Training Technique

"Please...don't..."

Even as she said it the position of her hand on my head shifted ever so subtlety. It could have been interpreted as a signal to stop or perhaps something else...

Undaunted, I moved lower still so that I was licking at the base of her sex and was rewarded with the first hint of wetness.

I knew then that it was only a matter of time. Having forced my blade between the tight clams of the oyster I slowly built on my advantage and gently eased it open.

There could be no doubt now. Her hand had found its way to the back of my head and her inner lips swelled to embrace my invading tongue. I responded by licking up and down the whole length of her sex, which was now open to my assault, and my prize was a warm creamy offering which I lapped up with an involuntary groan.

I could sense her frustration now. The pants around her ankles were an encumbrance; she wanted to open herself to me but was fearful of losing her balance. I could not stop now and so I held her more firmly to me as I began to work her interior moisture up over her neat clitoris.

Her scent, at first so subtle, was now all pervading and her taste took on an ever increasing richness. I thought I could use these signs to gauge her but her climax seemed to take us both by surprise. Her body rocked back and forth from the hips in an almost bizarre parody of a man being fellated and in her attempt to hold me in she only succeeded in turning my head sideways so that my cheek was smeared with her sap.

As it came to a finish she held me there, clamped tight, as though she did not want to face the reality of what had just taken place. In the end I had to ease myself up from what was an awkward, cramping, position and I used the towel to clean myself up as best I could.

I turned my attention back to Katya who was standing head down, unsteady on her feet, as she tried to breathe normally again and I knew I had to break the ice.

"Would you like to use my shower?"

She looked up at me, her eyes still slightly glazed, and gave an indecisive nod. She teetered the short distance to the armchair and sat down on it awkwardly. She kicked off her slip-on trainers without using her hands and then divested herself of her jogging bottoms.

She looked across to the shower room as though the effort of reaching it was going to be too great and then she looked back at me. In the next few seconds she regained her composure and any sense of uncertainty was dispelled. With calm deliberation she dipped her finger into the cold pool of chocolate on the table top and then, opening her legs, she drew a trail on her inner thigh.

"I think you missed some."

I should have been angry that this erstwhile, reluctant, ingénue now had the temerity to act so suggestively but I was, once again, caught in the grip of an inexplicable hunger. I suppose that, in turning my head away, she had somehow denied me but that could not excuse my aberrant behaviour.

Like a somnambulist I moved forward and I sank slowly to my knees. Putting my tongue to her thigh I followed the sweet, dark, track until I reached her finger which had paused whilst she waited for me to catch up - as she knew I inevitably would.

Now her finger moved on and, like a slave girl on an invisible tether, I was drawn with her. She led me slowly across the shallow declivity at the top of her thigh and then upwards onto her mons where the taste became more bitter as it combined with the residue of her first climax.

It was hard to believe that she had been so unyielding as she now pushed her finger between her labia with a loud squelch and then twisted it slowly back and forth. When she withdrew it the chocolate had helped to form an oily coating and, after a moments pause, she fed it to me.

I sucked her finger deep into my mouth and cleaned it with my tongue but now I wanted the real, unadulterated, taste. As if reading my mind she gently freed herself and then used both hands to make herself available.

I opened my mouth and put it to her sex plunging my tongue deep inside. There was still a slightly, unwanted, alien sweetness but it was soon overcome but the warm, earthy, taste that I craved.

She was flowing freely and as I drove my tongue as deep as it could go she lifted her hips to meet me. I was caught up in a madness and I slipped my arms under her thighs to get my hands on her tight globes so that she could not escape. Her second orgasm was not long in coming and as she exploded I sucked it from her.

She collapsed exhausted, unmindful of the fact that she was pinning my arms, and I was kept captive just inches from her sex, as she slowly came back to her senses.

Finally, we peeled ourselves apart, a little clumsily, and this time she did avail herself of the bathroom.

