Subject: Premiership Lads part 31: Friends Reunited Party thirty-one: Friends Reunited Ben Chilwell sat quietly in the hotel car park, glancing awkwardly at his watch from beneath the brim of his low-pulled beanie. He shouldn’t really be up right now, never mind sat out here catching a chill: curfew was on. The Leicester lads were holed up in an out-of-town hotel on the fringe of Burnley, ready for their game tomorrow… but Ben was hanging about in the car park on the lookout for a visitor he wasn’t even sure would show. But sure enough, there was the flash of headlights at the far end, and a heavy-looking jeep made its way about the periphery until he could recognise it more confidently. It rolled into a space not far from him, and he stood up from the low wall where he was sitting in his jogging bottoms and hoody, and headed over to greet him. Ben felt a surge of gratitude for the visit. The driver’s door swung open and out stepped the majestic 6’4 figure of Harry Maguire, giving him that slightly awkward smile that always meant the big lad was much more emotional than he looked at seeing you. `Harry,’ Ben breathed gladly. `It’s been too long.’ `Way too long,’ Maguire agreed firmly, and he threw one strong arm about the shorter guy’s shoulders in a hug. For a moment, Ben just felt glad of the warm embrace against his mate’s chest, then became self-conscious or uncertain and pulled back with a little laugh. `I can’t believe you actually came to see me,’ he said honestly. `Isn’t it still quite a drive for you?’ `Well I was in Manchester this evening anyway,’ Harry said a bit dismissively, `so not too big a diversion to pop out to Burnley… Can’t miss out on you while you’re in my neck of the woods, can I?’ Again, that crooked, affectionate smile. Ben grinned back at him, a bit lost in their meeting eyes for a moment, then remembering the most pressing news. `Captain Harry,’ he remarked. `Well fucking done, big lad.’ He patted him on the arm as they backed away from the car, which locked with a beep. `Things must be fucking great for you at United at the minute…’ Harry smiled a bit less firmly, and Ben was sure he caught a hint of worry or uncertainty up there on Maguire’s face, which confused him a little. This should be all the guy ever wanted. The pair drifted across the silent space of the car park for a moment’s silence, a bit thrown off by Harry’s ambiguous reaction. Harry broke the silence. `Who are you rooming with?’ he asked in a light, casual voice, which Ben wondered if meant he was asking a little more than that, of course. `Er, Jamie,’ he admitted quietly. `Right.’ `Yeah.’ The two blokes looked at each other with questioning eyes as they approached the unmanned hotel foyer, slowing outside its automatic doors. Ben felt himself blush a little bit, probably visible in the harsh neon light. There hadn’t been much more explicit or honest contact between them of late, though both guys knew firmly that the other had been exploring beyond their own garage antics all that time ago. `I suppose it can’t surprise anyone that Jamie Vardy is a dirty bugger,’ Harry commented softly, breaking the hint of tension between them. `Hardly,’ Ben said, chuckling at this. He led the way in through the automatic doors and across the glassy interior of the foyer, into the deserted bar area to the side. A solitary, zombie like barman was waiting for them at the far end. `Half a pint or something, since you’re driving?’ At Maguire’s nod, he went over to get a round in, troubled by Harry’s mood and reluctance to talk about his big new role at United. But also troubled by his own predicament tonight, and wondering how much he could confide in Harry. Surely Harry would get it? `He isn’t joining us, then?’ Harry asked, when Ben found him at the corner table with two halfs of lager. Was that just a hint of jealousy in Maguire’s voice? Ben laughed inwardly: he had definitely felt a certain possessiveness in that hug, and in all of their ambiguous contact since getting more intimate on a quiet Sunday afternoon. `Nah, that’s why I’m so glad you actually made it,’ Ben admitted with a little laugh, getting comfy in the seat and tasting a little of his beer. `He’s up there having his way with a hotel receptionist right now, would you fuckin’ believe it.’ `Oh god…’ `He’s an animal,’ Ben sniggered. `Working on her since we checked in, what… three hours ago.’ Harry scoffed but shrugged. `Fair play,’ he said. `You didn’t fancy staying to watch…?’ Ben screwed up his face and both men laughed a little awkwardly, then sipped more from their half-pint glasses. `You must be fucking chuffed to be Captain,’ Chilwell said to push the topic away from the shagging going on in his room right now. `Of your boyhood team, what a legend…’ `Yeah it’s cool,’ Harry said in a flat tone. Ben instantly parodied him. `Yeah it’s cool,’ he echoed teasingly. `What the fuck, Mags?’ `Oh mate… It’s just… complicated there, at the moment.’ Harry looked glumly into his drink, and Ben reached over to give his shoulder a slight stroke of sympathy. `You wanna talk about it?’ `Not really,’ Harry admitted. `Sorry… don’t mean to be a dick, it’s just…’ `No, that’s fine,’ Chilwell told him softly. `Sorry you’re having a shit time.’ Harry gave him an intense look. `I don’t deserve anyone’s sympathy. I brought it all on myself. I’ve been… acting like such a…’ He broke off, and seemed to shake off the topic. `Forget I said anything. It’s great to be made captain, it really is. I’m excited to lead.’ Ben nodded, still unconvinced, but reluctant to push it. Who knew what complex issues were going on in his mate’s life? Based on that low-quality video, he’d got really mixed up with a few of his teammates, and that must be messy… Not like his own more straightforward `arrangement’ with Vardy upstairs, he supposed, a little nervously. A handjob here, a blowjob there, and in return… Ben’s cheeks clenched in his pants at the thought of those long rimming sessions, so wrong but so right. He realised Harry was talking on, and he hadn’t been particularly listening. He zoned in. `Shame I couldn’t get here earlier, say hi to more of the lads,’ Maguire was saying. Ben nodded his agreement. `Yeah, definitely…’ `I do miss you all,’ Maguire said earnestly. `And we miss you,’ Ben said, and gave him a meaningful look. `Nobody more than me, I’m sure.’ With the boldness of the late-night silence around them, he slid his hand across beneath the cover of the table, and gently touched the bulge in Harry’s worn jeans. `It’s great to see you again, big man.’ Harry gave him a vague, ambivalent smile, and chuckled for a moment. `Yeah, well, that feeling is really mutual, mate,’ he said in a series of grunts, parting his legs a bit and reaching under the table. He pressed Ben’s hand against the outline of his parts then squeezed it, interlocking their fingers powerfully. `You’re… enjoying yourself with Vardy though… aye?’ Ben nodded, a little slowly as if this was some odd betrayal of their own behaviour � though that was daft, he knew he wasn’t the only lad Harry had experimented with! `Yeh,’ he agreed in a whisper. `We… have fun. I mean… he doesn’t like to touch me so much, but…’ `Selfish prick,’ Harry said jokily. Ben looked at him and remembered vividly how it had felt being brought to climax by the big strong hand currently locked about his own, pressing it to the man’s crotch. Harry’s power was intoxicating, in a different way to Jamie’s. `He wants to go further,’ Ben decided to confess, in the same confessional whisper. `He’s a bit…’ He sighed, wishing he hadn’t started. `He’s a bit obsessed with my… bum, you know.’ Harry burst out laughing at this, and Ben blushed deeply in the soft lighting of the bar. `Shut up, mersin escort mate…’ `Sorry, sorry,’ Harry said, and as if in gesture of peace, forced Ben’s fingers more firmly about the outline of his own semi in his jeans. `I was just thinking… who wouldn’t be?’ He gave a sleazy wink, and now Ben was laughing too. `They call you Bulging Ben but… maybe it could just so easily be… Buttock Ben.’ They both laughed at the shite joke and Chilly bit his lip a little, feeling his own rising excitement, and slowly retrieving his hand from the warmth of the other man’s crotch. `He wants to fuck me,’ he admitted in a brittle voice. Harry nodded slowly, immediately more understanding and patient with this revelation than Chilwell might have feared. `And… are you up for that?’ Ben found himself less sure of the adamant `No’ that he’d been saying to Jamie for the past couple of weeks. `I don’t know,’ he said very quietly. `Should I be?’ There was a noise suddenly, the harsh clack-clack of heels on a tiled floor. Both men turned shiftily, Ben definitely terrified of being overheard, but also curious. It was the brunette receptionist from earlier, that Vardy had been seducing and getting up to their room on spurious favours and requests to work his `magic’ � she was hurrying out, hair in a mess, chatting into her phone, adjusting her skirt. Either Vardy was finished quickly, or it had not gone quite to plan. Ben looked to Harry and they both gave a low chuckle. `Hey,’ Harry said after a moment, `your roomie is done then… Shall we pop up and say hi?’ `Er, yeah, can do,’ Ben said uncertainly. `We were just saying it’s a shame for me not to catch up with anyone else,’ Harry said, though there was an odd look in his face, a hint of ulterior motive. He looked more himself, really, the clouded worry of his life at United a bit backgrounded. Ben smiled hesitantly at him. Why did the thought of Harry and Jamie meeting now feel so odd to him, when they were all such close mates from their seasons together down at Leicester…? On the way up to the hotel room, neither of the football players said a thing. Perhaps this was a nod to the general silence of the hotel, the Leicester City curfew. But to Ben, it felt different. There was a crackling tension between them, of course there was. They had wanked each other off and then barely spoken since. It didn’t matter what else the lads had got up to separately, there was a real atmosphere of unfinished business in their friendship now. And then there was the other bloke, up in his hotel room. Ben swiped his keycard and yanked down the handle, and let them into room 203. They were greeted immediately by sight of Jamie Vardy, framed in the rectangle of the doorway. The wiry 5’10 striker was stood completely naked, directly in front of them, in the middle of chugging from a bottle of beer at the mini-bar. His lithe, toned frame was bare and a little glossy with the sweat of horizontal activity, and he was a little flushed in the face. But most noticeably, he was still raging hard, an unspent erection pointing up from his trimmed pubes at a sharp angle. `Oh hullo,’ the Leicester legend said jovially, `if I’d known we had company, I might have dressed.’ Chilwell ushered Harry self-consciously inside and shut the door firmly but quietly behind him. `Fuck’s sake Vardy,’ he muttered embarrassedly. Jamie snorted derision then held the ice-cool beer bottle to his burning cheek, unabashed at his own excited nudity as the other two filed into the bedchamber. `Well that was short-lived,’ he announced, with a nod to the tangle sheets of the nearest double bed. `She wasn’t into anal at all, freaked out and I had to call her a cab.’ `Classy,’ Harry announced. `And your wife having just given birth…’ `Pot, kettle, black,’ Jamie said with an amiable sneer. Maguire stepped up and seemed to ignore the nudity and boner: the old teammates grabbed each other in a brief, tight hug that made Ben feel even more strange about this intimate reunion. He knelt at the fridge and pulled out two more of the beers, opening them for he and Maguire. It crossed his mind that the gaffer would find out about this illegal pre-game drinking but he would blame Vardy. Vardy got away with anything. `You look like you had some fun with her anyway,’ Harry said, nodding down at Vardy’s hard prick, then at the mess of the bed. `Good lad.’ `Aye, til she went frigid,’ Jamie snarled. The two men’s south Yorkshire accents sounded stronger and harsher together. Vardy turned his beady eyes to Ben. `Some people just don’t know how good certain things might feel for them.’ Ben had no doubts that he was now being compared to the receptionist, and his arse clenched nervously at Vardy’s repeated desire for it. He handed one beer to Harry then glugged on his own anxiously. What happened next took him totally by surprise. He saw it in slow motion. Harry took a slow single sip from his beer, then with his other arm, shoved forward, caught Jamie in the shoulder, and sent him tumbling back into the wall with a clatter, then stepped forward and squared up to him, a good 5 inches taller. `If our Benny here ain’t ready for something, he ain’t ready,’ Harry said in a growl. `No matter how much pushing you do, Vardy, okay?’ Ben stared on and held his breath, before hurrying forward to try and break out the potential fight. But Jamie, recovering from the shove, was bursting out in low laughter, and smirking up at taller Harry. `Lads,’ Chilwell said urgently, `you’ll wake up the others, so just…’ `Are you warning me off Ben because he’s not enjoying his time with me,’ Jamie asked in a slow drawl, `or are you just jealous that I’m getting further with the cheeky bugger than you managed…?’ The two dominant men eyed each other ferociously in silence as Ben shoved himself roughly between them, facing Maguire, and pressed him away from his roommate with as much urgency as he could muster, forcing a grin and laugh at this display of testosterone. He felt Jamie close behind him, draping a naked arm about the shoulders of his hoody, then reaching about the front to pull it up a little and expose his boxers waistband, nuzzling his stubbled neck playfully � and his rock hard stiffy brushing Ben’s behind through the thick material of his joggers. In front of him towered a serious-faced Maguire, tensing his strong shoulders in his polo shirt and thick jacket, but… definitely swelling a bit in the front of his jeans. Ben felt scared but much more turned on, by the conflict, the tension, the power dynamic. `Oi Chilly,’ Jamie said into his ear, but loud enough for Harry to hear too. `Why don’t you show Big Harry here how well you suck dick now, eh?’ Tensing against Vardy’s insistent touch, Ben watched Harry’s slow reaction to this idea. That idea had hung awkwardly between them last time and ever since. He thought about the size of the United captain’s tool, and felt the same doubling of fear and excitement. `Okay,’ Harry said. `Go for it.’ He shrugged his jacket off in one move, dropping it to the carpeted floor, and yanked his pale blue polo shirt up and off with the same smoothness, baring the pale but chiselled form of his torso. It looked to Ben like his ex-teammate had really been working on his muscle definition since his transfer to Old Trafford. He stepped forward, and reached for the belt buckle, and began lowering himself to his knees. He felt Jamie stepping up behind him as he struggled his way into the Levis. He paused, as Jamie tugged on his hoody, and let the other man pull it up over his arms to strip him to the waist, glad of the release in the sudden heat of the room. Shirtless and trembling, Chilwell leant in and tugged Harry’s meat out hungrily. He leaned in and pulled his tongue across the loose escort mersin skin of the semi, then kissed its head, then nuzzled the big hairy balls. Jamie wasn’t being entirely accurate: Ben still considered himself terribly amateurish at sucking cock, but he was making progress. He had struggled that first tipsy night with Vardy, but tasting Grealish had been confidence-boosting. Since then, he’d noshed off Jamie three or four times, and more or less been successful. But this big monster… Harry was backing off, but not to escape, just for comfort. He slid back onto Jamie’s slightly used bedding, pushing his jeans to part his lanky legs as he sank onto the hotel bed. Ben followed willingly, placing a hand on each strong thigh and dipping his mouth between them to start taking some of Maguire’s meat into it. Mmm. It tasted great at the end of a long day. Behind him, he felt Jamie grabbing at the waist of his joggers and boxers, and knew what was coming. That dirty fucker could not get enough of his arse, he really couldn’t. He leant forward more, putting more of his weight onto reclining Harry, and licking appreciatively at his stretching, growing beast, whilst jutting his behind out and feeling his cheeks exposed to the cooler air, then brushed with hot beery breath from Vardy. He felt the precursory kisses against his firm, soft haired buttocks, then the parting of the cheeks, then the tentative finger on his crack, and then that skilled reptilian tongue… Ben groaned into a mouthful of Maguire, and wondered for a second why he had even dreaded this reunion so much. Here he was caught between two exciting men he had love and respect for, enjoying both of their, ahem, talents at once, and… The cheeky, free-spirited character that had pulled him into experimenting with lads resurfaced, cowed recently by feeling like he was fast becoming Vardy’s bitch. He ran his tongue up the full length of Harry’s now fully erect penis, and looked up that toned trunk to meet his eyes. But Harry was looking over him in clear alarm. Oh fuck, it hadn’t occurred to him that this would be very new to his dirty mate. He pictured Harry’s view, of his toned smooth back, and Vardy’s head ploughed between his arse cheeks. He tried to reassure his big pal with a really strong suck on that sensitive big meat, then taking as much of it in his mouth as possible, until he felt himself