DISCLAIMER/WARNING: This fictional story depicts homosexual acts between two men in explicit detail with numerous curse words. If reading this is illegal in your country, state, or community, stop. This is completely fictional and fantastical and does not mean to imply anything about the actual thoughts and habits of the persons depicted herein.
OSWALT PITCHES THE ASTROS TO CLIMAX (c) 2005 "makatiboy". All rights not licensed to Nifty Archive reserved.
"Are you ready?" Roger Clemens asked, as he and four other Astros players stood in Roy Oswalt's hotel room bathroom, where the MVP of the 2005 NLCS was kneeling on the tile floor, naked, his hard cock standing straight up as he lightly ran his fingers along it.
Oswalt nodded. "Let me have it," he said, closing his eyes.
Clemens nodded, puffing his victory cigar, and pulled out his cock. The others--Adam Everett, Brandon Backe, Brad Lidge and Lance Berkman--did the same. They closed in around Oswalt's lean, small, wiry body, tanned and lightly furred, naked except for the heavy gold chain around his neck. Berkman grinned and put his arm around Everett, who slipped his arm around Berkman's waist, while Backe and Lidge rubbed their cocks and stood with their legs planted wide apart.
Clemens grinned, yanking at his half-hard monster, and then said, "Time for a real bath, Wonderboy," and started to piss on Oswalt.
The yellow urine splashed on Roy's face, running down his cheeks and chin, getting into his ears, dripping off his rugged jaw and down his hard flat body. "Mm," he said, running his fingers along the bottom of his own cock.
Then the others started pissing on him. Streams yellow, pale, and even clear hit him on all sides, on the back of his head, on his back, his shoulders, soaking his hair, down his body, down his spine into his ass-crack and dripping from his puckered hole as he knelt and took the sport. "Mm," he said again, and then, unable to restrain himself any longer, said, "Yeah, piss," and stroked his cock firmly.
Clemens redirected his piss-stream against Oswalt's lips. "Open your mouth kid," he said. Roy, his eyes still squeezed tight, parted his lips. The piss hit his tongue, sharp and bitter-salty. "Come on, Roy, you know you want to," Clemens goaded, and Oswalt smiled a little and opened his mouth wider, stretching out his tongue, and drank Clemens' piss down his throat.
"Holy shit," gasped Everett, who had never done this before. "Dude, that's so fucking sick!"
Clemens shoved his pants down. He grabbed Oswalt by the back of his head. "You ain't seen nothing yet. Wonderboy here's got a real dirty streak, don't you boy?" And he pressed his cock into Oswalt's mouth and Oswalt's lips closed around the meaty shaft and drank the piss thirstily. "Oh yeah, drain it dry," said Clemens, throwing his head back.
"Fuck, Oz," said Berkman with a grin, his own piss stream ending and now starting to stroke his meaty eight-incher, "where's a man like you learn to act like a cockwhore?"
"Who cares?" growled Backe, who had also stopped pissing and was now jerking openly. "I wanna have at that slut mouth."
"You can have his mouth," said Lidge intensely, staring at Oswalt's muscular, lean ass.
"Easy, kids," smiled Clemens, who was now hard and sloshing his cock around Oswalt's mouth. "This fucking warrior here just pitched us into the World Series. We owe him a hero's fuck."
Oswalt heard the conversation but wasn't really listening. He was concentrating on the taste of Clemens' cock, its thick veins and its plump, chewy flesh. He remembered as a young boy considering the Rocket one of his heroes. Now here he was, sucking his boyhood hero's cock, his hero's piss all over him and in his gut. Could it get any better?
"Uh, fuck, I can't stand it," groaned Everett. The young shortstop thrust his cock against Oswalt's face. "Roy, dude, c'mon, please suck me too."
Oswalt glanced up at his eager teammate, then at Clemens.
"Sure," said Clemens with a fatherly smile. "Whatever you want, Wonderboy."
