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Just a little something for those of you who are just catching up with the adventures of 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 2003, Rev. Cotton Mather)

E-Mail all comments to RevCottonMather@hotmail.com
Don't be shy!  I enjoy hearing from you.
---------------------------------------------------------------------



PLAYING TO WIN:
PLAYING THE GAME, BOOK II


by Reverend Cotton Mather




- 31 -

THE ROLLING LOVEMOBILE



By Christmas, I had received so many offers and calls from scouts
and coaches from around the country, that even I was convinced that I
would be able to play college soccer on a scholarship.  Pick's offer
sheet arrived, and he followed up with several phone calls.  Florida
was offering me a full scholarship, room and board, reimbursement for
books and fees, plus an employment package that would pay me for
working about 10 hours a week in one of the stadium gift shops.

I also got offers from Minnesota and Indiana in the Big Ten, from
Creighton, Maryland, Rhode Island, Boston College, UConn, NYU, Texas,
UCLA, Oregon, and Arizona.  Some offers, I was sure, were a result of
working with Katrina Sorenno, who played on the UCLA women's team,
and James Bricker, the starting keeper for UConn, as well as Tasha
Wallace of Arizona, all of whom I knew from working for Duane Olchick
over the summer.  I also got offers with incentives from other SEC
schools, including some under the table offers that were very
generous.  My dad thought those offers were more to keep me from
going to Pick's program than anything else.  He said that one scout
from one of the schools had told him in confidence that they were
afraid Pick was building up a dynasty, kind of like what John Wooden
had built for the UCLA basketball program.

My parents knew, and probably Pick knew, but nobody else was aware
that I had every intention of signing up with Florida.  Pick Cropper
was the first to show his faith in me, and he had Jesse Wilhoit
playing for him.  I thought I would fit in well there.

My dad, meanwhile, was so happy that he wouldn't have to pony up for
my college education, that he broke into my college fund and bought
me a nice used car for Christmas, a two year old VW Rabbit.  No more
begging rides to school from Jake or taking the dreaded school bus. 
Freedom!  The only problem was that the Rabbit had bucket seats in
front, so Luscious couldn't cuddle up next to me as we drove
somewhere.  The back seat was a little cramped, too, not that it
mattered much.  Kay and I were just fooling around a little.  She had
already made it quite clear that she wasn't about to give up her
virginity in the back seat of a rolling lovemobile, though she was
certainly open to considerable latitude when it came to other worldly
pleasures.  Yes, the Rabbit served us quite nicely.

Another big event among my friends came early in the spring, when
Jaimie and Jake came out as a couple.  Everybody at school already
knew about it, of course, but, with Prom coming up, they both decided
that it was past time for them to quit hiding their relationship from
their parents.  To that end, things were made much easier for them
inadvertently by Jaimie's younger sister, Tara.

Tara had always been the wild child of the neighborhood, a tomboyish
girl who wanted to play sports.  She loved playing basketball,
baseball, football, soccer, even hockey, but what she really excelled
at was running.  She could run faster than any other girl I knew of,
and was by far the fastest kid in junior high.  She might even have
been faster than Eric Johnson was when he was her age.  Now, 14 years
old and in eighth grade, she still was a fast runner.

And, from what I had heard from my younger brother Stephen, Tara was
getting pretty fast in other ways, too, having discovered the
pleasures of the flesh.  In fact, even her parents had heard or seen
some things, and were trying to intervene to head off her pattern of
behavior and experimentation.  The two sisters, meanwhile, were in a
stalemate.  Jaimie knew some things about Tara, which kept Tara's
mouth shut about Jaimie's involvement with Jake, around and around
and around.  After Mr. and Mrs. Jacks found out about some of Tara's
activities, however, their concern focused on Tara, and somehow
Jaimie's deceptions seemed pretty minor.  Once they found out about
it, when Jake and Jaimie went to them and told them about their plans
to attend Prom together, they reluctantly accepted the fact that the
two of them, next door neighbors, were dating.

One Saturday evening in April, Jaimie and Jake were sharing a booth
with us at Mike's Pizza.

"So, Tara's been acting up again, Jaimie?" I asked.  Stephen had
told me that Tara was known as the Blowjob Queen of Central Junior
High.

