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Message-ID: <63581asstr$1446030783@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: RavensDrkGothic@aol.com
Full-name: RavensDrkGothic
Subject: {ASSM} Holiday Tournament
Lines: 252
Date: Wed, 28 Oct 2015 07:13:03 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Holiday  Tournament
 
 Starting  to feel relaxed under the driving spray of the hot shower.  The 
aches and  pains dulling as the heat relaxes the hard worked muscles.  My 
second  shower in the past hour.  The first one hurried to get the sweat off 
my  body not wanting to spend long and listen to the woes of the other girls, 
as  they relive the last minute of the basketball game.  The woes brought 
on by  a personal foul, by yours truly, causing the game to end in a not 
happy  resulting score.
    Remembering  the looks on the faces of the girls on the floor, the look 
of disbelief as the  win was plucked from our hands, by my going up for the 
rebound.  The basket  counting and tying the game, the free throw giving 
Archbishop Molly High School  the first win in the Holiday Tournament.  Worse 
then the look of the girls  on the floor was the look of Coach Mark as we 
headed to the locker room.   You could see the angry in the raised blood 
vessels in his neck as he looked  away from me as I passed.  His perfect season, 
already going down the  tubes.  Hearing the words, "Stupid foul," as O 
walked past him to the  locker room.  The other girls knowing not to say 
anything, just filing past  the bench and the cheering crowd.  Passing the next team 
in the tournament  to come out for warmups.
    Thinking  to myself.  "Some star forward."  All my numbers and 
potential negated  by an errant body block.  The foul could have went either way; 
but it  didn't.  Lifting my left foot and massaging the aching ankle.   
Balancing on one foot as I work the joint in the wet heat of the shower.   Two 
broken ankles, one in softball, the other in soccer.  Not going to get  a 
scholarship this way as I put the left foot down and turn in the shower.   The 
needles of hot water, striking against my chest and my flat stomach.   Working 
the soap into the small mounds of my breasts.  Slowly using my  thumbs to 
massage the thick long nipples, my compensation for the small breasts,  that 
I seem destined to have.  Giggling as I think of the shirt buried in  my 
closet at home.  "Itty Bitty Titty Club", printed in block letters  across the 
front.  Straight lines, not broken by the swell of a huge  chest.  Charter 
member in the club.  Closing my eyes and moaning  softly as one hand 
continues to roll my left nipple, as my right hand, fingers  gripping the soap, 
slide over the hard lines of my belly and then against the  swollen lips of my 
pubes.  The small bar of soap moving gliding against the  hidden bump of my 
clit, releasing my nipple and bracing one hand on the wall, as  the bar 
slides between the full lips of my puss.  Another moan and another,  then my eyes 
flying open as I realize how loud they seemed in my ears.   Feeling myself 
blush as I wonder if my room mate heard me, or maybe other team  mates out 
in the bedroom of our hotel room, listening at the door.   Giggling at the 
tall quiet girl, playing with herself in the  shower. 
    Forcing  my hand from between my labia with effort, my nipples tingling 
from the  sensitivity brought on by my momentary arousal.  Working the soap 
along the  long lines of my lithe legs.  Not allowing myself the luxury of 
arousing  myself more; but finishing the shower in a businesslike manner.  
Finding  that the bath towels might be fine for an average size girl; but a 
bit short  when wrapped around the body of a tall girl.  Not sure which way 
to knot  the towel, front or back.  Either way something is going to be 
showing as I  walk out of the bathroom.  Working another towel in my long dark 
hair, then  combing the long wet strand to hang down my back.
    One  look in the mirror at the seeming immature tall girl.  The towel 
flat on my  chest, indents from the still hard nipples poking at the 
terrycloth.  My  ass cheeks exposed in back as I decided to knot it in the back.  
Pushing  the door open and stepping out into the room.  A look of shock on my 
face  as I watch the hotel room swing open and Coach Mark step into the 
room.   The door slamming hard behind him.  His frame blocking the doorway, as 
he  stands looking at me.  The anger still visible in his eyes and mouth.   
