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. ...omeplace, 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 our partner for just the right response. We slid against each other. “Nothing,” Connie replied, “I haven’t had sex in over a year and I’m horny as fuck.”I could tell.Connie took a step back and pulled her form-fitting t-shirt over her head, allowing it to fall to the floor. She was braless and well endowed with a gorgeous set of all-natural boobs, on which set small, round, light tan areolas and hardened pencil eraser-tipped-like nipples. She wiggled out of her cut-off shorts, allowing them to fall to the floor as well. She stepped out of them. She sported a. More

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