Soccer Mom - Chapter Eight
By Pac
Terri and Eric take a stab at competing with each other


During the course of the summer, we enjoyed that wonderful get-to-know-you phase in 
our relationship.

The one thing we did not do, though, was participate in activities that would put us in 
direct competition  Terri avoided these situations deftly, and even though I would slip and 
suggest a mildly competitive activity, such as miniature golf, she always had an alternative 
plan that did not involve directly going head to head.  Even events like board games were 
anathema to her, and she dodged them as gently as she could, finding something else she 
could do while the girls and I laughed and played.

It was okay with me for a while, but at a certain point, I thought it might be good to get 
the competitiveness out in the open.  I gently tried to say that I was a good sport and that 
I could have a fun time with her, even if we did just a simple, fun, barely competitive 
thing, like playing cards or checkers.  She wouldn't budge, though.

"I just don't want to take a chance, Eric," she said, as patiently as could be.  "I am so 
crazy about you, and it would kill me if my winning everything all the time would drive a 
wedge into it."

"I understand your concern, Terri, and don't want to push you, but I just was hoping to 
see just what has you so worried."  I said in response.

She sighed, having had this talk a few times now. She looked sadly at her feet, and then 
raised her eyes.

"Okay, Eric."  She said, looking evenly at me.  "What did you have in mind?"

"I have been eager to play racquetball for a while, and I enjoy it so much that I wanted to 
share it with you."  I said.

"I've never played, but I'll do this.  For you." she said, and looked at her feet again.  
"Are you really sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," I said.  "Why don't we meet at lunch on Wednesday, since you said your 
schedule was pretty light.  We can just play a friendly game, and I'll show you the basic 
rules."

"Okay," she said

She tried to sound chipper for my sake.

"Don't worry, honey.  It will be fine.  I just play to have fun, not to destroy my 
opposition.  And I've even had fun playing with people who were really gung ho.  I just 
want to show you that you don't have to worry like you did with your ex."

She didn't say anything else about it, but changed the subject to world politics, and we 
had a lively discussion.  I could tell she was worried about our Wednesday lunch date, 
because she was extra touchy-feely and pleasant, like she was apologizing in advance.  I 
wondered what she could possibly be like in competition to make her this nervous.  I 
resolved to myself, come what may, I would show her she had nothing to worry about.

Wednesday came, and she arrived at the racquet club with a much bigger than normal 
racquet bag.  It looked more like a tennis duffel than a small racquetball bag.

"Wow, that's a big bag," I joked at her, and she smiled at me.

"Well, I didn't know what to get, so I got a lot of everything," she said.

She opened the bag, and the first thing I noticed was that it was stuffed almost to 
overflowing with racquetballs.  She had bought at least a dozen packs of them, and I 
almost laughed, but held my tongue.  She also had bought herself the tiniest racquetball 
racquet I had ever seen, and I recognized them as the ones I used to see some of the 
older guys using.  The one I had had a bigger sweet-spot, so you could put more power 
into shots, even if they weren't dead-center.

She had a pretty pink glove, and she had changed her suit into a baggy shirt that was way 
oversized, I assumed to accommodate her chest, but she soon showed me the real 
reason.  

We went into the noisy court, one of the ones that looked like a bomb shelter, with a little 
slitted window on the wall. She pulled the shirt up over her head to reveal a pair of 
spandex shorts clinging to her incredible hips and a huge sports bra that tightly pushed her 
huge breasts against her body.  They were so packed in there that they didn't bounce at 
all!  I was just amazed and approached her.

"That has to be the most tantalizing racquetball outfit I have ever seen," I said, and 
brought my hand up to the bra, sliding it over the surface of her one breast.

"Mmm," she said, all smiles and sweetness.  "It's custom-made.  I wore it for you... and 
so I wouldn't get a black eye!

I wanted in the worst way to explore her marvelous outfit further, but I tore myself away 
with a laugh and started to get my gear ready.

She seemed to prepare for everything, as I had realized in the last few weeks I spent with 
her, and had brought earbuds to lessen the sound of all the echoes.  She offered me a 
pair, but I politely declined.  I noticed she slipped them into her shorts instead of putting 
them in her bag outside the court.

We started off lightly, and I got behind her to show her proper form for serving and 
hitting the ball, and I couldn't help but press my hips tightly into hers as she bent forward 
in front of me.

"Oh, is this what you had in mind?" she said, looking back over her shoulder at me.  
"Maybe this will be fun after all."

