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Teenager secretly works in a glory hole booth. Her last visitor of the night has the perfect cock, but what’s…

“Wendy, I’ve told you before. You are NOT going out without a bra on, and that’s final,” said Wendy’s mother,…

My clothes were neatly laid out on the bed. Red silk blouse, black ankle length wrap around skirt, lacy white…

Then I saw him, there he stood. His head was down, his hair a dark curtain covering his eyes. My gaze lingered on him for an instant, his head tilted to the side a little bit, so that one eye peaked out of his dark hair. He looked directly into my eyes. My drink stopped at my parted lips, I felt foolish, blushing, I swallowed hard and set the drink down on the table in front of me. Gathering my courage up, my eyes drifted down the rest of his body. He wore a black net long sleeve shirt, his upper body was totally visible through the netting. I could see the chiseled look of his chest, the dark circles and glint of silver where his nipples stood out against the material. His legs were encased in what looked like broken in black leather, tightly buckled at the waist with a silver buckle. Black biker boots with small silver buckles on the sides rounded out the package. Both of his hands were stuffed into the front pockets of his pants, his shoulders were down and rounded, sorta like a little kid who knows he’s done something wrong and is just waiting for the punishment. When my eyes had made it back up to his face, he had moved his head a little more to the side and back so that I could see his entire face. He was looking right back at me. I hope he likes what he is seeing, I thought to my self as I straightened out my shoulders and sat up a little straighter. A small smile curved the corners of his mouth, and I blushed again. I don’t usually go to clubs alone, but my date had canceled and I had just sorta wondered in. The guy had taken his hands out of his pockets and placed them against the wall behind him, fingers spread out near his hips, palms against the brick. He looked like he was about to push off the wall, but he stayed there, looking at me with that half smile on his lips. When my heart stopped beating so fast and my breath came easily again, I realized that he was waiting for an invitation. Fear bloomed in my stomach, what the hell was I doing, did I really want this to happen?? I looked down at my hand on the glass and realization dawned warm and comforting in my groin. I looked back up at him, he had raised his eyebrows a little, sort of a question mark in his eyes. I nodded at him and the question left his eyes and a smile took its place. He pushed off the wall, winked at me and turned around and strode out the door of the club. So I was supposed to follow him, did I dare? Fear doubt and an incredible electric feeling hit my stomach again, I stood up and downed the rest of the drink in one gulp. I walked quickly to the door, pushing out into the warm air. The noise level went down considerably. There he was, just turning the corner to where my car was parked. I followed. The parking lot was not lit very well, lights at either end of the building where you either spiraled up or down to the next level, but no lights in between. He was leaning against my car, waiting for me. I got a better look at him up close, it was still dark but I my eyes were getting adjusted. He had small silver nipple rings and no hair on his chest. His smile revealed perfectly white teeth. His hair was black, shining and just past his shoulders. He had one hand in his front pocket and the other was leaning against the top of my car, bent at the elbow his hand cradling his head. I did not know what to say. I pulled keys out of my jeans and walked around to the passenger side of the car, the side he was on. His hip was pressed against the door handle. I held the key out in front of his groin and made a stab at the lock. I missed, the key clattered against the paint on the door. I could feel his eyes on me, I looked up nervously at his face, the keys jangling slightly in my hand. He really did have perfect teeth, they were all showing in the smile he was wearing. The hand that was in his pocket came out and lightly touched my hand that was holding the keys. I felt a bolt of electricity shoot up my arm and go directly to my lower stomach. I dropped the keys. They lay right on his silver buckled boot. I smiled nervously and bent my knees, going straight down the front of his body to retrieve the keys. His boot moved slightly so that the keys fell between his boots. I swallowed on a dry throat and got my hand around the key ring. My face was directly in front of his crotch, the leather smelled warm and rich. As I was standing up, I let my hand stay between his legs, softly raking the key up the inside of his leg. When I got to groin, I scraped up the front of his thigh and looked into his face again. I felt more power, more control.sex imageHis eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly open, his hips had pushed forward a little. But I could still hit the key hole. The key slide into the lock, I turned it and brushed the front of his pants with my knuckles. Again I felt the bolt go up my arm and straight to my cock. He leaned closer and whispered something in my ear. Was it Latin? I didn’t understand it. He simply smiled and opened the car door. He folded himself into my little sports car. I ran around to the drivers side. He had reached across and unlocked my door. I got in and noticed how big he looked in my car, he looked uncomfortable. I reached between his legs and found the control that moved the seat back, my elbow was brushing against his cock as I struggled to move the knob from my position. It finally let go and swept him back about 15 inches. He stretched