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"Asian Porn at Japanese Fuck Asian Sex Free Asian Porn-She always followed my adventures"

It started innocently enough. I had read a few stories (like this one…) on the Internet, and started to experiment…

My first time playing the role of mommy but I had a lot of fun, I hope you all enjoy!…

I took some free days at home after a boring business trip.On these some days, my loving wife was sent…

“Wendy, I’ve told you before. You are NOT going out without a bra on, and that’s final,” said Wendy’s mother, Bea, as she caught her daughter sneaking out of the house for school. One glance at her daughter’s tight school blouse had confirmed that her fourteen-year-old daughter had not put one on, again.“Oh mom, c’mon, I’m late for school!” complained Wendy, looking down at her own chest – was it that obvious?“Not my problem. I told you before that you’re not to go to school without one.”“Aw, mom, no-one will know!”“Wendy,” sighed Bea, she’d been through this argument many times, “I told you before – you’re a big girl now. You can’t go out like that, it really does show.”“I’ll put one on tomorrow, promise. It’s just that I’m late now,” said Wendy trying to get away.“No!” yelled her exasperated mother and grabbed Wendy’s arm. Pulling her back into the hall she closed the front door firmly.“Look!” she said, pushing Wendy in front of the hall mirror. “Can’t you see?”“See what?” said Wendy in an annoyed, bored tone.At that moment, Mark, Wendy’s younger brother came through the hall on his way to school.“Nice tits!” he said, cheekily.“That’s enough of that!” called Bea at his retreating back. Mark slammed the door noisily.Wendy sulked in front of the mirror. Bea tried a conciliatory tone. “Look Wendy, it really does show.”She pulled Wendy’s tight-fitting school blouse in slightly at the waist making her breasts stand out even more. The nipples poked the material into small peaks. Wendy was large breasted, like her mother, and her breasts, that months ago had seemed like puppy fat were now becoming all too apparent as she slimmed down.“It’s my body – I don’t have to do what you say!” spat back Wendy.This made Bea angry – she had tried being nice with no result.“Wendy! You are NOT going out without a bra and that’s my final word!” she yelled.“Screw you!” hurled back Wendy.Bea looked at her daughter, shocked. Her daughter stood before her, chest thrust out defiantly. She had never heard her daughter use such language or that tone on her before. Enraged, she lashed out and slapped Wendy firmly across her breasts with her open hand. Wendy screamed in surprise and the stinging pain but was so angry with her mother that she slapped her mother back. Bea had not yet dressed and Wendy’s hand slapped her straight across her large breasts that were covered by nothing except the flimsy material of her night dress. The slap caused tears of pain to run down her cheeks. Bea was livid.“How dare you slap me young lady!” she roared and made a well-aimed slap connect with Wendy’s breasts again.Wendy clutched her chest in agony before launching herself at her mother with fury. Grabbing handfuls of her mother’s ample breasts she squeezed the flesh hard, making her mother gasp with pain as she pushed her back against the wall. In retaliation, Bea reached out and grabbed her daughter’s breasts, tearing open the buttons of her school blouse in the process and exposing the smaller, but well-formed breasts of her daughter.Now mother and daughter engaged in a battle of will versus pain. Staring defiantly into each other’s eyes they kneaded, twisted and pulled at each other’s breasts as pain seared through their bodies.Eventually, due to her superior strength, Bea began to get the upper hand. Sensing near victory she pushed her daughter to her knees by her breasts and leant over her, victorious. Wendy, sensing that she was about to lose her grip on her mother’s jugs, leant forward and bit into the flesh dangling before her. He mother screamed in pain.“You vicious little bitch!” she screamed and released her grip on Wendy’s young breasts immediately.Wendy savoured her moment of victory over her mother and bit harder into the tender breast whilst simultaneously reaching up and tugging viciously on the exposed nipple of the other. Her mother now sobbed in agony, begging her daughter to release her tender breasts from her clasp. Wendy was unsure whether to trust her mother yet and held on a little longer but once she was certain that her mother had given up the fight she let go and stood defiantly in front of her, her own sore breasts pointed naked and proud in front of her.Bea clutched at her reddening sore breasts, scooping one up to examine the damage left by Wendy’s vicious mouth. She felt a little faint as the waves of pain receded. Wiping away a tear she said, “You were always biting me when you fed from these too.”Wendy suddenly felt very guilty at what she had done to her mother. The woman who had given birth to her and had fed her at her own breast.“Oh mom, I’m so sorry….” she started, looking down at her mother’s exposed breasts that were reddening from the pummelling they had received at her hands. Instinctively she reached out to touch one, to make it feel better, but her mother flinched away as she reached out.“Oh mom, I’m not going to hurt you any more. I just wanted to make you feel better!”Slowly, cautiously, Bea dropped her hands from her sore and aching breasts as Wendy reached up to gently hold them. She gently stroked the area that she had bitten, her face wincing with imagined pain at the hurt she had just caused. Bea smiled and reached up her own hands to cup her daughter’s tender breasts and gently stroked the red streaked flesh better.Bea grinned broadly. “Look at us,” she said and Wendy had to laugh at the ridiculous sight they made in the mirror – mother and daughter, stroking each other’s bruised and battered breasts.“Come on,” she said, “Go and sit down and I’ll get some ice – you can’t go to school like that!”While Wendy went and flopped on the sofa, Bea went to the kitchen and fetched some ice that she rolled up inside a cloth. All the time she felt a strong throbbing ache from her own breasts.Kneeling beside Wendy she first told her to remove the ripped school blouse she was wearing. Wendy winced as she tried to undo the remaining buttons so Bea helped her daughter with it, undoing the buttons down to her waist then finally pulling it off her arms, leaving her daughter’s chest fully exposed. Gently she put the ice-pack to her daughter’s sore breasts and dabbed at the tender teats very carefully.“Ooh!” shivered Wendy. “Thanks mom. That feels really great – why don’t you try it?”She took the cloth from her mother’s hands and, slipping the ripped night dress from her mother’s shoulders, tended to her breasts with the ice-pack. Bea hung her head back, letting her long hair slide down her back and enjoyed the sensations of the ice-pack being gently moved over her full breasts. She could not prevent her nipples from becoming taught under the sensations, causing a frisson of pleasure and pain. Bea had thick, long nipples and in hardening they tugged at her breasts. Wendy giggled at the sight of them erecting under her ministrations; they were like two independent creatures. Playfully she brushed the back of her hand over one nipple, enjoying the rubbery feeling and the way it bounced back into position. Her mother winced at the sensation.“Ouch! That’s really tender right now!” she complained.