A gay story: Ball Games Ch. 17: Estonia Many years ago, I wrote “Winners and Losers” that I never finished. I subsequently rewrote it in 2016, but never published the 27 chapters to Literotica.
This is the complete 70,000 word story from eight years ago.
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It was Twitter. I’d had been mentioned in dozens of tweets, but my phone beeped when someone I followed included such a message. It was from Betty Maxx: “Luv that my friend, @woodfordmarc, scored 2day. In every sense.” Included was a photograph taken from the cameras and no doubt published on GaySportsTV website.
I hummed and hesitated over the reply. “@BettyMaxx I did. Did you? :-)” Was what I sent back.
Almost immediately, my phone beeped again. Attached were two indecent photographs from her latest porn film. “.@woodfordmarc Fuck yeah! Pls take me up on my offer 2 join me?”
“@BettyMaxx Maybe,” I replied. She was adamant that she wanted me to partake in a pornographic film with her but I wasn’t sure I had the guts or the bottle to do so. Playing with other people in the sexually charged atmosphere of the changing room or the sauna was very different from a bland, soulless photography studio.
Anna and I kissed as I entered our bedroom; her skin danced with arousal as my fingers played gently with her naked flesh. No longer interested in her hospital soap opera, her body screamed arousal and she pressed her writhing body against mine.
I undressed, kissing her body as she purred with lust and begged for relief. My fingers swept over her clit, my lips brushed over her erect nipples and her eyes sparkled with desire. She wanted me. I wanted her.
More than ever, I wanted her. My fingers pressed into her cunt and I wrapped them against her G-Spot, pressing gently as my mouth sucked on her engorged nipples and our naked flesh pressed against each other.
She panted breathlessly, snatching at her breaths as she exhaled. I pressed harder against her insides, feeling her smooth engorgement inside her cunt. My fiancée writhed. Groaning. Squealing. Bucking her hips like a desperately wanton slut.
Her first climax was loud, her second was louder. Each time, her cunt got wetter as her pussy clenched and quivered. She begged for more, my tongue swept over her slit before flicking her cunt; my fingers scissored the orgasmic woman.
Finally, we fucked; my cock slipped inside her sodden cunt with ease as the sounds and smells of our sex filled our bedroom. She whimpered with every thrust of my dick into her oiled hole, exhaling sharply as I rammed into her.
We kissed as our bodies sung in harmony and I came, filling her cunt with my cum. Together we lay in our mess, savouring the moment we enjoyed the aftershocks and feelings of our sex.
“Love you,” I whispered.
“Love you too.”
And then we cleaned up, changed the bedding and cuddled in bed, hugging each other until we fell into a deep slumber.
“I think you should do it,” Anna told me in the morning as I recounted Betty’s offer to me. I checked my phone; the porn star was very far from prudish as to the images she uploaded onto the micro-blogging site, but the most indecent of pictures were sent to me privately.
Over the course of the week, Betty and I tweeted each other often. I sent her a picture of my extravagant lunch so she sent one back of her mouth over a cock.
The following day, she was horse riding as I was working in the office, and then she was cooking as I was training at the football ground.
The lads posed for a naked picture in the showers and I cropped the picture at neckline, sending it to Betty with the question, “can you guess who is who?!” She retweeted it to all 40,000 of her followers.
I expected the National Mail to continue their campaign against us, but despite the pictures taken and public interest in our team, they didn’t feature us or the league. I was happy that we weren’t national news any more, but the homophobic and conservative press were not going to allow our story to continue without further bad coverage.
On Friday, I received an email from “Lucy” about an offer I had made for her friend to join us at training. It took a few minutes for me to remember the chat I had with a naked dancer a few weeks previous. She had left a phone number and I rang the stripper back.
She explained that her gay friend — a male stripper in Manchester — was 21 the following week and she had no idea what to get him; could I help? I texted the coach and arranged for one of our biggest fans to join us at the next training session.