So Oswalt pulled off of Clemens's cock and took hold of Everett's. He stroked it a moment, studying its skinny, jerking length. And then he smiled casually and with a long slutty lick took Everett into his mouth,
"Oh, man... this is unbelievable ..." Everett's eyes rolled back. He was so lost in the action he didn't care that Berkman had mischievously slipped his hand down Everett's backside and was now rubbing a tricky fingertip against the straight shortstop's hetero hole.
"Shit," said Backe, and grabbed at Clemens and shoved his rough young face against the living legend's jowls. Clemens allowed the contact for a moment before taking control, grabbing the young pitcher and bending him back, raping his mouth with his tongue, putting the boy in his place. At the same time Roy kept hold of Clemens' dick, and now licked it again, and then Everett's, and then, not needing to say a word, pulled them close enough together to get both their heads into his mouth. Berkman was now openly fingering Everett's hole, and the frisky shortstop was unselfconsciously fucking himself against his teammate's fingers. Meanwhile, Lidge had stripped naked, and got down on the piss-puddled floor. He pulled Oswalt's hips toward him.
"C'mon, Oz," he muttered. "Gimme your ass." He spit in his hand and rubbed it against Oswalt's piss-soaked anus and poked two fingers into it. Oswalt felt the violation but didn't make a sound. His only reaction was to slacken his hole invitingly. He went on licking and tongueing the dicks of Clemens and Everett.
The bathroom door opened. It was Andy Pettite. "Hey, Roy," he said, "it's your phone."
Roy pulled off Everett's cock. "What's it say on the screen?"
Pettite looked at it. "'Rob'?"
"That's an old school buddy," Oswalt said. "Let the voicemail take it."
"Hey, Petty," said Berkman, who was now obviously angling to take the wild Adam Everett's ass-cherry and make the shortstop not so straight anymore. "You joining in?"
Pettite rolled his eyes and smiled. "C'mon, man, you know I'm religious."
"So'm I, that's not stopping me!"
For the first time Everett seemed to come to his senses. "Whoa," he said, four Berkman fingers stretching his hole as he stood there with his cock alternating with that of Clemens in Oswalt's mouth. He saw Pettite. "Hey Pets."
"Hey Ev. Looks like you're in trouble."
"I know," gasped Everett, as Berkman pulled his fingers out and quickly replaced them with his cockhead. " ... holy shit ..."
"Andy." It was Clemens. "Come on, it's a party. Let Wonderboy here taste some of that pure Christian cock of yours."
Pettite looked dubious, but sighed and smiled embarrassed at Oswalt. "Well," he said, "okay."
He unzipped his pants and took out his handsome seven-incher. "Sorry it's not too hard," he said. "This really isn't my usual scene."
Oswalt shrugged. "No prob," he said matter-of-factly, and took it into his mouth. As he worked to get Pettite hard, Clemens pulled his old Yankee teammate into a lascivious kiss. Backe, thoroughly dominated by Clemens, was now on his knees, replacing Oswalt as the legend's cocksucker.
"SHIT!" Everett's yelp was so loud they all turned to look. The scrappy straight boy had his pants completely off and was taking Lance Berkman's power tool up his unschooled manhole. "JESUS CHRIST!" Everett gasped. "That fucking HURTS!"
"Feels good from where I am," joked Berkman.
Oswalt smiled and turned his attention back to Pettite. He knew his friend was only doing this for the heck of it, so he resolved to bring him off quickly. At the same time, Lidge was still working at his ass, and Roy felt he was loose enough to take the hot young closer's prick.
He pulled off Pettite's cock long enough to say to Lidge, "Brad, you can fuck me anytime now."
Lidge grunted. "Don't need to be told twice." He got up on his knees, pulled Oswalt into a doggie position, and slowly and firmly pushed his eight-inch tool into Roy's experienced ass.
"Jesus," said Pettite, watching Oswalt take the cock. "I remember when you did that to me five years ago," he said to Clemens. "I still don't know how fags actually enjoy that."
"It's not just queers," said Clemens. "Some guys just have an itch for cock. Roy's no fag, are you, Roy?"
"Does that mean I'm not a fag?" gasped Everett as he took Berkman's happy plowing.
