The morning after my wife’s gym class gang ban was Saturday. She was still very sore and we were both uncomfortable talking about it. She had yet to make up her mind about doing the cross-country run in just her bra, little top and school navy blue knickers. I kept thinking about it all day and needed to see her fucked by other men as soon as possible. Some Sundays we visited tennis courts in a nearby town park. This gave me an idea. I knew she was still very sore and would not really want to do it again so soon, if ever. With her long slender legs and 34D breasts, she always drew a lot of attention at the club. Her frilly white tennis panties made her pert little bottom look very pretty when she was crouching at the net. There were always men of all ages around, looking up her short white pleated tennis skirt. When I suggested Tennis, she surprised me by saying yes. My heart leapt and my prick tingled. I couldn’t wait for the morning. I popped up into the bedroom to hide her four pairs of frilly tennis panties. I hid them under some of her winter jumpers at the back of the wardrobe. She hadn’t used them this year and would think she had put them in the wrong place. When she discovered they were missing there wouldn’t be time for a search. Thinking about my made my prick very hard again. I had to masturbate. By bedtime I needed to fuck her again. We both fell asleep exhausted. She woke me up with a cup of tea. She looked exquisite in a long white satin and lace negligee, and nightdress. I could just make out the little lace fronted white satin panties underneath and covering her smooth little pussy mound. Her long golden blonde hair was pulled up in a French pleat. She looked at me with big blue eyes. My penis stirred again. We aimed to be at the tennis courts by eleven o’clock. It was just after eight. We had a light breakfast, read the papers, chatted idly about the wonderful view that we had across the country, from our large home. It was very quiet with our daughters away at boarding school. Then we tidied up and came back up into the bedroom to get showered and changed. My wife had already showered, dried her hair and smelt of perfume. She never played too vigorously, so I hoped the intoxicating aroma would not wear off. I nipped into the shower while my petite forty-year-old; slim and very pretty wife applied her makeup. When I came out of the shower, my wife was rummaging around in her chest of drawers exclaiming that she could not find her frilly white tennis panties. She was wearing only a sheer white lace and satin bra and matching high cut lace and satin panties. I was worried my prick was going to bulge out of my silk underpants. Her high cut panties were tight and sheer satin, with pretty lace around the leg openings and on the front panel. The material clung to the wide crotch space between her slim thighs. Her mound was smooth and her slit clearly delineated. Her labiaplasty had been money well spent. ‘I can’t find my tennis pants. I don’t think we’ll be able to go.’ She said in a slightly annoyed little girl voice. ‘Of course we can’ I said insistently, you can wear those.’ I grabbed my shorts quickly as I spoke because my prick was starting to throb inside my pants. If I wasn’t careful there would be a pre cum stain as well on them. ‘Don’t be silly. These are far too skimpy.’ ‘Put your tennis skirt on and I’ll tell you if they look OK.’ I said. Reluctantly, Sarah picked up the wrap around virginal white short tennis skirt on and wrapped it around her. It had vertical pleats all around it except for the flat panel that pulled across the front. Her little waist was accentuated by the skirt and she looked very sexy. ‘Turn around’ I commanded. She did as she was told. ‘Bend forward’ I said. She did as she was told. ‘Touch your toes.’ She did so. The view was electrifying. ‘Perfect. No problem. Get your top on. The little tennis shirt fitted her snugly, revealing the lacey details and outline of her white satin bra. Now your socks and tennis shoes. I could see her little hands trembling as she tied up her laces. Now lets go.’ ‘I can’t Damien. People will see everything.’ After what you let those men do on Friday night, I wouldn’t expect you to mind.’ I snapped back, trying not to sound too nasty. She blushed. It took about twenty minutes to get there. She’s rather stuck up and commented on all the gypsy vehicles that had taken over the picnic site, near the truck lay by on the road into town. I told her it was just the way of the world and she should count her self-lucky that she lived in such a fine house. We parked the car near the tennis courts and walked along a pathway into the park. There were some winos and yobs loitering just inside the gateway. ‘Fuckin’ ‘ell’ said one beer-swilling moron to his mates. ‘Look at that little cunt, luv ter give one. Cor I can see the bitch’s knickers. Can I do her with yer tennis racket?’ ‘Ere, can I ‘ave a feel of yer wife’s cunt mister.’ Said another as my wife walked primly passed. I was tempted to let him, but I wanted Sarah to look good for something better later on. There was chain link fencing all around the courts and quiet a crowd gathered to watch her play. When she crouched at the net, one of them said, ‘Look at that little bitch’s knickers, ain’t they pretty.’ ‘Pretty pussy too’ roared a young thug’ The raucous voices went on all through the match. Every time Sarah bent to pick up a ball, the men made crude and loud comments. My prick was so hard and my wife so embarrassed, neither of us could really concentrate in the highly charged sexual atmosphere. I guessed my wife was afraid of walking back past them. There were a lot of bushes and those rough men had been a very good idea of what was under her demure little pleated tennis skirt. The walk back to the car was a little nerve wracking. I have a Mercedes sports car and Sarah left nothing to their imagination of the leering jeering men who had followed us back. On the way back past the truck lay by, Sarah looked a little surprised when I pulled the car up alongside a juggernaut driver’s cab. The huge bearded fat bald headed old middle aged man looked down into our car and could not believe his eyes when he saw my pretty little blonde wife sitting in the Mercedes car. I had put the top down for the drive back. I told my wife it was to help cool us down. The dirty looking old truck driver had an excellent view of my wife’s slender white legs and most of her thighs, terribly exposed by the short stark white tennis skirt. I sat there for a few moments so that he could enjoy the view. Then, so the driver could get the message, I flipped up the front of her little skirt, exposing the satin and lace front of her tight satin panties and the inviting little smooth gap and mound between her slim thighs. My wife blushed and said ‘Oh know, my God!’ Then I pulled in front of the truck and waited.