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Part I: The Game
“Okay, that’s it!” called Coach Johnson, announcing the end of practice, much to the relief of his tired players. “Wrap it up! Hit the showers!”
“You guys played like old ladies today!” the Coach yelled, and the team yelled in unison, as they always did at the end of each practice. It never failed to elicit a smile or grin on the face of each player, no matter how hard the Coach had pushed them during practice.
“Kevin!” growled the Coach. “Give me ten laps, then come see me after your shower. You played like shit today!”
Kevin groaned and changed direction, jogging now towards the perimeter of the high school gym, as the rest of his teammates looked over their collective shoulders at him, laughing and taunting.
Kevin knew he had been playing like shit. He didn’t need the Coach to tell him that. He just couldn’t keep his mind on his game. All he could think about, as he tossed up brick after brick, was last night, and how he had been beaten by his next door neighbor in a game of “horse”.
Kevin had been outside, shooting baskets at the hoop his father had set up for him in the backyard after hearing that he had made the high school team. It was his father’s dream, to have a son who played on the varsity team that he himself hadn’t been good enough to make.
But Kevin was more like his father than either of them would admit. Even though Kevin had been good enough to make the team, he spent most of his time on the bench. But because he was tall, and athletic, he had edged out a lot of better player at the tryouts. He was an okay shot from the free throw line, but from anywhere else, he needed a lot of practice. The point was mercilessly hammered home, when his neighbor had beaten him at hoops last night.
By the time that Kevin had finished taking his laps and dragged himself over to the showers, the rest of the team had already left. He cleaned himself up quickly, eager to not keep Coach waiting for him any longer than was necessary. He didn’t want to piss him off any more than he already had. But most of all, he didn’t want to get cut from the team. He wouldn’t be able to face his father, if he did.
A few moments later, Kevin was knocking on the frame of Coach’s open doorway. “Come in, Kevin,” Coach said, sounding concerned. “Sit down”. Kevin did as he was told and took a seat on the opposite side of his metal desk.
“I noticed you’ve been having some problems on the court lately, anything you want to talk about?” Coach asked.
“No, Coach,” Kevin answered, his head bowed, avoiding Coach’s eyes.
“Well,” Coach continued, “You really played like shit today. Either there’s something going on, or you’re just a shitty player.” He had used this speech over and over during his glorious tenure as a basketball coach of a small liberal arts community college. “And if you’re just a shitty player, than you’ve got no place on this team.” He paused to let the words sink in.
Just as he was about to speak, Kevin spoke up. “Sorry, Coach,” he blurted out. “I guess there is something.”
“What is it,” Coach asked, genuinely concerned and also glad that his little coaching trick had worked again, “Girl problems?” Eight out of ten times, when a player had a problem at this age, it was a girl. The other times, it was usually drugs or family problems. He was glad that it was a girl. If he had said “school” or “grades”, Coach knew the player was usually lying.
“Yeah, sort of,” Kevin mumbled.
“What is it, son?” Coach asked, assuming a fatherly tone.
All at once, Kevin erupted with emotion, nearly knocking Coach out of his chair. “It’s my fuckin’ neighbor,” he exploded, “She beat me at horse last night. I fucking suck as a basketball player!”
“Okay, calm down,” Coach reassured him. “What happened?”
Kevin continued. “Nothing. I was out shooting baskets in my back yard last night, when Joey – actually its Josephine, but everyone calls her Joey – she’s my neighbor, anyway, when Joey calls out from her upstairs bedroom window, that I suck. So I tell her that she couldn’t do any better and then she challenged me to a game of horse. But then she comes down, and then kicks my ass!”
Coach tried hard to suppress a laugh. “What’re you kidding me?!” he asked incredulously. “You got beat by a girl?”
“No, I’m not kidding you!” Kevin erupted again. “I fuckin’ suck! Even a fucking girl can beat me!”
“Okay, okay, calm down,” Coach said. “Let me guess, she’s good looking ain’t she?”
“Yes,” Kevin said, exasperated, “She’s fucking gorgeous. But that’s the worst part. A nice piece of ass like that shouldn’t be able to beat me! At first, I thought I’d give her a break, y’know, maybe even let her win, but when she kept sinking her baskets, I tried everything, but she totally blew me away! I totally suck. Maybe you should just cut me, already.”
