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Part One
It was a hot day and the sun was just reaching its height above the tennis court, when the girls dumped their bags at the green wire side. Playing on grass hadn’t been Buffy’s first choice, but the offer of a secluded court from a friend of Giles’ had been difficult to turn down. Besides, she told herself, it was a matter of honour, playing the pants off of Faith. For so long, she’d had to listen to Faith go on and on about what a great tennis player she was; how she’d aced her serves on the prison team; how there wasn’t a single woman in the ‘big house’ who could beat her. Well, Buffy thought to herself as she pulled down her sweatpants, Faith was going to learn the meaning of ‘loser’ today.
Willow and Tara fooled around, tickling each other as they removed their outer clothing. They hadn’t exactly been prepared for a tennis match, not having what Buffy called ‘appropriate clothing’. So a trip to their local sports clothing store had been necessary, culminating in brand new whites for the both of them. Willow had been complimentary about Tara’s legs, especially in the changing room, where much fun had ensued as the girls tried on several striped tops, testing them for mobility, comfort and, of course, what Willow termed ‘clingability’.
Faith had opted for black. She justified her choice as more aerodynamic, although, Buffy noted, that just gave Faith the opportunity to show off her newly toned muscles. Obviously, working out in the prison gym hadn’t done her any harm. The blonde Slayer couldn’t help letting her eyes rove hungrily over Faith’s body, clad as it was in Lycra running shorts and a skin-tight sleeveless t-shirt. Damn her, Buffy thought furiously, wrenching the zipper on her racquet cover, she looks so great. Prison was supposed to be a punishment; for Faith it had provided extra workout time. And the dark Slayer looked amazing for it.
“Come on!” Faith’s voice came impatiently from the far end of the court, as she tapped her racquet against the sole of her black Nikes.
Willow gave Tara a quick kiss on the cheek and jogged down the court to join her. Faith gave her a cursory glance as she approached. “How come I get so lucky?” she asked sardonically as the redhead took up her position.
“Oh get over it Faith,” Willow said, her lip curling slightly as she bent her knees, bouncing her body weight up and down. “It was a fair draw. You think I wanna play with you?”
Faith swung her racquet in the air, feeling the energy run through her shoulder. She hardly registered Willow’s comment, instead looking across to where Buffy and Tara stood, exchanging match play techniques, both of them dressed in white skirts. It was good that the sun was out, she thought, good that everyone was dressed appropriately. Her eyes lingered over Buffy’s form, the delicate features of the blonde masking the muscular body that Faith knew was there. Maybe I should look harder, she thought; try to spot the fighter inside the woman. She remembered almost immediately with some distaste the attempts at femininity from the other inmates. Now that had been quite a challenge in itself…
“Huh?” she turned back to Willow, a confused look on her face. She stuck her racquet between her legs and pulled at her raven hair, scraped back into a ponytail.
“You think it was my choice to play with you?” Willow repeated, her face crinkling into a frown. Her gaze wandered across the court to where Tara was preparing herself for the game, swinging her racquet in a circle. The gaze of the witch softened slightly, appreciating the luxuriousness of her girlfriend’s body, recalling the snuggles they had shared only this morning.
“You wish,” Faith snorted, returning to her former stance. “Bet your girlfriend’s wishing she could play with me.”
Willow advanced on Faith, her eyes burning bright green, her racquet held like a weapon above her head. Faith laughed, completely unmoved by the witch’s anger, “Alright Red! That’s the fighting spirit! Keep thinkin’ like that and we got the game sewn up.”
“Hey!” Buffy’s voice reached them from the far end of the court, where she was holding a ball in her hand. Willow and Faith gave one another a final glare and returned to their places.
Glancing across at Tara, Buffy shook her head. “You sure about this? I’m not much of a tennis player.”
Tara swallowed hard, wishing that she could remember the tennis lessons her parents had forced upon her as a child. Unfortunately, all that came into her head were the lessons in sports clothing that Willow had forced upon her in the changing room. “Uh…me either, let’s just…let’s just see what happens, okay?”
