Game, Set and Match - The Final Story
For the record, I would like to state again that this is a work of fiction that shouldn't be read by people who are offended by or not allowed to read about gay sex. Furthermore, I would like to thank all the people who sent me their comments, suggestions, appreciations. They're still welcome at: mikec@freemail.nl (please use that address). A special thanks goes out to Damien Keogh who inspired me to write part of this story.
Previously: Some jerk, called 'The Edge', has made it his business of harassing me with dirty e-mails. As I try to find out who this guy really is, I stumble upon an old friend: Mark Philippoussis. Together with him and gorgeous young American Jan-Michael Gambill I share a night of passion. Still no closer to the truth, but several orgasms later, I return to my true love: Patrick Rafter.
Part Three: The One With The Car Keys
The next couple of days, I didn't say much to Pat. I was overcome with guilt, and though Mark, Jan-Michael and I had promised never to talk about what happened that night, I was absolutely terrified Pat would find out. I knew he would never forgive me. The Edge kept filling my mailbox with his sleazy messages and I tried to ignore them. But Pat sensed something was wrong and when we were sharing a bath about a week later he asked what was bothering me. At first, I tried to act surprised and innocent, but Pat kept insisting that I was preoccupied and that I should talk to him about it. I lay myself in his naked arms, snuggled up to him and confessed. Not everything, of course. I was very selective.
"I've been getting these weird e-mails", I started.
"What kind of e-mails ?"
"They're from this guy, who wants to have sex with me. I tried to ignore them at first, but the messages keep getting more explicit every time and I'm receiving one every day."
"I see", Pat said with an 'is-that-all?'-tone. "Just delete them. It's probably some adolescent, frustrated kid."
"I don't think so, Pat. This guy knows me, he knows certain things about me, details about my sex life and about what my cock looks like. It's really spooky."
"Must be someone you once had sex with", Pat stated the obvious.
"Well, that doesn't exactly narrow it down. He does know a lot about the world of tennis, so that limits the possibilities."
"Really ?", Pat asked. "So, who do you think it is ?"
"I thought it was Mark at first, so I went to see him one night. But he didn't do it."
"So, that's where you were off to. I wondered where you were. I can see why you think it would be Mark. He would be capable of such a thing. Are you sure it isn't him ?"
"Yes, because I received a mail, which was sent when I was with Mark. So he couldn't have done it."
"I guess so", Pat started to lose interest. He had started to stroke my cock, which had immediately responded by getting hard. It were moments like this I enjoyed most with Pat. Those tender moments in bath, where we worshipped each other's body with love. Pat started kissing my ear and then whispered:
"What made you think it was Mark, anyway ?"
"Well, the author calls himself The Edge and..."
"Those aren't Mark's initials", Pat softly whispered in my ear as he started to jack me off under water.
But I hardly noticed what Pat was doing to my cock, I was completely focused on what he had just said. My Belgian accent had made Pat misunderstand what I said. He thought I said 'TH' instead of 'The Edge'. Pat continued to jack me off faster and faster. I started moaning and suddenly it came to me: Tommy Haas. It had to be him ! After the other night, when we had sex together after that poker game, Tommy had promised me we'd see each other again. And he certainly knew a lot of details about me. Just as I was reaching my climax, I interrupted Pat and stood up. I stepped out of the bath, turned back to Pat, kissed him on the mouth and said:
"You're brilliant, Pat. I'll put a stop to it right now."
I left the bath room, rapidly put on some clothes and shouted:
"I'll talk to you tonight. Bye."
Poor Pat never knew what hit him.
I had a hard time tracking Tommy Haas down. First, I had to find out where he was staying and when I finally located his hotel, he wasn't there. The hotel receptionist said he was having lunch in a restaurant nearby, but when I got there Tommy had already left. I went back to the hotel and there they told me he was at the local gym to work out. And when I finally made it to the gym, it looked as if I had just missed him again. A staff member told me he had just left the building, but maybe I could still catch him outside. With that, I ran out to the parking to look for him. I couldn't see him, but I heard a car starting. I ran to the car and practically threw myself in front of it. Yes, I was very determined again. I was sure I had found my e-stalker and was eager to give him a piece of my mind. And luckily the driver of the car I had just stopped was Tommy Haas. At last we met. Again.
