Andy Roddick stepped into the locker room after his big win against

Roger Federer in Miami. The humidity was severe and Andy was still

dripping with sweat. He was lucky to win the match against the number

3 seed, and had struggled to keep his vision clear during the game

from the steady flow of perspiration as it profusely dripped off his

Lacoste cap. At every service break during the match, the stadium's

staff of ball boys were busy tossing Andy his towel so he could wipe

off. By the end of the match the towel was soaked with Andy's sweat

and it had become so wet it was useless in keeping him dry. The match

finished late in the evening and after pumping his fist in victory and

waving to the crowd, he left center court completely stoked over his

win. The audience dispersed as soon as the match concluded and Federer

himself exited the stadium quickly in response to the upset.

I watched the entire match from a courtside advantage; my tall,

muscular frame blocking the passage between the locker room and the

entrance to the center stage. Not that any of my muscle is needed as

none of the fans have access. The passage is mainly a thoroughfare for

the players. From my perspective, being able to watch the match so

close and off-camera is considered one of the many perks of my job.

The only drawback to being courtside security is that I'm standing the

entire time during a game, in full uniform, and sweating just as much

the players in the Miami heat.

"Great win tonight, Andy", I said, escorting him down the corridor

away from center court to the locker room.  I couldn't help stealing

glances of this dude, drenched shirt clinging to his muscular body.

"Thanks, man", he said, smiling back. "I really needed this win after

last week's disappointing loss".

As we continued the short distance, I opened the last set of double

doors and gestured him through. Just as he passed by, I caught the

most intoxicating smell of the tennis player's man scent mixed with

the smell of the men's locker room wafting in.  And had I breathed any

deeper, most likely would have passed out in ecstasy. Obviously,

Roddick didn't wear deodorant or cologne, which was in line with my

philosophy: that a man should smell like a man. And, damn, he smelled

like one hot man.

"I'm just going to lock up, you'll have access to the showers and the

whole place to yourself in a moment."

"Good, because this heat has me sweating and smelling like a dirty

pig", he replied.

"And you smell like a dirty pig too", he jokingly added.

Damn, why did he have to say that! I know I hadn't showered since this

morning and wearing my enforcement clothes all day certainly didn't

help in this heat either. The uniform was a requirement. Still, I

couldn't help but be embarrassed by his observation and yet I was

turned on by the comment as well. His scent, and what he just said had

me on edge. I could feel my cock shift uncomfortably in my pants as it

stirred to life and swelled.

Although I was married and had two boys of my own, I, on occasion,

couldn't help myself from indulging in man-to-man sex now and then.

Andy was married. Could this be the case with him too?  Did he like

the idea of dirty, sweaty man sex? Was I reading too much into what he

said: of him referring to us as smelling like dirty pigs? Truth be

told, I've always loved my scent. I can turn my head to sniff my pits,

especially in uniform, and get an instant hard-on. For now, I put

these thoughts on hold before the sight of my aching cock became


"Ok, I'm going make a final round and lock up".

"Sounds good", Andy replied. He removed his white Lacoste cap and set

it on the bench next to him. He glanced over to me and deliberately

took in a deep whiff of air around him.

"Yeah, man, you definitely could use a good shower too", he laughed again.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck", I thought. This guy was punching all my buttons.

I'm sure he saw my hard-on as I made my way past him. And a quick look

down at my dark pants, I saw a nice, even darker quarter-sized spot of

pre-cum soaking through. Oh great. Just fucking great. Maybe it wasn't

visible. Maybe.

I quickly left Andy to undress at the first set of locker room benches

and checked on the main doors leading to the outside entrance. These

doors were securely locked as they had been since the match began. I

then retraced my steps to the locker room and looked down the other

rows of lockers and benches satisfied that everything was all clear.

Completely secure as I expected.

As I approached the last row of lockers on the right, I overheard Andy

on his cell phone. Not wanting to directly intrude in on the

conversation, I turned to my left up a dimly lit hallway yet still an

earshot away.  Once my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, I could see

Andy from an angle from where I stood. He was still sitting on the

bench, but to my disappointment, remained in full tennis gear. I

caught the tail end of a one-sided conversation that was with his


"Thank you, couldn't be happier"

"Yes, get the Champagne ready, you and I will celebrate"

"I know it gets you horny too" (laughs)

"Oh, I already am!"

