futbol sexual frustration blog

we all have it. so here at futbol sexual frustration, feel free to submit photos, videos, stories, or just a thought or two about the footballers who tickle your fancy. Submitting: Submit here. If your submission is really long, send it via email here. Want to be anonymous? Drop your submission in our ask box and the mods will gladly copy and paste it into a post. sexually frustrated fans were here

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i cant get to the one shots i click the link and it says not found the link i mean.

that's super weird! I checked and the rest of the tags are working fine, there just seems to be something wrong with our one-shot tag. we have them all tagged though, so the best way of finding them otherwise would probably be to just do ctrl+f and type "one-shot" into the search and it should bring you to every work on that page with that tag.  

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hey can we post stories in spanish?

of course! 

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Us-Cesc Fabregas

From my new(ish) blog letsdreamaboutarsenal.tumblr.com. Enjoy x

Now.

People say I knew it was coming. And I did. I knew from the moment we met that we were hurtling towards this. But being here. Now. It made it real. I looked at the guy in front of me. My best friend. My boyfriend. My hand went to my forehead and lowered covering my mouth. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I don’t know.”

He smiled, “Silly girl.”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t know,” I nodded towards the sign behind him.

His face crumpled. “Em, please.”

I didn’t want to hurt him again. But I was standing on a knife edge.

*

September 2003-Age 15

The clouds were ominously grey, luckily I was at the end of my road. I could see someone outside doing keepy ups with a football. I guessed it was the guy next door. The new one who was being looked after the landlady. He was foreign I think. And young.

I got to my door and searched for my key. “Crap!” I had forgotten it. I could picture it on the kitchen counter where I left it this morning. To top it off the rain started I swore again and hit the door in frustration. Why am I so forgetful?The guy picked up his ball and started walking to his door. “Come, come!” He said.

I didn’t care that he could have been a rapist or a murderer or something I just wanted to get inside. I took my shoes off in the hallway of his house and looked up at him. Even if he was a murderer he was quite cute. He had dark brown eyes that reminded me of chocolate. “Thank you.” I said.

“I’m sorry, my English is… not good,” I noticed now his accent. Spanish I guessed.

“Spain?” I asked

He nodded enthusiastically, “Err drink? Eat?”

He went through to the kitchen and pulled a jar of nutella out. I wasn’t going to say no to that…

“TV?”

“Ok.”

We took our sandwiches through to the living room and switched the TV on.

“What’s your name?” I asked, realised it was rude that this guy was feeding me and I had no idea who he was.

“Cesc.”

I smiled, “I’m Em,”

We sat and watched TV. At that moment I was unaware of what we would become. Me and Cesc. 

*

“You won’t forget me when you become captain of Arsenal will you?”

In a short time Cesc’s English had improved and we could converse better now. He had just played in a reserves match and we were lying in our favourite park, on a hill that looked over the city.

“How could I ever forget you? You watched me in my first ever match!”

After that first day we hung out when I got home from school every day. We played on the playstation or watched football. I tried to help with his English but after a while it didn’t matter anymore, we just understood each other.

I can remember when he told me he was a footballer. I was stunned, I thought he would have been in one of the lower league clubs but when he said Arsenal I knew he must be good. To be here this young. It seems like fate that he was playing for my team. The team I had supported since I could remember. The team I had a season ticket for.

“Besides I may never even play for the first team.”

“You will. I promise you, one day you will captain that side.”

“And I promise you, you will be the first to find out.”

We sat in silence. The conversation having gotten deeper than usual.

“What’s the time?” I asked.

“Errr. 9.30.”

“My Mum is going to kill me.” Saying this however I made no effort to get up.

When I did eventually get in my Mum was furious. “What time do you call this?! You’re 15, You shouldn’t be out at 10 o’clock in London!”

“I was with Cesc.”

“Cesc. Great. All I hear now is his bloody name. Bad influence.”

I rolled my eyes, how many times had I heard this now?

“You’re grounded until your birthday.”

I swore under my breath and went to my room. “And don’t even think about inviting Cesc to your birthday!” My Mum shouted behind me. I just about heard her mutter, “Bloody footballers.”

I got a text from Cesc that weekend. I’M PLAYING WITH THE FIRST TEAM!

I squealed with excitement for him.

I had to be there!

I knew my Mum wouldn’t let me go so I opened my window and lowered myself down. It didn’t even feel bad,  I just wanted to see Cesc play.

When he came on I screamed and jumped up and down. The people around me were muttering, “Who?” To them he was just some teenager Wenger had bought.

