Date: Wed, 07 Apr 1999 23:43:43 PDT
From: Rick Machair <rickma@hotmail.com>
Subject: Game, Set and Match - Final

Game, Set and Match - The Final Story 

This is the last episode of 'The Final Story', which is (surprise,
surprise) the last story in the Game, Set and Match-series. I've had great
fun writing this series and hope you have all enjoyed it as well. Once
again: this is a work of fiction and contains explicit gay sex. Your
comments, suggestions, appreciations,... are still welcome at:
mikec@freemail.nl (please use that address).


Part Five: The One When Tim's Gotta Pay


The story Tim Henman had just told me had a very predictable effect on my
cock and on my state of mind. It made me so horny that I wanted Tim there
and then. The thought of him being fucked by this gorgeous young soccer
player drove me wild with desire. I would have ripped the clothes from
Henman's beautiful body and made love to him like there was no tomorrow,
but he wasn't finished yet:

"I just couldn't help myself", Tim said. "I just had to see him again."

Then he paused for a while.

"Well, did you ring him ?", I asked impatiently. I couldn't believe there
was more to this hot story. But there was. Much more, in fact. Tim
continued the story.

It didn't even take him more than two days before he called the number that
he had found on the note next to the sock. He had kept the sock and wanked
in it for days on end. When Tim was telling me all this, I could just
imagine it all in my head. I could imagine him waking up the morning after
his first encounter with Damien, wearing only a pair of white Calvin Kleins
and having the most amazing morning erection. Tim hadn't slept much, just
thinking about what had happened and what was going to happen. He had been
so disappointed that Damien had left before Tim had found a chance to say
goodbye properly. But the main thing on his mind was whether he should call
him or not. He desperately wanted to, but on the other hand he was afraid,
still wanting to keep a very low profile about his taste for guys. While
contemplating what to do next, Tim instinctively started stroking his hard
cock through the fabric of his shorts and after a while reached under his
shorts to feel his warm throbbing cock in his hand. Still thinking about
Damien and about how much he wanted to fuck that boy's arse, he raised his
back and pulled his shorts down. He started stroking his long, thin cock,
imagining that his fingers were in fact Damien's lips and tongue. He
started thinking that he never actually got a good glimpse of Damien's cock
and even of the rest of his body as the soccer player had remained fully
clothed as he trusted his cock inside and outside the tight arse of the
British tennis player. But Tim knew Damien had a great body and in his mind
he saw the boy's naked and smooth upper torso with his well-defined chest,
he saw the hard cock he had felt inside him and in his mind Damien now
turned around for Tim to see his beautiful arse. That was the arse Tim
wanted. And as he continued wanking himself off he imagined that Damien was
spreading his legs for Tim to enter him. At that time Tim remembered he
still had the sock. He interrupted masturbating and looked for it. It was
in his tennis bag, all dried up from all the cum that Tim had shot into it
while being in the presence of the hot soccer captain. Tim laid back on his
bed and pulled the blue stained soccer sock over his cock. Now he could
really imagine that he was in Damien's company. The feeling of fabric that
had been on Damien's body added a lot to Tim's pleasure as he continued
wanking. In his thoughts the sock was nothing less than Damien's arse and
as he came close to reaching his climax Tim started to shout:

"Take it, Damien. Yeeeeaaaah, that feels good, doesn't it ? You like that,
don't you ?"

The fact that Tim didn't get any response didn't stop him enjoying himself:

"Aaaaaaaggghhhh, your arse is so tight. You're such a good boy."

And as the sock was filled with a second load of Tim's cum, he just cried
out in pleasure. This was definitely better than winning even the most
important tennis match. If Tim had to choose at that moment between winning
a Wimbledon final or really fucking Damien, he would have chosen the
latter. Tim made sure every drop of his love juice filled the blue
sock. And in the following 48 hours the sock had to take five more bursts
coming from Tim's cock. But even though he had never enjoyed wanking as
much as then, he realised that it wouldn't last. What he really needed was
the boy in real flesh. And that's when he decided to dial the number Damien
had left for him.

After a couple of rings, a male voice answered the phone. As soon as Tim
recognised the voice of the soccer player, his cock reacted immediately by
growing considerably in size.

"Hi, Damien. It's Tim here", he said.

"Tim who ?", was the answer he got. Of course, Damien had realised
instantly who it was. After all, he knew Tim's voice and had been expecting
him. The tennis player had been so incredibly keen that Damien was quite
sure he would get in contact with him after a while. When Tim had
identified himself, Damien continued:

"What took you so long ? I've been waiting for you to call me. I figured
you might want something more from me after the last time. I bet you've
been thinking about me and I'm sure my old sock has been put to good use."

Again Tim was confused by how clever this guy was. He seemed to be able to
know the exact move Tim was going to make.

"You're right", Tim had to admit. "But I was hoping we could meet again."

Damien was only too happy to meet Tim again, since the tennis star hadn't
left Damien unmoved as well. The two socks he had taken from the athlete
were two of Damien's most cherished objects. The last two nights he had
slept completely naked expect for Tim's white cotton tennis socks and every
time he got horny, he had wanked in one of them (and on occasion he had
pulled both of them over his cock) thinking of the tight arse he had fucked
so vigorously.

