Tall Sophie Ch. 03

Lost in thought, he almost missed Sophie's next pass to him. He caught the ball awkwardly, then dribbled to find an opening. He forced a shot and Lauren was able to chop it away, glancing his arm with her hand. Sophie called a foul, and he went to the line with his twosome leading 13-11.

As he bounced the ball, he glanced Sophie's way and she clapped twice with encouragement. He noticed her nipples were poking through the white fabric and he felt his breath quicken. He took the free throw and air-balled, cursing himself for getting distracted. He looked at Sophie and she briefly glared at him, then her face relaxed and she patted his butt and squeezed his shoulder. He felt warm inside and wanted to redeem himself. For her.

Lauren drilled another long shot bringing the score to 13-13. Sophie began dribbling the ball and looked at him with a nod as if to say, "it's coming your way". She began to drive the lane, pulling both Elle and Lauren toward her, then threw a brilliant no-look pass to Tom at the arc. He launched the shot and drained it for the win.

"Boo-yah," Sophie yelled.

Then she ran to Tom, wrapped her arms under his rear and lifted him off his feet. She began spinning around in celebration. He simultaneously felt the pride of victory, the elation of being in her arms and most of all, the deep satisfaction of pleasing her. He felt dizzy from the spinning but didn't want the moment to end. She finally set him down and turned to Lauren.

"I didn't believe you when you said your dad could play, Lauren. Of course, I'd take you over him any day, but he did well, given his obvious handicaps."

The half compliment took some wind from his sails. He also noticed she still wasn't speaking directly to him, which made him feel like a distant bystander, especially after the intimacy he felt as her teammate.

"Let's switch it up," Sophie said, putting her t-shirt back on. "Lauren you're with me. Elle you're on skins now."

Elle scowled at Sophie, obviously uncomfortable.

"You don't have to worry about those mosquito bites on your chest Elle," Sophie chided. "No one will be looking."

Tom observed how Sophie could break just as easily as she could build.

"Hey Sophie, that's mean!" Lauren jumped in, playing peacemaker. "Seriously, it's not like we need that to tell the teams apart."

"It's okay," Elle conceded, pulling off her t-shirt. "I'm proud of my body and Miss Beauty Queen over there isn't going to change that."

"Good for you, Elle," Tom said, encouraging his new teammate, extending his arm for a reassuring low five. He noticed she was quite flat-chested under her conventional sports bra, but the six-foot blonde girl had a cute face and lithe, willowy figure. In any other circumstance, he would be giving her more than just a glance. But in the presence of Sophie, she was practically homely.

"Your ball," Sophie said, bouncing it to Elle.

Elle began dribbling with Sophie defending her, then saw nowhere to go and passed to Tom. Lauren and Sophie switched up on defense and Sophie towered in front of him. Unable to pass back to Elle, he attempted a jump shot. As he rose in the air, Sophie's hand came down and met the ball at the top of his jump. Stuffing his shot, she stole it and drove for an easy lay-up. As she caught the ball coming back down, she chucked it back at him with an intense look, challenging him to try again.

He felt his stomach drop, realizing he was now her competitor and she intended no mercy. His competitive fire rose, and he determined to challenge her back. Instead of passing to an open Elle, he drove the lane toward Sophie. She blocked him out expertly, then braced to take a charge. He jumped, trying to find a way around her, but her positioning and hulking frame caused him to barrel directly into her. Leading with his left shoulder, he unintentionally rammed her with his full weight, but she stood like a skyscraper and didn't budge. Instead he bounced off and fell to the ground, the ball rolling harmlessly away. As Lauren called an offensive foul, Tom lay on the ground nursing his bruised shoulder.

"Dad, you all right?" Lauren asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," Tom responded as Sophie extended a hand down toward him.

He grabbed it and she yanked him up with explosive force, causing him to thrash forward until she reversed her power and whipsawed him until he stood straight up. Despite being aware of her strength, he was still amazed at how easily she tossed him around.

The next time Sophie had the ball, Tom was determined to defend her despite his height disadvantage. She gave him a cocky look and dribbled a couple times through her legs, then she turned her back to him to post up. She began backing him down, throwing her firm ass uncomfortably into his mid-section with each step toward the net. After every powerful thrust Tom was sent reeling back, only to regain his balance and try again to slow her. As she closed in on the basket, she jabbed him hard with her hip just as he stepped forward to defend her. He fell hard to the pavement. She turned and made a quick lay-up, then offered him her hand again. He declined and scampered up, then bent at the waist and grabbed his knees, winded from the exertion.