We met after the match and he looked so happy. “You did it!” I screamed.

We walked back and bought Kinder chocolate to celebrate. When we got to my house I had to go round the back and through my window again. My plan had obviously failed though as Mum was sitting on my bed. Shit.

“I don’t even know what to say Emelia.”

Then don’t say anything.

“It’s unacceptable. This boy is-“

“It wasn’t his fault. I chose to go to the match. I have a season ticket. I would have gone even if we aren’t friends.”

“What part of being grounded don’t you understand?”

“God, it was just a football match.”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that. I’m thinking about cancelling your birthday.”

“I’m not 6.”

“That’s it Emelia. Don’t expect any party.”

She stalked out of my room and I flopped on my bed. I sent a text to Cesc to inform him of what had just happened. He text back saying sorry but I said I wouldn’t have missed the match for the world.

*

I thought my Mum was joking about my birthday but it turned out she wasn’t. When I walked through in the morning she barely looked up from her newspaper. “Now you’re 16 I’m hoping you’ll start taking responsibility for your actions.”

Happy birthday to me.

I sighed and sat with my cereal. For the rest of the day I did nothing. Arsenal were away and Cesc was with the team so I couldn’t even talk to him. I listened to the match on the radio and then just lay in bed. Pfft. What a day.

At about 11pm I heard a knock on my window. I jumped up and then relaxed when I was it was Cesc.

“Happy Birthday!” he said. The first person to say it today.

“Thank you.”

“I have a present.” He handed a package through the window, oddly wrapped up.

I opened it to see an Arsenal shirt. On the back FABREGAS 57.

“I love it,” I breathed.

I climbed out of my window and we walked up to the park. It was dark but the London sky had an orange glow, we lay in our usual place.

We talked. About the usual thing. Family. Friends. Barcelona. Arsenal. It was cold and I think sub-consciously we had been moving together until the sides of our bodies were touching. I turned my head to look at him and he did the same. We looked at each other before leaning in and touching our lips together. At that moment it felt like the most natural thing in the world. And that was how I spent my 16th birthday. Kissing Cesc Fabregas. 

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VCR - A Sergio Ramos story

I remember being on the beach in Ibiza. I was only 12 years old, the light beach wind easing through my wavy dark brown hair. I remember overhearing my mom speak with someone else, a soft voice. I could feel her hand run down my head, bragging about me, although I was nothing special.

I could now hear his mom brag about his newly started football career. According to his mother he started playing football when he was 6 with the neighborhood team, but now he played in the Sevilla youth academy.

I watched as he was thrown up in the air by an older boy who looked like his brother. He splashed into the waves and then emerged from the water, flicking his hair then looking to his mother, accidentally making eye contact with me.

I quickly looked away and back to my sketchpad, a drawing of a wave crashing ashore filled the page and I shaded in a few droplets of water.

I could hear thumping footsteps approach, water sloshing and dripping as he approached closer. I tried my best to fix my eyes on the canvas sketchbook, my hand gripping the metal spiral tighter.

He shook his wet hair, and water droplets went flying, on my drawing, on his mother, my mother, and my sleeping father's belly, who was still fast asleep.

“Ay! Vamos!” His mother yelled, getting up and grabbing a towel to dry herself off. “Come on.” she motioned to her mother to the beachside bar. My father woke up, taking his sunglasses off, which left a mark, and followed along with my mom and his mom. He ran to catch up with them. They could never deny a few drinks.

I could see him kneel beside me, his shadow covering my body. I managed to keep my eyes locked, flipping to a new page and drawing a few scribbles, pretending to not notice he was breathing down my neck.

“What?” I finally spoke up as I felt a few drops of water on my thigh and some fell onto the notebook. I looked up and our faces were a few inches apart. I really never noticed how close he actually was.

He grinned, his teeth filled with braces, blue and silver. I giggled, and set my pencil and book back down onto the towel.

He quickly closed his mouth, like he had forgotten that he had braces, and sat down in the sand.

“Our moms like each other.” He said absentmindedly.

“And the bar.” I added. Even though I was only 12 I had matured beyond my years.

He let out a laugh, followed by a light snort. I couldn't help but laugh at how awkward he was. His hair drooped down on his face and stuck onto various places of his skin.

“I'm Sergio.” He said cheerfully. He had a very happy personality, very open and lively.

“I'm Ana.”

His mother called for him and his brother and then they were gone. Just like that. 

------------------

**Note - This story takes place during their childhood and then as they grow up, so some/most of the events will be based on the real events that we know about his life, but some of them will be made up, if that makes sense. 

