O’Melissokomos
The Bee Keeper

Andy's Initiation

by stimle

"Damn it, not again," Andy Roddick muttered, slamming his locker door. Where the hell was his underwear!? So far during this year's U.S. Open his underwear had been missing from his locker after every match. Up until now it hadn't bothered him too much because he'd been winning his matches, but tonight he had lost to Lleyton Hewitt in a tough five-setter and he wasn't in a very good mood. When he had complained to the locker room attendant, he was given a bland apology and the lame explanation that it probably just some fan sneaking in and stealing his clothing. Whatever the case was, Andy wasn't happy. He wrapped his towel around his waist and sifted through the clothes he'd stripped off before his shower, looking for the underwear he'd worn during the match. The last couple of nights he'd ended up wearing his sweaty briefs home under his street clothes instead of his normal boxers, but tonight even his briefs were missing.

"Great... just great," he snapped, whining. He threw the clothes down. Then he remembered that he'd brought extra briefs with him that night, figuring that the match was going to be a marathon and that he might have to change at some point. Sure enough, there they were, stuffed in the pocket of his tennis bag. He shook them out slipped them on, catching sight of himself in the mirror. Abercrombie and Fitch white square-cut briefs. He never wore briefs except when he was on the court, but these briefs were different. He actually liked the way they looked and fit. Ever since he began gaining notoriety he'd been besieged with offers and gifts and he'd gotten a whole shipment of clothing from Abercrombie & Fitch along with an offer to pose in their latest ad campaign. He jokingly flexed his arms into a muscle pose and turned to see his profile in the mirror. He reached into the pouch of the tightie whities and adjusted his dick and balls. Then he shrugged his shoulders, slapped some on deodorant, and opened his locker to get his jeans.

"Nice ass!" a voice said, startling him slightly. He turned to see Pete Sampras and Andre Agassi standing a few feet away.

"What did you say?" Andy asked.

"I said 'Nice match,'" Pete said. "You played really good against Lleyton."

"Yeah, but I lost," Andy said dejectedly. But then a light went on in his head. "You guys were actually at my match?" he asked, excited. Pete Sampras and Andre Agassi - at one of his matches. Wow! They were like his childhood idols. Just the thought of them coming to see him play was more than he had ever expected.

"You didn't think we'd miss the 'future of American tennis,'" Andre said smiling, looking Andy up and down. The teenager was clearly embarrassed at the term. Ever since he'd beaten Pete earlier in the year the media had been all over him. He caught Andre's gaze and he suddenly remembered that he'd forgotten all about getting dressed.

"Ooops," he laughed as he stepped into his jeans. "Sorry about that."

"Nice undies," Andre smirked.

Pete elbowed Andre in the side. "Hey, I wear briefs. There's nothing wrong with them."

"I don't normally wear butt huggers," Andy said, for some reason trying to explain away his underwear as if it matters. "Someone's been stealing my boxers every night. It's the weirdest thing, but it's starting to bug."

"Groupies," Pete explained, Andre nodding in agreement. "Some chick bribes her way in and steals your underwear or something. It's happened to all of us. Believe me, you'll get used to it."

"Really? That's way messed up," Andy said, zipping his jeans and pulling on his Calvin Klein fitted t-shirt. His training regimen over the past several months was finally paying off and his chest had developed nicely. The form-fitting shirt, another gift, showed off his pecs and his jutting nipples.

"What are you doing right now?" Andre asked, shooting Pete a wink.

"Nothing," Andy said, tossing his clothes into his bag and tucking in the t-shirt. "It's kinda late. I hung out a bit afterward until everybody left. I didn't really wanna see anybody, you know? I told my parents to go home and my coach left, too. I was about to call a cab. Why?"

Andre shrugged his shoulders. "Well, Pete and I were hoping you'd want to hang out with us for awhile."

"With you two?" Andy asked, incredulous. "Are you kidding? That'd be awesome!"

