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Subject: {ASSM} -NEW- Playing the Game II, Playing to Win, Ch. 41 (Conclusion) by Rev. Cotton Mather
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And now, the concluding chapter of Book II.
Enjoy!
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Welcome to the Church of The Reverend Cotton Mather. This
story is the sole property of the author, and may not be copied or
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 2003, Rev. Cotton Mather)
E-Mail all comments to RevCottonMather@hotmail.com
Don't be shy! I enjoy hearing from you.
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PLAYING TO WIN:
PLAYING THE GAME, BOOK II
by Reverend Cotton Mather
- 41 -
POINTS OF THE COMPASS: NORTH AND SOUTH
The next few weeks were the most hectic of my life. We were on the
home stretch toward graduation, and the pace was picking up.
Two weeks after Prom, there was a banquet scheduled for the athletes
who competed on all the school teams. It was held in a large banquet
hall, and there were about a thousand people in attendance, students
and families, coaches and administrators. The Athletic Banquet was
one of the highlights of the school year, because it was the only
time all the teams were assembled in one place, and because it
heralded the end of the school year.
My sophomore year, my family and I had attended the banquet, and I
had watched as Dr. Osgood and Coach Neville solemnly retired Skip
Horvath's soccer jersey. Now, this year, I stood with these same two
men at the podium, and observed them, both in much better moods than
that other, sadder time, as they retired Sean Porter's jersey.
Nobody else would ever wear my Number 20 for our school on the soccer
field. There was generous applause from the crowd, and raucous
cheering from my teammates as Coach showed off the glass-encased
jersey, with my name arced on the back, that would be put in a place
of honor on the wall of the school, the trophy cases on one side and
Skip's jersey on the other. It was only then that it finally hit
home: I would never again wear the uniform of my high school team.
Two weeks after the banquet was graduation, in all its pomp and
circumstance. We all lined up in the gymnasium, dressed in our caps
and gowns, and marched two-by-two out into the football stadium,
where our families were roasting in the hot sun. We listened to a
bunch of boring speeches, the words buzzing in and out of our ears
without ever landing coherently. It was excruciatingly dull and
long, until, quite suddenly, it was time to toss our caps into the
air. And, just like that, our high school careers were over.
Concurrently with all these activities, life within the Porter
family unit was in turmoil. Stephen's involvement with Tara and the
baby continued unabated, so much so that I really did start thinking
I was little Kyle's uncle. My mom insisted on helping Tara and Mrs.
Jacks plan for Kyle's baptism, working on menus and guest lists as if
the baptism were a dress rehearsal for a wedding. And, in a way, I
suppose that's what it was. Stephen, Tara and the baby were together
as much as they could be, splitting their time between our house and
Tara's house. While they were at our house, my mom would watch Kyle,
and Tara and Stephen would go over Stephen's homework. They did the
same thing over at the Jacks house, too, I knew.
Tara wanted to try to take the finals of any classes she could.
Some of her teachers were supportive, no doubt having gotten reports
of her progress from her parents. Stephen and Tracy made sure Tara's
homework assignments got handed in on time, so the only thing she was
missing were scores on classroom quizzes.
The teachers at school also saw a marked improvement in Stephen's
grades. Working with Tara on schoolwork paid dividends for him, too,
and seeing this improvement made many of their teachers much more
willing to give Tara an opportunity to move on to tenth grade with
the rest of her class.
And, just to make sure I had absolutely no time for anything at all,
my summer soccer camps filled to overflowing. All during May I was
scrambling around, recruiting more instructors for the clinics. I
called my friend and former adversary, Spencer Goldman, and invited
him to join us. I also got in touch with a girl I had met at Duane
Olchick's clinic who had impressed me with her play. Posey Smith was
from Meadowdale, had been an All-State selection all four years of
high school, and was chosen as a second-team All-American her senior
year.
Hap Olson, the starting center midfielder on our team, had been
enrolled as a student for my summer clinic, but I persuaded him to
join my staff as an instructor. His play had matured so much during
our season, I knew he would be able to relate to what the competitive
kids were trying to accomplish.
Brett Oldman, our stopper, also signed on, as did Anthony Rogers, so
I was well represented on the defensive side. The only real gap in
my instructor coverage was in the middle positions.
One day after school, I was shooting the shit with Eric and Keisha.
Luscious was in the library, and I was waiting for her to come out.
I told Eric about my plan for the camps.
"Man, you gonna be one overworked sorry excuse for a defenseman by
the time you get to Florida," said Eric. He didn't sound all that
sympathetic, however.
"Yeah, well, I think I've got most of the spots filled. I just wish
we were a little better represented in the middle," I said.
Keisha was leaning with both her arms on Eric's shoulder, looking
bored with our soccer talk. "Why don't you hire on that Weasel kid?"
she said.
Eric glanced at her in surprise. "That's a good idea, babe," he said.
"It is?" I asked.
"Sure," said Eric. "You've said yourself that Weasel's a good
player, he just needed some calming down."
"True," I admitted.
"He played just like we wanted him to, all through the playoffs," he
pointed out.
"Again, true," I said.
"He got the game ball in the finals," Keisha reminded me.
"You're right. He's good. You think he'd do it?"
"Ask him and see," said Eric.
I called Adam that night, and just like that, my team of instructors
increased to ten members.
Once I had that nailed down, I could work on scheduling the groups
and organizing my worksheets. Once the news got out among the soccer-
playing crowd that my summer clinics would be instructed by two All-
Americans, three All-Staters, and the core of the state championship
team, the telephone began ringing off the hook. Parents from all
over the metro area were calling to see if they could enroll their
kids. I took as many of them as I could, until there just wasn't any
more room or time slots available.
Trent and Danielle were back for the summer by mid-May, and they
helped me get ready. It quickly became apparent to me that I needed
a hierarchy to make it all work, so Trent and Eric became my senior
instructors, and the other instructors would work for them.