"Sure, Tim. Just name the time and place and I'll be there."

"Well, I don't really know anywhere we could go to", Tim said.

"What about your place ?"

"I'd rather not, it's too risky. Can't you think of something ?"

"All right then. Just come to Oxford and meet me at the college soccer
field. I'll take care of everything else. Is tomorrow OK for you ?"

"Sure", Tim said. Henman was surprised by how easy it all went. This time
Damien didn't seem to play any games and Tim was convinced that the
following day he would have the time of his life with the handsome soccer
player. For the first time, he would fuck another man. But poor Tim was in
for another surprise.

Tim was the first to arrive at the local soccer field in Oxford. He had
been so anxious to see Damien again that he was about ten minutes
early. Tim waited for about fifteen minutes when Damien showed up. They
greeted each other, Tim with desire in his voice and Damien with a grin on
his face.

"So", Damien said, "let's get to the point. Why did you want to see me
again?"

"I think that's quite obvious. We couldn't just leave it at that."

"I guess by that you mean you want to have sex with me", and now Damien
stepped over to Tim, brought his mouth to the tennis player's ear and
whispered: "I'm all for that, Tim."

Now very confident that he was finally going to get what he had wanted, Tim
asked: "Where can we go to? Have you arranged something?"

"You bet I have, Timmy boy", Damien continued whispering. "But don't you
think we should discuss the price first?"

"What ?", Tim cried out. But then he calmed down, he knew that this was
just the way Damien did things. The boy would probably want him to give
some sort of performance first, like wanking into a sock again. Then Henman
brought his own mouth to Damien's ear and whispered: "What have you got
planned for me now? I hope it involves seeing you naked this time." Tim
couldn't believe he was saying all these things. He had never in his life
talked dirty to anyone, not even to his girlfriend. It's just not something
Tim Henman did. But then again, he had never been so horny before.

"Oh dear, Tim. I don't think you really understand. I am talking about
money."

"What ?", Tim repeated himself, this time without calming down, since now
he was sure Damien was asking him to pay for his services. But before Tim
could say anything more, Damien put his hand on Tim's mouth and continued
whispering in the athlete's ear:

"Just listen to me for a minute. I'm a rent-boy, Tim. And that means that
people usually pay me for having sex with them. I've already given you a
free ride, but going to college is expensive and I don't want to clean
dishes to make ends meet. So, what's it going to be, loverboy?"

Tim was absolutely shocked by what he had just heard. The boy he had wanted
so bad, the boy who had fucked him so intensely a couple of days ago, that
cheeky, gorgeous, young soccer player was a prostitute and was actually
asking Tim Henman to pay for sex. There was no way Tim would do that. He
had never done such a thing in his life and he wasn't going to do it this
time, no matter how horny he was. Tim just stepped away from the boy and
said:

"Well, I guess that's goodbye then." He didn't want to say much more to
Damien, he was just so angry with him and with himself. He wanted to leave
and never see the boy again, but before he went, Damien came up to him
again and said:

"Just think about it, Tim. I'll make you a special prize. Take my card."

Damien presented what seemed like a business card to Tim, who didn't want
to have anything more to do with the boy but he accepted the card anyway,
just to avoid a scene. Then Tim left and the last thing he heard the boy
say was: "I'll never charge you for letting me fuck you. You do have the
cutest arse."

Back home, Tim started a serious practice session. He had never hit the
ball harder and more aggressive than right after his meeting with
Damien. And he kept on feeling like that for days. It didn't stop him
thinking about the soccer player, though. After a few days he even took the
sock out again and started wanking into it like before. And his
determination never to contact Damien again was slowly but surely getting
smaller and smaller, as he found the card again and looked at it several
times a day. It only said:

Damien Keogh Rent-boy Price to be discussed. Uniforms on request.
Appointments through e-mail. damienkeogh@hotmail.com

Meanwhile, Damien was having some doubts as well. He truly was a rent-boy
and, in fact, in very high demand. But he didn't consider having sex with
an athlete like Tim Henman as a job. He had admired Tim as a player and
lusted over him for quite a while now. He wanted Tim, rent-boy or not. He
had gambled heavily, counting on Tim's hormones to kill two birds with one
stone: a good old fuck with a top tennis player and a nice sum of money to
spend. But Damien was starting to fear that he had lost this hand. Henman
didn't contact him and that seemed to be the end of it. Damien soon resumed
his normal duties as a rent-boy, but felt he had missed an opportunity of a
life-time.

If I have made one thing clear throughout this whole series, it's that
tennis player's hormones never should be underestimated. It seems to be a
profession that makes one extremely horny. And even a repressed guy like
Tim Henman in the end can't resist the call from nature. When wanking into
the blue cotton soccer sock just didn't do the trick anymore, there was
only one thing left to do for Tim. He mailed Damien and made an
appointment. Tim was on the verge of becoming a paying client of the
hottest rent-boy in England. He was deeply ashamed it had come so far, but
he just couldn't resist it.

