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From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <RevCottonMather@verywarmpostalservice.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} -RP- Playing the Game, Ch. 21-25 by Rev. Cotton Mather
Date: Tue,  8 Apr 2003 06:10:04 -0400
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Just a little something for those of you who have not yet met my good
friend Sean Porter...



---------------------------------------------------------------------

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@hotmail.com
Don't be shy!  I enjoy hearing from you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------




PLAYING THE GAME
by Reverend Cotton Mather




- 21 -

THE LONGEST DAY OF SCHOOL EVER



On Monday morning, the teams assembled in the gymnasium before
school.  Coach Neville stood in front of us, looking tired and worn.

"You know, of course, what has happened," he began.  "I do have more
information now, and the news is not good.  As many of you know, the
accident was a hit-and-run.  The police have now found the car that
pushed Theo's car off the road and into the tree.  Unfortunately, it
belongs to another student here at the high school, Richard Del Toro."

That set up quite a buzzing in the room.

"Apparently, he and three of his friends were out joyriding, and for
some reason they ran Theo and Skip off the road.  Richard has been
arrested and his car impounded, and they're still looking for Harold
Barnes and Vincent Arilio, two of the boys who were in the car with
him.  The fourth young man, Joey Amonte, is also being held in jail
on pending charges."

Harold, Joey and Vinnie were all members of Del Toro's Bulls.  I
turned to Jorge, sitting next to me, and whispered that they had all
been part of the group that had been hassling he and his sister that
day.  He just nodded.

"Quiet, now," said Mr. Neville.  "Dr. Osgood, our principal, will
make an announcement during first period about the accident.  He will
also announce that school will be closed tomorrow in deference to
Skip and his family, so that his friends and teammates can attend his
funeral.  I will expect to see you all there.  As for the team,
obviously we have some reorganizing to do, which the coaching staff
will be working on today.  In the meantime, I've got these to hand
out."

He reached down and pulled out a box from underneath the table and
opened it up.  He pulled out black armbands and started handing them
out.

"As a show of team solidarity, I would like you all to wear these
today.  This is a very difficult time for all of us, gentlemen.  In
light of the events of the weekend, I think we should consider
dedicating the balance of this season to Skip and Theo."

There was a murmur of assent from all of us.  Nobody on the team
even considered disagreeing with the sentiment.  Coach Neville asked
for a show of hands, and it was a unanimous decision that we would
play the rest of our games for our two fallen players.

"Thank you, gentlemen," said Coach.  "I'll see you after school for
a short practice session."

We all slipped the armbands over our sleeves, and the team quietly
shuffled out of the gym to their first period classes.

"Mr. Porter, Mr. Johnson, could I see you two for a moment?"  Coach
tapped me on the shoulder, and caught Eric by the sleeve as we were
about to leave.

"Sure, Coach.  What's up?" Eric asked after everybody else had left.

Mr. Neville took off his glasses and started absent-mindedly wiping
the lenses on his tie.

"Despite the circumstances," he began, "I've still got to think
about the team and how to salvage this season.  I've lost my top two
players, and I have to make some fast changes."  He paused to collect
his thoughts, and put his glasses back on.  He looked hard at Eric
and me.

"You two have been in my thoughts lately.  Eric, your speed on the
field is exceptional, and we're going to need speed.  But your ball
handling could use some help.  I would like you to work before school
with a friend of mine, if you're willing.  He might be able to jump-
start your skills in a short amount of time."

Eric didn't look too happy about the prospect of getting to school
early just to learn how to juggle a soccer ball better, but he wisely
kept his mouth shut for the moment.

"In return," continued Coach, "I will be willing to offer you a
starting position in the offense, to replace Theo.  But," he added,
before Eric could answer, "the one depends on the other.  If you
aren't willing to improve your soccer skills, you won't get the
starting nod.  Think about it for a moment," he said, and turned to
me.

"Sean, Skip and I have been grooming you to take his position after
this season.  Unfortunately, circumstances have forced me to throw
you into the fire.  I need you before I think you're ready.  Can you
play the right defensive spot, knowing you're going to be trying to
fill some big shoes?"

I didn't have to think twice about it.  "Yes, sir.  I'll do my best."

"I know you will, Sean.  I just wish you weren't playing under these
conditions."  He nodded, as if making up his mind about something.

He walked us both to the door of the gym just as the first bell of
the day started ringing.

"I'll see you both after school for practice," he said.  He put an
arm around each of our shoulders, as if he was trying to protect us
from the ravages of the real world.  In retrospect, I guess that's
exactly what he was trying to do, in his way.

"Eric, let me know what you want to do by the start of practice
today, please.  Your decision affects what I will have to do on the
whole left side of our team," he said as he opened the door for us.

"I don't need to wait, Coach.  I'll be here tomorrow morning to work
on my game.  You can count on me."  Eric had that same determined
look on his face I had seen during our last club game a month ago. 
It now felt like a lifetime ago.

"Okay, good.  Then I will let the rest of the team know about our
realignment this afternoon.  Thanks, boys.  I knew I could rely on
both of you.  Just remember this.  Play the game according to the
rules, but play your own game.  Both things are possible."

He patted us both on the shoulder, then gently pushed us out into
the hall and on our way to our first classes of the day.

As I walked down the crowded halls toward my first period class, it
was eerily quiet.  Everyone was closed in on their own thoughts, and
those few clusters of kids who were gathered together were talking in
hushed tones, as if any undue noise would awaken the sleeping
monsters.  I got to my classroom just as the final bell rang and sat
down at my desk next to Jake, who just nodded to me in greeting,
sympathetic to the mood of everyone around him.

The intercom speaker in the corner of the room crackled as the last
dying reverberations of the bell were fading, and Dr. Osgood's voice
came over the intercom.

"May I have your attention please."  He paused as usual, probably to
wait for the hubbub in the classrooms to die down.  Today that wasn't
necessary.  "As you are no doubt aware, a tragedy has visited us this
weekend.  Senior class members Charles 'Skip' Horvath and Theodore
Jameson were involved in a traffic accident on Saturday evening. 
Theo Jameson is in the hospital in serious condition, but is
improving.  Sadly, Skip Horvath was pronounced dead on arrival.  I
have spoken to both families, and have extended the school's
sympathies and best wishes.

"I have arranged to have grief counselors available all day in the
nurse's office.  Any student who feels the need to talk to a
counselor may do so at any time.  Teachers have been instructed to
write hall passes to any student who wishes to speak to a counselor
during their classes.

"Our school will be closed all day tomorrow so that students and
faculty can attend Skip Horvath's funeral.  Information concerning
visitation hours and time and location of the services for Skip will
be available by the fifth period, and may be picked up in any
classroom.  School will resume as scheduled on Wednesday morning.

"I am truly sorry I had to interrupt your classes this morning with
such terrible news.  Thank you for your attention."

For the first time I could recall, there was complete silence both
during and after Dr. Osgood's announcement.  Usually, announcements
concerned only a small group of students or teachers, and everybody
else took the opportunity to visit with friends sitting nearby, but
today's broadcast was different.  The silence was so out of place, a
few kids were looking around bewilderedly, as if they were trying to
figure out what was wrong.

All day long, each class was the same.  Teachers set aside their
lesson plans for the day and tried to get their classes to talk about
the accident.  Richie Del Toro's involvement was well-known by
lunchtime, and none of his Bulls were in attendance that day,
probably a good idea from a self-preservation standpoint.

By the end of the school day, everybody I saw looked the same way I
felt.  Ground down until there was nothing left, was how Josh put it.
Even Toby Mueller, the school's practical joker, was subdued and
distracted.

At soccer practice after school, Mr. Neville made no mention of his
lineup changes, in deference to the mood of the team.  We sat around
the locker room while he talked to us, individually and as a group,
and he led us in an informal prayer before taking us out to the
field.  We ran a couple of laps, then did some desultory shooting
drills just to stay loose and warm.  Finally, after what seemed like
about five hours, Coach blew his whistle to signal the end of
practice.  He gathered us all together and asked us to meet as a team
at the church before the service, so we could all sit together.

By the time I got home and sat down to a dinner I didn't want to
eat, I felt like I had just lived through the longest day of school
ever.



(Continued in Chapter 22)




---------------------------------------------------------------------

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@hotmail.com
Don't be shy!  I enjoy hearing from you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------




PLAYING THE GAME
by Reverend Cotton Mather



- 22 -

AFFIRMATION OF LIFE


Skip's funeral was scheduled for 11:00 on Tuesday morning.  My
brother Mike, who was living at home while he was attending our local
junior college as a freshman, took the day off from his classes to
attend the services, since he knew a lot of the seniors.  He drove me
to the church, and we got there a few minutes early so I could meet
up with the team.

Coach Neville was gathering everybody just outside, and I walked
over to join my teammates.  I saw Molly, Heather and Evan go into the
church with a large group of seniors, and I gave her a quick, small
wave.

"Is everybody here?" asked Coach.  "Okay, good.  Kevin, John, and
Sean, I have a request."