"I don't know what's going through the tiny brains of junior high
kids," Jaimie said disgustedly.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I try to talk to her and all, and she's like, 'All the kids are
doing it, it's no big deal.'  I'm trying to tell her that it is a big
deal, but she doesn't believe me."

"What, having sex and all?" asked Kayla.

"No, it's not like that," replied Jaimie.  "They're not having sex. 
I mean, they're not, like, screwing or anything, but they are
engaging in other sex acts.  But she doesn't think oral sex and stuff
is the same thing as sex.  It's just like it's something casual and
friendly, like a hug or something."

"Some hug," said Jake, waggling his eyebrows.

Jaimie slugged him in the arm, almost a reflexive action, and then
continued.  "She says that a lot of girls at her school treat it the
same way.  It's not just her giving a boy she knows some head, it's
mutual.  She even says that some girls even go down on other girls,
just so they can each get off.  It's not sex, it's just fun and
games."

"Wow.  It seems like it could be a pretty dangerous game," said Kayla.

"Yeah.  I just don't get it.  I mean, I would feel really strange
doing something like that with somebody I really didn't have any
feelings about, you know?  I mean, putting your mouth next to
somebody else's genitals seems a lot more... personal... than they
are considering."

Jake and I both laughed.  "Yes, it seems pretty personal, all
right," I agreed with a chuckle.  Luscious kicked me under the table
and gave me a quick look of warning.

"I agree with you," said Kayla after a moment.  "But these kids
don't see it the same way.  It's what, social instead of personal? 
Something like that, anyway.  I'm glad I'm not in junior high
anymore.  I just don't understand it."

"It's their method of birth control, maybe," suggested Jake.  "I
mean, if you're just engaging in oral sex, or even... um... mutual
masturbation, you're really staying, technically speaking, a virgin. 
It's a way of having the pleasure, and at the same time, escaping the
possibility of getting pregnant."

"Birth control?"  Jaimie was startled by the suggestion.  Her eyes
got wide as she looked at Jake, but I could see her concentration
shift inward as she considered what he was saying.  "Hmmm... maybe
that's true," she murmured, almost to herself.

"And there's still the worry about passing around diseases," said
Kayla.  "I mean, VD is still around, and, unless they lied during Sex
Ed, it can still be passed through oral contact."

"Hey, have you guys heard about this new disease they've been
reporting about lately?"  I had just remembered a news report I had
seen on TV.  "Something about a new gay disease, I forget what it's
called, but it shows up as odd, rare forms of cancers."

"A gay disease?"  Jake asked.  "Some kind of fudge-packer's cancer?"

"Ewww.  That's really gross," complained Jaimie, as she hit his
bicep again.

"I don't think they know how it's passed, but it seems to be most
common among gays, primarily in New York and London."

"Yes, I remember hearing about that," said Kayla.  "And now it's
showing up in Haiti, too, right?"

"Yeah, I think I heard that, too," I replied.

"Well, if it's a homo disease, so what?" asked Jake.

"Nothing," I said.  "Unless it's passed through homosexual oral sex.
I mean, how does a disease stay confined to a lifestyle like that? 
What's to keep it from spreading to girls, then?"

That wasn't a very pleasant thought for any of us.  We could only
hope that it stayed confined to the gay community, and that they
found a cure quickly.





Later that night, Kayla and I were sitting together, mostly naked in
the back seat of my car, catching our breath after an intense session
of touching and stroking each other to completion.  I had my arm
around her, and she was leaning on my shoulder, idly doodling with
the arrow of hair running from my belly button down to my pubic hair.

"You've never done that, have you, Sean?" she asked quietly.  "Been
casual about oral sex like Tara, I mean."

"No, of course not," I replied.

She lifted up and looked into my eyes.  "I'm not going to ask you
about your sex partners, Sean.  I know that you and Molly... had
sex... I mean, you guys fucked.  Right?"  I simply nodded, wary about
where she was going with this line of conversation.  "I don't care if
there's been anyone else you've... done anything... with," she
continued.  "I want you to know, Sean, that I..."

"Shhhh," I said, putting a finger to her lips.  "You don't have to
tell me anything, Kay."

