A Tournament Win

We had moved away from New Jersey over two years ago yet we continued to be invited to our former country club’s annual Fall Event; as participants in the club’s tennis tournament. We had missed two; the first was impossible due to my cardiac surgeries and recovery and last year we declined out of lack of interest in traveling. This year we had initially intended to again decline until the odd coincidence of the tournament being rescheduled from the second weekend of October to the third. My grandson’s first birthday party was scheduled for the Sunday following the Saturday tennis tournament.

It was Kent’s idea to accept spots in the club tournament and I hadn’t any serious objection. He had become decent friends with several of the other members when we were members; young, handsome, rapier wit, athletic, friendly, he was easily adopted into a fairly tough circle when he came into my life. My own friendships at the club were mostly more cursory and usually involved business.

My former boss and his wife (and my current short-term consultancy clients) would also be a part of both my grandson’s and the club’s festivities; that I was looking forward to as a distraction at the club from some of the less interesting prospects for interaction now that I’m retired. We booked courts for Friday for both singles (Kent and I) and for doubles (Kent and I versus one of the best doubles teams we’d known when we lived there) for practice and flew up that Friday morning.

Having treated ourselves to the extra day before and after our planned activity days and having politely declined my son’s, daughter’s, and ex-bosses’ urging that we stay with them, we took time to check into the Ocean Place Resort having treated ourselves. It was there we first saw a stunning man whose interest was naturally captured by Kent and who paid me the compliment of direction his attentions as well.

“Haven’t vee met?” he asked unoriginally with his big muscular hand out to shake and his deep voice seeming to reverberate with his Germanic accent. “Bastian Qist,” he prompted with an expectant smile.

He was of Kent’s height so a bit taller than me; and he was handsome as heck. Mid-forties, impeccably groomed, and with a face worthy of the cover of Inc. Curly blond hair perfectly cut short and styled to give the slightest air of having been mussed. Eyes glacier blue. Square jaw. Broad shoulders and a sturdy grip from a large hand ending what appeared under a sweater to be a very well-developed arm. Enough curly blond chest hair out the V neck of his sweater to give my balls a jolt. Well-developed slab pecs and carved abs apparent through the fitted sweater. Tight narrow waist and thick thighs and calves from the stretches in his skinny jeans. And an impressive mound showing the outline of a fat dick running from the crotch down his right leg.

I did recall and place him when he said his name; but man had he changed … for the better. Kent filled-in the response for me. “Mr. Qist so nice to see you again. I read that you had taken the North America CFO position a year or so ago.”

That’s right, I thought to myself. Kent had shown me the article when the former head of some part of the German auto manufacturer’s European finance organization had been promoted to US CFO. When I knew him he was head of audit; and the organization for which I was CFO being one of their biggest dealers had the fortune of having his regular annual visits a few years in a row. But when I worked with him he was overweight and appeared a typical Biergarten type of German fellow older than his years.

“Mr. Qist. It’s … ” I said and let him shake with Kent.

“Bastian, Allan; we have known one another too long for zee formality!” he corrected me sharply. Then to my charming husband: “May I call you Kent?”

It struck me as the type of thing a condescending man would say to the wife of another man he knew better than that man’s wife he wanted to fuck; and it rubbed me wrong as he maintained his hold on Kent’s hand and his gaze into my husband’s eyes. Call it a hold-over memory of his brusque and demanding demeanor when he visited our dealerships and did proctologic exams of my perfectly-in-order books or call it insecurity in the presence of a younger stud who’d set sites on my man; either way I was determined to break his flow.

“Coincidence meeting you here today. My husbandand I are here for a tennis tournament at the country club we belonged to when we lived here.” Yes I emphasized the “my husband.”

“But of course! I timed my visit so zat I could enjoy zee challenge having been invited myself. And my good luck in doing so is already paying a dividend.” He had finally released Kent’s hand; too late for my liking.

