Forty-Love

"You're doing great, sweetie!" Minerva waved to her daughter from across their side of the court, "She's got them old lady reactions though, so don't go too hard on her!"

"D--don't be like that, Mom..." Justine smiled nervously, refusing to make eye contact with Minerva, "It's just like... a parlor trick. Everyone falls for it once..."

Elaine's expression mirrored Justine's. Though Anabel wore a warm smile, the look in her eyes was downright wrathful, and that made both daughters very nervous. Their mothers were clearly taking this far more seriously than they were. What's more, Minerva's antagonizing remarks were clearly finding purchase, adding extra powder to this already overfilled keg.

"Justine, dear?" Anabel called across the court.

"Y-Yes, Ms. Descoteaux?" Justine called back.

"Doctor," Anabel corrected.

"D-Doctor Descoteaux, my bad..." Justine apologized, "Wh--... I mean... what did you--"

"I have a suspicion, dear. That you're planning to 'accidentally' give me a sub-par serve. To take it easy on me, as it were..." Anabel loosened her white-knuckled grip on her racket, exhaling softly to re-center herself. The look on her face hadn't lost an ounce of its original intensity, however, "That would frustrate me. Quite a bit. You understand, dear?"

Justine swallowed hard and nodded. They used different words, and their outward personalities couldn't be further from each other... but suddenly Justine completely understood why Anabel and her mother had been so close for so long. Because the look on Anabel's face was very familiar. It told Justine that she would accept no handicap.

"You heard her! She asked for it, J!" Minerva cheered, "Serve this old bat up a few more aces. The sooner we're done using her tennis balls, the sooner she can put them on her walker where they belong."

"Still ever the joker, Minnie..." Anabel laughed with a shake of her head and looked to Justine, "Come now, girl. We haven't all day."

• • •

Anabel dived for the return, merely grazing the ball with her racket. The fuzzy little ball flew up and bounced off of the empty umpire's chair, landing squarely back in their court. Set point--McVie.

After she failed to return Justine's initial serves, the set had more or less devolved into an awkwardly paced singles match. Anabel wished to prove that she could consistently return Justine's surgically precise serves, and as such had given Elaine a rather wilting look every time she had tried to assist.

To her credit, Anabel had managed to return a fair few... but she simply didn't have the speed to both react and put herself in a position to return much of the time. The individual games were never blowouts, but before long, the McVies had captured set point before the Descoteauxs had managed to capture even a single game.

Justine wanted to be swallowed up by the Earth. The tension on the court could've been cut with a knife. That probably had something to do with the fact that her mother hadn't stopped her snide jabs for even a second, and continued cackling at her exhausted rival's unsuccessful effort.

Anabel picked herself up off of the court. She rolled over onto her backside and leaned back on her arms, gazing up at the clouds while she tried to catch her breath. Sweat poured down her neck and ample chest as it rose and fell, her white tank top already soaked and sticking to her body. She pulled off her visor and fanned herself with it in an attempt to cool down.

Justine could feel it happening. The crackling tingle in her tummy happily sizzled like a lit fuse as it slowly traveled south, making its way to her chemically-restrained testes. Her medicine was wearing off... and now she had second thoughts regarding what she'd like to be swallowed up by.

"It's my turn to serve now, isn't it?"

Elaine called across the net for the first time, which took everyone by surprise. Her mother nodded from the ground. Elaine held her hand out for a ball--jaw clenched tight, eyes narrowed, and eyebrows furrowed.

Justine jumped a little as Elaine's icy stare turned to her, as she scrambled to fish a fresh tennis ball out of the canister. After she dropped it a few times, further embarrassing herself, Justine finally managed to pass it across the net.

"Thank you," Elaine responded with a robotic, warmth-less pleasantry.

Justine's shoulders fell. This was the reason she didn't play anymore. She didn't care if she won or lost. It was a game to her. It always had been. She didn't even practice beyond the amount that she was forced to tolerate for her mother's sake.

And that was fine... until she played against someone who it wasn't just a game for. Someone who practiced constantly and put their heart and soul into it. For someone like that, losing to her was just a never-ending cycle of confusion and frustration... and Justine couldn't help but acknowledge that it felt more than a little unfair, in a cosmic sense.

