Tomboy 7

Suggested by a 3-word prompt - Friends. Massage. Tomboy.

According to the thesaurus, synonyms for "massaged" include "falsified," "misrepresented," "manipulated," ... and "altered." :-)

***

Gary's apartment building was right across the street from the local basketball court, so that's where I always stashed my clothes when I was shooting hoops with the guys. Sometimes he let me shower there too. I don't mind taking the train home sweaty, but I also didn't mind doing it fresh from the shower, since my hair dries in, like, seconds.

"Good game! Good game ... OK, see you next week, guys! Adam, don't feel bad, man, my little sister used to play just as bad as you. HA!"

"You coming up? You got a few minutes to hang out?"

"I'm free the rest of the day, Gary, if you want to get a pizza or something."

"Nice."

Gary is pretty cool. He and I have been friends for years, and while some guys can be kinda creepy, Gary and the rest of our little group are pretty laid-back, and I don't have to fend off drunken advances or anything. I don't have them looking at me with lust in their eyes. They don't even ask me out on dates. Which is a relief, most of the time. Like, ninety percent of the time.

Eighty percent. At least.

"You still want that pineapple shit on your half?" he asks me as we head up the stairs.

"Dude, I'm telling you, just try it. You'll want pineapple all over the fucking thing next time."

"Gross."

I'm kind of a tomboy. I'm athletic, I prefer sports to fashion, and my look is generally what I think of as "practical." So I don't get a lot of guys looking at me in "that" way. When they do look, they see a butch-looking dyke (or so they imagine) and their eyes unfocus and they look right past me. Through me.

I'm not complaining, not much anyway. I like not getting too much attention from jerks.

My basketball buddies just see me as one of the dudes. Which as I say is a relief. I tend to wear baggy jeans and a sweatshirt over a T shirt. If I'm really feeling special, I'll wear a tight tank top - one of those ribbed gray tanks that Hanes sells for boys, usually - with a plaid flannel shirt open over it. Getting the picture? Not centerfold material. Not second-look material.

"Motherfucker, just order the pizza," I laugh as I grab my duffel bag and head for the shower. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Don't clog up my drain with too much hair, now!"

"Har de har."

At least the tanktop shows a bit of cleavage. But that's counterbalanced by the hair. I have "practical" hair - short, real short, and dark, almost black. You know Rachel Maddow? Like hers.

I don't like fussing with my hair, never did, and the more my mom used to complain that I didn't look girly enough, the shorter I'd cut it. On warmer days, when boys pass by, I watch their eyes. They see the cleavage, they smirk, their eyes travel up to my hair ... and they frown, slightly, and keep walking. I've seen it again and again.

I have lesbian hair.

I don't care, I really don't. I don't need the attention. But it gets tiresome. And doesn't raise my opinion of boys in general. Men.

Women are different. Sometimes a girl will see my hair, smile, look down, see the cleavage, smile bigger, then come over to say hi. And I always have to say, apologetically, "Sorry, I like boys."

So, yeah. Nice to know I'm attractive to someone I guess. Just wish I could get laid once in a while.

I came out of the bathroom ten minutes later, pulling a sweatshirt over my sports bra and shorts. The sweatpants could wait til I cooled down a little. "Anything you wanna watch?"

"Baby Driver?"

"Cue it up," I said, getting two beers from his fridge.

"Hey," said Gary as he did so, "everything OK with your leg? You looked like it was really hurting you earlier."

"My leg?"

"Yeah, I thought you twisted something or something, you were really favoring your left leg for a while there. I thought we weren't gonna win, for a minute!"

"As if," I said, throwing myself on the couch.

Gary just shrugged. But in the minute of silence that followed, I flexed one calf, then the other. Twisted my left, then my right. Feeling them, from the inside, sort of. When I turned my right leg to look at it from different angles, looking for bruises, I caught him watching me.

"Fucker, you're getting inside my head!" I smacked his arm. "Knock it off ..."

Baby had barely started singing along with the "Bellbottoms" song when Gary said, "I could massage it for you if that would help."

I watched the ensuing car chase for a minute and then said, "Yeah, OK."

At his direction, I laid down on the couch, on my stomach, head turned to watch the TV.

"I just got this new massage lotion stuff I've been wanting to try out," he said as he walked around the couch, to the side table and back. I was barely listening, watching Baby do his stunt driving away from the cops.

