Personal Best (Part 6)

Mildly erotic

Sunday – race day! I’d had a fitful night’s sleep. I kept thinking of Sam – and not in the ‘Biblical sense’ (this time!). In my head I kept going over her race preparation, wondering if I’d done enough, if there was anything I’d forgotten, and what I may have missed out. I imagined the race, trying to envision anything that could go wrong that I needed to warn Sam about. I made a mental note to remind her to double-tie the laces on her trainers ahead of the race. I was more nervous for Sam’s race than I’d ever been for one I’d actually taken part in. I guess it’s due to the lack of control. Once she was out on the road there was nothing I could do to help her.

 

I really wanted Sam to do herself justice. She had proved to be a keen and attentive student. I hoped her commitment and dedication would translate into a performance she was proud of. I wasn’t even too hung up on the time that she did: I’d be just as happy if she finished in fifty-one-minutes as I would if she finished in forty-nine-minutes – okay, maybe not quite so happy!

 

I got up at seven-thirty and looked eagerly out of the window. The weather was fine and dry, not overly hot, with just a slight breeze, ideal running conditions. I arrived at the school playing field where the race was due to start, just before nine o’clock. It was already busy. I recognised several competitors from my running days. A few asked me if I was considering making a comeback. If they’d asked me this three months ago I would have laughed and said, ‘No way!’. Today I surprised myself by replying, “Maybe.’

 

Judging by the runners milling about in the field it was going to be a well-supported event. I saw runners with entry numbers in the high-seven-hundreds. I’d seen a couple of competitors with the name of Sam’s vet practice on their bright pink tee-shirts that I took to be Sam’s team-mates. What I hadn’t seen so far was Sam herself. I looked furtively at my watch, it was quarter-past-nine. She was late. I began to worry that there had been a last-minute hitch.

 

Just then I saw another bright-pink tee-shirt like the one Sam’s colleagues were wearing. It was Sam, looking flustered. She saw me and jogged over with her mum, dad and sister scurrying along behind. Sam apologised for being late and explained that her sister had decided to change just as they were leaving. Sam introduced me to her parents. I obviously knew Sam’s dad, Jim, as an acquaintance from the pub where we both frequented. He was the one that had initially asked if I could help Sam out. I’d seen Sam’s mum occasionally but didn’t really know her. She was called Angela but preferred to be known as Angie or Ange. She was a very attractive women in her mid-forties with a fine figure. She had the same golden-blond hair as Sam although she wore it slightly shorter than shoulder-length. She was immaculately dressed in a cream silk blouse and tailored jeans. It was immediately apparent where Sam got her good looks from. Ella, Sam’s sister – who Sam had described as ‘challenging’ – presented as a disinterested teenager that was there under duress and would rather still be at home in bed. Although seventeen-years-old she presented as younger. She was shorter than her elder sister, slender with a slightly larger bust than Sam. She was above-average looking but was pretty whereas Sam was stunning – to my eyes anyway! She probably shared her mum’s golden hair but today it was streaked with purple shades and worn in two braided pigtails finished off with purple ribbons. She was wearing a white blouse, unbuttoned enough to show off her cleavage and lacy, purple bra, a very short grey pleated mini skirt, white knee-length socks, and branded trainers. She looked like Britney Spears in her ‘Oops I’ve done it again’ period.

 

“Many thanks for looking after Sam. “ Sam’s dad said, “I bet you wasn’t expecting all this when I approached you in the pub?”

 

“Not at all.” I confirmed, “But Sam’s been great to work with.”

 

“She tells us everything you’ve been doing.” he continued, “You’ve been very thorough.”

 

I shot Sam a glance as I thought, ‘I hope she’s not really told them everything!’ Sam smiled coyly, I think she was thinking the same.

 

“What time do you think she will do it in?” he asked, seemingly genuinely interested.