“Sorry mom,” said Wendy. She looked down at her own nipples which had also hardened into two tight little nubs, but they were nowhere near the size of her mother’ immense teats. Wendy felt slightly envious and wondered if her own breasts would ever be as large as her mother’s. She suddenly had an insane desire to suckle at one of the rubbery teats and wondered if it was a hangover from when she was a baby. Did all children have a secret longing to suckle at their mother’s breasts again? She dismissed the idea from her mind and went back to dabbing the ice-pack on her mother’s breasts.“Mom….” began Wendy, coyly.“Yes dear? What is it?” answered her mother vaguely, eyes still shut.“Ummm, can I ask you something…?”“Anything….” breathed Bea.“Uhmmm…. Do I have to go to school today?”Bea opened her eyes and looked at her daughter sharply. Glancing at her daughter’s exposed breasts she saw that they still looked red and sore from her punishment of them. She felt a pang of guilt.“Well, no, my dear. But just for today until those get better.”Bea closed her eyes and hung back her head again. Wendy grinned happily and continued ministering to her mother’s throbbing breasts.Later that day the doorbell rang. Bea opened the door and recognised the woman immediately, it was Wendy’s teacher, Ms. Brahms. She was not smiling.“Hello Ms. Brahms, what can I do for you?”“Do you mind if I come in?”“Certainly not, come in and have a seat. Coffee?”“No. Thank you,” said Rachel Brahms coldly as she stepped past Bea and entered the living room.When they were both sitting Rachel came straight to the point, “Mrs. Lee, where is Wendy?”“Oh, in bed – she’s not feeling well today.”“Are you sure she’s really ill?”“Oh certainly, I… I examined her myself. Why do you ask?” said Bea, leaning forward.Rachel Brahms glanced down at Bea’s full breasts that surged into a cleavage in her low cut top. She couldn’t help noticing the red marks and this distraction flustered her slightly.“I… I wanted to check with you as Wendy’s taken a lot of time of school this year and I’m worried about her performance. Also, there was a more, uhm, personal matter.”Looking at Rachel, Bea could see she was somewhat uncomfortable. “Oh? And what would that be?”“Well, it’s a bit delicate, but could you ask Wendy to wear a bra to school in future?”Bea flushed. It was one thing for her to tell her own daughter to wear a bra but she resented this young teacher coming to her house and telling her what her daughter should or shouldn’t wear. She snapped.“What’s the matter? Can’t keep your eyes off them then?”Rachel’s eyes, which had once again slipped down to examining Bea’s enticing cleavage, flicked back to Bea’s face and for a face-reddening moment Rachel thought she had been talking about her looking at Bea’s own ample breasts. When she twigged she was horrified and stammered out an explanation.“Oh… oh no, I… I didn’t mean that at all! I simply meant that your daughter’s, uhm, well, breasts were a distraction to some of her classmates.” Oh dear, thought Rachel, this isn’t going at all how I imagined it.Bea sat up straight. She had noticed with contempt that Rachel had been ogling her own breasts.“I’m not so sure – you’re not exactly well stacked are you?” she said, cruelly referring to the small bumps in Rachel’s top. “Maybe you’re jealous. You certainly can’t seem to take your eyes of these,” she added, thrusting out her own full bosom.“I… I wasn’t!” stammered Rachel, blushing crimson.“Really?” said Bea and in one swift movement she had unfastened her top and her unfettered breasts sprang free.Rachel could not help but gawp at the magnificent sight of them. For the second time that day Bea felt inordinately proud of her breasts.“I… I have to go,” muttered Rachel, reluctantly tearing her eyes from Bea’s chest and standing.“Fine with me,” said Bea.Rachel rushed from the room and let herself out.As the door slammed Bea burst out laughing and Wendy joined her from the other side of the door where she’d been listening to the whole thing. Wendy too was topless; her breasts still felt too sore to be covered.“Oh mom, you were simply BRILLIANT!” she squealed and hugged her mother tightly.Naked breast to naked breast the two women embraced happily.

My name is Melanie Stuart, Mel to anyone who really knows me. This story hinges on a problem I have had since age twelve. I am told it is a serious one, at least that’s what all the doctors and talk show hosts say. It may seem very distasteful or even quite disgusting to many that read this story. For this I am sorry, but if I am to be honest I must tell it as it really happened.I guess my problem or illness started when I was in gymnastics. I was a good gymnast and trained four hours a day with dreams of going to the Olympics. Being a gymnast I had to watch my weight and like many of my teammates developed an eating disorder. Yes, I was bulimic. I’d go on binges eating everything in sight and then make myself throw up. My teammates and I used to have bingeing parties eating whole bags of chips and cookies and then watch each other puke it all up. We thought it was cool, but also knew it was wrong and dangerous so we kept it secret from everyone outside our little cliche.An injury ended my gymnastics career just before I turned fourteen. I left the sport with a tight, under-developed (for my age) gymnast body and of course my dark secret, bulimia. During the next few years my body began to change rapidly and by the time I turned sixteen I was no longer that cute little flat gymnast. Though still somewhat petite at 5’2,” I was now a 34C and had sprouted 37 inch hips and full round buttocks while keeping a 25 inch waist. My legs, though they had lost some of the muscle tone I had had while competing, were still very strong and shapely.In high school guys showed a lot of interest in me. I have to admit that I certainly went out of my way to encourage them. I dated often and figured out what boys wanted very quickly. I lost my virginity my sophomore year and never looked back.Though I guess I had an alright body I was still bulimic and constantly struggled, usually unsuccessfully, with the temptation to binge and purge. I kept it a secret from everyone until I met Mike.Mike and I met my Freshman year in college shortly after I turned eighteen. He was twenty-seven, a grad student at the university and, I might add, gorgeous, 6’2″ and about 180lbs with beautiful blue eyes. I was in love the moment I met him. We started dating and it soon led to me spending a lot of nights at his apartment. I loved it, but sometimes when we had gone out for dinner and I had eaten a lot I felt the compulsion to purge. Sometimes when the urge became too much for me I’d wait until he fell asleep and then sneak to the bathroom and make myself barf. I did this a few times and he never seemed the wiser, at least that was what I thought.I guess I hadn’t been careful enough because one night as I was sticking my fingers down my throat the bathroom door flew open. The next thing I knew Mike was standing over me with a look of shock on his face as I quickly pulled my hand away from my mouth. I was mortified.“So, what’s the matter Mel?” he asked still staring at me huddled by the toilet in a t shirt and panties, my face flushed in panic.“I, I wasn’t feeling well,” I lied though it was at least partially true.“Why the fingers down the throat then?” he asked suspiciously as he leaned against the sink in his underwear…I hesitated a few anxious moments diverting my eyes guiltily from him… Unable to look at him I just stared at the floor anxiously, “I thought it would help,” I whimpered.“You seem to have this problem a lot. I suspect there is more to this,” he said accusingly.I sat there on the cold tile floor leaning against the toilet dumbfounded. “He Knows,” I screamed inside. Tears began to flow down my cheeks as I looked up at him, “Please don’t be mad,” I cried.As tears streamed down my face he knelt down next to me and took me in his arms. At first I didn’t even notice this understanding gesture as I became consumed in the embarrassment and humiliation that he now knew my dark secret.