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Orijinalini görmek için tıklayınız : Extreme Measures


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24 Ocak 2023, 18:26
Been awhile, not that I haven't been writing, just haven't been writing here. As is my way, I tend to just DIY the whole darn thing So it's all on me, my bad.
Enjoy the read and vote if so inclined. However, comments or direct emails are always appreciated (even the haters) and mostly replied to - usually.
"Great game man, thanks."
Yeah, great game. Sure I was the one basking in the exultation of victory. And while still standing, my legs felt like jello and I was struggling to avoid bending over, and sucking in deep lungfuls of recovery breaths. With forced nonchalance, right wrist holding my basketball to my right hip I raised my left hand and flipped a half salute to my vanquished foes. In all ways other than the final score those guys kicked my ass. The only reason I won was that they played as much against each other as against me.
I'd come to the park intent on practicing free throws and dribbling up and down the court. I wasn't even looking for a pickup game as my most recent one-on-one with Chrissy had left my barely able to walk. Not that she kicked my ass, those days are past. She didn't kick my ass, she kicked me in the balls. And down I went.
Shit. Okay, she kicked me because she had finally gotten the ball inside the free throw line and she was trying to back me down the lane to get an easy bucket. There was a time when she was able to do that with regularity. I was a solid twenty pounds heavier than that time, I was set and unmovable. She kept pushing her butt into my pelvis and nature finally took its course, between pushes I popped a no doubt about it hard on.
In my defense, we had come to the park for a simple shoot around, maybe a game of "h-o-r-s-e." As such I was wearing a t-shirt and athletic shorts (with the summertime heat, I was also sans 'support,' I.e., commando.) Chrissy was similarly unencumbered, baggy boardshorts and a fairly tight, lightweight sports bra. Everything was fine while we were just shooting around. But as is often the case between Chrissy and me, things got competitive.
It started with a missed shot (mine), since the rebound was arcing toward me I raised my hands to receive it. Suddenly, without warning, an NHL worthy hip check moved me sideways, and Chrissy had the ball with a shouted, "Game on pansy boy."
I pivoted and got a piece of the ball as she went for a quick jump shot. She thought I would drive in for a lay up, a stepped back for an easy ten footer. I shouldn't have, but I most certainly did razz her with, "Michael 'one' on a sweet, sweet ten footer, ChrisTINA 'zero.' Oh yeah, game fucking on."
In the game of basketball, height is an advantage unto itself. Although Chrissy's quickness posed challenges I am hard pressed to neutralize. In this one-on-one game, a basket is one point and the winner is first to fifteen. The game went back and forth, but I slowly built up a lead. When I faked Chrissy and drove past her for a layup, the score was Michael 'thirteen' and Chrissy 'seven.' Chrissy grabbed the ball and walked to the free throw line, bouncing it fiercely with both hands. I walked to the top of the key and raised my hands to receive the ball. "Thirteen seven."
Which is what you do. If Chrissy had scored she would have said, "Eight twelve." No big deal. Then I made it a big deal, maybe it was the hip check that started this, more likely it was the hard slaps and scratches on my arms due to Chrissy's failed attempts to steal the ball or block my shot. Whatever it was prompted me to say, "Game in two and there ain't shit that you can do to stop it from becoming the truth."
Trash talk. Yeah, I know, not my usual thing. Which was why Chrissy's eyes went large in surprise then squinted down in purpose. "Bring it Mikey."
I dribbled towards her intending to fake right this time then spin left and drive the lane. I did a lousy job of selling the fake and halfway into the spin Chrissy had position and I had no place to go. Chrissy's defense became seriously physical as she pressed her chest against my back to keep me away from the basket. I tried twice to back her down and there was no give to her position. You might think that in the fast paced action of basketball a guy wouldn't have time to notice soft breasts pressed against him - well, I seemed to have had more than enough time. Which was why I was almost hard when I threw a half-hearted hook that clanged off the rim and was an easy rebound for Chrissy.
She got the ball, dribbled out past the key and drove on me. I figured she would fake drive the lane, stop and pop at the free throw line for an easy point. I faked a step back to defend the layup and pushed forward as she came to a stop. I'd caught her in mid pivot when started (trying) to back me down to free up her shot.