My dad and Mr. Lehigh both gave me some help and suggestions as I
was setting it all up. Mr. Lehigh helped me open a checking account
at his bank for my school, and he gave both Danielle and me some
basic accounting instruction. Danielle had worked a couple of
summers as an assistant bookkeeper for a small construction company,
and she became my bookkeeper and office manager. We set up a small
office in our basement, with a desk, a calculator, and a file
cabinet, and Danielle spent a lot of time down there with me as we
geared up. After the first couple of weeks, we were confident that
she would be able to keep up with her end of things by coming over
two or three times each week, spending maybe ten hours working on my
stuff.
As it turned out, my brand-new organization, facetiously called Sean
Porter Enterprises, created more spare time for me than I had the
previous summer. We had a lot of drills and scrimmage plans that we
had painstakingly created that first year that we were reusing.
Posey and Spencer brought new drills with them that we were able to
incorporate, and Trent also brought some new ideas from his first
year playing at the college level that we could use, especially with
the competitive groups. With Danielle keeping the paperwork
straight, and Trent and Eric moving the instructors around as needed,
I actually had less to do than before.
I rented a tent that I could open up the sides on, and set it up on
the sidelines between the fields we were using. I had a cooler that
I filled with ice and stocked with water and sodas every morning for
the instructors, and I had a card table with folding chairs. I was
able to spend my day observing the kids, making notes about each of
them, and dropping in to help the instructors. I could pull one or
more kids out of practice so I could work with them on a more
individual basis, and I still had the time to organize my notes from
each day. That first year, all that paperwork had to be done after
the day on the field was over, but now, with more instructors and
better lines of communication, I could get that work done during the
clinics. It was less work and more fun for me, and the instructors
seemed to work well under the new organization, too.
By the end of June, Spencer and Posey had fit right in with my local
friends, and we were all enjoying our summer outside, teaching the
game we all loved so much. All month long, I kept on getting calls
from all over, asking about openings. Some callers even were willing
to enroll for a week or two, if any of our campers were headed out on
vacation. The way we had our drills set up, working on progressively
more difficult skill sets based on proficiency in earlier practices,
I didn't feel that it would be fair to anybody if I agreed to plug in
players for just a short time, so I turned them all down. It did get
me thinking about setting up clinics beyond our own little community,
however. During one of our weekly meetings, I broached the
possibility of branching out to my management team. Danielle, Trent
and Eric were surprised that I was thinking ahead already, but they
thought the idea was workable. I made a note to talk to some of the
others about the possibility.
The Fourth of July that year fell on a Monday, so we all got a nice,
long weekend out of the holiday. Kayla had to work at the drug store
on Saturday, but she had Sunday and Monday off, and we spent both
days at the beach, being lazy with friends. We staked off a section
of beach for ourselves, and people would wander in and out as they
wished, with at least a couple of people manning the barricades all
day long. Usually, Eric and Keisha were there with us, and Trent and
Danielle joined us for most of the day on Sunday. Stephen and Tara
came for a few hours on Sunday, too, and they set up a portable swing
under a beach umbrella for little Kyle. Kayla and I watched Kyle so
that Stephen and Tara could splash around in the lake for awhile,
reverting easily back into teenagers as soon as they stepped into the
water.
Again, my minor celebrity in town paid off for something. Any undue
stares or rude comments that might have been directed at my brother
and his girlfriend, along with the baby, were usually cut short when
the gossipers saw that they were there with me. It was a small
advantage, but we took it. Stephen accepted it, too, though he was
not about to embarrass himself by acknowledging it, which was
altogether all right by me. If my small amount of local fame could
give them a curtain of peace for a time, I was all for it.
By dinnertime on Sunday, I had had enough of being outside. I
wanted nothing more than a nice, air-conditioned room to spend the
evening in, with my Luscious by my side. We drove over to DQ and
grabbed a burger on our way out to the mall. We spent that evening
at the movies, my arm wrapped around Kayla's shoulder as we watched
Tom Cruise dance in his underwear, Rebecca de Mornay run an
enterprising home business, and Joe Pantoliano, as Guido the killer
pimp, take it all away in "Risky Business."
As we were walking back to my car after the movie, Kayla said, "I
dare you to drown your car in the lake, like Joel did."
"Maybe if my dad had a Porsche, I would," I retorted.
She stood aside as I unlocked the passenger door. "Maybe we could
reenact the subway scene sometime," she said with a smile.
I waggled my eyebrows at her. "Anytime, my dear, anytime at all," I
leered. "All we need is a train, a night, and a drunk to watch us."
"Ugh. Maybe not, then," she said as she slid smoothly into the car.
On Monday, after another day playing in the water and in the sand at
the lake, we skipped the carnival and opted to go out with friends to
Mike's Pizza. Now that I was done with high school, I was ready to
put activities I associated with those days behind me, including
hanging out at the carnival. It really didn't occur to me that
Kayla, in the middle of her high school years, might not be ready to
do the same. That thought wouldn't intrude and cause trouble until a
couple of weeks later.
Eric and Keisha were among the group already at Mike's when we got
there, along with Anthony and Ayesha, and Trent and Danielle. There
were two pitchers of Coke on the table, and as Kayla and I sat down,
Ayesha poured us each a glass.
"You guys look thirsty," she said with a smile as she set the full
glasses in front of us.
"It's warm out there," I said. I took a big drink of soda, and
almost immediately started hiccupping.
Kayla pounded on my back. "Are you okay, there, tiger?"
I gasped. "I'll be okay in a minute. Damn, that's cold," I
wheezed. Eric and Trent just laughed at me, friends that they were.
"Are you going back for the fireworks?" asked Anthony.
"I think I'm experiencing them right now," I coughed. Kayla slapped
on my back a little more, laughing.