It helped that we had no game the following Saturday. Due to the odd number of teams in the league, we had two weekends in the season where we had no games scheduled and the weekend following our last-minute dramatic victory against Leyton Kennels was the second of these. My fiancée was due to attend a couple of wedding fayres. I was destined to spend the weekend debating the difference with rose and blush for the bridesmaids’ dresses. It made no difference to me and my opinion would be ignored by the bride but without an excuse I had no reason not to attend.
Fortunately, a Twitter conversation with ManLube opened a door for me to escape Wedding Fayre Hell; would I like to visit Julia and Daniel in Estonia?
It wasn’t phrased in those words, but I accepted their unsaid invitation to avoid packed halls of brides and wedding planners, and fly to Tallinn. In the Estonian Ultimate Humiliation League, each team could have a single non-registered player play for them each week as a “guest” and as ManLube were hoping to expand further into the Baltic regions, they wanted me to go over and play for Tallinn New Boys.
The spotlight would serve the Estonian team well, and the exposure of the ManLube logo would be free publicity.
How could I refuse? Anna sulked briefly when I told her. I feigned forgetfulness when she mentioned the wedding fayre and I muttered apologetically but a few gentle kisses on her lips and a lot more kisses on her cunt, and she had forgiven me.
“Don’t get too attached to the Estonian girls,” she warned me as I packed and her hands encircled my body.
“What about the Estonian boys?”
Her lips broke into a smile; her hands danced over my crotch as she whispered in my ear. “As long as I get stories and photographs, of course!”
I left work at lunchtime and drove the 100 miles to the airport; ManLube had provided my airline tickets, that I collected from the brightly-coloured check-in desk and I flew on the packed flight to Estonia’s capital city.
It was dark when I arrived. A representative of the company was waiting for me at the airport and the Estonian national greeted me warmly as he recognised me walking through the throng of travellers.
Petr was chatty; he longed to correct any misconceptions I had over his country while discussing their new league and even the weather. He drove me to my hotel in speeds that terrified me, and the modern hotel, housed in a Gothic building, was far more luxurious than what ManLube had provided at the sex show.
I didn’t know whether Julia and Daniel knew that I was coming, and at 10:30am, I got my response when a naked brunette threw her arms around me when I walked into their changing room.
“I’m your guest player,” I needlessly added.
“I beat you in midfield,” she cried as she turned to her coach. “He … fuck good, tackle shit!”
“Oi,” I moaned and she giggled as she untangled herself from me.
ManLube’s representative had given me a number of items and they filmed me exchanging “gifts” with the captain of Tallinn New Boys. The box of presents included a Woodford Wanderers shirt, our crest and several boxes of ManLube products. In return, I was given a Tallinn New Boys kit, which I had to change into.
I didn’t realise that I would be taking part in the first game of the Ultimate Humiliation League, and rickety facilities we were in was just their training ground. Adjacent to the training ground was a 3,000 seater indoor stadium and a European-based pornography website had bought the rights to show live matches.
The last training session before their big match was a gentle kick around the freezing pitch; Julia passed with precision and the talented girl was blessed with a beautiful eye for a pass.
It must have been several degrees below freezing but I seemed to be the only person struggling in the cold weather. The team were a lot stronger than when they were in Italy; in the intervening weeks they had strengthened and become fitter. A couple of new faces were skilled strikers of the ball and I wasn’t sure if Woodford Wanderers played them now whether we would win.
A short lunch of bread and fruit followed and we drank liquid. A number of the players struggled to converse, given the lack of a shared tongue, although Julia offered to translate; I noticed a malevolent gleam in her eye and knew her English to Estonian translation wasn’t completely accurate. Julia’s team-mates laughed at something I said, and she later confessed she had told them that I had “the smallest cock in the league.”
The coach read out the teamsheet and talked tactics with Julia translating for me; I would play in midfield alongside Julia, protecting the defenders. We were warned about Tartu County’s skilful “number eight” and the pace of their wingers.