She kept pushing her butt into my pelvis, but I was set, stable, and unmoving. Well most of me was unmoving, the almost hard part became crazy hard between Chrissy's pushes. It happened so fast, the basketball escort izmir (https://www.izmirlitv.com/) player in me didn't want to give up my position. The well mannered gentleman my mom tried relentlessly to encourage wanted very much to give way. The gentleman finally convinced the baller to step back.
I was one push too late as Chrissy's perfect butt pushed onto and against my most male appendage. I sure as hell noticed, I hoped that maybe she didn't.
She noticed. She stopped playing, turned and gaped at my protruding organ, there was no missing that. Words were exchanged. She accused me of being a perv, amongst a number of other male-oriented derogatory comments. I may have insinuated she was practically giving me a lap dance (there may have been an unfortunate reference to a 'happy ending' being imminent.) I was in mid eye roll of disbelief that this was actually happening so I didn't see her actually kick me in the balls. I do know that I went down like a puppet with its strings cut. While I was down and she just walked away cursing me out as she went.
She never called to apologize and I made no effort to contact her. I was still slightly sore when I headed over to the park this morning. I'd just started grooving my shot when these two guys showed up and talked me into a game of one on two. If they'd asked earlier I'd have declined as I was still a little sore. But warmed up and moving well I said 'sure', so with a flip of the coin deciding I was 'the one" we began playing.
By the time we called it a morning I was spent and my shorts and t-shirt were dripping wet. I started my walk home wearing still damp shorts and my shirt draped over my back drying slowly in the late morning sun. Every once in awhile I'd dribble my basketball back and forth between my legs, except when I passed Chrissy's house. Then I dribbled the ball continually as I rounded the corner. I was nearly past when CC (Christina Conway, aka, Chris, Chrissy, or CC) came running, calling out to me, "Mikey,, wait up, I'm sorry okay?"
I stopped and looked at her, I did not smile.
"Michael (oh, 'Michael' is it? This was serious) I apologize for kicking you. It was wrong, I was wrong. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry." CC adopted an expression of earnest contrition. "Okay?"
"Apology accepted."
"Great, I need you to do something for me." She actually reached out to grab my arm! "C'mon Mikey, it'll just take a minute. Mike-y!"
Quick aside here, my name is Michael, I was Mikey for the first dozen or so years of my life. Intermediate and High school has reduced the group of people still calling me 'Mikey' to one - CC. Oh and to CC, the phrase "it'll just take a minute" has no relationship with any recognized measure of time - it means 'I need you right to now and for the foreseeable future. I'll let you know when we're finished.'
That said, CC and I go way back. I think she moved into the neighborhood between first and second grade. We became fast friends, bonding primarily through soccer, basketball, and other youth sports. And no we weren't on the same teams, but we practiced relentlessly against one another. Though we're the same age, at the time, she was almost a head taller than me. She was faster than me, and stronger than me. It wasn't until high school that I finally passed her. Now I'm a good head taller than her, heavier and stronger than her, and almost as fast as her. The basketball activity of a few days before was par for the course of our friendship, except for the whole kick to the balls part.
CC wanted me to come around through the side gate, so I followed dutifully behind. And yes, I was enjoying the wonderful wiggle of her butt as she lead the way. Since it was a summer weekday, her mom was probably at work so I figured CC needed me to move something or lift something or whatever something. Believe me, this is a situation that is not at all unusual, "Mikey can you move this, Mikey can you lift that, Mikey, Mikey, Mikey." Since we were going through the side gate I figured I was going to be moving patio furniture, or pool stuff, or something like that. Instead we turned toward the house, crossed the patio and entered the bonus room. The Conways used it as a spare bedroom, only it didn't have a bed, just one of those dorky looking convertible couchs and not much else.
Holy shit.
On said dorky couch was a stunningly beautiful blonde, sitting primly and precisely, ankles crossed and hands overlapped in her lap. She was wearing a well filled out white tank top with thin spaghetti straps tied in a bow at her shoulders. These contrasted with the black straps of a bra or bikini top. In stylistic opposition to her torso covering we're a pair of really baggy grey cargo shorts. I mention the bagginess of the shorts because I could see the outside of her thigh clear up to her hip. The view was awesome, I gave her some silent applause in appreciation of her bold sense of style.