I lay on the bed, listening to the shower running, willing her to hurry up. It was getting late and I had to be up at six to catch the coach to the competition arena. At some point I must have drifted off because when I opened my eyes Katya was lying beside me fast asleep and totally naked.

I should have woken her, told her to go, but she looked beautiful in the darkness and she had her arm around my neck in a gesture that I found comforting. I must have smelt rank but she did not seem to mind as she sleepily brought her face closer to mine.

I surrendered to sleep and uneasy dreams only to be woken by an insistent pressure. I opened my eyes and it took a second or two to remember that Katya had not left. We were on our sides facing one another but I had, somehow, moved down the bed a little. My face was level with her breasts and a hand at the back of my head was coaxing me.

I glanced up but she still appeared to be asleep and the slow rise and fall of her breast was almost mesmeric. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to slowly take her nipple between my lips and to tease it with my tongue. Feeling it distend I drew lazy circles and began to explore the raised dimples of her areolae.

Throughout this her breathing remained steady and sleepy but then she groaned and moved a little making me feel that I had imposed myself. For a second I was almost petulant as she pulled herself away but, as she rearranged herself, she drew up her knees so that she was curled almost foetally and I found my face pressed against her stomach.

I waited for her to settle once more before easing away but she shifted once again. This time she arched her back, moving her upper body away from me, but at the same time her pelvis was thrust forward bringing her sex level with my mouth.

She had used my shower gel and her skin was redolent of jasmine but also present, unmistakably, was a deeper undertone which suggested that, asleep or not, I had had an effect on her.

For a second or two I was tempted but I had to get some sleep. With resignation I pecked the gentlest of kisses on her sweet labia only to hear a deep sigh. She was still asleep, I was sure of it, but as I slowly backed away her body stretched and she moved with me her sex opening very slightly in the process,

The light from the window was reflected from a single dew drop which lay quivering just where I had kissed and, without thought, I collected it on the tip of my tongue.

It was my undoing. I remained there lapping in the darkness slowly and gently, a gossamer touch, which made her sex melt.

I was lost in time but it must have been at least an hour later before she shuddered into a slow, dreamy, orgasm and even then I licked on until she had nothing left to give.

Later I was awoken by the piercing shriek of the alarm clock and it took me seconds to orientate myself.

Katya was gone, my head pounded, and my mouth felt thick and cloying. I struggled to the shower and then rushed breakfast before dashing for the coach. As I boarded I avoided Katya's eye and sat by myself at the back.

Fortunately my opening match was late on court and I mainlined coffee to bring myself around. By mid morning I was feeling a little better but my confidence took a knock as I watched a clearly under par Katya lose to a rank outsider.

When my own match was called I went on to court nervously. This was an opponent that had never beaten me but in the early stages I was making elementary mistakes and I lost the first game cheaply. I fought back in the second winning a closely contested game and then went on to win the third but I knew that I had expended too much energy this early in the tournament.

As I came off court Larina was there smirking at me.

"Too much bed, not enough sleep?"

I tried not to let the jibe get to me but I began to wonder if she knew and then, with my thoughts taking an even darker turn, I began to consider the possibility that I had been set up.

Over the next few days I let my anger feed me and I powered my way through to the semis.

In a reversal of the Dutch open I was to meet the world number one whilst Larina was drawn against the world number two. Having already beaten my opponent so recently I was optimistic but I was further encouraged when Agnetha handed me a revised dossier which anticipated the tactics the Malaysian might adopt in light of her defeat.

I was still feeling good about things the next morning when the bombshell dropped. Larina had strained a thigh muscle and she could not compete. This would give her opponent a bye but, more importantly, an extra days rest. Even if I got though the semi, which was going to be tough, my chances in the final were slim.

I tried not to let it prey on my mind as I went onto court but in an odd way it spurred me on. For me, this was now the final; if I beat the number one in consecutive matches the world would take notice.

In the event the match was an epic. Games one and two both went to tie breaks leaving us at one game all but in the third I felt my energy draining. I gave away easy points and thought it was slipping through my fingers but, at the turn round, I caught sight of the dossier in my bag.

