Chapter 10: Based on Sex

-- OCTOBER 2007 --

“Right pick, right pick!” I hollered.

I give Dawn credit for trying, but the reality was that she didn’t play basketball very often and didn’t instinctively know what to do with my warning. If she’d had time to think about it, she’d realize I was telling her that Bert had snuck into her blind spot on the right, setting a screen for his teammate. But she didn’t have time to think about it, so when the ball-handler crossed over and dribbled to Dawn’s right, she slammed right into Bert’s chest and came to a dead stop.

No matter, I was prepared and set my defensive stance in the middle of the lane. Dribbling with her left hand, DJ curled around Bert’s screen and grinned as she approached me. I briefly glanced at her tits – those beauties were squished together and put on display by her well-fitted low-cut sports bra – before lowering my gaze down to her belly button, knowing it would tip me off as to which direction she’d try to go to get to the hoop.

When DJ had first suggested we play basketball last month, I’d mentally told myself to take it easy on her. After all, she was a girl, and guys just don’t go 100% against girls. Besides being unchivalrous, it simply wouldn’t be fair – we’re better than they are...

... mostly. I’ve no doubt a 6’3” WNBA star would wipe the court with my sorry ass, but I’d been pretty sure I was a much better basketball player than DJ. And even after we played, I confirmed that I indeed was a better basketball player than her ... but not by that much.

I was taller, stronger, could jump higher, and had played a lot of streetball. But DJ was athletic, coordinated, and had the fundamentals drilled into her by the high school team for a couple of years. I’d sorta forgotten about that last part. She knew what she was doing, could dribble with either hand, and had enough range to make a decent percentage of 3-pointers. After playing turnstile defense for the first few minutes and watching her score bucket after bucket after bucket, I’d been forced to take her seriously as a player and at least put out a little effort.

Tonight was the third time we’d played two-on-two in the last few weeks: me and Dawn versus DJ and Bert. I was a better player than Bert, but DJ was a better player than Dawn, and I wanted everyone to have fun much more than I wanted to hog the ball and single-handedly try to win. We won some, they won some, no big deal most of the time. But tonight DJ had caught fire, Bert was playing better than usual, and Dawn and I hadn’t won a single game.

That was about to change. No more Mister Nice Guy, no more going out of my way to set Dawn up for a mid-range jumper at the expense of my easy layup. We’d gotten down 8-3 while playing to 11 straight-up (ones and twos) this last game, and dammit I was tired of losing.

Keeping the ball in her left hand, DJ first tried to drive past me on my right, but I shuffled my feet and cut her off. She quickly stepped back, giving herself a couple of feet of breathing room, gathered the ball with both hands, and jumped to take her shot.

I immediately lunged forward and leapt into the air, swinging my arm to swat the ball into the bleachers. But DJ instead flashed me a maddening grin, and from mid-air she bounced a pass just beyond my extended left foot, the ball going straight to Bert as he cut to the basket for an easy layup.

“9-3,” DJ drawled smugly as she returned to the top of the key.

Now I was getting annoyed. Dawn checked the ball to DJ. Bert rather lazily circled the 3-point line to get the inbounds, and DJ nonchalantly passed it to him. Ordinarily I’d let them complete such a simple inbounds pass, but my competitive ire had been raised and I darted into the gap with my hand extended to cut it off...

... only the ball wasn’t there. DJ had kept both hands on the ball during her passing motion, and she’d never let it go. My momentum from going for the steal carried me out beyond the 3-point line, leaving a HUGE opening for Bert to head for the basket, gather in the lob pass DJ had tossed over Dawn’s head, and score another easy bucket.

“10-3!” DJ sang musically. “Game point!”

She got a little greedy just then. Had she given it her best effort, DJ probably could have scored on Dawn and ended the game then and there. But instead she called for a screen, solely to get me switched onto her defensively and bust the winning shot in my face. And after faking another drive, she stepped back behind the 3-point line and hoisted up what she hoped would be the final dagger.

No such luck. The ball clanged off the front iron, Dawn boxed out Bert (and he didn’t try very hard to get around her), and I gathered in the rebound. DJ was still shaking her head over the missed 3-pointer, so she didn’t react quickly enough when I raced out to the line and just as quickly raced back in toward the hoop for an easy layup of my own.