“Mel, it’s ok. I understand,” he whispered as he comforted me in his arms.I raised my head and looked through my puffy tearing eyes at the sincerely concerned expression on his face. His reaction surprised me. “You don’t think I’m disgusting?” I asked between sniffles.“No honey, I don’t,” he said smiling as he wiped the tears from my cheek.“I love you so much,” I cried wrapping my arms around his neck.Our lips met in a soft, beautiful union. It was quite honestly the most romantic kiss I had ever experienced despite the fact that we were leaning against the toilet. I was in heaven and opened my mouth as his tongue played lovingly with mine.While I sucked on his tongue he slipped his hand under my shirt and began to caress my soft, pliable breasts. His touch excited me so much and I held tightly to his neck with one hand as I ran my other hand over his broad muscular back welcoming his need for me.For a few minutes we were lost in an embrace that I hoped would never end, but then he pulled away and just peered into my red swollen eyes questioningly.“What?” I asked somewhat defensively.“Nothing,” he assured me still looking at me strangely.“What??” I asked again anxiously frustrated with his evasiveness. “You still want to do it, don’t you?” he probed.“No, just forget it, OK,” I whined diverting my eyes from his embarrassing gaze.“Mel, it’s ok. If you want to go ahead, really, I don’t mind, really,” he insisted as he tried to lift my chin to look at him.His words to say the least shocked me and I immediately looked up at him. “What??” I asked surprised that he would actually encourage me to do such a thing.His expression puzzled me I was feeling such shame, so dirty and disgusting, but at that moment he was gazing at me with desire. “How could he want me?!” I thought to myself incredulously.Glancing down I could see the obvious lustful excitement protruding in his underwear. I was speechless.Before I could find my voice he grabbed me by my hips and lifted me onto my knees so that my face lay flush against the rim of the open toilet bowl. I placed my hand on the rim and raised my face off the cold porcelain as he positioned himself behind me.“Mike, what do you want?” I asked in confusion.“Take off the shirt,” he ordered sternly.His abrupt tone was not that of my lover, he was a stranger! I had never seen him like this before. I felt a chill rush through me as my queasy stomach knotted in fear. Submissively I raised up on my knees quickly pulling the t shirt over my head.Tossing it away I timidly peeked back over my shoulder. He just stared at me as if in a daze as he slipped his fingers in the waistband of my panties and slowly peeled them down over my wide hips. I watched him slip my panties over the ample, meaty globes of my ass and drag them to my knees.Feeling his hand cup my sex I turned my head back to face forward and shut my eyes as I nervously submitted to his probing fingers. My knees instinctively opened wider stretching taut the elastic of my little panties. I felt so vulnerable, so defenseless at that moment, my guilt ridden mind telling me that I had no right to object no matter what he did to me. .“OOOHH,” I yelped, my eyes agape in fearful shock as my panties cut into my flesh and were ripped from my legs.For an instant his unexpected brutality left me trembling, my heart pounding in my chest, however my fear soon dissipated as two fingers worked their way into my dripping pussy. As the long thick digits began to finger fuck my wet cunt I brazenly arched my back and began to grind my crotch madly against his hand.“Oh Mike, yeah fuck me,” I whimpered.Seconds later Mike crammed a third finger into my hole stretching it wide. As he continued to fuck me his thumb seemed to be spanking my distended clit with each thrust of his hand. Lost in a masochistic haze of excruciating pleasure I spread my legs obscenely to allow him to plunge his fingers deeper into my sopping cunt. I clawed at the cold, hard rim of the open toilet, his fist slamming into my crotch incessantly, until my cunt jolted violently as I became overcome in orgasm.Mike’s fingers slipped from my oozing hole as I knelt panting breathlessly, my head hanging in the toilet with the ends of my shoulder length hair dipped in the clean clear water.Before I could move I felt his hard cock rubbing along my slit and I could feel my own arousal seeping from my pussy wetting his shaft… Coming down from my orgasm I began to feel the all too familiar cramping in my stomach. Though I felt uncomfortably bloated I wanted so much to please him and longed to feel him inside me.Gazing into the toilet water I waited anxiously for him to penetrate me. My confusion over what he had said was all but forgotten as I knelt there wiggling my fleshy ass pleadingly for him to fuck me.Finally his cock, wet with my juice, slowly slid into my hungry cunt and began a steady rhythm in and out as I moaned feeling another orgasm rising from deep in my full belly. My pussy involuntarily squeezed his beautiful prick as my pussy twinged. Tiny orgasms peaked and subsided as quickly as they came, but I wanted more and began to buck back against his rigid pistoning cock.“Do it for me Mel… Make yourself do it!” Mike exclaimed breathlessly as he rammed me from behind.“Do what?” I cried out in confusion.“I want you to make yourself do it, NOW!” he screamed as his big cock drove violently into me making my supple globes bellow from the force.“I, I can’t,” I whined suddenly realizing what he wanted me to do.“Yes you can, DO IT,” SMACK, he yelled striking my quivering ass cheek with the palm of his hand.I screamed in shock more than pain at the sudden stinging blow and grabbed the rim of the bowl with both hands in an attempt to move away from him. Mike held me firmly in place preventing me from escaping as the thrusts of his cock became much harder shoving me forward so that my head was completely over the bowl, my flopping tits banging heavily against the cold porcelain.“DO IT Mel,” SMACK – SMACK, he demanded as he again spanked me burning my sensitive fleshy ass.Mike pummeled my hot pussy relentlessly as tears fell from my cheeks rippling the still waters beneath me. Desperate to please him I reluctantly brought my fingers to my mouth. As my fingers reached my lips my mind blurred aware only of how much my bloated stomach and insatiable pussy craved release.“Oh Mike, oh God” I whimpered and then I jammed my fingers down my throat just as Mike was ramming his cock into me. My face contorted as I stared wide-eyed for the imminent carnage. I gagged violently and then suddenly I was puking into the bowl as I lunged involuntarily against the savage thrusts of Mike’s cock.Aroused and humiliated beyond reason I suddenly felt surges crashing in my cunt as I heaved one last time. Orgasms ripped through me as Mike grunted, gripping my hips tightly in his strong hands while his hot cum erupted deep in my clenching hole. Mike leaned over my sweaty back and kissed it lovingly as I gasped for breath staring at the string of spit and bile that extended from my lips to the cesspool below. I was still in a state of shock and had not yet begun to think rationally about what had just happened. At that moment I only felt relief, but the levels of that relief were not yet clear to me.Moments later Mike’s now softening manhood slipped from my sore, satiated pussy and he immediately pulled me off the toilet and swung me around to face him. When our eyes met embarrassment overwhelmed me as he gazed at my face, my eyes swollen and red, cheeks flushed and remnants of my purging still dripping from my lips and chin. To my shock he embraced me and drew me to him. I peered up at him confused that he was not repulsed by me. A strange almost mischievous smile grew on his face and then he kissed me passionately bathing his tongue in my defiled mouth. Breaking the kiss he cleaned my lips and chin with his tongue seemingly aroused by its fowl taste and stench. I watched in awe as he then took my hand and cleaned the very fingers I had only minutes before shoved down my throat. Without a word we stood up and I got in the shower as Mike flushed and cleansed the toilet bowl. He then joined me in the shower and we washed each other in utter silence. When we were done we toweled off and went to bed where I, exhausted and I guess somewhat in denial, fell asleep cradled in his strong arms…The next morning I awoke finding him already awake. His head was propped up in his hand and he had apparently been watching me sleep. “Good morning,” he whispered kissing my cheek tenderly. “How do you feel?” he asked with a concerned look.