Even though we were heading towards the end of spring, the afternoon was too hot. I just had finished a friendly tennis match with one of my friends, Marcel, who had invited me to stay for a few days with him in Monaco. We met the summer after finishing high school in Berlin, when both of us were traveling through Europe. My name is Diego, I'm from Spain and even though his family is French Marcel grew up in Monaco, his family is filthy rich.
We had stayed in contact through social media throughout the last 5 years but never managed to see each other again. Marcel was constantly traveling, and I was constantly working. Our love for tennis helped maintain contact, as we would talk about the top players and big matches, especially during grand slams.
A few weeks ago, while talking about the Miami Open, Marcel asked if I wanted to accompany him to Roland Garros, as his friend that was supposed to go with him couldn't go this year. I explained I didn't have the money for such an expensive trip, even if for a few days. Marcel said that he didn't mind paying for the tickets and hotel stay, and if I could get myself to Monaco on the week before the tournament began, I could tag along with him on a road trip to Paris (a tradition between him and his friend). I would never have an opportunity like that one, so I managed to get some days off work and I booked my flights. I arrived in Monaco on Thursday, a day before our road trip began. We would be dividing the trip between two days, arriving in Paris on Saturday, a day before the tournament began. I would accompany him for the first week, as I couldn't afford to stay for the whole two weeks.
I practiced tennis one or two days a week, besides going to the gym five days a week. I liked staying in shape. If I had to compare my physique with a tennis player I would have to say I'm a tanned Coric, but with curly hair, like Berrettini, but not with that model face, even though I have a pretty one. I can find someone easily to have sex. If I go out with friends I usually end up with a girl, try to take her home, even though I also hooked up with boys on nightclubs as well. If I am a considerable time without sex I activate my grindr profile and invite a bottom to my place. I'm bisexual and my closest friends know that. Marcel doesn't, though. He's a bit smaller than me, but must be around 180cm. He's blonde, but his hair is shaved in a buzzcut. He's also in shape, he told me he has a personal trainer that he video calls with, even when he's traveling.
So, when we arrived at his place, he told me to just change into some sports clothes as he booked us a court in the place where the Monte Carlo tournament happens, so we could finally see who's the better player. I won two sets to one, but it was tight. The last set was 6-4 and took over an hour. We're both tired and sweaty, our shirts completely soaked in sweat, heading to the showers when we passed by a court where I noticed Stefanos Tsitsipas was practicing, ahead of Roland Garros. I said to Marcel that by now I would expect him to be in Paris already. Marcel told me that he most likely preferred the quiet environment of practicing here.
On the side of the court that we were passing through, the sparring partner of Stefanos was playing. When the point ended, Marcel shout out to the guy, who waved back. They knew each other from the club. He also had spoken to Stefanos once or twice, he explained. I was starstruck. I was expecting to see some famous players in Paris, from the stands, but not here and so up close. Marcel made some hand gestures, asking to the Stefanos' partner if we could stay and watch for a bit, as I was so excited. He allowed, so we sat outside of the court, with a view from the back. After a few more points, Tsitsipas and his partner switched sides and he was now less than 5 meters away from us. I was focused on watching them play, but when it was his partner side to serve again and he bent that formidable ass towards us my mind shifted. It was one of those times where I haven't had sex for a while and seeing that bubble butt jiggling, bending, moving on those tight shorts made my dick twitch. I could barely look elsewhere. I was mesmerized. In my mind I could only think of all the things I'd love to do with that ass. My dick was getting hard and it would be impossible to hide a boner with the shorts I was wearing, so I tried to focus on the practice, taking picks at that ass once in a while. The practice eventually ended and Stefanos went to the chairs on the side court, moving those big muscled buttocks. I had noticed his big ass while watching him play on tv, but seeing it live and so close was something else. I knew I was going to be spanking my dick in that shower.
With the practice over, Marcel waved back to Tsitsipas' partner and we headed to the showers. I was thirsty, of the heat and not only that, which allowed me to notice I had left my water bottle at the court where we played. Marcel told the general directions to the showers and to choose one with the door unlocked. We would meet up again at the car, he would drop me home and go on a date with his girlfriend, since they would be apart for 2 weeks. I had my water bottle and was now finally going to a much-needed shower. All the showers were private and since we had gone directly to the court when we arrived I had still to choose one. I pulled the knob on one of the first doors, and the door opened, but the room wasn't empty. In front of me was Tsitsipas, naked. His perfect and muscled white chest and abs, but tanned arms, his curly hair, wet with sweat... his dick and bush. When he saw me, he quickly turned around to avoid me seeing his penis, but ended up showing me his ass and I was now seeing it naked. White like his chest, big, but not flaccid at all, hanging in there, pure muscle. I wished I could touch it and feel how hard it was. I couldn't move until seconds later he turned his head towards the door and asked me to leave and shut it. I did so and quickly tried to open the door next to it. Thankfully it was open and nobody was there. I was so embarrassed from what had happened, I took my clothes off and took a long cold shower, without taking the opportunity to masturbate as I had planned. When I was ready to leave the locker room I noticed a piece of paper on the floor next to the door. I picked it up and had a number and two words that said TEXT ME.