“We must be going Bastian.” I said it brusquely; the way he used to be demanding and assertive before he found a personality … and a killer body. “We have an Uber and a practice court both waiting.”

“I vill be along to zee country club for lunch later. If I am awarded another dividend to see you on zee court … or in zee changing rooms after … I will know my luck is strong! I vill not detain you now.”

“We hope to see you later,” Kent added and followed me already walking to the door.

When we were in the Uber Kent blurted out, “What the living fuck? That guy was a grumpy old herr. He must have been on Queer Eye and had the makeover of makeovers.”

“I don’t recall ever having the impression that he was gay either,” I agreed.

The twenty-something driver joined-in uninvited. “Yo. My ex brother-in-law seemed like the straight arrow. I run into him at a family gathering eight months or a year later and BAM! Here’s this knockout guy who doesn’t look like he could be the same guy who’s my nieces’ dad! Pot belly; GONE! Shaggy hair; looks like he has a personal barber who trimmed his hair that morning. Clothes; GQ all the way. And here’s the kicker: he tells me he always wanted to suck my dick! I was too fuckin’ shocked to deck the queer! Wait. Sorry. I didn’t mean … ”

“To butt into our conversation?” I asked, releasing some of my annoyance with Qist. Fortunately we were at the club and there wasn’t time for more conversation with “Elias.”

“He really didn’t mean … “ Kent said as we walked up the grand entrance stairs; and we both entered laughing because the driver really did mean ...

“I just wonder if he let his queer brother-in-law blow him,” Kent laughed harder. I vaguely noticed the unapproving glance of a stuck-up looking middle-aged member type and grinned broadly in his direction as we made our way to the stairs to the sports level

We played our butts off and really challenged each other. I think we were both ready for the singles the next day. Our plan was to shower and have a light lunch before the doubles we had booked later with two young brothers who could have been pros.

“Ach! My luck is vith me today I see.”

I was completely stripped and Kent was nearly out of his jock strap. “And I do SEE!” he added without concern for the many men with us in the locker room seeing how he ogled us.

Kent faced him after getting the rest of the way naked and held his tantalizingly sweaty jock strap swinging it a bit. His big dick and low-hanging balls were swinging even more tantalizingly.

“Bastian, nice to see you again so soon.”

Bastian looked back and forth several times from Kent’s impressive dick and balls to my scars down my chest. He couldn’t seem to settle on which to gawk at.

“We need showers,” I told him as a dismissal. I couldn’t help being annoyed that he looked even hotter than he had earlier even so his attire was the same just different body-painted sweater and jeans.

Bastian licked his lips and adjusted the even more prominent outline of his fat dick in his jeans. In a softer voice he said, “I vish … “ but didn’t finish his thought.

We showered and I for one wouldn’t have been surprised had he been waiting for us when we returned to our lockers; but he wasn’t. I had several comments from and conversations about my “racing stripes” as I called them with some of the other members; souvenirs of three open-heart surgeries that saved my life two years before. As I always was I was nervous and self-conscious about the reactions. And as always everyone was supportive and after the fact Kent reminded me what a sexy man he considered his husband to be. And how lucky we were that my hard-earned marks had us there then with our future ahead of us.

We had lunch, we played our doubles match and came surprisingly close to winning, we showered again, all without seeing Bastian. When we returned to the hotel we found a message light blinking on our hotel phone; was that really still a thing? Thinking it was an error we ignored it.

We met my son, his wife, my daughter, and her boyfriend-slash-baby-daddy for a nice dinner; they had shared a sitter to have an adult night out. It had been little over a month since they had all visited us in Florida for a week; but without the babies it was a delight to spend the evening. Kent, Sibby, and Al Junior are closer than close; probably owing to their closer ages than theirs to their father’s and Kent’s irresistible effect on most everyone. Both kids and their better halves being parents of infants the night was an early one as they were beat; so we were back to our very nice suite (again owing to the influence of my once and future bosses) by eight.

