The Road Back to Australia
So two days later, on a hot afternoon in August, Chris and I, Brad, Jack, and Stuart sat in the stands to watch Goran and Tomasso in the US Open final. We wanted Goran to win but at the same time, we wanted both of them to win. I felt like a child who wants everything. But this was a competition. Someone has to lose.
We drank lemonade and our noses got sunburned. We cheered every point, no matter who won it. These two guys. So beautiful. Just as human beings. I think I had a crush on Tomasso. Does it show? Chris knew I did. He made fun of me all the time for it.
It was close. Fuck was it close. It seems these guys in my life are, as tennis players, so evenly matched that at any given time, any one of the three of them could win it all. It was crazy and agonizing. In the fifth set, like so many fifth sets between these guys, all it took was one tiny hesitation, miscalculation, muscle spasm, skipped heartbeat, whatever the fuck.
Tomasso, who had returned a serve and hit the net, realized he lost and walked over to Goran, who was staring at him as with a startled expression. Tomasso got down on one knee and started to applaud. How fucking classy is that? Goran pulled him up and they had a long hug and I could tell they were saying things to each other. Later, he said Tomasso had told him that Goran was the best male tennis player in the world and he only had to believe it.
And you know what? I knew Tomasso was right. Oh you think I'm being disloyal, do you? Well listen. When Chris was in the bath after he lost to Tomasso, and I was rubbing his back, he said, really quietly, “You know, Michael...I'm a really good tennis player. I know that. But Goran...he's just hitting his stride. He's going to win everything. I can just tell. And I don't want to do this very much longer. I'm already tired.” He had turned to me with this really serious expression on his face. “I want to play the Australian in January and then I want to get the fuck out of playing tennis. Is that all right? Would you judge me?”
I felt like crying and not because he was thinking of quitting, but because I just was. There was a lot of feeling in the room. “I will never judge you, Chris. If you want to quit, then quit. I will be with you no matter what you do.”
Now I was crying more and so was Chris. He got out of the bath and we held on to each other, just feeling each other's heartbeats.
--
After the Open, we got possession of our place in Connecticut in the middle of September. We had stayed in Brooklyn, just hanging around and looking at furniture. We drove up and enjoyed the start of autumn colours, the gentle hills and then the tree-lined drive to the house. I was slightly amazed it was ours.
It was empty of course, but we started imagining what it might be like to live there. We sat in the middle of the living room on the old hardwood floor and Chris said, “I want to marry you here.”
I took his hand and kissed it. “That's fantastic!” I was grinning at him like an idiot, but I noticed his light blue eyes were a bit blurry and his almost white lashes glinting in the light from the windows. I said, quite seriously, “I will marry you here, Chris.” And then I kissed him for a while. Then smiling, I said, “But I guess we need to buy a few things, huh?” He laughed and we fucked on the floor of our new house, and I got splinters in my ass.
Goran and Tomasso had stayed in New York and we went out for some nice meals and spent some time being relaxed and Chris, Goran and Tomasso could just be friends again without the complications of competition.
The night before Tomasso went back to Italy we went to a swanky place in Brooklyn. Goran told us things with Ravi were a bit tense since Ravi was being ambivalent about moving in with him. And it seemed to Goran that his matches were more of an inconvenience to Ravi rather than something he wanted to share and celebrate. The US Open was a good example for Goran. Ravi had to teach, so he sent Goran to New York on his own, and he was both celebrating having won and feeling sad that the person he most wanted to celebrate with was not there. Tomasso raised his glass of wine. “We will celebrate you, Goran.”
The next Saturday I invited Jack and Stuart over for dinner. I was almost nervous to introduce them to Goran for some reason and I'm sure part of it was knowing that Goran was very interested in what was in Jack's pants. Who wouldn't be?
Nevertheless, the evening was great and well-behaved. Goran was charming as always and Jack and Stuart seemed interested and curious, wanting to know about Eastern Europe. Stuart was a little stage-struck and shyly said, “Goran...I love watching you play. I wish I could have had half the finesse you seem to have.” I looked at Goran, remembering my conversations with Tomasso and Chris. Then I looked at Chris and, just then, he took my hand under the table and gripped it. He had a nice easy smile on his face. “He's right, Goran. You have this thing...it's kind of magical.”
Goran looked very embarrassed. “Stop it, you. You play as well as I do.”
