Culture Clash

Could we succeed as a couple, if his basketball career was successful?

"Rae, do you want to meet my folks, before I leave for training camp, next week?"

"Only if you're positive they won't freak out, seeing me."

"I've told them all about you, so you won't be going in blind."

He said this with an ear to ear grin.

I also realized that while we were talking, my hand was slowly rubbing his cock back to life.

I couldn't imagine how much I missed this interaction, for the past several years.

With his cock back at full mast, I moved myself on top of him, slowly lowering myself down onto his full nine plus inches.

I whispered to let me do the work, as I started my rhythmic up and down motion.

With my boobs swaying in front of him, he gently took them, one at a time, into his mouth, literally inhaling each nipple.

We must have been fucking for ten minutes, when he rolled us over, with him on top and putting my legs onto his shoulders.

With his staff as deep inside of me as ever, he started picking up his pace and me gipping his shoulders so tight, I hoped I wouldn't draw blood.

We he finally blew his load deep inside of me, I was totally exhausted.

My God, I was bushed, in the best of ways. I hadn't been pleasured this much in decades, if ever. I literally couldn't remember fucking three times in this short of time, ever.

After a great night of sleep, and another fantastic morning of pure, raw sex, it was time for my kids to return home.

They both greated Thomas, happily, with both of them giving me sideways glances.

Erica leaned over and whispered a 'good for you, mom' in my ear.

After asking how their evening went, we were off to meet with his folks.

I knew his mother was at least my age when Thomas was born, and he had two older sisters, both close to my age, now. His step-dad was a Pastor, of some church in their area, and a few years older than his mom.

I started getting nervous walking up to their house. With Thomas holding my hand, he knocked on the door, and went in, after his step-dad opened it.

"Mom, dad, this is Rachel Blumenthal. Rachel, my parents, Ricardo and Pauline Stewart. "

To say the expression on their faces was priceless, was an understatement.

"Thomas, I must say, I'm a bit surprised. Not that this lady is white, but that she seems a bit older than you," his mother said.

"I'll be upfront with you both. I just turned thirty-nine, and my children are seventeen and sixteen. Anything else, be free to ask, please."

"I'm guessing you aren't married."

"Yes, I've been divorced for nearly two years."

"Do your children see their daddy?"

"Yes, they do, but its getting to be less and less, and it pains me, but I refuse to force them into something that is unpleasant for them. His parents still blame me for the divorce, even though he admitted to having sex with six other women."

"Simply shameful," his mother said, while the good pastor just nodded his head.

"May I ask, Pastor Stewart, where in the south you come from?"

"Macon, Georgia."

"Oh, one of my dad's favorite singers was from Macon."

"Let me guess, Little Richard?"

"Yes, I still love some of his early songs."

"He was my uncle. His momma was my great-aunt."

"Now that proves, it's a small world."

Knowing some of the family lineage, still had me on the hot seat. Sort of.

We talked for another hour, or so, and they started to accept me, if only because Thomas did ask them to try. They still had an issue with the age difference.

"Before you two leave, let me ask you, if you plan on having children?"

"Pauline, we haven't come close to discussing that issue, but I'm getting to an age where mother nature might make that decision for us," I said with a slight smile.

Walking back to my car, that question did start rattling around my brain.

"Rachel, I guess I should have asked, but is there any possibility of us having a child, some day?"

"Well, don't you want to get established in the basketball world, first?"

"Don't answer a question with another question," he grinned.

It took me a while, but I finally admitted that the idea of a child, or children did appeal to me.

Christ, I can just see myself, in my forties taking care of babies. This did bring a smile to my face.

After a very nice evening, where we made love for most of the night, I was nearly brought to tears, watching him board his plane to Las Vegas to start his basketball career.

We talked most every night, with him so excited, he could barely get the words out.

I did ask if he was steering clear of the casinos, but he reminded me he wasn't twenty-one, yet, and he didn't drink, either.

Two weeks later, I had a little surprise for him.

His first professional game, I was sitting front row, center court. I waited until just before the game started to take my seat.

Seeing his face light up made my trip worth while.

