Racquetball Dyke by loyalsock


Racquetball Dyke by loyalsockFrom as early as my p*****n years, it was obvious that sports and I didnot get along. I was either too slow or not coordinated enough. Teamafter team would either cut me, or only allow me to play the minimumamount of time that was required. When teams were picked in gym class,I was almost always chosen last. My uncle observed my frustration, andtook it upon himself to help. He was concern about the long-term effect ofmy low self-esteem, so he introduced me to the world of racquetball.When my Uncle was younger he played on his college team, and had wonseveral tournaments. Today his bookshelves are lined with trophies hasproof of his accomplishments. But it wasn’t his trophies that made himspecial to me, it was his ears. When I was just a little girl, I learned that hecould wiggle his ears, and ever since then he has been my favorite Uncle,and I was honored that he wanted to share his time with me. So with onlya few exceptions-we played racquetball three times a week for almost 6years.I started off slow, learning the rules and just trying to enjoy myself. It wasseveral months before I was even able to return the ball with anyregularity. But I was still too slow. I can remember my Uncle saying,”Don’t worry about speed, that will come with time. Just be deliberate inyour moves. Remember, its better to take one slow step in the rightdirection then to take a fast one in the wrong direction”. Although Idoubted his words at the time, I later found them to be true.Years past and I got better, good enough to enter local tournaments,capturing a few trophies of my own. During the summer of my senioryear, before going to college, I was good enough to beat my uncle about50% of the times. I was so proud of myself. Although this was a bigaccomplishment for me, I needed to remind myself that I was an 18-year-old girl in her physical prime, playing against a 53-year-old man. But itreally wasn’t about winning or loosing, it was about life. Not only had Ilearn to focus my mind, but I had grown strong and fast, and mostimportantly, I had learned to be confident. My Uncle gave me all this, justby sharing some of his time-I will never be able to thank him enough.In college I joined a racquetball club and played in the women’s league.One of the girls I met was Linda. Linda was half African-American andhalf Italian, about 5’10” weighing around 130 pounds. A wonderful by-product of her parent’s love. The only odd thing about her was that noneof the girls in the league seemed to care for her. No one talked to her, orwanted to play with her-she was an outcast. Because Linda was one ofthe few non-white members, I wondered if her forced isolation was due toracism. Personally I didn’t see any reason why I shouldn’t play with Linda,so I did, and we quickly became friends. It wasn’t till later that I learnedwhy the other girls kept their distance.A few weeks after I started playing racquetball with Linda, a redheadnamed Lilly told me during Physic class that I had better watch my assaround Linda.”What?” I asked, knowing I couldn’t have heard Lilly correct.”I said you had better watch your ass around Linda”, Lilly told me again.”She’s a dyke–a lesbian–a rug-muncher. Do I need to draw you a thepicture?””But., but.” I stutter.”She’s always hitting on the girls at the club. She’s hit on me severaltimes. She’s even hit on that fat cow Penny.” Lilly informed me.”That can’t be”. I said in defense of myself.”Mark my words, she is only being nice to get into your panties. Watchyourself, unless that’s what you are looking for.” Lilly warned me with asnarl.I would like to say that Lilly’s words hadn’t bothered me, but they did. Ihad felt the hands of woman on me before and I had liked it. I liked it somuch that I didn’t trust myself. I was in college to become great, a sourceof pride and joy for my family, not to become a dyke. I grew up in aCatholic family where homosexuality was wrong, and the last thing Iwanted to do was disappoint them. So for these reasons I made myselfbelieve that I shouldn’t play with Linda any more. We were schedule toplay again tonight, and I desperately wanted to cancel. So with a strongconviction in my mind and the phone in my hand I dialed Linda’s numberto cancel our match. I was ready to give her some phony excuse abouttoo much schoolwork. With each unanswered ring, my heart beat a littlefaster, and my breathing became more labored. Lying was never easy ofme and I was dreading the discussion I was about to have. For better orworst, no one answered the phone. Thus, not wanting to be rude, I wasdestine to play one more game with Linda. But I was determined that itwas going to be the last game we ever played.Have you ever been in the position where someone says, “Don’t lookdown!”, or avcilar