Second Career Time

Disclaimers: Each and every character in my little story resides only in my mind. If they are partaking in sexual stuff, they are over 18 years of age. Not sure what category this belongs in, but I will figure it out. To be honest, there is some lesbian activity. Be forewarned. Finally, if I use any name of a real person, it is purely for authenticity.

My name is Evelyn Bond, or Evy as my parents have always called me. I am approaching my 28th birthday, and have just been told by one of the preeminent Orthopedic Surgeons in this area, that my professional basketball career is over.

I just finished my 6th season in the WNBA, with the Seattle Storm, which happened to be my best season, when I suffered the knee injury that ultimately ended my playing days.

I wasn't even playing basketball. I slipped walking down the steps in front of the house my grandmother had bought me when I signed my contract to play in Seattle.

It seems as if she didn't want me to pay rent, as women pro players' salaries didn't come anywhere near what men make. Besides, she was loaded, and I was her only granddaughter.

After playing since I was 6 years old, and never having anything close to an injury, I slip on my fucking stairs, and just like that, the thing I love the most is gone.

A little background information is called for, here. My father played a little ball, in his college days, at Harvard, but even standing just under 7 feet tall, his future was in finance, not the NBA.

When I started to play in the first grade, I was already taller than any first grader in my school. It took until I was in 8th grade before there was a boy taller than the 6'2" I had grown to. I topped out my Junior year of high school at just over 6'4".

Since I only weighed about 135, to call me gangly was an understatement. Along with having nearly no need of a bra, I endured all the mindless nicknames the boys could throw at me. The Carpenter's Delight, flat as a board. Was I suffering from TB? Two Backs. Yes, I heard them all. If it wasn't for the support from my parents, I might not have grown into the mature, but flat chested young lady I became. It also didn't hurt that I had a better jump shot than most of them and nobody in our entire school could shoot free throws better than me.

As my Senior year of high school was coming to an end, I was being recruited by close to 100 colleges, from all over the country. One thing I heard from several of the top coaches in the country was, you can't teach 6'4". Either you're tall, or you're not. Having a really good jump shot didn't hurt, either.

One by product of my height, was an extreme lack of dates. I did go out with two different young men from my school, but I found it very embarrassing not being able to wear anything close to sexy clothing. With no tits to speak of, nothing made me seem desirable.

If my mother didn't sit with me for hours telling me there was so much more than boobs to make me a woman, I don't know how I would have survived.

After my high school graduation, in suburban New York City, it was time to pick a college. Yes, education came first, but I wanted to play basketball at the highest level. I took several recruiting trips. South Carolina. Way too rural. Duke. Too stuck up. Notre Dame. Just didn't fit, for me. UConn, what seemed the obvious choice, but I finally picked Rutgers. Mainly, because their coach impressed me the most.

It wasn't that far from home, and since I didn't have a clue what I wanted to major in, I started with a clean slate.

I became a starter, my first game in college, ending my Freshman season as our team's second highest scorer. Speaking of scoring, I was still a virgin, but at least I went on a few dates. Yes, both times, the young men were shorter than me, and yes, they tried to convince me to let them into my panties. Neither of these guys were special enough, for me to let that happen. I realized I was getting a reputation of being stuck up. And, yes, the L word was being whispered. Several girls tried their luck with me, but after one date with a very nice girl, I just couldn't continue on that path.

My basketball career was succeeding, my education was doing very well, but my social life was stuck in low gear. I did start developing a new hobby. Photography. I started spending time outdoors taking as many pictures as I could. Anything and everything was fair game.

During the summer between my 2nd and 3rd year, I started dating a young man who truly liked me for me. Yes, he was shorter than me, by only an inch or so. Yes, we dated all summer, and yes, I finally lost my virginity, willingly. Gene was a year ahead if me, and from near Atlanta, giving me a perspective of another part of the country.

During my Junior year, Gene graduated, and got a very good job offer back in Atlanta, so, sadly, I was without a social life, again. My basketball career was doing well, and I still had the full support of my parents, so I pushed on.

