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Alexis Ren

It was my senior year playing women’s basketball at a State College. My name is Lindy Clarke and I was one of the starting five.

We were a good team, but a little short to excel in the conference playoff tournament–just suburban girls having a good time. We all could dribble, and pass and play defense, but we were outmatched in spite of our athleticism and good coaching.

I am blond and five foot seven–too short to play forward, but I did anyway. We had only one girl over 6 feet tall.

We had played the other teams throughout the year and beaten only one of them. City College is exactly what it sounds– not so good academically, but with big tall, fast players. Thankfully, we only play them if we beat our first rival, which is an all women’s school with a reputation for lesbians.

As far as I knew, we didn’t have any lesbians on our team. That was a source of pride for us, because many of us were religious girls, from typical suburban families. None of us were comfortable with the stereotype that women athletes get. I think we all want to have the house with the white picket fence, kids and a husband.

Our Head Coach JoAnn Wagner, for example, is happily married. Her assistant Coach Bryan Lynch was a top professional male basketball prospect who had a drinking problem. He really should have made the pros, but that is too late now.

We rode three loaded minivans to the hotel Friday afternoon in early Spring. Each coach had to drive a vehicle. We were excited to travel to the tournament, but we feared defeat and getting stuck in the consolation game.

I was staying in a room with Lucy, Wyla, and Raelynn. Each room had two queen beds, so we stayed four to a room, plus the coaches each got their own room.

Raelynn is a country girl who is a great shooter. Everybody knows her boyfriend drove up and is getting a separate room at the hotel. She jokes that they copulate like rabbits, except before a big game.

Our game with Women’s College was to start at 7:00 p.m., so we barely had time to unpack, get dinner and then change. We were all nervous because we were afraid of losing. Coach Wagner told us to create fast breaks, and run-and-gun. That meant it would be a tough night for me.

During warm-ups we saw the girls, and I was reminded of how big the girls were. I was intimidated watching the tall, masculine girls. One of their best players, a senior, was no longer injured. She sat-out our last encounter, so now, they were even more formidable. Her name was Connie Cupp, but we gave her the nickname C-Cup because she had big boobs on such a tall skinny frame.

We sized them up, watching their bad haircuts, tattoos, and sloppy look, trying to get encouragement that they weren’t ready to play. Connie wasn’t so disheveled after all.

By the opening tip-off, it was clear that we were outsized. Four of their starters were over 6 feet tall including Connie, who was 6 feet 2 inches. In spite of my height, she was assigned to defend me. Their team was very physical, defending hard, and went up strong for lay-ups and boards. We quickly fell behind by 8 points as they blocked several passes and shots. Connie was punishing me every time I got the ball.

One time I charged the lane and ended up with my head stuffed into her ample chest. Talk about embarrassing! I fell on top of her with my face smothered in her cleavage, right in between her the boobs. It was such an awkward fall, seeming more like we were wrestling than playing basketball. It took a minute to get back up and untangle.

Strangely, the referee didn’t even call a foul. As we got up, Connie taunted me, saying “Did you enjoy with your head in between my tits?”

“We’re going to kick your butt,” I said in stupid defiance. Unfortunately, I awoke the sleeping giant.

At the first chance to sit, Coach Wagner reminded me that I’d have to steal passes and drive the lane myself. I sat for just a minute and then I re-entered to get a fast break lay-up. Lucy and I both made 3-pointers and the teams were tied up at 14 each.

The next time I got the ball, I got molested. It’s not a figure of speech! Connie was reaching her hand under a stroking my butt crack.

It certainly was distracting, but I figured she’d get a foul called. Wrong again! Connie began a reign of lesbian terror, and the refs just watched.

I lost the ball, and they scored. She became more forward on the next possession. She actually reached up under my crotch like a football quarterback waiting for the hike. She touched my pussy over my uniform, and I couldn’t believe it, cursing at her. Her tickle and probing was obviously to provoke me into losing my cool, and playing badly.

In front of huge crowd, she was shaming me. I wonder how many people saw me jolt up when I got poked ‘down there’.

I went to the referee and told her that she was touching my privates. She said that she was calling a loose game. She quickly dismissed my complaint, saying she didn’t call güvenilir bahis my charges and fouls, but if it got too bad, she’d keep an eye on it.

