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Mona entered the plush office of her boss, John Powers, exactly at 5:15. She had been coming to his office…

A few years ago I broke up with a girl I was dating for about six months. I caught her…

There are laws, rules and morality in place to let a girl know and how to behave. The laws and rulings are laid down by men, and regardless of the restraints imposed, it’s about control, control of the female body, and her reproductive organs, her pleasure zones and thus, theirs.The Dutch religious sect that made a teenage daughter’s first bleed, a bath by her mother, and sent to her father’s bed, for her first sexual experience, was that bad in the eyes of whoever it was meant to offend, tell that to the man inside his daughter and enjoying that wondrous squeeze on his cock, his daughters tightness freely given with love and respect as he seeds her freely.All over the world females are used for sex, we all know and sense that, Kings of Britain have fucked girls as young as ten, and old men enjoyed our freshness and willingness of parents to curry favour by giving men access to their daughters bedrooms for money, even today, now as I write, in Thailand and the Philippines, young girls are being seeded, behind doors guarded by her parents, and all for a few ins and outs, as their old cocks are suctioned by her young pussy.As a girl myself, my world has been full of incidents of men wanting me for sex, from awakening at a family Summer party, in the early hours of the morning, with my uncles cock in my mouth and continuing to chew on it until my mouth was full of his cum, which I swallowed, to my dirty old grandfather who like those men I mentioned before, used to sneak into my bed and commit carnal knowledge with me, something my mother knew about, as she too had been subjected to the old mans 9″ cock thrusting, when she was just a wide eyed girl, granddad was a farmer and sex was a function, something my mother understood with four healthy brothers all growing up together and needing that moment of soft loving that only a mother or woman can provide.I am sure, as you read, many will have experienced similar, I just put these acts into words so others can see that the tabbooness is pointless, and if anything it adds to the poignancy of the act, I find my own orgasms are more powerful and deeply satisfying, and when you weigh it up, if you have to fuck, then just get out of it what you can, and throw yourself headlong into it, as I have done all my life.Read them all and tell me what ones you liked, indeed if you liked them all, there is no shame in that1.) A Girl’s First Love is her DaddySex is a powerful tool to wield against people, I know as I have been liberated by it, enriched by it, as a student I placed an old man’s hand on my bared breast, so he could feel my rigid nipple in his palm, that did the trick, way much better and far quicker than signing documents, I stayed at his place gratis free, providing I pleasured him whenever he needed my company, something that might have repulsed me, had my uncle and grandfather not taught me otherwise.youn girl sex storiesI was brought up by my father as a single parent. We were very close and I was a great comfort and solace when mother left.I married at 19 and left him alone as I moved away to another country, where my husband worked, and I got myself employment and we had a tremendous lifestyle of good weather and parties.As the years flew in, I suddenly realised one day I had not even spoken to him on the phone let alone go visit and spend time with him, and I felt very sad about that, as it had been nearly six years.My marriage was hitting a rough patch too, the lifestyle was starting to get boring and I felt we were just living for the day and not putting roots down, like my father had always suggested.Then one day I found out my husband had been sleeping with another local girl and for me that was the straw that broke the camels back, I packed up and went home, citing divorce proceedings, that was it, it was over and I went back home to daddy and my old room, where it all began for me.It had been almost five years since I last saw him, but when I did I felt like I had never been away and all the old feelings of security fell back into place, and as we hugged at the airport, his scent and aftershave, was the same, I was my daddy’s girl, even at 25, and more a woman than a little girl, I clung to him and he hugged me tightly, he had his girl back in his life and he was as excited as I was.Suddenly, back home there was no problems, I felt free and had nothing to worry myself about anymore, but more important I felt different, and I saw my father too, was different, I was really drawn to him, especially after the last six months of isolation and abstinence from both alcohol and sex, now I felt free and I could laugh like old, and that first night we went out for Pizza, then onto daddy’s local pub, where his older friends fussed over me, and complimented me and made me feel special.We were too drunk to drive home so we called a taxi, and we got in for the twenty minute drive home. I was completely out of it because of jet lag, and boozing, I remember slipping away hearing my father tell the driver I had just came home that morning.We got into the house and I crashed on the couch. Daddy tried to get me to bed but I was so comfortable I told him I wanted to sleep on it tonight.He went away and came back with my duvet, and started to undress me, “What are you doing daddy”, I remember fussing?“You cant sleep in your clothes”, he replied so I tried to help as he undid buttons and zippers and then I felt the duvet covering me and daddy bending over me and giving me a big goodnight kiss on my mouth.I kissed him back and it felt nice, “I love you”, I told him, and we kissed again, then I pushed myself back against the couch and I asked him to sleep with me on the couch, I wanted to hug him perhaps, even more than than that, I felt starved of affection and sexual love, I wanted to feel a mans body against my own, so I kept repeating myself, “Sleep with me daddy, just until I fall asleep”. That seemed to do the trick, as he got up and turned off the lights and got in beside me, and as he cuddled up, I felt his erection press against my stomach, as we jostled i the limited space.