Knowing his face would be beet red if he was a white Irishman; but being 
black  in complexion, nothing showing.  Looking over at my roommate, laying 
across  one of the queen size bed, his finger pointing to the door, and the bark 
of his,  "get out" filling the room.  The girl jumping off the bed in a 
pair of  shorts and a tee shirt and quickly out the door.  Closing it quietly 
behind  her.
    The  coach looking at me, feeling a flush of embarrassment finding him 
seeing me in a  towel in a hotel room.  Not that he hasn't seen all the 
girls in a towel or  maybe less in the years as a coach.  But here, now it felt 
so  different.  My cheeks goind red and my chest and shoulders mottling  
also.  Taking a deep breath, wondering how bad this "balling out" is going  to 
be.  My legs trembling, opening my stance to brace myself for the  onslaught 
of verbage.  Trying to meet his eyes; but knowing I let him down,  I let 
the team down, I let the school down. 
    Watching  as his mouth opens, then shuts, then opens again.  Stepping 
closer, in my  face, his words spilling out in a tumble of shouts and 
spittle.  "How  freaking stupid can you be Patrice?  Tell me.  What the fuck were 
you  thinking?  Not appalled by the words; but by the vehement soul of his  
voice.  Feeling my shoulders shaking as I acknowledge with lowered eyes and  
head, that I was responsible for this disaster.  "We had them beat, we had  
the number one team in the state beat, and you let them off the hook.  I  
thought you had a head on your shoulders."  His hand reaching forward and  
gripping my shoulders.  Shaking me as the words pour forth, a tirade of  every 
adage and expression that was every used to describe a bone head mistake  or 
dumb play.
    The  violence of his outburst and the fingers digging deep into the 
flesh of my  shoulder, making me wilt, not able to even attempt to defend 
myself.   Finally leaning forward and laying my head against his chest, tears 
tumbling  down my cheeks, sobbing in self pity.  Feeling his hands digging 
deeper  into my shoulders, then slide down my back to hold me close.  Weeping 
hard  against his muscular body.  My tears breaking the shouts down to 
soothing  coos from the big man.  Shivering as I feel his fingers brush the curve 
of  my spine, where the towel opened in back.  Feeling myself going stiff, 
legs  pushing me upright against him.  The towel riding down in front over the 
 almost bump less chest.  Feeling my hard nipples pushing against the front 
 of his cotton shirt, gasping with surprise and a soft moan of pleasure as 
the  terrycloth slides against the sensitive tips.
    Coach  not moving now.  His hands motionless on my back, as he looks 
down at me  and see my upper chest flattened against his body, the towel now 
somewhere,  trapped being my supposed breasts and my waist.  My hands that 
were wrapped  around his waist, now spastically letting go, and reaching for 
the ends of  my towel.  The knot now slipping free and finding the towel the 
only thing  separating my naked body from him.
    Hearing  a groan of pain, as his fingers tighten against my back and 
slide lower to hold  me against his body.  Feeling the hard bump of his 
manhood against my  pubes.  Panicking, as I realize what his reaction means and 
what has  triggered it.  His thick fingers sliding down my waist, digging into 
the  firm ass cheeks, moaning as I feel my body pushed harder against his  
crotch.  Breathing hard, not even thinking to scream, just unable to think  
as he walks me backwards, my body retreating before his.  the back of the  
bed bumping against my calves and tripping me to fall sprawled on the  
coverlet.  The towel sliding down to caress my knees and then somewhere on  the 
floor.  Coach Mark's eyes dropping to hold mine, and then to move down  the 
length of my body.  Smiling as he sees the long thick nipples,  thrusting 
proudly from my chest.  The small strip of dark hair above the  opening of my 
slit.  The fat pouty lips framed between the well toned  thighs.  Breathing 
hard as I look up, feeling exposed, helpless, viginal  (yes virginal) and 
confused. 
    "Stay  there."  The sausage like finger pointing at me, emphasizing his 
 words.  So use to obeying his commands and directions.  Not even  
attempting to cover myself as I lay back on the bed, my feet on the floor.   Arms 
spread to the sides.  Coach Mark, turning and walking quickly to the  door.  