“No, no,” Coach said reassuringly, “I’m not gonna cut you. At least not yet. You’ve got a lot of talent, but you just need some confidence in yourself.”
“Confidence?!” almanbahis Kevin roared. “Confidence?! I just got my ass kicked by some dumb skirt, and you want me to have confidence? Have you lost it?!”
“Listen,” Coach said sternly. His fatherly manner had quickly disappeared. Kevin was getting dangerously close to stepping over a line. “You need to reach down and gut it out. Maybe this girl’s got some talent. Maybe you were having an off night. Maybe she beat you because you were too busy staring at her ass. But you gotta take her on again. Challenge her to a game of one-on-one. Drive hard to the basket. Push her out of the way, knock her down, even. But do what you gotta do, because until you beat her, you’re never gonna shake this.”
Kevin was taken aback at Coach’s sudden ruthlessness. Knock her down? he asked himself. But then he realized that Coach was right. The fact that he was questioning Coach’s advice, meant that he probably subconsciously let her win last night.
“Okay, Coach,” he said, “I’ll try.”
“Try, nothing,” he said. “Kick her ass, or I’ll kick your ass off the team.”
“Yes, Coach,” Kevin said, standing up and leaving the room.
* * * *
Later that evening, after his homework was done, and his chores were finished, Kevin looked out of his bedroom window, and saw that the light was on in Joey’s room. How many nights had he laid in bed, jerking off as he remembered the one time when he was lucky enough to watch as Josie undressed in front of her bedroom window which she had absent-mindedly left open one night. Normally, she kept her curtain closed and tied, but that night had been unusually warm, and she had left them open, hoping to catch the occasional cooling breeze.
She really was exceptional. Even though she had a reputation for being somewhat of a tomboy, Joey’s slim athletic body was to die for. She had long, shapely legs, which were topped by a nice, firm ass and slightly rounded hips. Her waist was narrow, her stomach flat. He still remembered that she had been wearing flower-patterned cotton panties, and a matching bra. It surprised him that a tomboy would choose to wear such delicate-looking undergarments.
That night, he sat in his surreptitiously darkened room, staring at her as she undressed, trying to will her to take off each piece of clothing with his mind. Take off your bra…Take off your panties! His heart beat wildly as she obeyed his psychic instructions, reaching behind her back, and maneuvering around her long brown hair which she usually kept tied back in a ponytail. When her bra fell away, Kevin found himself staring at the most beautiful pair of breasts he had ever seen. They were a little on the small side, but they were firm and round, and topped by a perfectly centered dark circle which Kevin knew to be her areola and nipples.
He watched as she massaged her breasts, more out of discomfort than desire, although that did not stop Kevin from presuming the latter. Seconds later, Kevin was massaging his own organ as Josie slipped out of her dainty panties, exposing her light brown patch. Oh fuck! he thought, memorizing the glorious vision standing before him. Even though it was only for a fraction of a second, before she stepped away from the window, the image was burned in Kevin’s memory forever, and he recalled it often.
But not tonight. Tonight, he had other plans. He took a deep breath, grabbed his basketball, and stepped downstairs. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He stepped through the sliding glass door that opened to the back yard and began dribbling the ball. It bounced noisily against the concrete surface, announcing his presence.
Sure enough, just as Kevin had finished warming up with a few practice shots, he heard Joey calling down to him from her bedroom window. “Hey, Kevin! Haven’t you given it up, yet?! I’m surprised you’ve still got your balls!”
“What?!” Kevin called back, his ire raised, causing him to break concentration and release a brick that bounced noisily off of the rim.
“After I beat you last night, I thought you’d probably get rid of your basketballs!” she taunted.
“You didn’t beat me,” he called up to her, as he chased down his errant ball. “I let you win.”
“What?!” Joey cried out, laughing. “You didn’t let me win. I creamed you!”
Kevin’s mind raced for a retort as he shot – and made – his next basket. Before he could respond, Joey called out, “Tell me, what’s it like getting beat by a girl?!”
“I don’t know,” Kevin insisted. “You didn’t beat me.” He knew that this would draw her out for another game. What he didn’t know was that she played basketball for the private girls’ school which she attended.
“Hang on, then,” she yelled amusedly. “I’ll be down in a minute. You can tell me what it’s like in about five minutes. That’s how long it’ll take for me to kick your ass!”
