Absolute Devotion Ch. 02

It felt bad to cheer for someone who was absolutely routing their opponent. The poor girl Erica was destroying on the court looked upset and like she had completely given up on even trying. Erica aced her next serve and her opponent threw down her racket in disgust. She walked over to the line judge and talked to him for a minute before it was announced that she was conceding the match.

Erica walked off the court after glaring angrily at me. She went into the clubhouse and emerged wearing sweatpants. As she came up into the stands towards me, I could tell that she was upset with me.

"I asked you to come here and cheer for me," she said. "I didn't hear you cheer ONCE."

"But you were killing that poor girl," I whined. "It didn't seem right."

"I asked you to come here and CHEER for me, monkey boy. When I ask you to do something, you do it. Now I have to punish you. See these sweatpants? Unless you start behaving yourself you will never see my legs again. Now, take me back to your motel room."

"Yes, Erica," I said, looking down at the ground, my erection still very much present. I didn't know why she wanted to come to my motel room, but I was not going to disobey her again.

She told me to open my laptop and turn it on. I did exactly as she asked and she took it away from me. She found the picture of her foot, which was still open on the big screen, and deleted it from my files.

"Are there any other copies?" she asked after opening my email and deleting the original email and then permanently erasing the picture and the email from my computer.

"No, Erica, there aren't any other copies," I said, tears welling up in my eyes as I realized I would no longer be able to see the incredible picture of her gorgeous foot.

"I got your letter today. I'm impressed you got it to me so quickly," she said. "Get on your knees in front of me, monkey boy."

I knelt down quietly in front of her and stared down at the floor, trying to hide my tears.

"I want you to write me another one and I better get it when I check my post office box. The first one was so beautiful, showed so much heart and soul that if it came from a real man I might be tempted to run away with him."

"I know you would never run away with me, Erica. I'm not worthy of your love."

"Tomorrow I'm playing another match and I expect you to be there and you better be cheering me this time," she said.

"Yes, Erica."

"From now on I want you to call me Miss Erica, okay?"

"Yes, Miss Erica," I said, still staring at the floor.

"I'm going to leave now, but when I close that door behind me I'm going to stand out there for a few minutes. I better hear you jacking off and calling out my name or I will be very upset."

I don't know if she really waited outside the door or not. She never came back and I never heard or saw her out there, but if she did, I know she would have liked what she heard. I lubricated myself with a special lotion I'd gotten that was designed specifically as a sexual lubricant and began masturbating immediately. I called out her name loudly and continuously, making statements like "I love you Miss Erica" and "Miss Erica is the most beautiful woman in the world" and "I am masturbating for you, Miss Erica."

I grieved the loss of the picture of Erica's foot more than I grieved the loss of any girlfriend I'd ever had. I was upset at myself for letting her down and disappointing her by not cheering for her during her lopsided tennis match. I was determined to make it up to her.

I went to the store and bought several sheets of poster board paper, the kind used to make the kind of placards and signs held up at sporting events. On one I wrote "I love Miss Erica" with a big red heart in place of the word "love." On another I wrote "Miss Erica rocks" and on another I wrote "Kill her Miss Erica."

I then went to the mall where I knew there was a store that made custom t-shirts. I had them make one that said "Miss Erica's #1 Fan" in big letters with hearts surrounding the words. I spent the rest of the night masturbating over and over again while thinking about her and imagining her forgiving me and letting me kiss her beautiful feet.

The next day I continued masturbating while thinking about her. I was tempted to look for other pictures of women's feet on the web, but resisted the temptation because I didn't want to think about or look at any woman other than Erica. When the time came to get ready to go to her tennis match, I put on my special new t-shirt, rolled up my signs, and drove to the tennis club.

She didn't come up to the stands to see me, but when I finally saw her, walking across the court in her pink tennis shorts, my heart started beating rapidly. I could see the muscles in her thighs and calves flex and relax with every stride she took, the perfect lines of her gorgeous legs shining in the sunlight, and my breathing got so heavy that a woman sitting in the stands came over to me and asked, "Are you okay?"

I just nodded quietly. There were more people in the stands than there had been the other day. It was the second round of the tournament and would be more competitive.

At last, Erica's match was beginning. Her opponent looked strong. She was a tall woman who looked like she worked out regularly and had biceps like iron and very muscular legs. I found myself worried that she would destroy my beloved Erica, who was strong but undeniably feminine in the traditional sense.

As Erica prepared to serve to begin the match, I held up my first sign, the one that said "I heart Miss Erica." She did not look in my direction, but some of the people in the stands began looking at me funny. Erica served and there was a lengthy volley before Erica's opponent hit her return out of bounds and the point was awarded to my beloved.

I got up on my feet and cheered loudly. I continued to cheer every time Erica scored a point and I booed whenever her opponent won a point. Erica narrowly won the first set and after she did, I held up the sign that said "Miss Erica Rocks!" and yelled out the phrase as I did so.

She didn't look at me at all during the match, and after she lost the second set, forcing a deciding third set, I held up the "Kill her Miss Erica" sign and yelled out "You can do it Miss Erica! You can do it!"

She didn't look at me, but I could see a smile come across her face that I was sure came as a result of my actions. It warmed my heart and I began feeling good about myself again. I continued to cheer her on, my erection nearly bursting in my pants as I kept looking at her legs and how wonderfully they moved with grace and precision around the court.

During the third set, a man who worked for the tennis club came over to me and told me I needed to "tone it down" or I would have to leave. I told him I was there to cheer for my girl and he told me that I was upsetting the other people in the stands. I agreed to tone it down, but I continued to cheer, just not as loudly or obnoxiously.

Erica won the final set and the match and I rose up and clapped and cheered wildly. People had moved away from me in the stands, but I ignored them. All I cared about was Erica and making her happy with me again.

After the match ended, I waited in the stands, hoping Erica would come and see me. She didn't, and I left the tennis club feeling very disappointed and sad. She hadn't forgiven me. I needed to do more.

When I got home there was an email from the account Erica used to send me the picture of her foot. There was a picture of a pair of strappy high heel shoes, probably taken from a catalog, and a message that said, "Would you like to see me in these?"

I wrote back, "Yes, Miss Erica, I would like to see you in those shoes very much."

"I play in the third round tomorrow at 7pm. Bring your signs and wear your t-shirt. Get yourself off in the stands while I'm playing."

I stared at the message with my mouth open and my eyes widened. I couldn't possibly honor her request. I would get arrested, or worse. I tried to convince myself she was kidding.

When I didn't respond after ten minutes, Erica sent a follow up message.

"Find a way. Don't let me down. XOXOXO."

I wrote back, "I will, Miss Erica, I promise. I love you always and forever."