He looked for the three of us.  Kevin Soranno was the senior
midfielder who played directly in front of Skip on the field, and
John Pennington was our starting keeper, also a senior.

"The Horvath family has requested that you three teammates serve as
pallbearers today.  Unless you have a strenuous objection, I have
accepted already on your behalf."  Coach looked from one to the other
of us, receiving each assent in turn.  I was surprised and humbled to
be included in this group.  "All right, good.  Someone will signal
you when it is time for you to perform your duties.  Shall we go in,
gentlemen?"

With that, he led us all in to the sanctuary for the beginning of
the service.

The next couple of hours were some of the saddest I have ever
experienced.  Skip's family was nearly inconsolable, and Maggie
Wiggins, Skip's girlfriend, was a wreck.  Most of the girls, and many
of the boys, were sniffling and blowing their noses all during the
service.  Suddenly we were not nearly so invulnerable as we were just
a few days ago.

Toward the end of the church service, a representative from the
funeral home quietly motioned the pallbearers forward, and the three
of us, along with Dr. Osgood and two of Skip's cousins, took our
positions by the closed casket.  At a signal from the funeral
director, we grasped the shiny brass handles and wheeled Skip slowly
down the center aisle of the church.  When we reached the front
steps, we were instructed to lift the casket up and carry it down the
steps to the hearse.

I have never lifted anything quite so heavy as that casket and its
contents.  Later, at the cemetery, we lifted the casket back out of
the hearse and onto a wheeled cart, and it was not nearly so heavy. 
That first experience with such a burden was very surprising, and
startlingly difficult.

After the brief graveside service, the funeral director announced
that the family had reserved a banquet hall in town for the
afternoon, and invited everyone to join them in a celebration of
Skip's life.  Lots of kids from school, and many of the faculty I saw
there, were opting not to attend the luncheon, but the entire soccer
team was planning on going.  Michael agreed to drop me off at the
banquet hall, and I said I would call him if I needed a ride home.

The mood at the banquet hall was noticeably lighter.  It was crowded
with Skip's extended family, with family friends and co-workers of
his parents, and with the kids and teachers from school who were
closest to Skip.  There was a large buffet set up against one wall,
and there were lots of tables to seat from 4 to 12 people.  Coach
Neville commandeered a couple of large tables for the team, and there
was plenty of room for everybody.

We all got in line for the buffet.  Skip's family had set up
bulletin boards on tripods by the first table of salads, and had
pinned pictures of Skip, baby pictures and more recent ones all
jumbled up, for people to look at while they were in line.  We
recognized a lot of us in the pictures, and spent a good deal of time
chatting with friends, pointing out pictures, and remembering good
times that had been recorded by somebody's camera.  Molly came over
to be with me in the line, and we grabbed plates as we got up to the
first table.  We made our way through the salad and bread table, to
the entrees and vegetables, filling our plates.  There was a dessert
table also set up, with separate plates, so we opted to go back to
sample the desserts later.  We carried our plates over to one of the
team tables and sat down next to Eric and Keisha, Jorge and Kristina,
and some of the other players.

The banquet hall had been reserved for the afternoon and evening,
and since there was no real hurry to leave, we didn't.  After
everyone had eaten their fill, Coach Neville called an impromptu team
meeting, inviting anybody in the room to sit in if they wished. 
Skip's parents were in a corner with consoling relatives, but his
sister Ashley, a freshman at school and a good soccer player in her
own right, sat in with us, looking for a comfortable place to feel
like she belonged.  Kevin and John scooted over and made room for her
between them, and she pulled her chair in close to listen in on the
meeting.

"Can I have everybody's attention, please," called Coach Neville. 
He waited a moment for the tables around him to quiet down.  "Thank
you.  Okay, as you know, we have dedicated the rest of this season to
Skip and to Theo.  We still have some unfinished business, however. 
First thing, we need to elect a co-captain to serve in Skip's
absence.  I would like to suggest that we consider Mr. Pennington,
currently serving the team as defensive captain, for the position."

"So moved!" called out Kevin, sitting at the same table as John.

"Okay, I have a motion.  Do I have a second?" asked Coach.

There was a general shout of "Seconded!" from the whole team, and
John Pennington was elected Team Co-Captain.

"All right, next on the agenda is our new lineup.  Trent," he said,
turning to Trent Abbott, a junior who started as our left midfielder,
"I would like you to start in Theo's forward spot."  Trent nodded,
pleased to be moving into more of a scorer's position.  "Starting in
Trent's midfield position will be Mr. Eric Johnson."

The team's collective eyes turned to our table and to Eric, who
seemed to be blushing under his dark skin.  Keisha was smiling
broadly, patting him on the back.  There was a smattering of
congratulations from all around toward him, and then everybody
quieted down.  There was still one position, Skip's, to be covered.

"Starting at the right defensive position," announced Coach, "will
be Sean Porter."

There was a smattering of applause, mostly led by Eric and Molly,
and I felt a lot of hands patting me on the back and shoulder.  The
announcement was not a real big surprise to anybody on the team, but
it kind of cemented the fact that we didn't have Skip to rely on in
the backfield anymore.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please," called out Coach one more time.  The
shuffling of chairs and the clatter of glasses and cups stopped once
again.  "I would like to remind you all that we still have half our
regular season to go.  And, if we are very fortunate, we will advance
into the sectionals and the playoffs.  We have a lot of hard work
ahead of us, and there will be a lot of adjustments in our game that
we will need to work hard on, but I know that you all will pull
together to make this team work."  He lifted his glass of water and
held it out in front of him.  "To Skip, and to Theo."

We all raised our water glasses.

"To Skip.  To Theo."  We all took a sip and sealed our bargain.

Coach Neville closed our team meeting, put on his coat, and stopped
by to pay his respects to the Horvath family before leaving.  A few
others left, but a lot of Skip's friends decided to stay, taking
advantage of a homework-free, practice-free day.

A little later, small triangles of sandwiches, snacks, and cookies
were brought out and set up on the buffet tables for those of us who
had stayed.  There was a small garden area out the back of the
banquet hall, with a gazebo tucked in a corner, half hidden from the
sliding doors of the patio area.  Molly and I grabbed a plateful of
food and slipped through the door to watch the sun go down from the
patio.  We brought out our jackets, since it cooled off quite a bit
as soon as the sun started getting low in the afternoon sky.

As we were sitting at one of the garden tables on the patio, I
thought I heard voices coming from the area of the gazebo, though in
the gloom I couldn't see anyone back there.  I got up and tiptoed
down toward the back, trying to be quiet and careful in the dark.

As I got closer, the sounds separated into two voices.  Eric and
Keisha were sitting on a bench inside the gazebo, away from the glare
of the lights from the patio door.  They had their arms wrapped
around each other as they talked softly, their hands busy moving
under their unbuttoned coats.  I ducked back behind a tree and made
my way back to the patio, where Molly was waiting.  I put my finger
to my lips and motioned for her to follow me.

"What?" she said a little impatiently.

"Shhhh!" I whispered.  I motioned for her to follow me down toward
the gazebo.  She sighed dramatically, but came down behind me, back
to behind the tree.  As we got closer, we could hear the tiny
movements betraying the couple.  I exaggeratedly tiptoed forward, so
Molly would get the idea to be very quiet, and pointed toward the
dark area where Eric and Keisha could just be seen.  Molly placed her
hands on my shoulder and peered around me as I crouched down.

There was no talking going on now.  Eric had Keisha wrapped up and
pulled to him, his arms inside her coat.  They were engaged in a
hard, open-mouthed kiss.  From the movement of their mouths and
cheeks, it was plain that their tongues were fully engaged with each
other.

Eric pulled her over more, and Keisha knelt with one knee on the
bench, and the other between Eric's legs.  She scrunched down on him
without breaking the contact of their kiss, until her crotch was
pressing firmly on his thigh.  I saw Eric's hands slide down out of
the bottom of Keisha's coat to grab a round globe of her butt in each
palm.  He squeezed her cheeks and pulled her forward and back, with
her help, creating friction along her pussy against his leg.  She
humped his leg in rhythm with Eric's clenching of her ass, until she
could take no more.  She lifted her mouth off of Eric's and arched
her back in pleasure, throwing her head back and moaning.  Eric
reached down and lightly bit the tip of her breast as she was arched
back, causing her to hump even harder on his leg.  Finally, I heard a
breathy moan escape from her, and she held herself against him
tightly, her hips rubbing back and forth just a fraction to prolong
the pleasure she was generating from her middle.  She held his head
to her throat, eyes closed, as she slid down from her sexual high. 
Finally, she collapsed against him, resting with her head on his
shoulder.  Eric whispered something, and I heard a low, throaty
giggle come from Keisha.

Molly and I backed out of view silently, back to behind the tree. 
We stayed off to the side of the garden area, out of sight of the
gazebo.  Molly held my arm close to her as we huddled together in the
cold.

"Wow," she whispered.  "That was really something."

