Diva
Six
AS SOON AS I GOT OUT of the arena and we headed back to our room, I started texting Lissa and Melody to tell them what had happened during the morning. It was so cool. I knew Melody was still in class, but I expected a response from Lissa. It didn’t come for quite a while. Then…
“I’m so sick. Boys are running around like crazy. Jack and I are taking turns puking in the bathroom. Wish I was there. Congrats.”
I was going crazy. It was just coming up noon on the coast and I waited till it struck before I dialed Melody.
I told her I was worried about Lissa and the boys and what she had texted me. Melody said not to worry and to focus on my tournament. She’d take care of everything.
“Melody, I love you both like crazy, you know that don’t you?”
“I know it, darling. But remember, this is your big week. Don’t let anything here spoil it. We’ll manage; I’ll make sure of it. Don’t bother Lissa until you hear from me. She doesn’t need to be running to the phone if she’s heaving in the john.”
“I know, Meddy. I miss you.”
“Miss you, too, lover. Have fun in the windy city. Hey! Open a window; maybe you’ll get a blow job!” I groaned and we finally let each other get off the phone.
When I finally got off the phone, Allison was standing next to the door tapping her foot. We’d changed into street clothes for the dinner tonight and I was expecting to just veg until then. She told me to grab my sports coat and get going.
“Where?” I asked.
“Claude Cahun,” she answered.
“Another competitor?”
“In a manner of speaking. Been dead a few years, though. Let’s go.”
I’m not all that into photography, but when Allison told the cab driver to take us to the Art Institute of Chicago, I knew I was in heaven. I got so lost in the exhibits—hauling Allison around by the hand and explaining the different styles and techniques—that it was six and we had to rush to the convention center hotel for dinner. What a great way to pull the pegs out from under my nervousness over the match tomorrow.
I met so many people! A lot more of them knew me, simply because they watched Karl’s and my challenge match this morning. It seemed that even more had watched the YouTube video that was posted. Guys were coming up to meet me and I’d swear they were sizing me up. There were over 350 competitors, their coaches, the referees, and the staff at the banquet. Yuri Gedov was the speaker. He dominated the international scene three years ago and was one of the movers and shakers trying to get racquetball recognized as an Olympic sport. A little hard to understand, but no worse than Bychkova’s Art History class.
A number of people left early and I assumed they were the ones with nine o’clock matches in the morning. Mine wasn’t until eleven, so I could sleep in, get a leisurely breakfast, and probably be bouncing on my toes by seven. By the time Gedov’s presentation was over, I was bouncing in my seat and Allison grabbed my hand and dragged me out of there.
I called Melody before bed and she filled me in on the condition of each of our sick loved ones. The boys had been deemed too healthy to stay in the same house as Jack and Lissa. Melody and Kate picked them up after their last class and took them back to Lissa’s house.
“Kate’s been a life saver,” Melody gushed. “I don’t think I could have done it alone. The boys are in bed asleep now and Molly will be here before we have to go to class tomorrow morning.”
“That’s great. But Lissa’s still at Jack’s?”
“She was in as bad shape this morning as the boys were Saturday night. Don’t worry, love. They are both too sick to cheat on us.”
“Melody, I wasn’t thinking…”
“Of course you were, silly. So was I. I just want her here with me. Instead, she’s protecting all of us by staying in quarantine until she’s passed the contagious stage,” Melody sighed.
“I do wish you were both here with me,” I said.
“Instead of Allison?” Melody teased.
“Melody. I’m in competition, remember?”
“Yeah. I just hope I get there while you are still playing. I can’t wait.”
“Me either.”
“Speaking of which…” Melody said. “It’s a big lonely house and both Kate and I are used to sleeping with a roommate, so I thought, if it was okay, that we might…”
“You want to sleep with Kate?” I asked. Shit! So do I.
“Not actually with her. Just in the same bed. Do you mind?”
“Honey, you know how I feel about Kate. You are free to bring her on board.”
