A flirty tennis session between two women takes an unexpected turn, leading to a steamy locker-room lesson in desire — and a first-time lesbian experience.
Thank you to this subscriber for sharing your enticing story.
Please enjoy No Balls, Please!
E.R.
Dear Eros,
I never imagined I’d be writing something like this, but here goes. I’ve always thought of myself as straight, never even entertaining the idea of being with another woman — until she walked into my life.
I’m a tennis student, and my coach… well, she’s athletic, confident, and downright stunning. There’s something about the way she moves on the court — powerful yet graceful, every step and swing flowing with effortless precision — that left me catching my breath more than once. And those short skirts she wears during lessons… I have to admit, part of me was always distracted, fighting not to stare.
Her playful flirting started innocently enough: teasing comments about my footwork, brushing past me when she demonstrated a serve, the kind of light touches that felt electric.
One day after practice, she called me into the locker room — something about correcting my swing, she said. But when I walked in, the air felt different, charged. The door closed behind us, and I became acutely aware of her presence, my curiosity mingling with a nervous flutter in my chest. She laughed softly at my hesitation, that perfect laugh that made my stomach tighten. Then she leaned in, just slightly, her mouth tantalisingly close to mine, and my mind went completely blank.
I don’t even remember exactly how it started. One moment I was standing there, heart racing, and the next I was pressed against her, our lips meeting. It was soft at first, slow and gentle, then urgent, hungry. She tasted incredible, and when I let my hands slip around her waist and wander over her athletic frame, feeling the strength in her body, I realised I wanted more.