An All American Teenage Sex Life II Sophomore SeasonChapter 13
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We walked back inside and I quickly discovered my Sunday wasn’t over. Beast was on the line.
“Parker, you wanna shoot hoops?”
“Yeah, sounds good. We need a fourth?”
“I supposed, who you got in mind?”
“Mikey?”
“Yeah, I guess I can kick his ass as easy as yours,” Beast chuckled.
“I’ll call him.”
“I’ll pick you both up and we’ll go to Tree’s.”
“Later.”
I asked mom and dad if I could go shoot hoops for the afternoon.
“Be home for supper.”
I could hardly think about supper. I was still stuffed.
“What are we having?”
Mom looked around the kitchen. “Hot beef sandwiches,” she grinned sheepishly.
“You could have just said leftovers,” I laughed.
“Be back by six for leftovers,” she grinned.
I got ahold of Mike, and he was thrilled to get out of the house for the rest of the afternoon.
Beast collected Mikey first, and I dragged Mike out of the Monte Carlo to see my new pride and joy.
I whipped the cloth cover off her once again, with a practiced theatrical flare.
“Nice, dude!” Mike took a trip around the Mustang. “Too bad you can’t drive it for like a year.”
“Her,” I corrected. “I get my school permit in a little over a month. Don’t you worry. I’ll be driving her.”
We arrived at the Turner Farm. Trent, Tree that is, was already practicing some shots. Unlike the barnyard setup Beast used, Tree had a hoop in the driveway.
“How we splitting this up?” Tree asked.
“You should probably watch us take a few practice shots before you decide,” I deadpanned.
Both Beast and Tree played JV basketball. Mike was a wrestler, and I had chosen football and baseball over basketball. I was only allowed to play two sports. That’s about all my parents could afford, with their time or treasure.
Tree shrugged and bounce-passed the ball to me. I grabbed it, took a couple of experimental dribbles and aimed a jumper at the hoop.
“KLANG!”
I bounced it right off the front lip. Undeterred, Mikey grabbed the loose rebound and skyed it over the backboard entirely.
Both Beast and Tree were rolling in peals of laughter.
I just shrugged. “Looks like you two pros will have to fight over us scrubs.”
“Bullshit,” Tree argued. “I know you can play.”
“Alright, alright.” Let’s play a round or two of HORSE, then we figure out how to split this up.
We went a round with Tree beating me out, then I actually won the second round.
“Told you. Who you trying to hustle here?” Tree complained.
“Fine, fine, I can shoot baskets. How you guys wanna to divide this up?”
“Me and Beast, you and Mikey,” Tree nodded firmly.
“Absolutely not,” I shook my head. “A wrestler and a baseball player? What are you two scared of?”
“We’ll play to 21. If it’s a blowout, we’ll switch,” Beast shrugged.
“Fine. We won’t tell anyone when you get taken to school by a couple of non-basketball players.”
“Actually, I’m going to tell everyone if that happens,” Mike grinned.
I motioned for Mikey to huddle up at about where half court would be.
“You’re on Beast. I know he’s taller than you, but he’s slower. We’re gonna use that. We’re gonna run these two ragged. They’ll play to their height advantage, we’re going to run them off the court. Got it?”
“I didn’t sign up a workout, man,” Mikey complained with a half grin.
“Check it.” I challenged to Tree.
They already had the same defensive idea. Tree would be on me.
Mikey started to run around Beast to my left. I pitched it his was and took off immediately in the same direction, running around both Beast and Mike.
“Now!” I yelled.
Tree was caught up behind those two in my wake and Mike bounce-passed it to me and I laid it up effortlessly.
“That’s two!”
Beast took the ball up the court and turned.
“Check it.”
Mikey bounced it back to Beast. He immediately tossed it high toward Tree. I took a gamble and tried to swat at it, narrowly missing. Tree spun and pumped up a shot, clanging it off the iron.
Beast was already there to grab the rebound. His shot under the basket also missed, and Mikey made an excellent rebound from just behind Beast and tossed it back to me as I was already running past the key.
Tree and Beast took a moment to set their defense as I dribbled. Tree came to challenge me, and I head-faked him to the right before crossing over to the left, leaving the taller teen behind me. Beast was on me as Mikey hadn’t bothered to move much from the paint and I simply bounced it to him as Beast left him wide open.
Mikey took his time, practically setting up camp with the ball before lifting his shot.
“Whooosh”
“OHHHHH! The wrestler has a basket before either baller does!”
