Chapter One: My Favorite Boy
"Great job Miguel!" said Coach Barthez, giving me a smile. "With my cunning and your skill, we will never be defeated!"
Yeah, we'd won. But I felt like we had lost.
And I apparently was displaying this.
Around me, the others were celebrating, and thinking about the next battle. But Barthez, with a wave of his hand, dismissed them, leaving him and I, alone.
"Miguel…" he said, inching closer to me. "We should… talk."
He stepped closer then, taking my hand. He leaned down, and pressed his lips against my ear.
"Miguel, what's wrong? You won, you should be happy," he whispered.
I didn't know what to say.
"I am happy, sir."
"No, you're not. But I think I know why…"
He took my hand, leading me to a side door. This was his room, a place that was normally forbidden to us.
It was a simple room, nothing fancy, as it wasn't a permanent dwelling.
It did have the basics however, and the one piece of furniture that we were both eyeing.
The bed. He led me to it.
"Sit, sit," he said, moving to the back of the bed and sitting down, leading me to sit down next to him. He then, took my hand, and guided it… into his lap, pressing down, letting me feel the heated area, my fingertips curling slightly inwards, grazing against the growing bulge.
I didn't look surprised. This had happened before.
Barthez smiled at me. "This is what you want, right Miguel? You want to show your gratitude for all I've done. You want.. to give me pleasure."
I knew that inside, I did want to show gratitude for all Barthez had done for me. But was this how I should be doing it?
"Yes Coach Barthez. I want to give you pleasure," I echoed, curling my fingers just a bit more.
He leaned in toward me, kissing my cheek, surprisingly gently. I did not stiffen, like I would if it was anyone else.
He sensed I was vulnerable. Was he taking advantage of me?
I looked up at him. He could sense my uncertainty. Sure we'd done this before—but was it right?
"Don't worry Miguel. You're not doing anything wrong. You're just… displaying how you feel. And I know how badly you want to make your coach feel good…"
I couldn't argue. There was nothing I wouldn't do for Barthez.
He extended his arm, wrapping it around my waist, pulling me tenderly toward him. I moved with him, and soon I was pressed snugly against his body. Peppering my face with little kisses, he paused before claiming my lips, kissing me intensely, shifting my body on top of him without me even noticing.
After the kiss I found myself lying against him, my eyes, slightly crossed, gazing, my nose touching his own. My fingers now lie deep in his purpleish tresses, and my legs were on either side of him, holding me in place and allowing the growing, heated stiffness between my legs to mingle with Barthez's, creating a dull friction that practically begged to be satisfied.
He reached up, stroking the side of my face. "Miguel…" he whispered, making my name sound so sensual, so amazingly erotic and forbidden. I could only lean into his fingers, enjoying their texture on my smooth skin.
Leaving my face, Barthez's long fingers traveled down my neck to my shoulders. He tugged at my vest, a signal that it was time for it to go, and I paused, rising up, taking it off and flinging it to the side.
Now, I was sitting up, straddled across his lap and looking down at him. He was licking his lips as he sat up and kissed me, more roughly than the last time, tongue demanding entrance to my mouth. I gave the access readily, feeling his warm hands sliding underneath my shirt, pulling it upward, over my head.
The shirt was also thrown off the bed, and I could feel Barthez's fingers roaming over my exposed chest. He seemed to pause for a second, and I knew what that meant. It was my turn.
Taking the offensive, I leaned down, undoing the clasps on his purple jacket. He allowed me to remove it, and I tossed it gently to the floor. The purple shirt underneath was a little more work, being long-sleeved and very inconvenient. Managing to pull it off, I let my lusting tongue do the rest, touching the wet tip to his burning skin. Flicking against one of his nipples, I felt his breath catch. At that, I spoke.
"Enjoying yourself?" I said, making the mistake of thinking I was in control.
He looked at me, and I knew he didn't like my little idea.
Before I could register what had happened, I'd been grabbed, flipped, and thrown down against the bed, Barthez's body looming over mine.
"I am enjoying myself, Miguel… But I think that it's time that I took charge again," he said tilting forward as if to kiss me, but then veering off course and heading for the side of my neck, teeth bared.
I yelped as his 'fangs' sunk in, and I knew that the mark he would leave would advertise to the world that I, belonged to him.
Finishing the bite, he lapped at the wound, almost apologetically, before seeming distracted and trailing his tongue around, under my chin, down my chest, ending where my red pants began.
He rose, poking at my pants with a finger. "These need to come off," he said, eyeing me hungrily, "Get up and remove them for me."
I quickly followed his order, rising from the bed, planting my feet on the floor.
Unbuttoning my pants and zipping them down, I hooked my thumbs so that they held my pants and my underwear, and pulled them both down slowly, before letting them drop around my ankles. Stepping out of the discarded articles, I stood, naked for Barthez's viewing pleasure.
I could tell, he was enjoying what he saw, as he licked his lips and also rose from the bed, standing in front of me, looking up, then down. He held me to him, and I could feel myself rubbing against the fabric of his white pants. Barthez smiled.
"Don't you wish I would take these pants off, Miguel? They're all that stands between us now."
"Yes. Please," I begged, feeling my lust taking hold of me.
Instantly he removed them, letting them fall to the floor to pile with my own clothing. I scanned my eyes over his now naked form, even as he led me back onto the bed.
He wasted no time.
He positioned himself and then, I could feel his entrance. I bit my lip, as not to rouse the rest of the team with my pleasured moaning, but Barthez assured me.
"Don't worry about them. They won't care about this, Miguel. Besides, they understand. So please… express your feelings."
That doubled as his warning that he was about to move, and move again, his thrusting causing me to writhe with frenzied satisfaction.
I felt myself giving over to pleasure, the world was getting light around me.. The last thing I heard was Barthez's voice, silky and low with the occasional lusty pant.
"You're my favorite boy Miguel. Never forget. It's you that I love."
I replied, a simple answer that summed up our relationship so well.
"Yes, sir."
