Subway Ballers

by Liz Ardwall

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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.

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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.

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The end.