On the way up Kent had flirted and had me hard as a plumbing wrench before the door was open. He had kissed me at length against our door before we went in and had rubbed his own hard length against mine until we were both panting and wet in our underwear.

Sex with Kent is always hawt; but the foreplay is often just as hot. Not only the thrill for an older man like me being the object of his very obvious desire but his enjoyment of the build-up and the way he builds-up my desire to higher and higher plateaus is exhilarating. He had been shameless from when we left the club; and he had increased that shameless teasing in the Uber. The driver left us at the hotel with a comment, “I only wish my night held in store the fun you two are going to have!” and left us laughing. I hope Kent remembered to give him five stars and a good tip for him indulging two grown men all over each other in the back seat of his American SUV; I’d check later to be certain we had.

Doing our best to make the elevator security cameras’ footage eligible for PornHub Kent had my fly open and his hand inside stroking me to nearly cumming right there. And the walk down the hall to our room he felt-up my butt and told me exactly how he was going to use it to satisfy his own straining hard-on in his pants. And then the kiss; and the grind; and fingering me. I was SO ready when we finally stumbled inside with his long middle finger still nudging my p-spot and making my hole want him inside me right then. But there was an envelope on the floor that broke our attention on each other enough to take us back a few gears.

I bent to pick it up, still moaning from Kent’s diddling me. I offered it to him (the letter; my hole he already had) but he gave me another zap with his fingertip and told me, “I’m otherwise occupied. You read it for us.”

I gasped as the jolt coursed through me and fought the urge to rape my husband’s cock right then. I opened it and we both read the note handwritten on the heavy hotel stationary still panting.

Allan and Kent:

I will be blunt. I would greatly enjoy sharing your bed with you. I believe we would all enjoy the pleasures we would have together. If I do not draw your interest my hope is that you will consider this the compliment to two very sexy men which it is intended to be, and you will maintain your welcoming demeanor toward me.

Hopefully,

Bastian

There was his suite number and also a 404 number.

We looked at each other not so much stupefied as questioningly. And then Kent grabbed the letter from me and threw it down and began urgently tugging open my pants with his free hand. Decision made!

I helped him as I frantically humped myself on his finger; I was as eager to have my husband fill me as I’d ever been. He got my pants and boxer briefs yanked painfully down nearly ripping my rock hard boner off as the fabric yanked my hardness down in his forceful pull. He used his foot and pushed them down to the floor and shoved me around facing the wall. Then he fell to his knees; his hands pulled my butt-cheeks apart savagely and his mouth and tongue replaced his finger in my wet hole and made me gasp again.

“FUCK!”

He came up for air long enough to reassure me. “Oh you fuckin’ know I definitely will!”

Kent ate me like he was starved and pulled my butt-cheeks farther apart even more roughly to get in deeper. His late-day stubble on my taint was itself driving me wild. He took a strong hold on my heavily-swinging ball-sac and used it to make me moan and cry out from the pressure, pain, and pleasure.

When my husband roughly covered my flared head and globbed all the pre-jizz he could off it I knew I was about to get what I’d been begging for loud enough for the adjacent rooms to hear. I felt him still tonguing me and also fumbling with his own pants behind and under me while he continued to rub my slimy head. And then finally he jerked his head away from my begging hole and was on his feet; he shoved into me roughly to the balls.

“GYAAAAAACK!” I screamed as his huge hard-on ripped my guts open.

“Shut the fuck up!” he hissed and smacked my ass-cheek hard; I yelped but tried to muffle it with my face against the wall. “This is what you’ve wanted all day you cock-whore. I saw you shaking this slutty hole at every young stud all day today and hoping one of them would fill it. Admit it!”

He slammed into me again and again but with his last thrust nearly drove me off my feet and up the wall. I could feel all of his thick inches scraping my insides, battering my prostate, reaming me.

“THIS is what I wanted. You!” I coughed out as he pile-drove me.

“I’m just getting you opened-up for Bastian’s Wiener schnitzel to do his worst!”

