So its my second day tryouts and tommorro is cut but im scared of..?

Today is my second day tryouts and tommorro is when the cuts happen but im scared that i wont make it to the team. I trained myself so hard and go to every single gym and the Varsity coaches know that but i dont kno about the JV coach. Last year i tryout for freshman and my coach for freshman was my math teacher and he cut me. Now he moved up to teach JV and im trying out for JV and that can make me look bad again. Plus the football players can have a late acception for basketball tryouts and couple of them are good. Now ive been working out but im just sucking in tryouts and i think the coaches want skill more than heart. But really this is my dream to become a better basketball player and making the team.

Dude just relax...It's very common what you're going through. Personally, I believe in destiny and if it was your destiny to make this team u will. If not, work even harder and push yourself. Possibly(not definitely) think of more attainable goals if all fails. GOOD LUCK!!!

Letter To Hillary Clinton

 

Dear, Hilary

 

The other day something happened that I simply have to tell you about and if there is one person I know who can keep a secret I know it is you. As you know I love doing charity work in other countries not that I could not be doing it in my own country but I get so much more world press and inter-national prestige when I do it in other countries, specially in what they call the dark continent.

 

It all started one day in late April when my husband and I decided to invite a group of starving teenage boys from Africa. I love to feed hungry African children, of course there are hungry children in Poland but the truth is I just couldn't care less about them for many reasons first of all if I did take care of them then everybody in my country would know how many hungry children there really are in my country and then they would start asking all those silly questions tax payers ask like where is my tax money going and why are you spending it on other countries when we have poverty right here at home. My husband and I don't think that telling them I want to use your tax money to improve my status in the world rather then help the poor in our own country would sit to well with the voters.

 

We had many countries in mind but eventually we settled on Nigeria, reason being that the black boys in those photos were simply what I would call angels so when we finally decided on which boys would be invited, after all we want nice good looking starving kids, I immediately rang up the Nigerian ambassador and told him what we intended to do. He not only agreed to our plans but he also agreed to arrange them for us at our own cost. My husband and accepted the high cost of doing such a good deed because at the end of the day what do we care, it is not our money. Everything had been taken care of, now all we had to do is sit back and wait.

 

Well needles to say, the day finally arrived (June 21) and we went to greet these little black angels at Warsaw International Airport. They arrived at noon on a Friday and of course there where the usual members of the press, taking photos, making videos and asking the same annoying question. There was this one boy in particular whom I was waiting for who's photograph had caught my eye. I even managed to get his case history which included the usual detail you know how tall he was and how old he was and certain other details which I did not really care all that much about.

 

The plane finally touched down and the boys started getting of the plane one by one all dressed in nice grey suits which my government had so generously bought for them. They got off the plane single file. I could tell from the look in their eyes that they were both amazed and frightened about being here, I can guess that this must have been fairly new to them. I was waiting for my darling black angel whose name was Robert Johnson. My angel finally got of the plane and as he did my heart started racing as his warm eyes captivated me. I was waiting for them as they got of the plane and I received each and everyone of them with a kiss on the forehead and a word or 2 of welcome.

 

After having finished with the formalities, we pilled in to a long limo that was big enough to sit all 18 of us. I sat down my little black angel and put my arm around him as I did this I noticed a certain affection in his eyes as I saw him peer in to my smile. I don't remember exactly what it was that I said but I told him to just relax and to think of me as a friend and that I would take care of him. "Thank you, madam" he said in a very shy tone of voice. I then took his thin long black hand in to my own two hands and thought to myself I hope you know that theory about the length of hands and feet being the indicator of the length of another organ in the body and I looked in to his now smiling eyes and said "don't call me madam, call me Jola, all my friends do, now tell me what do your friends call you?". "My friends call me "Magic Johnson" was the answer he gave me with some sort of hesitation almost as if he were afraid to tell me. I wanted to ask him, if the reason his friends called him magic Johnson was because of his basketball ability but l figured why ask what was clear, so the first thing I gave him was a sympathetic smile the kind my adoring public has come to love.

 

The rest of the day went by without anything to report. We took them to see all the sights that Warsaw has to Offer as well as to some of the shopping malls. After all this running around we finally took them back to the Presidential residence to get them ready to go to the opera. As soon as we got back I instructed my household staff to help get the boys ready to go to the opera, to show them where the showers were and to help them get dressed and to make sure they put on the clothes which I had chosen for them.

 

For my part I took this as an opportunity to get ready myself, this of course meant a shower and then the arduous task of having to decide what to wear ,as you now my dear Hilary I like you I also don't trust my own taste and allow my fashion consultant to choose for me. He told me that given the occasion and the company I was going to be in I should wear something conservative, so what we did was we went over to my wardrobe and chose a blue knee length dress with shoes and pocketbook to match.

 

I as any woman reserve the right to choose what I am going to wear underneath, I opted for white stockings with no panties and no Brassier to slow down the events of the evening, if you know what I mean.

