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Message-ID: <41460asstr$1048500604@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <RevCottonMather@verywarmpostalservice.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Playing the Game II: Playing to Win Ch. 40 (mf)
Date: Mon, 24 Mar 2003 05:10:04 -0500
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Sorry for the delay, friends.  I trust the wait is worthwhile.

Enjoy!




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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
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long as there is no intent to charge money or barter for the
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(Copyright 2003, Rev. Cotton Mather)

E-Mail all comments to RevCottonMather@hotmail.com
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PLAYING TO WIN:
PLAYING THE GAME, BOOK II


by Reverend Cotton Mather




- 40 -

STRONGER THAN YOU KNOW



Tara Jacks absolutely refused to consider any option other than
keeping her baby.

By Christmastime she was starting to show, and she took to wearing
baggier tops and sweatshirts.  The  spotlight on her at school was
intense, but she was far stronger than any of us knew, standing up to
the pressure with her head up, willing to meet anybody's gaze
straight on.  Whispered conversations  followed her everywhere in
school, but she acted like she didn't care at all.

It was all a lie, of course.  Jaimie told us in confidence that Tara
would come home and run up to  her room every afternoon in tears. 
Jaimie did what she could for her, comforted her the best she  could,
but Tara had a huge burden to bear, and most of the weight she
carried alone.

Mr. and Mrs. Jacks had finally come to terms with their impending
grandparenthood, and reluctantly  accepted Tara's unequivocal
decision.  After the holidays were over, they began fixing up their 
dining room for the baby, setting up a crib, a cradle, and a changing
table in place of their dining  room set, which was temporarily
relegated to the basement.

Tara had two other friends who stepped up for her, and she ended up
relying on their support more and  more as the winter wore on.  One
was Tracy Evanson, who seemed to have taken some wisdom from the 
harsh lesson that Tara was living.  Tracy sat with Tara at one of the
long tables in the cafeteria at  lunchtime, willing to be ostracized
from any of the "cooler" groups of kids by hanging out with the 
pregnant girl.  She spent as much time each weekend at the Jacks
house as her parents would allow,  too, helping Tara with homework,
providing friendship to a girl who was sorely in need.  On the 
occasional mornings that Tara was too sick to come to school, Tracy
picked up her homework  assignments for her, and made sure she got
them that afternoon.

Tara's other loyal friend was my brother, Stephen.

My parents nearly hit the roof when they found out that Stephen was
one of the suspected fathers.   They cried, they wailed, they gnashed
their teeth, they grounded him until his twenty-first birthday.  
They calmed down a little when Stephen finally told them that Tara
had already been pregnant when he  had been with her in her room at
the end of summer.  Tara had told him that she didn't think he was 
the father of her baby, but he still shouldered some of the
responsibility.  He knew his actions had  been less than honorable,
and his upbringing, despite occasional setbacks, would not let him
duck out  of what he considered to be his duty to Tara.

Michael and I acted as mediators between Stephen and our parents,
until all the angry words and  hurtful accusations were behind us,
and some meaningful discussions could take place.  Stephen  insisted
on helping Tara as much as he could, and it was eventually agreed
that he could go over to  the Jacks house, under supervision.  Tara's
parents had to be there, no exceptions.

Stephen helped Mr. Jacks repaint the dining room and set up the
crib.  He and Tara did homework  together, sitting at the kitchen
table while Mrs. Jacks or Jaimie prepared dinner, and Tracy came 
over to be with them when she could.  Stephen goofed off with Tara,
told corny jokes, and helped to  remind her that it could be fun to
be a kid.  Tara was learning one of life's harder lessons as she 
trod the path toward her own parenthood at the age of 14, but she
wasn't alone.  Her two friends, her  parents, her sister, and her
sister's friends did what they could to ease her way.

By our school's Spring Break, the last week of March, Tara had
gained nearly 30 pounds.  For a girl  who stood just a little over
five feet tall, and who probably only weighed around 100 pounds 
normally, it was a huge change.  She lumbered around, seeming to take
up even more room than her  expanded hips and tummy demanded.  Both
Jaimie and Stephen told me that Stephen would massage Tara's  feet
and calves almost every evening, trying to bring a small dose of
comfort to her complaining  muscles and joints, doing what he could
to make her feel better, physically and emotionally. 