I remembered Anegtha's prediction that, as the match went on, my opponent would play to my backhand. Apparently, as I tired, I tended to hold the racket just a little lower and lofted the shuttle more often.

I focused on this and made myself ready. Sure enough, she started to drive to my backhand at every opportunity and then positioned herself for the loft but three times in a row I caught her out with a short cross court. The scores were level and it was now her turn to make mistakes.

Knowing that I stood little chance in the final I gave everything I had and after playing one final, winning, smash I collapsed to my knees.

I accepted the congratulations in a blur but managed to pick out my mum and dad in the crowd before heading to the dressing room.

As I did so I heard applause from the number two court and curiosity drew me over. To my astonishment I saw Larina warming up with her thigh heavily strapped. I sought out Agnetha in the stand.

"She shouldn't be playing."

Agnetha turned towards me.

"I asked her to."

"But she doesn't stand a chance."

"She knows that."

And then the light dawned. She was going to at least make her opponent work so that I stood a chance in the final.

The match took less than forty minutes and the strain showed on Larina's face from the start but she made the other girl run. She could not get her balance right to hit power shots but she could play the shuttle around the court keeping her opponent moving until, inevitably, she was herself outplayed.

As she came off court I was the first to greet her.

"Thank you."

"You owe me one, and I intend to collect".

By rights I should have lost the final the next day but spurred on by Larina's sacrifice I played beyond my normal limits and I won my second championship in a row.

Players and parents gathered afterwards in a local fish restaurant and I was pleased when my win was treated as a success for the whole team rather than just a personal triumph.. My own parents, at first suspicious of Agnetha's methods, now showered her with praise but loudest of all was Elise, Larina's mother; fuelled by just a little too much Sancerre she, quite rightfully, trumpeted Larina's part in my victory,.

I knew that Elise was a single parent, a woman in her mid-forties who had put her own career on hold in order to further her daughter's ambitions, and they seemed to share the same determined spirit.

In fact, they could have been taken for sisters. Elise looked young for her years and, whilst she carried a few extra pounds, her well cut clothes did enough to compensate. They were also alike facially, sharing the same Scandinavian features; the only major difference was in the colour of their eyes. Larina had the blue eyes common to the population but Elise's were a deep brown which she accentuated with burnished gold highlights in her blonde hair.

In theory I should have shared the national team hotel but, in practice, we formed a team of our own and we returned to our own hotel, booked by Agnetha, for a final drink. Elise was still loudly holding court as my parents finally said their goodnights and went up to their room and, after a decent interval, I followed suite.

All the girls gave me one last congratulatory kiss but as Larina pecked my cheek she whispered in my ear.

"My room...half an hour."

I could have simply ignored her but I had done some hard thinking in the run up to the tournament. There was no doubt that I was bi-sexual to a degree but I was prepared to allow the possibility that the lesbian part of me might, in fact, be the dominant trait. In order to explore further I needed to bring to an end the perverted form of Sapphic indulgence that I had already engaged in and to allow for some form of meaningful two way relationship.

I was still not sure whether or not Larina was an out and out lesbian but, even if she was, I was not attracted to her in any emotional sense and I was now determined to make this clear to her.

Armed with this resolve I made my way to her room and knocked confidently on the door.

"Come in. It's not locked."

I walked into a room which was the mirror image of my own but then realized it was the wrong one. Reclining on the bed dressed only in a brief, diaphanous, nightie was not Larina but her mother.

"I'm dreadfully sorry. I thought his was Larina's room."

"It was, but we swapped. My room had twin beds, this one had a double. We'll be more comfortable here."

I looked at her literally open mouthed as the implication of what she had just said sunk in. Finally, gathering my wits, I tried to put things straight.

"I think there's been a misunderstanding."

"Oh, I don't think so. You see, Larina has told me about your scheme of forfeits and I am sure we are agreed that you are in her debt. Let's just say that she has assigned your indebtedness over to me."