“You’re naked daddy”, I giggled, and he retorted, “so are you daughter”, by now we were crushing against each other and I felt a rising desire that had been missing for such a long time, and I raised my leg to go over his and as I did so, I felt his penis push against my vagina, and a wave of burgeoning desire swept over me, and I groaned, “Oh daddy”, as I heaved myself on top and he just went in deeply, all the way in and my body just did the rest as we fucked, I could not stop, nor did I want to.2.) The Dominant Boss at the OfficeWhen I went for the interview, I prayed he would be a horn-dog, wanting to hire me for sex. I knew I had it all, great tits and a peachy bum, I was tall and sporty, with a crowning mane of blond locks, thanks to my Scandinavian heritage and green eyes, with Celtic blood.I sat indecently for a sophisticated woman, I deliberately showed more than a woman should, but I wanted the job, even if it meant going down on him, I needed the money.His questions were more what I could do for him at a personal level, was I willing to travel and stay in hotels, of course I would, and my knees would part a little more.I got the job and the security of harassment laws, that protected me from his assumed gains during the interview. I was an experienced woman, and I enjoyed my sex, I even had a small lipstick vibrator in my handbag and I admit to using it when I felt the urge, which was often, and daringly, when sitting opposite the same man, with only my panties keeping it safe from falling out. Yes I was that sort of woman.My boss did want me, he told me in so many words, and I had that power over him, especially after seeing his wife, why would a man like him not want to fuck every orifice in my body, we both knew it, and I teased him with it, on the only journey we ever undertook, I masturbated myself knowing he was listening in his room next to mine, I had noted his bed was along the same wall, and even quipped, looks like we are sleeping together with a wall between us.sexI could hear his breathing, and he could hear my moans and the sounds of my vibrator working itself in and out of my sloppy wet pussy. Over breakfast the next morning he remarked it sounded like I was enjoying myself, “I was”, I retorted, “girls do masturbate too”, I added, just so he knew I heard him jacking off.I never used the laws in place to report his sexist views, or intimidating behaviour, I was simply not that type of weak scared girl, I gave as good as I got, and I got good bonuses and favours in return for being dirty and sluttish, we always took it to the edge and I could see his bulge in his pants, I loved being desired sexually and even more, I loved dominating my boss by being overtly sexual when alone with him, that is until the Christmas office party, where he turned the tables, that was five years back, and I have been paying the price ever since.I had been in his employ for close to eighteen months, and was his personal secretary, the tall leggy blond that only wore stockings, that were slutty netted, with huge diamonds, stockings he bought from women’s catalogues and paid me to put on, as he watched through his keyhole, I entertained his little kink every morning and enjoyed the envelope stashed with cash paid weekly, no questions asked, for ten minutes of my working day, and countless dictates sitting with my legs open, knowing he had his cock out behind his desk getting off on my visual beauty.The Christmas bash was an all out affair, with great buffet and champagne, and office flirtations coming to a head, over darkened office desks, as some people fucked with gay abandon, and released that pent up frustration that builds throughout the year and is released with the party pill popping and free booze.It all started when I took my husband down to the copy room where we caught an intern, Sandra, sitting on the copier, scanning her naked ass. What she never bargained for was her tiny tight pussy was also sitting snugly between her cute butt cheeks, we almost saw what she had eaten for breakfast.Sandra was pissed out of her skull and as we helped her down from the xerox machine, her cute little panties fell down to her slim ankles, as she flung her arms around my husbands neck, I saw my husband admire Sandra’s bum and pussy, and fold it into his pocket.“Well it’s my turn”, I said, and eased my skirt up, and pulled my own panties down and sat on the plate glass, and thus, my ass and cunt were streaming out and landing atop of Sandra’s, “Now you have us both to admire”, I said, noting my husband was stroking Sandra’s bare ass, under her short dress.I climbed down and left my knickers alongside Sandra’s on the copy room floor, “Follow me”, I said as we dragged Sandra into the elevator and up to my office floor, and into my office.I left my husband holding her limp body and sat down on my desk chair, “You do her the honers, and I shall watch”, and I took out my vibrator and watched my husband and my work colleague Sandra, fuck each other on my carpet, and eventually, I got up, went over, and joined in.After the holiday break, I went into the office to find my boss sitting there beaming, with his cock out and stroking himself so openly. “I have been waiting for you”, he said somewhat triumphantly, and he spun his computer monitor around so I could see what he was jacking off to, it was me, my husband and Sandra on my office floor. I had forgotten all about the office security cams.I went blank, lost for words, everything crashed, and as I watched him he beckoned me over to his chair, where I dropped to my knees, and for the first time, took him in my mouth until he cummed.Everything changed, he watched me dress in the morning and than fucked me over my desk, Sandra was invited to join us and together we explored everything sexually conceivable between women and Sandra fell pregnant, but even here he never relented, fucking her until his baby was born with a black eye and his demand for my own pregnancy, but I told him I could not medically conceive, so in the end, even here I lost out to the fertile Sandra, her pregnancies led to them getting married eventually and my being released from my job after seven years.Thousands of free fucks he had had from me, and never once did my husband question me if my boss ever did have me, of course he never knew of the blackmail he had over me, or Sandra, life went on and we just did our best.Many years later, we read of his passing and the fact he left a wife, Sandra and six c***dren, boy did he fuck her, but she was setup for life, and I often wondered about her first born, after all, my husband was in there first.

