Balling The Boys

The school that year had the sorriest-looking bunch of football players it had ever seen. Instead of the usual crew-cut, All-American types the Alumni Association had come to expect, this year's crop was a dirty, long-haired, unshaven bunch of freaks, whose main interest was in smoking dope. I mean, most of them didn't even want to chase women!

I made the team because of my favors bestowed on the coach, against the outcry of some of the better-equipped, more talented members of last year's squad. The coach didn't want to know anything, he was just glad to be getting some pussy from somewhere.

"And, besides." he had told the Alumni Association at their annual Cocktail Party, "it'll be good for the morale of the boys, give 'em something to really work for, Ha-ha." This hadn't brought much of a laugh from the AA., but they did agree on his point that it would bring publicity and notoriety to the school, if nothing else.

On the opening day of the season, I was stationed quite securely on the bench, where I stayed for most of the game. Near the end of the first half, with our team ahead, 7-0, Coach McGee sent me in to bring in a play. I got to the huddle, to the surprise of the opposing team and they just watched in amazement as I ran over to my position at halfback for the play.

The ball was hiked to the quarterback, who handed it off to me. I saw an opening and ran into the line. All eleven players on the opposing team tackled me and as I lay underneath the scramble of bodies, I could feel hands, clutching me, grabbing me, tearing my uniform off. By the time the referees got everyone off of me, I had almost been raped. I walked slowly to the sidelines, wearing the tattered remnants of what had once been my uniform. I felt a little embarrassed, because nothing like this had ever come anywhere near happening to anyone else in the history of the league. I had the feeling that they all would have tackled me even if I hadn't been carrying the ball.

In the fourth quarter, with our team behind, 17 - 14, our quarterback threw a long pass that was caught at the five-yard line of the other team. There were only two minutes remaining and Coach McGee called a timeout.

"Now listen," he said, "this is what I want you to do. Charles, you fake a handoff to Ann here and Ann, you run around the left end. I want you to draw the opposing players away from the right side, so Charles can go in with the touchdown. Okay? Everybody got it?"

Everybody nodded agreement, but I had the feeling that I was really in for it now.

The team got down into the ready position and the ball was snapped. I ran over and pretended that I had the ball. Immediately the entire team began running after me. The quarterback, Charles, could have walked into the end zone if he had wanted to, but he ran right in for the touchdown. The referee blew the whistle and put his arms up to indicate the score, but the team didn't stop chasing me. I looked at them as if to say. You can stop coming now, the play is over, but they weren't interested in the game any longer. I ran the full length of the field, one hundred yards, into the locker room and slammed the door shut and locked behind me. I sat down, gasping for air and wondered whether or not the other team should have some women on it, too.

Well, within a few minutes, the team came in and told me that we had won the game. They all cheered for me and awarded me the game ball. But I wasn't sure that I was going to play any more football after that. It didn't seem as if there were too many men playing the sport. It seemed as if they had monsters, sex fiends on the field.

That night the school had a dance. Everyone cheered when I was announced as the hero, or the heroine of the game and everybody on the team patted me on the back. A few of them even were so friendly as to pat me on the ass.

I thought very seriously that night about giving up football as a sport, for it seemed as if I would be taking my life into my hands on every play. I had a long talk with the coach about it and he succeeded in convincing me that my fears were baseless. After all, he said, not every team was as hard-up for a victory as the one we had played today and I said yeah, literally.

The next Saturday afternoon we played in the stadium of another school and I had the feeling that all was not well with the local fans. Everyone in the league had been talking about me and every team had agreed that losing to us would be equivalent to losing to a team full of girls. They all seemed to make special efforts to beat us and it always caused them to make extra mistakes in losing to us.

And it seemed as if this afternoon would be no exception. The only difference was that this team seemed like a bunch of bloodthirsty pirates and their fans seemed like they were ready to kill anyone the team left alive.

On the first play from scrimmage, the quarterback from our team tossed a sort pass to one of our ends, which he dropped. He was immediately tackled by three of the opposing players, in a bone-crunching tackle that even I felt.

On numerous occasions that afternoon, I thought that we were watching a re-enactment of Custer's Last Stand, rather than a football game. It didn't seem to make sense, the incredible way this team was going out of its way to destroy us. I never even got into the game until the very end, because the coach was afraid that they would tear me apart and that he wouldn't have any more pussy left to get.

Near the end of the game, with our team leading, 24-12, he sent me in to give our star halfback a rest. He had played a tremendous game and I had promised him at halftime that I would turn him onto a little snatch that night. That had really picked him up and in the second half he was magnificent. He scored two touchdowns and rushed for one hundred and fifty yards, inspired by the fucking he was going to get from me that night.

I went into the game and as soon as I had stepped onto the field, a giant roar went up from the stands. "Kill the bitch!" they were shouting and I could feel the evil stares coming my way from everyone not connected with our team. I was almost afraid to win the game, afraid that we would never get out of the stadium alive if we had.

I was not even supposed to carry the ball on this particular play, but as soon as the ball was snapped, the entire team covered me. They were all over me and they weren't horny. They were actually trying to hurt me. They tackled me and the referees blew the whistles. They thought I had the ball, the way everyone was all over me. When they realized their mistake, they waved the runner with the ball on and he went on to score another touchdown. In the meantime, our team was trying to get the other team off of me and this started a big fight. The referees eventually had to end the game right there and hustle us off the field, before the entire crowd murdered us.

That night when we got back to the dormitory, the young halfback, whose place I had taken in the game, came up to my room. He was quite surprised to discover Coach McGee on his way out and he stood there watching him walk away. He gave me a what-gives look and I shrugged. I told him that he wanted to congratulate me privately for the terrific job I had done and I invited him in.

The young fellow, whose name was Harry, immediately lit up some joints. We started smoking and before long, we were so high that the only thing we could do was to sit and laugh at each other. We didn't even want to fuck, that was how high we were. I told him to come back another night, without any grass and we would try again. I watched him walk down the hall and then fall down the entire length of the stairs. I ran down to see if he was all right and he got up slowly, painfully, as if he had needed to fall down the stairs after the game we had played that day and he dusted himself off. He said he was all right and I began to laugh at him. I watched him walk off and I went back upstairs.

At the next day's football practice, I approached the coach in private.

"Coach," I asked him, "Do you think .that maybe I should get out of this sport? Maybe try something less dangerous, like basketball?"

He looked at me as if I had some nerve, talking about quitting like that. After all, he said, a quitter never wins and a winner never quits. I really felt like telling him, look, a winner never has to put up with all the black and blue marks that I'm going to have at the end of the season, either.

But Coach McGee was determined not to let me go. "You have helped this team immensely, young lady," he said. "You have provided an ego boost for a team that would otherwise have lost every single game it has played this season. The Alumni Association is praising me as a genius, for this brilliant move."

I looked at him sympathetically. "And besides," I said, "You're getting some pretty good pussy."

He looked at me and put his head down, with a wide grin, as if to say, "Aw, shucks."

Well, I continued to play for the rest of the season. We ended up losing only one game all year, an exhibition game we played for charity. It was against a girl's team.

By this time I was pretty far behind in my studies. I had been doing so much football practicing and playing, so much partying, so much fucking and so much dope-smoking, that I had completely forgotten about school. It almost seemed to come as an afterthought. So now I decided that, since schoolwork had never been that difficult, I would do some.

Suddenly, though, the basketball season, was upon us. I had always loved basketball and I was determined to play it. I wondered what the coach would be like and whether or not he would be as liberal as old Coach McGee.

On the afternoon that the tryouts were to be held, I went over to the gym early, to see if I could have the first words with him. When I arrived, I looked around for him, but I could see only a very tall, handsome young guy, whom, I assumed, was also trying out for the team.

I went over to him and asked if the coach would be around soon.

He looked at me with a smile and informed me that he was the coach.

I could not believe it. I mean, he was so young and so handsome. I had gotten accustomed to the old type of coach. I had never expected to see one who looked more like one of the players.

"What's your name?" he asked me.

I was too much in love with him to speak. "Um, um, uh ... " My voice trailed off.

He knew that he was making an instant hit with me. He gazed up and down my ripe young body and he decided that he would have to save me for a separate tryout.

When I finally got around to introducing myself and telling him why I had been looking for him, as if he didn't already know, he smiled and shook my hand. "Now I want you to know," he said firmly, "that anyone who plays for this team will be in top physical condition. Any person on this team will have to be able to withstand the torturous agony of a full forty-minute game without a complaint. It will demand a lot of your young body," he said slyly.

He was extraordinarily handsome. The way he was talking to me and looking at me, was making me cream in my pants. I wanted very badly to fuck him, right here and now, in the gym, but I thought better of it. I decided to wait, to let things come as they may, if you will.