"Uh huh."

"It's called Golden Blonde Bubbles, it's supposed to be - "

"Dude, I don't care, just do it. And ssshhh."

He sat on my feet and started rubbing it into my right calf. Within a minute or two I was feeling warm tingles spreading through my whole leg, and by the time he had moved over to start on my left I was moaning.

"Damn, that's good," I groaned. "I didn't know how much I was hurting until you made me feel better!"

"Good! I'm glad to hear that."

He rubbed for a while longer. The warmth was heating my toes, my calves, and sending tendrils of golden-brown bubbles sizzling up my thighs toward my ass. I clenched my butt, moaning some more.

"I'm going to move up a little. That OK?"

"Of course it is!! Don't stop!"

Silly Gary! I love his massages and I never make him stop below the knee. Idiot ...

Oh holy cow that's good. I was watching Kevin Spacey talking, but I could barely focus on the screen. Gary's warm hands on my thighs were heating up my legs - and other parts too. Just like every time he massaged me.

Or ... Is that right? When did he last give me a massage? I couldn't seem to remember, for a minute ... But it didn't matter. I giggled, at the warmth and the tickles of the feelings spreading through my legs from his lotion-y hands. And then I was so surprised to giggle, I giggled again!

"Wow, what is this stuff?"

"Pizza's coming soon," he muttered. Which seemed like a non sequitur, but I was too distracted to ask a follow up question. Or at the moment, to remember the term "non sequitur."

He paused to squirt more into his hands, then I felt both his strong hands squeeze my right thigh. Thumbs pressing into the muscles in the back, fingers wrapped around tight, very high up, at the edge of my shorts. My eyes crossed. "Ohhh ggodddd..." He worked his way down my leg, squeezing, sliding, rubbing, working over the muscles, until he reached my bare foot. His strong fingers attacked my ankles, gently squeezed my toes, stretching them out, his thumbs pressing into the sole of my foot ... then up to the other thigh, high, high up, and I could feel myself getting aroused ... grinding into the couch ... and his slick hands massaged all the muscles from just south of my ass all the way down to my toes. It was the sweetest agony. The areas of my legs that he wasn't currently working on felt like they were growing, or shrinking, or twisting, in the muscles, the bones, everything was shifting, improving, somehow ...

Either his fingers were magic, or this lotion was!

"Lift up your sweatshirt," Gary said in a firm voice, and I obeyed instantly. Just like always! God, it felt so good, his hands on me! The lotion, so sweet-smelling now, sunk into the skin on my lower back, and again I felt that wonderful sensation of electricity shooting through me, of warmth spreading, of bubbles floating and popping under my skin.

I couldn't really follow the movie. It was some kind of heist movie, with car chases and too much talking? It was complicated, and I can't usually follow complicated ... Gary should know that! I don't know why he put it on, unless it was just to remind me that he's smarter than me ... He does that sometimes ...

"Gaaarryy ... Whyy are we watching th-oooohhhh!!"

"Hush now, baby, just enjoy the massage. You like the Golden Blonde Bubbles?"

"I LOVE it!! Don't stop, don't staaahhhhhppp... Ooh, I'm getting all wet!" I giggled. "Oh, I guess I shouldn't say that ..."

"That's what always happens, though, doesn't it?"

He was right, of course it was! Part of why I always ask for a massage when I go to Gary's house ...

"Let's get that sweatshirt off."

What? Oh I couldn't believe how silly I was ... What was I doing wearing a sweatshirt? I couldn't stand the things most of the time, and I definitely knew better than to be so covered up in the presence of a man ... I struggled to pull it over my head while still lying on my stomach, and of course that made my long blonde hair fall all over my face and in my eyes. I laughed.

His strong hands rubbed the Bubbles all over my back now, around the sports bra, and I could feel that familiar sensation again of tickles and giggles spreading throughout my body, making my ass twitch and my skin tingle and my bones almost seem to stretch and shrink. I was like a puddle, my body a liquid, a fluid, in a girl-shaped container, and I had a momentary feeling of the container shifting and puddle-me flowing within it, fluidly reshaping ... but that was so silly. I had to giggle again.

"Honey? Why don't we watch a romannic comedy or something? This is hard to follow ... Ooh! Or Twilight??"

"On your back now," is all he said.

I flipped over, my huge tits flowing and bouncing inside the sports bra that barely contains them on the best days.