On a late Saturday afternoon one summer my 18 year old sister and I were alone in the house. I…

Warning: This story is for the entertainment of adults. It contains detailed descriptions of Female Domination, Fisting, Watersports, Anal penetration…

I took some free days at home after a boring business trip.On these some days, my loving wife was sent…

My daddy pees on me and I like it. Sometimes I even beg him to whip out his big dick and take a leak right on my face. How did I get this perverted, some people may wonder? Well, it all started last year when my father and I went on vacation to the Jersey shore. We shared a room because we didn’t have enough money for separate quarters. My being a well-developed 18 year-old blonde shouldn’t have been a problem. After all, he was my father and we had rented a suite with a bedroom. He would use that while I slept on a roll-away bed in the living room. We checked in and found to our surprise that the suite assigned to us had a heart-shaped bathtub right in the middle of the living room. I’d heard about these things from friends who went to the Poconos, but I’d never seen one. Little did I know how much trouble I would get into while luxuriating in it. The day after we arrived my father went for a walk down the boardwalk to the next town to check out a bar he’d heard about from a friend. I did some swimming and, to be honest, some trolling for cute lifeguards. One big hunk really made me pussy juice up. It was too bad that he already had a girlfriend. Frustrated and covered with salt water, I came back to the suite and decided to take a bath. I ran the water and stripped out of my bikini. In the mirror over the dresser I could see my foxy little body. My tits are real bouncy and many a man has drooled his saliva over my pencil-eraser nipples. So there I was, lying in the water and feeling real horny. I started massaging my clit, hoping for a big cum. That lifeguard’s little bathing suit had burned itself in my brain and I kept thinking about taking it off without using my hands. I was all worked up and ready to cum when suddenly my father walks out of the bedroom. He’d been there the whole time! There I am with my tongue hanging out and my hand splashing away at my cunt and my own father sees me. I could have died on the spot. “Sally!,” he shouted, “what the hell is going on here? What are you doing?” He sounded furious, which, considering I was only jerking off, seemed too severe a reaction. “I’m sorry. It’s just that . . .” How could I explain this? “It’s just that you’re a little slut,” he answered for me. “A whore. A fingerfucking cunt just like your mother.” He was livid as he dragged up memories of my mother, a cold bitch who abandoned us when I was five. I also realized that he was drunk and Daddy does not hold his liquor well on the rare occasions when he has a few. He kept screaming obscenities and insults at me. Could they hear us in the next room? This was so embarrassing! “I oughta take you over my lap. I oughta beat you black and blue. You little pig. Rubbing your cunt like that right in our room.” He stumbled toward me as he raved and ranted. I just stayed in the tub hoping that the soapy water covered my tits and pussy because I knew if he saw them he’d get even madder.sex picturesWhen he got up close to the tub Daddy did the most insane thing I’ve ever seen. He opened his fly and whipped out his cock and started peeing on me. “Stop, stop,” I screamed. “What are you doing?” His stream was going all over my face and hair, dripping down into the bath water. “A little jerk-off whore like you deserves to be peed on. Take this and like it.” He grabbed my head and pissed right onto my closed mouth. I couldn’t breath, so I had to open my lips for some air. A thick stream of urine blasted right in and I had to swallow it. To my amazement it was delicious, a saltytreat for my palate. I was instantly hooked. “More, more, piss on me some more,” I begged. He ran his endless stream over my face. I began masturbating furiously. Now all he yelled was encouragement. “Frig that clit. Com’n you little piss whore. Let me see you come. You wanna come, don’t you?” “Yes, yes, Daddy. Help me come.” I stood up in the tub. He was smart enough to aim his piss right at my cunt as I diddled my clit shamelessly for him. The warm urine went all over my hands and into my pussy, getting me off almost instantly. My hips bucked from the force of my orgasm and I had to sit back in the pissy water to avoid falling down. All his piss was out by now and I knew what he needed to cap this off. “Come here,” I ordered. He looked horrified at what he had done in his drunken rage, but he moved in close anyway. I took his prick in my hand and it got hard almost instantly. I pulled him close and began tounging his pissy penis. It was flavored by his delicious urine. Gobbling him down my well-practiced throat, I made him come in a minute. He must have been incredibly horny. I swallowed his love juice into my stomach where it mixed with his tangy piss. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” he said, hugging me. I told him not to worry about it, that this was just the beginning of our piss life together. And it was.