“4-10,” I growled challengingly as I motioned for Dawn to inbound from the top of the key.

Giving me a silly grin, my best friend rather lazily moved to underhand the ball to me. Now it was DJ’s turn to recognize the opportunity for a steal, and she darted to her left to cut the ball off...

... only the ball wasn’t there. Dawn had held onto the ball, waited for me to cut, and swiftly sent me a chest pass. Bert was still guarding me and stuck to his assignment, but as he moved into a defensive stance against my back, Dawn ran right past him and neatly caught the short lob I’d tossed backwards over my head.

“5-10,” Dawn announced after she watched her layup fall through the net and bounce right into her waiting arms. Sticking her tongue out at her little sister, my teammate added, “Payback’s a bitch.”

DJ rolled her eyes, stood at the free throw line, and held her hand out to check the ball. Three seconds later, I jab-faked to put Bert on his heels and swished a 3-pointer (worth 2 in this scoring system) from the left wing, making the score 7-10. A few seconds after that, I lowered my shoulder and drove past Bert for a tough layup to make it 8-10. Next, I planned to drain another 3-pointer (again worth 2) to make it 10-all, and then I figured I could easily find just one more bucket to win the game.

At least that was the plan. My 3-pointer was off-left and bricked out of bounds. DJ next tried a driving hook shot that wasn’t even close. Then, I drove into a double-team and probably should have passed the ball to Dawn for an open look, but my ego made me instead put up a well-contested jumper that just barely rimmed out. And after DJ raced around another screen, instead of doing another bounce pass to a cutting Bert, she put up a jumper that I got a hand on and deflected away.

For the next three minutes, DJ and I took turns trying and failing to single-handedly take over the game. We hustled after rebounds, outworked our opponents, and yet never quite managed to put the ball through the hoop. After she attempted three straight drives against Dawn to end the game, I told my best friend to switch defense with me. And after another minute or two Dawn and Bert basically decided to stand off to one side and just watch me and DJ go one-on-one. Seriously, they didn’t even bother to inbound the ball with us. DJ and I simply checked it to each other and just went from there.

One-on-one, there was really no way DJ could have won the game. I was taller, stronger, and faster than her. Driving, she had a limited set of moves and no real underhand scoop to speak of, so I pretty much could block any of her close-range layup attempts. If she tried to back me down in the post, I would enjoy having her ass pushed up against my crotch and knew I would be in perfect position to block her turnaround fade. And if she stayed on the perimeter, I more or less got right up in her grill so that she’d have no chance of getting off a clean shot. No more taking it easy on her because she was a girl.

My 8-10 deficit became 9-10 when I drove right, put a spin move on her, and laid it in with my left hand. I got to 10-all with a short stop-and-pop just in front of the free throw line. And though I bricked my own attempt at a 3-pointer to win it all, her subsequent attempt to stick her ass against my crotch and back me down into an awkward hook shot was well off the mark.

But the rebound bounced straight to Bert, who was still standing off to the side. He calmly corralled the ball, and instead of passing it to me so I could check the ball in against DJ, he set his back foot and sent a neatly spinning 10-foot shot straight through the hoop.

“11-10! We win!” DJ crowed with her fists thrust up into the air.

“You win? What are you talking about? Bert’s not even playing anymore!” I gathered up the ball and set it against my hip.

DJ frowned at me. “When did we decide that? Bert and Dawn were certainly in all the other games we played today. They were certainly playing for the first 18 points of this game. Just because neither of us has passed the ball in the last five minutes doesn’t mean they’re not playing. This is two-on-two, he’s my teammate, and he just scored off my miss!”

I rolled my eyes. “They stopped playing when they stopped playing. If this is two-on-two, then neither of us can dribble off the checked ball without an inbounds. None of those last few points would have counted.”

DJ sighed. “Fine, none of those points counted. Back to 8-10, Dawn and Bert start playing again, and it’s our ball.”

“What? No-no-no. This became personal when it became one-on-one. 10-10, you and me, next point wins. And you missed a hook shot that would’ve gone out of bounds, so it’s MY ball.” I went to the top of the key, bounced the ball to DJ, and gestured for her to check it back to me.

