Game Set and Match Pt. 01

"Lynne has had the advantage of long term professional coaching, but with all the training she's had, she should be far better than she is. Haven't you noticed that she rarely plays anyone else?"

"I hadn't really," I admitted.

"Check the club score records," she said. "She plays you most of the time because she knows she will score an easy win," she told me.

Suddenly her words felt hurtful. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" I replied, my manner a little surly.

"I'm sorry," she said, with a slight laugh. "I didn't mean that to sound the way it did... but what I'm trying to say is that, with a bit of coaching I think you could improve enough to beat her consistently."

"Really?" I replied, genuinely surprised. "But then... how could I afford professional coaching?" my enthusiasm quickly deflating.

"You don't have to have a 'professional' coach," she went on, "you could get a friend to coach you." I looked at her sideways. She smiled. "How long have you been playing against Lynne?" she asked.

"Oh... about six or seven months."

"And in that time, has she ever given you any advice or help with your game?"

"Well... No... Not really." I reflected on my past matches with her, realising that, had it been the other way around I would surely have offered advice to her.

"Have you ever played her?" I asked.

"A couple of times," she said.

"How did you get on?"

"I... gave her a good match," she said mysteriously. "The point is..." she went on, "if you'd been playing against me," she smiled, her eyes wide and inviting, "I would have pointed out everything that I thought could help you," she told me brightly.

"If you don't mind me saying," I replied, "that seems a little odd."

"Oh? Why?"

"Well... why give your opponent tips that might help them beat you?" I asked.

She looked at me and smiled sweetly. "Because, Katie..." she said softly, her hand reached out to touch my bare forearm gently as I was packing my things away, "it would give me a better match... and that would help us both, don't you think?"

I hate to admit it now, but I felt ever so slightly suspicious. I looked deep into her lovely hazel eyes, searching for some sign, even just a hint that she might be trying to beguile me, but all I saw was sincerity. Even her pupils looked wide and dilated, warm and inviting, and I suddenly found no difficulty in trusting her.

"Well..." I began, airing my uncertainty, but she stopped me again.

"If you give me a close match, it helps me to improve too... it makes me work harder, wouldn't you agree?"

"Well... I suppose... if you put it like that," I replied, "but what sort of things could I improve?"

"Oh, well just from watching you play today I can see a whole range of things we could work on," she said, looking suddenly inspired.

"We?" I queried.

"I'd love to help you if I may," she suggested. 'If you may?' I thought. 'I would simply love that'. "How long do you have?" she asked.

"Well, sadly I have to go in about ten minutes."

"Oh. That doesn't give us any time at all," she mused. "What would you have done if your match had gone on for an hour?"

I laughed aloud, almost mocking, although I had never intended that. "My matches with Lynne never take an hour," I told her, unable to shed my wry smile. "I'm often lucky if I last thirty minutes.

"Well, we'll have to see what we can do to fix that, won't we," she said. Her lovely warm eyes sparkled in the afternoon sun and despite having been defeated as usual, I found myself gradually beginning to feeling really good.

"Can I walk back to the clubhouse with you?" She asked.

'CAN you?' I thought. 'I'd love you to.' "Yes, of course," I told her, unable to contain my delight. I could feel the smile tingling all over my face (along with another tingle somewhere else if I'm honest) as we walked back together.

"How is it I've never seen you here before?" I asked. "Are you a new member?"

"Well... sort of. I signed up about two months ago," she told me. "I've just moved to the area, but this is the first time I've been able to come on a weekend. I'm usually busy," she told me. "Wednesday afternoon is the best time for me."

"You're new to the town then?"

"Yes. I moved in just over three months ago... to be near my folks. My dad is an engineer but he was hurt in an accident at work," she revealed, suddenly looking despondent.

"Oh... I'm sorry to hear that," I told her.

"Yes. It's likely to be a while, so I moved here to help my mum look after him. She has to work weekends." There was an awkward silence for a few moments. "What do you do Katie?" she asked, breaking the silence at last.

"I'm at university... full time," I told her.

Her face dropped. "Oh," she said, looking a little crestfallen. "That means you're busy midweek then does it?" she asked.