In short, playing didn't make Justine happy... and it made a lot of others very unhappy. So she quit.

Elaine set her racket and the new ball down on the ground and grabbed the hem of her baggy shirt with both hands. Justine's eyes were sucked to her midsection like a magnet as each tiny motion of her body made her abdominals ripple through her sun-tanned skin. Her lower body pulled a similar trick as she bent over to kick off her shorts, leaving her only in her leggings and a bright-orange sports bra.

The tingling had turned into a rumble, and Justine pinched her legs together in anticipation of the imminent failure of her tuck work. She could feel her heart beating faster by the second. Her medicine was fighting a losing battle. She could already feel her panties stretching uncomfortably.

Elaine picked up her equipment and shook her hair out of her face, sending a pleasant shiver down Justine's spine. Though she'd never been particularly religious, she found herself praying that Elaine wouldn't flash her that cold stare again. Her libido was rapidly becoming more and more of a problem by the second, and there was a non-zero chance that she might cream her shorts if Elaine stared her down again.

As Elaine tossed the ball skyward to serve, Justine was snapped from her daydream by the horrible realization that she couldn't move--not without flashing her leaky half-chub to a dozen sentient polo shirts, anyway. She tried to get her mother's attention, but Minerva was already poised to react and return.

"NnnYAAAAAAHHrr!"

Elaine's serve sounded like a gunshot, and the ball fired off her racket with comparable speed. Minerva moved just a little too late, and the serve bounced at the edge of her box and into the fence.

Minerva did a bit of a double take between young Elaine and the ball, eyes widened, equal parts surprised and impressed. Elaine flashed her a toothy grin, her braces shining in the bright sun.

• • •

With Anabel still catching her breath and Justine desperately fending off her libido, the match once again devolved into a mostly one-on-one affair. However, Minerva and Elaine played a much more athletic contest than their inverse pair had. While there were few aces to be found, Elaine dashed and leaped around the court with the speed of a pronghorn, and had the endurance to match.

Minerva's rally was powerful and precise, but she, unfortunately, possessed the mortal weakness of finite stamina. Elaine seemed to share no such weakness. She was a brace-faced terminator--utterly relentless. Minerva may as well have been playing against a brick wall for all the hope she had of getting the ball past her.

The second set ended in much the same way as the first--one player exhausted, another barely breaking a sweat, and their respective doubles partners standing around awkwardly like racket-wielding trees had sprung up from the court. Set Point--Descoteaux.

Minerva paced around her box, malding at the rather decisive loss she had just suffered. Justine finally managed to catch her eye and shot her mother a pleading look.

Part Three

"Time out, Annie!"

"Hm? Don't you even consider ending this on a tie, Minnie," Anabel yelled, "I know where you live!"

Though Minerva couldn't resist flashing a momentary "I told you so" smile in her daughter's direction, she didn't labor the point otherwise. She marched over to Justine and snatched her racket from her hand. After a brief inspection, she shook her head.

"I told you to loosen your strings for this court, Justine," Minerva performatively scolded.

"What? No, you di--" Justine suddenly realized her meaning as she desperately kept her legs pinned together, "Oh, right! I--... I forgot..."

"Well, hurry up!" Minerva shooed her daughter away from the court, "You remember how to do it, right?"

"Yes!" Justine blurted out, already making a beeline back to the locker room, "I'll be right back!"

...

"Fuck..." Justine cursed through her teeth, a condom wrapper held between them as she worked at freeing her cock from the uncomfortable-bordering-on-painful confines of her shorts. They didn't even make it to the ground before her hand gripped the base of her cock and rolled the rubber over.

Justine began to stroke furiously. For a few seconds, she didn't even open her eyes. Familiar fantasies and favorite porn scenes flashed through her mind, the salacious sights and sensations spurring her on. That's when she felt it. A surge traveled through her body like she had put a finger in a light socket--down her chest, through her tummy, and finally came to rest in her aching balls.

Her medicine had worn off completely... and the feeling of pop rocks crackling inside her testes told her that her problem was about to get a lot bigger.

Her conscious restraint began to fade as she started to massage her lightly swelling nuts in time with her strokes, slowly making her way onto her back as she kicked off her shorts. As the warm water from the shower flowed over her, the true culprits of this overflow of lust began to invade her usual mental movies.

