fastened his towel around his waist. It stayed on him only long enough to make the short walk to the showers, where he then shucked the terrycloth from his body, and deposited it onto a hook hanging outside the steamy communal. Fighting through the excessive steam he made his way inside and up to the first shower head he saw. Turning his back to it, he reached behind himself to turn on the water, and it was then for the first time he saw the shower's other occupants.
Marc Denis and Patrick Lalime.
Brent bit back a grin from that realization. Since his arrival at Goalie Camp, things had seemingly fallen perfect into place for all of his devious intentions. First had come rooming with Cloutier, and now his shower just happened to be shared with the next two queued on his list. He'd anticipated a long seduction for one, if not both, but both were instead handed to him on a steamy, naked platter. If there had ever been a 'Two Birds, One Stone' situation, for Johnson this was it. To his memory, things had never been presented to him so easily. Already, Goalie Camp had turned out greater than he could've ever imagined. But there was still time for it to get even better.
"What's up?" Brent asked, nodding in the direction of his fellow goalies.
Lalime turned toward him with a grin, shamelessly allowing his eyes to wander along Brent's naked frame. Brent's eyes widened in momentary surprise, but his surprise was quickly replaced with smug satisfaction. Smirking, he turned slowly in a circle, swaying his hips slightly as he moved. With the 360 completed, he fixed his eyes onto those of Lalime and ran a hand through his sopping hair. Lalime smiled appreciatively, giving one last glance down Johnson's taut body, then lasciviously licked his lips.
"There's something up that wasn't five minutes ago," Patrick replied with a grin. "Way up, in fact,"
From a few showerheads down, Denis chuckled and rolled his eyes. "You are lame, Lalime. Why don't you just ask him flat out if he wants to fuck? It will save us all time,"
Lalime turned toward Denis and grinned, then turned back to Johnson. Brent stood smugly, his arms crossed across his chest as he stared at the other men. He thought again, for a moment about the greatness of Goalie Camp. He'd went there with hatred bubbling in his veins, despising the entire idea of the camp, and why he was there. Now he was full of love, adulation, and gratitude to the camp and to his team for sending him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed himself so much. For a brief second, he wondered if it were the camp, or just luck that things had been so easy. The answer to that question would never come, and it quickly stopped mattering as Lalime reached above himself and cut his shower. He glanced between the two men quickly, grinning at both, then made the short distance to where Brent stood.
"Or I could just do this, right Marc?" He asked, kneeling in front of Johnson.
He turned back to Denis, winking at him as he wrapped his hand around Johnson's quickly hardening shaft. Johnson gasped and collapsed back against the shower wall, moving from the shower's stream. The falling water struck Lalime, earning a snicker from Denis, and a sheepish grin from Johnson. Lalime simply laughed, shaking the water from his hair and smiling up at Brent. Brent flashed a quick smile in return, brushing a hand gently through the mess of drenched curls Patrick called hair. His gentle touch lasted for only seconds, before Lalime leaned forward, and wrapped his lips around Johnson's now throbbing shaft.
Johnson's fingers clenched in the other man's hair, his hips thrusting forward involuntarily. He began to moan as Lalime's lips slid further down his shaft until reaching the hilt. He held still on Johnson's shaft, sucking softly, feeling it pulse against his tongue. Johnson whimpered from the feeling, trying to thrust his hips, but finding his motions impeded by Lalime's strong hands pushing him back against the wall. He growled briefly in protest, before being struck silent as Marc knelt behind Patrick. He wrapped his arms around Lalime's trim waist, wrapping a hand loosely around his cock. That pulled Patrick's attention from Brent, and with a quiet moan he pulled himself from Johnson’s shaft and leaned back against Marc. Brent sighed at the loss of contact, but watched on intently as Denis brought his lips to Lalime's neck. He kissed softly upward, biting gently on occasion, just enough to pinken the skin. When he reached ear, he took the lobe between his teeth, tugging gently at it, coaxing a soft growl from Lalime. Denis snickered at the sound, licking quickly down Lalime's stubbled cheek, before whispering against his ear.
