Keep him on the ground

"Since you like throwing yourself down, you can stay there." you say.

Immediately, you could see his legs relax, though his face was beginning to grow angry and a bit fearful.

"I don't know who you are, but you need to go away." He said.

Ignoring him, you roll the Adonis of a player over so he was flat on his stomach. You could hear his arguing but didn't listen. Reaching for the waistband of his shorts, his arguing turned to pleas. Taking a deep breath, you pulled down the fabric. You were a bit disappointed to see underwear underneath, expecting an athletic jockstrap. The underwear looked expensive though, probably with all those fibres and whatnot to increase breathing and discourage immense sweat. You grabbed onto the underwear and looked up at Ronaldo. He was staring at you, now completely fearful.

"Please do not." he begged.

You smiled evilly at him before slowly pulling down his underwear. You were mesmerised by the slow reveal of the perfect flesh. His muscled globes were tensed, but still made your mouth water. You finally pulled the waistband under his rump and admired Ronaldo's beautiful ass. You grabbed both cheeks and massaged them, feeling the muscle clenching them together. Your massaging drifted towards his crack, before you pried them apart. Before you was the hole of Cristiano Ronaldo. The little beauty was completely devoid of hair, clenched shut in fear. The entire crack glistened from sweat. No one had ever scored here. Not yet, at least.