With a lunge to my right and a quick cross step, I swatted the tennis ball, just clearing the net. We were playing doubles. Me and Jacki versus Jacki’s nephew and his friend, whose name was Dirk. Dirk, frankly, was a stud. A ferociously good-looking guy and a demon on the court.

Too bad he was close to half my age.

I had to give the game my all in a desperate attempt to keep up, while Dirk and Jacki’s nephew seemed to be lobbing balls back to us with carefree ease.

Tennis had once been my life. But these days it was keeping me from sliding into middle-aged disrepair. It got my blood pumping; I liked breaking a sweat. The game helped keep my body toned and trim, even if I wasn’t as sharp a player as I’d been in the old days. And even though I had a kid who was barely older than Dirk.

But I knew I’d be feeling the effects of that match later in the form of sore muscles. Still, the eye candy on the other side of the net was nice. Dirk was all gliding movements and fluid backhands. He had a good eye, too. I’d gone up against players like him on the pro circuit, back in the day.

Jacki gave it her grunting best. She was my age. I didn’t know what had possessed her to take on her nephew and his friend. We lost the game, but at least we made it close. The boys were very gracious winners.

Dirk shook my hand, holding it for longer than necessary. I didn’t mind his touch.

“You’re a terrific player,” he said.

“You’re thinking of 25-year-old me,” I said with a self-deprecating grin.

“The hell I am.” He gazed at me with big liquid eyes, and I felt something pass between us — or maybe I was just wishing something had. I wasn’t quite sure. I had been quite the libertine in my youth, capitalizing on my semi-fame with starstruck young men who turned out in droves to watch my matches.

Dirk dropped his voice so Jacki, gabbing to her nephew, wouldn’t hear us, and said, “I’d like to play you sometime. Just us. Would you like that?”

My throat was tight. “I would,” I said huskily.

We set a day and time. I didn’t tell Jacki about it. Our appointed “date” already had the feeling of a tryst. I chided myself for the feeling, though. That fine young man just wanted to play tennis … right? I could enjoy the fantasy that it was something more, but there was no guarantee anything was going to come of it.

When the day came, I was as prepped for a game as I’d been in years. My muscles were loose. I’d been practicing my ass off. We met at the same court, just the two of us. He gave me a dazzling smile.

“I’m so glad you came,” he said.

I caught myself before I turned his words into a dirty riposte. I didn’t want to put him off. Men my age were after me all the time, but I didn’t often draw guys in their mid-20s anymore.

We started the match. The ball went back and forth. He had excellent range, but I’d always had a good first step and was able to keep up. The points stayed even.

I felt good, in the flow. If I could have played like that every day, I might still be on the circuit. Dirk was full of exuberant energy on his side of the court. I loved how his white outfit hugged his keen lines. He had strong limbs and a firm butt I wanted to bite.

He edged me out in our first set. I bounced the ball, staring across the net. Something unseemly had occurred to me. I asked, “Hey, are you going easy on me?”

He gaped. “Are you kidding? I’m giving you everything I’ve got.”

I threw myself into the next set. I watched him closely. He really did appear to be going all out. I amped it up even more, giving him my best stuff. I took the lead, then somehow I stayed ahead of him.

Making the game shot to take set two, 6-4, I let out a cry of triumph. He came to shake my hand, like a good sport. I was trembling with exertion, flying on endorphins. Maybe that was what gave me the courage to ask: “You want to use up the rest of your stamina on a third set, or do you want to try it out on me?”

Immediately after speaking, I flushed with embarrassment. It was the sort of bold talk I got away with two decades ago. I worried Dirk was going to flee in horror.

Only he didn’t. Instead, his eyes lit up.

“I’ve been wanting to say something like that since I met you.” Still holding my hand, he pulled me right up to the net. I gasped, and then our mouths came together. His lips were lovely. They moved gently but urgently against mine.

I boldly thrust my tongue into his mouth. He still didn’t bolt. He kissed me harder, his hands resting on my body. Desire blossomed within me. He reached down to draw up my skirt.

With my urgency mirroring his, I said, “We need to get off this court.”

Dirk had a noticeable hard-on as I led him to my car. We raced to my place, and I pulled him through my front door and down the hall to my bedroom. We flung off our sweaty tennis gear as we went and arrived eager and naked at the foot of my bed.