Onto my final season of basketball, and getting my degree in Business. Also, my hobby was taking hold, meaning my time away from the basketball court was getting to be a lot of fun. I started taking pictures of people, finding as many interesting folks as I could want. Going to school so close to New York City, I never lacked for subject matter.

Onto the WNBA draft. I had never been a anywhere west of Ohio, for more than a basketball game, so getting drafted by Seattle had me running to my computer to see what this city had to offer.

I did find out that this was already a very good team, and the area seemed to be very welcoming. Visiting, right after the draft, meeting the team ownership, and local media, convinced me this would be a good fit.

It didn't hurt that the entire Puget Sound region was a photographer's dream. Mountains. The Pacific Ocean. Many lakes, plus rivers just waiting for me and my cameras.

During my first few seasons, I mainly spent my extra time adapting my game to the pro level. I also was making friends both on and off the court. I do admit to starting birth control pills, remembering what a few girls had told me in college, that they would increase my bust line. Total bullshit, at least in my case.

While playing in games, I did wear sort of a bra/camisole that covered my barely A cup boobs. In truth, it covered my very sensitive nipples.

During this time I did start dating, and did have a few boy friends who wound up in my bed. Or me in theirs. Nothing that ever led me to think they were husband material.

After my third season, I started working on a local picture book. I found an endless supply of material, along with the new found talent of writing about what my photos showed. I finished the book during the off season, found both an editor and publisher, so while I was battling the opposition on the court, my book was getting ready to be published. A side bar is needed here. I never intended on getting rich with this or any other books I created, it was just my outlet for having fun.

Just as my fourth season was ending, I struck up a friendship with a young man who was my polar opposite. He stood just over 5'10", was a little on the chunky side, and was black. Donald Johnson and I met, almost by accident, nearly running into each other in a grocery store.

After our first encounter, we actually made a 'date' to meet for coffee, the next day. Over a cup of coffee, we just talked, learning about each other. He knew I was a pro basketball player, with me finding out he was an accountant, or so he said. In truth, I had no reason to doubt him.

Over the next few weeks, we met several times, first for coffee, then for lunch. We seemed to be getting along, fine. He didn't seem to mind our height difference, and I didn't mind the racial difference. After a very nice dinner, and an even nicer kiss getting to his car, I made the decision to asking him into my house when we arrived there.

Moving inside my house, he took me into his arms, kissing me with his hands moving to remove my blouse, showing my extremely aroused nipples.

As good as his kisses were, I did not like how rough he was rubbing my nipples.

"Easy, Donald, they are very sensitive," I panted.

Not letting up on his assault on my boobs, I repeated my complaint about his roughness.

I honestly couldn't believe his next comment.

"How am I going to know how well we will get along when I move in with you?"

Pushing him back from me, I looked him in his eyes and stated, very forcefully, "back the fuck off, and get out of my house, if you know what's good for you."

He actually had a hurt look on his face, as he stammered that just maybe he went around this the wrong way.

"No shit, Donald, and I will repeat, get the fuck out of my house!!"

It took me quite a while to calm myself down enough to finally get some well needed sleep.

The following week, I was sitting in a neighborhood cafe, nibbling on some lunch, when my server brought me an envelope, telling a man dropped it off, for me.

As I opened it, I looked around not seeing any one I knew, I took out a single piece of paper, that had only three words written: Please Forgive Me.

I looked around, again still not seeing anyone, but thinking to myself, fat fucking chance.

All during my fifth season, my sex life rivaled that of a Dominican Nun. Several of my teammates, who knew about my encounter with Donald Johnson, offered to fix me up, with either a man or woman. My choice.

I answered a solid no thanks to all offers. My spare time was taken up with my photography, helping to keep my mind off me self imposed celibacy.

Between seasons, I finished another picture book, concentrating on the Central and Eastern parts of my adopted state. I also started a few classes teaching 6 to 10 year old girls the basics of basketball. I couldn't believe how much fun teaching kids was.

Half way through my class, one father, actually asked me for a dinner date. He added that it was his 9 year old's idea. He was 8 years older than me, divorced, and fairly easy to look at. Oh, yes, he stood just over 6' tall. Not that it mattered, but he was white. Jeremy Hayes, was his name, and our first dinner went surprisingly well.