He told me that he would have to arrange a special tryout for me that evening. He told me to meet him outside of the gym at eight o'clock and that he would pick me up in his car. I thanked him very much for the opportunity and told him that if there was anything that I could do for him, he shouldn't hesitate to ask. He smiled and said that he wouldn't.

Well, I went home and lay down on my bed. I began to think about him, how he must have had a long, slender prick and I was wondering how it would feel sliding in and out of my warm, horny pussy. I was creaming, as I lay there thinking about him and I decided that it would be a lot better to go around cleaning the place up and doing whatever had to be done, rather than sitting around getting horny and ending up finger- fucking myself.

I did a little homework, which was a strange feeling indeed. After I had done about all that I could stand, which was about ten minutes' worth, I began to straighten out the room. After that was finished, I sat around, smoked a joint that one of the other people in the dorm had left for me and I fell asleep.

When I woke up, it was dark outside. I looked at the alarm clock. Eight o'clock, I said, oh, shit, I'm late. I scrambled about the apartment, throwing my clothes on as quickly as I could and I ran over to the gym.

He was standing calmly: in front of his car.

"I'm really sorry I'm late," I told him, "but I fell asleep. I forgot about the time."

"One thing about trying to make a team," he said, "is that you never keep the coach waiting." He smiled and I got into the car.

We drove, fast and furious, along the darkened roads outside of the campus. I didn't know where he was taking me, but I had the feeling that everything was going to be all right, that I was going to have a good time tonight.

We were driving for about fifteen minutes, during which we must have gone thirty miles. He stopped in front of a tall building with a bar on the bottom floor. We got out of the car and he led the way for me into the bar.

It was a small, quiet bar, not the kind I had become used to from the kids at school, but more of an executive-type lounge. I felt a little unpleasant in the surroundings, but he soon made me feel quite at ease.

We were sitting in a comfortable, cozy, dark little corner, listening to the music. He told me that the bar belonged to a friend of his who was a professional ballplayer. He seemed to have a lot of friends and contacts, a real man-of-the-world.

He began rubbing his leg gently against mine, almost as if he weren't doing it on purpose. I was enjoying the feeling, though and I didn't want him to stop. To encourage him, I reached under the table and took hold of his prick through his pants. I rubbed it and felt it starting to swell.

"You've got good hands, definitely an asset for any ballplayer," he remarked casually.

This caused me to break up and I sat there laughing at what he had said for about two minutes. I realized that the tryout had begun.

I was sitting there getting pretty drunk and before long, I was impatient with the surroundings. I wanted to go home with him and fuck him. I wanted to feel the warmth of his hot body and to feel his long shaft tenderly massaging the cavern of my pussy's desire.

"Let's go," I told him.

"What's the matter, aren't you having a good time?" he asked in a puzzled way.

"I'm having a great time, but I want to have an even better one. C'mon, let's go home. I want to suck you off."

He got the message now and he called the waiter over. He paid the bill, which didn't amount to much, since we had only been there for about half an hour and we got up to leave.

When we stood, I could see his huge hard-on bulging through his pants and he suddenly became aware of the fact that it was showing. He became, a little embarrassed and self-conscious about it and we walked quickly out of the door. He walked with his head down, behind me and I had a smile of glee all the way.

When we reached his car, I, took his hand. He looked at me and I asked him, "How am I doing, Coach?"

He looked at me and smiled. "You're doing pretty good so far. I think I may be able to use you."

I smiled, but it occurred to me that this wasn't really a basketball tryout at all. I mean, even if I could play good enough to be on the team, he most certainly couldn't find out this way. And if I couldn't play well enough, there was no way he was going to be able to put me on the team and get away with it.

I was sitting in the car, wondering what I was going to do about the situation, when he pulled over into a clearing alongside the road. "Here," he said.

"Here what?" I said.

He looked at me rather self-consciously. "Let's go, do whatever you're going to do."

I wasn't sure what he wanted me to do. I figured that the best thing to do would be to find out what the whole story was.

"Why don't we go to your apartment, or something?" I asked him.

He looked at me nervously. "I'm married," he said. "Don't you know that?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, laughing. "I didn't realize that. Well what about the dormitory?"

"Are you kidding?" he answered. "How could I ever be seen going into the women's dormitory with one of the students? Especially at this hour? Shit, they'd have my job.

"Yeah, you're right," I said. I decided to make him level with me. "Look," I said, "am I going to play on the team or not? I mean, you don't even know whether I can dribble a basketball or not."

"Look," he said, "I don't even care if you can dribble a ball or not. All I know is that you can do for the basketball team what you've done for the football team. Believe me, they never had one-quarter of the fans that they had until you showed up. And just your presence on the bench seemed to inspire them to play better than they ever have."

He looked down, as if he were ashamed to say what followed. "And besides, the Alumni Association was really pleased with their showing. They decided that if that miserable football team that we have had for the past few years can do something like that, all of the school's teams can. They told me that I'd better produce a winner this year, or else I won't be back next year."

I always was a soft touch for a hard-luck story, so I agreed to help him out. I knew that it wasn't going to benefit me as much as making the team on my own would, but I figured that it would nevertheless be better than nothing.

He looked at me. "Well," he said, "do you know how to dribble?"

I decided to show him. "Of course," I said, unzipping his pants. I took his long slender cock out and pursed my lips. I proceeded to suck gently on it, tickling it with my tongue and lips, so that he squirmed in the driver's seat. I sucked him for a long time, but soon I could feel him shivering. He was about to come, I knew, but when he did, I wanted it to be in me.

I stopped sucking on his dick and I looked up at him. He was sitting there with his eyes closed, waiting and he suddenly realized that I had stopped for a reason. He looked at me quizzically and said, "What's the matter?"

"I want to fuck!" I said and the two of us laughed.

We sat there for a moment, wondering what we were going to do about it. I was thinking about a hotel, or something, but I didn't know of any near there. And besides, I thought, that would take too much time to get to, even the way he would drive. There must be a better way, I thought.

Of course! The back seat.

"C'mon, let's fuck in the back seat," I said happily.

He had been so dumbstruck by the blow job he had been getting that he had completely forgotten about the fact that he had a back seat available in which to fuck.

We got out of the car and got into the back. As soon as we were back there, he began pulling my clothes off of me. He was pulling my pants down hungrily and looking at my youthful, nude body lustily. He pushed my blouse and my bra up over my breasts, so that the only areas of my body that were covered were my shoulders and my ankles. Then he forced his finger deep into my slot, kneading and massaging my hole with deep passion.

It felt good, the way he was taking me by force. It almost felt as if he were raping me and I almost wanted him to. Before long, after he had been finger-fucking me for a while, I felt the desire and passion of the moment overtaking me. I felt the urge to throw my legs wide open to the world. I wanted to be fucked by everybody, the horny little nymph that I was rapidly becoming.

Now he was ready. He unbuckled his pants and unzipped them and slipped them down around his knees. I put my legs up onto the seat and he was ready to dive in.

"Wait a minute, will you?" I said. I was having all I could do to keep him off me. I wanted to fuck him, but shit, give me a chance. I reached down and pulled my pants off my ankles, over both of them. As I did this, my legs spread open wide and he got a good view of my damp, stringy pubic hair and my red, wet slot, inviting him in. He waited very impatiently while I slipped the pants off and then he was on top of me. He had his prick in his hand, ready and eager to fuck me. I took it out of his hand, because I wanted to do the honors at my leisure. He seemed to enjoy the feeling of my hand on his dick and he relaxed for awhile.

I rubbed my clitoris with the head of his prick. This set off a feeling in him that caused him to cream madly. I could feel the warm, wet fluid, seeping slowly out from the head of it and dripping down onto my clit. This, in turn, also caused me to cream and before long, the two of us had enough water between us to fill the car's radiator. I decided that I could not hold out any longer and I set the head of his dick directly into the opening of the lips of my slot.

He pushed deeply and his cock slid easily in. It was not in far enough for me, though and I slid further down underneath him, so that he could slide it in more deeply. This he did and soon the two of us were pumping furiously together. I would imagine that if you could have seen the outside of the car, it would be rocking up and down like a cradle.

We were lying there fucking, fucking, fucking and soon he whispered in my ear, "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna COME!" I realized then that I had better get moving, or I would be left behind.

Suddenly, I felt his gism, shooting inside of me and filling me up. I could feel it pouring into my body and the warmth of it triggered a reaction in me, too. As he was coming, he kept pumping and telling me how much he loved my pussy. As his gism was pouring into me, filling me up, ray pussy tingled and then I, too, felt that beautiful sensation. I came in spasms, the muscles of my vagina contracting and clutching his cock tight.