"Cool," Andre said, picking up Andy's bag. "I gotta limo out front. We can cruise around for a while. Maybe hit a club."

Andy's eyes widened at the idea of hanging out with the guys. "Yeah. Just let me get grab my stuff."

"Atta boy," Pete said, patting Andy on the back as he zipped his bag and threw it over his shoulder. He let his hand linger a while on Andy's lower back but Andy didn't seem to notice. He also didn't notice that Pete's left hand was behind his back the whole time they had been talking. If he had noticed, he would've seen both his boxers and his sweaty briefs balled up in Pete's fist.

Andy got into the limo. The inside was very posh. There was a TV and VCR, a fully stocked mini-bar, and a long seat running the length of the far side. He sat between Pete and Andre. "Whoah! This is huge! What's the occasion?"

"Perks of being a former champion," Andre said. "It's the only way to ride around in New York." He pulled open a small cabinet and a well-stocked mini-bar popped up. "Drink gentlemen?"

"Don't mind if I do," Pete said.

"Andy?" Andre asked, looking over at the teen.

"Oh, I don't know, guys," Andy said, hesitating.

"Don't tell me you don't drink," Andre said, setting three shot glasses on the bar and filling them with tequila. He sliced a lime into wedges and set it on the bar along with a shaker of salt.

"Sss...sure, I drink," Andy stammered. "Doesn't everybody? I mean... I just figured that it's, uh... kinda late you know, and don't you have to play tomorrow, Pete?" In truth Andy was lying and both Pete and Andre knew it. They knew that Andy had little, if any experience with alcohol, and they were counting on Andy to cave into their pressure.

"Yeah, I gotta play, but it's a night match," Pete said as he grabbed a saltshaker and licked his hand. "Plenty of time to recover." From the corner of his eyes he could see Andy's eyes. He tried to suppress a smile. He handed a lime wedge to Andy along with the salt.

Andy awkwardly imitated the two. He picked up his shot glass and, following their lead, tossed it back. His face scrunched into a scowl as the alcohol burned its way down his throat and he bit into the lime. His body shuddered involuntarily.

"Ahhh," Pete said, slamming his glass onto the bar. He smiled as Andy followed suit.

"How about another one guys?" Andre asked, refilling the glasses as Pete cut three more wedges of the lime.

"Oh yeah," Pete said.

"You bet," Andy agreed, shooting a quick glance to either side. He hoped the guys didn't see his reaction to the first shot.

By the time the limo pulled up to the small, seedy bar, Andy had downed three tequila shots and a beer - more than he had ever drank at one time before - and was well on his way to being drunk. He tried to act like he was sober because he didn't want Pete and Andre to think that he was a wuss and couldn't handle his liquor, but they knew better. In fact, they were hoping for just that.   

"Where are we?" Andy asked, trying hard to not slur his words.

"Just a place a friend owns," Pete said, putting his arm around Andy's shoulders as he steered the buzzed teen down a short flight of stairs and through the front door of the bar. The place looked empty and Andre locked the door behind them.

"Hey, it's about time!" a voice called out. Andy looked up to see Jim Courier poking his head out from a booth near the back.

"We took the scenic route," Andre replied.

"I see you started without me," Jim said, nodding to Pete and Andy.

"Jim Courier? What are you doing here?" Andy asked loudly, drunkenly.

Jim smiled. "The guys called me earlier. Said they were taking you out. Thought I'd join you."

"Wow! This is so fuckin' cool!" Andy said. He didn't curse a lot, but the alcohol had loosened his tongue and lowered his inhibitions.

"Where is everybody?" he asked. The place was empty except for the bartender.

"Don't know," Pete said, as they headed for a large curved booth in the back. "It's kinda late. Plus it's a week night."

"What'll you have?" the bartender asked, wiping his hands on his towel.

"How about three Tequila shots with beer chasers?"

