Game Set and Match

Game, Set and Match - 4

Previously: It all started with Patrick Rafter. Pat and I had sort of a sexual thing going, but adultery on my part ended our affair with little hope for reconciliation. I was seduced by his former teammate Mark Philippoussis and became his regular lover. And then I seduced British tennis stud Tim Henman. By now, you might think that I'm a slut. Since none of this is true, I am of course no such thing. If you enjoy tennis, but aren't comfortable with the idea of your favorite players having gay sex, you should read something else. Please send your comments to: mikec@freemail.nl

Chapter Four: Deuce

After my encounter with Tim Henman, I felt just a little bit guilty. First I had betrayed my beloved Pat by allowing myself to be seduced by Mark Philippoussis and now Mark was the victim of my hormones, which couldn't be controlled around a naked Tim. And now, with Pat and I on speaking terms again, things got even more complicated.

I had easy access to Mark's hotel room, since mine was next to him and I had a key, and so I decided to surprise him in the morning. Dressed only in a bath robe, I sneaked into his room, where Mark was still sleeping. The sheets on the bed only covered the lower half of his body, so I could get a good look at his muscular, tanned and hairless torso. This strong athlete seemed to be resting peacefully. Not resting peacefully was, yet again, my cock. It had sprung to life almost immediately at the sight of this beautiful man. By now, the bath robe was getting in the way and I removed it to give that rock between my legs all the space it needed. I kept admiring Mark's body while thinking about my next move. After a couple of minutes, I went over to the bed and sat on my knees next to it, on the side where Mark was laying. Now I only had to stretch my arm to get my hands on Mark's cock. Moving my hands under the sheet I encountered Mark's upper leg. I gently caressed it and while Mark himself didn't seem to notice my touch, his dick awoke rapidly and started to form a nice tent. My hands went further to his rather large balls and then reached their destination. The plan wasn't to jack Mark off, so I continued with my next move. My head joined my arm under the sheets and now moved in the direction of my lover's dick. I could smell his crotch. I can't really describe what it smelled like, but I'm sure many of you have smelled a cock or two, so there's really no need to go on about that. Let's just say that I liked the smell. Or rather, it drove me wild with desire.

I was very close to my trophy now and only had to stick out my tongue to touch Mark's shaft. And of course, that is exactly what I did. When I got even closer, I was able to lick the shaft from bottom to top and back. I felt Mark twitching and knew that he was probably waking up. I continued licking his dick, and when I felt a hand on my head, I knew the time had come to take his penis in my mouth. I gently sucked on his cockhead, slowly taking the cock in my mouth, inch by inch. I could hear Mark was thoroughly enjoying that. He was moaning and whispering rather sweet words to me, something which he had not done before. I continued the blow-job by sucking his cockhead harder and harder. Mark, horny as ever, didn't take that long to cum and without warning filled my mouth with his warm juice. I didn't mind though. Nothing like some athlete's juice to start the day with.

After that, we wrapped our naked bodies around each other and stayed in bed for another while, kissing and hugging each other intensely. Mark asked me to join him again in the locker room after his match, so that he could return the favor. But I had to refuse. Not because I wasn't interested, but there was still plenty of work to be done. And this was too good a job to risk losing it.

That day I also received an e-mail from Pat, informing me that he would rejoin the ATP-tour in Rome, next week. He said he wanted to talk to me and clear the air about a couple of things. This message gave me a warm feeling. Although Mark and I were having great fun together and introducing Tim Henman to gay sex was another highlight of my life, neither one of them could give me the same feeling Pat could. My mind was on Pat that day.

I would take a look at the scoreboards regularly and noticed that Mark wasn't doing very well. In the end, he even lost his match. I felt sorry for Mark and wanted to comfort him. That plus the fact that I was horny as hell by thinking about Pat all day, made me decide to pay Mark a visit in the locker room after all. One of my great colleagues gracefully accepted to cover for me and I went for the locker rooms, after making sure that I would pick the right one this time. On my way there, I stumbled on Greg Rusedski again. By now, Greg and I had regular conversations and he even got me this job. So when he spoke to me, I couldn't be rude and leave him standing there. I like Greg a lot, but his timing was amazingly bad. After some small talk I did manage to get away from him, and hoping I wasn't too late I continued on my way to Mark's locker room.

