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Message-ID: <34171asstr$1008781811@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <RevCottonMather@excite.able.boy.com>
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 19 Dec 2001 13:03:29 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Playing the Game  19/30 (mf rom)
Date: Wed, 19 Dec 2001 12:10:11 -0500
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Welcome to the Church of The 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)

E-Mail all comments to RevCottonMather@excite.com
Don't be shy!  I enjoy hearing from you.

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PLAYING THE GAME
by Reverend Cotton Mather




- 19 -

THE GAME OF LIFE



The next few weeks went by in kind of a blur.  There were tests and
quizzes to study for, there was soccer practice every day after
school, our games were every Friday after school, and my weekends
were taken up with watching Davey and Kip play soccer on Saturday
mornings, doing my chores around the house in the afternoon, then
meeting up with some of my friends Saturday night.  Sometimes Molly
and I would hook up with Tessa and Kristina and Jen and Sam and we
would go to a movie, or sometimes we would hang around and watch
television with some of our friends.  Other times I would get
together with Jake or Josh, and we would go to the mall to play video
games.  It turned out that Josh never did get to use his condoms with
Shayna.  She broke up with him right after he got them, and now she
wouldn't even speak to him.  It hurt him, I know, but he wouldn't
talk about it at all, and no other girl that we knew attracted him
much at the moment.  Let it run its course, I thought to myself.  It
will all work itself out.

Jake, on the other hand, pretty much walked around with a smile on
his face all the time.  He wouldn't talk about why, either, but I was
willing to wager hard-earned cash that he and Jaimie were finding a
way to use up the condoms he got from me.

Our soccer team remained undefeated, winning our games by an average
of 4 goals.  Scouts from Division 1 schools were showing up at our
games to watch Skip play, and as a nice side benefit, Theo started
getting some good mentions in the local press, too, so he was also
drawing some scouts to our games.

Coach Neville, always mindful of the future, played his subs as much
as he could toward the end of the games, when the outcome was
certain.  As a result, all of us got a little playing time each game,
including our tested tough freshman backup keeper, Jorge Mendoza.

By the time Sunday rolled around, I was usually pretty exhausted.  I
was able to sleep in, sometimes not rousing until noon or after.  My
dad, my brothers and I would sit around and watch football on TV, and
Sunday evenings would be catch up on homework time, from immediately
after dinner until bedtime.

Things changed, beginning on the last Saturday of September.



Molly, Tessa and I went to Davey and Kip's soccer game in the
morning.  Each time I watched them play, I could see the results of
our lessons taking hold.  More and more of their teammates were
starting to play positions on the field, and the swarmball mentality
lessened.  The most obvious result of this change was that they were
winning a lot of their games, now that they were able to control the
ball more.  Possession is a great offensive tool, Mr. Reyes used to
say, and he was right.  If your team held the ball for most of the
game, the other team couldn't score.  It was simple strategy, easy to
teach but very tough to learn.

Lori sat next to us on the sidelines.  She was looking a little
tired herself.  Molly was supposed to babysit for her later that
night, and I had been invited over to watch a movie with Molly and
the boys.  

Coach Bill came over after the game to chat with us.

"How's the team doing, Sean?" he asked.

"Undefeated.  I just wish I could get a little more playing time."

"You'll get your chance.  And I know you'll make the most of it when
you do," he said.  "I've got a favor to ask.  I'm going to be out of
town next Saturday.  Could you stand in as coach for me for their
game?"

"Sure, I'll be glad to," I told him.  I was surprised he didn't ask
one of the parents to do it, but it made me proud that he trusted me
with the team.

"We're practicing tomorrow afternoon right here.  Can you make it? 
I'll introduce you to the rest of the team then, and explain to them
what to expect next game day."

"Sure, that's fine.  Is it okay if Molly and Tessa come along, too?"

"Of course.  As a matter of fact, I was going to ask Tessa if she
could work with my keepers a little bit anyway, so that works out
great."  He paused.  "If that's all right with you, Tessa.  I didn't
mean to be presumptuous."

"That's fine, Coach," said Tessa.  "I'll be happy to help."



It was turning into a beautiful fall evening.  I rode my bike over
to the Wilkinson house after dark.  The leaves on the trees were just
turning into their amazing annual display of colors, and some were
just starting to fall.  I could hear the crunch of dried leaves
underneath my tires as I rolled along the street.