"That's not doing its job, you better take it off."

"I knowww!! It's like, I can never find bras that fit, but like, these sorta help? They kinda hurt, but they just mush my titties up against me real hard so I can play sports!!" I said breathlessly, yanking the bra off over my head. "Ogod that feels sooo much better!! They can breathe now! I mean - hee! I can breathe now!!"

He straddled my hips, rubbing more of the lotion on his hands. The moment he touched his palms to my big boobies, I gasped. My cunt gushed as he kneaded my titflesh, caressing and squeezing my nipples, the warm, bubbly, giggly feelings rippling out through my chest into my tummy and up into my head, making my scalp tingle and my brain go fuzzy.

"Baby??" I moaned, barely able to push words out my ... my ... my face hole? "Please can we fuck? Whyyy aren't we fucking???"

"Almost time," said Gary. "Pizza's almost here."

I whimpered. He put the tube aside and got up, unzipping his jeans. "I think you're ready," he said. "And so am I."

His cock was huge, big as ever, and I slid off the couch onto my knees, just like every time. It's the main reason I love shooting hoops with the guys! Cuz Gary lives right by the court, and I get to blow him after!!

I knelt before him, topless, my enormous melons in my hands as I obediently opened my mouth for him to guide his cock into it. He twined his hands in my long blonde hair, and slid his dick between my plump lips in long, slow strokes. I moaned, because it always feels so good to have warm cock on my tongue. I fondled my tits as I sucked and slurped on his fat cock. I was so glad I didn't have to think about stuff!! Just suck cock and play with my titties!!

Before long there was a knock at the door. He pulled out of my sucking lips with a 'pop' and pulled me gently to my feet. "Go get the door, sweetheart," he said.

I nodded brightly and bounced toward the door.

"Angel."

"Uh huh?"

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

I looked down. I was wearing nothing but basketball shorts, my big bazooms swaying bare. "Oh! How silly of me!!"

I hooked two thumbs in the waistband and pulled down the shorts and my panties in one quick movement.

"There we go!!"

I hopped over to the door stark naked, my dripping, bare pussy on display, my smile big and wide as I threw it open.

There were all the guys from the court! Both teams!! And they had pizzas!!

"Hiii!!" I said as they filed in, some looking me over with wolfish grins. They seemed to tower over me, taller than I remembered ... And I liked it! "What are you guys doing here??"

"Now sweetheart," said Gary. "You're a short blonde girl with big tits. Remember what that means?"

I put my finger in my mouth with the effort at thought. "I'm a cocksucking fucktoy?"

"Right. And you exist ...?"

"For men's pleasure!!" I felt so dumb. How did I forget that for a minute?

It was the highlight of my week every week - we all play sportsball together, and then they all use my body for a few slutty hours of mindless fucking and sucking. I loved it!

"Exactly. Over the arm of the couch, now, slut, while we draw for who goes second. Cuz I go first, right guys?"

They all nodded and made "uh huh" noises while I eagerly bent over the arm of the couch. As Gary slid his hard cock, still wet with my saliva, into my drooling cunt from behind, Adam dropped his pants and got onto the couch in front of me, feeding me his soft willie. I sucked it hard in seconds as he massaged my tits, exclaiming about their size and weight in his hands.

"They're like big soft basketballs! That's crazy dude ..."

Stupid Adam. They were the same tits they were every time we fucked!!

But I couldn't say anything out loud because I was choking on his cock. While Gary was plowing my cunny with brutal force! And I could see, all around me, the other guys stripping naked and stroking their cocks while watching me get spit roasted, talking to each other about who was next.

They didn't need to be in a hurry! I wasn't planning on stopping until every single one of them was satisfied - multiple times! - and we could all lie around naked and eat pizza!

I mean, what was I going to do, refuse men access to my body whenever they needed it? You might as well expect me to cover up around men!! Ha!

Gary grabbed my thighs and emptied himself into my cunt, and I gave a muffled scream around the cock in my mouth as I orgasmed. My legs felt so strong and powerful, just like the rest of my made-for-fucking body. That massage did me a world of good!

And as the next guy stepped up behind me and slammed into my pussy in one thrust, pushing Adam's cock even deeper into my throat, I thought again how happy I was to be doing what I was made for - just like every week!

So happy to be a blonde!! With big tits! And to know my proper place, as a cocksucking fucktoy bimbo.

Giggle!