DJ fixed me with a skeptical look as she scoffed, “Such a manly man that you need your ego inflated by beating a girl?”

“Don’t pull the sexism card with me. You’re not some helpless maiden in distress. You wanna take your cheap win and walk home? Fine. See if that gives you any satisfaction.”

“Well maybe I have to take my satisfaction where I can get it, because somebody here refuses to give ME any!”

“Deej!” Dawn barked a warning, her eyes looking around the indoor court, full of echoes. It was evening on a Friday night and not as crowded as it could have been, but there were still plenty of people within earshot.

DJ sighed and shook her head. “Do YOU really need the satisfaction of beating me in a one-on-one game of basketball? Really?”

“After losing every single game today? I wouldn’t mind, yeah.”

“Then, fine. Check. Go get your win.” DJ bounced the ball to me, got into her defensive stance, and gave me an expectant look.

I faked a step left, dribbled right, and sprinted right past her. But instead of going with me, DJ dispassionately watched me go by. She didn’t move her feet or even bother to turn around. Sensing her lack of defense, instead of finishing the layup I grabbed the ball with both hands and walked back to her. “What gives?”

Suddenly smirking at me, DJ popped her eyebrows. “Nothing. All I did was stand still and hope you’d do exactly what you just did.”

“Do what?”

“You traveled. Turnover. My ball.” Still smirking, DJ snatched it out of my hands.

“Wha--?” I frowned, caught in a stupor. DJ checked me the ball; I checked it back and got into my own defensive stance. But still caught up in my stupor, I wasn’t prepared for her to immediately set her feet and hoist up a shot right then and there. Too late to defend it, I turned to watch the ball arc through the air, impact the square on the backboard, and bank right through the hoop.

“Nice game. I win,” DJ drawled smugly, even reaching out to shake my hand before strutting over to Bert. “C’mon, teammate. Tonight, drinks are on them.”

Drinks were free, of course. Sure, everyone in our group was old enough to enter a bar, but why pay for overpriced cocktails around other guys who might hit on our girls when we could relax and enjoy ourselves at home?

In this case, it was Bert and Lynne’s home that we all went to after the game, a second-floor apartment on Durant within easy walking distance of both the campus and the BART station, and not too far from the family Berkeley house, either. While Bert was only starting the second year of his MBA program, Lynne had already received her Master’s degree and found a job in Richmond. She’d been working late on a project tonight but still beat us to the apartment, having already opened a bottle of red wine and settled in to relax after the work week.

“Hey there, stranger,” Lynne greeted me at the door, a mock expression of surprise on her face. “What is this now, three weeks in a row?”

I chuckled and nodded. When we’d first come by her apartment, Lynne gave me a bunch of crap about not visiting more often while I reminded her that the BART traveled in both directions. But despite not spending a significant amount of time together over the past year, I knew that my friendships with Bert and Lynne were the kind that would never require frequent visits. We’d see each other whenever we saw each other; and we’d feel just as comfortable around each other after a long absence as we would if we’d met up only yesterday. Lifelong friends are like that, you know?

Still, getting Bert to come out and play basketball made for a good excuse to visit, and I leaned in to peck her cheek while she likewise pecked mine.

Looking past my shoulder, Lynne then stepped forward to greet her fiancé with a kiss, but pushed him away when he tried to get a hug. “Go take a shower you sticky, smelly man,” she laughed while he settled for tickling her in the ribs. We really weren’t that sticky anymore, the sweat having dried off and cooled on the walk over in the chilly October evening air. And besides, we’d all put on clean shirts, so I wasn’t worried about soiling Lynne’s couch or anything.

Bert obediently toddled off to go take a shower while Dawn, DJ, and I went to take seats on the couch. Lack of “girlfriend” title or not, Dawn wasn’t shy about cuddling up beside me while graciously accepting Lynne’s offer of a glass of wine. But while DJ couldn’t help but notice her sister’s intimate position by my side, she honestly didn’t seem to mind. She got a glass of her own and proceeded to spell out the details of her triumphant basketball victory over Team Evil, having gone undefeated on the day and beating me one-on-one in the final game.