“Does that mean we’re going to lose?” Buffy frowned, looking hard at the blonde girl, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot in the clothing that showed off way more flesh than she’d be willing to bet Tara liked.
“Not necessarily,” Tara grinned, “There’s always magick.”
“Oh well that’s not playing fair. No way.” Buffy threw the ball up high in the air, squinted at it through the sun that blasted down onto her face, then whapped at it with her racquet, sending it swishing across the net. Faith let it bounce once, then gave a hard forehand that rocketed the ball back towards Buffy. The blonde Slayer gave a yelp as the ball closed on her, dancing out of the way as it bounced almost gracefully, just inside the perimeter line.
“Love fifteen!” Faith shouted gleefully. Even Willow looked impressed.
“So,” Buffy turned back towards Tara, “About that magick then.”
“No problem.” Tara’s full lips curved into a smile before she began muttering under her breath.
Buffy raised the ball and served again. This time, the ball travelled over towards Willow who faced it with grim determination on her face. Just as she raised her racquet to intercept it, the ball seemed to stop in its path and jump over her head, falling behind her to bounce softly, twice, on the court. Willow spun around, her racquet flailing, her face a picture of confusion and despair.
“Fifteen all!” Buffy called across, an innocent smile on her face. But Faith noticed the wink she passed to the other girl beside her, and she turned on Willow, her eyes flaming. “Jeez Red! What the fuck are you playing at? That wasn’t exactly a difficult shot!” She stomped over to where the redhead stood, bewilderment painted across her pale face.
“Wha..? The ball just stopped!” Willow said.
“Yeah, when you came over all girlie and useless.” Faith muttered.
“Well I’m so sorry Martina,” Willow snarled, “I suppose I just need to take butch lessons from you when it comes to competitive sports.”
Faith’s face curled into an expression of contempt. “And here’s me thinkin’ lesbo’s had the upper hand in the playing tennis thing. Guess I’m wrong.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Willow shot back.
“Uh, you two going to argue all day or are we going to play tennis?” Buffy’s voice floated over.
Both girls looked over to the blonde Slayer, practically dancing around with a huge smile plastered across her face. Tara joined her, one hand tapping the racquet nervously against her legs, the other shading her eyes from the sun. She watched Willow’s stance; her girlfriend had already expressed her fears at playing on the same team as Faith. And, although she didn’t want to play devil’s advocate, Tara couldn’t help agreeing. There was something about the dark Slayer that really got to her…even scared her a little. Yeah, sure, she looked really hot in her black outfit, but looking hot wasn’t a reason to like someone. Tara looked again at Willow, desolate but very cute in her tennis whites. Then she changed her mind.
“Just talkin’ over team tactics.” Faith shouted back.
Buffy’s grin widened. “Team playing? You?” she called, watching in glee as Faith’s shoulders hunched in annoyance, “Thought you were a solo gig, Faith.”
“Aww girlfriend,” Faith returned, her gaze burning the blonde Slayer like ice, even from a distance, “How’s about you an’ me find out what team playing’s all about then?” Even with the sun obscuring her vision, Faith could tell that Buffy was blushing. Now that made her smile. Turning, she walked back to her position, leaning into a stance that invited a return to the game.
Buffy reached for another ball, throwing it up easily into the air and slamming it with her racquet, forcing it over the net. Faith leaned into the return, sending it shooting back towards Buffy, who intercepted, running forwards to the net. She and Faith engaged one another in a furious rally, ending only when Buffy tripped, falling onto the sun-heated grass as the ball bumped over the net, rolling to a stop near her legs.
Tara looked across the court to see Willow smiling and wiping her hand down her short tennis skirt. A glower flickered in the blonde’s eyes for a second, as she listened to Buffy curse under her breath.
“Fifteen thirty.” Willow pronounced, twirling coquettishly and swinging her racquet down by the side of her legs.
“I’m not sure that was exactly by the rules, sweetie,” Tara called over, sensing that the ball had had some help in defeating Buffy.