Connie started talking trash too. Connie would say, “Wow, Lindy, you’re really pretty” or “Too bad you’re not gay.”

The second quarter was better. At least we scored more, Raelynn had some big shots. The opponent’s big girls got tired and we even got some rebounds! But I was still at the mercy of a huge lesbian with wandering hands.

The next time I got the ball Connie reached right in and pinched one of my nipples, holding it for several seconds. Ouch!

I couldn’t believe the abuse I was expected to take. I told the coach what was happening, but she insisted that we weren’t defending aggressively or forcing turnovers, and rebounds.

At half time it was 40-36 in their favor. I was glad for the chance to sit, and see if other girls had the same problem with dirty defense, but nobody else did. Eventually one or two fouls got called, but not enough to put Connie in foul trouble. Incredibly, I had 3 fouls called on me for minor infractions.

We came out flat in the 3rd quarter. I felt like I had to do everything. I scored a few points, but we were not playing team ball. Both teams started missing shots. If it wasn’t for the free throws we’d have been hopelessly behind by the end of the third quarter. The score was 57-47.

In the fourth quarter, Connie was really laying it on extra heavy. “You are so hot! I am imaging you naked, right now,” I think she was distracting herself because I broke into the corner for a 3-pointer. “You are so beautiful, Lindy. Have you ever made love to woman?”

I’m not sure why, but what bothered me was that she started calling me by first name.

Eventually, we lost 71-65 and we were doomed to the consolation game on Saturday afternoon. At the end of the game when everybody on their team was hugging each other, several of their players were kissing each other on the lips. Gross! We knew about their reputation, but it was so blatant.

We all went back to our hotel rooms watched TV for a few minutes, then went to sleep. No celebration for us. And tomorrow we had to play one more game that didn’t matter to anyone.

The next day we were just going through the motions getting breakfast, knowing that our game today didn’t really matter. We played our consolation game in the afternoon against Polytech and won. It was easy as we rolled to a 70-44 score. Maybe they were going through the motions, too.

I think I was so angry about the previous game that I got motivated. I scored 25 points, but fouled out. I guess I was just pissed off. How dare they accuse me of being a dirty player! One girl on Polytech even called me a lesbian. Bitch! She must have been watching our last game, and wanted to get me riled up. We went back to our locker room to shower and change. Unfortunately we attracted spectators. Players from Women’s College came in to dress, preparing for their tournament final against City College, but they just congregated stand, watching us shower. They stood there, saying rude things to us.

“Just admiring the view!” one of them shouted. I turned my back on them and quickly finished washing up, embarrassed by my nudity. “Hey, nice ass, Lesbo!” shouted another one.

I shut down the water and grabbed my towel, only to turn around and see Connie. She must have gotten an eyeful of me and my naked teammates.

“I wanted to apologize for yesterday, Lindy,” Connie said. I admit that she made me confused. She was the first one I expected to be the rude, aggressive lesbian, intent on making me feel uncomfortable. But she wasn’t today.

“What for?” I asked, squirming in my skimpy gym towel. Having lesbians in the locker room, was like having co-ed men/women showers. “This isn’t really the place for a conversation,” I scolded.

Connie’s answer surprised me. “It was unfair, and I’m surprised the ref didn’t call a foul on me. You played another amazing game tonight. In fact, so far, you are the leading scorer for the entire tournament.”

I was shocked that nobody matched my point totals. I certainly wasn’t going to win MVP, for a losing team, but I had to feel proud of what I accomplished.

But what I was impressed that she actually apologized. I was nearly speechless in my nearly naked embarrassment, just grunting, “Ok, no problem, whatever.” I tightened up my towel and left the showers to quickly dress at my locker.

We went to the hotel for dinner and to pack. Since the mood of the team was lousy, and dejected for getting eliminated, Coach Wagner decided to take one van home early, and they figured they could be home back at our college just past midnight. Only a few of the girls wanted to stay and watch the Tournament Finals with Women’s College and City College. Only 4 of us requested to stay and ride back with Assistant Coach Lynch. Coach Wagner told us that we could leave anytime on Sunday. I helped everyone get türkçe bahis packed and on the road by 9:00 p.m. told them that I catch up with them the next day.