escort “Don’t look now, but.”, and you then can’t help but to look?That is how I felt. Lilly told me Linda was a lesbian and I couldn’t stopmyself from staring. It has always been difficult for me to keep my eyes tomyself around women, and this latest bit of news didn’t help. Whilechanging out of my street clothes, I found myself stealing glances ofLinda. Her back was to me has she faced her locker. She was wearingnothing but a pair of white cotton panties that beautifully contrast her darkolive skin, and a white “scrunchy” that held her long, curly, dark hair.Linda had large breasts, so large that when she raised her arms to slip onher sports bra, they spilled to her sides for me to see. Seeing Linda in thisnew light captivated me, and my thoughts began to wander. I imagine thatI had the courage to walk up behind her and cup both of her breasts whilegrinding myself into her. I could almost feel the softness of her panties,and warmth of her back on my chest. My eyes lingered a little too long, forwhen I snapped out of my trance I noticed that Linda’s reflection wassmiling at me through the mirror in her locker. I was so embarrassed. Ifelt like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.After this incident, the last thing I wanted to do was lead her on any morethen I might have already done. So I deliberately dressed down. I wore aplain white T-shirt in stead of my normal sport top and I traded in mysoccer shorts that hung close to my thighs for a pair of baggy blue shortswhich weren’t the least bit flattering.Linda came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder and asked, “Areyou about ready? The court is ours in a few minutes. We should getgoing?””Sure, just let me fill my water bottle.” I struggled to say why trying to actnormal.Playing racquetball with Linda was now different. It wasn’t her fault, it wasmine. Linda had done nothing wrong. It was my perception of her thathad changed. A short conversation with Lilly had made me thinking thatevery move or jester made by Linda had a sexual undertone. I felt like a”Homo-Phobe”, and I hated it. Needless to say it was difficult for me toconcentrate.My greatest asset had become my speed, which I’m sure is due to my 5’2″frame, which only has to carry about 105 pounds. Normally I fly aroundthe court, but not tonight. My moves were sluggish and non-decisive.Clearly my mind was not the game. While Linda prepared to serve, Iwatched the pendulum motion for her hips instead of the ball. I took noteof every jester she made, whether it was to rub a sore muscle or to wipethe sweat from her brow. I felt Linda was flirting with me, and every movewas for my benefit.Linda’s asset to the game was her shear size and strength. Her serveswere strong enough to leave echoes in the court for several seconds. Butany player will tell you that you need more then strength to win, you alsohave to have speed and accuracy. Through precision ball handling I cannormally run her ragged around the court. In the past she had never beena real challenge for me. Our matches were little more then a warm-up oran opportunity for me to experiement. But not tonight. My lack ofconcentration had allowed Linda to get within a point of winning her firstgame. I would like to say that I handle losing gracefully but that would bea lie. I needed five straight points to win and I was bound and determineto get them. I felt like I had almost driven off the rode whiledaydreaming-but now I was fully awake, and ready to do battle.I snapped off four serves that landed beautifully in the corner, causingLinda to do little else but watch. In less than a minute I was once again incontrol of the game. I only needed one more point to win. Linda’s hope offinally winning a game was quickly evaporating. Has I stood in the servebox, bouncing the blue ball, preparing for my last serve, I let the “cocky”side of me out, and I did something that I still regret. Without even lookingat the ball, I turned my head and winked at Linda while hitting the ball.Because of my cockiness I had allowed Linda to get a hold of the rubberball, and she attacked like an a****l. I had lost my chance for a quickvictory, and would now have to work for it. After a few volleys I wasdesperately trying to find a way to get back in control, but Linda wantedthe game has much as I did-maybe even more. Sweat violently flew offher body has she crushed the ball with her racquet. But instead of hittingthe target wall-she hit me.Time froze has the room filled with the noise of Linda’s impact. In slowmotion I saw my hand betray me and drop my racquet to the floor. I knewI had been hit, but I felt no pain. The pain was delayed just long enoughfor me to realize şirinevler escort that I had won the game-but at what cost? When thepain arrived, it hit with a vengeance. Collapsing