"Don't expire on us, Porter," said Eric. "Paramedics charge time
and a half on holidays."
"Yeah, if you're gonna die, at least have the good grace to do it
after midnight, when the rates go down," said Trent. "We're just
poor college kids, you know."
"Thanks for all the sympathy," I grumbled as I stared at them
balefully, each in turn. "Always good to know who my true friends
are."
"Hey, we're just asking you to be a good friend, and keep our
wallets in mind as you're giving up the ghost," remarked Anthony.
"Is that really too much to ask?"
"Yeah, I think it is," I said. I could still feel the onset of a
hiccup attack hiding in my chest.
"Oh, all right," said Keisha with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "If
you're not going to cooperate about waiting to kick off, here." She
handed me a packet of sugar. "Open this, and eat it."
"Why?" I asked.
"You look like you're in pain, Sean," she said. "It's a cure for
hiccups. Just eat the damn sugar."
I tore open the paper, and tilted my head back and poured the sugar
into my mouth. As it melted against my tongue and dribbled down my
throat, I felt the hiccups draining away.
"Hey, neat. I didn't know that worked like that," I said. "Thanks,
Keisha."
Now it was her turn to give me the Groucho eyebrow waggle. "You can
thank me better during the fireworks," she vamped.
"Hey! What about me?" said Eric, feigning unhappiness.
Keisha rested her chin on her hand and her elbow on the table,
leaning in toward Eric and batting her eyes. "You? I done tried
that. Now maybe I want to sample something a little paler."
"Sheee-it, girl, you go," drawled Ayesha, and the whole table broke
up in laughter.
Just before dark, we all left Mike's and headed back over to the
park. We had to leave the cars in a shopping center parking lot
across the street, since the lot at the park was full. I opened the
trunk and grabbed my cooler, and Kayla took the big blanket out of
the back seat. We walked across the street in a big group, and
started looking for a spot for the eight of us. We managed to
squeeze in between a couple of families, over near a small stand of
trees, and we spread our blankets out and lay back against the
prickly grass poking up through the cloth, anticipating the fireworks
display.
Kayla snuggled up against me, resting her head comfortably on my
shoulder, and we oohed and aahed through the first salvos. We
pointed at displays we particularly liked, and I could hear my
friends doing the same.
About halfway through the show, there was a lull, presumably as the
workers were reloading their charges. I heard Keisha, laying next to
me, groan softly. I turned to look, and she turned toward me at the
same time. There was just enough ambient light for me to see that
Eric's fingers were busily exploring up the leg of Keisha's shorts.
Keisha stared at me for just a moment, and then reached up and pulled
my face to hers. Our lips met, and I felt her mouth open, and her
tongue snuck out and wriggled into my mouth, searching for my tongue.
I instinctively opened up, and our tongues engaged in an ages-old
battle of dominance. She broke our kiss just as the next rocket
flared up, and turned back to watch, a small and secret smile on her
face. By then, Eric's hand was just resting on her thigh, the very
picture of innocence. Confused, I turned toward Kayla. She was
watching me and smiling, but she, too, turned to watch the continuing
display without saying a word.
Whatever was going on was way beyond my limited faculties to
understand. I watched the rest of the fireworks in silence and
confusion.
After the grand finale, Eric and Keisha seemed anxious to go, so
they gathered up their things and, after hurried goodbyes, strode off
toward the exit hand in hand, melting quickly into the crowd. They
had some unfinished business to attend to, I was sure. Trent and
Danielle and Anthony and Ayesha started picking up their blankets,
but Kayla, with a gentle hand on my arm, encouraged me to remain
sitting.
"See you tomorrow, Sean," said Trent, and they all waved as they
departed.
Now that the fireworks display was over, the only lights in the park
were walkway lights and the floodlights in the parking lot, away from
us. All the families around us had already gathered up their
belongings and were headed out. Kayla stood, and I scrambled up to
pick up our stuff, too. She bunched up the blanket in her arms, but
instead of walking toward the exit, she stepped away toward the
trees. She glanced back over her shoulder and smiled at me. Her
pale hair was the last of her I could see before she blended into the
darkness. I grabbed the cooler and followed her.
She had only gone a few yards into the protection of the trees, and
she had spread the blanket back out again. She was kneeling on it,
watching as I approached. As I set the cooler down, she reached down
for the hem of her tank top, and pulled it over her head. Her
movement froze me in my tracks, and all I could do was stand there
and watch. Her unfettered breasts quivered slightly with her
movement as she placed her shirt on one corner of the blanket. She
shimmied out of her tight shorts, pulling her panties down at the
same time, and she gracefully shifted her legs over so she could push
them down and off. She lay back, propping up her head with her arm,
and raised her eyebrows in a questioning look.
The spell was broken, and I shucked off my shoes, my shirt, and my
shorts as quickly as I could. My briefs got hung up on my swelling
cock, and I struggled for just a moment to extricate it. I heard
Kayla softly giggle at my predicament, but I finally managed to get
completely undressed. I dropped down onto my side, facing her. She
reached up and put her hand on the back of my neck, and pulled my
head toward her, and she kissed me.
I reached out and pulled myself closer to her. My hand went from
her back quite naturally around to her soft breast, and I kneaded her
pliant flesh with my fingers. She twisted slightly in my arms to
give me better access to her charms, and her soft kisses got hotter
as she opened her mouth in invitation. The tip of my tongue met hers
at the portal, and our kiss was suddenly hotter, wetter, and more
demanding.
Kayla reached down and took my hard cock into her small hand,
gauging my length and girth, and then allowed her fingers to slither
down to caress my tight balls. She hefted them in concert with the
way my own hand was hefting the small weight of her wonderful breast.
If I squeezed, she squeezed; when I caressed the underside, she let
her fingertips delve down further between my spread legs. The only
action for which she opted not to reciprocate was when I pinched at
her nipples. Instead, she pinched at the base of my cock, her
fingernails raking and tickling the tender skin of my scrotum on
their way toward their target.
