"Tell me why we're here again," I asked Jake over the roar of the crowd.
"To get an interview with him," he said, pointing to the guy in the number 39 jersey.
"But we work for a travel and adventure magazine, not Sports Illustrated."
"I'm doing a favor for a friend."
"Okay, so what am I doing here?"
Jake took his eye off the game long enough to shoot me a befuddled expression. "Duh... you're here to take pictures."
I shook my head and rolled my eyes. I knew that Jake had "concerns" about working with other photographers, but he could have worked with someone else just that once -- someone who actually gave a flying fuck about hockey. Trying to follow the players and that stupid little black disk around was starting to give me a headache and the sound of bodies being thrown against Plexiglas was unsettling to say the least. And I thought the uniforms of the team our interviewee played for were atrocious. Who ever thought of putting turquoise, black and yellow together? And since when have ducks ever been mighty?
"Who is this number 39 anyway?"
"Yuri Sykora," Jake said through a mouthful of popcorn. "He's the hottest thing in Hockey these days -- the fans can't get enough of him. He knows how to work the crowd."
That was an understatement. Yuri was a showboat. I didn't know much about hockey, but you could see his game was more about panache than skill. At least it was effective as he was responsible for two of the Ducks' four goals, which I'm told is quite an accomplishment. The Ducks finally came out victorious, thanks in great part to Yuri Sykora.
Jake and I left the press box and made our way down to the locker room. I should have been excited about the prospect of entering a locker room full of half-dressed, sweaty men, but I'd seen pictures of hockey players and didn't find anything appealing about a bunch of big, burly, toothless brutes -- clothed or unclothed.
We wandered through the noisy locker room. The players were pumped and understandably so; they'd played a good game and came out on top. The ruckus faded to a dim murmur as we approached. They'd stopped to see who had invaded the sanctity of their locker room and crashed their celebration.
"Jake Jacoby... Sports Illustrated," Jake announced with authority.
You could feel the tension relax and saw the smiles return to their victorious faces once they realized we "belonged" there. A lot of them started talking to us as if we'd come to see them. Finally, a voice boomed out from the back of the growing crowd of excited hockey players.
"Back off guys!! They're here to see me."
You could hear the sucking of teeth and a few of them mumble, "Figures," or "It's always Sykora," as they turned and walked away. Soon it was just me, Jake and Yuri standing in the large open area in the middle of the locker room.
The guy standing before us -- with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and his hands on his hips pushing it even lower -- looked nothing at all like the pictures of hockey players I'd seen. For one, I thought he'd be a lot more imposing. Don't get me wrong; he was no lightweight, but he wasn't the big, burly bruiser I'd come to expect. There was no potbelly, bent nose, ugly facial scars and bruises, or toothless grin. Not on Yuri Sykora.
In fact, he was completely the opposite of what I expected; he was downright sexy! He had boyish good looks and thin eyebrows that arched in a sort of way that implied a devilishly playful nature. Everything about this dude had scamp written all over it; from his impish smile to his neatly trimmed goatee. Even his hair was unruly. He had it slicked back, but a few strands fell free and dangled playfully in front of his left eye. He looked at Jake then looked at me and smiled. I inhaled sharply. When he smiled, his light brown eyes got real squinty, like he was up to something. I wondered what that something was.
"Nice to meet you Jake." Yuri shook Jake's hand. His accent was still pretty noticeable -- not so thick that it was difficult to understand him, but heavy enough to be super sexy. He turned those beautiful brown eyes on me. "And you are?"
"John Paul Batista... photographer."
He smiled that wicked smile of his and shook my hand. I blushed and slowly let my hand slide out of his friendly grip. He turned back to Jake, "I hate doing interviews while I'm wet and naked. Let me throw on some clothes... then we can get started. Okay?"
Jake looked at me; I shrugged my shoulders. "Sure. We'll wait outside," Jake answered.
"Okay," Yuri said, yanking his towel off of his trim hips. "I'll be out in a minute."
