The Basketball Player

woke early and got dressed. Well, some people wouldn't call it dressed, but the point is that I got ready. It was Father's Day, and I had a special present for my husband, one he'd never gotten before. You might say it was a home-made gift, and as with any home-made gift, presentation was everything.

We had been up late the night before, Patrick, my husband, had brought home company. I wasn't really expecting any visitors...but when I saw who he'd brought, well, let's just say I'm the forgiving type. He'd met this individual on a plane, and I was very excited to meet him. My husband knows a lot of important people, but very few of those people are in sports. This new friend, Brian, played professional basketball. I don't think I'd ever met a man that tall before. Standing well over seven feet, he moved with a grace I'd not have expected from one so big!

At any rate, we hit it off right from the start. Brian was very gracious, and very attentive. I knew from the first moment he took my hand in his that he was going to be a great lover, but I had no idea how much I'd enjoy this athlete until later that night. I'm not a very big woman, and my five foot five inches, seemed even smaller next to Brian. His hand was bigger than my entire face!

They arrived home around seven that night. We had planned to go to a club and have a few drinks, maybe dance a bit and then make an early night of it. In the back of my mind, I was concentrating on Father's Day, and knew that it would be a full day. I was sure I'd appreciate the rest the night before. But once Patrick and Brian arrived, the whole evening changed.

"Rachael, I want you to meet Brian West. He plays basketball for...well, I guess it doesn't matter who he plays for...does it?"

"Hello, Brian. My husband is such a chauvinist. He thinks women don't know anything about sports."

"When a woman is as beautiful as you are," he said taking my hand in his, "she doesn't need to understand sports."

"How kind of you to say that! But I'm afraid he's right. I don't know much about basketball."

"There's not much to know, sweetie," Patrick interjected, "you just take a round ball and put it into a round hole."

"That's a bit of a simplification, Patrick, but it is a pretty accurate description of what I do." Brian said with a smile. I couldn't help but notice what a pretty smile he had. His teeth were so white, in contrast to his dark skin.

Patrick looked at me with a certain sense of appreciation. I'd already dressed for the evening. Since we were going to party a bit, I'd selected one of Patrick's favorite outfits. It was entirely black. A fitting choice, in view of our new friend. I was wearing a black silk dress, cut low in the back, with a knee length skirt. It was obvious from the back that I wasn't wearing a bra, of course, it was obvious from the front as well. The silk of the bodice hugged my form like the skin of a grape. My large 38DD breasts were prominent, but equally prominent were my firm, hard nipples. Patrick calls them bullet nips, because he says they're the size and firmness of a .38 slug. He showed me the bullet he referred to once, and I must agree, without the metal part, my nipples and a .38 slug are about the same size.

Patrick hates panty hose, so I'd chosen a pair of silk stockings, with a delicate spider web pattern, held on by garters. Now, your wife will tell you, garters are a pain in the ass...but he likes them and I feel really sexy when I have them on. To make the outfit even sexier, I wore a very thin pair of bikini panties, more for effect than protection. There was practically no back on them, and the front couldn't completely cover my pussy. But again, I was dressing for my man, not for comfort or style.

I'd chosen a pair of open toe pumps...black of course, with almost a four inch heel. I was ready to party! After a couple of drinks...so was everyone else. When we were ready to leave, Brian took my arm and escorted me to the car. He opened the front door for me, but I told him he could ride up front, that I'd get in the back. That made sense to me, he would need more leg room than I would. Besides, I had a plan in mind for this boy...and he'd need be in front of me to enjoy what I had in mind.

As we drove to the club Patrick and Brian and I chatted, mostly about nothing. Then I asked Patrick about his trip.

"Oh, nothing special. I met a rather attractive blonde in Atlanta. She works for the company that hired me to give the seminar."

"Really? What did she look like?"

"Nice looking. Firm tits. You know...the kind of woman I tend to find attractive."

"Was she good in bed?" I asked this question with the same inflection a person might ask about dinner, or the weather. I glanced toward Brian and noticed the surprise registered on his face.

"Oh, she was all right. Couldn't suck a cock as well as you, but her pussy was pretty tight. There was one thing I did especially like about her, though."

"And what was that?"

"She didn't wear any underwear. Ever. She told me she didn't even own any!"

