Chapter 4

Behind his steering wheel, Wilson adjusted the rearview mirror to watch the scene in the back. His grin was possibly even broader than his boss's. He had seen enough already.

In the end, all girls are born equal. That much he had learned since he was driving for Shaq. Black or white, red or yellow, voluptuous or hard bodied, rich or poor, young or old... You name it. Over time he had observed them ALL on that backseat, and they ALL were after just one thing: BLACK COCK. In ample size please, thank you. Wilson could now add one entry to his list: "Famous, or a nobody."

In the absence of other thoughts, the amateur anthropologist within him often pondered about what it was with girls. Did they get up in the morning with the image of big black penises in their minds, or was it only while eating a banana? Whatever, it meant that being Afro-American had at least ONE advantage in the end. Michael Jackson had to be MORE nuts than nuts!

On the backseat behind him, Anna meanwhile bent over towards Shaq until they were cheek-to-cheek. Her luscious lips almost touched his earlobes when she whispered:

"You've seen already most of me now. So, when are you going to show it?"

"Show what??"

"Your ebone-er of course," she added with an arch smile, and quick as a weasel she gave the ridge in his pants a gentle queeze.

Shaq was caught by surprise and made a little jump in his seat. Yes, his cock had been touched and handled many, many times before in this car, on this seat. Even without shorts around it! But never unanticipated like this.

Anna sniggered.

"A-HAA! Did I find your Achilles' heel?" she laughed.

Then, with a roguish look in her eyes: "I'll promise not to tell anybody. IF we can have some fun together, that is!"

Shaq's eyes continued growing wider; since the very second when the sexy blonde had transformed into Anna Kournikova by putting off her glasses, he had switched from "fuck"-mode to "conversation"-mode, which was not to his liking, so he had forced a wry smile all the time (Anna was much better at faking it for the camera).

No, he didn't mind meeting Anna, far from. But his agenda for this afternoon had originally contained a good solid fuck and that was the last thing he expected from her. Yeah, it had been often talk-of-the-day in the dressing rooms, after yet another match where she had shown up as spectator. They jokingly speculated about when she was going to join the Lakers Girls. Not one single player didn't want to fill her every hole, it seemed. But that was guy talk, and this was REALITY. Lakers stars fucked cheerleaders or candidates, but that's as far as their privileges reached. Girls like Anna, or Beyoncé for example, remained elusive even for them. Even NBA stars can still dream. Or you had to get very lucky.

And Shaq started to realize that maybe he HAD gotten very lucky!

"Hey, are you ASLEEP or what?"