"Uh," Andy stammered, "I don't know, guys. I think I've had enough."

"Oh come, Andy," Jim said. "I was looking forward to partying with you! Afterall, you're the Big Man on Campus now."

Andy smiled sheepishly, his face turning red. "All right," he sighed, "but can I have a Margarita instead? I've never had one of those before."

"You heard the man," Jim said. "Why don't you make that four Margaritas, with four shots of Tequila."

"And make his special," Pete said, nodding toward Andy. "It's his first time."

"You got it," the bartender said, winking at Pete.

Andy looked up at Pete. "What do you mean, it's my first time?"

"Nothing," Pete replied innocently. "It's just your first time having a Margarita. Your first time partying with the big boys."

Andy smiled again. For some reason he couldn't quit grinning. He still couldn't believe he was here with three of his boyhood idols, drinking in a bar. And he wasn't even twenty-one yet! Andre noticed him grinning stupidly and laughed. "What're you smiling about, Andy?"

"This is just so awesome, guys! I mean, I can't believe I'm sitting here with you. I used to worship you guys!"

"Used to?" Pete asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Oh, I mean... oh, geez," Andy stammered. "I think I'm a little drunk."

Pete laughed. "Don't worry about it, kid."

"Thanks. I'm never gonna forget this night."

"Bet your ass you won't," Andre said.

The bartender brought the drinks over on a tray and placed them on the table. He handed a set of keys to Jim and leaned in toward his ear. "Lock up when you leave." Jim nodded and thanked him for the drinks.

Andy's eyes widened when Jim placed his Margarita in front of him. It was almost twice as large as the others. "Uh, guys..." he started.

"Drink up!" Pete said, picking up his shot glass and tossing it back. Jim and Andre did the same. Andy quickly followed suit. He downed the shot in a quick gulp and chased it down with a long drink from his Margarita. The glass was so big he had to use he had to use both hands to hold it.

"Oooh... it's strawberry! Yum," He took another drink. "Mmmm... that's good!" Andy's Margarita was loaded with Tequila. Despite his almost 6'2 frame, he was a lightweight. He was slurring his words and his gestures were broad and animated as he talked.

"It only gets better from here, my friend," Andre said, putting his hands on Andy's shoulders and giving them a squeeze. "It only gets better."

After a few minutes the Margarita was nearly gone and so was Andy. As he looked around he could swear the room was spinning. He found it hard to focus; he just wanted to laugh. He started to wonder why but after a few seconds he forgot what he was thinking. "So... thisss isth what it's like to be drunk, huh?" he asked. The guys looked at him and laughed.

What Andy didn't know was that his drink had also been spiked with a mixture of drugs that would keep his dick hard, his body sensitive to touch, and make him very horny. Best of all, he'd remember very little, if anything, in the morning.

All of a sudden all Andy could think about was how badly he had to piss. "Where's the bathroom, guys?" he asked. "I gotta piss... bad..."

"Right back there, buddy," Andre said, standing up so Andy could make his way out of the booth. Andy slid out and stood up. He had to fight to keep his balance and slowly and awkwardly made his way to the bathroom, trying the whole way to walk straight, still trying to show the guys that he could keep up with them.

"The kid's fuckin' hammered!" laughed Andre. "What a lightweight!"

"We're gonna have some fun tonight, guys!" Pete laughed. "Poor little A-Rod!"

"Yeah, but wait until he gets a taste of A's Rod!" Jim chuckled while shuddering.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Andre said in mock anger. "If I remember correctly, you didn't have any problem with my rod."

"Andre," Pete said calmly, "who out there hasn't tasted your Rod?" Both Jim and Andre joined Pete in a rousing bout of laughter.

A couple minutes later Andy came back from the restroom, staggering and holding the wall the whole way. He wasn't even trying to act sober anymore. All he wanted to do was sit down. Andre got up to let him sit down and he flopped down heavily.

