Clara and Adrian headed to the tennis court, the tension between them palpable but well-disguised under a veneer of casual conversation. As they started to play, Adrian broke the silence.
"So, the rich asshole your father wants you to marry is… Henry Caldwell?" he asked, hitting the ball back to Clara.
Clara smirked. "Yes, it's him."
Adrian's eyes narrowed slightly as he returned her shot. "What do you think of him?"
Clara paused, raising an eyebrow. "Why do you ask, Adrian? Are you jealous?"
Adrian's expression remained cool. "Why would I be?"
Clara chuckled and answered his question. "I think he's boring. He's in good shape for his age, but he could barely last a match with me."
Adrian's lips curled into a sarcastic smile. "Are we still talking about tennis?"
Clara met his gaze, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I haven't played anything else with him yet."
Adrian felt a surge of anger at the thought of Henry Caldwell messing around with Clara, looking at her, flirting with her, trying to lay his hands on her... He knew she was provoking him, and the worst part was that it was working. He tightened his grip on the racket, trying to maintain his composure.
"Don’t waste your time," Adrian said, his voice taut. "That idiot can’t play anything better than he plays tennis."
Clara's eyes sparkled mischievously as she returned the ball with a powerful serve. "Why? Would it bother you if I played anything else with him?"
"You're something else, Clara," Adrian said, his voice edged with tension. “I took your virginity two days ago and you’re acting like this. Should’ve fucked you harder so every time you moved you be reminded of who that pussy belongs to.”
She gave him a playful look. "You’re right, Adrian. You should have."
In a serious tone, Adrian ordered Clara, "Serve now. And make sure the ball falls out of the courtyard."
Clara frowned, puzzled. "Why?"
"Just do it," Adrian insisted firmly.
Respecting his command, Clara took her position. With a determined swing, she struck the ball hard enough to send it sailing past the opposite end of the court, landing beyond the benches.
Adrian nodded approvingly. "Now come with me to pick up the ball," he instructed.
Adrian gestured for her to follow him as he headed towards the end of the tennis court, behind the benches. Clara walked alongside him, feeling the weight of his seriousness. The air around them crackled with tension as they approached the spot where the ball had landed—out of everyone’s sight.
Adrian pulled Clara by the arm and pinned her against the wall, his body pressed firmly against her back. Close to her ear, he murmured, "I don’t like the way you’ve been behaving today."
Clara laughed softly, feeling the warmth of his breath against her skin. "And what are you going to do about it?" she teased.
Adrian grinned, his tone playful yet authoritative. "I’m going to remind you to be nice," he replied, his hands sliding down her arms in a gentle yet firm gesture.
Adrian lifted her tennis skirt and pulled down her sports panties. He began to spank her ass, not the hardest he could but hard enough so she would feel her skin burning. It was a little painful but Clara began to enjoy it way more than she thought. After some final slaps, Adrian grabbed her ass and his fingers slid in between her legs; she was wet.
Adrian pulled Clara by the arm and turned her to face him. His hand made its way back to her wet pussy, "Is this why you were all provocative today?"
Clara laughed, but her laugh was quickly suppressed by an involuntary moan as Adrian began to finger her. "Are you going to finger me ?" she teased.
Before Clara could say anything else, a loud moan came out of her mouth as Adrian inserted one finger into her pussy. He covered her mouth; as much as they were hidden behind the benches, he didn’t want to risk getting any attention.
Her pussy was wet and pulsing over his hand, which made him feel insanely horny. Adrian wanted to taste her juices so bad, but he also wanted to make her cum as fast as he could because they didn’t have much time before their absence turned suspicious. By the look on her face, it really wouldn’t take long.
Clara collapsed from an intense orgasm all over his hand. Her flushed cheeks and her eyes rolling while she twitched and gasped for him made Adrian so hard his cock was marking his pants. He looked into her face again and saw her staring at him with those pleading eyes, as she wanted more. He had to give her more.
Adrian turned Clara to the wall again. He lifted her tennis skirt and finished pulling her panties down to her knees. He opened his pants and pulled them down just enough to get his dick out and penetrated her at once. She moaned way too loud again, so he covered her mouth once more as he fucked her hard against the wall. It was risky, but he couldn’t help it, he wanted her so bad right there that he would fuck her in front of her entire family if he had to.
With some final, deep thrusts, he came inside of her. He uncovered her mouth and got himself out of her pussy and quickly closed his pants.
Breathless, Adrian ordered, "Put your panties back on and go back to the table for lunch."
Clara, equally breathless, looked at him incredulous. "You really want me to walk around with your cum dripping down my pussy and go back to have lunch with my family like nothing happened?"
"Exactly," he said, his tone firm and mischievous.
Clara took a deep breath, picked up her white panties and adjusted them under her skirt. She walked past Adrian, her heart racing, and very close to him she bent down to pick up the ball she had served earlier. Without another word, she shook the ball in front of him and headed back to the table, trying to compose herself for the meal ahead.
Clara sat at the table with her family and the Caldwells. Her father looked at her, his brow furrowed. "Where were you?" he asked.
"I went to pick up the ball I served too hard. It fell behind the benches," Clara replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
Her father rolled his eyes. "There are employees who do things like that."
Clara sighed and rolled her eyes in return. "It didn’t cost anything to pick up the ball."
Her father then glanced around the table. "And where’s Adrian?"
Clara lied smoothly, "I don’t know. He went somewhere else, and I didn’t see him anymore."
As lunch was being served, a young man approached the table, slightly out of breath. "Sorry I’m late," he apologized. "I was at lacrosse practice."
Henry Caldwell stood up and smiled. "Everyone, this is my son, Henry Caldwell Jr."