New Balls

The latest story in my Sexy Shorts Collection

Photo by Alina Bondar on Unsplash

It is amazing how small observations can spark stories in my head. Walking through a park on holiday recently I noticed an elegantly dressed blonde woman in her forties walking slowly along with, what I assumed where her adult daughter and the daughter’s boyfriend. She was paying no attention to them, instead she was watching a young man practicing on the tennis courts.

I cannot tell you exactly what she was thinking, but the look on her face suggested it was something similar to this.

Georgina watched the muscles in Tom’s arm flex as he served the ball underarm. She felt her breasts swing despite the sports bra as she stepped sideways and executed a backhand return. The tendons in Tom’s legs rippled as he moved, panther like across the court to send the yellow ball back over the net.

She sprang forward, her long legs stretching out and felt her shorts biting into her thighs. Not as lithe as him, but not bad for forty. The ball dropped against the net. He walked forward, wiping his forehead with his T-shirt, exposing more toned, tanned masculinity.

They stood, the waist-high barrier between them. She pushed a strand of blonde hair back behind her ear. He was what, twenty-something; half her age; confident on the tennis court, but quiet off it. If you met him without a racket in his hand you would say almost shy.

She had to admit, he was the main reason she had booked tennis lessons, unless you counted loosing a few pounds and toning up her body a little.

“Follow through with the backhand, Ma’am,” he said, dancing back and swinging the tennis racket.

She loved the way he called her, Ma’am; noticed that with the other ladies it was always Mrs or occasionally their first name, but she was always Ma’am. “It’s hot,” she said, tempted to lift her top and wipe her head, but then the bra hid most of what she wanted to reveal and her belly curved a little too much. “I need a drink,” she said instead.

“The lesson is finished for today,” he said, smiling.” I have no more students. Do you mind if I join you?”

They sat on the club’s terrace. It was midweek and the courts were empty in the summer heat.

“Oh, this bloody bra.” She pulled at one of the straps under her shirt. “I hate these damn things.” She smiled. “Sorry, too much information.”

He shrugged, the tiniest movement of his shoulders, and glanced towards the changing room. Her eyes followed his gaze, then she looked back at him. “You think I should take it off?”

He looked down at his hands. Without waiting for an answer, she got up and headed for the changing room. Inside, she stripped off the shirt and bra and then pulled the shirt back on. She glanced in the mirror. Her nipples were already aroused and creating peaks in the material. Was she being stupid? Oh, what the hell; a bit of flirting would do her good and besides, bra less was a lot more comfortable.

She returned to the table as casually as she could and sat down. He remained looking down. “I don’t mind if you look,” she said. She did not mind if he did a lot more than look, but she tried to put that thought out of her mind.

Tom lifted his head. His eyes focused on her face and then his gaze dropped. “Do you mind if I say you are very beautiful, Ma’am?” he said.

“Of course not. You can say that as much as you like,” she laughed. “Why do you call me Ma’am?” she asked. “I notice you don’t do it with the other ladies.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just…” He blushed and looked down again.

“It doesn’t offend me,” she smiled. “In fact, I like it.” She leant forward and reached out, her fingertips just brushing the back of his hand.

“I… it’s,” he mumbled.

“Tell me.” Instinctively, her voice was a little sterner.

“I have a fantasy.” He still did not lift his head.

“About me?”

He looked up and glanced around. The terrace was empty. The whole club was silent and deserted. His eyes were fixed on a point somewhere between her chin and the swellings of her nipples beneath the shirt. “I have a fantasy where I am the slave of an older woman, you know, like Roman times, where I have to do what she says.”

Well, he certainly could have been a gladiator with those muscles. She had read somewhere that they had been sent to service the women of the rich, elite houses. She felt her nipples swell a little more and now there was a tingling beneath her shorts. “And I am part of that fantasy?” she said as calmly as she could.

Tom lifted his head slowly until his eyes looked directly into hers. The air was hot, humid, and still, as if a thunderstorm were approaching. “Yes, Ma’am” he said.

Georgina looked around. The tennis club was quiet, but everywhere was open, public; someone could appear at any moment. The tingling beneath her shorts had become a torrent. She crossed her legs to try and dam the tide.

“There’s nowhere here to make it come true,” Georgina said. The changing rooms were the obvious choice, but what if someone walked in? The idea added an extra spark to what she thought she had just suggested, but no, she wanted him all to herself.

“I know somewhere,” Tom said.

Georgina nodded, suddenly unable to speak. It was as if someone was gripping her throat. She stood up, her legs feeling as if she had played two matches back to back, and followed Tom around the back of the building.

Beneath the trees, set back from the main clubhouse, was a small brick built building that looked little more than a shed. Tom pulled the door open and she followed him inside. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the gloom. The room smelt musty. The concrete floor was swept clean and there were a few tools and old net posts piled in one corner, but otherwise it was empty.

“It used to be the groundsman’s store before the courts were relaid,” Tom said in response to her unasked question. He closed the door and stood looking at her. The tension in the air seemed to have built to a peak. Georgina could feel the static pricking at her skin.

Neither of them moved. His fantasy, what he had said was true; he was waiting for her command. “Strip,” she said.

She watched in awe as he kicked off his trainers, pulled his T-shirt over his head and shucked off his shorts. His erection stood out, a hard rod of flesh standing proud. She stepped close to him and ran her fingertips along the solid veined flesh. She imagined it inside her, thrusting with the power and vigour of youth; could she contain herself, be patient. “Kneel.” It was almost a whisper.

He sank to his knees, his mouth level with her sex. She unbuttoned her shorts. “Take them off.” He pulled her shorts down and she stepped out of them. “And those.” He peeled her knickers off with the expression of a man discovering hidden treasure.

Georgina rested her hand on his head, guiding him forward. She felt the first touch of his tongue parting her labia, slipping inside her and sending shivers up her spine. His mouth sucked at her lips and she began to grind against him.

His tongue found her nub and the first sparks shuddered through her. Her legs felt weak and her fingers bunched in Tom’s dark hair as she fought to stay upright. Eyes half-closed she looked around the room. The concrete floor looked hard and uninviting. There was only one way.

Georgina broke away from Tom’s mouth and spun around to face the wall. Palms flat against the bricks she pushed out her ass. “Fuck me,” she commanded. Tom was on his feet in seconds. The smooth head of his cock slid between her pussy lips and his hands slipped under her shirt to cup her breasts.

Then he was inside her, filling her with lust. She ground back on his shaft as she felt it pushing deep into her core. She bucked, the room, the wall in front of her blurred and then his fingers pinched at her nipples pushing her over the edge. The storm broke as she emitted a roar like thunder and the torrent burst inside her.

They stayed locked together as the slowly waning lightning pulsed through her. She slipped off his shaft and turned to face him. Her hand slid between Tom’s legs and cupped his balls, her palm moving as if selecting which one to serve with.

“Come,” Georgina said. “We will continue this somewhere more comfortable, but I warn you, you will be punished severely for not bringing your Mistress to somewhere more suitable.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Tom said, a slight smile flickering across his face as he attempted a look of remorse.

I have a feeling this is to be continued…

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