As he walked me to my door, he even asked, jokingly, if I had a box for him to stand on, to kiss me goodnight. I could not believe what a fantastic kisser he was. Before I could make a fool out of myself, asking him inside, he quickly told me he didn't feel comfortable doing anything more than that kiss. I just took his face in my hands and softly kissed him a second time, thanking him for a fantastic evening.

I went inside knowing there would be a second date, and we would do more than kiss!

The following week, he asked me for another dinner, but told me he would do the cooking. Before I could ask, he told me his daughter was at her mothers, for the weekend.

Hmmm, was he asking me to stay the night? Would I stay the night?

I couldn't believe what a good cook he was, as dinner was amazing. "Evy, I need to tell you something. I have not been with another woman in the nearly 3 years since my divorce."

Just sitting next to each other, sideways on his sofa, he took my face in his hands and kissed me, so tenderly, over and over. All of a sudden, one hand moved from my shoulder down to my breast. Gently rubbing my nipple, causing a slight moan to escape my lips, I just looked into his eyes with a 'that's all there is' expression. He quietly told me his ex was a D cup, and he wasn't looking for a repeat of how that worked out.

As we made our way to his bedroom, our clothes started to be discarded. Blouse, pants, from both of us. His boxers. My thong. As we fell naked onto his bed, I took his fairly solid 7 inches in my hand and very slowly put my mouth around the tip. My tongue ran its way around the bulbous head, causing several low moans, almost growls.

"Evy, Evy, I'm not going to last..." Wow, before another word came out he exploded, with several huge streams of hot cum, right into my mouth. As I continued stroking his member, I let his offering just slide right back down his shaft. I knew he told me how long it had been, but I had never seen a man cum that much, in my life.

Panting, Jeremy took a wash cloth he had under his pillow, and did a bit of cleaning. I moved right next to him, kissing him softly on each cheek. Down his neck. Back to his mouth, with our tongues having a little fencing duel. He moved his hand down from my own neck, gently rubbing my very excited nipples. Kissing his way down my chest, to my tummy. Down to my lightly trimmed pussy, with his tongue finding my already wet lips.

I truthfully never had what I would call any great oral moments. Until now. Jeremy, by far had the most talented tongue I ever had licking my pussy. I must have cum twice within 5 minutes. While not being a true squirter, I did get his entire face very wet. When he decided to move back up my body, I was more than ready for his pulsating manhood. My God, could he fuck! After nearly 20 minutes of pure bliss, he finally shot another huge amount of cum inside of me.

Rolling off me, he grinned at me, and whispered, "I hope you're on birth control, or my Jenny might have a sibling."

Smiling back at him, I just quietly told him we were good, in that regard.

About 4 in the morning, I felt him spooning me, with one hand softly rubbing one breast. I just covered his hand with mine, and smiled. When I felt his growing manhood against my backside, I mumbled, not back there, sweetheart. Did I just call him sweetheart? Turning, taking his face in both hands, I kissed him as sensuously as I knew how. Rolling me onto my back, he moved in place, rubbing his cock up and down my entrance. As he entered my core, I wrapped my legs around him and held on for the ride if my life. My goodness, could this man fuck. I must have cum three times, and he was still hard as a rock. Moving me to all fours, he moved behind me, and started his extremely nice fucking motion, again. My first time in this position. I made a mental note that it wouldn't be the last.

I do believe that by the time my 6th season started, Jeremy and I could be called 'an item'. As pre-season started, several of my fellow veterans started some good natured kidding. One even started the grade school taunt, 'Evy's got a boyfriend!' Each time I heard any of those type of comments, I had this huge smile. God, I was happy.

Our opening game, on the road, I just happened to score a career high 29 points, in a very convincing win. We only had 2 days before our home opener, against the team featuring one of the few players taller than me, who twice in our matchups dunked the ball over me. We might be females, but dunking on an opponent meant the same as the men's game.

During our game, we held a large lead going into the final quarter. I wasn't scoring hardly at all, but I found my passing game was in high gear, setting a career high of 11 assists, in only three quarters.

