Comforting Jennifer

Comforting Jennifer

by sexy_jessie (c)

Jennifer Stanton was feeling nervous, really nervous, as she sat in the locker room waiting for her Wimbledon debut. It was the first round of the 19 year old’s first ever Wimbledon and she was playing on centre court against former champion Venus Williams in fifteen minutes. Because of her excitement and anticipation Jennifer had arrived early to get ready for her match. In retrospect she realised it was probably a mistake as now she had fifteen minutes of nervously waiting with little to do.

Not that she didn’t feel confident against the former Wimbledon champion, she
was aware that Williams had done very badly at the French Open and was nursing an injury problem. Jennifer also knew she was at the top of her game, she’d never felt better than in the previous week’s qualifying and already she was beginning to get a bit of publicity and attention from the American media as their latest star. Although she had only turned professional at the start of that year she was already becoming established on the tour and had beaten a few top players so the American press were already mentioning her name as a future star.

She was nineteen and a lot of young players who she had been on the junior tour with had turned professional a couple of years earlier, but Jennifer was determined to finish high school first. As it was it had annoyed her that her competing in junior tournaments had meant she’d missed a lot of the fun her friends had been having at River Falls High School. She’d even missed the prom because she’d been playing in a tournament and had never had a real boyfriend because she had to spend her time concentrating on her tennis. Although this was what Jennifer knew she wanted to do, sometimes being on the tour felt lonely to her.

Her thoughts there were interrupted by a call for her to go on court, her Wimbledon career was about to begin. Because of the traditions of Wimbledon, Jennifer was dressed in all white, a tight white t-shirt that clung to her body and a very short white pleated skirt that showed off her long athletic legs, white socks and sneakers and a white head band around her golden blonde hair. She checked herself in the mirror and was happy with her striking athletic good looks that had caused her to be a talked about player at least as much as her potential talents. A wave of nervousness ran through Jennifer’s body but there was nothing she could do to avoid it as she grabbed her tennis bag and walked towards the court.

Venus Williams, the number four seeded player, gave Jennifer a smile that managed to be both re-assuring and patronising, as if Venus knew Jennifer was nervous and that was only natural because she was going to lose anyway. Jennifer felt a little annoyed by this and determined she would give Venus at least a good game. Jennifer noticed with envy Venus’ stylish one piece tennis dress that was attractively laced up the back and the imposing, dominant figure of her opponent who stood a good two or three inches above Jennifer’s not insubstantial 5’10”.

During the warm-up Jennifer felt herself grow in confidence as she felt she began to get used to the court and the atmosphere of the Centre Court crowd, far bigger than any she’d dealt with before. She was feeling really good about herself and, thinking back to Venus’ various injury and form problems and her own good form in qualifying Jennifer began to think she could actually win this match and really make a name for herself.

“Miss Williams to serve,” came the voice of the umpire as Jennifer bounced up and down on the baseline, her breasts wobbling in her sports bra as she prepared to take the first serve of her Wimbledon career, quietly confident in her own abilities.

***

An hour and a half later and Jennifer was back in the locker room, her head in her hands. From the moment Venus’ powerful first serve had fired down on her and Jennifer had scrambled to just get it back in the court she knew that all her confidence was misplaced and that this was one match that she would never win. Her confidence seemed to evaporate and she quickly lost the first set 6-2. At the break between sets Jennifer had sat back and thought about her game plan, which clearly wasn’t working, and had decided to become more aggressive. In the second set Jennifer’s attempts to play a game with far more volleying and attacking play helped a little but she was still completely outclassed and lost a comfortable 6-4.

Jennifer’s Wimbledon was over before it had really begun and she sat there in the locker room for ages feeling depressed, head in her hands, not even bothering to shower or change out of her white tennis outfit. There was nobody else around, Jennifer’s was the last match of the day and she had been sitting there doing nothing for quite a while.

That was why Jennifer was surprised to see the door open, there was no reason for anyone to be around right now and Jennifer was slightly confused for a moment as to what was going on and who was here when Anna Kournikova walked into the room. The popular, sexy Russian girl wasn’t competing at that year’s Wimbledon, she had an injury, so Jennifer was even more surprised to see her in the locker room.