Okay, that last observation is straight out of my typical izmir escort bayan (https://www.izmirlitv.com/) male perviness. If she was sitting by the pool in a bikini there would be way more skin on casual display, 'nough said. And while I'd still be checking her out - for reasons unknown to me - getting a glance up her baggy shorts, that caused a stirring.
I mean this girl was hot. I was glad I'd put my t-shirt back on once I was following CC because my dick began to harden and the shirt was just long enough covered that up. Popping a woody when you first meet a girl is generally frowned upon in most social situations, no matter how hot the girl is.
"Michael (that's my CC, going with my preferred name not the old "Mikey" nickname, which I don't mind CC calling me but I try to discourage others using it) this is Natalia, she's..."
"My cousin."
I ignored the 'my cousin' speaker and stepped forward shaking Natalia's hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you Natalia." She had a great smile which she aimed right at me until it faded slightly and she glanced to my left. Time to put the manners that my mom has spent most of my lifetime drilling into me to work or perhaps more correctly, put them to the test. I turned, smiled as best I could, and said, "Hello Deborah."
Well fuck. Deborah Towers was one of my least favorite people in the whole fucking world, and I've no doubt that I am one of her least favorites. Why is there such animus between us? Mostly because from the moment we met, she just plain and clearly didn't like me, and she wasn't shy about saying so. I don't know why but for some unknown reason I bring out the railing bitch in her. So I've never gone out of my way to be friends or even to attempt being friendly with her.
Unfortunately she is also good friends with Chrissy, so we end up in close proximity more often than either of us desires or enjoys. I've even asked Chris what I might be guilty of and she didn't really have any kind of answer other than 'well Mikey, sometimes some people just don't mesh well with other people.' So my interactions with Deborah (don't call her Debs, Debbie, or even Dee, you do so at your peril) are kept to an absolute minimum.
"We needed a dick and you immediately came to mind." And there you have it my dear readers, Exhibit A regarding yours truly and Princess Charming, 'We needed a dick and you immediately came to mind.' And it wasn't said facetiously, or in any way even slightly humorous. She was outright scowling at me.
Chrissy ignored her and went on to tell a tale of Natalia's upbringing in an extremely conservative religious community(religious community my ass, to me it sounded like some kind of batshit crazy cult) that had a strict policy of separation of the sexes for all unmarried persons. This created a situation where Natalia had hardly spoken to a boy once she reached the age of thirteen. Then in January of last year the community fractured and quickly fell apart when a huge sex scandal (yeah, who didn't see that coming) came to light. Before the dust settled, Natalia and her mother left the community and came all the way west.
This past year Natalia found herself as a senior in a public high school, exposed for the first time in her life to all of the raging horniness of her fellow students. Toward the end of the school year Natalia turned 18 and it was only then that her mom allowed her to start dating. On the third date of her life - all with the same guy - disaster struck. They were making out, things moving along quite delightfully when the guy unzipped his pants and pulled out his dick, "Touch it 'talia, stroke it babe."
Natalia waved Chris to pause in the tellng and allow her to clarify, "I'd never seen one, you know, his thing, except in the biology books at school. And he said, 'Jerk me off Natalia. Jerk me off.' So I grabbed it and gave it a good, hard yank."
A frightening image filled my mind. I actually flinched when she said that. Even Chris' eyes were big. I held up both hands.
"Natalia," I spoke quietly, looking down at her hands and the two or three rings on each of her fingers "were you wearing rings on that date like you are today?"
She nodded affirmatively. "And were you twisting them around like you have today? Twisting them like that?"
That generated a very profoundly abashed nod and an almost too quiet to be heard, "I do that when I'm really nervous."
I took her hands and turned them palms up. Natalia had taken all of her rings and twisted them so that the pointy, sharp, knobby parts were all palm side up. I stifled a shiver, as just the thought of what happened was chilling. I looked her in the eyes and asked her, "How loud did he scream?"
Evidently that was the trigger that unleashed the whole story, and poor Natalia couldn't stop talking until everything was shown the light of day. All the details of that evening poured out; her blouse was unbuttoned, her bra unfastened, his hand was up her skirt making her swoon in izmir escortlar (https://www.izmirlitv.com/) distraction.