Whether I played basketball on a school team or not, I could talk trash with anyone.
“Check it!” Beast demanded with a bit of irritation.
Mikey bounced the ball back his way, and he once again arced it to Tree, who slapped both hands on it. I was all over him, and he waited for a chance to dribble or pass. I wasn’t going to make it easy on him.
Beast was rushing past to pick off Mikey.
“Mikey, pick!”
He didn’t catch on in time and Tree tossed the ball over his shoulder to a sprinting Beast, who took a running jump and slammed the ball through the hoop.
“You gotta watch the pick there, Mikey, or he’s going to tear the rim down on us.”
“Yeah dude, I got it.”
Beast was back to grinning and he and Tree exchanged high fives.
“I need some more tempo out of you,” I said flatly to Mike.
“Check it.”
Tree bounced the ball back to me, and Mikey, to his credit, was off and running already. I hard-passed the ball his way and he caught it, but stopped immediately. Fortunately I was on the run. Tree and Beast seemed to sense Mike’s hesitation, and both descended on him.
Mike was just playing possum. He sent the ball my way and I laid up another deuce with ease.
6-2
“Woooo!” I crowed. Do they teach you boys any defense on the school team? Good lord, no wonder our school sucks so bad at B-ball.”
I wasn’t saying anything untrue. Our basketball program was atrocious. We regularly made the state tournament in wrestling, and had recently made headway in the playoffs in football. Basketball, on the other hand, was not our thing.
I might have bit off more than Mikey and I could chew. Tree and Beast were steamed, and they were huddled off to the side.
I didn’t like the look of that. I called Mikey over.
“They’re going to use their height, they just haven’t figured out how to do it yet. And keep an eye out for that pick again. When I call it, we switch off.”
“Got it.”
“Check it.” Tree said flatly.
I bounced it back to Tree, then got right in his face.
Beast set up just behind me, keeping Mike off him for a moment. Tree did indeed use his height, and lobbed the ball over my outstretched hands and toward Beast. He palmed it and paused, getting ready.
Tree took off left and I was just ahead of him, keeping my body between him and his teammate.
Once I was clear of the lane, Beast started dribbling and and backing his bulk up into Mikey. Mikey couldn’t reach the ball, and he couldn’t stop the rearward progress. Beast looked like he should have been required to use a safety beeper as he backed up like a dump truck, then turned and shot over Mikey’s head. I was racing for the hoop ahead of Tree, but the shot sank true.
6-4
“Mikey, you take it.”
I was going to see what kind of speed the Tree had in him.
“Check it.”
Beast bounced the ball back to Mikey, and I was off to the races, running laterally across the court behind Beast. Tree was fast, but he could not keep up with me. Mikey bounced it my way and I corralled it, dribbling hard and making a run to the hoop.
I was met there not just by Tree, but Beast as well. I knew Mike would be open somewhere, but I couldn’t see him until the last moment, he was camped right at the charity stripe. I pitched it his way and ran past both Tree and Beast as they took a moment to ponder Mike.
I was wide open to the right of the hoop. Mike squared up.
“NO!” I yelled, but it was too late. He hoisted up his shot and klanged it off the backboard. Tree was there to take it in and Beast was on the run.
“Defend!” I yelled and Mike came out of his trance in time to follow Beast, but he was already running outside as Tree floated the rebound his way. I got between Tree and Beast, but the big fella just came in at his full speed and laid it up for an easy two-pointer.
6-6
Just like that, the dream was fading. But we had plenty of game left to go.
“You’re going to let me take the shots, right?”
“Yeah, dude, it was just too tempting.”
“Get your body on Beast and feed me. Feel free to shoot, but only up close. That’s all you gotta do.”
Beast checked to Mike and I was on the move, running right behind Beast. This time though, they peeled off and Tree was on Mikey.
Mike wasn’t sure what to do, but I now had a lumbering Beast trying to catch up with me.
“Deep!” I yelled, and ran right for the hoop. Mike gave it his best chuck, and I caught up with it just short of the hoop. I had to reach down a bit to get it, but was up with a jumper and banged it in off the backboard.
8-6
Beast was huffing and puffing. Tree was shaking his head. Mike was pleased with himself and I was sucking wind as well.
They huddled yet again, likely for a breather.
I ambled over to Mike. “If they switch like that, look for me to get open at the hoop. He can’t keep up with me.”
“Yeah, dude. But Tree almost blocked that pass. He’s got a lot of height on me.”