“Come on down, then!” he called. He was as eager to see her firm ass and tight shorts again, as he was eager to put her in her place.
“If you almanbahis giriş insist!” she said happily, bounding away from the window.
Kevin expected Joey to appear as quickly as she did last night. Instead, she seemed to be taking her sweet old time. He didn’t know if it was his anxiousness, or if she was purposely taking her time, trying to psyche him out. Then, just as he was about to write her off as a “no show”, Joey made her way outside. She was dressed in her high school team’s varsity uniform; an oversized orange tank top, and matching baggy shorts.
“Are you kidding me?!” Kevin asked incredulously.
She laughed. “I just thought you should know what you were up against,” she smiled wryly, slapping the ball out of his hands. She dribbled the ball and ran for an easy lay up, catching the ball as it fell through the net, with a large smile on her face.
Kevin had a smile on his face, too. As surprised as he was, he was pleasantly surprised to know that she was a practiced player, and even happier to notice that Joey had not had time to put on a sports bra. Instead, she was still wearing her ordinary bra, which from the lack of support it gave her, Kevin guessed to be as delicate as the one she had unwittingly shown him earlier.
“What are you smiling at?” she asked, even though she figured it out for herself in the very next instant, when his eyes couldn’t help but dart down to sneak another peek at her chest. “Oh,” she said. “Is that what this is about?” she asked, playfully cupping her breasts in a show of defiance. “You think you can beat me because of these?”
“No,” Kevin said, confidently, now understanding why she had been able to beat him the other night. “I just know I’m going to beat the pants off of you tonight.” He extended his arms, indicating for her to pass the ball to him. She did, and he shot a quick basket from the free-throw line.
“And what makes you think you’re going to ‘beat the pants off of me’?” she challenged.
“Oh, nothing,” he replied, knowing that she was already so confident in her skills that he had to try and psyche her out. “Now that I know your secret, this’ll be a piece of cake. I was too easy on you before.”
“Easy?!” she said mockingly. “Easy?!” she repeated. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t beat the pants off of you!” she charged.
“Yeah, right,” he scoffed. He could tell that she was starting to get shaken up. She hated being challenged by guys.
“You wanna make it interesting?” she asked suggestively.
“What do you got in mind?” he asked.
“I bet I can beat the pants off of you,” she said matter-of-factly. She knew from their contest yesterday, that she was the better shooter, and nothing would make her happier than to see him standing in his underwear. To seal the deal, she crossed her arms, so that her forearms rested underneath, and innocently pushed up, her firm young tits. “Loser loses his pants.”
“Deal,” he said eagerly, walking straight into her trap. Or so she thought.
“What the game?” she asked, stretching her arms and legs, as much to get them ready for action, as to cause him a major distraction. She jogged furiously in place, knowing that it would cause her breasts to bounce.
“How about a little, one-on-one, winner takes the ball out, first one to 15 takes it all,” he offered.
She was a little intrigued. She knew that he would be stronger driving to the basket, but she also knew that he couldn’t shoot from the outside. All she had to do was stand in his way. Like most guys, he would be intimated by a pretty girl, and wouldn’t force her out of the way. She would have the advantage. “Okay,” she said, “you’re on.”
Then, she decided on the spur of the moment to up the ante. “But,” she added, “instead of winner take all, how about, loser takes it all off.” She looked at him seductively, trying to lure him into taking the bet. Most guys were too shy about their bodies to risk it, unless they had something really good to gain.
Kevin smelled a rat and looked at her suspiciously. She stuck her thumb into her waistband and pulled lightly downward, giving him just the slightest peek at the top of her white cotton panties. “Or don’t you think you’re man enough to get my panties off?” she challenged him. He quickly agreed.
“Sucker,” she chided him. “Who goes first.”
“We’ll see who sucks, and who gets sucked,” he replied awkwardly. She glowered at him. “Ladies first,” he said apologetically.
Joey accepted the ball, and looked over her shoulder at him, as she took her place at the top of the key. Did I just hear what I thought I heard? This guy’s too stupid to come up with an intelligent response. She shook her head, and checked the ball.
Kevin checked the ball back, and took up a defensive position between Joey and the basket. Joey started dribbling the ball. With her back turned to Kevin, she easily pushed him backwards as he shied away from making physical contact with her ass. This is going to be easy she thought to herself.
