Triptych
Forty-six
DON’T ASK ME how we slept. I just know I woke up with my cock still wedged just inside Melody’s entrance and clamped tightly between her legs. I think I must have been hard all night.
Melody shifted and I sank a little deeper. She moaned. I held my breath and started describing each of the two hundred plus pictures of water lilies by Monet in my head.
“We could just…” she whispered as I pinched her nipple.
“Wouldn’t be fair,” I answered.
“But it’s all so perfect.”
“Remind me to sleep like this with you again.”
“Sleep with me like this again.”
“Gladly.”
I started pulling out slowly. She followed me, making it even slower. Finally, I was all the way out. “Oh,” she moaned.
“I’m taking a cold shower. Right now,” I said, rolling out of bed. “It’s the only way there is a chance that I’ll be able to pee this morning.”
The final matches in the elite and pro divisions didn’t start quite as early as the preliminaries this week. Allison, of course, would go first. In addition to the cuddling and moaning she and Lissa had done last night, they’d had an intense whispered conversation this morning. Lissa had gone to the locker room with her and they’d emerged in matching Ice Queen outfits. They were about the same height and weight, but with Allison’s tits and Lissa’s blonde hair, no one would ever get them confused. Still, for a minute I thought I was looking at the Ice Queen and the Ice Queen II.
I sat with Melody to watch the match. Harold had kindly agreed to watch the store while Allison played. He’d be catching a plane back to Boston before Lissa’s final match this afternoon, but we’d agreed to simply close up shop before that match and reopen afterward if we thought it was necessary. Allison played at ten and Lissa at three.
“Look at the charts, Melody. Did you realize this?”
“Realize what?”
“Allison is the only one undefeated in her division. Even if she loses this match, it’s a tie for first and they’ll go to point spread between the top two. She’s practically locked in to win the tournament,” I said.
“Does she know that?”
“If she’d been aware of it, she’d have said something. I’m not even sure Lissa knows.”
“Should we tell them?”
“I don’t think so. But man, this is going to be interesting.”
And interesting it was. Allison dominated the opening game, exercising cool control through twenty-five minutes of play. She won by seven. She came off the court and sat down between games, looking straight ahead. Lissa handed her a water bottle and whispered in her ear. Then the players returned to the court. Allison served first.
I’d never seen such power in her serves. And she put every one of them in exactly the same place. Her twenty-three-year-old opponent failed to return the first five at all. The serves all went from about two-thirds right in the serving lane to what I’d have called “a foot to the right and six inches below the scuff” on the end wall that always filled my imagination. They came back at the same trajectory, bouncing off the side wall and across court just over the short line. Her opponent stood right where the ball was coming and couldn’t get it all the way to the front wall. She finally got a return in, but Allison sent it back with such force that the girl didn’t stand a chance of making the play.
Allison lost the service after eight straight points. Her opponent served once and was side-out. I’d never seen such consistency. Allison’s next five serves were exactly the same before she was side-out again. Her opponent got one serve. I saw Lissa signal for a time out and Allison came off the court to talk to her. They nodded to each other and Allison returned for her next serve.
Strategy changed. Her next serve was an easy lob that nearly made the back wall before it hit the floor. Her opponent took it off the wall and Allison missed the return for side-out. The serve to Allison didn’t seem to be that tough a serve, but her return was soft and her opponent spiked the ball into the corner for a point. It was thirteen-one. Allison gave her one more point on a soft return before taking control of the game again. Her opponent was side-out and Allison served two straight aces in the exact same location as the first thirteen points to take the game and match. We had another champion on our team.
“What was with the change-up near the end when you served a lob?” I asked when she’d come off the court. Melody gave her a quick kiss and ran back to the lobby to man the store.
“Um… Lissa said.”
“Said what?”
“That girl didn’t deserve to be skunked,” Lissa said. “She played hard and Allison was playing at a level above where she started the tournament. You were amazing, baby. I’m glad I wasn’t in there with you.”
“So, you gave her points?”