The indoor stadium had artificial grass and was used by a number of different teams; Tallinn New Boys were just another tenant of the recently built community facility that had the largest changing room I’d ever used.
Butterflies swam inside; I don’t think I’d ever felt like this before a match and the Estonian national anthem bellowed as we took to the pitch; several degrees warmer than outside.
The stadium was packed; dozens of flags waved from the stands and a roar echoed in the enclosed space. I looked in awe around me, seeing a woman with a microphone and camera walk towards me.
I was interviewed in broken English, as was Tartu County’s guest: the American goalkeeper from New York Champions. Our opponents, resplendent in their bright red shirts and white shorts, kicked off and immediately their talented player danced past two tackles to nutmeg Julia. I cleared the ball into touch with my outstretched leg as he threatened to run past us.
Every time Tartu got the ball they sought their creative midfielder who loved to show his skills. The twinkle-toed figure had a new trick every time he got the ball, and the diminutive player oozed confidence.
But Julia and I worked well. Each time, one of us would go to challenge while the other one covered the space, and although Tartu had seen more of the ball by half-time, neither team had had many chances.
All in all, it was becoming a dull game, that sparked into life after the break. They scored when their wingers got behind our defence, and then we equalised from the penalty spot. As the game headed towards a 1-1 draw, a Tallinn corner was played into the box and it bounced off the defender, spinning towards me.
For a moment, time stood still. It was an identical chance that I had buried against Leyton Kennels. I felt the wind rush for a moment as I positioned my body to strike it cleanly.
And I missed.
I missed the ball entirely, kicking the air as the football bounced underneath my volleying foot.
I could perhaps claim the artificial surface had adjusted the bounce compared to the grass I was used to. But I hadn’t missed a kick all game and when I did, it was at the most important moment.
Half-a-second later, the ball struck the back of the net; Daniel was behind me and leathered the football past the despairing dive of their American goalkeeper.
Relief more than anything flooded through me as the young player was mobbed by his team-mates celebrating the goal with wild abandon.
Although she teased me at the end of the match, Julia later admitted that I had played well. I knew I had, but it had been a tough game and her boyfriend had saved my blushes.
The real reason for the live television coverage was what came afterwards and the pan-European broadcaster had set up half-a-dozen cameras in the “Victory Lounge” following our win. This was broadcast on the big screen in the stadium.
I was covered in sweat and took gulps of water as we filed into the large room, dotted with benches and stools. A half-naked woman spoke in Estonian and then presented in English to the camera.
“Our victors, Tallinn New Boys, will be orally pleasured by Tartu County.”
“Is that it?” I whispered to Julia, idly watching the naked losers file into the hall from the another door.
“Yeah. They want to change it each week,” she replied. “They think always having the losers fucked might be boring.” I couldn’t deny their logic.
But I had their forward on his knees in front of my cock as the female winger buried her face in Julia’s hairless crotch. My victim lacked technique: sloppily salivating over the head of my prick as he made the barest of contact with it. His eyes focussed on my bare crotch as he tentatively licked my frenulum.
I grabbed the back of his head and brought it towards me. I guided him onto my prick and he gagged, spluttering as his lips closed over my manhood and I began to face fuck the losing attacker.
His eyes bulged as I smiled; I bucked my hips as he bobbed on my cock. He sparked to life as I leaked pre-cum, filling his mouth with my musky taste and erect prick, sizzling with lust. I smiled at a cameraman, pointing his camera at me.
My football shirt fluttered with the actions of my movement, my shorts bunched around my ankles as I was fellated by the naked man. I could see his tiny erection, buried in his pubic fuzz.
I ran my hands through his short, brown hair, staring into his youthful face as my orgasm welled inside of me. I was … the man. I was victorious and I felt indefatigable. I closed my eyes and grunted as cum came from my cock and he pulled away, causing the several spasms of my seed to land on his face.
The camera caught everything. It caught the sight of the Tartu County forward with streaks of semen on him. No doubt it saw him wiping the goo with his hand, and another splash landing into his short hair.