 

On that particular occasion we were going to see the opera "Aida" which my secretary told me is a story about a black woman from Ethiopia whose name is Aida, who happens to be a slave in Egypt in love with Ramades an Egyptian General who is also in love with Aida. I as anybody who knows me well find this sort outings to be such a bore that sometimes I think I could scream but what the hell it is good for my husbands public image and mine as well. We all gathered in front of the Presidential Palace and again got in to the limo, this time in order to go to the National Theatr, being that this was going to be a short ride I did not bother to get a seat next to George and I just sat in the first seat as I wanted to be the first one to get out of the limo in order to be the first one photographed, first by myself then I wanted to be photographed holding the hand of each and everyone one of my little angels getting out of the stretch limo. One can not buy that kind of publicity.

 

Once we got to our destination everybody got out of the limo and we went inside the building, I of course had stop to hand out the same old B.S, which I have been giving the press ever since my husband got elected back in 1995, you know about helping those less fortunate than ourselves. All the time while I was making my entrance in to the theatre and making my statement to the press I was thinking of George and if black boys are as big as they say, the thought of which was causing a certain part of my anatomy to become moist. I was afraid that my excitement would start to show through my dress if like you Americans say get my drift, but fortunately we all got in our seats just as the lights were going out and the opera was beginning.

 

It goes without saying that I was seated right next to my sweet black angel who was going to make my wings take flight on the strength of his long black magic wand and once the opera started I started right in on doing what Michael Jackson also does with the boys he wants to "help". I gently put my hand on his lap next his source of my female pleasure and started to rub in small circles each time getting closer to the part of his body where I hoped his blood would be rushing to by now. I slowly started to massage the part of him that I was sure would give everything that I had ever hoped for. I was unable to see how big it really was but I could tell by the way it felt in my hand that this was what you Americans refer to as "a big deal". The more I handled it the more and more it seemed to grow, I could not believe what I was feeling, I started asking myself could anything really be that large or was this just my imagination running away. I even started to get a little afraid of what my hand had realized. I became fearful of this monster that was taking life in this boy's trousers, I was afraid that my grotto would not be big enough to house this sleeping bear which I had awoken.

 

Then I felt something that I had not expected George took my hand and opened his zipper and put my hand directly on his huge organ and with a smile on his face he turned to me and whispered in my ear "it yours, take it". At first I was truly shocked by what he had done but after a few seconds the shock turned in to pleasure as he continued to give himself pleasure with my hand.

 

I was starting to feel moisture pouring out of me when I finally got a good look at the tool that was going to be attacking my womanhood as no tool ever had or has ever since then. The sight of it renewed my anxiety of whether I could handle something of that magnitude and by now I was becoming fearful that we might get caught after all we were still in the opera, a public place, all these emotions (fear of being caught plus the size of the boy's pride) were only serving to increase my excitement to the point that all I wanted to do was take it like he had said in to my mouth and enjoy that black chocolate.

 

He probably read my mind when he looked me in the eye with his angel like face because much to my shock he took my hand and walked me over to the nearest toilet (after having closed his zipper) where he took full control of not only the situation but of me as well .He made me kneel in front of him as he took what seemed to be a big black wipe which he intended me to devour like a piece a black liquorish. It was so large that it almost opened my mouth by itself as it went in. I could not take it all the way in as it was so big that I could barely take in the whole head, I just limited my self to the head which did not seem to bother him as he held the back of my head as I licked and sucked his lollipop.

 

Two things were on my mind first what would happen if someone walked in, second what would happen if his candy squirted in my mouth. Regarding the first thought I decided to throw caution to the wind but regarding the second thought I simply stopped making him walk around me (I still being on my hands and knees) and bend me over as he pulled up my dress and entered my the paradise of my womanhood. I felt a sharp pain as he penetrated the gap in my body that was intended for such a purpose. His pipe was like a battering ram smashing against me and in me with all the force of a hurricane, this is what I had always wanted but never got. I could tell by the way his big hands stroked my breast and nipples and by the way he held on to my hips as he stabbed me repeatedly over and over that this was nothing new to him. I started to moan and scream. I felt for a moment that this was a rape only that it was me who was doing the raping. I felt as though his sword would cut my body in two but I loved every second of it and I felt my self have the strongest orgasm l had ever known or would know. The rest of it is like a dream where I remember changing positions several times but I don't recall much after that expect that I must have had at least 4 orgasms as opposed to him who had 2 of his own, both of which felt like sprays of hot milk in the deepest part of my womanly soul.

 

We got back in time just to see the begging of the final act, which we spent just smiling at each other. Both of us were so exhausted that we knew that we would have to wait until we got back to the palace for round 2 of our encounter. Which was no less thrilling than round one.

 

The next day I took him and the rest of the boys to the airport and just before he said goodbye to me at the airport he smiled at me as he said to me in front of all my friends and the rest of the boys "now you know Mrs. Kwasznieska why they call me Magic Johnson", to which I replied "I most certainly do know why and they are right you are magic in everyway, please send your friend Jola an email when you get back home" and with those words I left him and walked away to watch his airplane take off in to the blue.

 

Sincerely your friend,

 

Jola

 

P.S. the orgasm I had with you was the second most powerful in my life

 

About the Author

My name is Gianni Truvianni, I am an author who writes with the simple aim of sharing his ideas, thoughts and so much more of what I am with those who are interested in perhaps reading something new. I also am the author of the book entitled "New York's Opera Society" which is now available on Amazon.