"See you in a bit baby, I won't be long"

After Andy ended the cell call, he stood up and stretched; arms over

and hands clasped above his head. His dark armpit hairs peaked out

visibly in contrast to his white tennis shirt. He looked so damn sexy,

and I wanted to bury my face in there. He turned around and looked at

a reflection of himself in a set of full-length mirrors that faced the

lockers. He had an attitude about him and wore a satisfied grin.

To my surprise, he apparently was talking to himself. I heard him say,

"you were awesome out there, stud" and "fuck, you look good tonight".

I smiled to myself and thought. "Yes, you are awesome buddy."  I

patiently waited for him to undress hoping to get a glimpse of the

naked pro before his shower, but he had other plans.

With arms still raised in front of the mirror, he started sniffing his

hairy damp armpits. Taking turns between his left and right pit;

inhaling and exhaling deeply with eyes closed. When he finally opened

them, I could tell he was in lust over himself and his scent. He lids

were droopy and his eyes drifted back in his head as if he were

drugged. I thought to hear him whisper, "Where'd that stud of a guard

go?", but I'm sure I was mistaken. Still sniffing his right armpit, he

reached down and tugged at the front of his shorts revealing the

outline of his bulging cock pressed against white cloth.

Any guy this much into their own man scent, had to be into other guys

as well. I decided to make a move.

Silently, I stepped out of the shadow of the hallway. I entered the

row where Andy stood, watching for the moment when he closed his eyes

again. In just a few strides, I stood behind the tennis stud. If he

heard me, he didn't say a thing.  In one fast, clean movement, I reach

up into his sweat soaked tennis shirt with both hands, brushing his

treasure trail along the way with my fingers. He leaned back into me,

opened his eyes and saw what I imagined in that moment for him to also

see: a dark-haired, handsome, uniformed security guard, a bit taller

than he, with both hands up his shirt, tugging at his nipples. We were

quite a sight to lay eyes on.

Andy Roddick's body was giving off heat as I continued to run my flat

palms and fingers over his lightly hairy chest and abs. The tennis

match had been exhausting and he needed release. His weak legs wanted

to buckle under but I held him against me and up firm.  He let out

short moans of approval and his cock pulsed harder whenever I slipped

fingers past his waistline. Clearly this was a man that wanted to show

off and cum in the presence of another.

The intensity of our man stink was overwhelming. We both needed to

shower badly. I smelled like a cop working a daily beat in the Miami

heat and he, an athlete that ran a marathon. Not far from the truth. I

could even smell the stink of his tennis shoes and feet. I'm sure he

could smell my raunchy uncut cock and sweaty balls trapped inside my

slacks.  We were both panting like a couple of dogs. Trying to get as

much scent through flared nostrils as we possibly could.

We watch ourselves in the locker room mirror. Andy's ass grinded back

at my aching cock. My cock wanted to be free. My arms wrapped around

him from behind, giving me free will to do as I pleased. With all my

teasing and Andy's grinding, we managed to get his hard cock pointing

straight up so the head just appeared out of his waistline but still

within the confines of his tennis shorts. Whenever I lifted his shirt

to show off his abs, it revealed the tip of his fat cock head with a

large dose of pre-cum that deposited on his stomach and filled his

belly button. With so much pre-cum on his belly, I thought he had shot

a load. But this wasn't the case. The tennis stud was apparently so

turned on he was overflowing with his baby making juice. I spread it

around, glazing his abs with cum as he looked on. This only made him

produce more as he filled the locker room with louder moans.

"I want to cum so bad, man", he cried out. "Please, let me cum."

"I want you to cum, baby", I said. "But, let's have a little fun."

My fingertips scooped up a large glob of his pre-cum and I brought

them to his lips to suck off. At first I thought he found the idea to

be repulsive, but a huge grin took over his beautiful face and like a

baby's having his first taste of candy, he eagerly licked and sucked.

I felt the unshaven stubble on his cheeks as I held his mouth open to

receive his sticky prize. "That's a good boy", I urged him on.

