Endings Are Just Beginnings
So what led up to our wedding? Well, we need to draw a line from previous Christmas night in Goran's house, to the moment when Chris and I stood and looked at each other and agreed that what we were to each other already, was what we would always be and was solemnified on a bright morning in June in front of all the people we loved.
Make sense? If not, then listen.
After that transcendental fuck with Tomasso, we had a nice, long shower. He was all affectionate and a little embarrassed, frankly. I think he surprised himself by wanting to fuck me. But it didn't change the fact that he loved it, and I loved it and Chris loved it. So much love!
But after that night, Tomasso went home and Chris and Goran went into full tournament mode. Then we all made our way to Australia and settled in for a few weeks of intense activity. Brad came as well, so at least I had a familiar face when everyone else was busy, and I got to hang out with Maya who came over with Tomasso.
During the course of the Open, she and I spent a bunch of time together, and compared notes about Boston. It turned out she knew of my dad, since her dad moved in similar circles. I asked her why she left the States.
She laughed. “Why wouldn't you? Italy may be chaos and corrupt, but at least they're open about it. Americans have this fantasy that they have this ideal, just system based on equality, but obviously that's crap. Money talks and it's everyone for themselves. And Italy may be a mess, but people who need help are taken care of. And besides, they have the best food in the world.”
She looked almost angry about the US and I could understand why. I said, “I get it. Maybe that's why we spend most of our time in Barcelona now.”
“Right? How is your house, anyway? I want to see it. Tomasso says it's all Architectural Digest or something.”
“I don't know about that...but we like it. After this season, you two should come and stay.”
I was wondering how much she knew about what Tomasso had got up to at Christmas. I knew they were open, but I wondered if she knew Tomasso dallied with men occasionally. She smiled at me and said, “That sounds lovely.” She paused and then I knew she knew. “And whatever you guys did at Christmas. Well...Tomasso was all over me afterward. He said he was inspired by hanging out with you, and knowing Tomasso, I think that means you three got really intimate?”
I knew I was blushing, but I nodded my head. “Yeah. We did. I hope that's all right.”
She laughed happily and rubbed my arm, as if I needed comfort. “Oh, of course. He and I have worked all that out. If one or both of you ever want a repeat, just ask him.”
That was interesting. I guess we made an impression on him that re-set his gay/straight ratio a little.
But I could see why Tomasso was into her. She was smart and beautiful but totally grounded. I could imagine her keeping his feet on the floor at times when he wanted to float off into sensual space.
--
The next morning while I drank a bunch of coffee, I had a look at the draws again to see how the tournament would play out. I realized that if things went the way they should, Chris would meet Tomasso in the semi's and play Goran, who was seeded number one, in the final. That both excited me and scared me. I really wanted both to win – all three of them, really - and I was remembering what Tomasso had said; that Goran was going to be the best. But would that be now?
The Asshole American wasn't there. We weren't sure why, but he wasn't. Chris played the French kid in the quarters and wore him down again. That kid needed to work on his stamina. But he was sweet and a little star-struck by Chris. I even fantasized he had a crush on him, which, in a bro kind of way he probably did. Goran made it through the first four rounds, as did Tomasso.
The three other quarter-final matches were uneventful and Chris and Tomasso, and Goran and the angry Russian emerged to play the semi's. Chris and Tomasso gave another master class on how to play tennis perfectly. And I had this crazy idea that the three of us were having sex in a weird sort of way with me in the stands and he and Chris on the court. But Tomasso wasn't quite on form that day and he lost to Chris in four sets. He smiled broadly, nevertheless and kissed Chris and they walked off the court together. I fantasized that they would fuck in the showers. I was a little sex deprived, so don't judge me.
Goran played the angry Russian and as usual, he was angry. He seemed especially angry to be playing Goran for some reason. But Goran wore him down and made him run around the court while he watched and beat him in four sets.
Two days later, these two guy, both of whom I loved, played again and for the last time. As always with them, it was a long match with no sense of who would win. Neither of them made any big errors and in the fifth set it seemed either one of them could win. Right up until the end. Because there is always an end, right? No matter how much we want things to continue, at some point something happens and Schroedinger's cat shows up and says hello. But until then you are in suspense. So be in suspense.
When the match was finished and the press did what the press does, Chris and Goran emerged from the Melbourne Park complex. Ravi was still in Spain, not being able to get away. I think Goran was really annoyed by that, but he didn't say anything. Goran said to us, “Come to my place tonight. I want to be with you two.”
Brad drove us to the house Goran had rented and left us there. We didn't say much to each other. There was too much to say, after all. Goran poured us some drinks and we sat outside on the second floor deck and looked at the stars. Then I turned to them both because I could tell they were feeling a lot. “You two...come to bed with me. Let's do what we always do, which is enjoy each other.”