"Yeah," I answered quietly.  "They were really getting into it."

"That's kind of taking a chance on getting caught, though," she said.

"Maybe it adds to the thrill," I suggested.

She looked at me for a moment.  In the dim light, I couldn't read
the expression on her face.

Just then, we heard Eric and Keisha walking back toward the banquet
hall, arm in arm, talking quietly to each other.  Just before they
slid the door back and stepped through, I heard Keisha's tinkling
laughter as Eric teased her about something.

A moment later, Molly was dragging me by the arm toward the gazebo.

"Come on," she whispered.  "It's our turn."

Those words were enough to get my blood racing, and I stumbled after
her, suddenly aware of a tightness in my dress pants.  She dragged me
by the hand up the three steps into the gazebo, and into the corner
so recently occupied by our friends.  She pushed me down onto the
bench and sat on my lap, grabbing the sides of my head and pulling
herself down to kiss me.  Her mouth immediately opened, her tongue
darting out to challenge and joust, and she wrapped her arms around
my neck.

Our tongues and lips did battle for a time, reveling in the
simulation of another act in a warm and wet environment.  Molly
reached down and fumbled with my belt, suddenly in a hurry.  She
practically ripped the snap off my pants in her eagerness to get to
what lay inside, grasping the corners and yanking them apart to lower
the zipper.  Her hand was cold as it reached into my underwear to
pull out her treasure.  She pumped on me a few times, just to make
sure I was awake and paying attention, and then she let go
momentarily to reach up beneath her skirt to pull her panties to the
side.

She was more than ready.  She knelt over me and settled her skirt
around us, hiding the actions of her hands as one hand grasped my
stalk and the other kept the crotch of her panties out of the way. 
She crouched down, settling the tip of my rigid pole against her open
lips, and let her weight carry her down and onto my cock.  In an
action reminiscent of Eric's, I slid my hands under her skirt to
grasp her straining buttocks, lifting her up and down upon me.  Her
hands were on my shoulders, riding along with her rising and falling.
I longed to taste of the reddened tips of her breasts, but it was not
to be on this  occasion, so I concentrated, instead, on trying to
angle myself just right so that her pleasure points were properly
stimulated.

The elastic of my underwear was chafing and binding around my balls,
which helped to stave off my release.  Molly, on the other hand, must
have been energized by the sight of Eric and Keisha, for it didn't
take her long before she started panting and moaning, straining
toward her orgasm.  She bounced down on me, hard, three or four
times, then ground down so that her engorged clit was mashed against
the base of my cock.  That was enough to send her over the edge.  She
cried out softly into the night, the steam from her breath warming my
face.  I could feel the increased flow of lubrication from her
seeping down around my rock-hard cock, still imbedded in her, keeping
her passageway slick and warm for me.

After she had recovered a bit, I started moving her again.  Slowly
at first, just slightly up and then back down again, on each pumping
of the piston stroking just a little longer, until she rediscovered
the rhythm and began to adjust herself so that she was using all of
her to stimulate all of me.  Up, until just the tip was still
imbedded in her, then down, until I was fully encased in her sheath. 
Each time I was completely inside her, she would sit for a split
second, and then twist in my lap before ascending once again.  It
only took a dozen or so of these strokes and twists before my own
climax was impending.  It was I, now, who was panting and staring at
nothing, concentrating instead on the intense pleasures being
generated by our joining.

"M...M...Molly..." I managed, just as I felt the first contractions
signaling my discharge.  I lifted her up by her clenching ass, and
she popped up and off me before I could squirt off inside her.  She
crouched down in a catcher's stance and grabbed my red and swollen
cock in her hand, and bent down to take me in her mouth.  She pumped
me, still slippery with her juices, and took the helmet between her
lips, and sucked on me hard, her hand working to drain me.

I came.  I came as hard as I'd ever come in my life.  It was only
the second time she had ever taken me into her mouth, and it thrilled
me to know she was tasting me, just as I had tasted her.

She swallowed the mouthful I gave her without losing the seal around
the head of my spasming cock.  Each time I felt her tongue work my
juice to the back of her throat, each time I felt her hand jerk on
me, I contracted and pumped again in sympathy, until, finally, there
was no more to give.  When she felt me soften slightly, she stopped
her ministrations and lifted her head up off me, my overworked cock
popping softly out from between her lips.  She kissed the tip once
more, then looked up at me, her eyes shining and happy, a smile on
her lovely face.  How'd I do? she seemed to be asking, already
knowing the answer.

I reached down gently with both hands, wrapping them in the soft
curls of her reddish-blonde hair, and pulled her up to me.  I kissed
her softly, a sincere thank-you for her efforts on my behalf.

It was cold out, so we took a moment to tuck and rearrange before
settling back down on the bench, arms around each other, silent and
comfortable in the dark together.  Her head was resting on my
shoulder, and I never wanted the moment to end.

At the time I thought it was kind of weird, that we were so intense
in our lovemaking on such an occasion and in such a place.  The
advantage of time has since given me, however, a more proper sense of
the motivations behind not only our actions, but the directions we
observed Eric and Keisha traveling.

It was, of course, the affirmation of life, even in the shadow of
the certainty of death in which we had so recently walked.



(Continued in Chapter 23)



---------------------------------------------------------------------

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@hotmail.com
Don't be shy!  I enjoy hearing from you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------




PLAYING THE GAME
by Reverend Cotton Mather



- 23 -

BUSTED




The next day our teachers really made up for two lost days of school
by piling on the homework.  It was about 6:30, and I was upstairs in
my room trying to comprehend my algebra, without much success.  My
mom was in the kitchen getting dinner ready, when I heard her calling
up the stairs to me.

"Sean!"

I opened the door to my room and called out.

"Yeah?"

"Sean, I've got to run to the grocery store for a moment.  Your dad
should be home in just a few minutes, so we'll plan on eating around
7:00.  Okay?"

"Okay, Mom.  I'll just be up here studying until then."  I closed
the door and sat back down on the floor.  I was never going to
understand these formulas!

A few minutes later I heard footsteps on the stairs, but didn't
think anything of it until the door to my room opened.  I was
surprised when I looked up to see Molly standing there.  She was
still wearing her sweats from cheerleading practice, her hair tied
back in a loose ponytail.

"Hey, Mol.  What are you doing here?"

She closed the door and sat down beside me.

"I just saw your mom leaving in the car.  Isn't anybody else home?" 
she asked.

"Nope, just me.  And now you."

"Good," she growled as she jumped up and wrestled me to the floor.

"What are you doing?" I asked, taken by surprise.  I was pretty much
caught.  She had my wrists trapped beside my head, and her weight was
pressed onto her hands as they held my arms down.  I probably could
have bucked her off, but I had the feeling that would have spoiled
the fun for her.

"Oh, I just thought I'd come over and jump on you this afternoon,"
she said.  "I missed you today.  I was thinking about you last night
and all day today in class, and I got all itchy and stuff, so I
decided to come over to see if you knew how to scratch my itch."

"Mol, it's really not a good time..."  She got a dangerous gleam in
her eye when I said that, so I decided not to continue with that
train of reasoning.

"I'm going to let go of your left arm," she said.  "Don't try
anything funny.  Just reach into my jacket pocket and get your
present out."

"A present?  What for?"  Uh-oh, did I miss a special day or
something?  Now I was worried.

"For just because.  Go ahead, Sean."  She let go of my left arm.  I
slowly reached up and wiggled my hand into the pocket of her jacket. 
There was a paper bag with something in it in there.  I pulled it out.

"Here," she said, reaching for the bag.  "I'll hold the sack, you
reach in and get your present."

I reached in and pulled out a familiar box.

"Condoms!" I exclaimed.  "Molly, you are full of surprises
sometimes.  Where did you get these?"

She let go of me altogether and grabbed the box.

"I stopped at the drug store on my way here.  I knew you had to be
just about out of them, and I need to replace the ones I stole from
Josh.  So I bought them.  No big deal.  Besides, I want you to always
have one with you.  We can't afford to be caught without one when we
might need one, like last night, you know?"  She ripped open the box
and pulled out a handful of packets and stuffed them into the paper
bag.  She wadded up the top of the bag and shoved it into her jacket
pocket.  "You take the rest of these and keep them safe."

She stood up to let me get up and stash my supply.  When she saw
where I was keeping them, she laughed.

"Your sock drawer?  You, too?  Not very original, Porter."

"Hey, when I see a good idea, I'm not afraid to rip it off," I
retorted.

"Hmmmm....speaking of ripping it off," she said quietly as she moved
up behind me and put her arms around my waist.  She hooked her thumbs
in my belt and drummed her fingers lightly, setting up a sudden
throbbing in my head.

My mom's voice came floating up the stairs.  I didn't even hear her
come home, I was so distracted.

"Sean!  Dinnertime!"

"Sean!  Dinnertime!" Molly echoed softly in my ear, her fingers
keeping up their insistent drumming.