Loudly announcing to anyone on the other side, "We will go over the  plays 
again and again to you get it right and understand Patrice."  His  words for 
anyone outside the door, as he turned the lock.  Then turning  back to me, I 
watch him move gracefully to the foot of the bed.  His smile,  one I only 
have seen when he trounced a better opponent.  "Quiet."   One word, as he 
draws his coaches shirt over his head, the muscles rippling in  his thick chest 
and bulging arms.  The shiny black skin moving with power  with each small 
motion.  Then his hands moving to his waist.  Deftly  undoing his belt, then 
his tab and then sliding the zipper down in a small whisk  of sound.  My 
head moving side to side, denying, negating what was about to  happen, but not 
covering my body. 
     Just  watching as the scene unfolds in slow motion.  Almost like one 
of those  porn movies that we girls watched in the basement of Susan's 
parents  house.  His fingers now pulling the flaps of his fly apart, exposing a  
black set of jockey shorts, bulging in the front.  My chest fluttering as I  
moan behind my closed lips.  Fearing what I would see, but wanting so much  
to see it.  Almost like a ride in an amusement park.  Afraid of the  
unknonw, but knowing that you will experience it.  Thick fingers hitching  in the 
waistband of his shorts, dragging them over the tree trunk muscled  thighs.  
The thick veiny ebony shaft popping free as he dows a quick step  out of 
pants and shorts
    My  eyes wide at the thick mushroom head, partially exposed from his 
uncut  cock.  My head still moving side to side in denial.  Feeling his hands  
touching my legs, and pushing me up the bed to the pillows.  My legs  
trembling with fear, as his knees indent the foot of the bed.  His weight  
lifting me slightly and then feeling his thick fingers sliding up my left  thigh.  
The skin tingling as it moves to the spread vee.  His fat  thumb touching 
my swollen labia, my body jerking with the simple touch.   Then feeling his 
other hand moving up to pull my pussy lips apart.  Feeling  moist tears in my 
eyes and down the sides of my face as I see him looking down  at my open 
puss.  Ashamed and scared that I would pee.  Knowing that  the pink wetness of 
my walls was exposed.  That I lay open for  him.
    His  fingers now quickly pushing into the wet hole of my puss, my hips 
moving side to  side as I feel him enter deeper, then stop.    Panting with 
fear  and now need.  Still voiceless as his fingers encounter my hymen.   
Probing again with his fingers then his face moving up my body to look into my 
 eyes.  "You have ruined my perfect season Patrice."  His words calm as  my 
eyes are held by his.  "I am going to ruin your perfect viginity."   The 
words soft but firmly said.  His body sliding higher on the bed, his  hands 
parting my swollen labia, holding it open as the fat cock head blocks the  
entrance.  Feeling it rubbing against the aroused lips.  Then grunting  and 
biting my lip as I feel the fat head being forced into the virginal  opening.  
My body already with a sheen of sweat as I feel the walls being  stretched 
aside, then the cock head pushing against the thin tissue.   Groaning and 
trying not to scream as I feel the cock head stretch the tissue  like a drum 
head and pop it like a balloon exploding.  The pain so quick  and intense, 
more so from the anticipation. Raising my wrist to my mouth and  biting on my 
forearm, as he lowers his body more, the long fat shaft and head,  pushing 
past the forelorn and now broken defense of my  hymen. 
    My  hair damp on my head as I try to spread my legs further apart to 
ease the  tightness in my cunt.  Hissing as the cock is buried deeper, now 
feeling  the scratch of his pubic hair on my thighs and mound.  My whole body  
trembling, as he pushes deeper.  Wanting to scream out in pain and fear;  
but knowing that I wouldn't.  Finally feeling the fat cock head sliding  back 
as he lifts his body, keeping it just filling the entrance.  Then  sliding 
in easier, the pain dulling inside my body.  Alternately hissing  and panting 
as he works the thick black shaft in and out of my yielding  pussy.  
Feeling my hips lifting to meet his thrusts, Moaning as the shaft  pulls back, m
ourning the loss of the thick meat in my  vagina. 