Once there, I checked again to make absolutely sure this was the correct room and then went in. The door was locked. Mark wouldn't be expecting me and probably wanted to take a quiet shower. But, although I never was a boy scout, I was prepared and had taken a key with me. When I opened the door, I was in for a surprise. It was Mark's locker room, but he wasn't in there alone. In fact, what I saw was my naked lover receiving a blow-job by, judging by his uniform, one of the older ballboys.

The two noticed me immediately and stopped their actions. I went in and closed the door to make sure this stayed a private affair. Mark didn't seem bothered by my presence at all, but the ballboy looked scared. The German boy was probably 17 or 18 years old and had, oh stereotype, blond hair and blue eyes. He was stunningly attractive, as I'm sure Mark had noticed as well. Knowing Mark, he had probably seduced this boy into giving him a blow-job. My Australian friend was welcoming me in and actually seemed pleased to see me. The ballboy had different feelings about my presence and tried to leave the room. He was stopped by Mark, who started to explain the situation. Mark introduced me as his casual lover, who had no trouble at all seeing Mark with someone else. I wouldn't tell anyone and wouldn't be mad at the boy, claimed Mark. At that point I knew where I stood with Mark. He just wanted someone to provide him with regular sex and if I wasn't available, he would just turn to someone else. That's really not how I saw it. Not that I had wedding plans or thought we were in an exclusive relationship (after all, I'd had Tim the day before), but this affair was just a bit too casual for me. Sure, the sex was great, but after a while that just isn't enough anymore.

Deciding to break up with Mark was the result of this situation, but there was still the question of me being horny as hell. Just one for the road, I said to myself, and decided to have a piece of the action. When Mark noticed that, he smiled at me.

'You know, Hans here has never sucked a cock before and his technique is a bit primitive. Perhaps you should show him how it's done', said Mark.

The boy, still somewhat uneasy but increasingly more comfortable with the situation, was still fully clothed in a tight uniform. Too tight for that obviously hard cock of him. The attractive youngster became the object of my desire and I went over to him. Once near enough I put my hands on his ass and pulled him to me. Hans had now overcome his nerve and started to really go with the flow. I felt his hands all over my body. His mouth searched for mine and when it finally found it, I let his tongue enter and gave him a kiss. This boy was eager and I decided not to make him wait much longer. After the kiss, I sat on my knees, pulled his shorts down and took his cock in my mouth to demonstrate how a proper blow-job should be given. I gently sucked on his balls and cockhead, licked the shaft all the way down and then took his penis all the way in. Hans, experiencing his first sexual act with another man, was enjoying the sucking enormously. He warned me he would cum very soon, but I didn't stop and went on until I could fill his warm cum filling my mouth.

All this time, Mark had been watching while stroking his cock. After Hans had cum, Mark signaled the boy to come over to him and finish the job he had started. The boy got on his knees without hesitation and eagerly continued sucking Mark's dick. I took off all my clothes, ready to finally scratch the itch that had been bothering me all day. While Mark and Hans seemed both to be enjoying the experience I went over to them, stood behind the Australian stud and slowly pushed my dick in his ass. Mark screamed out with pleasure when I entered him. I placed my hands on his chest and started stroking his nipples while starting to fuck him. I saw Hans looking up and smiling at me with Mark's cock in his mouth. Mark was the first to cum. He filled the ballboy's mouth with his hot juice. Too much to handle for the boy, who had to take the cock out of his mouth while Mark was still cumming. My Australian lover was cumming all over the boy's uniform now and the sight of that made me explode myself. I shot my cum in Mark's guts. Load after load was coming out of my penis. I linked the great quantity of this ejaculation to the thoughts of Pat I had been having all week.

Anyway, this was the end of my time with Mark. I decided to put on my clothes and leave quietly. The two other ones didn't seem to get enough of it. Hans was now taking his cum-stained clothes off and licked off some of the cum that had landed on his arms and Mark's legs. I myself was satisfied for now and knew my colleague wouldn't cover for me much longer. As I left the room I saw the ballboy was fucking Mark's ass. Well, if only my first fuck buddy would have been an athlete like that. Hans seemed very happy and a welcoming addition to the gay family.

Later that day, I spoke to Mark before he left Hamburg and told him about my decision to end our meaningless affair. Mark wasn't very disappointed and probably thought of a big sea with plenty of other fish. And of course, why shouldn't he ? A guy like him would probably never have a problem finding someone to suck on his dick or to open his asshole for some Australian meat.