"No. I have study time in the week, but it doesn't matter when I do that. I don't usually come here midweek because Lynne isn't available and there's rarely anyone else around..." I told her, "but I could do my studying in the evening," I smiled.

"Oh, that would be wonderful," she said, brightly. "I have Wednesday afternoons off. I work in a shop and Wednesday is half-day closing. There was a pause and she smiled so warmly, I felt drawn to her. "So... Wednesday then?" she repeated. "I could meet you here then, if you'd like to," she suggested.

"That sounds lovely," I replied, with a broad smile, just as we reached the clubhouse. "Well, I'd better be going," I told her. "It was lovely to meet you, and thanks for the advice."

"I haven't given you any yet," she laughed. "Aren't you going to take a shower?" she asked. She was looking at me almost expectantly.

"I'm not that bad," I told her, sniffing my arm. "I rarely have time to work up a sweat playing against Lynne, and anyway I walk home from here so I'll be outside. I'll have one when I get home."

"That's something else we'll have to change," she said looking into my eyes. She seemed to be searching for a response of some kind, but being so naive I completely missed the cue.

"What do you mean?" I asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"We'll need to get you working harder or you'll never beat her," she said, cunningly slipping herself off the hook. "You dowant to beat her, don't you?"

"You bet," I said with a bright smile. "So... I'll see you here about 2pm on Wednesday then, shall I?" I asked.

"Perfect," she replied. "I'll look forward to it."

"Me too," I said. "Bye."

"Bye Katie," she said softly.

As I walked away down the drive, I felt an odd urge to turn back and look for her. There she stood, waiting in the doorway of the clubhouse, watching me walk away. It was strangely exciting to think that she seemed as interested in me as I was in her. I imagined there must be some curious chemistry at work between us, and I could hardly wait for Wednesday to come.

... To be continued...

Thank you for reading my story. I sincerely hope you have enjoyed it.

In recognition for my effort, please be kind enough to give a score. I really do appreciate it. Also, if you have any thoughts that you would like to share, please leave a comment below.

Thank you.Preamble.

Hi, and thank you for choosing my story. I hope you will enjoy it.

If you do, please be kind enough to give a score at the end. This helps me to gauge the popularity of my work. - If I may - I usually like to suggest, one star each for:

Composition & Use of Vocabulary, Readability, Plot, Drama or Humour, and of courseSexual Content (because -- isn't that why we are all here?), but please feel free to use your own criteria if you prefer.

Also, if you would like to know a little about my personal background, please read my Brief History.

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Tags:Lesbian Romance

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Words: 5,100

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As with most of my stories, there is quite a lot of 'scene setting' and character building taking place before any real action occurs. For those who want to get 'straight to the action' you could possibly skip the first sections (Parts 1 & 2) and move straight to Part 3, but I do hope you will read them, as I think the final reward should be well worth the journey.

This is a tale of lesbian romance blossoming on the tennis court. This first part finds Katie meeting a new player and making friends, with a little flirting thrown in for good measure.

This story is dedicated to DodgeJuliez

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Title: Game Set & Match - Part 1: Meeting Julie.

It was a Saturday afternoon and I was sitting in the clubhouse with my singles partner Lynne, waiting for a free court, when I first noticed Julie. She was sitting on the other side of the clubhouse with a group of other women. They appeared to be having a post-mortem discussion on their match that she and her doubles partner had apparently just lost to the other pair. It all sounded very friendly but they were speaking quite loudly and we couldn't help but overhear their conversation, although Lynne chose to ignore them.

Lynne was my long term singles partner, but I was really little more than a sparring partner for her. She was a couple of years older than me, and had been a club member since leaving school. She had 'adopted' me almost as soon as I joined, just over six months ago, and she seemed to enjoy dominating me on court, treating me like her trained puppy, but not in a loving way.

She was roughly six inches taller than me, which would make her about 5ft 4in, with long dark, almost black hair which she always wore in a pony tail on court. She always had the best clothes, shoes, racquet and other equipment, and a 'Holier than Thou' manner, preaching to me that 'you simply can't expect to play well with inferior kit'.