Tara didn't return to school after our break.  By the first week of
April, she was eight months  pregnant, uncomfortable in her body and
uncomfortable enduring the continuing stares in the hallways.  
Stephen wanted to stay with her at home until she delivered, but both
sets of parents vetoed that  idea, and he reluctantly went back to
classes with the rest of us.





In the weeks after we had won our second consecutive state
championship, my teammates and I were  treated like royalty at school
and in town.  Pick Cropper called to congratulate us, and I talked to
Jesse Wilhoit several times.  He had first called when he learned of
the AHSSA All-American honors,  and we talked every couple of weeks
or so.  Jesse and his sister, Anna, came up and spent an evening 
with Kayla and me when he was home for Christmas break, and we made
plans to get together during the  summer, so he could let me know
what to expect when I got to Florida.

Jesse was going to try out for the Under-20 National Team in the
spring.  I was planning on running  my summer clinics again after I
graduated.  I knew, from the response I had gotten the previous 
summer, that I could fill three or four age groups without a problem.
Eric, Jorge, and Tessa had  already agreed to help me out, and Trent
was also planning on being home most of the summer to work  with me. 
I thought I would also be able to get a couple of other kids, both
guys and girls from the  school teams, to assist.  I was excited
about the prospect of going off to Florida to play soccer and  go to
school, but I really couldn't think in real terms beyond getting
through my senior year of high  school, and planning for the summer.

By the tail end of winter, almost all of us were looking forward to
Spring Break and not having to  think about school for over a week. 
The weather still was not very consistent, but at least we could 
spend some time outside.  Kayla and I picked up our mileage on our
runs, since the soccer season,  followed immediately by winter, had
forced us to cut down on the frequency we were able to get out.   The
weather also curtailed our distances, since we didn't feel much like
running far when it was so  cold out.

We also managed to find a couple of opportunities to make love, but
we were beginning to feel a  little inhibited with each other.  We
tried talking about it, but we were both uncomfortable even 
addressing the problem.  We each tied it, at least in our own minds,
to Tara's pregnancy, and to  Stephen's continuing involvement.

For the Junior/Senior Prom, our plans were a little disjointed.  I
had once again made reservations  for ten couples at Delmonico's in
Monticello for dinner before the dance.  Alex and Molly drove down 
with us on a double date.  When we got to the restaurant, Josh and
Andrea, along with Tiny and Erica,  were already there.  Eric and
Keisha, doubling with Anthony and Ayesha, came in right behind us.  
Austin and Tessa were driving down with Jorge and Marissa, and they
came in a few minutes later.  The  busboy was just filling our water
glasses when Toby and Ashley came in.

"Where's Jake and Jaimie?" I asked.  They were supposed to be with
Toby.

Toby shrugged.  "Jake called about a half an hour before he was
supposed to pick us up," he said.   "Something came up, said they'd
be late."

"I wonder if it has something to do with Tara," murmured Kayla.

We carried on without them, and we ordered our dinners.  There were
a couple of other prom tables  scattered through the large dining
room, so we cruised back and forth between courses, visiting with 
friends and classmates.  We got some sour looks from some of the
other patrons and families who had  chosen this unfortunate evening
to go out for a nice Italian dinner, but our mood was jovial and 
exuberant, and attitudes from fogies weren't going to bother us at
all.

After dinner, the restaurant pretty much emptied out, as all the
prom parties headed out, packing  into cars for the drive downtown to
the dance.

We got to the ballroom in the hotel fashionably late, and we joined
the rest of our schoolmates on  the dance floor.  I even managed to
coax Mrs. Neville out to shake her booty a time or two.  Coach 
absolutely refused to be persuaded, even by somebody as irresistible
as my Luscious, to join us.   Personally, I didn't see how he could
refuse the prettiest girl in school, but he managed, contenting 
himself to watching his wife and me gyrate to the music.

In the middle of dancing to Billy Idol's "Hot in the City", there
was a small commotion as a big body  came swarming through the
dancers.  Kayla and I stopped and watched as Jake, pulling Jaimie
along by  the hand, came bullying his way through the crowd.  He
stuck out his hand, clutching a bunch of  chocolate cigars.

"Congratulations, Porter!  We're uncles!"

"What?"  I asked.

Jaimie was practically jumping up and down.  She was so excited, she
was nearly bouncing out of her  low-cut dress.  "Tara had her baby!"
she cried.  "It's a boy!"