“I’m ok,” I answered hoarsely as the events of the previous evening flooded back. “I can’t believe we did that,” I said, my guilt intensifying with the graphic images of him fucking me like an animal as I made myself puke as I came on his cock.“You liked it though, didn’t you,” he smirked without hesitation.“Stop it,” I pleaded burying my face in the pillow remembering the intense orgasms I had had during the final dry heaves.My mind reeled with chaotic horror. I felt so dirty and disgusting. No normal person could ever understand what we had done. “How could I have done it- my God, how could he? Is he… are we that perverted?” I asked myself.As I began to cry Mike rolled over and got on top of me before I knew what was happening. His cock was already hard and as I pulled my pillow off my face he spread my limp legs and sunk his cock slowly into my surprisingly moist vagina. I stared up at him incensed that he would want to make love when I was feeling such anguish. Supported on elbows he stared at me lustfully. “YOU DID, you loved getting fucked while you puked your guts out,” he laughed.“NO, I didn…” my protest smothered by his lips.Suddenly I was consumed in the passion and force of his kiss and the tingling sensations his hard thrusts provoked. I ground my pelvis against his overwhelmed by my sudden hunger for him. He raised up and peered lustfully down at me as he pulled my knees up to my chest holding them captive with his strong arms.“I LOVED SEEING YOU PUKE – FUCKING YOU WITH YOUR FACE IN THE DIRTY TOILET,” he shouted as he drove deep into my defenseless cunt.“NO, OH GOD NO,” I screamed tearfully as I began to thrash about, my legs limply flailing in the air. My burning pussy began to betray me, acknowledging what I could not yet admit to myself. My darkest wanton desires seemed to fuel my arousal and suddenly surges of my orgasm began to grip my belly..“Fuck ME,” I cried, my eyes clenched shut as I became focused only on my imminent climax. Mike was an animal fucking me out of control forcing loud guttural grunts from us both each time he slammed into me. Suddenly it was there. “Oh, ohhh…” I cried as my hole constricted on his cock with crashing wavesMike rammed his cock into me for a few more seconds after my orgasms dwindled. I just lay there like a rag doll as he pumped his load into my happy pussy.We talked some afterwards about my bulimia and the events of the previous evening. Relieved that he was accepting of my illness I struggled to find some way of rationalizing what we had done. As we discussed it briefly we seemed to avoid, at least verbally, any condemnation of our perverse behavior. No matter how much I tried to deny the depravity of that night I would find myself drowning in guilt.I felt guilt on so many levels. I had always felt guilty about my bulimia, but now the fact that it had brought some twisted sexual gratification to both Mike and I appalled me. Over the next few days I tried desperately to convince myself that it had been a fluke thing brought on by our desire for each other and the shock we had both experienced when he had discovered my secret. I tried to rationalize that it had just been our unique way of dealing with it all, but his words kept haunting me. Every time I thought I had a handle on it I would relive that morning as he shouted those awful things as he fucked me, “You loved getting fucked while you puked” – “I loved watching you puke”. As his words echoed in my mind I felt so ashamed of how their perversity excited me. Each time my mind replayed that night in his bathroom I would find myself touching myself, my panties soaked with my juices.A few days later Mike suggested we go to the city and have dinner, maybe take in some clubs. I readily agreed knowing that we always had such fun when we went there. We made reservations at a little motel we had stayed at on previous trips. Mike preferred to stay overnight rather than driving the hour and a half back to campus after a night on the town drinking.Well, when we got to the city on Friday evening we weren’t really hungry so we took in a few clubs. It really was fun, we danced and drank up a storm till about midnight.When we left the last club we were famished and immediately found a cute little cafe to have dinner. I was so hungry and a little drunk so I didn’t realize how much food I ordered. When I was giving the waitress my order Mike seemed to be smirking at me. I realized that he was amused at what I was ordering and I just looked at him with a cutesy grin, “I’m hungry!” I said laughing. He just smiled and told me order whatever I wanted.I ate two appetizers, a big entry and even found a way to stuff a big slice of banana cream pie and some ice cream into me despite how gorged I felt. I’m not stupid – I knew I was bingeing, but in my somewhat drunken state I didn’t care.As we were paying the check I asked Mike to wait while I used the ladies room.“It’s not far to the motel – can you hold it?” he asked more like telling me than asking me.“Alright, let’s go,” I agreed reluctantly.He quickly paid the check and we left. I know he was looking forward to spending the rest of the evening having sex, but at that moment sex was the farthest thing from my mind. I felt so stuffed and sat uncomfortably in the passenger seat anxious to reach the motel and get it out of me.Upon reaching the motel I waited impatiently in the car as Mike checked us into our room. I felt horrible during those few minutes, my overstuffed stomach beginning to ache while struggling to hold my pee. I thought I would burst. As soon as we got in the room Mike made a dash for the bathroom. When I realized he was going to use the bathroom I tried to grab him. “I HAVE TO GO MIKE” I screamed.Ignoring me he quickly went inside and shut the door behind him as I stood outside squeezing my legs together in agony. “HURRY MIKE,” I pleaded.When he finally came out I was surprised to see that he was naked, but ignored it as I tried to get by him thankful I hadn’t peed in my pants. Just as I tried to negotiate around him he blocked the door. .“Get the fuck out of the way, I’m dying!” I cried in frustration as he just stood in the doorway smiling.“This isn’t funny – I’ve got to go,” I pleaded.“Don’t worry you’re going to go,” he laughed as he pulled his hand out from behind his back. I stared at the shower curtain he had in his hand in confusion. “What the hell are you doing with that?” I asked perplexed.“Mel take it and spread it out on the floor – I want to watch you pee on it,” he ordered holding the sheet of plastic out for me to take.“NO FUCKEN WAY,” I shouted indignantly assuming he was joking.