And it caught him skulking back to his changing room, sheepishly running as the last of his team-mates finished their tasks.
I dined with Julia and Daniel in my hotel; I had a large number of Euros “on account” and after deducting the pre-paid amount from the bill, we had just a few Euros to pay each.
Julia never stopped teasing me about my air-kick, and even though she knew I had scored an identical goal a week previous, it made little difference. She loved to tease and provoke and I found her so very provocative.
She flirted with me; they both did. They reminded me of adventures past in Italy and indecent games played. But this time she had no strap-on; we had gone straight from the ground to the hotel.
Her eyes twinkled as we settled the bill and took the lift to my room on the tenth floor, offering splendid views over the Baltic city. It was a beautiful sight as, framed against the night-time vista of twinkling lights was Julia, unzipping her top to show her naked breasts. “We have some unfinished business.” Her tongue rubbed her top lip as she flung her training top on the chair and ran her hands over her bisexual partner.
“Please,” she asked. “You owe Daniel, big thank you. He saved your arse.”
My mouth salivated as her toned boyfriend had his tracksuit bottoms lowered and his smooth legs were topped by his prominent cock. “I do.”
“Then suck it!” She ordered. “Show my boyfriend how grateful you are!” My eyes met hers for a moment and I dropped to my knees in front of his smooth cock. I ran my hands over his hairless legs and kissed the tip of his dick.
She giggled behind me, pushing the back of my head onto the firm prick. She didn’t need to, I wanted it. I wanted to bury my face into his crotch and suck the delightful man to a breathtaking orgasm.
I wanted to taste his cum, and if Julia had had her strap-on then my backdoor would have been open for her too. I didn’t need encouragement or direction. My hands floated over his smooth, gorgeous legs and squeezed his buttocks as my tongue swirled over his cock head.
Gloriously musky and fantastically masculine, I was swimming in my submission. Julia stood behind me, dominantly surveying the homosexual antics of her friend, and her partner.
Daniel grunted as I bobbed; sucking his cock of his delicious sudor and squeezing his buttocks. I felt his cock quiver and pulse as he neared his orgasm. He panted. He was so close.
And then Julia pulled me away. “You don’t get his cum. I do.” I turned to see the midfielder, naked and pulling me towards the bed, still clothed. I kicked off my trousers and threw my shirt onto the floor as she pressed me onto the mattress, before climbing onto the bed and positioning her cunt over my lips.
She tasted of sex. I remembered her sweet aroma of deliciousness from Italy and I swept my tongue over her clit, drawing a sensual explosion of lust in her cunt.
Daniel came behind her, I felt his balls rest on my face as his cock slid into her; I licked his cock as it went in, licked her clit as he withdrew. I adored the 69 position; my hands groped her bare tits and his balls slid over my face.
It was a deeper feeling of submission; a more intimate fall as her bare skin pressed against mine and the room felt hot. I could sense every feeling of lust, every twitch on her flesh and every explosion of enjoyment that filled her body. I could enjoy every thrust into her cunt as Daniel rammed his thick cock into his girlfriend and I could see everything.
He grunted and pressed his cock deep into her, swearing in his native tongue as his cock pulsed. Instinctively I sucked on his balls as his cock pumped waves of cum into Julia and he cried out as I sucked the sweat from his textured orbs.
And then the cum began to leak out, onto my tongue. Julia orgasmed as I sucked the thick, viscous liquid from her cunt and squealed as my tongue flicked her clit and licked from her leaking pussy.
And every mouthful was more delicious than the last; a mixture of her sweetness and Daniel’s masculinity fizzled submission in my mouth and sent my cock stiff.
After her fourth orgasm, she rolled off of me, and I looked at her in the eyes. She passed me a condom from her bag and winked. “I think you’ve earned it,” she muttered and after I rolled the thin latex over my pre-cum covered dick, she parted her legs.