"Looks like your old man is getting tired," Sophie goaded toward Lauren.

"He'll be fine," said Lauren, while she flashed him a look of concern. "Elle, why don't you defend Sophie for a bit?"

Tom felt the same way he did when Sophie beat him at arm wrestling; ashamed at his inferiority and angry with her for making a spectacle of it. With the taller Elle now defending, Sophie began kicking it out to Lauren, who reliably sank shots from all over the court. Tom was proud of his daughter, but also had a hint of resentment that she had surpassed him. Despite his attempts, he struggled to defend her. He began to feel smaller and subordinate to all three girls on the court.

With the score 14-3, Sophie dribbled at the arc, while Tom stood in the paint near Lauren, who was sprinting back and forth to get open for a pass. Sophie began to drive toward him. He resolved to draw a charge and use the sacrifice to regain the respect he sensed he had lost. He planted his feet, crossed his arms on his chest and braced for impact. As she began a powerful leap toward him, he closed his eyes and prayed he wouldn't get hurt too bad.

He was surprised when no impact came. Instead, he felt her hand press down hard into his left shoulder. If he hadn't been tensed for the impact he probably would have crumpled. Rather, he managed to hold himself upright, grimacing with pain. It was the same shoulder he had run into her with. He turned his head to see Sophie's knee near his face as she swung her right arm above the hoop in a one-handed jam. She hung from the rim for a moment, then dropped down. Tom was spellbound.

"Holy shit!" Lauren cried in awe, then put her hand to her mouth realizing she swore in front of her dad.

"Technically that's an offensive foul," Elle said seriously. "But it was so freakin' cool I think we have to let it slide," she added with a laugh. "You guys win."

"I'm close to doing it on my own. But I still need an assist," Sophie conceded, then added, "Just a little one," throwing a playful punch at Tom's sore shoulder.

He winced. Even her light punches hurt, Tom thought to himself, and the verbal jabs too.

"I have to say, you guys make one heck of a tandem," Elle said admiringly to Sophie and Lauren. "You need nicknames, like maybe Maverick and Goose, or something.

"Ha! That's funny," Sophie responded, recognizing the Top Gun reference. Then she turned to look at Tom and placed her palm on his head. "Although it's not really fitting. Tom Cruise is like as short as Lauren's dad," she laughed caustically. "He's definitely aged better, though. I'd probably still do him."

Elle let out a snort and Lauren laughed in surprise. Tom just wanted to hide as she continued dismantling his ego. He turned away intending to grab his shirt but looked back when he heard Elle shout.

"Hey check it out! Lauren can dunk too!"

Elle had lifted Lauren onto her shoulders and was walking clumsily toward the net. Lauren swung her arms to dunk. It bounced off the rim as Elle swayed precipitously underneath.

Tom was surprised to see the back of a head poking through his legs. Hands grabbed his shins, and he was quickly hoisted into the air on Sophie's shoulders.

"Oh shit!" he cried out.

He frantically grabbed under her chin, but she swatted him away with one hand. Then he quickly grabbed the top of her head as an alternative. His stomach knotted up as he looked down. It felt like he was sitting on a moving balcony. Then his cock began to stir as he felt the rush of being fully under the beautiful girl's power. The light brown ponytail hanging between his legs only added to his growing dilemma.

Sophie began dribbling the ball with one hand while holding onto one of Tom's legs with the other. In contrast to Elle, her moves were fluid and certain. She approached the other girls and applied a deft spin move, then tossed the ball up in the air and grabbed Tom's unsupported leg. He instinctively released the top of her head to catch it, then easily jammed it home.

"That's what I'm talkin' about!" cried Sophie.

She caught the ball with one hand as it fell, and he felt a firm squeeze on his leg. The familiar sense of warmth washed over him. Despite her constant torments, it still felt good to succeed for Sophie.

As she walked toward the other girls, he was awestruck at her prowess while balancing his full weight so high on her body. His cock hardened and it began poking into the back of her neck. He tried to adjust backward but Sophie gripped his leg and tugged him forward to maintain balance, shoving his stiff member harder into her neck. It throbbed with the friction.

