Rhapsody Suite
Five
SCHOOL WAS SCHOOL. I was finding it more tolerable now, partly because I was playing racquetball almost every day, and partly because Melody had moved into my dorm room. Twice, we’d managed to get Lissa to come and stay with us, and we were at her house all weekend.
We were seeing more of Kate now, too. She was joining our little group for lunch most days and was proving to be more sociable than I ever imagined. She was still pretty shy, but every once in a while, she’d catch one of us off guard with a zinger that showed she had a great sense of humor.
I stretched canvases, helped unload a huge block of marble for the sculpture studio, dabbled in different media, painted the new picture of Lissa at the bath, and went to class. On Monday, when I handed in my Art History paper two days early, Brian actually looked at me as if I had grown an extra head. I explained that I’d be missing class Wednesday to go to the tournament and he wished me luck.
Dr. Henredon had already given me a release from class for the week and Prof. McIntyre told me my final project was complete and graded as far as she was concerned and that attendance at the remaining classes for the year was optional. Not that I was going to take full advantage of that. Figure painting was my favorite class. I stopped to see Ms. Brock before class that afternoon and she said she had received word that I would be unavailable for the week and as far as she was concerned, I didn’t need to be there this afternoon. Suddenly, I had nothing to think about but the tournament, so I headed for the gym.
I was surprised to find Lissa already on the court when I got there. She was returning serves from John and battering each of them past him no matter where he served. He has a strong forehand, but he’s nowhere near her level and she had no difficulty returning everything he served. Still, something looked odd. I stood there and studied the action through the glass wall. It finally hit me and as soon as John missed the next return I pounded on the glass. They turned to look and Lissa motioned me in. I slipped my shoes off and opened the door.
“Hey, guys,” I said.
“You’re here early,” Lissa answered.
“Yeah. I was just watching. Do you mind if I make a suggestion?”
“Shoot,” Lissa said.
“Lissa, you can return anything John serves. No offense, John; it’s the way she is. But you’ve got a gap in your stance, Lissa. We’ve talked about this before. You can’t let yourself get sloppy just because John isn’t as good as you. You’re supposed to be preparing for Opens. You’re leaning into your backhand to your left before he ever serves. You know you can switch back to the right to catch anything he serves. But a power-serve low at the stretch of your forehand would leave you watching the ball go by. You’ve got to square yourself up while you’re waiting for the serve. We talked about that once before.”
“Wow,” John said.
“No kidding, wow,” Lissa responded. “It was a strange day when we had that practice, but I see what you’re saying. Let’s run a few more serves. Tony, make sure I’m on target. If I’m developing a bad habit, I need to correct it now. And thanks.”
She smiled at me and gave me a little kissy face as I backed out of the court. I watched a few more rallies and then Lissa turned to look at me and raised an eyebrow. I went back in.
“Better?” she asked.
“Definitely better, but you’ve got to get up on your toes more when he brings his racquet back to serve,” I explained. “You’re delaying because you know he doesn’t have the power. Stop thinking of him as John your trainer and start thinking of him as Yuri Gedov. You can’t let him slip one by on you.”
She absolutely beamed at me and turned back to the game as I went back outside to watch. About every five to ten rallies, I’d pop back in and tell them what I saw. I gave a couple pointers to John on how he was serving, too. By the end of an hour, they’d both broken a sweat and were working hard. They came off the court talking about how it had gone.
“That was so helpful, Tony!” Lissa said. “There’s no way I could see that on the court.”
“Thanks for the pointers on my serve, too,” John said.
“Is there anything else, coach?” Lissa asked. I looked at her blankly.
“Umm… You’re my coach,” I stated the obvious.
“It’s a fair trade,” she said. “Go get ready and I’ll get you a partner to warm up with.”
John raised his hands in surrender and shook his head. They were discussing who they could get to warm me up as I entered the locker room to change.
