At the outset I must make the disclaimer that this story is fiction and is not intended to imply anything about the true sexuality of these rugby union players or any personal knowledge about their private lives. I hope it gives some sustenance to readers during the World Cup. Look forward to your comments.
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Henry Arundell had barely got in before the doorbell went. Henry had just come in from a workout in the apartment gym and was pretty knackered and was, frankly, looking forward to an evening crashing on the sofa with a box-set. He was still in training shorts and topless, having been about to go and have a shower -- his ever-increasing bulk and contoured torso looking burnished by recent matches and bruised in parts, the sweat from the weights leaving a gleam across his pecs. He walked across the flat to open the door, only to see Owen Farrell standing there, a six-pack of beer in his hands.
`Faz, mate -- I wasn't expecting you', said Henry, running his hand through his sweaty hair, his biceps looking enormous and almost as thick as his neck.
Owen looked dazed for a moment, having not expected to be treated to this sight, his eyes drifting from Henry's handsome face down his sweaty torso to the tight shorts barely keeping in Henry's enormous thighs which were also sheathed in a pair of compression shorts. Though still only 21, Henry had put on enormous bulk in the past two years.
`Yeah, yeah, I was in the neighbourhood and thought I'd come and give you the news myself.'
`Um, what news?', asked Henry, his other hand now absent-mindedly fondling his crotch, which also drew the attention of Owen whose eyes were now resting firmly upon the rearranged package. Since he and George had started fucking, Owen could barely think of anything else but sex.
`Faz?', asked Henry, smiling curiously at the sight of Faz staring at his crotch, seemingly lost to another world on his doorstep.
`Oh, yeah, sorry, I, er, it's about my news. Racing 92. I'm gonna be joining you there.'
`Mate, fuck, what? Are you serious? That's incredible. Come here', said Henry, his arms now out for an embrace as Faz stepped across the threshold and let Henry embrace his bulk, the smell of his sweat and the heat of his body immediately sending blood to Owen's cock which pressed up against Henry's groin. Anxious that he'd notice, Owen stepped back after the hug, aware that his jeans probably revealed his swollen schlong.
`Yeah, I know. An offer I couldn't refuse and definitely in need of something different after the summer.'
`Well, mate don't just stand there, come in. Let's crack open a pair of those.'
Owen walked into the flat, the door swinging shut behind him as he followed Henry down the corridor, his eyes fixed on the tremendous arse that swaggered in front of him and taking in the smell of the sweat-drenched compression shorts and imagining rubbing his cock up against that peach.
`You've got to tell me everything, mate. This is such incredible news.'
Henry, that much younger than Owen and being the classic southerner public-schoolboy, hadn't expected to get close to Faz when they encountered each other in the England squad. Owen was always somewhat distant, venerated perhaps, and Henry had been in awe of him. Yet the journey of the summer had bred deep respect between the men and Owen had been a good mentor to Henry through the tournament, not least in handling the growing media attention.
They arrived into the open-plan kichen and sitting room, with its stunning views overlooking the river and the sight of the City of London in the distance gleaming in the evening winter light.
Mate, this is one nice pad', said Owen, looking out, this must have cost a shitload.'
Yeah, just renting it,' said Henry. Not sure how long I need to be here because of Paris. Haven't begun to think about that'
Nor me' said Faz. I'm not sure whether to take the family or just to commute back, the kids being at school and everything.'
`Well, if you need a flatmate, Paris is insanely expensive', said Henry, turning to the counter and drinking the protein shake that was on the side, the sweat still glistening across his broad chest leaving Owen wanting to lick him down.
Yeah, no definitely, that could in fact work out well', said Faz, the thought of waking up daily to encounter Henry in his Armani briefs now awkwardly sustaining the hard-on that he was hiding behind the beers. Have you found anything yet?'
`Nah, just started looking, but can keep you in the loop. Or maybe we could look together before training starts?', said Henry looking at his mentor and imagining the insane possibility that he'd soon be living with one of his teenage heroes in Paris.
They sustained eye contact for just slightly too long for comfort.
`I'd like that. I'd like that a lot', said Owen, staring into Henry's eyes before slowly dropping his gaze to Henry's chest and up again to his eyes.
Henry was dazed for a moment. Was Owen hitting on him? He felt unnerved. In fact, since being on the England team he'd been routinely confused by the homoeroticism that seemed to surround him all the time: the bromances between Smithy and DC, Faz and Fordy, even the banter and the arse-slapping that seemed recently to have been an obsession of Tom Curry (whose own recently found jockstrap had become the taunt of the entire team). It was like nothing he'd encountered in teams before and yet, weirdly, he'd found it entirely natural given all that they'd been through together that autumn. Naked much of the time, in and out of each other's bedrooms in the hotel, the towel-stinging in the changing rooms. It was like the hormone-fuelled intensity of his boarding house as a fourteen-year old where, like most English public schoolboys of that age, Henry had taken his own share in shared wanking sessions, soggy biscuit and the rest.