In Goran's bedroom, I made them stand there while I took their clothes off. I started with Goran's shirt, which I slid up and over his head. His chest was as lovely as ever and I spent some time licked his nipples and kissing all over the place, down his flat stomach and I undid his shorts and pulled them down. His cock was sticking out of his white briefs and the contrast between the dark hair on his chest and legs was amazing. I pulled his briefs off, but then Chris took hold of Goran's cock and they started to kiss while I pulled Chris' shorts down and he stepped out of them.
These two guys were so similar and so different. The difference at this moment was Goran's dark hair around his cock and Chris' light, pale fuzz but there were so many others – on and off the court.
I pulled the two cocks together and licked them from top to bottom. I glanced up and their mouths were all over each other, in a slow, almost careful way, as if they were afraid they would hurt each other.
I got up and joined them, the three of us trading tongues and kisses between us as I shucked my clothes. I moved around them and got on the bed and with a smile, I said, “I want to watch you fuck each other.”
Goran gave me a slow smile and pushed Chris down on the bed. I lubed up my almost-husband, and Chris turned over and started to carefully lick my cock as Goran got on top of him, running his dick in between Chris strong, white ass cheeks. Goran's cock looked almost tanned in contrast to the white of Chris' meaty ass. He leaned forward and I watched his cock disappear into Chris, who moaned into my cock. Goran held himself up on his forearms and took some long deep fucks into Chris.
I watched Goran go deep, slide out, and then go deeper, with so much intensity. Chris turned and they managed to kiss then I leaned forward and let my cock slide into Goran's mouth. I caressed his face and scalp; his dark hair was getting sweaty, his muscular back had a sheen of moisture on it. I pulled out of his mouth and got behind him and started to kiss and lick his incredible ass, running my tongue between those powerful muscles, matching his thrusts into Chris. I went deeper and let his balls drag over my tongue.
He stopped after a few minutes and pulled out. His cock was glistening. He said, “I want Chris to fuck me now.”
They switched position, but Goran was on his back and Chris almost hugged Goran's legs and slid his cock into him. Goran made some moaning sounds, and I moved back so my prick was right by his mouth. I squeezed it so a long glob of precum oozed out and into his open mouth, followed by my cock. The whole scene was like a slow burn for me and I knew that if I kept this up, I would pump cum into Goran's mouth, so I pulled out and watched these two athletes work.
Chris was gentle, but fucked deep, his eyes never leaving Goran's who was slowly stroking himself. I decided to join, so I got behind Chris and held him still long enough for me to push myself into his already slippery ass. He groaned and kept fucking.
We kept this up for a while, changing positions and combinations and it all felt close and intimate and warm. Finally, these two champions fucked each other, each taking a load of cum from the other, and then I came in Chris' ass, feeling like I was going to burst into flames. I pulled out and Goran cleaned my cock, then we lay together, kissing.
We were still and didn't say anything, thinking about what had just happened between us, but also what happened earlier on the court. A lot had happened.
--
We flew back to Spain together: Chris, myself, Goran and Brad. We all slept most of the way and then, back in our respective houses, slept some more. Brad stayed with us for a few days, recovering, then flew home to be with Seamus and their daughter who he missed all the time.
We didn't hear from Goran for a while, which was strange and I got the sense that something was wrong. A little over a week after we came back, Chris and I were hanging out on our rooftop retreat and Goran appeared at the top of the stairs. He looked tired and annoyed. He threw himself onto one of the lounge chairs and said, “Well, we broke up.”
I knew that something like that had happened. Apparently the separations were too much for Ravi. Poor guy. Poor both of them. Goran didn't blame him, but he was still pissed. At the situation more than anything. We made dinner for him and asked if he wanted to stay, but he said he wanted to be alone. But he kissed us warmly, and got in his car. I imagined him sitting by his pool figuring things out, looking at the amazing view, enjoying the night air. I knew he would be fine.
I whatsapped Anika and she already had talked to Ravi. She said he was torn up but resolute. That sucked. I got the sense she was on Goran's side. She couldn't understand why her cousin couldn't just go with it. She and I had a nice talk and not for the first time, I wished she lived nearby. She was coming to Europe in March so I could look forward to that.
So now Chris had time on his hands for the first time in a very long time. He didn't need to keep training. He didn't need to do anything. I went back to trying to get better at making furniture and we rented a work space for me so I could swear undisturbed. It felt really good to be using my hands and creating things that – in some cases – I was proud of. Marco was pleased with my aptitude and came to see my studio. He was jealous, but when I told him he could use it whenever, he wanted to fuck me he was so happy. I decided that needed to stop. Sexy dude, but in the end, a little too much.
In early March, Chris and Goran began to talk about starting a tennis school in Barcelona. There were already a few, but certainly not one run by two top seeds. Between the three of us we had enough money to back a really good one. We decided to call it CGM Tennis. Not very inspired but it kind of says it all.
