Subway Ballers

by Liz Ardwall

O================O

WARNING: This story contains scenes of explicit sexual activity
between high school age teens. The author does not encourage nor
condone the reading of this story by anyone forbidden by law to
do so. By continuing to read, you accept sole responsibility for
your action.

If you consider an interracial story to be offensive, please
leave now. The author doesn't want to hear about it.

Please note the following story content codes:

hetero, stroke, interracial, reluc, m+f teen mast oral

SUMMARY: A high school blonde meets a pair of black ballplayers
on the A-Train.

DISCLAIMER: This story is entirely a work of fiction. No
resemblance to actual persons or places is intended. Descriptions
of unprotected sexual acts are not intended to encourage the
reader to engage in unsafe behavior.

O================O

At the West 4th Street Station, I squeezed through the Friday
rush hour mob into the last car of the A-train. I shouldered my
way around flabby bodies and ducked my five-nine frame under
smelly armpits holding straps until I could grab onto a pole in
the middle of the aisle. The crowded train pressed people around
me, and I found myself sandwiched between a pair of black boys a
couple of inches taller - uptown types, I guessed, going home to
Harlem.

This was New York. I was used to black guys; some were more
aggressive than I preferred. I hoped these two were just going to
talk about basketball or something. They didn't look too
thuggish; they were dressed in basketball suits - Knicks, of
course - and high topped sneakers. They exuded a kind of athletic
scent - sweaty, but not sour.

"Yo, Bone, ain't this a fine white chick?" said the one on my
left. I saw what appeared to be an appreciative smile on his
chocolate brown face, beneath neatly corn-rowed hair.

"Word, Slade," I heard from my right. "She looks like that little
Coppertone girl, all growed up."

My head jerked involuntarily toward his voice, switching my blond
pony tail. His face was more square, crowned by tight, black
curls; his skin was ebony black, and his brown eyes seemed warm
and friendly.

"What's your name, pretty girl?" asked the one called Slade.

I made up a name, but I wasn't a quick thinker. "Mary," I said.

"Yeah, right," sneered the one called Bone. "You don't look like
no Mary. I think we'll call you Star. Right, Slade?"

"Yeah, Bone. She's a real Star. Pretty blue eyes, and she's got a
real nice shape. Look at how curvy her hips are." I felt his hand
rub my jeans.

The train was jostling us around. I pulled myself close against
the pole, and the boys pushed tight against me. My breast pressed
into Slade's bare arm; Bone was leaning into my back, and I
couldn't move away.

"Oh, man," said Slade, "she's got nice, firm tits. She ain't
wearing no bra."

I felt Bone's hand find my right breast and cup it possessively.
"Oh, yeah, girl," he said, breathing into my ear. "That's a fine
piece of titty."

This was New York. If I screamed, all I'd get from my fellow
passengers would be annoyed glares.

"Stop that, boys," I said. "That's not nice."

"It's cool, girl," said Slade. "We're not nice boys."

"Don't listen to him," countered Bone. "We could be real nice to
you, pretty Star." He rubbed my tit; I could feel my nipple
erecting.

Slade got jerked away for a moment and Bone crushed into my back
as the train slowed for 34th Street. More riders crowded into the
car, and Slade was right in my face. His breath smelled sweet,
like he'd been chewing gum or something.

When the train started moving, Bone kept his grip on my right
breast and moved his left hand to hold my hip. Slade slid his
right hand up under the back of my fuzzy pink sweater.

"You got real soft skin, Star," he breathed in my face. I hoped
Bone didn't hear him; I didn't want another hand sneaking up
inside the front of my sweater.

"You a high school girl, Star?" Bone asked.

"Yes," I said. "I'm a senior."

"We finished school early," said Slade. Bone snickered.

"What do you do, then?" I asked.

"We're professional basketball players," said Bone. "We hustle
white boys down in the village who think they can play."

"Scored thirty in two games today," said Slade. "Didn't have no
seed money, so we could only put up five apiece in the first
one."

"Got enough to take you out and show you a good time tonight,
Star," said Bone.

That'll be the day, I thought. I wasn't letting go of the pole
until the train reached my grandma's stop in Washington Heights.

When we stopped at 42nd, the boys protected me from the jostling
commuters getting off and on. I was kind of getting used to them,
as long as they didn't get too rough.

When we moved off again, it seemed the car was more jam packed
than ever. Both boys were pressed tight against me. Bone was
still rubbing my nipple through my sweater.

"Why do they call you Bone?" I asked.

He let go of my breast and pulled my right hand from the pole and
moved it to the front of his silky basketball shorts. My palm
rested on a hard stick that stretched toward his hip.