For me, practice was light. Tomorrow, Lissa and I would fly down to Tempe and sign in. Competition started Wednesday at 9:00 a.m. I knew some of the competitors would be coming from farther away than me, so I hoped everyone was planning to get there on Tuesday. There was a welcome banquet that night and I wanted to get a first look at the competition. I worked on form and Lissa kept pacing back and forth on the court behind me as I returned serves from Rod and tried to get my serves past the big guy. It was a good practice.
A small crowd was outside the court when we quit. I knew Melody and the girls would be there—they’d said they wanted to cheer me on to Tempe—but Sam Jacobson and Dean Peterson were there, too. So were a bunch of other kids from school and a few that I didn’t recognize. They called Lissa and me over to face the gathering.
“We’re happy to have Tony Ames representing the combined student bodies of Pacific College of the Arts and Design and Seattle Cascades University at the USAR National Intercollegiate Championships in Tempe this week,” Dean Peterson addressed the crowd. “We want to make some introductions so you’ll all know who you’re cheering for. I’m Nathan Peterson, Dean of Students at PCAD. On my right is Sam Jacobson, Athletic Director at SCU. On my left is Coach Lissa Grant, the reigning Women’s US Open Racquetball Champion. And finally, this is Tony Ames, representing our schools on the court.” There was a quick shuffle and Melody led Amy, Sandra, and Kate out in front of us. They were dressed in black leggings and sweaters and did a little jump then yelled.
“T-O-N-Y. Goooooo Tony!” They were waving black pompoms. I cracked up.
“And that is the self-appointed PCAD cheerleading squad,” Dean laughed. “Is there anyone at SCU who can give them some pointers?”
Everyone was laughing and applauded the effort.
“Tony, we want you to know that we’re behind you on this and wish you well in the tournament. But win or lose, we know you will represent our schools with good sportsmanship and your best efforts. Now I think Coach Jacobson has something for you.”
Sam Jacobson motioned me over to stand beside him.
“We’ve never had a racquetball club at SCU. I have a feeling, though, that you may have some others on the court with you next fall. This is an unusual way to launch a new sport at the university, but we want you to know that SCU is also behind you. I’d like to introduce Tim Kost, a senior, captain of SCU’s basketball team, and president of the student athletic association. Tim.”
I had to crane my head up to look at the guy. He’s easily a foot taller than me.
“The teams at SCU want to welcome you, Tony. We rummaged around in the locker room and finally found a warmup for you that we thought was small enough to fit.”
Everyone laughed at that. We must have made quite a picture standing there together. He handed me an obviously brand new warmup jacket and pants in SCU’s Maroon and Gold colors with the school’s lion mascot embroidered on the back. I slipped on the jacket and modeled it for the group, which had grown since the little impromptu ceremony started.
“Welcome to SCU Athletics,” Tim said, shaking my hand.
Everyone applauded and there was another disturbance as two really cute girls from SCU ran forward in maroon and gold cheerleader outfits, did a flip and landed in the splits in front of me with their hands raised. Everyone cheered. Then the girls sprang to their feet and each took one of my arms.
“Tony, I’m Sonia,” the blonde on my right said.
“And I’m Bree,” the redhead on my left chimed in. “We really aren’t here to upstage the new PCAD cheer squad, but they said we could welcome you to the team, too.”
“The girls from PCAD have a gift for you, Tony,” Sonia continued. “I guess you get to wear the PCAD school colors, too.”
I bit on the lead-in. Melody, Amy, Sandra, and Kate were approaching.
“What are the PCAD school colors,” I asked.
“Black and black, of course. We’re artists,” Melody answered as she presented a package to me. “Tony, we’ll all be thinking of you on the court this weekend. And we’ll all be waiting for you when you get back. You’re the only athlete any of us know who could invite a girl up to see his sketches and be serious about it.”
That got everyone laughing. I ripped open the package and found a complete set of black Ektelon shorts, t-shirt, and socks. At the bottom of the package there was even a black jockstrap.
“I suppose this is for next time I model for you?” I asked, lifting the jock for everyone to see.
All four of them opened their mouths in surprise. It was the most synchronized movement of their improvised cheers so far. The girls all arranged themselves around me. I was going to reach for Melody, but Sonia and Bree weren’t relinquishing their hold on my arms. Sam and the dean were looking expectantly at me. I guessed I was supposed to say something.
