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From: RevCottonMather@excite.com (Reverend Cotton Mather)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 16 Jun 2001 14:14:26 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Playing the Game 008/? (mf rom) by Rev. Cotton Mather
Date: Sat, 16 Jun 2001 19:10:05 -0400
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
Welcome to the Church of The Right Reverend Cotton Mather. This story is
the sole property of the author, and may not be copied or downloaded for
the intent of profit. Permission is freely given for anyone to download 
or copy for their personal pleasure or use, as long as there is no 
intent to charge money or barter for the privilege of acquiring this 
material.

(copyright 2001, Rev. Cotton Mather)
------------------------------------------------------------------------



PLAYING THE GAME
by Reverend Cotton Mather




- 8 -

AT THE DRUG STORE
	

For the next three days, I biked over to the Wilkinson house and took 
Davey and Kip to the park to work on their soccer skills.  Every day 
they came tumbling out of the house to meet me, and the two of them 
ran nonstop until I brought them back home an hour later.  Lori 
Wilkinson always invited me in afterwards to have some lemonade, and 
we sat at her kitchen table while the boys ran upstairs to clean up 
after soccer.

Each time I took them out, I could see improvement in their skills.  
They still had the attention span of young boys, but they both loved 
to play soccer, and they loved kicking the ball to each other.  By the 
third day, we were playing a game I called Heads-Up.  The three of us 
were in a moving, revolving triangle, each about 20 feet from each 
other, and we were constantly passing three soccer balls, first 
clockwise, and then counterclockwise.  The exercise kept them moving 
(which they were prone to do anyway), and it helped to develop their 
passing and trapping skills using both feet.  By the end of the day, 
they were both passing equally well with their left and their right 
feet, an accomplishment that not many kids their age could claim.  It 
would give them a distinct advantage in their games very shortly.

The three of us dribbled our soccer balls back to the house from the 
park.  One of my rules for the boys was that they couldn't pick up and 
carry a soccer ball.  They had to dribble it wherever they went, 
except for crossing a street.  They were running ahead of me, then 
turning and dribbling back to circle behind me before racing ahead 
again, using both feet to keep the ball moving.  They were both 
anxious to show their mom what they had been learning, and I was very 
pleased with the way they had taken to the game with such enthusiasm.  
When we got to their front lawn, they both left their soccer balls on 
the grass as they raced each other, both trying to be the first to 
tell Lori about their progress.

"Mom!  Mom!  Come out and see!"

"Come out, Mom, and we'll show you what Sean's been teaching us!"

They were shouting and jumping as they hit the front door.  In just a 
few seconds they each had one of Lori's hands and were both pulling 
her out the door.

"Watch this, Mom!" shouted Davey.  "Kip, go over there, and I'll pass 
it to you!"

Kip ran across the yard, and Davey kicked a pass to him with his right 
foot, and took off running at a right angle.  Kip neatly stopped the 
pass, turned and led Davey with a pass off his left foot.  As soon as 
the ball left his foot, Kip started running back to where Davey had 
been, ready to receive the ball back from his brother.  They wove in 
and out of each other's passing lanes for a few minutes, all the time 
shouting out directions to each other, proud to show off for their 
mother.  Lori stood on the front steps, watching her boys with a big 
smile.

She clapped her hands as she said, "That's great, guys.  I am really 
impressed!"

She turned to me and said, "You've done a truly amazing job with these 
ruffians, Sean.  I can't thank you enough."

"Aw, shucks, ma'am," I said in my best Southern drawl, "It twern't 
nothin'."

"Well, come on in, then, sheriff, and pull up a barstool while I serve 
you up some sarsaparilla," she countered as she opened the door and 
led us into the house.

The boys ran and jumped up the stairs to get cleaned up while Lori and 
I went into the kitchen for some lemonade.  She set out a plate of 
cookies and filled four glasses with ice, and poured freshly made 
lemonade into two of them.  She handed me a glass, and tipped hers 
toward mine in a silent toast before taking a sip.  She sat down next 
to me at the table.

"Do you have a girlfriend, Sean?" she asked after a moment.

"Ummm...no, not really," I replied.

"I guess you know Molly O'Toole, don't you," she said almost to 
herself.

"Yes, I know her and her twin brother.  She was telling me that she 
baby-sits for you sometimes."

"The boys just love her," she said.  "She doesn't seem to mind at all 
when they get rambunctious on her.  She handles them beautifully."

"I know I've mentioned it before, Lori, but it's really true.  Davey 
and Kip are really good kids.  There's no reason not to like them."

She sighed and said, "I know, but I worry anyway."  She reached for 
her purse on the counter and opened it.  "Oh, no, I'm sorry, Sean.  I 
forgot to stop at the ATM to get some money.  Can you stop by later 
tonight?  Or do you have plans?"

My only plan was to see if Kayla could get away to fool around, and I 
figured I could stop by here first, so I said, "Sure, I can stop by.  
Or, if you want, you can just pay me tomorrow."

"Are you sure that's okay, Sean?  I'd be just as happy if I could pay 
you tonight."

"No, tomorrow's fine," I said.  I got up to go.  "But thanks, I 
appreciate it.  I'll see you tomorrow, Lori."