I did remember my dad telling me about one of the Seattle SuperSonic players whose wife would sit under the opposing teams backboard, wearing a very short skirt, and when the other team would shoot free throws, she would open her legs a little.

As the story goes, the other team would be too engrossed watching her legs open, and would miss their shots miserably.

After a few teams complained to the league office, the word came down that WAGs, wives and girlfriends, would sit in a designated area, not courtside.

For the basketball purists out there, the player was Jim Fox, a 6'10" center, who still holds the single game rebound record for the Sonics at 30.

I was dressed properly.

I just couldn't stop cheering for my boyfriend. Yes, I considered him my boyfriend. It didn't hurt that he scored thirty-three points in his first game. More importantly, his team won.

After the game, I was waiting far enough away that I was inconspicuous.

Seeing him leave the locker room, he looked around, seeing me, his face lit up like a kid on Christmas.

Holding his arms out, I just acted like a little kid, and ran to him, grinning almost as much as he was.

He swung me off my feet, nearly taking my breath away.

"I just can't thank you enough, Rae for being here, tonight."

"I wouldn't have missed this for the world, my love."

Oh, my, did I just call him my love?

The entire team was heading to their league supplied housing, but I asked the coach, quietly, if Thomas could come home with me. Absolutely not, was the reply.

The next day, there was a mandatory team practice, but afterwards, they had a few hours of time off, before their team dinner at a nice neighborhood restaurant.

I'll give you three guesses where we spent the two hours of free time. Those who guessed an art museum were very wrong!

We headed to my hotel, and spent every minute in bed. Well, not every minute. We did spend a few minutes in the shower, with me being fucked from behind, bent over, holding the wall. God this young man could fuck!

We actually allowed a few minutes after our shower to relax and talk about things other than our developing sex life.

I assured my new lover that I could control myself in between our visits, that I was already planning.

After getting dressed, we headed off to his team dinner. Yes, significant others were invited.

Having a nice dinner, and listening to some raucous music, some of his teammates tried their hand at Karaoke. Some were actually pretty good. Their choice of music, not what I'd call my favorite.

After some liquid encouragement, I was convinced to give this a try.

"OK, people, I'm going to go way back. All the way back to 1967. This is a retelling of Alice In Wonderland."

The haunting guitar sounds from Jorma Kaukonen, with Marty Balin and Paul Kantner joining in, I started.

"One pill makes you larger,

and one pill makes you small.

And the one that mother gives you doesn't do anything at all."

"Go ask Alice when she was just small."

Finishing in my best Grace Slick voice,

"Remember what the door mouse said,

Feed your head. Feed your head!"

The 1967 recording by Jefferson Airplane, White Rabbit.

The stunned crowd were more than appreciative.

"If you'll let me, I'd like to do one more. Written by a King. Carole King. And sung by the Queen."

"Looking out on the morning rain

I used to feel so uninspired

When I knew I had to face another day

Lord, I it made me feel so tired..."

Finishing sitting on Thomas's knee,

"You make me feel,

You make me feel,

You make me feel like a natural woman."

This 1968 smash by Aretha Franklin brought the house down. I just couldn't let go of him.

These few minutes more than endeared me to his entire team.

As I was preparing to go back to my hotel, Thomas took both my hands in his, leaned down next to one ear, gave me a peck on the cheek, and whispered, "Rachel Blumenthal, I'm falling in love with you."

I just threw both arms around his neck, and told him he had made me the happiest woman in all of Southern Nevada.

"Now, Thomas, you have to keep your mind on your game, because I'll be watching. And when our schedules mesh, we'll pick back up where we left off, this afternoon, my love."

For the next four weeks, he was the hottest thing in this G League. Hot enough to be signed to a 10 day contract with the Portland Trailblazers.

When he called me, I could barely get a word out of my mouth, I was so happy. Not only was he in the Big Show, he was only three hours south of me, when he was at home.

His first four games were on the road, but I knew when he'd make his Portland debut.

Yes, I made plans. I was going to be in attendance. So were both my kids, knowing that Thomas and I were becoming way more than just friends.

In that regard, my kids were ecstatic that I had found happiness. Unconventional, yes, but happiness, nonetheless.

