This story is a work of fiction involving the Liverpool and England footballer Michael Owen. It is only a work of fiction and implies nothing about the true sexual orientation or morality of Michael Owen, and in addition implies nothing about the Liverpool football club its employees and agents.
The usual warnings apply to this story, please do not read it if explicit sexual acts between of ages males offends you or if it is illegal in your country to read such stories for whatever reason.
The following story contains elements of bondage, water sports, and humiliation; DO NOT read on if this isn't your thing.
I'd always been a thief I guess; my earliest memory is stealing my brother?s ice cream and then telling my Mum he'd dropped it! Of course as a thief, I did time in various youth jails were I leant two things, how to be a better thief and that I liked men. I'd never found the right man outside of prison but this changed when I decided to rob the Liverpool changing room, turning my 27 years on its head, and turning me into a.......... well more of that later!
I knew that there'd be loads of quality gear to nick, these young footie players earned so much money they didn't know what to do with it, platinum credit cards, top name Swiss watches, jewellery it'd all be waiting for a likely lad like me to lift!
Getting into the Liverpool training ground proved ridiculously easy, a track suit nicked from the club shop (well I wasn't going to buy one, was I!), a flash motor hot-wired in the town centre and the old boy on the gates waved me through, if he even saw me.
Parking the car I has a quick look round, yep loads of top range cars, I was in the right place. Walking round the corner, I could see the players in the distance playing a game, watching I saw Michael Owen, Liverpool and England's number one striker, smack in a trade mark goal, my cock twitched in my trackie bottoms, I love to do to him what he'd done to Germany a few years before, total fuck him! But back to the matter in hand, I thought and slipped through the door.
Only a few of the lights were on but there was enough light for my needs. I wandered down the corridor almost on tiptoes breathing as quietly as possible, but the place was quiet, the loudest noise was the lights humming above me. This was too easy!
It took me a little while but I found the changing rooms,
"Yes," I muttered, "fucking yes."
My guess had been right; if the clothes were anything to go by, I'd hit the jackpot! I pushed shut the door to the changing room behind me and started to rifle the clothes, trouser and jacket pockets, training bags. Each player had his own peg so I knew exactly who I was ripping off! As always, when nicking stuff the adrenaline was getting me horny, and as I reached the last peg, my cock was rock hard and straining in my boxer shorts. I gave it a quick rub through the cloth of the tracksuit bottoms, enjoying the feel and it's heat, later I thought, later I'd wank myself silly once I got home. All this fled from my mind when I saw it was Michael Owen's peg! My horniness got the better of me.
Putting down my bag I slowly searched his jacket pocket, and then moved onto his trousers; as I picked them up his underwear fell onto the floor. White fitted jockey shorts! My number one turn on! I felt my cock some how get even harder, I had to do something about it, I could hardly walk.
I listened out but everything was still quiet, in the distance I could make out the noise of the game, cool. I picked up his pants and sniffed them
"Ummmm," I moaned, the hot smell of a man.
I sat down on the bench, easing down my tracksuit bottoms and boxers, releasing my cock into the cool air of the changing room, my foreskin peeling back smearing pre-cum over the purple cock-head. Raising Owens pants to my nose I began wanking my six inches urgently, left-handed of course imaging the England stud sucking on my cock as I breathed in his smell. I pushed my tee shirt over my head and tweaked my nipples before continuing to toss myself silly.
I guess I got carried away stroking on my cock and imaging Owen deep-throating me and drinking my cum. My head was thrown back, my eyes closed as I milked my bell-end spreading more and more pre-cum, making a quite obscene slapping noise as I reached a climax. Certainly I didn't hear the changing room door being pushed open, and then closed but not locked, as I was to discover later, didn't hear the footsteps as someone approached me.
My balls tightened up against my body as I began to wank even harder, I felt my cum begin to fill my balls and cock, then great wads of spunk shot out and splattered across my chest and Owens' pants and finally hit my forehead and started to slide down my face.
"Boy, you are in so much trouble!"
My eyes sprang open and I let the pants slip to the floor where they landed in a sticky pile, my cum drying on them. My rock hard cock shrivelled to nothing, the cum on my face slid towards my mouth, raising my hand I went to wipe it away.
"Leave it!"
My hand froze then slowly fell back down. My mind started working again. I knew I was in trouble the man in front of me was him, Michael Owen and he'd just caught me smelling his underwear and wanking myself daft! I'd need to do some quick talking to get my way out of this.
"Er, look mate I'll just be going. No harm done hey?"
I went to stand up, to tidy myself away, before I got half way up however Owen had closed the gap between us and slammed me back onto the bench.
"Sit down and it's Sir to you not 'mate'. You got that bitch?" With this he slapped the side of my head.
Stunned by this turn around I said nothing.
"I said, 'you got that bitch', fucking answer me!"
"Yeah I got it"
"Yeah what you cocksucker?"
I paused he didn't really expect me to call him 'Sir', did he?
"OK wanker either we do this my way or I call security now!"
Shit, this I didn't need, I decided to play along, and besides I noticed Owen seemed to be getting a stiffy under his shorts. Surely not?!
"Yes Sir!" I heard myself saying.
"That's better" A smile playing across the boy studs face.
I began to drink in the vision in front of me; he'd taken off his boots, that's why I'd not heard him come in. His football socks hung crumpled off his calves, I followed those oh so hot legs up to this massive thighs where the bottom of a pair of cycle shorts peaked out beneath his tight shiny red shorts, which I was sure were beginning to tent out.