I was confused and had no idea what that could be about, but in my mind I knew only one person could know I was there in that specific locker room, so if it was for me it could only be Stefanos. But was I not believing it. I decided to text. I wrote 'Hey, so this number was left in my locker room.' As I was going to the parking lot to meet Marcel, who already had texted me saying he was waiting, I got a response asking me to go back to the practice court where Stefanos was practicing before. I thought a small detour wouldn't be much of a delay and also it was a place with some people around, so I would be safe. I went there and sat where we were before seeing the practice it was Stefanos. He was wearing some thight dark jeans and a green t-shirt. He saw me and signaled me to come to him. I got near him and even though we could hear some people playing in some courts and one or another person was passing by, nobody was actually paying attention to us.
- Hello. - he said to me smiling. - Sorry for before, my door should have been locked, I forgot to do it. But people do knock before opening a door here, to avoid those situations.
- It's okay, I'm the one that should be apologizing, it's my first time here so I didn't know I had to knock. My friend told me I could just go to an unlocked locker room.
- Yeah, he probably expected you to have some manners. - said he, making sure I understood he was joking. I laughed and said sorry again. - It's fine, I'm just joking. And you did like the view, so... - He said this with a smile that was not a joking one, but more of a cheeky one. I didn't know what to respond to that, or I took too long to say anything, which pretty much made him know he was right about that.
- Yeah, I had noticed before, when you're watching me play. I know I have a good butt and now I'm able to distinguish who looks at it because they are impressed with it and those looks that go beyond that and yours definitely was just not impressed, but... - and at this moment he got closer to me and lowered his voice - turned on by it. He then got up, and started walking away. I was again a statue, not moving, aroused by his boldness and also, again, by his butt, now on those thight jeans. He stopped, looked back at me, looked down on his ass, smiled back at me and said: - You're coming or what?
I followed him towards the parking lot and that's when I remembered that Marcel should still be waiting for me. I looked at my phone and I had a text from him. He had left or he would be late for his date. He asked me to take a uber home. I texted back, apologizing, saying I took too much time showering and would call the uber, no problem. The parking lot was almost empty and Stefanos was expecting me near his car, when I got closed he got in in the driver's seat and I on the passenger's seat. He started the car, the radio also was on and he took us out of the parking lot and onto the road. He was the one breaking the silence, since he was also the one more comfortable with the whole situation.
- We're going to my apartment. - he smiled at me briefly and then paid attention to the road again.
We had stayed in contact through social media throughout the last 5 years but never managed to see each other again. Marcel was constantly traveling, and I was constantly working. Our love for tennis helped maintain contact, as we would talk about the top players and big matches, especially during grand slams.
A few weeks ago, while talking about the Miami Open, Marcel asked if I wanted to accompany him to Roland Garros, as his friend that was supposed to go with him couldn't go this year. I explained I didn't have the money for such an expensive trip, even if for a few days. Marcel said that he didn't mind paying for the tickets and hotel stay, and if I could get myself to Monaco on the week before the tournament began, I could tag along with him on a road trip to Paris (a tradition between him and his friend). I would never have an opportunity like that one, so I managed to get some days off work and I booked my flights. I arrived in Monaco on Thursday, a day before our road trip began. We would be dividing the trip between two days, arriving in Paris on Saturday, a day before the tournament began. I would accompany him for the first week, as I couldn't afford to stay for the whole two weeks.
I practiced tennis one or two days a week, besides going to the gym five days a week. I liked staying in shape. If I had to compare my physique with a tennis player I would have to say I'm a tanned Coric, but with curly hair, like Berrettini, but not with that model face, even though I have a pretty one. I can find someone easily to have sex. If I go out with friends I usually end up with a girl, try to take her home, even though I also hooked up with boys on nightclubs as well. If I am a considerable time without sex I activate my grindr profile and invite a bottom to my place. I'm bisexual and my closest friends know that. Marcel doesn't, though. He's a bit smaller than me, but must be around 180cm. He's blonde, but his hair is shaved in a buzzcut. He's also in shape, he told me he has a personal trainer that he video calls with, even when he's traveling.
So, when we arrived at his place, he told me to just change into some sports clothes as he booked us a court in the place where the Monte Carlo tournament happens, so we could finally see who's the better player. I won two sets to one, but it was tight. The last set was 6-4 and took over an hour. We're both tired and sweaty, our shirts completely soaked in sweat, heading to the showers when we passed by a court where I noticed Stefanos Tsitsipas was practicing, ahead of Roland Garros. I said to Marcel that by now I would expect him to be in Paris already. Marcel told me that he most likely preferred the quiet environment of practicing here.