"Okay, Mom, be right down!" I shouted out.  I turned around, still
encased in her arms.  "I've got to get downstairs, Molly.  What are
you going to do?"

"Oh," she said nonchalantly, "they don't know I'm here, so I guess
I'll just stay up here in your room until you're done eating."

"Okay," I said, a little flustered.  "I'll try to hurry."

"You do that, Sean Porter," she said.  She grabbed my hand and
guided it up under her sweatshirt to her bare breast.  "You hurry
back," she said.

Now I was a complete wreck.  I stumbled to the door, dimly aware
that I was walking a little funny due to the sudden pressure of my
inflating member in my tight jeans.  What the hell was going on here?

Molly sat on the edge of my bed.  "Go on, dinner's waiting," she
said with a smile.  She made a little shooing motion with one hand.

I went out into the hall and closed the door.  I was tempted to turn
back and make sure she was really there, and not just a product of my
fevered imagination, but I didn't.  Willing my half-hard cock to
deflate, I started down the stairs to the kitchen.

Everyone was just sitting down at the table when I walked in.  Mom
had all the food out, Dad was just reaching for the platter of
vegetables, my brother Michael and my younger brother Stephen were
already digging in.  I sat down in a kind of a daze.  

"Hiya, Sean.  Studying hard?"  Stephen said innocently.  I looked
over at him, but he already had his head back down, shoveling in food
as fast as he could.  He was 12 years old, and just starting to
really grow fast.

I grabbed a piece of fried chicken and started eating it distractedly.

"Uh...will you excuse me for just a moment?"  I didn't wait for an
answer, but instead got up from the table and ran upstairs to my room
and opened the door.

No Molly.  Maybe I did imagine it.

Just as I was turning to go back downstairs, I heard a slight noise
from my closet.  I walked over and peered in.  Molly was there.  She
had taken off her sweatshirt and taken one of my dress shirts off a
hanger and put it on.  She had the tails tied around her bare waist,
and the shirt was unbuttoned, showing a healthy gap of bare skin from
her throat almost to her belly button.  She just looked at me
quizzically, one eyebrow raised, not saying a word.

I just shook my head, turned around, and went back downstairs.  I
wasn't imagining it.

"Is everything all right, Sean?"  My mother sounded concerned.

"Everything's fine," I said.  "I...I just wanted to make sure I
turned off my tape player."

I made it through dinner in nearly record time, and excused myself
from the table.

"The teachers really loaded it on me today, I'm afraid.  I'll be up
doing homework the rest of the night," I told my dad.

I walked upstairs and knocked softly on my door before opening it. 
Molly was back in the closet, and peeked out when she heard the door
close.  She still had on my shirt, but had taken off her shoes and
socks and her sweat pants, leaving only her panties on.  When she saw
I was alone, she jumped up into my arms.  I automatically caught her
when she jumped, and she put her arms around my neck and kissed me as
I held her.  I backed up until my knees hit the bed, and I sat down,
with Molly still in my lap.  She reached down and undid the knot
holding the  shirt together, and the two halves parted, revealing her
body in its glory to me.

Again she took one of my hands and placed it on her breast, pressing
it there before dropping her hands down to my lap to work at my belt.
I felt her nipple expand as I held her boob, and almost without
volition I squeezed and kneaded the pliant flesh.

In the meantime, she put both her hands to work on undoing my jeans,
and managed to loosen the belt and unsnap them before standing up,
breaking our kiss, and pushing me onto my back.  I reluctantly let go
of her soft tit as I lay back, lifting my ass up off the bed so she
could pull my jeans and underwear down and off.

She bent over me to examine what she had unwrapped, and it occurred
to me that she really hadn't ever seen a naked boy in the light
before, as far as I knew.  She held my swollen cock in her small
hand, pulling it toward her and looking it over.  She squeezed it,
eliciting a moan from me, and brushed the fingertips of her other
hand across the sensitive skin of my balls.  I jerked involuntarily
under her ministrations, closing my eyes and surrendering myself to
the pleasures she was imparting.

I felt a warm wetness against the underside of my throbbing cock,
and opened my eyes to see my Molly savoring the taste she had
transferred to her tongue from my skin.  She looked up at me, eyes
smiling, and licked me again, never breaking eye contact.  My cock
jumped at the contact, and she looked down at what she was doing,
still holding my stalk in her hand.  She ran her tongue around the
tip, licking up some of the leaking pre-cum that was drooling out,
and a strand stretched itself from the tip to her tongue as she
backed away.

She bent back to her task, this time taking the tip of my painfully
hard cock between her lips.  Her hand dropped from the base of my
cock onto my balls, which she held and played with gently while she
was using her mouth on me.  She sucked hard on the helmet, rubbing
her tongue around the ridge, and then dropped, ever so slowly, until
her mouth was full of me, and I could feel the back of her tongue on
the tip of my cock.  She exhaled through her nose, and the movement
of the air tickled my pubic hair.  She backed off my cock slowly,
keeping the suction as much as she could, until just the tip was
still encased between her lips.  She opened her mouth to take a deep
breath, resting her teeth on me, and then sucked back down on me
hard.  She started working her head up and down on me, alternately
sucking and loosening, running her tongue around and then up and
down, adding saliva to help to lubricate, creating friction with her
lips and tongue.  She was relentless in her attack, and I could only
collapse back, eyes closed, and suffer the consequences.

The consequences were not long in coming.  I could feel the start of
the sequence deep in my loins.  My hips were rising as she was
dropping onto me, unconsciously trying to bury more of me into her
mouth as I prepared to distribute my seed.

"Uh...uh...M...M...Molly..." I tried to warn her of the impending
explosion, but she was still caught by surprise when I bumped up,
pushing my cock a little further into her mouth than she was
expecting, and shot off my first salvo.

She choked and coughed, eyes watering, then managed to cover me with
her mouth once more to catch the last spurts of my jetting spunk,
swallowing it down as it squirted into her mouth.

At last, the well was dry.  My dick began to slowly lose its
rigidity, even as she tried drawing one last spurt out of me.  But
there was nothing left to give her, despite her efforts.  She scooted
up to lie by me, tucking herself in next to me.  The shirt she was
wearing fluttered open as she lay down, teasing me with a momentary
vision of her small, perfectly formed breasts and lightly freckled
chest.  I couldn't resist the temptation, and reached around and
slipped my hand beneath the shirt to hold her soft boob.  She, in
turn, kept her hand down in my crotch, alternately cradling my balls
and fingering my shrunken cock.

We lay like that for several minutes, not talking, until the
recuperative powers of youth and the persuasive powers of a luscious
young girl combined to send a rush of blood back down into my dick. 
She held me gently in her hand, feeling me expand and fill her palm. 
I squeezed and played with her breasts, alternating from one to the
other, as my internal temperature climbed once again.

"That's really amazing, how it does that," she whispered to me,
marveling at how quickly my cock went from shriveled to stiff.  "I
love holding it when it does that."

"We need to get off the bed so it doesn't make noise," I suggested. 
She didn't want to let go of me, so I slid down and off the edge, all
the while staying on my back so that she could keep her hand on my
cock.  I slipped down to the floor, and Molly knelt next to me,
holding her prize.  I ran my hand down her side to the elastic of her
panties, gripping the waistband in an effort to get them off her. 
She reluctantly let go of me long enough to shimmy out of them and
reach under the bed for one of the foil packets she had hidden there
earlier, anticipating this very moment.  My fingers found her
drooling pussy while she was reaching under the bed, and she knelt
back up and spread her knees out for me as she tore open the packet. 
I parted her folds and released a flood of her moisture, coating my
fingers and spreading down the inside of her thighs.  She got
suddenly anxious to complete her task, and her fingers shook a little
as she positioned the rolled-up condom over my steely dick.  She
rolled the latex down smoothly, and then leaned on her arms, allowing
me to continue with my manipulations in her center.  I had two
fingers plunging into her, and my thumb was rubbing across her
engorged clit, and her hips and thighs started quivering to the
rhythm I was playing on her.

Finally, she lifted her leg, my fingers still buried in her, and
straddled me.  I slowly removed the two fingers that were deep in her
twat, reached down for my cock, and positioned it against her.  She
dropped down onto me, and in one smooth, slow motion sank me
completely into her.  She collapsed down on me for a moment, savoring
the  feeling of fullness and completeness, and then sat up and went
to work.

I reached up with both hands and held my palms flat against her
upthrust boobs, letting the movement of her body rub her swollen
nipples against my hands.  She pressed her body closer, increasing
the contact against her breasts, threw back her head, and lost
herself in the pursuit of her pleasures.

Since I had already come once, I was able to hold off the crisis
until Molly was ready.  It didn't take her long.  She tensed, ground
herself against me, and stepped onto the road to completion.  She
bounced on me, and the tip of my covered cock hit her cervix.  She
leaned forward and scraped her swollen clit against me, and that took
her over the cliff.  She shivered, the spasms traveling from her
thighs up through her torso and back down to her middle, and gave
herself up to her orgasm.  She collapsed down on me, seemingly unable
to catch her breath, as I pumped up at her and experienced the
triggering of my own spasms, mindlessly sending my hot seed deep into
her womb, only to be captured by the encasing latex.