I drew in a sharp breath and stared at the hockey player's beautiful naked body. Before I could get a good look at the goods dangling between his thighs, Jake grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of the locker room.
"C'mon hornball," he muttered under this breath.
I may not have been able to appreciate Yuri's stunning body as much I really wanted to, but I'd seen enough to change the way I looked at hockey players forever. Damn, he was fine!
Fifteen minutes later, Yuri walked out of the locker room, wearing a black suit and a dark blue shirt -- both of which fit him very nicely and were excellent for his coloring. He looked good in that suit, but I wanted to get another look at him OUT of it.
"Some of the guys are going out to the club to celebrate. Want to come with? We can do some of the interview on the way there."
"You up for a little partying, Paulie?" Jake asked.
I could see the excitement in his eyes. Jake loved the clubs -- he loved to party, he loved to socialize, and he LOVED to drink. The idea of going to the club did sound appealing, so I agreed.
"Excellent!" Yuri said with a powerful clap of his large hands. "Let's go."
The three of us piled into his chauffeur-driven, black Navigator and headed for the club. Jake and I sat on either side of the sexy wingman in the back seat of the SUV. Yuri sat back and slung his arms over the back of the seat and started chatting with Jake.
Jake is so laid-back and Yuri was just so open and friendly, that it didn't even seem like an interview. It was like watching two old chums catching up on old times. I just sat back and listened. As they talked, I felt Yuri's hand on my shoulder. He'd occasionally, unconsciously, pat it or rub it. Purely innocent gestures, I'm sure, but not in my horny, oversexed mind. Each touch drove me closer and closer to sexual overload. By the time we got to the club, I was so turned on I couldn't see straight, and my erection threatened to rip through my new boxer briefs.
Yuri talked about his hometown in the Czech Republic and his family, who still lived there with the exception of his younger brother who lived with him in L.A. He talked about adjusting to American culture and fame. He said that he didn't feel worthy of the attention and love that his fans and the press lavished upon him. And as his popularity grew, so did his fear that he'd somehow let his fans, friends, and family down. I listened on, captivated by Yuri's warmth, sincerity, and beauty.
"Well... here we are," Yuri announced as the truck came to a stop in front of the spot, some forty minutes away from the arena.
The club, as it turned out, was one I'd gone to many times before. There was usually a mixed crowd -- an uncommon mix of gays and straights playing happily together. Still, it wasn't the type of place I'd expect to find a group of rowdy hockey players. Maybe I'd had them pegged wrong all along. Maybe they weren't the brutes I thought they were. Who knew?
We stepped into the club and it throbbing with energy. The music was loud, the crowd was lively, and the beer taps were flowing. Jake made a beeline for the bar, Yuri and I shoved our way onto the dance floor. It wasn't long before two adoring fans had latched onto Yuri and were rubbing their ample, artificial breasts all over him. He didn't seem to mind the attention. I had my hands full with a young, black-haired, blue-eyed beauty named Russell, who was rubbing certain body parts all over me. The ride with Yuri had me so horny that I gladly accepted his affection and returned it three-fold. We were literally humping each other in the middle of the dance floor.
I don't know how much time had transpired, but it seemed like I'd only been dancing a few minutes before I felt a tap on my shoulder and Yuri's voice in my ear.
"C'mon, let's get out of here. I've had enough... and so has Jake."
I tore my attention away from Russell long enough to see what Yuri was talking about. Jake was at the bar with at least ten empty shot glass lined up in front of him and another one turned up to his lips. My buddy could hold his liquor, but even he must have been pretty lit up after ten shots of what I assumed was tequila -- his drink of choice.
"Yeah... okay," I said.
I gave Russell a long, sloppy kiss goodbye. He looked confused and upset -- I'm sure he thought he had sealed the deal with me and Yuri had come in and stolen his prize. I was content with letting him think that and offered him no explanation for my sudden departure.
We dragged Jake out of the club and into the cool night air of Los Angeles. Surprisingly, he didn't put up much resistance. He wasn't completely wasted, but he was pretty drunk.