Tommy smiled at me and opened the door of the car:
"Hi, Mike. What are you doing here ? Are you looking for me ?"
This was the moment where I should have told him everything, but I couldn't. I was completely out of breath after running around like that.
"Looks like you've had your own work-out", Tommy grinned. "Come in and step into the car. We can talk on the way back to my hotel."
Still speechless I did exactly what Tommy suggested. But having a row in a car usually isn't such a good idea, so I decided to postpone the unpleasant confrontation until we were standing still. You see, I do have a brain. Unfortunately it's usually controlled by another organ. My silence gave Tommy every opportunity to chat away. It got interesting when he started talking about our one-nightstand:
"I'm actually glad to see you again, since we never had a chance to end what we started that night after the poker match."
"There's nothing to end", I said. "Nothing was ever started, it was just an incident between two drunk people."
"I beg to differ", Tommy spoke again. "You know damn well you weren't drunk and I'm sure you remember how close we were to taking our affair to the next step."
I did remember what happened that night. I remembered how I found him a very good cocksucker, I remembered how much difficulties I had with sucking his huge cock and I remembered very well that I wanted to fuck him and have him fuck me and that he was the one who ended it, before it came to that. He had every right to think that there would be a sequel, since I was the one who insisted on it at the time. Still, there was no reason for the continuous stream of messages and that was what I wanted to talk to him about.
"Look, Tommy. Can you stop the car for a few minutes, so that we can talk about this ?", I asked him.
"Sure", he said. He got off the main road to the hotel and drove around in his rented Mercedes until he saw a small road leading up to a wood. When we were at the edge of the wood, Tommy stopped the car and got out. I followed his example, not sure what his plans were.
"Let's go for a walk", he said. "It looks nice and quiet around here."
I never realised Tommy was so in touch with nature, but I couldn't really object to his proposal, so I followed him into the wood, where there was a path. We strolled along the path as I told him the whole story about 'The Edge' and his sleazy e-mails.
"And now you think I'm the sender ?", Tommy acted surprised.
"Well, aren't you ?"
"Hey, you're the one who was after my ass, remember ? I have been waiting for a message from you, since you were the one who wanted to take things further."
That made sense, I suppose. But surely, I couldn't be wrong again ? Just as I was thinking about the possibility of that, Tommy drifted off. The path had led us to a lake and the German tennis star was walking towards it.
"You know, it's pretty hot here. I think I'll go for a swim. Wanna join me ?"
I didn't. I wanted to go back to the car and think about my mistake. With every second I became more convinced that Tommy and The Edge weren't the same person. Not very relieving, because I still faced the mystery of the secret identity of my stalker. Young Tommy Haas, however, wasn't about to change his plans on my account and was already starting to undress himself. This was a situation I had to avoid. I knew that about myself, so I told Tommy I was going to leave him there.
"What with ?", Tommy said. He took the car keys out of his pocket and said: "I'm taking these with me".
There was no where I could go to and there was no point in arguing with him. I just had to sit it out and pray that nothing would happen. But, of course, seeing Tommy undress in front of me caused more than one stir in my pants. That chest, those legs and especially those broad shoulders I had fallen for the last time we saw each other, had that same effect on me again. And if that wasn't bad enough, Tommy had decided to swim in the nude and when the last piece of clothing went off, he proudly stood in front of me, completely naked with a huge, limp cock dangling between two strong legs and covering two large and firm balls. Luckily I wasn't forced to watch this sight for a long time, since Tommy jumped in the lake, with his car keys as promised, and started swimming. I knew full well that there is no way I would have held everything under control if Tommy would have flashed his cock at me for much longer. And I just hoped I had made it clear enough to Tommy that I wasn't interested in any sexual relationship with him. And that he would respect that. Well, you can imagine he didn't.
