A nna stopped for traffic lights and tried to concentrate on the directions. That’s harder than you think when you're horny! On days like this, when she had her mind set on sex, almost anything seemed to trigger her. Recalling memories about Shaq, her little adventure with the Latino gang, combined with the stimulating feeling of her bare pussy against the fabric of her shorts had all accumulated and started to improve the blood circulation around certain private areas. And Anna felt her blood was not the only body juice that was streaming well.

This girl was glowing in anticipation! Even on a cold winter's day she would have been sweating.

The fact that one of those Latinos on the freeway had, from a distance, actually resembled Enrique a bit (or was it her sexed-up mind playing tricks?) didn't help. Yeah, they had decided to give each other a little freedom. But she had fallen for his looks in the first place and still had a soft spot for his type. Taste, even BAD taste, doesn't change overnight!

Her crush on her newfound Black Stallion was of a different order still; while she could at least IMAGINE Enrique as the father of her offspring, her new obsession was merely the work of the Selfish Horny Gene inside her.

Soon after her desire had started materializing, she had worked out her strategy and undertaken the first steps. That was after discarding her initial idea to infiltrate the "Lakers Girls," the traditional cheerleader club of the Lakers. She realized she was too famous to make THAT plan work. And besides, she probably would be fucked by all the other players, too, in that case. She wouldn't really mind with most of them, but still...

But it was via those Lakers Girls that Anna got the bulk of the information that she was going to need. Naturally, she started attending as many Lakers’ games as possible, and took every opportunity to socialize with the unofficial players' harem. They turned out to be quite nice girls, really. They couldn't quote Shakespeare or name two South American countries, let alone dance, but they were great at smiling artificially and giving head! They also sucked at saying "NO." Careful interrogations showed Anna that every single one of them had joined the Girls via the same procedure. Now all she had to do was to follow the same recipe...

And it looked like she was a perfect ingredient.

Step one consisted of showing up to cheer the players' cars after a training or match, in scanty textile. Usually, there would be a large group of semi-naked girls crowding around the exit of the Lakers' training centre parking lot. The parade of limos, Rolls, SUVs and Italian sports cars would then drive by at a snail's pace and invite chicks by stopping at their height. One simply had to look plain gorgeous and/or sluttish enough to be noticed.

That part couldn't go wrong in her eyes.

Step two? Step two took place in the backseat and was for most not only a means, but also the eventual goal. Naturally, Anna was no different in that respect, and again had no doubts about the positive outcome. She just had to make sure that only the front car would stop, since this was the Shaqmobile, of the man who had naturally imposed himself to draft his fuck toys first in line.

"SHIT. Why are these damn printouts always so confusing!"

Anna had pulled the car to the side of the road and was trying to locate landmarks on her map... in vain! Normally she was driven wherever she went and didn't have to figure out directions on her own. And it looked like she didn't have much talent for it, either. Or maybe it was just the usual female lack of orientation in our complex 3-D universe. The 2-D map proved challenging enough already, as illustrated by her frustrated sighs.

The sound of ticking against the windshield made her look up.

"Having problems, miss?"

A police officer was peeking inside, through the open window, and probably also into her loose shirt. That was just a guess though, because of the dark glasses he was wearing.

"You know you can't park here, darling."

Anna loved his condescending tone. NOOOOT!

"Oh, hi officer. I'm sorry but I..."

"WAIT! DON'T say anything. Give me your lovely hand, if you don't mind, miss, please?"

"But... what?"

"No worries. Chief McNamara just wants to read your hand. A little hobby of mine."

"Eh, sure... Why not, eh?" [What a moron!]

Chief McNamara pulled Anna's hand through the window and started "reading," with far more stealthy desire than Anna found decent for a law enforcer. He looked more like a hand-fetishist to her, the way he was gently stroking the back of her hand and her palm.

"Miss..?"

"Gradenko."

"Right... Miss Gradenko has no secrets for me. Your lines tell me that you're here to become a Lakers Girl. Am I right or not?"

Anna looked stunned, and didn't need to answer.

