Date: Sat, 10 May 2014 03:20:46 +0100
From: A Guy <myniftystories@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Rafael Nadal Is Rock Bottom, Part 4

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Rafael Nadal Is Rock Bottom



Part 4



Nadal reluctantly stood up and slowly followed Pitt out of the room.  They
went back along the corridor, past the Picasso again, and then back into
the main hall where the staircase was.  Nadal briefly considered leaving.
Just running out the door and not looking back.  But he couldn't.  He
remembered Eric saying that the doors were all sealed, and besides, Eric
had taken his things to some mystery room upstairs.  Everything was in the
bag he had brought: his passport, driver's license, everything he needed.
No, it was no use.

Pitt now led him to the door to the left of the staircase, pushed it open
and went through.  Nadal was taken aback by what they were met with on the
other side.  It was a giant swimming pool, surrounded by various statues
and bronzes, with sunlight streaming in through a glass roof above.  It was
stunning, and for a moment, Nadal stood staring, taking it all in.

`Come on, Rafa,' Pitt smirked, taking Nadal's hand and leading him past the
swimming pool, towards a set of doors at the far end of the room.

Nadal quickly loosened himself from Pitt's grasp, uncomfortable with being
touched by a stranger.  The doors they now walked through opened into a
courtyard.  Some more statues stood in this area, which was dominated by an
ancient oak tree that provided shade from the sun to one half of the
courtyard.

`Through here,' Pitt said, reaching the other side of the courtyard and
another set of doors.

Nadal quietly cleared his throat, unsure what would greet him.

Pitt pulled them apart, revealing what could only be described as a sex
dungeon.  Nadal was not familiar with S&M or bondage of any kind, but this
was what the room appeared to be for.  On one side of the massive space,
three sets of apparatus hung from the ceiling, apparently slings of some
kind.  There were several tables along the back wall, on top of which Nadal
could see all manner of dildos, butt plugs, and other sex toys.  He gulped.

A leather padded table stood in the centre of the room, its purpose clear
from the stains all over its surface.  There was a faint, salty smell in
the air, definitely one of perspiration combined with leather and goodness
knows what else.  Nadal made for the door.

`Where are you going?'

`I can't do this--'

Pitt ran after him and took hold of his shoulder.  Nadal whirled around.

`Get off me!'

He lunged at Pitt, who quickly backed off, putting his hands up.

`It's okay,' Pitt said gently, `it's okay.'

`I, I can't, I've never, I don't know,' Nadal stammered, almost pushed to
tears.

`Hey, hey,' Pitt said, `Rafa, hey.  It's okay.  Let's just sit down here
and discuss this thing.'

He led Nadal to a bench which had been placed in the shade of the oak tree.
Nadal was trying to regulate his breathing, while Pitt had his arm around
the tennis player's shoulder.  He was about to speak, when suddenly Nadal
broke the silence.

`If I agree to this,' he said, wriggling out of Pitt's hold on him, `you
have to promise that no-one will find out about it.'

`No-one will,' Pitt replied, `I thought I already made that clear.  What
happens here, stays here.'

`Do we have to,' Nadal said shakily, `you know, be in there?'

He pointed at the dungeon room.

`No, no, of course not.  If you're not comfortable with that, we can change
the venue.'

`There are other places in this building, that aren't like that?'

`Yes, this place is huge.  In fact, I know just the room.  That is, if
you're willing to come with me?' Pitt stood up and looked down at Nadal,
wondering if he had broken him.

`Alright,' Nadal said, defeated, `alright.'

While Nadal sat on the bench, Pitt swiftly closed the doors to the dungeon
and asked Nadal to follow him once again.  This time, they went back into
the room with the swimming pool and up a small flight of stairs Nadal had
not noticed before.  At the top of these steps was another door, which
opened onto a landing.  They climbed another two flights of stairs and then
entered a room sure to be on the second floor of the house.

The room was luxurious, thickly carpeted and filled with plush sofas, small
end tables, a large liquor cabinet, and a roaring fireplace.  Nadal was
surprised that the fire was even lit on such a warm day.

`Well,' Pitt said, `will this do?'

`I suppose,' were the only words Nadal could manage.

`Good.  Please make yourself comfortable, and I'll be back shortly.'

Nadal breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind Pitt, but his
chest tightened slightly when he heard the door being locked.  He saw no
reason for this, given that he had no idea where in the house he was, and
that anyway, he was not going to run now.  What would be the point?  He had
resigned himself to this odd fate, desperate for the money, but hesitant
about the things he would have to do for it.  And who were the `us' Pitt
kept mentioning?

He moved further into the room now, taking in his surroundings.  A
haphazard pile of porno magazines lay on top of one of the end tables, a
blonde woman with gargantuan breasts on the cover of one, a ripped stud on
front of another.  To the left of the fireplace was a door which stood
ajar.  He went over to it, opening it further, only to find a master
bedroom inside, complete with a four poster bed, white silk sheets, feather
pillows, the works.  He was startled by the sound of the key in the lock
again, and quickly dashed back to one of the sofas, unwilling to be found
so close to the bedroom.

He turned to the door and saw Pitt re-emerge.

`I'm back,' he smiled, walking to the couch and sitting beside Nadal.

`So,' Nadal mumbled.

`So,' Pitt repeated, raising his hand to touch Nadal's cheek.

Nadal pulled away.