We broke away from each other, gasping for air. Kayla began
nibbling at my earlobe, and continued down my neck. I lay back, and
passively let her take her time.
And she did take her time, tasting and licking the salt from my skin
as she slowly made her way down my neck to my collarbone, part-way
down my sternum and across to nibble and bite at each of my nipples
in turn. She knew what she liked when I played with her, and she
applied that knowledge on my body, spending a lot of time playing
with a part of me I had never really realized was so sensitive.
All the time she was exploring with her mouth, her hand stayed busy,
working my stiffened shaft, spreading pre-cum around the head, and
playing with my balls. Her efforts had their desired effect, as I
was sure she could feel the beating of my heart through the pulsing
in unison of my swollen cock.
She finally relinquished her oral ministrations to my chest and
continued on her journey, nuzzling my stomach until my abdominal
muscles twitched. She bent at the waist, looking directly at my cock
as she held it in her hand, her head resting for a moment on my
stomach. I had my hand on her shoulder, and as she stuck out her
tongue for her first taste of my fluids, she let go of my cock just
long enough to reach up and grasp my hand on her shoulder. She
gently pulled my arm across her, and pressed my palm against her
breast. She sighed contentedly, and then went back to concentrating
on teasing my cock some more with her tongue, taking my length once
again in her fist.
She took long, loving licks up and down my rigid shaft, and
alternated between licking across the head and flicking her tongue
around the edge of my helmet. Her hand pumped me intermittently,
more to keep my hardness from decreasing than to provide me with any
anticipation of release. That's not to say that I was in any danger
of deflating, of course, not with my Luscious doing all she wanted to
me. I was happy to let her have her way with me.
In fact, I wordlessly encouraged her by playing with her soft boob,
just the way I knew she liked. I squeezed her, pinched at her
distended nipple, and caressed the small weight with the palm of my
hand. I tickled the swelling mound of her other breast with just my
fingertips, but couldn't reach it the way we were lying together, so
I contented myself with teasing her the best I could.
After licking off my pre-cum and tasting the entire shaft, Kayla
took the head into her warm mouth, and sealed her lips against my
stiff rod. She kept on teasing me with her tongue as she applied
suction, and slowly she dropped down, taking more of me into her
mouth. Her fingers were wrapped around my cock at the base, and she
jacked me just a little as she took me as deeply as she could, my
head hitting the back of her throat. When I felt the tip against the
constriction of her throat, I pinched her nipple hard, rolling the
nub between my thumb and index finger. She moaned, and the
vibrations from her vocal chords raced through my shaft and directly
into my aching balls, nearly setting me off.
She pulled her mouth back off me, and then began bobbing her head
fast, her lips scraping along the taut skin of my cock. Up and down,
deep and then back, alternately sucking hard and letting go, her
tongue in constant motion against me. She would take me to her
throat, and then back off, occasionally lifting off me altogether,
though I could feel her teeth just pressing against me as she took a
couple of quick, shuddering breaths before plunging back down on me,
resuming her intense suction.
Before long, she achieved her goal. I managed to stammer out, "K...
Kay... I'm gonna... uh..."
It was just enough warning. She backed off quickly, until just my
little head was still encased in her mouth. My hips pumped up,
pushing my cock a little deeper into her mouth, and I shot off.
That first spurt must have been a powerful one, because she coughed
twice, and my come spilled out of her mouth and down her flexing
hand. She clamped back down on me, however, and took the rest that I
had to give her, another six or seven pulses of seed. Her jaw
clenched and she reflexively swallowed each time I jetted into her
mouth. She worked my cock with her fist, pumping every last drop out
of my system and into her mouth. When I was finally done, she sucked
on me for a moment longer, making sure she had coaxed the last of my
spend from me, and then she tenderly licked up the remains that had
escaped when she coughed. She even cleaned off her hand, swallowing
every pearly drop of my semen.
She scooted back up to lie with her head back on my shoulder. I put
my arm around her and held her to me, and she dropped her hand and
touched my shrinking cock for just a moment before cupping my balls
possessively. She snuggled up against me.
"I think he liked it," she whispered with a smile.
I rolled over toward her and showered her eyes and cheeks with tiny
kisses.
"He liked it," I confirmed. "He liked it a lot."
It was my turn to give. I kissed her softly on her lips. She
closed her eyes, smiling, and let herself relax under my attentions.
I nibbled on her ears, just the way she had done to me, and took care
to lick at the tender spot behind her earlobes. I had one arm still
around her, and my other hand began circling her boob, exploring her
soft flesh. I took my time tasting her skin along her neck, and
showered the hollow of her throat with kisses. I teased her skin
across her chest with my tongue and lips, traveling back and forth,
inching ever so slowly toward her rosy peaks, until my arm slipped
from behind her neck.
My fingertips spiraled around her soft mound, closing in on the goal
of her swollen nipple, as I dropped my head down between her breasts
and tasted her salty flesh. I licked around her left breast as my
hand teased her right one, circling her swollen areola and nipple,
but never giving her the satisfaction of my touch. I sucked at her
soft mound, moving my lips around and around, getting closer to the
prize. She moaned, and arched her back, trying to will her breast
into my mouth, but I resisted for as long as I could.
Finally, in a last assault, I clamped my lips on her nipple at the
same instant I grasped her other swollen bud between my fingers. I
pinched and bit simultaneously, and she screeched and tensed up as
the sudden onslaught washed in waves of pleasure through her. Her
leg began rubbing up and down my body, but I didn't think she was
even aware she was doing it. I put my leg between hers, and pushed
my knee up against her crotch. Almost immediately I could feel her
hot oils leaking from her pussy, dribbling onto my knee. She
unconsciously hunched her crotch against the hard bone of my knee,
imparting lightning bolts of pleasure from her middle up into her
brain.