There was nowhere for me to go and Tommy kept insisting to join him in the water. After refusing a couple of times at first, I figured 'What the hell ?', got undressed and jumped in the lake for a good, refreshing swim. I made sure there was plenty of distance between our two naked bodies. No touching was to take place. But I knew any resistance would be futile and we both knew sex was inevitable. We both wanted it, the circumstances were right and the fact that I was with Pat never stopped me before, so why should it stop me now. I hoped nothing would happen, but I knew better than that.
As soon as we got out of the water, the action began. Just as I had expected, Tommy wasn't able to keep his hands to himself and I wasn't able to resist him. His huge cock had grown in the lake to its full size, in anticipation of what was to come, and as soon as I saw that, my own cock started to stiffen. Before it was completely hard, Tommy already had his hands on it, stroking it, looking me in the eyes and whispered:
"Where did we leave of ? I believe the last time we were in this position you wanted to fuck me."
With my hands on his amazingly broad shoulders, I pulled his head close to mine and planted a kiss on his lips. His tongue entered my mouth to explore every single spot of it. Our tongues wrapped together in an endless kiss. He pushed his body against mine, his cock poking in my stomach, his hands resting on my arse. We didn't waste too much time on formalities, there was no time for ongoing sex, no time for fore-play, we both had our agendas. Mine was to fuck him in the arse. I already knew he was a good cock-sucker, but I wanted to find out how good he could handle my cock up his arse. A tree was drawn into our love-making as Tommy hugged the tree, spreading his arms and legs around, pushing his huge organ against it. The tree was probably envied by the whole wood, but the object of Tommy's action wasn't to make the tree's day, but to expose his arse-hole for me to fuck.
I stood behind him and positioned my cock in front of his arse. Clamped to the tree, Tommy was waiting for me to push myself in. I gently did just that and when my cock was completely inside him, I hugged the tree as well. If only some people, after deciding to go for a quiet walk in the woods, could see us now: two young men hugging a tree, one with his cock inside the other one's arse. I'm sure they would think they were hallucinating. Even when I'm writing this, I still can't believe we actually managed to do that, but I truly fucked Tommy Haas against that tree.
Having his butt fucked, seemed to cause Tommy great pleasure. Moans turned into loud cries as I pumped my cock harder and harder in and out of his arse. There wasn't a human being in miles around us and so there was no reason to hold back. We were at it like animals. My balls slapped hard against his backside as I did my best to absolutely tear his arse to pieces.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhh", I cried out as I shot load after load of warm, thick cum into Tommy's body. I was still cumming when I pulled my cock out and my juices landed on Tommy's back and on the tree that would have certainly enjoyed feeling that huge German cock rubbing against it.
I started licking Haas' back and then slowly turned him around. His hard cock slapped against my face and I opened my mouth to take the head in. I started sucking on it gently and then licked the shaft. I tried to cover every inch of it with a layer of saliva, the only lubricant we had and thus the only way this huge cock would ever fit my arse. As I licked his whole throbbing organ, I almost made Tommy cum. He had to stop me and when he did I realised that it was time for me to be fucked by the biggest cock I've ever had inside me.
The cock was now fully lubed, But I knew it would still be a painful operation. I will spare you the full details of the pain Tommy Haas caused me when he pushed his way in. Even though he was extremely gentle, it still felt as if he was ripping my arse to pieces. For days to come I felt uneasy, faking headaches whenever Pat wanted to fuck me. If he did, he would have known that something big had recently been inside my arse and he would have easily put two and two together to realise that I had been unfaithful.
Anyway, I never really enjoyed being fucked by Tommy Haas. Even after my arse had adapted to the enormous throbbing organ that had penetrated it, I still didn't feel very comfortable. I was relieved that Tommy didn't take too long to cum. He pulled his cock out and shot his load all over me.
After a quick dive in the lake to clean ourselves up, we got dressed and went back to the car without speaking a word. We both knew that we should have left it at that one-nightstand after the poker match, that this had been a mistake. For me, the experience had ruined the lust I had felt for him since the day I first saw him.
Suddenly Tommy shouted: "Shit !"
"What's up ?", I asked.
"I can't find the keys to the car."
"Well, where did you last have them."
"When we were swimming naked in the lake."
"Great ! So, you're telling me the keys to the car are now on the bottom of that lake", I stated the obvious.