As we both lay there in the wet, messy back seat, I had the feeling that it was a bigger mess than we imagined. He got up from me, withdrawing his cock and the gism came pouring out of my pussy. It flowed freely and leaked out all over onto the seat of the car. He was ready to have a fit and he took out his handkerchief to try and clean it all up.

"My wife will kill me if she sees this," he said frantically. I was just lying there laughing hysterically and he was cursing at me under his breath.

"Stop laughing and get up," he was saying. "You're leaking all over the place!" This only made me laugh harder and it was a full ten minutes before I had composed myself and the pain in my stomach had subsided. I got up and the thick gism leaked down my legs.

I went into my handbag and got a tissue and wiped myself off. I looked at the harried expression on his face and I laughed a little every time I thought of what he had said. I was having myself the time of my life, at his expense and he knew it, too. But then I felt sorry for him and I stopped laughing. We got ourselves settled in the car and he drove off toward the school.

"Well, what are we going to do?" I asked him.

"About what?" he replied.

"About the team," I said.

"Oh, yeah, I'm a little absent-minded," he said, as if I didn't know. "Well, come down to the practice tomorrow in the gym. Bring your sneakers and your gym shorts and everything and I'll let you try out with the rest of the guys. We have to make it look good, you know, but don't worry about anything, you've made the team."

I knew that it was better than nothing, but I couldn't help feeling that I would have to make a much better showing than I had on the football team. I wanted to, just to prove to myself and to everyone else that I could do it on my own.

The next afternoon, I showed up at the gym for the tryout. There were about forty guys there and when they saw me, some of them began whispering to each other and some of them actually laughed. They didn't even know that it was I who would be laughing at them.

The first ten guys to try out played against each other. They were a whole lot better than I had imagined they would be and I knew now that if it hadn't been for the high-level plot that the coach had devised, I never would have made the team on my own. I figured that I was better off taking charity than nothing.

The first two teams played each other for about twenty minutes and then he had them sit down, while the second group of ten played. I looked over at him on the bench. He gave me a don't-worry-your-turn-is-coming look and I relaxed on the bench.

At the end of about fifteen minutes, I realized that it was almost time for me to get out there and show them what I could do. Suddenly, I became very nervous, because I knew that there was going to be very little that I could do with these guys. I was going to make a complete fool out of myself, even though I was already assured of a spot on the team.

He called time-out and told them to sit down. He motioned to the next ten players to get out on the floor. This included me and I felt very bad when I stood up. I wanted to go and hide and I was sorry that I had ever gotten myself into the thing. But it was too late to worry about it now. All that remained to do was to go out there and do the best that I possibly could.

Once we started playing, my nervousness instantly disappeared. The other players were determined not to give me the ball. Me or anyone else. Just like any tryout for any sport, everyone was out there to show the coach what he could do, so I didn't have to worry about getting the ball. We played for about fifteen minutes, during which I touched the ball three times. Twice, I knocked it out of bounds and once I dribbled it into the hands of one of the opponents. Everyone knew for sure that there was no way I was ever going to make this team.

Well, the joke ended up on all of them, of course. I became the twelfth man, or rather, the twelfth woman, or rather, the first woman ... Well anyway, I was the last player on the team. I figured that I wouldn't really see too much action that season, since the rest of the team was pretty good. I would probably be one of the benchwarmers, almost like a cheerleader.

At the end of the tryouts, as Coach Russell gave us a "locker room" chat, to brief us and tell us what would be expected of us, I scanned the room. We had what I would consider to be the most gorgeous bunch of basketball players I had ever seen. I had every intention of taking each and every one of them to bed with me, perhaps more than one at a time.

It was pretty obvious that they had all discovered me, too. All the while that the coach was addressing us, they were ignoring him. They were all looking at me. This made me a little self-conscious and when he discovered it, he became a little annoyed. He said, "Now look, I know that the team is a little different this year, but that doesn't mean that the discipline and training is going to be any different. You're all going to have to work as hard as ever if you want to play for me."

They all seemed to get the message right away. They started paying a attention to him when he was speaking, but every so often one or more of them would take a quick look at me. They seemed more interested in my blonde hair and blue eyes than they did in making the starting team. And why not?

Our practice sessions were a lot of fun. On the first day, they had to find somewhere for me to change clothes, I knew, but I didn't think of it until I was already in the locker room getting changed. When the boys started coming in, they realized that I was in there, so they stopped short. This resulted in having me in the locker room getting dressed, while the other eleven had to find somewhere else to change into their uniforms. From then on, the coach always found an empty room somewhere else, that I could use without disrupting the normal procedure.

We would have our practice sessions in the gym before many spectators, most of whom had never seen a basketball game in their lives. It was just something new for them, to be seeing a woman playing against men. A lot of them thought that it was a goof and they used to laugh at whatever was going on. Pretty stoned, I guess.

Whenever I would be on the floor, the guys on the team used to do one of two things. They would either try to be extra careful, so that they wouldn't hurt me, or they would be brushing against me accidently, rubbing their arms and hands against my legs, or my breasts, or my ass. I knew that they were doing it accidently on purpose, but what could I say? It wasn't really blatant, so that I could actually accuse one of them of doing it, but nevertheless, it was happening. It got to be an annoyance, but I overlooked it.

One time, I remember, we were playing a game against some big school, I forget who it was. They put me in the game toward the end, because we were killing them. Everybody was howling-in the gym, like wolves, because I was in the game. It was at the other team's gym and they were trying to get me nervous, more than anything else.

Anyway, I got the ball with about half a minute left in the game. They all told me to go ahead and take a shot, so I figured what the hell and I decided to try it. I dribbled the ball up court and I was about to try for a layup, when one of the opposing players jumped up with me to try and stop my shot. I'm sure that he didn't do it on purpose, but when he jumped, his hand somehow got caught on my gym shorts and he pulled them right down. Completely, down below my knees. My panties, too.

Well, you can believe me when I say that I was embarrassed. The referees, the other players, everybody on the floor was pretty embarrassed and nobody really knew what to do. The referees blew their whistles and called time out and stood their looking at me while I was struggling to get everything put back together correctly.

In the meantime, the entire gym was roaring with laughter. They couldn't believe what they had seen. I mean, this had never even happened to a man on a basketball court, never mind a woman. I had set basketball history right there in that gym that day.

We usually had a lot of fun, though. We used to win a lot of games and we were in the running for the league championship. Everybody had written us off as a gimmick, with no chance of winning anything, but I guess I changed all of that. Not necessarily through my play on the court, but due to my favors bestowed upon the coach and his players. I was rapidly becoming known as the "player's player."

The captain of the team was named Johnny. He was tall and handsome. He had long, jet-black hair and he was one of the most beautiful creatures I had ever seen in this world. He had a magnificent body, too and on several occasions, on the bench, or at team meetings, I would turn and see him staring at me and he would have a big bulge in his uniform shorts. He would be smiling at me and I figured that I should go over and get to know him, because I thought that maybe he was a little shy.

One day, after a practice, he came over to me and asked me if I would like to go and have some lunch with him. I was really hungry and almost as horny and I agreed.

We went to the cafeteria on the school grounds, which wasn't the best place in the area to eat. One whiff of the food within made Johnny decide that we had to have a little class that day. So we went out to the parking lot and he got his car and we drove to the town, to have a decent meal.

I was becoming the type of person who would easily attract a lot of attention. If not by my appearance, or the fact that I was usually somewhere that I wasn't supposed to be, like basketball courts and football fields, then it was by my actions. Lately I had been causing a disturbance almost everywhere I would go. Either someone would recognize me from the school teams, or I and whoever I would be with would just begin to cause a fuss, usually over nothing.

We would do that not for any special reason, but just to have some fun. And on this particular afternoon, we decided that we wanted to have some fun.

As we were driving to the town, Johnny lit up a joint and handed it to me. "This is really good stuff," he said and then he began to cough a lot. I smoked some of it and soon I began to cough a lot, too.

We were both sitting in the car, smoking and coughing and smoking and coughing and smoking and coughing. I was surprised that he was able to keep control of the wheel of the car, he was coughing so hard.

By the time we reached the town, we were both unbelievably stoned. Not so much from the grass, but because we had been coughing so much. Our eyes looked like four big STOP signs, they were so red. We got out of the car and staggered blindly into the small restaurant.

Well, as soon as we were in the place, we started laughing. There were a whole lot of middle-aged, conservative-looking people in there and we just knew that we were going to have a lot of fun with them. The waitress showed us to a table and she kept eyeing us suspiciously, as if she was trying to determine what it was that we were on.

We were sitting at the table, carrying on and talking and laughing very loudly. Everyone in the place got very quiet, as though they were all embarrassed. We began to make fun of them and soon, people were getting up and leaving and telling the manager that they would never be back. We thought the whole thing was a goof, because they were all so stuck up and stuffy, they needed something like this to bring them out of it.

