France v Italy
Title : France v Italy (Group C, game six)
Author: dalehead
Pairing : Orlibean
Rating : NC-18
Summary : Football … yep, that’s right !
Disclaimer: This is entirely made up.
Author’s Note : For my lovely lurkers!
For once Sean was quiet during the match. Italy played well enough, at times with a certain amount of flair and panache even.
“They start off slow and then they gather momentum, wouldn’t be surprised if they win,” Sean was slurring, this was mainly because he was lying over Orlando’s lap, Orlando’s fingers inside him, rubbing over his very sensitive spot and scratching over his balls. He was far too comfortable to move but he was listening intently.
“What about the Netherlands?” Orlando was thinking how much he really wanted to fist his boy.
“Started off really well, they may have peaked too soon…”
“And Spain?”
“They’ll get knocked out by the Italian on Sunday, betcha…”
“How much?”
“Hundred quid.”
“You’re on…”
“Good… and look at that, Henry missed, bollocks. Poor bastard…” Sean was at peace with the world, he forgave the French for whatever it was they’d done to get him going.
“You’re much calmer for a pre match fuck,” Orlando grinned. “I should do that more often…”
“You carry on like that and I’ll fart.” Sean could fart to order more or less.
Orlando pinched his love’s hip hard. “Don’t even think about it,” he remembered the time his windy lover had farted while he had Orlando’s fingers were buried inside him - it wasn’t an experience to be repeated.
“You’re planning something aren’t you?” Sean glanced over his shoulder.
“How did you know?” Orland paused to drop a kiss on one still pink buttock.
“Cos I know you.”
“I’d like to brand you Sean, but don’t answer me now, just think about it yeah?”
It was the sixty second minute and De Rossi's 30-yard free-kick was deflected past Coupet by the outstretched foot of Henry. Italy was now 2-0 up and the game was over.
The world was about to cease spinning on its axis at the enormity of what Sean was about to say.
“Let’s go to bed and discuss it…”
France 0-2 Italy
Author: dalehead
Pairing : Orlibean
Rating : NC-18
Summary : Football … yep, that’s right !
Disclaimer: This is entirely made up.
Author’s Note : For my lovely lurkers!
For once Sean was quiet during the match. Italy played well enough, at times with a certain amount of flair and panache even.
“They start off slow and then they gather momentum, wouldn’t be surprised if they win,” Sean was slurring, this was mainly because he was lying over Orlando’s lap, Orlando’s fingers inside him, rubbing over his very sensitive spot and scratching over his balls. He was far too comfortable to move but he was listening intently.
“What about the Netherlands?” Orlando was thinking how much he really wanted to fist his boy.
“Started off really well, they may have peaked too soon…”
“And Spain?”
“They’ll get knocked out by the Italian on Sunday, betcha…”
“How much?”
“Hundred quid.”
“You’re on…”
“Good… and look at that, Henry missed, bollocks. Poor bastard…” Sean was at peace with the world, he forgave the French for whatever it was they’d done to get him going.
“You’re much calmer for a pre match fuck,” Orlando grinned. “I should do that more often…”
“You carry on like that and I’ll fart.” Sean could fart to order more or less.
Orlando pinched his love’s hip hard. “Don’t even think about it,” he remembered the time his windy lover had farted while he had Orlando’s fingers were buried inside him - it wasn’t an experience to be repeated.
“You’re planning something aren’t you?” Sean glanced over his shoulder.
“How did you know?” Orland paused to drop a kiss on one still pink buttock.
“Cos I know you.”
“I’d like to brand you Sean, but don’t answer me now, just think about it yeah?”
It was the sixty second minute and De Rossi's 30-yard free-kick was deflected past Coupet by the outstretched foot of Henry. Italy was now 2-0 up and the game was over.
The world was about to cease spinning on its axis at the enormity of what Sean was about to say.
“Let’s go to bed and discuss it…”
France 0-2 Italy