Tim made it very clear that he was willing to pay Damien whatever he wanted
and requested that the boy would come dressed in his soccer kit, just like
the first time they had met. Damien quickly responded and they arranged a
fair price for a whole night of mad, passionate sex. Damien knew of a loft
somewhere in Oxford. It belonged to a friend of his, who was often
abroad. The rent-boy had used this venue a lot for his business
activities. He went to the loft a couple of hours before Tim was to arrive
and made himself ready to entertain the man he had always dreamed
off. Fully dressed in his traditional soccer kit: black shoes, blue cotton
socks, red shorts and blue shirt, Damien waited in anticipation.

Exactly on time Tim arrived at the loft, ringed the door, entered and
exchanged pleasantries with the hot boy. Tim was extremely nervous and had
been in doubt about this ever since he had made the appointment. But now he
saw the boy in his soccer outfit, his doubts were pushed aside by the
feelings of sheer lust which had made Tim act like that in the first place.

"You know, Tim", Damien spoke, "I'm really glad you decided to take my
offer. I wasn't sure you would have the guts, to be honest. But let's get
to the point. We're here to have sex and I don't know about you, but I'm
horny as hell. Let me see you strip for me."

"No way", Tim said. "I'm paying for this. This time you'll do exactly as I
tell you. I'm taking charge here."

Well, Damien was a bit surprised. He didn't take Tim as the dominant type,
but the will of the client has to be respected. Damien was ready to let
Henman take the lead this time.

"So, what do you want me to do, Tim ?"

"I'll let you know as we go along. Right now, I want you to sit next to me
and talk to me."

Damien did as he was told. He patiently answered the many questions Tim
asked about the rent-boy industry. But the tennis star was hardly
listening, even though some of Damien's stories were quite
interesting. Henman wanted to get his hands on the boy's body and didn't
waste much time. As soon as Damien had started talking, Tim had put one of
his hands and Damien's bare left knee. Both guys were getting hard at an
amazing pace. Tim's hard cock was well hidden in his grey Calvin Kleins and
blue denim jeans, but Damien's was there for everyone to see. As usual he
hadn't bothered wearing any underwear and the red soccer shorts were soon
stretched to the limit by the large tent his hard cock had formed in
it. Tim continued stroking the boy's knee, moving a bit down to the
beautiful soccer calves or up to the well-formed thighs. Secretly Tim
wanted to kiss Damien's socks again. He had remembered what a turn-on it
had been. But he didn't want to loose control and decided to be on the
other side. After about fifteen minutes of great erotic tales and heavy
stroking of legs, Damien did take charge of things. Obviously things had to
speed up. There were so many things the boy wanted to do with Tim and he
knew Tim didn't have the experience and probably not even the nerve to
really take control of the situation. But he guessed right to what Tim
wanted him to do and he was clever enough to make the tennis player believe
he was still fully in charge.

Damien got off the couch and on his knees in front of Henman. He bent over
and planted a kiss on the brown suede shoes Tim was wearing. Exactly what
Tim had in mind. He wanted the boy to pay attention to the lower areas of
his body, just to see if it was just as great being on the receiving
end. It was. Tim felt great power and control as the boy started wetting
his shoes with his saliva. Then he felt the boys lips on his socks. Damien
continued kissing Tim's ankles through the socks as he started undoing the
star's shoes. When the shoes were off, Damien took Tim's right foot and
brought it to his mouth. He kissed the biggest toe and then started sucking
on every individual toe through the fabric of his socks. It drove Tim wild
and he started rubbing his crotch in his now too small pants. When a large
part of this one sock was soaked with Damien's saliva he sat up without
leaving the foot out of his grip and gently brought it down to his own
crotch. He pushed Tim's clothed foot against his own hard on and Tim
quickly caught on and moved his foot up and down the boy's crotch. As
Damien was fucking Tim's foot, the tennis player raised his other leg and
brought this one to Damien's mouth. Damien gladly accepted this treat and
felt in heaven with one foot on his crotch and the other one on his
lips. He took the right foot in his hands, which he moved up to Tim's
calves only to reach back down again. It was time for the sock to come
off. When it was off the now bare foot continued its rubbing work on
Damien's crotch. And when the sock on the other foot was removed too, Tim
lowered it as well and started to work on that cock with both his
feet. Damien soon found a rhythm and started grinding his dick between the
big Henman feet. There was no way this could have lasted much longer
without both of them having a major orgasm. But luckily they both saw the
danger and ended this rather weird position.

"Get up", Tim demanded. "It's time to put on a show for me."

"Why don't we both get changed ?", Damien said. "I've got another one of
these costumes which I think would fit you."

The thought of being dressed in the same soccer kit, rather appealed to
Tim. Then he could really play the part of Damien. He followed Damien's
instructions and went into another room where a full soccer outfit was laid
out for him. With no underwear of course. But Tim cleverly just kept on his
Calvin Kleins and put on the gear which was in reverse colours: red socks,
blue shorts and red shirt. He didn't bother to put on the shoes. Back in
the room, the pair of them just looked cute. Both in soccer kit, only in
different colours.