Then we sent out wedding invitations. We found the middle point between Wimbledon and the US Open so as many of our tennis friends could come as possible. Chris and I spent hours planning it. Not so much because it would be lavish or complicated, but because we wanted it to be a celebration of us, and just as much, of our friends. It had to express who we all were, not just Chris and I.
Since it was going to be at our house in Beacon Falls, we hired Seamus and Brad to be the US organizers. They wanted to do it for free, but we had to pay them because it was going to be a lot of work. You know, the billion things that need to be planned for an outdoor wedding for a hundred or so people, including really good food.
So, yeah, I'm clearly avoiding the Australian Open, aren't I. That's where so much of this is headed, right?
But first I'll tell you about the French Open that followed. Going to a Grand Slam with Chris, where we both could be spectators at last? That was a trip for both of us. We kept expecting someone to come and say, Chris, what are you doing, you're playing now. But we got over it.
It had been a bit rainy in Paris, but once play started, the skies cleared and everything got going as it should. Goran made it to the finals. Tomasso lost in the semi's to the Russian dude who, apparently, was less angry and actually friendly. Afterward, Tomasso asked him why he was so much nicer. The guy looked embarrassed but said he and his wife had just had a kid and he was happier. Apparently he apologized for being a shit.
Goran barely broke a sweat when he beat him in the final, but the Russian guy gave Goran a big hug at the end and kissed him. The crowd went nuts and he and Goran had a great moment holding hands and waving to the screaming crowd.
OK, fine, I'm still avoiding. Now I can relive you of the suspense: When Chris beat Goran in Australia, Goran said it was the final motivation he needed. Not because Chris beat him, but because it crystallized something for him. For now – for the next few years – he wanted to win. And Chris retiring helped him realize it, because Chris, who he loved like a brother, didn't want to win. It was the contrast. Kind of like the one between his dark hair and eyes and Chris' light blue eyes and pale skin.
So yeah, Chris won the Australian Open and retired. Then Goran won the French Open. And then he won Wimbledon by beating Tomasso in the final. And he became the top seed again. One runner up and two wins in the Majors will do that. Much fucking rejoicing.
--
The wedding in Connecticut was on a bright sunny morning in June. We were outside under the huge trees. All the people we loved were there. Everyone. Should I list them? Brad and Seamus with their daughter, Dr. John Dalliwal, Anika, Goran, Jack and Stuart, Tomasso and Maya, Marco, my old neighbour Mark, as well as a whole bunch of other people we knew.
Chris' family was noticeably absent. They did not approve. I sent them – without Chris knowing – an email saying that if they changed their minds at any point, they were welcome to visit us. But I knew they wouldn't.
I don't need to tell you what Chris and I said to each other in front of all those people, do I? It's obvious. Or at least it should be. Love, acceptance, patience...it's all been said before, but each couple has to say it anyway or what's the fucking point? And say it out loud so that all those people that we loved could hear the words and know them to be true and reflect on times when they have – or wanted to – say the same words to someone.
We had a party afterward. It's all about the party, right? That's also the point. There was dancing and general merriment. And I know this has been no rom-com, but a little after midnight when Chris and I were wandering around the yard holding hands, we came around a tree and found Goran and Dr. John in the middle of fucking. We stood watching them go, and I was getting turned on. John was leaning against the tree with his pants down to his ankles and Goran's cock was going deep into his ass. Nice. It was a combination that had never occurred to me but as soon as I saw them, it made sense.
I said, all sweetness, “Oh, John...and Goran...I was wondering where you two were.”
Goran gave us the finger, but he was grinning like an idiot. That made me happy.
--
So this is the part where this little story comes to a close. It's not the end of the stories. No way. There are a lot more. Maybe I'll tell you some of them some day.
Like how Tomasso retired after Goran beat him at Wimbledon and joined our tennis school and he and Maya moved to Barcelona. They live down the street from us. He sometimes comes over on his own and one or both of us has intense sex with him. Well, mostly with me. He has a thing for my ass. And I have a thing for his cock.
Like how Brad and Seamus opened their own tennis school near Boston for little kids, including their daughter who grew up to win the US Open, and was a top seed for a while. She married Tomasso and Maya's son. Very cool.
Like how Anika met this guy in London at a coffee shop – sound familiar? - and within a year had moved to England and married him. What is it with coffee shops? We see her all the time. Her husband is very cool but he won't fuck us. His loss.
Like how Goran won the US Open that year, and eight more Grand Slams and a bunch of other things before retiring to his home in the country. He and John married in Spain and John – having left Boston – opened a practice in Barcelona (and ran through a boatload of regulatory hoops to do it). We see them all the time, and in fact we practically live in each other's houses.
There are a bunch of other stories, of course, because there are always stories. But this one, that started with Chris waking me the up to my life with that first kiss – remember that? - and ending with our marriage in front of so many people we love? That's the story I wanted to tell you.
