The Tennis Court

From the cafe, I could see the tennis courts. There was a pretty blonde sitting courtside. She was texting on her phone. I walked down to her.

"Hello, I'm Trevor, your new coach. I'm the one you insisted on."

"Oh, hi," she said. "I'm Beth." She put her phone down and stood up.

"Why are you dressed like that?" she asked.

"Look, you hired me because you know everything I say is true, and whatever I do is perfectly acceptable to you. You must obey me or no one will ever coach you again, and you can be kicked out of this country club."

"Oh my god, I'm like so sorry!" said Beth.

"OK, first, your outfit is all wrong."

"How so?"

"The skirt is far too long. It'll interfere with your game. Your skirt should be at least half that length at most. The shorter the better. You have great legs, show them off; it'll put your opponent off her game."

"Um, OK."

"Do you have a shorter skirt on you?"

"No, sir, I don't."

"OK, take that one off then."

Beth just looked at me. She looked worried.

"Do it!"

"OK!" Beth took off her skirt. She had on a pair of tight white spandex shorts.

"Seriously?" I asked. "From now on only wear white thongs. You don't want your butt and crotch getting overheated. Take off those ridiculous shorts, now!"

Beth obeyed. She stood embarrassed, holding her racket over her crotch.

"You have nice little titties," I said. "Small enough not to flop around, so never wear a bra when playing, but your top is entirely too loose. Lose it!"

Beth took her top off leaving her in nothing but a white sports bra, white socks, and tennis shoes.