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Not A Runaway (Chapter 1)

Author Note: my first fic ever so I am sorry for the ugliness of my writings :|--

"Holy shit. 5PM already" Caro said as she looked at her watch.

"5PM? The party starts at 7PM right?""Exactly. And I haven't finish this crap""let me help you with those" I said, offering her a help. I was helping Caro with her papers when my phone rang all of a sudden. "Jess?""Oh hi Aaron. What is it?""Uh Jess will you come to Mary's party tonight?""Yes. Why?" "Nothing I just need to meet you. Its a long story" he said. "Are you okay?""I'm fine. All set.""Aaron? Is something wrong?" I raised an eyebrow."No biggie I just dont wanna be forever alone there""Whatever. See you at the party. Bye""See you. Bye" He ended the call. Something was wrong. I don't know how. I just knew.We've been friends since we were 4. He was my neighbor. He was also my classmate. So yeah. - "Jessica! Caroline!" Mary smiled and hugged me and Caro. "How are you guys? Oh you both are so gorgeous" "Lie" I rolled my eyes."Thanks but you're way more gorgeous, Ms. Birthday" Caro said, I just smiled."Thanks! Come on in. I hope you guys enjoy my party. I'll meet you after the party, okay?" Mary said as she left us to greet some other guests. - It was almost midnight. I sat alone at the bar when everybody's on the dance floor. Caro was probably going out with a guy. As usual. I was there. Sitting alone, playing with my beer glass. "Jess! Jessica!" I heard someone called my name. I looked around to find who the hell was yelling my name.Its Aaron. "Oh Aaron!" I come up to him "How's everything? Is something wrong?""No, Jess. Everything's fine" "Really? And why are you alone?" I looked at him, giving him the look."Okay, okay" he sighed."So what is happening?""I...........I just broke up with Colleen" he sighed one more time."Holy mother of-- what? How? You two were such a perfect couple. Were you being a dick and she left or?" "What? No. It was her" he said. I didnt say anything, I just gave him this confused look and raised an eyebrow. Then he continued, "She cheated on me. And the worse part is; she didn't seem to care if I ever find this out. I did. And yeah" he looked so damn awful. "Oh Aaron I'm so sorry to hear that. I don't know what else to say but yeah, its just... kinda unbelievable, you know? as i said you two were soooo perfect. Remember when--" I stopped, realizing that I was so wrong to bring those all memories back. Wrong place, wrong time. "Ok I'll stop talking now. Just... idk. Be tough? Everything will be just fine. You're Aaron Ramsey! So many girls out there who want to do anything to get you" I smiled. "Thank you so much, Jess. I know that talking to you will always help me out. At least I have someone to talk with. Really. Thanks" "Don't mention it. Next time if you have a problem, you're not allowed to keep it to yourself. As a friend, I feel awful for not being able to help you" "Okay, your majesty. Your wish is my command""Jerk. It wast my wish. It really was a command" He laughed. There was a dead silent for a while. We were sitting at the bar while the others were on the dance floor. I was still looking around, trying to find Caro - and about how should I go home without her. "Wanna dance?" Aaron asked me and grabbed my hands. He didn't let me answer his question. "I can't dance! Aaron!"  "Well if it makes you feel better, I can't dance either" he smiled and took me to the dance floor. "So why are we here on the dance floor?""Come on. You said you wanna help me. So help me. I need something to cheer me up."I gave up anyway. We danced. And that was -honestly- so fun. - Time passed by. 1:30AM already. And I was still talking with Aaron at the bar. "I gotta go home now" I looked at my watch. "Oh okay then" We stood up. "where's Caro by the way?" He asked me as he looked around the room. "I don't know. Going out with a guy maybe""Typical whore" he said and rolled his eyes. "Do you need a ride home?""No, no its fine. Seriously" He stared at me for a while and said "No. I'll drive you home" "Aaron its okay. Really""I'm not letting a girl going home alone at this hour. Wait for me at the lobby, I'll go get the car""What--" He left already, didn't let me finish my sentence. Oh well. I gotta say I was kinda glad to have him to drive me home. Oh Caro and her friggin boys collection... - "Here it is. We're here" he stopped his car in front of my house and turned his head to look at me. "Ah home sweet home. Thanks for the ride, Aaron" "And thanks for tonight" "But I didn't do anything"  "You kidding me? You helped me a lot. I dont know why. You just did. Cause I feel better now. Maybe because of that dance..." He laughed. "Really. Thanks. I had fun" he said again. His eyes were staring at mine. And there was this feelings like...... I don't know what it was. "Me too" I said. He was still staring at me. "Alright. I gotta go now. I'm so tired. Thanks again" I said, getting of the car "Good night, Jess""Good night" - "Wake up, party animal" I poked Caro's leg, trying to wake her up. "Dammit Jess I need to sleep" "But its 10PM and you said that you have a class on 11PM""Holy shit" She jumped out of bed."Ah look who's already up. Good morning, princess" I teased her."Shut up, Ramsey""Wait what?""Yes. Come on, Jess. I know about last night. He drove you home, didn't he? And you two danced at the party. And that phone call yesterday when you were helping me with my papers" "Give me a break. He's just my friend, Caro. Come on, Like you dont know." I rolled my eyes. "Admit it, Jess. And oh, he just broke up with Colleen, right? Its obvious. You two have something." She said then walked to the balcony to take her towel. How did she know about Aaron breaking up with Colleen? But that doesnt really matter. But how come she teased me like that? I mean she knows that we were just friends.... - I sat on my sofa and turned on my tv. I was home alone. Caro was already at her Uni. I almost fell asleep when I heard the door bell rang. I got up and opened the door. "Hi Jess"