She shook her head, and gently pushed my finger away from her.  "I
know.  You know that I've never... that I'm a virgin... at least,
technically."  She giggled a little embarrassedly, perhaps thinking,
as I was, that she certainly was an experienced virgin.  "And you
were the first boy I ever did... anything... with."  She put her head
back down on my shoulder, perhaps so she wouldn't have to look at me
while she confessed.  "But I also did a few... things... with
Brandon."

For some reason, my heart was trip-hammering in my chest.  "Oh?" I
said, trying to be nonchalant about this new information.

She looked up briefly, gauging my reaction, before resting her head
back down and continuing.  "Not much, really.  I... I did take him
into my... my mouth... a couple of times.  And I let him... touch
me... once or twice."

She sat up, facing straight ahead, looking out the front windshield,
but seeing something other than the trees and the starlight that was
all that was visible through the glass.  She crossed her arms beneath
her breasts, hugging herself as if she was cold.

"It was kind of like what Tara's doing, and that bothers me," she
whispered.  "It didn't mean anything.  We were friends, that's all. 
He knew I was in love with you, and I would drop him for you at a
moment's notice, but we did it anyway.  I mean, at the time I didn't
think of it as anything more than... I don't know, maybe using him to
experiment on?  Recreation?  But now, thinking back, I feel kind
of... slimy.  Dirty."  She shivered.

I put my arm around her and drew her back to me.  She resisted for
just a moment, and then allowed me to comfort her.

"It's okay, my luscious sweetheart," I crooned.  "It doesn't matter
to me at all.  Don't feel that way, Kay.  I did stuff, too, but I was
lost, and didn't know it.  Once I figured out it was you all along,
nothing else mattered."

She hiccupped just once, an effort to hold back a sob, and buried
her head against my chest, her arm holding my shoulder.  I could feel
her tears against my bare chest as I did my best to make her feel
better.

She was very introspective on the drive back to her house, and a
little distracted when she kissed me goodnight.  I really hoped this
didn't eat at her for very long.  She was too important to me, just
the way she was.  I had to convince her that I really didn't care
about her and Brandon.  I only cared about her and me.





I started working with Davey and Kip again early in April, and I had
called Coach Bill and let him know I would be glad to help out his
team again this season.  Davey was now 10 years old, and Kip was 9,
and their increased coordination and cognitive skills were becoming
more apparent, and more important.  I had to devise a bunch of new
drills to ramp up their skills, commensurate with their abilities. 
It helped to keep me sharp, too, watching how quickly they were
developing.

I never heard from Wendy about having Justin join us, like he did
the previous couple of seasons, and I asked Davey about it at our
first practice together.

"Justin moved away," he said.

"Oh, really?  Where did he move to?"

"Don't know.  Away.  I think far away."

"Oh."

"He said me and Kip could come and visit him some day, though," he
added helpfully.

"That's great," I said.

Some afternoons Eric would come along and help me with the boys, and
other days Trent would come over.  When either of them was there, we
would play an active game of 2-on-2, taking turns partnering with
each of the younger boys.  They quickly picked up on the hows and
whys of passing into open space, getting rid of the ball fast, and
moving from coverage into open field in anticipation.  Their ball
sense was getting to be very impressive, and I knew Coach Bill would
be anxious to take advantage of their new skills.

Once practice with the full team started, I found out about one of
the basic tenets of recreational sports, that of parity among teams. 
The Warriors only had four returning players from our old team.  The
rest were reassigned to other teams in the league, in an attempt to
even out the competition.  We had become such a powerhouse that it
was only fair that our team was broken up.  If it had been a
competitive or club team, we could have stayed together, but in a
recreational league, fair play ruled.  It was fine by both Bill and
me.  I had the feeling that, once the other kids saw how Davey and
Kip and the other two returning boys played the game, they would find
their own skills improving, and the Warriors would be a strong team
again.

We taught the newer kids the Warrior Warm-Up, and spent a lot of
time on drilling the discipline of zones and lanes into them.  We
used cornstarch to mark lanes on the practice field, varying the
width of the lane each time, but staying strict about the players
staying within their areas.  Once they had the lane concept down, we
expanded it by marking zones on the field.  Sometimes our cornstarch
markers were straight, sometimes they bulged in the middle, sometimes
the lines were narrower toward midfield than they were toward the
net.  We named these zones "even", "fat boy", and "funny funnel", so
Bill or I could change the dimension of one or all the zones or
lanes, just by calling out a new code name.