We were both completely spent.  We were sweating and breathing hard
as she rolled exhaustedly off me.  Our bodies separated, hot liquids
that had been there for our joining spread and cooled, and we relaxed
against each other in post-coital languor.

My brain, disconnected from rational thought long ago, tried to get
back on track.

"How did you manage to get here?" I asked.  There was a vague
thought that she had accomplished some sort of deviltry to show up at
my house tonight.

"I told my mom I would be studying and eating dinner at Tessa's
tonight.  Tessa said she'd cover for me."

"Oh."  That was about the limit of information I was able to handle
for the moment.

Something else occurred to me.  "How are we going to get you out of
here?" I asked, more talking to myself than to Molly.

She sighed contentedly.  "I didn't think that far ahead.  It's so
comfortable here, maybe I'll just stay."  She snuggled closer to me.

I sat up, suddenly aware of where we were, and the precarious
position we were in.

"Get up, Mol.  We've got to get you out of here."

She gave me a sour look, but got up and stumbled to the closet to
gather up her clothes.  I threw my shirt and jeans on and slowly
cracked open the door to see what was going on in the world.  I could
hear the television on downstairs in the family room, my mother and
father laughing at some antic being pulled on a comedy they were
watching.  There was no sign of either of my brothers.

"Come on," I whispered, motioning to her to follow me.

We snuck down the stairs and into the kitchen without being seen.  I
opened the back door and let her out, thinking that we had escaped. 
As I was closing the door, though, I heard the front doorbell ring. 
I walked to the sink and got a glass of water, wondering how I was
ever going to get my homework done, when I heard some familiar voices
from the living room.  I headed toward the front of the house.

Mr. and Mrs. Lehigh were there, talking to my parents.  Standing
between them was Jake, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but
there.  I had a sinking feeling in my stomach when I saw them.  Jake
looked up and saw me, and turned away sheepishly.  A bad sign, I said
to myself.  A very bad sign.

"Sean?"  My dad called over to me.  "Perhaps you should come over
here and hear what Jake's parents have to say, son."

Well, the short form was that Jake and Jaimie got caught with their
pants down, literally speaking.  In a panic, Jake blurted out to his
parents that he had gotten condoms from me, which triggered a memory
in Mr. Lehigh's brain, namely seeing me and Josh in his store,
picking out rubbers with his help.

"Is this true, Sean?" my mother asked.

"Well...um...yeah, I guess it is," I admitted.  "I did go there with
Josh, but I was just trying to provide a little moral support for
him.  It's not like I'm needing them for myself," I bluffed.

"Is that so?" asked my dad.  "Maybe we should be calling the
O'Tooles and asking them, too."   I had a bad feeling that my bluff
was about to be called.  "I assume you still have that box somewhere
in your room, Sean.  Bring it down and let's see it."

I was about to protest, about to pull out all the stops about trust,
and constitutional rights, and why do you think I'm lying to you? 
But I saw by the look on his face that I wasn't going to win any of
those arguments.  Muttering under my breath a blue streak along the
lines of what I was going to do to Jake once we both got out of our
respective jails, I trudged upstairs to try to salvage the situation.

Just as I opened my door, I remembered.  Molly!  She had left me
with nearly a full box of condoms, just that evening.  I yanked open
my socks drawer and pulled apart my special pair of soccer socks.  A
dozen foil packets spilled to the floor.  I was saved!

I scooped them up and ran downstairs.  I held out my cupped hands in
triumph, showing the dozen condoms to the Lehighs and my parents. 
Accuse me, will you? I thought to myself.

Mr. Lehigh bent down to look at what I held out.  "Interesting.  But
these are two different types," he said, picking out two similar but
definitely different condoms and holding them up for everyone to see.

I looked at Jake.  We're both busted, he seemed to say to me. 
Unfortunately, I could only silently agree with him.

A half an hour later, the Lehighs were finally walking down the
sidewalk to their car, and I was facing the music in front of my
parents.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Sean," said my mother.  "I thought we
had raised you better than this."

I kept my mouth shut, hoping that my silence would be taken as
contrition.

"You've given us no choice, son," said my dad.  "I think you've set
a new record in this household tonight.  None of your brothers has
ever gotten anywhere near being grounded for life before.  But you've
managed it.  From now on, until further notice, you are to come
straight home from soccer practice.  You will not leave the house
except in the company of one of us, and you will not have any friends
over without getting our permission first.  And, especially, you will
not be here with any girls, including Molly O'Toole.  Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."  I tried to sound as sincere as I could.  At that point
I fervently hoped Molly didn't try sneaking into our house again.

My precious stash of condoms was confiscated, and I was sent to my
room under threat of doom if I so much as sneezed wrong for the
foreseeable future.  I was under house arrest, and I had no idea how
long my sentence was going to be.



(Continued in Chapter 24)


---------------------------------------------------------------------

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(copyright 2001, Rev. Cotton Mather)

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PLAYING THE GAME
by Reverend Cotton Mather



- 24 -

CONTAINED GRIEF AND ANGER




The arrangement my parents worked out was that my dad was going to
drop me off at school in the mornings, and my mom would be waiting
for me at the end of soccer practice in the afternoons.  I climbed
out of my father's car the next morning and walked dejectedly into
school about five minutes before my first class was to start.

I sat down next to Jake and growled at him.

"Thanks a lot, pal.  'I won't get caught.  You can count on me,'" I
mimicked him derisively.  "I guess I know now what your word is
worth," I added disgustedly.

"Look, Sean, I'm really sorry.  But we really got caught red-handed.
When Jaimie's dad found out about it, he was really pissed, you know?
Going on and on about how I stole his daughter's innocence, I could
go to jail for rape, all sorts of shit like that.  I panicked, okay?"

"That's great to know, Jake.  That makes me feel a whole lot better."

"Yeah, well, you at least didn't have to face Mr. Jacks.  I didn't
think I was going to leave the room alive, he was so mad."  He seemed
to shiver at the memory.  "You know, Jaimie's sister Tara has been
spying on us, I think.  She may have been the one who ratted on us."

"Why would she do that, Jake?"

"Ah, hell, I don't know.  She's really been acting weird lately. 
Remember the picnic?  She hasn't gotten any easier to be around."

"That's just too freaky.  Okay, Jake, maybe I can understand why it
happened.  But that doesn't make my situation any better."

"Yeah, I know.  All I can say is that I'm sorry, Sean.  I really am."



I quietly told Molly what happened when I saw her at lunch.  She was
very upset that she was only seconds away from being caught in my
room, but that feeling passed very quickly.  She got a bright look in
her eyes.

"You want to live dangerously, Sean Porter?" she whispered.  "I
might have another plan to come visit you one of these nights."

I nearly choked on my soda.  "Christ, no, Molly!  Are you nuts?"

She chuckled.  "Maybe I am," she murmured.  "Maybe I just am."




True to her word, my mom was there to pick me up after soccer
practice.  It was a cold, silent ride home, and a cold and silent
evening spent in my room, catching up on schoolwork.  No radio, no
stereo, no noise was allowed during my incarceration.  I went to bed
early, a little scared that I would hear the door creak open and see
Molly standing there, but nothing of the kind happened.

The rest of the week was more of the same.  I talked to my friends
at school, but had no contact with anyone after I got home.  It
helped that I was trying to work myself into exhaustion during soccer
practice.  Coach Neville had unknowingly put a lot of pressure on me
as Skip's replacement, and I wanted to do the best I could do.  I was
messing up a lot during practice, which was making some of my
teammates nervous and a little mad, but my attitude was that I could
mess up during practice, as long as I played well in the game.  And
my goal was to play well when it counted, and not worry too much
about how practices were going.

The only truly bright spot to the week was on Thursday afternoon,
when Coach Neville announced to the team that Theo had been brought
successfully out of his coma, and was awake and alert.  That news
cheered everybody up considerably.

Finally it was Friday, game day.  This was to be our first game
without Skip and Theo, and it was a home game.  There was a general
announcement at school in the morning, asking the student body to
support the team, and we were expecting standing room only at the
game.

I was sitting in the locker room with my teammates, half listening
while Coach was giving us some last-minute instructions.  I was
nervous as hell.

"Now, remember, people, that this team will probably test our right
side early on."  Coach Neville looked over in my direction.  "So,
Sean and Kevin, be ready for anything.  Sean, you're an unknown
quantity to our opponents, so don't be afraid to show them what
you're made of.  Kevin should be able to head off some of their
attacks, and our sweeper and keeper will be watching out, so just go
out and play your game."

I nodded, and looked over at Kevin.  He was sitting with his head
down, lost in his own thoughts.  Thinking about Skip and Theo, no
doubt.