“We smell kinda ripe,” Dirk said. “How about a shower?”

We headed to the bathroom just off the bedroom and were soon together beneath streaming hot water. Four soap-lathered hands caressed slick bare flesh in a sensual frenzy.

He kneaded my breasts robustly, bringing my nipples to aching stiffness. I groped the twin swells of his ass as he rubbed his hard cock against my belly. Steam spilled out the open door, back into the bedroom, and we followed it after a cursory drying with towels.

Our damp bodies hit the bed, and our mouths devoured one another. He kissed like he played tennis — giving it his all. I met his slavering tongue with mine. As I did, I reached down and grabbed hold of his cock.

It was warm and stiff in my grip. I pumped his shaft, and he moaned into my open mouth. His hand slithered between my thighs. When his fingertips grazed my slick cleft, I bucked with pleasure. Heat raced within me; desire was alive and bright in my deepest recesses.

The dazed look on his face told me he was relishing my body, which was a vast relief. No buyer’s remorse that he’d gone to bed with a woman my age. I certainly didn’t feel a flicker of disappointment. He was as splendid and fit as I’d expected.

I had to have a taste of him.

I kissed a path down his throat, then licked a southward line on his firm pecs. I pressed my open mouth to his six-pack abs before slipping down between his muscular thighs. His sturdy cock reared up before my face.

Cupping his balls gently in my hand, I breathed on his cockhead. He squirmed, gratifyingly. I lowered my mouth onto his swollen crown. I savored the smooth texture of his flesh as I ran my tongue over him. With the ring of my lips sealed around his shaft, I descended lower and lower, sucking him down to where I cradled his sac. He let out a ragged cry.

I answered with a groan as I kept the length of him in my mouth. The resulting humjob made him claw at the bed. I decided to keep it up, bobbing my head up and down as I delivered a growling accompaniment.

He started saying, “So good! So good! That humming.”

But his words devolved into helpless gibberish. The flavor of him excited me; I had to have his jizz. Judging by his temperament, his release wasn’t far off.

Dirk tried to warn me about his imminent orgasm, but he couldn’t speak words anymore. That was OK. I knew exactly what I was doing. I kept up the suction and maintained my relentless rhythm. I was ready when he let his first spurt loose. Spew after spew followed, and I swallowed every bit of his cream.

I rolled onto my back, panting, with my eyes closed. There was movement beside me. Was it Dirk getting up? Were we done? Maybe I’d been a little greedy.

Wrong. He spread my legs and shouldered in between my thighs. I felt his hot breath on my streaming pussy. When his tongue touched my groove, I jumped and pleasure flooded my senses.

He took his time; Dirk had excellent technique. His tongue opened me, and he delved inside. My excitement rose and rose before he focused on my clit.

He worked the eager little bud like a master, his tongue flicking up and down and batting it gently. He even took it between his lips and ever so delicately nibbled on it. I moaned as my climax rattled me to my core.

I caught my breath and opened my eyes to see Dirk rising from between my legs. His cock was as hard as a rock all over again. I’d forgotten about the bounce-back stamina of young men.

He climbed onto me. I drew up my knees, practically to my shoulders. I wanted him to go deep; I wanted all of him. His brought his cockhead to my brimming pussy entrance and slowly slid his shaft into me.

The pleasure was exquisite as he reamed my hole. The living girth of him awoke fresh excitement in me. He leaned his firm weight on me, and I caressed his body, fondling his taut muscles. His cock bottomed out. I felt him plunge into my deepest depths as my spasming pussy clutched him tightly.

With breath chugging from his lips, he started stroking in and out of me rhythmically. I pulled his face down toward mine and licked my juices off his mouth. He responded by fucking me harder, and I snarled happily.

Our bodies smacked together, creating a lovely carnal cacophony. I felt so alive. I was still vibrant, still in the game. Dirk was a wonderful partner. He might never know what he’d done for me.

I lifted my hips to meet his thrusts. He was slamming away, and I watched the control slip from his handsome face. Seconds after he came again, I was right there with him, riding the wave of ecstasy and reaffirming my own sexual worth. Game, set and match.