Chapter Five: New Balls

If you've never been there, let me tell you Rome is a beautiful city. Wonderful palaces, the magnificent Trevi-fountain, the glorious Colloseum and other Roman remains, the Vatican (nice, but not very gay-friendly) and a great ATP-tournament where the top players go to prepare for the French Open, one week later.

I had left Hamburg as a free agent. After the break-up with Mark, I did enjoy a very nice night with Hans the ballboy. He had looked me up the day after our first meeting and one thing led to another. Since this is about me and the tennis stars, I won't bore you with details of that night. Some things have to remain private. Let's just say that Hans was a very fast learner when it comes to giving a blow-job or fucking another guy's ass. And I learned him some more 'tricks of the trade'.

I was really looking forward to the Rome-tournament, but I was also extremely nervous. This would be the first time I would see Patrick Rafter again after the argument we had when he found out I'd had sex with Mark. We had re-established more or less friendly relations through e-mail, but being away from him made me realize that I felt something more for Pat. At first, I was drawn to him because he's a wonderful athlete with a perfect body, but the same could be said of Mark Philippoussis and Tim Henman. Yet neither one of them could make me feel the way Pat did. Pat was special and I wanted him for more than sex. I knew Pat had several gay lovers before me, but he was still very much in the closet and never had a long-term relationship with another man before. So I didn't have much hope.

My expectations turned out to be right. On the first day of the tournament, I spoke to him. It was a very pleasant conversation, but I didn't sense any interest on Pat's behalf of continuing where we had left off. The sight of him made me want him even more than ever. I wanted to run my fingers through his long hair, which had grown even longer since I last saw him. I wanted to kiss the Rafter-smile, eat his muscular torso, lick his strong legs and feel his cock inside me. But it was quite clear this was not going to happen. I had to be content with talking to him and enjoying his charming and witty personality. Not bad at all, of course. But still... I didn't even get the chance to enjoy that for a long time. Pat lost in the first round and left Rome shortly after his defeat. We wouldn't see each other until the start of the French Open in Paris.

So what's the point of this chapter then ?, I can hear some of you think. You're all waiting for the action, of course. I'm just telling you all this to give you an idea of the state I was in. With no hope left that Pat and I would be together, I decided to keep enjoying the presence of those hot tennis jocks. Remembering how easy it was to seduce Tim Henman, I might as well try one of the others. Got your attention now, haven't I ? But the choice wasn't easy. There were plenty of good-looking guys, but I didn't know which of them would be open for what I had in mind. Thank God, faith chose for me

I was doing my usual job in Rome: making sure the journalists got what they wanted and at the same time saving some peace and quiet for the players. Not always easy, but I had managed so far. By now, I had talked to most of the top players and some of them even knew my name and had a chat with me, occasionally. I had even joined some of them for a drink, since I had easy access to the player's accommodations. But lately, I had taken a bit too much advantage of that. Colleagues had to cover for me regularly, so that I could hang out with some players or even have sex with them, which had been the case with Mark Philippoussis and Tim Henman. That hadn't gone unnoticed and my boss was keeping a firm eye on me. Thus, Rome wasn't very exciting for me. I had very little opportunity to have fun. But when one of those tennis studs smiled at me and asked me to have a drink with him, I could never refuse and the inevitable happened. My boss caught me once again and fired me on the spot. Luckily for me, some of the players, who actually thought I was doing a good job, stood up for me and that saved my ass. I was given ONE last chance.

Being on my best behavior, doesn't do my personality much good. As the boring days went on and on, I increasingly started to annoy people: my colleagues, journalists and even some of the players, who realized what was going on and decided to rescue me. The initiative came from Greg Rusedski, probably my closest friend on the Tour by now, who gathered some other players, namely Alex Corretja, Jonas Bjorkman and Gustavo Kuerten. The handsome foursome tried to convince me to have a drink with them and loosen up, but I wouldn't give in. I knew that if my boss caught me, there would be no hope left for me. In the end, they kidnapped me. They grabbed me and dragged me into the bar of Rome's tennis stadium. They had paid one of my colleagues to make sure my presence wouldn't be missed. Very nervous at first, I slowly started to defrost and forget about my boss. One drink led to another and before we knew it an hour had passed. Even the players realized that I couldn't stay in the bar much longer and they let me go back to work.

