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Star Goalie Sequel Ch 04
A Night in Miami, a Problem and a Solution
This is the fourth (and last) chapter of the sequel to “Miguel Our Star Goalie” on Literotica. All characters engaged in sexual activity are over 18. ©Brunosden 2024. All rights reserved.
The soccer stars are still in Miami after winning a national title…..
They uber-ed to South Beach, found a small, but obviously authentic, Cuban sandwich shop and had dinner. Then they went prowling for the liveliest club. They passed a few and finally decided on the Rainbow Pelican, a large and loud spot on the corner, directly across from the littoral beach park—where many benches had been placed under the shadows of palm trees.
They were carded and stamped; then they paid and entered the crowded space. Men outnumbered women by 2 to 1, and many of the women appeared to be with dates, although some of the women were also paired. Carlos and Miguel quickly found dance partners. Again as was typical, both of the Latinos were on the floor all the time, showing off before a series of Latina beauties and occasionally ringed by hungry guys wanting a piece of them. Toward midnight, the hetero couples began to disappear as the same-sex couples segregated onto different parts of the dance floor. Some even drifted across the street to the benches.
The music was Latin-Punk Rock crossed with Caribbean disco, unrecognizable to most but totally danceable. Hours later, as had so often been the case in the past, Carlos and Miguel were down to tight black jeans, top buttons open—no shirts, no shoes. Hot and gleaming with sweat, despite the AC. Dark curls falling moistly over foreheads and sexy eyes. Thick lips promising a very good ride. They were the center of attention—particularly after it became known that they were the two heroes of the collegiate soccer finals that afternoon.
Jeff and Sean at one point went to walk on the beach, leaving their buddies to dance and sweat—and perform. It was getting a little loud—and very hot. They returned perhaps an hour later, just about ready to call it a night. They hadn’t found an empty bench and were not inclined to fuck in public anyway. Upon re-entry, they spotted Carlos—once again the center of a ring of near-naked guys, tanned and muscled, oiled and musky, closing in for the kill. Carlos was in another world, enjoying the attention, the consummate cock-tease in action, bumping his obviously hard dick toward partners and wagging his bubble toward others. Mr. Personality, candidate for public office, already searching for votes. Jeff looked around for Miguel, but didn’t find him. He waited a few minutes. Then he headed for the men’s room which was eerily empty—even the stalls had no doors. Then he checked the alley behind the club where a few couples were engaged in very public sex. No Miguel. He went back to Sean and asked. “Do you think he went back to the hotel?”
“Not likely. Not without Carlos. I’m pretty sure.”
So Sean approached the undulating ring surrounding Carlos and broke into the circle. Several guys glared at the interruption, until they realized the size of the guy butting in. “Carlos, have you seen Miguel?”
Carlos at first didn’t seem to hear. He was in the zone, probably after way too many tequila shots and beers. Then, he looked over to the back side of the floor, near the entrance to the toilets and the alley. “He was right there. He was enjoying the company of three older hunks a few minutes ago. They really seemed to be in to him.” Carlos pulled out his cell and speed-dialed. No answer. It was so unlike Miguel–whose phone was another appendage to his sultry body. He never turned it off. Then canlı casino siteleri all the guys—including Carlos who had sobered fast when he realized that Miguel was gone–did a careful search of the entire place—the booths, the alleys, even the kitchen. No Miguel. But they did find his distinctive Nikes and his W so of course, not being family, they were denied reports of condition and visitation. They all moved to the waiting room where Miguel’s Dad was already holding vigil.
He recognized the teammates and pulled them all into a group hug. He was very emotional, obviously loving his son and worrying about his future. He sobbed, “He’s going to be alright. They will likely move him out of ICU later today and release him tomorrow or the next day. I think it’s probably best if he returns to Williamsburg—but the Feds are going to enhance his security. He may not be too happy about it. But, he’s going to lose even more of his precious privacy. What have I done to my family? I can’t tell you how much Miguel talks about you all. You have become his family. And he loves you all. I am so grateful that you are in his life He’s going to need you all more than ever now.”