"I need to get him back to the hotel before he falls asleep -- it's a pain in the ass dragging his dead weight around."
Yuri laughed. "Does he get like this often?"
"Often enough."
"Why don't you two come back to my place," he offered. "It's closer."
"No, I couldn't impose on you like that."
"Really. I insist. I could use the company. My brother is out of town and I'm not used to staying in that big house by myself. Childish, no?"
"No, it's not childish at all." I looked at Jake who was leaning on my shoulder and was starting to drift off into a blissful, booze-induced slumber. "If you're sure you don't mind, I'd really appreciate it. This asshole's already starting to go to sleep on me."
Yuri smiled and put Jake's left arm over his shoulder. I grabbed his other arm and together we walked him to the valet spot where Yuri's truck was waiting. We sat in the back seat again; this time with Jake nestled in the middle.
"What happened to your groupies?" I asked once we were settled in and had started off.
"They lost interest, I guess," he replied. He didn't seem bothered by their absence. "What about your fan?" he asked with his customary devilish grin.
"Some things are more important," I said, patting an unconscious Jake on his head.
"So, you two are... close?"
"Yeah... oh, but not THAT kind of close, if that's what you mean." I didn't really feel like explaining my relationship with Jake.
"Oh. Too bad. You two would make a very cute couple," he teased. His eyes got squinty as he smiled at me.
I blushed. His openness to my sexuality was surprising, refreshing... interesting. We talked a little bit on the way to his house -- about me, this time, instead of him. We talked mostly about my job, which completely fascinated him. He was enthralled by the idea of world travel.
It only took about 20 minutes to get to his house which, coincidentally, was only a few minutes away from my parent's house. I could have taken Jake there had I been thinking clearly, but my mind was only on one thing at the time... and it wasn't visiting my parents. Damn it, Jake! Russell was a sure thing!!
Yuri helped me drag Jake into the house where we deposited him on one of the large, cushiony leather sofas for the time being.
"Care for something to drink?" he asked.
"Some water would be nice."
"Water?"
"Yeah... you don't want two drunken journalists on your hands, do you?"
He smirked. "I can think of worse things," he answered before walking off to fetch me a glass of water.
I looked around his spacious living room. I was impressed by the simple, yet elegant décor. It had a warm, homey feel to it, despite the expensive choice of furnishings. There were a few pictures strategically placed around the room -- some professional shots of Yuri in uniform, but mostly candid shots of him in his everyday life with family and friends.
"I'm sure you could take better pictures," he said, startling me -- I'd been so engrossed in looking at a picture of him standing on a beach, shirtless, with a group of friends.
"There are some subjects that look good no matter who takes the pictures."
"Such flattery," he replied, handing me the water.
He sat down on the other sofa and I planted myself beside him. Yuri raised the frosty, green bottle to his lips and took a few swigs of beer; then he leaned back into the sofa and relaxed.
"Sorry you had to give up your evening with the club chicks for us."
"Nothing to apologize for... they weren't going to work out anyway."
"Oh." I took a big gulp of water. "I guess you get hit on like that a lot."
"More than you can imagine."
"And yet you're still single."
He shrugged. "The right one hasn't come along yet," he said. There was a bit of loneliness in his voice as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.
"What are you looking for in the right one?"
"Someone strong, independent, funny, intelligent, compassionate, charming... and I hate to sound shallow, but I'm looking for that special someone with the right look... someone who walks into a room and just lights the place up."
"You're not asking for much," I joked. "That's a pretty big order to fill. I'm not sure such a person exists."
"I didn't think he existed either... until tonight."
I almost choked on my own tongue. Unless my mind was completely clouded with lust, I was pretty sure that Yuri just referred to his ideal person as "he". And I was pretty sure that the "he" he was talking about was ME. Now, I may be a sucker for romance, but I know a pick-up line when I hear one. I'll concede to the fact that I'm a pretty good-looking guy, and I'll go as far as to say that I'm easy to get along with, but this guy had only known me for a few hours. If you subtract the time we spent in the club, he didn't know me at all. How could he possibly think I was the right one?