It only made the anti-climax bigger. We had to walk for ages before we came to a house where we could call a taxi. In fact, we called two and both went our separate way.
For the first time in my life, I hadn't really enjoyed having sex with another man, even though he was gorgeous tennis star Tommy Haas. Pure animal lust had always been enough for me, but the complete absence of love now had proven a major turn-off. I was changing. What I longed for now were the strong arms of Pat around me, the laughs we shared together and the passionate, gentle way of making love to each other. Were my days as a slut over ?
Part Four: The One With The Blue Sock
Again, the solution to the mystery that kept puzzling me, came to me when Pat Rafter and I were involved in some serious love-making. Tommy Haas was removed from my list of suspects, but I hadn't given up on the idea that 'The Edge' actually stood for TH and that my stalker was someone with those initials.
Just as Pat was eagerly sucking my cock, I saw his face before me. It wasn't the first time I had a vision of him while having sex with someone else, but at last I fitted the pieces together. The load 'Yeaaaaaah' that come from my lips wasn't the result of my erupting cock which pumped its load into Pat's warm mouth, though my Australian lover was a more than able cocksucker. No, it was more a Eureka-type of yes. As in: "Yes, now I know who it is". Politeness kept me from getting dressed instantly, leaving Pat behind and searching from my now not so secret admirer. But as Pat started fucking my arse, my mind was on other things. This time there was no doubt in my mind. 'The Edge' had to be Tim Henman. I must admit he doesn't seem the type of person to do that sort of thing, which is why I didn't think of him in the first place. But somehow I felt it was him: the initials were right and he knew the most intimate details about me (remember my first story !).
When I finally tracked him down, I went to see him at the hotel where he was staying. As soon as Tim Henman opened the door to his room, any doubt that I may still have had left my mind. I knew, and he knew that I knew.
"I've been expecting you for a while now", Tim said in that lovely English accent of his, quite a difference from the rather rough Australian tongue that I was used to.
"I guess you should have been less secretive then", I replied as I entered the room. And as I wanted to demand an explanation, Tim started giving me one:
"Ever since our previous encounter I've been very confused about a lot of things. Even though I love my girlfriend very much, she can never give me the same pleasure you have given me that time in the shower."
The whole shower-experience came back to me. I remembered the initial hesitation and then the slowly giving into temptation, the passion I felt when I fucked his virgin arse. I could almost feel his lovely hands all over me, smell his freshly washed crotch and taste the sweet cum that had filled my mouth in such large quantities.
"That's why I was so secretive", he continued. "I didn't want her to find out."
"You could have just told me who you were. I wouldn't have told her. Surely you must realise that."
"I was afraid that someone would find out if I would have signed the messages with my own name. I don't really trust the Internet and with all those journalists around... They would love a story like that. I figured you would put two and two together and soon realise who I was."
"Are you trying to say you overestimated my intelligence ?", I tried to sound insulted.
"No, of course not. I was just too afraid to give too much information in my messages."
"But you do realise that I'm in a relationship with someone else, don't you ?"
"Yes, I know all about you and Pat and I respect that. I didn't send you those messages to start a relationship with you. In fact, I don't want to start a relationship with any man."
"Then why did you send those dirty messages full of horny details about what you wanted to do with me ?"
"Didn't you notice that the things I said I wanted to do with you, were exactly the things we had done together ?"
Now he mentioned it, the messages did seem familiar. What better hint could he have given me to his true identity, I thought. Maybe I was stupid.
"So what do you want from me, then ?", I asked.
"I just want you to help me", Tim said. And then he started to tell me a story that happened to him recently. Since no voice recorder was present I'll have to tell you in my own words.
About a week before Tim created 'The Edge', he was asked to participate in a charity event in Oxford. Since he was on holiday and he's basically an all-round nice guy, Tim agreed. He had to play a short tennis match, nothing too serious. Other events included: an attempt to get into the Guinness Book of Records with the biggest pie in the world (they didn't make it, apparently a similar attempt in Mongolia was more successful), a cross country race for patients of the local mental hospital and a football match between the team of the local university and a team of over 75s who had all played for the England Squad a long time ago. It was the latter event that interested Tim the most. He was a big soccer fan and watched the game before he was due to play his match. The University Team won by 18-1 after two oldies had a heart attack and their keeper turned out to have lost his left leg several years ago.