I was almost running through the corridors to get back to my desk, when I heard a familiar voice around the corner coming towards me. It was my boss ! I started to panic. If he saw me, I would lose my job, something which I really didn't want to happen. But there was no way out. My boss was very close now and he would have seen me if I didn't suddenly notice a door on the right. In a desperate attempt I went to the door. Thank God, it was open. I went in, not caring about what was behind that door. I had missed my boss only by a few seconds. I could here him passing the door and when his voice faded away, I left the room and went back to my desk. At least, that was the plan. Just as I was about to leave the room, I heard a voice saying:

'I'm ready for my massage now.'

That was the first time I realized there was someone else in the room. I turned around and what I saw was something I couldn't have imagined in my wildest dreams. A naked man was lying on his stomach on a table. Judging by his body, this guy was definitely an athlete. I couldn't see who it was, since he was facing the other side, but I didn't care. I had noticed English was not his mother tongue, when he said he was ready for his massage. Then I realized what was happening. The naked player was waiting for his massage and probably thought I was the masseur.

I needed to make a quick decision here. My massage capabilities were very limited, but on the other hand it was a perfect opportunity to run my hands all over the body of that player without creating too much suspicion. My brains were telling me to go back to work, before my boss would find out I wasn't there, but my cock, awoken by the sight of the naked stud, had different plans. In the end, the brains lost and I went over to the table.

'Just the standard massage ?', I asked. I had no idea what that was or even if that was a question a masseur would ask, but it sounded logical at the time.

'Sure', said the mysterious player.

I took the bottle of oil, which was standing next to the table, and put some of the oil on the back of the player. I started rubbing it in very gently. It took a while for me to realize that I probably wasn't doing it properly. I was stroking the player, caressing him lovingly instead of giving him the rough massage he needed. But the player didn't complain and I could even hear him moan very softly. He was enjoying my touch. He was now lying with his face down, so I still couldn't make out who he was. My curiosity got the better of me. His clothes were on a chair and they would probably give me a clue about his identity.

'Lay still, while the enzymes of the product activate themselves', I said, still not knowing what the hell I was talking about.

I went over to the chair. The player didn't move, probably worried about what the enzymes could do to him if he moved an inch. Of course, the last thing he had pulled off was lying on top: his underwear. I took the briefs in my hands and looked for initials or something else. Nothing. And then I smelled them. Not that I thought the smell might tell me who it was, but I couldn't resist it. The scent of an athlete's crotch always did it for me. Just as I thought my cock couldn't get any harder, it did. I automatically started to rub my penis through my pants, forgetting there was still someone there with me. Not for long, though. After examining his briefs, his sweat-soaked shirt was up next. Again, I couldn't resist a smell, but it wasn't as exciting as smelling his underwear, so that didn't take very long. But still I had found nothing that could lead me to the identity of the naked stud. Shorts, socks and shoes didn't reveal anything either.

I turned around to continue the massage, but I was in for a shock. As I turned I could see the player didn't do like he was told. He was sitting up straight, watching me. Well, the mystery was solved: the object of my desire was Spanish jock Carlos Moya. At first, I thought I was lucky. Moya definitely was one of the more attractive players on the Tour. But then I got really nervous. Not everyone would like a masseur smelling his underwear, I guessed. I was wrong. Moya didn't seem mad at all. In fact, he didn't even try to cover the hard on he had.

'You're the p.r. guy, aren't you ?', said Moya.

'That's right', I answered. 'I'm sure you didn't know p.r. was such a divers profession.' With that, I went over to him, confident that I was safe. I had felt his desire while I was massaging him, and his cock certainly told me he wanted me.

Once close enough, I put my hands on his legs. He opened them and pulled me closer. Once my body was pressed against his, he locked his legs behind my ass, so there was no way out. Even if I had wanted it. I ran my hands up his legs, then his back and finally took his head in my hands and pulled it towards me. He opened his mouth and welcomed my tongue in. Feeling his hot tongue against mine, made me even hornier. It was time for me to get out of my clothes. But Moya was way ahead of me and started undoing my shirt, before I had the chance of doing it myself. Now sure that I was very interested in having sex with him, he unlocked his legs behind me, which enabled me to take off everything. Finally I was naked too. I pushed him back on the table and lay myself on top of him. We kissed again, while rubbing our crotches together. Our hands were all over each other. We didn't speak and only let out grunts and moans, letting each other know how much we wanted this. After a while like this, I stood up from the table and started to lick his naked body. I licked his neck, sucked on his erect nipples and went down further to his stomach and his crotch. I licked the shaft of his cock before continuing my path. I licked his legs, knees, ankles, feet and several of his toes. There wasn't a part of his body that I had missed.

