Triptych
Chapter 45

Copyright© 2012 to Elder Road Books

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 45 - The continuing adventures of Tony, Melody, and Lissa. You should read “Model Student” to understand this. Now sophomore art students and trying to understand and manage their new life, Tony, Melody, Lissa and their friends attempt to come to grips with the larger reality of life outside of college as well as in. Some sex in most chapters, much sex in some. The trio finally discovers it is in love—with each other and someone else! This story includes an abused submissive woman.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Polygamy/Polyamory   Slow  

ALLIE DIDN’T BOTHER TO SHOWER after her match, but went directly with us to the finals of the mixed doubles. We had to change venues because finals of the Open division and Pro division matches were all held in the big glass box in the center of the arena. Being the smallest of the Open and Pro brackets, ours was the first to play finals. Women’s Open Doubles and Pro Doubles would play their final round later in the afternoon. Tomorrow, most of the matches that anyone was interested in would be played in the glass box.

“Remember the secret,” Allison said as she held my face between her hands and looked at me with a sharpness she didn’t have just two hours earlier. “You have to really not see the walls. Be your partner and go where the ball will be.”

She turned to Lissa.

“You’ve been here before, Ice Queen. But you’re not alone this time. Cue him. Drag him with you. And when this is all over, remember, I’m the one who’s going to thaw the Ice Queen’s pussy with my tongue.”

I saw Lissa shudder. She looked at me and we entered the glass box.

Our competition in the finals was Jorge and Jessica Rodriguez from Argentina. They were trying to throw our game off before we ever got on the court. Jorge was dressed all in black Ektelon court clothes just like me. Jessica was wearing one of our outfits. Lissa was in blue and the Argentinian was in green, but she must have just bought it off our rack in the lobby. I could see Lissa was thrown by it, too. They were mimicking us—or mocking us. Which was it?

Lissa was shaking her head. I got in front of her and looked her straight in the eye.

“You have to really not see the clothes,” I said. “Just go where the ball will be.”

She giggled and nodded.

Jorge served first, a soft lob that would drop a foot in front of the back wall near Lissa’s backhand. I saw it play out before the ball came off the front wall. Lissa’s return would put it right into the Jessica’s forehand. I charged forward as Lissa swung. The ball traveled thirty-six feet at seventy miles an hour. The Argentinian took it at the short line and sent it toward the wall. I didn’t let it bounce, but slammed it straight back at her from six feet off the wall. She didn’t have her racquet back in place from her previous swing and the purple ProPenn ball hit her in the shoulder and dribbled to the ground. The game was on.

These two were no newcomers. I’d looked them up online and knew they’d been beaten in this match twice before. This was their third trip to the finals in Open Mixed Doubles. They had a few tricks of their own and Lissa and I were sweating by the time we’d taken them down in the first game by two points. In the second game it was like facing all new opponents. They’d changed their strategy and were playing the short game that Lissa and I excelled at. They were holding us away from the front wall and dominated the returns. We lost by two. Lissa and I gulped down water during our five-minute break. Suddenly Melody was in front of us.

“Listen here, you two. If you think it was hard to sleep last night, tonight Allie and I are going to be louder, longer, and livelier than last night, and you still can’t come. You don’t get to come until after Women’s Open Finals tomorrow afternoon. All you can do is dance with each other on the court. If you come during a rally, it doesn’t count. Go for it.”

She kissed us each and swatted us on the butt for good measure. Man, what a tough coach!

“Dance with each other,” she’d said. That called for music and I knew just what was needed. I’m a lousy singer, but as we walked onto the court, I sang to Lissa, “Besame. Besame mucho.” It wasn’t much, but she picked up the rhythm and swung her hips toward me. Our Argentine opponents picked up the words right away, of course, and looked at each other oddly. Then he sang “Como si fuera esta la noche La ultima vez,” and Jessica grinned.

It might have been the sexiest game in the competition.

I’d inadvertently put the same rhythms into their heads. Salsa is a great way to play racquetball. Lissa and I put our moves together and it was like the Argentines were dancing a counterpoint. In thirty minutes, we were tied at fourteen. We’d played match point four times. And wouldn’t you know; it was an accident that decided the game. I dove to make a return, sliding halfway across the court before I could regain my feet. Jorge came right behind me to take the ball and hit the wet patch on floor left by my sweaty body. His foot flew forward and his racquet twisted just enough that the ball didn’t make the front wall before it hit the floor. We’d won the Mixed Doubles Open Championship.

I was on my feet and jumping up and down with Lissa. We kissed right there in the middle of the court. Then we turned to our opponents. A new pair of lips clamped down on mine and Lissa was swept up by Jorge. Jessica was reaming my mouth with her tongue.

“Besame. Besame mucho,” she purred at me. “Gracias. We danced together. Gracias. Gracias.

“You’re great competitors,” I said. “It was a pleasure to dance. Gracias.

Jorge turned to shake my hand and Jessica kissed Lissa. It was gentle and not as passionate as the kiss she gave me, but it was right on the lips and delivered with intent.

As we walked off the court, it looked like we were two sets of partners on the same team—Jorge and I in black and the two ladies in our sportswear. Cameras were going off as we all hugged once again. There were microphones pushed at us for comments. Video cameras were live. Two more hot girls in our sportswear clamored for Lissa’s and my attention and we swept up both Melody and Allison in our arms. They’d decided to close the booth in the lobby to watch the match.

“I didn’t know you were the competitors today when you bought your outfit yesterday,” Melody said to Jessica. “It looks great on you. It was hard to tell which of you was which at times.”

“Except I am small and dark and she is tall and... bella,” laughed Jessica. “I will always wear Ice Queen Sportswear.”

Wow! I think we just got our first endorsement as the cameras were still rolling.


We had four hours before Lissa’s semi-final match this evening. The Men’s and Women’s Open and Pro Division semis were back-to-back in prime time. Melody headed back to the lobby as the rest of us hit the showers. I encouraged Allison and Lissa to take extra time in the showers and get a good rub-down before joining us. Lissa would have no booth duty today, but I felt that I needed to go up and give Melody some support. For me, the competition was over.

And now that I thought about it, I was getting damned horny.

I needn’t have worried. Melody had backup in the form of her father who was happily wrapping up outfits and running credit cards as quickly as Melody was. He was really thin and completely bald now. He’d been through radiation, surgery and chemo, and still the cancer was eating away at him. But I think it was the first time I’d seen him when he looked happy. There was no other word to describe it. Yes. And proud. Every few minutes he would glance over at his daughter and I could see him swell with pride. He regaled customers with tales of how his daughter had invented the process for dye extraction that we used on our sportswear and that we would be the only ones with this type of sportswear on the market for at least the next twelve months.

I slipped into the booth beside them and was immediately put to work. We were attracting quite a crowd.

“And this is my son-in-law,” Harold said to a customer, “who just won the Mixed Doubles competition. He’s an artist, too.”

I was pulled aside by every other customer to get a picture and an autograph. We were going to run out of stock soon.


An hour before Lissa’s match, we closed the booth and all headed for the arena. I went to the player ready-room and found Lissa asleep cradled on Allison’s ample bosom. They looked sweet. Allison was just holding Lissa there, looking at her. I came up quietly and knelt beside them. I glanced up at Allison’s smiling face and then bent to kiss my lover’s lips. Lissa opened her eyes then responded happily to the kiss.

 
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