I dropped my bike on the front lawn and climbed the steps to the
front door.  I opened the screen to knock on the door, but it opened
before I had a chance.

"Hi, Sean!"  "Hi, Sean!"

The two boys were nearly identical echoes of each other as they
jostled to be the first to grab my hand and pull me into the house. 
The aroma of freshly popped popcorn came from the direction of the
kitchen, and I could hear the rattle of ice in glasses from there.

"Come in, Sean.  We're going to play Life!" cried Kip.

"What's Life?" I asked with a smile.  It was a line in an old song I
heard my mom singing occasionally.

"It's a game!" shouted Davey.  "Don't you know about Life?"

"I guess not," I answered.  "What's it all about?"

"Come on, we'll show you."  And off they dragged me, into the family
room where the board game was set up on the coffee table.

The three of us sat on the floor around the table.  Davey and Kip
had already chosen the pieces they would be playing with, and they
started running the little cars around the board, following the
painted road around and over the bridge and back to the starting
point again.

Molly came in with drinks and popcorn.  She favored me with a very
warm smile as she set out the glasses and cans of soda.  She put the
big bowl of popcorn on the end of the table, nearest the boys, and
sat down on the floor to my right.  She was wearing black jeans and a
baggy black sweatshirt that set off the golden red highlights in her
hair.

The next couple of hours were spent in the pursuit of careers,
families, education, and retirement funds as we played game after
game of Life.  We laughed and yelled and threw tiny little blue and
pink pegs at each other, and generally had a great time.

Finally, though, it was bedtime for Davey and Kip.  Molly hustled
them up the stairs to get ready for bed.  While she was supervising
brushing teeth and washing faces and hanging up clothes and putting
on pyjamas, I cleaned up the family room.  I carried the dirty
glasses and empty pop cans into the kitchen, threw out the remains of
the popcorn, and put the game back into its box.  I straightened up
the pillows on the couch and crawled around the room picking up bits
of popcorn from the floor.  By the time I was finished, she was
turning out the lights and closing the doors of the boys' rooms,
whispering a wish for a good night to each of them in turn.  She came
down the stairs slowly, walked over to the end table to turn off the
lamp, and collapsed onto one end of the couch.  As she slouched
there, she beckoned to me with one lazy arm, a come-hither wave to
her fingers.  I knelt on the couch next to her and leaned toward her.
Her arm, still hanging out there, snaked around my neck as I bent
down to kiss her softly.

"Mmmmm..." she said, her eyes closing.  I could see the cares of the
world washing out of her face as she relaxed and let the pleasures of
the evening begin to work on her.

"Come here," she whispered, pulling me down for another kiss.  As
our lips met, I felt her open her mouth slightly and her tongue dart
out to tease my mouth.  I let my tongue peek out to touch tips,
poking and teasing and tasting for a few moments.

I was still kneeling over her, so I shifted one knee between her
slightly spread legs.  I was leaning on my left elbow with my hand
resting on the top of her head, and my other hand was at her soft
throat, tangled in her hair.

She pulled me closer, and opened her mouth a little more, inviting
my tongue into her.  The kiss got harder and wetter, and my internal
thermostat kicked up several notches.  I had vivid memories of what
her leg had done to me the last time we were in the woods, and here I
was in an advantageous position to return the favor.  I settled in a
bit and began a slow ascent up the inside of her leg with my knee,
making sure my foot and ankle kept contact with her.  My knee stroked
its way up the inside of her thigh, and her legs moved apart to
accommodate me.  Simultaneously, my foot traveled up her calf and
stopped at the inside of her knee the same time my knee reached the
juncture of her legs.  I pressed against her just for a moment, and
allowed my leg to descend at the same slow rate.

When I pressed against her pussy, she moaned into my mouth and
squirmed a little under me.  She used both arms now to pull be even
tighter to her as we both heated up.  I let my right hand drift down,
caressing her ear, then her throat.  I felt the rough cotton of the
neck of her sweatshirt, and brushed down the top of her shoulder,
around to her back, and then down, slowly, slowly, to her waist,
where I let my hand rest for a moment.  At the same time, my leg was
continuing its own exploring of her lower half, stroking up, then
down, then up again, each time pressing just a little more firmly
into the seams of her jeans.

