The new tennis pro improved her swing—and her swinging

I was awakened that Saturday morning by my husband, who had just returned from a week-long business trip. Before I was fully awake Don had taken me in his arms, and our lips were locked in a passionate kiss as he filled his hands with my naked breasts.

I was delighted to feel his arms around me, because lately it had seemed as though one or another of us was always traveling, and our time together had been limited. When I felt his urgent erection against my leg, I wished I’d gotten up early enough to shower and douche. I knew it was too late when I felt his hand creeping up my thigh. I felt his body tense just a little as his fingers encountered the dry crusted hair around my swollen pussy lips. He kissed me again while he carefully parted my tender lips and slipped his middle finger in my creamy cunt.

“Okay,” he said, “who’s the lucky bastard who’s been fucking you this time?”

I knew better than to lie. “It was Carl,” I said. “You know, the new tennis pro at the country club.”

I had run into Carl at the gas station the day before, and he talked me into going to a nearby bar for a drink. I knew what was on his mind, of course, because he had been trying to get into my panties for months. Since my first lesson with him he had never missed an opportunity to tell me how much he wanted to fuck me. And I admit that I relished the feel of his erection pressing against my ass when he gave me pointers on my swing. Now, with my husband away, I was hot enough to say what the hell.

While we sat at the bar Carl felt me up a little, even though several customers could see what he was do­ing! His boldness made me so hot that I reached over and felt his cock. Ohmygod, it was so full and hard, it started a fire in my snatch that I knew only some good fucking and several loads of come could put out.

“Let’s go,” he whispered, and a second later we were walking out of the bar with his hand cupping my ass. It was as though he was saying to those watching men, “Yes, I’m about to fuck this fine little filly while you eat your hearts out!”

He walked me across the street to a shabby motel. I didn’t bother protesting. He got us a room, and minutes later we were tumbling nude into the bed. Within seconds he had his cock in me. God, it felt good to have eight inches of cock in my hungry pussy. While he fucked me hard and fast, I met each thrust with an equal passion until we both came.

I didn’t even think about birth control until after he already filled me with his semen four times. When I got home I douched as quickly as I could, hoping to wash away any chance of getting pregnant. Then just after it got dark I heard a knock at the door. It was Carl, grinning and wanting more. I didn’t have the power to tell him no.

But when we got to the bedroom I told him to wait till I inserted my diaphragm. He laughed and said if I was going to get pregnant it had probably already happened, and I was so hot to feel his cock again that I gave up and spread my legs. He fucked me several more times before finally leaving to go home to his wife. I was so tired, I didn’t even bother to clean myself up.

While I was telling Don all of this, he was kissing and stroking my body, paus­ing only to strip. When I finished, he stretched me out and began to fuck me passionately, saying how much he loved me. His cock wasn’t as big as Carl’s, but it didn’t matter, as he is the love of my life. I came twice before he suddenly pulled himself out of me and let out a roar as he spewed his come all over my stomach and tits.

“Damn, honey,” I said, “why didn’t you come inside me, so if I get pregnant it might be your baby?”

He held me tight, squishing his sticky come between us. “You’ve got to stop taking chances,” he said. “No more fucking without birth control, okay? Now let’s get you cleaned up.”

He took me in the bathroom, where he helped me douche, and then we showered together, becoming so aroused that we hardly took time to towel off before jump­ing back in bed. But not before he made sure I had put in my diaphragm.

It turned out that I was lucky and got my period right on schedule. Now I make sure to wear my diaphragm whenever I slip Carl a little pussy, which I do after every tennis lesson and sometimes in between. Don, of course, is fine with it, as long as I report back to him with the details.

—F.L., Savannah, Georgia