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Father & daughter share a different relationship.

It was hot and both of them soon felt it, but neither was going to give up, they spoke little when changing ends and after half a dozen games Susan won back the game she had dropped. From there stalemate ensued, Harry was sweating freely, he watched the crouching intensely concentrating Susan as he prepared to serve. Susan too was soaked with effort, "You're not going to win Harry Salt," she told herself determinedly, "Just keep it in play, he'll crack"

At seven all they had been playing for almost an hour when Susan played a weak return which allowed Harry into the net. Once again he didn't put it away and Susan flogged a forehand half volley...but straight at Harry. Simple volley and he fluffed it, badly, straight into the net.

Susan turned away, a grim smile on her face, "Hmm so, he can't play the ball close to his body."

The next few games were just as drawn out as their predecessors, but Susan now had a plan, she waited, not just for a mistake, but the right mistake. At forty thirty she drew Harry to the net and instead of trying to pass him drove the ball straight at him, again he fluffed it, this time the ball ballooned out of play.

Harry noticed her triumphant smile 'My god she's so ruthless,' he thought, 'she's not going to get away with it.' Harry now knew what Susan was trying to do, and determined not to make the same mistake again. At eight seven to Susan, the next game dragged on interminably, Harry too, was adopting a more cautious approach, and that was to prove his undoing. With a little less pace on the ball Susan had a fraction more time to play her shots but it was still she who made the first error. At forty thirty she allowed Harry an easy half court volley, and for once he got it in the middle of the racket; but his own caution was his undoing, instead of putting it away firmly, it landed short and perfectly for Susan's forehand, which she stroked firmly past Harry for the point and set.

"I won, I won," squealed Susan, jumping up and down in delight

"God I hate losing," grinned Harry, as he came to the net and put his arm round her shoulder in congratulation.

Susan threw herself into the courtside seat and took a long drink from her bottle. "I could see that you do... and that makes it sooo much better."

Harry tore off his sweat soaked shirt and put his head under the tap for a few seconds.

"And now," asked Susan invitingly, and running her hand up his leg, "What does the champion get for her prize?"

That's easy," responded Harry, he leant over and kissed her, simultaneously squeezing her breast through the thin tennis dress.

"Come on then," Susan grabbed Harry's hand and took a step towards the house."

"Hey, where do you think you're going?"

"Indoors to claim my prize, come on."

"Oh no," responded Harry taking a firm grip around her waist, "Tennis trophies are always awarded on court, same rules for Hawksworth as Wimbledon."

"We can't, we can't possibly, it's broad daylight...someone might see us."

But Harry pressed his point, he moved in closer

"And anyway, I'm all hot and sweaty..."

"Just how I like you, hot and wet." Harry's hand started to tug on her panties.

"Oh Harry," Susan started to waver, she leant back against the high fence.

Then she began to respond, all concern about potential spectators vanished in a few seconds. Harry ripped the stubborn panties away and they locked in a frenzied embrace. Susan yanked Harry's shorts down, and he kicked them away.

"Now," Harry growled, "Hang on." He pushed her arms so that they were outstretched high and wide above her, her hands gripped tight around the wire mesh fence. Harry fumbled a little and then Susan felt his cock pushing between her legs. Immediately she understood what to do, she raised one leg to encourage him and then in one big effort hung on the fence for a moment while she swung her legs up and around his waist.

Crucified on the fence by Harry's cock, there was l

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