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Young man and mature woman, always a good combination.

Wednesday, October 18th, 2017

Young man and mature woman, always a good combination.

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    BALLING ON THE COURT

    Saturday, November 28th, 2015

    sexy tight white skirt

    Alan is five-foot-ten with a lean athletic body. Without making obvious efforts to do so, he manage5 to maintain a youthful appearance that belies his fifty-one years. His silver hair is carefully styled to cover an expanding bald spot. His green eyes sparkle in a face that is tanned by frequent outdoor activities. Although he holds a Ph.D. in chemistry, Alan works as sales manager for a major pharmaceutical company. He says that the best sex he ever had happened on a tennis court with a woman half his age.

    Barbara and I were married for more than twenty years. Our sex was okay, but never really great. I didn’t mind, because I always had a girl or two on the side. In retrospect, I realize that I was a terrible husband. At some level, my wife always knew I was fooling around with other women, but she closed her eyes to it. Sex was never that important to her, anyway. She was more interested in our affluent lifestyle.

    Everything changed when I got involved with Diane. She’s not much more than half my age, but she’s absolutely the most exciting creature I ever met. When I started going out with her, it was just for sex, as with all the women I dated. Before I knew it, I was head over heels in love with her, or maybe just obsessed with her. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did. Once I started seeing her, I didn’t want any other women. That’s what broke up my marriage. As long as my affairs were casual, Barbara never mentioned them. When she found out about Diane, though, she refused to tolerate it. I’m sure Diane’s age was a problem for Barbara, but what bothered her most was the fact that I wasn’t going out with anyone else. That made my relationship with Diane serious. That’s when Barbara filed for divorce. Except for a few financial problems, I didn’t mind the divorce at all. It gave me more time for Diane.

    I think what makes Diane so sexy is that she’s completely uninhibited. When I’m out with her, I never know where or when we’re going to end up doing it. She doesn’t plan ·it. She just has such a spontaneous nature that she is willing to take advantage of whatever situation arises. I love the adventures that we have together. We’ve had sex at the most unusual times and places you can imagine. I guess the best time of all was one night on the tennis court. Actually, tennis has been a kind of background for our entire relationship. The first time I saw her was at the tennis club. I go there a couple of times a week with some guys from work. We’ve been playing doubles together for years. I like tennis because it helps me stay fit, but also because I’m a bit of a dirty old man.

    I love watching the women in their short skirts, especially when they bend over to pick up the balls. Women’s underwear has always had an especially arousing effect on me. I think that’s probably true of most men my age. As we were growing up, there wasn’t any Playboy or Penthouse magazine with pictures of naked women. The best we could do was the Sunday supplement with its ads for bras and panties. I remember looking at those models posed primly in their cotton briefs and jerking off till my elbows were sore. To this day, I get stirred up by the slightest glimpse of a woman’s undies. I realize, of course, that the briefs women wear under their tennis skirts aren’t really underwear at all. They’re just like running shorts, only briefer. In fact, they wear panties underneath them. Nevertheless, when a woman bends over and her skirt rises up to reveal those little tennis bloomers, I can’t help getting aroused. Sometimes I am so distracted that I’m lucky I don’t get hit in the eye with a ball. My tennis buddies all kid me about it, but that doesn’t stop me.

    One afternoon, we were playing when Diane caught my eye. She was serving the ball on the next court, poised on her toes with her arms held high, causing the hem of her skirt to rise dangerously. Only a blind man would have failed to notice her. She was about five-foot-three and wore her dark brown hair long and fl.owing. She had a tight little body, with pointy tits and the sweetest ass I ever saw. Her muscular legs were perfectly proportioned, all shapely curves even in her flat bottomed tennis shoes.

    Her outfit was the standard white, but her skirt was shorter than usual. She must have had it taken up deliberately. I found myself staring openly, waiting for her to bend down so I could steal a peek at what she had on underneath. When it happened, my mouth dropped open. She wasn’t wearing regulation tennis briefs. She had panties on, skimpy white lace panties. They were cut so high that they barely covered her in front and left most of her ass cheeks exposed. When my friends saw what I was looking at, our game came to a temporary halt. For once, they joined me in staring rather than ribbing me about it. Silently, we watched her play. When she bent over, one of the other guys groaned. She must have heard him but acted as if she didn’t. It was obvious that she enjoyed putting on a show.

