Slumped in fatigue outside the door to his Mallorcan apartment, Rafael Nadal searched frustratedly through his pockets for the key that would let him back into the small flat that he saw so little of. The weight of defeat lay heavy on his disappointed shoulders; why fate had harshly spat on him he still could not comprehend. He had been so close, so close to tasting the cool metal of the Australian Open trophy for the second time, so close to biting his 14th Grand Slam cup, so close to Xisoming the first man in the Open Era to win every single major at least twice. But bad luck had taken him down, striking him with a back injury in a match against an opponent who he was the overwhelming favourite to beat.
Finally, after minutes of rummaging, Rafa found the small key buried deep inside his pocket. Slotting it into the lock, he noticed the stiffness as it turned, a testament to how rarely he used his apartment, how rarely he was home. That, however, was the only resistance he faced and with a push, he was back home at long last.
Sighing in relief, Rafa let his bags fall from his shoulders into a pile on the floor. From the inside of one, the runner up's trophy of the Australian Open glinted in the afternoon light, taunting him about the painful loss. The tennis great looked away, determined not to get emotional again. Looking around, Rafa noticed that the apartment was squeaky clean; Xisca had obviously tamed it during his month long absence and he loved her for it. With a pained grimace, he stretched his back, rubbing his hand gently against his spine in the aching region. Although painkillers and time had considerably lessened the pain that he'd forced himself to play through just days before, one wrong movement could send it back into the stinging condition that he found so difficult to bear.
The Spaniard limped to the sofa, clutching his back with every step. Slumping down onto the light material, he knew that it was good to be back home. The sun shone comfortingly through the large window, light reflecting off the large expanse of Mediterranean water on the beach below. Where better a place to recover from such a terrible loss than Mallorca?
Just minutes later, the familiar scratch of a key scraping against the lock sounded and Rafa heaved himself up. The door swung open and Xisca, a shopping bag in each hand, entered the room. Quickly, she noticed her boyfriend waiting on the sofa. The bags fell from her hands.
"Rafa!" She gasped, running over to embrace her boyfriend.
A smile spread across the Spanish tennis player's face as she crashed into him. They saw each other so little, what with Rafa's travels and Xisca's work.
Their lips clashed together, conveying the message that they both wanted to convey without words: how much they had missed each other. When they finally released each other, Xisca frowned at him, stroking his hair lovingly.
"I saw the final."
It was the elephant in the room, the one thing that lay most heavy on Rafa's mind at that moment yet also the one thing that Xisca knew was most ill-advised to mention.
Rafa didn't reply. Memories flashed back to him of feeling his lower back twinge in the warm up, the cold feeling of dread washing like a river of ice through his veins, the boos of the crowd when they had thought that he was faking it, the tears at the changeovers, the hours of fighting through the pain to give an unappreciative crowd their money's worth. And then there had been the runner's up speech, when Rafa's tears had finally convinced the crowd that, as ever, he was genuine. That redemption, however, had been little consolation as he had watched Stan, a dear friend, kiss that trophy rather than him.
"I thought that it was the bravest thing that I've seen in a long time, you playing on like that." Xisca told him softly, before turning her tone more suggestive. "If you're lucky, I'll reward you for it later."
A smile broke out on Rafa's face; he was home. He was back with his beloved Xisca. All was going to be okay.
"Thanks, Xisca." He smiled at her. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to have a shower."
Rafa stepped out of the shower, wonderfully warm water trickling down his muscled body in a steady flow. Quickly drying himself off, he felt fresher than he had done in days; he was back home, he had enjoyed a long, relaxing shower but most importantly, he had seen his girlfriend again. Wrapping the towel around his waist as he had done so many hundred times before, the best tennis player in the world unlocked the bathroom door and stepped into the bedroom which he shared with Xisca.
Lying naked in the centre of the king sized bed that Rafa didn't sleep in often enough was the beautiful girl, a thin layer of sweat covering her tanned skin as she waited for him. She'd let her hair free in just the way that he loved it most, sending it cascading in curls down her shoulders like a chocolate waterfall. Her body was thin but toned, with long, muscled, smooth legs stretching endlessly and small breasts capped with little pink nipples waiting invitingly. She smiled at him lustfully, excited about doing what they got to do so much less than they would have liked.