`You'll have to get used to this,' Pitt said, trying again to caress
Nadal's face.

This time, Nadal did nothing, and instead let Pitt rub his face.  Pitt then
moved in further, his lips lightly making contact with Nadal's cheek.
Again, Nadal did nothing, and Pitt's lips sought Nadal's.  The first kiss
between them was pretty unremarkable, with Nadal unwilling to kiss Pitt
back.  However, the second time Pitt tried, he rammed his tongue into the
tennis player's mouth, leaving him no choice but to react.

The kiss soon turned into a sort of match, with both of them trying to
outdo each other.  Their tongues wriggled against each other hungrily.
Nadal was surprised to find that he was almost enjoying this, though he
wondered if this enjoyment stemmed from the fact that he was not merely
letting Pitt take him.  He was fighting back.

`Mmmmm,' Pitt groaned, climbing onto Nadal's lap.

Nadal was completely confused now, not disliking the kissing and not making
any attempt to make Pitt move away.  He could feel Pitt's erection rubbing
against him, and to his horror, realised that his own penis was also rock
hard.  He wished he could say that he managed to get hard because he was
pretending that this was Maria on his lap, kissing him so fiercely, but he
could not.  His eyes were wide open, taking in the full picture: Brad Pitt
sitting in Rafael Nadal's lap, kissing him furiously and groaning sexily.

Before he knew what was happening, Pitt had moved slowly down his lap, past
his thighs and then his knees, before kneeling in front of Nadal.  He was
looking up at him with lust in his eyes, and reached for Nadal's crotch.
He quickly unfastened the button on his trousers and pulled down the zip,
before yanking them and Nadal's tighty whities off completely.

Nadal's eight inch cock stood to attention, betraying the tennis player's
earlier unwillingness to take part in any kind of sex game.

`That's a beautiful fucking cock,' Pitt said, carefully taking it in his
hand and jerking it a little.

Nadal groaned at the sensation, ashamed at his wish for Pitt to take it in
his mouth as soon as possible.  A couple of seconds later, he did just
that, deep throating the tennis stud in one move.  He seemed to have no gag
reflex, and continued to take the entire length of Nadal's dick in his
mouth over and over again.  His head bobbed up and down, saliva dribbling
from his lips each time he took the dick out of his mouth before gobbling
it up again.  For his part, Nadal was angrily in heaven, enjoying the
sensation of Pitt's tongue licking at his dickhead, but feeling frustrated
by it all.

Pitt carried on sucking Nadal's veiny dick for another few minutes, but
stopped when it became clear – much to Nadal's anger – that he was
almost ready to cum.

`Have to get the most out of this, don't I?' Pitt smiled, his eyes not
leaving Nadal's as he suddenly reached for a drawer, took out a bottle of
lube, rubbed some around his asshole and sat on Nadal's rock hard prick.

`Oh, oh my God,' Nadal moaned, looking at Pitt, whose eyes were closed, his
face a picture of ecstasy.

`Oh', Pitt groaned, `oh, that feels so fucking good.'

Pitt rode Nadal's dick like crazy, each motion burying it further and
further in Pitt's ass.  Pitt could not believe how good this felt, so happy
that Nadal was enjoying it.  He had not expected it to go like this, sure
that Nadal would show no enthusiasm, or even back out completely.

He was even more surprised when, a moment later, he realised that he was no
longer doing all the work.  Nadal was pushing his dick into Pitt, rather
than the other way round.  He looked at Nadal now, and the tennis player
smirked at him slightly.  Pitt writhed in delight as Nadal pistoned his
dick in and out of the film star's asshole.

Nadal felt like he was definitely winning.  This contest of sorts had
escalated, and he was now the one in control.  He could not believe how
tight Pitt's asshole felt wrapped around his dick, much better than Maria's
pussy had ever been.  He carried on fucking the film star, who had started
to jerk his own cock, gradually speeding up as Nadal's pushes intensified.

Pitt was beyond ecstasy, unable to speak anymore, jerking his cock.  His
moaning increased in volume as he felt himself get closer and closer.
Finally, he let out one last monumental grunt, and came all over Nadal's
shirt.  Nadal kept pushing into Pitt as the cum exploded from Pitt's dick,
and felt himself about to climax as well.

`Ohhhh,' he groaned.

`You're there?'

`I'm,' Nadal stammered, `I'm there!'

`Ohhhhh,' Pitt moaned, `that's it, cum in my ass!'

Nadal's cock erupted, cum spurting from the head and into Pitt's asshole.
He continued to thrust until his balls were completely drained.  As Nadal
stopped thrusting, Pitt pushed his ass down further onto the tennis
player's dick, determined that his ass would be totally filled with spunk.
This had long been a fantasy of his, and he was not going to miss any part
of it.

`That was fucking incredible,' Pitt said, tracing his finger along the cum
stains on Nadal's shirt.

`I don't know what to say,' Nadal replied.

`Did you like it?

`What do you think?' Nadal said, smiling.

Suddenly they were alerted to the sound of the door handle being turned.
Just like with Pitt, Nadal was taken aback by who entered the room.  Three
men, all very famous, walked in, their expressions baffled.

`What the fuck's going on here?  You've started without us, and you've let
him fuck you?'

`Couldn't resist,' Pitt replied, `but there's plenty of time to try out his
ass.'

`Well,' the man smiled, `no time like the present.'