The Tennis Club, First Set

That summer long, long ago, is a part of my life I shall always look back on with great affection. I had just left the cloistered environment of a boys' boarding school and was looking forward to the long summer break before starting uni in the autumn. I had no plans, no commitments and relatively few cares.
Having spent all my school days in various boys' schools and not having sisters, the female of the species was a complete mystery. One I was keen to investigate, but a mystery none the less.
I knew they had breasts; the term boob wasn't used back then; they were breasts in polite conversation or tits to us boys. We all pretended we knew all about them, but in fact our knowledge was limited to one of the few racy publications of the day.
As for what went on between their legs; that was a complete unknown. The diagrams in the biology books gave no hint of the erotic delights to be found in that particular location. Let's face it, a diagram of a vagina and some ovaries with an egg making its way along a fallopian tube is not the stuff of erotic fantasy, so that bit was all unknown territory.
However, although I was keen to find out, it wasn't ruling my life like cricket or tennis. So, I was of a mind to just enjoy life and see what happened. A girl friend would be nice but not the top priority.
My parents had moved house during my last year at school and I hadn't had much opportunity to make friends in the new area.
I had been rather good at tennis at school and obviously enjoyed watching it on television, although mostly in black and white, as colour TVs were pretty scarce back then.
One of my priorities was the local tennis club where, in my mother's words, I would meet people of my own age, and I was lucky enough to have access to her little car to get me there and back. After a week of lolling about at home doing nothing, generally being a lazy nineteen-year-old, I decided to go and investigate.
I discovered that there was coaching available and different groups played on different days or different times. I obviously joined the younger set where I met a few like minded boys and one or two girls!
Bob was the coach, he was an elderly man, that is to say in his forties, but that was ancient to me at the time. He was obviously athletic, fit and assumed the roles of mentor, coach and rogue uncle.
Rogue uncle because he used expressions to us youngsters that our parents never used, like tits. I know it sounds very tame by today's standards but none of us had ever heard an adult use that expression. What he said to the girls, I have no idea, but I am willing to bet he was just as avant guard. One of his favourite expressions for return of service was,
"Try and get it between her legs." Usually with a slight smirk, knowing that we had less than pure thoughts about getting something in that particular region.
Two of us shone in Bob's eyes and he was keen to cultivate us. Eventually he suggested that Dave, my new pal, and I join the Saturday morning group which was mostly adults. Dave was less than enthusiastic because he had designs on a tall willowy blond girl in our group, but I was happy to give it a go.
There was a lot of doubles played on Saturday, probably because of the size of the group and trying to get as many games in as possible. It was here I learned the joys of mixed doubles. Bob seemed to set up the pairings and I frequently found myself playing with Anne.
She was about thirty, tall with long blond hair, noticeably small tits, but a totally delicious bottom. She was married, but her husband didn't play, and I used to follow that pert little bum round the court like a well-trained puppy. To my shame, I spent far too much time imagining the delights that were revealed to her husband as she slipped out of her tennis gear, to the expense of my concentration.
Anne used to bring her friend, Carol, who was, as is so often the case, rather the opposite. Carol was shorter than average with a much fuller figure. She was, I think, half Italian, had olive skin, bronzed legs, powerful thighs and a thoroughly remarkable chest, all topped off by short, spiky died blond hair. I am pretty sure our schoolboy vocabulary would have described her tits as jugs and, when Anne and I played against her, the distraction factor of her jiggling breasts gave them a significant advantage. Not to mention Bob's words ringing in my ears, "Try to get it between her legs." The thought of getting anything between those toned bronzed and powerful thighs was the stuff of fantasy.
Frequently, after all the matches had been played, she and Anne would chat over a drink and sometimes they included me, much to my surprise as they were that much older. I would like to say, much to my delight as well, but I had often just spent a considerable part of our match ogling either Anne's bottom or Carol's chest and, to be honest, I was rather embarrassed. It was always difficult to know where to look when chatting to Carol.
