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On a late Saturday afternoon one summer my 18 year old sister and I were alone in the house. I…

A few years ago I broke up with a girl I was dating for about six months. I caught her cheating on me one night when I came home from work early.When we first met I thought she was kind of a slut because I had seen her out before at some of the local bars and she always seemed to have a lot of guys hanging around and talking to her. She would dance with anybody and always wanted to be the center of attention. Several times I would see her leave with three, four, five or more guys.One night when I finally decided to she what she was about I asked her to dance and we started talking. She said she was looking for a good man that would treat her right and not run around on her. We sat and talked and had a few drinks and when I asked her if she would like to come over for a nightcap after the bar closed she agreed. That’s how we got hooked up. I have a good job and treat my women with respect and thought she would appreciate me. Wrong!I had suspected she was cheating on me for a couple of months before I caught her. We were living together and one night I came home early from work and caught her in bed with another guy. I pulled in the drive and saw an unfamiliar car. I figured one of her girlfriends stopped by. When I came in the house I heard noise coming from upstairs and I went up to let her know I was home. When I opened the bedroom door I saw a guy zip up his pants and grab his shoes and my girlfriend pulling on a T-shirt. I was in shock. Before I could say anything, the guy ran by me, down the stairs and out the door. Becca sat there on the bed and started crying saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” I told her I didn’t care how sorry she was and to get the fuck out of my house. She left and came by the next day to gather up her things.A few months later I stopped in a bar that I seldom go in to and when I went to the men’s room I saw the following scrawled on the wall:BECCA DAVIES IS A SLUT! I hear that! I did her too! SO DID I Me and two buddies banged her one night I NAILED HER, JR. me too Dean I was in a 7 man train on her Dave Only 7? She fucked me and 11 other guys one night at a party. Yeah I was there too. That bitch loves a gang-bang! I was at two bangs with her. One was 9 guys and she did 7 the next night. Rob Damn, has anyone in town NOT fucked her? Probably not! She told me once her fantasy is to screw 50 men in one night I’m there. Just name when and where?Well, you know how guys are after they have had a few. You see a message on a wall in a men’s room and everybody thinks they are a comedian. I thought it was pretty funny and didn’t give it much thought. Then a couple weeks later I stopped in the same bar again I went into the rest room to read the comments again and have a laugh. and I saw this added to the comments about Becca:ATTENTION EVERYONE, I talked to Becca and told her I would arrange a gangbang for her and she said cool.Place and time to be announced. Check back.NOTICE: Becca Davies said she is ready to do a gangbang with as many guys as I can find. Friday, July 4th at 9pm at Lake Shore Park, back pavilion. Everyone is invited. Tell all your friends.I thought that was hilarious! Then I went back to the bar and got another beer. While I was standing at the bar I heard a couple of guys talking. One guy was saying he knew who she was and a buddy of his told him it was really going to happen. I thought, ‘Hey, I’m going to have to check this out.’The day of the big event came and I made my preparations. I packed a twelve of Michelob and a couple of sandwiches in a cooler and headed for the park about 6 pm. I knew the place where it was supposed to happen backed up to a nice stand of trees where I could hide and be well covered but still have a nice view. There is a factory on the other side of the woods behind the park and I knew it would be closed for the holiday weekend. I drove there, parked my truck and made my way thought the woods to a spot behind the pavilion where I could watch and not be seen, cracked a beer and waited.About 8:00 I saw a couple of cars pull in to the parking lot with about three or four guys in each. They just sat there in the cars and drank some beer. Around 8:30 another car pulled in and two guys and Becca got out. They looked at the other cars and waved and all the guys got out. Then they all headed over to the pavilion. There were seven guys in the other cars and the two guys and Becca. They sat on a picnic table and were talking, drinking and laughing.About 9:15 another car pulls in and five guys get out and walk over. I hear Becca whoop and say, “Let’s party!” She is only wearing a sundress and sandals and she just lifts the dress over her head and tosses it to the ground. All the guys start whistling and yelling and undoing their pants. Becca starts dancing to music on a radio that someone brought and the guys start rubbing her and squeezing her tits and ass. Pretty soon she is lying on the table and the guys start to form a couple of lines to begin the sex.So now there are 14 guys standing in line to fuck and be sucked by my Ex. To tell the truth, I was getting pretty turned on by seeing this. Becca was laying on the table and the guys started by having her suck their cocks and when they got good and hard they would climb on the table and fuck her.After a little while three more cars pulled in and 11 guys got out to join the party. Becca was really getting into it and the newcomers jumped right in. She was on her knees taking it up the ass while sucking two guys at once. Then she was sandwiched between two guys getting it in the pussy and ass.One group of guys from the first to arrive were done and went to their car and leave. Meanwhile, the rest were going strong. Another car pulled in and five guys got out, walked over and pile on. I was keeping a count of the coming and going of cars until about 1:00. I counted 18 cars and one van and when I got to 50 guys I quit counting. I knew Becca liked to fuck but I was amazed at her stamina.There was a lot of drinking going on along with the fucking and I noticed