Chapter 2

Anna 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.