The summer Taksim travesti wore on and the friendship grew, to the point where I had overcome my anatomical fixations and was rather enjoying the company of the 'visitors from planet girl' or more accurately 'planet woman'. I confess my lewd thoughts about Anne stripping off in front of her husband recurred from time to time, but at least I could chat with both of them without it being my sole preoccupation and I was fascinated when the conversation took a slightly risqué turn, which it did from time to time.
On one particular occasion Anne alluded to the fact that she was planning to have sex with her husband that evening and that really got my imagination tumbling. Actually, all she said was something about a romantic evening, but the wink that accompanied the remark was what set it all off. Carol remarked,
"Easy on Anne, you'll embarrass the lad!" Only served to confirm my suspicion and the image of a stark-naked Anne, flat on her back, with her legs in the air, revealing the mystery of what was concealed between her slender thighs, filled my brain for the rest of the afternoon.
As the tennis drew to a close one Saturday, I noticed Anne wasn't about. Carol came over to me and explained that she had had to go early, and could I possibly give her a lift home. It really wasn't far out of my way and, even if it had been, I would, of course, have said yes.
"I can't very well go prancing round the streets dressed like this." She explained, indicating her short skirt and somewhat tight tennis top which, even with the added help of her sports bra, totally failed to hide the dual protrusions of her rather pert nipples.
The drive to Carol's house was uneventful except that I couldn't help noticing that rather a lot of well toned, bronzed thigh was on display now that her short skirt had ridden even further up in the low car seat, not to mention her well developed chest adding to the pleasant scenery.
"Coffee?" She said on arrival. I was taken aback as I was not expecting it, but not wishing the encounter to come to an end, I readily accepted.
"Or perhaps you'd prefer a beer," she said flicking the switch on the kettle. Coffee, back then, almost certainly meant instant, which was O.K. but the thought of a beer was just too tempting.
She reached up into a high cupboard for a glass and I had a magnificent view of the full length of her toned thighs as her skirt rose up, and more than a glimpse of her bum, tightly encased in white cotton panties. I quickly averted my gaze so as not to get caught peeking and prevent the embarrassing possibility of a swelling in my shorts.
She made a coffee and poured the beer. Shortly afterwards she announced that she 'smelled like a bear' and was going to take a quick shower. Showers in ordinary houses were very rare at that time and I was somewhat envious, we certainly didn't have one. I took this as my cue to go, so I swigged a large mouthful of beer and made as if to leave,
"Better get going." I said, ruefully.
"No need, I won't be two ticks. Just enjoy the beer and I'll be right back. Besides there is something I want to ask you." She shot off upstairs before I had time to think.
Inevitably the image of Carol taking a shower filled my youthful brain. I heard the water running and couldn't help but imagine her pulling off her top, undoing her bra and freeing those magnificent tits. What came next? The skirt of course. It fell to the floor in my musing and then she stepped out of those recently glimpsed, white cotton panties.
She was naked now, stepping into the streaming water and soaping herself all over. My imagination was running away with me, and I had to try to stop it for fear of provoking an erection. Fortunately, the water suddenly stopped flowing and I desperately tried to banish the thought of her drying her voluptuous form from my mind.
I looked around the kitchen, as a diversion, when the door burst open and a voice announced,
"That's better. No more bear!"
Of course I heard bare rather than bear! But then I was only nineteen, with as you know by now, a somewhat overactive imagination. I turned to see Carol draped in a huge wrap around dressing gown, tied in a big bow at the front and her hair wrapped in a towel in a way only girls know how to do.
"How's the beer?"
"Fine thanks," I replied trying to process all the information my oversexed brain was absorbing.
She was in a dressing gown! She was probably naked underneath!
"Another?"
"No thanks, better not."
"Well, before you go, I need to talk to you."
I probably sat there just gaping. What happens if that dressing gown falls open?
"It's about Anne. You have probably noticed she's not around much these days." I had to admit I had, because I was being moved from partner to partner. "Please keep it to yourself for now but, in case you don't know, she's pregnant."
Bombshell! I most certainly Taksim travesti didn't know. First thought, there goes my doubles partner. Second thought, there is only one way to get pregnant! I know it sounds obvious now, but then I couldn't help but realise that she'd been 'doing it'.
