Basketball Drip Novels & Stories

The only movement was the water still dripping from his hair, falling to the floor in steady, merciless beats. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Day 13 "Hey! Pass the ball to me!" Dylan yelled as he raised his hands above, trying to get the ball from MJ. They all finished riding the bike 30 minutes ago and now MJ and Dylan decided to join a group of people playing basketball. MJ raises his hands and passes Dylan the ball, to which the older guy responds with a run to their hoop. He jumps and dunks the ball, which his team celebrates with a cheer as they approach Dylan and lift him.

"Okay, where should I look, huh?" I moved to find lodging first. Seen a simple inn on the edge of the town called the Two Moon Inn. A three-story inn on the riverside of Daffodil town. "Excuse me..." I said as I entered the inn. Seen a man with a burly body standing in front of the inn's reception desk. The man walked toward me with a slightly grim look. I feel a little weird. I started to have bad thoughts as I looked back at him. "Welcome to the Two Moon Inn," said the man with a very friendly face.

Balancing it as Jessie's eyes go wide. He drops it again, dribbling it off his knees, under his legs, and over his back as he turns. Evidence of the ball's used state. — Jessie finds a certain gentleness in Halo then, but also a little adventure. Taking in his smile as the man goes through each of his many tricks. A never-ending barrage of skills that keep on giving. Jessie soon joins in on the fun, trying and failing to dribble like Halo, but is encouraged nonetheless. It brings them closer and drowns out the world.

"As I said, we've been looking for you for months, it started when the intoxicating fragrance of Moon Drip once reached Alpha Baristo. He immediately ordered his wolves to find where it came from but we were disappointed because the smell suddenly disappeared. But Alpha Baristo was so persistent, so he mobilized even us witches to help in the search. And we were not mistaken that we could find you here. The Cohen who possesses the Moon Drip— the sacred power of the blue moon." My eyebrows met at her words. I couldn't understand what she was saying as the scent of my power that Mama Amelia sealed leaked. I don't remember what she said happened. For the past few months, nothing has been strang

I muttered under my breath. Camille hit me softly in the head and gestured for me to watch the game. I was about to scold her for hitting me, but I saw that Clyden now had the ball, and he was dribbling skillfully toward the net. We all watched in anticipation as he passed by every opponent and dunked the basketball into the net.

I brace myself for what’s to come. The door opens, and a man of similar build walks in holding something that looks like a toolbox, and my jaw drops. The walking Thirst Trap is shirtless, and my eyes are glued to his toned upper body, focusing on how his muscles ripple as he closes the door. My gaze drops to his lower body. He’s in thin grey sweatpants with nothing underneath, and I can see the outline of his cock resting on the side of his upper thigh. It bobs a little from side to side as he walks forward and sets his box on the table. I graze my tongue on my lower lip, imagining how that cock would feel on my tongue.

Today was the day for some basketball practice. Slipping on his sneakers, Whizz headed outside to the basketball court. The sound of the basketball hitting the pavement was music to his ears as he dribbled it with enthusiasm. With each bounce, his excitement grew, and he couldn't wait to start training. He began to practice his shots, his focus unwavering. The sound of the ball hitting the backboard and swishing through the net filled the air. Whizz's confidence was evident in every movement, his eyes locked onto the hoop as he honed his skills.

The air felt thick, charged with the scent of my arousal still lingering from the dildo and my fingers. He was breathing heavier now, that massive bulge in his joggers straining visibly, the outline thick and long enough to make my pussy clench involuntarily. “Matilda... you’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said, voice low and rough, but he didn’t back away. His gaze dropped to my heaving tits, barely contained by the pulled-up gown, nipples hard and begging.

My pupils widened when it moved on its own. The thick black shaft gave one slow, heavy twitch right in front of my face. It was so close I could feel the heat coming off it, like a living thing breathing against my skin. The skin looked impossibly smooth, stretched tight over all that hardness, deep dark brown, almost black, shining a little under the light. Right at the fat, swollen tip there was that small slit, pale inside like a secret mouth, already leaking one clear drop that hung there, trembling, ready to fall. I wanted to catch it with my tongue before it dropped.