Now Chris looked serious. He reached for Goran's hand. “Goran...you are just hitting your stride. You are getting better and better. I can't speak for Tomasso, but I have to work so hard to keep this up and keep up to you. And yeah, I still win sometimes, but I get the sense that you could do this in your sleep. You're only going to get better.” I could tell that Chris was going to make his announcement. He gripped my hand more tightly. “And after Australia...I'm going to retire.”
There was silence in the room, just the ticking of an old clock that hung on the wall behind us. Stuart finally said, “But...”
Chris cut him off. “No, Stuart. Thanks for what you were about to say. But as much as I love tennis, this life is too hard. It's hard on my body, it's hard on Michael...it's just hard. I want to do something else. Something that doesn't feel so fucking intense all the time.”
Goran was looking thoughtful. “You know, Chris. I think I understand, but it makes me sad. You are a genius on the court. That match you had with Tomasso...that was the best tennis I have ever seen. You two are poets when you play. I will be sad to not see that again.”
Chris was getting pretty teary and he took Goran's hand again. “Thanks Goran. But I have to do this.”
I made a mental note to talk with Tomasso. I wanted his take on how he and Chris had played and what it meant.
The rest of the dinner gradually grew less serious and we all got a little drunk. Goran was still jet-lagged, so Jack and Stuart went home and we put Goran into one of the other rooms so he could just sleep.
In bed, I asked Chris how it was to tell Goran about retiring. “It was actually really good. I wanted him to be the first to know – after you of course – and he reaction felt right. I am a little sad about it, but at the same time it feels right.”
I held him close and we didn't fuck. It felt like there was too much emotion in us to have room for anything else.
The next day, Jack texted me and suggested we come to his place for lunch. Stuart had to teach, so he was on his own and wanted company. When Goran got up we told him we were going to see Jack for lunch. His eyes widened. “Oh, I am very interested in meeting Jack.”
Chris swatted him on the ass. “Settle down. It's just lunch.”
But in the back of my head I did wonder. How could you not?
It was a balmy late-September day and we were on Jack's terrace. I couldn't help remembering the last time I had been there with Stuart. I had told Chris about it while we fucked one day which was fun as hell, but right now it was a little distracting. Chris, of course, knew what I was thinking about and he gave me a sly grin.
Lunch was nice and Goran and Jack seemed to get along really well. We drank wine and told stories. Goran was very interested to hear that Jack had been a tennis player as well. He asked him the obvious question. “Why did you stop playing?”
Jack had learned some things, because he wasn't phased by the question. “I got married instead. It's a long story. But now I'm here with Stuart.”
Goran was musing about this, I could tell. I went in to use the washroom and when I came out, Jack was standing in the hall as if he was waiting for me. He looked excited. “Goran is fucking hot, Michael. I just have to say that. I'm envious that you two seem to have an open ticket into his pants.”
I laughed and grabbed his crotch. “Settle down there. He's more than just a fuck to us. He's our best friend.”
Jack looked chastened. But still excited. I couldn't help but give Jack's package a stroke or two through his jeans. I felt all that muscular cock start to swell. Fuck. I wanted to get on my knees. I was just considering this, when Goran appeared, as if he had snuck up on us. I could see Chris right behind him, grinning his fool head off. Goran said, “Whatever you two are considering, I want to be a part of it.”
Goran moved right up to Jack and took his face in his hands and their mouths met with a lot of energy. Chris came over to me and pulled off my shirt. He said, “Well, we might as well get rid of the clothes.”
I had to agree. Once Chris and I were naked, we got on our knees and I went for Jack's pants and Chris for Goran's. Soon we had two lovely cocks to suck and we did just that. Jack's massive tool was becoming familiar to me and I spent some time doing a little worship, licking it all over the place and sucking on the end. Chris had Goran deep in his throat, but I glanced up and Goran was watching me. I decided to get up and I said, “Let's find the bed.”
We all piled onto Jack's bed and I let Goran do what I knew he wanted to do. He got between Jack's legs and started to explore his prick. Goran moaned when he pulled Jack's big dick in his mouth, gagging himself on it. Jack got all dominant and flipped him over and started to fuck Goran's face and I could tell that is exactly what Goran wanted.
Chris and I, seeing the opportunity, started to share Goran's cock between us, slobbering all over it, and kissing the head and each other, tasting a bunch of precum. I glanced up and all I could see was Jack's meaty ass and his balls hanging down and his cock buried deep in Goran's face. I reached up and grabbed Jack's balls, giving them a tug.