She clutched my head to her breast, and I opened my mouth and sucked
in as much of her breast as I could. Kayla was panting hard, unable
to catch her breath, and I didn't want to give her any respite. I
could feel her distended nipple against my tongue, and I worked that
rough nub back and forth as I sucked.
I let go of her other breast and let my hand wander down her tummy.
I found her belly button, her stomach heaving as she panted, and I
tickled her a little there. I abandoned her breast and let my mouth
follow my hand down as I repositioned myself between her outstretched
legs. My fingers found her patch of sparse hair, and continued down
until my fingertips felt her dewy slit. I stuck my tongue into her
belly button as I spread my fingers and lightly rubbed along the
outside of her swollen pussy lips, tickling the tender skin of her
inner thighs, from the top of her opening to her little puckered anus.
Her leg muscles were quivering by then, and I hadn't even gotten to
the really sensitive spots yet. She was on edge, and just the
slightest stimulation was going to send her over, so I slowed down
and let her ease back from the precipice just a little. I wanted to
keep her balanced on the pinnacle for just a little while longer.
I ran my palms up and down her inner thighs, from her drooling pussy
to her knees, and followed my hands with my lips. I kissed the soft
skin of her legs, and used my thumbs to press against her big leg
muscles just a little, trying to ease her twitching tissues. Once I
felt the tension in her lower body relax just a little, I started
working my way back up that long expanse of leg. This time, I didn't
retreat from my goal, though, and my lips continued tracing a path
along her sensitive skin, until her short pubic hairs were tickling
my nose, and my tongue was exploring her outer lips.
I cupped my tongue and delved in, searching for the well of her hot
lubrication. I found it, and lapped up that tangy oil, breathing
deeply of her clean, intoxicating scent. I used my fingers to spread
her open just a little, and my index finger traced a path from her
vagina to her hooded clit, picking up a coating of moisture on the
way. My tongue followed my finger, and when I got to her swelling
clitoris, I played with the little nub with the tip of my tongue.
At the same time, I drew my finger back down her, and twisted it
into her tight opening, to the first knuckle. She hunched at me,
perhaps trying to get my intruding finger deeper into her, and the
movement of her hips bumped her sensitive clit against my mouth. She
cried out softly, and nearly toppled once again.
I halted all my movement, keeping tongue and fingers and lips still
until she retreated from the precipice once more. Her breath was
still hitching, and her hips were still in motion, but after a few
moments I sensed that she was again a few steps away from spilling
over, so I cautiously continued playing with her. I crooked my
finger within her, and rubbed my fingertip against her tight walls,
and I slowly pushed it further inside her, stimulating the nerve
endings within her. I nibbled at her clit, and then used my tongue
to lap up more of her flowing juices.
After a slow intrusion to the second knuckle, I withdrew my finger,
and then plunged back into her. Her honeyed walls tightened on my
finger, and I felt my cock twitch. It was as if my finger was
communicating about how it felt to my cock, which desperately wanted
to be where my finger currently resided.
I finger-fucked her a few times while I gathered up her oils with my
tongue, and then I used my index and my middle finger together. I
worked them in and out of her, feeling her pussy exude more heat and
more lubrication to accommodate the thicker intrusion.
At the last, I plunged my fingers as deeply into her as I could, and
then rubbed on her distended clitoris with my thumb, my fist pressed
firmly against her pussy. The combination was enough to send her
off, and she came, spectacularly.
She screeched breathlessly, and pinched at her nipples, her eyes
squeezed shut. Her hips bumped at my hand and my face, and I kissed
the top of her damp slit as my thumb played its tune on her sensitive
organ. I twisted my fingers just a little, and she raggedly flexed
her hips in concert as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through
her. Her knees were splayed out, and her legs were quivering as her
body worked her through her rolling orgasms.
Finally, after surfing through several hills and troughs of her
ultimate pleasure, Kayla blindly reached down and grabbed my wrist.
"Oh, God, Sean, no more, no... no more..."
She lifted my hand away from her center and pulled on my arm to
bring me back up to her. Her eyes were still closed, and random
synapses were still firing behind her eyelids. She was almost
grimacing, the sensations were so powerful. I flopped down beside
her, prouder than I should have been for being able to impart so much
pleasure to her.
Kayla was on her back, her legs still splayed, and I lay on my side
and let my arm drop across her stomach. She distractedly reached for
my hand and moved it up to caress her swollen breast again. After
making sure my palm was positioned properly, she dropped her hand
down and took my hard cock into her fist.
"Ah," she sighed. "That's so nice."
"Better than nice," I agreed.
We stayed still together like that for several minutes, until I felt
that her systems had stabilized. I experimented my lightly squeezing
her breast. She wordlessly replied by squeezing my cock. I rubbed
my palm up and down across her nipple, she answered my moving her
hand up and down my shaft. I used my fingers to jiggle her pliant
boob, and she reciprocated by jiggling my balls. Action, reaction.
Give and take. Measures and countermeasures.
She giggled, and turned her head to look at me. I could see a
twinkle of mischief in her eye as she took the initiative. She
tapped her fingers against the base of my rod, and I followed by
lightly drumming against her nipple. She used her fist to jack me,
and I pinched at her nipples, each one in its turn.
She smiled, and rolled over onto her side. She let go of my cock
long enough to push me on my shoulder, so that I rolled onto my back,
and then she reached back down to grasp my hard dick again, holding
it up straight as she swung her leg over me to straddle me. She
perched over me, still holding onto my rod, and grinned down at me as
I anticipated feeling her warmth as she took me into her body.
She wiggled my cock up and down, rubbing the head against her pussy
lips, transferring moisture from her to me, from me to her. I
groaned, and my hips flexed, but she lifted herself up out of the
way, prolonging my anticipation, doing unto me as I had been doing
unto her so recently. She allowed her weight to settle down just a
fraction, so that just the tip of my cock felt her tight entrance.