"No one had ever touched me like that. I've never felt anything like that. And all the while I was praying that he wouldn't stop doing what he was doing. Then he did stop and unzipped his pants, and there was his thing sticking out. It was pointed straight up. I didn't know what to do and I just wanted his hand back up my skirt, I wanted him touching me again, so when he kept saying "jerk it...jerk me off" I grabbed hold and yanked hard, hoping he'd go back to fingering me. Oh Michael, I didn't know a man could scream like that."
I nodded in sympathy, both for her and the poor guy with the slightly shredded dick, ouch! I was still holding her hands so I slowly turned her rings until pointy parts were properly pointed in the correct direction.
"She needs to know how to jerk a guy off and we figured that if anyone knew how to jerk a guy off, it would be you." And that ladies and gentlemen is Exhibit B on why Deborah and I do not get along. And don't think that I'm exaggerating, but it's like this every time I'm near her. I did what I always do and simply ignored her.
"Natalia, I understand what you want to see, and what you want to do, what you want to learn to do. But how far do you want to take this? I can do what your date was doing. We can even use the couch like it's a car seat so that we're side by side. But you have to set the limits, I don't want you to be uncomfortable and I certainly don't want you to regret this." I felt Natalia relax and heard Chris say, "See Natalia he understands, go ahead and tell him what you want to learn. Tell him Natalia." Deborah grunted dismissively, but otherwise kept quiet.
Okay. Look, if you think I trying to deflect or avoid the sex on a platter being presented to me, you're wrong. My shirt was covering a raging hard on, and all signs were pointing to getting a hand job at a minimum, with the distinct possibility of something more. But Natalia's anxiety was palpable, Deborah was present, and CC while encouraging up to this point could shut the whole down in an instant. I had to reassure CC and Natalia that I was working with them and not trying to take advantage of Natalia's plight and simply get off.
"I need to know how to make a guy cum, Michael. How to jerk him off...the right way. Deborah said I should probably learn how to suck a guy's thing. Would you be willing to help me with that too?"
See, that's what I'm talking about, trust and a willingness to participate in the solving of this problem. I was willing to help Natalia learn to give a proper hand job and if that lead to delving into the various elements of a successful blow job, I was willing to do that too. Oh the sacrifices some of us are called upon to make. "If you want to do that, well, I'm all yours."
"Oh good Lord, I didn't mean him." I'll give you one guess who said that.
Chris shushed her, "Quiet Deborah, this is for Natalia. It's whatever she wants to do. If she's comfortable with Michael then we are supporting her choice."
"Thank you Chris. I think, ohmygod, this is really going to happen isn't it? I actually think we should do what Deborah was suggesting earlier, before Michael arrived." Natalia looked at Deborah, then at Chrissy, and then right at me. "I think we should all be naked. Then it's all out in the open where we can see everything, and you can tell me when or if what I'm doing is right or wrong, or there's a better way or easier way. And if we're all naked no one will feel exposed or vulnerable or left out."
Feasting my eyes on Natalia, Chris, and even Deborah I realized this was a well thought out and truly inspired plan. I for one thought Natalia's logic compelling and gave it my complete approval employing an easy nod a supportive smile, and a sincere though very quiet, "I'm here for you."
Unfortunately Chris immediately disagreed, "You three can handle all that hetero stuff just fine, but it'll happen without me. I'll start getting something ready for lunch."
I don't think I've mention that Chris is gay. She came out a couple of years ago, so her not being excited about seeing me naked or me seeing her made perfect sense. Of course you're now wondering about the whole hard-on encounter and why it went the way it did. Truth be told there's a much larger story regarding her coming out that involves a time when we dated and did some things that I would have gladly followed to complete fruition. Unfortunately those activities actually confirmed to Chris her orientation. Now is not the time nor this the site for that particular story to be told.
And just like that Chris stood and walked out, closing the door behind her. Natalia pretty much ignored Chris' announcement and was moving ahead on her own. She pulled her tank top over her head revealing a black bra that barely succeeded in containing her incredible boobs. She was fairly slim, so I was guessing a 32 or 34C or maybe better - overall, very very nice. I pulled my own shirt off, and turned to Deborah. She sat opposite the couch leaning against a wall. So I smiled and asked as neutrally as possible. "Are you going to go help Chris make lunch?"