My Boss Steve 2
Chapter 4
This is part 2 of the story about my boss. It's based on a real character who I've been chatting to after he read one of my other yarns. I hope you enjoy it and if you haven't already read part 1, I suggest you read that first, though that's not vital.
I'd love to hear what you think of the tale: my email berks4326@aol.com
The story is fiction and is not intended to imply anything about the true sexuality of the celebrities mentioned or any personal knowledge about their private lives.
Nifty can only continue with donations, so please give any Pounds, Dollars, Yen or Euros etc. that you can. I don't think they accept herds of goats!
"I see," Federer had said looking uncomfortable in his seat, his face a little red. Steve was not sure, but it appeared that the guy had his hand `down there' adjusting himself. He stood up, unable to hide his erection, "Come Steven, we must practise more"
They spent the next hour or so working on the strategic side of the game and, the stocky Swiss star showed him the importance of mental agility, the psychology of the game and how to affect your opponent's play by making him feel like a loser by dominating him.
Steve was exhausted, but by the time they finished, felt he'd learnt a lot. They picked up their stuff and walked back to the building.
"I'm going to shower. Do you want to as well?" Steve felt there was something a bit sleazy about the way Federer made the suggestion.
"No, I'll shower back at the room." They sat on a bench and put the borrowed rackets back in their sleeves.
Federer laid his hand gently on Steve's thigh."And did you let your friend `do' you too?"
Was the man getting off on what Steve had told him and wanted to hear more?
"Remember Steven, tomorrow you play two matches. You must win both to get to the next round so you play me. I mean of course, me or one of the other professionals here. You know how important it is to tell me everything to clear you mind."
"It only happened once and I was very drunk," Steve said. It didn't really sound like much of an excuse or justification when he said it out loud.
He and Don had gone to the club with a group of fellow soldiers. A couple of his colleagues had disappeared with the girls they'd been chatting up and Don was somewhere using his lines. Steve had tried his best, using chat-up lines he'd learnt while coached by Don, but the girl he'd singled out just looked at him like he was a pervert, made an excuse and quickly left. Don joined him again soon after. "Any luck Steve?"
"'fraid not mate," Steve responded trying his best to sound confident. "You?"
"Nah. That blond said she was on her period and the tart I met last time we were here a couple of months ago, was with her husband. She said they were celebration her being pregnant."
Steve felt shocked. "D'you think....." he stopped himself, suddenly realising the enormity of what that possibility might actually mean. "I mean d'you think we should have another beer?"
"I know what you were really wondering chum, and the answer is, I don't really give a stuff. If it's mine, her old man will never know and anyway I'll be miles away probably. And yes, mine's a draft lager. If we're not going to get lucky, we might as well get slaughtered."
Don insisted on more beer, then said they should try some of the club's cocktails. Then later, after a couple of shots, things got fuzzy for Steve and what he next remembered was waking up with a headache, naked in his bed. He'd laid there for a while with his hand across his forehead, then got up gingerly and stood between the beds looking for his watch on the cabinet between.
While he was fumbling about, he felt a finger gently stroking the fine, wiry hairs on the underside of his scrotum. It tickled and he moved back. "Get off. I thought you were asleep Don. What happened last night? I don't remember. What time is it? Hell, my head hurts." Steve looked down at the dishevelled face in the adjacent bed.
"You were bloody filthy last night mate," Don grinned. You kept on about how big your dick was and how you were always told how good it felt when you were plugged hard up someone."
"Oh God, did I really?"
"Yup. You went on and on about it. The others thought you meant you'd had loads of women, but I knew you were making it up!"
Steve again felt the gentle finger caressing. "Don...."
"Come on pal. Hop in here," He lifted the covers."You know how horny I get with a hangover."
Steve felt blood heating his cock and felt it rise. He wondered if he too was perhaps affected by a hangover in the same way. Then there was a warm, wet mouth enclosing his tender knob. He knew he could so easily be persuaded.
"Come on." He was being pulled towards the bed by the hand on his thigh and, giving in, he crawled in beside his room mate.
They lay facing each other, then Steve felt the other's hand on his bum, pulling them closer, cock pressing against cock, both men feeling the need for release, but only one of them with a plan of how to achieve that happy result.
"Turn over," Don instructed. "You know, you need to understand exactly how good your prick actually does feel when it's working away inside; rubbing all the right places."
"I don't understand, Don," Steve wrinkled his brow but turned over anyway so he was facing away from the other body in the untidy bed. He felt a hand on his erection.