Tim sat down again and beckoned Damien to continue with the show. This time
he wanted to see Damien in full frontal nudity. As the experienced rent-boy
he put on the best striptease Tim is ever going to see in his
life. Complete with assorted music, Damien started to dance around in front
of Henman. First he bent over to remove his shoes. While doing that he gave
Tim a great view of his arse. Tim couldn't wait to get his hands on this
arse, which appeared to be perfectly round shaped. Next came off the
shirt. A well-defined smooth torso, sculpted by extensive rowing was
finally revealed for Tim's hungry eyes. The soccer had made the boy's legs
perfect and the rowing had done the same for the boy's upper body. What a
body this boy had. Of course, Damien did his best to stay in excellent
shape. His living depended on it. This body had made him a very expensive
rent-boy with a large clientele and he didn't want to jeopardise that by
slacking off.

Then, finally, Damien turned around and pulled down his shorts to show that
great round arse of his. And when he turned around he had a surprise for
Tim. While Tim had been in the other room changing, Damien had pulled both
of Tim's socks over his cock. So now, the boy was dressed only in two pairs
of sock, one on his feet and one on his cock.

Enough with the socks already, Tim thought. By now Tim's sense of foreplay
and erotic role-playing had simply evaporated, what he wanted was to see
his soon to be lover's hard eight inch cock. Tim got up and went over to
Damien. He pushed the boy's near naked body against his own, grabbed his
beautiful bare arse with both hands and whispered: "There's no escape this
time, Damsie. You are going to show me what you've got, if it's the last
thing you do."

Tim swiftly got on his knees, his mouth now inches away from the trophy he
had been wanting more than that old cup you can win at Wimbledon. He opened
his mouth wide and took the boy's clothed manhood into his mouth. A deep
moan left Damien's lips as he felt the warmth of Tim's breath through the
fabric of the socks that still separated his own hard cock from the tongue
of one of his all-time favourite fantasy lovers. But Tim soon got rid off
that barrier. As he pulled his mouth back from the throbbing young cock, he
managed to get one of the socks between his teeth and pulled it back with
him. The second sock was removed with a similar movement, though this time
Tim actually gently sucked on the guy's penis before the sock was fully
removed. With all the socks out of the way now, Tim got the best view of
that glorious and particularly hard piece of meat that was pointing so
proudly towards Tim's lips. And although Tim wanted to get off himself, he
couldn't resist a taste of the fully naked cock. It was the first time Tim
had ever taken a cock in his mouth, but he soon proved that tennis wasn't
his only talent. Damien was over the moon when he received so much
attention and started running his fingers through Tim's short hair. Tim was
getting into the finer aspects of this blow-job. After a while of breathing
on the cock and licking various parts of it, Tim started to suck on the
cock-head while licking it with his tongue. As precum started to enter the
British number one's mouth he decided to leave Damien's cock for what it
was. He didn't want Damien to cum before he did himself, after all what if
Damien walked away again. And so he gave the balls some attention. He
nibbled on them, kissed them, sucked on them both, but the moans and even
screams of Damien told him this wasn't going to have much effect in
stopping the soccer player reaching an orgasm. More drastic measures were
needed and so Tim backed down completely, went back to the sofa, looked
Damien straight in the eyes and grinned.

"Well, it seems I've underestimated you", Damien said. "You're one hell of
a tease, Tim. I guess I deserved that."

"You bet you have", Tim replied.

"So what's up next ?", Damien asked impatiently.

"Now, I'm finally going to fuck that beautiful arse of yours", Tim spoke
the words he had been wanting to say for ages.

"I'll better lube you up then", and with those words Damien went over to
Tim, sat down next to him and started kissing and licking those lovely,
slim tennis legs. However eager he was, when he felt the boy's lips on him,
Tim decided the fucking could wait for just a few more minutes. Damien was
swiftly working his way up with his tongue. After the knee section had been
wetted enough, the inner thighs were up next and Damien even probed under
the blue soccer shorts. With the boy's tongue now dangerously close to
Tim's hard cock, passion was experiencing another highlight. And then
Damien stopped and moved even closer to Tim. This time his lips weren't
seeking another part of those hot legs, instead they were longing to be
touched by the lips of the sportsman. For the first time that evening, the
guys kissed each other. After gently brushing his lips against Henman's,
Damien's tongue entered the warm mouth and soon found an eager
companion. Their tongues locked together in a tender and passionate
embrace, Damien stroke the back of Tim's neck, while Tim had his hands all
over the naked back of the sexiest man he had ever seen in his life. Damien
pushed his naked crotch against Tim's fully clothed one and as both boys
started to grind their hard cocks together, Damien's hands moved down and
reached under the red soccer shirt Tim was wearing. He pulled it up and
started caressing the erect nipples on the athlete's smooth chest. They
unlocked their mouths for a brief moment to allow Damien to pull Tim's
shirt over his head. But as soon as the shirt was off, the rent-boy pulled
the now bare chested Henman back to him to continue the snogging. It took
ages before Damien was finally ready to leave Tim's mouth and pay some
attention to other parts of that beautiful athletic body. Neck and
shoulders were up first. While having the famous Henman hands all over his
back and through his hair, he kissed and licked almost every square inch of
the perfectly shaped upper part of Tim's body. Both arms were covered in
the boy's saliva and each individual finger was gently sucked on by the
boy's wanting mouth. But obviously chest and belly received the most
attention. Damien almost sucked the nipples from the tennis star's body and
Tim's belly button received ample attention from the boy's tongue. All this
added fifteen minutes to Tim's state of never having fucked a man before,
but it was a quarter of an hour well spent.

