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Subject: {ASSM} -RP- Playing the Game, Ch. 6-10 by Rev. Cotton Mather
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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
- 6 -
LORI AND DAVEY AND KIP
The next day, I got a call from the lady who was in charge of
assigning referees to the soccer games sponsored by our soccer
association.
"Hello, Mrs. Dailey," I said. "Is there going to be a schedule
change?"
"No, Sean," she answered. "I got a call from one of the parents at a
game you officiated at last week that I need to talk to you about."
"Oh?" I asked with some apprehension. "Did I do something wrong?"
I was thinking about that game that my concentration was not on after
my experience with Kayla.
"No, Sean, not at all. This was one of your under-8 games from a
couple of weeks ago. It seems you impressed some of the parents.
This particular mom wanted your name and phone number to ask if you
would be interested in giving some private soccer lessons to her
children. Since it's not our policy to just give out telephone
numbers, I told her I would call you and give you her name and
number, and if you were interested you would call her instead. She
agreed to that, so I have her information if you would like it."
"That's great, Mrs. Dailey, I really appreciate it."
"You know, Sean, usually when I get calls from parents it's to
complain about one of our officials. It's a pleasure to be able to
pass along one of the few compliments we receive. You should feel
good about the job you've been doing out there, and I for one really
appreciate the work you've done."
"Aw, Jeez, Mrs. Dailey, you're embarrassing me, but thanks."
"You're very welcome, Sean," she said, "And thank YOU."
She gave me the information. The call was from a Mrs. Wilkinson, and
she was interested in beginner lessons for her 7-year-old and
8-year-old boys. I called her and introduced myself, and we chatted
for a few minutes.
"So, Sean, you were the referee at my son's game, and I was really
impressed with how well you were able to communicate with the kids.
Kip is 7, and his brother Davey is 8, and they both say they want to
learn how to play better. Would you be interested in helping them?
I'll be glad to pay you by the hour."
"Sure, Mrs. Wilkinson, I'll be glad to help them."
And so arrangements were made. The Wilkinsons lived about half a
mile from my house, so I agreed to meet the boys that afternoon at
their house to start their lessons.
After lunch, I loaded up my gear in a backpack and rode my bike over
to their house. I rang the bell, and a lady answered the door.
"You must be Sean. I'm Lori Wilkinson. Come on in and meet the
boys."
I was a little shocked that this person was really Mrs. Wilkinson.
She looked to be barely into her 20's. She was about 5'6" tall,
slender, with light brown hair cut just to her shoulders. She was
very tan and looked very fit. The halter-top she wore accentuated
her small waist and made her top look bigger than it probably was, and
the white shorts made her tan legs look like they were about a mile
long. If she hadn't introduced herself, I would have assumed she
was a college-age babysitter or something.
I followed her back into the house. In the kitchen, she offered me
some lemonade, and then poked her head out the patio door.
"Kip!" she called. "Davey! Come in for a minute, boys!"
I heard them before I saw them. They were yelling and tumbling and
practically doing somersaults over each other on their way into the
house. They stopped for a second when they saw me by the kitchen
table, and Mrs. Wilkinson introduced us.
"Are you going to teach us soccer?" asked Davey.
"You were the referee at my game," said Kip at the same time.
"Yes and yes," I answered. "Do you want to learn?"
"YEAH!" they both yelled. "I'm gonna play for the Chicago Sting!"
shouted Davey.
"Oh yeah? Well, I'm gonna play for... for... the CUBS!" yelled Kip.
"You dope, the Cubs play baseball, not soccer," sneered Davey.
"Not by the time I'm playing for them, they won't be," insisted Kip.
"All right, boys, enough! Grab your soccer gear, and don't forget
your shin guards, and follow Sean, all right? And listen to what he
says, and no smarting off to him. He's the boss. Got it?" Mrs.
Wilkinson pinned them both with a stern eye. "No trouble from you
two hoodlums, okay?" she added.
"Okay!" they shouted in unison. And off they went to collect their
gear.
Mrs. Wilkinson watched them go, and then turned to me.
"They're good boys," she said. "Just a little rambunctious. They'll
listen to you. They really like to play soccer, and I think they
really want to learn."
"Don't worry, Mrs. Wilkinson, we'll be fine. I like little kids, and
your boys look like they know how to have fun. We'll have a good
time, I know we will."
"Thank you, Sean. And please, call me Lori." She poured us both a
little more lemonade while we waited for the boys to come back.
I was right about Kip and Davey. They were very active little boys,
but they were also happy to listen to what I had to say, as long as I
didn't talk too much. A lot of soccer is learned kicking and
dribbling, however, not being lectured at, so the boys and I had a
great time at our first lesson working on basics. By the end of the
first lesson they were actually passing the ball pretty much in the
direction they wanted it to go, and were running ahead of me as we
made our way from the park back to their house, passing the ball back
and forth and staying about five feet from each other, as I had
taught them.
When we got to their house, they opened the door and burst in,
shouting and yelling to their mother about their lesson. Lori came
out from the back of the house and poured us all more lemonade as she
listened to their excited chatter about all they had learned. Every
once in a while she would glance up at me and give me a big smile.
Finally she clapped her hands and said, "Okay, boys, way to go.
Everybody upstairs now, and wash your hands and faces. You guys are
filthy!"
Kip and Davey slammed down their glasses and ran up the stairs, in
constant motion. Lori refilled my glass and reached for her purse.
"Thank you so much, Sean. I really appreciate the time you took with
them. I know they can be a handful sometimes."
"They're great kids, Lori," I said. "They're enthusiastic, and
they're friendly, and they really are interested in learning how to
play soccer. They may be a lot of work, but they seem to be a lot of
fun, too."
"They are a lot of work, especially for a single mom. But you're
right, they are fun. Anyway," she said, handing me the money,
"here's for today. Can you come back tomorrow?"
"Sure, and thanks for letting me work with them," I said. We walked
to her front door, and I yelled up the stairs to the boys. "See you
tomorrow, guys! Good job!"
"Bye, Sean!" "See you tomorrow, Sean!"
"Goodbye, Sean. And thank you for taking such good care of my little
guys." She touched my arm lightly as she said goodbye. I hopped on
my bike and rode home, turning back to wave as I rode down the
street. Lori was there, in her doorway, the whole time, watching me
ride away.
(Continued in Chapter 7)
---------------------------------------------------------------------
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
- 7 -
UNTIED SHOES
When I got home, I took a shower and grabbed something to eat. I had
another game to work, so I headed over to the soccer fields. I was
working for another referee as a line judge for a girl's under-16
game. Working as a line judge was easy, plus, since I was only
working half the field, I could talk a little with some of the kids
on the teams while they were on the sidelines. Since both teams, the
Sting Rays and the Kickin' Chicks, were from our school, it was a
friendly game, with the girls on both sides just as ready to joke
with their opponents as try to steal the ball from them. Molly
O'Toole was a midfielder on the Sting Rays team, and I saw Josh and
his mom sitting in the bleachers watching the game.
After the game, Josh came up to me and said, "Sean, a bunch of us are
going to the Dairy Queen. Want to come along and hang out?"
"Sure," I said. "Who all is going?"
"Oh, me and Shayna and Molly and Tessa and Jen and Sam and Toby and
maybe some others. The girls want to shower and clean up from the
game, so they are going to meet us there in about an hour."
"Sounds good. Maybe I'll swing over to Jake's house to see if he
wants to come, too," I said.
"Okay, great. I'll see you there, then," he said as he ran to catch
up to his mom and his sister.
