Game, Set, Match

The story you are about to read is fiction.
Please do not repost or republish without the express written consent of
Mary Catherine Whitney.

"Swoosh . . . whack!"

"No, not like that!" Jill's tennis pro Matthew said in an exasperated tone of voice for the fourth time in the last 15 minutes. "You're not turning your shoulders again. Have you already forgotten everything we've discussed today young lady?"

Jill shook her head wearily, straightened up and walked slowly over to the bench. Picking up a small, white towel she wiped a combination of sweat and tears off her face and squinted back in Matthew's direction. It was 98 degrees today, but it felt a good 20 degrees hotter on the court. Jill ached in a dozen different places at the moment and asked herself for the millionth time why on earth she'd ever decided to take up tennis on a competitive level.

Matthew looked at his watch impatiently as Jill took a long sip of water from her sports bottle and said, "Come on, we've only got 10 minutes left in your lesson. Let's go over this one more time."

She took a final sip of water, then picked up her racquet and walked back over to Matthew. "Ok Jill, let's try this again," he said. "Ready position . . ."

Jill groaned and moved to the stance she knew Matthew expected: Legs slightly apart, bent forward, a bit on her toes, bouncing back and forth in anticipation. Jill's eyes focused on the target in front of her, trying to control her breathing. Her body grew taut and she felt the humid breeze lift her navy blue tennis skirt slightly, showing off a pair of snug panties.

"Good girl," Matthew said encouragingly as she got into position and for the first time since the lesson began a slight smile crossed Jill's face. Praise from Matthew was rare but always genuine and nothing pleased her more than pleasing him.

"Ready to try again Jill?" he asked as she began to relax.

"Yes Matthew," Jill responded as she psyched herself up for what was to come.

He nodded and asked, "Ok, now what is it that you need to do to win this weekend Jill?"

"Stay focused, concentrate . . . think about the shot I want to make before I make it . . . prepare for what's coming next, take one shot at a time," she said.

"Right, exactly. Now let's try again and this time I really want you to focus," Matthew said.

"Swoosh . . . whack!"

After each stroke Jill took a deep breath, then prepared herself for the next stroke.

Finally Matthew said, "Good, good . . . much better." Jill relaxed slightly; thinking her lesson was over. "Not so fast. I think we need six more to finish things off Kiddo, then we'll be done out here for the day. I really want you to visualize now and tell me what's going to happen step by step."

"Ready position . . . decide where I want my shot to go," Jill said, gaining confidence as she saw Matthew nod his head."

"Where's that?" Matthew asked.

"Down the line to finish off the point," she responded.

"Atta girl . . . a little bit of aggressiveness is just what's needed. Now don't forget, in order to go down the line you'll need a firm, well-hit shot. There's no halfway. If you don't go for a winner, you'll get the pants beat off you."

Jill blushed, then nodded as she looked at the line. "Prepare, turn my shoulders, smooth swing and step into the shot just before I make contact . . ."

"Swoosh . . . SPLATTTTTTT!"

Jill groaned as the heavy wooden practice paddle shaped like a tennis racquet made contact with Matthew's bare bottom.

"And?" he prompted her through gritted teeth.

"And finish up the stroke with good follow-through," she quickly added as she watched him twist and turn his body against the sting of the swat.

"Auuuughhhh, good girl . . . *much* better. Just five more now."

"Swoosh . . . SPPPPLAAAAAAATTT!"

"Swoosh . . . SPLAAATTTTTT!"

"Swoosh . . . SPPPPLLAAAAATTTT!"

"Swoosh . . . SPPPPPLLLLLAAAAAAATTTT!"

Jill squared her shoulders for her final shot, took the paddle-shaped racquet back smoothly, then as she turned her shoulders she said, 'crosscourt with topspin' and let the racquet fly, catching Matthew firmly across his bottom, starting low and finishing high as the paddle moved up both cheeks. She followed through and listened with satisfaction as Matthew yelped with surprise.

Matthew quickly pulled up his shorts then turned around and looked at Jill appraisingly. She gave him a big smile and said, "And I should make sure my game never gets too predictable or my opponent will wipe the court with me."

Matthew gave his star pupil a smile as he rubbed his bottom with one hand. "Game, set and match," he said as he put his other arm around Jill's shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "Good lesson today Kiddo. You remember to follow through during your match on Saturday like you did on those last few shots and you'll blow your opponent right off the court."

They began to walk toward Matthew's office in the clubhouse. "Do you think you can squeeze me in for another lesson on Thursday?" Jill asked. "I want to work on my backhand a little. It's been giving me fits recently."

He nodded, "I think that can be arranged, but we can talk about that later. Right now we're going to do a little work on your backside, not your backhand." Matthew moved his hand to Jill's bottom and gave it a swift swat under her short tennis skirt. "Do a 30-minute cool-down on the StairMaster, shower and change. Then I want to see you in my office . . ."

Jill blushed, nodded and quickly headed toward the gym. Matthew watched Jill as she departed. He hoped her ponytail would bounce that brattily when she was over his knee. In about an hour he'd find out . . .

If you'd like to email Mary Catherine about Game, Set, Match, write: marycatherine@saintfrancis-sfg.net