After everyone left the house, I quickly closed the door and pulled up the shades. I pulled a chair over…

Another year, another Wimbledon, another semi-final … another match point. Tina had heard it said that history repeats itself, but this was surely pushing it. How could she have been so stupid…? She knew exactly how, of course. Ever since that fateful day this time last year, women’s tennis had changed beyond recognition. The photos in the next day’s papers had won her immediate condemnation from a bunch of people she did not care about, while also earning immediate super-celebrity status as one of the world’s leading sex symbols. The fact that she had ended up losing the match made no difference at all. The job offers came rolling in, though she politely declined all requests that she pose nude for men’s magazines, and her bank balance grew and grew…This fact was not lost on her fellow tennis starlets. At last year’s US Open, a succession of tiny microskirts made their way out on to the courts, and soon Tina found herself facing stiff competition. One girl, in particular, seemed to have hardly any inhibitions at all – her name was Laura Lessing and she had won the hearts and loins of millions of male admirers across the globe. She had first made news by wearing bright red French-cut panties under her short skirt, and though she received reprimands from numerous umpires she continued to wear similar underwear in tournament after tournament. Her skirts were generally not excessively minuscule, but they were made of such a light material that they flew up around her waist at the slightest breeze, and she was not quick to cover her modesty. She obviously adored the limelight.As did Tina, who found herself driven to further exhibitionistic acts on the court just so she could keep herself in the media spotlight. In the French Open, she had worn a skirt that only barely covered her buttocks, with lacy panties beneath. The skirt was made of a stiff material that would neither fly up nor ride up, but whenever she bent over she knew she was showing her panties to the crowds and the cameras.Her fan sites doubled in number, then trebled. Fan mail poured in, as did the contracts, and she carefully ignored the vicious backlash from conservative groups. The people she had intended to thrill were thrilled.For this year’s Wimbledon, she had prepared well. The stretchy skirt idea had been a good one, but it had been flawed. Now, however, she had ironed out the problems. A skirt had been designed and made for her specially – one that would ride up as she moved, but not too quickly. Unlike her night-club skirt of the previous year, this one would not end up around her waist. Indeed, even after the longest, most vigorous points, it would uncover no more than a centimetre of the lower curves of her buttocks. Thus she could be sexy, but safe in the knowledge that she was in control.The dress code for this Wimbledon had been re-written. With new money pouring into the game, big name sponsors had put pressure on the rules committee to allow the female players a little flexibility. In short, the players could wear skirts of any length as long as they covered the buttocks while the player was at rest and standing straight, and the underwear rules had been relaxed to permit any kind of underwear except thongs and g-strings. There had been fierce opposition to these changes, and a few resignations had occurred. But the changes had stuck.So, on the first day of the Wimbledon fortnight, Tina had strode on to the court wearing a semi-stretchy white miniskirt that covered her buttocks with almost an inch to spare, with a pair of pale blue French-cut panties underneath. The outfit had gone down a storm. Every day for the last week and a half, she had graced several pages of each and every tabloid in the country. She practically received a standing ovation every time she walked out on to the court.And today she faced Laura Lessing. Laura had received a similarly rapturous welcome on her first day, as she appeared on court wearing not only her trademark ‘flying’ skirt, but also a tight tank top through which the outline of her bra was clearly visible. The tabloids contained nearly as many photos of Laura as they did of Tina. In fact, over the last couple of days Tina had been incensed to discover herself almost marginalised by full-page spreads of Laura’s latest gimmick – a pair of French-cut panties that had been judiciously altered to turn them almost, but not quite, into a thong. And the committee did not object! This angered Tina. Laura was flouting the new rules and getting away with it!So last night, Tina had decided she was not going to be outdone in her own match. She had summoned her tailor (she never went anywhere without him these days), and given him the job of ‘editing’ her own panties. She showed him the picture of Laura’s bottom adorning the front page of The Quasar. “I want you to make mine even skimpier than that,” she said, “while still not being a thong.”Gerard’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “That … will be tricky,” he remarked. “But I’ll give it a try.”And so he had. The following morning, Tina was impressed with the result.“That will surely slip between my buttocks,” she observed critically.“It will, after a short while,” agreed Gerard. “But it’s not a thong – not quite. And I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of pulling it out of your arse every few points in front of the cameras.”Tina considered this, and a smile came to her lips. “Yes…” she said.