Shayna Gallagher was Josh's girlfriend, a rough-and-tumble girl who
played soccer with abandon, heedless of injury. She had only been
playing for about a year, but she had already earned a bit of a
reputation as a player to be careful around. She will knock you down
and run right over you without a glance. On the other hand, she will
take a knockdown from an opponent without a second thought,
considering it all a part of the game. Most other girls around our
age tended to take rough treatment on the soccer field almost
personally, instead of adopting Shayna's cavalier attitude. She had
bright red hair that she kept cut pretty short, and was attractive in
a tomboyish kind of way.
Tessa Navarrone was Molly's best friend, and was her physical
opposite. Molly, like her older sister Heather, was a real Irish
beauty, with long, curly red-gold hair. I've heard people call her
hair color strawberry blonde, and I guess that's an accurate
description. She was on the junior varsity cheerleading squad last
year, and was looking forward to joining her sister on the varsity
squad this year. She was tall and slender, and looked really good
in her letter sweaters and pleated skirts. Tessa, on the other
hand, was short and dark, and looked slightly overweight (a mistake
her opponents on the playing field often made, to their dismay),
with coarse black hair. She was a bulldog on the soccer field,
though, playing at the keeper position. She had two special
attributes as a goalkeeper: she could punt the ball into the
opponent's half of the field, and she was steadfast in her defense
of a breakaway or a penalty kick. She tallied more shutouts than
anyone else I had ever heard about around our area, and she would
often use her loud voice to move her defensive teammates around, or
to rally her team to greater efforts.
Jen Davies and her boyfriend Sam Loggins were both a year younger
than the rest of us. Jen played forward for the Kickin' Chicks, and
was their leading scorer. She was tall and gangly, excruciatingly
thin, and could pump her long legs fast enough to leave everyone
around her in her dust. Her ball handling skills, I thought, were
only average, but her speed made her a formidable player. She and
Sam had been going together just since the spring, but all summer
long you never saw one without the other being nearby. Sam was also
very tall, well over 6 feet, and as a freshman was considered to be
the future star of our high school basketball team.
Toby Mueller was the runt of the group, a practical joker and
energizer bunny. I always told him he was a perfect Ritalin kid, and
he never disagreed. I thought he was so manic so people wouldn't
care so much how small he was, and it mostly worked. He was smaller
than Jaimie's sister Tara, even though he was 15 like most of the
rest of us. He even had to show his school ID when he went to a PG-13
movie. And, in a bit of a perverse twist, I knew he really had a
serious thing about Jen. Just the thought of 6-foot Jen walking
around with tiny Toby was enough to make me bust a gut, but I kept
his secret to myself, and didn't laugh even when he told me about
his feelings for her.
I hopped on my bike and raced over to Jake's house. He was home, in
the basement playing a game of Pong.
"Come on," I urged. "No time to waste. Let's go, now!"
I grabbed the controller out of his hand and threw it down, and
practically pushed him up the stairs and out his back door.
"Grab your bike and follow me," I yelled as I took off across the
field behind his house.
"Sean! Wait up!" I could hear him struggling to catch up to me as I
dropped my bike at the edge of the woods.
"Come on," I yelled. "You're going to owe me big time for this!"
He finally rode up, out of breath, and I headed into the woods with
Jake at my heels. I turned and put my finger to my lips, silently
indicating to him to be quiet, as we approached the ladder on the
tree behind the O'Toole house. We climbed up to our perches, and I
pointed toward the bathroom window.
We didn't have to wait long. After a few minutes, a lovely and
completely naked Molly stepped from the shower and into our view in
the mirror. Her breasts were high and tight on her chest as she
raised her arms to wrap a towel around her wet hair. We could just
see a shadow of her reddish blonde pubic hair as she moved across our
field of vision. We watched her take another towel off a shelf and
wrap it around her, and she opened the door and stepped out of the
bathroom.
Since the curtains to her room were still closed, Jake and I
scrambled down and out of the woods to our bikes.
"Did you see that!" Jake exclaimed. "Un-fucking-believable! How did
you know she would be there?"
I told him about the soccer game, and Josh's invitation, as we
climbed back on our bikes and started back across the field.
"All right, I'm there! Let me just let my mom know where we're
going, and I'll be right back out," he said as he dropped his bike and
headed into his house.
We rode together over to the Dairy Queen. Toby, Sam, Jen and Josh
were already there, sitting around two picnic tables set up behind
the building. Jen and Sam were holding cones and sitting together,
and Toby and Josh were holding the other table for the group. Jake,
Josh and I went in and ordered, and by the time we got back out, the
rest of the group had arrived. Jake looked at Molly and immediately
turned red and looked away. In my mind's eye I could see her, as
she was just a few minutes ago, damp and fresh as she stepped from her
shower, and knew that Jake was thinking the same thing. Luckily,
Molly and Tessa ran into the store, along with Toby and Shayna and
Josh, to place their orders without noticing Jake's discomfort, and
by the time they came out with their ice cream we were all back to
our usual rowdy selves again.
Sam, Jen, Josh, Shayna, and Toby were sitting at one table, and the
rest of us were draped around the other one as we indulged in the
delights that only can be had on a late summer day in the sunshine.
Molly and I were on one side of the table, and Tessa and Jake were
across from us.
"Hey, Sean," said Tessa, "I hear you're giving soccer lessons."
"Yeah," I said, "where did you hear that?"
"I heard it," said Molly. "I baby-sit for Mrs. Wilkinson sometimes,
and she asked me if I knew you."
"Wow," interrupted Toby as he hopped up onto our tabletop from his
seat. He squatted down so that he was nearly eye level with us.
"And she hired you anyway?"
We all laughed, and Tessa pushed him off our table. "Back where you
belong, Monkey Boy," she said.
"Where I belong," he said from the ground, looking up at Tessa and
batting his eyes, "is in your lap, sampling your considerable charms."
"Here, sample this," she shot back at him, flipping him the finger.
"See?" he said, turning to his companions at the other table.
"Completely and utterly charming." He shrugged and sat back down.
Everybody at both tables threw wadded up napkins at him.
"What do you know about the Wilkinsons?" I turned to Molly.
"Well, you know Davey and Kip, right?" I nodded. "They're good
boys," she continued, "but boy are they ever active. I think Mrs.
Wilkinson just has me come over so she can relax by herself for
awhile and not worry about her kids."
"She told me she was a single mom. What happened to Mr. Wilkinson?"
I asked.
"I don't know for sure," she said. "All I know is that he died, but
I don't know what happened. She really misses him, though.
Sometimes while I'm giving the boys a bath I can hear her crying in
her bedroom. It's really sad."
"Boy, I didn't know any of that. I'll have to watch my mouth," I
said.
"How often are you going over there?" asked Tessa.
"She wants me to come every day I can until school starts," I said.
"So, unless it rains or something, I'll be there just about every
afternoon for an hour or so."
"That's really great," Molly said. I felt her slide a little closer,
until our legs were just barely touching. "Creating future soccer
stars, I present to you, Sean Porter, Instructor of the Year!" She
patted me on the back. Everybody applauded, with Toby and Jake
adding whistles and cheers, while I bowed in mock humility as I sat
there.
The sun was starting to go down, and it was cooling off. We all
split up, and Jake and I rode back to his house. As we rolled up to
his driveway, Jaimie and Kayla came out of Jaimie's house. They
stopped when they saw us, and put their heads together for a moment
before coming down to us.
"Hey, Jake, you want to come over and watch TV?" asked Jaimie.
Jake looked over at me inquisitively. I gave him a small, quick nod.
"Sure," he said. He put his bike away and walked with Jaimie to her
house.
"Do you want to come in for awhile and hang out?" asked Kayla, a
small nervous smile on her face.
"Okay," I said. I propped my bike up against their garage, and Kayla
and I went into her house through the back door, and down the stairs
into the basement. Kayla deliberately left the lights off while she
turned on the television.