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where is part 3 of mind games? its not on the list.

here!

same as before; it wasn't tagged. all fixed now! 

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where's part 5 to talking to the moon?

here ya go!

it wasn't tagged before (whoops), but now it's fixed :) 

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I submitted a sergio ramos story the other day, did you get it?

yup! it's in the queue now and should be posted sometime today 

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Title: Je Ne Sais Pas

Featuring: Yoann Gourcuff

Summary: Elle, the half-French cousin of Samir Nasri, had always been that shy girl who moved around a lot because of her British diplomat father. But once upon a Parisian summer day, in Musée d’Orsay…

Chapter Nine: Deja vu Blues

Elle remembered seeing Parade de Cirque in the Met when she was in high school. Even though she was never a big fan of Seurat, the Circus that she had seen in Musée d’Orsay was so much more lively and captivating.

“Did you know that Seurat believed that an artist was like a musician? He thought that by using a mixture of color, a painter could create harmony. Naturally, composers would use counterpoint and variation to create harmony too. Just like music theory, there’s actually this thing called color theory…”

Elle paused.

“I’m sorry,” she turned to her companion, “I’m rambling again.”

Nate laughed at her flustered reaction, shaking his head, assuring her that it was fine. She was mesmerized by the art works, as he was captivated by her. Every single reaction she gave to him was always perfect to Nate.

“Elle, I remember that you said that you liked Monet. I checked the collection list last night; there’s a Monet painting on level three. I think it’s called ‘Water-Lilies.’ Let’s go there.”

Hiding her weariness, Elle smiled and nodded. She was still fond of the French impressionist, but after the conversation with Yoann just last night…

“Monet painted about 250 oil paintings of water lilies at the end of his life,” Elle told Nate and paused, adding solemnly, “I think what makes them really special is that he suffered cataracts while painting them. It’s tragic that happened to him. Only the best suffered… Beethoven lost his hearing, Matisse suffered arthritis…”

“250 paintings?” Nate repeated, “That’s so many!”

“Well,” Elle hummed, “he was one of the best.”

Once arriving in front of the water lilies painting, Elle noticed that she was holding her breath. She remembered seeing Reflections of Clouds on the Water-Lily Pond in MoMA, but for some reason, standing there in front of the warm glow of the sea-rose lilies was a whole new experience.

“I think Monet really is my favorite artist,” Elle confessed to no one but herself.

“He really is amazing,” Nate nodded, “250 paintings… of just water lilies…”

“Elle?” a voice interrupted her daze.

If déjà vu needed an example situation, this was best fit to be so.

Nate and Elle turned around, the former only realizing who it was from TV. Elle already knew, just by the single syllable of her name, that it was him.

Yoann stood just a yard away from the pair. He knew that it was Elle from her short figure and waves of subtle brunette hair, but he didn’t recognize the man next to her.

“Yoann Gourcuff?!” Nate muttered, surprised.

“Yoann,” Elle’s eyes widened, “what are you doing here?”......

READ THE REST OF CHAPTER NINE ET MORE AT: http://yoann-et-elle.tumblr.com/ :)))

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What's up guys? Not much active lately, eh?

Hi there! 

