Gay Erotic Stories

***The following is a work of fiction*** Safin was so unbelievably pissed. Not only had he endured two days of unbearable summer heat in the semi-finals and finals of the Australian Open, but he ended up losing to Thomas Johansson, the 26-year-old Swede who was supposed to be only a bit player at the Australian Open. In the interview immediately following the match, Safin said, "I did not feel comfortable on the court. He was overpowering me from the baseline, backhand to backhand, which is very unusual for me." Safin, although a good 4 years younger, was much more imposing physically than the Swede. At 6'4" and just under 200 pounds, Marat dwarfed the smaller Swede at the trophy presentation. But this is not about tennis. It is more about what happened after that interview. My name is Drew. I'm an American and was in Australia looking for work, as the job market in the U.S. was not good. I landed a temp job at the tennis tournament, and had been assigned to Safin's locker room for the tournament with instructions to do anything to keep him happy, especially if he lost. Safin apparently is a hotheaded Russian, known to throw tantrums after he loses big matches. All during the tournament, I had fantasized about this guy all week; his huge hands and long fingers could only mean his cock had to be of considerable length, and his muscled butt and sexy mouth looked like they could use a big dick in them. Mine, hopefully. I did not know what to expect as he came storming in. He entered the locker room alone, still sweating profusely from the high temps and heavy play of the match. His sleek, slender upper body glistened as he quickly removed the drenched shirt. Even his Calvin Klein shorts were soaked. There wasn't an ounce of fat on the well-toned and muscular frame of this Russian stud. "Start my shower and get me towels; the soft white ones," Safin barked at me. It was then I decided this guy needed to be taught some manners and some humility. If he was uncomfortable during the match and not able to control anything, this was going to continue for him in the locker room. I knew I could handle him physically, as I was about an inch taller and a good 30 pounds heavier: my weight training would finally pay off. I started his shower and waited till he got in and got together some items I found in the locker room, some tennis balls, leather strips, and thanks to the management some of those oversized bottles of champagne. They must leave them for both of the finalists. Of course, there was some of the Russian’s favorite there also: some vodka. Safin yelled from the shower to get his shampoo from his bag; didn't say please or anything. As I rummaged through his bag I saw a picture of his girlfriend, and to my surprise a rather large dildo. He must have forgotten he had it in there, or he never would have told me to get the shampoo...or did he? I figured I’d take a chance, stripped down to nothing, and jumped into the shower with him. "Want me to do your hair, big fella?" "I thought you'd never get in here," was his reply. “I’ve had my eye on you all tournament. Usually, the officials know when I don’t have my girlfriend with me, to have a guy who can service me. That is partly why I have been so nasty to you. I hope we can make up for lost time now.” I massaged the shampoo onto his short brown hair, and then worked my soapy hands down his amazing body. Those hands that I had noticed were all over me. I made sure his fluff was also given a cleaning. I lathered up a bit more and ran my hands over his now hardening cock and gently stroked him; he moaned loudly. I did the same to his Russian nuts. As the water ran over our bodies, I knelt down and began to devour his giant uncut cock. "I have not shot in two weeks: because of tournament, I can't sap my strength." Safin spoke in somewhat broken English. “That's okay. Marat. I’m going to take care of you tonight.” We got out of the shower and dried each other off. I led him over to the massage table. "I've always wondered what a Russian hottie would be like to fuck around with. Guess I'm going to find out." I centered his body, on his back, on the soft leather table and grabbed his cock, which must have been a good 11 or 12 inches hard and commented on the bruises on his legs. They had been self-inflicted in the semi-final match when Safin repeatedly hit his inner thighs with his racket when he was angry at his play. I rubbed those inner thighs gently and he began to moan. "Marat, I'm going to suck you off and then fuck your Russian butt, and in between I'm going to shove more than that dildo you have in your bag up your tennis tunnel. I want you to beg me to do anything and everything to you. Got it?" Safin just gave me a wide grin and stuck out his thick tongue which I immediately swallowed up and we enjoyed sharing each other’s spit for a good ten minutes. Already he was putty in my hands and he was emitting a load of precum just from the little bit of cock stroking I was doing. He grunted and groaned with each yank up and down on his 'Safin stick'. I sucked that hunk’s nuts, and licked his thick long shaft. Marat moaned in pleasure as I swirled my tongue around the head of his now totally hard dick. I could tell he was going to shoot his load, so I grabbed one of those leather straps and made a makeshift cock ring and ball separator. I tightened just to the point so that it would keep him erect and not allow him to shoot his precious 'tennis tea'. "I once saw a picture of you with an entire tennis ball nestled in your teeth. Think we can do the same with your ass?" I rolled the hard hunk over and elevated his mid section so his hard cock could hang there and I would be able to grab it anytime I wanted. I began to finger his asshole and he let out a yelp when I teased his hot spot. The guy was in super shape for sure, and very flexible. In no time I was deep inside his butt hole with three fingers, but wanted to lube him up before shoving 'Mr. Fuzzyball' in there. I grabbed the two bottles of the champagne, uncorked them and opened the liter of vodka. I took a swig of the bubbly, and spit it down his ass crack. It must have been cool and tingly as he let out a grunt. I did this several times. I rested the long neck of the bottle between his two butt cheeks, slid it down so that the rounded tip of the bottle was even with his perfect pink pucker and slid my finger in and then guided the neck of the bottle in. "Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhoooooooooooooooo…" Marat let out a huge moan. "You like that my Russian friend? Well, there is more to come." To my surprise, I was able to push the bottle in deeper; in fact he was able to take the entire width of the giant champagne bottle, pretty much without flinching. I took the other bottle, held my finger over the opening, shook it vigorously and then pulled the bottle already in his ass out and before the hole could close up, shoved the neck of the second bottle in. The shaken champagne filled his rectum and beyond with a powerful flow of cold alcohol. I pulled his entire body up so that he was literally upside down, removed the second champagne bottle and inserted the vodka and let it drain into him. Gravity pulled the entire liter into his rectum and beyond. Then Safin's body just collapsed on the table. I lifted him up quickly and before he could begin discharging the fine fluid, I removed the vodka bottle and used the tennis ball to form a butt plug. I rolled Marat over onto his back and got on top of him and told him to hold that liquid in. I had heard a guy could get really pretty drunk, pretty quick with an alcohol enema. It turned out to be true. In a very little time Safin was feeling a bit buzzed. He was beginning to cramp up from having to hold the liquid so I removed the tennis ball and let his ass drain. Now it was my turn to have a 'White Russian cocktail'. I removed the leather straps and straddled this hot hunk by getting on top of him in a 69 position and I began to slurp down on his tennis love stick. It was my advantage and I was not going to let him break serve. All it took was one quick finger in his butt and the 'Marat milk, the Safin semen,' started to flow. It was thick, creamy and very salty tasting; it seemed to flow forever. I drained the boy’s cock dry after the 7th shot. Game, set and match. "Ready to be fucked, you horny drunk bastard?" I didn't even let him answer, but quickly swerved my body and got between his long legs, threw them up over my shoulders and inserted my own 12 inches into his well lubed 'love' tunnel. "Oooh yeah, oooooh baby, ooohhh Drew-oooooooo," Marat kept saying over and over and begged me to fuck him harder. Who was I to deny this Russian top gun his wish? I must have fucked Safin for over two hours that first time, and instead of shooting my load up his ass, he wanted to see if he could deep throat my meat. Marat proved as good at that as he was with everything else. By the way, I'm now employed and getting to travel. I am Marat Safin's personal locker attendant.