“That will be fun.”But Martin, her manager, was outraged when he saw the garment. “You cannot wear that!” he exclaimed. “It’s hardly any bigger than the thong you wore last year! And just remember – you almost got banned from Wimbledon on account of that little stunt.”“It wasn’t a stunt!” objected Tina. “But that’s academic anyway. They’ve relaxed the rules since then, as well you know.”“But there are still rules,” Martin insisted. “And one of them is that thongs aren’t allowed.”“This isn’t a thong,” said Tina.“It virtually is. And when it’s bunched up between your butt cheeks, who’s going to know the difference?”“Who indeed?” Tina smiled wryly. “But I can easily prove to them that it isn’t.”Martin frowned, then turned on his heel and walked away.“He’ll get over it,” Gerard told her. “Now, about this top…”“Oh yes! Do you have it?”“It’s in your bag,” said the tailor. “Check it out – I think you’ll like it.”Tina hurried through to her room and placed the almost-thong on her bed next to her equipment bag. Opening the bag, she smiled as she spotted a white cut-off t-shirt folded neatly on the top. She smiled to herself.This was her latest gambit – exposure of the midriff. She pulled it out and held it up, giggling naughtily. Then she pulled out the miniskirt and sighed happily as she imagined the whole combination. This was going to be a good day. Finally she went through the rest of the equipment in the bag, making sure it was all present. She was not going to make the same mistake she had made this time last year!Placing her racquets in the bag first, she re-packed everything, leaving her clothing until last. She hesitated for a moment, then resisted the temptation to try the clothes on before packing them, too. She laid the panties and the skirt side by side on top of her track suit, then placed the t-shirt on top.“Tina?”She turned around at the sound of her manager’s voice. “Yes Martin?”“Waldo’s here – he wants to talk to you about tonight’s do.”Tina frowned. “Couldn’t he have phoned?”“He was in the hotel,” explained Martin. “Thought he’d ‘just drop by’ or something.”“Okay, I’m coming.” Tina stood up and went out to meet her agent.Waldo was a tall man with a thick crop of wild grey hair that always looked as if he’d been out in a strong wind. He had a habit of finishing every other sentence with “don’t you know” and his eyebrows bobbed up and down as he talked. Tina found him rather intimidating, but he was the best agent she’d had.“Ahem, well Tina, good morning and how do you do,” he pronounced sternly.“I’ve been chewing the old fat with the blokes at the press office and they happened to bring up the subject of interviews, don’t you know. So I thought to myself, as I am wont to do, ‘now here if I am not greatly mistaken is an opportunity old boy’ and …”Tina only half-listened, fascinated by his eyebrows, as Waldo trundled on through a terribly one-sided conversation at the end of which he paused, awaiting her response. She shook herself. “Ah, whatever you think is best, Waldo,” she said. “I trust your judgment.”“Most gratifying I am sure, well I’ll be tootling off now if you’ll pardon my flying visit – oh and I have another advertising contract I need to discuss with you, but it can wait until tonight, what? Or even tomorrow don’t you know. Toodle-pip.” And with that he swept out of the room.“We should be leaving,” said Martin, coming back into the room. “Are you ready?”“Sure,” said Tina. “Let me grab my bag.”She walked back into her bedroom and reached down to zip up her bag. Then she stopped. Something was not quite right. Her eyes narrowing, she slid her hand down the side of the bag and pulled out a white object that she had just glimpsed the corner of. It was a pair of conservative white panties.Annoyed, she flung them on to the floor. “Thought you’d try to convince me of the error of my ways, did you Martin?” she muttered.She said nothing to Martin as they left the hotel, and only in the car did she finally break her silence. “Honestly Martin,” she reprimanded him.“Sometimes you act just like my mother.”“Huh?” Martin looked puzzled.“The panties?”“Oh.” Martin flushed and responded defensively, “Well I’m sorry, but there are limits, you know.”“Just forget it,” said Tina.In the Centre Court changing rooms she met up with her arch-rival, and today’s opponent, Laura Lessing. “Hi,” said Tina rather coldly.“Hi Tina!” Laura gushed. “Wow, I’m so happy to be playing against you at last! You are my absolute hero, you know.”Tina was utterly disarmed, and found herself rather flustered. “Well, I…” she began. “Thank you! That’s nice of you to say so.”“I think it’s great what you’ve done for women’s tennis,” continued Laura.“You’ve possibly seen my, um … tributes … to your groundbreaking stunt last year…”“It wasn’t…” Tina began, before changing her mind. “Well, I guess I always figured you were trying to outdo me,” she said. “You must admit you’ve become rather popular yourself…”“I know!” Laura’s eyes were like saucers, as if she could barely comprehend the idea. “Isn’t it amazing? I mean, I’m nowhere near as pretty as you – I’m just overwhelmed at the attention I’ve got.”Tina chuckled. “Have you ever thought of, you know, toning it down a little?”Laura looked surprised. “Why, no,” she said. “Have you?” But she did not wait for a response before continuing in a conspiratorial whisper, “I just love to go a little further each time, you see. I know sooner or later I’ll get into trouble, but isn’t it amazing what they’ll let you get away with this year?”