Now, I had a choice to make. I could: play along with his game and let him get in my pants, or burst his bubble and wake up the next morning with honor and dignity. What would you have done?
"That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever told me," I replied.
Fuck dignity and honor! He was hot and I was horny. Thanks to Russell, I was still pretty boned. I needed to fuck somebody and Jake was out cold.
"I saw it in your eyes the minute I saw you in the locker room, but I wasn't sure if I should say anything because I didn't know if you were gay. Then, when I saw you in the club, dancing with that guy, I knew I had a chance."
I wondered if he used that bullshit before. If so, did it actually work? Maybe his previous conquests were as hot for him as I was and were also willing to put up with his cheesy attempts at romance. I'd heard enough, though. As soon I finished rocking his world, I vowed to help him with his game but, in the meantime, I needed something to keep him quiet. I leaned over and kissed him. He opened his mouth and our tongues locked in a slimy embrace. If he fucked half as good as he kissed then I was in for a bone-chilling, toe-curling experience. He sucked on my mouth in a way that had me hard and dripping in 30 seconds flat, and made me forget all about his corny lines.
Yuri took my hand and placed it in the crotch of his black Prada pants. I gave his package a firm squeeze. He moaned into my mouth and kissed me harder. I'd gotten a quick glance at his equipment and I knew he was working with a nice piece, but it felt even more substantial as it grew in my loving caress.
I unzipped his pants and reached inside for his cock. Yuri slouched down in the sofa to make my retrieval easier. His thick Slavic prick sprung out eagerly from its confinement. I stroked it a few times, working the foreskin back and forth over his fat, bright red knob. With each pump, it grew thicker and thicker in my hand until I had ten solid inches of Eastern European dick dripping spunk all over my fingers.
Yuri's hips lifted off the sofa as I jerked his pole for him. His devilish good looks turned even more sinister as I cranked his shaft. He closed his eyes, licked his lips and moaned as I pumped out a stead stream of precum. It was all over my hand and the front of his pants.
"You're making a mess," I whispered as I stretched out on the sofa and rested my head in his lap.
My lips were inches away from his thick, juicy cock. I stopped stroking him for a minute, so I could lick my fingers clean. His thick scum was salty and delicious. I wanted more. Grabbing his horn at the base, I aimed it at my hungry lips and sucked his chunky knob into my mouth. Yuri let out a savage growl as I let his cock slide further into my mouth until it hit the back of my throat. At that angle, I couldn't take him all the way in but, by the way he was cooing, he was satisfied with the five or six inches I was working on.
His hips continued to rock back and forth, driving his dick in and out of my hot, gooey mouth. All I had to do was apply the right amount of suction at the right time to keep him happy and keep his juices flowing onto my tongue. He kicked off his shoes, then finished undoing his pants and slid them off. Once he removed his shirt, the only thing standing between him and complete nakedness were the tight, red boxer briefs through which his proud cock was poking. I stopped sucking him long enough to let him remove them, then repositioned myself on the floor between his legs and took his stick back into my greedy gullet.
In that position, I was able to swallow him to the root. So I did. He moaned and squirmed as I sucked him in to the balls. Having given him that pleasure, he was like putty in my hands -- willing to let me do any and every thing to him. I grabbed the back of his knees and lifted his legs in the air so I could spend a little time munching on his big, hairless nuts. I swatted at them with my tongue and watched them bob up and down above his hairy butt crack. I sucked on one and then the other, alternating between them until they were both dripping with spit. They glistened like freshly shined eggs beneath his pulsing cock.
I lifted his legs higher until his ass cheeks parted to reveal his hidden hole. I wasn't sure how much action it had seen, but it looked pretty untapped. It was my goal to be either the first -- or at least one of the few -- to get inside. First, I wanted a taste. I buried my face in his ass and started licking his pink pucker with the full fury of my powerful tongue. He liked it. He REALLY liked it. I had to hold his hips to keep him steady so I could take aim and bury my tongue up his manhole. Once I worked it up his tight chute, however, there was no controlling him. He wiggled his hips like a mad man trying to get my tongue deeper inside, but he had it all.