When both the upper and lower part of Tim's body were fully heated up by
Damien's licking, it was now time for the very interesting middle part to
receive the same kind of treatment. But first Tim had to take off those
shorts and that damn underwear that had been bothering him for ages
now. How Tim managed to keep on his Calvin Kleins for so long is quite the
mystery. They became absolutely useless as they had lost all their
elasticity from being overstretched. Tim never wore them again and left
wearing a pair of Damien's. But we're getting ahead of ourselves
here. After Damien had finally released Tim's painfully throbbing cock,
they were both equally naked, only wearing a pair of soccer socks: blue for
Damien, red for Tim.

In order to lube Tim's cock, Damien covered it in saliva through the gift
of the blow-job. Not the most adequate lube, but certainly the most
pleasant one to use. Anyway, Damien's arse was used to being fucked and
wouldn't put up a big fight against its intruder. What I'm trying to say is
that Damien started sucking the long, thin Henman cock. After burying his
face in the athlete's crotch and taking in the manly scent of this
extremely horny tennis star and after tasting Tim's balls, Damien focused
his efforts on getting that cock as wet as possible, without causing a
major eruption. As soon as precum started to leak out in an alarming
quantity, Damien knew it was time to stop.

"Right, I think you're all ready now", Damien said, proud of a job
well-done.

"Great", Tim gasped, catching his breath after that great feeling of having
Damien's lips on his cock. The poor tennis player had never experienced
such passion. Not even I myself got him into such a state. And since Tim
had never fucked a guy before, Damien figured he would make it easy for the
lad by getting himself in the right position: on the carpet on all fours
with his waiting arse in Henman's direction.

"Come on, Tim. What are you waiting for ? Fuck me!", Damien encouraged Tim.

It was all becoming a bit too much for Henman, who now started
hesitating. Sure he had wanted to fuck Damien ever since he first laid eyes
on him, but now the moment was finally there, a touch of nerves caught up
with him.

"Take me, Tim", Damien repeated. "Shove it up my arse!"

"Right", Tim said decisively as he left the sofa, kneeled behind Damien and
positioned his cock against the arse hole. Damien would have sucked the
cock into his arse if that would be at all possible. It seemed like Damien
wanted it even more than Tim did, judging by his encouragements.

"Come on, Tim. Fuck me!", he almost begged.

Tim started pushing his hard cock against the arse hole, which pretty soon
opened up to let the welcome visitor in.

"Aaaggggghhh", sighed Damien as soon as the first inch of Henman's cock was
inside his intestines. "Push it in, loverboy. Just fuck the shit out of
me."

Encouraged by such lovely words Tim did as he was asked and saw his cock
disappear inch by inch into an other man's arse. He never imagined how good
this felt. He had got the idea that fucking must be pretty good when he saw
the expression on both mine and Damien's face when we fucked him, but the
real thing was simply divine. Tim's cock was engulfed by the warmth of
Damien's inner body and the inexperienced tennis player even feared he
would burst before he got his cock completely in. A quick thought about
last week's tie-break against Richard Krajicek did the trick. Tim now felt
Damien's beautiful arse cheeks against his body and realised this was as
far as it would go in. Feeling Tim's pubes against his flesh, Damien came
to the same conclusion.

"Now fuck me, Tim. Give it to me hard."

But Damien hadn't even finished his sentence before Tim had started to pull
out his cock again, reluctantly but fully aware of what fucking a man
actually means. When Tim could see his cock almost completely, he pushed it
back in again. Another mile-stone in the man's life: after his first steps,
first words, first tennis match and first victory he could now add his
first thrust into a guy's arse into his personal biography. And he was
loving that more than those other great moments put together.

"That's great, Tim", Damien didn't stop cheering Henman on. "Ooooohhh,
you're soooo good."

Tim was a natural born thruster as he pushed his cock inside and outside of
Damien's arse at an increasing pace.

"Harder, Tim. Fuck harder", Damien kept on asking for more. And Tim kept on
giving it. The verbal encouragements by Damien stopped as Tim was now
fucking him at full speed. Now Tim was the one to make noise.

"Aaaghhh, your arse feels so great", he said. But soon a full sentence
became too much of a job and "aaaagggghhhhhs" turned into
"aaaaaaaagggggggghhhhhhhhhs". A huge amount of bodily fluids was getting
ready to leave Henman's body in a violent eruption of warm love juices. And
indeed, the words 'huge' and 'violent eruption' are well chosen. No amount
of cum has ever left a man's body than when Tim Henman filled the guts of
Damien Keogh. Years of silent longing for this moment, weeks of dreaming of
this particular arse and by now an hour of actually being in the presence
of that gorgeous, young and sexy soccer player had made the stream of cum
larger than the Mississippi. Damien's arse started leaking everywhere, but
no one cared. Both boys were crying out in sheer lust and pleasure as Tim's
orgasm went on and on and on. When every drop had left Tim's body and his
cock was getting limp inside Damien's arse, he pulled out and collapsed on
the cum stained carpet next to Damien.