    After that, we hit the ball around a bit longer, but none of us was interested in keeping score. When she left the court, there didn’t seem to be much point in our staying, so our game ended early. The other guys wanted to stand around and talk about her and her sexy costume, but I had more important things to do. I knew I had to meet her. I showered and dressed in record time so that I could be waiting for her when she came out of the women’s locker room. As soon as she did, I went into action. Falling into step beside her, I said, “You know, I don’t think we’ve ever met before, and I’d like to introduce myself.”

    She smiled. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to get around to me,” she said matter-of-factly. “Sure I’ll have a drink with you.” “I don’t remember asking,” I said, liking her at once. “My memory must be slipping.” “Yes,” she said, her blue eyes flashing. “I have that effect on lots of men.” We rode in my car to a cocktail lounge near the tennis club and spent a couple of hours there getting to know each other. Diane was twenty-seven and an art dealer with a small but expensive uptown gallery. Right up front I told her I was married, but she just laughed. She said that made me safe and she liked that. We arranged to have dinner together the next night.

    When I arrived at her apartment to pick her up, she was dressed and ready, but she invited me in for a drink. As she poured, I looked around her living room. Everything· was expensive. The paintings on the walls all had erotic themes. In one of them, a nude woman was looking in a mirror while caressing her own breasts. Her pose and the expression she was wearing captured my attention. I found myself becoming mildly aroused as I studied it.

    “Do you like that one?” Diane asked, handing me a glass. “Yes,” I said. “It’s very erotic.” “I agree,” she answered softly. “It’s one of my favorites. Every time I look at it, I get turned on.”

    “I’m glad to hear you say that,” I admitted. “Because it has that effect on me, too. I wasn’t sure that was a legitimate response to art.” “Of course it’s legitimate,” she answered. “Did that painting give you an erection?” I ·was a little startled by her directness but not the least displeased. “Yes, I guess it did,” I confessed. “Let me see,” she .said, stepping in front of me and patting the crotch of my pants with the palm of her hand. My penis twitched against her. Swiftly, she pulled down.my zipper and extracted my swelling organ. I was taken completely by surprise.

    She clawed at me, pulling off my clothes and filling her hands with my sexual hardware. Within seconds, she was on her back on the floor with her skirt up and her legs apart, tugging me down on top of her. Without any foreplay, I was in her. I thrust only eight or nine times before I started to come. Her cries began just as mine were subsiding. Afterward, as we rearranged our clothing, I said, “Wow, that was a nice surprise. Most women prefer to do it after dinner.” “Maybe we’ll do it after dinner, too,” she answered. “That depends on how we feel then. But I felt like doing it now.” “Do you always do it whenever you feel like it?” I ask~d. ”I believe in taking advantage of the moment,” she replied. “Carpe diem! Seize the day.”

    In the months that have followed, I found out that she actually lives that philosophy. We have sex at the drop of a hat, any time and any place that the mood strikes her. When we are in bed in her apartment, it might go on for hours. But · when we grab a surprise quickie in some unanticipated situation, the two of us can come and be dressed again within seconds. She never ceases to astound me. That’s probably what makes her so attractive to me. At my age, everything had started to take on the aspect of a routine. Diane has changed all that. With her, nothing is predictable. Sometimes she’ll act in a way which is totally conventional, and a moment later she’ll do something totally unexpected.

    I’d say she’s like a child, except that when it comes to making love, she’s all woman. The result is that since I met Diane, I just don’t have a need for other wo me anymore. I think the best sex we ever had was on the tennis court. We were both working late and had. agreed to meet at the tennis club at nine for a quick game. The club keeps the lights on until ten, so that would give us an hour to play. Lots of other people had the same idea, because when we started, every court was in use. After warming up for a few minutes, we volleyed for the serve. Every now and then I deliberately hit the ball into the fence so that she’d have to bend down to pick it up. By now I knew that Diane always wore lacy panties when playing tennis. That gave the game a whole new dimension for me. Instead of putting my imagination to work on those white nylon bloomers that women usually wear on the court, I got to watch Diane show me her lingerie.

