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Hi, and thank you for choosing my story. I hope you will enjoy it.
If you do, please be kind enough to give a score at the end. This helps me to gauge the popularity of my work. – If I may – I usually like to suggest, one star each for:
Composition & Use of Vocabulary, Readability, Plot, Drama or Humour, and of course Sexual Content (because — isn’t that why we are all here?), but please feel free to use your own criteria if you prefer.
Also, if you would like to know a little about my personal background, please read my Brief History.
Tags: Lesbian Romance, Lesbian Seduction.
Please consider the preamble for Part 1 as an integral part of this episode. Also, as with most of my work, there is a lot of background and character building in the early stages. For this reason, some aspects of this part will be better understood by reading episodes in sequence.
This Part mainly covers Julie teaching Katie about tennis technique. There is a lot of coaching information, and a little more flirting and innuendo, but very little else.
Title: Game Set & Match – Part 2: The First Lesson.
I arrived at the club at about 1:45pm on Wednesday afternoon, but apart from Sarah the club secretary, there was no-one else there. Sarah was probably in her mid thirties, maybe slightly older, tall and slender with very long blonde hair, and although she always followed the club rules of predominantly white skirt (or shorts for the men), white top and white tennis shoes, she always managed to dress evocatively.
Her rich, heady perfume filled the room with a fragrance clearly designed to turn heads, and I had often wondered why an obviously attractive woman like her never seemed to have loads of men hanging around her.
She seemed to spend all of her time at the club; in fact I couldn’t remember having ever been there when she wasn’t around. “Hello,” she greeted me brightly. “We don’t usually see you midweek. Come for half a game of singles have you?” she teased, acknowledging that I was alone.
“No,” I laughed. “I’m supposed to be meeting Julie here today.”
“Julie?” she questioned, a definite element of surprise in her voice. “Julie A*****?” she affirmed.
“Is that her name? I only know her as Julie,” I told her.
“Shoulder length deep auburn hair?” she asked.
“Yes. That’s right,” I replied brightly. “She said she’d help me with a few flaws in my game,” I told her.
Sarah’s expression changed to one of curious interest. I felt sure she was about to say something, then clearly changed her mind. “Well she’s a very experienced player,” she told me. “I’m sure she’ll be able to teach you no end of… interesting moves.” She seemed to be smirking slightly.
I looked at her, slightly puzzled. “I do hope so,” I replied innocently. “I’ve never been able to beat my regular partner, and I do so want to improve my game.”
“You usually partner with Lynne Hargreaves don’t you?”
“That’s right,” I confirmed.
“Why don’t you play in the doubles at all?” she asked. I had the feeling she was fishing for something. I knew that when Sarah played she only ever played doubles, but oddly enough she never seemed to have a regular partner. She would double up with almost anyone who happened to be around.
“Lynne never seems to want to play anything but singles,” I told her, a little sadly.
“That doesn’t mean that you can’t,” she smiled. She looked me up and down for a few moments. She seemed to be studying me. “Does this mean that Lynne might be free to play doubles with me now?” she asked.
I gave her a puzzled look. ‘What an odd question’ I thought. “I doubt it,” I told her. “As I said, she doesn’t seem to like doubles… but there’s no harm in asking is there,” I added with a smile.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll pick up a lot of new… tricks from… Oh! Talk of the devil. Here’s Julie now,” she said, nodding toward the door.
“Hello Katie,” Julie greeted me as I turned to see her closing the door behind her. “Sorry I’m late,” she apologised.
I glanced up at the clock. It was only just five minutes to two. “You’re not late at all,” I told her. “It’s me… I was way too early,” I told her with a slight laugh.
“You must be keen,” she laughed as she leaned forward to greet me, kissing my cheek.
“I am,” I confided softly. She slid an arm around my back and gave me an affectionate hug, holding me there for a good two or three seconds longer than I felt necessary.
“None of that in the clubhouse,” Sarah teased, with a cautionary wink to Julie.
“Come on,” Julie said, excitedly. “Let’s get out on the court and make a start.”
I picked up my bag and made for the door to the courts, and Julie followed.
“You lucky bitch,” I just managed to hear Sarah whisper. I turned back to see Julie smiling at her, opening her eyes wide and raising her eyebrows as she bit her Büyükesat Escort lip. The smile on her face was unmistakable, but I said nothing as Julie quickly skipped up to join me.