“Yes, it is,” agreed Tina. She sighed and began to undress. “Guess we’d better get into our skimpy outfits then.”Laura giggled. “Ooh yes,” she said.Tina pulled her t-shirt and skirt out of her bag, then stared into her bag in horror. Her heart plummeted into her shoes. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed.“What is it?” asked Laura in alarm.“My panties! They’re not here!”“What? Are you sure?”Tina suddenly realised with a shock that Martin had not only placed a conservative pair of panties in her bag, he had removed the other pair at the same time! “I don’t believe it!” she said. “My manager’s taken them out!”“Can’t you wear what you’re wearing now?” inquired Laura. “As I understand it, that’s what you did last year.”“I’m not wearing underwear,” hissed Tina sharply.“Ah,” said Laura. “Oops.”“Hey, are you wearing panties?” asked Tina on a sudden thought.“Yes but…”“Great! Can I wear them?”“No! I’m wearing the ones I’ll be wearing on the court!”“Oh.” Tina was crestfallen. “Good grief, what a fix.”“What skirt have you got?” inquired Laura.Tina showed her.Laura nodded. “Ah yes, I know that one. It doesn’t ride up much, does it?”“Not much,” conceded Tina. “But enough, probably.”“Maybe not, if you’re careful. And won’t it be awesome? Think of it – the first woman to play tennis at a Grand Slam tournament without panties!” Tina groaned. “I suppose it’s possible I might get away with it,” she said. “But I’ll be giving you the advantage.”Laura waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense,” she said airily. “You’re the better player – you’ll have no problems.”Tina stared at Laura, perplexed. “What kind of pep-talk do you give yourself?” she inquired. “Are you expecting to lose?”“I don’t mind.” Laura shrugged. “I’m just out to play my best and have a good time. I don’t have any illusions.”Tina shook her head in great puzzlement, then sighed as she considered her position. Eventually she decided to bite the bullet, and changed into her miniskirt, sports bra and cut-off t-shirt. The latter item caught her by surprise – it was far tighter than she had imagined.Laura whistled. “Wow, sexy!” Tina chuckled. The top really was tight – it clung to every curve of her breasts and the bra beneath made highly visible ridges in its fabric. She decided she rather liked the effect.But then she noticed what Laura was wearing. She gasped. “Oh my goodness!” Laura had really pulled out all the stops, knowing she was up against the woman who had started the whole revolution in women’s tennis wear. Her light skirt had been drastically reduced in length – it barely covered her buttocks – and she was wearing a tight lycra crop-top that made Tina’s t-shirt seem almost conservative. “How do I look?” she asked.“You look … naked!” exclaimed Tina.Laura giggled. “Why thank you!” she said.The two girls donned their track suits and walked out to meet the crowd, to whistles and cheers and great applause. They lapped it up. Then Martin arrived.“Where have you been?” Tina hissed.“Getting a drink,” he said. “What’s up?”“What’s up??” Tina fought to control her anger. “Martin you idiot, I didn’t realise you’d taken my panties out of my bag!”“Huh?”“Those ones you put in there – I threw them away! Now I have nothing!” Martin gasped in shock. “Oh … my … God,” he managed at last.“Tell me about it. Now do you think you can go and get me some?”“Well, I’ll try,” he said, “but you know what the traffic’s like. Remember the last time?”“You don’t need to go all the way back to the hotel,” she told him. “Just find a clothes shop.”Martin nodded. “Okay,” he said, and hurried off.The sky was overcast as the two girls took off their track suits to rapturous applause. Cameras snapped in their hundreds. Tina had stomach butterflies as she began her warm up with a few serves from the right-hand side of the court. But her skirt stayed put (pretty much), and she made sure its hem stayed well below her buttocks. The breeze on her naked pussy made her feel terribly uneasy, but she forced herself not to think about it, and tried to concentrate on serving well.Meanwhile, Laura was getting all the attention. She was leaping high in every serve, her skirt flying up to reveal a pair of white silk panties that were almost as small as the ones Tina had been planning to wear. And they looked as if they were several sizes too small. Already the material at the back was creeping between her buttocks, and she made no attempt to rectify the situation. And she took her time about bending over (with straight legs) to pick up balls from the grass.Tina was a little relieved not to have all the cameras scrutinising her, but also rather annoyed that the crowd was watching Laura and not her.Nevertheless, she did not dare to let her skirt ride any higher than it was doing already, so she forced herself to ignore her opponent’s exhibitionistic antics and the crowd’s response.The match began. As expected, Tina’s skirt did not ride up much, and she began to relax a little. She was careful not to allow any point to go on for too long (sometimes this meant giving Laura the occasional point, but she could afford them), and gradually she began to feel that she was, after all, in control. After four games, the score was 3:1, and Tina was about to serve in the fifth when it began to rain.It was just a light drizzle, but after only a couple of points the grass was beginning to get slippery, and after a meaningful glance from Tina, the umpire ordered the covers to be brought out. Tina was relieved – it would buy her some time before Martin got back.But the covers were not on for long. Five minutes later the rain had ceased, and