Kayla squealed, and leapt up into Jaimie's arms.  "How wonderful!" 
They squeezed each other tightly,  sharing the news as best friends
should.  Kayla dabbed at her eyes, wiping away small tears of joy, 
once she let go of Jaimie.

"Well, maybe we're step-uncles or something," I said.

"Yeah, whatever," said Jake, obviously enjoying the moment.  He
handed cigars to Tiny and Eric, who  happened to be near us when Jake
came barging in.  "Anyway, that's why we missed dinner, because 
Jaimie's folks were taking Tara to the hospital."

"And I didn't want to miss it, even for Prom," said Jaimie.

"Right," agreed Jake.  "So there I was, half-dressed already when
Jaimie called."

"Which half was dressed?" asked Eric with a smile.

Jake grimaced.  "You probably don't want to know," he said. 
"Anyway, so I hurried, and Jaimie and I  stopped at your house on the
way, but you guys had already left, so I picked up Stephen, and he
went  with us to the hospital."

"Really?  Stephen was there, too?"  I guess the news didn't really
surprise me all that much.

Jake looked at me kind of funny.  "Of course he was," he said.

"It turns out that Tara had been in labor most of the day, but
didn't tell anybody," continued  Jaimie.  "She thought it was false
labor or something, she said.  I think she just was in a little  bit
of denial, personally."

"So by the time we got there, she was already in the delivery room
with her mother."  Jake picked up  the story.  "We were only there a
few minutes when Tara asked if Stephen could come in and be with 
her."

"Really?"  That surprised me.  I thought Stephen would be too
squeamish to want to be in there.  I  certainly would have been,
especially at his age.

"Of course she did," said Kayla, giving me a look that said I was
being dense again.

"Okay," I said doubtfully.  Why did everybody else know more about
my brother than I did?

"So we stayed there until Mom came out and made the announcement,"
continued Jaimie.  "A boy, eight  pounds ten ounces, Kyle Allen
Jacks, born at 7:39 PM on May 13, 1983."  She stopped, her eyes
bright.

"Oh my God, I'm an aunt," she whispered, almost to herself.  "My
little sister's a mom."





Much later that night, Kayla and I were in one of the quiet rooms at
the YMCA, during the all-night  post-Prom lockdown, sharing a Coke.

"You know, when we start having children, you're going to have to be
in the delivery room with me,  too," she said.  There was a glint of
humor in her eye.

"Yeah, I know," I said a little defensively.  "I was just a little
surprised about Stephen, that's  all... I mean, it's not even his
kid."

"Maybe it's not his kid," corrected Kayla.

"Okay, maybe," I conceded.  "Tara didn't think it was his."

"But Stephen thinks it is," she pointed out.  "And Tara's just not
sure.  She's willing to take the  love and support that Stephen is
offering, though."

"So maybe I really am an uncle," I said in surprise.

She smiled at me.  "Maybe you are," she agreed.

We went off in search of entertainment, and found Eric and Keisha in
the hallway, looking a little  furtive.

Eric smiled.  "Come with us," he said, motioning for us to follow
them.

He led us confidently past the locker room doors, and through
another, unmarked door.  We came to  three closed doors on our right,
and Eric reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys.  He 
smiled, and selected one key off the ring.  He looked up at us as he
slid the key into the lock.

"Good to have friends in high places," he murmured.  He gestured us
into the room, and closed the  door behind us, leaving Luscious and
me alone in one of the massage rooms.  There was a low massage  table
in the middle of the room, and a lounging couch along one wall.  A
stereo was on a shelf above  the couch, and on the other side of the
room was a locked cabinet.

I looked at Kayla.  "It's good to have friends who have friends in
high places," I said.

She smiled, and reached up and switched the stereo on.  Soft,
relaxing music came out of the speakers  mounted in the corners of
the room.

"Would you like a massage?" I asked, indicating the table.

"I don't know," she said.  "I've never had one."

"Well, then, you're in for a treat, ma'am," I said.  There was a
stack of towels on a rack next to  the cabinet.  I took one and
handed it to her.

"Here you go, miss," I said, trying to be all business.  "Kindly
remove your garments, and lie down  on the table, face down, and
cover yourself with the towel."

She smiled at me, and pulled her sleeveless shirt off over her head
as I busied myself with putting  another towel down for her on the
table.  I kept my eyes averted as she took off her jeans and 
underwear, and boosted herself up onto the table.  She put the towel
across her like a blanket.

"Are you ready, miss?" I asked.

