It all started, believe it or not, with badminton. Yep, badminton. I had played quite a bit in college and in the military, and was pretty good – not Olympic good, but good enough to compete with almost anyone. Then, life interrupted and I didn't play seriously for something like 20 years. Finally, after marrying my late wife, I found a club and started playing again.
The people there were generally very nice – they were generous with their time and advice, as well as in selecting me to play. I think they could also see that I took it seriously – unusual for an American – and I improved fairly quickly to the point where I could reasonably play doubles against almost anyone. Along the way, I got to be friends with several of the people there. It was something my wife encouraged and supported – it was a good way for me to get out of the house, and to do something I enjoyed. I even played in a couple of tournaments, getting blown away in one but winning a couple of matches in the second and third.
A lot of the crowd was international – badminton not being a big American pasttime. While most of the players were men, probably about a quarter of them were women. As you might expect, the majority were Asian or Indian, with a couple of Canadians and the odd American thrown in. Probably because I was seen as "safe," the women there weren't hesitant to join me for doubles games, even if they were quite a bit better than I was. We'd also chat a lot about life – kids, work, badminton, etc.
Several of the women who came were students, either at the main state university or the state's engineering and science school, a bit farther away. One of them had just graduated high school and was going to one of my graduate schools. One night, while waiting for a court to open up, one of the women came up to me and asked if I'd like to practice. I agreed, and we became somewhat regular warm-up/practice partners, as well as doubles partners. As time went on, I learned that she was a graduate student in materials science at our state's science and engineering school. Originally from California, her father was Chinese and her mother American. She'd gone to UC San Diego and had moved here to earn her master's degree and possibly her PhD. Her name, of course, was Celina.
She was 25 when we first met. If I hadn't been so madly in love with my wife, I'd have certainly asked her out, and to hell with the age difference. She was tall – almost 5'9" – and lean. She had a version of the stereotypical Chinese woman's figure – large but somewhat shallow breasts, with nipples that would poke through her athletic bra when she got excited. From what I could see, she had a flat, smooth stomach and a small waist for her height, along with somewhat narrow hips. Those hips joined with legs that looked like they went on forever – long, slender and well-muscled, with the kind of foot you'd expect – long but narrow.
Her face didn't have the typical Chinese look – you could see that part of her ancestry was Oriental without quite being able to place her. Her hair, though, was a giveaway – it was the classic Chinese blue-black, soft hair, which she usually kept short but let grow as time went by, eventually needing to tie in a ponytail for badminton. Her eyes were a dark, liquid brown, with a bit of the classic "almond" effect common to Chinese. All in all, she struck me as very pretty without being the type of woman who would make men's heads snap around in a bar – absent her height, anyway!
She usually wore outfits that were entirely appropriate for the rec center we played badminton in. Usually she wore fairly short shorts that gave a great view of her long legs, and a form fitting but not skin-tight athletic top. Those tops, though, had v-necks, so that you could almost but not quite see her breasts, and that let your imagination run wild. Every once in a while I'd end up with a look straight in, seeing her thin sports bra. And every once in a while she'd see that I could see, and started giving me a little smile before she'd briskly announce the score and get the game moving again.
A number of people at badminton would go out afterwards, whether on the Wednesday nights or the Sunday morning/afternoons we played on. I'd occasionally go with them, more often after my wife passed. Celina would occasionally come as well, and on a number of occasions our conversations would get more suggestive. A couple of times I could see Celina talking to other women in the group, who would then glance at me and continue talking. In hindsight, I can see that her diction got more and more flirty and suggestive – she'd ask if I'd like to "play" with her as opposed to just announcing that we were up as a doubles team. She'd often giggle just a little bit after putting it that way, and I didn't notice that she started to get more flirtatious as time went on. In other words, I should have seen it coming.
In defense, though, I was still recovering after my wife's passing. That was something I was totally not ready to handle, and it was all I could do to parent my son and get to work and to badminton when work allowed.
So when the time came, it seemed like it came out of nowhere. The night had started out like any other Wednesday – I got there about 6 and warmed up, played a couple of games, and saw people arriving after work. Celina walked in about 7 and stretched a bit, and we did some hitting to warm her up. We played our normal mixed doubles games and a number of us went out to a restaurant across the highway for a drink.
It was still early enough in the semester that I didn't think anything of it when she joined us. She wound up next to me at the bar – again, nothing unusual – and we sipped our drinks and chatted about the games, weather, school for her and work for me, and so on. We finished our drinks and switched to soda – I have a strict one drink maximum if I'm driving anywhere within an hour – and she finally seemed to come a decision. She turned to face me square, turning our barstools so we were facing each other, our legs sort of sandwiching – my right on the outside, her left, then my left, then her right. She was wearing just a t-shirt over what looked like a thin sports bra that may have done a great job of supporting her while playing, but did nothing to hide how erect her nipples were. On that, I was wrong – but more on that later.
She took a deep breath, looked at me, and then said, "Can I talk to you about something?"
I saw a slight flush on her face, and could feel her legs gripping mine – it was quite nice, and I could feel myself stirring just a little bit.
"Sure," I said. "What's up?"
"Well, you can probably tell that I like you. And I'm very sorry about your wife. And it's OK if you say no – but I want to ask a favor of you." She took both my hands in hers and looked me squarely in the eyes.
I'm thinking, "Of course!" to myself, wondering what on earth could need so many outs.
"Ask, and ye shall receive," I said, jokingly referencing Shakespeare (or was it the Bible? Doesn't matter.).
"OK. I've learned a lot from you – about badminton, about life, about people. And everyone at the club says you're a good guy. And that fits with what I want."
She paused, giving me a chance to say something self-deprecating – "Oh, you're too kind. I just –"
She cut me off. "No, that's not what I mean. I have not had a great sex life, and want one. So, I want you to teach me sex."
I think my jaw dropped – I'm sure my surprise was written all over my face. I felt her hands take one of mine as she continued: "I've had sex – I'm not a virgin. But it's always been . . . eh. Not exciting. Not as fun as it should be. And I've read so much about how great it should be – and I want that. I think you're the right man to teach that to me."
"Celina, I . . . wow. I have no idea what to say . . . Do you know what you're asking?" I was fumbling, completely taken aback. If you had asked me to bet, I'd have thought she was going to ask if I could find her a good cheap car or a legal question.
"Yes, I think I do. That's why I've been talking to all the other women in the club. All but one of them suggested you. You're smart, hard-working, caring . . . and really hot," the last bit blurted out.