"And she is lost. She needs to turn around and go left at the previous crossing if she wants to find the training center."

"How..?"

"Have a good day, miss. The lines look promising; just make sure to always cover your back!"

He turned around before Anna would notice the fun he was having. Little did she know that he brought this act here just about every Wednesday. Each and every week he had to drive out to pick up stranded blondes (not that anybody FORCED him to), like kids that had gotten lost at the beach. And bring them to the Lakers Gods when they descended from their Olympus.

But he wasn't jealous. Every once in a while, he could get a piece of the pie. The Lakers not only brought a lot of money to the city, but also a lot of sex.

Anna drove off, still wondering about the hows and why's, but soon found the right route now. Only minutes later, she mixed with an army of other girls who were going into battle.

As the parade of player-cars approached, the road was lined with a seething tapestry of bright bikini colors, and skin tones from the palest pink to the deepest black. An ear-deafening wave of cheers built up the closer they came, as collective hysteria took hold of the crowd. Girls seemed to lose their minds, some even (intentionally?) their bikini-tops as the first cars drove by, slowing down to better inspect the assorted meats. The sound and excitement were soon becoming almost unbearable, and started to pull more and more girls into downright delirium.

Anna stood out, as she remained calm and composed. She was tried and tested against several kinds of hysteria, mostly involving hordes of teenage boys. It all passed above her head, and she felt superior to the chaotic armada of bimbos and cheap amateur whores around her. She had everything to be a true beacon of class and natural beauty in a turbulent sea of future also-rans.

This was going to be easier than she could have hoped!

Although it may have looked like a formality, tennis had taught Anna to take no chances. Among chickens, a peacock doesn't need to unfold its tail, but nevertheless he does it anyway! Likewise, she released her long blonde tresses to reveal an awesome golden waterfall, dropped the sweater to better display her tight ass and fit upper legs, and put on her famous bright smile.

With all weapons on edge, nothing could go wrong.

Thus, Anna was only *slightly* worried when the lead car stopped the first time well ahead of her area. She knew it was her target's car. A big black modified van, the license plate started with "SHAQ". The windows were blinded, but she imagined him with his nose pressed against them on the inside, licking his lips while checking out the goods on display.

Surely he had good taste and an eye for quality? There was no reason to panic, Anna told herself.

Nevertheless, she became a little restless next, as a window was pulled down and a pair of ultra-sluttish, large-breasted black bimbos went totally crazy. Apparently, His Greatness was signaling THEM to join him inside!

Anna couldn't believe her eyes when the driver stepped out, with the engine still running, walked around the car and let the hysterical pair into the back. Their exciting screams filtered out of the cacophony as soon as the door closed behind them.

The van quickly picked up speed again and whizzed by... past a dumbfounded and speechless Anna!

Immediately, the Russian could feel the usual frustration build up inside. It looked like she wasn't going to get what she wanted, and this could mean only ONE thing: she was going to SCREAM it out!!

"YOU STUUUUUPID BASTARD!!!"

Anna's head looked like a red beet. It was an outbreak of helpless anger, devoid of any hope. She had traveled all that far, for NOTHING. What a nightmare this day was turning into! What a pitiful life she had! And those NBA stars were all just primitive cavemen!

But about 30 yards further, the van suddenly came to a halt in a cloud of burning rubber, the screeching of brakes ripping through the air. Still in a state of shock, Anna witnessed how the door on the other side was opened and the busty couple was thrown out, protesting loudly. A second later, the driver put the car in reverse and delivered it right in front of our girl.

Once more, the heavy door swung open. This time there was no hysteria and no confusion; as soon as the two babes had entered Shaq's van, the crowd had concentrated on the next in line, leaving Anna alone at her spot.

Had Shark Shaq bitten the bait after all?

As the door opened, the loud tones of a typical second-rate rap song joined the chugging exhaust and the roaring engine. Then everything got silent. For a second or two, Anna stared into the empty blackness. Then she cut the knot and jumped inside, engulfed in total darkness as the door closed behind her.

=> CHAPTER 3

~~~

 

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