Part Six: Is There No End To This Story ?


By now, I was in heaven and hell at the same time. Sure, hearing Tim
telling that story in such vivid details was about the best thing my ears
have ever had the pleasure of listening to. But on the other hand, I
REAAALLLY needed some relief. My cock had been throbbing throughout the
story. I would have fucked anyone there and then, even a girl as a matter
of fact. But since Tim Henman was the only other person in that room, he
would just have to do. Tim could see the lust in my eyes and soon realised
what my mind was thinking. Not even Laurence Olivier could have acted that
good. But Tim stopped me by saying:

"That's not why I've asked you to come."

"Maybe not, but now that you've got me all horny, it seems only fair", I
said. "Remember how good we are together."

"You're incredible", Tim answered. "You come over here saying that you're
in a relationship with Pat Rafter and that you don't want anything more to
do with me. And now, you're proposing we have sex together. Well, think
again. I've asked you here, because I want your help."

Well, he did have a point. I was very committed to Pat, even though the odd
affair doesn't make that statement very convincing. Tim was probably
right. I just needed to control my hormones. I was still horny as hell, but
decided having sex with Tim was no longer an option. Unless he really
wanted me to, of course.

"So, what is it you want from me ?", I asked.

"I want you to help me get Damien on the ATP-tour", Tim said.

"What? Are you mad?"

But apparently the poor guy hadn't lost his senses. He was just madly in
love with that rent-boy and he wanted him close to him without attracting
too much attention. But Tim was in for an unpleasant surprise. He actually
had no idea of the circumstances under which I had left my job (or rather
got fired) and when I told him, he soon realised that an intervention from
me would do more harm than good. Anyone recommended by me would surely
never even come close to getting a job on the Tour. As soon as Henman had
established that fact, he lost all interest of being with me. All those
efforts, those secret mails, turned out to be completely pointless. Tim was
very disappointed and I figured the best thing I could do now was leave and
fuck Pat senseless, but I just had to ask:

"So, what happened next? Did you see him again?"

"Of course I have. It's costing me a fortune, but he's worth it, believe
me", Tim said. And then he just continued telling the story from where he
left off. I sat down again and listened very carefully.

After that first fuck, it took Tim ages to recover. He just kept lying
there on his back on that carpet, exhausted and extremely
satisfied. Damien, however, was by far fully satisfied and after a while,
he made another move on Tim. He crawled on top of Tim and started kissing
the athlete again, while whispering in his ear:

"That was so damn good, Tim. I just can't believe you've never done this
before. I really hope you're not too tired. After all, you've paid for a
whole night."

Slowly but surely Tim started to respond again to Damien's continuous
kissing and licking. Feeling that warm tongue all over him and that hard
cock pushing against his flesh, made Tim's own cock spring to life
again. Slowly but surely things were heating up once more.

As Damien got reacquainted with every part of Tim's body, the tennis star
realised there was still one major sexual pleasure he hadn't experienced
yet. He had the pleasure of having both my and Damien's cock up his arse,
and just a couple of minutes ago he had fucked another man for the first
time in his life. But Tim had never tasted cum yet, he had been on the
receiving end of a blow-job on several occasions, once by a man (i.e. me,
remember ?), but he had never given one, although he had come dangerously
close of doing so, at the beginning of their evening. And to expand his
sexual horizon, Tim decided it was time to suck a cock, and what better one
than that hard eight incher that was standing from the body of the
beautiful 20-year old soccer player/student/rent-boy and who knows what
else...

In fact, things had been a bit one-sided so far. Damien had put on a nice
show for him, he had worshipped the wonderful athlete's body, he had
allowed Tim to fuck him senseless and now he was kissing and licking his
way down again. Sure, Tim was paying and Damien couldn't really expect the
same kind of treatment, but quite frankly this boy had meant so much to
him, that Tim really wanted to repay the favour in full. He took Damien in
his powerful arms and switched positions so Tim was now on top. After
another decade of kissing each other with increasing passion (their tongues
were practically glued together), Tim started to focus on some other parts
of Damien's hot body. As said earlier, the combination of practising two
different sports like soccer and rowing had done amazing things with this
boy's physique. The rowing had sculpted the upper body into a well-defined
torso and perfectly shaped abdomen, while soccer had given the boy an
incredible pair of legs. That perfect body was enough to make him the
object of every man's desire, but he also had the face to go with it. His
boyish looks under that blond hair, those amazingly blue eyes and that
wonderful smile completed the picture. Tim could see it all now, except for
the boy's feet which were still covered by a pair of socks as were his own
feet. A closer look at the soccer player's cock revealed even more
perfection. He hadn't really paid much attention to it, when he had it in
his mouth earlier, but now he took a good look at it. It was slightly
bigger and thicker than his own, but not in an excessive way. Damien was
uncut but with a cock that hard you could see a big part of the shiny
cockhead. Two heavy balls hung loosely underneath. As Tim stared at the
boy's most intimate organ, Damien knew what was going to
happen. Finally. For over an hour, Damien had been sporting the biggest
hard-on in his life and yet he hadn't even come close to an orgasm. Sure,
foreplay was nice, having Tim Henman fuck you is nice as well, having him
on top of you while he kisses most parts of your body is equally nice, but
if Tim wasn't going to do anything more about this boy's extremely
throbbing cock by his own will, Damien might have forced himself upon his
client.