 

“I’m really hoping she does it in under fifty-minutes.” I said, “But realistically I’d be delighted with anything under the hour.”

 

I had looked at Sam as I mentioned ‘under-fifty-minutes’ and had seen the knowing smile on her face. She even winked at me and mouthed ‘I’ll try’.

 

“As quick as that?” Sam’s dad sounded impressed, “I was expecting her to take well over the hour. I’d written the whole morning off. If she does it that quick I should be able to get away in time to do something useful.” 

 

Nothing like a supportive dad I thought. Once the introductions were complete I could concentrate on Sam’s preparations. As I mentioned previously, she was already wearing her team’s distinctive bright-pink tee shirt. I thought it best to get Sam’s mum to pin her competitor number to the front of her shirt rather than me fiddling about in such close proximity to Sam’s adorable little boobs! Once the number was secure Sam removed her jogging bottoms. Underneath she was wearing the lightweight racing shorts that she’d bought when I’d been out with her. Unlike Lycra shorts these were loose around the crotch to promote airflow. As Sam sat on the grass securing her trainers – by the way, I did remember to tell her to double-tie the laces – we could all see up Sam’s shorts. Fortunately, Sam had put panties on today. Can you imagine the embarrassment if she hadn’t? The thought of standing there with Sam’s parents and sister all looking at Sam’s exposed pussy would be too much to bear, or possibly too much to bare!

 

As it was, Sam appeared completely unaware of the splendid view she was affording us of her tiny pink panties. Not one of us – not even Sam’s mum – thought to tell her just how much we could see. And not one of us – certainly not me (!) – thought to look away. When Sam was satisfied that her trainers were secure she stood up. I think we were all relieved that Sam was decent again.

 

I led Sam through some basic stretches, ensuring that she didn’t do any that resulted in us seeing up her shorts again. Sam packed all her discarded gear into a sports bag and gave it to me to look after. We then located Sam’s colleagues for a pre-race team photo. They would all be easy to spot in their fluorescent pink tops. No sooner was this complete than there was an announcement over the loudspeakers for competitors to make their way to the start. I made sure Sam had a final drink and reminded her to make use of the drink station at halfway. Finally, I told her to take note of the wind direction; it would be a headwind when they were out in the country but it should be behind them coming back.

 

Sam gave her parents and sister a kiss, and gave me a hug. Then she was gone into the throng in the starting chute. Although there were hundreds of runners we could pick Sam out among them due to the combination of her pink top and long blond hair.

 

The town mayor gave a short speech, wished the runners ‘good luck’ and then sent them on their way with a loud bang from a starting pistol. We all cheered as they set off.

 

With at least half-an-hour to spare before the leading competitors came back into sight Sam’s parents offered to get coffees; Ella said she’d prefer an ice-cream. Sam’s parents went off in search of refreshments leaving me with Ella. Bearing in mind what Sam had warned me about her precocious sister I felt uneasy. Although to be fair, so far Ella had come across as a mild-mannered, softly spoken, demure young lady that wouldn’t say ‘boo to a goose’. I sat down on the grass. Ella sat down directly in front of me, cross-legged with her knees spread to the sides, open and carefree. In a skirt as short as Ella was wearing it was a devil-may-care posture. I looked her directly in the eyes knowing full-well that if I looked down I was likely to see something I shouldn’t. Ella started suggestively playing with the buttons on her white blouse. She feigned shock with a mock ‘Oops’ as the button came undone. Even though I was concentrating on her face I knew that she had revealed more of her purple bra.

 

“Do you like my bra?” she asked forthrightly, “I love the colour don’t you?”

 

As I’d been asked directly, I couldn’t help but look. Her bra was lacy and sexy; her boobs were full and round.

 

“It’s very nice.” I replied cautiously.

 

“It matches my panties.” she giggled, “Would you like to see them?”

 

“No, I better not.” I replied, trying desperately to focus on her face.

