THE TOOTHBRUSH

I watched her waddle to the bathroom with creamy globs of sperm streaming down the insides of her thick thighs. It was apparent I had swished a three-pointer. I wondered about the number of men who had scrutinized the same scene. She had a big, flabby ass, but I had succumb to worse when I had drunk into the wee hours. 

I hardly knew her. We had been seeing each other for a few weeks and she was already calling me "mi amor" among other sweet nothings. She also had a commanding personality. For a free spirit like myself, I knew this relationship wasn't going to last the season.

Much older than my fuck-em-and-forget-em days, I do my best to maintain a corral. I am presently fielding a starting-five basketball team with a motley collection of subs on the bench who have outside chances of replacing any one of the fading stars who from one day to the next can become has-beens. 

The women come and go talking of Michelangelo as T.S. Eliot might observe as he prepared a face to meet the faces he might meet. 

The turnover is constant. The malcontents depart grumbling and mumbling that they aren't getting enough playing time. I explain in the gentlest of terms that if they aren't content with their roles as part of my team-first strategy, they can try their luck elsewhere. 

Men are always looking for utility players whom they inevitably need in tight situations when one of the regulars is unavailable because her husband is suspicious or she's just too tired and not up to the task. 

You never know their exact motives, but even the crones are invariably negotiating for a better deal. And to their credit, some achieve their ends, but at best they can only finagle a one-year contract that can solely be renewed if they have met the requirements clearly elucidated in the small print.

I have experienced a number of rebuilding years and little compares to accessing new talent. It's best to measure their abilities in the dark. Light can cause you to take your eye off the ball. 

After several failed marriages and relationships, I'm not looking for championship squads. I just want to put a decent team on the court. Their skills may have diminished, but they can catch my attention if they still have game. 

When one loses his or her competitive edge, then it's time to turn in your uniform. Or more accurately, to put on your uniform. Sagging tits that hang to their belly buttons when the thrill is gone have lost all their allure and are best hidden from the public eye. Nobody will be cheering for them unless it's the 2 a.m. scavengers.

"Do you have an extra toothbrush?" she shouted from the bathroom.

"What?"

"Do you have an extra toothbrush?"

"No. Use mine."

"You must be crazy. I'm not going to use somebody else's toothbrush. I don't want to catch your germs."

"What are you talking about, cabrona? We drenched each other's mouths in salivating kisses that streamed down our chests. We rimmed each others' asses. I ate your pussy until you came. You swallowed my cum after a decent blowjob and you're complaining about my toothbrush! Get real, vieja!"

I heard a strident sound that could be best described as a "harrumph" between the opening and closing of drawers and cupboards. I thought about telling her that her quest would be quixotic, but she had one of those stubborn personalities that would only subside out of exhaustion.

Needless to say, our friends-with-benefits relationship came to an abrupt end a week later when she texted me that I had been lying to her. There were others she whimpered. She must have been under the impression that she was in the gym shooting free throws all by herself.

She has been quickly replaced by one of the benchwarmers and I must admit that I'm pleasantly surprised by the sub's performances. She keeps her head down and doesn't complain. She's content with the opportunity. 

I don't think there will be a toothbrush incident with her. As long as she has plenty of hot water, shampoo, a bar of soap and a clean towel, she seems content with her spot on the roster.

And when I say, "Jump ball!" she just purrs, "How high?"