Meh, I know what you mean. We're still here but we've been getting more questions about stories than actual stories lately. But I'm in the midst of setting up a pretty nice queue from the submissions that we /did/ receive, so be expecting some nice stories in the near future! :)

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Are the Cocks Ready? (A Gerard Piqué One-Shot)

The lock on the door clicked shut quietly and his heavy footsteps soon filled the open air of our foyer.  “Shit,” I exclaimed trying to gather all my ingredients in a hurry.  He was home early and my mini chocolate lava cakes weren’t even in the oven yet.  The kitchen was a mess, cracked eggshells, spurts of flour, and hot fudge filling strewn about the speckled marble countertops.  He sauntered into the kitchen and stared at me, covered in flour, dark chocolate staining my apron.  “You’re home too early,” I pouted, crossing my arms about my chest.  His plump lips stretched into a smile on his bearded face, “Lo siento, I just missed you.” 

He zoomed towards me and wrapped his arms around me, lifting me up off the ground.  “Gerard!” I protested, “put me down!  I’m baking!”  He only laughed harder, squeezing me tightly to him and planting soft kisses on my neck.  His scruff was scratching at the sensitive skin below my ear, the roughness contrasting greatly with the softness of his lips.  It made me lose focus for a moment, my eyes fluttering and heartbeat quickening as he sucked and licked my skin.  But I soon regained my composure, remembering my cakes.  I kicked and resisted, but it was no match for his iron grip.  Finally, I was able to reach behind me on the counter and grab a handful of flour from the paper bag.  I flung the powder towards his face and he immediately dropped me, reeling back in surprise as the flour assaulted his eyes.  He huffed and puffed, shaking his head violently in an attempt to see again.  “I can’t believe you did that!” he yelled. 

I laughed at him, his tan skin now covered in white.  “You don’t mess with a girl while she’s baking,” I stated matter-of-factly, returning to my mixing bowl.  There was silence for a moment, but then I felt Gerard’s subtle breath trickle down my neck.  “Oh really?” he asked into the wisps of my hair, “so I can’t do this?”  Before I had time to respond, I heard a small crack and felt a cold goop drop onto my head.  I reached up to my head and felt the cold gel of an entire egg yolk soaking my dark brown hair.  My mouth hung open in shock as I whipped the liquid off my head and face and turned to face him again.  His cheeks must have been burning with how wide he was smiling, his expression goofy and childish. 

He really was a giant kid.  Well two can play at that game Mr. Piqué.  I grabbed a fistful of the chocolate chips that were scattered on the countertop and pegged them at him before dodging behind a set of cabinets.  He groaned as a spray of chocolate chips rained down on him and I was giggling uncontrollably.  “We’ve got the flour,” he said, his voice sounding like he was biting something, “we’ve got the eggs, we’ve got the chocolate chips.  What’s next Betty Crocker?”  I heard his voice distinctly but I couldn’t tell where he was.  I searched my surroundings as best as I possibly could without revealing myself to the warzone.  He was nowhere to be found. 

  I stood up with hesitation, preparing myself for the sneak attack at the inevitably coming.  I was surprised however when I wasn’t immediately met with an egg shower, or sprinkle of flour.  In fact, he wasn’t in the kitchen at all.   “Gerard?” I asked through an uneven and shaky voice.  I was actually a bit scared.  His tall frame suddenly jumped out in front of me from the pantry and doused me in the left overs of the hot fudge filling. 

  “Hot fudge filling,” I answered his question from before, the chocolate seeping down to my clothes.  I flung my apron off and wiped the chocolate from my eyes so I could see.  He laughed at me, thinking he had won.  But I was about to start a whole different game.  A game that only I could win. 

  I ran my tongue slowly across my lips, tracing their outline and then drawing the chocolate I had collected into my mouth.  I closed my eyes as the delectable liquid ran down my throat and I let out a loud,  “Mmmm.”  I ran a finger down my cheek, and then down my face and neck, dragging chocolate along with it.  My finger then made it’s way to the collar of my shirt, pulling it out and stretching it from my body.  Gerard’s eyes were watching me hungrily, although I had a feeling it wasn’t the chocolate he was craving.  I grabbed his hand that was by his side and ran it across my cheek to, gathering a smear of chocolate of his own.  I then drew his finger into my mouth and sucked it clean, slowly removing every speck of the dark chocolate from his skin.  His jaw was hanging open and he was breathing heavily, his chest heaving up and down. 

