They were just trying to have a friendly game between the two of them. There was an amateur tournament next weekend and Patricia was hoping to take it. If she did that, then she was qualified for the next level, and if she did well enough there, well, there would be a lot of questions in the air about what happened after that.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, just wanted to play.  She had played throughout high school, and even went to college thanks to a partial tennis scholarship. Since then though, she hadn’t had the chance to play at all.  The idea of hooking up with an old friend and having the chance to play? To forget about loan processing?  That was more than enough.  Sure, Pat was probably good enough and still practiced enough to whip her up and down the court but it could be worse.

Neither of them had membership to a tennis club. Patricia didn’t have the cash and Elizabeth didn’t have the time. So they went to a public park and claimed a court. It was fine, there was practically no one there this early on a lazy Sunday. Just a guy on the bench feeding pigeons.

It was hot.  Muggier than Patty had expected.  It was only the third game before she broke out the water bottle.  By the end of the set, she had poured her water bottle all over herself, trying to keep cool.  Eliza had given her an odd look, but she looked pretty miserable herself. It was weird that it was so humid. Patty had checked the weather on her phone before she came, and it was only supposed to be like, 30% humidity.

Also weird? Eliza didn’t seem to be wearing a sports bra.

By the fourth game of the second set, Patty was having trouble remembering the score. Luckily, by then, the guy was done with his pigeons and had turned to face them.  It didn’t seem quite right that they were both at Love-Love. Weren’t they at that the last point?  Lizzi didn’t even attempt to return her serve, and yet it was still Love-Love?

Lizzi dropped her racket and went to the man on the bench.  She ran a hand up his leg.  “Fifteen-love,” he announced. Lizzi giggled.  She popped her tits out of her blouse.  They weren’t nearly that big in college. “30-Love!”

This was just out of line!  Trixie had to object to their line judge’s behavior. Lizzi had the man’s shorts down by the time Trixie had climbed over the net. Her skirt had gone…somewhere, she didn’t care.

“Forty-Fifteen,” he said, as Trixie stood in front of him, a hand down a pair of lime green panties that she didn’t put on this morning. Trixie dropped to her knees and took one of his balls into her mouth and then ran her tongue from base to tip. 

“Advantage! Match point!” he called, as both Lizzi and Trixie bent over in front of him.