Another drill I tried with Davey and Kip worked so well that I
persuaded Bill to use it during practice.  After garbage day in our
neighborhood, I borrowed a couple of big garbage cans from neighbors,
washed them out, and took them with me to the field.  I set them up
about 15 meters from the sideline of the practice field.

"Okay, guys, here's what you have to do."  I stood next to them, my
own soccer ball on the line.  "You kick your ball in the air, and
into the garbage can.  Like this."  I kicked my ball, and it went
sailing over the cans.  Jorge, who was helping out with the keepers
again for us, ran it down and punted it back to me.

"See?" I said.  "It's not that easy.  Go ahead and try it."  I ran
down to help Jorge and Bill shag balls as all the boys on the team
let loose, aiming for one of the four garbage cans I had set up.

After about 10 minutes of yelling and laughing and trying to make a
basket, the drill started to disintegrate.  I stopped them for a
moment.

"Hold on, guys," I yelled, waving my arms to get their attention. 
Once they had stopped, I asked Bill and Jorge to move the cans
closer, so that they were about 10 meters away.

"If anybody gets the ball into a can on the fly, I will owe them a
pizza," I told them.  And off they went, trying to win a pizza. 
There were a lot of shots that hit a can, either on the fly or
bouncing into it, but nobody made it in.

"Have you ever made a basket this way, Sean?" asked Davey.

I grinned at him.  "Nope," I said.

"So it's impossible!" shouted Kip.

"No, I didn't say that, either," I said.  "I've tried it maybe a
couple of dozen times, but I haven't done it yet.  But I will, if I
take enough shots and work on being precise.  But that's not the
point.  The whole reason why we're even trying to do this is to get
more accurate in our passes and our shots.  You want the ball to fly
over somebody's head and hit the ground 10 meters away?  Just think
about trying to make a basket."

"Hey, good trick!" exclaimed Jorge.  He took a couple of steps and
kicked one of the team practice balls, and it arced up and hit the
rim of one of the garbage cans, nearly rattling in before the can
tipped over.

I very nearly owed him a pizza, and I knew he would have insisted I
pay up right then and there.





There were lots of other events that spring that Luscious and I
participated in, or attended.  Prom, for instance, was a lavish
affair, held in the ballroom of one of the fanciest hotels in the
city the first weekend of May.  It was pretty exciting to see
everybody get all dressed up, including Dr. Osgood, many of our
teachers, and even a few parents who chaperoned.

Kay and I went out to dinner with a big group before the dance. 
Twenty of us pretty much took over an entire room at Domenico's, an
Italian restaurant in Monticello, one of the many bedroom communities
surrounding the city.  Eric and Keisha, Trent and Danielle, Anthony
and Ayesha, Jake and Jaimie, Josh and Andrea, Tiny and Erica, Austin
and Tessa, joined us in a spaghetti extravaganza.  Also in attendance
was Jorge Mendoza and his date, Marissa Montoya, a junior who was on
the cheerleading squad, and Molly O'Toole, accompanied by Alex
Baumgartner, another member of the Junior Class.  Alex was tall, with
an unruly shock of bright red hair.  He was so smart he was almost
scary, and was generally considered the most likely kid in school to
discover something that would change the world.  Even with his grades
and his appearance, though, Alex had just enough street smarts that
he was able to avoid most accusations of geekiness.  He wasn't
popular, but he wasn't picked on, either.  Now, taking Molly to Prom,
his stock would rise considerably.  I wondered how they got hooked
up; Molly hadn't told me anything, other than they were going to Prom
together.  It was a mystery I was determined to solve.

Even though our school was considered to be a medium-sized school,
Junior-Senior Prom was only open to upperclassmen.  Freshmen and
Sophomores could only attend if they were invited by a Junior or
Senior.  So, without Jake, or Marissa, or me, our dates would not be
attending.

Not that it mattered at all.  I wouldn't be attending, either, if
Kayla wasn't allowed to be there, and I knew that Jake felt the same
way about his date.  All the same, I was glad we all could be
together for this night.

There actually were two separate events planned around Prom.  The
dance, in the Grand Ballroom of the hotel, was scheduled for the
evening, until 10:00 PM.  From there, buses were lined up to take
those participants who signed up for the second activity, which was
most of the kids, back to our home town.