Getting to her feet, Buffy frowned. “What do you mean?”
Tara pointed downwards, “Your laces.”
Buffy followed the other girl’s gaze. The knotted laces of her tennis shoes had become undone. More than that, they had become twisted with one another, practically tying her feet together. Fumbling with them, Buffy shot a glare across to Willow. “Nice work Will. If you can’t win, cheat?”
“Hey! It’s not like I enchanted the ball or anything.” Willow’s words weren’t lost on Tara, who blushed and picked at an invisible thread on her skirt.
“You used magick?” Faith was incredulous, “You worked some mojo on the ball?”
“Uh…not on the ball exactly.” Willow shook her head, “More on Buffy’s shoes.” She shrugged, “I want us to win.”
Faith grinned from ear to ear. “Wicked cool.” Flexing her muscles, she wiped a bead of sweat from her brow and looked genuinely happy for the first time during the match. “Fifteen thirty,” she confirmed, calling across to Buffy and Tara.
“Willow, you can’t really expect us to count that point,” Tara said, watching as her girlfriend pulled a face and stuck out her tongue playfully.
“Why not? You counted yours, and you’re not telling me you didn’t have anything to do with that whole ‘ball stopping in mid-air’ thingy,” she said, wanting to smile at the doleful look that crossed Tara’s face.
“We’re playing at a disadvantage,” Tara protested, “Buffy and I don’t want to kill the ball. Faith does.”
Faith moved forwards to the net, gripping her racquet like a weapon, joined by Willow and met by Buffy and Tara. The girls faced off with only the flimsy netting between them, the dark Slayer’s jaw jutting out firmly as she met the eyes of her counterpart dead on.
“I just wanna play tennis. Ain’t my fault if you two can’t bear losing to me,” she said in a growl.
“Losing to you? Don’t make me laugh!” Buffy said dismissively.
“How about I make you scream?” Faith said.
“Uh…guys…” Willow tried to dampen the hormones that were sparking the air between them.
“Sure, right after I break your playing arm.” Buffy countered.
“Um…tennis anyone?” Tara offered weakly. She and Willow shared a sympathetic glance, the redhead’s eyes then moving appreciatively up and down her body, clad as it was in clothes that barely covered her. She blushed.
“Maybe we’re just not playing B’s kinda game,” Faith said carelessly, folding her arms over her chest, noticing Buffy wince as she did so.
“I don’t play games. Unlike some people,” Buffy’s pointed comment was aimed directly at her. Now it was Faith’s turn to wince.
“M-maybe we should, you know, go back to love all?” Tara self-consciously pulled at the hem of her tennis skirt. Had it been this short when she’d tried it on? Thinking back, she remembered that the length of her skirt had hardly been the first thing on her mind in the whole changing room experience. She blushed again.
“Just what I was thinking,” Willow said decisively, the glint in her eyes obviously reminding her of the changing rooms also. She grinned wickedly across at Tara, “I’m game if you are, baby.”
“Love all? Are you kidding? We’re winning for chrissakes!” Faith’s eyes widened and she looked at Willow for backup. Realising that the witch’s mind wasn’t exactly on the game, she sighed. “Jeez, will you two stop it and play the game?” Flicking her gaze back towards Buffy, who was now wiping a sheen of sweat from her brow, she shrugged inwardly. On a day like this, maybe Red did have a point. Buffy sure was looking kinda…well, buff…
Willow shrugged, “I’m kind of bored of this. Playing tennis and being all sporty is just…you know…being all sporty. How about Tara and I go find some lemonade and let you two get on with it?”
Buffy shook her head. “We’re here for doubles and that’s how we’ll play.”
“Well, actually, I could go for some lemonade. I mean, it’s all hot and stuff, and Willow and I…we’re not really…you know, not exactly with the whole tennis thing anyway…” Tara knew her excuses had holes in them as big as the Grand Canyon, but judging from her girlfriend’s eager nodding, she knew it wouldn’t be long before the both of them saw the inside of a changing room again.