Andy held the pre-cum in his mouth and turned his head towards mine. I

opened my mouth in return and for the first time, our lips made

contact. The tennis pros' cum coated tongue pushed deliberately into

my waiting mouth and I tasted what this athletic stud offered. I

swallowed all the pre-cum he fed back at me and I felt a rush as his

seed made its way to my guts, fully acknowledging that another man's

semen was making its way inside me. At that moment, I wanted Andy's

cock filling my mouth and the head of his man muscle banging the back

of my throat. I wanted his full load, not just the small amount of

pre-cum I just ate. I could probably drink a gallon of Andy's daddy

making jiz and not be satisfied. That's how good his pre-cum tasted.

But I shook the idea off for now. I had more pressing dirty thoughts

in mind.

Andy and I stared back at each other in the mirror again. We knew what

we were doing to each other as men in complete passionate lust and

knew we couldn't take our man-to-man foreplay much longer. We both

wanted to cum so badly, but didn't want our fun to end either.

"Get me naked, man", Andy begged. "I want you to see me naked in front

of this mirror."

"Yeah, buddy, let's get you naked", I replied. "Let's watch as you and

I have dirty, hairy man sex."

At this point, Andy wanted whatever it took to get him off. He didn't

care any longer and I swore I could see drool spilling from either

side of his mouth as he sucked it back in along with his breath.

Without regard to whatever he had in mind, I reach under Andy's polo

shirt and ripped it down the front. We both gasped as the sight of his

fully naked torso came into view. He was still coated in his own

pre-cum that was quite extensively spread around his neck, chest, and

stomach down to his waist. His beautiful cock head still peaked up out

of his shorts oozing with even more juice. His flat abs with its

treasure trail leading down to his pubes was also glistening with a

sticky coat of jizm. I was please with what I had accomplished using

Andy's muscular body along with his pre-cum while we were still fully

clothed. By the look on his face, he was pleased too.  His wife was

one lucky woman, to have access to this stud 24/7.

Andy's torn shirt fell back off his body and I wrapped it around my

shoulders like a dirty towel rather than discarding it. It had the

scent of Andy that was too great to waste. The shorts were next. I

unzipped his fly and grabbing the opening on either side, popped the

button and ripped them fully off at the seams. I let the shorts fall

away and at the last moment decided to keep them too.

Taking stock back in the mirror, God, he was one gorgeous American

man. We looked hot in that mirror have sex together. He was not quite

naked, but still in socks, tennis shoes and a jock with cock poking

out at the band. This stud had matured from his earlier days and was

in his prime. I pulled him back over to the locker room bench and got

him in position on all fours. Still in view of the mirrors to his

right side, Andy turned his head to see the submissive posture he had

gotten himself into and in anticipation of what I had in store next.

Placed in doggy-style position and in full view, he was kneeling on

the bench, supported by his arms in front and legs and feet to the

rear. I was staring at Andy's hairy muscular, sweaty ass that was

framed perfectly by the dirty jock he wore. I wanted to bathe this

dude in my spit and clean him from head to toe. After all, he hadn't

showered and his man scent was incredibly strong. I began by pulling

off his left tennis shoe and nearly fell over from the scent. Still,

taking it further, I couldn't help myself from covering my nose with

the shoe's opening and inhaled deeply. I was getting high beyond

belief. And as Andy didn't seem to mind, I was getting more perverted

with him by the second.

"What are you doing back there, buddy?" Andy inquired after several

minutes of me getting high and lost in his tennis shoe stink.

Rather than answer him directly, I reached over and shoved the tennis

shoe in his face. "Breath, piggy fucker", I commanded him.

I watched as Andy's face turned blue before pulling his shoe off his

face. He nearly collapsed down on the bench. I repeated the process

with the right shoe. But this time I placed it on the bench so we

could sniff it together. Both of our noses fighting for position and

getting wasted on the stink by the second. Watching his response to

his own man scent, I decided to get him super high off it. I pulled

Andy's shirt from my shoulders and ripped it into sections, just

keeping the sweaty underarms and sleeves intact. I shoved the rank

fabric into the shoe and placed it back on the bench under his nose.

I pushed his head down, letting him breath on the dirty shirt-stuffed

shoe more deeply. This had the effect of Andy raising his jock ass

higher in the air. Meanwhile, his engorged cock was throbbing so bad I

thought it would explode inside his jockstrap.

"Please suck my cock, buddy", came a muffled sound. "I need to cum

real bad now! My balls are swollen and are turning blue". He was

sniffing at and even chewing on the sweaty clothes I placed before him

a bit out of control.