"Beat that!" Sophie taunted with a laugh, palming the ball arrogantly as she extended her arm toward Lauren.

"My jump shot's always been better than my jam," Lauren joked, raising the ball up to shoot.

Sophie took a step back toward the net. As Lauren began to pump, Tom extended his arms above his head and waved in a defensive posture. Then Sophie crouched and grasped hard onto Tom's knees. As the ball left Lauren's hands, Sophie leapt into the air toward the ball's path. Tom's hands flew high above the rim and he caught the ball as it came down. Then Sophie landed true, absorbing both of their weights decisively, all the time maintaining her balance. Tom's balls ached from the sudden impact, cutting short his arousal.

"That's a goal tend," cried Lauren with a smile. "Shot counts!"

Tom felt Sophie bend forward and gently place his feet on the ground, gracefully dismounting him. Then she gave him a smile and a high five. Elle did the same with Lauren, albeit both almost fell down in the process. Elle walked to the grass to grab her shirt and phone.

"Oh crap, my mom wanted me home thirty minutes ago!" Elle exclaimed, looking at her phone. "Can one of you guys drive me home?"

"Sophie and I actually need to run to Staples to get some supplies for our European History project before it closes. I can drive."

"Why don't I hang back, Lauren?" Sophie demurred. "I can get the slides started to save us some time. If we finish early enough, maybe we can watch a couple episodes of Emily in Paris. I hear the chef character is super sexy."

Tom's heart stopped He had never been alone with Sophie before.

"Great idea, Sophie!" Lauren agreed.

"I'll do my best to keep your dad out of trouble," Sophie joked.

"Ha!" Lauren responded as she began walking toward her Camry. As she passed her dad, she whispered emphatically, "Be nice!"

Tom responded with a "Who me?" gesture.

Despite playing along with the lighthearted exchange, Tom was distressed. How would he maintain his composure? He would need to extricate himself quickly. He decided that needing to go take a shower was his best excuse. As he turned to head back to the house, he noticed his shirt was gone from where he left it on the lawn. He looked toward the house and saw Sophie was holding it balled up in her hand as she opened the side door to enter.

That conniving bitch, he thought to himself, shaking his head. He resolved to talk to her and straighten things out. These games had to end. He thought about the best way to confront her as he walked to the door.

As he stepped inside, he saw Sophie standing next to the kitchen island, tipping a bottle of Powerade into her mouth. Some of the red liquid was dripping down the sides of her chin and onto her shirt.

The pose reminded him of the classic Cindy Crawford Pepsi commercial. God she looked sexy, he thought, momentarily forgetting his plan to confront her. He began to feel a slight arousal.

When she finished her gulp, she turned and extended her arm to pass him the bottle. He reflexively took it and began drinking, feeling a sense of camaraderie in sharing the beverage. Upon finishing his sip, he screwed up his courage and looked at her.

"I have a question," he started as she cocked her head slightly. "Why don't you ever address me directly? It's always 'your dad' this or 'Thumper' that."

He felt relieved to get it off his chest.

"That's funny, I could ask you the same thing," Sophie responded haughtily. "Other than the first time you shook my hand - and right now - you haven't spoken to me directly, either."

He thought for a moment and realized she was right. He was suddenly ashamed of himself. In objectifying her and putting her on a pedestal, he had subconsciously been guilty of the same offense he accused her of.

Then she looked over his shoulder and continued mockingly as if he weren't there.

"Not that he says much in the first place. And Thumper always seems to be a bit petrified around me. If he would just lighten up and get to know me, he'd learn what a kind and generous friend I can be. I'd give my left foot for a friend - heck, I'd give both feet - if only he'd learn to ask."

He winced as she shamed him for his strange behavior around her.

"Sorry, I guess I'll have to fix that," he responded sheepishly. "Here's a start. Can you please stop calling me Thumper?"

"Okay, I won't call you Thumper," she replied with a wry smile.

"And can I have my shirt back?"

"Aww," she pouted while looking at the balled-up shirt in her hand. "Would it make you feel better if I had mine off too?"

He stood speechless as she pulled her shirt over her head. Her bare skin and sexy sports bra appeared again. Her nipples were hard and he felt a rush in his loins.

"Well, maybe you can have it back. But first I have a question. Why have you been avoiding me after games?"