A vivid picture of Anne splayed wantonly on her bed, stark naked, welcoming her husband to that mysterious place between her legs, flooded my brain. Just as my imagination was getting to the really lewd bit my reverie was interrupted.
"So, I was wondering if you'd be my partner for the rest of the season?"
Coming down to earth with a bump, I quickly processed the request.
"I'd love to."
"Great! That's settled then." And we chatted on as I finished my beer, then left.
As Anne was no longer playing tennis, I got in the habit of picking Carol up and dropping her home. Carol and the kitchen scene were replayed frequently. She rushed off upstairs to shower and I tried not to let my imagination run riot, often without success.
One afternoon she emerged carrying a hair dryer.
"I really have to dry my hair and didn't want to abandon you. Would you do it for me please?"
I had no idea how to go about this fundamental task of female primping, but I reasoned that it couldn't be that difficult, so I agreed.
"Not too hot! Second setting will be fine!" As she sat down on a stool in front of a small mirror, presumably to check on my progress.
I slid the slider to medium heat, having been shown how, when she magicked a hairbrush from the dressing gown pocket, and I set to work. It felt strangely intimate as I'd never dried a girl's hair before, and my own short cut didn't require that level of attention.
This innocent task was about to be my undoing. As I swept around with dryer and brush, I couldn't help but notice that when she leaned forwards, the front of the dressing gown gaped open, giving me a grandstand view down the considerable chasm between her generous breasts.
The temptation was overwhelming, and I spent more time on the back of her neck than was strictly necessary. On one particular pass she leaned so far forwards that I was treated to not only a view down her cleavage but the full view of an entire breast including the dark circle round her pink nipple. My first!
It was my undoing because it brought me swiftly to erection, which was difficult to conceal, but worse, much worse, was that she was looking in the mirror and caught me peeking! Mortified, but her reflection just smiled back at me.
She stood up and turned round to face me. I couldn't believe I had been so stupid. I had probably ruined the first real friendship with a person from planet girl, not to mention losing my doubles partner. I must have blushed bright purple as I tried to formulate some sort of apology.
Carol took the hairdryer from my hand and set it down. She took my hand and guided it towards her breast leaning forwards on tip toes and kissed me lightly on the lips.
"It's O.K." She said as she led my hand, open palm, onto the outside of the dressing gown. She raised her lips to mine for another light kiss.
"It's really O.K. Just be gentle." And guided my hand through the gaping front of her dressing gown towards the softest, warmest, most erotic sensation of my life so far. We kissed, actually, I think she kissed me, for I was not a particularly experienced kisser. I'd kissed certainly but not like that, and certainly never with a full breast in one hand.
She broke from the embrace, gently removing my hand and tightening her dressing gown.
"I think that's enough excitement for one day." I took this as my signal to leave, which was just as well as I suspected that I couldn't take much more eroticism without the inevitable conclusion and in white tennis shorts, that would be beyond embarrassing.
In my naiveté I was unsure of how that left our friendship. She had made all the running, but only after I had been caught peeking at her tits. I was still pondering as I made my way to the front door when she opened it, kissed me lightly on the lips and said.
"See you Saturday, usual time." Relief!
I collected her the following Saturday. We played the following Saturday. I took her home the following Saturday.
"Coffee or beer?" Now I'm getting excited!
I opt for a beer, expecting Carol to scamper up stairs for her shower, then return, then, then!! I don't know exactly what I expected but I knew it was going to be exciting.
Much to my surprise and, I have to say, disappointment, she didn't. Instead, she too had a beer and we sat together on the sofa.
"How long have we been playing together?"
I replied that I wasn't sure.
"I think it's probably five weeks. For five weeks I have been coming home, taking a shower and coming down in my dressing gown. For five weeks you have been the perfect gentleman, never taking advantage of the situation. Never once have you tried anything. Travesti taksim That is, until I saw you looking down the front of my dressing gown last week. God, how I waited for that moment."
I couldn't believe what I had just heard! She had been expecting it?