"We know he bleeds blue," He said, grinning up at Johnson. "You'd better check the other fluids,"
Lalime giggled, craning his head back and smirking at Denis. "And you said I was lame,"
Denis was given no chance for rebuttal, as Lalime leaned immediately forward and took Johnson again into his mouth. Johnson moaned, clutching at Lalime's shoulders to keep from collapsing. Lalime worked swiftly, sucking hard at Johnson's shaft and bobbing his head. His hands traveled quickly to Johnson's balls, tugging gently at them as he continued in his other actions. Johnson's fingers tangled in Lalime's hair, and softly he began to thrust his hips, meeting Lalime's bobbing with each motion. His thrusting soon gained in speed, siezing control from Lalime, and moving things to a rougher, more frenzied pace . Lalime went willingly along with Johnson's fevered movements, maintaining a hard suction, but relaxing his throat to allow for Johnson's now powerful thrusts. As Johnson began to moan, clenching his fingers tightly in Lalime's hair, signaling his nearing the edge, Lalime retook control. He pushed Johnson back against the shower wall, halting all movements, and slowly he returned to his earlier bobbing. Those actions would last for only seconds, as when Denis pressed himself to Lalime's entrance, Lalime vanquished control with a soft moan, and Johnson resumed his earlier thrusting.
Denis slipped easily into Lalime, the still flowing shower water cascading over them acting as lubricant. Lalime's drawn out moan as Denis entered him gained Johnson's attentions, and a grin spread across his lips as he noticed the two men before him. He ceased his motions as he made eye contact with Denis, smirking at the other man. Denis nodded, a silent question and answer being shared between the two men. Licking his lips, Johnson nodded himself, softly brushing his fingers through the mob of curls atop Lalime's head. Grinning, Denis mouthed the words 'One, two, three', and in perfect sync, Denis and Johnson both thrust into Lalime. Lalime screamed in pleasure, his body shivering, garnering smug snickers from the other men. Once more, they thrust into him insync, earning the same reaction from him, accompanied this time by clenching around Denis, and increasing suction around Johnson's shaft. Both men moaned, and disgarding their tag team effort, thrust into Lalime, quickly finding opposite rhythms.
All three settled easily into the pleasure, their loud moans filling the air just as rapidly as steam from the still running showers. Their actions seemed to last for a blissful eternity to all three. That's why when the first reached orgasm, Johnson exploding down Lalime's throat with a hoarse moan, whimpers resonated from all involved, for they knew their fun was nearing an end. Denis held out for just seconds more before, with a loud moan, he lost it deep inside Lalime, digging his nails into the other man's hips as he rode the wave of orgasm. He remained in Lalime until the last drop of cum left his body, then with a hissed sigh, he pulled himself from the other man. Lalime collapsed onto his back with a whimper, immediately wrapping a hand around his cock. He was allowed only one stroke before Denis batted his hand away, replacing it swiftly with his tongue. Kneeling on the opposite side of Lalime, Johnson brought his tongue also to Lalime's shaft; resuming their earlier tag team effort, this time with syncronizned licks to Lalime's aching cock, he and Denis dragged Lalime screaming into orgasm. Both men continued licking until Lalime was spotlessly clean and begging them to stop from sensitivity. Then with a shared grin, they crawled back to the wall and collapsed against it, Lalime still laying between them. All three shared a contented sigh, and Denis was the first to speak.
"So how were the fluids, Patrick?" He asked with a slight giggle.
Lalime giggled from the floor, making no effort to move. "Is my tongue blue?" He asked, sticking his tongue out.
All three men burst into laughter, ignoring the question entirely. All were spent from their escapades, their bodies still tingling in pleasure. It was a satisfying feeling for all, dominating all of their senses and clouding their minds. Each of the men had to fight through a pleasured haze just to form a simple thought; Denis and Lalime didn't bother. But as it had with his previous Goalie Camp encounter, Johnson's mind refused to shut off. His crusade to fulfill the previously unoccupied spots on his list had completely exceeded any and all expectations, and completely blown his mind. It was because of that, that there was only one thought he could manage about the entire situation.
"Goalie Camp rocks,"
END
© 2003 Triple X