Her voice was muffled.  There was a padded hole in the table, and
she had her face resting in it.   "Yes, but aren't you a little
overdressed?"

"Ah, the madam would like to experience our patented Naked Massage,
I see," I said in my most proper  tone.  "That can be arranged."

I stripped off my tee shirt as I wedged my shoes off.  I sat on the
couch for just a moment so I  could yank off my socks, and then I
stood and shucked off my jeans and underwear.  Kayla had her head 
turned on the table, watching me the whole time.

There was some body oil in a squeeze bottle on top of the cabinet. 
I grabbed it and squeezed a  dollop onto the palm of my hand, and
then rubbed my hands together.  I gently pulled down the towel 
covering my girl, baring her back, and ran my hands along that long
expanse of flesh, spreading the  oil across her body.

I hopped up on the table and crouched on her thighs so I could work
better.  My balls nestled against  her legs, and my cock stretched
out and rested against the towel covering her ass.  

"Mmmmmm," she hummed as I began working the oil into her skin,
applying a little more pressure,  starting to knead the muscles of
her back and shoulders.  I worked up and down along her spine, from 
her neck down the slope of her back to her waist.  I pushed the towel
down a little more, and worked  the oil into the top swells of her
buttocks, and then worked my way back up again, running my hands  up
along her sides to her shoulders, kneading the big muscles there, and
then working from her neck  back down to the valley of her lower
back.  My thumbs played along the ridges of her vertebrae,  bumping
along as my palms pressed harder along the connective tissues.

After working on her back up and down, I slid down off the table. 
Standing to the side, I started  working across her body, from her
backbone down and around her side, rolling her a little on the 
table.  I could feel the swells of her squashed breasts, and my
fingers tended to linger there,  relishing in the feel of her
marvelous body.  Once I had worked all the way down her body, from
her  shoulder blade to her waist, I stepped over to the other side of
the table and worked the right side  of her back the same way, slowly
manipulating the musculature just beneath the softer layer of skin.

Kayla was making occasional soft sounds of appreciation as I worked
on her.  As she was relaxing,  though, I was tensing up.  Just
looking at her flawless, pale skin, knowing she was naked under that 
one small towel, was enough to get me hard.  Added to that were her
soft moans, and my temperature  was rising.

As I worked across her back, I also worked from her shoulders down
her body.  My hands reveled in the  soft feel of her along the small
of her back and across her tiny waist, and I kept on moving down.  I 
slid my hands beneath the towel and kneaded the globes of her ass,
from her crack to her hip, still  rolling her body slightly as I
worked.  Finally, I threw the towel down to the floor, leaving her 
naked and beautiful on the table, and I worked on her thighs,
kneading and manipulating her flesh,  and occasionally allowing my
thumbs to delve between her legs just a little as she parted her legs
for me.  I was gratified to feel moisture there, and though the
temptation to abandon my massage in  favor of more carnal pleasures
was great, I steeled myself to continue what I had started with her.

I worked on her legs from her butt to her ankles, refilling my palms
with the body oil as I went.  I  massaged her feet, paying special
attention to her arches and her cute little toes.  When I was done 
with both feet, I picked up the towel and draped it over her calves
and feet for warmth.

I moved up to the front of the table, and started again on her
shoulders.  I hadn't heard a peep from  her in several minutes, and I
thought that perhaps she had fallen asleep.  As I leaned over her to 
massage her shoulders and neck, I felt her hand reach up and touch my
thigh.  I ran my hands through  her hair, giving her a scalp massage,
and her hand slid up my leg to my balls.  She hefted the  weight, and
then moved her hand up further to grasp the base of my hard cock.  My
hips involuntarily  hunched forward into her hand, and she tugged on
me a little, making me crouch so that I could flex  my hips.  She was
able to pull my cock over to the hole in the table, and was just able
to lick the  head of my steel-hard dick as I continued to use my
fingertips against her temples and her ears.

I stopped to enjoy the sensation of her tongue on my cock.  She held
the base in her fist as she  treated me like I was an ice cream cone,
lapping up the bubbles of pre-cum that were oozing from me.   My
mission of imparting a nice, relaxing massage was all but forgotten
in the wake of her active  tongue and hand upon my rampant cock.