"You didn't take your medicine!? Oh, god... that looks painful!" Elaine gasped in her head and revealed a duet of hypnotic handfuls from the concealment of her top, "Will this help? I mean... if you like looking..."

Another tingly explosion inside her nuts made her hips buck as the milky skin of Elaine's untanned pussy flashed into her mind.

"H--how about this? You... do like girls, right?" The fantasy Elaine blushed, spreading her pussy as she leaned back against the wall for balance, "I spend a lot of time practicing... outdoors you know... so I've got some tan lines. Please don't laugh, okay?"

Justine's tongue fell out of her head as she nodded, enticing this fantasy Elaine to continue.

"M--maybe... I don't know if it'll fit, but... you can try to put it in--Ohhh gooddd~"

Justine slammed her hips up into her grip as she fantasized about slamming balls deep into Elaine's tight hole. Elaine arched her back as she moaned, accentuating the tiny bump just below her belly button. Another surge of lust came at the sight of her cock poking a bump into Elaine's perfectly toned stomach. She thrust into her hands, stroking like mad as her fantasy cock fucked the shy athlete in every way she could imagine--and Justine grew very creative at times such as these.

Her nuts churned a final time and began to ascend.

"I--...it's probably safe, so--"

Even in Justine's lascivious fantasy, Elaine didn't have the chance to finish her sentence. Justine pushed her cock all the way in and shot it full.

Her release bloated the rubber like a latex balloon with thick, distending spurts as Justine smashed her pelvis against her fist. Only her shoulders and the tips of her toes touched the ground, her back arched in a rapturous, spasming climax. Moans echoed through the empty locker room--her restraint and shame eroded to the point of nonresistance by surging, overwhelming lust.

Justine covered her face with her off-hand, sighing heavily as she milked the last bit of runoff from her under-vein and into the dangerously bloated condom. She shook her head with an embarrassed squint in her eyes as her post-nut clarity turned her fantasy from a sizzling hot daydream into an embarrassingly indulgent bit of sleaze.

She couldn't even get through a single set without eye-fucking her opponent until she literally couldn't control herself. Justine covered her face with her other hand, fuming. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't a big deal; it wasn't like she had hurt anyone.

Even still, her condition made her feel like such a sex pest. It was why she had been such a shut-in for most of her teenage and young adult life. No matter how careful she was, it would always break through. Whether she forgot a dose, or just had an unexpectedly intense flare-up, she would always find herself trapped in a conversation with someone that she could not stop undressing in her mind--no matter how hard she tried.

Truthfully, she usually handled these situations rather well, all things considered, but her anxiety wouldn't allow her to see it that way. No, in her mind, they could see it. In her eyes. In her body language. In her suspiciously clenched thighs. Her utterly concupiscent mental pictures may as well have been projected onto her rapidly perspiring face. They could see Justine turning them into obscene caricatures of themselves to properly suit whatever fetish suited her ravenous libido's desires.

Then she would make up an excuse to leave. When they would call or text her, she would be too mortified to answer. Eventually, they would stop calling.

Trying to recover from her spiral, Justine posed to herself that it could've been worse. After all, Elaine was the type of girl that could drive most woman-loving libidos insane. She wasn't being weird about it or anything. They were the same age, Elaine was exactly her type, and they had gotten along...relatively well in their short interaction. Add in her condition, and it sort of made sense.

And it wasn't surprising, looking at Elaine's mother. She had to be in her mid-forties at least, but Anabel was like royalty in every sense of the word. The shift in her figure past motherhood put the extra weight in all the right places. Her breasts were comfortably the size of small melons, and she no doubt had a very expensive sports bra to keep them compressed and supported enough to play.

Justine's eyes shot open as she felt another ticklish crackle bubbling down in the dregs of her stewing cum tanks. Desperately, she tried to think of something--anything to take her mind away... but to no avail.

"Oh? What size are they?" Anabel put a finger to the cute dimple on her cheek, grinning sweetly as she looked to the sky to consider, "Hmm... how about you guess, dear?"

Anabel's eyes lidded as she bit her perfect, crimson lip and rolled her sticky, sweaty t-shirt up to her chest. Stopping only for a moment to hook her perfectly manicured nails under the elastic of her bra, she lifted... and lifted... and lifted...