No one had eaten yet, so I ordered pizza delivery. I took the good natured ribbing I deserved at having been outsmarted by a girl and promised sweet revenge the next time we played. And the four of us settled into an amiable conversation as we caught each other up on the past week.

Lynne, of course, wanted to know what Adrienne was up to. My fiancée was in Paris this weekend, and they’d given her a companion ticket so she’d taken Sasha with her. Brandi and Dayna were on baby duty tonight since June had come over to visit Kim. Brooke was out with Andrew on a Friday night date, and the twins spent most evenings with their friends, period.

When the pizza and wine were gone (along with a six-pack of Coronas), Dawn, DJ, and I bid the young couple adieu and walked back to “our” house.

“You’re not still mad about losing, are you?” DJ asked me as we ascended the steps onto the porch while Dawn fished out her house key.

“Me? Nah. I’m annoyed, to be sure, but not ‘mad’. I’ll get you guys next time.”

“Good to know. I love the competition and all, but I feel like we’ve been making a lot of progress in our friendship, and I don’t want any sore feelings over some game affecting the way we treat each other.”

I shrugged. “Since when have I ever been the kind of guy to have lasting sore feelings over something trivial like a game?”

“Well...” DJ drawled while unzipping her Nike warm-up jacket and hanging it up on the hallway coat rack. “There was that one time we played chess together my freshman year and you weren’t too happy about losing. I started teasing you mercilessly and you bent me over your knee to spank my ass.”

I snorted while eyeing her freshly-exposed cleavage squished together by her sports bra. “Don’t think I was actually upset about that. Just wanted the excuse to spank you. And don’t pretend that you didn’t love it at the time.”

DJ stuck her tongue out at me and turned around, bending at the waist and bracing her hands on her left knee to give me a good look at her amazing ass encased in her skintight black workout pants. “It wasn’t the spanking itself I really loved so much. It’s what you did to me after you spanked me that I loved.”

I felt my balls twitch at the heat in the lovely young blonde’s voice, the sight of her spandex-clad ass, and the memory of the night she’d brought to mind. “Yeah, that was a pretty fun night. I shoulda lost at chess to you more often.”

Standing up straight, DJ shrugged and continued on toward the stairs. “Well now you lose to me at basketball often enough to make up for it.” She glanced back at me with a suggestive waggle in her eyebrows.

I sighed and shook my head. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not gonna get payback the way I used to.”

DJ stopped and turned around, arching an eyebrow. “Well maybe you could get the same kind of payback if you really wanted...”

I frowned and muttered, “Please don’t tease me.”

“Who’s teasing?” Planting her hands on her hips, DJ stood erect and thrust her chest at me.

“You are. We’ve talked about this, about redefining our relationship into one that’s not based on sex.”

“Easy for you to say. I haven’t had sex in a month while you’re still getting laid as often as you want.”

“And you can, too. There are thousands of guys on this campus who would kill for a chance to be with you.”

Sighing and shaking her head, “But only one that -I- really want to be with. And I can’t have him.”

I sighed. “We’ve talked about that, too. I love you, DJ, and I’ll always love you. But I can’t give you the dedicated, center-of-my-universe kind of relationship you want, not at this stage of my life. If all you wanted was to be a harem girl and enjoy some fun like Dayna, that would be one thing. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that was all you needed, and you deserve better than to settle for something less.”

Turning away from me, DJ hugged herself and headed for the stairs again. “You’re right, of course. It would be so easy to convince myself it wouldn’t mean anything: just you scratching that itch for me to tide me over for another few days...”

“But we both know it would mean more than that.”

“And what if I’ve changed my mind? What if I’ve decided we can work on being platonic friends again after I’ve found myself a new boyfriend who can scratch these itches for me?” Two steps up the stairs, DJ turned around to face me as she reached down and pulled her sports bra up and over her head with a fluid crossover motion. Her big beautiful breasts bounced free and settled into perfectly shaped firm teardrops high on her chest, hard pink nipples staring me right in the eyes.

I groaned as my balls twitched again, my quarter-hard cock thickening past half-hard almost immediately. “Deej...”

“You could do that for me, couldn’t you? As long as it’s what I really want?”