"You'd better get started on your drink, buddy," Pete said, pushing Andy's now re-filled Margarita to him. "You've hardly touched yours and we're almost done with ours."

"Huh?" Andy was confused. "I thought I was done... " He looked at the drink. He could've sworn that it was almost empty when left for the restroom.

"No," Jim said, and the guys concurred. "You've barely touched it. You're not some kind of lightweight, are you?"

"Hell no!" Andy slurred. He looked at his drink again and shrugged his shoulders. He grabbed the glass and took a long drink. He was well on his way to being completely fucked up and had no idea what was going to happen to him.

"Cheers!" Andre said, raising his glass. Pete and Jim followed suit and waited for Andy. Then they all drank a long toast.

Andy giggled as he downed half his drink. He was feeling very warm, as if someone had turned the heat up full blast. "I think I'm fucked up guys," he slurred. His head was a bit wobbly and he leaned against the wall for support.

"Nah," Andre said, sliding closer to the drunk teen and putting his lips to his ear, "you're just plain fucked."

"Hnhh?" Andy slurred, his ear tickled by Andre's hot breath and spittle. He shuddered as a shiver coursed up and down his spine.

Andre took Andy's chin in his hand and looked him straight in the eye. "I said you've just started. Come on, buddy. Don't wimp out on us now." While he had Andy's attention, Jim and Pete were pouring their drinks into Andy's glass.

"Now drink up, buddy," Andre said, taking a sip of his drink.

Andy looked down at his drink and did a double take. "Didn't I just drink like half of this?" he asked, looking from face to face. All he got in return were blank looks.

Pete spoke first. "Uh, Andy, you've been stalling all night. You've hardly drank anything. I'm beginning to think you're a pussy." Jim and Andre nodded.

How naïve is this kid, Andre thought to himself, shooting a glance at Pete and Jim. Andy must've drank almost a third of a fifth and was way past three sheets to the wind. He could hardly sit up straight and was having obvious trouble putting together a coherent sentence.

"I'm no pussy," Andy said, shaking his head vigorously. "Look!" He took his newly filled glass and drained it. Some of the Margarita spilled over his lips and ran down his shirt. "Whoopsie," he said, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and then drying it off on his shirt. "Made a little mess."

"Can't take you anywhere, can we?" Pete laughed.

"Hey, wanna some pool guys?" Jim asked. "Me and Andy against Pete and Andre? Whaddaya say, guys?" He drained his glass and set it down on the table.

"Let's do it," Pete said. "Dre and I are gonna kick your asses!"

"We'll thee about thattt..." slurred Andy, finishing up his Margarita. "I know how to play," he bragged.

"Let's do it then, stud," Andre said, as he slowly slid Andy out of the booth and to his feet. Andy could hardly stand. His long legs kept getting tangled up like a newborn colt trying to stand for the first time. As he continued to trip over his big size 12s, Andre, Jim and Pete helped him over to the pool table in the middle of the room. They sat him on the table and slowly eased him back until he was lying flat on his back.

"Hey, I thought we were playing pool," Andy slurred.

"Change of plans, my friend," Andre said, running his hands up the boozed and drugged up stud's mouth chest. "I think the first thing we need to do is get this wet shirt off of you," he said, tugging Andy's shirt from his jeans. He began to slowly massage the teen's buffed chest, tweaking and twisting his erect nipples.

"Ohhhnnn..." Andy whimpered. He never felt anything like that before. No one had ever touched his tits before, and there was a tongue in his ear that was driving him wild! He tried to turn his head, but Jim held it firmly in place as he flicked his tongue in and out of Andy's ear. He blew a little here and nibbled a little there.

"Guys..." Andy slurred. "Whatt're you doin'? Oh, gawd...!" The tongue was now licking the side of his face. "This is gay... stop..." But the guys didn't stop and soon Andy didn't care any more. It just felt so good. His mind was reeling with everything he was feeling and he found himself giving into all the delicious surprises Jim, Andre and Pete had for him.