Finally, it was time to take the field.  We trotted out and began
our warm-ups.  When the starting lineups were announced and my name
was called, it still startled me.  I was still half expecting Skip to
show up and take his accustomed spot on the field.

We took our positions, and the partisan crowd in the stands gave us
a standing ovation as the referee blew his whistle to start the game.
It was a great show of support for the team, and we appreciated it.

Just as Coach Neville had predicted, the Hamersville Lions did try
our right side at the first opportunity.  Now that the game was
underway, my nervousness was gone, and I could see how their plays
were designed.  I've been in baseball games when the ball seemed like
it was the size of a grapefruit, and I couldn't miss hitting it, and
this game was like that.  The soccer ball looked to be about the size
and weight of a basketball, moving in slow motion across the field,
and I seemed to have plenty of time to get into position to make a
play on it without any interference from the Hamersville midfielders
or forwards.  I was trapping the ball and moving it up at will,
dribbling forward or passing it up to Kevin whenever the Lions worked
it over into my area.  Three times, then four, they deliberately
tested our defense on my side, and each time they were soundly
rebuffed.  Finally they gave up on the maneuver and tried our left
side.  They were no more successful there, either, and by the
halftime whistle we were up 2-0.

The first 45 minutes of the game went by so fast, I was still
feeling incredibly energetic.  I trotted over to the sidelines with
the rest of the team, grabbed a paper glass of water, and poured it
over my head.  I reached for another glass to drink.  Kevin was
there, handing me a glass, a huge smile on his face.

"You're playing great, Sean.  I don't think they're going to be
trying to get by you anymore this game."

John Pennington chimed in.  "That first steal was incredible, Sean. 
Way to go.  I guess I don't have to worry about that side of the
field after all, do I?"

"Oh, yes, you do," I said.  "It's probably just beginner's luck, so
don't go falling asleep on me, okay?"

"All right," said John with a laugh.  "You just keep playing the way
you're playing, though, and we'll be fine back there with nothing to
do."

I was jittery with all the adrenaline pumping through me, anxious to
get back on the field.  I hopped up and paced the sidelines, wishing
the whistle would blow soon so I could start running again.  I looked
down the bench and saw Coach and Trent leaning over a dismayed Eric,
both of them talking intently to him at the same time.  Eric looked
from one to the other, nodding at each of them in turn, a towel over
his head and an untouched cup of water in his hand.  I didn't notice
anything in the first half that should have caused them to be
yammering at him, but then again I was so intent on protecting my own
turf that once the ball left my area, I just tracked it down the
field, instead of paying attention to who was doing what with it.

The ref blew his whistle to start the second half, and we all
trotted out to take our positions.

The full 45 minutes of the second half seemed to move in some sort
of dreamlike state.  On the one hand, the time flew by so quickly, it
seemed like I was out on the field for about seven or eight minutes. 
On the other hand, it was like everything was moving in slow motion. 
I had plenty of time to get to the ball, and each time I would pass
long, the ball would arc majestically through the crystal air, taking
its sweet time to land just where I wanted it to.  It was a magical,
very scary evening, full of contained grief and anger.  At the end of
it all, we won the game by a score of 4-1.

After the game, as I was sitting on the bench with the rest of the
team, the adrenal glands finally ran out of production.  I went into
a severe case of the shivers, so bad that I could hardly stand.  Eric
and Jorge and Kevin helped me back to the locker rooms and sat me
down on a bench.  Eric ran out to get my father, who came in to find
me almost comatose, shivering and exhausted from the emotions of the
game.  My dad took one arm, Eric took the other, and they guided me
out into the parking lot and into the back seat of my dad's car,
where I finally just collapsed and pretty much passed out.

I vaguely remember the car doors slamming, the car starting up, and
the tires crunching through the gravel of the back parking lot.  My
mom and my dad were talking about me on the way home, but it all
sounded like a huge hive of bees in the car, buzzing and hovering
around my ears.  I couldn't make out a word they were saying, and I
just didn't have the energy to care as I lay there, mostly
unconscious and completely wasted.



The next week was a very strange combination of sadness, euphoria,
and grinding boredom.  Our tiny local paper had covered the game, and
their report was picked up by the Metro Times on Monday for their
High School Sports section.  The human interest side of the story,
about our first game after Skip and Theo's accident, was the focus,
but they did also have a write-up about the game itself.  Eric
Johnson was singled out as "the new speedster in the midfield" and
praised for scoring a goal on his first start.  They also painted an
entirely too flattering picture of our defense in general, and Sean
Porter specifically, bantering about phrases such as "playing
exceptionally well under extraordinary circumstances", and "a
surprisingly volatile defensive style", whatever that means.  If they
had seen me in my dad's car after the game, they probably wouldn't
have been so complimentary, I thought.

Coach Neville announced to the team that Theo was having difficulty
coping with the results of the accident, and suggested that we make
an effort to stop by the hospital and visit with him sometime this
week to try to cheer him up.

Poo-Poo was arraigned on manslaughter charges and was still in the
local jail.  The others who were with him were released on bond, and
the rest of the Bulls had changed their ways, in light of the
troubles facing their leader and friends.  They were back in school,
but they were making an effort to dress preppy, showing up in new
clothes, with their hair cut and clean, and keep a very low profile. 
It didn't work very well.  They were still hazed and harassed for
their association with Del Toro.

Another interesting factoid surfaced during that week.  It seemed
that Allison Moseley, the buxom ditz that was hanging on Theo at the
pool party, was the object of Vinnie Arilio's affections.  He was so
enraged when he heard about Theo doing her that he may have convinced
Richie to go out looking for Theo that Saturday night.

I was still under house arrest myself.  Dad dropped me off in the
mornings, but by the end of the week he was getting pretty irritated
with the routine.  Mom picked me up in the afternoons, and I spent
the rest of the time at home, either up in my room doing homework or
watching TV with the rest of the family.  Fortunately, Molly's better
instincts kept her from trying to sneak into my house.  I missed
kissing her and holding her, though, and I know that she was missing
me, too.  On Wednesday at lunch, she told me just how much she was
missing being with me.

We were sitting together at one of the long tables in the cafeteria
with a bunch of other kids, and it was noisy and boisterous in the
large room.  She was wearing a plaid wraparound skirt with a big
brass safety pin as an accessory holding it together, and a fuzzy
sweater that fit her very well.  She leaned over to whisper say
something in my ear.

"I really miss you, Sean," she breathily said.

"I miss you, too, Mol," I answered.

"No, Sean," she said.  "I really, really miss you."  She flicked her
tongue against my earlobe.

I flinched back.  "What are you doing, Molly?!?"  God, not here in
the lunch room, I thought.

She grabbed my hand and pressed it to the inside of her thigh, under
her skirt.  She kept her hand on top of mine, to keep me from jerking
it away.

"Trying to let you know how much I miss you, silly."  She tried to
move my hand up further on her leg, but I was nearly frantic in my
efforts to look calm while I tried to yank away from her.  As it was,
I wasn't going to be able to stand up anytime soon because of her.

She nipped my earlobe between her teeth and bit down lightly,
sending shivers through me.  "What if I told you I wasn't wearing any
panties?" she whispered.  That sent even more shivers through me. 
She grabbed my wrist with both hands and pulled my hand up further on
her leg.  I felt the bottom seam of her underwear as my fingers
brushed against her damp pussy.  I sighed, whether in relief or in
frustration I wasn't sure.

She chuckled throatily as she let me go, her skirt falling back in
place under the table.  "You're just too easy to flip up, Porter,"
she said.  She turned back to her lunch as if nothing had happened.

"Molly, I can't help it if I'm grounded.  I wish I wasn't too, you
know."

"Well, you'd better figure something out soon.  I'm really
getting...itchy."  She wadded up her wrappers and stood up to leave. 
She gave me a wink and sauntered away, hips swishing her skirt from
side to side, knowing I was watching her.

I groaned in frustration.  I was done with lunch, but I still
couldn't stand up without embarrassing myself.  Damn her, I thought
to myself.  She was really going to get me in hot water some day.



Our game that Friday was an away game.  We took a school bus to
Rockton Heights High School, and a convoy of kids from school
followed us to the game.  This game was against our toughest rivals
in our conference, and we were all worked up about coming away with a
victory.  There were only three more games in the regular season, and
we wanted to be playing at our peak for the playoffs.  This game
would be a good test for our realigned left offense, as well as our
right defense.

Practice this past week had gone well, especially after our win the
week before.  We worked on plays, and made mistakes galore, knowing
that it was all a learning process for us as a team.  I hoped that
the mistakes would be left on the practice field again.

The game was surprisingly emotional.  Rockton Heights asked their
fans to give a moment of silence in honor of our fallen players, and
the entire team came over to our bench and shook our hands before the
starting lineups were announced.  It brought a lump to my throat, and
I don't think I was the only member of our team who suddenly had
blurry vision.