The Parent-Teacher's Association, the organizers of Prom, had
arranged for a lock-in at our local YMCA, a supervised overnight that
took advantage of all that the Y had to offer.  The two swimming
pools were open and staffed with lifeguards, and so were the
racquetball and handball courts, basketball courts, and weight rooms.
There were also rooms set up with board games, and crafts rooms, all
supervised by teachers or parents.  They even arranged for several
classrooms to be used as quiet rooms, with dim lights and blankets on
the floors.  No hanky-panky was allowed, however, as these rooms were
constantly monitored by at least four adults each.  It sounded pretty
lame, but it was actually a lot of fun staying up all night and
goofing around with friends.  The fancy clothes were exchanged for
shorts and tee shirts, high heels were discarded in favor of
sneakers, and about 200 of us spent the night in youthful pursuit of
amusement.

The Junior-Senior Prom, even as big an event as it was, didn't
compare with the weekend that defined that spring and early summer
season of 1982 for us, however, an unforgettable weekend in early
June.




(Continued in Chapter 32)


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

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.
---------------------------------------------------------------------



PLAYING TO WIN:
PLAYING THE GAME, BOOK II


by Reverend Cotton Mather




- 32 -

CELEBRATION



On a beautiful, sunny Saturday afternoon in June, Kayla and I were
standing in anticipation, turned facing the rear of the church,
waiting to catch our first glimpse.  All the other participants were
in their places, with the big man standing nervously in front.  As
the organ music swelled and segued into a traditional wedding
processional, the bridal party started pacing majestically down the
white runner that covered the carpeting of the center aisle.

After three bridesmaids and the matron of honor passed by, their
escorts holding their arms through their crooked elbows, the lovely
bride, clothed in a flowing white gown and a veil, seemed to float
down the center aisle, accompanied by an older man I didn't recognize.

We settled down to watch the ceremony, and at the end, there were
very few dry eyes anywhere I could see as the minister asked, "David
McMasters, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" 
With his assent, the minister continued, "And do you, Lori Wilkinson,
take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Even those in the back of the church could see her nod, and hear her
soft voice say, "I do."  When they kissed, I glanced over at
Luscious.  Her eyes were shining with unshed tears of happiness,
witnessing what she later described as the most romantic thing she
had ever seen.

After the ceremony, everybody was milling around outside the church,
waiting for the happy couple to emerge.  We all had helium balloons
we were going to release, an alternative to tossing rice on them. 
When David and Lori came out the door, we all cheered and let go of
the strings, and a cloud of white balloons floated up into the
startlingly blue sky.

Lori turned around, first quickly and then once more, much more
slowly, taking in the whole spectacle, as if she wanted to imprint it
forever into her memory banks.  She stopped for just a moment when
she saw Kayla and me, and she smiled so sweetly at us, it was an
instant of time that I will remember for the rest of my days.

A couple of hours later, we were standing in line to greet the
newlywed couple at the reception.  Lori and David had booked a
smaller ballroom at one of the lakefront hotels in the city.  There
was a bar set up in each of the back corners of the room, a disk
jockey had his equipment lined up against the front wall in front of
the small dance floor, and there were a dozen big round tables spread
out through the room, each with eight chairs around it.  The head
table was a long rectangle against the left side wall, with ten
chairs, all facing into the room.  I had the little card with our
table assignment in the pocket of my suit coat.  I had a tie on, but
it was tight, and I wasn't very comfortable.  I must have grown out
of my shirt collar sometime in the past year, I thought.  Kayla had
on a dress that resembled a fancy sundress, a flowery thing that
swirled around her knees as she moved.

Lori's sister Joannie was matron of honor, and when we shook her
hand, she didn't recognize me, which was understandable, considering
how many people were going through the line, and the fact that we had
only met once before, briefly.  She automatically shook our hands and
passed us on to Lori, turning back to greet the next people behind
Kay and me.

Lori's eyes lit up when she saw us, and she hugged me to her tightly.

"Oh, Sean, thank you so much for coming," she murmured in my ear.

I put my arms around her, hugging her back.  "I wouldn't have missed
it for anything," I said.

She finally, almost reluctantly, let me go, and turned to Kayla,
wrapping her up in an equally big hug.  While she was greeting
Luscious, I turned to David.

"Mr. P!" he cried out.  He stuck his meaty paw out for me to grasp,
and gave me a big, strong handshake.

