premiership-lads-121

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Subject: Premiership Lads part 121: Sand In Your Pants Part 121: Sand In Your Pants The flat countryside sprawled away from the narrow road, ending in a thin strip of sparkling amber where the early evening sun met the North Sea. A dull day was giving way to a fine, golden-hued twilight, and the pair of them had shout into it on their bikes. The two young Norwich players and their whizzing bicycles cast long shadows on the empty road, picking up speed as they neared the coast, both glancing up appreciatively at the sweeping vista. Taking the lead with a little burst of power from his legs, Todd Cantwell kept one fist on the handlebars as, with the other, he lifted up his phone in selfie mode and streamed live to his social media, grinning vainly into the recording and noting how good his blond locks looked, swept back by his own wind. Golden hour. Pretty boy. He grinned at himself and then angled the shot, with half an eye on the road, to take in the view of his riding buddy. More fixated on the twisting road ahead, Max Aarons lifted his head and shot a sceptical look at Todd’s camera-phone before letting out a little huff of disapproval, then quickly changing his expression, a posed smile for the footage. A quick gesture of urban cool with one hand, in between nervous glances back at the road, then a fuller shake of the head. `Honestly, put it away!’ he crowed at his teammate, kicking forward with refreshed speed and leaving Todd in the dust of his wheels. `All about the `gram!’ Cantwell jeered back at him with a self-conscious snigger, ending the little recording and dropping that hand to regain safer control of the bike. As one, the lads twisted smoothly around a long corner and onto the slight dip that led down to the seafront car park, almost entirely empty. Beyond it, a tufty horizon of grass dividing tarmac from the gorgeous north Norfolk coast. Almost as soon as his bike had skidded to a halt between his thighs, Todd straightened his body and angled his camera at this deeply insta-worthy view. Click, post, smirk. `You’re mad with it, bruv,’ criticised Aarons gently, hopping off his own bike a few metres away, still shaking his head. `Seriously. Mad.’ The young Londoner pulled up to the wooden fence and seemed to look about uncertainly, as if deciding if it was safe for them to leave their expensive leisure bikes here by the front. `You’re just jealous cos you ain’t got my following,’ Norwich’s 22-year-old midfield sensation announced with playful vanity, steering his bike up and dumping it against Max’s with a clang. He pushed the phone into his shorts pocket and straightened up his windswept hair, grinning at Max’s pouty little frown. `It’s alright, we can leave the bikes here. This ain’t London, remember! We’re in NORfolk, mate…’ Max scoffed but grinned. `Yeah, four years of this shit, I know nothing happens here, except for old white racists suspecting ME…’ He grinned self-consciously at the political statement and joined Todd as he led the way over the grassy verge and down onto the marbled dunes approaching the waters. Todd gave him a sympathetic smile, tossed an arm about his shoulders and squeezed a little, then led the way down the sloping sandy path. `No harm in a bit of social media,’ Todd said, returning to the criticism. `Was just a quick vid for my fans — I mean, beautiful fucking views and all, perfect lighting.’ He shrugged, dismissive. `You can all rib me as much as you like, I’m a star, ha ha.’ He was more amused than offended by his growing `diva’ reputation among the Norwich City men — especially now that certain, ahem, consequences were less immediate memories. He strutted his way down the path, kicking up sand with his new trainers and feeling it flick his bare tanned shins. He rolled up the arms of his tshirt to maximise sunshine on his lean biceps. Max, in his low and cautious London accent, was telling him about how too much posing and posting might make people take him less seriously as a sportsman; pfft, judgmental nonsense. He didn’t resent his younger pal’s concern, just society’s naff standards and cultural obsessions. `I’m thinking of quitting mine,’ Max said, as they reached the flatter sands and neared the water’s edge. `Just full of bullshit, right? Whole lot of it.’ A less serious tone: `Especially your bullshit posts, Todd! Hah…’ The Hammersmith-born defender chuckled to himself, and joined in as Todd stooped to yank off his trainers and dip his toes in the cold froth of waters that crawled in and out. The pair of them strolled on through wet sand for a bit, Todd saying nothing as Max bemoaned the negativity and bitching he saw all over social media. Todd was thinking about how many likes his sunset picture would get, and of the hot Norfolk village girls who’d be DMing him in response to the footage of his cool bike ride, gleaming in his white tshirt and luxurious blond hair. `The messages you get sent!’ Aarons muttered scandalously just behind him. `Seriously, got one so weird the other week I just had to delete it and pretend it never happened — you’ll never guess who from.’ Todd just made a vague `hmm’ noise, leaving his vain Gen Z thoughts behind and eyeing up just how beautiful the darkening skyline was over the North Sea. Its chill on his toes and ankles was pleasant against the warm sun setting in the other direction. He was thinking about the quiet day they’d had at the training ground, the coaches slowing down and conserving energy as their first proper match in months loomed closer. He paused as he tuned back in on Max’s words, accidentally letting the other player walk right into him from behind. `Sorry?’ Cantwell exclaimed, looking over his shoulder. `Jamie Redknapp, yeah,’ Aarons repeated. `That’s a bit odd, right?’ Todd looked away to hide the odd, panicked expression on his face, clearing his throat with an exaggeratedly masculine noise. `And what was he saying?’ he demanded, walking on and letting Max follow. The chill of the water on his feet and the breeze on his hairy calves felt more sinister and unsettling than dreamily satisfying. His hands curled subconsciously into fists. `Oh, it was real odd, bruv — I mean, he was very complimentary — something about my pics on the Norwich feed, from training, you know… Said I was filling out real nice, and…’ Max trailed off, becoming vague. `I dunno, something about giving me a call. I mean, he’s a bit of a legend I guess, in his own way, but… I just deleted it. Pretend I never read my DMs or whatever. Like I say, might delete my account. The messages from the fans are pressure enough without fucking Sky pundits bothering me for attention…’ Todd made the same vague `hmm’ noise but with a note of self-conscious worry. He traipsed on, the stunning Norfolk scene briefly tainted by this surprising coincidence. Coincidence? Perhaps not. How many lads did sleazy old Redknapp approach via that app, then…? Todd thought awkwardly about Max’s dismissive, self-assured attitude. The 20-year-old sounded so unfazed and disinterested in the sudden attention from one of the country’s major football voices. He compared this mentally to his own giddy excitement — overexcitement. `You sure don’t get views like this in London,’ Aarons said quietly, interrupting him. Todd grinned his agreement, pushing down his little flaring concern at that whole episode of recent strangeness; what did it matter, really? Harmless bit of banter. He’d enjoyed himself, hadn’t he? He let himself leave that little question behind, distracted by Aaron’s updates on his agent’s efforts to talk to Arsenal and engineer his London comeback. Both lads were the centre of a lot of transfer speculation, so it was good to discuss it together. Todd himself felt deeply conflicted by the apparent interest of several major clubs, loyal as he was to the local club he’d supported since he could kick a ball. But like his social media antics, the potential moves excited him with the idea of increased fame and attention. He couldn’t help but fantasise about his own prominence at some top-4 team, cruising through European tournaments and bagging some hot popstar wife, and… Okay, Todd, calm down a second! They veered away from the water’s edge and climbed back into the hillier dunes ahead. Todd couldn’t believe just how quiet the beaches were today. They’d chosen a perfect evening to cycle up here from the club’s training grounds, he was just wishing they’d sneaked a couple of cans into Max’s backpack. He loved these beaches more mersin escort than any other bit of the gorgeous English county, and recognised them as the scene of many a teenage milestone. That car park they’d ditched their bikes in, he’d tried his first fag there, coughing and spluttering and deciding quite quickly that it was just not for him! His footballing career had surely benefited from that grim first attempt. And dunes like this, he remembered, had made great little party spots for secret illegal bonfires with some of his schoolmates. Ahead of them, the dunes rose up like proper hills and between the bumps was a tiny valley of thicker grass, beneath a few rickety signs that all pointed the wrong way… he grinned nostalgically and remembered the drunken night they’d done that damage, long unnoticed by any authority… oh, that night… `Fuck,’ he announced coming to a halt, remembering that night in full. `What?’ Max asked, stumbling to a stop to his left. He’d just been in the middle of describing an awkward meeting with his agent over video call, discussing his career priorities, and looked quite alarmed by Todd’s interruption. `I think I lost my virginity here,’ Todd announced. `Yeah, it was definitely here.’ He laughed at the rush of memory and his need to spill it. He saw Max’s expression of mixed amusement and confusion. `Right, thanks for that…’ `Well, just thought you’d want to know…! Haha… After all, you’re still planning where to lose yours, right?’ He shot a cheeky wink at the 20-year-old and left the direction of their path, stumbling a bit through the thickets of seagrass and into the deeper bowl between the dunes, feeling his ankles slide in a bank of deeper sand. `Right there, in fact.’ He pointed at the spot and dropped into a sitting position on the slope, chuckling. Sand kicked at his side as Max caught up and dropped heavily into a sitting position beside him. `You lost your cherry on a sand dune… So fuckin’ Norfolk…’ `Hah, well where was yours, up the Gherkin or on a tube train or some shit…?’ He prodded him with a warm elbow as he smirked. `Well, if you don’t wanna know…’ `Oh, go on then. We’re here now. You fucking melt.’ Max peered critically down the rough slope, clearly debating the privacy of this dip in the dunes. He seemed unconvinced but he looked intrigued, which titillated Todd on some silly intimate level. `Well it was just a girl in the year above at school,’ Todd said slowly, `Kelly, was her name. Is, I guess. I think she’s a nail technician now in the city, hah… Aww, it was good fun, you know? We used to come get drunk around here most Fridays, you see. Country kids. God, we’d litter it so bad, feel a bit shit about that now…’ `But not popping some babe’s cherry on the beach…! You must have had sand in your pants for days, buddy…’ Aarons sniggered and rubbed at the thin goatee on his chin, shaking his head again with that familiar playful disapproval. There was always something entertainingly prudish about the London kid who’d spent his formative years up here in the sticks since signing his youth contract with Norwich at 16. Todd liked that it was probably meant to be the other way round, but his own teenage years of rural life had been suitably debauched, in their own way. Dunes, barns, the back of a tractor, under a hedge… where hadn’t he charmed his way into a pair of wet knickers? `Well, why should I regret THAT? It was a memorable first shag… I mean, I was probably absolute dogshit at it, newbie, but… I was only fifteen or something. Not sure I ever spoke to her again after that.’ He tugged unconsciously at the white fabric of his tshirt and let his other hand rub briefly at the pulled bulge in the front of his shorts, remembering teenage lust after too many cans of Strongbow. Then he peered curiously at Max. `Well, what about your first time?’ Max actually blushed, bless him. `Oh, you don’t wanna know!’ `Yeah I do — that’s why I asked, you fruitcake. Go on.’ Todd nudged him more roughly with his arm, grinning at the cute boyish right-back who had quickly become one of his closest friends on the squad. `Was it before or after you moved out here, first of all…?’ `After,’ Max groaned back reluctantly, `so I wasn’t as pipsqueak young as you when I did it…’ `Well, no harm in that, hah, like I say… I bet I was fuckin’ tragic in my performance there in the sands…’ He pointed dramatically at the spot just ahead of them, picturing it in his head. Short darker hair, spotty as fuck, gangly and awkward, but horny and drunk and riding high on his local reputation as a potential REAL footballer for Norwich. Every other lad claimed to have had trials for them at some point, but Todd had shone at school for his early commitments with the local club. It had been absolute catnip for the young ladies. `I was… 19,’ Max admitted very quietly, wrapping his arms over his bare knees and dropping his chin moodily against them. Todd stared at him, doing the quick simple maths. `Yes, so LAST YEAR,’ the younger guy added sulkily. `Don’t — don’t start, Todd…’ Cantwell was surprised to say the least, but he tried his best not to show it. He knew Max was a little bit shy around girls but he was no solitary weirdo; the idea that he’d played strident aggressive football for Norwich youth team alongside him for several years without getting his cock wet was a flashy headline to Todd this evening, in his gently aroused mood. Mad to think that the cherub-faced young bloke had only just experienced it last year…! `One of the physios at work,’ Max confided with a tiny sly pride in his eyes, despite his obvious discomfort at the admission. `I just… I’d just never… quite gone all the way, you know, and then… Hah, mate, I can’t believe I’m…’ `Go on,’ Todd said. He heard how keen he was, faintly surprised. Well, no harm in it. `I was getting a massage, you know?’ `Well yeah, like we always do…’ `But on my own, just me and her, so-` `Which one?’ `I’m not saying!’ `Oh go on — that MILF who’s like 40 or something? Oh yes, it definitely was, I can tell from y-` `I’m NOT saying… jeez! Does it matter? She was just giving me my rubdown, and we were alone, and it was real nice, it kinda went on longer than it probably should have, and… well, I totally got a boner, and then next thing you know, instead of freaking out or getting weird about it, she’s just… massaging it.’ Max squirmed against the sand, pulling both hands over his youthful face. `Why am I telling you any of this…?’ `I dunno, but I am horny as hell hearing it,’ Todd admitted with a hesitant laugh; his left hand still rested a little between his legs, playing against the way the tight dark green nylon cupped and held his package; his right arm lifted to pat somewhere on Max’s shoulders a little, a comforting motion. `Buddy, no need to be embarrassed, you know — no big deal that you didn’t quite get there earlier on, you know. Maybe you just weren’t ready, so…’ `But my first fucking time was on a massage table AT WORK,’ Max groaned. He laughed uncomfortably into his palms and shrugged off Todd’s friendly hand. `I mean, I’d done STUFF before that, but… yeah, that was my first shag, mate. There and then on that table. Fuck…! Ugh — well, at least it wasn’t a sand dune…’ Todd laughed happily at this and allowed himself a gentle squeeze of what lurked between his sun-browned thighs. He grinned at the awkward, blushing face of the other player, reached for his back again. He did feel some of Max’s embarrassment, for all his attention-seeking and jokey provocation this evening, he was aware of how excited he was getting, and of how the pair of them never usually talked QUITE so frankly about this kinda thing… although now he knew why, there usually hadn’t been much to discuss! He thought of all the girls Aarons had vaguely `dated’ since turning up as a cute-faced teen on a youth contract. Clearly, a lot less had always been going on than any onlooker might have imagined… `As if you fucked her there!’ Max yelped, waving one hand down the slope and sitting up a little. The sky above them was paling more, a darker blue creeping slowly from one side to the other. Bands of gold still seeped from behind them to the west. Todd just tittered at his friend’s disbelief, calculating that a massage table in Norwich property was probably dirtier and riskier than a quiet beach on the Norfolk coast, so he just shoved roughly at Aarons and giggled at his escort mersin inconsistent prudishness. `Yeah I did, and I remember it well,’ he teased, `the way she whined, how quickly I blew my wad, all the good and the bad, haha… God, my dick is getting hard just remembering those stupid teenage days…!’ He had to admit this, he just had to blurt it, but he could hear that same strange keenness to his voice, it reminded him of how excitedly he’d responded to Redknapp’s distant attention. Instead of filling him with a burst of confused shame, this time, it just incited the semi in his shorts more. `Are you really?’ Max demanded. `I mean… me too, a bit… haha.’ He added, in a bit of a rush, `I’ve had plenty of birds since then, you know, I might have been a late starter, but-` `Whatever you say chief,’ Todd teased. Max had agreed, hadn’t he? He’d okayed this. He’d made it less embarrassing. So at that thought, he leaned back a little, and lifted one leg more, so he could rub more freely between them with his left hand. He saw Max look over, cute brown eyes bulge a little, but say nothing. `It’s just thinking of that first-time nerves, you know?’ he said himself, a bit quietly. `Got me really needing to jerk one off…’ `Well maybe wait til you get home,’ Max chuckled gruffly, sliding an inch away over the sandy grass and fiddling with the fine gold chain at his neck. `That’s what I’m gonna do…’ `You sure?’ The Norwich midfielder slid the hand in under the waistband of his shorts, letting his fingers rest in the warmth between tight elastic and his own waist. `I mean — it’s pretty discreet here, innit? Mate, I banged a chick right THERE, and…’ His giggle sounded high-pitch and worried but he tried to keep his body language loose and confident. Like Max, he slid away a bit, pulling his body over the sand, and looking around this little bowl of rough seagrass, checking they were alone. `I think I might just have to get mine out!’ he announced in a quietly excited voice. `I am fuckin’ horny,’ Aarons conceded a little more firmly. He was shuffling about on his backside, brushing sand of his brown legs, pulling again at the collar of his dark blue tshirt. `But I dunno, getting my dick out here, buddy…’ `Who’s gonna see?’ Todd asked him, though one obvious answer met him in both of their apprehensive expressions. But they’d seen each other’s dongs how many times in the shower…? That could hardly count. Instead of arguing it or trying to persuade Max it was okay, he thought he’d lead by example. He pushed down his shorts and the white undies beneath a little, let his cock flop out, well on its ay to fully erect. `Oops, there he is…!’ `Jesus mate.’ Max was shocked but laughing. `You really are an attention-seeking prick…’ `Well stop giving me attention, give some to yourself.’ `Ha ha, Cantwell, you bugger… fuck this… erm… you sure this is gonna be cool?’ `We didn’t see a soul walking by here. Come on.’ Todd turned away from him and looked down at the raging stiffness in his hand. He stroked it with his right palm and pushed down more at his shorts with the other, ragging them over his thighs and knees and letting them drift down to his ankles. He stopped playing with himself long enough to whip up his white tshirt, stripped off now, his toned 5ft10 body stretched on the sandy slope. As he folded the tshirt into a little headrest, he turned to watch his mate: Max was pulling his baggy dark tshirt up and off, baring a body that was a little broader than his, though less sharply defined. Just as smooth, a rich brown with very dark nipples. He made Todd look milk bottle white, even though he’d spent half his days off lounging about in the garden without a shirt on, working on his golden complexion. Max’s skin just looked so smooth and soft, Todd thought, betting it was really nice to touch. His cock throbbed and he looked back at it, needing to attend to this excitement. It stood rigidly to attention, foreskin curling back a little, balls pulled tight beneath the base. Mmm. He spat in his palm and stroked it some more. That was when he saw Max’s piece. Todd had never really given much thought to his own endowment until he’d been confronted with another man’s on webcam, but now he felt hyper aware; he’d discreetly compared a few flaccid ones in recent shower sessions, but that was hardly the same. Now he was seeing another hard-on fairly close, and appreciating how big some guys got. Max was the same height and rough build as him, no big burly bloke, but… wow. The length and girth of that thing. He realised how much he was staring only too late. `Do you mind?’ the Londoner snapped a bit defensively. `Buddy,’ Todd said honestly, `I just never… wow. Fuck. That poor physio woman.’ `Shut it… daft mug… just get on with your own…’ And so Todd did. He lay there, back to the sun-warmed sand, wanking his slim average prick with a peculiar excitement. What made this wank more fun? The risk of being out here, minimal as it was? The freshness of the air and environment? The discussion of long abandoned virginity and the thought of how many dirty little exploits he’d been up to since then with however many fit birds? Or the company of his well-hung pal, now grunting faintly as he pulled back on his big swollen thing? All of them, maybe. He tried not to look, sensing Max’s shyness, but it was hard not to see it out of the corner of his eye. He had to fix his stare on the grassy horizon opposite to keep his eyes (and his mind) from wandering. But there was also Max’s panting, really ragged and hurried breaths as the similarly undressed defender pleasured himself. The loud gurgle of him spitting in his palm just as Todd had done, but repeatedly. Cantwell thought of the video chat with Jamie: what a fucking weird business that had been, really. He was still faintly sure the whole thing was a piss-take and the old bloke would be sat around a pint with mates laughing at his expense, somehow. (He couldn’t quite imagine how the story could be told without Jamie coming off badly, but still…) But it HAD been fucking fun. Not so much seeing Jamie, he’d never needed to see someone his dad’s age jack off on a screen before, or any guy, for that matter! More, the being seen, he supposed, or something about it. As they had before, his thoughts turned to the end of that call, what Redknapp had weirdly insisted on seeing. Beneath the tight bunching of his bollocks, he felt the stirring. Why had the old perv wanted to see his hole? He’d called it a pussy! Like a bird’s. Fucking weirdo! And yet… A few times since, wanking alone in bed or the bath, Todd’s fingers slid under his balls and found the clammy skin of his gooch. They did that now, but he tried to pull back, just pulling gently on his sack, unsure what Max would think. But then — Max was obviously so inexperienced! And, he thought slowly, just as madly and inappropriately horny right now as he was, so… `Max, buddy?’ `Yeah’ — pant – `what’s’ — pant – `up?’ Pant. `You ever played with your arse a bit, Max?’ `What?!’ `I mean like — just a little finger, or summat…?’ `Nah, never — why?! Have you?’ `Nah, nah — but I’ve heard of it being fun. Girls have wanted to, I mean. When they’re busy.’ `What, really? Up your hole? Fuck…’ `I might try it.’ `Now? Er, here?’ `Yeah, why not? You do it to haha — then it’ll be both of us trying something new here…’ `I dunno, Todd, isn’t it a bit… you know… queer?’ Cantwell ignored this question. He pulled up his left hand and stuck his index finger in his mouth, a little dehydrated, and gave it a good suck. He knew, from the corner of his eye, that Max was watching, and had paused in fumbling with his unfeasibly chunky meat. Todd stole a proper glance at it: it must be at least 8 inches, maybe more, it proper stood away from Max’s lean body and swung awkwardly when he stopped pulling it. It was as big as Jamie’s, he thought, or bigger. Stop thinking of Jamie, he told himself. Then Todd lifted and parted his legs a little bit more, and slid his left hand back down there. He pulled on his dick slowly but firmly, while his spit-slicked fingertip pushed a little between his cheeks. It felt odd down there, softer than he’d imagined. Warmer. He was pretty smooth, but it still felt fluffy. His hole, when he found it, felt like a tight little knot, not even a hole. But Jamie had called it a pussy, so treat it like a pussy… He pulled his finger back and forward over it, then brought mersin escort bayan his hand up and spat messily on that finger. He realised then that Max was waching intently, still not touching his own rod. `You’re mad,’ Aarons told him. `I’m horny, that’s all.’ `How does it feel?’ `I ain’t got it in yet…!’ `Ugh… mate… so weird…’ Todd rubbed it back and forth. Max’s interest, a curious male audience, pushed him on when he might have got queasy and given up on his own. He’d started this, he wasn’t gonna look a fool by abandoning the idea with his teammate so intrigued. He pushed his fingertip a bit more forcibly, feeling a tight burning sensation. He glanced form his quivering dick in his other hand to Max’s wide eyes, saw one hand reach back down towards the Aarons masterpiece. `Go on,’ he grunted, `why don’t you try it too…?’ He could tell his mate was curious. `Just spit in your fingers, like I did. Just give it a little go. Nowt to lose.’ `Have you got it in? Is it going in? How does it feel?’ `Try for yourself! Go on, Max. It’s just us, innit.’ Seeing and hearing Max spit into his fingers was a great thrill for Todd. He supposed it just made him more confident or normalised what he was trying. Anyway, it made his hole relax a tiny bit. He felt the finger go in him and he couldn’t hold in his own yelp of surprise. He could see it panic Max a bit, who’d reached under his fat spreading bollocks between the curly-haired brown thighs. They were both trying it now, then: gently jerking their excited young cocks and teasing a single finger between sturdy footballers’ glutes. `This is so weird, Todd…’ `Yeah but you gotta try these things… right…’ `I guess!’ `You got yours in yet, matey…?’ `I don’t even know.’ `You’ll know.’ `Oh fuck. It’s so… tight.’ `Haha, yeah, yeah it is, like a virgin pussy…!’ `Mmmph!’ Todd had his finger quite deep in now, he thought. It felt massive, which was hilarious. It was like he was being impaled by some huge log, not his own slim bony index finger. He worked it in and out very very carefully. The tickle of it made his cock twitch and ache. He looked over, because Max was staring down his body intently, and wouldn’t mind so much being stared at now; he was pushing far down with his left arm to get to his butt, and Todd could see the twitch of his wrist and knuckles as he tried it. The big dick was jerking rapidly at the pulls of the lad’s other hand. Frothy precum dribbled from the pink head. Oh wow, Max was enjoying this, then… `This is insane,’ he claimed then. Todd murmured agreement. `But… kinda good?’ `Hell, I dunno, bruv…’ `You look like you’re enjoying it, ha…’ `Mmm… shut up, just… mmm…’ Todd wanked himself silly. He felt freely able to look between their bodies now, between their erections, between their twitching stretched left arms, their experimental self-reach. It was mad to think that in this same private hollow he’d first slid inside a proper pussy and lost his own teenage innocence; now he was testing his own `innocence’ with his own finger! And it did, weirdly, feel pretty good, though it hurt and he suspected would hurt worse later. No sooner had this cautious idea crossed his mind than it hit him, literally. `Whoa,’ he couldn’t help but exclaim, feeling the warm moistness strike his cheek, his shoulder, his forearm, his thigh. It took him a confused second to understand. For all his grunting initial eagerness, Max Aarons’ orgasm had come in silence. He was shaking against the sand and gripping his boner in both hands, a little of its white goo still dripping onto his fingers. He’d exploded. Todd could feel it cooling and drying on his skin. He could smell it: rich and salty, distinguishable from the vague ambient smell of the sea. `Shit,’ gasped Max, looking over and realising what he’d done. `It’s okay,’ Todd mumbled, a little in shock. The smell more than anything seemed to assail him. He could feel the splash on his cheek really dribbling down his smoothly shaved jaw. Another glob of it, on his arm, brushed at his thigh air. He was still pulling on his own dick but smoothly; his arsehole had tightened painfully about his finger so he removed it. He was close, but troubled. `I’m sorry mate — I’m so sorry — I didn’t mean to… Fuck!’ The other lad was senseless with guilt and shame that his explosion of cum had spread so far. He was on his side, facing this way, dick lolling enormously, smooth body rising and falling with his breaths. Todd was seized by the idea, illogical and petty. `Fair’s fair then,’ he grunted, and he shifted gently onto his side, pulling his cock quickly. `Ugh, mate… stay still, let me… mmm…’ Max stared at him, understanding and accepting with a kind of bewildered horror. Todd found his eyes resting on the perky dark skin of Max’s nipples, the delicate handsomeness of his face, the heavy swing of his drooping boner; in seconds, he was shooting. It wasn’t so violent or messy an orgasm, but it crossed the little space between them and a few silky splashes of his juices struck just above Max’s naval, where they dribbled down the loose definition of his abs and onto the sand. And then, sated, the lads lay on their sides facing each other but looking elsewhere, catching their breath and coming to terms with the shared shock of it all. Todd stared deliriously into the creamy blue sky, banded with strips of darkening evening. He felt the fuggy tiredness of after-jizz, conscious that they had a fairly long cycle home. He felt pretty good about what had happened: the experiment of it, the laddish daring, the mutual secrecy. It was only when he sat up properly and remembered he was flecked with long drying streaks of the other lad’s seed that he felt a bit woozy with the boldness of what they’d done. He picked up his tshirt, shaking sand off it, and rubbed at his face then his arm with it; Max was watching him, looking incredibly apologetic with his puppy dog eyes and pouting bottom lip. `It’s no big deal,’ Todd assured him. It wasn’t, was it? He hadn’t really minded. Except maybe that salty smell, so strong and overwhelming. He looked at the patch of it still on his wrist, a thick smear of the white stuff. What did it taste like, if it smelt quite so strongly? `Here, let me,’ mumbled Aarons in heated embarrassment. He’d yanked up his briefs and baggy shorts, still shirtless, and was reaching over, rubbing his scrunched up tshirt over Todd’s forearm and hand, wiping away his mess — then using it to dab at his own spunked tummy, grimacing a little. Todd still stared at the dampness of his golden-brown arm hair and shook away the moment of curiosity. It could hardly taste delicious, could it? Girls never wanted to swallow! The lads binned their t-shirts at the car park. Todd thought it was a bit extreme but poor Max Aarons seemed desperate to be rid of the garment, blathering on about how warm it still was and what a relief it would be to cycle home topless along the quiet country roads. Cantwell found he didn’t mind the idea; he quite liked admiringly the stocky little defender’s thick chest and developing shoulders. And he never minded being shirtless himself, pink nipples and sculpted abs out for the world. So they rode off quietly, pedalling with slow deliberation and occasionally glancing at the other in knowing concern. As they whipped off the quieter byroad onto a major highway, Todd found himself shifting uncomfortably in the saddle, fully gripping the handlebar now with no reckless plans to shoot a little social media video diary. He lifted and shifted his tight young buttocks from side to side on the leather — there was definitely a faint burn or discomfort down there, even though he’d barely got his finger inside, it had left a tiny jab of pain for him to think about… but it wasn’t THAT bothering him… He screwed up his face at the itch, the rustle, the tickle of his private skin, then burst out laughing. Max looked warily at him from ahead, picking up speed in his rush to be safely home. `What?’ he demanded. `Nowt,’ Todd said with a grin, `just reminded of that first shag on the beach…’ He wiggled dramatically on his bicycle, lifting his arse off the seat for a moment. `So much sand in my pants, that’s all!’ Max met his eyes, blushed a little, but burst out laughing too. Full of saucy cheer, the two young footballers whizzed on, heading for the lavish villages and suburbs of Norwich where they both lived, overjoyed for a minute at being young and horny and free. *HOPE THAT LIVES UP TO YOUR EXPDECTATIONS, ALL YOU CANTWELL FANS… LOTS OF INTERESTING IDEAS AND REQUESTS COMING THROUGH AT THE MOMENT, CAN’T PLEASE EVERYONE BUT WILL TAKE THEM ON BOARD AND HOPEFULLY CREATE SOME GREAT NEW FANTASIES.*

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