 

“You were looking at my sister’s panties earlier. I saw you staring up her shorts.” she continued, “I know you’d like to see mine too. I’ll make it easy for you, look.”

 

Although I was still concentrating on her face, in my peripheral vision I could see that she had lifted up her little mini skirt. I couldn’t hold on any longer; she was a desirable girl, and very seductive for one so young. Like Adam taking the forbidden fruit from Eve, I gave in to temptation. I looked between Ella’s legs; with her skirt hitched up she was giving me an exceptional view. Her panties were purple, lacy and very sexy. Ella was quick to notice where I was looking.

 

“Well, do you like them?” she chuckled, seemingly delighted that she had lured me.

 

“They are very pretty.” I replied, then involuntarily I heard myself continue, “And so are you.”

 

“Aww, thank you.” she smiled, “Have you seen my sister’s nunny?” she asked candidly.

 

I spluttered involuntarily at her directness. I noted how she’d called her vulva her ‘nunny’ just as Sam always referred to it. I wondered if their mum had told them to call it that? Then I considered if their mum called her own vulva her ‘nunny’? I quickly dispelled the passing vision I had of their mum’s nunny. I was lost for words.

 

“Well? Have you seen it?” Ella persisted.

 

Further hesitation was as good as an admission of guilt. She would naturally assume that I had. But what was the correct – the truthful – answer? I had only seen the top of Sam’s slit. I say ‘only’ because at the time it had been so exciting, so arousing – and so unexpected. I decided that the limited view of it that I’d seen didn’t count.

 

“No I haven’t.” I said unequivocally, “And really you shouldn’t ask such things.” I added, trying to unsettle her.

 

“Would you like to see mine?” she asked bluntly, as if she was asking if I’d like to see her new shoes or something equally mundane.

 

Before I had chance to reply, and with no regard for the fact that we were in a public place surrounded by people, Ella had reached down and pulled the crotch of her purple panties to one side, totally exposing her cute little vulva. It was silky smooth with hardly any protuberance; externally it was a deep mauve hue. As she was sitting with her knees wide apart her flaps were slightly parted, she used her fingers to open them up even more to give me a fantastic view of it. It was like staring into a mystical world of Narnia. I could see that internally she was purple too – the shade of a ripe plum. I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

For nine long weeks I had yearned to see Sam’s pussy. At times I’d come close to seeing it, yet still it remained elusive. Sam teased me about it all the time. Yet within half-an-hour of meeting Ella, I’d seen hers in magnificent detail.

 

“Well, what do you think?” she asked casually. “Do you like it?”

 

I was so enthralled at the sight that I didn’t have the wherewithal to reply. I just stared at it, gobsmacked. Needless to say, I’d got a throbbing erection. Fortunately I’d pulled Sam’s sports bag in front of me to obscure it. There was no hiding anything from Ella though; it was like she had a sixth sense.

 

“Has looking at my nunny given you a stiffy?” she giggled, “It has, hasn’t it you naughty man!”

 

I was too embarrassed to answer. I could feel my face flushing.

 

“Let’s see it then.” she chuckled, “Don’t be shy. Move that bag out of the way.”

 

I was confident that if I’d asked Ella to come with me to a quieter part of the school grounds, remove her skirt and panties, and let me do much more than just look at her sweet little nunny, she would have done so without hesitation. It was so tempting!

Luckily before I could succumb to temptation, the girls’ parents arrived with the coffees and ice-cream. Sam’s mum passed me my coffee, Sam’s dad passed an ice-cream cornet to Ella. Fortunately neither of Sam’s parents sat down. Looking down on us from a standing position they were blissfully unaware that I could see up their daughter’s skirt and see her exposed nunny. Ella took the flake out of her ice-cream and licked it suggestively. She dipped it back in and licked it again, this time inserting the flake deep into her mouth and slowly withdrawing it to remove the ice-cream with her lips. I’d never seen an ice-cream eaten so suggestively. Ella’s parents appeared oblivious to what she was doing. All the time her nunny remained in full view, but only to me.