  I moved closer to him, still unable to speak, and grabbed the bottom of his shirt tightly in my grasp.  I pulled the cotton fabric up and over his head easily, his tan, sculpted chest revealed for me to worship.  He suddenly lounged towards me and crashed our lips together.  He still tasted like flour but it mixed well with the chocolate that was still lingering on my tongue.  We were moaning wildly into each other’s mouths and Gerard gripped my shirt tightly before practically ripping if off.  His hands trailed down from my neck to my hips, unbuttoning my jean shorts quickly and letting them slide down to the floor.  As I was left in my bra and underwear, Gerard picked me up and sat me down on the counter, the cold marble sending shivers throughout my body.  The counters were still messy and I knew I was sitting in some sort of baking ingredient, although I wasn’t sure at the time.  “What about the cocks – I mean cakes?” I asked him innocently.  He chuckled and smirked at me, “They can wait.” 

  We resumed our kiss and as his hands massaged my breasts through my bra.  His lips glided down to my neck and I let my fingers run through his soft hair.  His nimble fingers pulled the straps of my bra off my shoulders and then expertly undid the clasps in the back.  He peeled the lacy fabric away from my skin and I suddenly felt a warm liquid on my chest.  I looked down to find Gerard dripping hot fudge all over my breasts and stomach, the chocolate dripping lower with the passing seconds.  “Delicious,” he breathed as his eyes scanned over me.  He ran his tongue across the front of his teeth before connecting his lips to my skin once again.  My breath hitched as he began to lick the chocolate from my skin, beginning with my breasts.  He was sucking and biting wildly at my chest, devouring every inch of me.  Once my chest was clean, he moved down to my stomach, his tongue dragging across my bellybutton.  He latched onto my underwear and pulled them down, throwing them across the disaster area that was our kitchen.  He knelt down to ground and swung my legs over his shoulders, burying his face between my legs. 

  There wasn’t much chocolate left there, but Gerard was still acting like he hadn’t eaten for days.  I moaned loudly as his tongue flicked across and then slipped inside of me.  His hands moved to grab my butt on the counter as he worked me effortlessly with his skillful tongue.  “Gerard,” I whispered, not finding the strength to speak properly.  He hummed and a jolt of electricity surged through my veins.  My muscles were contracted into jelly and my eyes were clenched shut so tightly I could almost see stars.  Just I as I felt myself about to release, Gerard stood up and met my lips again.  “All done,” he whispered against my mouth.  I slapped him playfully on the chest as his tired lips made their way back to my neck.     

  “Gerard,” I moaned.  He hummed a yes into my skin.  “I know the next ingredient,” I breathed.  I reached to the fridge next to me and opened the door haphazardly, the light flicking on.  His kissed never left my skin, so it was hard to find, but I eventually gripped the cold metal of the can I wanted.  I pulled out the can of whipped cream and popped the top off.  His eyes lit up and I hopped down off of the counter, pushing him forward.  He stumbled back under my pressure and into the wooden cabinets.  He was leaning fully against them and I slithered down his chest to his pants, pulling them down with ease.  His tight briefs were the next to go, and soon he was completely exposed for me.  I stood back up and spray a little whipped cream in the crook of his neck.  He moaned as I licked it off sensually, moving to the other side of his chest and leaving a trail of kisses. 

  I finally made my way down his chest and to his v-line.  I sprayed the whipped cream to perfectly trace the indent of his muscles and then proceeded to lick it off like I had never tasted something so delicious.  My eyes glanced back up to meet his, as we both knew what was next.  I sprayed a generous portion of whipped cream into my hand and then set the can down on the counter.  He jumped as I spread the cold cream over his erection and bent down to my knees.  Once my hand was clean, I replaced it with my mouth, fitting as much of his large manhood into my mouth as humanly possible.  He groaned wildly as I lounged forward and back, sucking and licking around him.  I ran my hands up and down his muscular thighs and he was gripping onto the handles of the cabinets, presumably trying very hard to remain standing.   He was pulsating inside of me, I felt myself bringing him closer to the edge.  I never felt more empowered, more woman than when I was down on Gerard. 

  But I knew I couldn’t let him get off that easily.  I quickly removed him from my mouth and sprang back up to face him, “The cock is ready,” I said cheerfully, “oops, I mean the cake.”  He glared at me, the sweat beading on his brow and his cheeks flushed.  “You’re cruel, you know that?” he exhaled, moving closer to me.  I backed up, running back into the counter once again.  “No I don’t know,” I refuted, “maybe you can show me?”  He grinned his goofy grin and slammed his lips onto mine.  I was pinned between the counter and his rock-hard erection, kissing him fearlessly and passionately.  “Where do you want it?” I asked him seductively, flicking his earlobe with my tongue.  He shivered underneath me but gave no response.  I twisted my arms around his neck and jumped on him, entangling my legs around his waist in a deadlock.  He stumbled back as he caught me, ramming into the fridge.  He spun us around so my back was on the cold refrigerator, a couple of magnets clattering down in the process. 