No need for that though, as Tim started to lick Damien's shaft very
gently. Tim was a bit unsure at first and didn't want to hurt Damien by
having his teeth in the way like most inexperienced cocksuckers, but soon
Tim got over that. After wetting the boy's cock, Tim took his time to work
on his balls. No doubt that Tim has always enjoyed playing with balls,
though hitting this particular set of balls as hard as you can with a
racket is more of a pain than it is a treat. Unless you're into that stuff,
of course. But after a while, Tim had to let go of the balls. Damien had a
nice idea. He had noticed that Tim's cock was as hard as ever again and
decided a nice bit of simultaneous sucking would add so much extra to the
athlete's new experiences. And he was so right. Tim swiftly brought himself
into position: his face nice on the cock and his cock now very close to
Damien's mouth. I try to avoid the more technical terms, but basically Tim
and Damien were in a classic 69 position.

Tim was the first one to take a cock in his mouth. It didn't prove to be
that easy for our inexperienced friend and he started wondering what the
point of the whole 69 really was. Until he felt Damien's lips all over his
own cock, of course. Any doubt vanished and both youngsters got into their
respective blow-jobs. What Tim lacked in experience, he made up for by
enthusiasm. He formed a rim with his lips around Damien's shaft and just
went up and down on it, while rubbing his tongue over the cockhead. This
time Damien wasn't encouraging him verbally but by adjusting the pace of
his own sucking action to that of Tim's. The boys were soon rhythmically
aligned and would have won the Simultaneous Sucking Contest of any Olympic
Games. Don't you think it would be a more exciting sport than that
simultaneous swimming stuff ?

No prizes for guessing who was the first to cum, of course. Poor Damien had
been holding back for so long now and suddenly burst. Tim didn't know what
hit him as he felt a strong stream of cum entering his mouth. He wasn't
ready for it and to avoid drowning he just had to pull back. Damien's cum
landed everywhere, mainly on the boy's bodies, while Tim's cum was nicely
contained into one place, the mouth of his soccer lover. Seeing Damien
explode had sent Henman over the edge again. This time the quantity was a
lot smaller than that first eruption, though Tim was convinced there
wouldn't be anymore left. And with an experienced and even professional
cocksucker on it, there was no danger of a mess. Damien gladly took it all
in and swallowed the cum of his client. Again Tim, really out of his depth
here, collapsed on the carpet next to Damien. Now there surely wasn't a
drop of his love juice left.

Think again.

Sure, it took some recovering for both guys, especially for Tim, but after
a while they were at it again. And again. And a couple of hours later,
again. And in the morning, just before Tim had to leave, there was time for
just one more.

Damien had his fun by getting another chance to fuck the Henman arse, which
he did with vigour. But Tim's bliss was even greater when he fucked Damien
again and when he received two more blow-jobs.

Both boys left, still dressed in those soccer shorts which hadn't come off
all night. And of course, a couple of days later Tim called Damien again,
who gladly serviced his favourite client again. Lots of 'again' here, but
that's the way it was.

After hanging on Tim's lips for hours, he finally stopped talking. The
story of him and Damien was told, he knew I couldn't help him in any
way. But I could see Tim was glad that he had told someone. Who else could
he tell about his good fortune ? No one knows he's gay and he likes to keep
it that way. Well, I was glad he told me as well. It was an incredible
story that made me look at Tim in a whole different way. I had always found
him a bit uptight and even stiff, I never imagined there was so much
passion in him. And I think he surprised himself.

Suddenly we were both struggling with words and a quick goodbye was the
best way to get out of a somewhat awkward situation. I went back to my Pat,
who didn't seem too happy when I entered the hotel room:

"Where the hell have you been ? I've been waiting for you for hours!", Pat
said angrily.

I didn't say anything and just planted my lips on his for a very intense
french kiss. I pushed him up against the wall, locking our groins together
and never allowing our tongues to get separated. Pat didn't know what hit
him, but soon responded with equal passion to my sudden surge of sexual
energy, caused by the story Tim Henman had just shared with me.

My hands found their way to Pat's priceless penis as they reached under his
belt and into his pants. I just loved to feel his cock getting hard in my
hands. His limp cock quickly grew to its full potential, my own organ
throbbing from the moment we touched each other. When I was done working
his lips, I got on my knees in front of him, pulled my hands out of his
pants and used them skilfully to unzip his jeans, pull them down to his
ankles, rapidly followed by his checkered boxershorts. However I liked
making love to Pat, sucking his nipples, caressing that strong chest,
feeling his strong limbs around me, or nibbling on his big balls, now was
not the time. I went straight for the kill, took Pat's cock all the way in
and deep-throated him there and then. Pat was speechless but I could tell
from the way he pulled my head closer, he was liking it. My idea was to
give Pat the blow-job of his life. What I really wanted was to fuck that
beautiful arse of his, but I knew Pat was still a bit apprehensive about
being fucked, even after all that time. Pat, a great lover of oral sex,
still kept his arse closed, unless a special occasion (or unless I could
get him drunk) called for special measures. I knew he wouldn't refuse me
the pleasure of fucking him after this.