 

“I do love a Mr Whippy.” she purred, “I just love licking the cream off the flake.” As she spoke she inserted it deep into in her mouth again.

 

“What have you two been talking about?” Ella’s dad said, feigning interest. I still think he wanted to be somewhere else.

 

“I’ve been learning how it’s possible to go stiff just sitting down.” Ella giggled.

 

Ella’s mum shot me a suspicious look. I needed to think quickly.

 

“I was explaining that Sam will probably be stiff tomorrow after her exertions today, and the best way to avoid seizing up is to keep moving rather than sitting down.” I explained, shooting Ella an accusational glance. She nodded her appreciation of my imaginative response.

 

“I know Sam’s booked the day off work tomorrow to recover.” Sam’s mum confirmed.

 

“That’s probably for the best.” I acknowledged.

 

I made an exaggerated point of looking at my watch.

 

“It won’t be long before the first runners are back. Shall we go and watch them finish?” I suggested, keen to avoid any further embarrassing remarks from Ella.

 

I stood up, careful to keep Sam’s bag positioned in front of my bulge. Even so, I thought it best to walk behind the others. As Ella stood up she presented a tremendous view up her skirt, seemingly totally unconcerned that her panties were still pulled to the side exposing her nunny; fortunately her parents didn’t seem to notice it. As we walked towards the finish line it was evident that the wind had picked up, there was now quite a strong breeze. I hoped that Sam had remembered my advice to tuck in behind others when there was a headwind, and to get out in the open when it was behind her. Fortunately it was going to be behind them coming up the hill and in the finishing straight. This should help with her time – I hoped!

 

As I followed Ella the breeze was playing enticingly with the hem of her lightweight, pleated mini shirt. Occasionally a slightly stronger gust lifted her skirt high enough to expose the base of her cute bum cheeks. One particularly strong gust lifted her skirt right up to expose all of her bottom with just a slither of purple panties tucked between her cheeks. Ella seemed totally unfazed by her ‘Marilyn Monroe moments’ and did nothing to prevent them. Then it occurred to me, she’d still got her nunny out, if her skirt lifted up at the front anyone would see it. I quickly overtook her and walked just in front of her to give her some protection. Not, as she thought, to give me the best view of it!

 

There was already quite a crowd gathering at the finishing line. We pressed our way in among them. Fortunately, being among other people sheltered us from the wind. Confident that Ella’s skirt wouldn’t blow up to expose her nunny to all and sundry, I let her stand in front of me. Although I was still erect I doubted anyone would notice in the throng, so I put Sam’s bag down.

 

Everyone looking down the track would have missed what happened next. Ella moved back a tad, bent over slightly and rubbed her bottom against my crotch. Because I’d been gazing in the same direction as everyone else, her manoeuvre caught me completely unaware. She turned around, a broad grin on her face.

 

“I felt your stiffy against my bottom!” she giggled, fortunately only loud enough for me to hear, “If you undo your flies and get it out, I’ll hitch up my skirt so that you can slide it between my bum cheeks. That would be so kinky!” she chuckled suggestively.

 

I had no doubt that she meant it even though her parents were right next to us and we were surrounded by strangers. Not for the first time today I was struck dumb by her indecent proposal.

 

Just then there was a murmur in the crowd and someone shouted, ‘Here they come!’ Sure enough, the first runner had just entered the playing field and was coming down the finishing straight. It always amazes me that, however many competitors run in a race, there’s usually one that finishes some distance in front of everybody else. That appeared to be case here. After the first runner came into view there was quite a break before the next. We clapped and cheered the lead runner as he ran strongly towards the finish. He breasted the finishing tape in thirty-two-minutes-twenty-eight-seconds, some twenty seconds before the second-placed runner. There was a similar gap to the third and fourth placed runners. After that the gaps between runners got smaller and soon there was a steady stream of them crossing the line.