not a lot of attention was being paid to who was there. I decided I was going to get in on some of this action and worked my way to the edge of the parking lot. When another car pulled in and four guys got out I snuck in behind them and walked up to the pavilion. By now Becca was so drunk and sexed up that she couldn’t tell who was doing what. I got in line behind a couple of guys to take my turn with her. I was already hard so I opened my pants and freed my cock. I always carry a couple of rubbers with me just in case I need one so I slipped one on so I would be ready when my turn came. Some of the other guys were using them too, but most weren’t so I didn’t want to risk catching anything.The guy in front of me was screwing her now while she was sucking on a black guy’s dick. She was on her back with her legs spread and hanging over the edge of the table. The guy in front of me blew his load and pulled out so now it was my turn. I wasn’t worried about her seeing me because the black dude she was sucking was practically sitting on her face. He was pretty large and he was shoving his cock all the way down her throat and she was taking it with out so much as a single gag. I could see her throat bulge with his every thrust. I decided to fuck her in the ass so I lifted her legs and put them over my shoulders. Her ass was now on the edge of the table and I guided my cock to her poop shoot and started to push it in. She was pretty well loose and lubed from all the other cocks that had already been there so I slid right in. I started pumping and it didn’t take long before I was ready to shoot my wad. I was watching the black guys 10 incher sliding in and out of her face and stretching her neck and I never came so hard in my life! It was fantastic.After I was done I stepped aside and let the next guy in line move into position. I stayed around a while to watch some of the other action up close. It was a much better view than from my hiding place. I noticed that her dress had been trampled on and kicked away from the table a bit so I walked over by it and kicked it more toward my hiding place. I thought it would be cool if she couldn’t find it and had to go home naked. After a few more minutes I left behind a group of guys that were going back to the parking lot to leave and snuck back to the woods and back to my hiding place. I found a long stick and reached through the brush and snagged the dress. Then I got comfortable, opened another beer and watched some more banging.It was about 3:00 now and things were winding down. Most of the guys had left and Becca was passed out. There were six or seven guys sitting on the table drinking beer and rubbing Becca’s tits and their dicks. They were trying to get another stiffy to fuck her one more time before leaving. That’s when I heard some motorcycles heading in. It looked like about 20 Harleys and a couple of trikes. Word must have gotten to the local biker’s club and they came to check it out. The guys sitting at the table quickly did up their pants and looked at each other not knowing what to do. I’m sure they were not ready to rumble, (not that they would have any chance against 20-25 bikers), so when one of the hogs said, “We heard there was some slut giving a gang bang so we came to see. Guess your party is over, now it’s our turn.” They didn’t argue. They just got up, walked to the parking lot and left.The bikers didn’t care that Becca was passed out. They fucked her hard. They fucked her in the ass and pussy. They jerked off on her face and in her hair. Then one guy said, “Man, she’s all loose and worn out. Let’s just skull fuck her.” They laid her on her back and let her head hang over the edge of the table. Then they lined up and fucked her mouth one at a time. I thought they were going to break her neck the way they were pounding away. Even though she was unconscious her gag reflex was not working. One after the other they pumped their cocks down her throat and shot their loads. From my angle I could see the sperm running out of her mouth and down her face into her hair after each guy pulled out. I hoped they wouldn’t drown her.After they were all spent one of the guys went over to a trike and got his Rottie and brought him back. A couple of the other bikers flipped Becca over and lifted her ass in the air and held her up while they let the dog fuck her. After the dog was done one of the guys said, “Maybe we should wash her off some.” They all started laughing and then got up on the table and pissed on her. Then they got on their bikes and left.It was about 5:30 and still too dark to make it back through the woods to my truck so I sat and had another beer waiting for daylight. Then I fell asleep. I woke up when I heard a car door slam. I looked at my watch and it was 12:20 and a bright hot summer day. I peered through the bushes and saw a cop walking toward the pavilion. Someone must have made a report about all the traffic from last night. And there, lying on top of the picnic table, was Becca. Passed out, completely naked, surrounded by empty beer and whiskey bottles and used rubbers. Covered with dried cum and piss. What a mess!The cop looked at her a couple of minutes shaking his head. I don’t think he wanted to touch her because he took out his nightstick and gently nudged her with it until she woke up. Becca sat up with a start and looked around and saw the cop. Then she put her head down and puked up a big puddle of cum, right on the cop’s shoes! He stepped back and asked her what happened and if she was all right. She said she was fine and that she just had a little too much to drink last night. He asked her how she got there and where her clothes were. Becca said she couldn’t remember. The cop said, “Well, I’m sorry but I am going to have to take you in on a public indecency charge. He then put the cuffs on her and led her to his cruiser, put her in the back and covered her with a blanket. Then he left.Well I guess there must have been close to 100 guys that did Becca that night. She got her fantasy and then some. You can file this under Ripley’s Believe it or Not, but I know what I saw. Wish I had thought to bring my video camera. That would have made one Hell of a movie.