After the match Tim went to his private dressing room to get ready for his performance. Fully dressed in his tennis gear and ready to warm up, someone entered the room. It was a sweaty soccer player, obviously a member of the University Team.
The young man (he couldn't have been more than twenty) was about six feet tall, had blond hair and the most amazing blue eyes. He was obviously a keen sportsman, judging by his fit body. Dressed in his soccer kit, Tim could only see the boy's muscled and slightly tanned legs. But he imagined what well-defined body the boy kept under his blue shirt.
Apparently he was the captain of the team and thus might have thought that the private dressing room was for him rather than for one of the world's best tennis players. For a moment Tim relived the experience he'd had with me, since this was exactly how we ended up having sex together. I had entered the wrong room by mistake and one thing had led to another (a brief summary, of course). Another similarity was that this young boy didn't leave the British hero indifferent. He had noticed immediately how attractive the soccer captain was.
"Excuse me, but this is a private dressing room just for me", Tim explained politely.
"I know", the lad said. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but I'm a huge fan and I just wanted to say hello and shake your hand."
"Oh, how nice of you", Henman said honestly. And he went over to the young man and shook his hand. His nose was filled with the scent of the boy's sweat and, as if he was in a trance, he hardly heard the boy say: "I'm Damien."
Damien was 20 and a bright young student at one of the Oxford colleges. He was a keen footballer and did a lot of rowing as well, which only made Tim want him more, since he knew rowing makes the body look very good indeed.
Henman's absent mindedness as Damien was telling him details about him, hadn't gone unnoticed. Tim was obviously distracted by the boy's presence, which Damien, who had a nose for such things, took as an open invitation to see how far he could go with the handsome athlete.
Damien stepped closer up to Henman, until the tents they had both formed in their shorts almost met. Tim was now completely dazed by the scent of the soccer player. Knowing full well from his previous experience with me what was going to happen next, Tim didn't even try to resist. Ever since I had left him, naked and confused in the shower where we had sex, he had longed for some more boy meat. And this opportunity wasn't going to pass him by. He wanted Damien very badly. Even though he was hardly experienced, Tim took the initiative. He pressed his body against Damien's, making their hard cocks touch and coming close enough to his lips to plant a passionate kiss on them. Damien, who was a bit surprised by this, responded gladly and let Tim's tongue dance around in his warm mouth.
Damien now knew that he didn't have to fear rejection and that he could test Tim to see just how far he was prepared to go to have sex with him. After a few warm kisses, Damien stepped away from Tim. The tennis star, unaware of Damien's plans, went back over to him to get on with the action. Damien stopped him half way and asked:
"Do you really want me, Tim ?"
Tim couldn't understand why he asked him that. Surely it was quite obvious that he was by no means faking his desire. Henman didn't answer and just smiled to reassure Damien that he wasn't playing any games. But Damien insisted on an answer and asked the question again:
"Tell me you want me, Tim."
"I do, I do."
"I want to hear it, Tim."
"I want you."
"How much, Tim."
"Very much."
"Say it again, Tim."
"I want you very much, Damien."
"Enough to kiss my shoes ?", Damien asked.
Tim was now extremely confused. He realised the soccer player was playing games, but he couldn't see a way out of it without taking the risk Damien would lose interest. Tim decided to indulge him.
"Sure", he replied.
"Then what are you waiting for ?", Damien grinned.
Henman got on his knees, bend over to Damien's left black soccer shoe and quickly kissed it. He was ready to get up but Damien wasn't quite finished:
"Don't you like the other one ?"
Tim looked up to the young man's eyes. He could see the lust and knew that Damien would agree to have sex with him without the whole shoe-thing, but Tim didn't want to take the chance and somehow got even more excited by what this boy was making him do. He kissed the other shoe as well, this time his mouth was a bit longer on the shoe which gave Tim an excellent opportunity to view the boy's legs. Nice calves, he thought. They were thin, but muscular and covered slightly in some blond hair. Damien, who noticed how much attention Tim was paying to his legs, said:
"Go on then, now my socks !"