For a moment he stopped dead, fully inside me; the idiocy of what he’s said seemed to echo in the air. Then he collapsed against my back with his sweaty face in my sweaty neck and we both laughed. “That didn’t quite work did it?”

He began pumping into me slowly again and made the “it” trail into a long moan from me. “Just fuck me baby!” I urged him. “I’m all yours.”

“How about this?” he breathed into my ear as he stroked in and out of me and kept me moaning. “I love the way my jizz will be what lubes Qist’s way inside you … if you want him to fuck you that is.” He ended with a long strong kiss to my neck that would leave a healthy mark.

My husband had me weak on my feet and kept me propped against the wall while he drilled and cockscrewed into me the way he knows drives me crazy. I was writhing and soaring; my release came very slowly and began with my toes and scalp both burning and then flashed through me converging in my balls. I felt him thickening inside me and stretching me more as I was about to shatter.

“I’m so close Al,” Kent groaned in my ear. I knew from his return to the frenzied jabs of his length deep inside me and this thickened rod and knob.

“Me t … “

I couldn’t finish because it was precisely then that the burning flash which had converged in my sac exploded out my bone. I was wracked with convulsions and screamed with the joy and agony of it as my seed erupted out against the hotel wall; and my husband’s long groan accompanied deep jabs while he flooded his own jizz deep inside me.

Our balls came to rest against each other’s after our convulsive gyrations ended and we stood there slumped against the wall sweating through our shirts. “If it was possible that would have got you pregnant,” he whispered and licked the sweat off my neck and kissed me at my nape.

A louder laugh from me was nearly a guffaw. “If that was possible we’d have 35 kids by now and you could park a bus in my hole!”

He was still inside me though not as hard as before. He moved himself in me; we both moaned as our laughs subsided.

“Good thing nature knew what it was doing,” he observed.

I ground back on him and clenched and got the desired catch in his breathing. “For so many reasons,” I agreed.

Kent had his right arm up along the wall beside my head and I turned into his ripe arm-pit and whiffed his scent like poppers. That always stokes the embers in my balls and fires new life to my dick. Kent’s dick was nearly rigid again and I gently stroked myself on his thickness enjoying our stickiness.

“What do you say we let Bastion do the work the next round?” he asked softly in a sex-drenched tone.

My answer was to scamper out from under him painfully as he popped out of my battered hole, root around to get each of our phones out of our discarded pants, the letter, and to do the best i could to hold my gaping hole closed and keep my husband’s swimmers inside me.

“Your phone or mine?” I asked and held both up.

Kent took his phone, got it awake, and thumbed it. “Read me that number.” I did and he thumbed it in. And then he dictated the message.

“We have finished fucking our brains out, maybe literally since we are now suggesting this. If you want to lick us clean and let us do to you or you do what we order you to do open parenthesis that means, felch, suck, fuck, lick, drink, swallow, whatever we choose close parenthesis then come on up. But your admission to our room is naked. And you travel from your room to ours in nothing more than your underwear like the wanton slut you are. You leave the underwear outside the door before you enter. It will be propped. When you have entered you are our bitch. Completely.”

He thumb-corrected a few dictation errors and made sure I gave him the nod to send. I noticed he sent to both me and to the 404 number Bastian had left.

I answered by grabbing his rock-hard bull-dick and said, “There’s enough of this to share; but it’s all mine!”

I am all yours my Al; always,” he reassured me and kissed me possessively and hungrily like he hadn’t just had me. His phone whooshed with the text sending.

“Another one will be ruined for all others.” I observed.

Bastian couldn’t have read it that fast; my phone had no sooner vibrated with Kent’s text than his phone and mine vibrated again.

Room #?

As Kent dictated it in I went to prop the door to our suite and then began gathering our discarded clothes. When I headed toward the bathroom.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to piss,” I told him as I rounded the corner into the bedroom. He followed me.

“Save it.” I turned to see his face was all devilish with plans. “We have a urinal on its way.”

Game on.

To be continued..