******
Several months later, winter was hanging on in Williamsburg. It was a mild winter, but still cold and rainy enough that the three-times per week soccer practices continued—but indoors. The school had celebrated their team’s victory—in January after Miguel had returned to campus and was well-enough to enjoy the party. Fortunately although he had roughed up, there were no breaks or strains and no permanent damage from the high dose sedative the kidnappers had administered. But his three apartment buddies had become fiercely protective. He never went anywhere without one of them; and except for class, all of them. And more than once he spotted the typical dark sedan—surveillance—across from the Wythe Street house or on campus.
Dr. Allende’s testimony had been given, and his family asylum petition had been officially finalized. He and his family (except Miguel) had been moved from San Diego to another undisclosed location. His medical license had been assured, and the family’s last name had been changed. All the properties in San Diego had been sold. He had joined a small medical practice and began again to build his reputation. So there was virtually no connection with the past—except of course for Miguel. And any communication between them was through a Fed intermediary. Miguel had even agreed that he wouldn’t visit until the Feds agreed it was safe to do so.
Miguel was in therapy from the trauma. His natural ebullience was muted, but he took out his frustrations with soccer practice—and, once in a while, on Carlos’ ass. He saw a psychologist every week. And he was enveloped in Carlos’ spoony cocoon every night, often with Carlos’ softening cock still buried inside. Guess which therapy he enjoyed more? And which one did the most good? Carlos was his new Daddy and boyfriend, all rolled into one. He thought maybe he was ready to settle down.
As the last semester of their junior year began, counselors began to schedule group and one-on-one meetings with all students. Where are you on your career path? Graduate school? A job? The theme was consistent: you’ve really only got a few months before critical life decisions will need to be made. Do you need a few more courses in your major to do well on the GREs? Or the LSATs? Or the Med Boards? Do you want to sign up for job interviews?
The Wythe Street Gang was of course involved. Of the three, only Miguel had expected to play professional athletics after W&M—and now he wasn’t slot oyunları so sure. He just didn’t see how he could avoid serious risk—his Dad had brought down two prominent cartel leaders, but the cartels were still very much in business. And professional soccer would necessarily involve notoriety which even a name change couldn’t hide. It would require a great deal of travel in Latin and South America where US official protection would be difficult. He would always be in danger—and thus he was also a risk to his family. He was a bright student, really exceptional and pre-med “just in case.” So slowly he was coming to the conclusion that he would go to med school and follow in his Dad’s footsteps— maybe specialize in sports medicine. Soccer would become an avocation.
Carlos and Miguel had started as an experiment—to spice up their sex lives. But, they had fallen hard for each other. Both were certain that they wanted to try for a long term relationship. For months now, they had been glued together (often by spunk), and they were getting along really well. Their shared backgrounds may have been a help.
Carlos still harbored a desire to enter politics. He was toying with a Masters in policy from a place like Georgetown or possibly another junior position in a Washington political office—and so Miguel began plans to apply to Georgetown Med. The Feds were going to help since DC had so many Latinos, and Miguel could fade into the general population more easily. They felt that they could watch him more effectively in Washington than almost anywhere else.
They were going to make a try at making the long term work—but both knew that they still have another year plus to prepare. After a talk, they committed to exclusivity, and decided they would cum out after the next soccer season. They celebrated the decision with a fantastic night.
It was just like old times. Jeff and Sean both had classes that night and Carlos was the DB (designated babysitter). So they were alone and started early, huddled under a warm blanket, Miguel in Carlos’ lap, chests and lips together, synchronizing hearts as Carlos cupped Miguel’s hot lively ballsand ringed the base of the shaft with thumb and forefinger. Miguel flipped a little and Carlos began to massage his cute little, but very hot, butt, fingers straying repeatedly into the gateway to Nirvana, finger-fucking as far as the nut. Miguel felt warm, safe and cherished as he necked and teased Carlos’ tits. While Carlos realized he had everything he wanted right on top of him in his lap. He was euphoric and thankful—and horny as fuck. He had a hot and ready lover ready to play. Carlos stood and lifted Miguel into a cradle-like-carry as he marched to their room.
