Squash ball + rope = ball gag [MF]

I’m stuck down at my parents’ place during lockdown, so I’ve had plenty of time to reflect on my past conquests. (This one’s kinda long so if you wanna skip to the action, look for the paragraphs beginning with a *)

Right now, my go-to has been a particularly proud moment at uni. My first year was the perfect environment to reinvent myself as someone who really took what I wanted. To set the scene a little, I’ve always been blessed up top, but until the summer before freshers, never that athletic. After getting into my first choice, I decided to change that and hit the cardio hard, getting closer to my ideal slut-worthy body. When I got to uni I decided to test it out in some of the sports societies, and on some of their members. Rather than go for the big ones – football, rugby, rowing – I sought out the ones with a bit more intersex interaction and a heavy boy:girl imbalance.

Of these, I struck gold with the squash society – loads of guys, mixed doubles, and something that would keep me on my toes. I knew pretty much nothing about squash but had some eager instructors, and one thing I quickly noticed was that despite my lack of grace or skill, my games sometimes managed to draw an audience, who’d gather on a little balcony overlooking the court. I revelled in the attention but obviously wanted to take it a little further.

My first score was Jack – great at squash, but not with words. He was a willing teacher, and when he’d be correcting my stroke I’d back myself into him and feel him tense up. Before this I really hadn’t had this effect on many guys, and I definitely hadn’t used my sexuality like that. I loved it and vowed to reward him for his good deeds.

It started by pushing the limits of what I could wear on the court. As there weren’t many girls playing squash I volunteered for mixed doubles with Jack as my partner. I pretended to take this really serious and started scheduling practice sessions with him, always the slot before closing so I could showcase my latest purchases – basically whatever I could buy 2 sizes too small – and then proceed to give him an eyeful, paired with generous hugs. Jack wasn’t an idiot and started picking up on this but was still hesitant to make a move. Over the course of a couple of weeks I’d get occasional compliments, but I wanted more.

The next week we had a little tournament to decide on rankings, so we’d arranged to play another mixed pair for practice. The shortest skirt and the lowest cut top were side-lined for the night and when I arrived Jack made a comment about how he missed them – finally! Baby steps, still, but I wanted to reward his boldness and hatched a plan. After a trip to the bathroom and sometime into our practice, me and the other girl were down on court while the boys watched from the balcony, until Mel’s partner had to excuse himself. Noticing this and throwing a little more sway into my play to attract Jack’s attention, I lined up behind Mel and flipped up my skirt, revealing my bare ass to his gaze. It only lasted a second before we were playing again, but his reaction was all I could think about.

*Once Mel’s partner was back I had them play some singles and joined Jack on the balcony. I could see the hunger in his eyes but knew anything he said would be a jumbled mess at this point. I stepped forward and kissed him and after a second he found his feet and started pushing me back towards the wall – great start. Thrilled at how this was going I reached down and put my hand on his shorts, paying him back for all the advice he’d given me on my stroke. I kinda worried this might freak him out, but he reached down, flipped my skirt up and pulled me closer by my cheeks. This was going way better than I’d hoped and as his hands grew bolder I was soon moaning into his mouth. I had no concept of anything else at that point but Jack pressed a wet finger to my lips, signalling for me to be quiet. Let’s just say that’s not my strongpoint in these situations.

Not wanting for to things to slow down, or for us to be interrupted after spending weeks getting him to this point, I yanked down his shorts and boxers and sealed my lips around his rock hard cock. This earned me a stern look but certainly no protest, though he did cup my chin and lead me to the railing. Here I was hidden on the balcony and he could watch Mel and Ben finish up. Quick thinking on his part, as they started chatting almost immediately. Jack said I’d had to go *blah blah blah* but he’d stay to watch the end of their game. Still with his dick in my mouth, I was loving the risk of it all, and made sure I attacked his cock with particular vigour when he was speaking. After no time at all they were saying their goodbyes and thankfully hadn’t left anything on the balcony. With silence falling over the squash hall, I stood up and kissed him, and he finally said the right thing:

“You naughty slut.”

I told him he loved it and he couldn’t agree more. Not one to waste a moment, I leant over the railing and told him to show me. He stepped up behind me and, after a little fumbling, slid his dick into me.

Oh. My. God.

Being quiet went out the window.

It was a good job the others had gone because nothing was stopping me now. The culmination of weeks of teasing was paying off, but it was short-lived. Jack was grunting now too and before long he asked where he should cum. “Anywhere” was my answer and instantly he filled me up. I was on a high but I hadn’t cum, and I didn’t think my chances of him eating me out were too good now, so I sank to the floor next to him and panted together.