I carried on up his body, showed off under the red training top he was wearing.
"Like what you see" he sneered.
Without thinking I whispered "Oh yes!"
He gave out a nasty laugh.
"I bet you do, bitch! Your cock told me as much, never mind your tongue hanging out of your mouth. What a loser"
The sweat from his training session was making his short hair damp and dripping down off his face and landing on the floor. His dark brown eyes were filled with dangerous humour.
"So the little fag likes the smell of my pants does he?" "Likes the smell of a real man in his face does he?"
I said nothing mesmerised by the sweat still dripping off this stud, I could smell the hot man sweat from where I was sitting, my balls churning at the hope I'd be getting some of this boy's arse before much longer.
"Ok fag I want you naked and on your knees."
I decided to let my desires take over and I quickly pulled off my clothes and dropped onto my knees. I wasn't in this stud-muffins class but I worked out regularly and wasn't in too bad a shape.
"Didn't take you long bitch; guess you like doing what you're told! Well you better 'cos by the time I'm through with you you ain't going to be able to walk for a week"
Somehow, I didn't doubt it!
"Ok loser over here now!"
I started to get up.
"NO!" he shouted "on your knees, cunt"
Realising my mistake and shuffled forward until his by now bulging crotch was a couple of feet away from my face. I drank in the smell of a fit young man fresh off the training ground, I was in heaven.
"Yeah that's right smell your fate"
I was so close I could see the blond hairs on his legs glistening with his sweat, feel the heat from his cock and balls on my face.
I looked up at this god who held my fate in his hand and swallowed hard. I wanted this so bad!
"You want this don't ya?" he said gripping his dick and moving it under his shorts. "Well you're going ta get it"
"First though your going to strip me, and you ain't going to use your hands"
I glanced at him again, not believing what was happening, still time to worry later, I knew what I wanted...........
I bent forward and slowly pulled down his right sock, sliding it down his oh so perfect calf, the hairs spring back up, slick with this boy Gods sweat.
I got it as low as possible but I?d have to ask this boy?, master? to help me out here.
"Sir, I can't get the sock off any further, please can you lift you right leg?"
"What a fag, you really are getting off on this, look at you cock, it dripping everywhere!"
I looked down at my dick, I'd never seen it so hard, every pulse of heart pushed more pre (or should that be post?!) cum out of my piss slit, a small puddle had formed on the tiles of the floor.
"Don't worry bitch, you'll be cleaning that up soon!"
Saying this Owen raised his right leg.
"Well, get on with it then!"
I reached forward again and slowly tugged at the toes of the sock, soaked in his sweat as it was it still tasted like honey to me. I managed to pull the sock off but it wasn't easy going.
"Hey fag, your mouth is sure getting a work out, wait till you get my cock down your throat, bitch you ain't goin to be able to breathe!"
I shuffled over and repeated the performance on this left sock, his calf almost as perfect as the right, the taste just as good.
I looked up at this man again, only three bits of nylon/latex between me and the hottest body in England.
"Tell you what fag, I'm getting bored here, I'll give you a helping hand?
On saying this he raised his arms and slowly pulled off his top, throwing it onto the bench.
His perfect torso was there to see, he'd certainly been working out, his pecs were standing proud, his nipples erect, and no hair to be seen anywhere. His pits, damp from the workout demanding the tongue of an obedient slave.
"OK cunt, enough of this, get my shorts off with that fag mouth of yours"
I needed no second telling, I knelt up and got top of his shorts in my mouth, smelling the hot cock and balls within, the smell of sex and sweat. I got the shorts as far down as I could, feeling the hardness of the boy wonders cock as my mouth passed over that most beautiful part of a man, it was huge! Well I thought, no surprise there, this God had it all so why not a massive cock! A good 9 inches, rock hard, thick, with a very hot bell end, it was the baby's arm holding a cricket ball I'd always dreamed of!
A smack on the back of my head, told me to get things, moving, getting the shorts as low as I could at the front, noticing as I did the large damp patch in the cycle shorts, I scootered round to the back and pulled them lower as well.
The damp patch was bigger at the back, not pre-cum this time but boy sweat! Owen stepped out of his shorts, then pushed his arse back into my face, the sweat stained cycle shorts smearing my lips and tongue with this football Gods taste.
I let out a moan of pure animal lust!!
"Fuck, what a bitch, getting off on my sweaty arsehole!!" His contempt was making me even hotter!!
The smell of pure man suddenly got stronger, he'd pulled down his cycle shorts at the back and my tongue at last was lapping at his arse.
"You want it bitch, you've got it" Grabbing behind himself he pulled me further into his arse, the taste driving me insane! Licking deeper into this boy, tasting the man and his sweat, licking the hairs in his arse, reaching deeper in and getting to his ring, darting my tongue deeper and deeper into this ambrosia.
Owen let out his own moan and releasing my head pulled open his legs, letting me get in deeper, my tongue pushing open his ring, swiftly fucking his arse with my tongue.
Owen stepped forward and off balance I fell onto my face, my cock smacking onto the ground erupted out a stream of cum, shooting up under my chin.
"What a bitch you are boy, cumming after licking my arse"
He looked down on me, his cock still caught up in the front of his cycle shorts, the damp patch spreading.
"You better get ready for the next course................"
Part 2 to follow, please let me know what you think, etc, do you want more?!