He carefully positioned Miguel in their bed, rolled up his legs and bathed his taint and balls with warm sloppy kisses, inhaling the musky scent of his love. Miguel squirmed as his fingers moved through the beautiful curls, whispering words of endearment. (Despite being really into Carlos, Miguel had learned to modulate his loudness during sex—except of course at the end.) Then he pulled Carlos up and their lips met again as their rigid cocks rested side by side between rock hard sets of abs, oozing precum.
Carlos positioned, applied pressure and popped inside. Each time felt new. Miguel was tight and hot and responsive. Carlos shuddered in pleasure and thrust still deeper as Miguel moaned in response. Fingers moved to nipples and squeezed as the nipples engorged. Shots of nervous energy like lightning passed through both of their bodies. Carlos bottomed, leveraged in to crowd the love nut and reached behind Miguel to slot casino siteleri draw him up into a clinch. All too soon, the sap began to rise. Deep inside both felt the wave approaching the shore. It rumbled and tumbled, getting larger and more powerful with each second. They were enveloped in it, holding tightly to each other for safety, bobbing in its fury. Then there was the crash. Miguel screamed his release and shot his first between their chests, “Oh fuck. I love you Carlos. Now, fuck me hard.” They erupted almost simultaneously and melted into each other, soaking in the foamy waves of their cum. This was love. It conquered all of Miguel’s fears and glued him to his mate. He was sure they were going to make it.
******
Sean had always been the most directed of the four—perhaps out of necessity since there wasn’t much family support to be expected. He had continued his computer engineering program at W&M and was already being scouted by several high tech firms. He and Jeff had also become inseparable. After Thanksgiving, Jeff had finally convinced Sean to accept some ass play—which led to Jeff topping Sean. Sean was converted almost immediately. He loved the stimulation—particularly from a long-dicked stud like Jeff, and quickly swallowed his fear of effeminacy. Now they flipped almost every day. Sean’s ass became as cock-hungry as his dick had been asscunt-seeking. He knew he had someone special in Jeff, a serious, quiet, but incredible love-maker! That guy was deep! Really deep! (As of course, was he, on a regular basis.) Sean had found a guy with a cock nearly as long as his own—and Jeff knew how to use it, particularly with a lover.
Jeff was perhaps the most undecided about the future. He loved soccer, but knew he wasn’t pro-quality. It would only be a hobby after next year. His folks had urged him to “stay open” and take courses in various areas. They had the money, and he had the time to decide on career later—presumably after grad school. So he had no specific plans and really no particular job skills. He was the quintessential “liberal arts” grad—worthless to so many, but so valuable to themselves. Lots of potential, but few “what can you do for me now?” talents.
Then, in a really unexpected, but sad way, the decision was taken out of his hands. In May, his father had a fatal heart attack. The semester was almost over, and he had been planning to return to the ranch near San Diego for the summer. He had convinced Sean to “intern” at one of the high tech firms that had located on the north side of the city, not far from the ranch. Thus, they could spend the summer together. Jeff had not yet disclosed to his folks that he was gay and that he and Sean were together.
Jeff’s Mom was pleased that he was coming home for the summer. She still did not understand that Sean was his boyfriend. She had taken Don Bridges death very hard, and wasn’t really focusing on Jeff. They were young and had been very much in love. The ranch was lonely—26 acres northeast of San Diego at the edge of the Cleveland National Forest with a barn and paddock that currently held seven horses in addition to Jeff’s two—all tended by their owners and all paying modest boarding fees. Sandy liked having people around. But the users of the barn were just that—not relatives, not friends. There were no real neighbors. Even shopping was miles away. So she had no one to talk to. And had fallen into a grief-induced depression. Even an occasional ride into the forest didn’t help.
During the summer, she decided that she was going to move to a downtown condo—and sell the ranch. She didn’t need the money—Don had left a large insurance policy and a larger estate, and she had a terrific consultancy practice. But, she needed people around her, and she wanted the vibrancy of a downtown location. She discussed her decision with Jeff who was crestfallen. This had been his home for twenty plus years. He loved the ranch. He loved to ride.
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