When we finished eating, we got up and staggered out of the place, amidst the evil stares of the manager, the cooks, the waitresses, the cashiers, everyone. Everyone in the place was glad to see us gone.

We got in his car and headed back to the school. It was a beautiful, sunny day, not the kind for being in school. It was about seventy degrees and that was amazing, considering that it was winter. I didn't want to go back and I told him so.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked.

"I don't care, anywhere, as long as it's not back to school," I said.

He seemed to light up, as if a bright, but evil, idea, had come up in his mind. "Let's go for a ride," he said and I could see that he had amorous advances on his mind. That was fine with me. I was very high and now my stomach was satisfied, also. My snatch was the only thing left undone.

We drove for about a half-hour. We were viewing some really incredible scenery and I was almost disappointed when we stopped.

"Let's go over there," he said, pointing to a cliff, overlooking a huge valley. We got out of the car and walked over that way.

When we reached it, we knelt down on the ground. I was totally lost in the beauty of the surroundings and I really didn't want to do anything but float away with the beautiful breeze.

He reached up and put his arm around my shoulder. I wanted him, but I figured that I would have a little fun with him, first. I stood up and ran away from, shouting over my shoulder to him, "Catch me! Catch me!"

He was kneeling there, looking at me like I was stupid or something. He was probably thinking, I thought I was going to get laid and here she is playing some stupid old games. He looked disgusted, but he got up and started chasing me.

It was then that I discovered that I was in better shape than I thought I had been in. I was able to run all around that mountain and I kept running without ever getting tired. I made him chase me for about fifteen minutes and finally, when I saw that he was gasping for air and that he wasn't all that fast, I slowed down and sat by a rock.

He came staggering up to me and literally collapsed in a heap next to me. I laughed so loud and long at him that he looked up at me with contempt. It was about half a minute before he could catch enough breath to yell "Shut up!" at me. This only started making me laugh some more and before long he realized the futility of his situation. He had no choice but to sit there and laugh right along with me. But he still wasn't in good enough shape to laugh, yet, so the best that he could do was to smile.

We sat there for awhile, catching our breaths. I listened to the birds singing and I marveled at this most beautiful of days. It wouldn't be long now, I thought, until the outdoor track season and I decided that that would be the next sport I would try cut for.

I looked over at Johnny, who had been sitting there quietly. He looked over at me. I smiled and I contemplated getting up and running away from him again. But he must have read my mind, because he grabbed me around my waist, pinning my arms in tight and shouting "I gotcha!" I laughed and struggled to get free from him, but it was no use. I gave up the struggle and I lay there on the ground, underneath him.

He kissed me passionately, moving his tongue gently around inside of my mouth. It made my head spin and I felt dizzy beneath his gentle touch. I could feel my pussy beginning to tingle and he rubbed his legs languidly in between mine.

I felt a deep stirring and my thighs thrust out firmly to allow him to massage them better. We were grinding fiercely now and I was being turned on by the fact that he was still holding my arms. I was having all kinds of rape fantasies, but none of them could match the real-live one that was taking place. For indeed, it was technically rape.

We both opened our eyes at almost the same moment. He smiled that handsome smile at me and let go of me. I almost wanted to tell him to go ahead and rape me if he wanted, but I decided to just let nature take its course.

He undid the buttons of my blouse slowly and his eyes never left the widening space between my breasts. When he got to where my bra was resting, he slipped his fingers in under it. It was on pretty tight, but he managed to get his fingers onto my nipples and he kneaded them gently. I could not really believe that a man could be as gentle as he was. He massaged the nipples and I stretched with passion, pushing my breasts further up into his face. I wanted him to take off the rest of my clothes and fuck me in any way that he pleased.

He undid the rest of my blouse and opened it wide. He gazed down at my naked stomach and reached down to kiss it. He licked it for a few moments with his tongue and then I felt him undoing the buckle of my pants. I felt good and I wasn't watching anything that he was doing. I was just resting, with my eyes looking up at the beautiful blue sky. I wanted him to do whatever he wished with my body, to take it and use it at his desire.

He pulled down the zipper of my pants and pulled them down slightly. He pulled down my panties a little bit, so that just the top of my pubic hair was showing. I assumed that he wanted to take his pleasure slowly, to make it last as long as possible. He kissed my stomach and pulled the panties down ever so slightly more. I was becoming very hot. It was quite obvious to me that Johnny really knew what he was doing.

Now I guess he couldn't wait too long, because he reached under me and grabbed the pants and the underpants, and pushing my ass up with his wrists, he pulled them gently down around my knees and then my ankles. My golden body gleamed in the sunlight and the last thing that I saw Johnny do was bend his head slowly toward the gap between my legs. After that, I just lay back to enjoy the feeling.

He caressed the hair around my pussy and pushed it back. He parted my lips and gazed longingly at my hole, which, I'm sure, was gazing longingly back. I had been creaming and he bent down to drink in the sweet juice flowing forth from in between my legs.

I felt his warm, wet tongue flicking in and out of my pussy. Ooh, it felt so good. It made me squirm in delight and he had a hard time holding my legs down. I pushed them up and held his head tightly in between my knees. He moved in deeper and stuck his head in as far as it could go. His tongue was a delicious warm sensation, licking at my insides. It must have been a pretty long one, too, for I could feel it all the way up inside of me. He was licking me and once he sucked deeply, pulling my insides slightly out toward his mouth. This was a sensation I could really not get over, as if his tongue was actually fucking me.

I decided that I had had enough. I couldn't stand any more of this delicious torture and I lifted his head with my hands. I pulled him up close to me and he lay there on top of me, kissing me and stroking my body.

Lying there with my pants down around my ankles and him fully clothed, made me feel very obscene and I liked the feeling. I began to undo the belt he was wearing and unzipped his pants quickly. I was hot and I really couldn't hold out without his dick much longer. I slipped his pants down around his ankles and spread my legs open wide. He dropped neatly down in between them and I took his long, hard prick in my hands.

I rubbed it gently on my clit and both of us creamed together. I placed the head of it in the opening of my pussy and he responded by pushing it gently in. He drew it back slightly and pushed in once again. This time, it slid gently, almost completely in. One more stroke would do it and he obliged. It was fully in now and he began fucking me the way I hadn't been fucked in quite a long time.

His long, hard cock was easing its way smoothly in and out of me. I felt the long, slender shaft, making its way in and out and after a while, I was ready to scream. It had me deliriously giddy and I had all that I could do to keep from screaming in ecstasy. He was fucking me oh, so good and I wanted it more than any other dick I had ever had.

Now I knew that I was going to come. I lifted my legs high, as high up around him as I could. The two of us were pumping furiously together and I could feel that our climaxes would be timed perfectly. I began to feel dizzy and I started to float off into outer space, as the first spasm took hold of me. I was coming and my snatch was squeezing and massaging his cock with a fury.

I looked at him and he too was ready to come. He had closed his eyes and his face had the pained expression of ecstasy on it. The kneading, squeezing action of my tight pussy triggered his orgasm and I could feel what seemed like flood gates bursting. The first load of his come shot smoothly into the cavity of my stomach and I could feel the hot, thick fluid oozing out of his rock hard prick. He came in several long spurts and they finally eased down to the last few and we lay there in each other’s arms, exhausted, but fully satisfied.

We looked at each other, neither of us wanting to get up, or to move, or to even say anything. Finally he got up onto his knees and looked down at my obscenely naked, sweating body. I brought one leg up and the pose I assumed seemed to excite him all over again. He began to lie back down on top of me and as much as I wanted Mm to, I held him off. He smiled and we both stood up. I felt the remaining gism seeping down my legs onto my thighs and rather than feeling messy, it made me feel even hotter again.

When we got to the car, I reached into my bag and got out some tissues. I wiped myself off and gave him a few to clean himself off. But then I had a better idea.

I sat him down in the front seat of his car and I knelt down on the ground, by the open front door. I took his prick out of his pants again and I began to squeeze it and massage it with my fingers. It began to grow again and that was exactly what I wanted. I put my lips down onto it and I licked it clean of whatever fluid had remained on it.

Then I began to suck him off. By this time he had a full-blooded hard-on again and I sucked him vigorously. It didn't take long for his horny young cock to get to where I wanted it to go. I looked up at his face and he once again had the serene look of a heaven-bound angel. His cock burst in another shower of semen, in my mouth and I sucked up every last bit of it. I really milked him dry. After that, he didn't look like he wanted to do anything else.

I was left with this young, handsome guy, who looked like he was on his way to dreamland. I asked him if he wanted me to drive back to the school and he nodded yes as he nodded off to sleep. I took the car keys out of his pocket and I went around to the other side of the car.

