Practice was something like organized chaos.
Whistles screeching ... sneakers squeaking ... basketballs bouncing ... coaches screaming. It made a hell racket, but to Conner it was home.
Conner Lang had just come back from playing basketball in Europe for a couple of years. He hoped for the NBA but had to settle for Europe when that dream didn't materialize. Tired of the travel and the routine of basketball as a job, he had come back to State to work on a graduate degree in sports management and see what he thought of coaching.
First, he had to pay his dues. There were no open coaching spots on the men's team, and the only job he could get was team manager for the women's team. That was fine for the time being. It kept him around the game and the gym. His chance would come.
Conner had been second team All-American his senior year, so he still had an air of royalty about him even as manager for the women. He got to scrimmage with the guys frequently, and one of his former teammates, Jake Hadden, was an assistant coach.
"Alright, ladies, bring it in," yelled Coach Weston to signal the end of practice. "I've got some good news for you. Jenny Ming is going to be added to our coaching starting tomorrow. After her knee injury, she's not sure if she wants to push it again as a player, so she's going to try her hand at coaching. Coach Larsen and I think she'll be very good. So ... good practice today, ladies. I like your defensive intensity out there. Hit the showers. I'll see you tomorrow."
Compliments were hard to get from Coach Weston, so the players were in good moods as they headed into the locker room. Conner and his crew quickly rounded up the balls and cleaned up the practice floor. He followed the coaches into the post-practice meeting. Since Weston knew Conner's goal, he always included Conner in coaching sessions and encouraged his input.
"Listen, Conner, you may be wondering why I didn't give the assistant slot to you," Weston said, as he pulled Conner aside before entering the conference room.
"It's okay coach. Jenny's a legend here. All you have to do is look up in the rafters to see her #4 to know that."
"True, but that's not the reason I didn't give you the job. You're a big asset to this school and have a bright future in coaching. In fact, Coach Montgomery (men's head coach) let me in on a secret, and you can't share this with a soul, okay?"
"Sure coach."
"Coach Daniels will be resigning at the end of the season to take a head coaching job at Oklahoma Southern. Only a few select people know about that, and Coach wants to keep it that way. What he wants to do is move his staff up a notch and create a junior spot -- and, he wants to put you in it."
"Me? Are you serious?"
"As a heart attack. You've earned it, kid. Congratulations, but remember, no leaks."
Conner was grinning from ear to ear, "Don't worry, Coach. The only thing I'm going to have to work on is hiding this grin for the next five months."
Weston laughed. "Understand. Okay, let's break down this practice and work on a plan for next practice."
After the meeting, Conner headed for the locker room to clean up the disaster that the women had left. Hurricane Stallion was how Conner always thought of it. He was truly amazed that the men's locker room was always neater than the women's.
He started gathering up wet towels, sweaty clothes, and anything washable and throwing it into the canvas cart to take to the laundry room. As usual, cups, paper, etc. were all over the floor, and the shower was running. He never understood why they would often leave showers running unless it was a goofy way of driving him crazy.
As he rounded the corner to the shower room, he stopped dead in his tracks. The shower room wasn't empty. In the middle row of showers, stood a dark-haired woman. He was stunned, but he was also mesmerized. She wasn't on the team, but whoever she was, she was gorgeous. He couldn't take his eyes off of her.
She had jet black hair falling halfway down the olive skin of her back. He saw a small tattoo at the small of her back, but he couldn't make out the design. As she turned, he watched the water splash off her firm, grapefruit-sized breasts. Her nipples were dark and taut and jutted out of the center of her curves.
Her body was perfect. Flat, hard abs, slender hips, and slim muscular legs met his gaze. She was mostly shaved, but she had a trim black landing strip just above her pussy. As she swiveled under the steamy water, he saw the silhouette of her labia protruding between her legs. Conner had always been a sucker for full pussy lips, and when he saw hers, he almost gasped.
Just then, it dawned on him who this was. This was Jenny Ming. Now, he was really embarrassed, and he quietly stepped back out of her view before he was detected. He decided to slip out to the hallway and into the men's restroom down the hall. Once inside the stall, he dropped his pants and grabbed the granite between his legs. He closed his eyes and replayed the shower scene in his mind as he pumped his manhood as fast as his hand would go. It only took a couple of minutes before he began spattering the stall door with rope after rope of salty cum.
"Fuck," he thought to himself. "She is the hottest thing I have ever seen."
The next day, Conner and his assistants set up the gym for the practice Weston had designed. Jenny was introduced to the women, and she shook hands and greeted each of them to begin the process of remembering their names. The players were very aware of Jenny's accomplishments, both at State and in the WNBA. They were somewhat in awe of her, but she used a wide smile and friendly banter to put them at ease.
Jenny led the ball-handling drills worked with the coaches on the various 1-on-1, 2-on-2, etc. drills. She seemed like a natural, pulling players aside to teach them something she had learned and helping keep the practice lively.
At one point, she was bending over, guarding Caroline, the starting point guard, helping her with her cross-over. Conner found himself staring and picturing her tawny breasts with their dark, pointed nipples. About that time, an errant pass slammed into his chest, knocking him back.
"Conner! Heads up!" yelled the coach. The players chuckled and Conner turned 12 shades of crimson. Jenny looked over and smiled. He didn't lose track of the balls for the rest of practice.
After practice, the coaches gathered in the conference room as usual. Jenny plopped down beside Conner.
"Hey, how's your chest?"
"Huh? Oh, it's fine. I'm not sure if the red has left my face yet, but other than that, I'm okay."
"I'm Jenny Ming, by the way."
"Yeah, well, since I haven't been living in a cave for the past six years, I kinda figured that. I'm Conner."
"Lang?"
"Yeah."
"I watched you play a few times. You were deadly with your three from the corner from what I remember. I thought you were playing in Europe."
"I was. The Barcelona Centaurs."
