TITLE : All on a Summer's Day - Part Three
AUTHOR : Dave
PAIRINGS : Steven Gerrard, Jamie Carragher with reference to Emile Heskey
RATING : NC-17
DISCLAIMER : Ditto previous two episodes

The weather could not have been better. Hot, sultry and still, like the long forgotten and dusty summers of yesteryear which Jamie Carragher and Steven Gerrard were far too young to remember. Only the faintest murmur of a breeze rustled the grass and trees of the lushly foliaged woods; nothing else stirred apart from the two Liverpool footballers who, at that moment in time, had forgotten all about the real reason they had gone to the woods, i.e. an afternoon of jogging to keep up their match fitness.

A more interesting pastime involving the pleasures of the flesh had taken over and Gerrard was glad he had bided his time and not tried to get Carragher into bed at home, which had been his original intention. Sex in the great outdoors, especially on what was bound to be the hottest day of the year so far - and not just weather-wise - was far more enjoyable, the thrill of the thought of being caught in the act increasing the excitement a thousand times over.

At first, though, when they arrived at the woods, Gerrard still hadn't been too sure he'd get it off with Carragher. The latter had derided his team captain for staring at his cock when he was momentarily naked as they changed into their running kit but Carragher had soon changed his tune, after they had been jogging unrelentlessly for more than half an hour, when Gerrard had strolled off the main path of the woods into a deep-scented pine copse to have a piss.

Carragher had had loads of sex with women over the years but all the time had wanted to try it with a man and sexy Steven Gerrard was the man he most wanted to try it with. It was just that the institution in which he and Gerrard had chosen to make their careers was the most asexual in the land and Carragher knew he'd never be able to face his team mates if they realised he liked men just as much as, or even moreso than, women. It seemed daft that with all that social male nudity in the changing room and all that same sex kissing on the pitch whenever the ball went successfully into the back of the net, the world of football should still be so ruthlessly homophobic.

Gerrard didn't seem to be too bothered about it, however, and in any case, they were faraway from the prying eyes of the Premiership and could do what they fucking well liked now they were all alone in the woods. Or so they thought; they had no idea that their team mate Emile Heskey was jogging only a short distance away from them, after having first stopped for a piss and a wank in the cottage by the car park.

Even if they had known that Heskey was in the vicinity of the woods, it was too good an opportunity to miss, Carragher realised, if he was to ever work out whether he was gay or not, so it didn't take long for him to decide to follow Gerrard into the copse, his eyes all the time focused on the fabulous sight of Gerrard whose vest reached down to the waisteband of his butt hugging tight white shorts, framing his superb and succulent arse.

Now, though, Gerrard's shorts were round his ankles as he stood there bent over, his vest riding up his back, as Carragher's tongue probed his exposed bare arsehole. With his cock and balls hanging down between his legs, the entire sexual area of Gerrard's body was on show and Gerrard couldn't have cared less; he was a horny little fucker and the sleazier things were, the better he liked it. He had always had the opinion that the exhibitionism side of sex was just as important as the actual sex itself; seeing and being seen, especially those parts of the body that were normally covered up, was all part of the fun.

Carragher had been inclined to talk a lot but Gerrard, after having waited months to get Carragher to himself, just wanted him to get on with it. And so it was in almost total silence that Carragher rimmed the arsehole of the captain of Liverpool F.C., the only sounds being the small whimpering noises of enjoyment from Gerrard as Carragher's silky tongue started to work its magic.

Gerrard could hardly believe that Carragher was a complete novice; surely he must have licked arse before? But if he said he hadn't, well Gerrard wasn't going to disbelieve him. It didn't make any difference, anyway, the simple truth of the matter was that Carragher, beginner or no beginner, was tickling Gerrard's arse with his tongue to such perfect effect that Gerrard would have cum his load almost immediately if he hadn't stopped wanking when he did. As he had thought to himself only a few minutes previously, things were just beginning; no way did he want to curtail the session by having an orgasm too soon.

Eventually, though, Carragher had to pause for breath. As he withdrew his tongue, Gerrard stepped out of his shorts and lifted himself up to his full height as he pulled his vest over his head, throwing it carelessly onto the grass where it landed a few feet away from his discarded shorts.

Gerrard was stark bollock naked now, apart from his socks and trainers. Even though the trees acted as a filter, the sun was hotter than ever, caressing the top half of Gerrard's splendid sportsman's body and glinting on the streaks of sweat which were breaking out on his chest, shoulders and back as his nipples began to harden.

"Now," said Gerrard, breaking the silence at last and holding his cock aloft as he peeled back his easily retractable foreskin, "let's see how good you are with the blow jobs."

Gerrard was grateful that he could maintain his erection without any problems; it would be many years before he ever needed to rely on "Viagra", if at all. He turned to face Carragher, proudly pointing his outstretched cock in the direction of Carragher's mouth.

Carragher had licked lots of women's fannies in his time but had never sucked a man's cock before. He'd dreamed about doing so for ages and wasn't going to hold back now; if he hadn't been prepared for such eventualities, he would never have followed Gerrard into the copse in the first place.

"Suck my cock," said Gerrard, smiling one of his all too rare smiles again. "Take it right to the back of your throat."

"Yeah, go for it," Carragher breathed, almost to himself. He couldn't ever remember being this excited with any of his numerable female conquests, he must be a true homo after all, and a split second later he was hungrily devouring Gerrard's cock which stood out like a battering ram, sucking hard and tasting the steadfast organ in every conceivable way: taking it, as Gerrard had ordered, right to the back of his throat, then releasing it into the fresh air to run his tongue up and down the shaft before tickling the knobhead as it slipped in and out of Gerrard's foreskin.

The Liverpool captain's knob wasn't so much huge as fucking mammoth; as Carragher once more took the elongated prick all the way to the back of his throat, almost choking in the process, he sucked and sucked with a slow and deliberate intensity, sending Gerrard into paroxysms of delight.

"That's the way, Jamie," said Gerrard as Carragher continued to go to town with all the sexual prowess he could muster, sucking hard on the rigid horn, "you're an absolute natural." Carragher's cock was fully hard as well, poking out over the waisteband of his red running shorts, as Gerrard rocked his body to and fro while his cock went in and out of Carragher's mouth more times than he could count; they might both be young yet, paradoxically in Carragher's case, seemed more experienced than some men twice their age, their appetite for gay mansex being both healthy and voracious.

"Go down on my sweaty balls," said Gerrard. "Lick 'em."

Carragher was enjoying himself but was starting to get the feeling things were turning into one of those master/slave sessions he had once seen in a porno video. Gerrard had been pulling the strings all the time, which was not surprising since he was the team captain and therefore knew how to motivate people, and even though Carragher realised it would be very easy to fall in love with Gerrard, Carragher sincerely hoped that what they were doing that afternoon in the woods would not be merely a "one off". He realised he would soon have to start taking the law into his own hands if they were to stand any chance of carrying on from wherever this afternoon left off ...

On to Part 4