Basement B Ball
by Mat Twassel
Copyright© 2025 by Mat Twassel
Fiction Story: Some one on one sports action. Illustrated.
Caution: This Fiction Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fiction Sports Illustrated .
Standing alongside the basketball court outside St. Caitlin’s, she watched him do a spinning reverse dunk. “Good one,” she said.
He beamed. “You want to try?” He tossed her the ball.
She bounced the ball a few times, walked out past the free throw line, then another fifteen feet and threw one up. Nothing but net, had there been a net. He grunted, gathered up the ball, and tossed it back to her. She bounced it once and let it fly. Swish.
“All right then, that’s your beginner’s luck,” he said, tossing her the ball a third time. Facing away from the basket, she sky-hooked it over her head.
“You think you’re pretty hot, stuff, don’t you?” he said.
She smirked. “I got game.”
“Then you’re up for a little one-on-one?”
“I don’t know, you’re what, six-four in your stocking feet?” She eyed his somewhat battered gym shoes, glanced at his spanking new shorts, his sky-blue jersey, his arrogantly blue eyes, then back to those blue shorts.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“So you’re saying your chicken?”
She shook her head. “Give me the home court advantage and you wouldn’t stand a chance.
“You’re on.”
She led him around the corner of the church to the annex and unlocked the door.
“You have a key, huh?” he said.
She held it up. “It even works. My uncle’s the pastor and Tuesdays I come over to do laundry and wash the floors and stuff.”
He followed her down some stairs and flicked on some flickering lights.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Home court,” she said.
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