He visibly flinched at being called out again. Was he that obvious?

"I've actually been getting behind at work," he answered haltingly, then added optimistically, "at least I've been there cheering."

"Yet you seem to have plenty of time for Tom Brady," she retorted accusingly. "Well, okay you can have it...." she held it out to him, "if you can reach it!" she added with a grin, raising it in the air above his head while looking at him expectantly.

He became immediately suspicious.

"Nuh, uh. Not gonna fall for that one."

"I guess I could just tell Lauren you weren't nice to me," she said sarcastically, implying she had heard Lauren's parting instruction to him. But the threat was clear.

"Fine, I'll try to get it. Then I'm going to go take a shower."

He raised an arm and leapt up. Sophie easily raised it out of his reach, laughing mockingly. Then he tried again, this time with both arms, but with the same result. While he resented playing her game, the act of height comparison and sense of helplessness turned him on even further. His cock hardened while his hormones began to course through his veins.

"God, you're tall," he blurted out, succumbing to his fascination with her height.

"Don't you mean Goddess?" she laughed.

Tom flushed as she turned the phrase back on him. And because she somehow put into words how he secretly saw her.

"Want to hear something cool?" she asked, then continued without waiting for an answer, "My stats online are a bit out of date...I'm just about 6'5" now. Apparently, I'm still growing a little," she laughed.

To his horror, his wayward cock bobbed visibly at the revelation. She looked down at his crotch with a smirk.

"And apparently, little Thumper is too."

His face turned crimson with embarrassment. He realized her pledge to not call him Thumper had been a ruse. Thumper had always been her nickname for his cock, not for him. She had also directly acknowledged his erection for the first time. Despite his prick poking into her several times before, it had seemed like an unwritten pact not to speak of it. Breaking that pact felt like a safety net being breeched and he experienced a falling sensation. Things seemed to be escalating fast and he was losing what little control he had of the situation.

"I really should go take a shower so I can get back to my work," he mumbled in a feeble attempt to rein things in. But his body belied his words, as he made no show of leaving.

"Okay..." she appeared to concede, then added, "if you try one more time." She dangled the shirt enticingly toward him.

Yielding to her appeal, he raised both hands and jumped, but this time she stepped toward him as she raised the t-shirt. He missed the shirt and landed awkwardly, with his cock poking her lower thigh and his face buried in her armpit. He could feel her wetness on his nose and he caught a whiff of her pungent sweat. She wasn't wearing deodorant. It was the same familiar scent that drove him wild, yet it was as if it had been distilled to its quintessence. He drank in her pheromones and instinctively recognized that her pussy must share the same deep scent. He shuddered as his cock spontaneously humped at her leg.

"How's that smell?" she laughed with a quick exhale through her nose.

Awakened from his stupor, he feigned a cringe and backed away, trying to disavow the immense arousal her armpit had given him. Extricating himself from her had taken incredible willpower. He struggled to find a suitable answer and before he could speak, she tossed his shirt high on top of a kitchen cabinet and walked away.

"Anyway, I really need to start the slides for Lauren and my project on the French Revolution."

He felt sudden relief, but also disappointment, as she swept away the haze of sexual tension. He marveled at her capacity to hold him tantalizingly in thrall, seemingly at will. He was also grateful for her ability to move on from intense and inappropriate situations as if nothing had happened. Any one of dozens of improper moments he had shared with her could have meant doomsday for him, yet she was so nonchalant about it all. She could ease his fears as fast as she could instill them.

Sophie walked to the kitchen counter and pulled a laptop out of a large leather handbag. Then she strode into the adjoining living room, sat down on the couch and propped her legs up on the ottoman with her shoes hanging off the end. Finally, she pulled a pillow onto her lap, balanced the computer on it and flipped open the screen. He took that as his cue to leave.

"Well, I'm going to hit the showers. That was fun!" he said, trying to follow her nonchalant approach.

"Ugh, my shoulders are sore," she said dramatically. She looked back at him as she reached a hand up and rubbed the bottom of her neck while rolling her shoulder muscles in a shrug. "I could really use an assist here, teammate."

It took another strong dose of willpower for Tom to resist.

"That wouldn't really be appropriate now, would it?" Tom challenged in an uncertain voice.

"You were the one riding on my shoulders that made them sore," she retorted.