Everyone kept telling me my sister Tamara was a dime. That is slang for ‘perfect 10’. Funnily, I didn’t see her that way at all. All my boys would tell me. If she weren’t your sister, I would kick it to her. That is slang for ‘try and talk to her’. Although no one dared. I was starting quarterback for the varsity football team and the starting shooting guard for the basketball team. I stood only 6’3” and weighed a buck ninety. That is slang for 190 pounds but every inch of me was sculpted muscle. Trust me the guys new better than to mess with my sister or me. The girls on the other hand loved me. It was my senior year and I had gone through half the girls in my high school. Not to mention all the girls on the cheerleading squad except one. But she didn’t count because I didn’t like her anyway, plus she was my sister. During some games I would catch the guys staring at her in her short skirt and sweater top. I imagined some of them would even go home and jerk their dicks thinking about her. One, I didn’t really care and two I was a guy too. So I could relate.
The night of the championship I left early to get to the gym. I liked to drive alone and think about what I was going to do during the game and about the player who would be guarding me. My sister had to be there early also, for some cheerleader stuff and my dad insisted that I take her.
“Are you nervous?” My sister asked as we drove to the high school.
“Nah, you know I don’t get nervous.”
“Tonight you look nervous.” She insisted.
“Well, I’m not. So quit bugging me.”
My sister turned towards her window away from me. Making her cheerleading skirt slide up to around her thighs. I stared at her smooth almond brown skin and wondered what guy had been lucky enough one to slide between her thighs. My eyes went further up her body. They stopped first at her stomach. It was flat and tight. Then I continued on up to her breasts. They were 34 C’s. She had made it a point at one time or another to let me know. They sat up high and proud on her chest. I looked away but it was too late. My dick had started to swell in my sweatpants. I thought nothing of it, a natural reaction to a female form. But it was your sister my mind shouted. So what, I said to myself. It happens.
During the game at every time out I found myself looking over at the cheerleading section so much that my coached even yelled at me to get my head in the game. We were down by 3 and he called timeout. Everyone ran over to the huddle and the cheerleaders took the floor. They went into the crowd’s favorite cheer. The cheer called for the girls to do a lot of leg lifts and splits, even some gyrating of body parts. Once they were done. Everyone jumped up in the stands and started chanting, “Let’s go Bears.”
The coached called my number on the inbounds play. I was to come off a double screen from the base line and catch the ball on the wing. If I had a shot I were to take it or look for the guy in bounding the ball to cut to the basket. I set up on the left side of the court. The ref blew the whistle and handed the ball to the player. He smacked the ball signaling the start of the play. I faked left then broke hard to the right. Running off the two screens that were set up for me. I caught the ball on the wing. My man was still trying to come off the screen. I stepped back behind the 3-point line and lined up the shot. I cocked back with the guy bearing down hard on me and released it just as he got there. The ball left my hands with 2 seconds showing on the clock. The next sequence of events seemed to happen in slow motion. I was watching the ball when I felt my defenders hand slap mine. I heard the whistle blow, while the ball was still in the air. The clocked ticked down to 1, then 0 as the ball fell through the net. Everyone went wild. People in the stands were jumping up and down. My teammates mobbed me. The ref came and told me I had a foul shot to take. The crowd fell deathly silent as I stepped to the line. The score was tied with no time on the clock. I calmly went to the line and sank the free throw. Fans from the stands ran onto the court in celebration. My sister ran over to me and jumped on me. Wrapping her legs around me. I held her up by her ass and found myself softly squeezing it.
“You’re the fucking man.” She said while planting kisses all over my face.
Then she jumped down and my parents were there to congratulate me. Followed by my coach, then just about everyone else. As were my ritual after every game. I stayed behind in the gym. Going over everything, that I did that night. What I did right. What I did wrong. There was a big party that was going to be held later on for us. But I had about two hours to kill. I sat on the bench as Mike the janitor swept the floor.
“Great game kid.” He told me.
“Thanks Mike.” I answered him. Tonight was different because it was my last game as a high school student. A few of my teammates came out the locker room freshly showered.
“We’ll see you at the party later ok superstar.”
I nodded in response. I got up and went to the locker room to take a shower. As I walking in I heard my sister call me.
“What are you still doing here?” I asked.
“I need a ride home, duh.”
“I thought you went home with mom and dad.”
“No the girls were planning something for the guys later on. I think you will like it.”
“Really, like what?”
“You’ll see?” my sister answered with a mischievous smile.
“Ok wait right here. I’ll be out in like ten minutes.”