Since the end of the World Cup, Henry had frankly missed the atmosphere. The thought of sharing something of it again while away from home in France with Owen had its own appeal. What the fuck, he might as well lean into it; besides, he could do with a decent flatmate, if nothing else.
`Fuck, your biceps are looking insane at the moment, Faz. How much are you lifting?', asked Henry, stroking his right pec and his nipple as he asked - in what to Owen felt like the signal he'd long hoped for from Henry but had never expected until now. Owen was wearing a tight polo-shirt that left his own pecs and arms looking damn fine, his own nipples now erect through the cotton.
`Was lifting 60kg dumbbell presses this week. The burns were insane.'
`Show me,' said Henry.
Owen felt this must surely be an invitation. He put down the beers on the counter and slowly walked around to Henry, aware of his cock pressed hard up across his thigh and surely visible through his Levis.
Looking him in the eye, Owen brought up his arms and clenched.
`Feel these', he said, smiling.
Henry swallowed hard and stepped forward, the smell of his sweat meeting the sweetness of Owen's cologne. He reached both hands up and slowly took his large hands up to the thick mass of the biceps straining the cotton of the polo shirt, and slowly glided the hands across the arch, admiring the width, the incredible bow of the triceps.
`Mate, fuck. They look -- I mean, they feel -- incredible', said Henry, breathing heavily and laughing nervously.
`Well, go on, show me yours -- looks like you've just had quite the workout', said Owen, grinning, the silence between them thick with the intoxicating smell of Henry's body odour and cologne. Both staring at each other, Henry wondering where the fuck this was about to go. This was something quite different from the mutual masturbation of Year 10: Owen muscle-worshipping him? Really?
`Yeah, yeah, hah, why not?', said Henry as he now mirrored the pose Owen had just held for him, his own arms looking fucking enormous and testament to the insane protein intake and two hours a day in the gym for God knows how long now.
Owen moved closer, inhaling deeply as his reached up, taking in the enormity of the arms beginning with the biceps but slowly moving his broad hands up to Henry's delts.
`Mate, you're really packing it on. Looks great. Fucking great', his hands resting across Henry's massive shoulders, before slowly moving them down to his chest.
`What are you lifting here, mate? Feel these babies', Owen said as his hands moved across the glistening pecs, taking in the breadth of Henry's chest.
`I, er, er, I think it was 180 this week'.
`Good boy, good boy', Owen said as he moved his hands down, taking in the six-pack that seemed to have not a shred of fat upon them.
`I probably need a shower,' said Henry, nervously, trying to take in the fact that he was presently being muscle-worshipped by Owen Farrell of all fucking people.
After he said it, Owen flicked his right nipple with his left hand as he moved his right hand's index-finger moved up to Henry's lips.
`Uh-uh, you're very good as you are. Very good', whispered Owen, as he moved in closer, the body heat between them now oven-hot, Henry feeling Owen's breath upon his face.
`Lift your arms', whispered Owen to him as his moved his left hand down the right side of Henry's torso, his other finger still on Henry's lip.
Henry, now totally confused but trapped in what felt like an erotic lock that he neither understood nor wanted to escape, obeyed his captain.
`Hmmm, you smell fucking amazing, my boy. May I?', Owen asked Henry, who looked at him bemused. Before he could ask what he meant, Owen moved his head into Henry's right pit and inhaled deeply.
What the fuck was happening, thought Henry, is he really about to do what I think he is?
And, before he could do anything, Owen brought his tongue up against the sweat-drenched hair of Henry's pit and hungrily caressed it, taking in Henry's post-workout sweat as though it were some kind of drug as with one hand he held his waist and the other wrapped around his massive neck.
Ugh', Henry involuntarily groaned. Fuck, fuck, Owen'.
Owen himself breathed and sighed deeply as he continued to lick at the pit. `Fuck, you taste good boy'.
`Fuck, fuck, Owen, this is insane', said Henry, breathing rapidly, his pulse racing.
Owen moved from the pit slowly back to Henry's face.
`You're not going to tell your captain he has to stop, are you?', whispered Owen.
Henry had never known erotic tension like it. Where the fuck had this come from? He looked into Owen's eyes, feeling the heat and the smelling his own BO on Owen's breath.