“Not really. She had to earn them, but I backed off the intensity of my serve.”
“I’ve never seen such incredible control and perfect serves.”
“Well, if you’d rather watch the women’s pro match tonight instead of coming back to the room and getting your eyes fucked out, you’ll see them when Portia Lupino takes the court. That’s what gave me the idea,” Lissa said. “We just set Allison up to be compared to Portia by everyone who knows racquetball.”
“They’ll all know my opponent wasn’t pro level,” Allison protested.
“They’ll know that in their heads,” Lissa responded. “But when Portia did that at Worlds, her opponent looked like a beginner.”
“Okay,” I said. “Shower and dress. We’ve got time for a light lunch before Lissa has to start getting ready.”
Lissa’s opponent in the final match was Janet Bacon, a pro.
That’s what an Open competition is. Any elite competitor can take on the others. Most high-level pros don’t compete in Opens because the Pro division has more prestige and you have to play too many matches if you want to compete in both. I’d nearly exhausted Lissa by competing with her in mixed doubles.
It looked bleak. Lissa lost the first game by five points.
“Lissa, look at me, darling,” I said as she came off the court for her five-minute break. She raised her eyes wearily to meet mine.
“I’m sorry, Tony. I’m just not on top of it.”
“Mmm,” I said. “You can get on top of me.”
“What?”
“Later. You know, win or lose, we’re going to make love tonight and nothing else in the world will matter.”
“Is this supposed to encourage me to play better racquetball.”
“No. Forget about playing better, darling. You are already the best there is. Play racquetball like you want to make love to me tonight. You want it hard? My face between your thighs? To ride me until you come over and over?” I asked. Lissa was smiling. “Oh, it’s not just me you want to ride. You want to drench Allison in your juices. And look at Janet over there getting lectured by her coach. I bet her pussy is soaked with sweat, too. You could spank her bottom before you buried your…”
“Okay, Tony,” Lissa said breathlessly. “I get it. Give me a drink of water. I’m going back on the court.”
Wow! Control and focus. Lissa took Janet by surprise. Serves came fast and slow. She brought the pace to a crescendo and just when her opponent caught the rhythm, Lissa changed it.
“What the hell did you tell her?” Allison asked as we watched.
“Told her that as soon as she got this over she could ride your face until she came,” I deadpanned.
“Ohh…” she moaned.
Lissa put the game away by eight points. She waved me off as I came to her during her break.
“I’ve got it now, Tony. Don’t interrupt.”
I didn’t say a word, but went back to my seat and smiled.
The last game of the match was hard-fought. They exchanged serves and exchanged points. I had a feeling they were exchanging words out there, too, but they were so soft between serves that no one could hear them. Just watching them play, I could feel myself getting hard. I think Allison noticed because I felt her hand on my thigh, clenching and releasing, with the tension of the match. There was something about the way they were playing that was not only athletic, but sensuous. They passed close to each other at every break, the conversation continuing, occasionally their hands brushing against each other.
“Oh my god!” I said. “She’s seducing her.”
Allison looked at me with her eyes wide. She caught her breath.
“We could have five in bed tonight,” she whispered.
The last rally for game point was intense. Janet was pushing hard. Lissa was giving back everything she got at a furious pace. I’d seen this kind of action from the inside once when Lissa and I connected and never let the ball touch the floor. It was right after that game that John suggested we play mixed doubles. Janet went for a hard low ball coming off the wall and slid on her knees halfway to the front wall. I saw the look of agony cross her face, not from the floor burn, but from the knowledge that if Lissa returned the ball, there was no way Janet could get to it. Lissa knew it as well, but left nothing to chance as she pulled her swing and tapped the ball into the opposite corner of the wall and watched it dribble on the floor. Game, match, championship.
Lissa crossed to Janet and helped her up off the floor. The two women embraced and Janet almost collapsed in Lissa’s arms as I watched her knees weaken. They walked off the court hand-in-hand and lifted them to the adulation of the crowd.
The Ice Queen was victorious.
Comments
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