gag. `Does that feel… good?’ came Maguire’s stern, pressing voice. Ben pulled off the cock and caught his breath, and stifled his full moan of pleasure as he felt Jamie’s tongue on his hole. `It… yeh… it really does…’ Harry looked cynical, but then Jamie pulled more firmly on Ben’s parted cheeks and dug in more with tongue, so Ben almost screamed his next comment. `It’s so different,’ he cried. Harry made a vague grunt, took his long brown hair in his fingers, and guided his mouth back onto its goal. Ben sucked hungrily, enjoying the girth and seemingly endless veiny length against his tongue and lips now. In the front of his rumpled joggers, he could feel his own swollen erection practically leaking pre-cum at the noises on either side of him… Harry’s low, whining moans, and the slurps and gasps of Jamie working his behind. And then Harry was pulling his hair again, dragging his head off his dick, so that he feared he’d done something wrong or been clumsy with his teeth. `Vardy,’ Harry commanded sternly, `you’re gonna… you’re gonna… I wanna try that.’ Ben shuffled aside a bit on his knees, still drooling, and he looked from Maguire’s intense, authoritative face to where Jamie still crouched behind him, licking his lips and staring over at the ex-Leicester lad. He felt for a moment like tensions would erupt all over again. Surely Jamie wouldn’t take Harry’s control so easily? These were two blokes who had to dominate the room, from what Ben could tell, and yet… He looked at the dark furry entrance beneath Harry’s balls, and saw how enticing that untouched arse would be to his own teammate. Harry was pulling himself more fully onto the bed with a kick of his long hairy legs, and Jamie brushed by Ben without another moment’s hesitation. Chilly rose to his feet, his arse damp and bared, his lips wet with his own drool, and watched Jamie climb between those mighty limbs. He saw the anxiety or uncertainty on Harry’s face, so he decided to help. As he watched Jamie lift the big hairy thighs onto his bare shoulders and duck his head down beneath them, Ben lunged in to resume the blowjob, letting Maguire gasp and groan beneath the efforts of two horny mouths. He licked and kissed at Harry’s mammoth member, and then looked one way to another: down at Jamie’s sweaty brow and intensely closed eyes as he worked his magic beneath that loaded ballsack, in the hairy canyon of Harry’s ass. Then left, up Harry’s toned torso, to the mask of pure pleasure that had replaced any doubts on Maguire’s face. Wow. He hunched over to take more of the prized prick into his gob, and then felt one of Harry’s big hands swung round to grasp his arse. Before he knew it, Harry’s rough callused fingers were probing the wet hair of his crack and finding his twitching little hole. Oh… Harry slid his middle digit forcefully inside him. It was bigger than Vardy’s curious fingers and so felt so much more invasive, but also much more welcome and exciting. It crossed his mind how insane it would feel to be topped by this beast of a man, and yet… how could he EVER fit this THING inside his arse…? Harry pressed deeper into him and he had to stop sucking, just groaning out the strange sensation. Oh wow… Then Jamie pulled away, lifting his head between Harry’s legs, seeing the development. `Oh aye,’ he remarked with playful envy. `If frigid Chilly here ain’t gonna let me bum him, he’s hardly gonna take YOUR monster, Mags…’ Harry sneered, laughed, and then with a deft kick, shoved Jamie in the chest again with one strong foot, sending him tumbling clumsily off the foot of the bed with a hoot of irate laughter. All three men laughed, and Harry pulled Ben more fully onto the bed by one arse cheek, and spanked him once, gently. `Nah, you’re right,’ Maguire said, as Vardy scrambled back on to join them, giggling yet frowning at the same time. `But you’re gonna stop being a selfish cunt. Look, Ben needs sucking.’ Harry pulled down fully on Chilwell’s jogging bottoms so his hard-on sprung out free. It really was a big cock, and Ben knew its size was exaggerated by his own frame, allowing it to look almost more impressive than Harry’s own, from their experimental comparing that day. He looked from Harry’s smug smirk to Jamie’s quivering unreadable expression. `What?’ Vardy asked, with a few lazy tugs on his own cock. `Nah, I don’t-` `If you ever want his arse,’ Harry snapped, `you’ll get on your knees now.’ He spanked Ben once more, with a gentle slapping noise, and with his other hand slowly pulled on his cock. `Or do you wanna try it out on mine, eh?’ Vardy looked fiercely at Ben, who wilted a bit at that stare, knowing how submissive he’d become to his rough experienced senior teammate. `If I nosh you,’ Vardy spat irritably, `will you finally let me…?’ `Yes,’ Ben said, more quickly and certainly than he realised he was feeling. Perhaps it was the fingering he’d just had, or just Harry’s company: he felt a new confidence in these dirty games. Besides, he just really wanted a blowie. He’d yet to receive one from any of the three blokes he’d messed about with, after all. He tottered forward on his knees and rested a hand on Harry’s flat, broad abdomen to steady himself, as Jamie crawled forward looking completely reluctant and disgusted by what he had to do now. Somehow this fact just turned Ben on more, realising how resentful he’d become of mersin escort bayan their `arrangement’: it was about time Vardy hunkered down and returned the favour. (Although his skill on the other side was undeniable…) Ben tensed his own highly defined abs, knowing he probably had the most ripped body of the three, and looked downwards as Vardy’s tongue flickered at his thick, straining nob. Behind, he felt Harry grab and fondle his hairy behind even more, that long finger returning to his hole. As Vardy clumsily attended to his cock, there was no denying which gave him more pleasure: the masterful finger in his jacksie was way more exciting than the awkward, reluctant mouth on his nob. Shit, was he really so ready to be… fucked? Electrified by this realisation, he pulled his heavy cock away from Jamie’s wincing face, and gasped for breath. `You can do it now,’ he said in an eager yelp. `I’m ready to… try…’ Harry pushed deeper into him like he was his puppet, and pulled back a little on his round muscular bottom. `You sure, Chilly?’ he grunted in what Ben could only take as a supportive gesture. He looked over his shoulder and nodded firmly, really feeling excited by Maguire’s presence and help. He pulled away and turned about, falling onto hands and knees astride Harry’s body, while Jamie positioned behind him with a creak of the bed. Ben was scared, but looking at big strong Harry was helpful. He realised how scared he’d been of Jamie’s chaotic energy, but he knew that if this was too much for him, Maguire would intervene. He ducked down and gave Harry’s cock another lick, watching the instant effect on the man’s snarl of pleasure. And then he felt Jamie grabbing and pulling at his cheeks, and the nervousness returned as he felt the slick wet rub of a cock between his buttocks. `Go easy on him,’ barked Harry. `Hurt him and I’ll kick you again.’ `Trust me,’ came Vardy’s voice. `He’s gonna love it.’ Ben braced himself. He felt Vardy’s dick, fortunately much slimmer and shorter than the one in his hand and against his lips, pressing up and down his crack, prodding at the hole that Harry had relaxed with some skill. `Oh yes,’ he heard Jamie murmur, `you’re much more ready now, lad…’ Ben felt the sting of it pushing into him, and he eyed Harry nervously whilst running his tongue about his bell-end. `Careful,’ Maguire said warningly, looking over him with menacing brows. `Just relax,’ Jamie muttered impatiently. Ben made a little murmur of pain, unsure this was going to work after all. He could feel his ring being tested by Jamie’s eager jabbing, but it felt too sore to enjoy yet. He kissed at Harry’s shaft to distract himself but it didn’t help. Jamie was grunting in frustration and pushing a bit too forcefully in resentment of Ben’s inexperienced tightness. `Change position,’ Harry butted in, his knight in naked armour. `Get on the bed, Vardy.’ Ben relaxed and rose up on his knees shakily, feeling sweaty with the tension of what he was trying to do. Jamie scrambled past him, looking a bit red-faced. It was obvious he was somewhat intimidated by the ex-teammate between them, and that Maguire was threatening his ego here. As he moved between them, Jamie slid down, and was pushed around a bit by Harry, who grappled him onto his back. `Right,’ Harry barked then, `you can try squatting it and stay in control, Chilly… And me? Well, get ready to use that tongue again, Jamie…’ And Harry shifted forward, up on his knees too, and Ben watched open-mouthed as Harry lowered himself until he was more or less sitting on Jamie’s face. Fuck! Ben