The blue cotton socks, soaked with the boy's sweat received ample attention from Henman's mouth. He didn't just kiss them but took a piece between his teeth and sucked on the cotton to taste some of Damien's bodily fluids. Damien was really getting aroused by this and started stroking his hard cock through the fabric of his red soccer shorts. Never in his wildest dreams would he have guessed that he could move a famous athlete like that into such a submissive position. But Tim wasn't really that submissive. At first he followed Damien's wishes to please him, but now he was pleasing himself. He never really thought about such things, but the lowest end of a guy could be quite a turn-on.
Tim swiftly untied the boy's shoes and took them off. He kept kissing Damien's socks, taking them into his mouth until they were wet from a mixture of Damien's sweat and Tim's saliva. Then he turned his attention to the calves of the handsome soccer player. They too were covered in the tennis star's sweet saliva. Tim's tongue went up to Damien's knees and then to his thighs. He had enjoyed the sock-thing but was now working his way up quickly for the main prize. But Damien's plans were different again and he stopped Tim, inches away from the soccer shorts that held the meat Tim wanted to taste.
Tim complied without hesitation, disappointed that Damien's cock wasn't in his mouth by now but then again eagerly anticipating what exciting things the boy had planned for him next. The only two things Damien really wanted from Tim were his arse and his socks. The white, ribbed cotton tennis socks that Tim wore, were a major turn-on for Damien, who really was a sock-fan.
"Take it all off", Damien demanded. "Except for the socks."
Tim now started to undress slowly in front of the horny soccer player. First he took his shirt off, revealing his well-defined and smooth chest, the hard nipples and trail of hair that led down from the belly-button to the crotch, the broad shoulders and long handsome arms that ended in those big hands. I remember Tim's hands particularly well. Like any normal person, he only has two of them, but when he really got going it seemed like he had at least a dozen of them. Tim loved to use his hands and instinctively found all the right spots to touch. Never before had I had a lover who could almost make me cum just by caressing my arse, legs, back and chest.
Then Tim took off his large, white tennis shoes and threw them into a corner of the room. Like his hands, Tim's feet are quite large. The next piece of cloth to come off really heated things up. The white tennis shorts that Tim used to cover up his most intimate areas quickly joined the shoes in the same corner. Now he was only dressed in his thick, white cotton socks and his equally white Calvin Kleins, which outlined Tim's hard cock perfectly. His underwear was strained to the limit and Tim was only too happy to remove the last piece of cloth Damien wanted him to take off and to give his aching cock all the room it needed. His cock, slightly larger though thinner than average, stood proudly erect and pointed directly to the object of his desire. Damien, in the mean time, hadn't moved an inch and had just watched Henman as he revealed every part of his beautiful, athletic body.
"Looks like you need a wank, Tim", Damien finally spoke, pointing at Tim's throbbing organ.
At last the two would finally be all over each other, Tim thought. But Damien wanted to see Tim do one more thing before he dug in.
"Go on then, start wanking", he said.
Tim didn't realise Damien was serious before, but now it was clear that the gorgeous boy wasn't through playing with him. Tim took his hard cock in his right hand and started stroking it. Then he saw Damien taking off one of his socks which gave him hope that the boy would give him an appealing striptease. But Damien stopped at the one sock and threw it to Tim, who caught it. He had stopped stroking his cock and wondered what the boy was trying to accomplish. But this time Damien didn't give any instructions and just waited to see what Tim would do. Instinctively Tim began stroking his cock again but this time he was using Damien's soaked blue cotton sock as a tool. At first Tim just rubbed the cotton against his cock, but soon he got the idea of using the sock as a sort of condom. He knew from Damien's smile that this was exactly what the boy had intended for him to do and pulled the sock over his cock and started wanking again. Slowly at first, but as he felt it gave him a wonderful feeling more frantic with each stroke. Tim was now determined to add a third substance to the mixture of sweat and saliva that had made the sock wet. Damien meanwhile was very pleased with himself. He had gotten Tim to do everything he had wanted him to do and now the moment was near for him to fuck the athlete's arse, which he assumed had never been fucked before. But it wasn't clear whether that was the thought that made him extremely horny or whether it was the thought of himself wanking in Tim's socks. As soon as they were through he would take Tim's socks with him and have more fun with them, just as the tennis player was having now with his soccer socks.