I’m not gonna lie, things were a little awkward, but we both agreed we should do that again, and so a trip to the balcony became our post-squash ritual. We managed to get another session in that week, complete with Jack’s favourite wardrobe again. It went pretty much the same, with me initiating the kiss and the touching, but once there he started to find his form. I know he’ll remember it for getting a titwank with the help of my skimpy sports bra, and then seeing them for the first time while we fucked on the benches.

The weekend was the mini tournament and a return to relative civility – or so I thought. Back in a modest skirt **and** underwear this time, I was surprised by Jack’s sneaky grins when he’d catch my eye. Now, he might not have been great with words, but our little balcony trips had obviously given him some confidence, and, as I was about to find out, a real taste for sex in public.

Once Jack and I had played all our matches we retired to the balcony to watch Mel’s game, and though we weren’t alone you could tell we were both experiencing some kind of Pavlovian arousal from being up there. Jack walked down the row of balconies before returning with another sneaky look in his eye. He grabbed his squash bag and beckoned for me to follow him. At this point people were still playing, and though the pair below us now weren’t part of the tournament and likely wouldn’t attract an audience, we were still only an unlocked door away from the rest of the society. This obviously didn’t faze Jack though, as he moved in for the kiss this time, pushing me up against the back wall and bringing a hand to my chest. I reciprocated and could already feel how hard he was through his shorts. He moved his hand south too, caressing my ass through the fabric. When it was clear he wanted to go further, I spoke up. New to uni, and to being a slut, in my mind I was worried about getting caught, and I knew if we carried on everyone would be able to hear me between occasional thwacks and grunts from the courts below.

*Jack smiled again and went to his squash bag, retrieving a squash ball pierced twice and with some rope threaded through. In hindsight it was genius, though at the time my sex drive was looking for any excuse to carry on. He walked behind me and drew it into my mouth, kissing my neck at the same time. Pulling it tight, he moved us towards the balcony railing, just close enough so I could see over into the court below where play continued. His other hand moved back down to my skirt, squeezing my ass and making me bite down around the improvised ball gag, or as much as I could now. Comfortable I wasn’t going to suffocate, he whispered in my ear:

“I hope you like your present, slut.”

What a mouth. I whimpered into the gag and he flipped up my skirt and starting tracing along my panties, which I was rapidly soaking through. Still with one hand holding the gag in place, he pulled these down and started to explore with his fingers, testing my silence. Readjusting his grip on my reins, he slipped his fingers in, again whispering about how wet I was. He was taking his time, and every second we spent in that position added to the danger of being caught. Withdrawing his fingers, I could hear him lick them, and, getting ever bolder, he then returned to circle rings around my other hole. This was uncharted territory for us, and for me at this point. I tensed, fearing what sound might escape if he went any further. With his free hand he pushed down his shorts, before returning it to circle my clit this time. I moaned sighs of relief and anticipation into the squash ball, which seemed to be working quite well, though I was increasingly nonchalant on this front.

Holding the gag tight he pushed me forward again, bending me over so my hands rested on the railing. With his other hand he pushed my legs apart and lined up his cock. Then he stayed like that, with it resting ever so slightly against me. I was desperate but my pleas and squeals were silenced, and he continued to take his time, rubbing his dick up and down, tantalisingly close.

When he finally entered me I was so relieved my knees bent and I almost lost him again. Snapping upright I pushed back and enveloped him, starting to rock back and forth in a motion that would have made it obvious to the players below had they looked up. I didn’t care.

Had I been thinking I would have been so proud of my progress with Jack – a week ago I was lucky to get a garbled compliment out of him, and now he was fucking me in public, and I was fucking loving it.

He soon took over, stepping up the pace and holding the gag tight in my mouth. Soon his restraint was gone, and though he tried to avoid it, sometimes the slapping of our bodies joined the sounds of bouncing balls below.

I don’t know how long it lasted, certainly longer than the first time, but we didn’t get caught, and I moaned several orgasms into the improvised ball gag. It was hot, it was heavy, and it’s been the memory getting me through the COVID dick drought. Eventually he pulled me back by my reins and whispered he was close, and that this time he wanted to come in my mouth. I nodded as best I could and he released me. No sooner was my mouth free than it was on his dick. He came hard, spurt after spurt landing on my tongue and painting my tonsils, and I swallowed it all, like a good little slut. When he was done, I looked up

“Thank you.”

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/gcao9r/squash_ball_rope_ball_gag_mf