"Do you want something to drink?" she asked.
"Sure, anything is fine," I said.
She ran back upstairs, and was on her way back down in a few minutes
with a tray with cold sodas and glasses of ice.
We sat together on the floor, leaning against the couch, and watched
television for a few minutes while we drank our sodas. I was so
nervous I had no idea what we were watching, and I think Kayla must
have felt the same. I could hear her breathing heavily next to me.
Almost by tacit agreement, we both put down our empty glasses at the
same time and turned to look at each other. I stared into her deep
eyes for a few moments, and then put my arm around her shoulder and
pulled her to me.
We moved in slow motion as we leaned toward each other, our faces
getting closer and closer, until I tilted my head and our lips
touched softly. We pressed together harder as we kissed, until we
could no longer hold the chaste kiss we began with. Our lips opened
against each other, and our tongues met in the middle. She won the
first battle, and her tongue invaded my mouth, tasting and exploring
along my cheeks, my teeth, the roof of my mouth, and back toward my
throat. She then sucked in, drawing my tongue into her mouth, and
acquiesced as I explored her mouth, from lips to throat and cheek to
gums.
She moaned softly, and I think I did, too. I know that, without
warning, my clothes felt tight and confining. Kayla must have felt
the same, because she was reaching for the hem of my t-shirt and
pulling it up so she could run her hands on the bare skin of my chest
and back. It seemed like a good idea, so I stopped kissing her long
enough to grab the hem of her t-shirt and lift it off her, as well.
We both threw the shirts back behind us and fell back into each
other's arms, resuming our heated kisses. As I reached around her
and brought my hand up to her small breast, I kissed and licked my
way from her lips to her ear, then down her neck. I could detect her
fast pulse as I nuzzled the hollow of her soft throat. My fingers
reveled in the pliant softness of her breast, and I hefted her mound
in the palm of my hand before moving up to feel her rising nipple. I
enjoyed the feeling of her nipple filling and rising in my palm before
playing my fingertips across to her other breast and hefting it the
same way. As I palmed her other nipple, once again feeling it
expand as I held it, she pressed her chest into me, throwing her
head back in pleasure. I dropped my lips to her breast, taking the
nipple between my teeth before sucking on her tip, all the while
playing with the other small boob. She was starting to gasp for air
as the surge of pleasure moved through her nerve endings into her
brain, and I could feel her legs start to squeeze together
involuntarily as the sensations made their connection from her
breasts to her pussy.
It was enough of an invitation for me. I was young, horny, and
inexperienced, and was anxious to get to "the main event", so to
speak, rather than, as I have since learned, to enjoy the journey. I
reached for the snap of her denim shorts and pulled down the zipper
before reaching down and cupping her mound over her soaked cotton
panties. She groaned as I touched her, and she reached down and
palmed my rigid cock through my shorts, rubbing her hand up and down
my length. I worked my fingers under the elastic of her panties and
down through her sparse hair and directly into her slit, searching
for her hole. When I parted her pussy lips, I released a flood of
her moisture, coating my fingers and soaking into her panties. Her
legs jerked open, and her hips bumped up as I found her vagina and
twisted a finger into her. The constriction of her shorts, combined
with her natural tightness, prevented me from working more than half
my finger into her, so I pulled it out. She groaned in
disappointment, until she felt me tickle her as I slid up to diddle
her clit. Her hips started gyrating and her stomach muscles
twitched in sympathy, her breath was hitching in and out, and a fine
sheen of sweat had broken out on her body. She clutched at my cock
as she climbed toward her first release, and wheezed and arched as
she came.
She collapsed back against the couch, and then slid down until she
was lying on the floor. I sat up and knelt down next to her and
tugged at her shorts. She lifted up her butt so I could slide them
down, and her underwear came off with them. I unsnapped my own
shorts and pulled them off, so we could both be naked next to each
other. I lay down next to her and snaked my arm behind her neck.
She rolled over and put her head on my chest. I bent down and
kissed the top of her head while she stared, fascinated, at my still
painfully erect cock. She touched the moisture leaking out of the
tip with her fingers, and spread it around the head of my cock,
causing it to twitch in anticipation. She caressed up and down its
length, feeling how the soft skin contrasted with the hardness of
the musculature beneath, and delved down to explore my balls. My
aching cock pulsed with the beating of my heart, and her
explorations were heating me up. I ran my hand from her shoulder
down her back and onto her small ass, amazed at the smooth skin I
felt there. I reached further down, running my fingers through her
crack, until I brushed across her tiny asshole and down into her
slit from behind. She separated her legs again for me, as she
spread more of my pre-cum around with her fingers on my cock. She
grabbed me and squeezed as I fingered her pussy, and I gently pushed
her over onto her back and rolled on top of her. She spread her legs
apart, and I slid down between them, the tip of my cock resting
against her clit. I bumped my hips at her, connecting with her clit,
and she pressed up toward me, trying to increase the contact.
My cock slipped down her flooding cunt to the virginal opening of her
vagina. I felt an increase of heat and pressure as the sensitive
head of my missile was encased by the opening petals of her folds
and the silky walls of her tunnel. Suddenly she pushed up at my
hips with her hands, and said softly, "No, Sean, we can't. I don't
want to get pregnant."
I kissed her soft lips as I lifted my hips off her and whispered,
"Okay, Kayla, I'm stopping. I won't go inside you, I promise. Don't
worry, I won't do anything you don't want to do. All you have to do
is say 'Stop' and I'll stop. Trust me, Kay, I don't want to do
anything that might hurt you."
She looked at me for a moment, worry in her eyes, then nodded slowly
and said, "Okay, Sean, I trust you."
I slid down so my cock was removed from her open cunt, and took her
left breast into my mouth. My hand, at the same time, moved down her
body until I found her clit. My fingertips played with it, creating
another wave of pleasure that coursed through her. I licked and bit
first one turgid nipple, then the other, before licking my way down
her tummy. I kept on sliding down until I was resting between her
outstretched legs. My chin was on the floor as I stuck out my tongue
and ran my tip down her slit, from top to bottom, tasting her for the
first time. I tried to pay attention to the body language she was
using, repeating things that seemed to make her jump or moan, and
allowing her hands to guide my mouth to her pleasure points. While I
was lapping up her moisture and licking around her inflamed clit,
first one and then two fingers were plumbing her depths. She took me
easily, her oily wetness easing the passage of my fingers into her.
Each time I stroked into her with my two fingers, she lifted her hips
up and churned them from side to side. Her movements made my tongue
and lips rub back and forth across her sensitive tissues, which in
turn created more movement in her hips. Suddenly she screeched, and
her whole body tensed as her orgasm washed over her unexpectedly.
She grabbed my head and pulled my mouth hard onto her as she came,
then collapsed back, still holding the back of my head. I gave her
a few more licks, marveling in the taste difference as she came, and
felt her twitch each time, until finally she pulled me up to her and
hugged me to her breast as the waves of pleasure within her subsided.
I rolled off her, leaving a slimy trail of my own pre-cum across her
thigh as I lay down beside her, holding her close to me.
She sighed and opened her eyes, looking up at me with a small smile.
"That was unbelievable," she said softly. "How did you know what to
do?"
"You were guiding me," I said. "You showed me exactly what you
liked, so that's what I kept on doing."
"Well, it worked," she said. "I never thought that anyone would want
to put their mouth there, but now I understand."
With that, she bent down and touched my steely cock once again,
nearly sending me over the edge. She softly rubbed the head with her
fingertips, and looked up at me.
"Do you want me to try it?" she asked.
I groaned just thinking about it. "You might kill me if you don't,"
I said.