“Gosh. I’m kinda overwhelmed. I know some of you here from the club, and some from PCAD. I’m guessing that some of you are from SCU, too. It’s good to meet all of you and I’m looking forward to getting to know you all over the next year.”
There was a cheer that told me there were probably a couple dozen SCU people here. There was a little squeeze on my left arm and the redhead’s tits pushed firmly into my side. For a moment I lost my train of thought.
“Anyway. Uh…I’ll do my best to represent both schools at the championships this week. I’ve never competed at this level before, but my coach has and with her beside me, I’ll try not to be too nervous. I just…” I stammered, getting choked up.
Damn! All these people—some that I didn’t even know—came out to wish me well. And I really hadn’t even done anything yet. Somebody flashed a picture of me surrounded by the ‘cheerleaders.’ I could feel tears of embarrassment forming behind my eyelids. I cut it short. “Thank you. Thanks to all of you,” I said quickly.
I shut up. This time all six girls jumped up in the air. And everyone joined in the cheer.
“T-O-N-Y. Tony!” cheered the whole crowd.
Lissa and Melody were both in my bed in the dorm that night. We’d made love together. We all thought it would feel more like college to sneak into the dorm together than to just go off to Lissa’s house. Lissa’s packed bag was in her car and mine was sitting by the door, ready to go in the morning.
I was still feeling overwhelmed. I’d talked about the trip, the impromptu pep rally, the game, Lissa’s workout, the new uniforms—I was a regular motor mouth until Lissa and Melody both shut me up by covering my mouth with various body parts. Then we just lay there cuddling with each other, enjoying the afterglow.
“Looks like Tony’s got a couple more modeling candidates, if you ask me,” Melody said.
“Oh, go on,” I said. “They were just there to promote school spirit.”
“What promotes school spirit better than a cheerleader having sex with a star athlete?” she persisted.
“Well, if I come back in the bottom tier, nobody’s going to think I’m a star athlete. Those girls won’t even know who I am once football season starts.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Lissa said. “If the coaches and Dean Peterson hadn’t been standing right behind you, they’d have had their hands on your ass instead of your arms.”
“They sure didn’t want to let go of you when we showed up,” Melody added. “We’re going to have to figure out a schedule for all the girls who want to get naked for you. With the two of us, I think that makes seven who are standing in line.”
“What? Who?”
“Tony, don’t be dense,” Melody said. “There’s me. And you know Lissa, right? Do you need me to introduce you? Then there’s Amy, Sandra, Kate, Sonia, and Bree. And yes, I’m sure.”
“I don’t know how I feel about that,” I said slowly. “I’d rather just be with you two and not deal with any complications.”
“Sweetheart, complications are going to arise,” Lissa said. “I love you and I need you. But I don’t feel jealous of Melody.”
“But you love Melody, too.”
“Yes. But it’s more than that,” Lissa continued. “We’re not going to be jealous of you.”
Melody nodded against my chest. Her hand was playing with my balls and I’d never really softened completely after I came in Lissa a few minutes ago.
“Speaking of things arising,” Melody said. “I feel a situation coming up.”
“We should take it in hand right away,” Lissa said. I felt her hand join Melody’s and groaned. “Oh. He’s in pain. I think suction therapy is in order.” Both girls disappeared beneath the sheets and I felt the most exquisite sensation I’d ever known. They were kissing each other. Kissing with a lot of tongue. And my cockhead was right in the middle of their tongue fight.
“Okay,” Lissa said, raising her head. “Last one until the end of competition.”
“What?” I managed, still dazed.
“No wasting strength and no late nights when we’re in Tempe,” she explained. “We have to maintain a strict athlete/coach relationship while we’re on the road.”
“Suddenly I’m not looking forward to this trip anywhere near as much,” I complained.
Then I gasped. The dueling tongues slid down my shaft to lick my balls and then slid back up to the top.
If this was the last one till after competition, at least it was going to be memorable.
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