It was less than two minutes walk past the main courts to the practice area, and there was only one couple playing a match as we passed. I couldn’t remember having seen the woman on the far side of the court before, but I recognised the woman with her back to us. She was the same woman who had been sitting with Julie on the Saturday; the one who had been touching Julie’s arm so — encouragingly.
I looked up at Julie who seemed intent on looking straight ahead and not even acknowledging her. I would later learn that this was Daphne; Julie’s previous regular doubles partner, but I had to assume that something had happened between them to cause a rift.
“So!” Julie turned and smiled. “What would you like to work on first?” she asked, interrupting my thoughts as we walked on.
“I have no idea,” I told her. “Probably best if you treat me as a blank page. We can do whatever you like,” I said. She turned to look at me and I swear there was a peculiar hint of a smile that unnerved me slightly. “At the moment, all I want is to improve enough to beat that Lynne Hargreaves,” I added. I didn’t usually use her surname, but I found myself fuming every time I thought of her now, and I couldn’t hide the venom in my voice. I’d had four days to contemplate how she had been using me to boost her own ego, and every time I thought about it, it angered me more.
“Don’t be unkind,” Julie said softly, “and please try not to get too passionate about it either.” She could see my obvious frustration. “I’m sure she’s not a bad person. She has just been taught to dominate her partner.” She stopped and smiled kindly at me. “Me…” she went on, “I prefer to coax and nurture…” she paused, “to try to bring out the best.”
She slid an arm around my shoulders and for the first time I caught a decent whiff of her perfume; that light and subtle scent I had detected last weekend. I hadn’t noticed it before as we walked, and in the clubhouse it was completely obliterated by Sarah’s heady fragrance. I felt warm and comfortable as we walked on. “Just remember… if you let your anger get the better of you, it will turn back on you,” she told me.
“What does that mean?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“If you allow your emotions to come to a head, that’s when you make mistakes in your game.” She smiled, “But if you can remain calm, and focus on the point you’re playing and nothing else, everything else will fall into place.”
It made a lot of sense.
When we arrived at the court, we dropped our bags on the bench and she reached into a small pocket, pulling out an elasticised hair tie. She faced me as she gathered her beautiful shining reddish-brown mane behind her head, and wrapped the tie around it, pulling it back into a neat pony-tail. As she did so, she exposed a small area of pale shaven flesh under her arms, exciting me more than she could have imagined.
I felt embarrassed that it thrilled me so, but I could hardly tear my attention from it. The only thing that managed to divert my gaze slightly were the firm mounds of her exquisite breasts, seemingly pointing straight at me. Such a perfect size and so shapely, almost teasing me, inviting me to reach for them.
Julie smiled. I thought she might be disconcerted or bothered that I was watching her so closely, but she seemed unconcerned; as if she hadn’t even noticed, although I feel certain that she did. “What shall we start with then?” she asked, as she finished tying her hair.
“Like I said, I’ll do whatever you want,” I told her, purposely using an open innuendo. I think I was testing the water; trying to see if she would pick up on it. I felt inexplicably attracted to her. No… that’s completely the wrong word. There was nothing inexplicable about it. She was gorgeous and I had ‘always’ been attracted to other girls. She was a few years older than me but she was still a young woman and I found her dangerously enticing.
I was hoping and praying that she would like me the way I couldn’t help liking her. But I was afraid. I had never had any relationship with another girl before, in fact I’d never had much of a relationship with anyone before, and the very idea of it scared me. I really had no clue what I was doing. Suddenly I felt I shouldn’t be there. I wanted to run away, but that would be foolish. ‘Get a grip girl’, I thought. ‘She’s come here to help me with my tennis. That’s all,’ I told myself.
“OK,” she began, after tormenting my imagination with her lithe womanly charms for what seemed like an eternity, “Let’s knock a ball around for a few minutes and I’ll watch how well you move.”
“Fine,” I agreed, somewhat relieved that we were actually going to play some tennis after all.
She served the first ball underarm, and I hit it back quite fast, passing her about two feet away. “Sorry,” she called, with a laugh. “I didn’t realise Beşevler Escort we were having a match,” she joked.
“Sorry,” I replied. “I don’t often get to hit a ball I can reach easily.”