She smiled and looked back at what her fingers were doing. She
started to stroke me up and down, her fingers damp from my
exudations. My hips contributed to the movement as the excruciating
pleasure flowed within me. I watched as she stuck her tongue out to
taste me. When the tip of her tongue touched me, I jerked, causing
the head of my aching cock to press against her tongue and lip. She
naturally opened, allowing the head to slide between her lips, as
her tongue continued to pass around the shaft, just below the ridge.
I could feel her teeth lightly grazing along my sensitive skin as
she took more of my rigid pole into her mouth. She worked her
tongue and mouth up and down, sucking and licking, as her hand
stroked me from my balls to her lips. I knew I would not last long
as I felt the contractions start deep in my groin.
"Kayla," I squeaked with a panicky voice, "I'm going to...ahhhh..."
I never got to finish the sentence, as my orgasm hit me. I bucked
just as she was lifting off my cock, and the head slipped back into
her mouth as I creamed. Her eyes opened wide in shock when the first
wave landed in her mouth, and she jerked away from me as I
contracted, pulsed, contracted again, and spewed several streams of
cum straight up in the air. The second spurt hit her in the face
before she could move out of the way, causing her to squeak in
surprise. She kept on pumping me with her tiny fist as I came,
unconsciously milking me for all I had. She watched, amazed, as the
spurts grew steadily smaller, until I finally collapsed back,
breathless and sated. She licked her lips, cleaning off the cum
from her face with her fingers and licking them clean, as she
stroked me. I finally had to grasp her hand and stop her from
manipulating me as my cock began to shrink back.
"Wow, that was pretty spectacular," she said in wonder. "Does that
much always come out?"
"No, not always," I panted. "I guess you made me pretty horny today,
Kay."
She looked pleased with herself, but then she frowned and glanced
down.
"Sean," she said haltingly, "I'm sorry I didn't let you...you know..."
"Hey," I said, lifting up her chin and wiping stray drops of my semen
off her face, "we never have to do anything you don't want to do, you
know that."
"I know, and I want to do it, but ... I'm afraid of... you know..."
"Don't feel uncomfortable about it," I insisted. "I'm speaking from
intense personal experience here, Kay. Sure, I really, really would
like to do it with you some time, but I can wait. Especially if
you'll do what you did tonight," I said with a smile.
She giggled, and her small, delectable boobs quivered a little. I
felt my cock twitch back to life at the sight. "You did seem to
enjoy it a lot," she chuckled.
"I enjoyed it all a lot, and I think you did, too," I said as I
hugged her tightly.
She nodded in agreement as she leaned against me, and then she knelt
and began searching for her clothes.
"We'd better get dressed," she said as she turned away from me and
reached for her shirt. Her tight little ass was sticking up in the
air as she knelt there, and I just couldn't resist. I leaned over
and gave her pussy one last, long, loving lick with my tongue,
savoring her taste again.
"Mmmm," she sighed, "you really are bad for me..."
She leaned back onto me a little, enjoying the contact for just a
moment more before standing and moving away from me. She looked down
at me and saw that my dick was standing up at attention again.
"Sean, you are not to be believed!" she said. She knelt back down
and held on to my hard cock as she gave it a tender kiss, and then
stood again. "That's all for now, you bad boy. Get dressed before
my parents get home, pleeeeze?"
"Oh, all right," I sighed dejectedly. "You can't blame a poor boy
for trying, can you?"
"No, I guess I can't. If you'd like, though, you can come back
tomorrow and try again," she added with a giggle. Her words were a
little muffled, since she was pulling on her t-shirt as she was
talking.
I got slowly up and found my clothes. I got dressed without further
interruptions, and we were headed up the stairs when we heard the
back door slam.
"Hey, guys, where are you?" Jake called out.
"Right here," Kayla said as we came up the stairs. "Where have you
been?"
"Over at Jaimie's," he answered. "What have you guys been doing?"
"Oh, just fooling around," Kayla said without thinking. She turned
red when she realized what she had said, but Jake had turned toward
the refrigerator, looking for something to drink.
"That's great," he said absent-mindedly as he rummaged through the
shelves of the fridge.
I noticed that his shoes were untied, and his t-shirt was on inside
out, but decided I would save that information for another time, when
I might need the ammunition. I chuckled to myself as I headed out
the door, calling out good-byes to Kayla and Jake.
(Continued in Chapter 8)
---------------------------------------------------------------------
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
- 8 -
AT THE DRUG STORE
For the next three days, I biked over to the Wilkinson house and took
Davey and Kip to the park to work on their soccer skills. Every day
they came tumbling out of the house to meet me, and the two of them
ran nonstop until I brought them back home an hour later. Lori
Wilkinson always invited me in afterwards to have some lemonade, and
we sat at her kitchen table while the boys ran upstairs to clean up
after soccer.
Each time I took them out, I could see improvement in their skills.
They still had the attention span of young boys, but they both loved
to play soccer, and they loved kicking the ball to each other. By
the third day, we were playing a game I called Heads-Up. The three
of us were in a moving, revolving triangle, each about 20 feet from
each other, and we were constantly passing three soccer balls, first
clockwise, and then counterclockwise. The exercise kept them moving
(which they were prone to do anyway), and it helped to develop their
passing and trapping skills using both feet. By the end of the day,
they were both passing equally well with their left and their right
feet, an accomplishment that not many kids their age could claim. It
would give them a distinct advantage in their games very shortly.
The three of us dribbled our soccer balls back to the house from the
park. One of my rules for the boys was that they couldn't pick up
and carry a soccer ball. They had to dribble it wherever they went,
except for crossing a street. They were running ahead of me, then
turning and dribbling back to circle behind me before racing ahead
again, using both feet to keep the ball moving. They were both
anxious to show their mom what they had been learning, and I was very
pleased with the way they had taken to the game with such
enthusiasm. When we got to their front lawn, they both left their
soccer balls on the grass as they raced each other, both trying to
be the first to tell Lori about their progress.
"Mom! Mom! Come out and see!"
"Come out, Mom, and we'll show you what Sean's been teaching us!"
They were shouting and jumping as they hit the front door. In just a
few seconds they each had one of Lori's hands and were both pulling
her out the door.
"Watch this, Mom!" shouted Davey. "Kip, go over there, and I'll pass
it to you!"
Kip ran across the yard, and Davey kicked a pass to him with his
right foot, and took off running at a right angle. Kip neatly
stopped the pass, turned and led Davey with a pass off his left
foot. As soon as the ball left his foot, Kip started running back
to where Davey had been, ready to receive the ball back from his
brother. They wove in and out of each other's passing lanes for a
few minutes, all the time shouting out directions to each other,
proud to show off for their mother. Lori stood on the front steps,
watching her boys with a big smile.
She clapped her hands as she said, "That's great, guys. I am really
impressed!"
She turned to me and said, "You've done a truly amazing job with
these ruffians, Sean. I can't thank you enough."
"Aw, shucks, ma'am," I said in my best Southern drawl, "It twern't
nothin'."
"Well, come on in, then, sheriff, and pull up a barstool while I
serve you up some sarsaparilla," she countered as she opened the
door and led us into the house.
The boys ran and jumped up the stairs to get cleaned up while Lori
and I went into the kitchen for some lemonade. She set out a plate
of cookies and filled four glasses with ice, and poured freshly made
lemonade into two of them. She handed me a glass, and tipped hers
toward mine in a silent toast before taking a sip. She sat down next
to me at the table.
"Do you have a girlfriend, Sean?" she asked after a moment.
"Ummm...no, not really," I replied.
"I guess you know Molly O'Toole, don't you," she said almost to
herself.
