The Prodigal
Nine
LISSA AND I WERE ALONE at Opens. Our sportswear was on consignment in the Raquethon booth, though we had to swing by each day and replenish the stock. It hadn’t started snowing in Minneapolis yet when we arrived on Tuesday, but the temperatures were in the thirties at night and forties during the day.
I entered the tournament ranked ninth by virtue of the points I’d won at Intercollegiates and World’s. I was lucky. That meant I drew a bye in the round of 32 that played Wednesday. I had the day to get comfortable with the area and get some practice in at the Calhoun Beach Club, which had offered its facilities to competitors. Lissa and I were defending champions in mixed doubles, so we wouldn’t play until Friday. Lissa had decided not to defend her Open title. She wasn’t planning to compete at that level any longer.
We had a good workout at the club and marveled at their walled courts. There was no glass wall for these courts. Instead, there was a wide-open area of about four feet at the top of the back wall where observers could watch from above. If the ball flew out the open area, it was an automatic replay. In the hour we worked out, we never sent a ball out that hole. We just don’t use that part of the box much.
We got back in time to meet with the representatives from Raquethon. We carted boxes of women’s outfits and warm-ups to their booth. Fortunately, we don’t have to do anything for the Ice Queen Knights by Raquethon because they own all the stock. They were giving our inventory good display space, but we both anticipated that our sales wouldn’t come near what they’d been last year with our own dedicated booth. Still, our online sales were increasing steadily.
Wednesday night I took Lissa to dinner. I’d insisted she bring fancy clothes and I wore my black suit. The little black dress has never looked so good on anyone. Lissa usually prefers cream and pastels, but this black dress was unbelievably gorgeous. It fell just below her left knee, but was cut in a wedge to expose six inches above her right knee. The panels that covered her boobs—barely—had a deep plunge in front. Two thin straps fell from the back of her shoulders to just below her shoulder blades where they joined the rest of the dress. She wore strappy high heels that let her tower over me by about four inches. I didn’t mind at all!
Even though the restaurant was only a few blocks from our hotel, I called a cab. She wasn’t walking far in those heels. The cab fare was about three-eighty and I gave him a ten. He said he’d meet us back at the restaurant in two hours.
We were seated at the restaurant and after we looked at the menu, they rolled a cart of meat out and explained the different cuts. We each ordered a filet mignon. We had a fantastic salad. The meat was perfect and so tender you didn’t need a steak knife. And the brownie they served for dessert with coffee was unbelievable. Unlike the steak, they served the brownie with a steak knife. It was easily two inches thick and topped with double that much whipped cream, surrounded with strawberries and drizzled with chocolate and caramel syrup.
Enough about the food already. I’m a guy. So sue me.
“Lissa, have I told you lately how much I love you?”
“You might have mentioned it, but it could be my imagination,” she answered. I reached over and kissed her, licking a little dab of whipped cream off the corner of her mouth.
“It seems like we haven’t been alone together since… what… our Valentine’s Day outing? I miss being with only you sometimes.”
“That was a wonderful day. Our dance cards have been full.”
“God! I’m glad that some of that is over. Painting the mural was exciting, but I felt like I was in a panic half the time. School seems so much easier now.”
“It should. You’re twenty-one now, Tony.”
“Wow. That makes it sound like I’m an adult and could possibly win the affection of a gorgeous runway model,” I laughed.
“You could get lucky.”
“I had kind of an epiphany when I was preparing for World’s,” I said. “You got there first. I’m not going to be a pro racquetball player. Maybe not even a competitor once I graduate from school.”
“I thought that when you registered for Opens. You know you’re not going to meet Brian Summers by not entering the Open competition.”
“But I belong in the Men’s Elite. I decided that I’m not going to compete with the pros. Let Brian have that challenge,” I said.
“You’d still like to play him.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I still will. But there’s something else.”
“Yes lover?”
“Win or lose, I’m not going to just tease you this week.”
“You’re not?”
“No. You are too special to waste a week just teasing,” I said. “I want to hold you and love you. I want to feel your body tense beneath mine as you rise to your climax. I want to fill you with my seed until you are overflowing on me. Lissa, darling, I want to make love to you.”
“Oh, Tony…”
Our waiter chose that moment to refill our coffee cups and drop off the check. I didn’t bother to look at it. I was sure what I’d see. I put two hundred-dollar bills in the little leather folder and handed it back.
“Do you see this beautiful woman I’m with?” I asked him.
“Yes sir. She is hard to miss, sir.”