Raelynn disappeared behind closed doors with her boyfriend, and Lucy, Wyla and I were supposed to return with Coach Lynch, but nobody could find him. He didn’t meet up for dinner, so we all expected to drive back in the morning.

I sat with Lucy and Wyla in the bleachers watching the final game. Strangely, I found myself rooting for Women’s College. We all did. Somehow you always root for the devil you know. I kept watching Connie to see if she tried any dirty tricks, curious to see from stands what I looked like getting my privates tickled in plain public view. However, I was surprised that she didn’t molest the other player today. I guess the referees called a tight game tonight, calling every minor infraction, and fouling out some big players. I remembered how C-Cup had a apologized, as I emerged from the shower. It showed class, despite her previous misdeeds.

City College won the game 66-58. Lucy and Wyla left to go to the hotel room in the 4th quarter. I stayed until the end to see if anybody outscored me in the tournament. I ended up 2nd in the tournament in scoring, and I was fairly proud of myself. I called my parents on my cell phone to tell them the good news.

As I got back to my room, in the late evening, I was just planning to watch TV and go to bed. Instead, I entered to the shocking discovery of Lucy and Wyla naked in bed with each other. They were face-to-face in the missionary position, having lesbian sex with each other. Lucy was dangling her boobs against Wyla’s. They must have heard me enter the room, but they were mesmerized by each other, fucking their brains out! They didn’t bother to stop, so I just shut the door again.

I was totally shocked and hurt, so I just fled, not knowing where I could go. I wondered how long they’d been gay, or what pleasure they obtain in that position. They just proved me wrong in the thought that we were all normal. I thought our team didn’t have lesbians.

I went down to the weight room. I figured that was a good place to blow off some steam. I was wearing tight yoga clothes, which was alright for exercising, even if it did display all my curves.

I looked out at the swimming pool and watched a lone female swimmer swim laps quietly. The tall, thin woman cut gracefully and efficiently in the water. She was wearing a skimpy neon orange bikini. I watched unnoticed appreciating her muscles and athletic body. “Swimmer’s body,” I muttered to myself as I looked at her tan lines, and sleek, slender form.

I watched about 5 minutes and then the swimmer finished her laps and noticed me. I finally recognized that it was Connie Cupp. She waded over to the pool ladder to exit. Her breasts were spilling out of the suit. I was having boob-envy. I wish mine were perfect like that.

Since I had nothing better to do, I talked to her. “Connie, this seems like a strange place for you at 11 p.m. on a Saturday night.” I said mockingly.

“My muscles were tight and there was nobody to massage me.” she replied flirtingly. “I used to be a swimmer in high school. I only played basketball because I am so tall. Unlike you, I was never sure I had the talent for basketball.”

“I got plenty of overly-intimate massage from you during our game.” I countered sarcastically. “I can’t believe they never called any foul on you. I think having a male referee enjoyed watching you abuse me. I can’t believe you got away with that shit.”

“Look Kelly, I wasn’t trying to make you mad. You proved that you are a great player, because always impact the game. I was just trying to contain you and I went a little too far. I apologized when I saw you in the shower, and I am sincere. I hope you can forgive me,” she said pleadingly. I blushed when I thought about the shower scene, naked on parade for a dozen lesbians.

I looked at her to gauge her sincerity and sighed. She returned the glance, watching my expression until I sighed. She extended her wet hand for a handshake and said, “Friends?”

“I don’t know about that, Connie.” I retorted skeptically, but she laughed and I smiled too. I shook her hand anyway.

“So…why are you down here?” she inquired. “Didn’t some of your team go back home?”

I explained about our drunk assistant coach who got the car impounded. We later found out that he had taken the van out and went drinking. He got a DUI and the van was impounded. It may be Monday before we could get the van.

Then I about the shocking lesbian behavior of my teammates.

“Wow, was it hot?” she asked provocatively.

“Very funny, Connie. No, I just didn’t know we had gay women on our team. It was a total surprise and now I can’t exactly go back up there and bust in on their love fest.”

Connie appraised me and gave me a sincere look. “Look, I understand. They are monopolizing your room. You can crash in my room. No güvenilir bahis siteleri hanky panky. I’ve got an extra bed. The other girls left for home already.”

“Are you hitting on me, Connie?” I asked.