Brian still hadn't said a word. It was as if he were used to men telling their wives about women they'd been fucking a week ago. I thought this was the perfect opening for what I wanted to do.

"Well, I don't wear a bra. Doesn't that count?"

"Of course it counts, sweetie, but you do were under panties, now don't you?"

"Isn't that just like a man, Brian? Never satisfied. Here, hand these to Patrick for me, will you?" As the tall man turned to take what I wanted him to hand to my husband, he got his eye full of me, pulling my skirt up, and stripping off my panties. His face registered what he saw. I must have made quite a sight, my legs lifted, one after the other to the seat as I "stepped" out of my lace black panties. I made no effort to cover my pussy, in fact, quite the opposite. I even parted my legs a bit before pushing the skirt back down, allowing our new friend a nice glimpse of what I knew was a sparkling, glistening pink morsel of fine pussy. Brian took the panties from my hand and almost without conscious thought, brought them to his nose. I watched as he inhaled the crotch, and knew that not only could he catch the faint aroma of my pussy, but that his nose told him the dampness in the crotch area was pure sexual arousal!

"Here," he said to my husband, handing him my panties.

"No, you keep them," I said as an afterthought. "You look like a man who appreciates mementos."

"I'll treasure them always! The scent will linger in my mind forever."

He put the panties inside his coat pocket. I knew he was hooked!

2

We got to the club about twenty minutes later. It was located in the next city over from where we live. Patrick doesn't mind partying, but really doesn't want to party with someone who may show up at our door the next day. For that reason, we do most of our playtime out of town. The bar we were going to was in a hotel, and it was one we'd had fun in before. I was glad he'd chosen that particular place. Patrick got us a table near the dance floor. He doesn't care much about dancing, but loves to watch me. Dance that is. For that matter, he loves to watch me do almost anything. Strike the "almost." Patrick loves to watch me do everything!

We had ordered drinks, and I realized how out of place we must have looked. Here we were, in a southern city, in a hotel bar, and what a trio we made. Patrick is well built, usual height and weight, and sports a very sexy beard! I'm a fairly attractive woman, or so I'm told, and I realized I was dressed in a very sexy manner. I was decent, but just barely. Men have often told me that while I looked like a respectable woman when they first see me, after a while another side of me starts to surface, and soon, they're not sure if it's lady or whore they're talking to. Trust me...it's whore!

Alone we made an attractive couple, but add Brian, a completely perfect athlete, muscular, well developed, seven foot four in height, and black as the ace of spades, and you can imagine the picture we made. I sat between the two guys, sharing my attention equally. After we'd sat through half a dozen songs, Brian asked if I danced.

"Yeah, but Patrick doesn't. So I usually don't." I answered shyly, and very out of character.

"Oh. I see." Brian, for all his aggressiveness on the basketball court wasn't very aggressive as we three sat in that bar that night. I was getting a bit frustrated by the whole thing, and I was starting to think I'd been wrong about my plans for an exciting evening. I excused myself to go to the restroom. Patrick stood to let me pass him, and as I did I whispered in his ear, "Can't you liven him up some?" I said that quietly, but my husband heard me. I squeezed his cock as I went by, to accent my statement.

I made my way to the restroom. The real problem about women's rooms is the stalls are always full. I walked over to the make up mirror, to check for damage, and took a seat on the left of a woman who seemed to be doing the same thing. She was a knock-out! Dressed in white, complete with white leather gloves, this very tall blonde, (I would guess about 5'9" or 5'10") sat in front of the mirror tracing her lips with a liner. I probably looked at her longer than I should have because she noticed I was staring. Without looking at me, but rather at my reflection in the mirror, she continued to fix her lips. Finally, she pulled the liner away from her mouth, and glanced in my direction, again through the reflection in the mirror.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Oh, no. Sorry. You're very pretty, and I was just watching you put on your lips." I realized how lame that sounded as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

"Thank you. I don't usually get many compliments from other ladies."

"No, but I'll bet you knock the men dead!"

"Some I do, some I don't."

"Ah, come on. What man wouldn't hit on you?"

"You'd be surprised. A lot of men are intimidated by a tall woman," she replied.

I put out my hand. "Hi. My name's Rachael."

Taking it she replied, "My name's Jan."

We both giggled. I reached for my mascara, and started applying it to my eye lashes. Jan continued the conversation.