My fingers found the bottom hem of her sweatshirt and wormed their
way underneath to the soft skin of her lower back.  Her skin was hot
to the touch, burning with an inner fire I could only know second-
hand.  (The knee moves up, so slowly)  I played with her skin,
tinkling with my fingertips, letting her furnace warm my hand.  (The
knee presses against her, she thrusts her tongue into my mouth and
then retreats, daring me to follow)  My fingers spider-walked up her
back an inch at a time, acknowledging the play of the lateral muscles
they were encountering.  (The knee begins its slow move back down her
thigh, the foot caresses the calf from top to ankle)  Halfway up her
back I could feel her begin to quiver in heat, desire, frustration. 
My fingers tiptoed a little higher up her back.  Where I would
normally encounter a bra strap across her back, there was nothing but
unencumbered skin.  (The knee stops, pauses, and ascends to approach
the portal once more)  My heart rate quickened with the realization
that I didn't have the intricacies of the hook-and-eye maze of a bra
to worry about as my hand continued its upward journey, wrapping
itself around her bare shoulder in a digital hug.  (The quiver has
reached her center, just as my knee presses once again against her;
her hips now are engaged, pushing her heated cunt against me)  I
could wait no longer, and my hand left her shoulder to caress down a
little, to just under her arm, and around to the soft mound of her
breast.  (My knee, instead of moving back down her leg, presses
harder against her; I can feel her shaking in anticipation, and I can
faintly smell her excitement)  I squeezed as my hand completely
covered her breast.  I could feel the nipple heat up and expand
against the tenderer skin of the palm of my hand.  With an audible
smack, the contact of our mouths broke, and she threw her head back
in pleasure, sighing my name.  I bent down and kissed that hot spot
just below her ear, just in back of her jawline, and licked up into
her ear.  She squealed breathlessly and held me tightly to her, her
hips bumping up at my intruding knee.  Even through two pairs of
jeans I could feel the heat emanating from her there.

I tried kneading her breast, followed by tracing concentric circles
with my fingertips from the soft, sweet underside, around the outer
diameter, and in toward the turgid nipple, finally teasing and
pinching that swollen tip, then running my fingers across her chest
to her other breast.  I repeated my ministrations, not wanting to
favor one over the other, but treating them both like they were my
very best friends.  She reached down and found the edge of my shirt,
pulling it out of my jeans and running her hands up and down my back,
scratching lightly with her fingernails.  Shivers followed wherever
her nails scratched, giving me a hollow feeling inside of suspense
and anticipation.

I sat up and lifted up the edge of her sweatshirt.  She sat up a
bit, lifted her arms, and allowed me to shuck it off her.  Her hair
swept up with the movement of the sweatshirt as it popped off her
head, then fell back down in a swooping arc to swirl softly across
her bare shoulders.  Her chest was flushed, her freckles almost
dancing as she breathed deeply.  Her small breasts moved with her
breathing, the nipples red and swollen and inviting.  I bent down to
pay homage to her wonderful body, licking and softly biting at her
nipples and breasts, caressing and squeezing and worshipping.  She
pulled at my shirt, making me sit up while she pulled it over my
head, then settled back once again to accept more of my attentions to
her sensitive boobs.

After a few more minutes concentrating on her breasts, I dragged my
tongue down, from the valley between her tits to her belly button. 
My hands stayed on their prizes, her swollen nubs, while I licked
around and down into her sensitive navel, sending up a renewed
quivering in her stomach muscles.  Finally I trickled my hands down,
down to the snap of her jeans.  I pulled it apart, and grasped the
tab of her zipper and pulled it down.  Her jeans parted to reveal the
pale blue of her underwear, and the musky tang of her juices reached
my nose, sending another flare up my spine to reverberate in my
nearly empty skull.  I tugged on her jeans, pulling them down from
her hips, and grabbed the waistband of her panties at the same time. 
She lifted up her beautiful bottom and helped me push her pants down
and off, lifting up each leg in turn so I could remove them.  She
settled back down against the couch, legs akimbo, in anticipation.