I climbed back on the table, but this time the other way around. I was facing his feet. Sitting on all fours made it possible for me to suck on his dick, while he could do the same for me. It didn't take long for him to work that out and I immediately felt his mouth on my cock, even before I was in position. Moya was very eager and started to suck my dick like a true professional. I was surprised that yet another top player turned out to be an experienced cock sucker. While he was giving me a blow-job I started to lick his balls, taking them in my mouth one for one. Then I focused on the cock itself. As soon as I touched his penis with my tongue, Moya started to suck real hard on my own dick. What a nice way of letting someone know you're enjoying that. I continued licking his shaft and cockhead and then tried to take as much of his cock in. Our 69-position proved to be very satisfying. I was the first to come. I warned Moya I was about to blow, but he kept sucking it hard and I shot my load in his hot mouth. He still kept sucking, trying to get the last drop out as well. And when that was the case, his cock exploded in my mouth. I too swallowed his juice and milked his dick until it was empty.

We collapsed on top of each other and just lay there for a while, enjoying each other's presence, still not saying a word. Suddenly I felt Moya's cock springing to life again. Mine reacted promptly. This time, Moya left the table and positioned me so my ass was at the edge of the table. He took my legs and pulled them up, exposing my ass. Using the massage oil as a lubricant, Moya entered my ass with his rock hard dick. He started to fuck me harder and harder, while I started to jack off. Again the Spaniard was the first to come and filled my guts with his hot cum. I was reaching orgasm too, when Moya took my cock in his mouth again. That drove me over the edge and his mouth was filled with my juice for the second time in just a dozen of minutes.

Still not speaking, Moya kissed me once more and then put on his clothes and left the room. I couldn't believe what had happened. It all happened very quickly, but I was never going to forget that moment. But then, panic struck again. I had to go back to work. I put on my clothes, left the room and ran through the corridors. When I got back, there was a note on my desk, signed by my boss. It only said: 'You're fired !'

Previously: As a p.r. assistant on the ATP-tour I had contact with many tennis players. After having sex with Patrick Rafter, Mark Philippoussis, Tim Henman and Carlos Moya, my boss decided to end my fun by sacking me. This is the final chapter of this series, but I am already considering a sequel. Anyway, I'd like to thank everyone who wrote to me with suggestions. Comments are still greatly appreciated at: mikec@freemail.nl. Just one last time for the record: what you're about to read is fiction. Unfortunately ! I hope all of the talented erotic fiction writers out there will create more stories involving tennis.

Chapter Six: The Final Match

Rome had not been kind to me. Sure, I had sex with a tennis god like Carlos Moya, but losing my job was the worst thing that could have happened to me. I couldn't stand not being in the presence of those hunky tennis players anymore. However, my boss had no mercy and the only thing left for me to do was to leave the ATP-tour and return to Belgium. Not much to look forward to.

Back in Belgium, I couldn't get my mind off those players and one man in particular dominated my thoughts. It drove me crazy and I knew I had to go see him one more time. He had left Rome before I was sacked and thus I hadn't had the chance to say good-bye to him. After a few days I made a decision, packed my bags again and went to Paris to try and meet Patrick Rafter at the French Open.

Since I had gotten close to some players, in some cases closer than I ever hoped for, it wasn't hard for me to get tickets to the tournament. I booked into a cheap bed & breakfast and went to the courts to see Pat's first match, against Canadian Sebastien Lareau. Pat was struggling again, like he has been the whole year, and barely beat the Canadian. During the match I experienced feelings of love again for this man. I didn't want to have sex with him like I wanted it with Philippoussis, Henman, Moya or other players that I fancied. I actually realized that I wanted to make love to him. Sure, I still became horny when seeing him play, moving his athletic body around the courts, revealing his naked torso when changing shirts, but it was more than that. I admired him as a person, as a charming, witty and sensitive man, not just as the sex-symbol he was for so many people. And of course I wanted to feel his naked body pressed against mine, his cock inside me, his lips on my own penis. But I also wanted a warm embrace, a nice dinner with him, a conversation about how his day was. I wanted to be in the audience, cheering him on at every match he played. Thoughts like that had dominated my mind increasingly the last few weeks, ever since we first met in Antwerp, since we first touched each other, since we first had sex.