the players were cleared to resume the game. This they did, but this time Laura had the advantage. The damp grass caused them both to slip on several occasions, but whereas Laura took this in her stride, relishing the opportunity to flash her panties yet again, Tina could not afford to let her skirt ride up at all. So she played it safe, taking only small steps, while Laura capitalised on the opportunity to break serve for the first time.The drizzle began again in the next game, but stopped after only a couple of minutes. Tina was by now getting rather frustrated. She lost to Laura’s serve, then lost her own serve after that. Things were not going well. On the positive side, the rain was causing her t-shirt to cling even tighter to her chest, and the material was even easier to see through now that it was damp.Laura could not help but notice this as she came all the way up to the net to slam home a winning cross-court volley. She realised that her own crop top was not the type of garment to turn transparent in the rain, and she wished she had thought to wear a thin t-shirt like Tina’s. But perhaps there was something else she could do…At the beginning of the ninth game, with the score at 5:3 (to Laura), Tina bounced a ball in front of her, glancing occasionally at her opponent. She watched as Laura hopped from one foot to the other, bouncing on the spot, and then frowned. Laura seemed a little more … bouncy? than usual.And then she realised the startling truth: that her opponent had taken off her bra! Laura’s crop top was now bouncing under the influence of a pair of decidedly unfettered breasts (and Laura’s chest was fairly large for a tennis player).“Two can play at that game,” thought Tina to herself, and she clenched her teeth in a new resolve.Determined to pull herself back into the match, Tina began to take a few more risks. She managed to win her serve, but then had a nasty fright in Laura’s service game. While running at full-stretch to intercept an attempted pass, she slipped and abruptly did the splits (almost) on the damp grass. She squealed in horror and immediately closed her legs, pulling her skirt down to cover her neatly-trimmed pubic hair.There were one or two puzzled stares from the crowd, but the glimpse had been too brief for them to be sure about what they had seen. Tina could almost hear their comments: “Did you just see what I saw? Well, I’m not sure… it looked like she’s not wearing panties… Of course, I could be wrong…”She got to her feet, somewhat rattled, and returned to the baseline. The next couple of points went badly, and soon she found herself facing the wrong end of a set point. Biting her lip in anxiety, she was almost wrong-footed as the ball came hurtling down the court to her right-hand side. She launched herself towards it.Her foot slipped, and shot backwards. She sank to the floor as the ball whipped past her unmet. Her skirt had ridden up again and she hastily pulled it down as she got to her feet. Again, the whispers…“Game and first set to Miss Lessing,” announced the umpire.Tina sighed unhappily and prepared to serve. The lack of a bra certainly had not severely handicapped her opponent’s game. In fact, she seemed to have acquired a new confidence and was making very few errors. Still, her serve was not strong and could be beaten.By serving well, and taking some judicious risks, Tina succeeded in winning her service game. Smiling to herself as she sat down, she decided to up the stakes in the battle for the press’s attention. As surreptitiously as she could, she unclasped her bra and slipped it off, pulling it out through the left arm-hole of her t-shirt and dropping it into her bag. Immediately the damp t-shirt clung to her bare breasts, and with an involuntary shiver she realised she could just make out her nipples through the thin material. She was sure that the press cameras would also be able to see them.Without bra or panties, she walked out on to the court in just a cut-off t-shirt and a microskirt. Feeling naked and vulnerable but also rather aroused, she winked at Laura before her opponent served. The sensation of playing with no restraints on her breasts, however, was too unfamiliar and her return went wide. Laura’s next serve she pounded back into the net.Cursing to herself, she prepared to try again. She was annoyed with herself for having so much difficulty playing without a bra, when Laura seemed to be managing just fine.‘She probably practices without a bra all the time,’ she thought to herself suddenly. ‘Oh heck, what have I let myself in for?’ She lost that game, and then her own service game. Now 2:1 down, she watched as Laura prepared to serve once again. Her nineteen-year-old opponent’s crop top seemed a little skimpier somehow, and Tina frowned.What had the dratted girl done now? A brief rendezvous at the net in the next point answered her question.Laura had folded over part of her top, so that not only was it now more revealing, but it was also serving to keep her breasts in place more effectively. This was a clever plan, but it was risky – too much bouncing and Laura’s breasts would pop out from underneath the crop top. No doubt that added to the girl’s thrill.The drizzle began again, but not before Tina had broken serve, and then held on to her own serve, to bring the score to 3:2. As the two girls sat down in their respective places, the umpire leaned over to speak to Tina.“Miss Hathaway?” he said.Tina looked up guiltily. She folded her arms across her chest, convinced he was going to reprimand her for removing her bra. But she was mistaken.