Tongue Kiss the Chocolate off my Stomach

Jace

"What's going on with you an' my girl?" Gene asks, pulling her pants up. Her dreads bounce on her shoulders.

"Who?" I ask, knowing damn well who. I adjust my shorts so they don't fall off during practice. The bouncing of basketballs entice my hearing.

"Clio. She been lookin' mighty upset, an' you comin' in here like you got a STD."

Lets hope not.

"We're fine. I am anyway," I answer carefully, tucking in my practice jersey. "And what do you mean, 'your girl'?"

She grins. "Clio fine as fuck. If she liked girls, I'd be all over dat ass like..." She trails off, making a spanking motion in the air.

I roll my eyes. "Go for it anyway."

Gene shrugs. "Nah. I respect her too much. She's the only girl that doesn't run in fear when I walk by. Plus, she hooked me up with some court side seats to a NBA game once."

"That means she wants the D.... The V?" I bend over and start stretching. My bones pop.

Gene laughs. "I fuckin' wish! She's cool as shit, but not a lesbian. She doesn't give off that vibe."

Oh. Sucks for you. I shrug off her words, not sure how to respond to her.

She kneels down in front of me. "You still ain't answer my question, white boy. What's with my girl? If it ain't you, SOMETHIN' wrong. She ain't smiled in a while."

It's bothering me that Gene is curious, and I'm not exactly sure why. "Who knows? It's probably PMS."

Gene rolls her eyes. "I call bull shit. But whatever, I'll ask her today when she comes in for practice."

"Practice for what?"

"Basketball. Coach let her join the team late." Gene smiles, knowing she has my attention fully.

"But... Why would she do that?" It would mean spending more time with me. Something we both know we don't want.

"She likes basketball. Loves it actually. And we don't have a girl's team, so she can play as tough as she wants with the boys."

Oh hell.

I switch legs. "Whatever. As long as she enjoys her life."

The door opens and in comes the topic of our conversation, skipping. Her basketball shoes cover her feet, a mixture of black and light gray. Her Nike shorts hug her curves, and a t-shirt emphasizes her chest. Mmm, and that ponytail.

"Get your tongue off the ground," Gene says, nudging me with a smile on her face. "She's a good, solid eight, huh?"

Absolutely. "EW. No. More like a five at most."

"Yeah.... C'mon, grab a ball so we can get some shots up."

I grab a ball, watching as Clio dribbles between her legs, crosses over and attacks the rim. She rises up for a fade away. The ball swishes through the net.

I work on my own shot, watching the ball clang off the goal. Other people soon file in, and the gym fills up with the sound of basketball and teenagers. Clio's laugh rings in my ears.

"White boys can't jump," Gene says as I gather the ball to dunk it.

I ignore her, springing into the air and finishing with a flourish. The rim rattles when I jump back down. Ahh, feels good to be back in action.

That starts off a dunk contest until Coach comes in.

</3 </3 <\3

"Clio... Guard St. Andrews," Coach Wess orders. "Make sure he doesn't get the ball."