“That will change,” she said. “Don’t you ever have a knock-about with Lynne?” she asked.
“No, I can’t remember that ever happening,” I told her.
“Not even a warm-up?” She looked shocked.
“No,” I shook my head.
She dropped her gaze, shaking her head in apparent disbelief, the dark pony-tail gently lashing her neck, so soft and alluring. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. “Even the professionals have a warm-up. How could she expect you to ever find your rhythm?” she asked. It was a rhetorical question. “OK. Let’s just try to keep this going for as long as we can,” she said. “I want to see how you move.”
“What did you think when you watched Lynne and I play on Saturday?” I asked.
“To be completely honest, most of the points were over in one or two strokes. You didn’t get into a rally once.”
“True,” I agreed.
She served again and this time we kept the ball going for about ten strokes. “That was better. Let’s just keep doing that for a few minutes.”
We played a few short rallies before she stopped and came around to my side of the court. “Is something wrong?” I asked.
She smiled kindly. “Hmmm… Where do I start?” she said softly, her smile drawing my gaze to those full, inviting lips.
I was tempted to say, ‘anywhere you like’, but I felt way too shy to make a bold move like that.
“OK. Let’s start with your stroke. Keep still,” she said as she moved around behind me. She placed her right hand over mine and guided me, resting her left hand flat on my tummy, and immediately I began to feel a tingle in my body and butterflies in my tummy. She began swinging my arm, with the racquet, in slow clockwise sweeps. “How does that feel?” she asked.
“Fine,” I said, turning my head slightly toward hers. Her face was so close she could have kissed me, but she just smiled, her sweet, minty breath playing on my cheek.
“OK. One thing I noticed straight away is… you tend to chop at the ball, slicing it, which puts a back spin on it.” She looked straight at me, just inches from my face and I began to tingle again – down there, but she was still talking tennis. “That’s fine once now and then if you want to change the pace, or maybe if you’re out of court and you want a little more time to move to a central part…” she paused, looking at me again, “but if you do that all the time your opponent will come to expect it. Slowing the pace gives her an advantage too. It gives her time to get in position and whack the ball past you.
“The last downer is that the backspin can pull the ball down and into the net. If instead, you sweep the racquet upwards as you strike the ball, it tends to lift the ball over the net, plus it gives it a bit of top-spin and it flies faster.
“See?” she smiled, demonstrating.
I nodded. Her face was so close to mine and I was almost trembling.
“Next, your feet are all wrong.”
“They’re the only ones I have,” I joked.
She gave me a wry, pathetic look. “Come on sweetie… be serious,” she said, giving me a quick squeeze around the waist and pressing her cheek against my forehead.
She stepped away slightly. “Stand as if you’re ready to receive a service.” I just stood up straight with my racquet out to the right. “OK. Three things wrong here.”
“Three?” I echoed. She ignored my apparent surprise.
“First, you’re unstable.”
“Well, I’ve been called some things…” I laughed.
“Come on Katie. Be serious,” she reasoned. “We have a lot to get through.” She was beginning to sound like my mother.
“Sorry. How do you mean then?”
“Your feet are too close together, she said.
“Why?” I could see she thought I was challenging her, so I added. “How does that help?”
“With your feet apart, you can move off quickly in either direction. Try standing to attention, then launching yourself to the left or right quickly. It takes probably half a second longer to get moving. In that time the ball will probably have passed you.”
“Next, your centre of gravity is too high. You need to crouch slightly. If you lower your centre of gravity you can push off with either leg very quickly.”
“Ohhh… Oh. I see,” I smiled.
“Want to see the difference?” she asked.
“OK,” I agreed, uncertainly.
“Right. Stand your old way, as if you’re ready to receive.” I stood straight up with my feet about six inches apart. She moved to my side and gave my shoulder a push. I toppled, staggering to keep myself from falling.
“Why did you do that?”
“You’re unstable,” she repeated. “Now stand with your feet apart as I told you.” I did as she instructed and she pushed me again with the same force. There was little or no effect. She pushed harder, and still I was able to resist falling. I turned and smiled.
“You Cebeci Escort see? Now let’s try the crouch.” She went back to her side of the net. “I’m going to serve a ball about six feet to your right. Prepare to receive it your old way.”