"I saw you out there with the two guys."

"Oh, yeah, Patrick and Brian."

"You married to one of them?"

"Yeah. Patrick."

Jan looked at me incredulous. "I hate to state the obvious, but I don't know which one is Patrick."

"Oh, I am sorry, Jan. I wasn't thinking. He's the shorter one."

"Honey, you can't be that thick. Is he the white or the black one?"

"Oh, how stupid of me. The white one. I'm sorry, I didn't understand.

"No problem. And what's the story on the other guy?"

"He's a friend of my husband. He's a pro basketball player."

"No shit! Who's he play for?"

I told her, and told her his full name. "NO SHIT! Oh, Rachael, you've got to introduce me!"

"Okay, I will. Are you a fan of his?"

"Am I! I've fucked twelve basketball players so far. That's less than half the number of football or baseball players I've done. Oh, please do introduce me. I'll be your friend for life! I'll do anything you ask!"

"Anything?"

"Well....almost anything. I mean I wouldn't butt fuck an ape, but almost anything...yeah."

Now, I'm not one to pass an opportunity, and this was an opportunity. But before I went on with my plans, I thought I'd better check this girl out.

"Anything is a big promise." I said gently.

"You don't know how bad I want to meet him!"

I sat back in the chair I was sitting in. Reaching again inside my purse, I withdrew a small vial of perfume. Still without saying anything, I applied a drop to both my wrists, rubbing them together. Next I placed a drop behind my stocking clad legs, at the knee. Then, vial still in my hand, I lifted up the skirt of my dress, pulling it back toward my waist. Jan was across from me, our knees not six inches apart.

"Would you, please?" I said, handing the vial of perfume to Jan, and then sitting back. What a sight I must have made, my skirt hiked up to my waist, my pantiless pussy spread open, and a woman I'd just met looking at my naked cunt! But I knew what I wanted...and I knew she wanted it too!

Without a verbal answer, Jan opened the top of the bottle. She allowed a drop of the cologne to collect on her finger tip, and then leaned forward, placing her hand on the upmost portion of my inner thigh. She was less than an inch from my steamy moist pussy. Her eyes met mine. I could see the question in them. I gave the slightest of nods, but that was all she needed. Jan leaned forward just a bit as her hand slid closer to my secret place. Then, without further urging, I felt her finger touch me, flick across my clit. She wasn't applying perfume to me, she was getting ready to finger fuck me! And I wanted it. I wanted it bad! Before I knew what happened, she was inside me, inside my hot cunt, twirling her finger around, looking for, and finding, my G spot!

At first contact, I thought I would faint, right there, right then! I had no control over the situation. One minute before, this woman had been a total stranger to me, now she was pushing her middle finger into my cunt, making me lose all semblance of dignity while I felt her dig deeper, looking for the spot which would cause me to collapse at her mercy. And she found it! Only a woman can make a woman come that fast! Or that hard!

"Come for me, Rachael! Come on my finger!"

"Ohhhhh!" I searched for words, for a way to beg her to stop, and for a way to beg her not to...And then I felt myself coming...like a freight train in the distance, I heard the whistle, and I knew it would rush over me, and I didn't care! I didn't care when the door to the women's room opened, and I didn't care when a woman I'd never seen before stood there, eyes wide with disbelief as another woman finger fucked a third with abandon! The stranger turned and literally ran inside a stall and slammed the door behind her. Tough shit, lady..."Ohhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I'm commmmminnng!"

I collapsed on Jan's hand, squeezing my legs together, trapping her ringed finger inside my hot cunt! I never wanted her finger to leave me, to vacate the pussy she'd just had her way with. Her gentle voice brought me back to reality.

"I hope you liked that Rachael. Now, will you introduce me to Brian? I think I have something for him as well!"

3

I promised Jan I'd introduce her to Brian. What else could I do? After all, she'd pegged me right from the start as a whore. Women can tell those things about other women, and I could have foreseen how she was had I been paying attention. I was so hot about wanting to fuck and suck this giant black guy that I hadn't paid much attention to the things going on around me.

I went back to the table. When I returned, both men stood, and as I resumed my position in the middle, I squeezed Patrick's cock again. It was considerably harder than when I left, and I knew something had transpired. I no sooner sat when the DJ started playing a slow song.

