The Spirit Girl

I was only dimly aware that during all this hugging and kissing the crotch monster woke up again. I was so focused on kissing, I wasn't paying any attention to my erection. I did notice Sam drop one arm though. A moment later I felt her hand gently touching me and guide me towards her opening. Once lined up, my penis seemed to enter her all by itself. Sam put both arms around me again and drew up her legs around me. Now that I was inside her, I made love to her with slow strokes, but it was almost like being on autopilot. My focus was on sharing our love with our minds, our hearts, and our lips. Although they are often used interchangeably, "intimacy" implies more than "intercourse;" it implies a sharing, a closeness with your partner. This was intimacy.

Of course, if you own a dick you know that if you allow it to be stimulated, it will demand your attention. So while I kept kissing and snuggling, slowly more and more of my attention and effort was diverted further south. As I was working, I reached between Sam's legs, feeling for her clitoris. I found it, and started to rub, when Sam's hand caught mine. "Please don't," she asked meekly, "I don't want to cum. I've had all of the emotions I can take for one day."

I slowed to a stop. "Are you sure? Do want me to stop?"

She shook her head resolutely. "No. I want feel you inside me. I want to make you happy; I want to feel you cum. I'll still enjoy it even if I don't cum myself." My look was skeptical. "Promise," she purred, then kissed me. I believed her. I resumed stroking, and when the kiss ended I lifted my shoulders off the bed to focus on the sex. But even so, it was different. Some guys like to get rough with a girl in bed; this was the opposite. I felt like my penis was ensconced in a vessel of infinite rarity, precious beyond value, not fragile but breakable, something that should be cherished, polished, and viewed with awe and reverence. I made love to her, and eventually I was thrusting hard and fast, but all the while I was keenly attuned to her, careful that my enjoyment of her resources did not damage the delicate soul that possessed it.

Like most men I suppose, I'm very visually stimulated. A lot of times what gets me off is visual; the particular curve of the breast at a given moment, or how her body is lying, or with Sam sometimes her belly. But this time, I never once took my eyes off of Sam's face while making love. We gazed into each others' eyes, feeling a closeness I'd never experienced. Yet her face was encouraging at the same time; she meant it when she said she wanted to feel me cum inside her. And I could also see that she meant it that just because she didn't have an orgasm didn't mean she didn't enjoy the experience. I climaxed after watching Sam, responding to a pleasurable sensation, sighed softly while blinking her eyes languidly...it was just so sexy, and so eloquently communicated her desire to satisfy me. Her eyes opened wider as she felt my penis get rigid; then she closed her eyes to focus on the sensations of receiving my orgasm deep within her belly. As I collapsed on top of her, I whispered again "I love you Sam."

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With the Jammers out of the playoffs, the team was just playing out the string for the last two weeks of the season. They would eventually finish 38-44. Marshall Jacobs ended up coming in third in the Rookie of the Year voting, in large part because we failed to reach the playoffs.

For my grandpa's birthday in June, he invited the whole family up to his beach house. Being a basketball family, there is a paved half court behind the house. But while the other women spent all day down on the beach, Sam was more interested in joining the boys and playing basketball. I don't think the other women were too sad about that, because when we did go down to the water Sam looked much better in a bikini than any of them. Out on the court we play 2's, 3's, on rare occasions full 5-on-5. But most often at the beach house we play one-on-one king of the mountain, with whoever is not playing drinking beer on the sidelines and watching. I was wiping off sweat with a towel and cracking a cold one, having just lost to Sam. Her quickness balanced my height advantage, so we were pretty evenly matched. With the game tied and me holding the ball, she cheated. She was hand-checking me as I dribbled, deciding how I was going to try to get clean for a game-winner. But Sam all of a sudden raised her eyebrows at me, then lifted the index finger of her free hand and sensually slipped it into her mouth to simulate fellatio. I couldn't help but remember how it amazing felt when she sucked on my dick in that same sensual way. With my attention thoroughly diverted, she stole the ball and drove for an easy lay-up to win. From the sidelines, grandpa applauded. I protested, but Sam came over and kissed me as a consolation prize, whispering that she would make it up to me later while grabbing my crotch in a way no one could see. "I'm going to make you pay for that, sweetheart," I murmured.

"I'd be sorely disappointed if you didn't" she purred. Fortunately, that wasn't an idle promise--grandpa believed in treating the adults like adults. He knew that it wouldn't be as much fun to be up at the beach house if boys and girls were separated for sleeping, so he let us share beds with our girlfriends and boyfriends --something that never would have flown while grandma was alive. She was gonna get a serious dicking tonight--and she was gonna love it.

Since she beat me, though, Sam was king of the hill and had next game. Some of the other grandkids resented the fact that Sam was playing ball with the boys instead of laying out on the beach like the other girls. After they saw her beat me, a few were determined to take her down. Leading that pack and first challenger up was my kid brother. You can imagine how irate he was when she scored the first four points of the game. I was sitting next to grandpa, enjoying my beer, watching the game--but really I was watching Sam. It was hot, so all she was wearing on the court was the tiniest little sports bra and short-shorts. She was also oiled up with sunblock, so her ample visible skin was tan and glistening in the sun. It was pure art to watch her body in motion on the court. It's a good thing I was wearing loose shorts, cuz I was sporting major wood.

I got up for a minute to grab a fresh beer. I got a glimpse of grandpa's eyes as I headed back to my lounger and realized that he, too, was watching Sam more than he was watching the game. Just then my brother elbowed Sam to get to the hole and knocked her over. I was ready to jump out onto the court and defend my honey, but before I took a step she bounced right back up again. Grandpa saw the foul too and declared that Sam be awarded a foul shot. I sat down while Sam calmly stepped to the line and swished the free throw while my brother seethed. But that free throw... what a thing of beauty! Not the shot, which was plenty fine; I meant the sheer artistry of watching her shoot it: peeking down her sports bra while she bent over dribbling, admiring her thighs while she got set at the line, and marveling at her abs at the top of her release... WOW. Who says basketball can't be sexy? I felt like pinching myself: that lovely thing was actually MY girlfriend. Then I noticed that grandpa was shaking his head, and I realized it was because he had just been watching the same things I'd been watching. "I tell you Davis, were that I were a younger man... That Samantha girl is a real find. You don't find girls like that every day." I wondered if he meant because of hot she was, or because she was a basketball girl. I decided he meant both.

While I nodded in agreement, Sam boxed my brother out after he missed a shot and got a clean rebound. She took the ball back to the half-court line, then she looked over our way. She had no idea of course that we were talking about her, but she must have sensed that I and possibly grandpa too were looking at her. Even across the court our eyes met--and it just felt like all they saw was me. There were plenty of other people around, but I loved her, she loved me, and no one else mattered. At that moment, I felt I MUST be the luckiest guy in the world. Then my brat brother ruined the moment. Noticing she was distracted, he stole the ball and finally got on the board again. Nonplussed, Samantha got the ball back and smoothly drained a shot from the top of the key. "Amazing," my grandfather sighed in admiration. "You know, I'm not about to tell anyone how they should live their life--but if EVER there was a girl that was BORN to be a part of this family, she's it!"

Lately, more and more, I've been thinking exactly the same thing.