Game, Set, and Match. Part 2
by Bronwen Welsh

Dave and Mike (playing as Michelle) are doing well in the tournament, but at the last minute it seems that their plan will crash and burn.

Part 2

The next morning I was at Jenny and Dave’s apartment bright and early to get ready. I forgot to mention that Jenny had managed to acquire a couple of breast forms for me - much more realistic than rolled up stockings, they looked and felt quite real - I discovered later that they even bounced as I jumped to hit a tennis ball! Two pairs of tight white panties made sure that I did not have any embarrassing revelations in that area. If my true sex was revealed, Dave would very likely be thrown out of the club, but if I had used the ladies’ changing rooms, that could have led to a whole heap of trouble, so I was going to get dressed at his apartment for however many sessions my competition lasted.

Jenny set about doing my make-up. I was starting to learn that a woman’s make-up must be tailored to the time of day and the situation, and in my case especially, it was important that I got it right and didn’t draw attention to myself for all the wrong reasons. Jenny applied a light foundation and just a touch of lipstick.

“You’ll get hot playing tennis.” she said, “So you don’t want mascara or eye shadow that might run. You don’t want to look like Alice Cooper do you?” and we both laughed.

“I’ll make you really glamorous for the dinner after the tournament!” she went on. I was a bit startled. I’d heard about the dinner in passing and now it seemed taken for granted that I’d be going.

Dave drove us to the tennis club. I hadn’t been there before, and I was very impressed. The clubrooms were large and modern, and there were six tennis courts, including one that had stands erected around it for this tournament. This was referred to as the ‘Centre Court’ and I sincerely hoped we wouldn’t be playing there.

With prizemoney at stake, almost every club member had entered the tournament, and this had caused the committee some problems. They extended the tournament to two weekends and had also decided that the first round would consist of matches of a single set, including a tie-break, if necessary, thus halving the contestants on the first day.

Our first match took place an hour later. Our opponents, John and Lesley looked a fit young couple, and I suspected the match wouldn’t be easy. I was right. I was getting distracted by the way my ‘breasts’ bounced despite the sports bra I was wearing. I served for the second game and lost it. It crossed my mind that if we lost, then I would be taking no further part in the tournament. Dave said nothing, but I glanced at him and there was disappointment on his face. I decided that I must give it my best shot, come what may. We fought back, and two games later we had broken back and were square again. It was a really hard match but in the end, we scraped in 7-6 after a tie-break. As we shook hands afterwards, Lesley said to me

“You played really well. You should join the club.” I smiled back and said I’d think about it. Afterwards when we were alone Dave said he thought we had blown it

“Would I ever let you down?” I replied, thinking he would never know how close I had been to throwing the match.

Dave had an hour’s rest before he had his first singles match and I thought, not for the first time that fit though he was, had he taken on too much entering three divisions of the competition. I decided I must play the part of girlfriend and went to watch and cheer him on. It was a tightly fought match, but Dave won 6-4, and afterwards I ran up to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, at which he looked slightly startled. He didn’t have much of a break before he had to play doubles with his friend Jack, and once more I was there to cheer them on. They were a bit unfortunate to get the club champion and his friend as opponents in the first round, and although they fought long and hard, they lost 6-7. Dave looked a bit disconsolate as they walked off. Now as Mike I might have said “Bad luck” or even made a joke of it, but I felt that was not really appropriate from a girlfriend, so once again I went up and gave him a hug and kiss, and told him how well he had played, reminding him there were still two divisions where he could win. I was so relieved that we’d managed to win our mixed doubles match and thought that with one less division to worry about, Dave might be more successful in the others.

I’m sure you don’t want a ball-by-ball description of the tournament, so I will just say that by the end of the second day we had reached the semi-finals of the mixed doubles (I had come to terms with my ‘breast bounce’ problem) and Dave was in the semi-finals of the singles. We sat exhausted in the apartment, Dave on the couch, legs wide apart, one over the arm of the chair. As Mike I might have done likewise but now I sat rather primly, legs together in another chair. Being Michelle was really growing on me, and I felt a certain reluctance to return to being Mike. It was all very strange.