“Oh, it won’t be that.” Melody lowered her voice, perhaps afraid that Kate would hear her. “I don’t think Kate would sleep with any of us without the others.”
“I think I know what you mean, Melody. Treat her well. We’ll all be together again soon.”
The national singles competition is a seeded tournament. The first match in each division is between the top player in the country and the last player who made it into the playoffs. When, as in this case, there were seventeen players out of sixty-four who had fewer than thirty points and were there by virtue of having played in a qualifying tournament—like me—there is a drawing to determine the order of the last seventeen places. I was fourteenth. At least I didn’t have to face Karl Higgendorfer in his ‘warmup’ match. Been there. Done that.
I was in the second flight of competitors. Eight courts were used for men’s singles, Division A. Four courts had Division B in them. Periodically, women’s matches would also be played. Then there was Open Division and Pro Division. It would be five tonight before the second round began.
I got a call from Mom and Dad just as we were entering the arena. They wanted to know what court I was on and let me know they were there and had seats, but didn’t know if they were where they should be. I checked the schedule and confirmed that they were in front of the court I was to play on in a couple hours.
When I came out of the locker room, Allison was waiting for me. She took my music player and changed the playlist.
“Lissa says she loaded this playlist for your first match. She wants you to listen to the first song and then you can put it on random or go straight through it or skip things as you wish.” I nodded and started listening to the music while I stretched and warmed up.
I wasn’t familiar with the piece, but it had a nice Latin rhythm. Just listening to it made me want to sway my hips. I looked at the title but it was in Spanish. I signaled to Allison.
“Do you speak Spanish,” I asked, pulling the headset away from my ears.
“Two years in high school. Why?”
“What’s this mean?” I pointed to the title of the song: “Besame mucho.”
Allison leaned in and listened from one side of my headset and grinned.
“Cesaria Evora. I prefer Andre Bocelli, but I can see why Lissa chose this one. It’s much more primal.”
“Yeah, but what’s it mean?”
“It’s a message from your coach,” she said. She picked up the melody in a nice voice and sang “Besame. Besame mucho.” She looked into my eyes and said, “It means ‘Kiss me. Kiss me a lot.’” I grinned. Lissa was here with me. I was going to play some serious racquetball.
The rest of the playlist was all salsa music and I was moving as if I was in a Samba by the time I entered the court. I actually won the toss. That was a first. I started my serve. The walls of my court disappeared around me. All I could see was where the ball was going to be. My opponent never had a chance.
Sam and Bree had arrived just after my match started and they met up with Allison, my parents, and me after it was over.
“Impressive,” Sam said, shaking my hand. “You should thank Karl Higgendorfer for that.”
“Why?” I asked.
“The challenge match against him that you won yesterday,” Sam replied. “Your opponent went into that match assuming he’d lost already.”
“And after this match, you just cemented the opinion,” Allison agreed.
“You’re kidding!” It never occurred to me that by playing well against Karl in the warmup yesterday would have a psychological effect on my opponents. Well, on me, too.
“When’s your next match?” Dad asked.
“Not until nine tomorrow morning,” I answered. “If I’d lost, I’d be playing this evening. I can’t believe I’m still in.” I introduced Mom to everyone. Dad had met them in Tempe, but he didn’t realize Allison was filling in for Lissa. He cocked an eyebrow at me and Mom expressed her disappointment that she didn’t get to meet my girlfriend.
“Don’t worry, Mom,” I said. “Melody will be out Thursday night and we’ll all have dinner after I finish whatever round I’m playing.”
“Well, get dressed, son. Let’s all go out to a nice lunch,” Dad said. I agreed.
When i came out of the locker room, Bree separated herself from the rest of my entourage and met me at the door. She held out a cloth bag.
“Please deposit your dirty laundry here,” she said in a nasal long-distance-operator tone that made me laugh.
“You don’t have to do my laundry, Bree. I think I can handle it.”
“No way. That’s the team manager’s job.”
“What team and what manager?” I asked.