"Yes, I know her and her twin brother. She was telling me that she
baby-sits for you sometimes."
"The boys just love her," she said. "She doesn't seem to mind at all
when they get rambunctious on her. She handles them beautifully."
"I know I've mentioned it before, Lori, but it's really true. Davey
and Kip are really good kids. There's no reason not to like them."
She sighed and said, "I know, but I worry anyway." She reached for
her purse on the counter and opened it. "Oh, no, I'm sorry, Sean. I
forgot to stop at the bank to get some money. Can you stop by later
tonight? Or do you have plans?"
My only plan was to see if Kayla could get away to fool around, and I
figured I could stop by here first, so I said, "Sure, I can stop by.
Or, if you want, you can just pay me tomorrow."
"Are you sure that's okay, Sean? I'd be just as happy if I could pay
you tonight."
"No, tomorrow's fine," I said. I got up to go. "But thanks, I
appreciate it. I'll see you tomorrow, Lori."
"Sean! Hey, Sean, wait up!" Josh O'Toole was jogging across the
park toward me as I rode by.
I stopped and waited for him to catch up. "Hey, Josh, what's up?"
"Not much," he said, trying to catch his breath. "I was thinking
about going over to Lehigh Drugs. Come on along with me, won't you?"
I shrugged. "Sure, why not? What are you getting there?"
He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "Condoms," he said.
"Shayna wants to do it with me, but I've got to get condoms first."
"Wow," I said. "That's a big step, dude. When are you going to do
her?"
"That I don't know yet," he said. "We were fooling around last
night, over at my house, and she says she thinks she's ready. I
tell you, Sean, I nearly popped a nut on her right then and there,
when she said that."
"Yeah, I'll bet," I said. "Then what happened?"
"Well, we're laying there on the floor, and I've got my hand down her
pants doing the stinkfinger thing, and she comes out with this right
as I'm trying to get her off, you know? And she's getting all
squirmy and all, and she starts to cum all over my hand, and then
she goes, 'Yes, yes, I'm ready', and starts calling my name, you
know? Well, I thought she meant right then she was ready, so I
tried to get her clothes off, but she pushes me away and won't even
get me off or nothing, you know? She's really in a huff now, thinks
I'm just trying to do her when she's, what did she call it? Oh,
yeah, 'In A Weak Moment', she called it. I could almost hear the
capital letters on the words, you know? Anyway, she says nothing
doing, until I get us some protection, and until I do, it's no go for
anything. No frenching, no tittie, no nothing until I can prove to
her that I really love her or something, I guess."
"So, you're going down to the drug store to get some rubbers, and
that's supposed to prove that you love her? That doesn't make any
sense, Josh."
"Aw, hell, don't I know it. She's a chick, man, and that means she's
confusing. All I know is that my first mission is to pick up some
condoms so that the next time she says she's ready, and who knows
when that will be, you know what I mean? Anyway, the next time she
says she's ready, I'll be ready."
"That's really fucked up, Josh."
"Hey, it's not my logic, dude. You want to come along? I don't want
to stand in that cashier line by myself holding a box of Trojans, you
know? I could use the moral support. How about it?"
I was thinking about Kayla, and how we would never be able to do it
ourselves without protection, and this was a perfect opportunity to
supply myself. I, too, had not been looking forward to purchasing my
first box of condoms by myself. Now, with Josh along, I wouldn't
have to.
"Yeah, okay, I'll come along. Why not?" I said.
We had to go past my house to get to the drug store, so we dropped
off my bike on the way and walked over a couple of blocks to the
shopping center. When we got there, we were confronted with a
dizzying array of prophylactics in the back of the store.
"Shit, man, what do we get?" complained Josh. "I just thought we'd
be able to come in here, grab a boxful, and take off again. Why are
there so many choices?"
"I don't know. Lubricated, non-lubricated, ribbed, ultra-
thin...what's this? FLAVORED condoms?!?" I picked up a box.
A grown-up's voice from behind us startled us, and I dropped the box
of condoms I had been holding.
"Hello, boys, can I help you with anything?"
I spun around in surprise, and my jaw nearly hit the floor. It was
Mr. Lehigh, the owner of the drug store, and Jake and Kayla's father.
"Why, hello, Sean, I didn't expect it to be you here in the birth
control aisle. Hello, Josh. Well, boys, I take it you are
anticipating some adventures, right?" he said with a smile.
"Well...umm...just trying to be prepared, Mr. Lehigh," stammered Josh
lamely. His face was bright red with embarrassment.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Josh, being here. It's a wise young
man, these days, who thinks first about these things, instead of
getting carried away in the moment, if you know what I mean," said
Mr. Lehigh. "Now," he continued, "since this seems to be your first
purchase, let me help you out. Try a box of these and see how you
like them." He took a box of standard, lubricated condoms off the
shelf and handed them to Josh. "You can always experiment with other
options the next time around, but these are good, basic items that
will give you the protection you want while you learn how to use and
enjoy them."
"Uh, that's great, Mr. Lehigh. Thanks a lot for your help," said
Josh.
"You're welcome, Josh. Any other questions, boys? Sean, are you
getting some of these, too?"
"Ummm...yeah, maybe I will. Thanks, Mr. Lehigh," I said.
He handed me a 12-pack like Josh's, then casually waved and moved off
to wander the aisles, looking for customers with questions. I
watched him walk away, and couldn't help wondering if he would have
been so helpful if he had known that it was his own 13-year-old
daughter who would be helping me to use these condoms up. Somehow I
didn't think so.
Josh and I paid for our purchases and walked out the door, relieved
to be hiding our stuff in plain brown paper bags, just in case we ran
into any more parents we knew.
(Continued in Chapter 9)
---------------------------------------------------------------------
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
- 9 -
BEING PREPARED
It turned out that I was wrong about something else that afternoon,
too, since it wasn't Kayla that I was with when I opened up my first
condom.
Josh and I went back over to his house after we left the drug store.
We went upstairs to look for a good hiding place for his rubbers,
someplace neither his parents nor his sisters would look. He finally
decided to open up the box and hide the packets in some of his balled-
up socks in the back of his underwear drawer. He also tucked two
into his wallet. "For emergencies," he pronounced seriously.
"Emergencies!" I howled, and laughed until I cried. "At least I know
who I can come to in case of emergency," I said, wiping tears from my
eyes.
"Hey, you guys," came a voice from the doorway. "What's so funny in
there?" Josh's twin sister Molly stuck her head in the room. "Hi,
Sean. What are you guys laughing so hard about?"
"Nothing," grumbled Josh. "Just some guy stuff you wouldn't
understand."
"Guy stuff? That sounds like a convenient excuse just to not even
try to explain," said Molly with a grimace. "Come on, give it up.
What are you guys doing?" She stepped into the room and stared us
both down. She was dressed in a halter-top and shorts that left her
midriff bare. Why is it that a bare midriff on a fit, young female
is such an aphrodisiac? I couldn't stop looking at her.
To compensate for my suddenly tight shorts, I sat down on the bed and
crossed my arms and openly stared at her.
"Christ, Molly, why is it that only girls can have secret stuff to
talk about? Sean and I were just bullshitting. Really. We weren't
talking about anything in particular."
"Yeah, right," she replied sarcastically. "Just bullshitting. Well,
I know that's what you're doing now, to me, anyway."
I decided that I would let the two stubborn Irish kids butt heads for
a while. No sense sticking my nose in and getting it bent, I thought
as I sat back to enjoy the fireworks.
I had known both Josh and Molly since about the second grade, and
they both had flashpoint tempers that could go off at any time.