The game was every bit as tough as it was hyped to be.  Their
defense was strong, and they had one of the best forwards in the
state on their team, playing in the middle.  Their left forward,
playing on my side of the field, was a cagey senior who was not going
to let a sophomore like me get the best of him.  He was trash-talking
at me through the first half, taunting and daring me to challenge
him, both on and off the ball.  Just before the end of the half, he
took a give-and-go from his midfielder and tried to end-run me, but I
slid down and managed to knock the ball out of bounds.  On the throw-
in, Rockton sent most of their players up, leaving only two defenders
and the keeper back, trying to make the most of a scoring
opportunity.  I saw that they were going to throw across to the
middle, so I signaled to Kevin to switch, and I raced over just as
the throw was made.  I got there in time to step in front of the
intended receiver, trapped the ball, and headed upfield as fast as I
could go.  Their defensive midfielder angled over to cut me off, but
I saw Eric streaking down the middle, wide open and calling for the
ball.  I passed it over to him and took off past the startled
defender, into the open space on the side.  Eric trapped the ball,
took two steps with it, and rocketed it back over to me.  The last
defender was caught between us, undecided about who he should cover,
and his momentary hesitation cost him.  He ran toward me, leaving
Eric unguarded, so I crossed the ball to him, and he powered it into
the back of the net unobstructed.  I ran over to him, yelling and
screaming, and he jumped up into me, knocking us both to the ground. 
We got up just as the rest of the team got over to us to congratulate
us on the goal.  We trotted back over to our side for the kickoff,
and a moment later the whistle ending the first half sounded.

The second half didn't go quite so well.  Rockton made some
adjustments to their game, and scored two quick goals in succession
before we could figure out their changes.  The game see-sawed back
and forth from then on, first Rockton on the offensive, and then us
attacking, but no one scored until a hand ball was called inside the
box on one of their defensemen.  We scored on the penalty kick, and
time ran out in regulation with the score tied, 2-2.

We played a ten-minute overtime period scoreless, and had one more
overtime period to play in sudden death.  If nobody scored, we would
have to go to a penalty-kick shoot-off to decide the game, something
neither side wanted.  We were on the bench trying to catch our breath
before the start of the second overtime period.  The batteries were
just about drained on all of us starters.  Coach was considering
substituting some of his players in favor of fresh legs, but in the
end opted for experience on the field at this crucial stage.

In 20-20 hindsight, it was a mistake.  Rockton did substitute, and
their fresh players were able to control the ball, while we were
always one step behind the ball because of our weariness.  In the
sixth minute, they had a corner kick against us, and they made the
most of it.  The kick came out to about 18 meters out.  Kevin made a
play on the ball, but stumbled as he went for it.  The Rockton
midfielder passed it back to the kicker on the side, angling out from
the corner, who fired it in at the goal.  He was mine to cover, and I
didn't get to him in time.  John tried diving for it, but was a
fraction too late, and the ball hit the back of the net and made it
flutter.  Rockton had defeated us in the second overtime period, 3-2.
We congratulated them, trudged over to the bench to pack up our gear,
stripping off shoes and sodden socks and shinguards and stuffing them
into our bags.

We walked dejectedly to the bus and climbed on for the long ride
back to our school.  On the way back, as we were sucking down water
from a big cooler set up in the back, Coach tried to put a positive
spin on the game, congratulating us on our play, and admonishing us
that one loss so far in the season was of little consequence.  We
were all too tired to do anything but sit there and listen to his
words wash over us, each drawn in on our own thoughts about where we
might have done better during the game.

By the time we got back to the school, the caravan that had gone to
support us at the game had already arrived.  Instead of leaving to go
home, nearly all the kids and parents had stayed in the school
parking lot to wait for our bus.  They were applauding and cheering
us as we stumbled out and onto the blacktop of the parking lot,
surprised and gratified at the show of support.  I saw Molly, and
Heather and Evan, and Toby and Jen and Sam, and Jake and Kayla, and
Josh, and everybody else there, standing around us in a semicircle as
we gathered our gear and moved off into the crowd.  My parents were
there, too, with my brother Stephen, and my dad grabbed my bag and
carried it to the car as my mom put her arm around my shoulder,
heedless of the grime and sweat, and held me close as we walked
slowly through the parking lot.  I crawled into the back seat and lay
back, my head lolling against the rear cushion.

As he started the car, my dad said, "You played a great game
tonight, son.  You know, you mother and I have been talking about
you.  We think you might have been grounded for long enough.  We'll
talk about lifting at least part of your sentence in the morning."

"Okay," I mumbled, too tired to say more.



(Continued in Chapter 25)


---------------------------------------------------------------------

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@hotmail.com
Don't be shy!  I enjoy hearing from you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------




PLAYING THE GAME
by Reverend Cotton Mather



- 25 -

TRICKS AND TREATS



I was indeed paroled.  I had a certain amount of my freedom back,
but I had to call them and let them know where I was and what I was
doing at all times.  It was a pain, but it was better than it was.

The next Monday, the Metro Times carried an even bigger story about
our game, even though we had lost.  I was embarrassed to read that I
was being touted as "the defensive specialist who was also a scoring
threat", after my assist in the first half.

I didn't want all the attention I started getting.  Hell, I was only
15 years old.  I wanted to just go out and have fun playing the game.

By the end of October, the Rockton game was our only loss.  We would
be seeded first in the conference playoffs.  Rockton was seeded
second, and we might have a chance to play them again for the
conference finals, with luck.

  I still wasn't allowed to go out and hang out with just Molly, and
we weren't able to wangle any time alone.  Molly was complaining more
and more about being unable to scratch her "itch", and I was
beginning to think of her as being much more sexually driven than any
other kids I knew, which was saying an awful lot.  I was worried that
the boyfriend-girlfriend relationship was suffering because of our
inability to have any intimate time together.  Besides that, I was
getting pretty horny, too, and her complaints didn't help much.

Around two weeks before the end of October, Molly and Tessa decided
they would have a costume party at Molly's house on the Saturday
before Halloween.  I asked my parents if I could go.  They called up
Molly's parents to find out if the O'Tooles or the Navarrones were
going to be there to chaperone.  Since both sets of parents were
planning on being at the house during the party, my parents
reluctantly agreed to let me go.  Now I had to come up with a good
costume.

In the end, laziness won out over creativity.  My dad had a cowboy
outfit, complete with holster and cap gun, tucked away in a closet,
and I pulled it out and tried it on.  It fit well enough, and with a
cheap felt cowboy hat that I found scrunched up and stuck in a corner
of the closet, I was set for the party.

I got over to Molly's early to help Tessa and her get the basement
decorated.  The Navarrones and the O'Tooles were all there, except
for Heather, busy getting sodas packed in ice, black lights hung up,
streamers and fake spider webs strung.  Mr. and Mrs. O'Toole were
creating a mini haunted house in the laundry room, with a mannequin's
head painted to look like it had been decapitated from a body, a bowl
of peeled grapes for eyeballs, and rubber bats and spiders hanging
all around.  Lisbeth, Josh and Tessa were hanging streamers from
walls and ceilings, and I helped Mr. Navarrone get the drinks and ice
set up, along with paper cups, napkins, and garbage baskets placed in
the corners of the large room.  Molly was in the kitchen getting
snacks ready, chips and popcorn and nuts in big bowls.  Later on,
they would be ordering pizzas to be delivered for everybody.

We were just putting the last of the decorations up when kids
started showing up for the party.  There were mostly 9th and 10th
graders who were invited, but these things had a way of expanding
sometimes.  Josh and Molly had run upstairs to their rooms to change
into their costumes, and came down just as the doorbell was starting
to ring.  Josh was a monk of some sort, wearing a hooded robe with a
rope for a belt, his bare feet in sandals.  Molly was a hippie girl,
complete with a huge afro-style wig and rose-colored glasses.  They
greeted kids at the door as they came up.

The first to arrive were Jen and Sam, dressed like the American
Gothic farmer and wife.  They were both so thin and tall, it was a
natural for them.  Sam wore bib overalls and carried a pitchfork, and
Jen had on a gingham dress that buttoned to her throat, her hair
pulled back tight on her head.  Toby, nearly the smallest kid in
school, came in a Superman costume, complete with cape, which made us
all laugh (which was, after all, the point for Toby).  Eric was a
priest, Keisha a nun.  Jorge took the easy way out and came in his
soccer uniform, but Kristina went all out, dressing up as Catwoman, a
la Eartha Kitt.  Jake was a pirate, with a hook for a hand and a
stuffed parrot glued to his shoulder.  Jake was still barred from
seeing Jaimie, so Kayla came with him, looking absolutely amazing as
Jeannie the Genie, complete with billowy balloon pants with elastic
at the waist and ankles, a pink halter top, and a little cap with a
wispy veil that fell behind her head.  

All in all, there were about 30 kids at the party, more girls than
boys, when all was said and done.  We had music playing loud, and
there was a strobe light pulsing in a corner of the room.  Some kids
were dancing occasionally, mostly just standing in one place and
jerking around, but some kids brought their disco moves with them and
were working it out.  Most of the lights were out, with just the
strobe on one end and the black lights on the other, but either
Molly's parents or Tessa's parents were circulating almost
constantly, coming down from the kitchen with plates of snacks and
chips, refilling the ice chest, checking on drinks, emptying filling
trash containers, keeping a sharp eye on the proceedings.  