"Because I most always have a bone on, girl," he said.
"Especially when I'm with a fine babe like you."

Slade moved to press his groin against my hip. I could feel a
hard bulge in his pants. "I got a bone for you too, pretty Star."

"Get off with us at 125th, and we'll show you a real good time,
girl," Bone breathed into my ear.

"Yeah, Baby," said Slade. "You need to check us out. Once you try
black, you won't go back."

I hadn't moved my hand away from Bone's shorts; my fingers
tightened on his hard shaft. A tingle was stirring in my pussy.
It was turning me on that I'd made these two black boys hot for
me.

Still, I said, "I'm going straight to grandma's house, and I'm
not stopping to play with any wolves."

The train slowed into Columbus Circle, and the crowd pushed out
and in, leaving us crushed together. When it pulled away, I
realized the boys would get off after the long ride to the next
stop at 125th. It seemed safe to play a little. I ran my fingers
along the thin material over Bone's hard shaft.

"Ooooh, yeah, Baby," he crooned. "Stroke it for me."

"Is she rubbing your dick, man?" Slade asked with a tone of
wonder.

"Yeah, man," said Bone. "She's hot for my meat."

"Oh, girl," said Slade. "You're a pistol."

He humped his own bulge against my hip. His right hand rubbed the
bare skin of my back under my sweater, and his left found the
crotch of my jeans. His finger rubbed up along my cunt, and I
moaned.

The train was speeding along toward the end of my fantasy, when
it suddenly slowed. Slade clutched me tight, and Bone crushed
against my back. We had stopped between stations. Then the lights
went out; only dim emergency lamps provided a pale glow.

Bone moved my hand from his shorts and placed it flat against his
belly; it was warm and damp with sweat. I could feel the ripples
of his abdominal muscles; my little finger touched a trail of
wiry hair that led downward into his pants. He pressed my wrist
down that trail, under the elastic waistband of his shorts. I
felt rough, ribbed material: a jock strap.

"Pull it down and hook it under my balls, girl," said Bone.
"Please."

Slade was still humping against my hip and rubbing my pussy
through my jeans. I did what Bone suggested. Then I wrapped my
fist around the silky skin of his hard rod.

"Oh, Baby," he sighed. "Yeah, girl. Rub it now."

Slade's hands moved from my back and my crotch to my belt and
pulled at it. I slapped his arm with my left hand.

"Stop that!" I cried. "I'm not getting undressed on this train."

"OK," said Slade. "That's cool. How about you give me your hand
and I'll show you where to find some more of what you're holding
on Bone?"

I let him lead the back of my left hand to his waistband. When my
wriggling fingers made their way inside his shorts, I found his
hard cock was bare; I felt down below and discovered he'd stuffed
his own jock under his balls already. I grasped his shaft and
started pumping. What would Mom say if she knew I was jacking off
two black boys on a crowded train?

Bone finally got both of his hands under the front of my sweater
and found my bare breasts. He rubbed them gently, stopping now
and then to tweak my nipples with his fingers, making me moan and
pant.

Slade's fingers pulled down the zipper fly of my jeans. He poked
inside and rubbed my wet panties. Then he probed under the leg
hole and worked a finger right into my slippery cunt hole.

"Ooooh," I crooned. "Yes, Slade. Bring me off before the train
starts."

"Yeah, Baby, jerk me," he said. "I want to fill your hand with my
cream."

Bone was rubbing my tits faster; his breathing was irregular. My
fingers stroked his rigid cock; it felt like it was getting
harder. "Oh, girl, that's good," he sighed.

Slade's finger slid along my slit and rubbed my clit; I groaned
with pleasure.

"Oh, Baby," he said. "You're so hot. I want to get naked with
you. I need to feel all of your skin. I want to slide my hot meat
into your pussy."

I was getting so turned on I was almost ready to do what he said.
If there'd been a door in the side of the train that led to a
bedroom, I might have dragged him in there. But that was never
going to happen for real. I went on stroking their hard cocks,
and Slade never stopped rubbing my cunt.

I couldn't believe the three of us were having sex, surrounded by
a mass of oblivious New Yorkers. Nobody was paying any attention
to our moans and sighs.

Bone clutched my breasts and pulled himself tight against me.
"I'm gonna shoot, Baby. You're bringing me off, you sweet thing.
You're gonna make me cream."

"Yes, Bone," I said. "Shoot it, Bone. Let me feel it."

"Catch it in your hand, please," he begged. "I don't want my jizz
running down my leg."