Since coming onto the tour Jennifer had noticed that Anna had made a particular friend of her more than any of the other players. Jennifer had turned professional and begun to compete almost immediately after the retirement of Anna’s previous best friend on the tour, Martina Hingis, and Jennifer could sense that Anna was lining her up as a replacement. Anna had even suggested, before her injury, that they enter the doubles tournament at Wimbledon together, Anna was a champion doubles player. Not that Jennifer minded the attention, she was often grateful that Anna took the care to see she was accepted by the other women on the tour and she very much enjoyed the beautiful Russian star’s company.

Today Anna’s blonde hair wasn’t tied back but fell attractively over her bare exposed tanned shoulders. She was dressed in just a little blue dress and, Jennifer had to admit, was looking every inch the gorgeous sexy icon that the media had made her out to be. Jennifer herself was already being touted as a new sexy star so she valued Anna’s advice here as well.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re ok after your match,” Anna said, walking over and sitting beside Jennifer on the bench.

Jennifer smiled gratefully at her friend, “I’ll be ok, I’m just a little unhappy right now, it’s sweet of you to help.”

Anna opened up her tanned arms and gave Jennifer an affectionate hug, Jennifer could feel Anna’s breast pressed against her as her chest rose and fell with her breathing. Anna was gently stroking her back and Jennifer really did feel more relaxed and comforted as a result.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling into Anna’s hazel eyes.

Anna put a finger to Jennifer’s lips and leant over and kissed them, lightly and softly. Jennifer’s eyes widened with surprise but she really didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing as Anna Kournikova began to kiss across her neck. Anna’s left hand ran up the inside of Jennifer’s top, finding her breasts beneath the white sports bra. Jennifer moaned with pleasure as Anna began to rub her breasts, still kissing her.

Anna smiled re-assuringly and Jennifer smiled back, silently urging Anna on to what she couldn’t find the words to say. With that encouragement she could feel Anna’s other hand exploring inside her pleated skirt and slowly sliding her panties down her long, athletic legs. Jennifer gave a gasp at the moment’s joy as Anna’s hand brushed across her pussy. Anna planted another kiss on Jennifer’s lips, this one not light and brief but a slow, lingering, passionate kiss which Jennifer knew made her more aroused than ever before, her pussy dripping wet with her juices as Anna slowly inserted her first two fingers.

Jennifer began to groan with the stimulation Anna’s finger fucking was giving her pussy as Jennifer felt in more and more ecstasy. But suddenly, without warning, Anna withdrew her fingers from Jennifer’s dripping pussy. Jennifer looked at the Russian beauty with a look that conveyed surprise and confusion, she still couldn’t bring herself to give voice to her feelings. Anna had turned to Jennifer’s tennis bag and was taking out one of Jennifer’s rackets and suddenly Jennifer knew what Anna wanted to do.

The racket handle was about an inch thick, maybe a more experienced girl could take that in her without worry but for Jennifer, who’d only ever had Anna’s fingers inside her, she was less sure. Still her pussy and clitoris were so desperately stimulated she knew she needed and wanted it.

Jennifer lay back on the bench at pulled up her pleated skirt to reveal her swollen wet pussy and small amounts of downy blonde pubic hair. She spread her long legs as wide as she could to allow better access to Anna. Anna knelt between Jennifer’s legs and slowly began to force the racket handle into Jennifer’s inviting, waiting pussy. Although the first moment made Jennifer gasp with pain, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as she’d feared and soon she was practically begging for Anna to thrust it harder and deeper. Anna obliged and soon Jennifer lay spreadeagled on the bench with the racket handle being thrust in and out of her stretching pussy and her head thrown back more in screams of pleasure now than in the sighs and moans of earlier.

Suddenly Jennifer could take it no longer she felt her cunt tighten further around the hard handle of the tennis racket that was stuck inside her and felt a wave of pleasure spread from the racket handle across her body as she had a joyous orgasm, giving a final scream so loud it was quite fortunate that they were alone in the locker room. Finally, with the racket still stuck deep inside her, Jennifer collapsed back on the bench while Anna slowly slid the racket from Jennifer’s pussy and came over to kiss Jennifer on the lips.

About ten minutes later Jennifer was changed from her tennis clothes with the sticky racket back inside her tennis bag. Arm in arm with the beautiful Anna Kournikova, Jennifer left the locker room and headed back towards her hotel. She looked into the perfect face of the Russian star and experienced a happiness and contentment that she had not ever felt before on the loneliness of the international tennis tour. Her defeat to Venus Williams that afternoon now seemed a distant memory, and here, arms linked with a gorgeous fellow tennis star, that Jennifer Stanton finally found happiness.

THE END

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END