Daniel’s bare cock slid into her mouth as my condom-coated prick pressed against her pussy. She groaned into her boyfriend’s dick as I pushed into her sodden hole.
An intense feeling of satisfaction swirled around me, a tight warmth of lust. I pulled her hips back onto my prick forcefully as she blew Daniel with wild grunts.
There were lots of noises from the wild fucking filling my expensive hotel room: wild, rutting grunts interspersed with the slapping of flesh as Julia was spitroasted. Her cunt tightened around my cock, squeezing it tightly as we fucked.
I was so near. So desperate to come. So close. I whimpered and cried out, burying my cock deep into her cunt and filling the condom teat with a few pulses of cum.
Daniel filled his girlfriend’s mouth with his spunk a few moments later, and she kissed him passionately, snowballing his seed between them.
I had a quick shower and was joined by Daniel. I help him to soap his fit body before Julia replaced me and we had a few drinks in the hotel bar.
Julia and Daniel “followed” me on Twitter and they made me promise to come down to the training ground. “We have a little tradition whenever anyone leaves.” My eyes rolled.
“You’re a new club, how can you have a tradition?”
“We will have a tradition. You will be the first. Sunday training: ten ’til one.”
And with a promise made, my bisexual friends kissed me goodbye and disappeared into the night.
I wasn’t sure if I could find the training ground again, but the ManLube escort arrived at the hotel at 9am as I was checking out and wasn’t surprised when I asked to go to the training ground.
ManLube took some more photographs of me playing in the black, white and blue of Tallinn New Boys alongside a big ManLube sign.
The other players were fit and ran the drills with ease. I was ashamed that I was panting for breath far more than my younger, and fitter, Estonian friends.
They joked with me, they completed their training with smiles and laughter and they enjoyed having not only the company but the attention ManLube brought.
But Julia’s words of a “tradition” bore fruit as, after we returned to the changing rooms, she let me remove my shin pads and boots before guiding me into the wet area and pressed me backwards into a bath. I tumbled as the backs of my legs hit the rim and she guided me into it, before holding me down.
The first Estonian was at the foot of the bath in seconds, pressing his cock in the air and pissing. I watched as the liquid arced in the air landing on my lap.
This was the cue for all of the players as Julie held my hands out, player after player began to piss. The air smelt thick with a deep salty musk of urea as they all pissed on me, soaking my kit with their warmth.
Then Daniel sprayed my face. I closed my eyes and looked away but was hit by another stream and then another. I smelt the deep acidity of the pee, screwing up my face as my cock rose. It was deeply disgusting.
Laughter filled the room; this was a game. This was a degrading forfeit that they were enjoying. I opened my eyes to see Maria’s cunt, stretched over the bath as she squeezed a powerful jet of piss onto my chest.
Some aimed for my mouth, others aimed for my crotch. But not a single part of my clothing from the socks on my feet, to the shirt on my chest was dry. 26 men and women released their fullsome bladders on my body. So deeply degrading; so erotic.
Finally, it was Julia’s turn. She no longer had to hold my hands as I was going nowhere. She put her legs either side of the free-standing bath tub and leant forward. I leaned forward to swipe my tongue over her clit and she purred, allowing me a few seconds of pleasure.
And then she started. I never moved my face, but just closed my eyes as her jet of piss bounced against my top lip, spraying everywhere. It smelt vile, incredibly warm and so deliciously dirty.
I almost came at that point; to have two dozen people watching as I gave cunnilingus on the pissing woman was deeply humiliating and wonderfully submissive. A delicious torment of wanton filth.
It was shameful as my tongue poked her clit, taking in big mouthfuls of her pee. Yet my cock got harder still; my body soaked to the skin with Estonian piss. I swallowed her liquid, still enjoying her clit with my tongue until her stream sapped and dribbled.
I wanted her. I wanted to make her come and feel the quivering cunt on my lips. But she wouldn’t give me that pleasure and slipped forward away from my reach.
“How do you say in England?” She asked as I slouched back in the back with a wide smile. “Piss off, yes?”