Despite these strong feelings, I remained realistic. Pat had been attracted to me and he had enjoyed my company, but that was all history now. I convinced myself Pat was no longer interested in me, certainly not as a lover. But the thoughts kept raging through my head and there was nothing I could do to stop them. I had no choice, I had to confront Pat with my feelings. That was the only way to find some peace of mind. I would wait until after the French Open, not wanting to disturb him. I knew how important the big tournaments are for him.

And then Pat lost his second round match against fellow-Australian Jason Stoltenberg. It wasn't really a surprise, considering the recent results. It was time to go see him and to tell him how I felt. It was time to find out once and for all how he felt about me.

I had found out where he stayed and using an old ATP-identification badge I had no trouble at all getting past the lobby of the hotel and going up to Pat's room. My knees trembling, I knocked on his door, not sure about how he would react to my presence. It seemed like hours before he opened the door. In fact, it was. I knocked again, this time harder. I could hear movement in the room and for a moment I thought Pat was with someone else and wouldn't open the door. I was ready to leave, admitting defeat and never returning, when I heard his sweet voice asking:

'Who's there ?'

'It's me, Mike. I came over to talk to you, but I'll go if you're busy', I answered.

He unlocked the door and opened it. Now I could see what was happening in there. Pat was apparently having a bath or shower. He was dripping and had quickly put on some undies to open the door. He let me in and said:

'Just a moment, I'll just go and look for my bathrobe.'

He didn't have to, of course. I was quite happy seeing him only in his blue Calvin Kleins, but I was lucky enough to get in his room.

After a few seconds he came out of the bathroom, wearing a short, white bathrobe and drying his long hair with a towel.

'I saw your match today. I'm sorry you lost.', I tried to start a conversation.

'Yeah, so am I. I really wanted to do well here, but it's just not working out this year. Anyway, I'm trying to forget all that. I have to stay positive, you know. So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about ?'

'Well, I don't know if you've heard, but I was sacked in Rome and I didn't want to leave the circuit without saying good-bye to you first.'

'I did hear about that. I looked for you a couple of days ago but I couldn't find you and one of your colleagues told me the story.'

My hopes rose when I heard Pat say he was looking for me.

'Why were you looking for me ?', I asked him.

'Just wanted to have a chat. We used to get on well, don't you think ? The tour is lonely enough as it is.'

'I know. We did get on well, didn't we ?' I paused for a few seconds and then continued. 'That's why I wanted to say good-bye to you in person.'

He smiled at me. That pushed me over the edge. I never could resist the Rafter-smile and this time was no exception. I knew I would never find the right words to tell him how I felt, I knew there was only one language in which I truly could express my emotion. I went over to him, making eye-contact, letting him know what my intentions were. He still smiled, he wasn't about to say no. I placed my lips on his and started stroking his back. He immediately responded to my kiss, letting my tongue enter his warm mouth. How I waited for this moment. This was heaven. I would trade in fucking Tim Henman, Mark Philippoussis and Carlos Moya anytime, for a kiss from Pat.

Passion grew as we started eating each other's face. His hands were all over me and mine were struggling to remove the bathrobe. I exposed his chest, hard and smooth with just a trail of hair between his pecs and started kissing every square inch of it. His nipples were mine too. I sucked them, gently at first, but there was no stopping me. I had never experienced such passion for anyone. I pulled off the bathrobe and Pat was naked now except for his blue Calvin Klein shorts. His cock was already as hard as rock, forming a huge bulge in his underwear. I sat on my knees and he just pushed his crotch in my face. I licked his cock like mad, as if there was no fabric at all between my wanting mouth and his throbbing organ. I wanted to rip the cloth and suck him hard, but Pat pulled his crotch out of my face and moved to the floor as well. He pushed me down on my back and climbed on top of me. Again we kissed. I don't know for how long, but it seemed forever and still too short.

