Date: Tue, 11 Jul 2006 20:48:34 +0000
From: karl sims <ksim27@hotmail.com>
Subject: Wimble-MEN! 2

Disclaimer:  This story is purely a work of fiction.  I do
not claim to know anything about the sexuality of any of the
celebrities mentioned.
Feel free to e-mail me comments I will do my best to reply.



Roger stepped off centre court feeling very pleased with
himself.  He had proven that he could beat Nadal and had
once again showed himself as the king of the grass court.

He had to talk his way through countless press interviews.
The whole time Roger's eyes kept straying to the winners
board as the process of engraving his name for a fourth
consecutive year began.  Only Bjorn Borg and Pete Samprass
now had more Wimbledon men's singles titles than him.

Also he had kept that Spanish punk away from the Wimbledon
title for at least another year.  But not only had he done
that, he had reaffirmed his position as the Alpha Male of
the world of tennis.

However, there was one thing left to do to drive that
advantage home.  As Roger finally arrived back in the locker
room, he arrived to a locker room full of hot steam.  It was
so misty he could hardly see across to the corner where his
kit bag lay.  He could still hear the running water of the
shower. Roger couldn't help but smile to himself.  He was
worried that he might have missed Rafa...

Roger pulled of his t-shirt.... as he pulled it over his
head he could smell that musky male scent caught within the
fabric.  He had sweated in that shirt and it felt damp.  Now
Roger involuntarily grabbed at his crotch as he approached
the shower area.  He turned the corner and then checked
himself.

He could just see the naked form of Rafael Nadal from the
back. His strong muscular back that broke out into those
round, firm buttocks, which in turn flowed seamlessly into
his taught, tanned, Spanish legs.

The hot water was running down his body, dripping from his
long black locks.  Roger was hard.  His dick was stretching
his jock strap and his tennis shorts.  A large bulge had
developed and Roger was groping himself vigorously.

Rafael was rubbing his hands across his front.  Roger could
tell he was soaping up his firm chest.  He could only
imagine those dark nipples pointing through the soap suds.

As Roger watched through the steam, he slipped his hand into
his shorts.  He was now rubbing at the fabric of his jock
strap.  Roger slipped off his trainers and threw his sports
socks across the room.  Then slipping his thumbs into the
waistband of his shorts he hooked them off.  Now the Swiss
tennis stud was wearing just his straining white jock strap
as he perved on the young Spaniard showering.

Rafael was now clearly soaping up his crotch.  Roger longed
to be able to see.  His wish was granted.  Rafa turned
around.

"Roger" he stammered in slight surprise.... "I did not know
you were in 'ere!"

"Carry on.... I was enjoying the show,"
Roger replied, smiling.  He stepped forward.
Rafael's eyes dropped to Roger's crotch....
they were fixated on the bulge it was
concealing....


Roger was going to enjoy this.....


To be continued.........