Both, however, were just as quick to get over it, and to the best of
my knowledge neither of them had ever carried a grudge away from any
argument they had been a part of. Their fiercest fights were with
each other, as was to be expected of brothers and sisters. But they
also were the first to jump to each other's defense if someone else
was involved. It was a little complicated for a dumb jock like me to
figure out, so I usually let these things run their course with no
interference. I figured that if I kept my mouth shut, I couldn't get
into any trouble saying the wrong thing. It worked more often than
not for me, and it worked this time, too.
Besides, just sitting and watching Molly while she was otherwise
occupied was pleasure enough for me.
So there I sat, not paying any attention to what was being said,
letting their voices wash over me while I contentedly watched Molly's
skin flush with anger, when she suddenly reached out and grabbed the
paper sack that held my purchase from the floor.
"Hey!" I shouted, reaching for the bag a fraction too slowly. Molly
opened the bag and looked in, just out of my reach.
"And what do we have here?" she murmured as she pulled out the box of
condoms. "Why, Sean, you little devil. Are these yours?" She
looked at me coyly, with a big smile on her face.
"Sure," I said as bravely as I could. "They're mine. Of course
they're mine. Whose else would they be?" I sat back down again,
feigning indifference that she had found them.
She looked at the sales receipt, and broke into a wide grin. "Well,
well. It seems that you got these today, according to this receipt.
And less than an hour ago, too." She put the receipt back in the bag
and examined the box. "Hmmm...lubricated...medium...box of 12..."
She looked up at me, a gleam in her eyes. "How long do you think
it's going to take you to use a dozen of these things? Or is this
your yearly supply?"
I stood and grabbed the box out of her hands and roughly shoved it
back into the bag. "Very funny, Moll. A year's supply, huh."
"Wait a minute!" she cried suddenly. "Now I understand! Josh, you
are a sneaky one. If Sean just bought these, that means that you got
some too, didn't you?" She walked over to his dresser and started
opening drawers to search for them. "Where are they? Come on, Josh,
show me."
Josh ran over and shoved his dresser drawers closed. "Cut it out,
Molly," he said.
"I know you've got them here, Josh. Just show me where, I promise I
won't tell anybody." She looked over at me, and moved toward me and
leaned down to grab my hand to pull me up. "Come on, Sean, show me
where he's keeping them."
I resisted, making her pull a little harder. Her halter top gapped
at the top while she was bent toward me, giving me just the briefest
glimpse of the pale shadow of her tan line at her breasts before the
material tightened against her again as she pulled. She couldn't
pull me up, so she dropped to her knees and clasped my hand to her
bosom and batted her eyes at me. "Please, Sean? Show me? As a
favor to me?"
A lot of evil thoughts played themselves out in my mind at her words
as she clutched my hand to the swells of her chest. She was making
it hard to think straight. I distractedly noticed that the tops of
her tanned thighs were very lightly freckled.
"Molly, let him go. All right, I'll show you. Christ, but you're a
pain sometimes," grumbled Josh.
Molly jumped up with a squeal, and hopped over to Josh as he opened
his socks drawer. "They're right here," he said as he unrolled a
pair of his socks. Four packets tumbled out, and Molly picked them
up.
"Neat!" she cried as she turned the packet over. "How do these
things go on?" she asked, almost to herself.
"Well, I'm certainly not going to show you!" huffed Josh, a shocked
look on his face.
"I wasn't talking to you, brother mine," said Molly, punching him in
the arm. "I was speaking hypothetically, anyway. I don't want you
to SHOW me, for God's sake."
"Oh," mumbled Josh. "Sorry. Well, you just roll it on, I guess."
"I guess," said Molly quietly as she examined the packet. "So," she
said as she tucked the packets back into Josh's sock, "you think
Shayna's ready for this?"
Josh shut his dresser drawer and sat down on the bed next to me.
Molly sat down on my other side and leaned back on her arms so she
could to talk to Josh.
"She says she is," Josh said. "I just want to have everything set,
anyway."
"Just like a Boy Scout, right? 'Be Prepared'. Who are you prepared
for, Sean? I didn't know you were going out with anyone."
"I'm not going out with anyone," I said. "But it never hurts to be
at the ready, does it?"
"Well," she said almost to herself, "I guess not. It's just that I
don't know if I will ever find anybody to be ready for."
"What's the matter, Molly, your love life got you down?" Josh didn't
sound very sympathetic.
"What love life? I don't have one. I've never had one. I probably
never will have one." With that, she shoved herself up and walked
dejectedly out of the room.
"What's up with her?" I asked. "What did she mean by that?"
"Aw, she's just upset because she's never been out on a date, or
anything. She sees me with Shayna, and she thinks something's wrong
with her because no boy's ever asked her out or anything."
"You're kidding. She's drop-dead gorgeous, and she's never gone
out? That's pretty strange."
"It's true, though. I get guys asking me all the time about her, but
I guess they're just too shy or something to call her. She gets
depressed about it sometimes, that's all."
"Wow, I never would have thought it. You just sort of assume that
the really pretty ones are always out on dates, and chasing them away
with a stick. Hey, but what about Heather?"
"Oh, Heather's a different story. She's been going out with Evan
ever since sophomore year. I think that bothers Molly, too, that
Heather found a boyfriend she's kept all this time while Molly has
never had the opportunity."
"Man, I'm blown away. I never would have guessed."
"Hey, Sean, why don't you ask her out? I know she likes you."
"Oh, man, I don't know..."
"Yeah, go ahead. You two would get along fine," Josh said. "Just
don't let me hear that you're planning on using these things on her,
okay?" he added, kicking at my sack of condoms. "She is my sister,
after all."
"Okay, Josh, I'll think about it. Calling her, I mean."
"No, man, don't call her. Do it now. Go down and knock on her door
and talk to her."
"Now? I don't think so. What if she says no? I'd rather do it on
the phone."
Josh looked disgusted. "What a chickenshit. Go, Sean. Knock on her
door and just talk to her for a little bit. I've got to call Shayna
anyway, so while I'm on the phone, just go say hi to her."
He left the room to call his girlfriend, leaving me alone and nervous
about talking to Molly. Finally I decided that I really had nothing
to lose by going down and just saying hello, so I left Josh's room
and went down the hall to Molly's room and knocked on the door.
I heard her muffled voice call out. "What do you want, Josh?"
"Um...it's me, Sean. Josh went downstairs to call Shayna."
The door opened just a crack. "Oh, hi. What's up?" Molly asked.
"Uh, nothing...I just thought I'd come down and see what was up with
you while Josh was on the phone."
"Sure, okay," she said, opening the door. "Come on in."
I walked into her room and automatically looked at her window. The
blinds were up, and I could see the tree I had been in at the back of
their yard. "Look, Molly, I'm sorry if Josh or I said anything to
get you upset," I started.
"No, no," she interrupted, "it's not anything you guys said. Well,
not anything you said, anyway, Sean. Josh just knows which buttons
to push, though, and he loves pushing them. But don't worry about
me. He's got buttons I know how to push, too."
I laughed, and she smiled at me.
"Hey, Sean, I'm babysitting over at the Wilkinsons tonight. You want
to come over and watch TV with the boys and me?" she asked.
"Okay, sure. What time?"
"Come over about 7:30 or so. The boys will still be up, and we can
goof around with them for a little before they have to go to sleep.
Mrs. Wilkinson will be out until about 10:00."
"Okay," I said. I got up to go find Josh again, mentally shaking my
head. Now why were you getting all worked up and nervous for
nothing, I thought to myself. Sometimes life takes a right turn on
you, just when you thought you were looking at a nice, straight road
to travel.