The week went by, and we met up twice for practice, again with me as Michelle, and suddenly the weekend was upon us, and we were heading back to the tennis club.

Dave played his semi-final match first and it was quite an epic struggle. He finally won 7-6 4-6 10-8, and when he came off the court, he looked very tired. Fortunately, the first of the men’s doubles semi-final involved Brian, who together with Jean were to play us in our mixed doubles semi. This gave us nearly two hours break before we were to play.

Both men having played matches evened things up and we finally won 6-4 6-4. I confess that playing under false pretenses was weighing on my mind, even though Jean hit the ball at least as hard as I did. Suddenly we were in the finals, and I felt a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness. This meant a match on the ‘Centre Court’ with all the club watching.

Dave had one more match to play and I was glad to be just watching and cheering him on because I was feeling quite tired. Bruce was the club champion, and I don’t know whether it was a touch of over-confidence, as he had beaten Dave several times in the past, but this time Dave was playing as I’d never seen him play before. I was calling out encouragement and suddenly noticed that a rather pretty blonde girl sitting close by was also very vocal in her support for Dave. I found myself glaring at her and thinking ‘How dare she! Dave is my boyfriend. My boyfriend? What on earth was I thinking?’ I suddenly realized that I was jealous and when Dave finally walked off the court exhausted but victorious, I rushed up to him, flung my arms around his neck and hugged him enthusiastically to stake my claim on him. The funny thing was I didn’t feel like I was acting - I really meant it. Dave looked a little puzzled at this overt display of affection but played along with it.

Later, back at Dave’s apartment, I said

“I wasn’t too over-the-top with the girlfriend hugs, was I?”

Dave paused for a moment before replying

“Noooo, I don’t think so.” But there was something about the tone of voice he used. For a moment I found myself wishing I really was a girl. They seem to understand these things better than men. I wondered what Dave was really thinking.

“Well, just one more day to go.” I changed the subject. I was thinking ‘Just one more day as Michelle and then I don’t have an excuse to be her anymore.’ Somehow the thought made me sad.

That night I found it difficult to sleep, and when I did there were strange dreams which I couldn’t quite remember when I awoke but I did know that Dave was in them and that I was trying to reach him and couldn’t.

I woke at dawn, feeling exhausted - hardly the thing for someone about to play a finals tennis match. At Jenny and Dave’s apartment, after I had dressed and Jenny had checked my make-up, we were all rather subdued, thinking of the day ahead.

There was an air of excitement at the club and many people came up and wished us good luck. Ours was the first match of the finals, so at least we didn’t have to wait around too long. About fifteen minutes before it was due to start, I just knew I had to go the bathroom. I’d avoided that as much as possible during the previous days. At least there was a separate entrance, and I didn’t have to go through the female change rooms.

“Don’t be too long.” said Dave “The match starts soon.”

I promised I wouldn’t and went in through the door marked ‘Ladies’. I had only just shut the door of the cubicle when I heard two girls walk in talking excitedly.

“Disqualified?” said one.

“Of course” said the other. “They’ve been cheating and now they’re in the finals. I don’t know how they thought they’d get away with it. I overheard two of the committee talking about it and there’ll be an announcement soon.”

“How did they find out?” said the first voice, but the other girl didn’t answer. There was a moments silence and I realized they had seen the closed cubicle door and knew someone else was there.

“I’ll tell you later.” said the second girl. I waited until they left and an extra few minutes. I was shaking. After all we had been through and now at the last minute, it was all for nothing. Worse still, we would be humiliated in front of the whole club. Slowly I gathered myself together and with a trembling hand opened the cubicle door. I washed my hands and stepped out into the bright sunlight.