“How’s the court?” he asked. “I’m considering abandoning play, but it’s up to you two. Miss Lessing is happy to continue, so it’s your decision.”Tina thought for a moment. Martin was not back yet, but he surely would be soon. And she was beginning to play better now. Finally she was back in the lead, and she was becoming confident she could stay ahead until the end of this set. Furthermore, she was enjoying the way the drizzle was making her t-shirt more see-through every minute. “I’m okay for the moment,” she said. “It’s not that bad out there.”“Very well,” said the umpire, nodding.Tina took a swig from her water bottle, then got up and returned to the court.Two lost games later, she was regretting her decision. The drizzle had stopped, but the ground was still rather wet and slippery. She no longer felt she had an excuse for requesting that play be abandoned, and her t-shirt was not getting any more transparent. Facing what could possibly be her penultimate game of this tournament, she decided to go all out in her efforts to win the publicity battle. If she could not win the match, at least she could still steal the next day’s headlines from that upstart Laura.Carefully and deliberately, she poured the remaining contents of her water bottle over her chest, making sure she covered both breasts equally. The material quickly turned almost completely transparent, and despite herself she gasped at the sight of her breasts staring back at her. The wet t-shirt clung tightly to every contour and concealed nothing.Holding her head high (while trying not to meet anyone’s gaze), she marched out on to the court once again. Laura did the same, but then her jaw dropped as she saw Tina’s transformation. Tina saw her giggle and then hold up a thumb in admiring support.“Miss Hathaway…” came the umpire’s voice over the loudspeaker.Tina trotted over to speak to him.The umpire leaned over and said, “Enough is enough, Miss Hathaway. This is not a wet t-shirt contest, it is a tennis match. The new rules regarding the dress code are there to encourage freedom of expression, not indecent behaviour. Do you have another shirt?”“I’m afraid not,” confessed Tina.The umpire sighed. “And where is your bra?”“It broke,” Tina lied.“All right, but one more lewd act on your part and I will disqualify you and ban you from the tournament. The whole tone of this event has dropped through the floor, and I’m damned if I’m going to take it any more.”Tina nodded. “I understand.” Rather subdued, she returned to the court.The game went badly. Tina found her t-shirt highly distracting, and with every bounce it rode higher and higher and threatened to expose her breasts to the world. Soon it was revealing as much flesh as Laura’s crop top.Nevertheless, she liked the effect and did not attempt to replace it, until she heard a warning cough from the umpire. She hastily pulled it down.She lost that game, and prepared to serve to stay in the match. She served well, but a good return surprised her and she failed to clear the net with her follow-up shot. Then she noticed that her vigorous serve had resulted in her t-shirt being hoisted up high on her chest. Only a half-inch of material extended below the lower curve of her breasts. Rather reluctantly, she pulled the t-shirt down.The next few serves had similar effects, but a longer point almost resulted in her breasts popping free of the t-shirt entirely. She won two points, but also lost two.So now she was at match point, again, and this time her predicament was even worse. What could she do? If she preserved her modesty and lost, was that any better than going all out and perhaps being banned from the rest of the tournament? Probably not.She served, and at once felt her t-shirt climb up again. But she ignored it and concentrated on trying to predict where Laura’s return would end up.It was short – that was good. Tina raced forward and whipped the ball over to the far corner. But Laura, realising the danger, was already almost there. She hammered it back down the line, and Tina had to lunge to reach it. She made it, just, and the ball bounced high off her racquet – a mis-hit.Laura was quick to take advantage, her chest bouncing as she ran around the back of the ball. She attempted to fire it down the right-hand line, but Tina caught it at the net with a drop volley. However, it bounced harder off her racquet than she had intended, leaving Laura with an easy opportunity for a lob. Tina raced backwards, only to find to her horror that Laura was not going for the lob at all. She was responding with a drop shot of her own.Tina sprinted forwards, just reaching the ball in time. But as she dug her feet in to brake herself, they slid on the wet grass, shooting right under the net. Tina yelped as she fell to the ground and slid forwards on her back. Her skirt, caught by the net as she passed beneath it, was yanked up to her waist. Her t-shirt was pulled up by sheer friction, both on the ground and on the bottom of the net, until it was wrapped around her neck.At this point Tina came to an abrupt halt, with her head on one side of the net and her rather unclothed body on the other.The crowd fell into a stunned silence, then erupted in a cacophony of wolf-whistles, cheers and thunderous applause. The umpire’s announcement of “Game, set and match to Miss Lessing” went completely unheard. Laura, meanwhile, walked over to where Tina was lying with her pussy and breasts fully exposed to the crowd and to the world’s photographers. She looked down at Tina and smiled.“You win,” she said.THE END