Hi. I'm Ann. My husband Rick is a big fan of these stories and I have one to contribute. It may not get down and dirty like some of you (male) writers do, but let's see where it takes me. It may not actually be finished yet...
I'm in my 40's, a thin white girl with no kids. I weigh 4 pounds more than I did at the end of high school, and I like to think my body looks exactly the same. The advantage of a small bust.
I've been playing in our metro tennis league for 20 + years and play with a team that takes the game very seriously. We routinely hire a coach to assist with practice and tune up our game.
Three years ago we had a coach named Gary, a muscular black man, mid-30's with broad shoulders, a wide smile and a big heart. Over the course of the next two seasons we got quite close, and the physical intimacy made the sexual tension ever-present. You can imagine-sweaty in my tennis clothes, having Gary hold my wrists or waist from behind while he adjusted my posture and my swing. I often felt the bulge of his cock through his shorts on my backside.