Eventually, I wanted more.  I wanted to give her more, and I wanted
to experience more, so I gently  extricated myself from her grip, and
moved back down to the foot of the bed.  She turned her head to 
watch me as I grasped her ankles, and pulled her toward me, until her
legs were dangling straight  out, off the table.  Still holding her
ankles, I spread her legs, and bent down, resting my elbows on  the
table.  I lowered my head down and licked slowly, lovingly along her
drooling pussy, eliciting a  moan from her.

She allowed her legs to spread even more, opening herself up to me,
and I concentrated on using my  lips and tongue to lap up all the
lubrication I could find, dragging the tip of my tongue through her 
folds and into the well of her oils.  I stuck my tongue as deeply
into her hole as I could, and ran  it along her sensitive tissues,
working it under her to diddle with her hooded clit, and then delving
through her engorged outer lips, to circle her flooded opening again.
I licked and spread moisture  up her soft and trembling ass.  I found
her little rosebud of an asshole, and paid attention to it, 
moistening her tender skin, reveling in the tangy taste of her.

She folded her left arm up underneath her and was clutching at her
swollen breast, and she brought  her knees back up onto the table so
that she could lift up her butt, giving me greater access to her 
pussy.  I took advantage, and worshiped her the best I could, using
my lips, my tongue, my fingers,  and my thumb to pleasure her.  I
could feel her muscles quivering as she climbed closer to the 
precipice, and I nibbled at her clit with my lips as I stuck two
fingers into her vaginal opening,  and finger-fucked her to her first
orgasm.

Her breath came in hitches as she was carried over the cliff wall,
and she had trouble holding  herself up in that same position.  As
her emotions carried her away, her body took over, and the 
electrical pulses firing within her hit the proper sequences, and a
tiny flood of extra lubricant was  exuded by her pussy walls, and my
tongue was there to receive it.

In the meantime, my own body was receiving the stimuli that were as
old as mankind, the pheromones  entering my system through my taste
buds, through my nose, and through my fingertips, directly into  my
bloodstream.  My cock twitched in anticipation of feeling firsthand
the heat and moisture she was  letting loose, so I lifted up, and
pulled her off the table a little more, until she was bent at the 
waist, her torso still resting on the table, and her feet were firmly
on the floor.  I stepped up  behind her and grasped my straining
cock.  I aimed it directly at her middle, rubbing the head  against
her pussy lips to spread moisture around, and then nestling it
against her overheated  opening.

She groaned, and moved back against me just a little, and the head
of my cock popped into her.  It  was all the stimulus I needed.  I
plunged fully into her, rocking her body against the table as I 
thrust as deeply as I could.  Kayla huffed when she felt me bottom
out in her, and I started pumping  in and out of her, fucking her
hard.

She rocked back and forth on the table as I worked her, and she was
panting and breathlessly  screeching every time I felt myself hit
against her cervix.  Her walls were very tight against my  cock, and
the combination of the heat, the pressure, and the oily lubrication
coating my shaft were  having an effect on me.  I was sliding in and
out of her easily despite the tightening of her sheath,  and I could
feel the tip of my cock scraping along the sensitive tissues of her
vagina on every  thrust.

I held her by her hips as I pounded into her, pulling her back onto
my cock as I flexed to push my  sword into her scabbard.  More than
ever, I could see the narrow pinching of her waist flaring out to 
the feminine swell of her hips beneath me.  I could look down and
watch her ass as my cock moved in  and out of her, the fleshy globes
quivering each time I bottomed out in her, or I could look at her 
face contorting as she concentrated on the sensations firing along
her nerves like lightning bolts,  from her overstimulated pussy,
connecting through her sensitive nipples on the way to the overtaxed 
pleasure centers in her brain.  I leaned onto her for a moment, and
worked my hands beneath her body  so I could squeeze her breasts for
a moment.  She groaned as I pinched her nipples, and wiggled her  ass
on me.  I stood back up, and took her by the hips again, and thrust
into her as hard and fast as  I could.

Finally, she cried out, and pinched her own nipple hard, and her
walls involuntarily clenched down on  me, squeezing me so hard my
movement was constricted.  Her orgasm hit her, and her pussy
contracted  even more.  Her extra lubrication coated my shaft, and I
pressed against her, wanting to be as deep  inside her as I could
possibly be when I shot off.  My cock expanded against her
contractions, and  the hydraulics kicked into action.  I felt my
balls tighten, and I spurted into her hard, the  intensity of my
orgasm turning me practically inside out.  I felt my rushing semen
splash against her  walls, and she must have felt it, too, because
she hunched back against me hard, trying to fuck  herself on me just
a little more, dragging out the sensations that were washing through
her.  Five  times, six, and seven times I felt my release, and
finally I collapsed down on her back, giving in to  the sensations.