"Congratulations, Mr. McMasters," I said.

"Mr. McMasters!"  He shook his head in denial.  "I don't think so. 
If you don't call me David, don't you call me anything at all," he
said with a big laugh.

He was still shaking my hand.  "Okay, then, David," I agreed.  He
let my hand loose from his grip, and gently, as if he was handling a
china doll, took Kayla into his arms and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm so glad you two could make it here," he said to her.

Kayla, for her part, had tears of joy in her eyes.  She couldn't say
anything, so she just nodded.  When he let her go, she grabbed onto
my arm and held herself next to me.

David turned to the older gentleman standing next to him.  He was
the man who had taken Lori down the aisle at the church.

"Sean, Kayla, I'd like to introduce Tom Wilkinson."  Tom held out
his hand, and I shook it.

"So, this is the young man who has been teaching my grandsons how to
play soccer," he said warmly.

"Tom is Lori's father-in-law, her late husband's father," David
informed us.  "He graciously agreed to give Lori away, as her
surrogate father, at the wedding."

I must have looked a little puzzled.  "Lori's father is deceased,"
explained Tom.  "Even though my son, Lori's first husband, is gone,
my wife and I love her as the daughter we never had.  I was honored
to be able to walk her down the aisle today."

David put his arm around Tom's shoulder, by way of thanks, before
turning back to greet the next well-wishers.

A familiar voice caught my attention.

"Hello, Sean, honey."

I moved down to say hello to Wendy Marcus, standing next to Tom
Wilkinson.  She reached out to hug me, but I sidestepped her and
turned to introduce her to Kayla, who gave me a curious, questioning
look.

"Kay, this is one of Lori's best friends," I said.  "Wendy Marcus,
this is my girlfriend, Kayla Lehigh."

Wendy held out her hand, and Kay shook it.  Distractedly, I wondered
why women shook hands the way they did.  Another unsolvable mystery.

"I heard you moved away," I said.

Wendy sighed.  "Arthur and I are divorced," she said, rather too
matter-of-factly.  "Justin and I moved back east to be closer to my
folks."

I looked around, suddenly missing seeing Davey and Kip.  "Is Justin
here, too?" I asked.

She smiled.  "Yes, he's running around here somewhere," she
confirmed.  "I know he's looking forward to seeing you, too."

"I'll look for him," I said.  Kay and I continued down the receiving
line, until, finally, we reached the end.  We wandered around,
looking for our table.  We found it, over close by the speakers, and,
since we were the first ones from our table to arrive, we chose seats
that faced the head table and the dance floor.

"Would you like a Coke or something?" I asked Luscious.

"Coke would be fine," she replied.  She favored me with one of her
patented smiles, and I walked over toward the closest bar.  As I was
standing there, waiting for the bartender to fill two glasses with
soda, a triple tornado hit me.

"Sean!"  "Sean!"  "Sean!"

Davey, Kip, and Justin nearly knocked me down, running into my legs
as the three of them swarmed me.

"Hey, guys, how are you doing?"

"We're having fun, Sean!" said Kip.

"It's pretty neat, isn't it?" asked Davey.

"What's that, champ?" I asked.

"That David is going to be living with us," he replied.

I smiled.  "Yes, it is," I agreed.  "You like him, I guess."

"Oh, yeah, he's pretty neat, for an old guy.  Not as fun as you, but
he's pretty fun."

"And how are you, Justin?  I heard you moved away."

"Yeah, but I'm really glad to be back.  I'm staying with Davey and
Kip this week, you know."

"No, I didn't know," I said.  "Really?"

"Yep," he replied.  "Me and my mom are staying at their house, while
Mr. McMasters and Mrs. Wilkinson... oops, I mean Mr. and Mrs.
McMasters..."  He covered his mouth and giggled.  "You know what I
mean," he continued.  "While they go on their vacation."

"Ah.  Your mom is staying and watching you kids," I reasoned.

"Right!"  They all started leaping about in agreement.  Wendy was
going to have her hands full while Lori and David were gone.  I just
shook my head as I watched them race off in search of adventure.

By the time I got back to the table, another couple had joined
Kayla.  Molly O'Toole and her prom date, Alex Baumgartner, were just
settling in next to her.

"Hi, Sean," said Alex.