He undid my shirt, button for button and kissed every part of my chest that he exposed. His hands were squeezing my own hard cock through my jeans. I was impatient and wanted him inside me as soon as possible. But Pat proved he was a perfect lover by postponing the climax and increasing the pleasure. He sat up straight now and started to unzip my fly. His hands moved under the waistband of my own boxershorts and finally I felt his strong hands on my cock, which almost made me cum on the spot. Slowly he pulled my jeans and shorts off and then did the same to my socks. I was completely naked with a hard cock sticking out.

Pat was now ready for some serious action and started kissing my crotch. He licked my balls and took them in his hot mouth. Then I felt his lips on my cockhead. He kissed it and then his tongue went further down the shaft. He sucked my cock with great intensity, giving me the best blow job in the history of mankind. If ever cocksucking would become a sport, he would never lose a match. Just as my orgasm was near he removed his tongue from my cock, determined to making this last as long as possible.

He stood up and helped me on my feet. A passionate embrace and lots of kisses later we were in his bedroom. He pushed me down on the bed and after I removed the last piece of cloth that he was still wearing, those blue Calvin Kleins, he joined me. I started to move around until my head was at his feet. I remembered how Pat had gone crazy the first time I sucked his toes and worshipped his feet with my tongue and wanted to see if I could recreate this effect. It worked. The soft moans that Pat had let out until now, became passionate cries, as if his feet were his genitals. But the object of my desire were not his feet, nor his strong legs, hard chest and not even his perfect face with that devastating smile. My mouth wanted his cock and I moved in a position to 69 each other.

I almost passed out with desire when I felt his tongue on my cock again. I myself worked on every inch of his cock, sucking it hard, longing for his juice to fill my mouth. But I was first to cum. Pat knew that and started sucking me even harder. Never in my life have I ever unloaded that much cum. Even an experienced, cum-loving guy like Pat couldn't believe how much I shot in his mouth. He had to take my cock out of his mouth, not able to cope with all the juice. My cum landed on his face and chest and seeing me cum all over the place pushed him over the edge. Cum gushed out of his cock. I too experienced difficulties to take it all in and I had to release his dick from my full mouth. And when every drop was out, I just had the energy to move around so we were facing each other again and then collapsed on top of him, both our bodies soaked with each other's love juice.

It took us about fifteen minutes to regain any form of consciousness. All the time we just lay there, enjoying each other's touch, not speaking a single word. There was no need to say anything, our actions had said enough. Finally Pat spoke:

'You know, I was pretty hurt when I found out you had been messing around with Mark. But I guess it made me realize how I feel about you.'

'Oh Pat, I can't tell you how much I regret giving into temptation like that.' Well, that was a small lie, but it seemed appropriate at the time.

'We've made such a mess', said Pat. 'We'd better clean ourselves up'

It was true. We were both covered in each other's sticky juice. Kissing Pat made me taste my own cum. Pat stood up and left the bedroom, allowing me another good look at that perfectly shaped, tight-assed body of his. He was running the bath and he invited me to join him. We washed each other tenderly and it wasn't long before we were both hard again. After sharing a hot bath, we dried each other off and returned to the love scene for some more action.

We were just so horny that fore-play was short this time. Pat took my legs and lifted them upwards, exposing my ass-hole to his throbbing cock. Without further ado he pushed his way in. When the full length of his penis was inside me, he started thrusting, pulling his cock almost all the way out and then ramming it all in again. We were both screaming like wild animals. The loudest scream announced Pat's cumming. Again he shot load after load, this time in my ass. Where it was all coming from, remains a mystery. A couple of minutes I was shooting waves of cum myself. Pat was on all fours as I was fucking that tight ass of his.

We spent that whole night in each other's arms, never letting go. We spent most of the day after like that as well. And whenever one of us got hard, the other would go down on him. We sucked and fucked for hours only stopping to sleep, eat and clean ourselves up occasionally. Those were the best 24 hours of my life. We seemed to be glued together. But it was more that that. We were in love. And although we didn't say it, we let each other know by the way we worshipped each other. There was no doubt about it.

It was the start of a relationship that is still lasting. And even though temptation has been high at times, especially when I'm wondering down the corridors of the player's locker rooms and I get a glimpse of my favorite athletes, I have stayed faithful this time.

If you look real good, you will be able to see me in the audience at Wimbledon, cheering Pat on, hoping he will regain the form of last year. Well, I'm certainly keeping him in very good condition.

THE END