“The joint college racquetball club that is still looking for a name,” Bree said. “And I’m the team manager.”
“You can’t have a club or a team when there is only one player,” I answered.
“Right. That’s why I’ve been recruiting. In addition to you, we now have two men and one woman signed up to start practice in the fall.”
“No kidding? Nice job. Anybody I know?”
“Oh, yeah. Remember Tonya?”
“Six-foot-tall women’s basketball player?” I asked. “Wicked! But you still don’t have to do my laundry, Bree.”
“Tony. I owe you and Melody and Lissa a big apology. I was way out of line Friday night. I did some stuff before the party and it turned me into a… it wasn’t me,” Bree said. So she had been drinking… or something. “The Athletic Director has encouraged me to re-evaluate my life goals and has ordered me to lay off the Welcome Wagon routine. I’m going to do better, Tony. I promise.”
“So you really want to wash my uniform?”
“After every match you play this week. I’m really sorry, Tony.”
I reached in my duffle and pulled out a soggy shirt, shorts, socks, sweatband, and jock and stuffed them into her cloth laundry bag.
“Okay, manager. We’d better join my trainer, coach, and parents before they leave for lunch without us.” Bree linked her arm in mine and we went to join the crew.
I had not just one, but two great meals, about a hundred text messages from Lissa and Melody, a million laughs with Mom and Dad, and still ended up in my room and ready for bed before ten. I was talking to Melody and Lissa when Allison came out of the bathroom with just her night shirt on. Her bare ass and pussy were prominently in view and instead of getting into her bed and hiding them from me, she sat on her bed, lifted a foot and started painting her toenails. In that position, her labia parted and I had a view right up the middle.
I faltered in the phone conversation and Melody said, “Tony?”
“Oh… um… yeah. Sorry. I got distracted for a minute.”
“Okay. What’s she doing?” Lissa asked. The worst of her nausea had passed and she was sounding human again but her nose was still plugged. She’d suggested that she would be home in the morning.
“Well, she’s… um… painting her toenails.”
“And…?”
“And she’s just sitting on her bed. You know, the other one, not mine.”
“And…?”
I looked up from Allison’s pussy and met her eyes. She had a smirk on her face and shifted positions. If anything, it opened her up even further and I could see the sheen of moisture gathering on her lips. Okay, I thought. I can give as good as I get. All three of these girls seemed to be asking for it.
“Well, remember what Allison was wearing at the slumber party… I mean when she was wearing anything?” I’ll never forget the first glimpse of her in that little short nightie shirt and blue panties, even while I was staring at her naked pussy. “Well, she’s not wearing it now. The crop-top she’s got on is shorter than her nightie, and I guess the panties were just for show. She says she needs emergency access in the middle of the night or something.”
Both my girlfriends were giggling.
“So she’s sitting bare-assed in front of you?” Melody asked.
“She remembers the rules of tournament play, doesn’t she?” Lissa laughed.
“Oh yeah. She stays on her bed and I stay on mine,” I answered. Allison was staring at me with her mouth open almost as wide as her pussy. I don’t think she was expecting me to describe her to my girlfriends. “As to her ass being bare, I can only assume so. It’s her front that’s on display. The thing is I can already see the telltale signs of an impending emergency.” With that, Allison put the nail polish on the table and dove under the covers, covering her head as well. “Yep. By the way she just dove under the covers, I’d say the emergency was imminent,” I laughed. Got her, the tease.
“Well, you need to get some sleep now, Tony,” Lissa said. “We’ve all had enough excitement for tonight.”
“But, if you have an emergency of your own to take care of, we could talk you through it,” Melody added. “Phone support?” With the visual stimulation I’d had and the lingering scent of Allison’s arousal in the air, I knew I wasn’t going to sleep without some relief. I turned off the light and snuggled into the bed while I listened to Lissa and Melody for another ten minutes, occasionally answering their questions about my state of arousal. Just at the point of my climax, I heard a gasp and squeak from the bed opposite me.
Hmm. Simultaneous emergencies.
Comments
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.