on the wooden court, Igrasped my right calf just below the knee. Tears spilled from my tightlyclosed eyes, has I tried to muffle my cries. Linda repeatedly told me howsorry she was and how she didn’t mean to hit me. She desperatelywanted to make the pain go away, but didn’t know what to do. Shewrapped me in her strong arms, rocking me like a c***d, until my tearswent away. If I wasn’t in such agony, I’m sure I would have enjoyed herattention. After several minutes I was able to stand, and even though myleg didn’t require medical attention, I did have a large purple bruiseshaped like a racquetball. The mark remained for several weeks.With hopes of relieving the throbbing sensation caused by Linda’s hit, Ilowered my naked body into the hot tub. The locker-room was mostlydeserted, for the club had already closed, giving stragglers like myselftime to change while they went about their closing duties.Linda walked to the hot tub, wearing a pink towel wrapped around herwaist, fully exposing her lovely brown chest. It has been my observationthat athletic woman typically do not have large breast-at least not naturalones. But just to prove me wrong, their they were. They had to be atleast 38D, and I started to feel inadequate, for I was only a 32B. HasLinda removed her towel, and hung it next to mines, my eyes stareddesperately, trying to take in has much as possible. Linda knew she wasturning me on, and she loved it. Instead of sitting in the tub where sheentered, she purposely crossed over me, momentarily pausing with herlegs straddled over mine. For a brief moment, her belly button stared atme, has my eyes followed a trail of dark hair that ran from her navel to thetop of her dark wet pussy. Her pussy was neatly groomed to fit her bikini,and was still dripping from her recent shower. If I was able to breath Ithink I could of smelled her sweet aroma. It was all I could do not to wrapmy arms around her waist and kiss her lean stomach.Our thighs touched has she sat to my right. Linda started the jets, causingthe water to churn, making it impossible for me to see anything under thesurface. Next to Linda I felt like a little girl, for while my chest was fullysubmerged, Linda was tall enough for her “caramel” colored nipples toride the waves cause by the jets.”I really am sorry for hitting you. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Lindaapologized again.”I know. Accidents happen.” I conceded.Hidden by the clouds of bubbles, I felt Linda’s hand on the bruise shecaused. “Does it hurt much?” She whispered, while staring at me witheyes that told me something wonderful was about to happen.”Not any more.” I managed to say.With that she hugged me, and our necks fell on each other. She rubbedmy back while gently kissing the spot behind my ear. Chills ran throughmy body has I felt the hairs on my neck stand. I held her close; enjoy thefeel of her warm chest over mine. With big pouting lips, Linda kissed medeeply, tasting me with her tongue. If I had ever held the notion ofresisting her advances, they were quickly gone. Linda was releasingdesires in me that I had hoped were gone.I spread my legs open has I felt Linda wedging her hand between mythighs. With long nails, Linda knitted my pussy hairs, like a cat fluffing apillow. Still sitting besides me, Linda lifted my right leg and swung it overher left thigh, spreading me even wider, giving her full access to mydefenseless pussy. Still sucking my neck, Linda cupped my pussy withher hand and squeezed. Has she flexed the palm of her hand she causeda wonderful riptide to pulsate about my groin. My toes curled with delighthas Linda alternated between rubbing my clit and causing streams ofwater to rush in and out of my pussy lips. My left leg started to shake hasmy stomach hardened. Has the impending climax built inside of me, Igrasped for air, desperately trying to dampen my cries, hoping not toattract any attention. While tracing my jaw line her tongue, Linda insertedtwo fingers knuckle deep inside of me and began to rub my clit with herthumb. Unable to withstand Linda’s assault any longer I climaxed, whilemuffling my delights into Linda neck.Linda gently stroked my over sensitive pussy while I attempted to regainmy breath. Linda grabbed my hand and placed it on top of her pussy.Has I was enjoying the feel of her short pubic hairs; I heard the locker-room door open. Quickly trying to compose myself, I removed my handfrom Linda’s crotch and swung my leg off her thigh and placed it backwhere it belonged.”Hi ya’ girls?” Margo the Receptionist said wearing a white terry cloth taksim escort robethat danced in swirls about her ankles. “I hope you two don’t mind mejoining you?” she stated more then she asked.”Hop on in, the water’s warm.” Linda offered with a wave of her hand.”Nothing beat a relaxing dip