Message-ID: <34329asstr$1009602607@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <newsadm@att.net> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <RevCottonMather@excite.able.boy.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <ap1p2ukr250jla7vo4b4g83ehpvn134o14@4ax.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 28 Dec 2001 14:51:49 GMT X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: Fri, 28 Dec 2001 14:51:49 GMT Subject: {ASSM} Playing the Game 28/30 (mf rom) Date: Sat, 29 Dec 2001 00:10:07 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2001/34329> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw --------------------------------------------------------------------- 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. --------------------------------------------------------------------- PLAYING THE GAME by Reverend Cotton Mather - 28 - THE FLYING MENDOZAS Even while it seemed like my personal life was going into the crapper, my soccer-playing alter-ego was flourishing. In the two weeks since my selection as an All-State athlete, even snooty upperclassmen were saying hello to me at school. It was an odd juxtaposition. On the one hand, Molly and Tessa were barely speaking to me. On the other hand, I was becoming something of a BMOC, a Big Man On Campus. The other jocks in school, football players and basketball players and track and field guys, finally were accepting the fact that soccer could actually be a real sport, and the members of the varsity and junior varsity soccer teams were finally being accepted into the Fraternity of Sweat. The next weekend, my family and I were invited down to the State Capitol for a reception for all the All-State honorees. Soccer still wasn't a first-tier sport, so the Governor wasn't going to come, opting instead to send the Lieutenant Governor in his place. We checked into the sponsoring hotel on Friday evening. There was an informal party for the All-Staters in one of the conference rooms that night after dinner. It was a chance for the players from around the state to get together socially, so we could try to get to know each other. Parents and families would be there, but were invited to the formal dinner and ceremonies on Saturday night. Friday night's party was reserved for the athletes. I walked into the room a little nervously. I only knew a couple of the guys by sight, having played against them during the tournaments, but I hadn't ever met any of them before, since there wasn't anybody else from my school, or for that matter from my home conference, that was selected. I saw Jesse Wilhoit, the All-American forward from Planey, standing with a couple of other guys near the soda bar. He glanced over at me, leaned in to his group to say something, then started walking toward me. "Sean Porter?" he asked as he came up to me. "Yeah," I answered. "You're Jesse Wilhoit, right?" "Right," he said. "We played against each other a couple of weeks ago. You torched me pretty good that game, Porter." Suddenly embarrassed, I quickly replied, "No, I didn't. I think you scored three quick ones on us early in the game, didn't you?" He grinned. "Yep, I did, but then your guys on defense shut me down. That was a cute trick, using a double sweeper. Didn't hurt your offense any to do that, either, did it?" I smiled. "No, I guess it didn't." "And, if I remember right, you got the assist on the winning goal that game, didn't you?" he asked. "Well," I said hesitantly, "Yeah, I guess I did." "See? You did torch me." He laughed. "Set on fire by a sophomore! Boy, that felt good, let me tell you." He started steering me toward the group he had left to come talk to me. "It felt good?" I asked. It was a puzzling thing to say. "You betcha. I was way too big for my britches all season long. I was headed for a fall. I'm just glad it happened now, when I was still playing high school soccer. I've got a full ride to the University of Florida next year, and I would have really been in deep shit if I had walked in there thinking I was King Soccer, and then have somebody there kick my ass like you did. So, you see, you did me a big favor in that game," he finished as we stepped up to the others. "Okay, if you say so," I said doubtfully. Jesse introduced me to Wayne Phillips, a senior keeper, and to Harlan Corwin, a junior forward, both from Rock Falls, the state champions. "Jesse's been telling us about your game against Planey," said Wayne. "I'm glad you got that out of your system before you played us." "Well, we were on a high for Friday's match, but by the time we got to you guys reality had set in," I replied. "Besides, your team was really good. You deserved to win State." We fell quite naturally into an easy friendship that evening, and I relaxed and enjoyed meeting all the guys. There was just one other sophomore on the All-State team, a midfielder from South High School in the city named Spencer Goldman. I saw him standing near the door, looking uncomfortable, so I excused myself from