She leaned towards me and kissed me, deeply. I responded passionately; the memory of that large firm breast forever etched in my brain. Dare I hope to be allowed more of the same. I reached tentatively for the t shirt, bra encased, object of my desire. She let me fondle her through the layers of fabric, as I got more and more excited.
"We both smell like bears!" As she backed away from the kiss. Frankly I didn't care what we smelled like, nothing could could have mattered less, my only interest was to seek out her breast again, to feel that warmth and firmness weighing heavily in the palm of my hand.
She stood up, offered me her hand, and pulled me to my feet. Without a word she led me out of the door and up the stairs. I could not believe what was happening; surely not. We entered her capacious bathroom, long before the days of en suite being fashionable, and she turned on the shower. I think I expected her to give me a towel and leave, actually my mind was in such a turmoil, I have no idea what I expected, but realisation struck as she closed the door.
What together? Surely not!
Facing me, with a wicked grin on her face she removed all doubt from my mind by popping the button on the waist band of my tennis shorts. I stood transfixed, unsure of whether to be excited or terrified. No female had ever undressed me, or seen me naked, let alone with the prominent erection I now had, but the desire to see her magnificent breasts, unencumbered by that dressing gown helped me get over the excruciating embarrassment. She lowered my shorts!
Taking a step back, she pulled the t shirt over her head, reached round her back and released the clasp on her bra. I remember being fascinated that it didn't just fall away! Such was the fit of the cups on her large breasts that she had to wriggle it free, and it dropped to the floor.
Two bare breasts! Brain overload!
The next victim of her attention was my t shirt but, being that much taller, I had to help by pulling it over my head. As I did, I felt her hands on the sides of my underpants and in a matter of seconds I was stark naked in front of a mature woman for the first time ever.
Carol slipped the zip on her skirt, let it fall and put her arms around my waist. Dressed only in her panties she squashed her breasts onto my chest, clasped my naked bum and reached up to kiss me lightly on the lips.
"You or me?" She said, backing away and hooking her thumbs provocatively into the top of her panties. "Probably best be me," and started to lower them. I, of course, experienced man of the world that I wasn't, stood there gaping.
Her panties were coming off! Oh my god! I am about to see my first ever naked woman. Only a week ago I had touched my first ever naked breast, now I am stark naked and about to see a naked woman.
The lowering of her panties continued provocatively and slowly revealed my very first view of a vagina. Actually, it didn't. What it did reveal was a veritable forest of jet-black pubic hair, but it was as sexy as hell.
Where to look? Breasts? Vagina, or pubes at least? Bum?
"Come on then. Mustn't waste all this hot water," and taking my hand, climbed up the step into the shower with me in tow, closing the doors behind us.
She turned round under the torrent of refreshingly hot water, several times, and I watched fascinated as it flowed over her head, down over her breasts then followed the sensuous curve of her belly, over her dark forest between her legs and on downwards to the floor.
I was stunned by just how relaxed she was, stark naked, turning under the shower with me just gawping at her body. Eventually she invited me to soap her back. Her olive skin was a uniform colour from neck to toe and contrasted with the whiteness of the lather as the mixture flowed gracefully over her well toned buttocks. The slipperiness was as delightful as it was unexpected.
She turned round, obviously expecting me to carry on soaping. If fondling her breast through her gaping dressing gown was erotic, and it certainly was, soaping her naked breasts with their stiff little nipples was beyond description.
The flowing water and suds ran down her front, over the swell of her navel and down into the forest between her legs. The wet hair was no longer able to conceal the delights it had so carefully hidden when dry. The beautiful cleft of her vagina was finally revealed.
She gently took the soap from my hands, told me to turn around and started soaping my back. This was bliss in itself, but when the hands reached my buttocks, the sensory overload was almost total. More was to come.
"Just relax." Said the voice behind me. Thoughts of relaxing were far from my mind. I had just soaped my first naked woman and she was now soaping my back and buttocks. I had never been more tensed up.
Her next move was as unexpected as it was erotic. I felt her breasts on my back, her soft wet pubes on my bum, as her soapy hands reached round the front and grasped my erection.