We stayed that way for a time, as our breathing began to stabilize
and our pulse rates retreated out  of the red zone.  My cock lost
very little of its firmness, buried as it was within her tight and 
welcoming pussy.

At long last, she groaned.

"Porter?  Can you get off me for a minute?" she asked tiredly.

It was an effort, but I slowly pulled out of her.  Mixed fluids
seeped from her once my plug had been  removed, and I stood up as she
shimmied up to lie on the table.  I used the towel to blot up our 
combined spend, and then tossed the soiled towel into a corner of the
room.  She motioned for me to  join her, so I lay down next to her. 
She turned onto her side to make room for me, and we put our  arms
around each other and touched foreheads together.

"That was pretty incredible," she whispered, her eyes smiling.

"You liked it that way?" I asked.

She gave the question more consideration than I thought it deserved.
Of course she liked it.  She  came hard, didn't she?

"I liked it a lot," she said seriously.  "I've never felt...
fuller... than that time.  You hit  places inside me..."

I rubbed her back, and watched her marvelous breasts quiver a little
as she took a deep breath.

"How can I describe it?"  She was almost talking to herself.  "It
was great sex, but it was...  recreational.  It wasn't the same as
when we make love."  She looked up at me, a little imploringly.  
"Don't get me wrong, Sean, I really, really enjoyed it.  It was
spontaneous, and different, and...  Obviously, I liked it a lot.  I
don't think I've ever come that hard before.  But I prefer being able
to kiss you, to see your face, when we... I like the loving, the
tenderness, even more than I like  the climax..."

I hugged her to me.  "So do I, baby," I reassured her.  "So do I." 
I left it at that, and she smiled  at me, one of her patented
thousand-watt smiles, and I felt suffused with love for her.

We dozed for a few minutes, and then she showed me what she meant,
by taking my recovering cock in  her hand as we lay side by side,
kissing as I gently played with her wonderful breasts.  When my cock 
returned to its full hardness, she rolled over onto her back, and
pulled me over onto her.  Her hand,  still wrapped around my rod,
guided my cock to her heated pussy.  She rubbed my head against her
wet  slit a few times to spread our moisture around, and then placed
it against her flooding hole, and let  go as I shafted into her.  She
kissed me hard, her tongue probing deep as she moaned into my mouth 
while she felt me plumb her depths, and she wrapped her legs around
me, crossing her ankles in the  small of my back.

As we made love, she broke our kiss, and looked into my eyes.  She
was smiling happily.

"See?  Isn't this nice?" she whispered.

My brain was occupied.  Being male, I couldn't be in the throes of
sex and, at the same time, make  intelligent conversation, so I just
nodded.

She giggled, making her pussy tighten against me momentarily, and
gently pulled my mouth down to her  distended nipple.  I gladly took
the proffered morsel into my mouth.  After all, I was male, and 
could handle two similar tasks such as these at once.  I paid homage
to her left breast, and then  kissed and licked my way over to her
right breast, and gave it equal attention.  When I felt my  impending
climax, I used my hand to pinch her left nipple, and at the same
time, I bit down lightly  on her right.  The additional stimuli set
her off, and we humped at each other hard, both rushing  toward our
finish lines.

I felt my cock expand against her constricting walls, and at the
same time, she cried out softly.   Additional heat and moisture
coated my invading cock as we both came, my cock spilling my seed
deep  inside her for the second time, as her own orgasm took her by
storm.

I lifted up my weary head and kissed her softly, and she held me to
her by the back of my neck as she  gently returned my affectionate
kiss.  Her legs dropped to the table, and I pulled my shrinking cock 
from her.  She didn't want to let me go, however, for when I shifted,
intending to lay beside her  again and get my weight off her, she
moaned, shook her head, put her arms tight around me, and put  her
feet around my calves to keep me in place.

"I'm afraid I'm going to crush you," I whispered.

She held me to her.  "He ain't heavy, he's my lover," she said
quietly.  I could hear the smile in  her voice.

"And besides, she's strong," I said.

"That's right," she agreed.  "Stronger than you know."

Of course, we had no idea at the time, but that strength would be
tested.





(Continued in Chapter 41)

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