30-06-2019, 01:49 PM
In the meantime, Shirlyn was busy fucking Shankar and enticing Kenny. She wore clothes with deeper necklines, shorter hems, clothes that showed more thigh and breast and belly. She started her tennis lessons and her sports clothes clung to her trim, curved body like film when she sweated and he could see the stiffness of her nipples after the exertion.
Kenny fought to conceal his naked lust for her body and how she frequented his fantasies and tormented him as he masturbated, when he fucked Susan or Sheila. How he longed to see Shirlyn's naked body, to plunge his flesh into hers.
Kenny was a tall, handsome youth with a muscular build. He had a rugged, manly face with a fine, straight nose, thick hair, a wide brow, dark eyes, a hard jaw, wide slim lips and strong teeth. His body was muscular and sexy. Broad-shouldered and strong, he had a V-shaped torso with a deep, cleaved chest, a flat, hard belly and a narrow waist. His hips were high and lean. His torso was hairless and smooth, which she found sexy.
His arms and legs were thick with muscle. She knew that he worked out regularly and the results were impressive. She knew, too, that his cock was an imposing organ and that he knew how to use it. She longed to fuck him.
SHIRLYN SAW the ball early. She drew her right arm well back, the wrist cocked, the racquet head above her wrist. On the clay court, the ball rose high and she had to spring off the balls of her feet as she struck it. She took it early, her body twisting as she rolled her wrist and the racquet over the ball in a vicious top-spin.
The ball zipped back across the net, keeping low, skimmed the cord and bounced just inside the line. On the other side, Kenny saw her return in good time, too, and was already racing across the court. He got to it in time and, whipping his hand across the ball, drove it down the line to her backhand. Shirlyn rushed for it and slicing it powerfully, put it over the net in a controlled drop-shot and followed it by racing to the net.
Her opponent raced to the ball, tried to scoop it over the net. It caught the top cord and fell back on his side of the net. Shirlyn whooped in delight and flung her racquet in the air, jumping up and down, laughing and grinning. Kenny laughed, gasping and panting, and offered his hand. She pumped it eagerly.
"I can't believe it! I just can't believe it! I beat you! Three sets to two!"
"Congratulations, Shir. Great game. You've gotten much, much better."
"Thanks for teaching me, Kenny."
"You learn very quickly."
"I have a great teacher."
"Thanks. But next time we play, I wont let you win like I did today. Then let's see if you can beat me!"
"Let me win, did you? I had you all over the place. Just wait. Next time, I'll *crush* you!" she wrinkled her nose prettily, stuck her tongue at him. "Just watch!"
"Return match promise? Tomorrow?"
"Oh yes. Tomorrow, day after, whenever."
"My, my, someone's becoming really arrogant."
"Just kidding, love," she said softly, laughing and making him grin.
They walked to the benches at the far end of the court to collect their kit.
Shirlyn sat on the slatted wooden bench and bent over to open her sports bag. She was wearing a fine white T-shirt with a collar and three buttons and a handsome, short, white pleated skirt. Her hair was braided and coiled, held with a thick Turkish towel hair-ring. She wore wristbands, thick socks and expensive tennis shoes Sheila had got for her.
She had not buttoned her T-shirt. Her legs were bare high up her thighs and Kenny noted that they were firm and trim and supple. As she bent over, the lapels of her T-shirt swung low and he saw the luscious swell of her breasts, her long gold necklace glistening on her honey skin, nestling in her deep and inviting cleavage.
She wore a pretty brassiere, cut fine and thin, that seemed to only just cover her nipples. He ogled her unabashedly, enjoying the sight. He noticed a sexy little dark beauty spot on the inside of her left breast.
Shirlyn knew that he was watching her and, for a minute, thrilled with excitement. Perhaps, after all, things would work out soon. She dawdled, rummaging pointlessly in her bag. Finally, she straightened, pulling out her zip-up full-sleeved sweat-shirt. The T-shirt was damp with sweat and he could clearly see the sharp stubs of her nipples and the dark shadows of her aureoles.
She slipped into the sweat-shirt and he watched her breasts move. Zipping it up to just below her breasts, she rose and collected a towel from the rack. He took one too, and they rubbed themselves dry. Kenny retrieved his sweat-shirt and zipped it up. They hoisted their kit bags and walked home.
There was no one else in. He opened the door of the flat with a latch key and they dumped their kit bags in their rooms. They returned from their rooms to the hall. He selected a tape and slotted it into the stereo. Bright pop music pulsed through the speakers mounted at the corners of the room.
He sat down in a rocking chair and, kicking off his shoes and tugging off his socks, perched his feet on a footstool. Shirlyn grinned at him, lowered the volume slightly so they could converse, and perched on the low wicker stool by the coffee table. She, too, was now barefoot. She sat casually, her legs spread, one foot crossed over the other.
It was an unusual position for a woman, but Shirlyn tended to do things like this, without a hint of being self-conscious. Kenny couldn't help noticing that her skirt had slid up to her thighs, almost to her crotch. She noticed his gaze and smiled inwardly, making no attempt to adjust her clothing. He could see the white flash of her panties.
They chatted and she leaned forward on her elbows and the lapels of her sweat-shirt and T-shirt swung low again, giving him another glimpse of her splendid breasts. The neck of the T-shirt pulled to one side and he could see the thick gold necklace against her skin, curving sexily over the hollow in her collarbone. Her skin was smooth and clear, soft, yet firm, silky, like a ripe gbang.
Shirlyn felt his eyes on her and waited for him to make a move. He did nothing. She sighed to herself and discreetly lifted her skirt higher, bent lower, giving him a better look at her crotch and breasts. Still he did nothing.
"My god, it's hot," she said. "Look at us both sitting under this fan and still sweating!"