the group and went over and introduced myself. I insisted he come over with me, which he reluctantly did, and Jesse, Wayne, and Harlan treated him with the same respect they had showed me. It made me realize that these guys were all here for the same reasons, because they loved the game they played, and they were recognized as being good at the game, just like everybody else in the room. It created a real sense of comradeship among all of us. The next night at the banquet, Jesse made sure that we sat with his family at a large round table. My mom and dad and my brothers Michael and Stephen were falling all over themselves over the fact that they were sitting at the table of the state's only soccer All- American. Jesse and I just laughed at the absurdity of it all. Jesse introduced his parents and his younger sister Anna, a pretty, dark-haired freshman with shiny braces on her teeth. She must have been embarrassed by those braces, because she rarely smiled. When she did smile, though, her whole face lit up, and she turned from merely pretty into something extraordinarily precious, and I couldn't help staring at her in awe. Later on, after dinner and dessert, and after the Lieutenant-Governor had given his speech and handed out plaques to all the players, a band set up in a corner of the room began to play. Jesse, having noticed the effect Anna was having on me, amused himself by insisting I dance with her. After cajoling me mercilessly, joined in by Michael and Stephen, I finally got up and asked her if she would like to dance. Her face turned beet red, but I was rewarded with one of her radiant smiles as she nodded and stood. She was nearly as tall as I was, and very self-conscious as we walked to the dance floor and found a space. It was a fast song, so we shook and jumped all over the place together, hidden in the middle of the crowd. Her hair bobbed up and down as she danced, and, even though I tried not to stare, I couldn't help but notice that her small boobs jiggled just a little bit as she moved. Unfortunately, all that did was remind me of how much I had missed warm female companionship, now that Molly was getting her itch scratched somewhere else. I certainly wasn't going to try anything with Anna, especially with her big brother around, but it was apparent that I was a horny young man who was temporarily smitten. I tried to concentrate on watching Anna's face, but I still found my eyes sliding down occasionally. I would notice where I was looking, and jerk my eyes back up to her face. A couple of times she noticed, but was too nice to slap my face or anything. She would just turn a faint pink again, smile at me, and continue dancing. To my surprise, I found myself having fun with Anna. We ended up staying out on the dance floor, shaking and shucking to the fast songs, box-stepping to the slow songs, and even standing there, side by side, watching the band play on those occasions when the beat was one of those in-between rhythms that I have always found it hard to dance to. She was comfortable staying by my side, and I fell into an easy association with her. By the last set we were holding hands in between dances, neither of us willing to go back to our table and possibly break the spell. Finally, though, the band played their last song. Anna and I were just about the last couple left on the dance floor, and we stayed there, dancing close, until the echoes of the last notes bounced off the walls and faded into quiet. Only then did we reluctantly turn to walk back to our table. Jesse and Michael were still sitting there, paying absolutely no attention to us. Apparently they were becoming good friends, from the look of things. Wayne and Harlan and a couple of other All-Staters were also there, sitting in on their conversation. When Anna and I walked up, she dropped my hand before her brother could see her and say anything. We sat with the others, until a few minutes later it was clear that the party was breaking up. As we all walked toward the banquet hall doors, Anna and I delayed as much as we could, lagging behind the others on the way down the hall toward the elevators. Jesse managed to herd everybody into one elevator, and, with a little smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye, pressed the button to close the door just as Anna and I got to them. He winked at us just before the doors closed, leaving us to get our own elevator. Anna's cheeks turned red, and she shyly reached for my hand once the coast was clear, and we stood there, hand in hand, as we waited for the next elevator. An older couple got on the elevator with us, so we stepped to the back corner, silently holding hands, until we got to the fourth floor, where the Wilhoits were staying. I walked her to her door, which was left open a crack. We stood facing each other silently, each of us nervous about what might be expected of us by the other, until I finally slipped my arms around her and pulled her to me. She put her arms around my neck as I kissed