in the tub after a long day”. Margo added.Instead of sitting on the tub and then swinging her legs around, Margoplaced one leg in and spun the other around. Giving me a brief shot ofpinkness that peaked out between her finely trimmed bush. Margotemporally lost her balance and almost landed in my lap. Apologizing forher clumsiness Margo finally seated herself opposite of us, giving me aclear view of her over-sized-silicon boobs.”Did you see Andrew tonight? He is so hot. I would love to get a hold ofthat.” Margo offered as a topic of conversation.Not being in the mood for small talk, Linda saved me by saying, “Was hethe guy wearing the orange short?””Oh heavens no. That’s Greg. Andrew was wearing red. Andrew alwayswears red.” Margo went on, has I felt Linda’s hand sneak its way back tomy legs. I shot Linda a nasty look, but she never turned to meet my glaze,instead she focused on Margo, pretending to be interested in her story.”Don’t get me wrong, I think Greg is nice and all. He’s got money anddoesn’t mind showing a girl a good time, it is just that, well-he’s got ashort weenie”, Linda enlightened us by holding both index fingers, about 2inches apart.Meanwhile I’m squeezing my legs as tight as I could, desperately trying todeny Linda access. But with the combination of Linda’s strong arms andmy tired legs, Linda managed to wedge her hand up against my crotch.Both of my arms were resting along the tub, and although I wanted tomove them under the all-concealing-water with the hope of stopping her, Ifeared that I would draw Margo’s attention, and she would figure out whatwas going on.”I don’t know about you two, but I like my cocks big.” Margo frankly statedwith a nod of her head. “The bigger the better. I hate it when people saysize isn’t important. Believe me it is. Now I haven’t seen Andrew’sequipment-yet-but it has got to be big. Have you noticed that packageof his?” Margo earnestly asked.”To be honest no. But I’ll have to make it a point to check him out. Howbig do you think it is?” Linda asked while rolling her thumb across myover-sensitive clit.”Oh God, I don’t know. I would have to say at least 8 inches.” Margowhispered while Linda continued to strum me like a guitar. “I say thatbecause Kevin, my last boyfriend, was about 6 inches or so, and I can tellAndrew looks much bigger. He might even be 9 or 10 inches. I wonderhow thick it is? Any way I got a nice warm place for Andrew’s cock.” Andwith that Margo pointed her finger towards her submerged crotch.My stomach started to tighten, both of my legs were now shaking, myteeth were clenched and I was finding it difficult to breath. I was onlymoments away from climaxing in front of the Club Receptionist and didn’tknow what to do. Has a last desperate measure I calmly, but stillappearing to be interested in Margo’s penis fixation, put both of my armsin the water and tried to pry Linda’s hand away. But it was not to bemoved.”Do you think bigger cocks cum more?”, Linda asked Margo, our newSexpert.”Well-I don’t know. Maybe? I never thought of that. It probably hasmore to do with the size of the balls. I know I hate it when the stuff gets inmy hair”. Margo rationalized while running her fingers though her hair.My moment was here. Time had run out. What was I to do? Has the firstwave hit me I naturally bent over. My nose was touching the water hasbubbles popped in my face. My wet hair hung in front of me, mercifullyconcealing my face. I managed to muffle my cries through gritted teeth.After a few seconds of what must of looked like a seizer of sorts, Margoasked if I was okay.”I accidentally hit her during our match today. She’s in a lot of pain”, Lindaoffered has an excuse.”Oh yes I heard about that. That was a hard hit you took. You know if youaren’t careful you could end up with those `very-close veins’. You ought togo see a Doctor.”, Margo the Sexpert suggested.I was fed up. It was bad enough that a girl I hardly knew was treating melike her personal slut, and I certainly didn’t need a half-wit giving memedical advice. Enough was enough. As soon as I was able to catch mybreath, I simply stood up. I no longer cared if Linda’s hand stayedembedded in my crotch. I was leaving. Thankfully when my pussy hairsbroke the water line, Linda’s hand wasn’t there. That certainly would ofgiven Margo something to gossip about.Wrapping my towel around my neck, I could feel two sets of eyes watchingmy every move has my juices trickled down my inner thighs. A trail of,”not-just” water, followed me has I padded barefoot back towards mylocker.”Hey your suppose to dry off after you get out of the tub.” Margo saidreminding me of the club rules, while Linda chuckled to herself.Without breaking a stride or turning around I emotionally gave them both the”finger”.

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