His family, he had told me, was rich and he had one of those expensive foreign cars. It took me a while to figure out how to drive the thing, but I eventually got it started and off. He was sleeping, as men usually are right after you fuck them, but I was wide awake. As long as he didn't want to have any fun, I decided that I would.

I got the car turned around and headed back toward the school. I wasn't the type of person who liked to move slowly then and a few years of age hasn't slowed me down now, either. By the time we had been moving for a minute, I had the car up to sixty and I had every intention of moving even faster.

I was driving so fast that bumps and things in the road weren't even felt. I just flew over most of them. He just kept sitting there next to me, sleeping and I began to wonder if he was still alive.

I passed a state trooper in his car. When I passed him, I was doing eighty-five miles an hour and climbing. I looked in the rear-view mirror and I saw them pull out of the space in which they had been parked and start to come after me. They had their red light flashing and their siren wailing and I knew that I was surely going to get screwed if I got caught. I figured that the best thing to do would be to get as far away from them as I possibly could.

One of the things my brothers and my father had taught me to do at home was to drive. They had taught me when I was really young, so that by the time I was eligible to drive legally, I would have had enough practice and I would be able to pass the test easily. Well, there was one thing that they hadn't really counted on. I used to watch the auto races on TV and that was another area that I had always wanted to make a mark in, as a woman. I wanted to be the first woman to win races, but I wanted eventually to be accepted as a driver because I was a woman, not necessarily because I was good.

I had practiced on an old, beat-up car that my father had give me when I turned fifteen. I used to take it to an abandoned lot and I got plenty of practice in quick turns and just general control of a fast car.

And it paid off, on this particular day.

I was watching these two cops in this state patrol car through my rear-view mirror. I had visions of lynchings, kangaroo courts and my illegal incarceration in a moldy dungeon, doomed to rot until eternity. I was determined not to be caught at any cost.

I shifted the car into high gear and floored the gas pedal. I took off so fast that I left a huge cloud of dust behind me. I was hoping that that would be enough to lose them, but it wasn't. I really had to "haul some ass" as they would say to get away from them. They weren't about to get beat, but neither was I.

We hit a long, long straightaway, several miles. This was going to be like a sprint and I had a chance to open up a good distance between us. By the time we had gone about a mile, the gas pedal had gotten to one-twenty and stopped there. It just couldn't go any further.

I also had the idea that they would have a road block set up ahead. I had the feeling that I was going to have to pull some kind of stunt to get out of this, but I really didn't have any idea of what was coming. I just knew that it was coming soon and that I had better keep my eyes open for it.

Well, by the time we reached the end of that straightaway, I was a good three-quarters of a mile to a mile in front of them. I rounded the corner and went up the steep, winding hill. The two cops probably couldn't believe that anyone they had ever seen, let alone a woman, could drive this fast and this well.

I kept heading uphill, on back toward the school and wondering what was going to happen next. Before I had much of a chance to worry about it, it happened.

Off in the distance, I could see the flashing lights of more police cars. They were about a mile and a half away and it was about ten seconds before I could see anything too clearly. I strained my eyes and then I saw that they had blocked off the road with three cars, evenly spaced. It appeared that the only chance I was going to have would be to crash through them. I bore down on the wheel and braced myself for the impact. As I approached them, I hit the gas pedal even harder and pushed it all the way down to the floor.

They had been waving at me to stop. They were waving frantically now and it soon dawned on them that all of the waving that they could do wasn't going to stop me. I was determined to get through at any cost.

They all flew out of the way as I crashed through. They weren't quite that dedicated to state service and they weren't going to let a maniac like me kill all of them.

When we collided with the three police cars, the impact sent us hurtling skyward. We were soaring through the air like a jet and Johnny woke up in mid-air. The force of the impact had awakened him. He looked out of the window to see where we were and he almost fainted.

"What the fuck is happening?!" he shouted.

I was too busy trying to keep the car under control and praying that we would reach the ground safely and in one piece, to worry about what he had to say at the moment. After all, he had slept all this time and I hadn't bothered him, so now it was only fair that he shouldn't bother me.

The car landed, on its wheels, about fifty yards from where it had taken off. It had been in the air for about five seconds and we landed with quite a crash. We bounced once and then landed there, just as calm as could be.

The state troopers, in the meantime, had regrouped and decided that it was still their duty to come after us. They didn't want to, I'm sure, but they decided that they must. So they got into their cars or what was left of them and started after us again.

Now, you may ask how I know what was happening behind us. Well, believe it or not, when we bounced, the car slid and turned around. We were now facing the road block that we had left behind us.

The three cars were coming toward us now and there was no time for me to turn the car around and drive off. I decided that my only course of action would be to shift into reverse and take it from there.

I shifted the car and looked into the rear-view mirror. I had a clear path behind me, so I stepped on the gas. Imagine if you will, the scene, with this little foreign car, driving backwards at quite a clip and three state patrol cars in hot pursuit.

I realized after a short while that I would be able to keep up this backward driving only a little longer. Sooner or later I was going to come to a turn, or some other cars, or something and that I had better be forward by the time I got to it.

I stepped on the gas and I put a pretty good distance between the police cars and myself. Then I eased up a little bit on the gas and at the same time I turned the wheel of the car quickly around. This caused the car to skid and it turned us around so that we faced the right way. I immediately shifted into drive, floored the gas pedal and was off like a shot.

Before long, I shifted into high gear and I lost them. I didn't let up on my speed, though, until I was sure that we were far enough ahead of three of the worst drivers I had ever seen.

We pulled up in front of the school and drove onto the grounds. We drove inconspicuously to the rear of the school, where I parked the car. I practically had to peel Johnny out of the car. He was stuck against the seat of the car, a look of panic frozen on his face. He seemed to have aged quite a lot since he had awakened. I figured that what he needed more than anything else at the moment was a good stiff drink.

As we walked to the dorm, I looked back over my shoulder at his car. It was in surprisingly good shape, considering all that it had been through that afternoon. It was a pretty good car, I imagine, but it never really ran quite the same after that day.

We reached the dorm and I led Johnny up to his room. He was like a jellyfish. He looked very sick and there was very little that he could say or do. He just sat around looking very weak. I didn't know if it was because of the harrowing experience that he had had, or because of the damage that was being done to his car. It didn't really matter.

I looked into one of his closets and I soon found the bottle of Scotch he had kept stashed for emergencies like this. I poured out half of a big glass and gave it to him. He took it, but I don't think he really was quite down to earth yet. He just sat there holding it and I finally had to take it from him, open his mouth and pour it in.

After a little while, he came to. He was pretty nervous and upset and I sat there with him for a couple of hours. When I was sure that he was going to be all right, I kissed him on the forehead and went over to my building. I went in and went up to my room.

I was sure tired. I began undressing and before long, I was almost asleep on my feet. I managed to get finished in time to he down and I was asleep almost before I hit the pillow.

The next morning, I awoke early for classes. I had a splitting headache and the last thing I felt like doing was going to school. But I forced myself and I sat in school like a zombie all day. And on top of that, I had a basketball practice right after school.

I was completely dead at the practice. I couldn't do anything and the coach saw it. Midway through, he told me to go home and get a good night's sleep. It was merciful relief and I went right home that afternoon and went right to sleep.

I had noticed, at the practice, that Johnny didn't even make it.

The next morning, I awoke with a fresh start. I felt good again and I went off to school.

I was glad to see that Johnny was up and around, too.

"How much do you think it's going to cost to fix your car?" I asked him.

"About a hundred and fifty dollars," he said. "There wasn't too much damage, just some internal stuff. Nothing to really get worried about."

I was glad that he wasn't mad at me. I think he was just glad to be alive.

That afternoon at the practice, I made up my mind to do my best to show them that I was a member of the team, not just someone there to draw crowds. I took the ball whenever I could and I put on a little exhibition of my own. Everyone was really impressed with me that afternoon. I had proven to them, once and for all, that I was a force to be reckoned with, that I could really play. I even surprised myself that day.

It came the time for our first home game and I was nervous as hell. We were going to be in front of the home fans for the first time and I was beside myself with anxiety. I was afraid that I would get into the game and make a few mistakes and everyone would boo, and I would go from hero to goat. I once again wished that I hadn't gotten myself involved in this whole thing.

As I sat there on the bench, I was doing all that I could to avoid Coach Russell's eyes. I knew that if he saw me looking at him, he would figure that I wanted a chance to play and he would put me in and I would fuck up.

I managed to avoid looking at him for the whole game and between halves. But near the end of the game, the fans wanted me in the game. They began chanting my name ... "Winter, Winter, Winter ... " He knew that there was nothing in the world that I wanted more than to stay out of that game, but he had no choice except to put me in.