On the side of the court that we were passing through, the sparring partner of Stefanos was playing. When the point ended, Marcel shout out to the guy, who waved back. They knew each other from the club. He also had spoken to Stefanos once or twice, he explained. I was starstruck. I was expecting to see some famous players in Paris, from the stands, but not here and so up close. Marcel made some hand gestures, asking to the Stefanos' partner if we could stay and watch for a bit, as I was so excited. He allowed, so we sat outside of the court, with a view from the back. After a few more points, Tsitsipas and his partner switched sides and he was now less than 5 meters away from us. I was focused on watching them play, but when it was his partner side to serve again and he bent that formidable ass towards us my mind shifted. It was one of those times where I haven't had sex for a while and seeing that bubble butt jiggling, bending, moving on those tight shorts made my dick twitch. I could barely look elsewhere. I was mesmerized. In my mind I could only think of all the things I'd love to do with that ass. My dick was getting hard and it would be impossible to hide a boner with the shorts I was wearing, so I tried to focus on the practice, taking picks at that ass once in a while. The practice eventually ended and Stefanos went to the chairs on the side court, moving those big muscled buttocks. I had noticed his big ass while watching him play on tv, but seeing it live and so close was something else. I knew I was going to be spanking my dick in that shower.
With the practice over, Marcel waved back to Tsitsipas' partner and we headed to the showers. I was thirsty, of the heat and not only that, which allowed me to notice I had left my water bottle at the court where we played. Marcel told the general directions to the showers and to choose one with the door unlocked. We would meet up again at the car, he would drop me home and go on a date with his girlfriend, since they would be apart for 2 weeks. I had my water bottle and was now finally going to a much-needed shower. All the showers were private and since we had gone directly to the court when we arrived I had still to choose one. I pulled the knob on one of the first doors, and the door opened, but the room wasn't empty. In front of me was Tsitsipas, naked. His perfect and muscled white chest and abs, but tanned arms, his curly hair, wet with sweat... his dick and bush. When he saw me, he quickly turned around to avoid me seeing his penis, but ended up showing me his ass and I was now seeing it naked. White like his chest, big, but not flaccid at all, hanging in there, pure muscle. I wished I could touch it and feel how hard it was. I couldn't move until seconds later he turned his head towards the door and asked me to leave and shut it. I did so and quickly tried to open the door next to it. Thankfully it was open and nobody was there. I was so embarrassed from what had happened, I took my clothes off and took a long cold shower, without taking the opportunity to masturbate as I had planned. When I was ready to leave the locker room I noticed a piece of paper on the floor next to the door. I picked it up and had a number and two words that said TEXT ME.
I was confused and had no idea what that could be about, but in my mind I knew only one person could know I was there in that specific locker room, so if it was for me it could only be Stefanos. But was I not believing it. I decided to text. I wrote 'Hey, so this number was left in my locker room.' As I was going to the parking lot to meet Marcel, who already had texted me saying he was waiting, I got a response asking me to go back to the practice court where Stefanos was practicing before. I thought a small detour wouldn't be much of a delay and also it was a place with some people around, so I would be safe. I went there and sat where we were before seeing the practice it was Stefanos. He was wearing some thight dark jeans and a green t-shirt. He saw me and signaled me to come to him. I got near him and even though we could hear some people playing in some courts and one or another person was passing by, nobody was actually paying attention to us.
- Hello. - he said to me smiling. - Sorry for before, my door should have been locked, I forgot to do it. But people do knock before opening a door here, to avoid those situations.
- It's okay, I'm the one that should be apologizing, it's my first time here so I didn't know I had to knock. My friend told me I could just go to an unlocked locker room.
- Yeah, he probably expected you to have some manners. - said he, making sure I understood he was joking. I laughed and said sorry again. - It's fine, I'm just joking. And you did like the view, so... - He said this with a smile that was not a joking one, but more of a cheeky one. I didn't know what to respond to that, or I took too long to say anything, which pretty much made him know he was right about that.
- Yeah, I had noticed before, when you're watching me play. I know I have a good butt and now I'm able to distinguish who looks at it because they are impressed with it and those looks that go beyond that and yours definitely was just not impressed, but... - and at this moment he got closer to me and lowered his voice - turned on by it. He then got up, and started walking away. I was again a statue, not moving, aroused by his boldness and also, again, by his butt, now on those thight jeans. He stopped, looked back at me, looked down on his ass, smiled back at me and said: - You're coming or what?
I followed him towards the parking lot and that's when I remembered that Marcel should still be waiting for me. I looked at my phone and I had a text from him. He had left or he would be late for his date. He asked me to take a uber home. I texted back, apologizing, saying I took too much time showering and would call the uber, no problem. The parking lot was almost empty and Stefanos was expecting me near his car, when I got closed he got in in the driver's seat and I on the passenger's seat. He started the car, the radio also was on and he took us out of the parking lot and onto the road. He was the one breaking the silence, since he was also the one more comfortable with the whole situation.
- We're going to my apartment. - he smiled at me briefly and then paid attention to the road again.
