Volley Ball Practice

The bell whistled and Kyle attempted to spike the ball. The ball flew threw the air and hit the net. Another bell whistled, the play was incomplete. Kyle pulled upwards on his bra straps, there had to be a way to to stop the pointless jiggling of his breasts.

"Common Kyle, you wanna fill in for your girlfriend or what?" Vanessa, the coach shouted. "She's a top tier beach volleyball player and you're making her look like a freaking middle schooler. Get your act together!"

"It's these tits, they get in the way of every shot." Kyle said attempting to serve again.

"Boo fucking hoo," Vanessa blew the whistle again. "Did Amy cry to you when she won city championship with her breasts? Grow a fucking pair." Vanessa blew the whistle again, Kyle cringed. He was suspecting she only blew the whistle to piss him off. "Maybe if you wore the right bra to practice you'd have an easier time."

"Wait," Kyle whipped the sand from his cleavage. "you mean there's more than one kind of bra?"

Vanessa burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Kyle asked, his hand akimbo.

"You mean that Amy told you that there's only one kind of bra out there? You poor poor man," she continued laughing.

"Stop it!" Kyle said, Vanessa ignored him and blew the whistle again. Kyle cringed in response.