“Well you can pee on the rug then, cause you’re not getting in here,” he said triumphantly.He stood in the doorway and crossed his arms in front of him, the curtain hanging from a fist, with a defiant look on his face. “You’re serious,” I exclaimed in disbelief.His face softened, his eyes almost pleading with me to cooperate. Please Mel, I really want this,” he said, his voice calm but firm.For a few moments I just stared at him dumbfounded. I couldn’t believe he was asking me to stand on a shower curtain and pee on it while he watched. Was he that perverted? In my wildest fantasies I had never conceived of such a thing. As I stood frozen unwilling to cooperate my bladder screamed for release quickly weakening my resolve.He stood in the doorway with an unyielding expression waiting for my inevitable submission. Realizing he was not going to let me in the bathroom I hesitantly extended my hand toward the plastic curtain in silent consent“Take off your clothes while I lay it out,” he instructed eagerly.Grimacing in disgust I went to the bed and with my back to him quickly removed my clothes desperate to pee regardless of where I did it. When I was naked I turned to face him. He already had the shower curtain laid out on the floor in front of the bathroom door and was now folding over the edges I suppose so that nothing would get on the carpet. Once he was done he stood back in the doorway and smiled mischievously.I had to pee so badly I quickly stepped onto the sheet of plastic and stood awkwardly in front of his lustful gaze unsure how I was to do it. I must have looked confused because he instructed me to spread my feet out and squat down. Exasperated I glared at him as I squatted down as he wished. .Suddenly feeling silly I nervously peeked up at him flashing him a weak smile embarrassed at how I must have appeared. I quickly diverted my attention from his eager eyes and stared down at my pussy, which was spread wide open.My bloated bladder needed no more inducement and after a couple of trickling squirts a torrid of hot piss began to pour from between my open legs. In the position I was in I could see and feel my urine splashing up wetting my ass and thighs as it flowed freely over my bare feet. Relieved as my bladder emptied on the floor I looked up at Mike and saw that he was stroking his erection as he stared wantonly at the spectacle before him.During those few seconds I watched him jerk off I began to feel a perverse excitement having done this for him. The idea of squatting naked in front of him and peeing on the floor was so taboo, so lewd, but suddenly I found it thrilling.As the stream dissipated he knelt down in front of me and took me into his arms. Dropping to my knees I returned his embrace as we kissed passionately kneeling in the warm puddle I had created for us.Reaching between us I took his rigid cock in my little hand and began to slowly stroke him just as I had watched him do to himself just moments before. Our lips parted and I watched as he immersed his hand in the puddle beside us and then raise the dripping fingers to his mouth. He gazed into my curious eyes as he extended his tongue licking my pee from them slowly. He seemed to savor the taste and licked all around each finger so not to miss a drop.If someone had told me that he would do this I’m sure I would have been grossed out. For some reason watching him taste my pee wasn’t disgusting, at that moment it was the most intensely erotic act I had ever seen.Suddenly he moved forward pushing me back onto my butt splashing pee up between my legs. My ass and thighs were covered with piss. Startled and instinctively repulsed I began to resist trying to get back on my knees, but he moved over me forcing me to lay back as he got between my legs. My god, I was laying in my own urine!“Oh Mike, God I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I whispered excitedly as he nestled his rock hard cock in my wet pubic hair.“I’m going to fuck you in your pee,” he hissed as he aimed his cock at my soaked pussy.Laying flat on my back Mike embraced me as we began to fuck excitedly in the warm pungent liquid. I wiggled beneath him overwhelmed by the sensations of my body slipping and sliding as he ground me into the wet plastic with each thrust of his stiff cock.I loved it, but his weight on my full belly was becoming too much to bare. “Please Mike, get off my stomach,” I begged.Mike, realizing my problem, got up on his knees and with an evil smirk swung my leg over turning me onto my stomach. Before he had me turned completely I tried to get myself up on my knees, but I wasn’t quick enough. The maneuver had gotten my stomach, chest and tits covered in pee, but I was beyond caring.Feeling partial relief in my aching stomach I knelt before him on my hands and knees completely wet with urine anxious to feel him inside me again. I glanced back at him, my wet hair matted to the side of my face as he entered me from behind. His cock felt so good I couldn’t help grinding my ass back to meet his initial thrusts.“Mel, PUKE FOR ME,” he yelled as he rammed his cock deep into my hungry cunt.“Oh Mike, no…not here,” I begged breathlessly relishing the full feeling of his cock.WHACK “AAAAAHHH,” I cried out as his hand crashed against my ass. SMACK – SMACK – SMACK “AAAHHH, PLEASE NO…STOP OOOOOHHH,” I screamed, my heavy ass cheeks burning. “DO IT,” he demanded as he gripped the soft flesh of my hips as he rammed his cock into me savagely.Overwhelmed with lust and humiliation I bucked my stinging ass back to meet his thrusts. With urine spraying off my flopping tits onto my face I stared down at my hands gripping the wet plastic. I knew what I had to do, what I needed so desperately.Craving relief I brought my pee drenched hand to my mouth and jammed it to the back of my throat causing me to heave and cough as I pulled my hand out of my throat. The bitter sweet taste of my piss only seemed to excite me more and again I pushed my fingers deep into my throat. My whole body lurched and then heaved as vomit launched onto the plastic beneath me. As I continued to heave my cunt suddenly clenched, my whole body convulsing in release.Mike was beside himself fucking my hot, tingling pussy excitedly as I gazed through my tears at the horrible mess beneath me. Gasping for breath I tried to turn away, but suddenly he drove his weight forward forcing my arms to give way and I fell face first into the soupy pool of vomit and urine.He lay over me mashing my tits into the hot bile, chunks of undigested food biting into my nipples. Shutting my eyes I gripped handfuls of vomit and plastic in my fists, my chin plunged up to my lips in the wretched mixture. The stench burned into my nostrils as I struggled for breath, my body helplessly sliding around in the gooey slime, as his cock drove into me like a jackhammer. Thrashing my legs wildly my cunt suddenly convulsed again Spasms ignited deep in my hole and then exploded throughout my belly. “AAAHHH,” I moaned, my cry sticking inaudibly in my raw throat.My pussy grabbed and squeezed at Mike’s swelling cock and I could feel it throb in my hole ready to shoot. “OOOH SHIT,” he grunted and then his orgasm erupted blasting jets of hot cum into my clenching hole.When he was spent he rolled off of me onto his back. I turned towards him laying my head on his chest. For a few moments we laid there recovering, our bodies intertwined as we lay like pigs in the mire.Slowly he combed his dirty fingers through my disheveled matted hair prompting me to open my eyes and look at him. His expression seemed distressed, one of agonizing guilt or remorse. Without a word I leaned forward and kissed him. “It’s ok,” I whispered.“I love you Mel,” he whimpered.“I know,” I assured him.Pulling a few strands of dripping smelly hair behind my ear I leaned forward slowly. Our lips met and then parted as we gazed into each other’s eyes. I brought my lips to his once more. We kissed tenderly our tongues and lips hungrily consuming the residue of our love.