“Good answer. Keep the change.”
“Thank you, sir.” The waiter left and we were alone again.
“Tony, the meal had to have been…”
“About a hundred sixty. Thank heavens we didn’t drink.”
“You are so suave.”
“Come on, darling. Our cab should be waiting.”
Minneapolis is cool—in addition to being cold. We stood out in front of their landmark building, the Foshay Tower, and there was a bus stop there. They play music—well, to be specific, they play waltzes—in the bus shelters. Our cab wasn’t there yet, so I took Lissa in my arms and we danced on the sidewalk to the music that was piped into the bus shelters. In a few minutes, our cab pulled to the curb.
“Would you mind taking us on a little drive?” I asked the cabby.
“Not at all. Where would you like to go?” he asked.
“We were at the Calhoun Beach Club earlier and I was told driving around the lakes was a nice ride. How about that?”
“Certainly. It’ll be about thirty dollars to do all three lakes and come back to your hotel.”
“That’s fine. Thanks.”
The driver pointed out a few things to us as we drove, but mostly, I just held Lissa in my arms and looked at the big houses around the lake. We passed the Calhoun Beach Club on the west side and then went down the side of Lake Calhoun. At the south end of the lake, the driver turned off again and we drove around Lake Harriet. Then we drove up the east side of all three lakes and cut into town back to our hotel while I kissed Lissa for the last couple of miles.
I noticed the driver hadn’t turned on the meter, so I handed him two twenties. He thanked me and we headed to our room. The rest of the week we could eat thin soup and stale bread. Tonight was worth it.
The amateur matches were divided between a fitness center downtown and another one way out in St. Louis Park, west of town. My first match was in the boonies. Lissa and I caught the shuttle at nine for my first match at eleven. My match began right on time. I faced a tough local competitor who had won a match the day before. I’d been plugged into some good rock and roll on my headset this morning and I entered the court more relaxed and ready than I’d ever felt. I took him in straight games. We traded points in the first game until I broke loose at ten and piled on the points. I took the second game by eleven.
I managed to watch another match while we were still at the club and then took advantage of the elegant locker room facilities and spa before we headed back into town on the next shuttle. We checked in at the Raquethon booth at Target Center and made sure our stock was replenished and looking good. That left us with the rest of the day free.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Lissa asked.
“Seriously, Lissa, this might be the last Opens competition I come to. I love racquetball, but I’m not cut out to be a competitive player forever. I want the whole experience.”
We’d spent all afternoon in bed and even slept some. I was totally wrapped up in Lissa. Our schedule would heat up tomorrow when I played both Men’s Elite and Open Mixed Doubles. But tonight, I wanted to find out what the party was all about.
The fact that the party didn’t start until ten at The Shout House, a dance club on Hennepin Avenue, gave Lissa pause. But we were up and wide awake after our afternoon naps and didn’t play until afternoon on Friday. We were dressed more casually than the previous night, but Lissa still turned heads when we walked through the door.
“I never did this on my first trips to Opens either,” she said. “You’re right. We should enjoy the whole experience for a change.”
What a rock-out! They had dueling pianos playing rock and roll from the sixties forward, backed up by a band. There were usually two pianists and sometimes three or four, all battling it out with great music. We met several other players that we knew, some of whom were drinking heavily. I assumed they were already out of the competition. Lissa and I stuck to sparkling water and spent most of our time getting a great workout on the dance floor.
It was about midnight when I felt two feminine hands snake their way under my arms to my front while a tight, hot body pressed against me from behind. I had to have registered shock on my face as I looked at Lissa, but she was preoccupied by a man hugging her from behind as we were pushed closer together. When we were near, our assailants slid to the side so we could see them, all the time continuing to dance. We broke out laughing when we saw Jorge and Jessica Rodriguez.
We all hugged each other, facing front this time.
“Como esta? Cuanto tiempo!”
“Jorge! Jessica! What a surprise!”
Last year, our final mixed doubles match was played against these two fabulous players. It took three games, and we were all so connected by the end of the third game that we were dancing to the same salsa rhythms. It was great to see them again. We danced together for a while, then found our way to the bar for another water and sat to talk. That didn’t last long, as the party ended at one and we all flooded out onto the street to head to our hotel. We were staying in the same hotel, so we walked together.
“You have done well this year,” Jorge said to me. “We watched the World’s. You were with someone else, though. It is good to see you are still dancing with Lissa.”