(Continued in Chapter 10)
---------------------------------------------------------------------
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
- 10 -
THE BABYSITTER
So there I was, ringing the doorbell at the Wilkinson house at 7:30
sharp. I was freshly showered, and I had shaved off the peach fuzz
from my chin, and thought I looked presentable enough in my Chicago
Fire jersey. When I rang the bell, I heard the pounding of small,
active feet running inside, and the door flew open. Davey and Kip
flew out and tried to gang-tackle me on the front steps, and very
nearly succeeded before Molly came out to rescue me.
"Davey! Kip! You're going to tear him in two! If you will just let
him go for a second, he'll come in and play," she said laughingly.
"Sean! I didn't know you were coming over!" "Sean! We're making
popcorn! Come in, come in!"
I let them pull me into the house, and we stumbled into the family
room. They were getting ready to watch a movie called "The Bad News
Bears", and I could smell popcorn popping in the microwave. The boys
jumped onto the couch, Molly went into the kitchen to get drinks for
everybody and bowls for the popcorn while I slipped the tape into the
VCR. Kip and Davey were fighting for supremacy over one of the
pillows on the couch, until I finally took it away from them both and
plopped down on the floor with it. Molly came in with a big bowl of
steaming hot popcorn on a platter, and with four glasses of ice and
four cans of soda. The boys each settled into a corner of the couch,
and Molly and I sat next to each other on the floor, leaning back
against the sofa. I pushed the button on the remote, and the movie
started as we dug in and devoured the entire bowl of popcorn.
After about 45 minutes, I stopped the movie so the boys could get
ready for bed. We promised them that they could watch the rest of it
with us, as long as they brushed their teeth and put on their pajamas.
They raced each other to see who could be the fastest, and Davey,
being a year older, ran down the stairs first, reclaiming his corner
of the couch. Kip was right behind him, and when they both were
settled, I started the movie back up. While the boys were getting
ready for bed, Molly and I cleaned up the spilled popcorn and carried
the dirty dishes and glasses into the kitchen and rinsed everything
off. When the boys came back down, Molly and I sat back down on the
floor, our knees and shoulders just touching. By the time the movie
ended, Molly had her head resting on my shoulder, my arm was draped
around her, and the boys were fast asleep on the couch. We shook
them gently awake, and Molly and I each accompanied one boy up the
stairs and into their bed, tucking them in and turning out the
light. We shut their doors and went back downstairs to the family
room.
We found a dark, black and white movie from the thirties on a
channel, and let that play as we sat back down on the floor. I was
suddenly very nervous again, unsure of what to do with my arms or
hands. Molly turned toward me, looking into my eyes, and I could
see that she was just as nervous as I. Oddly, this had a calming
effect on me, and I put my arm around her shoulder. She naturally,
almost unconsciously, moved closer to me, her face tilted up to me. I
lowered my lips to touch hers lightly, softly. Our first kiss was a
tender, evanescent moment, experienced by both of us with our eyes
wide open, watching each other. Finding no resistance on either
part, we kissed again, and I savored the fleshy, soft feel of her
lips. She reached around to my neck and held me, turning a little
more into me, and I reached around her waist with my other hand and
held her lightly, undemanding as we kissed, the ghostly images of
the old movie on the television playing across our bodies.
We stayed like that for a long time, kissing and nibbling and tasting
each other as we hugged, warming slowly and steadily, until we heard
a car pull into the driveway. Startled like two deer stranded on the
side of a highway, we stared out the window, still clutched together,
until the slamming of a car door shook us from our frozen state. We
scrambled up, both secretly grateful that we hadn't gotten too
carried away in the moment, and moved to more chaste positions in
the family room, ready for Lori to come in the house.
The back door opened, and Lori called out.
"Molly? I'm home."
"Hi, Mrs. Wilkinson," Molly said as she got up and walked toward the
kitchen.
Lori stepped into the doorway, and saw me just as I was getting up
from a chair. "Sean! I didn't know you were here."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Wilkinson," said Molly. "I should have told you,
but I invited Sean over to watch TV with us. I hope it's all right.
I know how much the boys like him, so I thought..."
"No, Molly, it's fine, I don't mind. I just wasn't expecting to find
him here, that's all. Sean, of course you are welcome anytime," she
said, looking at me. "Did you have a good evening?"
"Yes, we did," I said. "We watched 'The Bad News Bears' until Davey
and Kip fell asleep. They'll probably be dreaming of baseball and
popcorn all night."
"Just as long as they stay dreaming all night," said Lori with a
small smile. "I hope they decide to sleep in tomorrow morning, so I
can get some rest." She looked around the room absent-mindedly.
"Grab your things, and I'll give you both a lift home."
"Oh, no, that's okay, Lori. I've got my bike here, so I'll just ride
home," I said.
"And I live on the way, so I'll just walk with Sean, if that's all
right," Molly added.
"Are you sure? I really don't mind driving you."
"No," we both echoed. "We'll be just fine," I added as we headed for
the door. "Good night, Lori. Hope you're able to sleep in tomorrow."
Molly and I stepped outside. I picked up my bicycle, and we walked
down the sidewalk, aware that Lori Wilkinson was watching us until we
rounded a corner and moved out of her sight.
We walked slowly toward Molly's house, reluctant to part company. We
talked quietly about the upcoming school year, about soccer, about
nothing. When we stopped in her driveway, her house was dark.
"It doesn't look like anybody's home," I said.
"I guess not. Heather had a date, and Mom and Dad were going out
with some friends, but I thought Josh would be home."
"Maybe he's over at Shayna's," I said.
"Maybe," she said. She looked over at me. "Do you have to go home
right away? Or can you come in for a little while?"
"No, I can stay for a little," I said, and I set my bike down on the
ground. Molly held my hand as we walked around to the back door and
went in to her house. Her palms were sweaty, and I could feel just
the faintest tremor in her hand.
"We can go upstairs and listen to some music," she said quietly as
she led me through the darkened house. We walked down the hall to
her room. She opened the door, but didn't turn on the light.
Instead, she turned on the light in the closet and closed the door
until just a sliver of light came through, keeping the room dim.
She walked back to me, and unhesitatingly stepped close to me. She
was only a couple of inches shorter than me, so she didn't have to
raise herself up very far to put her arms around my neck and press
herself close to me. I could feel the soft bulges of her breasts,
and the sharp tips of her engorged nipples, against my chest. As I
put my arms around her waist and pulled her close, I felt my cock
rise and press against her between her legs. She felt it too, and
pressed herself harder to me, opening her legs slightly and trapping
me so that the pressure of my erection rubbed against her cunt as it
rose and throbbed.
Our lips came together, but this was no chaste kiss. Our mouths were
open, and our tongues snaked out to meet in a wet, sucking, high-
pressure contact. I heard a moan, but I couldn't tell if it came
from me or from Molly, nor did it really matter. We were both too
wrapped up in our sudden incendiary feelings to care much beyond the
immediate.
Her hips started moving of their own volition, side to side, creating
exquisite contact at our most sensitive places. I was clutching her
to me so hard her breasts were squashed against me, but that slight
pain only increased the release of heat and moisture in her center.
I could feel her soft hair brushing against my arms and hands as her
head moved during our kisses. The combination of sensory signals
racing through me created a nearly unbearable pressure in my chest
and solar plexus, and animated itself in the throbbing of my
painfully hard cock, still trapped between her legs.
Nearly simultaneously, she grabbed at the hem of my jersey while I
found the buttons on the back of her halter-top. She pulled my
jersey up and off as I raised my arms, and then she reached behind
her and practically ripped her own top off, bra and all. Even in
the dim light, just before she clutched me to her again, I could see
a light pattern of freckles across her chest and down onto her
lovely breasts. She pushed me back, forcing me to step backwards
until I felt the edge of her bed against my knees. I sat down when
she pushed, and she kept on coming, forcing me onto my back with her
on top of me, her lips once more searching for mine. I held on to
her with one arm around her, and my other hand moved to grasp her
boob and pinch her turgid nipple. That time I knew that it was
Molly who moaned, for her reaction was to reach down and roughly
clutch at my straining cock, grabbing it through my shorts and
pumping her hand up and down.