Also, in that regard, who should rear their ugly head? Yep. My bitch of an ex mother-in-law.

Phone conversation three days before we were heading to Portland.

"Hello."

"Rachel, what the hell are you thinking dating that 'Schvartza?"

Schvartz, being the Yiddish word for black.

"First of all, Annette, I don't have to OK my dating life with you, or anyone in your family. Besides, my kids absolutely love him. So does my mother."

Click.

I also knew that if my dad were still alive, he'd approve, too. What a fucking bitch.

I was like a teenager, waiting for a first date with the class jock. OK, the class jock was half my age, black, and a pro basketball player. None of that mattered to me.

We were watching his last game on the road, before our trip to see him, at home.

My son was watching more closely, than Erica and me, when I thought my world was coming to an end.

Driving to the basket, with a slam dunk in mind, two opponents sandwiched him between them slamming him to the hardwood, head first.

The entire crowd, all 22,000 in the stands were standing in a stunned silence.

Doctors and trainers from both teams sprinted onto the court, as well as EMTs who are at every game.

My heart sank! The camera looked down at his prone, lifeless looking body, and he just wasn't moving. There was a trickle of blood coming out of one ear.

Doctors placed a neck brace on him, as a stretcher was brought onto the court.

They were showing him, close-up, when his eyes opened. There seemed to be no awareness of his surroundings, as the medical people were talking to him.

There was a tear leaking out of one eye, and he just nodded, slightly.

After what seemed like hours, he nodded again in response to something said to him.

Finally, as the stretcher started heading for an exit, he gave a weak 'thumbs-up' sign, that just made my heart break.

I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep, until I heard from someone on his team, but I didn't know who to call.

About two hours after his accident, Pastor Ricardo called, and gave me an update.

"He has a concussion, plus a sprained neck. He is going to be kept overnight in a Chicago area hospital, which is part of the University of Chicago medical center."

He then put Pauline on the line, and she told me she wouldn't let the team doctor off the phone until she could hear her boy at least say hello. She also told me that if at all possible, he would call me, tonight.

I was just starting to nod off when my phone rang. Seeing the callet ID, I nearly yelled into my phone.

"Oh Thomas, how are you doing?" I sobbed.

"I've had better days, my love, but these doctors tell me I'll make a full recovery, in a few weeks."

"I love you, Thomas, I want you to know that."

"I know, believe me, I know."

With a kissing sound he told me good night, and hung up.

The next day, after a horrible night sleep, I got another call from Chicago.

This one, not so good.

It seems the specialist who came this morning, looked at his X-rays, a second time and found a chipped vertebrae in his neck.

Now, this doctor told me, with Thomas right next to him, that this chip should heal on its own. That was the good news.

Then he told me that if he were to take another hit in the same area, he might be permanently paralyzed.

This hit me like a ton of bricks.

Yes, his parents had been given the same news.

Thomas got on the phone, and told me they were keeping him one or two more days, and had been in touch with a sports and spine doctor at the U of W, who specialized in this sort of injury.

"Please know, Rae, I'm OK with this diagnosis, and plan to go back to Seattle U, as soon as I can."

"OK. Thomas, I agree with anything you decide."

Three very long days later, I was at King County Harborview Medical Center, finally able to visit with my young lover.

He still had some residual effects from his concussion, but seemed fairly alert.

The neck brace he was wearing was a bit ominous, and looked very uncomfortable.

"Hey there, Mr. Sanders, how are you doing?"

"Way better, now that you're here, Dr. Blumenthal."

"Oh, Thomas, can I give you a hug, or a kiss, or a smoking hot blow job?"

This caused us to laugh, just as his folks came into his room.

They both saw how red my face was, but ignored my discomfort. for the moment.

After some more talk about his treatment, they were ready to leave, when Pauline leaned over to me and said, "you leave my boy be, and no hanky panky, while he's laid up, you hear?"

As they were leaving, they both gave me a very nice hug and a kiss on my forehead.

Even with this small show of acceptance, I knew I had work to do to win them over.

My main concern, now, was helping my boyfriend regain his health. Boyfriend my ass, he's my lover. End of story.

I had already checked with Seattle U, to make sure his scholarship was still there, if he did want to continue.

