Extra Social Badminton

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I don’t often write true tales because real life, at least my real life, is not as exciting (or horrendous, depending on your point of view) as the stories I write. But a reader asked me if I had any real experiences to relate. My first inclination was to refuse, but there was one incident, now sufficiently dated that I feel comfortable writing about it. It’s not a first time story, nor the greatest sex I’ve ever had, but it comes close.

Many years ago when I was still a graduate student at UofT, I was a regular player in the faculty social badminton club. The club was nominally for staff, but graduate students often helped make up the numbers and provide a little spice to the competition. And although the club was deemed social, nearly every game was a contest and games were closely fought. Well, that’s fairly typical I suppose, I’ve never played at any club where competition wasn’t fierce. But we were also there for fun and mostly everyone got on. Sure we had our favorite partners and combos for games, but we would mix up the pairs throughout the night. And we did mostly play doubles, because the Uni gym only had four courts. While there were slightly more male members, there was also many of us girls and a good range of ages from fairly young students (I was twenty at the time) through to professors overdue for retirement.

Sometimes there was a little bit of light hearted flirting but never anything serious. In fact, one of the things I liked about the club was it felt safe and the guys were friendly but not continually trying to hit on me. Discussion mostly centered on how research was going or what latest crazy bit of bureaucracy the Uni officials had dreamed up.

I often partnered a man I’ll call Joe. Joe was a fiftyish lecturer in one of the sciences, I forget now exactly which. We worked well together on the court, his experience coupled with my younger speed meant we won more than our fair share of games. He had a knack for placing the shuttle right where he knew the opposition would end up playing to where I was waiting to clinch the point.

One particularly busy week I forgot to wash my usual badminton clothes and ended up having to wear something else. I normally wore a plain black shirt with a Lycra sports bra underneath. I found another sporty top to wear, but the real problem was I couldn’t wear my usual Lycra sports bra and had to settle for something a bit looser and lighter.

That night as we were walking off the court after another win, Joe said he liked my top. I had to agree it was quite nice in black with a tasteful iridescent dragon curled around some flowers running across the front and onto the sleeves. Anyway, I twirled around laughing, then stood facing him so he could have a better look. I realized my nipples were rock hard and no doubt making erotic dimples in the front of my shirt. The ordinary bra was to blame. The whole night, my nipples had been rubbing against the material with every lunge I made. I was horny as hell.

Joe smiled, patted me şişli elit escort lightly on the shoulder, again saying it was nice shirt and we sat down with the conversation moving on to other things. Like I said, it was a safe place for me to be. That night I masturbated myself to sleep – thinking of Joe.

Several weeks went by, but I didn’t forget Joe’s compliment about my shirt. If anything my fantasies got worse and worse – and you’ll already know I’ve got an overactive sexual imagination. I dreamed playing badminton naked with Joe, sucking him off on the sidelines, feeling him deep inside me, with dragons watching on. All sorts of stupid stuff like that. It was quite confusing for me actually, how could I be physically attracted to someone as old as Joe.

In my saner waking moments, I knew Joe’s compliment about was shirt was just that. He honestly liked the shirt, he didn’t see me in a sexual way. After all he was thirty years or so my senior, if anything he probably only thought of me as an athletic student.

One night I decided to wear the dragon top again. There was no reason not to, Joe would like it, and there was nothing wrong with wearing the shirt. But then in a moment of madness, recalling how horny I had gotten last time I wore the shirt, I decided to go along without any bra.

Why? Why? Why? Or more like Stupid, Stupid, Stupid!

Every game was sweet agony, my breasts would swing around with each movement – and you move a lot in badminton. Every bounce caused my nipples to rub on the material of the shirt and they soon swelled up rather painfully. The whole episode was detracting from my play and I missed a lot of easy shots.

In one of the earlier games of the night I was paired with someone whose name I forget against Joe and a woman called Michelle. I’m sure every time I reached up to hit above my head, that Joe and Michelle got a good view of my boobs lurching upwards and bouncing around.

A couple of games later while Joe was on the sidelines, I caught him watching me, and damn if I didn’t feel myself moisten down south.

Still later, I was on court with Joe. By this time my breasts were really starting to ache from all the movement. My nipples continued to throb, and I was really aroused. I deliberately bumped into Joe a few times during the game. We managed to win, I don’t know how, I was playing so badly. At the end of the game, I gave Joe a big hug pushing my breasts hard into his torso. This was a bit over the top for our club, players would sometimes high-five, occasionally shake hands, but hugging, no.

Joe gave a little embarrassed chuckle and led me off the court. While I sat down, Joe went off to join another game. I was busy mentally chastising myself “That was way too far over the top, Linda” along with thoughts like “where am I going with this?”

Soon the gym started to empty as people headed for home. I looked around for Joe, perhaps thinking to apologize, but I couldn’t see him anywhere. şişli escort So I headed for the showers.