her softly on her lips. I could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks as she flushed, so I let her go and dropped my arms, stepping back. "Goodnight, Anna," I said quietly. "I'm glad you were there tonight." I turned to go back to the elevator. "Sean?" I turned back to her. "Thank you for tonight. I'll remember it always," she said. She had one hand on the doorknob, the other at her throat. I tried to memorize how she looked in just that moment, so I could recall the vision she presented as she stood there, shy and smiling her dazzling, beautiful smile, shot through with white and silver. Back at school on the next Monday, I very quickly fell back into the routine, and only occasionally thought about calling or writing to Anna, until, finally, I hardly thought about her at all. Around Valentine's Day, our school held its annual Turnabout dance. Back when my parents were going to school, a turnabout dance was themed around Sadie Hawkins Day, a fictional holiday created by cartoonist Al Capp. They dressed up like hillbillies straight out of "Li'L Abner" and Dogpatch, his cartoon creation. By now, though, our school had dropped the Sadie Hawkins name, the bib overalls and blacked out teeth and hay stuck in your hair had been abandoned in favor of casual, comfortable clothes, and the event was moved from mid-November to February. It was still a turnabout event, though, with the girls asking the guys out, asking the guys to dance, all that stuff. The bunch of us decided to go to the dance as a big group, instead of putting ourselves through the pressure cooker of finding dates. Josh had been going out with Andrea Coulter since just before Christmas, and they were going to be joining Toby, Jake, Jorge, Kristina, Ashley Horvath, Becky Steinman, and me at the dance, and at a local restaurant afterwards for desserts and sodas. The dance was held in the school gym, and it was decorated Dogpatch style, with hand painted banners and signs, bales of straw, and crockery jugs marked "XXX" with magic marker, I suppose as a sop to the old traditions. I met up with the group at the dance, and we wandered slowly around the gym, stopping to catch up with our friends, checking out who was with whom. I stopped and traded backslaps and lies with some of the kids I knew. I happened to glance over toward the double doors of the gym and saw Kevin Soranno and John Pennington come in the door with their dates, and there was a big crowd gathering around them. Jorge, Kristina , Ashley and I headed their way, intending to say hello, when the people standing around them parted momentarily, and I got a glimpse of a wheelchair being pushed through the door by a man who looked like he was somebody's father. As we got up to the edge, John and Kevin spotted us and waved the group back to let us through, just as Mr. Jameson was able to wheel Theo into the room and to the side. Theo saw me and smiled, all the while nodding and waving at all the well-wishers gathering around. "Porter!" he called in a surprisingly strong voice. "Damn, boy, it's good to see you. I've been reading about you, and these guys here," he said, jerking his thumb at Kevin and John, "can't seem to shut up about you. Congratulations!" "Thanks, Theo. We all have been thinking about you, too, obviously. How are you feeling?" "Pretty damn great right about now, but I think that's because I'm living better through chemistry. I've got a whole damn drugstore running through my veins right now." "Wow, it's really good to see you. This is such a surprise." "I don't think I'm going to get out on the dance floor tonight, but I'm getting closer," he said with a smile. He looked over my shoulder and saw Ashley Horvath standing behind me, peeking around to see Theo sitting there. His face kind of crumpled. "Oh, Ash, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. How are you doing?" Seeing Skip's sister wasn't something he was expecting, and it was affecting him. Ashley could see it, too, and rushed over and knelt to give Theo a fierce hug. "I'm doing okay, Theo," she quietly whispered to him. "I'm glad to see you're doing better, too." "Yeah," he whispered back to her, "I'm doing better. It's been really tough. But it's been tough on everybody, especially you. You sure you're doing okay? Say, you didn't bring this sorry excuse for a soccer player, did you?" She looked up at me, and her face tinged pink. "No," she said, smiling. "I just came with along with Sean's friends, that's all." "Well, if he tries anything, you come look for me. I'll give him what-for," he said as he let her go. His eyes were shining with unshed tears, for Ashley, for Skip, for himself. "Thanks, Theo. I will." She turned then and walked away quickly. I thought she needed a moment to compose herself, so I shook Theo's hand, assured him I would come talk to him later, and handed him back to John and Kevin before going off to catch up with Ashley. She was still slowly walking away, staying close to the wall, when I jogged up