People who watch racquetball just see the serves and missed returns. But what they were really seeing with Lissa and me were two people making love on...the racquetball court.Don’t ask me how we ever got to this point. Someplace, racquetball became like sex to us. We met each other’s thrusts. We rolled over each other without hesitation—without breaking the rhythm. We went through foreplay, even sneaking a kiss. We built the tempo, reading each other’s wants and needs—knowing where to stimulate. " She opened her eyes for a brief second to look down at my own, as if my demand was a physical impossibility - and then moaned in frustration and again closed them. My wife of seven years began to aggressively frig her clitoris.It was a delicious sight - and I had to fight from the urge to spin her about on the bed and fuck her with all the passion I was feeling for her.She may think I was expressing my dominance to allow her to enjoy her erotic energy - but I think of these little moments as. More

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