She did play well though, at least I thought she did, but at that moment my attention was drawn to Julie. Julie stood out from the others in her group in several respects, most notably her figure. Julie had a body to die for. The white cardigan she wore pulled tightly across her generous bust, emphasising a distinctly attractive figure, to a point that would be impossible to ignore.

She was significantly younger than the other three women in her group, who all appeared to be around their mid to late forties, whereas Julie (although I didn't know her name at the time) was probably only half that age.

It was impossible to tell how tall she might be from her seated position, but I guessed she was around average height. She had the most beautiful, shoulder length deep auburn hair that hung virtually straight around her face, curling slightly at the ends where the sun had faded the colour to a slightly lighter shade.

From what I could see, her complexion was smooth, pale and creamy looking, with a cute little nose, and the most inviting pair of full lips I had ever seen. There was an actress called Sofia Vergara, from an American Sit-Com I had seen, whose mouth looked similar to Julie's, and I couldn't help thinking they looked a little alike.

She was sitting with her side toward us, and I thought I had noticed her looking over our way once or twice. I could have been mistaken of course, but something about her drew my attention several times, and on one occasion I felt sure I saw her smile - just for the briefest of fleeting moments; then it was gone.

I was wondering how she had come to be involved in a ladies doubles match with a group of women who were clearly so much older than her, but perhaps it was just a case of numbers? After all, ours was quite a small town, and being little more than a village tennis club, the number of members tended to limit our selection of partners quite drastically. I, for example, had partnered up with Lynne, who was quite a good player, and I knew I wasn't anywhere near in the same league as her. Without needing to brag at all, I'm sure that Lynne would be among the first to admit that she never failed to beat me, and it was only that fact (initially anyway) that prompted me to wonder if perhaps I ought to be looking elsewhere for a closer match.

In the back of my mind I had an idea that I knew Julie from somewhere. Something about her cute nose, or the way her eyes closed more slowly as she blinked in a relaxed sort of way, or maybe it was the way her hair swung to the side whenever she tossed her head. I just felt I had seen her somewhere before. One thing was certain; I wanted to know her, although I was far too shy to tell her so.

I had never let on to anyone that I had always been interested in other girls... and a few women too, if I'm honest. It wasn't that I wanted to start any sort of relationship with a girl; quite the opposite in fact. I had realised from very early on during puberty that I felt attracted to other girls, but I was scared of what it meant. I thought there must be something horribly wrong with me and I dare not reveal my desires to anyone.

While all of my school friends were cooing over this boy or that (sometimes even uncles or other girls' dads - yes, really!), I was playing along, yet hiding my true sexuality for fear that I might be labelled as some sort of freak. I needn't have worried of course, because unbeknown to me at the time, about 20% of my class at school were either the same as me, or went 'both ways', so to speak, in fact, I imagine most of them were going through the same torture that I was back then.

But for the moment I resigned myself to hide away behind a facade of lies, not even giving myself away to Lynne - no, least of all, Lynne.

I put my head back into my book and made a vain effort to ignore Julie's presence, but with each curious covert glance, I couldn't help but notice that her doubles partner kept touching her hand, and every now and then they would exchange smiles, like some affectionate couple who were unable to hide their feelings for each other. Could it be? Were they openly displaying feelings for each other? I was fascinated with them. Julie's partner was so much older than she was. Perhaps it was her mother, or maybe an aunt? Yes. That had to be it, I decided, perversely pushing the idea to the back of my mind.

"Our court is free," Lynne announced, standing abruptly, shattering my thoughts like a hammer through a plate glass window.

"Oh. Oh, yes," I replied, standing too, as if called to attention by my mistress. I picked up my racquet bag and trooped out behind her, steeling myself for yet another blistering defeat.

It wasn't surprising that Lynne would beat me so consistently. At 21 she was a good two years older than I was, and although I had been playing since I was at middle school, I had never had the benefit of any formal coaching. Lynne, on the other hand, had gone to a private school and although she hadn't even come close to fulfilling her mother's dreams for her, by winning any major tournament, she'd had the benefit of a professional coach for most of that time. As a result, her abilities were in a whole different league from my own. If I'd had any alternative, I would have been playing against almost any other player in the club, but as I've already said, it's a small club, and 'beggars can't be choosers', as the saying goes.