But Goran pushed Jack off him and, with a big grin on his wet face, said, “I want him to fuck me. I've wanted it for a while.”
Jack looked pleased. “I guess word travels...”
Chris and I let go of Goran's cock and Jack got into position between Goran's muscular legs with all their black hair. Jack's face was sweaty and his brown waves were hanging in his eyes, all cute and preppy looking. Some prep he was.
He took his big dick in his hand and poured lube on it, giving it a stroke. He said, “You want my fucking cock, Goran?”
Goran, I could tell, was beside himself. He just nodded, stroking his own dick really slowly. Jack pushed his legs apart and with some effort from his hips and a lot of noise from Goran, he powered his way into Goran's ass. Goran didn't stop him, or slow him down but I could tell from his face that he was riding that bus to almost too much. I knew that feeling.
But he grabbed Jack's firm white butt and pulled and Jack went with it. Chris and I were just watching, hypnotized by all the intensity. After a minute, Chris pushed me down on my stomach so my ass was exposed. He slapped it a few times – which I love – then, his cock all slippery, started to fuck me. I turned my head so I could watch Jack's cock ream Goran, whose asshole looked stretched. Jack's balls were slapping against Goran's butt cheeks and I could hear Goran's voice. It was a kind of moaning sound I hadn't heard before.
Chris was mashing me into the bed, fucking really hard. We were both so turned on by watching these two guys fuck.
Jack was like a fucking pile-driver and I wished I could kiss Goran, or feed him a cock or two, but Chris was busy with taking me really hard. He pulled me up so I was on my hands and knees so he could slam into me harder. I held my cock as if I was afraid it would explode.
After a while of this, I heard Jack start to swear and I looked over just as he thrust really hard and then hauled back and his cock slipped out of Goran's ass, still spewing cum, which ran all over Goran's hole and drizzled onto the bed. He jerked his cock a few times, that pushed it back in with a bunch of his cum. Chris pulled off me, pumping his cock really hard and did something fun, and jerked a big load all over Jack's cock and balls when he pulled out of Goran, mixing his cum with Jack's, then pushed it all back in again. Goran's hole was covered in cum and when Jack pulled out, cum kept drooling out of him.
We both moved over and started to clean it all up, sucking Jack's cock, tonguing Goran's ass, tasting his balls, and enjoying all that cum.
I finally leaned back and swallowed all the goodness. Jack was lying there watching me, so I pumped a few big ropes of cum all over his cock and Chris, not to be outdone, pushed his ass down on Jack's cock, filling him with that cock and my cum with a low growl. Chris finally pulled himself off and collapsed on the bed.
I started to laugh. “You guys! That was so fucking fun!”
Goran sat up and gave me a long, sticky kiss, then did the same to the other two. He said, “Yes, it sure as hell was.” He turned back to Jack and kissed him for a while, then said, “My ass is sore, but thanks. That was really great.”
Jack looked proud. I'm so glad he was now proud of the pleasure he could give people. And by people, I meant us. Chris took Jack's cock in his mouth and cleaned the last of the cum off it, then fell back on the bed. We all rested a while. I lay there, enjoying the warmth of these guys, how much I loved them all.
I finally said, “We're planning the wedding. We don't have a date, but it will be soon.”
Goran said, “It will be so nice to do it in your new house. But I think we have some shopping to do? You don't even have a bed, is that right?”
Chris laughed and kissed Goran. “Soon.”
--
Shortly after Goran went back to Spain, Chris and I were in a furniture store in Brooklyn when I suddenly had a thought. “What if we get married right after Wimbledon? I had wondered about March, but if we have it here, the weather will be crap.”
Chris was thoughtful and I waited, since this was his thing. “That's perfect. And I get the feeling Tomasso is going to retire right after that, so we'll all be free except Goran.” He looked very pleased and any anxiety I had about him not wanting to get married because of some half-baked political position or something that – at least to me – felt a bit adolescent, faded away.
But for now, he had the Australian Open to prepare for. We got back to Barcelona and just as he did every time, Chris went into full-on preparations. Even though it was his last Major and probably his last tournament. I was a tennis widow again that fall, but spent my time working on my table, with Marco's help. It was way less stressful than worrying about tennis.
We planned a nice Spanish Christmas at Goran's place in the country and Ravi convinced Anika to come and even though they were Hindu, they both liked any excuse for a celebration. We even convinced Tomasso to come but, sadly, Maya was in Boston with her family, so she wouldn't be there.