I went in the game with about two minutes remaining. I was ready to shit on myself, but as soon as we started to play, all the nervousness disappeared right away.

I was lucky. For the whole two minutes that I was in the game, the ball didn't come near me once. We won the game going away and everyone cheered me as if I were the hero.

After the game, I changed clothes in my private dressing room. I was ready to leave, when I heard Coach Russell shouting to me to wait for him outside of the gym.

I had been thinking seriously about retiring from the game and I planned to tell him so. I just didn't think I was good enough and I would get too nervous about the whole thing when it came time to go into a game. There was a lot more pressure on me than on any of the other athletes and I really didn't know how to cope with it.

When he came out to meet me, he was all smiles. He wanted to go out and celebrate our victory in grand style, but he could see that something was wrong with me.

"What's the matter? You don't look as if you're quite the winner that you are," he said, laughing.

I really didn't feel quite as good about it and I told him. "I don't know, I'm just depressed. I don't really feel like I should be doing this. I think I should go play house, or with dolls, or just go play some girls' games."

He didn't want to believe what he was hearing. "Are you going to tell me that you are the best female athlete in the whole state, maybe the only one playing on any men's teams and now you don't even want to play anymore? I can't believe it. After you worked so hard to get where you are, you're going to give it all up right now, just like that?"

I looked at him and I almost wanted to cry. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I didn't think he, or anyone else, had any faith in me. I didn't want to tell him that I had made the teams out of the goodness of his and the football coach's heart, not because I especially had any talent. I felt like I was being used, so that they could keep their jobs and put people in the stands. I was nothing more than a gimmick and I wouldn't even be there if it had depended on talent alone.

I stood there with my head down and I think he sensed the way that I was feeling. "C’mon," he said, "let's go have a few drinks. It'll make you feel better."

We got into his car and we drove off toward the town. I had to admit that he sure did make a person feel better when they were feeling bad.

In the car, we talked about the games we had been in so far.

"You know," he said, "Actually, from a coach's standpoint and from a completely objective point of view, you haven't really been doing a bad job at all. Not that you've really been doing that much of a good job, but you haven't done anything wrong. You haven't made any mistakes and after all, I'm sure that you know that your true value to the team is a matter of morale. Why, I haven't had this many people come to see the games since I've been the coach."

He knew that this was not what I wanted to hear and he continued.

"But then, again, you're still learning how to play college ball against boys. And believe me, there's no way that I could even have you on the team, if there wasn't something you could do with the ball."

I looked at him, because I thought for a moment that he was being sarcastic. I thought that he meant that there was nothing that I couldn't do with his balls.

"The fans love you," he said. "Even the opposing players love you. They go out of their way not to hurt you in the games and it causes them to make costly mistakes and it gives us the game."

I looked at him. "But that isn't why I want to be on the team," I said. "I want to help the team because I'm better than them, not because they're afraid to hit me. I want to be treated like a regular ballplayer. I don't want anyone to make any special allowances for me."

He knew that I had him then.

But I figured that we would both be better off if we didn't think about it. I changed the subject.

"Let's get real drunk and then go home and carry on," I said. He knew that that was a proposition not even the best basketball coach could turn down.

We arrived at the bar he was taking me to and I realized that it was the same one that I had been in with Johnny. The employees of the place didn't recognize me immediately and I put my head down as we walked to the back, to the bar.

When we got there, I was quite relieved that I hadn't been recognized. If I had, they probably would have thrown both of us out, without letting us do anything.

We sat and drank for about two hours. The coach was awfully spaced by that time and I was pretty high myself. I wondered how I was going to get him home. I was wondering whether or not I should take another chance on driving someone else's car, or what I should do.

I nudged him and he almost fell off his stool. I told him that it was time for us to leave and we got up. He was so drunk that he left a tip bigger than the bill. We staggered out together and this time we drew a lot of attention to ourselves. They recognized me now and they were pretty mad that I had even had the nerve to come back to the place.

When we got outside, I managed to shove him into his car, on the passenger side. At least, he had a good old American car and I would be able to drive it without any trouble.

I took the keys from his pockets and I started the car. I began to drive it back toward the school, but I wasn't in much better shape than he and I was veering along the road pretty badly. I was a lot drunker than I thought and when I saw the police car in the rear-view mirror, I knew better than to try and get away this time.

The two cops were pretty big guys and they recognized the coach right away.

"Say, isn't that Bob Russell, the basketball coach from Masters U.?" one of them said.

"Yeah, yeah, that's him. And who are you, you pretty young gal?" He had his fingers on my neck and he was rubbing it. I didn't like it, but I figured that I would do almost anything to keep the two of us out of trouble.

"I'm a student from the college. I saw that he needed some help, so I helped him out."

"Yeah, he looks like he needs more help than you can provide right now, ha-ha-ha!"

"Yeah, it looks like he's just about ready for the drunk-tank type of help now," said the other.

"You know, little lady," said the first cop, who seemed kind of drunk himself, "I really wouldn't want to see an upstanding citizen like Mr. Russell here in the drunk-tank. And I don't suppose that you would, either."

I shook my head. I could only imagine what I was going to have to do.

"Now what do you suppose it would take to save your friend here from all of that embarrassment and trouble? What do you think it would be worth to you?" He started to laugh.

I thought quickly. As they say on the basketball court, good offense is the best defense. I got out of the car and walked toward the bushes at the side of the road.

I turned around and the two cops were still standing there. "Well," I said, "who's first?"

Both of them scrambled toward me. They began clutching at each other and struggling to see who was going to get to come over first. Finally, I guess one of them pulled rank, because the other one snapped to attention. The first one strolled casually over and went behind the bushes with me.

I knelt down on the ground and unzipped his pants. I took his swelling dong out and kissed it on the head. It grew larger and larger, right before my eyes and soon it had swelled to immense proportions. I was glad that all I was going to have to do would be to suck it.

I sucked on it tenderly for a short time and it seemed as if this particular cop hadn't had any in quite a long time. He came quickly, shooting a rather small load into my mouth. Either he hadn't had any in a long time, or he had just had some not too long ago. In any event, I managed to dispose of him in short order.

He went back out from behind the bushes. I heard him barking at the other cop and the last thing that he said was to "make it snappy."

The other cop came around the bushes and looked at me. He had a really wild look in his eyes and I knew that I was going to have some trouble with him.

As soon as he got there, I knelt down and reached for his zipper. He grabbed me and picked me right up from the ground. He stood me up, with that wild gleam in his eye and he practically ripped my pants right off of me.

I hadn't wanted this to happen, but it was going to and there wasn't much I was going to be able to do about it.

But then, he took me by surprise. Instead of throwing me down onto the ground and getting on top of me, as I had expected, he turned me around.

"I'm gonna fuck you in the ass," he said gleefully.

Oh, no, I thought, this is going to hurt like hell. I just hoped that he didn't have too big a dick.

Well, believe me, this fool showed me no mercy. He just rammed it in as far as he could on the first try. It must not have hurt him, but it sure as hell hurt me. He was just sliding it in and out, with no kind of lubrication at all. I never went through as painful an experience in my life and probably never will again, either.

Luckily, he must have been pretty hot, because he came within two minutes. It was unbelievably swift and he just let go of me and dropped me to the floor like I was an old used toy. I knew that I was bleeding, but I didn't know how badly. I didn't care either, I was just glad that the whole fucking thing was over.

The two of them got in their car laughing and they drove away. Mr. Russell was still asleep in the front seat of his car. I wasn't so sure that he was asleep. I had the feeling that he had passed out completely.

All I knew was that it sure hurt like hell to sit down in the car.

I got back to the school and I woke him up. I gave him his car keys and told him I might not see him the next day at practice. He really didn't know what was going on, but it was all right. I was sure that the time would come when I would have to tell him just how devoted I had been to him.

Sure enough, that time came that night. He was outside of the dorm, honking his horn. I saw him from the window and I went down to see what the matter was. He said that all of his money was gone from his wallet.

I explained to him that he had blown a lot of it on me in the bar and then I told him what had happened out on the road. The policeman had probably rifled his wallet while I was getting fucked.

He seemed pretty angry and he swore to me that he would fix them. It seemed that they were in the habit of doing nasty things in the town and he had been the butt of their jokes before. He was determined to get revenge for this.

This was a different Mr. Russell than the one I had come to know. Now he seemed like a completely different person and I wondered if it was going to affect his coaching ability any.

Well, the next day in practice, he was back to normal. There was no mention made to anyone of the incident and we both forgot about it in subsequent days.

It was almost time for the playoffs and our school had just barely made them. We were going into the playoff round with the worst record of any of the teams, but nevertheless, we had made it. We were being hailed by the newspapers as the comeback of the year and we all knew that we were going to win it all, even if no one else believed it.