    Eyes  closing as I concentrate on each thrust, feeling it bulging my 
walls, and  occasionally knocking on the entrance to my womb.  My head moving 
side to  side again, as I feel the sensations welling up in my lower body.  
The  friction of his cock and the pumping moving the mattress beneath my 
ass.   My legs raised straight in the air and to the sides.  Coach Mark's body  
delving deep into my cunt.  Hearing his breathing now, hard groans with  
each thrust.  Remembering the movies so remote on the TV screen, but  feeling 
the movement so alive and real. My body shaking with a small orgasm,  
clenching on the cock that is already filling the cramped tunnel.  Then a  few 
strokes more of his cock and my body releases in the cramping as I squeeze  on 
his cock.  Feeling my juices wetting his cock and my  thighs. 
    My  head now banging against the head board, as he continues to thrust 
the monster  into my pussy.  The sound of each thrust a thunk on the top of 
my  head.  The feeling him tensing, his cock swelling in my tight hole.   
"Oh, shit." and then a hard thrust, as he empties his seed into my cramped  
cunt.  Splattering the walls with thick globs of fertile cum.  Holding  his 
cock deep as it squirts again and again and again.  Looking up at him,  as he 
lets out his breath.  His thick features filling my vision.  One  of his 
hands stroking at his half impaling cock, milking the juices up the veiny  
shaft and out the pee hole.  The smell of sweat, mine and his strong in my  
nose, and the more musky scent of sex juices filling the  room. 
    Pushing  himself from the bed like a pushup, his cock head popping free 
with a wet  "splat."  Panting as he looks down at me.  A look of confidence 
 in his face.  Kneeling on the bed and pulling me upright to a sitting  
position.  Working my lips and tongue to his shiny wet cock.  Forcing  it into 
my mouth, tasting his cum and my familiar juices and the iron taste of  
blood.  My eyes widening as I realize what happened.  Stupid girl,  thinking to 
myself.  My mouth moving along the head and shaft, lips  stretched around 
the head.
    "Enough."   Feeling his hands pushing against my chest, shoving me 
backwards on the bed to  lay sprawled on my back.  Walking on his knees 
backwards and  standing.  Leaning over a dabbing the towels that was under my body 
against  my bruised pussy lips.  The towel pink and stained.  "Get up and get 
a  pad in that gash girl.
    Watching  me stoically as I rummage through my suitcase to find a pad, 
happy that I always  carry one or two.  Taking my panties and applying the 
pad to the crotch,  pulling it up shyly, embarassed as he stands watching.
    Pointing  at me again, "not a word Patrice, not a word to anyone."  
Walking over to  me as I sit in a chair, wrapping my robe around me, looking 
distractedly at the  rumpled bed spread.  Amazed that no blood is visible, and 
wondering when he  shoved the towel under my ass.  Then up at Coach Mark.
    "You  are team captain, a senior and the best player on the team.  When 
ever  they, your teammates fuck up Patrice.  I am going to expect you to 
pay me  for their miscues.  And if you screw up Patrice",  waiting long  
seconds, "I am going to fuck you in the ass hard.  You will learn not to  make 
mistakes." 
    Stepping  into his trousers and shirt, grabbing the towel and wadding 
it up.  Walking  to the door and turning back to me as I sit in the chair, 
feeling my whole lower  body bruised and swollen.   "I will not tolerate 
anymore stupid  mistakes, do you understand me."  Looking at him and answering 
with a soft,  "yes Coach Mark."
    Opening  the door that was already unlocked under the cover of his 
parting shouts.   Stepping from the room and hearing his footsteps against the 
carpet.  My  roommate slipping in the partially opened door, and taking one 
look at me.   Wrinkling her nose, wanting to say something, as she looked at 
me, sitting in my  robe.  Then thinking better of it as she collects her 
toiletries and  retires to the bathroom for her shower.
    Standing  wearily and taking tissues and dabbing at my sloppy cunt 
lips, smelling the  strong scent that wasn't in the room a half hour ago.  
Straightening the  bed and thinking back on the past few minutes and how they 
have changed my life  forever..........
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