I was so busy eating Yuri's ass that I hadn't even noticed movement behind me. "That looks mighty good... mind if I have a taste?"
I lifted my face from Yuri's spit-soaked ass and turned to see Jake standing over me, his body rocking slowly from side to side and his hand grabbing at his crotch. He was still a little tipsy, but he was awake and horny. After he'd been drinking, Jake would do just about anything or anyone as long as it involved sex and he got to put his dick in a nice, warm hole. I'd only had a few threesomes before so I wasn't opposed to the idea. Jake and I had shared so many things; why not a nice, tight ass?
I looked up at Yuri who had a look of bewilderment etched on his face. "What do you say Yuri? You man enough to handle both of us?" I asked.
The look of confusion and worry was quickly replaced by the sexy, sinister grin that I loved so much. "The more, the merrier," he responded.
With that, I relinquished the ass eating duties to Jake. I'd had Jake's tongue up my ass a few times before and I knew Yuri was in for a treat. My good buddy swooped down on the Czech's tasty butt and started tongue fucking him like only he could. A few quick licks later and Yuri's was moaning and wailing at the top of his lungs, begging someone to fuck him. While Jake was busy chowing down on some ass, I had taken the time to get undressed. I was naked, hard, and ready to plug Yuri's anxious rectum.
Jake pulled his tongue out of Yuri's ass, looked up at me and pouted. His lips and chin were covered with spit -- even his freshly grown goatee glistened with saliva. "How come you get to fuck him first?"
"Because I got to him first, now step aside."
Jake reluctantly surrendered the prime spot at Yuri's ass. I let Yuri's legs drop down and knelt between his beefy thighs. I took aim at his juicy hole and carefully pressed forward. The star hockey player grimaced as my cock slowly, painfully pushed into his gushy, tightness, but he never complained and never asked me to stop. He wanted that fuck badly, as if he'd been waiting a long time for it. I finally bottomed out inside his guts and let him get used to the feeling.
While I was busy stretching out Yuri's hole, Jake had been busy removing his clothes. Now all of us were naked, erect and ready to fuck... or be fucked. Since he had to give up Yuri's ass to me, Jake decided to take the next best thing. He climbed up on the sofa and stood over Yuri's head. Instinctively, the young athlete leaned his head back and opened his mouth. I watched in pure lust as Jake's fat dick slid into Yuri's mouth. They both hummed when Jake's nuts finally came to rest on Yuri's hairy chin. I'd been in Yuri's position a time or two, sucking on Jake's cock. His precum was always so sweet -- probably from all the fruit he ate. I could see Yuri's Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he greedily gulped down Jake's sweet juice. He must have been doing a good job sucking too, because I also had a good view of Jake's firm, round ass clenching and relaxing as he tried to drive his cock further down the hockey player's taut throat.
I started to move my hips in unison to Jake's, slipping my cock in and out of Yuri's ass as Jake slipped his cock in and out of his mouth. The hot Czech boy was getting both of his holes filled and he loved every fucking minute of it. As I fucked him harder and deeper, he slurped more fervently on Jake's throbbing meat. Watching my old friend thrusting into Yuri's mouth -- his hairy ass bouncing vigorously in front of my face -- was hotter than anything I'd ever been witness to. Hot enough to make me bust a nut if I didn't slow down. So I changed gears and poked Yuri's tender guts with slow, deep strokes.
My eyes remained fixed on Jake's bouncing butt -- I never really noticed how smooth and firm it was... how delectable his rose bud looked. I licked my lips and shoved my face into his furry crack. Jake doubled up on his face fucking efforts when my tongue wormed its way into his poop chute. I knew he liked having his ass licked and I was determined to give him the rimming of his quasi-heterosexual life. I licked, sucked, chewed, and fucked his tight anus with my mouth and tongue to the delightful sounds of his slightly slurred dirty talk.