Rafa felt his manhood stir under his towel. "Is the door locked?"
Xisca nodded, Xiskoning for him to join her on the bed.
"I hope you know how beautiful you are," the tennis player smiled as he walked over. He was telling the truth and she smiled at the compliment, sending rays of light reflecting from the whiteness of her teeth. In Rafa's mind, there was no more beautiful a sight in the world than his girlfriend's smile, and the fact that she didn't have any clothes on only enhanced that experience. As he sat, she pushed him onto his back, climbing gently on top of him with a mischievous expression.
"I'll be in charge today," she told him. "We wouldn't want to hurt your poor back any more, so just lie back and let me do my thing."
Rafa was not going to complain; seeing his consent, Xisca pushed her fingers under the towel that lay between them and pushed it off, leaving him bare to her eyes. They both loved this, being totally exposed to another, having nothing to separate their soft, tanned skins, being in a state of undress that nobody else would ever see. When alone, the couple loved to spend as much time naked as possible.
Xisca let out a moan of approval, her eyes flicking down to the part of her boyfriend that she was most interested in at that moment. It twitched and grew under her loving examination.
"I always forget just how big it is when you go away." She whispered, clenching her fingers gently around its head. It had been a month since they'd last done this and although she'd had to experience such droughts of sex countless times since her relationship with the famous tennis player had begun, it had never got any easier.
Rafa gasped as Xisca's left hand cupped his balls and her right hand gently lifted his soft and sizeable member. She held him and squeezed, then stroked the head a little bit before beginning to work the shaft rhythmically, easily arousing him.
"Oh, yes! That's good!" Rafa encouraged. He could see his girlfriend smile widen wolfishly as his organ stiffened and his girth expanded in her hand. In a very short time he was fully aroused, over eight inches of pure male delight for Xisca.
"Look at how big you are, Rafa!" Xisca cooed, rubbing her palm against the now reddish-purple head of his cock. She squeezed his shaft so the head swelled even more, then pulled back on his erection and let go, so it slapped lewdly against his belly.
Enjoying the view, tracing her fingernails down his right arm, she mounted his chest and worked her way down his body, backwards, rubbing her arse over his manhood. Enjoying her control, Xisca pumped his shaft with long, slow strokes and played with his balls. Occasionally she would let go and allow his erection slap back and lie at its natural aroused angle, pointing towards his handsome but flushed face. Then she would stroke the tennis player's stiff dick from head to balls and back again, murmuring words of adoration. Grabbing him again, she traced her fingernail lightly around the underside of his cock head, making him moan despite himself. Then she ran her hands across the underside of his shaft, down to his balls and back up again. She was totally and truly enjoying this lesson in male-anatomy.
Rafa smiled lovingly at her from his position on the bed. This was something that he had missed to an extent that words could not describe, a clothes-less Xisca clambering over his body, doing what she did better than anybody he had ever met. Not a stitch of clothing separated them; they were totally exposed to each other, her soft, naked skin on his.
"I'm gonna give you the best blowjob ever, Rafa. Ever," Xisca whispered in the world number one's ear, catching his lips in hers before beginning a slow kissing descent down his chest.
Rafa spread his legs and she crawled between, taking up residence and getting positioned to suck him. She placed her hands high on his thighs and continued licking and kissing her way across his stomach. She corralled her hair to one side so he could watch her pretty face minister to his throbbing cock. As she pursed her lips and kissed the bulbous head Xisca looked up at her boyfriend and smiled.
Xisca hunched between Rafa's legs and moved her hands into the action. Her left hand cupped his smoothly shaved scrotum and her right hand gently encircled the base of his shaft and steered his rigid hardness toward her mouth. She licked and kissed her way up and down the length several times before jerking the end slowly with circled fingers as she guided his balls, one at a time, into her mouth. She sucked each with lots of heavy breathing and moaning, then began a long slow journey, head sideways, along the ridge on the underside of his shaft. As she got toward the tip, she dallied at that spot just an inch or so down from the head, and concentrated her efforts. Opening her mouth wide, she captured the whole underside between her lips as her tongue swept in circles and washed the tip with lots of saliva.