At 20-16, it looked bleak for Mikey and I again. Beast had settled into backing Mike up to the hoop, and didn’t even stop after I started making the beeping sounds with my hands cupped to my mouth.
“Dump truck, backin’ up!”
The strategy effectively put me out of the game defensively, and they could simply shoot over Mike when the time came. Then it was a matter of trying to keep up with me on the next possession.
“Check it.” Beast demanded with an air of confidence.
Mikey bounced it his way and got in his face.
Tree caught me off guard going to the his right, and had a slight opening. Beast didn’t hesitate and pitched up to him. Tree grabbed the pass and challenged me head on, taking the dribble my way. I could see Beast coming our way and called it.
“Pick!”
I simply hoped Mike would catch on, and I switched to Beast just as Tree tossed it over his shoulder to him. Beast squared up from just outside the lane and let it go as I leaped up with all I had.
“SWAT!”
Miraculously, I had just climbed the summit of Mt. Beast and slapped his shot away harmlessly.
I came down in a crouch and let that excitement escape me with my fists clenched.
“GET THAT SHIT OUTTA HERE!”
Both Mike and Tree were almost in tears laughing. Beast was less than amused.
All pretense at play had stopped and we clearly needed a break. If not from the exertion of the game, then from the hilarity of my antics.
Just then someone caught my eye, and I was suddenly a little embarrassed at my choice in language.
It was little Tiffany Turner. Well, not so little Tiffany Turner. She was Tree’s little sister, another soon-to-be 8th-grader. She was carrying a tray with four tall, glistening glasses of what appeared to be lemonade on it.
“You boys look thirsty,” she stated a little shyly. “Lemonade?”
Tiffany was a tall-for-her age, willowy brunette, with cute little freckles over her upper cheeks and nose. She had pretty brown eyes and expressive eyebrows. She had a pert little nose and she smiled through a mouth of shiny braces. She had big curls in her hair and let it flow back over her shoulders.
“Sure, thanks.” I grabbed a glass and had poured half of it down my throat before the other boys could get in line.
We all accepted a glass with gratitude. Tree was last to take one and seemed a little put off by it.
Beast was grinning from ear to ear at him for some reason. For her part, Tiffany tried to make small talk.
“Who’s winning, it didn’t sound like it was going well for you, Trent?”
“We’re just about to win before Parker swatted the ball into the next county.”
I hadn’t even given the ball a second thought. Wow, how far did I knock that thing?
I shrugged with a grin. “You’re ball since I knocked it out of bounds, I guess.”
Tree knew where it was at least.
“So Jake, I hear you’re dating Deedee Vant Hull?” she rocked back and forth in her tennis shoes.
“Yeah, we’ve been on a few dates,” I said, a little shyly.
“I hear the baseball team is undefeated,” she added, with a nod.
“Yeah, it’s going well.” I drained the rest of the lemonade, slightly discomforted by the awkward conversation being forced on me. And why just me?
Beast was now jabbing Tree in the ribs.
“Well, thanks for the lemonade. It hit the spot, and just in time. Now we can finish off your brother,” I grinned.
“Thanks, I made it myself.” she nervously toed the concrete with the tip of her sneaker.
Tree put his glass on the tray next to mine, and rolled his eyes at his little sister.
Beast slammed his lemonade and set it on the tray as well.
Mike was still drinking, but a knowing grin was planted on his face.
He finished the drink with a groan, and set the glass on her tray.
“That was fine lemonade,” he grinned theatrically. “Do you always make lemonade when Tree has friends over for hoops? I’d sure come more often if there was lemonade like this every time.” He was just hamming it up now.
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TUESDAY DECEMBER 25, 1990, CHRISTMAS DAY I hadn’t seen Mel since Friday, and while I did miss her, it was probably good for my soul. Every moment seemed tumultuous, and drama buzzed around her like bees to flowers. We did everything at full throttle, whether it was making love or just not getting along. A few days of quiet time around my family was welcomed. Our family had our traditional Christmas Eve meal of oyster soup and appetizers like ham-wrapped pickles with pineapple cream cheese,...
FRIDAY, JUNE 28, 1991 After the playoff loss and public dumping, we skipped any kind of celebratory meal and headed home. I lugged my heavy bag of baseball gear into the house for the final time of the season. I didn’t even have time to strip and get my uniform into a soak before the phone rang. A tiny part of me wondered if Deedee had changed her mind. “Hello?” “Why didn’t you call me?” The feminine voice at the other end of the line was insistent and accusatory all at once. “I just...