Mr. O'Toole stationed himself in the haunted house, where all the
lights were off, guiding each kid around and through the spider webs,
to the bowl of peeled eyes, and then to the severed head, where he
switched on a spotlight to illuminate it in all its gruesome glory. 
Each time he did that, he got a very satisfying scream from every
girl, and a few of the guys even jumped back at the sudden sight of
it.  He was very pleased with himself, I could tell.  After all the
partygoers had gone through the room, he closed the room and went
upstairs to join the other adults, leaving just the spotlight on the
head as a deterrent to mischief.

After a couple of hours, it was apparent to the adults that we were
reasonably well behaved, that we had not brought any alcohol or
drugs, and that we were having a good time despite their presence, so
they began coming down less and less to check on us.  Molly and Tessa
were still making occasional trips up to the kitchen for more snacks
or sodas, so there was little reason for the parents to come down
anymore.  Besides, we were making enough noise, how much trouble
could we get into?

Somebody suggested a variation on the old spin-the-bottle game. 
Since it was a big basement, there were two doors leading to the
utility area, one by the furnace and one in the laundry area.  After
some negotiation, it was decided that all the boys would sit in a
circle by the laundry room door, all the girls would be at the other
end of the large room, sitting on the floor by the furnace door. 
There was a soda bottle in the middle of each circle.  It was decided
that there would be two spins of each bottle.  The first spin would
determine who would meet at the laundry room end, where the haunted
house had been set up.  The second spin would determine who would
meet at the furnace end, where there was virtually no light at all.

There was a lot of squealing and giggling going on from the girls'
end of the room as we guys gathered around in our circle, laughing
and joking about who would end up with whom.  When Molly gave the go-
ahead, I grabbed our bottle and gave it a spin at the same time Tessa
twirled the bottle by the girls.  We weren't supposed to let the
other circle know who was going to each area.  Everybody wanted it to
be a surprise.

The bottle ended up pointing at Toby first.  He got up and went in
the door to await his partner.  I spun the bottle a second time, and
it ended up pointing at Eric.  He went through the door at our end
and headed toward the furnace side.  We could hear more giggles and
low talk coming from the other end of the room.  The agreed-upon time
was the length of the next full song on the album playing on the
record player, which was loud enough to be heard anywhere in the
basement (and probably the whole house).  The rest of us spent the
time refilling glasses and grabbing another piece of pizza while we
waited for the song to end.

At the end of their time, Toby and Eric came back out to our group. 
Eric had a smile on his face, but Toby looked absolutely shell-
shocked.

"Who were you back there with?" asked Josh.

"Kendra," said Eric, grinning.  Kendra was a sophomore at school,
medium height with a plain face and mousy brown hair.  She had, in
Toby's words, "big bazooms", though, and she was, it was rumored,
generous with her favors.  She had come to the party in a tavern
wench costume, with a fair amount of cleavage showing to spark the
interest of us boys.  "She told me she liked chocolate," he added
with a smile.

We whooped and hollered at that information, glad that the current
activity had gotten off to such a good start.  We turned to Toby and
asked him about who he had ended up with.  He hesitated before
answering.

"Ummm...it was Jen," he said sheepishly.  Everybody else started
laughing at the thought of tiny Toby alone with tall Jen Davies.  He
glanced at me with a sad look in his eye, though.  I was the only
one of his friends who really knew how he felt about Jen, and I knew
it hurt him to be the butt of this particular joke.  I wondered if
Jen had said anything bad to him.  Hey, it's nothing, he seemed to
say to me as he shrugged and sat back down again in the circle.  He
grabbed the bottle and gave it a spin.

This time, Jake was picked to go to the laundry room side, and I was
on the furnace side.  As I passed by him, I heard the door at the
other end open, and Kayla was walking toward me, heading for the
laundry room.  She stopped and smiled at me, and then, making sure I
was blocking Jake's view, she lifted her pink halter to flash me a
glimpse of her small, delectable and completely naked breasts.  She
let her top drop back into place, and swished by me with a murmured
"Excuse me, Sean."

As she brushed by me, I turned to stare after her and almost fell
down when I bumped up against a metal post.  Embarrassed, I continued
down toward the furnace, just as the door opened again, and Tessa
walked in.

We sat down and leaned against the plywood wall, my arm comfortably
around her shoulder in a friendly manner.  We chatted for a couple of
minutes about nothing at all, until Tessa turned to me and said
softly, "Molly says you're a good kisser."

I was a little surprised, but I wasn't so dense that I couldn't pick
up on the hint.  I bent over and kissed her softly.  Her hand sneaked
up and wrapped itself around my neck while we kissed, her fingers
tangling in my hair.  It was a sweet, noncommittal, friendly and brief
contact, and we stood up together and moved apart just as the song
was ending.  We each headed for our respective doors, and this time
when I passed Kayla, she just smiled at me and continued on her way.

"Okay, who were you guys with?" asked Eric.

"My sister," replied Jake disgustedly.

"I was with Tessa," I said.  Nobody had much to say about either of
those, so we sat back down and Jake spun the bottle.

We kept on playing like that for about a half an hour, with some of
the guys coming back with tales of kisses and hugs, others with no
activity to report.  Josh came back out one time looking very
sheepish, saying only that he had been back there with the legendary
Kendra.  At the same time, I thought I heard an increased volume of
whispers and giggles from the other side of the room.


Finally, the bottle landed on me again, sending me back to the
furnace side.  Scott Taylor, costumed as a doctor in scrubs, was
chosen for the laundry room side, and we walked through the door
together.  As I headed down the dark room, Molly was walking toward
me.  She stopped when she got to me, reached up and put her arms
around my neck, and pulled herself up to give me a very wet kiss as
she pressed her body against me.  My internal connectors burned away
as the heat she suddenly generated burst forth.

"Just a little reminder of what you've been missing," she whispered
as she backed away from me.  She smiled, and continued on toward the
other side of the room.

I saw the far door open once again, but couldn't see who came in.  I
made my way down to the furnace area, until my foot bumped up against
the leg of whoever was sitting, leaning back against the wall.

"Who's there?" I whispered.

There was no answer, but I did feel a small hand grasp mine and pull
down, urging me to sit beside her.  I sat, and the person still held
my hand, but now pressed my palm up against her bare midriff.

"Hi, Sean," Kayla whispered.

I was still in a minor state of arousal from Molly's kiss, and
Kayla's voice activated more burners, stoking the fire.  I slipped my
arm around her shoulder, and she naturally moved in and raised her
face for our first kiss in months.  I could make out the almost white
radiance of her fine hair as she moved closer to me, and I closed my
eyes as our lips met.  She clutched both her hands to my wrist on her
belly, pressing my hand harder into her stomach as we melted into
each other, our first soft kiss followed by a much hungrier one,
mouths open and tongues frantically searching.

We were pretty much lost together, unaware that our song had ended
until a small shaft of light fell across us as the door opened.  We
stopped kissing and looked up, startled, just as Molly was staring
back at us, frozen in the act of opening the door as she saw Kayla
and I, holding each other.

Oh, shit on a stick, I thought to myself.  I have just opened a
large, economy sized can of worms.

The game went on for a few more spins, but my heart really wasn't in
it anymore.  It really didn't matter, because the bottle never
pointed at me again that night.  The room had gotten noticeably
quieter, even noticeable upstairs, so one or another of the parents
started making quick trips down to see what was going on.  They were
ostensibly walking around checking on snacks and stuff, but they were
also quietly counting heads, so the game stopped and kids began
milling around again, sometimes dancing, sometimes just grouping and
yakking.

A slow song began playing, and Molly slipped her arm into mine and
guided me out into the middle of the room so we could dance close.

"What was that with you and Jake's little sister?" she asked
quietly.  Too quietly.

"It was nothing, Mol.  I was just playing the game, you know?" I
whispered.  I dropped her hand and put both arms around her waist.

"It looked like you were enjoying playing the game a little too
much, Sean."

"Hey, come on, give me a break," I pleaded.  "I kissed Tessa, too. 
I'm sure she told you about it.  Besides, don't try to tell me you
didn't give Scotty a little peck on the cheek."

"Okay," she admitted.  "I did kiss him.  But I also heard the song
end, which is more than you can say."

"Hey, she's just a kid.  It was probably her first time kissing a
boy.  I just wanted to give her something to remember, that's all."

"I'll bet it wasn't her first time kissing a boy," Molly muttered. 
But she let it drop at that, for which I was silently grateful.  I
had the sinking feeling, though, that this was not the last time this
subject would come up between us.

Molly seemed a little distracted the rest of the evening, but I
figured it was because we were at her house and all.

Maybe that was it.  Then again, maybe it wasn't.



(Continued in Chapter 26)

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