"Yeah. And it's the humidity that gets you."
"Shall I get you a towel?"
"Yes, please."
She smiled and got up and went into her bathroom.
Kenny fought to conceal his naked lust for her body and how she frequented his fantasies and tormented him as he masturbated, when he fucked Susan or Sheila. How he longed to see Shirlyn's naked body, to plunge his flesh into hers.
Kenny was a tall, handsome youth with a muscular build. He had a rugged, manly face with a fine, straight nose, thick hair, a wide brow, dark eyes, a hard jaw, wide slim lips and strong teeth. His body was muscular and sexy. Broad-shouldered and strong, he had a V-shaped torso with a deep, cleaved chest, a flat, hard belly and a narrow waist. His hips were high and lean. His torso was hairless and smooth, which she found sexy.
His arms and legs were thick with muscle. She knew that he worked out regularly and the results were impressive. She knew, too, that his cock was an imposing organ and that he knew how to use it. She longed to fuck him.
SHIRLYN SAW the ball early. She drew her right arm well back, the wrist cocked, the racquet head above her wrist. On the clay court, the ball rose high and she had to spring off the balls of her feet as she struck it. She took it early, her body twisting as she rolled her wrist and the racquet over the ball in a vicious top-spin.
The ball zipped back across the net, keeping low, skimmed the cord and bounced just inside the line. On the other side, Kenny saw her return in good time, too, and was already racing across the court. He got to it in time and, whipping his hand across the ball, drove it down the line to her backhand. Shirlyn rushed for it and slicing it powerfully, put it over the net in a controlled drop-shot and followed it by racing to the net.
Her opponent raced to the ball, tried to scoop it over the net. It caught the top cord and fell back on his side of the net. Shirlyn whooped in delight and flung her racquet in the air, jumping up and down, laughing and grinning. Kenny laughed, gasping and panting, and offered his hand. She pumped it eagerly.
"I can't believe it! I just can't believe it! I beat you! Three sets to two!"
"Congratulations, Shir. Great game. You've gotten much, much better."
"Thanks for teaching me, Kenny."
"You learn very quickly."
"I have a great teacher."
"Thanks. But next time we play, I wont let you win like I did today. Then let's see if you can beat me!"
"Let me win, did you? I had you all over the place. Just wait. Next time, I'll *crush* you!" she wrinkled her nose prettily, stuck her tongue at him. "Just watch!"
"Return match promise? Tomorrow?"
"Oh yes. Tomorrow, day after, whenever."
"My, my, someone's becoming really arrogant."
"Just kidding, love," she said softly, laughing and making him grin.
They walked to the benches at the far end of the court to collect their kit.
Shirlyn sat on the slatted wooden bench and bent over to open her sports bag. She was wearing a fine white T-shirt with a collar and three buttons and a handsome, short, white pleated skirt. Her hair was braided and coiled, held with a thick Turkish towel hair-ring. She wore wristbands, thick socks and expensive tennis shoes Sheila had got for her.
She had not buttoned her T-shirt. Her legs were bare high up her thighs and Kenny noted that they were firm and trim and supple. As she bent over, the lapels of her T-shirt swung low and he saw the luscious swell of her breasts, her long gold necklace glistening on her honey skin, nestling in her deep and inviting cleavage.
She wore a pretty brassiere, cut fine and thin, that seemed to only just cover her nipples. He ogled her unabashedly, enjoying the sight. He noticed a sexy little dark beauty spot on the inside of her left breast.
Shirlyn knew that he was watching her and, for a minute, thrilled with excitement. Perhaps, after all, things would work out soon. She dawdled, rummaging pointlessly in her bag. Finally, she straightened, pulling out her zip-up full-sleeved sweat-shirt. The T-shirt was damp with sweat and he could clearly see the sharp stubs of her nipples and the dark shadows of her aureoles.
She slipped into the sweat-shirt and he watched her breasts move. Zipping it up to just below her breasts, she rose and collected a towel from the rack. He took one too, and they rubbed themselves dry. Kenny retrieved his sweat-shirt and zipped it up. They hoisted their kit bags and walked home.
There was no one else in. He opened the door of the flat with a latch key and they dumped their kit bags in their rooms. They returned from their rooms to the hall. He selected a tape and slotted it into the stereo. Bright pop music pulsed through the speakers mounted at the corners of the room.
He sat down in a rocking chair and, kicking off his shoes and tugging off his socks, perched his feet on a footstool. Shirlyn grinned at him, lowered the volume slightly so they could converse, and perched on the low wicker stool by the coffee table. She, too, was now barefoot. She sat casually, her legs spread, one foot crossed over the other.
It was an unusual position for a woman, but Shirlyn tended to do things like this, without a hint of being self-conscious. Kenny couldn't help noticing that her skirt had slid up to her thighs, almost to her crotch. She noticed his gaze and smiled inwardly, making no attempt to adjust her clothing. He could see the white flash of her panties.
They chatted and she leaned forward on her elbows and the lapels of her sweat-shirt and T-shirt swung low again, giving him another glimpse of her splendid breasts. The neck of the T-shirt pulled to one side and he could see the thick gold necklace against her skin, curving sexily over the hollow in her collarbone. Her skin was smooth and clear, soft, yet firm, silky, like a ripe gbang.
Shirlyn felt his eyes on her and waited for him to make a move. He did nothing. She sighed to herself and discreetly lifted her skirt higher, bent lower, giving him a better look at her crotch and breasts. Still he did nothing.
"My god, it's hot," she said. "Look at us both sitting under this fan and still sweating!"
"Yeah. And it's the humidity that gets you."
"Shall I get you a towel?"
"Yes, please."
She smiled and got up and went into her bathroom.
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