My pleated tennis skirt was on the floor next to my boring white panties. My white cotton tank top was tossed over the arm of the couch. My sports bra was pulled up. My tits ached from the rough way he'd grabbed them.
He was still fully dressed and trying to catch his breath. He'd only opened his shorts enough to get his dick out in a hurry. It was raining outside. I was still in high school. A few weeks before that day I'd still been a virgin. I remember every detail. It's a movie that plays over and over in my mind. And it always leaves me wet and in need.
It's not the only time Mark fucked me. But it was the first time. I was eighteen. He was my 30 year old tennis instructor. I didn't tell a soul at the time. I didn't have many friends. I definitely couldn't tell my family. After that first time I just kept going to my lessons. He'd spend half the time instructing me, get anxious, and then take me in his office and fuck me. After he'd talk about how it was our secret and I couldn't tell anyone and it felt wrong. But he never passed up the opportunity to have his way with me. Or to cash the checks my parents sent him each month to fuck their teenage daughter.
I can't say I didn't invite the attention. I was a pretty awkward kid. My parents were stereotypical wealthy Asian immigrants. They bordered on abusive and demanded success. I was expected to be well-rounded, talented, social, pretty, and the best student in my class.
Unfortunately, I was a pudgy introvert with glasses. A lot of kids in my position find some way to rebel. I was definitely angry. I wanted a normal life that didn't involve spending every waking moment on school and mandatory extracurriculars. I resented my very conservative parents at times. Even though I knew they just wanted me to be successful and find a nice husband.
Tennis was the one thing I got to choose. I didn't like dance and my parents wouldn't approve of cheer (that's for sluts!) or team sports (for dykes!), so tennis was a compromise.
I wasn't going to get a scholarship as a pudgy, short Asian girl, but I was good enough to make my high school team and the activity actually gave me a lot of self-confidence and a place to get away from the stress of school and my parents. When I asked for private lessons my parents were supportive. It was exactly the kind of thing they liked spending their money on.
Mark was a pretty typical country club pro. White. Fit. Handsome. A former collegiate athlete who wasn't good enough to play on any tour but was happy to spend his days working with rich kids and flirting with bored trophy wives.
Even in high school I was perceptive enough to realize he was fucking around with the older women at the club. Some were rich single moms, but most were married and ten to twenty years older than him. He was almost always the one to initiate it. He flirted and ogled them constantly. I'm sure it's attention most didn't get at home. I thought of him as a creepy perv, but he was a good coach.
I don't know how I old I was when he started ogling me. I played a lot of tennis in high school and also got into weight training. By my senior year my body had transformed. I wasn't thin, but I was very fit with thick thighs and big tits, at least for a petite Asian woman. But I was still awkward and nerdy and focused on good grades, so I wasn't getting any attention at school.
And my hormones were out of control. I basically threw myself at a friend of a friend at a Chinese party. He was a year older than me and all too happy to fuck, but he didn't want anyone to know about it and definitely didn't want to date me. So I was flattered when I noticed Mark's attention. He was hot. He had his pick of "cougar" types at the country club. But he was still checking me out. It was an ego boost.
So maybe I was asking for it. I defintely leaned into it in a sassy teenage way. I wore more tank tops to show off my ample tits. I bent over a lot. I started flirting and filling our conversations with innuendos that I considered clever, though looking back they were definitely juvenile. Mostly things I heard bolder girls use at school to throw male teachers off balance.
But Mark wasn't thrown off balance. He engaged in the banter. He'd wink a lot. He leered at my body. He never called me sexy or beautiful, but made a lot of comments about how I looked so much fitter and how my body had really blossomed over the years.
The day it happened was in the spring of my senior year. I'd gone for a lesson after school. It was overcast and started to rain. I had on a white tank top and white pleated skirt. Everything clung to my body. We went to his office. That part wasn't unusual. It had rained during a session before. We'd watch videos of my matches and he'd give feedback.
His off was in the basement of the clubhouse. There were a few other offices down there, but never many people around. He had a desk, some chairs, a big couch, a television, some shelves. A typical office.
He couldn't take his eyes off me in my wet top. I had a duffle with a change of clothes. I made a show of bending over to pick it up off the floor. I scratched my thigh and pushed my skirt up a bit. His eyes were glued to me. I felt his hand on the small of my back. And I pushed my ass back into his crotch.
He audibly groaned. I initiated the kiss. I had to stand on my tip toes to do it. But he didn't stop me. A grown man employed by my parents groping an eighteen year old high school girl.