"Hey, Alex, how's it going?"  I handed Kayla her Coke as Molly stood
back up and moved around her chair to hug me.

"How you doing, Molly?" I asked.

"I'm doing really good," she whispered, holding me tightly.

We sat back down and watched as the bars got busier, and the tables
began filling.  Alex had gotten drinks for himself and Molly, and the
four of us made silly remarks about the other guests we saw.  The
little kids were all assigned to one table near the back, with a
couple of girls who looked like they might be in college riding herd
over the pack.  I didn't know if they were friends of Lori or David,
or if they had been hired for the occasion to watch the kids, but
they were paying attention to all of them, even the ones, such as
Davey and Kip, who would leap up occasionally and streak over to
another table or group of adults.

Once they saw Molly sitting with me, the two of them ran over to say
hello to their favorite babysitter.  Molly was wearing a beautiful
lavender satin dress, but she still let the boys climb up into her
lap, accepting the wrinkles along with the love they were displaying
toward her.

Our table filled up, but the only other people I knew were Coach
Bill Blaisdell, who sat down next to me, and John and Mavis
Christanapoulis, whose son, Joey, played on the Warriors team.

Bill introduced his wife.  "Sean, this is Maryanne, my wife. 
Maryanne, this is the legendary Sean Porter."

I reached across Bill to shake Maryanne's hand.  She was a small,
mousy woman with a timid smile, but she shook my hand with a good
grip.

"I've heard so much about you, Sean, it's a pleasure to finally meet
you," she said.

I introduced Kayla, Molly and Alex to the Christanapoulises, and to
Bill and his wife.  As the evening progressed, I was pleasantly
surprised to find out that Maryanne, belying her plain, frumpy looks
and rather dour demeanor, was actually a very bright third grade
teacher, and possessed a dry, acerbic wit that had me chuckling
appreciatively throughout dinner.

There were a lot of people hanging around the bar and standing at
tables, visiting with acquaintances and family, as the room filled
up.  There was no sign of any of the bridal party at all.  I had been
to a couple of weddings as a kid, when younger siblings of one of my
parents had gotten married, but the activities and traditions of
weddings and receptions were just beginning to make sense to me, so I
was interested and trying to pay attention to what was happening all
around us.

The DJ turned down his music, and grabbed a microphone.

"If you could all find your seats, please?" he requested.  The noise
level in the room elevated for just a moment as knots of people
dispersed, conversations ended, and everybody not huddled around the
bar trying to grab one more drink before sitting down moved toward
their respective tables.

"I'd like to draw your attention toward the doors," continued the
DJ, once the room settled down sufficiently.  "First, I would like to
introduce the parents of the groom, Mr. and Mrs. Ralph McMasters."

David's parents entered the room as everybody applauded.  They waved
to friends, and walked toward their table, holding hands.

"And, for the bride, introducing Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Wilkinson."

Mr. Wilkinson and his wife came in, and walked to the same table,
looking as happy and proud as any parent.

The three bridesmaids and groomsmen were introduced next, but the
only one I knew was Wendy.  They entered the room and walked slowly,
amid the applause, to the head table, where they remained standing.

"Now, the matron of honor, Mrs. Joanie Monfort, and the best man,
Mr. Ronald McMasters."

Lori's sister, accompanied by a man who could only be David's
brother, came in, and also walked over to the head table.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, would you please stand, and welcome,
for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. David McMasters."

The applause, along with a few cheers, got very loud as we all
stood.  Lori and David stepped into the room, paused for just a
moment, and then, with huge smiles on both of their faces, walked
slowly toward their table, waving to everybody.  It was an amazing
sight to see.

The happy couple finally sat down, a signal for the rest of us to
take our seats, and almost immediately I heard the chime-like ringing
of forks tapping against water glasses.  David and Lori looked out
into the room, and then leaned in toward each other and kissed.

Coach Bill, in the meantime, apparently knew what was coming up,
because he stood and grabbed the champagne bottle that was on our
table.  There was also a bottle of white wine and a bottle of red
wine, as there was on every table, except for the one with the
littler kids.  Bill started filling glasses, starting with the ladies
at the table.  When he moved around to Molly's setting, she demurred.

"No, thank you.  I'm only 17," she said.