`Fuck, no, sir', muttered Henry as Owen now moved to his other armpit and, this time with more hunger, began to lick his hair as, with his hands, he now flicked Henry's nipples, sending a wild sensation through his body.
`Fuck, Faz, this is insane. Fuuuuck, yes'.
As he continued to lick and breathe deeply in his left pit, Owen moved his hands now down to Henry's arse, his hands slipping beneath his shorts to feel the tight, wet compression shorts cover the hefty weight of Henry's cheeks.
Fuck, my boy has the glutes of a fucking champ', said Owen, returning to look at the utterly dazed face of Henry. Wait till my tongue is deep inside these', he said, as now he moved for a kiss, their searing hot lips meeting each other in what, for Henry, felt like a shock through his entire body, pressed hard now against Owen's bulk, Owen's hands bringing their groins up against each other and both feeling the unmistakeable rock-hard cocks grind against each other between denim, cotton and lycra.
They both groaned as Owen felt Henry push his tongue into his mouth in what began to feel like an oral battle, each to overpower the other.
After about thirty seconds of some of the most intense kissing Henry had ever known, Owen suddenly took his hands from Henry's arse and pushed him hard against the chest, Henry roughly thrust back against the clear glass.
`Don't mind me, but I can't wait', said Owen as, with both hands, he roughly pulled down Henry's shorts to reveal his thick, seven-inch, cock rock hard and seeping precum through the lycra.
`What a sight...we'll come to that. Turn around.'
Henry looked at him nervously. Owen, seeing it, cut in: `Don't be a twat, I'm not going to fuck you raw here in front of the whole of London, as much as I'd like to. Just do it.'
Henry did as he was told, his shorts around his feet, his muscled glutes compressed within the lycra looking magnificent to Owen, the sweat spreading from the crack across the lycra sending pheromones into the air that involuntarily had Owen rubbing his cock as he took in the sight.
`Oh baby Henry, look at this. You're a fucking hot piece of meat, you know that'.
Henry snorted, his hands and chest pressed up against the window, as Owen now slowly peeled down the Lycra to reveal his incredible arse, a light downy hair drenched in sweat, Henry's cock springing up against the window. Owen couldn't wait any longer, and knelt down, quickly undoing his jean buttons and getting out his own meat as, with his other hand he spread upon the cheeks and quickly moved his tongue from the base of Henry's low-hanging balls and -- slowly -- moved his tongue up the sweat-drenched crack. The intensity of the flavours sent Owen into an ecstasy that was expressed in a deep growl as Henry almost stopped breathing, so intense was the pleasure as Owen's tongue ran across his hole.
`Fuuuuccck, Faz, Faz --
`Ugh, yes, my boy', muttered Owen, his voice distorted by both his extended tongue and the muffling of Henry's crack as he lapped up as much of the sweat as he could before moving to probe the tight cunt with his narrowed tongue.
`Fuck, fuck, this is incredible', cried Henry, having never had any woman go anywhere near his hole, the pleasures of Owen's tongue leading to extensive precum leaking from his rock-hard schlong, smearing across the window.
The taste of Henry was out of this world to Owen who was, if he wasn't careful, about to jizz across the floor as he hungrily ate him out.
Turn around', ordered Owen, as he slapped Henry's right cheek. I can't wait for it any longer.'
Henry turned around, his hand thrust through his hair as he took in the sight of Owen before him looking at him with sheer desire on his knees, his massive eight-incher thick in his hand and being slowly wanked.
`This is fucking incredible', Henry said.
`We've only just started, baby', replied Owen, as he gazed with delight as the fat cock of Henry that was drooling furiously, a pool of pre tipping out of his foreskin which Owen moved quickly to take into his mouth before it dripped to the floor.
Fuuuuuck, yes', Henry exclaimed, as Owen took his head, swirling his tongue around its tip to take as much of the pre as he could. Yes, fuck, my God you're good at this. Where the fuck did you learn how to do this?', he laughed semi-hysterically.
`Fordy's been a good teacher', Faz laughed in between taking his cock back into his mouth, deeper this time, and deeper as, like a pro, he showed Henry exactly what George had taught him.
Henry threw back his head, lost in ecstasy but also imagining Fordy with his own mouth wrapped around Owen's glistening cock.
`Well, thank fuck for George Ford', said Henry as Owen worked his length, tasting the increasing amounts of pre that Henry was producing.
`Oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm not going to be able to take much more of this', said Henry as he gave shorter gasps as Owen moved now more furiously, his tongue working like a whip around his head.
`Owen, fuck, fuck, don't stop, fuck, yes, yes, yes -- I'm gonna come, yes, fuck, yes --
As he approached climax, Henry grabbed Owen's head with both hands and thrust it down hard upon his cock as, deep within him, an orgasm spread through him like he'd never known before'.
