“May I help you with your shower this morning?” Wendy asked.“May we help you?” Bree repeated.How could I turn down that request?I think that day three of one of these big tournaments is the toughest day to get through. Allison played early and took her opponent in the quarter finals by four and seven. We were the only fans for her match, but her coach came over to talk to Lissa and me after the game and ask how we thought she was doing. I’d never met him before, though I’d seen him last year. It was funny how he just assumed we were taking over her coaching after the college season and would be the ones coaching her at National Singles. He was really cool about it and said that she’d progressed remarkably this season and credited our training before Nationals last spring and Opens last fall. Neither of those is a college competition, so he was fine with her working with us and hoped that we’d keep her going after she graduated.I was in quarter finals, too. Eight of us sized each other. Her mind was definitely elsewhere.To be on the safer side I pulled up a linen sheet over us. Now I was all set to work her up. My dick was oozing with pre-cum. The prospect of copulating with her when mum was lying just a few inches away from us was incredible! The temperature inside the sheets was rising. I licked my fingers and dug in again. I asked her slowly in a whisper, between her inconsistent and incoherent jabbering, “Can you apply a dollop of spit onto your cunny.” Without questions she spat into her palm and reached into her floral printed bloomers. She loved those, little did she know how stained they were going to be by the end of this carnival of lust. I was creaming her pussy in nice, soft circular motion. Her tartan skirt was bunched up at her tummy under the sheets. She kept parting her little legs each time I stroked her clitty as if it was a reflex. Soon she just went silent. I didn’t question it or issue any new pretexts. I just kept pacing my fingers working on.
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