and put my hand on her shoulder. "Ash?" I asked gently. "Are you okay?" She turned and melted into my arms and sobbed. "I miss him so much, Sean," she cried. Her face was buried in my shoulder, and I could feel the sobs wracking her. "So do I, babe," I whispered. "So do I." She got herself under control and stood up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. "Thanks, Sean," she said. "Thanks for being a friend." "Aw, cut it out," I said. I wiped the last of her tears off her cheek with my fingertips. "Go fix your makeup, kiddo. I'll be right over there," I continued, pointing to where Jorge and Kristina were standing, waiting for us. "Okay," she said. She headed toward the girl's restroom. Kristina saw where she was going and met her on the way. She started chattering to Ashley as they pushed open the door. I knew Kristina was trying to distract her, take her mind off her dead brother with idle gossip. She was very perceptive about other people's moods and feelings, a sympathy that came naturally to her. I walked over to Jorge to wait for them to return. "She's upset about Theo and Skip?" asked Jorge. "Yeah. She really misses her brother. Hey, Jorge, why don't you work on getting her to dance with you? When they do the Men's Choice dance, you should ask her," I suggested. "You t'ink?" he asked. "I dunno, man, I don' wanna get shot down, you know? I t'ink you da man in her eyes right now, Sean." Well, that surprised me. I hadn't thought of Ashley in that way before. In fact, I really hadn't thought of any girl in that way too much since my split with Molly, except maybe for Anna Wilhoit. Sure, like any red-blooded teenager, I was in lust with nearly every girl I saw, but I was also a bit of a romantic. Me and Ashley? Nah. The girls came out of the washroom together. Ashley was laughing at something Kristina had just said, and was turned to her, hand on Kristina's arm, as they sauntered our way. I looked at both of them a little more closely. Ashley had on a skirt and sweater. She was very slim, barely five feet tall. She had light brown hair cut just to her shoulders, and when she smiled, her silver braces flashed. She was extraordinarily cute. Unfortunately for Ashley, she was walking next to somebody who, I suddenly realized, made her look thin and drab in comparison. Kristina, walking beside her, was devastating. She tended to dress either in black or in white, which set off her coloring very well, and tonight was no exception. She had on a sleek black dress that was very modest at the hem and neck, but tight enough to show off her very fit form. Her hair was jet black and long, almost to the middle of her back, and she had thick bangs that were cut below her dark eyebrows. Her skin glowed, and her eyes flashed with amusement as they glanced our way. I noticed that she seemed to almost glide across the floor, instead of walking with a stride like Ashley. Damn, I thought to myself. Have these two always looked this good? That was the moment, I believe, that I realized I might be completely over Miss Molly O'Toole. The four of us wound our way across the gym to the rest of our group, now congregated against the folded-up bleachers. As soon as we walked up to them, Becky grabbed my hand and dragged me out to the dance floor. Becks also played soccer, but only recreationally. I had acted as referee for one of her games during the summer, but I didn't get to know her until school started. She was almost my height, with dark blonde, almost brown hair that she almost always wore in a short ponytail. Tonight, however, her hair was down, just touching her shoulders. We were dancing fast to an old Chuck Berry song, and her hair was swinging back and forth across her face, hiding and then revealing her features as she moved. It was almost hypnotic in its metronome sway. By the time the song ended, I was a little lightheaded just from watching her hair fly around. We held hands companionably on our way back to the group. Just as the next song, a Beach Boys record, started up, Ashley took my hand and led me back out. I was still trying to get used to this sudden popularity, but I was willing to ride the ride as long as the wheel went round. Ashley was gyrating around, moving her hips while keeping her feet nearly still, and I smiled to myself as I danced with her. She was such a quiet, shy girl, it was odd to think that she was actually swinging her hips to and fro like this, in public and everything. By the time we made it off the dance floor and back to the group, I was breathing hard. Dancing with these girls was hard work. Fortunately, a slow song came on, and I was just breathing a mental sigh of relief when Kristina beat Ashley to me, reaching for my hand and wordlessly leading me back out to the dance floor. She flowed into my arms effortlessly, and seemed to mold herself to me, resting her head on my shoulder as we box-stepped around the floor. I was sorry when the song ended, and Kristina slipped away from me and led me back, still