Justine pinched the base of her cock as she felt it surge to life, desperately trying to banish the sporty MILFs glistening, voluminous underboob from her mind's eye. She curled her toes and sat up, resisting climax with every muscle in her body as her nuts churned and boiled with a freshly-cooked load that threatened to burst forth at any second.

The elastic had finally stretched too thin to contain the tsunami of sun-kissed, milk-swollen, pillow-soft breasts that spilled through. The tumultuous flesh rippled lewdly as Anabel's oh-so-suckable nipples and sweet pink areolas flowed from containment and took their rightful place at the lead of her gargantuan milkers.

Justine's nuts rapidly grew another centimeter in diameter just before her scrotum clenched them so tight against her body as to cause a jolt of pain. Her grip loosened for only an instant, but that was all it took. Justine screamed, at first in shock and discomfort. The rolled band shot up her shaft as a veritable deluge of thick, viscous spooge distended the rest of the overwhelmed latex barrier, the relentless jet of her release creating a swirling, sloshing current within. Justine briefly panicked, but it was too late. A hole became a tear, one tear became many, and the poor little condom was shortly obliterated by the twisting whirlpool of opaque white jism. The fat gob it had formerly contained splashed down onto the shower floor, coating Justine's legs and tummy. She covered her mouth to stifle herself, inadvertently slathering her face with her own cum.

Justine's eyes rolled back as the salty, slimy facial crawled around on her tastebuds, the heavy scent overwhelming her nostrils, provoking her mind to remix the lewd fantasy.

"Look at this mess! Young lady, you clean this up right now!" Anabel scolded, Justine's sizable cock barely peeking out from between the MILF's titanic breasts. Rope after rope of salty milk shot into Justine's face from her throbbing cock as Anabel directed the business end of it toward her. Anabel had held her head in place until it was clear that Justine wouldn't dare disobey, dutifully accepting the self-facial with an open mouth and eager tongue.

Another explosion ripped forth as Justine's eyelids began to fall, a thick rope of cum striping the shower wall just before she fell onto her back--deep, satiated breaths reaching her ears in the darkness behind her closed eyelids...

Part Four

After Justine's shameful return to the court, the match resumed. Unsurprisingly, when the two teams played in proper form, the match suddenly grew quite competitive. Justine's ability to control the ball with microscopic precision proved quite a unique challenge for the much more athletic Elaine, as Elaine's relentless, untiring playstyle had provided a similar challenge for Justine. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she was actually having fun.

Elaine bounced the ball in her off-hand, and looked toward Justine. Their eyes met one another, as they had many times in this game alone. But then... she smiled. Her braces flashed a little in the bright sun as she stifled a giggle, and Justine nervously waved in response.

Elaine took a breath and put her game face back on. Her sweat-glistened skin shined in the sun as she leaned back for the serve. The perfect, fluid motion in her follow-through highlighted every working muscle in the athletic machine that was her body. Even her grunt seemed to have Justine enraptured.

tok!

Justine was shaken from her daze by the sound of the ball hitting the court. She had been watching Elaine instead of the ball. By the time she began to consciously look for it...

SHPOP!

The ball slammed into Justine's orbital bone before she could even flinch, which sent her stumbling backward for a few steps before she lost her balance.

"Oh my god!" Elaine gasped as Justine's back hit the court. With equal parts guilt and concern, Elaine rushed over to check on her.

"Eye on the ball, dear!" Anabel cackled as she turned to Minerva, "She's a real chip off the old block, ain't she, Minnie?"

Justine's face started to burn with embarrassment as she looked up at the clear blue sky, and her eye had already begun to puff up. When Elaine's face suddenly appeared, looking down at her with concern, it became even warmer.

"Are you okay? I'm s--so sorry! I--I guess I g--got a little too into it..."

"I--I'm fine. I just--" Justine's cheeks were on fire, "--got a little distracted... sorry."

"I--it's okay!" Elaine smiled warmly and offered her a hand, "It--uh... it happens to the best of us."

Justine averted her eyes from Elaine as she caught herself staring, unaware of how long she had been doing so. She took Elaine's hand and pulled herself up.