Jim took his other hand and put it behind Andy's head. He gently turned Andy's face toward his and let his slobbering tongue trace its way along the drunk stud's Andy's face until it reached his full, young lips. Jim pulled Andy toward him and began to kiss him.

Andy knew he should pull back, but for some reason he found himself returning Jim's soft kisses. He knew he shouldn't be doing this... that it was queer. He wasn't gay. Why was he doing this? It was if he was on autopilot. He felt something at his crotch. He lifted his head off the pool table and, through bleary, drunken eyes, saw Pete massaging his crotch through his jeans. Jim's tongue was now forcing its way into his mouth and for the first time Andy tried to pull back, but couldn't.

Pete unbuttoned Andy's jeans while continuing to massage his cock and ass. His nipples were standing straight out, stimulated from Andre's touch. There was a smattering of hair that led down and into the waistband of the white Abercrombie & Fitch briefs that were peaking out about two inches above the waist of his jeans. Pete leaned in and, along with Andre, began to lick the rubbery points.

"Uhnnnn..." Andy moaned again. "What are you doing to meeee... why are you taking off my clothes...?"

"Initiation," Pete said, smirking while he pulled back from kissing Andy. He reached down and unzipped the fly of Andy's jeans. He spread the material out and a white bulge poked through. He lowered his pants. Andy's briefs were tented with his erection.

"Nice," Pete said, running his hands along Andy's hips. "Damn nice, Andy!" He cupped the kid's bulging crotch and jiggled his balls. Then he traced his finger along the leg opening of his briefs and slipped his finger under the elastic. He tickled at Andy's virgin pucker.

"Unnnhhh... fuck!!!!" Andy cried out. He threw his head back and it slammed into the table.

"Owww..." the dazed boy yelled, rubbing the back of his head. Then he giggled.

While Pete cupped and rubbed Andy's cock and balls, Andre bent down and slipped Andy's shoes off. Then he slid his pants off and sat him up. Andy was now clad in only his briefs and socks.

"Oh, fuck! Why...?" Andy asked, as his mind slid slowly back to reality. Then, just as quickly, the thought disappeared and all he could think of was what his body was feeling.

"Just enjoy yourself," Andre said. "You know you want it"

"Unnhhh... nooo..." Andy whimpered.

"Come on... let's get you up," Andre said, pulling Andy's limp body to a sitting position. "That's it."

"I've got something that'll help get him in the mood," Jim said, pulling small brown bottle from his pocket. He unscrewed the cap and put the poppers under Andy's nose. "Here," he said, "take a nice deep breath of this."

Andy did as he was told and took a long whiff from the bottle. The vapors rushed to his head and his body visibly slumped. "Ooohh... " he moaned in a low voice.

Jim quickly moved the poppers to Andy's other nostril. "Here... try some more."

Andy took another sniff, the aroma setting off mini-sexual bombs in his brain. "Unnnhhh..." he cooed. Whatever the stuff was, it made him all warm and tingly. He felt himself being pulled to his feet.

"Yeah, you love this stuff, don't you," Jim teased, giving the dazed kid several more hits until he was almost floating. Andy staggered and stumbled, barely able to stay on his feet. He was leaning against the guys, completely unaware that they were grabbing at his ass, dick and nipples. Andre grabbed hold of Andy and held him against his body, nibbling at his ear lobes, while Jim and Pete continued to molest his body. While Pete slowly jerked Andy off through his briefs, Jim alternated between flicking Andy's nipples and rolling them between his fingers and thumb.

"Oooohhh... uhhnn..." Andy moaned involuntarily. It all felt sooo good. What the fuck was happening to him? "Oooohhh... mmmnnnnhhhh..." he continued to moan, his body quivering at the touch. Pete could feel the stud's hips thrusting ever so slightly into his hand and he smiled.