“If you must…” Buffy sighed, not quite understanding, but not quite letting herself, either.
“We must. Okay. Have fun. Bye!” Willow grabbed Tara’s hand and pulled her away to the edge of the court, watched by an incredulous Faith and Buffy.
“Are those two…?” Buffy began, realisation dawning on her slowly.
“Oh yeah. Definitely.” Faith chuckled to herself, before bringing her gaze back to the Slayer in front of her. “So, whaddya say girlfriend. Up for some one on one?” A crooked grin that bordered on wicked playfully tickled the corners of her mouth.
Buffy caught the sentiment and met Faith’s gaze firmly. A slow smile spread across her lips and she noticed, yet again, how taut Faith’s stomach was underneath her black, clinging top. She let her gaze wander over the other Slayer, roving over her hair, clinging to the nape of her neck, damp with sweat. “No tricks?” she asked, watching as Faith rose to the challenge.
“No tricks.” Faith nodded, “So reckon you can lick me good and proper?” The flirtation wasn’t lost on Buffy, whose eyes widened slightly before narrowing to a response that didn’t quite hide her feelings.
“Well…I can try,” she answered slowly.
“Okay then. Love all.”
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Part Two
“It’s too hot to play tennis anyway,” Willow commented, following Tara into the dark coolness of the changing room, which was in fact, a small pool house type building set up at the top of the hill overlooking the tennis court.
Tara sat down on the wooden bench that ran along three sides of the shed, stretching out her legs in front of her. She and Willow had insisted on getting changed from their daily clothes up here, in order, she remembered smiling, to rekindle their sudden liking for sports attire. Faith and Buffy had come dressed for the occasion, wearing sweatpants over their shorts and skirts. That was so like Faith, Willow had commented wryly, anything to flash her naked skin. Although, Tara thought to herself, not a little guiltily, she hadn’t objected to seeing Faith in her Lycra shorts and tight black top.
“It’s too hot to do anything,” Tara sighed, almost to herself. Luckily the changing room they were in was tiled inside, making the surface cool against her back. She reached up and pulled at her hair, loosing it from the ponytail that had held it off her face.
“Well,” Willow’s lips curved into a smile as she moved over to sit beside her girlfriend, “Not anything…” Her hand crept onto Tara’s bare skin, moving up the girl’s thigh to flutter against the hem of her tennis skirt.
Tara grinned foolishly, giggling lightly. “Willow…is there something you haven’t told me about your latent desires for women in tennis clothes?”
Leaning forward, Willow pressed her lips against Tara’s hair, breathing in the fresh clean scent, mixed with a musky overtone of sweat. “Mmm, nope. Just you. In any kind of clothing.” She sat back, watching as her lover’s eyes turned to meet her own, “But I like you best in nothing at all.”
A flush formed at the base of the blonde girl’s neck and she smiled, loving the way Willow’s eyes deepened in colour and tone when she was aroused. Feeling suddenly daring, Tara leant forward and trailed a fingertip down Willow’s neck, tracing a line of fire to the girl’s nipple. It was already hard, peeking through the redhead’s white shirt. As she touched it, Willow’s lips opened, letting out a gasp of desire. Her eyes flickered shut for a second.
“I wonder how the tennis match is going,” Tara wondered aloud, almost absent-mindedly. She bent her head and put her lips around the nipple, squeezing it gently with her teeth through the thin cotton top.
Willow put her hand on Tara’s head, feeling the damp hair close to the other girl’s scalp. She pushed her fingers deep into the luxurious blonde, pulling on it slightly. Tara’s teeth closed firmly on the nipple, pulling it slightly. Groaning aloud, Willow’s hand delved deeper on Tara’s lap, dipping into the cleft between her legs, fingers pushing their way underneath the skirt.
“Oh who cares about the…oh…the…oh don’t stop Tara, please!” she muttered.
But Tara did stop.
Sitting up, she removed Willow’s hand from between her legs and patted it gently, almost the way a mother does to a child. Disappointment and confusion painted its way across the redhead’s face.