“Is it?”

Biting her lower lip, DJ glanced past me at Dawn, who stood silently beside me with her eyes clicking back and forth between us. DJ’s gaze returned to me as she explained, “It’s been a month since you made me go celibate, a month without cock, and even the Ben Juniors can’t completely satisfy me. Can we just make tonight ‘not count’ or something? Can you just help make my mind go blank for a couple of hours? You’re good at that, no matter what interpersonal turmoil might be going on between us. That’s all that happened last time after I dumped Doug’s cheating ass, and things have gone pretty well since then, right? We’ve been developing a good friendship based on things other than sex.”

“But if you use me for sex tonight, that resets us right back to Square One.”

DJ shook her head. “I don’t care. We’ll work it out again in the morning. Tonight I need you, alright? You can even bend me over your knee and spank me again.”

I groaned once more, my cock now fully hard. But I tore my gaze away from DJ’s naked torso and took a deep breath. “You know we can’t. Tease or no tease, this is a test for both of us – our first real test to see if we’d fall back into old habits of convenient, opportunistic sex. And if we fail this test tonight, how much easier will it be to fail the next, and the next, and the next? I don’t want to start a cycle we’ll never get out of. I care about you too much to trap you like that.”

“Trap me?”

I shook my head slowly and turned back to look at her, this time keeping my eyes firmly on her face. “I have to let you go, and you have to let go of me. You said you wish you could stop needing me, stop being in love with me, and that’s not gonna happen if I... ‘scratch your itch’ ... every time a craving hits.”

“These itches aren’t about love so much as plain fucking horniness...”

“Perhaps, but deep down you don’t really want me to give in. That would mean my lust for you was more important than my love for you, and you’d rather know that I can continue to be your friend and love you the way I always promised I would. You need me to prove that I’ll still love you just as much, and care about your interests just as much, and want to be around you just as much, even though you’re not bending over for me every time I want you to. Then and only then will you believe that our relationship isn’t based solely on how awesome the sex is.”

Sighing heavily, DJ crossed her arms over her chest, this time covering her naked boobs from view. “You’re right, you’re right,” she muttered before pressing her lips together and sighing with sagging shoulders.

“I promised I’d love you like a brother, like Family, and that means considering what’s really best for you above my fondness for your hot, sexy, incredible body.” I let my eyes yo-yo up and down that fantastic half-naked physique for emphasis.

“Hmph.” DJ put her hands back on her hips, revealing her impressive bosom to me once more. “I’m not sure whether to be glad you care about me so much to say no, or peeved that you actually can turn down this hot body when I’m throwing myself at you. Girl’s got her ego to protect after all.”

“Well,” I winced. “To be honest, if I’d gone more than a month without sex like you have, there’s no way I’d be able to say no. Plus, it’s much easier for me to turn you down when Dawn’s standing right here by my side, and I know she would be more than happy to help me out with my not-so-little problem.”

DJ smirked as she stared straight at the tent in my basketball shorts. “I’m sure that having her beside you is the ultimate easy way out for you, and I’m sure she would be more than happy to help you out, but unfortunately she won’t be able to do that for you tonight.”

I frowned, not understanding. “Huh?”

DJ’s smirk widened into a smug grin. “Dawn and I made a little bet before that final game. We all knew you two hadn’t won a game all night, and she said that your competitive spirit would kick in to make sure that you guys won no matter what, while I assured her that Bert and I would win. So we made a bet, a bet that -I- won, and Dawn’s the prize.”

“Wait, what?”

“Dawn’s the prize, so I get to keep her tonight. A bet’s a bet.”

“Waitaminute! I never agreed to this bet!”

DJ shook her head. “I never bet with you; I bet with her. She’s not your girlfriend, and even if she was, you don’t own her. She lost, so she has to be my sexual slave and spend the night with me tonight.”

“But ... but...” Wide-eyed, I turned to gawk at my best friend.

Dawn stared at her feet sheepishly, her face bright pink. “Sorry. I never thought we’d actually lose that last game. I would’ve rather enjoyed having her as my sexual slave tomorrow after you’re gone.”