My cock twitched in need, but she didn't allow it to ascend any
further. My brain froze up from the suspense, and when she saw a
look very much like panic in my eyes, she judged that it was time,
and she bent her knees a little more, still holding onto my shaft as
it slowly entered her.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, she dropped lower, until her hand was in
the way. She let go of me, and put both her hands on my shoulders to
steady herself as she allowed her body to accept my flesh. She
swiveled her hips just a little, almost literally screwing herself
down onto me, until I felt her ass cheeks settle against my thighs.
I was fully inside her, and the feeling was exquisite.
She was every bit as tight as my fingers had promised, and my cock
swelled against her constraining walls in remembrance. I saw her
eyes widen as she felt me flexing inside her, and she grinned at me
as she tightened her cunt muscles against me in reply. If I hadn't
already come once, just that little bit of extra pressure would have
set me off.
As it was, I felt like I could stay there, imbedded deeply within
her, forever. I reached up for her, and pulled her down for a kiss.
She opened her mouth against mine, and our tongues danced an ancient
dance, the echoes reverberating through both our bodies and creating
harmonious movement between us at our connection point.
She rose and fell on me, impaling herself over and over, and I
flexed my hips in unison. We moved as if we were made for each
other, and in those moments, I could almost believe in the concept of
soulmates. Surely Kayla and I were meant to be together? How else
could two people fit so well, so naturally, together?
These and other timeless questions shattered into millions of shards
of crystal as the demands of our bodies took over. Suddenly, it was
a race. Our kiss was forgotten in our concentration of the
sensations being created as we loved each other. I felt my impending
climax rushing toward me, inexorable in its intensity and its
commitment. I pulled her down toward me, but she was arching her
back in the throes of her own ecstasy, her head thrown back. It put
her breasts in range of my mouth, and I took the advantage. I locked
my lips around her right nipple, and sucked hard on her.
She screeched, and practically bucked herself off of me as she
pumped her body up and down on me, lost in the throes of her orgasm.
I pushed up with all my might, trying to bury myself inside her warm
and inviting tunnel, and I shot off, my seed splashing against her
walls and her cervix, the overflow leaking out around my invading
cock. I grabbed her ass cheeks and pulled her down hard, trying for
even more depth, but I was as far into her as I could get. We
clutched at each other, lost to the intense feelings that were
coursing through us, and we rode out the storms together.
After I had emptied myself into her, my tired muscles gave out, and
I fell back to the blanket. Kayla's nipple popped out of my mouth,
and she collapsed on top of me, exhausted and sweaty, her chin
resting against my shoulder. I folded my arms around her, and held
her there, happy to be with her, happy to have shared with her. I
felt my cock beginning to wilt inside her. She must have felt it,
too, but she didn't move at all.
"I love you so much," she whispered.
"And I love you," I murmured softly.
We stayed that way for what felt like hours. Finally, the dewy
night air began to chill the sweat on our tired bodies, and we were
forced to move. She sat up, and my well-used member slipped from her
pussy, landing on my stomach with a wet plop. Kayla giggled tiredly.
"'Bye, Porter," she said again, with just a touch of regret.
"Thanks for visiting."
"Thanks for having me," I replied.
"Actually, I think you had me," she came back with a smile.
"Well, thanks for letting me have my way with you," I replied. I
gave her a soft kiss. She threw her arms around my neck and
reciprocated with a kiss of her own.
"You can have your way with me anytime you want," she said, her lips
still pressed to mine. She looked at me cross-eyed for a moment, and
then let me go.
"Clothes," she muttered. "They're here someplace, I know they are."
"Here they are," I said, holding up her tank top and her shorts.
"Just do me a favor?"
She nodded, smiling.
"Don't cover up my favorite parts, okay?" I asked.
She laughed. "I think I'd have to go naked, then," she said.
"Okay, if you insist," I replied.
She grabbed her clothes out of my hand. "You're a lecherous old
man, Porter," she said.
"Mmmm...hmmmm," I agreed.
"And I love it," she finished.
The second week of July, I was scheduled to fly down to Gainesville
for orientation. I was looking forward to going, and getting away
from soccer camps for just a little while. My dad accompanied me
down, and we had a really good time. We stayed in one of the dorms,
and the university had activities and tours set up from about nine in
the morning until 10 or later at night.
Aside from the typical campus tours, they also had scheduled a pig
roast outside the student union on the first evening. There was a
big crowd, and the scenery was fantastic. Even my dad couldn't help
ogling the college coeds, and I had trouble even walking around
without stumbling. My head seemed to be on a swivel as groups of
gorgeous southern lasses walked by. Some were even giving me the eye
right back.
College, I thought. The best time of our lives. Temptation
abounded, but would I be strong?
I also had an afternoon scheduled with Pick Cropper. He showed me
around the athletic fields, the locker rooms, the weight rooms, and
the fitness center. He gave me a list of all the players for the
coming season so I could familiarize myself with names and positions.
He introduced me to his secretary, Eunice, and we talked about his
plans and his expectations for the upcoming season. Eunice filled me
in on my job in one of the stadium gift shops, working during
football and basketball games. Of course, it meant that I got into
all the games for free, also, including the ones I wasn't working, so
it was all okay.
Pick and my academic counselor also let me know what my schedule for
the first semester was going to be like, and it was tough. My class
schedule was heavy on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and I had mostly labs
on Mondays and Wednesdays. I had no classes or labs scheduled for
Friday, but there was a reason for that. Soccer took up all weekend,
including Friday.