But despite all of that, as I left the clubhouse, I happened to glance across to where Julie and her companions were sitting, and she was watching me, at least I thought she was. No. Surely I was fooling myself. She must have just glanced my way as Lynne and I opened the door. I tried to put it out of my mind as we left.

Lynne and I usually played a 'Best of three sets' match, although we never ever got to a third set. She usually managed to take both of the first two sets either 6-0 or 6-1 or sometimes if I was doing 'really well', I might only lose a set 6-2, but I rarely ever did any better. And Lynne was never generous enough to 'let' me win of course; not that I wanted her to. I wouldn't want a charity handout - it wouldn't feel like a real win would it, so I was stuck with being a perpetual loser or just not playing, and I did enjoy the game.

I was one set down; only 6-2 after 15 minutes (I was having a good day), and I had lost the first two games of the next set, when Julie walked onto the court.

"Mind if I watch?" she called out after I'd lost the first point of the third game.

Now she was standing I could see that she was marginally taller than Lynne - maybe 5ft 8in at the most. Those beautiful long creamy thighs and the neatly pleated white tennis skirt complimented each other perfectly, and as she turned, it was clear that she had a lovely slender waist and the most beautiful shapely bottom, delightfully lifting the back of her white, finely pleated skirt.

In the bright sunlight her stunning figure was even more alluring than it had appeared in the clubhouse. I'm quite a connoisseur of the female form on the quiet, and I guessed her figure to be probably a 36, with a generous 'C' cup; much more enticing than my own meagre 32A.

"Of course," I said with a smile, although in truth, having any spectator witness my humiliating defeat was really the last thing I needed. Even worse, that it was someone I felt attracted to.

"Feel free," Lynne replied, almost dismissively. 'How rude,' I thought, but I stayed silent.

Julie took a place in the centre of a long bench at the side of our court, crossed her beautiful long slender legs (toward Lynne, although I didn't notice that at the time) and spread her arms out to either side, displaying her ample bosom as she sat back to watch.

Lynne prepared to serve and I stood almost impassively, waiting to receive, only to see Lynne's serve overshoot the service line by about two feet. I just looked at her, my mouth hanging open. One of the stronger parts of Lynne's game was her serve; I could rarely return it, and although she might miss occasionally, I had never seen her put a ball out by so far.

"Miss hit?" I called.

"Probably," she called back, but she didn't look at all happy.

She prepared to serve again, tossing the ball up, but then caught it again. She looked a little flustered. She tossed the ball again, only to catch it again. "I can't seem to get my rhythm right," she called. She tossed it up again and took a swing, but I could tell from the 'crack' the racquet made, that she hadn't hit it cleanly. The ball spun off to the side and out of court. I was agog. It was a double fault so the point was mine. It was only one point, but it helped.

We were at fifteen all, and two love to her in the second set. She was still way ahead but she didn't look happy at all. We both moved to the right of the court and she served again. This time I took a bit more interest, but she put it into the net. She was getting a bit red in the face as she tossed the ball again. This time it went in, but it was so slow I was all over it. I moved forward and gave it such a forehand whack, and it shot past her on her left while her racquet was still on the right - her forehand side. I turned to look at our single spectator who just smiled encouragingly. "Shall I keep score?" Julie asked.

"That would be..." I began.

I had been about to say 'That would be nice', but Lynne interrupted. "No thanks. We're OK," she said. Julie gave me a 'Whatever' sort of half smile, and shrugged.

"Fifteen Thirty," I called back. I couldn't help but smile. She clearly wasn't happy. I wasn't ahead in the match, nor even the set, but it wasn't often I got ahead in a game and I liked the feeling.

I glanced across at Julie and she seemed to be studying Lynne's service action, then I noticed Lynne was discreetly watching Julie too. That was quite peculiar. She was breaking the first rule of tennis - always keep your eye on the ball - and she was paying for it. Suddenly I understood. Julie's presence was distracting Lynne. Whether she intended to or not, she 'was' distracting her. I tried hard to subdue my pleasure. It wasn't really cheating, but I did need all the help I could get so I wasn't about to complain.