  Without warning, he bucked himself up into me and I screamed out.  It was always an adjustment getting used to his size.  My body was flying at an upward angle into the fridge repeatedly.  “Gerard, oh my god,” I screamed.  He drew his bottom lip into his mouth and bit down hard as he pumped into me a couple of more times.  His thrusts were weakening, “I’m…I’m close,” he muttered.  “Stop,” I commanded him suddenly.  He did as he was told and stood still.  I pushed him down and back onto the floor, all while he was still inside of me.  He was lying completely flat on the cold kitchen floor, my body pressing on top of his. 

  I rolled my body into his and moaned shamelessly.  His hands ran up my thighs and to my center, rubbing me fiercely.  I began bobbing even faster up and down, his body all working together to give me a pleasure I had never known.  I crashed my hands down onto his chest and his name left my lips in a frenzy.  I moved slower now, sensing both of our bodies and their close proximity to climax.  I let each one of my movements penetrate my body long and hard, grinding myself into him.  He was writhing underneath me, begging me for more.  Gerard bucked his hips and pushed himself farther inside of me, flinging me into a sea of ecstasy.  He groaned as he finished shortly after and I felt him slowly leak in me.  My chest was rising and falling erratically, my head spinning and body tired.  I slumped down on the cold floor next to him and molded myself into his warm body.  “But really, are the cakes ready yet?”  

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underneath the Flames 13 (Iker Casillas)

Now what to wear to make Niko eat his words and make Iker jealous. I thought as I searched through it. After I found what I wanted, I went to sleep believe it or not I was still tired.

That morning I was woken up at 6 am by Luka telling me I had two hours to get ready. So I showered, dried and did my hair putting it up, and letting it stay wavy, after my make up I put on the clothes I laid out last night.  A black mini skirt, black lace top, and a leopard print cardigan to wear over it with matching leopard heels.  When I was finally done getting ready believe it or not Luka was knocking on my door telling me they were outside waiting.

I came out of the room to see Niko with wide eyes, and Luka looking annoyed.

“My sister is now a fucking porn star.” He mumbled as we walked down to the elevator.

“This is the nicest outfit I have.” I defended, as Niko remained silent.

As we walked through the lobby some of the Spanish players were busy being interviewed, and I noticed that half of them stopped and watched me walk by with Niko and Luka.  I was sat at the breakfast next to Ivan who stared with wide eyes at me.

“Jesus Lena what are you trying to do, get Casillas to let us score next week?” Vedran asked me while Niko and Luka were talking to someone at another table.

“Very funny.” I told him sarcastically, as a lot of the present wives and girlfriends glared at me.

“Can I talk to you?” Luka told me as he noticed me flirting with one of the younger guys on his team later on.

“Of course.” I said as he took my arm and led me out of the dinning room and back to our room.

“What the fuck has gotten in to you?” He exclaimed as soon as we were in his room.

“What?” I asked confused.

“Look I get it, I do but acting like this is not going to get you what you want.” He told me.

“What are you talking about?”

“I know you still have feelings for Niko.” He told me, “But you toying around with all these other guys, you’re embarrassing me now I have half the guys on my team telling me how hot my sister is and how they want to get with you.” He exclaimed.

“That’s not what I’m doing.” I said folding my arms.

“So you always dress like this? And randomly sleep with a guy you don’t know?”

“Well,” I began,

“I don’t even want to know what your answer is for that!” He said putting his arms up. “That dinner tonight for the two final teams, don’t’ show up.  That’s even bigger than this was and the last thing I want is the press telling everyone my sister is easy.” He said as he left the room.

Did my brother just call me easy? Okay, maybe I was taking this whole Iker thing too seriously…. But I really like him.  I spent the rest of my morning locked in my room; Niko and Luka didn’t say a word to me.    Maybe it was time I went home?  Or at least to Croatia for the rest of the time I’m supposed to be here before returning back to New York?  I decided to call Andrea once again to see what she thought of my idea of leaving.

“Why would you do that? You still have the finals.” She asked dumbfounded.

“I miss home.” I lied.

“As in Croatia? Really now?” She said not buying it.  “Alright, what happened?” She added.

“My brother pretty much said I was easy, and then told me to not show up at the big dinner tonight.”  I sighed.

“What the fuck could you have done to get him to say that?”

“Remember the outfit I wore to Brook’s birthday party last year?”

“You didn’t!”

“That I did.”