My soccer schedule for the fall was brutal. There were only
occasional days off scheduled, never more than one at a time, and no
breaks from school or soccer until Christmas. No Labor Day time off,
no October mid-semester break, no Thanksgiving at home. We played
straight through, from mid-August until November, when the NCAA
tournament began. Pick had a calendar marked for the three weeks of
the tournament, with tentative locations of games, right up to the
Final Four in Atlanta the first week of December. He brooked no
thoughts of not making the tournament, and everything he did for the
team was directly attributable to that three week period. He fully
expected his team to make the tournament, and would accept nothing
less from his players or his assistant coaches. He impressed this
attitude on me the entire time I was there for orientation. It was
scary, but it was also exhilarating. It would be a complete change
from Coach Neville's style, and I was excited to be a part of it.
Pick's enthusiasm was contagious.
I talked enthusiastically to my dad about the program during most of
our flight back home. I was keyed up, really looking forward to
getting to school and starting in on college-level playing. My
orientation visit had triggered a desire in me to get started. It
wasn't until we were nearly home that it suddenly occurred to me that
Kayla, with two more years of high school remaining before she would
feel this same excitement, might not share my joy in leaving for
college.
Mom and Stephen picked us up at the airport, and by the time we got
home, I had pretty much convinced myself that the best thing for
Kayla was to let her go out with others while I was gone. I just
couldn't see how a girl as vivacious as Luscious would want to sit at
home every night, just because her boyfriend was away at college. No
Homecoming, no Winter Festival, no Turnabout, no Prom, no Saturday
nights at Mike's Pizza Parlor. It wasn't fair to her. I knew it,
even if she didn't. There was just one flaw in my logic: I didn't
know how I was going to be able to tell her it was okay with me if
she dated somebody else while I was gone.
When you're 27 or 28, a two-year difference in age with your
partner, one way or the other, doesn't mean much. At 16, 17, or 18,
it can be a huge difference. I started looking ahead toward college,
while Kayla was still going to have to labor through her junior and
senior years of high school at home. Something would have to change.
I knew it, even if Kayla hadn't yet recognized it.
From that point on, for most of the rest of that summer that I was
home, Kayla knew something was bothering me. Many times I was very
irritable with her, and I was sure I was cruelly hurting her, yet I
didn't say anything to her about it. She assumed it was the work
schedule I had arranged for myself, or perhaps anxiety about going
away to school, and I didn't correct her. I was chicken.
Finally, though, I was running out of time. I arranged to take her
out to a nice dinner at a quiet, out of the way restaurant on a
Saturday night early in August. I was really nervous on the drive to
the restaurant, and Kayla knew something was up. She held herself
together, though, until we were almost through with our main course.
"So, Sean," she said, setting down her fork carefully, "do you want
to let me know what's going on?"
I picked up my water glass, but my hand was shaking so much, I
thought I would spill all over myself, so I set it back down again.
I took a deep breath, and threw myself to the wolves.
"I think you should date while I'm gone," I said without preamble.
"Really? Why?" She was calm, at least. Much calmer than I was.
"Kay, look. You're sixteen. You've got two more years of high
school. I can't expect you to just sit at home, just because I'm not
around," I said.
She glared at me a little. "So you're telling me what I should do?"
"No, of course not," I said. "I'm just saying..."
"You want me to go out while you're gone," she stated flatly. Not a
question, but a statement. "Is this your way of saying you want to
be free to go out when you're away?"
"No, I..."
"Because you can," she interrupted.
"That's not what I..."
"But I can't, Sean."
"Kay..."
"I love you," she said simply. "I won't compromise that."
"I'm not saying you should compromise... Look, sweetie, I'm just
afraid you're going to get too lonely, and I would worry about you.
That's all."
She sat there quietly and looked at me. I thought our conversation
was going reasonably well, and was just about to silently
congratulate myself on my magnanimous gesture on her behalf, when
tears began flowing down her cheeks. She didn't seem to notice them
as she sadly looked at me.
"Oh, damn it, Kayla, I'm just trying to make it easier for you," I
said miserably.
"Easier for me? When have I ever asked you to make it easier for
me, Sean?" There was a little hitch in her voice now. She shook her
head as she finally noticed her tears. She absent-mindedly wiped at
her cheeks with her palms. Her head dropped, and she put her hands
in her lap. "Are you breaking up with me?" she whispered.
"God, no! No, Kayla, absolutely not!" I was desperate now. I had,
once again, fucked this up royally. How could I fix it? "I love
you, Kayla. You've got to know that."
She stood up abruptly. "Pay the bill, Sean. I'll be in the car.
We'll talk there." And she walked out, her back stiff as she turned
away.
Our check was on the table. I glanced at it, and tossed enough
money onto the table to cover it, and I hurried after her.
Kayla was already in the car, hugging the passenger door when I got
to my car. As soon as I closed my door, she turned to me.
"Don't you dare give up on us so easily," she said angrily.
"Me? Kay, I'm not giving up. I'm just facing facts."
She snorted. "That's not what it sounds like."
"I've never been happier than when I'm with you, Kayla. You've got
to know that. But two years is a long time..."
"It's not so long," she said defensively.
"When you're a teenager, a month is a long time," I said. "Two
years is almost incomprehensible."
She smiled weakly. At least she smiled, I thought. It was a
positive sign.
"I can wait two years," she whispered.
"So can I," I said. "But you still should be able to have fun while
you're stuck here."
"I can't have fun if you're not here," she said quietly.
"Yes, you can," I said. "But it had better be the right kind of
innocent fun."
She burst out laughing, in spite of her tears.
"You really are a piece of work, Porter," she said, wiping her eyes
with a tissue.
"It's a work-in-progress, I'm afraid," I said.
"Slow progress," she remarked. She sat up and slipped her seatbelt
around her waist. I started up the car and headed for her house.
When we pulled into the driveway, she unsnapped her seatbelt and
knelt on the seat. She reached over and grabbed me by my ears, and
pulled me painfully over toward her side, and kissed me hard.
"Ow," I complained, though I really didn't mean it.