SUNDAY, JUNE 30, 1991 I leaned forward with my head in my hands, rubbing my temples. Shelby pulled some of the blanket around her shivering form. It was a warm day, but a body soaked in sweat would get chilly in the breeze. Her horses, Destiny and Doc, munched grass lazily, paying us little heed. “Why not?” I asked the prairie scene in front of me, not wanting to look her in the eye. Shelby sighed and put her hand on my shoulder. “I might have done a bad thing today,” she sighed. “I did...
JULY 4, 1991 “Happy birthday, Jake.” It was a pleasant way to wake up. No alarm had been set. I was allowed to sleep in a bit. It was mom who woke me up in a gentle way at around 9:30. But it wasn’t her words that woke me up. It was the smell of bacon in the oven. I rolled out of bed and felt the sharp sting in my lower half. ‘Fucking leg day!’ I swore to myself. We’d spent the early part of Tuesday morning on the track, running short bursts of sprints on up to a full mile run. Then...
SATURDAY, JULY 6, 1991 ‘Breathe, just remember to breathe.’ The heat, the humidity. Oppressive. Harsh lights shining down on me. Mercifully, my Nomex head sock is soaking up the sweat from my head, keeping the stinging drips out of my eyes. My helmet feels a little suspiciously loose on my head, but the chinstrap is tight. All is almost silent here in the cockpit. I flip my visor up as my breathing is creating a little fog under the lense, with more than two dozen tear offs piled on...
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 1991 “I’m out in the cold (out in the cold) Body and soul (out in the cold) There’s nowhere to go (out in the cold) I’m out in the cold (out in the cold)” Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers had it about right. I was out in the cold. Of course, I still slapped the snooze button and shut him up anyway. I had a riot of feelings to deal with. Two rejections, were weighing heavily on my mind. Sure, I had sort of patched things up with Shelby. At the same time, we were...
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 1991 “What’s on your mind,” I asked as I closed my car door carefully. Jen seemed to stiffen and forced herself to turn towards me in her seat so that she couldn’t avoid looking at me. “What I said about the dance wasn’t entirely true.” “So you DO want to go to the dance?” I said with a lopsided grin. “I don’t know,” she said softly. “Let me finish.” “OK,” I replied, letting her continue. “I have gone to a dance before. It was, it was horrible.” “Go on,” I...
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 1991 “And homegrown and down-home, that makes one Cookin’ up that old time, long lost recipe for me, woh It’s gettin’ hard to find Guess it ain’t hip enough now You take an average guy, he can’t identify, uh And there’s a short supply of her fine, fine stuff Lemme get on, lemme get on, lemme get on some of that Shake it up, bake it up nice, uh Lemme get on, lemme get on, lemme get on all that I so love my baby’s poundcake.” Van Halen was so much better with Sammy...
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 1991 I woke with excitement Sunday morning. No alarm set, just the refreshing feeling of sleeping in after being worked hard for a few days. Well, that and the fact that I would be shooting hoops with a tall, gorgeous blond that day. The tantalizing aroma of a beef roast in the crock pot was what got me awake. I followed my nose out to the kitchen to see it bubbling away on the counter top. The parents had, as usual, let me have my Sunday while they headed to church...
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 27, 1991 Seven days of kisses and bliss. Jen got her kiss every day for a seventh day. Every time I saw her or thought about her, the butterflies were there. We held hands in the hallways and word around school was that we were the hot couple. The upperclassmen had accepted and welcomed me with open arms. If I’d been placed on the varsity team at the start of the season, I’d have likely faced some hazing. As it was, saving the big game and showing them I belonged put...
Harold Spencer Eversly was on vacation in Acapulco with his Mom. He was sixteen but looked younger. His father had died suddenly when he was only eight leaving his Ma a very rich woman. She was very possessive and Harold was something of a mother’s boy. They traveled around a lot, all over the world. Harold had been to a lot of different schools but not learned much. He figured he didn’t have to with the money coming to him from a Trust when he was 25. Until then he was quite...
American-Man At War By Paul G. Jutras "1,2, 3, 4...." Christine said as she stood in gold three inch pumps and a backless evening gown with spaghetti straps. With the clicking of drumsticks the band prepared to join in. Soto began to played the guitar in his usual leather jacket, pants and boots and red tee shirt. Mark played the drums, Luke the keyboard in their yellow and red striped coveralls, and Starshine the tambourine in her purple blouse, leopard print mini skirt...