I wasn't thinking about sex at that moment. That's not how a young woman's mind works. I don't know what I imagined. Making out? Him confessing feelings for me? A secret love affair? Romance? Those are all fantasies that I'd thought of before that day. But at that moment I probably wasn't thinking at all. I was just acting impulsively. I defintely wasn't thinking I'd get my face planted on his sofa while he fucked me like a dog.
But that's exactly what happened. One minute we were kissing. Closed mouth. Innocent, but forbidden. And minute later he was fumbling with the zipper at the side of my skirt. It was frantic.
I was excited and nervous and not at all in control. I didn't have time to think. He didn't ask what I wanted and I didn't say a thing. He pulled my shirt over my head and lifted my sports bra. He told me my tits were even better than he'd imagined. Then fondled them roughly. Then spun me around and bent me over the arm of the couch. He pulled my panties off quickly. My pussy was soaking wet and he was in it as fast as he could get his cock out.
I couldn't even look back at what was happening. When I started to cry out he pushed down on my back to my face was in the cushions. He told me to be quiet so nobody would hear us. He tried to go slow at first. He told me he'd been dreaming about my tight Asian pussy for a long time. He asked me if I liked his big dick inside me. He called me a whore and a cock tease and told me it was obvious I needed a man to teach me a lesson.
He felt SO big inside me. He fucked harder and faster. It was nothing like my one previous experience. That boy had been tentative and awkward and moved like he was afraid to cum too quick. Mark fucked with confidence and seemed eager to get it over with it. I just whimpered and moaned and took his cock. And then he came inside me. I didn't cum at all. Not that time.
Afterwards he went straight into panic mode. He was quick to tell me it was our secret and I couldn't tell anyone or he could get in a lot of trouble and even lose his job if my parents put pressure on the club. He never suggested it was a one time thing or that I should find a new coach. I got dressed and went home.
To his credit he didn't act like nothing had happened. When I showed up for my next lesson he immediately said what had happened was wrong and that I shouldn't have started it. He told me again that it had to be our secret. While emphasizing again that I had initiated it and he had just reacted like any man would. But he still never suggested it couldn't happen again. He stopped just short of outright propositioning me.
I agreed with him. Told him he was right and that I shouldn't have started it and that I was baiting him. I promised it would be our secret. And it would be our secret if it happened again. He asked if that's what I wanted. And that's when I confessed that I didn't get much attention from boys my age. And that I wanted to try more. That I didn't want to go away to college with no experience.
Of course he had a box of condoms in his desk this time. It's hard to say who was manipulating whom. I gave my first blow job that day. He even dribbled on my white pullover. I had to throw it away so my mom wouldn't find it.
After that we had sex almost every other time we were together. Sometimes we had a tennis lesson first. Other times he was just getting paid by my parents to have sex with their daughter. I'd read about things online and ask for it. We did almost everything two people can do alone. He tied me up. He spanked me. He fucked my virgin asshole. He bought me toys and lingerie. It was a dirty thrill leaving my parents house with slutty lingerie under my clothes knowing I was going off to spend the afternoon fucking. And they had no clue.
I know he fetishized me. Because of my race and maybe because of my age. Every now and then he'd tell me I was special or bring up feelings he had for me, but it felt like he was just trying to tell me what he thought I wanted to hear. I definitely didn't feel a thing for him. He was attractive, but it was purely transactional for me. I approached it like my studies. I wanted to learn more and experience new things.
When I was ready to go off to college I didn't have a reason to keep taking tennis lessons back home. He tried to convince me I needed them and should stay active in an adult league. I don't know if he just wanted to keep getting paid or keep getting pussy. Probably both.
We fucked at least 50 times. Unlike that first day, he usually got me off. But ten years later I can barely remember the details of anything other than the first time he fucked me. When he didn't wait for me to say yes and bent me over the arm of the couch and used me. Even back then it always felt like I was trying to relive an experience and always falling short. After we'd fuck I'd go home and fantasize about the first time and get myself off. Without Mark's knowledge, I even started baiting and fucking other guys. Strangers mostly. But it wasn't the same. I defintely had a good time and even some memorable experiences. But nothing as impactful as that rainy day in Mark's office.
I'm almost 30 now. I don't try to bait men any more. At least not often. I don't fuck strangers like I did in my college days. And I don't think about sex with Mark daily. Sometimes I even go months without thinking about it. And then one day it's back. And for a week I find myself chasing that high again. Even if it's just alone in my home face down on the couch with a toy, like today.
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