“It is driving me loco,” I said to her after we finished
the tennis session.

“You will have to get used to it,” she said calmly.

“But, it is terrible,” I whined. “Can’t I just, you
know,” I said softly, face burning.

“Masturbate?” she said calmly. “Jerk off? What do you
call it, Emillio?”

“Si, both of those things,” I murmured, blushing.

“Are you asking me to let you jerk off?” she said, her
voice louder and I looked around at the empty court.

“Yes, yes,” I said quickly in case Kimberley returned.

She studied me thoughtfully for moment. “You got to this
stage more quickly than I planned. However,” she said
briskly, “we can move ahead. There is a small
professional tournament next week, here in Vegas. You
reach the final and I will allow you to play with
yourself.”

The way this beautiful woman said it in those clipped
tones of hers as she smiled at me caused me to blush
deeply. I felt so humiliated but the arousal drove me
on. “Next week! Ingrid,” I begged, “I cannot wait until
then.”

“You have no choice, Emillio,” she said with finality.
“And,” Ingrid reminded me, “you have to get through to
the final.”

***

The next morning, Kimberley was dressed in tight white
shorts that hugged her round ass and a sleeveless, low
cut top, which emphasised her large breasts. I groaned
to myself as my cock throbbed in the chastity tube and
threw myself into the exercises. My eyes were drawn to
her smooth ass time and time again as we worked and,
although her eyes were hidden by sunglasses, I guessed
she noticed me looking.

We finally finished and Kimberley smiled at me. “Good
work,” she said. “For the first time, Emillio, I felt
you were really trying.”

Trying to forget my poor cock, I thought to myself but,
instead, said, “I’m getting better at it.”

“You are. And,” she said, smiling as she loosened her
thick red hair, “I’m going to reward you with two pieces
of information.” She moved closer to me and her warm arm
rested on my forearm as she pushed her breasts against
me. “You’ve been looking so hard, I’ll tell you,” she
breathed. “I am wearing a very brief thong under my
shorts and,” she added as my cock tingled, “the thong is
white. Satisfied, honey?” she giggled and walked away,
her ass moving in those shorts while my cock pulsed in
frustration.

Fuelled by frustration and anger, I finally beat Ingrid
in the first set and she silently applauded me as I
stood sweating on the back line. For the rest of the
afternoon, she mercilessly forced me to practice every
type of serve imaginable.

“Tomorrow,” she said watching me as I mopped my face
with a towel; “we volley and work on the net.”

Frustration was with me every waking moment and I was so
focused on the tournament, determined to get through to
the final that I worked so hard the next morning,
Kimberley called for a break.