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Archive-name: Couples/racquet.txt

Archive-author: 

Archive-title: Racquetball?





My most recent SO and I had been playing racquetball together for several

months.  One day when we went to play, it was obvious that we were both

feeling a little "frisky".  When we got to the court and I bent over to

touch my toes (stretching the backs of my legs) she placed a hand on my

tush (I've always thought that was nicer than saying "ass") and slid it

down to my balls. 

    "Did you remember to bring some fresh balls for us to play with

today?" she asked.

    "Yes, but they're not *THERE*" I replied, as I stood up and kissed

her.

    Then she turned around and bent over to touch her toes, ostensibly

to stretch her legs.  I made sure to run a hand down over her tush and

lightly graze the little bulge her labia made between her legs.  

    She giggled and asked "Are you you warmed up enough to start

playing *RACQUETBALL* now?"

    "Yes" I replied.  "How many points do you want?"

    "Better make it 5 again" she replied in a disgusted voice.

and we started in playing a game.

    When we had taken up the sport, we found we had approximately the

same aptitude for it.  This had been great.  Neither one of us had

dominated the other, and we both got a good workout.  Over the last couple

of weeks, however, it had become obvious that my skill at the game was

increasing faster than hers was.  It wasn't that she wasn't improving, it

was just that I had hit that stage when several aspects of the game

suddenly come together.  I knew that she would reach that stage in her own

way in her own time, but in the meantime, she was impatient. 

    "You're getting too good at this" she complained after missing a

particularly lucky corner shot of mine.  "It's no fun to loose outright to

you and it's just not the same when I win if you've spotted me 5 points to

begin with.  There's just not as much meaning or sense of victory."

    "Do you want to quit?" I asked a little hesitantly.

    "Well...  not really.  It just gets frustrating sometimes" she

replied.  Then she got a devilish look on her face and came close and

reached down to stroke the front of my shorts.  "You understand

frustration?" she taunted in a sultry voice, stopping just as I started to

get hard underneath her hand. 

    "Hmmm.  Maybe we could add a little extra meaning to winning" I

said.

    "How?" she said, the seduction gone from her voice.

    "Well, how about a game of 'strip racquetball'?"

    "Are you kidding?  What if someone sees us?"

    "Nobody's going to see us, there's only that little eye-slit in the

doorway.  Besides, you saw how deserted this place was when we came in."

    "We can't take off shoes or socks, this game would be impossible

without them." she said.

    "Well, how about this: shoes and socks stay on, and don't count in

the clothing count."

    "I don't know, how are we going to compensate for playing abilities?"

    "Well, you've got four pieces of clothing to my three."

    "Not good enough, Mister."

    "Okay, how about this, you only take something off for every two

points I make instead of for every one, and I get to count my head band."

    "Okay, but you still spot me 5 points and I get to serve first"

    "Hey, this isn't a hand-out, it's supposed to be a challenge,

remember?"

    "Okay then, we'll flip my locker key to see who serves."

    "Hmmm.... I guess."

    "Call it in the air, number side or logo side."

    "Logo."

    "You serve."

 

It definitely changed the nature of our game.  I had not counted points well

enough to realize that I would have to score 12 points to get her naked,

while she would only have to score four points.  When the thought hit me

after the first four points (2 mine, 2 hers) I complained.

    "Hey, you were the one who suggested it, not me.  We're not going

to change the rules in the middle of a game." she said.

    I noticed however, that her nipples were very prominent under her

bra.  I scored another point and she removed her bra and put it in the

corner.  

    "What? Not going to take off the shorts first?" I asked, a little

surprised at her giving up the bra so easily.

    "You're complaining?" she retorted, shaking for me a little.

    "No. Not at all."

    "Then serve." she commanded.  I stared for a moment at her

beautiful, glowing form and then turned around to serve.  From then on I

was a basket case.  She very quickly scored two more points and I was

completely naked on the court.  I just couldn't concentrate on the game

with her bouncing around the court next to me.  On top of it all, I was

getting a royal hard-on that wasn't helping either.

    "Well, congratulations"  I said.  "How does it feel to win now?"

    "Oh, no you don't.  A game is 15 points" she replied.

    "What?!  You want me to finish the game like this?!"

    "That's right, turkey.  Now take your dick and get back there, it's

still my serve."

 

    I did manage to get her undressed before she won the game, but she

was only naked for one point.

 

    "I think I could get to like this game again." she said.  "It's fun

watching you bounce and swing all over the court.  Especially when you're

hard and try to do a power serve."  With that she reached out with her

racket and lightly tapped my dick to one side and then the other.

    "I can't say that I didn't enjoy watching you either" I

said, running my finger down the line of sweat that went from her

collarbone down between her breasts.

 

We wrapped our arms around each other and our warm, slippery bodies pressed

together as we shared a wonderfully delicious kiss. 

 

    "There's just one problem", I said, drawing back.  "This place isn't

usually so deserted when we play."

    "Mmmm.  That's okay" she purred as she drew circles in my chest hair. 

"You've given me and idea of something we can play for on a regular basis."

    "What's that?" I asked

    "Oh you'll find out next time" she taunted.  Then her face changed

and she gave me that look that I love to see and said "Come on, let's get

back into our clothes and go get showered and get out of here."

    "No argument from me" I replied as we gathered up our clothes and

equipment and headed for the locker rooms. 

    "Last one out of the shower has to wash the gym clothes!" she said

as she slipped in to the women's locker room.



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