So I got a bit carried away watching the tennis this morning and, in the spirit of continuing my experiment with putting secret thoughts into documented words, thought I’d try writing some fiction again. I’m not sure what I think of it now it’s done but I certainly enjoyed writing it so let me know what you think. Always keen for constructive criticism!

She knew that he was not thinking about her at all. For the next few hours, he was not thinking about her and she was not allowed to remind him. She looked over at the score board – first set…there was a long way to go. Watching him play was both pleasure and torture – she could admire him in a way that he did not usually allow, but she could not distract him or touch him until he was ready. Right now, she did not exist to him at all.

From her seat, high in the stands, he was a small figure far below her but she knew his body so well that she could still see the shape of his muscles with every movement. His thighs stretching as he sprinted around the court, legs pounding and lungs burning. She imagined the sweat running down his back, between his shoulder blades, and found her own pulse racing as if she was the one working. The tendons of his arms stood out in cords as he swung his racket back and powered the ball forward, landing it perfectly inside the baseline. His control took her breath away.

She shifted in her seat and pressed her thighs together. Damn, he looked hot. As he crouched at the service line, she wished she could stand behind him and run her hands over the backs of his legs and firm arse, so perfectly emphasised by his shorts. His hands flexed and clenched around the racket handle as he waited for the ball. She knew the power of those hands and felt her insides twitch as she remembered what they could do to her.

The match progressed but she had to concentrate to follow the score, her mind struggling to maintain focus. Oh yes, this was why he never thought of her while he was playing. His exclamations of frustration and satisfaction caused her to bite her lip to suppress matching moans of pleasure as she dreamed of what she would do to make him shout like that.

Final set…not much longer. Soon it would be her time. His body would be exhausted and broken, but she knew that this was when he needed her most.

Exhaling a ragged breath, she typed him a short message and pressed send.
‘Don’t change. Don’t shower.’

She left the court before the end. Once it was over, he would look for her and she didn’t want to be found. She went home and waited for him. The post-match formalities took their time but she knew he wouldn’t be long.

When he finally arrived, she was sat in an armchair in the corner. She was still wearing the yellow sun dress that she had worn to the match, but had taken off her shoes and was rubbing her toes into the carpet, the only sign of her frustration at having to wait. As requested, he was still wearing his sports kit and had his bag thrown over his shoulder. He placed the bag in the corner of the room and strode confidently towards her. His eyes glittered with the residual adrenaline of the match and he seemed to vibrant with energy. She held up a hand to stop him in the middle of the room.

‘Sorry it took so long…I…’ he began.

‘No,’ she got up and gently slapped him on the stomach, ‘you don’t get to speak now.’

He smiled defiantly. Reaching out, he grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him, kissing her fiercely and forcing his tongue deep into her mouth. Quickly regaining control of herself and shaking her head, she stepped back.

‘You’re really trying to push me, aren’t you?’ She smiled. ‘That’s not how this is going to happen today, you know that. Today, you do everything that I tell you…and nothing that you have not been given permission to do.’ She paused. ‘And that includes coming – you wait, you don’t come until I tell you. OK?’

He took a deep, shaky breath and nodded.

‘Good. Now take off your clothes.’

He began to peel off his kit. First his shirt, then the sweatbands surrounding his wrists. As he bent over to remove his shoes, he gasped as his match-weary muscles began to complain and he realised how exhausted he was. His shorts and underwear were next to go, and soon he was standing naked before her. God, he was magnificent. His cock was already erect and she involuntarily licked her lips at the sight of it.

She walked around him, trailing her fingers across his body. Shoulders, arms, back, arse…sweat had dried to leave his skin salty, and she licked his shoulder to taste his exertion. The touch of her tongue caused his legs to buckle slightly and he swayed to maintain balance. Smiling at the effect she had on him, she began to feather kisses across his back. His breathing became shorter and the hairs on his arms stood on end. Without thinking, he reached down and began to stroke his cock.

Immediately, she stopped and slapped his hands away.

‘Come on now,’ she taunted. ‘If you carry on like that, I’m just going to leave.’

Guiltily, he let go and put his arms back by his sides. She knew that the adrenaline keeping him going would not last much longer. She led him over to the bed and lay him down on his stomach. She covered her hands in oil and began to massage his shoulders and back. He moaned as he realised that she wasn’t wearing underwear beneath her dress, her secret betrayed as she sat astride him by how wet she had become. Stretching to rub the tension out of his arms, she rocked her hips gently and pushed herself against his back. He struggled to turn over and take her in his arms, but she pushed him back down.

‘You are going to lie still and let me work,’ she whispered into his ear. Her hair tickled the back of his neck and he shuddered. She ran her fingernails down his back, laughing at how he jerked at her touch. ‘Lie still!’

Slowly and systematically, she worked down his body, manipulating all of his muscle groups to knead out the soreness and strain of the match. He groaned with pain as she pressed aches and gasped as she followed the work of her fingers with light kisses and bites. She felt him relax and give into her as she moved down. Once she reached as far down as his lower back, a different kind of tension grew within him. He began to twitch under her, and his breathing became harder and faster again.

Slapping against his side, she encouraged him to turn over. His cock was hard and he quivered as she stroked him up and down. Slowly, she slid herself down on top on him, allowing him to fill her completely. His arms moved up to hold her thighs and she smacked them back down.

‘How many times do I have to tell you to stay still?’ she panted, ‘You just get to watch. You’ve worked hard enough today.’

His eyes widened as he lay back, looking up to her above him. Licking her fingers, she reached down and began to touch herself, playing with her clit and rubbing herself harder as she moved on top of him. She moaned with delight as his hips bucked beneath her to force himself deeper. She knew she should have punished him for disobeying her again but it felt too good to tell him to stop now.

As she got closer to the edge, she could feel him trembling beneath her as he struggled not to come himself.
‘Please…I can’t…’ he groaned.

She leant over and bit down on his ear lobe, eliciting another delicious shudder from him. ‘OK’ she whispered, ‘you can come now.’

Sitting back upright, she began to move faster, gripping his cock inside her as she rode up and down. The sounds of pleasure that he made as he finally gave in were enough to tip her over, and she came, her cunt spasming around him and prolonging his orgasm.

Immediately, his eyelids began to flicker as exhaustion finally won. He was asleep before she had even lifted herself off, and she tried not to disturb him as she settled down next to him. He stretched his tired limbs and rolled towards her, holding her in his arms and breathing softly into her hair. She knew that he would sleep for at least 12 hours now…