“Hey, what did you do that for? It was just getting interesting,” she pouted.
Tara smiled, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before pushing her hair back from her face. She shrugged. “We’re both all sweaty and that doesn’t make for good sex.”
“Are you nuts? Getting sweaty is the best part of sex!” Willow couldn’t help laughing at Tara’s prim expression. She sidled further along the bench until her own leg was touching Tara’s and she rubbed it up and down, loving the feel of the other girl’s skin against her own. “Besides, the way Buffy and Faith were going at it, they won’t be looking for us anytime soon…” Her sentence went unfinished; the look in her eye blatantly clear as to what she was suggesting.
“What if someone else comes in?”
“No one will. Buffy’s friend said this place isn’t usually used on the weekends.” Willow moved Tara’s hair away from her neck and leaned in close, licking the beat of sweat that rolled invitingly down from just behind the blonde girl’s ear. “Please? Honey?” Her tongue flickered up towards Tara’s ear, resting briefly on the earlobe before teetering over the brink and darting inside.
“Oooh, oh that’s…oh Willow…I’m serious.” Tara pushed her girlfriend away firmly, although not unkindly, taking a deep breath to soothe her fluttering nerves. The way Willow made her feel with just one touch was enough to give her palpitations. “I just don’t feel comfortable making love in a place where anyone could come in. I mean,” her gaze moved to the doorway, “there’s no lock on the door or anything. What if – “
“I promise you, no one will come in. And I promise you, if they do, I’ll handle it.” Willow reassured, her hand again creeping up Tara’s thigh. She could feel her girlfriend weakening. Just being near each other like this was tantalising, she knew that. “And I’ll handle anything else you like too…” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, eliciting a light giggle from the other girl.
Standing up, Tara held out her hand. “I’m going to take a shower. You might want to do it wearing tennis clothes, but I don’t. Join me?”
Willow didn’t need asking twice.
The shower cubicle was at the back of the hut, a glass door the only way in or out. The other three walls were tiled with the tiny white squares that had adorned the main changing room. It was darker in here than in the other room, and as the girls stripped, they could feel the cool striking their hot bodies. Tara leaned into the cubicle and turned on the shower, letting a hiss send a spray of hot water invite steam into the room, casting it around the top of the cubicle in lacy tendrils. She stepped into the shower, feeling the water hit her skin and bounce off in a rain of tiny droplets. Turning her face upwards, she let her hair get wet until it hung against her back, plastered onto her head.
The clicking of the cubicle door assured her that she was not alone. A pair of hands smoothed down the length of her hair, fingers stroking shampoo into the furrows they left behind. These same fingers worked the shampoo into her head, pushing hard against her scalp, whilst a body Tara recognised and desired pushed up against her own. She could feel Willow’s pert breasts on her back, the nipples hard and pointed on her skin. A sigh escaped her lips.
“I love washing your hair,” Willow’s voice reached her as she closed her eyes, putting her hands palm up on the wall in front of her.
“I love it when you touch me.” Tara said, her voice low and thick.
“I’ll never stop.” The hands washed waves of water down the blonde hair, now darkened by the water to a cascade of brown. Willow made sure that all the shampoo was thoroughly rinsed out, and then took the soap into her hand. Rubbing it between her palms, she created a lather, which she then smoothed over Tara’s back, almost standing back to admire the statuesque and classic pose her girlfriend had unwittingly adopted. The redhead’s hands swooped in huge circles down over the other girl’s body, pausing briefly over her ass, then swirling round to cup the pendulous breasts in her own hands. She reached up with her thumbs and brushed them over the nipples, slick with soap.
Tara let out a sigh, shifting her position, her legs opening slightly. She had been wet since Willow had put her hand on her leg the first time. But, she had learned, it was always good to wait. And good to make Willow wait, too.
Willow flicked her thumbs over Tara’s breasts, feeling the water splash off her hands as she did so. The nipples hardened and rose to become red buds underneath her touch. A smile fleetingly crossed her lips as she bent her head forward and kissed a line from Tara’s ear down to her shoulder.