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

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

That Friday night, as we were fucking like rabbits in our marital bed, Victor came inside of my hungry cunt with an unusual strength.We both fell exhausted on the bed.My husband then surprised me, saying he would love to watch me trying a black cock. I told him I had been chatting with a black man during several months; but we had never met in person.Victor then asked if I could invite him to meet…The black guy was called Trevor.He had sent me some pictures, showing a huge handsome dark skin man. I guessed he would be well hung too.We finally met him first at a nearby pub, and we all three hit it off instantly. Victor invited him to come with us at our place, where we shared some few drinks and listened to music.I then made the first move and asked Trevor to take a shower with me. We did and I sucked him hard in the shower before we went to our bedroom, where my husband was waiting in a chair by the bed.Trevor put on a condom; but I told him I wanted bareback…I laid on my back and spread my thighs for him.When he entered me, I moaned loud, as I felt his thick cockhead stretching my cunt so badly. I looked at my husband and told him that we should have done this years ago… He smiled and agreed.Trevor made me cum at least four times during a whole hour. He finally arched his back and came inside of my very hot cunt.As he pulled out, I jumped on him and licked his still hard cock clean with my tongue.Victor suggested him to spend the night. I went whit my beloved husband to the guest room and there I gave him a quick blowjob, until he filled my mouth with his salty semen. I swallowed all and kissed Victor, warning him I would spend the night alone with my brand new Black Master, no witnesses at all…My hubby agreed and I kissed him deeply.I then joined Trevor in our marital bed and he fucked me for hours.I cried out loud during all night long, knowing Victor could hear my moans and screams through the thin wall between both rooms.Trevor asked me if I had taken a black cock up my ass; I lied to him, saying I had never been sodomized by a black man. He smiled, saying I was a naughty liar and said he would enjoy a piece of my ass and I could not escape from his monster black cock….I screamed in pain as his cock passed through my tight sphincter; but he was gentle; so, very soon pain became pure pleasure…The next morning, I let my husband watch us fuck once more; but this time Trevor was a bit rude and aggressive. His thick cock hurt me a little; but I liked this kind of pain.As my new Black Master left, Victor hurried to shove his face between my thighs and he sucked my slippery cunt, which was a real mess.Just a week after, Trevor came to fuck me again.This time it was just an anal session. The black man sodomized me in a very hard way, in front of my beloved husband, who enjoyed to watch me being abused by a hard huge black cock.interracial sex storiesAnd again, as soon as Trevor left, my loving man licked all this black man’s semen out from my poor stretched asshole.Next time Trevor came home to use my body, he allowed Victor to participate as a submissive cuckold.My beloved hubby was really eager to get that thick black cock in his mouth and I found myself in competition with him to see who was the best cocksucker…Victor won, according to Trevor’s opinion; but he was ordered to swallow all the salty cum that my black lover blasted in his mouth.While Trevor was sodomizing me, we all heard the doorbell rang.My hubby opened the door, finding two huge black guys there. They said Trevor had invited them to fuck a white married slut…I was shared by the three black guys like a ragged doll.They fucked all my three holes, even at the same time, while my loving hubby just witnessed the whole sex action…As they finally left, Victor realized I had been destroyed by those huge black cocks. He looked worried, as I laid on our marital bed, in a puddle of fresh sticky cum.I smiled at him… saying it was his fault…

My daddy pees on me and I like it. Sometimes I even beg him to whip out his big dick…

“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.

Martin was on the computer when Laura got home from work. In fact, he was usually on the computer whenever…

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