his legs out and sighed. I put the key in the ignition and paused to think of what I was doing. What was I doing? Where was this going? I looked again at his body, he was beautiful. I turned the ignition and put the car in reverse. I went to the spiral that went down and we were soon on the street, heading to my house. It was incredibly hot in my car, he touched a button on the door and the window came down on his side. His hair flowed freely around his face and shoulders. I could smell him on the breeze, in the car. He smelled very masculine, with just a little polo. I wanted to touch him, taste him, get in really close and smell him. I struggled with all these emotions, and more. Did this mean I was gay? Had I been gay all along. Sex with My girlfriend had been satisfying, I came didn’t I? But I don’t think I had ever been this aroused at just the thought of touching someone. I wanted desperately to reach out to him, caress him. He hummed slightly, his eyes closed, his head turning slightly to catch the breeze. It was a short drive, I live just outside the city. I rolled to a stop in my garage and pushed the button on my visor to close the door. I sat there waiting for something, anything. I was losing a battle with my self. He touched my leg, his hand was incredibly hot. I felt burned. A decision was made. I turned to him, there in the car, and looked into his eyes. They were a dark liquid brown. He looked at me expectantly, searching my face for some kind of clue. His hand still burned on my leg, he gave a small squeeze. I took his hand from my leg and brought it up to my mouth, brushing my lips across his knuckles. That’s when the dam burst inside me, I knew what I wanted and I knew how to get it. I got out of the car and headed for the door to the house. I heard his door shut and knew he was following me. I opened the door to the landing inside the house. From the landing you could go three ways, down to the basement, up to the second floor, or straight ahead to the kitchen. I chose the basement, I had a pool table, wet bar and a very comfortable leather couch down there. Not to mention the big screen and stereo. I could hear him padding down the stairs behind me. I turned on the light over the pool table and went to the bar and poured a white Zin, and offered it to him. He was looking at my stereo set up. He found the power and Nine Inch Nails started pumping out of it. He turned it down a little and turned to me with that big smile. He took the Zin and offered it to my lips, I did not catch it all in my mouth, some escaped. He came in close, his body pressed to mine and licked the wine off of my chin and the corner of my mouth, I think that was the no turning back point. One of my hands found his ass and the other tangled in his hair. He set the glass down on the pool table and wrapped his arms around me. Both of his hands scratching down the small of my back and into my jeans. My mouth found his, it was hot and alive with electricity. I could feel small explosions rocking my head, my cock, my hips, my stomach, my mouth. He was licking my teeth, biting and sucking at my lips, reaching further into my mouth with his tongue. I felt him break the kiss, I sucked in air and went searching for his hot mouth again. He had moved to my jaw, he was kissing along the curve and following it up to my ear, leaving a wet trail where ever his mouth touched. I groaned and dragged his mouth to my throat, right below my ear, I could hear his ragged breathing and feel his hot breath on my throat. I took his earlobe in my mouth and sucked for all I was worth. I gently tugged on it with my teeth and then moved to shove my tongue into his ear. That got a groan out of him. I could feel him sucking hard on my neck, how was I going to explain a hickey to My girlfriend? He came up for air and found my mouth again, I was ready, I let my tongue trace his wet lips, then I pushed in side his mouth to lick his teeth and probe into the nooks and crannies of his luscious mouth. He moaned and roughly rubbed his leather crotch to my denim one. He pulled his hands off my ass and out of my pants. He was moving his hands up my chest to the buttons on my shirt. He struggled with the first one briefly before just pulling it apart, he did the same all the way down to my stomach. Buttons were flying everywhere. I pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the couch. I wanted a closer look at his nipples. They were perfectly round, puffy and an erotic shade of red. The silver rings made his nubs stand on end. I wanted to take it in my mouth, but I didn’t want to hurt him. He roughly pushed my lips to his nipple. I gently took the whole thing into my mouth, ring and all. I could not close my teeth around his nipple so I tugged on the ring with my teeth. He hissed and ground his leather crotch against me. I lavished the same attention on his other nipple. One of my hands was caressing the small of his back, I love that area. The other was wrapping itself in his silky hair. I pulled his head back roughly and locked my mouth on his neck, let him explain that hickey to his girlfriend. When I could taste blood in my mouth, I let his neck go. The clash of the bright red hickey on his white throat was so sexy. His hands were moving over my chest pinching my nipples and tugging the hair that was all over my pecs. I wanted to move down his body, I started at his collar bone and kissed and sucked my way down his chest. I made a wet trail to his right nipple, my hand closed on his left one, pinching and pulling at the ring. My mouth slid down his rib cage. I found a whispy pleasure trail. I tongued every hair on his belly before moving to his belt buckle. I tried to undo his belt with my teeth, but it would not budge, so he undid it himself. I loved the feel of the warm metal