Anyone for tennis?

After breakfast, they made their way to the pool area, wheee he reclined and watched as Sophie did her morning laps. She still felt a little ‘odd’ and was somewhat slower than usual but still had an energetic workout that went some way to improving her mood.

When she exited the pool she noticed he had been joined by the American couple. They both smiled as they greeted her, the husband’s eyes roving all over her wet clingy costume as she sat, chest heaving, towelling her hair dry. In her absence they had decided to play tennis that morning, which they all thought was a ‘great idea’. Sophie tried not to show it but she was not best pleased. Although she was a pretty capable all round sports person, tennis was one of her least favourite because of her small stature. She was fiercely competitive and deceptively strong, fast enough to chase most things down but, whereas some people might be caught out, the more adept players soon realised and played to their strengths, using their height against her, or tiring her out by keeping the ball moving until the point was lost. She hated losing, at anything, and tennis was one of those sports that brought the worst out in her. A lengthy sulk or a broken racket, or both, was not uncommon.

So she protested, in the nicest way possible, hoping they would abort their plans, but they were resolute, insisting ‘it was just a bit of fun’. Little knowing that, with Sophie and sports, that was rarely the case. Her trump card was to point out that she hadn’t packed anything for tennis in her luggage. Rather annoyingly, he pointed out that all equipment was provided by the resort and this was compounded by the American woman offering to go with her to the resort shop where ‘they sold everything you could possibly imagine’.

“Even a strap-on, to shove up you ass?”, Sophie seethed inwardly, but nevertheless, smiled sweetly and accepted, gracefully, having been backed into a corner.

At the American’s urging, she gathered up her things and they went off to shop, while the men sorted out the rackets and balls.

She made hard work of it in the store, determined to prove the American wrong, but failing dismally when she saw the wide array of clothing available. She resigned herself to it and tried on a few skirts and tops. She shared a changing room with the American, and her mood improved not only because this was a welcome distraction but also because this gave her an opportunity to get more familiar with her new friend.

Thankfully, she was not at all shy and this gave Sophie ample opportunity to see her in all her glory. Much more womanly than she, as she suspected, and thanks to her penchant for trying on the tennis knickers, a true red head. A sneaky look confirmed a neatly trimmed flaming bush that was glorious to behold. Her tits were freckled too, larger than Sophie’s but not huge, ‘definitely a boob job though’, she smiled. A fine ass too, especially when in those frilly tennis knickers that made her giggle when she tried them on. Sophie found herself absent mindedly biting her lip as she looked, wondering if this gorgeous woman could be tempted to ‘top’ her, in the right situation? Imagined gripping onto those wide, bony hips, as she moved above her.

For her part, Sophie gave the American lots of opportunity. Firstly, to gauge her reaction but also because Sophie liked being looked at by other women. Even if there were no romantic entanglement, she liked the feeling it gave her. She could see her peeping, so she played up to it, unnecessarily staying naked, without being blatant, just disorganised. Yes, she looked, Sophie confirmed, and she made a mental note of the possibilities this might hold.

Finally, Sophie made her mind up. Much more cheerful now since she had chosen, to her new friend’s obvious discomfort, although she said nothing, a teenage girls’ all in one tennis dress. Due to her small size, Sophie was used to being able to wear girls’ clothes (and loved the money she saved in doing so!) but it was an obvious and unpleasant surprise for her new friend, who thought it ‘rather short’, since it rose up her bum a little too easily, and ‘it might attract the wrong attention!”’, given the unicorn images in the shoulder and the hem. Sophie just smiled sweetly and bought it anyway. She loved unicorns.

The shopping experience had brought a gay spring to her step but once the match started, it panned out pretty much as she expected, and she was soon stomping around, frustrated. They had held their own for a while in a match that had started off light hearted but soon had an edge. They had underestimated Sophie at first, and were surprised at the speed at which she covered the court and patrolled the net but the Americans were smart tennis players and adapted quickly. They played as a team and started to wear Sophie out and take use her lack of height to their advantage. The first set was tight, the second lost too easily and Sophie was red-faced, pouting, angry and sweaty when her partner suggested they mix things up. He could see she was a bad loser.

Playing with the American man, things were much more even, and Sophie’s mood improved. The game was fun again and she started to enjoy herself, slapping a ‘high five’ when they won points and starting to flirt, letting him see high up her thigh as the tiny skirt rose higher when they slapped. Noticing that he always looked. It was a tennis cliche, but she also wiggled her bum at him when his wife wasn’t looking, bending low as she waited for him to serve, knowing her teenage dress, that was too short as it was, would rise up even higher but for his eyes only. She had worn a thong for the occasion, even though she disliked them, and knew he would get a great view. It was so tiny as it bisected her bottom he probably couldn’t tell if she was naked or not under the tennis dress!

Three sets later and they had secured a narrow win. Sophie, the bad loser, was beamingly triumphant in victory as they made a show of shaking hands with their opponents at the net, aping the ‘professional circuit’. He stood close as they did so, their hips touched. She moved in closer, encouraging the contact and, as his wife moved away to gather the balls, she tilted her head back as she leaned in and looked up at him. She purposefully struck a cute little girl pose as his hand rested on her waist, then her bum while he talked with her partner. She smiled coquettishly and his hand cupped her before slipping under her skirt. Her little round bum, sweaty in the heat, moved against his hand as he let his middle finger slip into her moist crack even as he spoke to the man she was supposedly with.

“You’re cheeky”, she whispered, as his finger lingered while they watched their opponents walk away from them.

“You know you want it”, he replied, giving her bare arse a little slap as she skipped alongside him, giggling like the schoolgirl she looked.