Christmas dinner was peaceful and warm, with lots of food and felt just the way Christmas is supposed to feel. We all got a little drunk and ate way too much. After a few hours, Goran and Ravi went to bed and I had felt tension between them the whole night. Anika finally faded away a bit later. I think she had a little crush on Tomasso – who wouldn't? - but it was clear that she was too drunk to do anything about it. She kissed us all warmly and staggered upstairs.
Chris and I were leaning against each other on one of the sofas and Tomasso was sitting on the floor in front of the fire. I felt really mellow, but I also felt that Tomasso was wanting to talk to us. He finally turned and said, “Chris...I'm sad you're leaving tennis.”
He sat up. “Me, too. Goran told you?”
“He did. I hope that's all right.”
“Oh, I don't mind that. I wanted you to know. I would have told you tonight if he hadn't.”
Tomasso nodded. “But I understand. More than you think. I am tired of all the work. I want to do something else.” He looked at me and smiled. “I hear you are learning to build furniture.”
That felt nice. “I am. I love it and it doesn't stress me out like tennis did.”
Then Tomasso said the thing that I already knew to be true. “And Goran. He is going to be the best. He has that gift.”
Chris and I both nodded. It was obvious to us now. Chris finally said, “So when will you quit?”
“I don't know. Perhaps after Wimbledon? I'm not sure. In some ways it doesn't matter. I just want it to end at some point soon.”
We were silent for a while, just watching the fire. Then Tomasso turned and looked at us with a look that I recognized from the last time the three of us were together. He cleared his throat as if he was about to give a speech. “I wonder if I can make another exception?”
Chris got a slow, devilish smile on his face. “You can. What would you like?”
I was getting really excited, but I waited. Tomasso looked at the fire a moment, then he said, to my utter amazement, looking at me, “I want to fuck Michael. Can I do that, Chris? And I want you to watch.”
Chris was clearly beside himself with excitement. It was radiating off his pale skin, off his desert blond hair. He got up and walked over to Tomasso and extended his hand. “Yes. You most certainly can.” He led us upstairs to our bedroom.
The prospect of Tomasso fucking me and of Chris watching us almost blew my circuits. We were standing by the bed and both Tomasso and Chris started to take my clothes off. Chris unbuttoned my shirt and Tomasso undid my pants and carefully slid them down so I could step out of them. My cock was poking out of my briefs and Chris pulled them off. It felt really amazing to be naked while these two guys were in their clothes.
Then I watched as Tomasso slowly, almost ritualistically, take Chris' pants off, then his shirt and then, even more slowly as if he was revealing a work of art, he pulled Chris' briefs down his muscular legs. I added it to the list of insanely erotic things I had seen Tomasso do.
Tomasso turned to me and gave me one of those kisses – remember those? - that was slow and so and sensual, that I felt myself melting into him. I wasn't sure what I had done to deserve this but it was up there with the most exciting moments of my life. It reminded me of the first time Chris kissed me. Ok, that was the most exciting, but you get the idea.
He leaned back and smiled at me. “Get on the bed, Michael. I want to look at you.”
Again with the witch-like ability to send me with just words. I got on the bed and lay down. He got beside me and moved his hand over my chest, then down to my waist, caressing my thigh then back up the other side. His fingers trailed over my nipples then lightly over my belly to my cock. He ran his hand lightly over the surface of it, then my balls, then back up. It felt like he had never touched a man before. I knew it wasn't true, but it felt like I was the first man he had ever touched.
My whole body shuddered and he looked up into my face, still smiling. He moved his face close to me and we kissed very slowly – our lips gently moving against each other, our tongues entwining and circling. Fuck. It was almost painfully amazing.
I felt his hand slide down and grip my cock. He didn't move, just gripped it. “I like your cock, Michael. I'm almost never interested in anyone's but my own, but yours...is delectable.” It was not a word I expected, but it felt amazing to hear him say it.
Chris was on the other side of me with some lube and Tomasso said, “Why don't you use that on your husband?”
He laughed and said, “We're not married yet.”
“But you might as well be.”
I knew what he meant: It did feel that way already. I said, looking at Chris with a big smile. “Yes, we are.”
