Disclaimers: Each and every character in my little story resides only in my mind. If they are partaking in sexual stuff, they are over 18 years of age. Not sure what category this belongs in, but I will figure it out. To be honest, there is some lesbian activity. Be forewarned. Finally, if I use any name of a real person, it is purely for authenticity.
My name is Evelyn Bond, or Evy as my parents have always called me. I am approaching my 28th birthday, and have just been told by one of the preeminent Orthopedic Surgeons in this area, that my professional basketball career is over.
I just finished my 6th season in the WNBA, with the Seattle Storm, which happened to be my best season, when I suffered the knee injury that ultimately ended my playing days.
I wasn't even playing basketball. I slipped walking down the steps in front of the house my grandmother had bought me when I signed my contract to play in Seattle.
It seems as if she didn't want me to pay rent, as women pro players' salaries didn't come anywhere near what men make. Besides, she was loaded, and I was her only granddaughter.
After playing since I was 6 years old, and never having anything close to an injury, I slip on my fucking stairs, and just like that, the thing I love the most is gone.
A little background information is called for, here. My father played a little ball, in his college days, at Harvard, but even standing just under 7 feet tall, his future was in finance, not the NBA.
When I started to play in the first grade, I was already taller than any first grader in my school. It took until I was in 8th grade before there was a boy taller than the 6'2" I had grown to. I topped out my Junior year of high school at just over 6'4".
Since I only weighed about 135, to call me gangly was an understatement. Along with having nearly no need of a bra, I endured all the mindless nicknames the boys could throw at me. The Carpenter's Delight, flat as a board. Was I suffering from TB? Two Backs. Yes, I heard them all. If it wasn't for the support from my parents, I might not have grown into the mature, but flat chested young lady I became. It also didn't hurt that I had a better jump shot than most of them and nobody in our entire school could shoot free throws better than me.
As my Senior year of high school was coming to an end, I was being recruited by close to 100 colleges, from all over the country. One thing I heard from several of the top coaches in the country was, you can't teach 6'4". Either you're tall, or you're not. Having a really good jump shot didn't hurt, either.
One by product of my height, was an extreme lack of dates. I did go out with two different young men from my school, but I found it very embarrassing not being able to wear anything close to sexy clothing. With no tits to speak of, nothing made me seem desirable.
If my mother didn't sit with me for hours telling me there was so much more than boobs to make me a woman, I don't know how I would have survived.
After my high school graduation, in suburban New York City, it was time to pick a college. Yes, education came first, but I wanted to play basketball at the highest level. I took several recruiting trips. South Carolina. Way too rural. Duke. Too stuck up. Notre Dame. Just didn't fit, for me. UConn, what seemed the obvious choice, but I finally picked Rutgers. Mainly, because their coach impressed me the most.
It wasn't that far from home, and since I didn't have a clue what I wanted to major in, I started with a clean slate.
I became a starter, my first game in college, ending my Freshman season as our team's second highest scorer. Speaking of scoring, I was still a virgin, but at least I went on a few dates. Yes, both times, the young men were shorter than me, and yes, they tried to convince me to let them into my panties. Neither of these guys were special enough, for me to let that happen. I realized I was getting a reputation of being stuck up. And, yes, the L word was being whispered. Several girls tried their luck with me, but after one date with a very nice girl, I just couldn't continue on that path.
My basketball career was succeeding, my education was doing very well, but my social life was stuck in low gear. I did start developing a new hobby. Photography. I started spending time outdoors taking as many pictures as I could. Anything and everything was fair game.
During the summer between my 2nd and 3rd year, I started dating a young man who truly liked me for me. Yes, he was shorter than me, by only an inch or so. Yes, we dated all summer, and yes, I finally lost my virginity, willingly. Gene was a year ahead if me, and from near Atlanta, giving me a perspective of another part of the country.
During my Junior year, Gene graduated, and got a very good job offer back in Atlanta, so, sadly, I was without a social life, again. My basketball career was doing well, and I still had the full support of my parents, so I pushed on.
Onto my final season of basketball, and getting my degree in Business. Also, my hobby was taking hold, meaning my time away from the basketball court was getting to be a lot of fun. I started taking pictures of people, finding as many interesting folks as I could want. Going to school so close to New York City, I never lacked for subject matter.
Onto the WNBA draft. I had never been a anywhere west of Ohio, for more than a basketball game, so getting drafted by Seattle had me running to my computer to see what this city had to offer.
I did find out that this was already a very good team, and the area seemed to be very welcoming. Visiting, right after the draft, meeting the team ownership, and local media, convinced me this would be a good fit.
It didn't hurt that the entire Puget Sound region was a photographer's dream. Mountains. The Pacific Ocean. Many lakes, plus rivers just waiting for me and my cameras.
During my first few seasons, I mainly spent my extra time adapting my game to the pro level. I also was making friends both on and off the court. I do admit to starting birth control pills, remembering what a few girls had told me in college, that they would increase my bust line. Total bullshit, at least in my case.
While playing in games, I did wear sort of a bra/camisole that covered my barely A cup boobs. In truth, it covered my very sensitive nipples.
During this time I did start dating, and did have a few boy friends who wound up in my bed. Or me in theirs. Nothing that ever led me to think they were husband material.
After my third season, I started working on a local picture book. I found an endless supply of material, along with the new found talent of writing about what my photos showed. I finished the book during the off season, found both an editor and publisher, so while I was battling the opposition on the court, my book was getting ready to be published. A side bar is needed here. I never intended on getting rich with this or any other books I created, it was just my outlet for having fun.
Just as my fourth season was ending, I struck up a friendship with a young man who was my polar opposite. He stood just over 5'10", was a little on the chunky side, and was black. Donald Johnson and I met, almost by accident, nearly running into each other in a grocery store.
After our first encounter, we actually made a 'date' to meet for coffee, the next day. Over a cup of coffee, we just talked, learning about each other. He knew I was a pro basketball player, with me finding out he was an accountant, or so he said. In truth, I had no reason to doubt him.
Over the next few weeks, we met several times, first for coffee, then for lunch. We seemed to be getting along, fine. He didn't seem to mind our height difference, and I didn't mind the racial difference. After a very nice dinner, and an even nicer kiss getting to his car, I made the decision to asking him into my house when we arrived there.
Moving inside my house, he took me into his arms, kissing me with his hands moving to remove my blouse, showing my extremely aroused nipples.
As good as his kisses were, I did not like how rough he was rubbing my nipples.