Ida Hoe was waiting nervously back stage as her arch rival, Holly Keyhole, performed on stage riding Hoss Bigg cowgirl style on a trampoline. She could hear the audience shouting in delight. The raucous cheers were almost deafening.Ida was horrified that Holly might give an unsurmountable performance. Ida barely trailed her for first place in this grand finale episode of Miss American Pornstar. Winning the title of the first Miss American Pornstar would not only make her the newest rage in the...
Group SexNew Job for American-Man By Paul G Jutras Since American-Man's appearance the crime rate in Federation city had dropped way down. Too bad the number band of gigs his rock band had were also way down. Needing the extra pay, it was in his American-Man form that he became a bag man at a Federation City super market. The job was easy and American-man changed his costume with the bluish green shirt, black slacks and sneakers of the market. When he eyed a shoplifter trying to head out...
Okay, here goes nothing. African-American guys like myself have a certain image in the eyes of the world. We’re thought of as tougher, meaner and more athletic than the average guy. Also, people seem to think we gravitate toward either athletic pursuits or criminal endeavors, and nothing in between. Neither is exactly true for most Black men living in the United States of America. Just to prove to you how untrue these stereotypes are, take me for example. My name is Arnold Thompson. And I’m a...
“We knew the world would not be the same. A few people laughed, a few people cried. Most people were silent. I remembered the line from the Hindu scripture, the Bhagavad-Gita; Vishnu is trying to persuade the Prince that he should do his duty, and to impress him, takes on his multi-armed form and says, ‘Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.’ I suppose we all thought that, one way or another.” ― J. Robert Oppenheimer It seems sort of strange looking back on the unfolding events of...
-We learned in Part One of this story that I was a sixteen year-old virgin boy named James, who everyone called Jimmy, with a very thick, nine-inch-long cock. My neighbor Norm was forty-two at the time. His wife Lindsey was forty-one and their son Todd was eighteen and away at college.I went with Norm to open his lake cabin for the summer. We were skinny dipping on an unusually warm day for spring in Wisconsin and he convinced me that we should masturbate one another on the boat. That evening...
MILFTo begin, may I must make something perfectly clear. I’m virgin by my haughty cousin’s definition -- he says we may do it now because it is very assuered our families will marry us together -- but that doesn’t mean I have never made love. My story begins at St. Mary’s, an elite English-medium secondary school for girls. St. Mary’s has a Christian headmistress and several Christian faculty, but few of the students are of that faith. Christians know academics better than do mullahs and holy men....
The unlucky American. ? A reader of some of my other stories challenged me to write one about a terrified boy enslaved by a girl. This is the outcome of my efforts. ? Note: Tim’s private thoughts are marked by single inverted commas: ‘Shit’; direct speech by double: "Yes, Mistress". ? Part one. ? "I'm an American citizen, for chrissake. It's your fucking duty to defend me!" I shouted angrily at the embassy's legal secretary. ? "You are and I have". She looked calmly back. ? "But I was...
American Girl in Bangkok By Tiffany Parker The following story is a work of fiction and is copyright property of the author. Please don't repost it without permission. But most importantly, I hope you enjoy reading it. Chapter 1 Kaylee impatiently bided time while sitting in the middle seat in coach on the long trans-pacific flight. She was excited about her trip to Bangkok that would complete her journey and provide her the gender affirmation surgery she desperately...
Promises and Secrets: A Teenage Transsexual By Maria Ski Things changed for me after I was discovered trying on my sisters clothes. My mother had caught me. But there was no anger, no disgust, just a warm understanding smile and the love of a mother. From that day of being discovered, and after telling my sisters things seemed to change. Every weekend I became Maria. With a wardrobe of girls clothes of my own which I either bought myself or had bought for me. One thing led to...
Author's Note; This story is a dedication to Tom Petty. Song meaning to me are very subjective. I can take someone different out of song than someone else. I can even take something different out of a song depending on my mood. So with saying that this story is how I filled in the blanks of this great song. Debra Webster was an American girl who was raised on her mom and dad's promises.These promises were being able to be whatever she wanted to be in life, and their daughter would...
Alright, I can finally admit it to myself. I am a Muslim. I used to be one of those people who felt a strong dislike of Muslims, until I fell in love with one. It’s funny how these things happen, huh? My name is Solomon Kingsley Henderson, although many of my friends have taken to calling me ‘King Suleiman’ in recent times. It’s my Muslim name, though it’s not on my passport or anything. My wife Khadija Abdullah certainly likes it. She’s a lovely lady of Somali descent who saved my life back in...