“Oh Willow,” Tara breathed, lost in the pattering of water droplets on her skin and the thrilling sensation of her lover’s touch. Her fingers arched on the tiled wall, as though she wanted to dig her nails into the surface. She pushed herself back into Willow’s body, feeling the patch of hair against her ass.
Willow pushed forwards, her hands trailing down Tara’s body, over the soft mound of stomach that Tara swore she hated. Willow loved it, the sensuous curves of her lover never failing to fill her with lust. Every time she looked at Tara, she felt the pang leap through her, wanting her as she did. She pushed a finger between Tara’s legs, reaching for her clit, beating a tiny rhythm of desire against it.
“I love you Tara,” she whispered against the other girl’s shoulder, “I want you all the time. Is that wrong?”
“Oh god…no…no, it’s so right…” Tara breathed, her eyes closed. One of her hands left the wall and snaked behind her, to work its way between their bodies, pushing between Willow’s pussy lips, feeling for the clit that she knew was already engorged and pulsing. The redhead moaned and pushed herself harder against Tara, loving the sensation that she was creating, moving against her girlfriend’s fingers.
Willow moved up and down, feeling Tara’s strong fingers working her clit, occasionally slipping inside of her. And for every time she was touched, she returned the caress, move for move. Soon the two of them were rocking back and forth, on each other’s fingers.
The redhead sucked at Tara’s shoulder, tasting the fresh skin of the other girl. “You taste like strawberries,” she murmured, “Just like fresh strawberries.”
Tara swivelled round in the shower, her free hand reaching for the back of Willow’s neck, pulling her towards her so that their mouths met in a fierce clash of a kiss, the water raining down on them, covering them, sating their desire. As she felt the other girl’s tongue in her mouth, Tara pushed her fingers up inside of Willow, steadying her lover with her own leg, pushing between the other girl’s thighs. Offering her more traction, Tara was able to thrust her fingers more forcefully inside of her lover, hearing the moans and gasps against her ear as Willow moved her head to one side, to whisper encouragement and declarations of love all at once.
Willow’s own fingers renewed their task with increased vigour, pushing inside the sweet warm wetness, slick with Tara’s love. She felt the blonde girl curl her arm around her back, pulling her in closer, so that she could push her fingers in deeper, harder. Their breasts were crushed up against the others, their bodies lathered with the soap that still lay on Tara’s skin.
The redhead put her hand on the wall that was now behind Tara’s head, her hips bucking against the blonde so that she was pushed up against the tile, cool and wet against her back. Pulling her head back, Willow found Tara’s eyes, the sudden contact of their gazes electric, filling her with desire all over again. She rubbed her pussy up and down Tara’s leg, the other girl having to do no more than keep her fingers firmly inside Willow. She began to fuck Tara more forcefully now, wanting to drive her on to an orgasm that she felt building inside of herself.
“Willow…” Tara’s voice reached her as if from a distance.
Hardly able to catch her breath, Willow felt her body trembling its way towards the brink of orgasm. “Tara…oh god Tara…don’t stop, please don’t stop…I need this…I want this…I want you…”
“I want you too…” Tara moaned, her eyes flickering shut as she leant her head back against the wall. As Willow’s thumb reached for her clit, she let out a gasp and grunted, pulling the other girl closer to her, forcing her fingers into Willow’s tight pussy that grabbed at her fingers. “Oh Willow…I’m going to…”
For a second, nothing existed, as both girls felt their legs begin to tremble. Willow called out Tara’s name loudly, just once, as she felt herself fall over the chasm into the drowning blackness below. Tara joined her, floating, falling, crashing into a world where nothing else remained except the two of them, bodies entwined, caught in a whirling spray of mist. Willow’s body fell against her, pressing her even harder onto the wall behind her. She leant down, panting, and pressed her lips against the other girl’s hair, feeling the wet strands caressing her mouth.
“Mmm,” she smiled, “You taste like strawberries too. Strawberries and cream.”
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