"I'll show you, dip-shit. I want you to understand. All part of your education." Don
shimmied down the bed.
"God, Don. What the ff aaah." Steve had felt a hand slide under the hip he was lying on and the other on top, so both hips were being gripped. When he felt the warm, wet tongue sliding into the crack between his arse-cheeks, he was completely unable to move away. "Don stop. Don, please, I don't like it. Oh. Don it's not right, you shouldn't be.... Oh fuck. Oh yes."
Steve couldn't stop him. Actually, he thought to himself, that's not quite true. He couldn't bring himself to stop him, to end the acute, filthy, blissful feeling of being licked and probed `there'.
Soon, he felt a wetted finger being pushed in. This was too much. He clenched his bum-muscle, trying to eject the intruding finger, but it just felt nicer.
"Mmm, that's tight," he heard from behind him, the finger now moving back and forth.
"There, you see. That's an idea of how good your dick feels, how good a cock feels up there. Hold on." Steve felt his leg being pushed forwards so he was half lying on his front, then jumped when he felt some cold, slimy stuff being spread over what he thought of as the most private and personal part of his body. Something a little thicker: two fingers or maybe a thumb was now being insinuated inside him. He gasped and moaned loudly as the slippery intruder curled and found an even more sensitive and stimulating spot inside. "Mmm Don. That's, oh."
"Now you know why I like it," Don stopped and moved back up the bed. It made Steve take stock.
"Yes, OK mate. You like it, but it's not for me. I'm just not like that."
"Like what?" Don pressed himself against Steve's back.
"You know; I'm not, um, that gay." He felt Don's leg move over his own and the heat of a stiff prick hard and pressing under his balls. "And you can stop that right now. This has gone far enough."
"Oh come on baby. Please. I want you to know how it feels. You need to know."
"Yeah right," Steve snapped. We both know the real reason you want to. And stop calling me baby!"
"OK then. You owe me. Come on, you know you do. Just this once. Please."
"You're such a sleaze-bag Don." Steve realised his pal was right and knew that morally, he'd have no option but to comply. He once again felt his cock being squeezed and then the searing heat of the other cock being gently wiped up and down over his slippery hole.
Don moved forwards so he was half lying on Steve and pressed his knob firmly against the tight muscle.
"Fuck Don. Are we really going to do this?"
"Just relax baby; relax that beautifully tight bum-muscle just a little bit... aah yess"
"Ow, ow ow. Jeeez Don. I didn't think it could hurt this much. How do you take.... Oh fuck. I don't want to. Please Don."
"OK mate, I'll just keep it there for now. It'll feel nice in a mo, you'll see. Feels so good though; so nice and tight. That's it, grip my tool mmm."
Steve felt the slick heat of the solid-feeling rod sliding further inside. It didn't hurt any more, Don was right. It just made him feel sort of full up. He felt his mate thrust in and out now, the muscular, stocky body of the shorter man powering his hips against Steve's bum and the fat cock deep into his hole. One arm wrapped round him, pressing his back tightly against the firm chest of the man behind him, the other clamped tightly round his erect, aching cock, wanking him off.
"You're a nice fuck, Steve." The thrusts were getting faster. Harder and deeper. "Oh yes, yesssss. That's it. I'm gonna fill you so full baby."
Steve could feel the pulsing, throbbing dick embedded deep, it's warm juices squirting inside. He wondered if it felt the same for Don when he was doing this to him, but all thoughts left him as he felt his own orgasm build. He heard himself shout some ecstatic words as he spewed his cum over his mates hand and the sheets. The thought that there was something so different, so special about pumping out your load when your arse was full of hot, hard dick went through Steve's mind.
It was OK he thought. In fact, it was good to feel he had helped a mate but, he thought to himself, not really for me.
"So how was it?" Don asked when they'd recovered and their breathing slowed.
"OK. In fact, quite a nice experience to climax with that full feeling in your bum eh?"
"Just quite nice?" Don was still panting a little. "And why did you shout, `Oh uncle Max' when you came?"
"No I didn't", Steve responded sharply.
"But you did mate."
"No. No, I must have said "Up to the max", or something." Steve was thinking quickly now. He'd never told a soul about what he'd done with his Father's younger brother on their fishing trips.
He had told the famous Swiss tennis champion an outline of what had happened, none of the detail.
It wasn't long afterwards that Don had moved to another unit and Steve had a new room mate, a morose chap who struggled to make any sort of conversation. Steve was sure the guy wouldn't make it far in his chosen career.