"Don't you ever scare me like that again, Sean," she warned. I
wasn't really sure how I had scared her, but if I ever figured it
out, I promised myself I wouldn't do it ever again. She let go of my
ears and opened her door. Without another word, she walked up her
driveway to her back door, and went inside.
On the surface, our conversation that evening seemed to end up okay,
but there was a tension between us from that point on that we just
couldn't seem to dissipate. We were still struggling to repair the
damage the last week I was home.
My dad had rented a U-Haul trailer for our trip down to Florida, and
I spent my last couple of days figuring out what I should take, and
what would fit in my small dorm room. Stephen helped me load my
stuff into the trailer. With Michael gone most of the time, and me
leaving, he was going to be more like an only child. He seemed like
he was looking forward to it, but I didn't think he would be able to
stand all the attention Mom and Dad were going to give him, now that
he was the last kid home.
Kayla came over for dinner on my last night. After we finished
eating, she helped my mom clear the dishes and rinse them. The two
of them were talking girl talk in the kitchen, no men allowed.
When they finished, Mom and Kayla came into the family room, where
Stephen, Dad and I were watching television. My mom stepped over and
shut off the TV.
"What would you say to a movie, Jim?" she asked my father.
Dad looked at her in surprise. "Sure," he replied. He stood up.
"Stephen? Why don't you come with us?" Mom suggested.
"But, Mom..." he started.
"Stephen? Why don't you come with us?" Mom insisted. The look on
her face said she would brook no disagreement.
He got the hint. "Okay," he mumbled, and he tromped up the stairs
to get some shoes.
I said, "Mom, I don't want..."
"Sean, we won't be home until midnight," interrupted my mother,
giving me a significant look. "Not a minute before. Now, remember,
we're leaving promptly at eight tomorrow morning, so get your rest."
She hustled my dad and my brother out of the house, leaving Kayla
and me alone.
We watched out the front window as my dad's car pulled out of the
driveway and rolled down the street. Once it was out of sight, Kayla
took my hand, and silently led me to the staircase, pulling me along
the hallway to my room. It looked oddly empty, with most of the
posters and pictures down, my closet mostly empty, my everyday stuff
packed up and moved out.
The sun was getting lower in the sky, and the room was bathed in a
golden light. Kayla pulled her shirt off over her head, reached
behind her and loosened her bra, and shrugged it off. She draped her
shirt and bra across my desk chair, and unsnapped her shorts,
shimmying to get them off. She took off her panties, and set them on
the chair, on top of her shorts. The pale triangle of hair at the
juncture of her legs was only slightly darker than the hair on her
head as she stood there, waiting patiently, uninhibitedly, for me to
get undressed.
The lump in my shorts made it harder for me to get my clothes off
smoothly, but I finally managed. After dropping my shorts to the
floor, I stood before her, my manhood standing up in anticipation,
and looked at the loveliest girl I would ever know. She glanced down
at my erection and smiled a little, and then reached over and turned
the bedspread down. She slipped between my sheets, and held out her
arms to me.
"Come make love to me, Sean," she said quietly. Her voice cracked
just a little, giving away a hint of the emotions that were just
under her surface calm.
I lay down next to her, and took her into my arms, and just held her
to me for the longest time. I desperately wanted the clock to stand
still, so that moment could have been preserved forever.
Kayla's lovemaking that night was alternately tender and fierce,
demanding and giving. We pleasured each other, rested, and began
again, each of us scaling heights we had never dreamed existed
before. It was somehow a fitting farewell, exhilarating and sad.
At the last, we were holding each other, heedless of the sheen of
perspiration that coated our skin. I brushed the pale hair from her
forehead, and kissed away the glistening and salty tears from her
cheeks. At about 11:45, we finally got up, and dressed silently. I
walked her out into the warm night, to her car, and stayed there on
the sidewalk, still watching long after her taillights had
disappeared.
The next day, I dozed and daydreamed of my beautiful girl, my own
Kayla Lehigh, as we drove through boring, flat and unchanging
farmland, heading south away from just about everything I had known
in my life. I sat in the back seat, wedged against the car door
across from my sleeping younger brother, and watched as cornfields
and beanfields rolled past the window in a nearly endless procession.
I held a soccer ball in my lap, a physical reminder of one of the two
constants I could use to navigate through the treacherous waters of
the future. I was moving on, and soccer was the southern point of my
internal compass.
The northern point of that compass of mine was the pale-haired girl
I was leaving behind.
THE END
PLAYING THE GAME II: PLAYING TO WIN
Watch for the release of PLAYING THE GAME III, late summer 2003
AUTHOR'S ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: I would like to express my thanks and
appreciation to The Purvv, Mycroftxxx, and Estron for acting as my
editors and proofreaders. If you find any mistakes at all in Book 2,
they are mine by either neglect or design, and not theirs for lack of
pointing them out to me.
In addition, I would be remiss in not pointedly thanking all the
readers who have sent comments, suggestions, praise, and even
occasional criticism to me, especially those I could answer. Even
anonymous messages are appreciated, but I particularly enjoyed
setting up dialogs about the story and these characters with several
of you. This is particularly true of the friends who have joined
with me on my Yahoo Group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/RCMStories
Your continued interest in seeing this story advance has been
instrumental in keeping me writing.
The two books comprising Sean's story thus far has been a two-year
odyssey for me, one of growth and discovery for me as well as Sean,
Kayla, Molly, Josh, and Jaimie. A few months ago, I had the ending
of this saga worked out in my mind. Putting it into sentences,
however, just didn't feel right. The result of many e-mails back and
forth with my editors and fans, along with some uneasy nights of my
own, caused me to rethink my decision, and to continue the story into
a third book. I trust you are not yet bored, and I will endeavor to
keep the story as interesting as I possibly can.
Thank you all.
RCM
April 2003
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