I wasn't sure I wanted a handful of sperms, but I could see his
point. His cock was throbbing and jerking; I moved my palm to the
head and covered it just as the first spurt of spunk shot out of
his dick. Bone grunted and groaned and squeezed my tits.

"Are you nutting, man?" said Slade.

"Ummmf! Yeah, man," Bone panted. "Ohhhh, she's good."

I caught as much as I could, but more splashes of cream ran off
the side of my hand and through my fingers. He was going to have
wet shorts at the least.

Bone was breathing hard; I could feel his belly moving against my
back. He pulled on my sticky hand by the wrist, up and out of his
shorts, up in front of me toward my face.

"Clean off your fingers, Baby," he said. "Eat my cream."

"Oh, yeah, Star," said Slade. "That's so hot. Eat his spooge. And
then you can eat mine."

My spunk-covered hand was right in front of my mouth. I
hesitated. I'd tasted my own pussy juice, of course, and that
wasn't bad. I stuck out my tongue and licked along one of my
fingers. Bone's cream was thick and viscous; the flavor wasn't
bitter. I could get used to it. I licked some more of Bone's jism
off my hand.

"Oh, Baby," cried Spade. "You're really eating his spunk."

He dug his finger into my pussy hole and I humped against it.
Somehow he got his thumb inside my zipper and rubbed my clit. The
taste of Bone's spermy juice drove me over the edge.

"Oh, Bone," I cried. "Hold me tight. I'm cumming."

Bone supported me while I shuddered and bucked my hips. "Oh, man,
Slade. You made her nut. Shove your dick in her now. Do it while
she's nutting."

He was right - I couldn't have resisted. Evidently Slade thought
better of sliding his tender organ between the sharp teeth of my
zipper. I kept pumping his cock, and he started moaning.

"Oh, Baby," Slade said. "I'm gonna shoot. Catch my spunk, Star.
Catch my spooge and eat it."

"Drop down, Baby," Bone said in my ear. "Catch his jizz in your
mouth."

"Oh, yeah, Baby," said Spade. "Suck me quick, before I shoot."

I saw Slade pull down the front of his shorts; his hard black
cock sprang free in my hand. I kept pumping it; in the fog of my
orgasm, I felt my knees giving way. Slade's dick was getting
closer to my face. One of my knees touched his basketball shoe,
and I put my lips over the head of his throbbing cock just as it
erupted with a blast of hot cream.

I gulped down his juice and gobbled a little more of his dick
before the next spurt of spunk filled my mouth. I tried to
swallow it all, but he was pumping it out too fast, and some ran
down my chin. I could feel it dribbling down my neck as his cock
finally stopped pumping.

Slade's legs were trembling; my whole body was shaking from the
awkward position and the adrenalin rush of the excitement.

"Pull me up, Bone," I gasped.

He held me under my arms and lifted me to my feet. Slade grabbed
me and smeared his lips against mine; his tongue probed into my
mouth, tasting his own spunk. I kissed him back, hard, trying to
catch my breath through my nose. I felt Bone's hand reach between
us into his shorts; then his sticky palm found its way back
inside my sweater and smeared his cream over my breast. I hoped
grandma wouldn't smell my new perfume.

Slade and I released each other; he adjusted his jock and shorts
while I closed my zipper. Just in time, before the lights came
on. The train lurched and started to move. I held the pole, and
the boys held me.

"Oh, Baby," said Slade. "That was so good."

"Yeah, girl," echoed Bone. "We gotta do more of this."

"I can't do more," I said. "I'm not getting off this train with
you. I'm sorry. It was great, but I can't."

The train was hurtling toward the next stop, where the boys would
leave me. We'd done something special - weird, maybe, but
special. I wished I wasn't afraid to go with them.

"Can you meet us in the village?" asked Slade. "Do you know the
ball courts on 6th Avenue?  That's where we hang."

"Yeah, Baby," said Bone. "Come and see us. At least, we can ride
the subway again."

The train swayed and jerked as it ground to a halt at the 125th
Street Station. Bone squeezed me tight. Slade smashed his lips
against mine, then let me go for a hard kiss from Bone.

Bone's eyes were pleading. "Please," he said.

They released me and shouldered their way through the crowd to
the door. They were gone, and I was still breathing hard. New
York. I'd just had the hottest sex I might ever have, and none of
us knew the other's name.

The train started off, on the way to my grandmother's house. I'd
escaped the wolves, for now. Would I ever go to the ball courts
in the village? Maybe. I'd think about it. No. I knew I'd dream
about it, with my fingers in my pussy.

O================O

The end.