With the game well in hand, and Coach getting ready to empty our bench, I had the ball on the wing, with only Brittany between me and the basket. I thought to myself, why not try, just this once. I had done it in practice, so, what the Hell.

I started my drive to the hoop, took a final last giant step, rose as high as I could, and... WHAM, I threw down my very first in game dunk! The crowd went absolutely nuts! I ran down the court with a grin a mile wide, with both arms raised, like a kid in a candy store.

Coach called a time out, knowing the crowd wanted to send me to the bench with our fans chanting my name, while giving me a louder than loud ovation.

Our Jumbotron kept replying my very first dunk, over and over. The ultimate compliment I received, was when Brittany came over and with a grin from ear to ear said, "not bad for a white girl!"

I finally turned to the seats two rows behind our bench to see Jeremy and Jenny both still cheering me on.

After the game, and showers, we were finally greeted by family, when our oldest player, and her super star soccer playing wife came over to where I was standing, with huge grins on both their faces, when the wife, grinning the widest says, "does this mean if Sue gets a good fucking by a man, she can dunk the ball, too?" The entire room exploded in raucous laughter. I turned about twelve shades of red.

When I finally finished with the media, I just fell into Jeremy's arms, hugging him like there was no tomorrow. Jenny just looked at me, saying, you really dunked over Brittany Griner, didn't you? I now had a lifelong friend.

As the season was winding down, and Jeremy and I were getting more serious. As I was leaving my locker room, after a very nice win, only to find Jenny waiting for me, looking like she had lost her last friend.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

"Daddy has to go to Chicago, for business. For up to six months!"

Holding her in my arms, just as my love walked out of the men's room, into my arms, too.

Silently, we just stood there, until I found enough voice to ask, when do you have to be there?

"Three weeks from tomorrow. And I hope you know how much I love you."

I just stood there, softly sobbing. I looked around, noticing 3 of my teammates comforting Jenny.

Could I take being away from my new love for that long? I was fairly certain of his fidelity, so that wasn't a concern. I did have my photography, and the playoffs to keep me very busy. I guess this was meant to be a test.

Every night I wasn't involved in a playoff game, Jeremy and I were together. Both in bed and out.

Way too soon, I was dropping him off at our airport. After about a hundred kisses, I left for home with tears in my eyes and an ache in my heart.

Not a week later, I became Miss Klutz, slipping on my steps, tearing every ligament in my left knee. Luckily, a neighbor was outside, and called 9-11.

At the hospital, my parents were called, as were most of my teammates. I knew it was too late to call Jeremy, and since Jenny was with her mother, I decided just to text her.

The next morning, I met with the surgeon, who informed me of my options. Telling me that all the knee ligaments that can be torn, were. My options, after the Doc informed me that sometime in the not too distant future, I would need a total replacement, were major surgery, or that replacement, right now.

After talking with my parents, teammates, and, yes, Jeremy, I decided on the total replacement. Surgery was scheduled, and successfully completed.

On my third day in the hospital, I got the surprise of my stay, when two of my teammates brought Jenny to visit me. Even though I talked or Skyped with Jeremy every day, her mother just couldn't be bothered with bringing her to visit me. What a bitch!

After being discharged from the hospital, I now had my physical therapy to start. When I picked one, recommended by my Doc and my team Doc, I made my first appointment. When the man walked in, I had to take a second look, noting how good looking he was.

As we went over his plan, adding in what my surgeon wanted, I voiced my expectations. He thought I wasn't being unreasonable, but he warned me about rushing to fast.

"You can do more harm than good, rushing things," he said. "Listen to your body, it will let you know when you've overdone things."

To be truthful, Lee, my therapist, might have been my biggest fan. Well, right behind Jenny, and her dad, even though he was over 1,500 miles away.

After just over 8 weeks, and Lee telling me how well I was doing, he asked me for a favor, that absolutely floored me.

Just as I was leaving from my last session, I could tell that something was on his mind.

"You're a photographer, right?"

"I take photos of inanimate objects, yes."

"Let me tell you what I would like, if possible."