"Feels great, doesn't it?" he said, as Andre stuck two fingers between the dizzy stud's lips and slowly and deliberately pumped them back and forth, in and out. The drugged horny teen began to suck them.

"Yeah, he's acting just like Jan-Michael did," Jim said. Jan-Michael Gambill was Andy's best friend on the tour. Two years earlier, when Jan-Michael Gambill had burst on the tennis scene, he had undergone a similar initiation. The "Initiation", so to speak, was nearly legendary by now. Nobody quite remembered when the tradition began, but all the top American players had faced the hazing, the last one being Jan-Michael.

"I remember that night," Pete laughed, thinking back. "In fact, I still have the pictures and the video!" They had gone after Jan-Michael much the same way they were going after Andy. Jan-Michael had been lured out, set up, drugged, and taken advantage of. Funny thing though, instead of rising in the rankings like the other Americans had, Jan-Michael had begun a so slow descent. Sure, he still played well, but he was now busy modeling and there were also those rumors about him and certain company he kept, traveling with him from tournament to tournament. But those were just rumors...

"Let's get you down on your hands and knees, buddy," Andre said, moving Andy to a long, wide bench that was near the pool table. "Come on," he urged, motioning to the bench, "hands and knees."

Andy was still moaning as his tits and cock were being fondled and was aware of being maneuvered onto the bench. He was positioned on his hands and knees as the guys continued to feel up his hot body. Andre lowered his khakis and black silk boxers in one swift motion. He took Andy's chin in his hands. The teen's eyes were glazed as he looked up at his childhood hero. Andre's cock was stiff and glistening with precum and he let the tip run across Andy's face, leaving a shiny trail of juice in its wake. Andre watched as Andy's eyes darted back and forth, trying to focus. "Andy? Are you with us?"

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, barely able to get the words out.

"Oh come on now, Andy," Pete said playfully, "you know you want it." He lowered Andy's briefs and traced his finger up and down the sweaty ass crack a few times. Andy tried to clench his butt cheeks together, but Pete spread them, leaned in and began to tongue the tight pink hole.

Andy's eyes bulged when he felt Pete's tongue in his ass. But there was nothing he could do. He began to feel something else now, too. With his tongue still buried in Andy's ass, Pete was reaching around to both fondle Andy's big balls and to slowly pump his hard, seven inch cock.

With all the alcohol he'd consumed mixing in with the drugs, Andy was slipping in and out of consciousness. When he was aware of what was happening, he tried to avoid the contact, twisting and hunching his young body, but then he'd slip back into his haze, his hormones taking over. Soon he found himself surrendering to the hands of his friends.

"That's good, Andy," he said, speaking softly in a low, lulling tone, watching the young stud's eyes. "Very good. Here, now let me give you something even better to suck on." Keeping his fingers in Andy's mouth, Andre used his other hand to push his pants and boxers down past his hips, his huge cock drooling pre-cum. He withdrew his finger from Andy's sucking mouth and replaced it with his cum-slicked cock. He rocked his hips back and forth slowly, fucking the boy's face.

Andy gagged and tried to spit the monster cock out of his mouth, but Andre grasped the back of his head and thrust it in further, thrusting his hips like pistons. Andy continued to try to push away, but Jim put the poppers to his nose again. "Here Superstar," he cooed, "take a nice deep breath. Yeah.... that's it, boy."

Unable to resist and needing to breathe, Andy took a snort. The vapor filled his head and he cried out and arched his back. Jim quickly switched the bottle to the other nostril.

"That's good," Jim coaxed. "Big, big breath. Come on, do it!"

"Uhhhnnn..." Andy moaned as the intoxicating aroma swirled through his brain.

"Good boy," Pete said, making his move, easing two fingers into Andy's slicked up ass.

"Ohhnnnnn..." Andy was dizzy and confused. And horny. Never before had he felt such sensations! It felt good and he found himself giving in.