She still sounded worried, but she masked it by putting on the friendliest face.  She put a 
little bump into her hips and her hard round ass pushed strongly into me, causing my 
manhood to stir in my pants.

I kept up the touching, guiding her arm through range of motion in the swing.  She was a 
righty to my lefty, but the motion is the same, just reversed, so I held her body and 
guided her arm.  She was very patient with me and enjoyed the contact, but I could tell 
she was ready to start.

"Okay, can you practice serve and volley, so I can see your form while you do it?" she 
asked.

"Sure, we can just hit the ball lightly to warm up, but I won't play around on serve.  I'll 
use the form I do when I play a serious game."

"That sounds good," she said.

So I lined up in the serving box, crouching into the form I would use to deliver a ground-
hugging scorcher, but hit the ball lightly, and it lobbed over to her.

She dug in, a fierce look of concentration on her face and annihilated the ball!  She had 
picture-perfect form as she approached the ball, bending her knees deep into the swing, 
and connected with a power that was just mind-boggling.

The ball shot so fast off the wall, not more than an inch off the ground, that I could barely 
follow it as it sailed past me in a perfect kill-shot.  It hit the abutment of the side wall and 
floor so perfectly that it rolled instead of rebounded.  A perfect kill-shot on her first 
return!

"Holy..." I said, wide-eyed, and she got a sorry look.

"I know.  I told you.  I just can't help it." She said, looking pained.  "When you told me 
about our game, I got on the 'net and did a little research and watched some pro 
matches.   I figured that I'd be putting more power on the hits than those guys, so I 
brought the extra balls.  It looked like they broke a ball or two in each match, so I wasn't 
sure what I'd do... but I was guessing it would be more."

I was, as always, blown away by her physicality.  The report of the ball off the wall was 
like a gunshot.  I've heard some hard hits, but this was just astounding.

"Do you want these now?" she asked knowingly, and I nodded, taking the ear buds from 
her.

So much for lobbing a few light volleys!  I served a few more serves, much harder than 
the first, which she also destroyed, and then we were ready to play a real game.  I gave 
her first serve, and she served rockets to me.  I could return about one in three, and 
usually my returns were so off-balance that she just crushed them as they got close to 
her.  She broke two balls in her first ten services, the last one so dramatically that the 
pieces bounced off the walls on either side of the court!

I couldn't help myself.  I walked over to her on one of her serves, and she was so totally 
absorbed in her preparation that she didn't notice.  The look of concentration was so 
fierce on her face I was almost wary of getting close.  I tapped her gently on the 
shoulder, and her body tensed, the muscles swelling up hugely in her back and shoulders.

I guess that is what passed for a shock for her, and she stood up, looking at me with a 
mix of surprise and sheepishness. 

"Sorry, I didn't see you come over," she said, standing.  As soon as she got completely 
upright, I pressed hard into her, kissing her like mad when she paused.  I would have 
pushed her into the wall if I could have, but her strong body took everything I could dish 
out like it was a gentle bump.  It didn't even look like she braced against me and still I 
came to a dead stop against those marvelous breasts.  The only noticeable effect my 
pushing into her had was that her breasts pressed a little flatter as our bodies came 
together.

Her eyes shot up in surprise and she melted into me.  We made out for about five 
minutes, our hands roaming over each other's bodies, then parted.  She had the most 
sublime smile on her face.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself.  You're turning me on like crazy!" I said.

"You're not bothered yet?"  she said, and I shook my head.

"I'm not bothered at all!" I yelled over the sound deadening earbuds as I walked back 
into position.  "You keep going as hard as you like!"

She smiled back to me, then got in serving form, and the intense look returned.

I had managed at that point to score 1 point to her 9... maybe I threw her game off for 
that single serve enough to give me serve back and score that point.  I don't know, but I 
took it.  It was my last time at service the rest of that game.

Throughout that first game, I was working my ass off to keep up with her unbelievable 
serves, and she was completely fresh.  I had to do way more scrambling than her as I felt 
her style out.  It was basically a ton of power and precision, and most of the time she 
barely had to move from the service box during our volleys.  She was acing every other 
serve, either through me not being able to return it, or by doing what was essentially a kill 
shot on the serve.  She would hit them so perfectly that they would cross the service line 
and hit the wall and floor right in the corner, and roll away from the wall, impossible to 
return.  She was so consistently doing it... I've never seen pro matches with that many 
killing aces!

