Message-ID: <38799asstr$1034737803@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <revcottonmather@hotmail.com> From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <revcottonmather@hotmail.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 X-Original-Message-ID: <F156DgC81TbdkSmLAzt0000000f@hotmail.com> X-OriginalArrivalTime: 15 Oct 2002 23:47:56.0725 (UTC) FILETIME=[49417E50:01C274A5] X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Tue, 15 Oct 2002 18:47:56 -0500 Subject: {ASSM} NEW Playing the Game II: Playing to Win Ch. 4 (mf rom) Date: Tue, 15 Oct 2002 23:10:03 -0400 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/Year2002/38799> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: hecate, kelly And the story continues. Enjoy. --------------------------------------------------------------------- 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 2002, Rev. Cotton Mather) E-Mail all comments to RevCottonMather@hotmail.com Don't be shy! I enjoy hearing from you. --------------------------------------------------------------------- PLAYING TO WIN: PLAYING THE GAME, BOOK II by Reverend Cotton Mather - 4 - TWO TELEPHONE CALLS I spent the next week or so racking my brain trying to figure out what to do. I finally decided that the direct approach was probably the best. I certainly didn't want to confront her at school, so I waited until I could get the nerve up to call her one evening. After pacing my room nervously, I finally called Molly. "Hello?" "Molly, it's Sean. Can I talk to you for a minute?" She chuckled softly, a throaty sound even over telephone wires. "I thought I'd hear from you eventually," she said. "Hey, all I want to know is if what I've heard is true," I said roughly. "Nothing more." "And what have you heard, Sean?" she asked, almost playfully. I took a deep breath. The next couple of minutes would have a very real impact on the rest of my life. "Are you pregnant, Molly?" There was a long pause. At the time, it felt like it was about an hour before she said anything, but it was probably only a few seconds. "What would you say if I told you I was, Sean? Would you be happy? Or would it upset you?" I felt like my head was going to explode. "Is it mine?" I croaked. I heard her sigh on the other end of the line. "I'm going to make your day, Sean, and maybe even give Kristina Mendoza a little gift in the process." I could hear her take a big breath before continuing. "There is no baby. I'm not pregnant. I've never been pregnant. I've been on the pill since last fall. If we hadn't broken up, I was going to tell you about it at Christmastime." She took a large, hitching breath before continuing. "Do you feel better now, Sean? Do you? I wish to Christ that I did." And she hung up. I set the telephone back down gently. A great load had just been lifted from me. I felt great! Or did I? But I was too buzzed to consider that thorny question. My first thought was to call Kristina and tell her the good news. I dialed the Mendoza home, and Jorge answered. "Jorge! I've got great news. Molly's not having my baby. I mean, she's not pregnant. I've got to let Kristina know! Is she home? Lemme talk to her, buddy." "Hold on, man, take it easy. I'll go get her. You can tell her yourself. Thass great, Sean. Hold on a minute." The handset thumped down and I could faintly hear his footsteps fading away. In just a few moments, I heard somebody pick up the phone. "Kristina? It's Sean. Guess what? I just talked to..." The deep, rumbling voice of her father interrupted me. "Kristina cannot come to the telephone," he said. "You have disappointed me greatly, Mr. Porter. Do not call here again." "Mr. Mendoza, please, I just need to..." "No mas, Senor Porter. No mas." There was no room for argument in his voice. "Yes, sir. No more," I agreed reluctantly. With that, the line went dead. My buzz departed just as swiftly as it had arrived. (Continued in Chapter 5) _________________________________________________________________ Unlimited Internet access for only $21.95/month. Try MSN! http://resourcecenter.msn.com/access/plans/2monthsfree.asp -- 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> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+