"Care to dance, Rachael?" Brian asked.

"Love to!" I replied. Glancing at my husband I added,

"You don't mind, do you?" It was merely a formality. I knew he wanted to watch me dance with this new guy, hell, I knew he wanted to watch me fuck this new guy. The dance was at the very most a formality.

"Of course not. I was just telling Brian how talented you are. At dancing. He'll tell you."

We made quite a sight on the floor. Brian looked tall just because he was. But holding me, a very small white woman against him, made him seem even bigger. Even in heels, I was almost two feet shorter than him. And I couldn't wait till the heels were off, along with the rest of my clothing!

He was a remarkably good dancer. Actually, he did all the dancing, I just kind of melted into him, let him move me however he wanted. I was trying to get across the idea to him that I could be extremely cooperative. As we danced, he held me very tightly...much tighter than I'd have thought, given his seemingly shy nature. Something had happened while I was in the women's room. I suspected that Patrick had told him that I could be had. Well, sometimes that's what it takes to get the ball moving...or the balling moving!

"You dance so smoothly," I said.

"I'm a professional athlete. I get paid for knowing the right moves," he replied.

"I'll bet you know a lot of 'right' moves, don't you?"

"A few. But sometimes I get confused, and that's when I get in trouble. Sometimes I'm not sure what he game plan is. You know what I mean?"

I didn't answer him. Instead I just moved in closer, close enough to feel his hard cock as it rubbed across my stomach. I thought I was mistaken at first. Surely to goodness that couldn't be his dick! I had to know for sure. Even though he was leading, I more or less managed to maneuver Brian toward the back of the dance floor. When I was certain no one else was watching us, I took my right hand off his back and slid it between us. And then I felt it and squeezed it for myself. If that wasn't a cock, I was in deep trouble. The man had a snake inside his trousers that had to be damn near a foot long, maybe longer!

"I think you understand the game. But I don't know where we'll play it. That thing in your pants is huge!"

He whispered the words that almost caused me to come right then. "Baby...wait till it's hard!"

4

When the dance was over and we headed back to the table, I noticed Patrick wasn't alone. It wasn't till I got within ten feet that I realized who he was talking to. It was Jan, the blonde from the bathroom. The blonde that had stirred my pussy with her finger till I came! When my husband saw me, he immediately smiled.

"Look who's here, Rachael. Jan. She says she knows you."

I smiled. She wasn't one to be denied. I guess she figured by making a move on my husband, I'd hurry and introduce her to Brian. Well, she was half right. I was excited to see her talking to Patrick, but not for the reasons she thought. I needed to find someone to handle my husband's needs while I satisfied my black cocksman. And at that point, Jan looked like just the woman for the job. I hugged her like we'd not seen each other in years! Of course, Patrick didn't know who she was, or what the relationship was between us. For all he knew, she was just a person I knew. Or at least that's what I thought he thought. Boy, was I ever wrong!

When we sat back down, the sexual tension between the four of us was positively electric. I wanted to see that black beauty...I wanted to see it, touch it, kiss it, suck it, and finally fuck it! I knew it would split me in half, I even considered the fact that a cock that big might kill me, but if it did...well, everyone's got to go sometime...and I want to go getting fucked by a cock as big as my forearm.

"Nice dance. Did you enjoy it?" my husband asked me.

"Oh, yes. Brian showed me a move or two."

"Rachael is being modest. If the dance went well, it was because she's such a smoothie," Brian added.

"Oh, she's a smoothie all right," Jan said, "Rachael, aren't you going to introduce your friend?"

I had no choice. Well, really I wasn't worried. In thirty-five years, I'd never had a man choose another woman instead of me. I've shared a lot of men, for that matter, women too, but I've never been rejected by a man because he'd rather have a different pussy to fuck. I could stand the competition. Stand it...hell, I thrived on it. Nothing gives me more pleasure than to take a man away from his woman, even if only for the night. And the more blatantly I do it...the better I like it. There was one night in Boston that I took a man away from his wife by offering to suck his cock for an hour straight. What made that so remarkable was the man's wife was standing there, next to him, when I made my offer. The bitch almost had a coronary...I could tell by her mannerisms that she hadn't had a cock in her mouth for years, if ever. That's the secret to keeping a man. If you won't suck his dick, why have him?