"No, Ev, I think you've been turned out good by now!"
Everett looked crestfallen. "Aw, man ..." But he didn't stop Berkman's steady power strokes.
"Whew," said Pettite, his saturnine face flushed. "Okay, I'm close."
"Pull out," said Clemens. "Cum on his face."
Pettite shook his head but did as he was told. Oswalt closed his eyes waited tight-lipped as his straight buddy jerked his tool. In moments Pettite was gasping, "Here it comes," and spewed globs of gleaming pearly cum. It landed on Oswalt's face, his nose, his chin, and on his lips. He held stock still, taking the cum facial as Lidge fucked him, until Pettite said "Okay, I'm done, that's enough sin for me tonight," and then let himself venture his tongue out to lick the jism for a taste.
"Fucking slutty, Oz," said Lidge. Roy smiled. He didn't turn, but arched his back so the young closer could get more leverage against his ass walls. "Fuck me, Lidge." And he knelt there and took it.
"Thanks for the blowjob, man," said Pettite, zipping up his pants. "I've got to go meet the wife."
"Tell her hey," said Roy, opening his eyes.
He looked around. For a straight boy, Everett had turned out to be one cockhungry fuck. He was as naked as Roy was now, his hands and a leg up against the bathroom wall. The fuck by Berkman was now a game, with Berkman toying with Everett's stretched out hole, poking it at various angles, shoving in deep and pulling out all the way, slapping Everett's skinny ass. "You like that, bitch?" Berkman asked nicely.
"Aw, fuck yeah, make me a bitch, treat me like a dirty girl," moaned Everett.
Berkman rolled his eyes and smirked at Oswalt. "How you doing, Wizard of Oz?"
Oswalt smiled. Lidge was fucking him with none of Berkman's shit: just long, deep, hard, ballslapping thrusts, plunge after plunge and plunge. "Great," he said. Next to him, he saw Backe, the tough macho boy, gagging on Clemens' cock, jerking his own prick desperately as he served his new daddy.
Clemens caught Oswalt's eye. The big, hale Hall of Famer smiled and then grinned. Oswalt smiled too, happy to be at the center of this scene, happy to have pitched the best he could and won a chance at the World Series for his city and his team. These guys deserved it. Just like they deserved to have his mouth and his ass. He closed his eyes, sighed, happy, and took a huge load from Lidge deep into his ass.
Half an hour later, covered with cum from Everett and Backe, dripping cum from Lidge and Pettite and Clemens, Roy Oswalt picked himself up off the floor and emerged from the bathroom.
There was only one other person in the room now, smiling at him. Roy smiled too and went for an embrace.
"Didn't join the party," he said.
Brad Ausmus laughed, flashing his bright grin. "I'm selfish. I'm like Bags and Biggs: I like my manfucking one-on-one."
"Did they stop by?"
"You kidding? After they told their wives they were going to spend the night with each other, they went to their hotel room and haven't come out since. Biggio's probably got his ass full of a second dose of Bagwell right now."
They kissed. "Oh, fuck me, Ausmus," begged Roy.
Ausmus chuckled. He laid Oswalt across the bed, spreading his legs, aiming his hard eight-inch cock against Roy's cum-sloppy hole. "Haven't you had enough?" he joked.
Roy grinned. "You never count," he said, and lay back and closed his eyes as his ass was filled with Ausmus' sweet hard cock.
His wife's arms wrapped around his naked body as Roy lay in bed. In the other bed, Ausmus was snoring. "Hey," he said with a grin.
"Hey," she replied. She was unbuttoning her blouse, smiling knowingly at him. "I was wondering where my husband was. I realized, after saving the season tonight, he was probably with his teammates..." She reached up along his naked thigh and onto his ass and slid her finger along his asscrack, still moist with other men's cum. "And I was right," she finished.
Oswalt smiled meekly. "The kids asleep?"
"Fast," she replied, removing her clothing and slipping in next to him. She sniffed his piss-dried hair.
"The guys had some fun with me," Oswalt explained.
"No kidding," his wife wryly replied.
THE END
see you in the world series!