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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.'