Another year, another Wimbledon, another semi-final … another match point. Tina had heard it said that history repeats itself, but…

One evening I chatted with a man online who expressed interest in a real meeting. He sent me a pic…

Another year, another Wimbledon, another semi-final … another match point. Tina had heard it said that history repeats itself, but this was surely pushing it. How could she have been so stupid…? She knew exactly how, of course. Ever since that fateful day this time last year, women’s tennis had changed beyond recognition. The photos in the next day’s papers had won her immediate condemnation from a bunch of people she did not care about, while also earning immediate super-celebrity status as one of the world’s leading sex symbols. The fact that she had ended up losing the match made no difference at all. The job offers came rolling in, though she politely declined all requests that she pose nude for men’s magazines, and her bank balance grew and grew…This fact was not lost on her fellow tennis starlets. At last year’s US Open, a succession of tiny microskirts made their way out on to the courts, and soon Tina found herself facing stiff competition. One girl, in particular, seemed to have hardly any inhibitions at all – her name was Laura Lessing and she had won the hearts and loins of millions of male admirers across the globe. She had first made news by wearing bright red French-cut panties under her short skirt, and though she received reprimands from numerous umpires she continued to wear similar underwear in tournament after tournament. Her skirts were generally not excessively minuscule, but they were made of such a light material that they flew up around her waist at the slightest breeze, and she was not quick to cover her modesty. She obviously adored the limelight.As did Tina, who found herself driven to further exhibitionistic acts on the court just so she could keep herself in the media spotlight. In the French Open, she had worn a skirt that only barely covered her buttocks, with lacy panties beneath. The skirt was made of a stiff material that would neither fly up nor ride up, but whenever she bent over she knew she was showing her panties to the crowds and the cameras.Her fan sites doubled in number, then trebled. Fan mail poured in, as did the contracts, and she carefully ignored the vicious backlash from conservative groups. The people she had intended to thrill were thrilled.For this year’s Wimbledon, she had prepared well. The stretchy skirt idea had been a good one, but it had been flawed. Now, however, she had ironed out the problems. A skirt had been designed and made for her specially – one that would ride up as she moved, but not too quickly. Unlike her night-club skirt of the previous year, this one would not end up around her waist. Indeed, even after the longest, most vigorous points, it would uncover no more than a centimetre of the lower curves of her buttocks. Thus she could be sexy, but safe in the knowledge that she was in control.The dress code for this Wimbledon had been re-written. With new money pouring into the game, big name sponsors had put pressure on the rules committee to allow the female players a little flexibility. In short, the players could wear skirts of any length as long as they covered the buttocks while the player was at rest and standing straight, and the underwear rules had been relaxed to permit any kind of underwear except thongs and g-strings. There had been fierce opposition to these changes, and a few resignations had occurred. But the changes had stuck.So, on the first day of the Wimbledon fortnight, Tina had strode on to the court wearing a semi-stretchy white miniskirt that covered her buttocks with almost an inch to spare, with a pair of pale blue French-cut panties underneath. The outfit had gone down a storm. Every day for the last week and a half, she had graced several pages of each and every tabloid in the country. She practically received a standing ovation every time she walked out on to the court.And today she faced Laura Lessing. Laura had received a similarly rapturous welcome on her first day, as she appeared on court wearing not only her trademark ‘flying’ skirt, but also a tight tank top through which the outline of her bra was clearly visible. The tabloids contained nearly as many photos of Laura as they did of Tina. In fact, over the last couple of days Tina had been incensed to discover herself almost marginalised by full-page spreads of Laura’s latest gimmick – a pair of French-cut panties that had been judiciously altered to turn them almost, but not quite, into a thong. And the committee did not object! This angered Tina. Laura was flouting the new rules and getting away with it!So last night, Tina had decided she was not going to be outdone in her own match. She had summoned her tailor (she never went anywhere without him these days), and given him the job of ‘editing’ her own panties. She showed him the picture of Laura’s bottom adorning the front page of The Quasar. “I want you to make mine even skimpier than that,” she said, “while still not being a thong.”Gerard’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “That … will be tricky,” he remarked. “But I’ll give it a try.”And so he had. The following morning, Tina was impressed with the result.“That will surely slip between my buttocks,” she observed critically.“It will, after a short while,” agreed Gerard. “But it’s not a thong – not quite. And I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of pulling it out of your arse every few points in front of the cameras.”Tina considered this, and a smile came to her lips. “Yes…” she said.“That will be fun.”But Martin, her manager, was outraged when he saw the garment. “You cannot wear that!” he exclaimed. “It’s hardly any bigger than the thong you wore last year! And just remember – you almost got banned from Wimbledon on account of that little stunt.”“It wasn’t a stunt!” objected Tina. “But that’s academic anyway. They’ve relaxed the rules since then, as well you know.”“But there are still rules,” Martin insisted. “And one of them is that thongs aren’t allowed.”“This isn’t a thong,” said Tina.“It virtually is. And when it’s bunched up between your butt cheeks, who’s going to know the difference?”“Who indeed?” Tina smiled wryly. “But I can easily prove to them that it isn’t.”Martin frowned, then turned on his heel and walked away.“He’ll get over it,” Gerard told her. “Now, about this top…”“Oh yes! Do you have it?”“It’s in your bag,” said the tailor. “Check it out – I think you’ll like it.”Tina hurried through to her room and placed the almost-thong on her bed next to her equipment bag. Opening the bag, she smiled as she spotted a white cut-off t-shirt folded neatly on the top. She smiled to herself.This was her latest gambit – exposure of the midriff. She pulled it out and held it up, giggling naughtily. Then she pulled out the miniskirt and sighed happily as she imagined the whole combination. This was going to be a good day. Finally she went through the rest of the equipment in the bag, making sure it was all present. She was not going to make the same mistake she had made this time last year!Placing her racquets in the bag first, she re-packed everything, leaving her clothing until last. She hesitated for a moment, then resisted the temptation to try the clothes on before packing them, too. She laid the panties and the skirt side by side on top of her track suit, then placed the t-shirt on top.“Tina?”She turned around at the sound of her manager’s voice. “Yes Martin?”“Waldo’s here – he wants to talk to you about tonight’s do.”Tina frowned. “Couldn’t he have phoned?”“He was in the hotel,” explained Martin. “Thought he’d ‘just drop by’ or something.”“Okay, I’m coming.” Tina stood up and went out to meet her agent.Waldo was a tall man with a thick crop of wild grey hair that always looked as if he’d been out in a strong wind. He had a habit of finishing every other sentence with “don’t you know” and his eyebrows bobbed up and down as he talked. Tina found him rather intimidating, but he was the best agent she’d had.“Ahem, well Tina, good morning and how do you do,” he pronounced sternly.“I’ve been chewing the old fat with the blokes at the press office and they happened to bring up the subject of interviews, don’t you know. So I thought to myself, as I am wont to do, ‘now here if I am not greatly mistaken is an opportunity old boy’ and …”Tina only half-listened, fascinated by his eyebrows, as Waldo trundled on through a terribly one-sided conversation at the end of which he paused, awaiting her response. She shook herself. “Ah, whatever you think is best, Waldo,” she said. “I trust your judgment.”“Most gratifying I am sure, well I’ll be tootling off now if you’ll pardon my flying visit – oh and I have another advertising contract I need to discuss with you, but it can wait until tonight, what? Or even tomorrow don’t you know. Toodle-pip.” And with that he swept out of the room.“We should be leaving,” said Martin, coming back into the room. “Are you ready?”