Finally Pat found words to express his delight, although 'aaaaggghh',
'yeaaahhhh' and 'oooohhh' aren't the most elegant words in the English
vocabulary. But I was doing a great job on his cock. I really loved that
piece of meat. Of course, Pat was so much more than that and I loved him
more than I had loved anyone before. Not for his body (even though it's
obviously quite a feature), but for his warm, witty and intelligent
personality. Yes, you've read it correctly, I loved Pat for who he was and
not for how he looked. That said, I did develop a special bond with that
cock of his. I knew that penis inside out, I knew every sensitive spot of
it, I knew exactly how to make Pat cum, I knew what to do if I wanted a
quick one and I knew what to do if I wanted it to last for hours. This time
the object of my action was to get him to cum as soon as possible. Usually
I wanted it to last a lot longer than that, but I've just explained the
special nature of this particular act of love. As I focused on his most
sensitive area between the cockhead and the shaft, I could feel him
reaching his climax and just as I expected he shot his load of love juice
into my mouth. I took it all in, swallowed it quickly and made sure I got
every last drop out of it.

Now it was my turn. I stood up again, still pushing him up to the wall,
kissed him again, while my hands started caressing his butt. While
whispering sweet words into his ear I gently guided him towards the
bed. Once there, I gently pushed him onto the bed and then asked him to
turn around on his stomach. He soon realised what I wanted to do and, as
predicted, did exactly what I asked him to do. Now on his stomach, Pat's
arse was in perfect position for me to finally satisfy my needs. First, I
helped him getting out of his pants and underwear which were still hanging
around his ankles. I didn't bother with the other clothes, they were not
essential. But pants and underwear had to come off completely so Pat could
spread his legs beautifully for me to enter. I pulled my own pants down
just far enough to expose my painfully itching cock. It had been like that
for hours. I got on top of my gorgeous lover, positioned my cock at his
arse hole and pushed my way in. Not in the gentle and slow manner I was
used to, but more quickly and vigorously.

Once fully in, I thrusted my cock in and out of his lovely arse. It didn't
take me long to reach the point of no return. Cum had been building up for
hours now and was urging to get out. Gush after gush of my hot sperm filled
Pat's guts. It just kept coming until finally there didn't seem to be any
more and my cock went limp. After I pulled out, I could finally relax and
just collapsed next to Pat on the bed.

"Woow, that was amazing. What have I done to deserve that ?", Pat said
after a while.

"Being yourself, I guess", I answered and I pulled him closer for another
round.


Final Part : The One Where Everything Falls Apart


I never suspected Pat would ever find out about the evening in Mark
Philippoussis' hotel room, where I'd had sex with both Mark and Jan-Michael
Gambill, nor about the day Tommy Haas fucked the hell out of me.

And then, a few weeks later, Pat won the US Open again. He was very happen
to have proven to the world that he is not a 'One Slam Wonder', as some had
called him. And of course, it seemed only fitting the whole thing was
celebrated with a big party we organised in a private home in New York. I
must admit I felt a bit sorry for Mark, but I was very proud of Pat for the
way he had handled himself throughout the tournament.

The party should have been a climax of Pat's achievements and of our
happiness together as a couple. Pat and I knew each other more than six
months by then and we have never been closer than at that time. But the
devil turns up when you least expect him and this time he came to the
party. And his name was Jan-Michael Gambill.

I was a bit surprised to see him at the party and felt uncomfortable about
his presence. But after a while I was having such a good time and hardly
noticed him. And later that evening, I couldn't find him at all. I figured
he had left and then started looking for Pat who I hadn't seen in a
while. I couldn't find Pat either. I asked around and was very disturbed
when someone said he had seen Pat going upstairs with Jan-Michael. I was
even more concerned when I learned this happened over half an hour ago. And
they still hadn't come down.

I was worried, I panicked and ran upstairs to find them. My worst nightmare
came true when I opened one of the bedroom doors. Pat lay naked on a bed,
having his cock sucked by Jan-Michael. I couldn't move, my whole world
collapsed. Pat looked at me, cold and full of anger. I knew what had
happened. In an effort to get his hands on Pat, Jan-Michael had told him
about the night we spent together with Mark. Pat, obviously upset, thus
became a willing pray for Gambill. I closed the door, never said a word and
just left.

And so now, I'm back in Belgium, doing what I did before I met Pat back in
February 1998. My life's a mess, and I made it that way. No more tennis, no
more Pat. I've never heard from him since. I've got a boring office-job and
little else to show for myself. I've never felt so empty in my life. The
worst moments are when I see Pat on television. I still can't believe that
I ever let a beautiful, warm human being like him escape. I still can't
believe that I gave it all up for some meaningless sex. If only I could do
it all over again, things would be different.

Or would they ?

THE END

Comments are welcome at: mikec@freemail.nl