I wrote this story in honor of a fan who asked for something specific honoring his girlfriend of Latina heritage. I hope you enjoy. If so, perhaps I'll write another chapter! As always, all characters fully consented and were 18 years old, or older. All characters and the situation are fictional, and any resemblance to real life is purely coincidental.
Football is king in Texas. It always would be, which meant that my boyfriend's lowly basketball team didn't get nearly the support from our fan base. The basketball players were generally regarded as second class citizens. They didn't get the special offseason treatment with sponsorships for travel ball, they didn't get the ideal practice times in the weight room, and they certainly didn't get any extra perks during the season. So, I found myself yet again making the team a pregame meal before our opening game. The boys would come to my classroom to eat a few hours before they played so at least we knew that these boys, many of which were from low income families, would get the nourishment they needed. With my Hispanic heritage, food is one thing I do well.
I heard the timer beep in my kitchen notifying me that the enchiladas were done. I ran quickly into the kitchen to turn the annoying sound off, wearing only my towel as I just hurried out of the shower. I had about 30 more minutes to get a meal on for the players, but I needed to get dressed first. As I hurried back into the bedroom I let the towel fall and took time to admire my petite figure. Standing only at 5'2" tall, I was dwarfed by the team as well as my boyfriend. But, my 34B tits sat perky on my chest and matched my smaller figure quite well. My smooth white skin stood in contrast to my dark brunette hair that I received from my Latina culture. I wiggled into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt showing my support for the team. I finished the look with some light makeup and a pair of sandals with 2" heels. It was time to load up the food and head to the school for our pregame meal.
The boys were already waiting for me when I arrived, and to their credit they helped carry in the food and sports drinks. DeMarco, one of my favorites, held the door open for me as I finally made it through. Always a gentleman, he was the team's center at 6'6", a gorgeous African American boy who I know had a rough home life. He was almost too nice to play the sport and didn't seem to have the aggression he needed to take full advantage of his size. "Miss Kim thank you again for dinner" he stated. "I really love your enchiladas."
"Oh DeMarco, you love anything I cook. And that's fine. You know you're always welcome to have supper with us" I replied as we took the walk toward my room with our dinner in hand.
My boyfriend, Danny, was already speaking a pregame speech as he lined up some game film to view during the dinner. "Last week, the panthers played a tough zone defense against their competition. This is important because I expect they will do the same thing this week to DeMarco. He is our big threat in the center and I expect them to jam up the key. Watch these plays, and notice the passes he makes out of the double and triple teams. The backdoor cut to the hoop may be there on the weak side. The 3-point shot will be there all night too but don't bite on that. We aren't that good from behind the arc....so make sure you keep the ball moving..."
I wasn't paying a lot of attention to the film or Danny's remarks on it. But I was watching the team. DeMarco was wolfing the enchiladas and rice down at a rapid rate, as were many of the other team members. I don't think their focus left the food. A couple of others, Charlie and Angelo, were too busy on their phones to eat or watch the game film. I suspected that tonight's game would be another losing effort to a small crowd that only attended because it was Friday night, and tomorrow would bring college football, but today there wasn't much else going on.
The meal ended and I cleaned up the dishes and packed things out to my car. I figured I could go home and finish cleaning up and be back in time to support our team from the stands. I might even have time to grade a few of the English papers.
Unfortunately, my suspicions were correct. The boys lost by double digits after having a lot of trouble beating the zone. Charlie went 0-6 from behind the arc, and Angelo only made one of his four attempts. There were numerous times I saw the forward, Kenny, open for the backdoor cut but DeMarco never saw him. Our point guard, James, couldn't get his eyes off of his girlfriend long enough to see the right pass. It was a dismal effort against a mediocre and beatable team. I headed home early and mentally prepared for the fact that Danny would be grumpy and probably disinterested in sex tonight. This had been a trend in our relationship lately.
"Kiiiim Baaabbbyyy," Danny slurred as he wandered in a few hours later. I could tell he must have nursed his sorrows in the whiskey with a friend or two. "I'm hoooomeee."
"In here Danny" I responded from the living room sofa where I had been watching Netflix. I was wrapped in a blanket but only wearing a tiny little red negligee underneath. He got a peak of it and wolf whistled.
"Ooooh I could eat you up in that. Fuck you're sexy!" he stammered.
"Oh, I assumed you'd be too grumpy for sex tonight. Maybe I only fuck winners?" I replied sneakily.
"Imagine how hard people would try if they got you when they won?" he blurted. "Those hard nipples poking out like little pencil erasers. That beautiful shaved pussy, so smooth" he stated as he parted my legs and knelt in front of me.
"I guess I could be convinced tonight, lick that pussy babe!" I breathily moaned as he got to work. There was very little I would not do for a good pussy licking. "Tomorrow night when you win I'll give you the best blow job you've ever had."
He mumbled around my snatch, "Deal".
After a wonderful orgasm we both stumbled into bed. I knew his whiskey dick wouldn't be good for anything tonight but I hoped he would be motivated to do better tomorrow.
"Babe?" he whispered in bed.
"Yes," I responded.
"Maybe the boys need some motivation too. Maybe the player with at least 10 points and the highest efficiency should get a blow job too. Can you imagine how hard they would work then?