in my mouth as I pulled the belt free from its loops. I threw the belt toward the couch and moved toward the buttons on his leather pants. I pulled and they undid themselves. He was standing above me, his hands on either side of his body holding himself up with the pool table. I could smell his crotch, the heat was incredible. It felt like I was reaching in to molten lava, as I reached into his pants. I felt a thick patch of hair and further down a very hard cock. He wore no underwear. With one hand still inside, I pulled his pants off with the other, all the way down to his black square toed boots. His cock lay twitching in my palm, purple and glistening in the heat. I kissed the tip, I ran my tongue along the underside. I licked at his balls and then came up to tug on his bush with my teeth before pushing him onto the pool table. I pulled his boots off, then his pants, then socks. He lay there naked and beautiful. I took the glass of Zin and poured some on his cock, it ran over his hips and down his balls and dripped onto the pool table. I started to lick it up. It had pooled on his thigh, the wine tasted funky mixed with his salty flesh taste. I left him there on the table while I undid my belt and jeans. I shucked them off in one fluid movement. I was wearing boxers. my cock stuck out of the slit at an angle. those too came off and went to the pile of clothes near the couch. I went back to him. his hips were on the pool table, his legs dangling over the edge. I pushed his knees up till his feet were planted on the bumper of the table leaving his ass and balls swaying gently over the edge. I got more wine and poured it on his balls this time. I watched it flow down the crack of his ass and drip down the edge of the pool table. I knelt on the floor so that my face was level with his ball sac. I pushed his thighs further apart and leaned into his balls. I tried to suck them both into my mouth at the same time. I couldn’t, so I settled for one then the other. He was writhing on the edge of the pool table, moaning and groaning just the way I like it. I ran my tongue down the path that the wine had taken and I heard a loud moan. I pushed my face into his ass and wedged my tongue into his hole. The sounds he was making went up an octave as he ground his ass onto my tongue.taboo xxx storiesHe had taken his cock in hand and was stroking it slowly from balls to tip. I searched around for a while trying to find his prostate with my tongue. No luck, but by this time he was growling to me or to himself, I couldn’t tell. After slobbering all over his hole I stood up and took my cock in hand, running it up and down his crack. His eyes were smoldering into mine, begging me to ram my cock up his ass. I placed the head of my tool up to his puckered little ring, and pushed very gently. His little ass welcomed me in and settled around my cock. I was gripping his upper legs and pulling him toward me, sinking deeper into his tight little hole. His teeth were set and his eyes were closed, he was still pulling on his cock, long slow strokes. I had bottomed out, my balls were against the pool table. I slowly pulled all eight inches out, I aimed the tip of my cock and plunged in ball deep. He yelped and started to stroke himself faster. I leaned over and bit his leg, I smacked his ass, I wanted him to cry out again. I pulled all the way out again, and lingered at the opening, I took his balls in my hand and rolled them around. I gave them a good tug as I shoved my cock in to the hilt. He cried out, I am pretty sure it was Latin, what ever, as long as he made noise. I wrapped his legs around me and picked him up, my cock still buried to the hilt inside him. I held him close to me, I pulled on his nipple rings, sucked one in my mouth, then the other. I carried him to the big leather couch, my hips pumping into him the whole time. His cheek lay against my forehead, his mouth close to my ear. He was whispering something to me, I could not understand. His cock was rubbing against my abs. I laid him down on the couch and kissed his forehead, his brow, eyelids, the tip of his nose until I found his hot little mouth. I sucked fiercely on his bottom lip, pulling and biting into it. I licked his teeth forcing my tongue deeper into his mouth, feeling his cock squirm against my abs. I pulled almost all the way out and plunged in again finding a slow rhythm. working my way in and out while my tongue tried to rape his mouth. I wanted him to be noisy, I wanted to hear his grunts and groans. I pulled off his mouth and bit his shoulder. He cried out and humped against my abs, both his hands were wrapped around my ass, pulling me deeper into him. I leaned down to his ear and whispered “Fuck my cock baby,” then shoved my tongue into his ear. He shouted something and his ass got very tight and so hot. I could feel that he was coming on my stomach. He pinched my ass and scratched my chest, his ass gripping my cock so tightly that I started to come, bucking roughly into him again and again until collapsing on top of him. We lay that way for a long time, snuggled together, me on top and still inside him. My head resting on his shoulder. I could feel his cock moving against my abdomen, getting smaller and tucking itself back into its foreskin. I let my spent cock slide out of him and felt my cum seeping out. I moved to his side and held him to me, my front to his back, one arm under my head as a pillow, the other wrapped around his abdomen. I could hear his light breathing, I think he was asleep. I drifted off to sleep, feeling more relaxed, happier than I had ever been in my entire life.

I want to start by saying that this is a true story to a point. I got scared and took…

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

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