I stood as before and watched her toss the ball high in the air. Her head went back and I was fascinated with her beautiful slender neck, the firm, full breasts reaching up, and that lovely clean bare underarm, but I knew I should be concentrating. She took a swing at the ball, which shot past me before I could move.
“Weren’t you ready?” she called. I could have sworn she was smirking.
“Sorry,” I called back. “I think I was distracted,” I added with a little bashful smile.” Can we do it again?”
“As many times as it takes,” she smiled, tossing another ball up. This time I was paying attention. It followed almost exactly the same flight path, but this time I was there. I got my racquet close but it was just out of reach.
“OK. That was good. Now try the way I showed you. Feet apart and crouch.” She served again, and for the third time an almost identical service. This time I was off like a shot. I returned it but it went out.
“Oh…” I sighed.
“What’s wrong? That was good wasn’t it?”
“I put it out,” I whined.
“But you got it back. We can work on the accuracy later. That’s good Katie. That’s really good. Can you see the difference?”
I had to admit that I found it much easier to reach, and it was easily as fast as one of Lynne’s serves.
“How did you manage to hit it in the same place every time?” I asked.
“Don’t worry about that for now. We’ll work on your service another week,” she smiled. “How long have we been out here?” she asked.
I thought it a bit of a random question but I replied, “Oh. Probably fifteen minutes I guess?”
“And already you’re seeing an improvement,” she said, a certain satisfaction in her manner.
“Yes. You’re right,” I agreed.
“OK, look. We’ll give it an hour and then take a rest. Are you OK for an hour today. There’s a lot we need to work on.”
I nodded. “A bit longer if we need it,” I offered.
“Good. The next thing is… you’re holding the racquet ready to return with a forehand.”
“That’s my best shot?” I reasoned.
“Probably so,” she replied, “but after a few points your opponent will know that too, and very likely serve to your backhand. It may take you another half second to get your racquet into position, by which time the ball is long gone.”
“Ohhh…” I groaned.
“Don’t be downhearted Katie. These are all things we can fix with a little work,” she smiled.
“OK. What’s the third thing?” I asked.
“It’s your grip sweetie, but we’ll skip that for now. I’m going to make you work up a sweat today my love.” She called me ‘My love.’ I was thrilled. “Let’s have a run around now. Keep the ball moving. Don’t worry if it goes out. Just keep returning it.”
She served underarm and we hit the ball back and forth for what seemed like an eternity, but in truth it was only about five minutes. Each time I dropped a ball (she rarely missed it), she would call out things like, ‘Keep it going – Try not to stop – I don’t want you to rest yet.’
Finally she caught the ball and we stopped. “OK… she said, Take a rest now.” I dropped my racquet to the ground and leaned over, resting my hands on my knees, gasping for air.
She strolled over to me and put a comforting hand on my back, just below my neck. “Are you OK sweetie?” she asked, smiling kindly.
I just looked up, panting, and I nodded, unable to speak for a moment. She hardly looked out of breath. “How come… you’re… not tired?” I managed to gasp as she rubbed my back gently. It felt good.
She laughed softly. “It was a lesson in kind sweetie. You were doing all the running,” she told me. “You were concentrating so hard on returning the ball, you weren’t aiming it. It came straight back to me each time so that made it easy for me. I didn’t have to run, so I’m not out of breath.”
I had recovered enough to raise myself, and I stared at her in amazement. I was about to speak when she said, “Don’t be upset. It was just a necessary practical example. You’ll build your stamina as we go on, but you need to see for yourself how easily a skilled opponent can quickly wear you down.”
I looked at her sideways, but I had to accept that what she said was true. We walked over to the bench as she went on. “One game like that, even just a couple of points, could tire you so much, it could lose you an entire set, possibly even the match.”
“I hadn’t realised that learning could be so exhausting,” I said as we sat down together and she put an encouraging arm around my shoulders to comfort me. She seemed to be holding me for rather longer than necessary, and while I didn’t mind, I felt it a little uncomfortable in case anyone should see us. It was then that I really noticed her perfume, such a faint, subtle scent in the outside air, yet so alluring.
“Oh…” she said mysteriously, “I have lots more things in store to tire ‘you’ sweetie,” she said, turning to face me and giving my shoulders an affectionate hug. Her thumb idly caressed the top of my shoulder close to my neck and I closed my eyes. I felt whacked but I was in heaven.
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