Adultery Erotic Short and Long Stories by smitanair_999

[Ramesh_Rocky]

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P E N T A P R I S M
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15

Camera Candida

9 : Ballboy

Dashrath couldn't take his eyes off her. Crouched beside the side support pole of the tennis net stretched across the floodlit court, the seventeen-year old stared at Anuja. She was the sexiest thing he'd seen.

He watched as she prepared to serve. Feet positioned behind the base line, she bent forward, her racquet arm dropped and bounced the ball with her other hand. Her T-shirt was damp with sweat and it clung to her breasts like film.

The gold chain swung around her necklace. The buttons of her T-shirt were open and the lapel swung free as she bent. Even at this distance he could see the swell of her lovely breasts in the low, tight sports bra. The exertion had stiffened her nipples and he could see their sharp stubs through the white T-shirt.

She caught the ball and, rearing, arching, bending back, threw it high, her arm lifted, her head back, eyes on the ball, her body lifting on her toes. Her skirt rode up her thighs and he caught a glimpse of the dark flash of her crotch.

She wasn't wearing anything under the skirt. Her body rose in the air, spun as her racquet arm whipped around, the centre of the racquet head meeting the ball perfectly. With a loud pok, the yellow ball shot across the net like a bullet, landing just inside the service line, skidding down the centre.

The follow through took Anuja a few steps inside the base line. She stopped, bouncing on her toes, her racquet set, watching the ball, moving to the centre at the back of the court. Her breasts jumped under her T-shirt.

On the other side of the net, Avinash struck the tennis ball cleanly and strongly, sent it whipping back to her backhand. Anuja took the return easily, and hit it back to his forehand; he whipped it to the corner of her forehand court. Anuja raced across and using a heavy topspin, struck it back deep into his backhand corner again.

Avinash returned it to her forehand corner. Anuja drew her arm well back. The yellow ball bounced once on the artificial surface, lifted high. She was perfectly positioned. She sprang off her toes, her tennis skirt lifting and flying, her doubled braid tossing, her gold necklace jumping, her breasts jiggling under the taut sports bra and brought her arm down and across in a whipping forehand.

The racquet struck the ball squarely in the sweet spot and went skimming back across the net hard and fast and low, just clearing the tape. It landed just inches inside the line and, with the heavy topspin of her wrist, kept low and shot forward.

On the other side of the net, Avinash leaped for it, his racquet arm stretched. The ball caught the frame and ricocheted wildly upward. Anuja followed, her racquet lifted for a smash. The ball landed outside the tram lines. Dashrath sprang after it.

Anuja shouted in exultation, tossing her racquet in the air, lifting her clenched fists, jogging to the net. Avinash smiled and met her at the net. He hugged her. They laughed.

Dashrath ran around the court perimeter and collected the balls. They were obviously through with the game. He jogged to the bench beside the umpire's chair.

"... You've got a helluva game," he heard Avinash say.

"It was close. Three sets to two and seven five in the third." Anuja was stuffing some clothing into her tote. Dashrath couldn't tell what it was.

"Not many people drive me that much."

Dashrath came up to them. "Shall I turn out the lights?" he asked in Hindi.

Avinash nodded. "Yes. Thank you."

The hotel had championship quality tennis courts, complete with umpire's chairs, resting benches, coolers, floodlights and tiered stands. It was late at night and the stands were empty.

He flipped open a gang box behind the umpire's chair and threw a master switch. The heavy floods died. The court sank into shadows, now lit only by the silvery moonlight and stars. Avinash and Anuja shared a bench on one side of the umpire's chair, packing their sports totes.

Dashrath stood before her, looking at her breasts and exposed thighs as she bent over and stuffed her racquet, wristband and headband into it. She took out a fresh T-shirt. He had difficulty containing his erection.

Avinash took the cans of tennis balls from him without really looking at him and dropped
them in his bag. He waited for her to finish.

Anuja straightened and looked at Dashrath. She smiled her thanks. Her eyes slid down his body, lingered on his crotch, then slipped away.

"Avinash."

"Mm. Ready?"

"No. Do you have your cameras?"

"What? Oh, yes, one or two. Not the full kit. Why?"

She looked at Dashrath again. Avinash followed her eyes and grinned. Well, well. A little cooling down exercise. He was all for it. The lad obviously had a monstrous erection. He was a good looking youth, with sharp features, full sensual lips, a fine nose, high cheekbones, a square jaw, a wispy mustache.

He wore a baggy khaki tunic and shorts. He was barefoot. His body was lean and wiry, though not very tall. His shoulders were wide, his chest broad, his torso V-shaped, his belly hard and flat and he had narrow hips.

His arms and legs were corded with sinew. Avinash moved his bag to the other bench and, opening it, began to take out his camera kit. Dashrath couldn't understand what he was up to. He looked back at Anuja. She smiled at him.

"Dashrath. That's your name, isn't it?" she said.

He nodded.

"Thank you. We had a good game."

He grinned, his teeth flashing strong and white, ducked his head shyly.

"I'm set," Avinash muttered softly. "Ready when you are."

"Give us distance. Disappear."

"Fine."

Dashrath was intrigued. Avinash left his bag on the other bench and moved away, slipping into the shadows. That left just him and her.

"Come closer."

Dashrath stepped forward.

"Closer, Dashrath. Don't be afraid."

He was very close now, inches from her. She smiled up at him. His crotch bulged and quivered and he couldn't hide.

"You deserve a tip," she murmured.