She was an animal, out of control, and was not to be denied in her
quest toward satisfaction. I didn't know if it was because she liked
me, or if it was just a case of being in the right place at the right
time, but the moment she grabbed my aching cock, my mind quit
functioning rationally, so the momentary pondering of such a question
was no longer possible. I surrendered to the sensations we were both
experiencing, cause and effect. If I pinched this swollen nipple,
like this, the reaction was an increase in pressure of her hand on my
cock. Or, if I ran my hand down her back and under her shorts to
feel the globes of her ass, the reaction might be demonstrated by a
more insistent presence of her tongue into my willing mouth. Cause
and effect, action and reaction.
At one point, she finally lifted her face from mine, sat up, and
grabbed my shorts and pulled them from my body. Only after I was
naked did she stand up and yank her own shorts down and off, pulling
down with them her soaked panties. She picked up her shorts, reached
into a pocket, and withdrew a small, familiar looking packet, and
tore it open.
"I stole this from Josh this afternoon," she said seriously. "I
wanted to see how it worked. Now's a good time to find out."
With that, she took out the condom, placed it on the leaking end of
my cock, and rolled it down. I involuntarily spread my legs a
little as she was fitting me, and she bent over me, examining me as
she put the condom on my cock. She caressed my balls, sending
thrills of pleasure rocketing up my nerves and into my brain.
With virtually no preliminaries, she straddled me, grabbed my cock,
and rubbed it back and forth across her flowered pussy lips. When
the tip brushed up against and across her extended clit, she paused,
throwing her head back in sensual pleasure. I grabbed her by her
waist and ran both hands up her body to her tight breasts. The
combined assault on her nipples and her clit was enough to send her
over the edge. She whined, her breathy exhalation climbing the
register until it disappeared, and I felt a rush of moisture on my
crotch and balls as she came.
She wanted more, however. Once her first orgasm passed, while she
was still clutching my throbbing cock, she rubbed herself again, back
and forth, clit to vagina, spreading moisture across the sensitive
tip of my cock. Finally, she settled onto me, allowing the head to
nest at the entrance to her virginal opening. She paused with just
the tip within her, getting used to the feeling, and placed her
hands on my ribcage for balance. My hands slipped down to her waist
to rest on the flare of her hips. I could feel the intense heat
coming from within her, centered on the tip of my dick.
Fortunately, the condom had desensitized me, or I probably would
have gone off by now. I was watching her face, and I could see she
was biting her lower lip, her eyes glazed, as she concentrated on
her mission. She sat up slightly, and flexed her legs. Her torso
dropped, and she impaled herself upon me.
I had felt the unique pressures of a mouth around my cock before, and
had marveled at the experience, but nothing could have prepared me
for the first time I was nestled inside a girl's vagina. I knew, in
that final second when Molly's body was sliding smoothly over my
instrument, that I had found my own personal source of true happiness.
All I had to do was figure out how to do this over and over.
For her part, Molly looked like she had found her own source of
pleasure, also. Her eyes opened wide, unseeing, as she slid down
upon me that first time, and she broke out in a huge grin when she
felt her cunt being filled with my warm presence. Her eyes focused,
and she looked at me, still grinning, as I bottomed out in her. She
paused and sat up, her tight ass resting on my thighs and her hands
on my waist as she balanced on my pole. We both looked down to
where we were connected. Her gash was exposed and drooling, her
clitoris was poking out, and our sparse pubic hair, mine dark and
hers reddish, were intertwined. I could not see my cock, but I
surely knew where it was from the feel. She was impressively tight,
and the environment I could feel through the latex was boiling hot
and wet.
"No cherry," she whispered. "Gymnastics and cheerleading must have
broken it."
"Umph," was all I could manage to say. All other thoughts, all
existence outside of pure sensation centered on where we were
attached, was not possible.
She moved. Slowly, excruciatingly, she lifted up, up, until just the
helmet of my cock was buried in her. Then down, slowly, she allowed
herself to return. Each time she lifted up, each time she buried me
again, created a friction I did not think was possible. Faster she
moved, sometimes just a little, sometimes all the way. The oils from
her cunt kept lubricating us, allowing her to improvise her movements
in such a constricting atmosphere. A couple of times she rose up so
fast, I popped out of her, my rigid dick flopping down on my belly
and bouncing back up. She would grab hold of it with her fist,
position it back at her opening, and pound back down upon me until
our pelvic bones met.
And then, suddenly, it was time. "M...M...Molly" I stammered.
Without volition I shoved my hips up as she was descending, until
was buried in her at my deepest. She collapsed down on me, blindly
reaching with her mouth to find mine, then grinding her lips against
mine just as she was grinding her clit against my crotch. She
screamed into my mouth as she came, and my balls pumped and flexed,
pumped and flexed until the condom was filled practically to
overflowing, each jerk of mine matched by a flexion of her hips
against me to drive me as deeply into her as possible in an attempt
to prolong the sensations of our orgasms.
I hugged her to me as tightly as I could, and we broke our kiss so we
could breathe again. Her whole body collapsed like a rag doll, and
she rested her head against me. Her back was sweaty with her
exertions, as was her forehead, and her strawberry blonde hair was
sticking to her. All in all, I had never seen her more beautiful.
She lifted up her hips, and my deflating cock slipped from her. She
lay back on her side next to me, her arm around my chest, as she came
down from her orgasms.
"Mmmmm..." she hummed, "if I had known this is what it all was about,
I'd have found you a lot sooner."
I kissed her forehead. "It was pretty spectacular, wasn't it? I
really didn't know what to expect, either."
She looked at me, a little startled. "You've never done this before,
either?" she asked.
"No, not this," I admitted. She nestled back down against my side,
purring in her contentment.
"I'm glad it was with you," she said quietly. "And I'm glad your
first was with me. It makes things even better."
My eyelids were getting very heavy. Just as I slipped off to sleep,
I briefly wondered if Jake was up in the tree outside, watching.
It seemed like just moments later when I was awakened by a sudden
noise. I looked up, momentarily confused about where I was, until I
felt Molly's naked body next to mine.
"Oh, shit," I mumbled, looking desperately for a clock. It was after
midnight. I could hear mumbled voices downstairs. I shook Molly,
waking her, and motioned for her to be quiet. Her eyes were big and
round, and she looked scared, as she realized where we were. Her
bedspread was rumpled, and there was a huge wet spot on it. The room
reeked of sex, her scent and mine commingled. She slipped out of bed
and locked her door, then came back over to lie next to me.
"Stay quiet," she whispered in my ear. "When they've gone to bed,
I'll help you sneak out of the house."
We huddled together for what seemed like hours, knowing we were going
to be caught. Somehow, we weren't. We heard footsteps tromping up
the stairs and down the hall, and then the house was quiet. We
waited another thirty minutes before getting dressed, sneaking out
her room, down the stairs, and out the back door. As I stepped
outside into the cool night air, Molly grabbed my arm and pulled me
back. She gave me a hard kiss, and whispered into my ear, "I love
you, Sean." She whirled and closed the door before I could react.
I walked my bike through her neighbor's back yards before venturing
out onto the street. I hoped I could sneak into my own house as
easily as I snuck out of Molly's. Meanwhile, my mind whirled with
distractions, images of a blonde 13-year-old intertwining with images
of Molly, sweat-slicked at my side, in post-coital languor.
(Continued in Chapter 11)
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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