R18+
It was late afternoon at the neighbourhood tennis club. The social set had long departed and now the jostling talk amongst the steadily dwindling group of boys had ended with the last of his schoolmates having been picked up.
He heaved the sports bag across his shoulders and headed back towards the shaded rest area. Concealed behind the building, it didn’t amount to much, a few plastic tables and chairs with a refreshments machine in the corner, but it was somewhere to sit and recuperate while he waited for his father.
Tall for a fifteen year old, he walked with the stooping gait of a teenager constantly surprised by his own growth. His hand automatically brushed the flies away from his face. It was a face still innocent of its emerging sensuality, with thick mouth and a pair of deliberative Mediterranean eyes half-hidden beneath an untamed exuberance of black hair.
He came around the back and stepped cautiously into the cool darkness of the rest area, so as not to collide with anything while his vision was still adjusting from the bright sunlight outside.
“Hello.”
A female voice, husky, from somewhere near the back.
He raised his hand in acknowledgement.
“Hi.”
“Would you like a cold drink?” Her voice inviting.
He stood, swaying slightly under the weight of his bag, uncomfortably aware of the dampness of the shirt clinging to his back.
It was becoming lighter under the canopy and he could make out a sleeveless tennis top and the creamy curves of her cleavage.
“Well, do you want a drink or don’t you?”
“Umm, yes. Thanks.”
A pair of long legs uncrossed themselves. She moved into the glow of the machine. He heard the coins tumbling in and the machine clunk in response. As she bent over to retrieve the drink, her tennis skirt slipped up until he could see up her legs, all the way to where lacy bikini briefs stretched tight across her otherwise uncovered buttocks.
He averted his gaze. She straightened gracefully and returned to the nearby table.
“Put your bag down. Come and sit with me.”
He sat obediently. She leaned across the table to place his drink, her breasts pressing against her bra.
She looked to be in her mid-thirties. The impish charm of her beautiful face reminded him of a French movie actress whose name he couldn’t quite recall. Coiled strands of blonde hair were tied high above her bare neck. A gold chain followed the soft contours below her throat.
Her tawny flecked eyes considered him gravely while he gulped convulsively at his drink.
She raised her right arm onto the chair alongside, exposing her bare armpit and the smooth cusp of breast alongside.
With an involuntary intake of breath, he inhaled the fragrant traces of her smouldering scent.
“You are good-looking, young man. What’s your name?” Her voice was low and pleasant, with a rising lilt at the end.
“Jeremy,” he stammered, his heart beating violently.
She smiled and a pair of dimples softened her cheeks.
“I’m Gail.”
She picked a scorecard up from the table and fanned herself languidly.
“It’s so hot.”
She undid the last two buttons of her lime-coloured top and delicately parted the edges to reveal the full valley of her breasts, right down to the base of her bra.
His world rocked momentarily.
She leaned across the table, lips parted. There was longing in her eyes. “Kiss me, Jeremy,” she whispered.
He recoiled, scared.
“I can’t.” But he grew hard as his loins rebelled against his apprehensive mind.
“Yes you can. Just one kiss, here on my cheek.”
He pushed the chair back and stood up, his mind swirling in a tumult of conflicting emotions.
“I can’t. My dad will be here soon.”
“But he’s not here now, is he?” Her voice calm and reasonable.
She twisted her chair to face him and deliberately drew up her legs until he could see the white strip of her undies. She spread and draped her legs over the plastic armrests to either side.
He swallowed.
She folded her legs back together and stood in a single graceful motion.
“There’s really nothing to be afraid of.”
She crossed over to where he stood mesmerised.
He felt her lips gently brush his cheek. Her scent filled his nostrils.
“Now that wasn’t so terrible, was it?”
“No.” His erection painful beneath his woven shorts.
She kissed him full on the lips. He closed his eyes and shuddered in torment. Her hands caressed the back of his neck, every light touch sending rippling cascades through his feverish body.
They kissed again. Her hands slid down his back. She hugged his buttocks tight, forcing his erection hard against the tautness of her lower belly.
They drew apart, both breathing hard. She lifted her skirt and wriggled out of her lace bikini. She pulled her top over her head and unclasped the orange bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. His eyes widened at the sight of her breasts thrusting free.
“Kiss me, Jeremy,” she commanded.
He kissed the soft flesh of her left breast, rolling his tongue around a nipple that felt tingly and alive as it hardened under his mouth.
A low moan escaped from the lips above his head.
With his mouth absorbed in its delectation, his hand reached out to cup the warm nudity of her right breast – feeling its supple weight and caressing the smooth skin until his fingers were kneading her erect nipple.
“Gently, darling.”
“Sorry.”
His mouth brushed down her belly, towards the source of her musk. She stepped back and unfastened her skirt. This last garment fell away and the enticement of her sex was naked before him. He came down to kiss the seductive curves of her groin, intoxicated by her smell. He laid his hand on the neat triangle of hair, before daring to slip his fingers down the slit between her legs, coming away damp.
Seized by violent desire he tore off his clothes. They stood gripping each other tight, her shorter feminine body mated against his hot naked flesh. He could feel the thudding of her heart, hear her short sharp pants in his ear.
She drew her fingers lingeringly down his back, into the cleft between his buttocks. Her hands went further, stroking the underside of his nude behind.
“Now,” he said urgently, feeling the final frenzy of desire coming on.
She lay on the floor and drew him towards her, opening her legs, moist and welcoming. He came on the second thrust, the storm breaking, his mind deluged with waves of ecstatic pleasure that surged back and forth.
She smiled tenderly and caressed his head.
“Come on, we’d better get up.”
She led him to the bathroom, where they sponged and dried each other. They kissed and he felt his lust stirring again.
“Not now, tiger,” she murmured. They dressed, she quick and efficient, he slow and reluctant. He was still tying his laces when his father peered in uncertainly from the entrance.
“Hello Dad, this is Gail.”
He nodded towards her, then looked at his son strangely. But he never asked and they talked of other things on the drive home.