	
"Sean!  Hey, Sean, wait up!"  Josh O'Toole was jogging across the park 
toward me as I rode by.

I stopped and waited for him to catch up.  "Hey, Josh, what's up?"

"Not much," he said, trying to catch his breath.  "I was thinking 
about going over to Lehigh Drugs.  Come on along with me, won't you?"

I shrugged.  "Sure, why not?  What are you getting there?"

He leaned in closer and lowered his voice.  "Condoms," he said. 
"Shayna wants to do it with me, but I've got to get condoms first."

"Wow," I said.  "That's a big step, dude.  When are you going to do 
her?"

"That I don't know yet," he said.  "We were fooling around last night, 
over at my house, and she says she thinks she's ready.  I tell you, 
Sean, I nearly popped a nut on her right then and there, when she said 
that."

"Yeah, I'll bet," I said.  "Then what happened?"

"Well, we're laying there on the floor, and I've got my hand down her 
pants doing the stinkfinger thing, and she comes out with this right 
as I'm trying to get her off, you know?  And she's getting all squirmy 
and all, and she starts to cum all over my hand, and then she goes, 
'Yes, yes, I'm ready', and starts calling my name, you know?  Well, I 
thought she meant right then she was ready, so I tried to get her 
clothes off, but she pushes me away and won't even get me off or 
nothing, you know?  She's really in a huff now, thinks I'm just trying 
to do her when she's, what did she call it?  Oh, yeah, 'In A Weak 
Moment', she called it.  I could almost hear the capital letters on 
the words, you know?  Anyway, she says nothing doing, until I get us 
some protection, and until I do, it's no go for anything.  No 
frenching, no tittie, no nothing until I can prove to her that I 
really love her or something, I guess."

"So, you're going down to the drug store to get some rubbers, and 
that's supposed to prove that you love her?  That doesn't make any 
sense, Josh."

"Aw, hell, don't I know it.  She's a chick, man, and that means she's 
confusing.  All I know is that my first mission is to pick up some 
condoms so that the next time she says she's ready, and who knows 
when that will be, you know what I mean?  Anyway, the next time she 
says she's ready, I'll be ready."

"That's really fucked up, Josh."

"Hey, it's not my logic, dude.  You want to come along?  I don't want 
to stand in that cashier line by myself holding a box of Trojans, you 
know?  I could use the moral support.  How about it?"

I was thinking about Kayla, and how we would never be able to do it 
ourselves without protection, and this was a perfect opportunity to 
supply myself.  I, too, had not been looking forward to purchasing my 
first box of condoms by myself.  Now, with Josh along, I wouldn't 
have to.

"Yeah, okay, I'll come along.  Why not?" I said.

We had to go past my house to get to the drug store, so we dropped off 
my bike on the way and walked over a couple of blocks to the shopping 
center.  When we got there, we were confronted with a dizzying array 
of prophylactics in the back of the store.

"Shit, man, what do we get?" complained Josh.  "I just thought we'd be 
able to come in here, grab a boxful, and take off again.  Why are 
there so many choices?"

"I don't know.  Lubricated, non-lubricated, ribbed, ultra-thin...what's 
this?  FLAVORED condoms?!?" I picked up a box.

A grown-up's voice from behind us startled us, and I dropped the box 
of condoms I had been holding.

"Hello, boys, can I help you with anything?"

I spun around in surprise, and my jaw nearly hit the floor.  It was 
Mr. Lehigh, the owner of the drug store, and Jake and Kayla's father.

"Why, hello, Sean, I didn't expect it to be you here in the birth 
control aisle.  Hello, Josh.  Well, boys, I take it you are 
anticipating some adventures, right?" he said with a smile.

"Well...umm...just trying to be prepared, Mr. Lehigh," stammered Josh 
lamely.  His face was bright red with embarrassment.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Josh, being here.  It's a wise young 
man, these days, who thinks first about these things, instead of 
getting carried away in the moment, if you know what I mean," said 
Mr. Lehigh.  "Now," he continued, "since this seems to be your first 
purchase, let me help you out.  Try a box of these and see how you 
like them."  He took a box of standard, lubricated condoms off the 
shelf and handed them to Josh.  "You can always experiment with other 
options the next time around, but these are good, basic items that 
will give you the protection you want while you learn how to use and 
enjoy them."

"Uh, that's great, Mr. Lehigh.  Thanks a lot for your help," said Josh.

"You're welcome, Josh.  Any other questions, boys?  Sean, are you 
getting some of these, too?"

"Ummm...yeah, maybe I will.  Thanks, Mr. Lehigh," I said.

He handed me a 12-pack like Josh's, then casually waved and moved off 
to wander the aisles, looking for customers with questions.  I watched 
him walk away, and couldn't help wondering if he would have been so 
helpful if he had known that it was his own 13-year-old daughter who 
would be helping me to use these condoms up.  Somehow I didn't think 
so.

Josh and I paid for our purchases and walked out the door, relieved to 
be hiding our stuff in plain brown paper bags, just in case we ran 
into any more parents we knew.



(Continued in Chapter 9)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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