“We have a large extended family,” I said. “While Allison, Kate, Wendy and I were in Santo Domingo, Lissa, Melody, and Bree were with Whitney at the Olympics.”
“So many? I think I will keep my Jessica away from you!”
“Don’t worry, Jorge,” Lissa said. “We have a full house now, though you and Jessica will be welcome to visit us in Seattle anytime.”
“That would be fun,” Jessica said. “We would like to see you more often than only at Opens. There are so few places where we can compete in mixed doubles.”
We bid each other goodnight and headed for bed.
On Friday, we headed to the Minneapolis Athletic Club for my quarter-final round. It was a bad day for Minnesotans. The guy I was up against was a good competitor and friendly as all get-out. He seemed to want to talk and joke around between every point. As a result, even though I took him in straight games, 15/11 and 15/7, it took forever. Lissa and I barely had time to make it to Target Center for our quarter-final round in mixed doubles. And wouldn’t you know the pair we faced was also local. I gave Lissa a real toe-curler of a kiss before we went onto the court and promised her I’d bury my face in her pussy when this match was over. We won by three and by two, but it didn’t take long. We watched Jorge and Jessica in the last few minutes of their match as they beat a pair from Illinois. We walked out of the Center with them as we headed back to the hotel.
We had a message waiting, and after a quick shower we headed back to the Raquethon booth with another couple boxes of outfits. They were still selling well, even though we didn’t have our own booth. When we got back to the room, we checked in back home and found that we were selling steadily online, so whatever we were selling at the booth wasn’t cutting into our direct sales significantly.
“So, what are you two going to be doing tonight?” Melody asked.
“Oh, you remember Jorge and Jessica from last year?” I asked. Lissa looked at me.
“Are you going out with them?”
“No. We met them last night at the club where we partied. They’re staying in the same hotel we are,” I said. “I just thought I’d talk about them… you know… about what they might be up to and how we might be dancing with them in the finals again.”
“Just talk?”
“Yeah. While I eat Lissa. You know. A little lick and I say, ‘Can’t you imagine Jorge down here?’ Then a minute later, ‘You’d look so cute with Jessica riding your face. Can’t you just taste her?’ Stuff like that.”
“I’m wet,” Melody said. “Aren’t you two sticking to the teasing routine?”
“Nope. I’m giving her as many orgasms as I can.” Lissa was crawling up the bed toward me, unfastening my belt and pants. “I’m thinking she’s got the same thing in mind. Oh, god! Yeah. I think you should find Kate and… help us… celebrate our victories today.”
“Yeah. Well. I gotta go now. Kate’s just pulled my panties off and… Ooh, my god! ’Bye!” Melody hung up about the time Lissa’s pussy was planted on my face. Exactly where I wanted it.
The semi-final Open and Elite matches were being played alongside the Pro matches at Target Center. I met up with Randy as he was headed for his match with Cole Cossell. We bumped fists and he wished me luck. It’s called Opens. Over 700 amateurs show up for the event and play in dozens of competitions. But the only thing anyone is interested in is the Pro competition. And who could blame them? The Open competitions were used as spacers so that people could get from one court to another to watch Lewis, Len Lauerman, Hannah DeMarco, and Portia Lupino in their semi-final matches. It was pretty much a foregone conclusion that Len would meet Randy and Hannah would meet Portia in the finals tomorrow. What it meant to me was that no one watched as I stumbled to a close victory by three and by one over a guy from New Jersey. I’d be playing on Sunday.
Lissa and I passed Hannah, fresh from her victory over Sarah Jordan on our way to the mixed doubles semi-final. Hannah gave me a big hug and wished us luck. Then she turned to Lissa.
“Well, you won that match,” she grinned, nodding toward me.
“Won and still winning,” Lissa laughed. We headed to our court.
“What was that about?”
“Hannah beat me to a pulp my first time at Opens,” Lissa said. “Then she started playing Pro and quit competing in Open. I sure hope she takes it to Portia tomorrow. Not that I wish Portia ill. I’d just like to see Hannah get the Pro title from her.”
We stepped onto the court and met another pair from South America. I know the competition is called the United States Open Racquetball Championships, but the truth is that “open” means it’s open to people from anywhere. There are championships in several other countries that Americans can play in, too. I’d seen this pair at World’s, competing for different countries. I think one was from Columbia and the other was from Ecuador. Like Jessica said, there aren’t that many places that have mixed doubles competitions or even teams. We won by six in each game and met Jorge and Jessica as we came off the court. It looked like we were set for a rematch tomorrow.
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