Fantasies Incorporated – Tennis Match

By: Bridy McAvoy

All rights reserved

Copyright © Jan 2010, Bridy McAvoy

Cover Art Copyright © Jan 2010, Brightling Spur

Bluewood Publishing Ltd

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Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

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Dedication

To everyone who helped me write this. Especially my husband who encouraged me to explore my fantasies in print.

Fantasies Incorporated – Tennis Match

“Karen, please . . .”

“You have got to be joking, Chris. You and Ben make a great doubles team. I can’t step in and partner him against Steve and Dave like that. I’m not up to the same standard.”

“Karen, I can’t help it. You know work have paged me and I’ve got to go back. The bloody computer system’s playing up and they need me. If I just withdraw then the forfeit means we have no chance of reaching the semis. If you step in, and even if you lose, we still have a chance of winning well enough in the final match to get through. You know how much the club championship means to Ben. Please . . .”

Karen bit her lip and looked at her fiancé. She hated to refuse him anything and he was right; the archaic scoring system would dump him and Ben out of the doubles championship if they didn’t play. The fact they allowed a substitute had been a surprise to her.

“But I only played an hour ago.”

“Come on, honey, you and Susie won six-love, six-love, conceding – what – three points on your own serves over the two sets. It was the most one-sided match in the women’s challenge for ten years. You weren’t even out of breath. Didn’t work up a sweat. You know you could play this, and play well. That was just a warm-up for you, nothing more.”

“Hmmm . . .”

“Please, hon.”

She shook her head in defeat. As always Chris had managed to talk her round to his way of thinking.

“Thanks, hon, I knew I could count on you. I’ll just go and tell the lads, and give Ben the keys to lock up when you’ve all finished. He’ll give you a lift home after as well. See ya later.”

Without even a quick peck on the cheek, he disappeared into the men’s locker room to tell the others they had a game after all. Shaking her head, she opened the door to the ladies locker room to change back into her two piece white tennis outfit, glad it wasn’t sweaty after her own match.

* * * *

“Thanks for stepping in, Karen, we all appreciate it.”

“Yeah right, Ben. You mean you appreciate being able to look up the back of my skirt when you’re serving.”

Ben had the grace to look embarrassed, so Karen gave him a grin that was designed to tell him she didn’t mind. Her toned athletic legs were shown off by the short tennis skirt whenever she played and always enjoyed many of the overheard appreciative comments from the sidelines.

“We don’t have an umpire so we’ll have to rely on honest accurate calls, okay?”

“Sure.”

Ben was going to be the best man when she married Chris in a couple of month’s time. She wasn’t too familiar with the other two players, on the other side of the net, but she did know they were superb tennis players, almost on a par with her own fiancé and his regular partner, Ben.

As they knocked up and stretched, she caught the two men watching her intently. She wasn’t sure if they were sizing her up as opposition or undressing her with their eyes. Karen shivered, not particular fazed by their attention, for whatever reason, but not entirely comfortable either.

Her partner’s first service game was good enough to ensure Karen had nothing to do as they won the game to love with two aces and two netted returns. Now she had to face Steve’s serve for the first time. When she played against Ben or Chris, she knew they held back a little bit on their serves for her sake, but this was real match conditions and the two guys the other side of the net weren’t going to hold anything back. The ball whistled over the net at least fifteen miles an hour faster than anything she was used to. A split second later it whistled past her outstretched forehand, an un-returnable ace.

The next serve was to Ben, who managed a credible return to the base line which was scooped straight back at Karen. She got her racquet in front of her for the volley and yelled in amazed excitement as the ball pinged between their two opponents to make it fifteen all. Now it was her turn to face the serve and it boomed past her again, thankfully from a point a few inches beyond the service line. The second serve looped up and in at a comfortable pace for her and she returned it straight at her opposite number the other side of the net. His block volley caught the net cord and dropped nicely for Ben to put away past their opponents. Two aces followed, one past each of them, and then Ben netted his return to give Steve and Dave the game.

In the next game Karen found her serve completely monstered by the two men on the other side of the net and lost the game to love. The next three games all went with service, leaving them trailing four-two and it was time for Karen to serve again. With six games played and no one officiating, they called a time out and all four players lunged for their water bottles. The game had been much harder for Karen than her own ladies doubles had been and she realised she’d worked up a sweat this time.

“You’re going to have to hold your serve, sweetie, or they’ll be serving for the set.”

“I know, Ben, but you guys are used to much harder serves than I can deliver.”

“Just do your best, Karen, that’s all I ask.”

Two games later they were a set down and it was Karen’s turn to serve, starting the second set.

“I’ll give you an incentive, Karen.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, if you don’t serve an ace this game, you’ll have to let your hair down. I’m going to confiscate your scrunchie.”

Karen shook her blonde ponytail from side to side and looked at him in shock.

He leaned in close.

“If that doesn’t motivate you then the forfeit after that one will.”

“What will that be?”

“I’ll have your knickers!”

“You won’t!”

“We’ll take a vote on it and you’ll lose, three to one.”

“Go to hell!”

Ben’s applied psychology worked a treat. Although Karen failed to serve an ace, she held her serve and afterwards sarcastically held out her scrunchie to him, shaking her long blonde hair out. The next three games again went with serve and when they called another time out she glared at her partner, having refused to talk to him throughout the last four games.

“It worked, Karen. I got you mad and you played like a lioness.”

Ben grinned at her and Karen found it, as usual, impossible to stay mad with him and smiled back.

“You’re incorrigible!”

“Perhaps, but I’m still having your knickers if you don’t hold your serve this time.”

“No!”

“I told you I’d put it to the vote and you’d lose.”

“There is no way that’s going to happen and you know it.”

Again Karen was fired up when play resumed and each time her first serve whistled into the corners with near perfect accuracy, the result being she held her serve once more. As the next three games played out, still going with serve, the thought of her fiancé’s friend removing her knickers on court played on her mind. She realised the humiliation of such an event, as well as the obvious exhibitionism of being naked under her short tennis skirt, was having an effect on her body, if not her tennis. The old Athena poster flashed through her mind several times, and inside her sports bra she could feel her nipples hardening.

“Your serve, Karen.”

“What?”

She’d almost lost track of what was happening as her mind roiled with images. Taking the proffered balls, she retreated to the baseline and began her preparation routine for tossing the ball in the air and serving. Looking up, she saw the other three watching her and chuckling.

“What?”

“Change ends, sweetie. Forgotten?”