It took another ten days of examinations and tests before he was to be discharged.

As my kids and I neared his room, we saw a whole group of kids, with a fairly large black woman keeping this brood in order.

"Dr. Blumenthal, my name is Vanessa Dunlap, and my husband, Ethan, is in talking with Thomas."

"Please, its Rachel, and how do you guys know Thomas?"

"Mom, Ethan is Easy-E the Trailblazers guard who was almost killed in a car crash a few years back, correct, Mrs. Dunlap?"

"Its Vanessa, and yes, thats him. Rachel, my husband successfully transitioned from pro athlete to high school coach and teacher, and that's what he's telling Thomas."

Pulling me aside, as my kids started talking with her four kids, she gave me this wicked grin and asked, "are you and Thomas more than just friends, Rachel?"

"Uh, yes, and I'm hoping we can work whatever we have into something more permanent." I do admit that I was blushing like a school girl.

When this Ethan Dunlap came out of the room, he calmly told me that he and Thomas talked for a while, and he convinced my man to return to school and consider helping coach Ethan's high school team.

Going in to see Thomas, he finally had his mile wide grin back.

Yes, he still had a neck brace on, and would for another week, or two.

I got him out of bed, since he needed to walk, and we went outside and I watched as his eyes lit up, seeing six kids just waiting to see him.

My two, he knew, and gave them each a hug. He started talking with the other four, as I could see in his eyes that children were very much on his mind.

While I was watching this interaction, I started thinking.

Did I want to start over, with a baby at my age? I guess if we had something this special, we needed some serious discussion. And soon.

As the Dunlap family were getting ready to depart, Vanessa moved next to me, and whispered, "Don't let age or race decide for you what to do. If I can be successful with a southern white man, you can make a great family with this fine, young man."

Getting him settled back in his bed, with my kids in the room, too, he told me his folks and his two sisters were on their way.

About twenty minutes later, the Stewarts came in, with two women, who I assumed were his older sisters.

"Rachel, these are my daughters, Angela and Caroline, girls, this is Rachel Blumenthal."

Giving each other a light hand shake, I could tell it was going to take some effort on my part to become friends.

My kids left to find a snack, or just to give us some privacy.

I quickly learned that his sisters were forty-two and forty years old.

Shit! They were both older than me.

They both knew just the basics about me. Age, profession, and the fact that I had two teenagers.

They both seemed to be a bit overprotective of their little brother. They were concerned about the age difference way more than the color of my skin.

Interrupting his sisters, Thomas told them that none of their concerns bothered him, and he had never felt this way with any other female. Ever.

Sitting and talking some more, I just couldn't believe I was thinking more and more about making this relationship permanent.

The following week, when Thomas was discharged, we made the decision for him to move in with me. This didn't sit well with his family, but I made the point of telling them he'd be much closer to his school and his physical therapy appointments, that I'd make sure he would attend.

I did have to restrain myself from too much sexual activity, until we both thought he'd recovered enough.

Just having him next to me in bed gave me all the comfort I needed.

His class schedule coincided with mine, making our days nearly identical. He did start off with taking just a partial schedule, and was doing very well, with each class.

I did have to check myself and not interfere with his claswork. I did help him, only answering general questions, and pointing him in the right direction.

As the term was winding down and getting his classes for the next quarter, we started having more serious discussions about our future.

"I hope you know, Rachel, having children is far more your decision, than mine. I want you to know I'd love being a dad, but not without getting married, first."

Wow, there it was. He did not want children without marriage.

"I want you to know. I've seen too many kids being born out of wedlock to add to those numbers, so, Rachel Blumenthal, would you marry me?"

Holy shit! Did I want to marry this fine young man?

Damn right I did.

"Yes, Thomas, I will!"

"Rachel would you help me pick out a ring, as I've never bought a piece of jewelry in my life. And just so you know, the Trailblazers are going to pay me the entire season's pay, even though I'm not playing, maybe ever again."

"Does this mean even if you might never play, you're OK with that decision?"

"OK, yes, happy with this outcome, no, but my health is far more important to me. Besides, I'm giving some serious thought to what Easy-E told me about coaching."