“You canlı bahis siteleri think you’re going to drive me backwards?” he taunted playfully. “You think you can drive to the basket?” But still, he was already unwittingly letting her have her way. He just couldn’t bring himself to be physical with her . . . . Something that she had counted on. After pushing him backwards a little more, Joey faked left and moved right, executing a perfect lay up as the ball rolled off of her fingertips and dropped into the basket.
“Your shirt, please,” she commanded, holding out her hand, palm upward.
“What?” he asked. “Strip basketball?”
“Why not?” she answered. “I figure you need some incentive. Otherwise, this looks like it will all be over too soon. I probably won’t even break a sweat.”
“Okay,” he said, huffily removing his shirt. Pausing stupidly after knowing that he had already agreed, he asked reluctantly, “How does this work. I only have two more things on, not including my shoes and socks.”
She giggled as she admired his strong chest. “Okay, I have four things on. We’ll space them out evenly. Your shorts come off when I reach ten, and your underwear comes off when I reach fifteen. And they better be clean,” she taunted. “Mine’ll come off when you reach 4, 8, 12 and then 15. Okay?”
“Okay, your ball,” he said, checking the ball back to Joey as she took her position outside the key, then quickly snapped her wrist, sending a quick three-point shot into the net.
“That’s five,” she gloated, holding out her hand, with all five fingers raised.
“Five?” Kevin complained. “What do you mean, five?”
“Five points,” she retorted. “Or don’t you know how to keep score, either. You should, after all the time you probably spend on the bench,” she laughed viciously.
“Okay, five,” he huffed. “Winner still takes it out?”
“Yeah,” Joey laughed, “but you’re not gonna win, and you’re definitely not taking anything out!” Then, for some reason, she reached out and pushed her hand against his hard chest, moving him backwards. She just couldn’t stop herself. But it was worth it, she thought to herself. Wow.
The sensation was distracting. She had never touched such a hard chest before. As a result, after Kevin checked her the ball again, she was quickly disarmed. What am I doing? she reprimanded herself. I gotta keep my mind on the game. But even then, she found herself distracted by his strong chest and back, and soon discovered that he just as easily pushed her backwards for a lay up, as she had done to him.
“That’s two for me,” Kevin said, checking the ball. “What number did you say I needed to get to before I got your shirt?” he asked. But before Joey could answer, Kevin stopped and popped an easy basket from the free throw line. He grinned at her.
Joey sneered back at him. She took off her jersey with an audible huff, and threw it at him.
“You might be able to shoot,” he said laughing and holding the jersey out, waiving it in front of her face, “but you gotta work on your defense.”
“Maybe,” she said, feigning a large sigh, and checking the ball back to him, “but you’ve just used your only two offensive moves, and I know you ain’t got nothing else to show me — including what’s underneath your shorts,” she chided, as she deftly separated him from the ball. She took the ball out to the back court, and then drove to the basket for another easy lay up.
Kevin’s mind was focused not on the ball, but on her heavenly breasts, bouncing and straining against the girlish fabric of her bra. He kept staring, in hopes that one of her tender orbs would break free of its delicate confines.
“This is going to be easier than I thought,” she reproached, “Getting a good eyeful?”
“Not as good as what I’m going to get,” he responded, breaking out of his trance and into action, as he stole the ball in the back field and swished a turn-around jumper from three-point range. “Seven up,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Half-way home”.
Kevin reclaimed the ball and tried to repeat his prior performance. It bounced off of the backboard and Joey recovered the rebound, but not before their bodies had slammed against each other in the struggle for the ball.
“Nice brick,” she said, taking the ball out, “you should have been a mason.”
“Actually, I was thinking about becoming a gardener,” he retorted, “I’m gonna enjoy looking at your bush.”
Joey was taken aback at his immature sexual reference, and in that instant, she was separated from the ball. She spun around and tried to locate the ball, but it was too late. Kevin blew past her and took the easy lay up. It was an awkward throw, and it nearly rolled off the back of the rim. But it went in.
Fuck! she thought. But she couldn’t show weakness; physical or mental. “Well, if that’s how you drive to the hole, maybe there’s no point in me getting your shorts off, after all.” She was proud of her retort. She had never been this brazen before.
They both laughed, releasing some of the competitive and sexual tension that had been building up. They were both in new territory. Each wanted to win the game, each knew how easily they could lose, and each was eager to see where their little game would lead them.
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