I'm back, dear readers! Been writing up a storm over the holiday break; I did manage to churn out a few chapters of the sequel to my King Arthur story, as well as this little number. I've cooked up this short romance for Literotica's 2018 Valentine's Day contest. As you can tell by the title, it has a gaming theme, specifically Pokémon, a game that I'm really big into. I did make sure to write it in such a way that even someone with no familiarity with the game can easily follow along with the action. Even if you were to only skim through the gaming portions, I think you'll still enjoy the story. I'd really appreciate it if y'all could give it a read, and maybe post some honest feedback. Your comments are always helpful in getting my stories ready for the critics. And if you really enjoyed it, I'd appreciate a five-star rating for the contest. Thanks for your continued readership!
*
"And Smallwood drains it for three!"
Click.
Michael Goldman scanned the Auburn Basketball Arena, always looking for the perfect shot for the school newspaper,
The Plainsman
. Allison Smallwood, the star point guard of the women's basketball team, always made for an excellent target. Not only was she a fantastic athlete, but she was also a pretty blonde with a dazzling smile.
"Foul on Georgia, and Smallwood steps to the free throw line!"
Click. Click.
As he snapped a few more shots, Michael couldn't help but smile. Even as socially awkward as he was, he seemed to thrive whenever he was on the job. While behind the camera, he was able to see the world around him not as the annoying bunch of people he had to deal with, but as a collection of models waiting for him to capture the perfect moment. Still, it'd be nice to have a sweet girl to go home to after work, but Michael wasn't holding out much hope. Most girls weren't attracted to the stereotypical Jewish kid: scrawny with curly black hair, pale skin complexion, and a bit of a large nose. As much as Michael tried to downplay the cliché, there really was no escaping it.
A sudden thud from the court snapped Michael out of his daydream, and he saw one of the other girls down on the floor. A quick glance at his roster sheet told him it was Desiree Bonner, the starting forward. As he went to work with his camera, he was relieved to see that her injuries didn't look too serious. Soon, she was being tended to by one of the trainers.
"There she is," Michael breathed.
Michael still had no idea who she was, but the student trainer that worked with the women's basketball team was nothing short of a knockout. She was maybe 5'5" with light ash blonde hair, and her sharp eyes and wry smile seemed to indicate that she had a keen intellect to go with her stunning good looks. As she worked on Desiree, Michael couldn't help but snap a few shots of the two of them, making sure that both the trainer and player were in focus. What he would give for a shot with her. Soon, the buzzer interrupted his fantasies, forcing him back to reality.
"Well, back to work..."
So it went for the rest of the game. No further injuries occurred for Auburn, so Michael didn't get any further glimpses of the little goddess that tended to the players. The Lady Tigers kept the game close, but Georgia was just the better team in the end, and the Bulldogs ended up winning 67-62. This didn't come as a huge surprise to Michael. Throughout the season, the team had proved to be talented but young, with Smallwood being the only real veteran on the team. Considering that she was only a sophomore, the team had nowhere to go but up in the coming seasons.
After a final series of shots as the teams shook hands, Michael texted his boss up in the press box. The reply thanked Michael for his hard work and instructed him to take the rest of the night off; his boss would handle photography at the postgame press conference. This suited Michael just fine, as he had gotten more than enough of people for the day. After packing up his camera gear, he headed out to his bike to begin the trek back to his apartment.
*****
As he reclined on the sofa in his living room, Michael grabbed his Nintendo 3DS and powered up his copy of
Pokémon Sun
, intending to waste away the rest of the evening with some online battles. On the other side of the room stood Antonio, Michael's roommate. He was a tall drink of water by any standard, and his dark chocolate skin and shaved head gave him quite a striking appearance. Still, he was as nerdy as Michael was, perhaps even more so, and tried to communicate this with his black horn-rimmed glasses. Of course, with his height and good looks, that only served to make him even more irresistible to the opposite sex. As was his usual Thursday evening routine, he stood with iron in hand, pressing his shirts for the coming weekend, no doubt for a Valentine's Day date of some sort.
"Dammit," Michael muttered.
"What's wrong, man?" Antonio asked.
"Another rage quitter. That's three in a row!"
"You gettin' that good?" Antonio wondered with a laugh.
"No, the level of competition has definitely gone down in the last few months. Not sure what's happening. Still, I can't help it that I'm kicking so much ass!"
"Sounds like you need some stronger competition."
"Yeah, but I know you don't play Pokémon anymore."
"True. I ain't got the time to put in. But maybe you ought to consider joining the local League?"
"League? I thought you said the president of the AU Pokémon League was a total asshole?" Michael replied.
"He is, but it's gonna be your best bet for some decent people to play against. Besides, none of them will rage quit on you; it's against their rules. If they do, they get put on probation. Too many times, and they're kicked out."
"Hmm... maybe so. When's the next meeting?"
"Tomorrow, actually. They meet at the GameStop on University Parkway."
"Thanks, I'll check it out." Hearing the steam from Antonio's iron, Michael remarked, "Dude, you're fucking obsessed with clothes. It's a little disturbing."
"What can I say? The ladies love a man wearing a freshly pressed shirt!"
"Yeah, right. I'd bet you're in the closet. Great cover, by the way," Michael snorted.
"Hey, that hurts," Antonio whined, feigning a heart attack. "I can't help it if I'm that much better than you with the women, just like you can't help it you're so much better than those idiots online!"