Chris knelt down and spread my legs a bit and with lubed fingers, began to slide them into my ass, circling and stretching, squeezing more lube and going deeper. It felt like a different kind of fuck, more gentle and careful but it was driving me crazy. Tomasso and I ran our fingers over my cock lightly, just trailing them over the surface, teasing. A big drop of precum appeared on the head of my cock and Tomasso surprised me by gently running his tongue over the surface, a long trail of shiny liquid handing from it. He brought it to me and let it slip into my mouth. In that moment I almost came.
After kissing me, he turned to Chris. “Take my clothes off.” Chris, with a little smile, undid Tomasso's pants and gently pulled them down, then his boxer briefs, sliding them over Tomasso's muscled legs, revealing his trimmed bush, his semi-hard cock, his heavy balls. I could tell Chris wanted to get in there and do some exploring. He got the lube and poured some on Tomasso, who gasped when Chris gripped his cock, spreading the lube from top to bottom. Tomasso's cock was a beautiful thing and Chris agreed, because he bent down an sucked on the end, collecting some juice.
I finally said, “How do you want me?”
Tomasso turned and smiled. “Get in my lap.” First he slid back so he was leaning at the head of the bed. He cock was rigid and wet and he was stroking it slowly. I positioned my myself over Tomasso's shiny dick. He held my hips as I brought myself down, feeling the head push against me, slip in, then with the slowest fuck imaginable, I sat down on his cock until my ass met his body. He shifted himself so he was leaning back and he raised his hips so he could pull me close to him and still fuck me. He wrapped his arms around my torso and pulled me closer and our mouths just met and at the same time I felt him circle his hips and his cock slid deep, then out again, but always in that slow motion way that he had.
We started to kiss, our mouths exploring, our tongues in some kind of complex dance and whatever thoughts I had disappeared as I lifted myself and slowly pushed down and he thrust up and this little dance of ours was repeated and repeated, and our kisses went on and on. I felt almost stoned. I was aware of Chris' hand stroking my back, running through my hair, then I felt his tongue exploring where Tomasso's cock met my hole.
I watched as he moved and sat down beside Tomasso, stroking his dick in time with our fucking, smiling at us. I knew he liked to watch and this was a show that was clearly one of the best. He liked to watch me being taken, and fuck was I being taken. I was being fucked by a beautiful man and in some ways it was all for Chris' benefit.
I turned back to Tomasso and our mouths met again as if they were magnets. He started to give me shorter, deeper, slower kisses, moving ever so slightly back, then forward, doing it again and again. We must have done it twenty times while his cock moved and stretched and I put my thighs to work, lifting myself and pushing my ass down onto him. He would push up at the same times, his fucking amazing cock seeming to go deeper every time.
I stared into his green? - blue? - Eyes which never left mine. They seemed huge. Very slowly, I realized he was moving a little faster and our kissing became more intense, if that was possible. My own cock was moving below me, sliding against Tomasso's smooth, muscular torso, rubbing against his pecs, occasionally brushing one of his nipples when I raised myself up. I ran my hands over his shoulders and down his arms but I was afraid to touch my dick in case I set off an explosion.
With more power, he fucked up and I pushed down and even though our kisses kept going, I could feel his breathing getting deeper and his whole body was trembling a little – and so was mine. Then he pulled his head back, mid-kiss, and, still looking at me, said, “You are so fucking sexy...” and he shut his eyes and tightened his grip around my body. I could feel him trembling and still fucking, but I knew he was pouring cum into me. It took him what seemed like an hour to cum, but eventually he opened his eyes and smiled at me. With a kiss he said, “I want to watch Chris fuck you now.”
I was insane with lust and I pulled myself off and sat down beside him, my legs apart and Chris got between them and pushed into me, into all Tomasso's cum, and a little less carefully, fucked me deep, his blue eyes seeing me, and I knew he always would.
Not being able to stand it any more, I took my cock in my hand and stroked a few times, which is all it took. Cum rocketed out of me, splashing all over my chest in big pools. Seeing this seemed to set Chris off and his cock dug deeper and he groaned and stopped moving. I imagined his cock pulsing in me, adding to a lake of cum already there.
He fell onto me and spread my cum all over his own chest. We were both just breathing. I finally looked over at Tomasso who was actually grinning at us. “You two are so cute.”
I burst out laughing and the spell was broken. Tomasso leaned over and the three of us had a nice kiss. I finally said, “Do you want to join in us in the shower?” He grinned some more and nodded. A nice Christmas shower in a quiet house with two beautiful guys. What better Christmas present could there be? My ass was sore, but that's the price of pleasure, right?