    Fifteen minutes into the game, I was so turned on that I thought I might trip over my hard-on while chasing the balls. Each time Diane stood up after bending over, she looked at me and said something like, “Did you like that?” Once she even kicked the ball against the net so that when she picked it up I could have a close-up view· of her scantily covered bottom. I was just about to serve the ball when everything went dark. Frustrated grumbles could be heard from the other courts, where players were complaining about the interruption of their games. There wasn’t a light to be seen, not even in the clubhouse. A voice shouted, “Power failure, folks. Just stay where you are. We’ll have the lights on again in a few moments.”

    I walked toward the net, cautious until my eyes slowly became accustomed to the dark. When they did, I saw Diane facing me from her side of the net and wearing an impish grin. She was holding her skirt up above her waist. Her panties lay on the court surface next to her. She had removed them in the dark and was showing me her nakedness. I knew it was an invitation. I vaulted the net and put my arms around her. Diane fumbled with the waistband of my shorts, stripping them from me and casting them, with my underwear, into a pile beside her panties. Lifting her skirt again, she began rubbing the hair of her pubis against my swollen erection. “Hey,” I said. “The lights can go on again at any minute. And we’re not the only people here.” Diane lifted herself up to wrap her legs around my waist. “Then we’d better be quick,” she murmured, lowering herself to take me inside her.

    When she began a rhythmic rolling motion with her pelvis, I stopped worrying about the lights and let my dick do the thinking. Her soft wetness enveloped me completely. At that moment, it was all that mattered. I cupped her naked buttocks in my hands to move her up and down the length of my erection. At first, the spontaneity of our union excited me the way it usually does when Diane’s lack of inhibition takes me by surprise. As I drove in and out of her, though, I realized that there was something extra special about this time. If the lights went on, we would be on display. The possibility inflamed us both.

    She was whispering ferocious obscenities in my ear, whipping me up to a sexual frenzy. I thrust hard and deep against her, plunging into the whirlpool of her sex. We were racing to a swift climax, caught up in the moment and not caring about the time. “Come in me,” she commanded. “Come in me now!” Her words sent me spinning into space, and I began spewing immediately. When I started pumping, her orgasm struck. Her thighs pressed tight against me, her contractions matching mine. Together we spiraled, seized violently by a tornado of passion. Within seconds, we reached its summit and began the floating descent that returned us to the world.

    As our mutual climax wound down, Diane’s legs released their grip on my hips. We stood in fevered embrace, her arms still around my neck and my hands still clutching her ass. Our tongues were clashing in afterplay kisses when the lights suddenly went on. I was aware of it at once, even though my eyes were closed. Realizing that I was bare assed, I tried to break the clinch, but Diane held on to me a moment longer. Sure that all the other tennis players were looking at us, I kept my eyes shut so I wouldn’t have to face them. When Diane’s arms relaxed, loosening their grasp, I stepped back against the net. I glanced quickly around, but everyone else on the courts seemed to be studiously looking elsewhere. Trying to use Diane as a shield, I hurried into my togs, thrusting her discarded panties into my pocket.

    I couldn’t wait to get off the court and away from the embarrassing situation. Once we were in the car, though, we laughed about it. I recalled the excitement much more than the embarrassment. Diane said she was proud of me, that I had more guts than a kid of twenty. Nobody at the tennis club ever mentioned the incident, so I’ll never know for sure whether anybody saw us or not. To tell you the truth, I don’t really care. Life is for living, and it doesn’t pay to worry about what other people think. To hell with them. Leisurely lovemaking, the kind that goes on all night and builds slowly to a poetic climax, is wonderful. But great experiences don’t all have to be like that. They can take place in a fleeting instant .. Even though it happened in a flash, Diane’s spontaneity made that minute on the tennis court the best sex I ever had.

    I’m still seeing Diane. We might even get married someday. If we feel like it, that . is, and if the moment’s right. In the meantime, I’ve adopted her philosophy: Carpe diem!

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