One very funny incident happened in one of the games. Our team was on the floor, practicing before the game and they decided to have the marching band from the opposing school march right onto the floor with us, disrupting the practice and not even giving a damn. Needless to say, we were pretty pissed off at this, but Coach Russell knew just what to do.

He instructed our cheerleaders to attack the band and the band was stunned by the sight of twenty cheerleaders, running at them and attacking them with pom-poms. We won a rousing victory and the marching band was forced to retreat.

Then came the real game. We played magnificently against this particular team, but sometimes your best just isn't good enough. Every time we had a good chance to open up the score on them, they battled right back with us. They just refused to give up and we played them to a tie at the end of the game.

Because it had been a close game, I didn't even get into it in the regulation time. But when the overtime came, all of our players were bushed. They really were in need of more than the five minutes of rest that they were going to get. Coach Russell looked down the bench and he realized that I was the only player who had not seen action in the game.

This time I was ready. I hopped up on the bench, wanting very much to be noticed. I felt that there was a lot that I could do now, if for no other reason, than for the fact that everybody was tired and I was not. He saw me bobbing up and down on the bench and he signaled to me to come over to him. As soon as I stood up, a great roar went up from the crowd. They knew that now was going to be my turn and it was almost as if they could all feel the energy and the confidence soaring out from me.

When the overtime period began, I immediately got the ball. I took complete control of the situation and I dribbled down the floor like a professional. I reacted smoothly to every situation that arose and I inspired my tired teammates to reach deep down inside themselves for that last tiny bit of strength. They did and all of us managed a hard, hard victory over a tough team.

Everyone in the crowd had gone completely crazy. We had whipped a team that the odds makers hadn't given the slightest chance of beating and what was more, it seemed as though we now had the confidence to go right through to the championship.

For once, I was invited into our locker room with the rest of the players. Coach Russell had been confident enough to order a lot of beer and everybody was sitting in there getting as drunk as who knows what.

All of the players were getting drunk and coming up to me to offer their congratulations and their thanks. I had helped them more today than anyone in the whole season had and they were showing their appreciation by patting me on the ass and so on.

Somebody announced that there would be a victory party in my dormitory that evening and I looked forward to it and the opportunity to get really smashed.

Well, when I arrived at the dorm, the party was already on and in full swing. The second that I walked in the door, someone handed me a joint and someone else handed me a pipe full of something or other and within five minutes I was higher than I had ever been before. Everybody was dancing around and yelling and screaming and it was one of the wildest parties that this unusually wild dorm had ever had.

We had the next afternoon off from practice, to rest up for what were going to be some really wild games. I began to look forward to the championship game. I was having all kinds of daydreams, about leading the team to a victory in the final game and then leading them on to victory in the National Championships. I woke up from my daydream long enough to realize that I was going to be late for classes, as if it really mattered any more. I had missed so many of them that I was surprised that they didn't throw me off of the team.

I went to class reluctantly and once I was there, I had a most difficult time keeping my mind on it. I just couldn't get the basketball team off my mind.

I skipped the rest of my classes that day and I didn't know a thing that was going on anywhere. All I knew was basketball.

I went over to the gym and put on my sneakers. I was shooting a few baskets, just to get a little practice, when I started to really enjoy myself. I decided that I would stay for awhile and I went into the locker room to change into my practice uniform.

When I got in there, I began to take off my clothes. I thought that I was alone, but it soon became obvious that I was not. I had just taken off my bra and underpants, when I looked up and there stood the most gorgeous blonde hunk of man I had seen in at least days. He looked up at me, rather startled, but nonetheless, unashamed.

He was not wearing a stitch of clothing. He had just stepped from the shower and he stood there with his towel in his hand. He didn't make any motion to cover himself up with it, he just stood there gazing at my naked body.

I was pretty hypnotized myself, just looking at his tall, well-built, suntanned body. He reminded me of the lifeguards you see on the beaches in California. Not the kind that you actually see in California, but the kind that you always see in movies of California.

As I said, he was not the slightest bit ashamed of his body and he began walking toward me. His soft, yet rather long, slender dick, swung lustily as he made his way toward me. He walked silently which accounted for the reason that I had not heard him in there.

As he reached me, he smiled. He had locked me in his gaze and I was entranced by those beautiful blue eyes.

"My name's Mike," he said. "I pitch for the baseball team."

I really didn't know what to do for a moment. I had been swept completely off my feet by this beautiful body and this handsome face. I stumbled for the words, but they eventually tumbled out.

"My name is ... Ann," I said weakly. I had almost forgotten what it was. "I play for the basketball team and I was just going to get changed into my uniform to practice ... " My voice trailed off. It was like being in a dream, standing in front of him.

He moved closer to me. I could feel myself trembling, wanting him to take me and do his bidding with me.

He held me closely to his body and kissed me gently. His body was wet from the shower, but it was warm and he rubbed his dick on my bush. Chills went up and down my spine and I could feel his member rising in the heat of his passion.

I knelt down in front of him. There were very few things, at that time in my life that I liked to do more than to suck cocks. I really could have made quite a living at it, had that been my persuasion. But I just enjoyed doing it too much to want to do it for money. And besides, I figured that if I did it for money, sooner or later I would consider it a job and I really hated work.

I took his long, growing member into my mouth. It tasted clean and fresh from the shower that he had just taken. I could see that it agreed immediately with my method of introducing myself to it, for it began to grow steadily. Soon it reached its full, stiff length, a good ten inches and I wanted very much to feel those ten inches inside of me, fucking the daylights out of me. I figured that that would be a good way to warm up for a basketball practice.

I began to move my mouth steadily back and forth on it. I looked up at his face, to see how he was doing. He was smiling down at me. I knew that he was enjoying it, but that he had more than this in mind.

He took my face in his hands and lifted me up. He had a strong, yet gentle touch. His hands felt good on my face and he drew it close to him to kiss it.

Well, believe me, that is one kiss that I will really never forget. It was the kind of kiss that really knocks you out, if you know what I mean. The kind that made women collapse, back in the fifties, you know?

Well, when he let go of me, I nearly did collapse. My head reeled for a moment and he saw that I was going to fall backwards. He grabbed me and held me up by my shoulders until I could get my balance.

We both laughed and I remarked to him that he had the handsomest smile, indeed, the handsomest face I had ever seen. He laughed at my choice of words and he kissed me again.

I reached down and took his prick in my hand. I felt the entire length of its long smooth shaft and I rubbed it back and forth several times. This caused him to kiss me more passionately now and soon I felt the desire of both of us overtaking me.

I turned and looked around the locker room. There was a mat in the corner, the kind that the wrestling team used. I took him by the hand and led him over to it.

To his surprise, I pushed him to lay him down onto it. He wondered what I was going to do and then he realized it and smiled. I sat down across his body, with my legs spread open over him. I took his cock and rubbed it, making sure that it was nice and hard. Then I lifted myself up over it and sat down onto it.

I wiggled around on it, to make sure that I would get it in just the right way. When it was securely inside of me, I began to move my hips all over the place until I was jumping up and down on him.

He folded his arms behind his head and sat back to relax and enjoy the feeling. I slid smoothly up and down the entire length of it and I had the feeling that I would come long before he ever would. His cock was stimulating me greatly and I felt that it wouldn't really be very long before I would be sitting up there, on top of his dick, coming like crazy.

After a few strokes up and down, I felt that the time had come. I knew that I wouldn't be able to hold out any longer and I began to moan. It felt so good, that I just couldn't control myself.

He saw that I was about to come and he reacted. On the very last upward stroke, just before I came down onto his shaft and my orgasm, he held me up at the head of his dick. I looked at him, slightly annoyed that he had interrupted me, but I smiled when he said, "Not yet."

Then he eased me gently back down onto him. He held the cheeks of my ass tight to his body, with his prick still imbedded deep inside of me and he rolled the two of us over, so that he was now on the top and I his willing slave on the bottom.

Now he began to pump. Somehow, this time it felt so much better. He was doing the work and all that I had to do was sit back and enjoy. He was quite an expert lovemaker, this baseball pitcher and I had the feeling that that would be the next sport I would try out for. I had always like it anyway, but as long as it produced men like this, it was all right with me.

Now I really couldn't hold back any longer. I whispered loudly in his ear, "Oh, fuck me baby, fuck me, I'm gonna come, I’m ... gonna ... COME."

I felt the fabulous rush and the incredible sensation that his dick was causing in me. He had triggered a flood, a rush of emotions, that was causing me to tingle all over. The goose flesh had risen over my entire body and I felt as though I were being fucked for the first time.

I also was quite a threat on my own and the deep, warm massage of my orgasm triggered his, too. He moaned as the fluid poured freely from his organ, pouring into me and filling me. He felt as if he, too, had been a virgin, shooting his first, huge load into my pussy.

