Fantasy Sex versus Reality Tennis

As a tennis player John Tipton was a long shot from being a gifted athlete. He was, as they say, "small but slow." He was also a generation older than many of his competitors. And yet among the hundreds of amateur tennis players in his mid-sized Midwestern city, he was considered an excellent tennis partner in doubles tournaments and somehow he managed to win more than his share of singles trophies. Lets get into his mind to see how he does it.

"People that know tennis say you lack quickness and have at best an average baseline game John, what's the secret to your success?"

"Concentration."

"John, it can't be all that simple!"

"Well.... no. I mean focusing on the game totally isn't all that easy. I think tennis is a mind game. Within reason of talent levels it really is mind over matter. Psych is a big part of it. Outthinking, then dominating your opponent."

"How do you do that John?"

"I'll use the serving game as an example. Every match has a few key moments. Turning points as it were. That moment or moments when the game is on the line. First of all you have to recognize those moments. Then take charge.

"So how does the mind help you make this moment turn in your favor?"

"Even the best pro players can't serve aces all the time. You know. An ace is where you make a serve and the opponent not only can't return it but it goes untouched. For me that's a flat trajectory, super powerful, shot down the center line that takes control of the game."

"Can you describe the mind part of these shots John?"

"Well the first thing is to realize just what it takes for anyone, but especially a slightly out of shape middle-aged duffer, to be able to hit these kind of shots. For one thing they take so much concentration and energy they need to be used sparingly throughout the match. At those momentum turning points, as I mentioned."

"So what does go through your mind at those moments."

"Fucking women."

"Your kidding. You mean women in general not really....?

"I mean fucking them. Particular ones. Slamming my cock into their pussies."

"That hardly seems a way to concentrate one's thoughts on hitting a tennis ball, John."

"It works for me. I'll show you how."

"I'm all ears, John. The tennis part that is."

"I'm toeing the line. I need this shot. An ace. My opponent is relaxed into a pattern of returning my forehand slice serve. Sometimes on a weak return I rush the net. Not now. This serve he won't touch. As I toss the ball in the air it must be perfectly straight and just the right height. My right arm is totally extended. I need to feel my racket over the top of the ball. Bring it down hard. Total concentration now. I think about Sally.

She works in the office. Red hair, married with two kids. Nice perky tits. Her legs are spread. I'm poised to enter her. I must extend. Get over the top of the ball. Total concentration. Thrust hard. Ooomph. Exhale. Relax. Another ace."

"You have a thing for the office help, do you John?"

"No I have a thing for the perfect serve at the right time. Sally is just a friend. We don't really do sex you know."

"Is it always Sally?"

"By no means. Marie is a big help."

"You mean the Middle School English teacher at Folwell?"

"That's the one. I was thinking about the short short skirts she wears to the faculty meeting's between games. Then it was match point and I needed a winner. She is bent over her desk with her dress bunch about her hips and her panties on the floor. I see her puffy lips as I toss the ball. Arms extended. Come over the top of the ball hard. Uhhh. I come hard. She cums hard. Another winner. The guy across the net looks surprised. If he only knew. Marie is his wife.

"I remember the doubles tournament at the Club last year, John. You hit four aces in a row to win that match. Do you remember who helped you win that one?"

" I sure do. That was unusual for me to sustain that many aces in a single game. There were special circumstances for that one."

"Maggie Fillson did it. Really. You know the loan officer. She is a big tease. She had been coming on to me all spring. The day of the tournament she came over to my office wearing some sort of a lightly-flowered blouse with two buttons on open at the top. I don't even remember what she said she wanted but when I said I had to get going to the club for a big match she leaned over the front of my desk and their they were. I could see all white but for two brownish pink nipples that were hard as rock."

Three hour later I was up 5-4 but really getting tired. My opponent was a young kid with a powerful backhand. It was now or never. My turn to serve.

The door to my office is locked and lights are out. Maggie is sitting naked on my desk. I toe the line. Concentrate. She leans forward clasping my cock between her breasts. Ball up. Jerk forward hard shooting the ball straight down the center line. She smiles with her cum covered face.

Five love. I need an ace to his backhand side. Maggie waits. Take my cock in her mouth. Ball up. Over the top. Bring the racket down as hard as you can. Uumph. He hit it back weakly. I'm at the net for the finisher. Got it. Thanks Maggie.

Thirty love. He is cheating to the center line. Do I dare use my slice? Maggie. She nods and lays back. Legs spread. Eyes inviting. Concentrate. Ball's up. Concentrate. Hard slice. He can't reach it.

One more I win. Gasping for breath. Looking over into the stands. There she is with my wife. Jeannie, the woman next door. The girl of my dreams. I always save her for those moments of absolute desperation. I think I've got only one good shot left. Concentrate. Ball up. Over the top.

Game. Set. Match!