Stepping back down onto the main floor, DJ reached out with one hand to grab Dawn’s elbow and tug my best friend over to the stairs. The motion made DJ’s big tits jiggle nicely, drawing my attention for just a moment.

“We’re both sweaty and grimy,” DJ drawled, “so we’re gonna start with a shower together. Then we’re gonna take our time drying each other off before retiring to my big bed and buckling her into a Ben Junior strap-on, all while leaving my bedroom door WIDE open so you can hear. If you want, you’re welcome to come in, watch, and jerk off; but you know you’re not allowed to touch me, and since she’s my sexual slave tonight, I can order her to not touch you, either.”

I groaned and sagged my shoulders. “Seriously?”

“A bet’s a bet,” DJ repeated smugly.

Rolling my eyes, I muttered, “You know I could just go home and get laid there. Or even pay a spontaneous visit to the Tri-Delt Chapter House.”

DJ shrugged. “You could, but then you’d basically be telling me that your sexual gratification is more important than proving to me you’ll continue to love me the way you promised even without a safety valve like Dawn helping you flush the pipes. Go ahead ... get laid ... and show me that you can only resist fucking me if there’s a convenient other body to lie beneath you.”

I clapped a hand over my forehead and groaned. “Laying on the guilt trip pretty thick, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps. But are you gonna deny the truth in what I’m saying?”

“I’m staying, I’m staying, alright?”

DJ smirked again. “Don’t feel so glum. Your abstinence tonight only makes our friendship stronger.”

“Yeah, yeah, stop rubbing it in.”

“Besides,” DJ continued. “If you bailed, you’d be leaving Dawn without her weekly shagging – the same weekly shagging -I- have to listen to every weekend without being allowed to join in just to prove your stupid point about maintaining a relationship not based on sex. You could never do THAT to her, right?”

“I already said I’m staying, dammit!” Shooting her a dirty look, I shook my head and turned to head back into Dawn’s bedroom to grab my towel and a change of clothes for my own shower.

But before I got away, DJ suddenly tugged on MY elbow. A moment later, her arms snaked around my neck as she shoved those big naked melons into my chest and planted a fat kiss right on my lips. She moaned and hummed in obvious heat, raising a leg around my hips as she began to grind her pelvis against the bulge in my shorts. But just as suddenly as she’d started the kiss, she broke it off and backed away.

“I DO love you for this, and thank you for staying and showing me that you care,” she stated sincerely.

“I do,” I assured her, still blinking in surprise at the kiss.

With a coy smile, DJ took Dawn’s hand in hers and started up the stairs. Dawn gave me a helpless shrug and an apologetic look, but she followed along. I watched them go out of sight, remaining rooted to my spot on the floor until I heard the shower turn on, followed by feminine giggling. And only then did I turn around to take a shower of my own.

I did NOT go upstairs to watch and jerk off. Instead I remained downstairs, cleaning myself up and then watching TV, trying VERY hard (and failing) to not listen to the noise.

Erections are interesting things. They’re very hard to control and act as if they have a mind of their own. It’s nearly impossible to mentally “will” a penis to become hard if it doesn’t want to, and almost as difficult to mentally “will” it to remain hard if it doesn’t want to. Generally-speaking, a penis responds to a physical stimulus by increasing blood flow and becoming hard, and similarly responds to a mentally erotic stimulus in the same way.

And then you have erections like the one I got that night, the kind that get hard and stay hard without any kind of mental OR physical stimulus and sorta refuse to go away. There are pharmaceutical advertisements that warn men to see their doctor if they ever have an erection lasting more than four hours, but what would I tell a doctor about an erection I couldn’t get rid of without having taken any funky pills?

Okay, that’s an exaggeration; I didn’t keep the same erection for more than four hours or anything. I’d sorta get an erection, slowly let it go away, and would then get another erection a few minutes later ... all without any physical or mental stimulus.

Okay, that’s a slight exaggeration, too. My penis really didn’t have any physical stimulus, unless you count the almost imperceptible stimulation of my junk moving against the fabric of my boxer shorts each time I adjusted my position on the couch, which I don’t. But I did have a little mental stimulus, since DJ did leave her bedroom door wide open. And while I tried very hard to ignore the noises floating down the stairs, I sorta failed to do so completely.