"Awww fuck Paulie... that's some kinky shit. I love when you eat my ass, Paulie. Aw yeah... get up in there... you know where the spot is... yeah that's the one!! Gawddammmmit!! That feels so fucking good!!!!"
I felt his anus twitching and clamping down on my tongue. He was really getting into me rimming him and I knew he'd soon be itching for more, so I slipped my finger inside of him alongside my fidgety tongue. He REALLY liked that.
Poor Yuri -- he was starting to feel the effects of my tongue-lashing as Jake really started to pound his throat. He must have been enjoying himself though, because he cock was still rock hard, laying on his stomach, depositing a large puddle of precum all over his treasure trail. He continued to milk my dick with his squishy bunghole, and he never stopped moaning as we both ravaged his wet, hot holes.
I withdrew my finger and mouth from Jake's ass. My jaw ached from the intense rimming and his ass lips were red, swollen and ready for more. I grabbed Yuri's inflated member with one hand and Jake's hip with the other. I pulled Jake backwards until the tip of Yuri's ten-inch monster knocked at my bud's bud. Jake felt the bulbous head pressing against his shitter and started to moan. He was ready for the invasion. He'd taken my cock up his ass a few times -- taking Yuri's would be just like that.
I looked on in sheer lust as Jake's tight hole swallowed up Yuri's meat, inch by loving inch. Soon he had the whole thing buried up his manhole and his butt cheeks rested against my pelvis. He started rocking back and forth, and riding that huge fucker.
Once again, Yuri was being tag teamed by the dynamic duo -- this time his cock was buried deep in Jake's ass, while mine continued to stretch him out. I pounded his butt with all my might now. The sounds of our body slapping together, and our desire-filled moaning and grunting, was driving me over the edge. I rested my head against Jake's back and slammed into Yuri. Jake continued to bounce up and down on the Czech's throbbing monster.
The combination of sensations would quickly prove to be too much for Yuri. A few minutes after we really got into the groove of things, I felt his body tense up. He rammed all the way up into Jake, growled, and shot what I'm sure must have been the mother of all cum loads up my partner's ass. He thrust a few more times and I could see his sticky seed coating his rod.
Just as the last wave of pleasure shook through Yuri's body, I could hear Jake's breath growing ragged. His right arm was moving furiously and he worked his crank. I peeped around his left side just in time to watch him pump out a thick, creamy load of spunk all over Yuri's chest and stomach. Jake was always good for a huge load and that day was no exception. He kept stroking his pud until the last pearly white drop dripped onto Yuri's curly pubes.
While those two were busy blowing their wads, I was persistently plugging Yuri's hole. Watching them get off was all it took to set me off. I slammed into Yuri and dumped my load deep inside his gently clamping rectum. I pulled out and watched a tiny stream of my jizz trickle out of his ass.
The cycle was complete. We were all spent. Jake collapsed on top Yuri -- chest to chest in a pool of his own cum -- and I collapsed on Jake's back. We stayed like that for a while, sweaty, breathless, and exhausted from our intense three-way fuck.
We eventually pulled ourselves apart, showered (separately), and went to bed. It was late and Yuri had practice the next morning so, as much as I wanted to, there would be no round two that night.
We woke up the next morning and got dressed. Yuri drove us back to the hotel personally before going to the arena for practice. Before we got out of the car, he held up two tickets.
"They're tickets for this weekend's game. I hope you'll still be in town to watch me play."
"We'll be back home by then," I said. Yuri's face grew sullen. "But the next time I'm out this way, if you're playing at home, I'll make a point of coming out to watch. How's that sound?"
"I would like that very much. You are an incredible man," he purred.
I glanced at Jake, who was sitting in the back seat rolling his eyes. I guess he wasn't a big fan of Yuri's cheesy attempts at being smooth either. We said our goodbyes and jumped out of the car before it got to thick.
I went to see Yuri Sykora dazzle the crowd a few more times. Afterwards, we'd go back to his house for a little one-on-one hockey match. He sure knew how to handle his stick.