“Okay, here’s what you’re going to do.” She began, “Go shopping, and buy something really nice like so nice you’d only wear to like I don’t know a wedding or something.  And then make sure you leave the same time they do to go to a bar or something that way they’ll see you and be all like oh my god look how nice she looks I can’t not bring her.” She went on.

“Are you sure that could work?”

“If it doesn’t I’ll buy you a kitten when you come home.”

“Okay, I guess that’s a win, win situation.”

“Now go shop till you drop!” She exclaimed hanging up the phone.

So I went out and did just that, of course after I changed in to a pair of jeans and a tee shirt.  I think I searched through maybe five different stores over the course of three hours before I finally found something I liked.  I made it back just in time as they started to get ready.  So I went to go do the same, I showered curled my hair and did my make up and finally changed in to the baby pink dress I bought along with a pair of black tights and a black blazer over it. When I finished I headed out, knowing they would be leaving any minute and oddly enough a few seconds after I left the two of them came strolling out of the room.  I got in the elevator, there still was no words said to me I had a feeling in my gut that this was not going to work and I’d better just wait five minutes outside before going back to the room and ordering a ticket home.  I left the hotel lobby and headed down the street, I ended up calling Andrea to tell her the plan failed.

“Did it work?” Andrea asked as she picked up.

“Negative.”

“What? But that outfit looked really nice!” She exclaimed.

“Neither of them said anything, I guess expect me home early.” I told her.

“Seriously? Are you sure you want to do that?” I asked her as the line beeped indicating there was another call.

“Hold on a second I Have another call,” I told her as I hit send on my phone. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Luka’s voice asked.

“Why does it matter?” I grumbled.

“Because you’re late for dinner.” He told me making me smile.

“Are you sure?”

“Just get back here.” He told me as he hung up.

“It worked!” I told Andrea.

“Told you I’m a fucking genius, now run like the wind bulls eye!”

“Okay, I’m going to go and leave you to watch Toy Story 2.”

“Quality movie.” She said as I hung up and ran to the hotel trying not to trip.

“Well you couldn’t have been that far.” Luka smiled as I entered the lobby out of breath.

“I’m sorry Luka.” I told him as I hugged him tightly.

“Don’t worry about it.” He chuckled giving me a squeeze. He looked at me after he let me go. “Now you look like my sister.” He smiled as we hooked arms and headed to the dinner.

I sat between Luka and Vedran, and talked mainly to them the whole time.  Iker would occasionally glance over at me, but never approached me. 

“You should go talk to him.” Luka mumbled to me.

“Nah, there’s nothing to say.” I told him shaking my head.

The rest of the dinner went well, it was a nice night especially for the guys seeing as training would now go in to over drive.  For the few days between the dinner and the final, I kept more to myself, Luka and Niko.  We’d go out for dinner and a walk and that would be about it seeing as they were so beat after training.   Niko and I had made up a day later so there was no more tension between him and I.  I’d occasionally run in to Iker and we’d exchange an awkward hi and that’d be the end of it.  From what I had heard his girlfriend and had went back to Spain already.  The day of the final came, and I even had knots in my stomach from anxiety.

“I’m so proud of you both.” I told Luka and Niko that morning as they were heading out to the stadium.

“Thanks Lena.” They told me giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll see you at the stadium.” I told them as they left.

Eugene came with me to the game, and we actually had pretty good seats this time on the ground level.  Believe it or not we both were decked out in Croatian jerseys.   I was on the edge of my seat the entire game, cheering my brother and friends on.  By half time the game was tied.

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Where's the next button on this theme?

right under the counter that says how many sexually frustrated fans were here

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someone brought this up, so I think I we need a post about it.

because of fucking karp recent changes , there's a shit ton of restrictions on messages, like not being able to enter and a character limit. even if it does go through, i wouldn't trust it because a fair share of the messages i've sent myself haven't been rececieved. 

that being said.. 

TO SUBMIT ANONYMOUSLY

log out 

go to our submit page 

it'll ask for a name or email or something, i can't remember off the top of my head. just keysmash or write "anon" or make something up. be creative. 

it should go through 

hooray for loopholes. 

and as per usual, if you don't mind people being able to find your blog then don't bother logging off. this is just for our anons. i'll update our info about this if i remember. 

happy writing! :) 

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Why don't you post much these days?

we haven't been receiving many submissions; it's mostly just questions about stories

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Are you updatate all i wan't?<3 miss it!

that story can be found here

[mividaimperfecta-deactivated201]

My (im)perfect life, chapter 1

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mividaimperfecta:

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