“Actually, I want to be your friend,” she answered. “I admire you. You have everything.” I squirmed uncomfortably under the flattery.

“Connie, don’t get weird.”

“Our coach spent so much time prepping me to defend you. I watched films of your driving lay-ups and passes, but in the game I didn’t really stop you at all. You are a superstar!…And you’re gorgeous!

“And I’m straight.” I blurted out, staring at her huge bosoms in that wet bikini top.

“You don’t have to convince me,” Connie said winking. “But aren’t you enjoying the view?

“What are you talking about?” I protested, realizing that I was looking at her body. I reassured myself, repeating in my mind that I am not a lesbian.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” she pried.

“No, so what?” I said evasively.

“All your best friends are women athletes with short haircuts. Do you own any high heeled shoes or nice dresses? Or jewelry? Do you paint your fingernails?” she asked, peppering more questions to make me feel awkward.

Busted on every count. “What does that imply?”

“I am sorry, Lindy. Just a hunch, but I should lay off. Come on up to my room and we can hang out watching TV. I need to shower,” said Connie. Even though I was irritated I went with her, having no place to go. I blew off plans to lift weights, and I just followed her to the hotel room.

“You can have that bed,” she said pointing to the one without suitcases on it. “You are sleeping here, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I answered pathetically. I didn’t have any of my luggage to get pajamas, so Connie handed me a t-shirt to sleep in. “What are you doing after graduation?” she inquired.

“I dunno, Connie.” I said. “I’d like to keep working in sports. I can’t imagine getting an office job.”

“I am applying for a job coaching the swim team at your campus at State College next year. I am finishing my Education Degree this semester. Could I ask you to write a reference for me?”

“As long as you don’t seduce your students.”

“Maybe we could be roommates. Think about it, if you would…You could apply to be the Assistant Basketball Coach. I bet Coach Lynch gets fired, and you’d be perfect for that opening.”

“That actually is a great idea for me! I might just do that,” I conceded, smiling broadly. I felt like kissing her. “Just when I underestimate you, you always surprise me.”

Then Connie said, “Ok, I will be right back,” and left me watching TV while she went into the bathroom. Meanwhile as she showered, I undressed down to my panties, and put on the night shirt she gave me. I was seated on the bed with my back propped-up against pillows watching TV. I just sat mindlessly watching the Comedy Channel until she came out.

When she left the bathroom, she was totally naked, except a towel wrapped in a bun on her head. I gulped as I watched her statuesque body on blatant display.

Her breasts looked even bigger when she was nude. I was staring and couldn’t stop myself. I was like a deer caught in her headlights. Her nipples were on high-beams, bright pink and hard.

“Whatchu looking at, straight girl?” teased Connie, raising her hands to dry her hair. She looked amazing and I looked away, blushing. It was then that I realized that my pussy was moist. This arousal was troubling for me because it challenged my self-image as a heterosexual. And right now I struggled to think of the last man I lusted after.

Then she walked over toward the bed and asked, “Do I make you nervous?” Her complete nudity made me very shaky, as she sat down on the bed close to me.

I couldn’t answer. I sat with my eyes cast down, watching her with my peripheral vision. She extended a hand and placed it on my leg. I did nothing to evade her warm touch. We both she realized it. She slowly pushed her hand up my leg.

My fear of doing something shameful was conflicting with my nervous desire to be touched.

“I’m glad you’re here Lindy,” she purred.

I watched her hand slide up to against my crotch over my panties. Her fingertips danced lightly on the fabric tickling my vagina lips. I stayed passive while she stroked up and down until I was leaking feminine juices. “Do you like that, Lindy?”

She massaged my vagina like this for many minutes until she earnestly looked me in the eye. She took my hand and placed it on her own nipple. I softly pinched it, passing the point of no return. I enjoyed the sensation of touching another woman’s tit. I couldn’t stop tugging and tickling her nipple, slowly becoming bolder. She answered by making an “Mmm” noise, as if she were eating dessert.

She resumed her ministrations between my legs, and I exhaled audibly. I felt my blood burning with delirious pleasure as she caressed my pussy more energetically. My hips started to push against her hand, to increase the sexual pressure.

At times I felt strange about having a woman turn me on so much. I laughed or felt nervous at odd moments, but truthfully I was happy to have the ice broken.

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