 

At thirty-seven-minutes the first woman was cheered home. And then we gave a special cheer as one of Sam’s teammates came into view, crossing the line in a very respectable thirty-nine-minutes. There was a constant stream of what I would term ‘decent club runners’ of all ages finishing now, including some I recognised as people that I used to run against that were well into their veteran status. I was keeping a keen eye on the official clock. It ticked over to forty-seven minutes, if Sam was to finish in under fifty-minutes she’d need to come into sight soon. It was taking tired runners at least two to three minutes to get from when we first saw them to when they crossed the finishing line.

 

“Here comes another of Sam’s teammates!” Sam’s dad called out excitedly, “No! It’s Sam!” he added even more animatedly.

 

I looked at the clock, it was approaching forty-eight minutes. I craned my neck to look at Sam to assess how tired she was and how she was moving. She appeared to be running quite strongly; she was certainly passing other runners. I was delighted to see that she’d moved out into the open to make the most of the tail wind. I looked back at the clock, it had rapidly moved on to forty-eight-minutes-and-thirty-seconds. The seconds seemed to be ticking over much quicker than they had been. Sam was now about two-hundred meters from the line. I saw determination on her face as she dug in deep and sprinted to the line. She must have overtaken about twenty runners in that final sprint; possibly remembering what I’d told her about team running. She crossed the line. I anxiously glanced up at the official clock. It was showing a time of forty-nine-minutes-and-seventeen-seconds. She’d done it!

 

We quickly made our way to the area where those athletes that had finished were congregating to recover and meet up with family, friends and teammates. As we did so the third member of Sam’s team crossed the finishing line. They’d got three runners home in reasonable times. When we reached Sam she was still doubled-up and breathing heavily from the exertion of her sprint finish. Her flushed face, wet with perspiration, was displaying a whole range of emotions: exhaustion, elation, euphoria, excitement, but mostly relief. When she saw us her face lit up. She hugged and kissed her mum and dad; it was great to see the pride in their faces. Then she hugged and kissed Ella. Finally she hugged and kissed me. As she embraced me she lent in close and put her mouth near my ear.

 

“Forty-nine-minutes-and-seventeen-seconds.” she whispered joyfully, “You know what that means?” she added with a giggle.

 

I didn’t need to verbalise my response, the huge grin on my face said it all! I handed Sam a bottle of water and encouraged her to drink. She drank most of it and then poured the rest over her head. Her usually immaculate blond hair was matted with sweat. I handed her a grey hoody to slip on; although the air was warm, with the amount Sam was sweating she’d soon cool off. Next I handed her jogging bottoms to her. As she struggled to put them on she must have known we could see up her shorts but she didn’t seem in the least bit concerned. It was Ella that pointed it out.

 

“You know we can all see your pink knickers Sam?” she said.

 

“Whatever.” Sam replied, unruffled.

 

Once she’d got her trackies on I gave her more water. After a few sips I took it away again and got Sam to do some of the stretching exercises that we routinely did as part of our warm-down. Sam’s breathing was almost back to normal. Satisfied that I had done as much as I could to aid Sam’s recovery, and guessing that she’d want to spend some time with her family and work colleagues, I made my excuses and went to leave them. Sam’s mum and dad thanked me again for all that I’d done for Sam. Ella said she hoped she’d been fun company and that I liked what I’d seen of her. Neither Sam nor her parents seemed at all suspicious of Ella’s comments; I think they just accepted that she had a strange way of saying things. Finally Sam gave me another hug.

 

“Does your offer of a post-race dinner still stand?” she asked.

 

“Of course, I’d be delighted to see you.” I confirmed.

 

“Great! I’ll be at yours about six. I’ve got to show you something.” she grinned, “Make sure the wine is cooled!”

I doubt there was anyone smiling more than me as I left the field.

Continued.......