"Hey!" said a female voice.

I was late getting to lunch today so there were few people in the school walkways. Was a girl talking to me? Anything can happen. I turned toward the sound.

"Hi!" a blonde girl said. She had the most dazzling smile.

I froze. This girl was talking to me. I felt my armpits instantly sweat.

She was gorgeous. Beautiful straight long blonde hair over her shoulder and down her back. Deep blue eyes. That smile. The soft curves of breasts. A thin body. She was so beautiful yet for some unknown reason she spoke to me.

Obviously the girl was deranged. She looked like a fantasy girl but I personally had a thing against deranged girls. Maybe it's just me, but I think it's a reasonable policy. Derangement was the only sensible explanation why this gorgeous creation was talking to me. Some of my friends were pretty girls but not one of them looked anything like this babe.

"Are you okay?" she asked. A logical question since I was stuck in neutral.

Her voice? I knew that voice. I think.

"Yeah," I said.

"You sure?" she asked. "Your face looks pale."

Did it? I looked deeper into her face. I knew her.

"Emily?" I ventured.

"You didn't recognize me?" I heard the surprise in her tone.

I'd known Emily since elementary school. I was in the same grade as Emily. We were both 15-year old freshmen new to high school now. Emily and I were friends growing up. As we grew older, we developed different interests and different friends to hang out with, but we always remained friends. When I ran across her I'd always say, "How's my Emily-entary friend?" This phrase bugged her but that's what good friends do. They know how to get on each other's nerves and they enjoy doing it.

Emily and my friendship started because our moms were long time friends back from their college days at State. When we were young kids, I was often over at Emily's house or she was at mine. We lived a couple blocks apart so easy walking distance. Tragically for Emily when she was only ten, her Dad turned into a moron and ran off with his secretary. After the divorce, we didn't hang out together as often. She was at the same school as me but our friendship waned.

This was Emily? Wow! This was Emily!

"How's my Emily-entary friend?" I asked.

She smiled. I had a memory recall of what she gave me the last time I said that to her. It was a hard punch into my shoulder. I remembered it because I was surprised how strong her hit was. I held back my pain. I was a guy after all. I didn't want to react, but after she left and I was alone I rubbed my shoulder and expressed my physical reaction. Emily's beautiful smile today was much better than her fist any day.

"I made the tennis team," she said.

There was a tennis team? Here at school?

"Congratulations," I replied. I could look in Emily's face all day. I noticed I subconsciously licked my lips. Did I just lick drool away?

"Thanks! Why don't you come see me play?"

What? Not only was there such a thing as a high school tennis team, but you could go watch it? I had no idea.

"Um..." I said. Watching tennis = bad. Watching Emily = good.

"Please," she said. "It's my first match. Come support me."

"Won't your mom be there?"

She frowned then said, "If you don't want to go just say so."

I looked at this beautiful freshman girl. If she couldn't read my mind with all the thoughts I had about her right now and if she wouldn't be able to read all the additional thoughts I would have about her as I watched her play tennis, it would be great time. I took the chance that she couldn't read my mind.

"When do you play?" I asked.

Emily lost her first match 6 to 4. Emily was definitely the prettier girl on the court.

"I'm not very good," she told me later.

"You did great."

"I didn't win."

"Next time."

"Thanks for coming out."

"It was fun. When's your next match?" I asked.

"Thursday afternoon at Hardwick High."

A different location would be hard to get to. I had no transportation.

I watched Emily leave with her mom. Emily was so cute in her white tennis skirt and what magnificent legs she had.

My mom asked me why I was home from school later. I told her about meeting Emily in the walkway the other day and about going to the tennis match. I told her also about seeing Emily's mom.

Mom called Emily's mom and they spent the next two hours on the phone catching up with each other.

"Do you know where Hardwick High is?" Mom asked me afterward.

"I can find out on the internet," I said. Mom relied on me to find out all types of information by way of the internet.

"Emily's mom can't go next week because of work. I thought we'd go so that we can take Emily straight home instead of her being dropped off at school and having to walk home."

Cool!

Emily was thrilled to have both me and my mom watch her play. She lost 6-5 but her spirits were pretty high because we attended her game.

We dropped her off at her house. I walked her to the door.

"Thanks for everything," she said.

"So do you want to hang out somewhere this weekend?" I blurted out. Did I just say that? Did I in essentially ask a completely beautiful girl to spend time with me?

"I practice at Parson Park Saturday mornings," Emily said. "You can come if you want."

"Sure," I said excitedly. "When?"

"8 o'clock."

I gulped. Eight! Early!

"I'll be there. Is it okay if I bring my racquet?"

"Sure!" she said happily.

I had to find my racquet.

Mom said on the way home, "I'm glad you two are friends again."

I was too. I was too.

The next several weeks I met her at Parson Park. I wasn't much help with her practice but I was there for support. I would serve the ball and she'd hit it back. I certainly couldn't serve as good as the players she faced. She next practiced serving the ball. Sometimes, I tried to return her serves. Other times I just sat down and watched.