scrabbled forward and leant out to balance himself by grabbing arms with Harry, then lowered his arse over Jamie’s crotch. He felt Vardy help him out, pulling at his cheeks from below and poking his cock at the right angle. The skinnier older striker writhed a bit beneath them, for a moment as if he wasn’t up for it, but then came his moans of excitement. Ben felt the cock between his buttocks again and eased himself down, feeling his hole opening more willingly now. His and Harry’s arms clutched each other, leaning in close as their bottoms pressed down on Vardy. Harry’s face was contorted in glee: he was clearly getting an insane rimjob from the filthy footballer beneath. Ben just gawped and then winced and then understood why this was meant to feel good… whoa. Jamie was sliding more and more into him from below. From beneath, Jamie began to thrust upwards, and Ben could see his hands hooked about Harry’s thick thighs. His eyes darted upwards, and he met Harry’s gaze. The two ex-teammates looked deeply into each other’s eyes, affirming their bond. Harry’s expression was questioning. `How is it?’ he mouthed worriedly, and Ben just nodded and grinned his confirmation, then let out a loud moan as he dared to squat lower. `Ohhh…’ Almost as one, he and Maguire both reached down to pull on their dicks, and began to wank like mad. The stretched canvas of Jamie’s torso lay beneath and between them, and Ben could just visualise the mess they were going to make on him. He began to ride the dick with a bit more confident, straddling Vardy’s form and feeling him go deeper into him… it was unlike any sensation he’d ever had before, but it was driving him wild. He was going to cum any second, already! `Mmm, Jamie, that tongue is so skilled,’ Harry grunted, and he pushed down a bit more on him, laughing, then sat back up a bit more, to get a better grip on his dick. The men came almost in tandem, firing their loads onto the lightly freckled flesh. Harry pulled his arse off Vardy, still pumping the last drops of cum out of his dick. Ben looked down at Jamie’s wild-eyed expression of desire and rivalry, and road his dick for a few thrusts more as his cock throbbed and ached with orgasm, then pulled off, with a sting of renewed pain in his backside. He flopped onto the bedding with a pained gasp. Next to him, Jamie lay quivering, and grabbed at his cock to wank himself to completion, which didn’t take long. Ben sat up, and looked at big naked Harry, stood in the centre of the hotel room. `God,’ Maguire murmured. `I really should be going. This was meant to be a… flying visit.’ `Well don’t let us keep you,’ Jamie grunted bitterly. Ben clambered over his roommate and up onto his feet, cock swinging. `Thanks for er, cumming,’ he sniggered, patting one of Harry’s arms, panting a little. `That was…’ He fought for the word. `Unreal.’ Harry nodded with a crooked smile. `Unreal,’ he echoed faintly. `But… my wife is waiting, and we both have games tomorrow. We’re going to be fucking shattered.’ He rubbed at his sweaty face and pulled fingers through his tufty hair. `Shit, man. Does it hurt?’ he asked quietly. Ben nodded honestly, but couldn’t stop himself smiling. `You wanna shower before you go?’ Harry shook his head, and looked about for his clothes. `I really better hurry. I’ve got quite a drive.’ He gave Ben a brief hug, then moved to the bed to grab at where his undies and jeans had fallen. He leaned over Vardy, both naked, and slapped him on his thigh. `You treat this lad right, you hear me? I miss you both, but don’t make me come sort things out in my old stomping ground, huh?’ He grinned down at his older friend, but there was no joking in his tone. Vardy nodded silently, letting out a long sigh, then Harry snatched up his things and began to dress. A minute later, once he was hurrying off, Ben lingered naked at the window, and watched the lanky Yorkshireman hurrying across the deserted car park to his jeep. He sighed contentedly, glanced over at Jamie, who was snoring already, and laughed to himself. Harry was right: they were gonna be fucking shattered tomorrow. He headed to the bathroom, in desperate need of a shower, and found himself limping a bit. Oh god, it really did hurt now… Was he actually going to be fit to play tomorrow?! He laughed nervously to himself, turned on the shower, and disappeared into its hot spray, turning over the night’s fun in his head frame by frame. Wow. Just wow.