I tried not to disappoint.  The tricks I had learned previously came
in handy now.  I bent down and applied tongue and fingers to the
task.  I licked, I probed, I suckled, I caressed.  I spread oily
moisture from source to fingertips, and brushed the oily fingertips
around and through her folds and crevices.  I found her tiny clitoris
first with a finger, then with a tongue, and played with it like it
was a favorite toy.  Her nether lips swelled and parted, opening the
way to her overheated cavity, and my fingers delved there for a time,
followed by a probing tongue.  Her body language told me what I
should do, from the quiver of her sympathetic muscles to the way she
grabbed my head to pull me tighter against her.  Her legs were
splayed out by now, one leg on the couch and the other on the floor,
and her hips kept up a nearly continuous undulation and hunching
motion as I pleasured her.  I tasted, probed, sucked, waggled.  I
used my fingers in places my tongue was ignoring, then switched
duties.  I was rewarded with an increasing flow of lubrication from
her, and I eagerly lapped it all up.

Finally, just as my tongue was tiring, she pulled my head up and off
her.  I looked up at her.  she was smiling, and her eyes were shining.

"Come here," she whispered.

I shimmied back up her, my hand still trailing behind to dip and
delve and keep the fire stoked.  She pulled me up and kissed me hard,
eyes open and an amused look on her face, her happiness and arousal
plain on her gorgeous face.

She grimaced.  "Is that what I taste like?" she whispered.

"Don't worry about it, it's much better direct from the source," I
replied.

"Yuck.  Well, as long as you like it..." she said.

"The elixer of life," I said.  Still, I wiped off my face and mouth
before kissing her again.

She reached for my belt, suddenly anxious to continue our pleasures.

"Did you bring any?  I brought one, just in case you forgot," she
said.

"Are you stealing from poor Josh again?" I asked.  She was bent
down, concentrating on the unfastening of my belt and jeans.  Her
struggles caused her perky tits to jiggle slightly, tempting me to
caress them again.  I reached down with one hand to hold one boob
lightly.

"He doesn't seem to be using them anyway, and I didn't want them to
get old and stale," she said.

My scrambled brain went suddenly dead for a moment as she parted my
jeans and reached in to grasp my steely rod.  What was I about to
say?  Oh, yeah.

"I think it takes a long time for them to get old and stale," I said.

"Can't take any chances," she muttered as she yanked my jeans down. 
They were down around my ankles by now, and she abandoned them in
favor of the prize still hiding in my underwear.  She grabbed the
elastic and pulled them down, her eyes wide and bright as she
unwrapped the gift standing straight and proud in front of her.  I
used my feet to fumble my jeans and underwear off.  She pushed me
back onto the couch and looked at what her hands were holding.   One
hand was wrapped around my rigid cock, the other was exploring my
balls.  I reached down to get the condom out of my jeans pocket,
holding it until she was ready.

It didn't take her long to get ready.  I handed her the foil packet.
She ripped it open with her teeth and removed the latex ring.  Now
that she was a little more experienced, she was quicker in rolling it
onto me.  I was unsure whether that was a particularly good thing,
having enjoyed her fumbling tries immensely on our previous
encounters.  Be that as it may, Molly was in a bit of a hurry for
herself, too.  She put her hands on my shoulders and swung her leg
over me.  She grabbed my latex covered missile and held it straight
up, pointed at the silo of her center.  She crouched down just a
little, rubbing the head up and down her flooded slit to transfer
some of her lubrication to the tip, giving herself a shivery moment
of pleasure at the same time when she bumped me against her swollen
clit.  She forced the head harder against her, pushing open her
flowering petals, until she felt the helmet rest at the opening to
her ready vagina.  She paused to prolong the feeling of anticipation,
and then dropped slowly, oh so slowly, impaling herself on me.  The
entry was tight and excruciatingly hot, the pleasure nearly
overwhelming as she dropped, lifted up to relieve the pressure
momentarily, then dropped more.  Over and over she lifted, dropped,
lifted, creating a delicious friction between us, until, finally, I
felt her settle down on me, completely imbedded.

She sighed, surrendering herself to the pleasure she was
experiencing from her center, and bent down to impart a hot, open-
mouthed kiss.  I put one arm around her neck, and the other hand
found its way to her soft breast.  When I pinched her swollen nipple,
she squealed into my mouth and hunched faster on my cock, instantly
sending bolts of heat through every nerve.  She broke the kiss and
stretched her head up in ecstasy, arching her back and pushing her
boob harder into my hand.  I reached up with my head and captured her
other nipple in my mouth and sucked hard on her.  I felt the tip of
her breast slip into my mouth, until the nub of her nipple was firmly
against the middle of my tongue.  I rubbed it back and forth, all the
while sucking more of her boob into my mouth, and she started
bouncing hard on me.  She let out a breathy moan as she lifted up,
paused, crashed down on me, and ground her pubic bone against mine. 
She was in high gear, gasping for breath, as both our heart rates
climbed into the red zone.