Damien was pulled back to reality by a scream of pleasure that came from Tim's lips. It was clear the tennis star was reaching orgasm and was ready to fill the blue sock with a big load of his cum. When Tim was through shooting he pulled the sock from his cock and threw it back to Damien, while his cock was still dripping. Both of them were now ready for the next step.
Damien stepped up to Tim and drew him closer. He kissed the tennis star and manoeuvred him towards a massage table in the dressing room. He pushed naked Tim with his back to the table and when Tim felt it pushing against his backside he sat on it, opened his legs and pulled Damien's body close to him, between his legs.
Now Tim was doing what he does best, working Damien's body with his hands. He felt the young soccer player's tight arse when his fingers went under the waistband of the red soccer shorts. Damien wore nothing underneath and Tim started to pull the shorts down in the hope of finally catching a glimpse of his lover's cock.
"Fuck me, Damien", he whispered.
"Say please, Tim."
"Please, Damien."
"That doesn't sound very convincing."
'Come on, please fuck me, Damien."
" You can do better than that", Damien didn't stop teasing Henman.
"Pleeeaaaaase ! FUCK ME !", Tim cried out.
That was all the encouragement Damien needed. He grasped Tim's legs and pulled them up high above the table. Tim laid his back on the table and exposed his arse hole for Damien to enter. With Tim's legs now resting on Damien's shoulders, his white cotton socks, the only clothes the athlete was still wearing, were now very close to Damien's mouth who couldn't resist taking a small sample of the thick white cotton that was covering the enormous Henman feet.
Now Damien pulled his shorts slightly down, just enough to expose his eight inches of cock. He positioned it on Tim's arse hole and pushed to get in. Since this was only the second cock Tim had ever taken up his arse, there was much resistance. But neither of them was going to let that stop them. Tim remembered well how painful it was when I had first entered him and now he was reliving the whole thing. The only difference was that Tim now knew that the reward for taking the pain was great. He knew that being fucked in the arse is one of the best feelings in the world and so he gladly accepted the pain Damien was causing him by forcing his way in. When his arse had adapted to its new inhabitant, pain turned into pleasure and Tim now fully enjoyed being fucked by this gorgeous young man in his soccer kit.
But Damien was enjoying it even more. Tim had always been one of his favourite fantasy lovers and now he was actually fucking that beautiful tight arse with slow thrusts, trying to make the whole experience last as long as possible.
"FUCK ME HARDER, DAMIEN", Tim cried out.
This time Damien obliged, pumping his cock harder and harder in and out the athlete's intestines. At last Damien was reaching his climax. He could feel the cum working its way up to his cockhead, building up to cause a massive explosion of pure lust. The large quantity of thick, creamy love juice that filled the British hero's arse surprised both men and was proof of how much Damien had wanted this.
When the soccer player was finally through, he pulled his limp cock out of Tim's leaking arse. Henman's cock had meanwhile reached its full length again. Now it was his turn to receive some special attention. After all, the only orgasm he had reached was the result of a wank. And that was nothing unusual. The only part Damien had played was to lend his sock to allow Tim to experience a new way of having sex on his own. Tim wanted to feel Damien's lips around his cock or better still, to fuck him. It would be the first time for him. So far he had only been sucked and fucked but never had the pleasure of taking a cock in his mouth or pushing his way in into another man's arse.
Tim was ready to tear the clothes from this young soccer player's body, when he heard a knock on the door and a voice saying:
"We're waiting for you, Mister Henman."
Damn that charity match, but there was no way to get out of it now. He got dressed again, this time in a new pair of socks since Damien insisted on having the socks Tim was wearing that day. The tennis star begged Damien to wait until the match was over, but he knew the boy wouldn't. And indeed, when Tim entered the dressing room again after the match, the only things he found there was a blue, cum-stained sock and a small note with a telephone number.
To Be Continued
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