“Sure,” said Tina. “Let me grab my bag.”She walked back into her bedroom and reached down to zip up her bag. Then she stopped. Something was not quite right. Her eyes narrowing, she slid her hand down the side of the bag and pulled out a white object that she had just glimpsed the corner of. It was a pair of conservative white panties.Annoyed, she flung them on to the floor. “Thought you’d try to convince me of the error of my ways, did you Martin?” she muttered.She said nothing to Martin as they left the hotel, and only in the car did she finally break her silence. “Honestly Martin,” she reprimanded him.“Sometimes you act just like my mother.”“Huh?” Martin looked puzzled.“The panties?”“Oh.” Martin flushed and responded defensively, “Well I’m sorry, but there are limits, you know.”“Just forget it,” said Tina.In the Centre Court changing rooms she met up with her arch-rival, and today’s opponent, Laura Lessing. “Hi,” said Tina rather coldly.“Hi Tina!” Laura gushed. “Wow, I’m so happy to be playing against you at last! You are my absolute hero, you know.”Tina was utterly disarmed, and found herself rather flustered. “Well, I…” she began. “Thank you! That’s nice of you to say so.”“I think it’s great what you’ve done for women’s tennis,” continued Laura.“You’ve possibly seen my, um … tributes … to your groundbreaking stunt last year…”“It wasn’t…” Tina began, before changing her mind. “Well, I guess I always figured you were trying to outdo me,” she said. “You must admit you’ve become rather popular yourself…”“I know!” Laura’s eyes were like saucers, as if she could barely comprehend the idea. “Isn’t it amazing? I mean, I’m nowhere near as pretty as you – I’m just overwhelmed at the attention I’ve got.”Tina chuckled. “Have you ever thought of, you know, toning it down a little?”Laura looked surprised. “Why, no,” she said. “Have you?” But she did not wait for a response before continuing in a conspiratorial whisper, “I just love to go a little further each time, you see. I know sooner or later I’ll get into trouble, but isn’t it amazing what they’ll let you get away with this year?”“Yes, it is,” agreed Tina. She sighed and began to undress. “Guess we’d better get into our skimpy outfits then.”Laura giggled. “Ooh yes,” she said.Tina pulled her t-shirt and skirt out of her bag, then stared into her bag in horror. Her heart plummeted into her shoes. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed.“What is it?” asked Laura in alarm.“My panties! They’re not here!”“What? Are you sure?”Tina suddenly realised with a shock that Martin had not only placed a conservative pair of panties in her bag, he had removed the other pair at the same time! “I don’t believe it!” she said. “My manager’s taken them out!”“Can’t you wear what you’re wearing now?” inquired Laura. “As I understand it, that’s what you did last year.”“I’m not wearing underwear,” hissed Tina sharply.“Ah,” said Laura. “Oops.”“Hey, are you wearing panties?” asked Tina on a sudden thought.“Yes but…”“Great! Can I wear them?”“No! I’m wearing the ones I’ll be wearing on the court!”“Oh.” Tina was crestfallen. “Good grief, what a fix.”“What skirt have you got?” inquired Laura.Tina showed her.Laura nodded. “Ah yes, I know that one. It doesn’t ride up much, does it?”“Not much,” conceded Tina. “But enough, probably.”“Maybe not, if you’re careful. And won’t it be awesome? Think of it – the first woman to play tennis at a Grand Slam tournament without panties!” Tina groaned. “I suppose it’s possible I might get away with it,” she said. “But I’ll be giving you the advantage.”Laura waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense,” she said airily. “You’re the better player – you’ll have no problems.”Tina stared at Laura, perplexed. “What kind of pep-talk do you give yourself?” she inquired. “Are you expecting to lose?”“I don’t mind.” Laura shrugged. “I’m just out to play my best and have a good time. I don’t have any illusions.”Tina shook her head in great puzzlement, then sighed as she considered her position. Eventually she decided to bite the bullet, and changed into her miniskirt, sports bra and cut-off t-shirt. The latter item caught her by surprise – it was far tighter than she had imagined.Laura whistled. “Wow, sexy!” Tina chuckled. The top really was tight – it clung to every curve of her breasts and the bra beneath made highly visible ridges in its fabric. She decided she rather liked the effect.But then she noticed what Laura was wearing. She gasped. “Oh my goodness!” Laura had really pulled out all the stops, knowing she was up against the woman who had started the whole revolution in women’s tennis wear. Her light skirt had been drastically reduced in length – it barely covered her buttocks – and she was wearing a tight lycra crop-top that made Tina’s t-shirt seem almost conservative. “How do I look?” she asked.“You look … naked!” exclaimed Tina.Laura giggled. “Why thank you!” she said.The two girls donned their track suits and walked out to meet the crowd, to whistles and cheers and great applause. They lapped it up. Then Martin arrived.“Where have you been?” Tina hissed.“Getting a drink,” he said. “What’s up?”“What’s up??” Tina fought to control her anger. “Martin you idiot, I didn’t realise you’d taken my panties out of my bag!”“Huh?”“Those ones you put in there – I threw them away! Now I have nothing!” Martin gasped in shock. “Oh … my … God,” he managed at last.“Tell me about it. Now do you think you can go and get me some?”“Well, I’ll try,” he said, “but you know what the traffic’s like. Remember the last time?”“You don’t need to go all the way back to the hotel,” she told him. “Just find a clothes shop.”Martin nodded. “Okay,” he said, and hurried off.The sky was overcast as the two girls took off their track suits to rapturous applause. Cameras snapped in their hundreds. Tina had stomach butterflies as she began her warm up with a few serves from the right-hand side of the court. But her skirt stayed put (pretty much), and she made sure its hem stayed well below her buttocks. The breeze on her naked pussy made her feel terribly uneasy, but she forced herself not to think about it, and tried to concentrate on serving well.Meanwhile, Laura was getting all the attention. She was leaping high in every serve, her skirt flying up to reveal a pair of white silk panties that were almost as small as the ones Tina had been planning to wear. And they looked as if they were several sizes too small. Already the material at the back was creeping between her buttocks, and she made no attempt to rectify the situation. And she took her time about bending over (with straight legs) to pick up balls from the grass.Tina was a little relieved not to have all the cameras scrutinising her, but also rather annoyed that the crowd was watching Laura and not her.Nevertheless, she did not dare to let her skirt ride any higher than it was doing already, so she forced herself to ignore her opponent’s exhibitionistic antics and the crowd’s response.The match began. As expected, Tina’s skirt did not ride up much, and she began to relax a little. She was careful not to allow any point to go on for too long (sometimes this meant giving Laura the occasional point, but she could afford them), and gradually she began to feel that she was, after all, in control. After four games, the score was 3:1, and Tina was about to serve in the fifth when it began to rain.It was just a light drizzle, but after only a couple of points the grass was beginning to get slippery, and after a meaningful glance from Tina, the umpire ordered the covers to be brought out. Tina was relieved – it would buy her some time before Martin got back.But the covers were not on for long. Five minutes later the rain had ceased, and the players were cleared to resume the game. This they did, but this time Laura had the advantage. The damp grass caused them both to slip on several occasions, but whereas Laura took this in her stride, relishing the opportunity to flash her panties yet again, Tina could not afford to let her skirt ride up at all. So she played it safe, taking only small steps, while Laura capitalised on the opportunity to break serve for the first time.The drizzle began again in the next game, but stopped after only a couple of minutes. Tina was by now getting rather frustrated. She lost to Laura’s serve, then lost her own serve after that. Things were not going well. On the positive side, the rain was causing her t-shirt to cling even tighter to her chest, and the material was even easier to see through now that it was damp.Laura could not help but notice this as she came all the way up to the net to slam home a winning cross-court volley. She realised that her own crop top was not the type of garment to turn transparent in the rain, and she wished she had thought to wear a thin t-shirt like Tina’s. But perhaps there was something else she could do…At the beginning of the ninth game, with the score at 5:3 (to Laura), Tina bounced a ball in front of her, glancing occasionally at her opponent. She watched as Laura hopped from one foot to the other, bouncing on the spot, and then frowned. Laura seemed a little more … bouncy? than usual.And then she realised the startling truth: that her opponent had taken off her bra! Laura’s crop top was now bouncing under the influence of a pair of decidedly unfettered breasts (and Laura’s chest was fairly large for a tennis player).