She rode me hard, there on the couch, wringing every last mote of
pleasure to be had from our joining.  Finally, she crashed down on
me, impaled to the hilt, and ground against me.  She kept on grinding
until she was swept over the edge.  She collapsed bonelessly on top
of me, surrendering to her climax, her hips twitching and her
sensitive walls pulsing against my iron cock.

That surrender took me to my climax with her.  I pushed up against
her hard, trying in vain to bury even more of me in her warm and
inviting heat, and that set the pump in motion.  I contracted until
my stomach and thigh muscles nearly cramped, and then shot stream
after stream of hot seed out of me and into the latex reservoir.  I
hunched and pumped, each one after the first few a little weaker than
the one before, until there was nothing left to give her.  I was done
for, and could have happily died right then.

I weakly put my arms around her, brushing her sweaty hair out of her
face, gazing at the lovely aspect of Molly, passive and staring ahead
at nothing, lost in the afterglow of her orgasm.  We lay there
together just like that, warm and comfortable as lovers should be,
until the end of time.  Well, at least until we started to cool off,
our sweat-slick bodies slippery against each other, my still hard
cock buried where it belonged.

She groaned and lifted herself off me, releasing me from her hold. 
My dick flopped down to rest like a defeated dragon against my belly,
the slippery latex frothy from the churning of her juices.  I slowly
sat up and slipped the condom off and stumbled over to the bathroom
to flush it away.  I heard Molly stirring, then I heard her talking
to herself.

"What is it, Mol?" I asked as I came back into the room.

"You've got to hurry up and get dressed," she said.  "Mrs. Wilkinson
will be home in about fifteen minutes, and we've got to straighten up
this room and check on the boys."  She was half dressed already.  I
watched with regret as she pulled her sweatshirt over her head and
down, hiding once again the vision of her perfectly formed boobs.  I
longed to kiss them one more time, but it was not to be on this night.

I grabbed my clothes and hurriedly dressed while Molly found some
air freshener and ran around the room, frantically spraying the air. 
I straightened up the cushions on the couch, and she ran upstairs to
make sure Davey and Kip were still fast asleep.

"Everything's quiet," she reported when she came back downstairs. 
We turned on the TV and settled back, finding an old Laurel and Hardy
comedy on a channel.  We snuggled up together, arms wrapped around
each other, giving each other small, soft kisses on cheeks and lips,
as we waited for Lori to get home.  She teasingly put her hand high
on my thigh and let her fingers tease up and down, causing me a
little discomfort as my expanding cock found itself confined in my
jeans, until I finally put my hand on hers and held it still.

Right on time, we heard Lori's car in the driveway, followed by her
key rattling in the lock at the back door.  We stood and came out to
the kitchen to greet her as she came in.  She looked very tired, but
she was smiling easily, something that was missing too often in her
life lately.  She paid Molly for babysitting, and bid us both a good
night as we headed out the door.

Molly and I talked of nothing on the walk back to her house, and I
left her at her front door after giving her one last kiss and an
embrace.  Those luscious boobs pressed against my chest, almost
getting me started again.  She turned and went in to the house, and
turned off the porch light as I got on my bike and rode home.

I was tired but very happy as I got home, thinking of Molly and our
evening together.  I still had three condoms left, so I felt like a
rich man.  I dropped my bike by the garage and tried to be quiet as I
opened the back door.  I stepped into the kitchen, and all the lights
were on in the house, something that had never occurred before at
this time of night.  

"Sean?  Is that you?"  I heard my mother call out my name from the
other room, not a good sign.  Suddenly concerned, and too conscious
of the smell of sex surrounding me, I walked into the family room to
find my mother, my father, and my brother Michael sitting there,
staring at me.

"What's the matter?" I asked nervously.  I'm not sure I really
wanted to know.

"Son, there's a phone number here for you to call.  They said to
call as soon as you got home, no matter what time it was."  My dad
handed me a piece of paper with a telephone number written on it.  I
looked up at each of them, but it was obvious that they had told me
all they knew.  They were concerned, too, it was obvious, since they
had waited up for me to make sure I got the message.  But the
message, such as it was, was worrisome, to be certain.  I didn't
recognize the number.

I walked over to the telephone on the end table by the couch.



(Continued in Chapter 20)

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