I kissed him all over his face and he kissed me. The two of us had really enjoyed making love to each other. It seemed as though everyone I was meeting lately was pretty good in bed, or on a mat, or just about any old where.

He got up and looked down at me. "Now I guess I have to take another shower," he said, smiling.

I laughed and I knew that I would have to take one too. "Well, you better hurry up," I said, "because I'm going to take one. And besides, we don't want to get caught in here, do we?"

He smiled and said "No. Well listen, you go ahead and take one. I've got to get out to the field for the baseball try outs. I can take one when I come back."

I smiled at him and went into the shower.

He stood out there getting dressed and as he turned to leave, I called to him, "Tell your coach that you have somebody who wants to try out but can't make it today." Then I remembered that I really didn't have to play any basketball today and I thought that maybe I should go with him, to try out. But I thought better of it, when I remembered that Mr. Russell would be awful mad if his star player was injured, doing something that she wasn't supposed to be doing. I just smiled at him and he turned to go.

While I was in the hot shower, I started to think about playing baseball. That had always been my favorite sport as a little girl and the one that I was best at. I decided that I was going to have an even better time in the spring than I had imagined.

I finished drying myself off and I headed over to where my gym equipment was. I had almost forgotten completely about the fact that we were in the midst of a hot basketball playoff and that I had to be in top shape, not off dreaming about handsome baseball players. I figured that that was one of my real shortcomings as a player. I had been conditioned for so long to regard men as the aggressor, as the one who plays all of the sports, that I forgot to assert myself as a woman. And it showed on the athletic field.

Instead of being regarded by men as their equal, they regarded me as less than nothing. And the reason was because I tended to look up at them rather than over at them. I decided that the time had come to end this foolishness once and for all.

At this point in the basketball season, I no longer had anything to prove to anyone. I had shown everyone: the administrators, the coaches, the Alumni Association, the fans and the other players, that I was more than just a sex object, or something. I was a real ballplayer and a woman as well.

I went out to the gym and shot around for about an hour. Then I went home and went directly to bed.

There were no classes the next day and we had an early practice. The final playoff game was scheduled for the next morning, a Saturday and we didn't play too hard, because we didn't want anybody to get hurt. And Mr. Russell made sure that every one of his players was in bed early that night, in preparation for the game. He went into the dormitory, which was unusually quiet, especially for a Friday night and he counted the heads of his players. He counted eleven, not counting me.

He had me sitting in his car waiting for him. He had rented a motel room for us, so that we could spend the night together.

We went to the motel and checked in. The clerk eyed us suspiciously, as if he wasn't sure whether or not to believe the "Mr. & Mrs." bullshit that Mr. Russell had handed him over the phone.

I was really surprised that he didn't want to do anything more than sleep, when we got up to the room.

"What's the matter?" I asked him, thinking for sure that he wanted to stay up and fuck all night.

"Nothing," he told me, "I just wanted to make sure that my star ballplayer was going to get a good night's rest and not be running around getting high all night." He smiled at me.

For the first time since I had known him, I had the idea that Mr. Russell cared about me more than just as a piece of merchandise.

"And on top of that," he continued, "I heard that you're going to try out for the baseball team next and I didn't want to have you running around with those clowns all night."

I laughed. Word got around pretty quickly in those days.

He leaned over to me and kissed me goodnight. Then he reached over and put out the light.

I began to think about all that had happened in the past few weeks, all that had happened to us together. There were still a lot of scores to be settled and tomorrow would be a showdown for a lot of things and a lot of people.

The day would probably be the biggest thing that had ever happened to the school. There were going to be brass bands and politicians kissing babies and just such an air of merriment and excitement. The basketball game would seem almost like an afterthought, compared to the festivities.

The morning came and the people in the dormitories were hanging out of the windows, stoned as ever, at nine o'clock in the morning. There were townspeople all over the campus. There were more people there than had probably ever been there.

And there were the two cops who had stopped us on the road that day, on the way back from the bar.

I had heard through the grapevine that there was a lot of betting going on, on this game. According to what I had heard, the smart money was betting against our school. We were playing a powerhouse team and it was unlikely, I was told, that they were going to lose to a bunch of creampuffs.

We went into the gym, amidst the hysterical cheering of everyone there. You would have thought that we had already won the game. Everyone was really up for this one and there was little doubt in our minds that we were going to lose.

Once again, I came into our locker room after everyone was dressed. Mr. Russell wanted to address everyone at the same time, since we were a team.

He told us that he didn't really care if we won or lost. It didn't matter because we had proven to the world that we were a great team. We had proven it to him, too, he said, but most of all, we had proven it to ourselves. And that, he said, was all that really mattered.

We were all ready now, ready to go out there and destroy that team. We got out on the court, though and watched them practice and suddenly it became evident that they were a lot better than we had thought they were going to be.

The game began and it was their game from the start. They were just too powerful a team for us. By the end of the first half, they had run up a 69-32 score on us.

The two cops were sitting in the opposite end of the gym from our bench. They were laughing very loudly at all of our mistakes and they kept slapping each other on the back and laughing. They were quite annoying to everyone there and pretty soon, Mr. Russell began looking over at them, trying to decide what to do about them.

I hadn't told him that they were the two who had given us such trouble on the road that day, but now I decided that the time was right. I whispered it into his ear and he looked up at the two of them, making such jackasses of themselves over there. He called a time out and went over to them.

He was a big man, but he never looked as big as he had that day. He went over to the two of them and they were looking at him incredulously when he punched both of them out. They were just lying there in the stands, unconscious and a rousing cheer went up from the stands. Then he went and sat down and the game resumed.

Well, we lost the game, but we played pretty tough. We managed to cut their lead down in the second half, but not enough and the final score was 127 - 112. Not a bad showing for two college teams, I would say.

But the thing that really amazed me the most was that, at the end of the game, instead of everyone feeling bad and down, everybody cheered. They weren't cheering for the winning team, they were cheering for us. They were grateful for the fabulous season we had given to them, for all the thrills and the happiness and the fun.

And that night, the campus saw not a quiet, silent, saddened, group of people, but the usual merriment and the usual happiness and the usual orgies of a Saturday night.

I entered the dormitory that evening, feeling a little bit depressed, but my sadness soon turned to happiness at the sight of all the partying going on. Everybody was having themselves a grand time and there was so much dope being passed around that everyone soon forgot their troubles.

My troubles really began on Monday morning. I was called to the Dean's office and asked to explain the incident that had occurred on the road that day. It seems that the cops had decided to press charges against Mr. Russell for hitting them during the game and somehow I had been named in the episode. They wanted to know the full story of what had happened. I was glad to be able to turn in those cocksuckers and I spilled the whole bag of beans. I left out one or two important details and I changed a minor fact here and there, but it was basically the same story. I guess the two cops hadn't counted on my testimony. In any event, they were the ones who were going to get the royal screwing.

Then the Dean wanted to know a few things about me. For instance, why had I been cutting so many classes? He had been told by the teachers that they hadn't seen me in ages, at least since the beginning of the term.

It appeared now that I, too, would be getting the royal screw.

He told me that the Academic Committee was going to review all of my records and that I would be notified by them when to return.

I walked out of the office and I felt like crying. People were passing me in the halls and saying hello, but I didn't even bother to look at them. The future looked extremely bleak and I wondered what was going to happen tomorrow.

I went over to the gym and I informed Mr. Russell of my plight. He seemed very sympathetic, but like there wasn't really much that he could do. He told me that I could get the Athletic Committee and the Alumni Association, onto my side, but that he wasn't sure whether or not I would have much of a case. After all, I really had been neglectful of my studies.

As a matter of fact, I had been neglectful of the fact that I had even had studies. It didn't look like I was really going to be able to do very much about the situation.

Well, in the following days, I once again heard from the Academic Committee. They called me into the Dean's office on a sunny Friday afternoon and they advised me of their decision.

Because of my total disregard of my schoolwork, my utter neglect of responsibility, my contempt for authority and my shocking behavior, on and off the campus, I had been suspended from any further athletic competition, for the remainder of the season.

However, they added, because of the fact that I had helped to revolutionize the collegiate athletic world by my highly skilled and unorthodox play and because I had brought such notoriety to the school and because, I suspected, the Athletic Department had been breaking their balls, they had decided to suspend the suspension. This would be approved only if I were willing to sign a pledge to do the best that I possibly could to catch up on my schoolwork and to stay out of the least bit of trouble, on and off of the campus.

I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Mr. Russell winked at me from a corner and I thanked them all very much. I hurried out of the office, before they had a chance to change their minds and I skipped over toward my dormitory.

I felt like the happiest girl alive.

Until I thought of the prospect of catching up with all of that schoolwork.

Ugh!

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