My one serve for point was a really good blazing shot that nearly aced in the corner, but 
she amazingly dug it out and sent it high on the wall, forcing me back to the far wall of the 
court.  I knew I had a good kill, but she seemed to anticipate where I was going to send 
it in mid-swing, and streaked across the court.  I put the ball right where she expected it, 
and she sent another defensive high shot back.  I repeated that kill about six times until I 
finally hit one so perfect that it rolled.  Even then, she was right on top of it to return it.  I 
had never seen someone move so fast in my life!  She got from one side of the court to 
the other seemingly in the time it took me to blink, and she saved balls that I have never 
seen anyone save before.  Even off-balance like she was for that entire serve and hitting 
every return defensively, she managed to hold off six... fucking SIX... killshots like that.  
Every one I thought was a winner, unreachable by any other human being, but she pulled 
them out... her athleticism was off the charts!  

The first game was over in a flash:  15-1, her win, of course.  The second game was an 
even faster shut-out, with me able to get my racquet on about five serves total.   The third 
ended up with me finally figuring out a little strategy, and getting the game all the way to 
15-5.  It was astounding.  This was the first time she ever played!  Maybe she really was 
unbeatable at everything....

I was sweating like crazy from running all over the place, and I think if I didn't train so 
hard for endurance, I would probably have fallen over dead on the court.  She, of 
course, wasn't winded in the least, and a very light sheen of sweat covered her.  The 
deep crevice between her breasts, though, was very sweaty, and that line of darker bra 
against the lighter drew my eye and made my shorts tent up as my arousal grew.  

Her nipples were fully aroused, and I could tell that she loved to compete with me, even 
though she was still worried about it.

She didn't seem worried at that moment, though.  She had the most beautiful smile on her 
face.

"Oh, thank you so much, Eric!  I had the most wonderful time!"  She ran over and just 
snatched me off the ground, holding me against her, her hands on my ass as she pressed 
me hard into her big chest.

She kissed me with so much passion that I was erect in a heartbeat, and that incredible 
outfit wasn't much help in quelling my arousal.

"If we keep this up, I might have to wear your big t-shirt out of here." I said between 
kisses.

"Well, we do have the court for another half hour..." she said, and I realized that was 
true.  

She mopped the floor with me so fast that we had quite a bit of court time left.

"I'm sweating so much... you really made me work!" she said, and I almost laughed at 
that.

"I think I at least won in the sweat department!" I said, as I was dripping with sweat.

"Here, let me help with that," she said, and pushed me to my knees, then rubbed my face 
all over her big sports bra.

Now that's how I like to dry off!

She reached down for me and lifted my body up, rubbing all of my sweaty parts against 
her chest, and I became more and more aroused as she handled me like I weighed 
nothing.  We made out for a few minutes, then she walked me over to the corner, and set 
me down, then stripped off her pants, stretching them right over her sneakers.

I pulled mine off quickly, and had barely gotten them down over my knees, when she 
pulled me into her, crushing me to her body.  She parted her legs, lowered me down, and 
just pushed my cock up into her with her strong hands. 

"Hold onto my bra," she said, urgently, and I grabbed the big straps at the shoulder.

She just pounded me up into her like a jackhammer, and it was the most erotic thing I 
ever experienced.  My feet skipped along the ground, but I wasn't putting any weight on 
them, just hanging in her strong arms as she slammed me up into her with machinegun 
rapidity.

I pulled my face into her big sports bra, rubbing against them, and my passion rose like a 
flash flood.

She was gritting her teeth together, trying not to yell out and alert the entire racquet club 
that we were getting it on in Court 5, and I could feel she was on the verge.

I was as well, and I moved my mouth over to one of her nipples poking through her 
sports bra and lightly bit it.

That did it, and she slammed me up into her so hard I though she was going to break me 
in two!  The overwhelming power did it for me, and we both came like crazy!

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry!" I said as I realized I came in her like a geyser.  

I was concerned about our talk of pregnancy, and worried that my lack of self-control 
might cause us some problems.  Needless to say, I hadn't had time to slip on a 
condom... nor did I have any in my racquetball bag of all places!

"Why?" she said, and then realized I was referring to coming in her.

"Oh, that's okay.  I got a prescription for birth control the day after our second date," 
she said.  "I'm not worried.  If you want to keep using the condoms, you can, but I'm 
okay with our 99.5% safety rate.  Those are acceptable odds for such a wonderful 
payoff!  I had wanted to talk to you about it, but I could never seem to find the right way 
of broaching it with you..."

The whole time we're discussing this, she was just casually holding my body tightly to 
her, her pussy muscles milking my cock like crazy.  It was the most intense sex I had had 
for a long time, and I really enjoyed this quickie... and the sex was awesome, too!  We 
were definitely playing regularly from now on!