Emily won her first match 6-2 but she lost her next two 6-4 and 6-1. The last loss was against a particularly tough player.

This Saturday, I walked Emily back to her house.

"You thirsty?" she asked. We already drained the water bottles we brought with us.

"Yeah," I said.

I followed her into her house. We sat at the kitchen table with our drinks.

"Where's your mom?" I asked.

"She started working Saturdays today," Emily answered.

We talked for an hour and then I said, "I need to get back before my parents worry."

"You can just call and let them know you're here."

"Okay. If it's alright."

"Why not?" she said.

We had lunch and then went into the living room to talk more. We faced each other on the sofa. I loved my time with her and knew I was falling for her but tried to deny it. She was so beautiful. I was so not. What would she see in me?

She kissed me very quickly on the lips. My heart flew. She did see something in me! I wasn't about to let this moment come and then pass. I followed her retreating lips and I kissed her back.

And then we kissed!

We spent the next month of Saturday mornings exploring each other's lips. We wanted more and more so we started to go to the tennis courts on Friday nights also. When the automatic lights went out at 9 PM, we stood in the darkness and kissed for the next ten minutes.

Tragedy struck. Sort of. It was a tennis ball.

Emily was practicing serves. I was on the court trying to get to the ball and hit it back. Emily's tennis had improved much these past two months. Me? Hardly at all. Her serve would come in and on those few balls I could get my racquet on, I would just get a weak piece of it or the ball would deflect loudly into the chain link fence that surrounded the court. Emily generated a lot of force so her serve was strong. It helped her win more matches even if her return and volley part of her game still needed much improvement. Those times I managed to hit the ball back were just bonus play for us.

This Saturday morning, Emily served. The tennis ball headed straight at me. I wasn't sure how to handle the return so for some reason I froze. The tennis ball smacked me in my balls. I went down immediately. It wasn't that my nuts hurt. It was more the shock of it. I guess I expected it to hurt and cause me to writhe in agony so I instinctively fell to the ground thinking I would be great pain.

"Are you okay?" asked Emily.

How did she get to me so fast? She crouched down staring at me with a horrified face.

"I'm okay," I said to assure her.

"Are you sure?" she asked. She dropped down to her knees.

I knew I was okay. I knew what writhing in agony was after a foolish bicycle jump several years ago.

"Yeah."

I watched her hand gravitate toward my, well my "injured" area, but then she stopped. For a moment I thought she was going to touch me. She decided to rub my shoulder instead.

I stood. Truly the only injury was my pride. I was very embarrassed to let the ball hit me in the nuts.

"Let's go back," she said. "You should rest."

It was early for us to return but if it meant an early start on kissing Emily's sweet lips then I was ready to go back.

"Okay." I felt a little guilty after I replied so I revised my answer "I can just sit and watch."

"You're hurt," she insisted.

Apparently she knew better than I did. Her concern for me wouldn't let her see otherwise.

At Emily's home, she had me slowly sit on the couch. She took my shoes off and had me lay on my back along the length of the couch. I imagined Emily on top of me while kissing her sugar lips.

"Take your pants off and I'll get the ice," Emily said and headed to the kitchen.

I didn't have a chance to respond before she left. Take my pants off? What did she just say? I tried to think what to my ears sounded like "take your pants off".

She returned with a big ice pack. "Why are your pants still on?"

I shook my head just to clear my mind. Emily did tell me to take my pants off.

"What for?"

"Your injury. I learned about sport medicine from Coach Rogers" I knew he was the tennis coach and also the baseball coach. "Ice should reduce the swelling."

There was no reasonable chance of reducing what was suddenly swelling in my "injured" area. The very thought of taking my pants off in Emily's presence eliminated any "reduced swelling". More practically, there was no chance at all that I was going to allow that cold pack anywhere near my cock.

"I don't want that," I said emphatically.

"Are you too sensitive ... um ... there?"

"Yeah."

"Ice will numb it."

"Ice won't help. I know a guy's body. I am one, you know?"

She laughed then said, "I just want to help."

There was a pain in that area now. My erection was constricted in my pants and couldn't move in the direction it wanted.

"I guess I could take my pants off just so I stay loose and not stiffen up." I did a mental head slap. Bad choice of words!

I unbuttoned and unzipped. Emily did the rest. She was just glad to help. I knew I needed to say something.

"It's not your fault. It was an accident. It just happened."

"Yeah, I know."

"Emily," I waited for her to look at me. "I forgive you."

She smiled. I guess she needed to hear that because nothing I said before would convince her she wasn't to blame.

I lay now in my briefs. The outline of my cock was large and obvious.

"I'll get a towel," she said without taking her eyes off my area. "To cover you so you can take your undershorts off and allow the area to breathe. You look all cramped up."

When she said that, I think I stopped breathing. Conveniently, my mind still worked and I came up with another suggestion. "Just get a towel to put under me so I don't sit naked on the couch. It doesn't matter if you see it, does it?"