It was too much to take in. Her knowledge suggested an unnatural and frightening candidness between mother and daughter. Shock kept me rooted to the spot and she made the most of her advantage.

As I watched she raised her knees and slowly allowed her legs to fall apart. Unlike her daughter she allowed her pubic hair to flourish and protruding from the blonde thicket was the base of an ivory coloured vibrator.

"I've been warming myself up but I understand you are worth the wait."

In the ensuing silence the loudest sound in the room was a dull insistent hum which slowly rose in tone as the vibrator, at first imperceptibly, but then more obviously, began to slip free until it lay on the bed between her legs in a noisy frenzy.

Her eyes did not leave mine as she slowly picked it up and switched it off before turning it slowly so that its shiny wet surface caught the light.

"Come and clean it for me..."

The suggestion was outrageous, disgusting, but it flicked a switch somewhere in my perverted psyche. I approached the foot of the bed and then crawled towards her as she held it out towards me only to draw it away as I got closer. I followed slavishly until she held it against her mons like a faux erection and then I began to lick.

I guess that it was down to pheromones because the taste was Larina. I now knew that the taste of a women was fundamentally the same but there subtle nuances, determined by a variety of factors, and in this case there was a family resemblance.

"Good girl, but you can do better than that."

She lowered the vibrator just a little and, rising to the challenge, I took it deep into my mouth. For I few seconds I sucked on it greedily but I was soon experiencing the sterile, chemical, taste of plastic.

I tried to pull away but she was amused at my display and she put a hand to the back of my head whilst at the same time raising her hips. I thought that I would gag but she bucked herself playfully until I withdrew with a sudden wrench.

"Oh, I'm sorry baby. I guess you're anxious for the main course."

I was more angry than anxious but, as she put the vibrator aside, I was left looking at her sex which was already hot, wet and relaxed. Her labia were loose, thick, folds which suggested maturity and I got a sense that she had, over time, made the most of her single status.

As I stared I tried desperately to pull myself away. It was not that she was a woman, that particular barrier was well breached, nor her age but simply the fact that it felt, somehow, incestuous. It just felt so wrong, given what had passed between Larina and 1, to now be engaged with her mother.

Elise waited patiently, as though she could read my thoughts, and then, in a further display of prescience, she used her fingers to gently peel herself open.

I could now see her clitoris; a plump, tight-skinned, succulent berry and at the same time my nostrils were assailed by a strong waft of scent from deep within.

I could no longer resist. I dropped on her like a bird of prey. In one movement I pressed my tongue inside her and, at the same time, I nuzzled her clitoris with my nose.

"My, my, aren't you the greedy one."

She was surprisingly tight, and I had to work hard to penetrate the tight sheath of muscle, but my reward was the rich pool of sap that I encountered at the bottom of the well.

I used my tongue like a hummingbird, enjoying the taste on the very tip, whilst at the same time she squeezed at me displaying remarkable control.

I could not last long with my tongue almost painfully stretched but she was in tune with me and the squeezing intensified as she quickly worked herself to an initial climax. As it broke my tongue was expelled but I licked slowly along her labia as her body shuddered to a finish.

No words were spoken. We both knew that my job was not yet done and for next few minutes I continued to minister to her as she came off of her first high and prepared herself for a second ascent.

"I'm ready babe. Do my clit."

I shifted myself slightly so that I could give all my attention to this particular treat. At first touch she shivered and then I began a languid oral assault. I licked in circles pausing now again to suck it delicately between my lips.

She groaned from time to time and whispered encouragement and particularly so as I licked at the taut collar of the retracted hood. Having discovered her preference I began to tease her and very soon she was pleading with me to take her over the edge but this new found power was thrilling and I found that the more I denied her the greater my own arousal.

This went on for some minutes until I finally relented and did as she asked. Her body stiffened and then shook and it was as if she were dancing with pleasure on the tip of my tongue. She managed to stretch it out until her body could take no more but, even as she began to relax, I began a renewed attack.

"No more..."