While Andre was thrusting his dick in and out of Andy's mouth, Jim was ripping open a condom and unrolling it onto Pete's big cock. He nodded to Andre. Andre pulled his cock out of Andy's mouth and shoved the poppers back under his nose. With one swift thrust Pete shoved his hard cock into Andy's virgin asshole.

Andy breathed in sharply as Pete entered him, getting a big whiff of the aroma. His head was spinning out of control and before he could even scream out, Andre had shoved his big cock back into his mouth. All that could be heard was a muffle. Andre once more began to fuck Andy's face, his hips pumping rhythmically in and out of the dazed teen's mouth. Within moments the young drugged up tennis player was sucking away on his own, like it was a baby's bottle.

Pete was also thrusting his hips back and forth as he rode Andy's tight virgin ass. He wet his fingers, reached up and twisted Andy's red, raw nipples. He pulled at them and tweaked them back and forth. He grabbed Andy's hard, bobbing cock with his other and jerked it roughly.

Andy was so out of it now that he gave in completely to the delicious sensations assaulting his hunky body.

"Mmmmuummppphhhh..." he gurgled, his moans barely slipping past Andre's fat cock.

Then, as if on key, both Pete and Andre came. Andy's ass and mouth were both flooded with cum as the men jerked back and forth, shooting their sticky, creamy jizz. Cum was spilling out of Andy's mouth and Andre firmly stroked his throat to help him to swallow the warm goo. It was too much and Andy's hips bucked as he shot his load into Pete's hand. Pete put it to Andy's mouth and poured it in.

Poor Andy Roddick. Spinning in a drug and alcohol-induced daze while his childhood idols had their way with him. It certainly wasn't the night he would have envisioned, had he been able to think at all right now.

But now it was Jim's turn. He had stripped down completely and stepped in front of the helpless teen. His cock was rock hard and he roughly guided it into Andy's mouth.

"Uhnnn.... unnnhhh...." Jim grunted as he face-fucked the kid. "Take it all, you bitch. Oh yeah..."

"Pull out, Jim," Pete said, withdrawing his dick from Andy's ass and yanking off the condom. "I want to hear him moan and have Andre get a few pictures."

Jim pulled out, but he was so worked up that he couldn't control himself and before he knew it, he was spurting his pent up load all over the cute teenager's face.

"Ohhhh," Andre said, snapping pictures. "You spooged all over his face! Awesome!"

Andy stayed on his hands and knees, too dazed to move. There was cum all over his face and in his hair and it dripped onto the floor. The guys stood by laughing.

They pulled Andy to his feet and Pete helped him step back into his briefs. Then he sat the drugged-up young studlet on his lap.

"Oh, poor Andy," Pete said, rubbing the teen's irritated cock through the soft cotton briefs. "Only nine-teen years old, the Future of American Tennis, handsome, straight... wonder what a tabloid would pay for these pictures of you sucking cock and taking it up the ass?"

"Too bad he doesn't understand a fuckin' word you're saying," Andre said, snapping another picture.

"You know," Jim said, still naked and now stroking his cock. "I never got to finish with him."

For the next couple of hours Pete, Jim and Andre took turns fucking Andy in both his ass and mouth. He was so out of it because of the alcohol, drugs and poppers that he didn't even resist. They each took turns having their pictures taken with the drugged out stud, posing him in various lewd and obscene positions.

They redressed Andy and helped him into the limo. On the drive back to the hotel they couldn't resist kissing the cute teen and feeling him up more.

"I think we got enough on him to keep him in line until the next American prospect comes along," Pete said, stretching.

"Yeah, James Blake is looking pretty good," Andre said.

"So is Mardy Fish," Jim added.

"I'm thinking about the Bryan brothers," Pete said with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Ooooohhh.... twins!" Andre and Jim said in unison, big smiles spreading across their faces.

END

So whaddya think? Type in the code
Reset code