holding my sweaty hand. The next fast set began, and Ashley pulled me back out for another dance. When that one was done, Josh's girlfriend Andrea came my way as Becky took Josh out. I pleaded exhaustion, so she took Jorge out to boogie. I watched all the kids grooving and jiving out on the floor. Out in the middle of the crowd, I could see Molly dancing and shimmying with Trent. I looked around, and saw Scotty leaning against the wall, looking sourly out toward Molly and Trent. He looked very unhappy. Welcome to the club, I thought. I raised my paper cup to him in a mock salute, but he wasn't paying any attention to me. Just as well, probably. My eyes kept on dragging back to Ashley and to Kristina. There was quite a contrast between the two, but they were both very attractive girls. Ashley was swaying back and forth with Toby, who had his hands on her hips as they danced together. They looked good together, I thought. I glanced over at Kristina, who was gliding around Jake, her lithe body moving with all the grace of a leopard. As I watched, she glanced over at me. Our eyes met, nearly stopping my heart, until she dropped her gaze, moving around Jake in a sinuous move to the music. Becky grabbed me for another fast song. Strands of her hair were getting matted with sweat as she swung her head back and forth to the beat. I led her more toward the middle of the floor, thinking I might catch a glimpse of Molly dancing with someone, but I didn't find her. The song ended, and almost immediately another slow song came on. This time, Kristina didn't even wait for us to get off the dance floor. She met Becky and I at the edge, and Becks wordlessly stepped aside, in what almost felt like an unspoken agreement, letting Kristina slip her hand in mine and guide me back out. This time I put both arms around her waist and held her to me. As she lay her head on my shoulder, I felt her take a deep breath, and pull me even tighter to her. The feel of her body against mine triggered some rather dirty thoughts in me, creating an unfortunate blood flow into an appendage that I didn't want awakened in this situation. It was too late to stem the tide, however, so I did the best I could under the situation by slowly sticking my butt out so that my swollen prick wouldn't be noticed by the girl in my arms. I was certain she would be upset if she knew the reaction she was creating. After all, she was a quiet girl from a large, close-knit family, and the last thing I wanted was to insult her or her brother by rubbing my private parts against her during a simple dance. Just when I thought my strategy was working, though, Kristina moved somehow, and I found myself pressing against her flat tummy with my boner. I scrunched my pelvis away from her again, but she took a natural step in our dance and ended up close to me again, my now completely hard and painful cock standing up between us again. Once more I sidestepped to remove the pressure, and a moment later she stepped into me again. This time I could have sworn I felt her hips shift ever so slightly as her tummy rubbed against me, creating just a hint of friction between us. I resigned myself to my fate and did not try to move away again, but attempted to minimize the rubbing and stimulating for the rest of the dance, hoping against hope that it would deflate by the time we walked back to our group. In an effort to buy some time, I maneuvered us into the middle of the dance floor, so that when the song ended, we would have a little extra time in the crowd before my condition might be revealed. My strategy worked. The song ended, and we were right in the middle of everybody. Without letting go of me, Kristina looked up into my eyes wordlessly. I could have sworn she was waiting for me to kiss her, but that couldn't be. Could it? A fraction before the hesitation turned into embarrassment, she turned, releasing me from her arms, and slowly made her way back toward our side of the gym. She held her hand behind her and wiggled her fingers at me, confident enough not to turn around to see if I was following her. I took the hint and held her hand as we walked, and she didn't let go until we were back within the circle of our friends. Jorge looked at me silently. I shrugged at him, at which he rolled his eyes, as if to tell me that I was the densest fool he knew, and turned away to say something to Jake. Ashley said she wanted to go find Theo and roll him around the dance floor, and took off to look for him. I heard the opening samba beat of Santana's "Oye Como Va" start up, and Jorge leaped up, grabbing Kristina by the arm, and the two of them practically ran out to the dance floor to do some cutting to the strong Latin beat. And dance they did. I didn't know Jorge had those kind of moves in him, but he was absolutely sensational out there, putting on a real show for everybody. All the boys' eyes, however, were on his sister. She was swaying and pouting, dipping and twirling, stalking and stretching like a cat and practically purring with pleasure all during the dance. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before, and I was enthralled. In fact, most of the other dancers out there stopped to watch in appreciation, marveling at the two Mendozas showing 'em how. As Kristina and Jorge flowed together across the floor, I had the distinct impression that, even though Kristina was concentrating on dancing with her brother, her focus was toward me. There was nothing she was doing that I could say with any certainty was aimed at me, but I still had the feeling that she knew exactly where I was all the time, and her sudden exhibitionistic fervor was for my benefit. Whether it was a conscious effort on her part or not, it had a definite effect on me. I could not tear my eyes from the dance, nor did I want to stop watching. And when the final notes of the song echoed into the gymnasium, the two of them stood there in a pose, oriented toward each other, arms upraised, still as statues while their schoolmates, having seen a side of them that had been unknown up until just that moment, broke into applause and cheering for the display. The sudden barrage of cheering and clapping seemed to snap them out of their trance, and they looked around them, somewhat embarrassed over the attention they were getting. Panting and sweating from their exertions, they dropped their arms, turned and smiled at each other, and then walked back toward the group of us. We were standing there, mouths agape in awe, having just witnessed a true transformation among kids we all thought we knew pretty well. Everything after that was denouement, since the music stopped a couple of songs later. We all gathered our coats and headed for the door and the restaurant, laughing and teasing each other easily. Ashley rejoined us by the door, having spun Theo around for one song and standing by him while they watched The Flying Mendozas, and we all piled into a couple of cars and headed out. When the evening finally ended, after an hour of ice cream and pop and cake and coffee, our rides were showing up to pick us up. Mr. Mendoza drove up to take Jorge and Kristina home, just as my brother Michael rolled up to take me and Jake home. Just before she ducked into the car, Kristina took my arm and pulled her lips up to my ear. "Please call me, Sean. Please," she whispered. Without another word, she ducked into the car and pulled the door shut behind her. I knew saying those words cost her a lot. I promised myself that I would do my best to not disappoint her. And I did remember. It was late the next day, Sunday, that I finally got up the nerve to call her house. Jorge answered the phone. "It's about damn time, Porter," he admonished me. "What are you talking about, Jorge?" "She asked you to call, man. No, she din' tell me, but I know her well enough. She did ask you, right?" "Yeah, she did, and..." "And nothin', man. She been on pins an needles all day, waitin'. I knew she was nervous about somethin', and I finally figured it out. If you wasn' gonna call soon, I was gonna come over there an' kick your ass, man." "What the hell are you talking about?" "Kristina, man, what choo think? You know how hard it was for her to grovel like that, asking you to call? You better do the right thing wit' her, man." He sounded as serious now as he did when he was sitting on top of Del Toro that day in the hallway. "Just get her, will you? And don't worry, man," I tried to assure him. "Of course I'll do the right thing." "I know you will, Sean. I just wanted you to know how much this means to her, thass all." He set the telephone down and went to get his sister. A quiet voice. "Hello?" "Hi," I said. Then, as an afterthought, I decided I had better introduce myself, since she probably didn't recognize my voice over the telephone. "It's Sean." She giggled. "Of course it's you," she said. I could hear the smile in her voice, and it made me smile, too. We talked about nothing for about twenty minutes, until I could hear a heavy voice rumbling in the background. "I've got to go, Sean," she said softly. "Thank you for calling." "Uh, wait a minute, Kristina," I said hurriedly. "Do you...I mean, would you...uh...maybe we could...what I mean is..." Boy, was my tongue ever getting tangled now. Where did I suddenly get this attack of nerves? I took a deep breath and started all over. "What I mean is, would you like to do something next weekend with me?" I finally finished. "Sure," she replied quietly. "What would you like to do?" "Well, maybe we could go to a movie or something." "Okay," she said. "I'll ask my parents and let you know tomorrow at school. Is that all right?" "Uh, sure, that's fine," I said dumbly. "See you tomorrow, then." "Goodnight, Sean. Thank you for calling." She hung up the phone, leaving me standing there stupidly, a dead line humming in my ear, resonating in a sonic harmony with the memory of the sweetness of her voice. (Continued in Chapter 29) -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+