His body weight was distributed carefully, professionally and evenly as he served the first ball. Success, the opponent swung and hit back swiftly. With his left arm Nadal hit back scoring a point. This wasn’t training anymore, this was serious. The browned off patches stood strong against the rest of the courts lush greenness, continuously being used unlike the green but still not forgotten. The way his lips made a little ‘o’ every time he swung and hit the ball made my stomach twitch. We hadn’t spoken at all. Purely eye contact, that was all that was needed when it came to a new acquaintance. He was deliciously ripped, biceps bulging through his white polo, a crisp dark tan, tall and brown eyes. What more could a 17 year old want? He was 9 years my senior but that didn’t stop me gazing. Gazing was harmless, right? Every time he’d collect a towel or a ball he’d give me the tiniest smile, as if for only me. It was my smile, no one else’s. At breaks I would stand as close by as I could wondering if he’d give me another smile. But no, it was too obvious if he deliberately turned around to smile at me. We were on the centre court of Wimbledon for goodness sake, let’s not be fools here.
At the end of the match I was in the changing room, last. All the other girls and boys had left quickly in order to get home for Eastenders. I decided not to rush. I put one foot on the bench to untie my shoe, quickly being interrupted.
“Ahh, I thought you’d be in here.” A thick Spanish accent said from the doorway. Instantly I turned around and caught sight of a smiling Nadal leaning against the door frame. Different from the last time I had saw him on court, he was less sweaty and smiling.
“Yup. This is where we all come at the end to get showered.” I smile back packing a few more things into my bag. My shoe was still untied…
“I see the way you were looking at me.” He states bravely coming more towards me but keeping a safe enough distance. So it wasn’t just my imagination? “What is your name?”
“Rachel.” I say quickly back. He nods understanding.
“So, Rachel. Why were you looking at me in such a way?” He frowns in a teasing way, his arms behind his back taking another step forward. My stomach was just knotting up into tiny balls. I squint my eyes at him then gape a little with a smile.
“Why were you looking at me the way you were?” I challenge back leaning against a nearby table.
“Short skirt.” He says back with a shrug of the shoulders. “You’re quite tall ey? Thought you girls were meant to be little tiny things.” He indicates with his hand about 3ft off the ground.
“Guess I’m special.” I reply with a shrug mirroring his previous action.
“You’re just there to tease me no?” He purses his lips together, another step, now he was in front of me. I was now sitting with my legs crossed, hands supporting me. He looks down at me with a completely serious face now.
“Ohh. I get it, you’ve got some sexual frustration you want to get out?” I nod understanding whilst taking a big breath in. My arms looped around his neck, oh god how is this happening?! Next thing I knew he planted a solid kiss onto my lips, firm but powerful. Once knowing I was ok with it he lies me down and pushes my dark blue polo up, planting kisses on my stomach and upwards. My legs were now open and his clothed crotch was digging into my own. Stopping momentarily I ripped his headband from his hair and scrunched it between my fingers. I was keeping that. Little bits of his hair tickled my own forehead, soon enough he was travelling downwards but I didn’t want that.
“Skip the foreplay.” I gasp as he stops just below my belly button. My skirt being short enough, it didn’t need to be hoisted so he pulled me to sit up and hastily pulled his shorts down, followed by his boxers. I took in the sight I’d probably never see again… His thrusts were short bursts which increased rapidly, little beads of sweat were already forming on his forehead, I wiped them away. One of my hands was around his neck my other gripping onto the bottom of his polo. Since I was generally not very vocal during sex he kept looking at me which naturally made me squeak in pleasure. His grunts were the same pitch as his voice so they were teenage boy who had just literally gone through puberty. I could sense we were both close to the finish line, oh god what would I say to him after?
CLICK. Making him and me jump he turned around with a worried expression and saw a photographer standing there, once noticing we had saw him he ran off out of the changing room. Nadal pulled his shorts up shamefully and didn’t give me any eye contact. Oh god, this wasn’t as bad for me but this could be real bad for his career.
Shit.
To be on the safe side he didn’t take my number afterwards and he explained why.
“I’ll deal with this, it wasn’t you’re fault. You’re young I took advantage. Yes?” I nodded in response.
“What’re you going to say to the press?” I ask tucking a bit of hair behind my ear.
“Urr… I’ll just say. I do not know, but I’ll think of something. Trust me ok?” He sighs sleeking his hair back across his head.
“It was good, thanks Nadal.” I smile emphasizing his last name. Collecting my things I sling it over my shoulder and walk slowly past him. “Until next time.” I give a cheeky wink, he smiles back and shakes his head laughing a little.
“Bye… Rachel.” Was all I heard as I exited the changing room.