“Two can play at that game,” thought Tina to herself, and she clenched her teeth in a new resolve.Determined to pull herself back into the match, Tina began to take a few more risks. She managed to win her serve, but then had a nasty fright in Laura’s service game. While running at full-stretch to intercept an attempted pass, she slipped and abruptly did the splits (almost) on the damp grass. She squealed in horror and immediately closed her legs, pulling her skirt down to cover her neatly-trimmed pubic hair.There were one or two puzzled stares from the crowd, but the glimpse had been too brief for them to be sure about what they had seen. Tina could almost hear their comments: “Did you just see what I saw? Well, I’m not sure… it looked like she’s not wearing panties… Of course, I could be wrong…”She got to her feet, somewhat rattled, and returned to the baseline. The next couple of points went badly, and soon she found herself facing the wrong end of a set point. Biting her lip in anxiety, she was almost wrong-footed as the ball came hurtling down the court to her right-hand side. She launched herself towards it.Her foot slipped, and shot backwards. She sank to the floor as the ball whipped past her unmet. Her skirt had ridden up again and she hastily pulled it down as she got to her feet. Again, the whispers…“Game and first set to Miss Lessing,” announced the umpire.Tina sighed unhappily and prepared to serve. The lack of a bra certainly had not severely handicapped her opponent’s game. In fact, she seemed to have acquired a new confidence and was making very few errors. Still, her serve was not strong and could be beaten.By serving well, and taking some judicious risks, Tina succeeded in winning her service game. Smiling to herself as she sat down, she decided to up the stakes in the battle for the press’s attention. As surreptitiously as she could, she unclasped her bra and slipped it off, pulling it out through the left arm-hole of her t-shirt and dropping it into her bag. Immediately the damp t-shirt clung to her bare breasts, and with an involuntary shiver she realised she could just make out her nipples through the thin material. She was sure that the press cameras would also be able to see them.Without bra or panties, she walked out on to the court in just a cut-off t-shirt and a microskirt. Feeling naked and vulnerable but also rather aroused, she winked at Laura before her opponent served. The sensation of playing with no restraints on her breasts, however, was too unfamiliar and her return went wide. Laura’s next serve she pounded back into the net.Cursing to herself, she prepared to try again. She was annoyed with herself for having so much difficulty playing without a bra, when Laura seemed to be managing just fine.‘She probably practices without a bra all the time,’ she thought to herself suddenly. ‘Oh heck, what have I let myself in for?’ She lost that game, and then her own service game. Now 2:1 down, she watched as Laura prepared to serve once again. Her nineteen-year-old opponent’s crop top seemed a little skimpier somehow, and Tina frowned.What had the dratted girl done now? A brief rendezvous at the net in the next point answered her question.Laura had folded over part of her top, so that not only was it now more revealing, but it was also serving to keep her breasts in place more effectively. This was a clever plan, but it was risky – too much bouncing and Laura’s breasts would pop out from underneath the crop top. No doubt that added to the girl’s thrill.The drizzle began again, but not before Tina had broken serve, and then held on to her own serve, to bring the score to 3:2. As the two girls sat down in their respective places, the umpire leaned over to speak to Tina.“Miss Hathaway?” he said.Tina looked up guiltily. She folded her arms across her chest, convinced he was going to reprimand her for removing her bra. But she was mistaken.“How’s the court?” he asked. “I’m considering abandoning play, but it’s up to you two. Miss Lessing is happy to continue, so it’s your decision.”Tina thought for a moment. Martin was not back yet, but he surely would be soon. And she was beginning to play better now. Finally she was back in the lead, and she was becoming confident she could stay ahead until the end of this set. Furthermore, she was enjoying the way the drizzle was making her t-shirt more see-through every minute. “I’m okay for the moment,” she said. “It’s not that bad out there.”“Very well,” said the umpire, nodding.Tina took a swig from her water bottle, then got up and returned to the court.Two lost games later, she was regretting her decision. The drizzle had stopped, but the ground was still rather wet and slippery. She no longer felt she had an excuse for requesting that play be abandoned, and her t-shirt was not getting any more transparent. Facing what could possibly be her penultimate game of this tournament, she decided to go all out in her efforts to win the publicity battle. If she could not win the match, at least she could still steal the next day’s headlines from that upstart Laura.Carefully and deliberately, she poured the remaining contents of her water bottle over her chest, making sure she covered both breasts equally. The material quickly turned almost completely transparent, and despite herself she gasped at the sight of her breasts staring back at her. The wet t-shirt clung tightly to every contour and concealed nothing.Holding her head high (while trying not to meet anyone’s gaze), she marched out on to the court once again. Laura did the same, but then her jaw dropped as she saw Tina’s transformation. Tina saw her giggle and then hold up a thumb in admiring support.“Miss Hathaway…” came the umpire’s voice over the loudspeaker.Tina trotted over to speak to him.The umpire leaned over and said, “Enough is enough, Miss Hathaway. This is not a wet t-shirt contest, it is a tennis match. The new rules regarding the dress code are there to encourage freedom of expression, not indecent behaviour. Do you have another shirt?”“I’m afraid not,” confessed Tina.The umpire sighed. “And where is your bra?”“It broke,” Tina lied.“All right, but one more lewd act on your part and I will disqualify you and ban you from the tournament. The whole tone of this event has dropped through the floor, and I’m damned if I’m going to take it any more.”Tina nodded. “I understand.” Rather subdued, she returned to the court.The game went badly. Tina found her t-shirt highly distracting, and with every bounce it rode higher and higher and threatened to expose her breasts to the world. Soon it was revealing as much flesh as Laura’s crop top.Nevertheless, she liked the effect and did not attempt to replace it, until she heard a warning cough from the umpire. She hastily pulled it down.She lost that game, and prepared to serve to stay in the match. She served well, but a good return surprised her and she failed to clear the net with her follow-up shot. Then she noticed that her vigorous serve had resulted in her t-shirt being hoisted up high on her chest. Only a half-inch of material extended below the lower curve of her breasts. Rather reluctantly, she pulled the t-shirt down.The next few serves had similar effects, but a longer point almost resulted in her breasts popping free of the t-shirt entirely. She won two points, but also lost two.So now she was at match point, again, and this time her predicament was even worse. What could she do? If she preserved her modesty and lost, was that any better than going all out and perhaps being banned from the rest of the tournament? Probably not.She served, and at once felt her t-shirt climb up again. But she ignored it and concentrated on trying to predict where Laura’s return would end up.It was short – that was good. Tina raced forward and whipped the ball over to the far corner. But Laura, realising the danger, was already almost there. She hammered it back down the line, and Tina had to lunge to reach it. She made it, just, and the ball bounced high off her racquet – a mis-hit.Laura was quick to take advantage, her chest bouncing as she ran around the back of the ball. She attempted to fire it down the right-hand line, but Tina caught it at the net with a drop volley. However, it bounced harder off her racquet than she had intended, leaving Laura with an easy opportunity for a lob. Tina raced backwards, only to find to her horror that Laura was not going for the lob at all. She was responding with a drop shot of her own.Tina sprinted forwards, just reaching the ball in time. But as she dug her feet in to brake herself, they slid on the wet grass, shooting right under the net. Tina yelped as she fell to the ground and slid forwards on her back. Her skirt, caught by the net as she passed beneath it, was yanked up to her waist. Her t-shirt was pulled up by sheer friction, both on the ground and on the bottom of the net, until it was wrapped around her neck.At this point Tina came to an abrupt halt, with her head on one side of the net and her rather unclothed body on the other.The crowd fell into a stunned silence, then erupted in a cacophony of wolf-whistles, cheers and thunderous applause. The umpire’s announcement of “Game, set and match to Miss Lessing” went completely unheard. Laura, meanwhile, walked over to where Tina was lying with her pussy and breasts fully exposed to the crowd and to the world’s photographers. She looked down at Tina and smiled.“You win,” she said.THE END

Rebecca and I had always felt a connection between us. We both did well at school and achieved good grades…