Most of the players went straight home, only a few used the changing rooms, and even fewer used the gym showers – at least in the ladies and I imagine it was the same story in the mens. I always found the immediacy of the gym shower quite refreshing and particularly that night the warm water running over my aching breasts was a welcome relief. After a couple of minutes, the brief flurry in the changing room quietened down as everyone else had left.

I heard the outer door open and close. To start with I expected Michelle to appear as she also regularly used the showers, or perhaps the (female) janitor who sometimes came in to empty the rubbish bins. When neither appeared, I thought I must have been mistaken and it had been someone quietly leaving.

I continued to shower, enjoying the water running down my body, and lightly rubbing my hands over my body to help wash off the sweat. In fact, I was getting a little warm down south again, and contemplated masturbating in the shower. I decided I best get home before starting with that, so I turned off the water.

I walked around the corner from the shower and there was Joe sitting quietly in his underwear on the bench seat. I stopped dead, my mouth agape, my hands going every which why trying to cover my nakedness before clamping them over my mouth to stifle a scream.

Joe calmly opened his arms and said, “Come here, its alright, we’re alone.”

I mutely went to him and climbed into his lap. I know it sounds sleazy, but it didn’t feel like it at the time. It seemed entirely natural.

He enveloped me with his arms drawing me in close. My nipples sprang back to attention as my breasts encountered his chest. Part of me was thinking “this is isn’t right, I need to to stop this,” but the rest of me wanted this so badly.

I bent my mouth to his and his breath was heady and wonderful. His hands were lightly running up and down my back, my neck, round behind my ears, and down again. With each movement he sluiced water droplets off my skin. I was afire, with a molten river flowing into my nether regions.

I felt Joe harden and his engorged penis popped out the top of his underwear and I could feel it swelling upwards between our bellies as we continued to kiss, now with tongues entangled.

One of Joe’s hands found a swollen nipple are he proceeded to lightly and expertly squeeze it. Each touch made me hotter until I was moaning into his mouth. I was ripe for the taking and Joe knew it.

He gently lifted me and I felt the tip of his penis slip across the folds of my labia, until Joe lowered me slightly and I could feel the head of his cock parting my lips. For my part I was trying to sink down, I wanted him in me, wanted him like nothing that had gone before. Don’t get me wrong, I had enjoyed sex many times before this, but this wanting was stronger than anything I had experienced until şişli eve gelen escort then.

Joe lowered me slowly, oh ever so slowly, onto his penis. I swear I felt it sliding deeper each step of the way. I kept thinking he was right in, then he would lower me a little further, and I would gasp again. But eventually I had him to the hilt.

Joe would then lift me up almost to the point of removal before lowering me again. Each time he lowered me, he would alter than angle slightly so that we was probing around exploring my insides from different directions.

When his mouth slid down onto my nipple I came hard. I was completely gone, I could feel my pussy throbbing around his penis. Joe’s own motions were picking up, he was no longer gently lowering me, but raising me, then simply dropping me, so that his cock rocketed up inside me.

At some point he pulled out of me and I thought he must have come, but no he simply wanted to change positions. He had me stand and bend over forwards across the bench. Then he entered me from behind. This time he really let me have it, thrusting in and out really fast and using my breasts as handles to pull me forwards and backwards.

It was all I could do to support myself with my arms. None of my younger lovers had ever lasted this long, in fact, usually they came within seconds and I was left wanting. But Joe was different, I had already come once, and he was still going strong.

He started to groan and got even faster. I was panting like mad. At the last moment he reached down and with his fingers massaged my clit bringing me off for a second time. My arms and legs went all wobbly and I very nearly collapsed face first onto the bench. Just at that moment, Joe hauled me backwards one last time and squeezing down hard on my breasts he shuddered and came deep inside me. It was wonderful.

In the aftermath, Joe carried me back into the shower and started the water again. We didn’t have any cloth or sponge, but Joe took some soap and soon had me lathered up. The feeling of his hands sliding all over my slippery skin was arousing me yet again.

Joe’s erection was back as well, but my pussy was feeling a little raw, so I didn’t really want more, although I would have let Joe if he had insisted. But forestalling that I kneeled down and took him in my mouth. It’s not something I normally like doing, but on this night, with Joe, I had no qualms whatsoever.

Actually it was quite difficult to breathe, with Joe in my mouth and water cascading down all over my head, but I did a credible job.

Joe warned me when he was about to come and pulled out of my mouth. He erupted all over my face, but the shower soon dealt with all that.

And that was really the end. We finished washing up, got dressed, said goodnight and headed off to our respective homes.

It wasn’t until a few days later that I appreciated the risk Joe had taken. Things could have gone quite differently if I hadn’t been receptive. I still don’t understand how he could know what I wanted. I mean I suppose I gave some clues, but even so.

It only ever happened the once. Afterwards, Joe and I still regularly badminton played together and remained friendly. I even wore the dragon shirt on a few other occasions, although always with a bra underneath.


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