"You like your man stink, don't you bro", I stated. It wasn't really a question.

"Yes, sir, I'm learning to love it".

"You're a good little piggy, keep up the good work", I told him.

I couldn't resist Andy's dirty ass. It was begging to be eaten. The

smell alone drew me to it. I wanted to snake my tongue deep inside

him. Hell, I wanted to taste what he ate for lunch, breakfast and

dinner. Placing my hands on each side of Andy's ass cheeks, I spread

him open and revealed his dirty, unwashed butt hole. His crack was

full of sweat, and light brown hair covered the puckered opening. I

moved my face closer, savoring in his athletic man stink. He had just

played a long match and I was about to suck and lick the tennis stud

clean. As I drew closer, my lips were first to make contact and

without using my tongue, I made out with his puckered brown eye. This

dirty fucker was all over my lips and in no time, his stink all over

my face too. I was in heaven, making out like a first time schoolgirl.

Meanwhile, Andy watched us in the mirror's reflection. I heard him

suck in air as he pushed his ass back at me in pure ecstasy.  He was

into it as much as I.

Spreading Andy's hole, my tongue found its new home. I went after his

shitter like there was no tomorrow. He clenched and unclenched around

my intruding tongue drawing me further inside. I tasted past lunch and

into breakfast, that's how bad this dirty little fucker had me going.

I practically had Andy's asshole turned inside out. I had his shithole

so worked open I thought the contents of his guts would spill into my

mouth. The heat of his pink insides covered my lips, nose and face. I

knew more intimately about Roddick's insides than probably anyone ever

had or ever will.

Reluctantly, I pulled back from my mouth-to-ass make out session,

gathered as much saliva as I could and spat directly on Andy's waiting

hole. I knew neither he nor I could last like this much longer. The

smell of our dirty male bodies combined and filled along with the

stench of the male locker room. But it was our throbbing cocks trapped

under sweat soaked fabric that made it all too much to hold back.

I quickly unzipped the fly to my uniform as Andy looked on. Crudely, I

fished my long, fat uncut cock out from the confines of the underwear

beneath. My hands went to either side of Andy's jock, and I pulled

them down to his knees then off his legs in one swift motion. Without

hesitation, I stuff the dirty jock inside my mouth for my own

pleasure. My cock went rock hard as my brain registered the sweet

smell off the jock. Andy's hole, dripping from my spit, stared back at


"Christ, you're horse hung", I heard Andy whimper in protest at what

was to come next.

I positioned my fully erect cock at the center of his hole then buried

my unwashed, uncut, jumbo-sized baby maker deep in his ass as fast as

I could. He was taken by surprise, losing his breath as I split his

hole open with my enormous prick. I reached up under the tennis pro

and grabbed his big, throbbing cock with my fist. Already lubed up

with his pre-cum, I began to jack him off. Simultaneously, with my

other palm, I slapped relentlessly at his aching blue balls. This

caused him both pleasure and pain. I didn't care as my cock had other

ideas. In rhythm, with both hands violating Andy, I fucked him without

mercy. He fully enjoyed the pounding along with the hard slapping I

gave to his full nuts.

Finally, it was all too much. I was pulling out and returning by

fucking him balls deep. I kept this up over and over, pulling out then

fucked him again, as long as we could last. It was then that I felt

Roddick's ass clench around my cock not letting me pull out one last

time. His back arched, grunting and bucking like a wild man just as

his balls unloaded into my pumping fist and ultimately all over the

bench, spilling out onto the floor. This dude came for days. Shooting

his load in spurts that wouldn't end.

His tight ass around my uncut cock caused it to form a knot. At first,

I thought I wouldn't be able to cum as it cut off my throbbing shaft.

I became aware of his heartbeat at the tip of my prick as it was

buried deep within him. The knot swelled then contracted as Andy

finally relaxed, collapsing on the locker room bench in a pool of his

own cum. We both watched in the reflection as my red face dripped with

perspiration onto his back. We were two fucking animals bonded as one.

With a final trust, I unloaded my huge payload deep inside him. I felt

my cum spurting out and down my shaft inside of Andy. The excess

spilled to the walls of his insides and dripped out of his aching, new

split shithole.

Spent and exhausted, we rolled off the bench onto the locker room

floor. I passed out with my cock still inside of Andy.

... to be continued.



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