`Fuuuuuucccck!' he screamed as what felt like multiple orgasms accompanied what, to Owen, felt like a flood entering his throat, the warmth and salt hitting the back of his throat as Henry's pelvis almost seemed to fit, the young blood's jizz firing out of him like his balls were inexhaustible. Owen swallowed furiously, holding the cock deep in his throat, his hands stretched around the magnificent arse holding him firm against the window, a finger caressing his hole gently as he drained Henry of all he had.
Fuck me, fuck me, fuck yes, oh yes, yessss', Henry uttered as he held Owen tight against his groin, his balls up against his captain's chin, who now looked up at him, the desire in his eyes utterly bewitching to Henry. Fuck, fuck, that was insane,' Henry laughed, thrusting a hand to his forehead.
Owen pulled back, continuing to swallow, making sure his own protein shot had been complete, and swirling his tongue across the head as he pulled away, eager to glean what remained and what still pulsated out of him - sending shivers up Henry's spine, his eyes closed again and looking to the ceiling.
Right, you', said Owen, time for you to get on your knees.'
Henry looked at him, anxiously. Mutual masturbation at school was one thing, sucking off another man seemed another.
`Do it'.
Henry felt he couldn't argue at this point and, as Owen rose, he dropped to his knees to face in front of him Owen's cock, curved up and drooling furiously.
`Right, pretty boy. Let's make you prettier', said Owen, as he lifted up his polo-shirt over his head to reveal his sun-kissed torso.
`Stay there. Daddy's going to give you a face he wants to remember.'
Henry looked up into Owen's eyes as Owen now began to slowly, slowly, wank his extensive member with one hand and play with his nipples with the other.
`Ugh, yes, yes, let's see that Harrow face with some northern cream on it, shall we?', said Owen, looking at the handsome face and thick hair of the boy in front of him.
Henry couldn't believe what was happening in front of him but the desire to have Faz spatter him with his jizz was now practically overwhelming. What the fuck had come over him? Had he always wanted this?
Owen now worked his cock more furiously, looking deeply into Henry's eyes as he did so.
`Oh yes, oh yes, you fucking beauty, yes, yes'
Henry, without even thinking about him, lowered his jaw, ready for what he knew was coming.
`Yes, daddy, feed your boy', Henry said (wondering, as he did so, where these words were coming from).
`Oh yeah, you want it, do you? Oh yeah, yeah, fuck yeah', uttered Owen as he could feel deep within him the orgasm rising, his thighs straining still against the jeans, his shaven balls hanging over the zip and rising as -- before he knew it -- what felt like twenty shots began to fire out across Henry's face, into his mouth, his hair and across his pecs. The jizz did not stop coming.
`Fuuuuuuuuuuuck yessssssss', Owen cried, his body buckling as he reached out his hand to steady himself on Henry's shoulder while still furiously wanking, his foreskin stretched back as Henry now moved forward suddenly to take the schlong into his mouth, feeling and tasting the final loads blasting into his mouth and to the back of his throat -- his hand stretching round to take Owen's arse-cheek in his hand through the denim, trying to get as much of his cock into his mouth before gagging.
Oh fuck, yes, good boy, good Henry', cried Owen, my good little cumslut'.
Henry looked up, cum dripping from his eyebrow but mercifully having avoided his actual eye.
He pulled back, a wide smile on his face.
`Fuck me, Faz, that was fucking incredible -- you taste amazing.'
`Come here, you', Owen said gruffly, lifting him up and, with his hand, scooping up his cum spread across Henry's chest and feeding some to Henry who, with closed eyes, took up more of his captain's jizz like it was honey. Then, in a move that took Henry by surprise, Owen took another load from his pec and fed it to himself.
`I can't get enough of my own', Owen said, as he smeared more across his own lips before going in to kiss Henry, drawing him in, their bodies now hot and sticky against each other as they continued to consume each other up against the window, their tongues ranging deep into each other's mouths, trying to taste each other's cum -- their hands ranging up against each other's backs and arses and their still semi-hard cocks pressed thickly against each other, still pulsating red.
Owen pulled out of the kiss, looking deeply into his junior's eyes.
`I think we might have quite the season ahead of us, Mr Arundell.'
`Fuck me, I hope so'.
`I hope that's an order, Henry. Believe me, we're only getting started.'
As they stood there, their bodies and mouths entwined for all of London to see, the winter sun casting a golden beam across Henry's back and arse, Owen fingered his boy gently wondering where the evening would take them.
To be continued...