"Nonsense," said Bill.  "It's for the toast.  Just clink your
glasses together, and don't drink any, if you don't want."  He gave
her an exaggerated wink.  "But a little sip probably would be okay,
considering the circumstances."

Molly blushed just a little, and smiled.  I couldn't remember the
last time I saw her blush.  It was further confirmation, to my mind,
that she was nearly healed.

Bill moved on and filled Kayla's glass, and then mine, and moved
around and made sure everybody at the table had a glass.  I glanced
around and saw similar activity at many of the tables.

After a few minutes, Ron McMasters stood up and came over to get the
microphone.  He stood in the middle of the dance floor, and the room
hushed, anticipating the best man's toast.

"Since I'm the older brother, I can safely say I've known David his
whole life.  Which is something he can't say."  He paused as laughter
tittered through the room.  He turned and faced the head table.  "As
kids, I used to tell you that I taught you everything you know.  I'm
here to confess something to you, though, David.  I may have taught
you everything you know, but that doesn't mean I taught you
everything I know."  Again, he paused and waited for the laughter to
die down.

"David, for the longest time, I've known that you have been
searching for something, something that you didn't even realize you
were missing, searching for a long, long time.  There are lots of
people here tonight who know you as a happy, high-spirited soul,
which is true.  But those who know you best also recognize that,
despite your laughter, despite your outgoing personality, despite the
jokes and the hearty handshakes, there was something missing in your
life, something essential, something that would complete you.

"Eighteen months ago, what was missing was now found, and you have
changed, my friend and brother.

"And Lori, you beautiful and wonderful agent of change, you cannot
know how you have built up this man, made him whole.  For that alone,
I would love you as a sister.  But you also bring to him your two
sons, Davey and Kip, giving him the stability and companionship of
family.  For these gifts and talents, and for your love of my
brother, on behalf of my parents, on behalf of my own wife and
children, I am honored to welcome you into the McMasters clan. 
Slainte!"

The clink of glasses raised and touched in toast rang throughout the
room, along with the sound of sniffles over the sentiment of Ron's
touching comments.  Ron drank from his glass, and raised it once
again toward David and Lori, who smiled and applauded in
appreciation.  Tom Wilkinson stood and walked over, taking the
microphone from Ron, and the room hushed once again.

"I hate to follow such a wonderful speech with my own hastier toast,
but there's something I need to say," he started.  He cleared his
throat.  "For those of you who don't know me, my name is Thomas
Wilkinson, Tom, and up until about 4:00 this afternoon, Lori was my
daughter-in-law."  He paused a moment, taking a deep breath to calm
himself.  It was obviously a struggle for him to make this speech.

"My only son, Tom Junior, was Lori's husband, and the father of her
two boys.  He passed away over two and a half years ago, and there's
not a day goes by that my wife and I don't miss him terribly.  Our
consolation could be found in our grandsons, and in the wife he left.
Lori, Evelyn and I have known you ever since Tom brought you home to
meet us on that Thanksgiving Day, so long ago, and we have loved you
as the daughter we never had almost since that day.  It was so
obvious to us that Tom loved you with all his heart, and you loved
him.  We are so glad he had such great happiness while he was with
us, and I know that he is looking down upon this celebration with
pride and great joy at seeing you able to find love again, after so
long and such a trial.

"And David, your bride might be a McMasters now, but you, too, are
welcomed into a new family, the Wilkinson clan."  He raised his glass
high, tears streaming down his seamed cheeks unnoticed.  
"Congratulations to you both, long life filled with happiness.  You
compliment each other."  And he drank, as the room burst into
thunderous applause.

The bubbles in the champagne tickled my nose as I drank from the
glass.  I offhandedly noted that the carbonation in the wine was much
stronger than in sodas, and wondered why.  Kayla giggled just a
little at the sensation, and I turned and laughed with her, just
happy to be with her on this special evening.  I happened to glance
over at Molly, who was making a face after tasting the champagne,
while Alex was looking at his glass critically, watching the bubbles
appear, some of them sticking to the sides of the glass.  He was
swirling a mouthful as he studied his glass.  Science geeks, I
thought to myself.  He'll have the whole process figured out by the
time dinner's served.

Kayla, perhaps reading my thoughts, reached up and kissed me on the
cheek, pulling my attention away from Alex and Molly, back where it
belonged.  I put my arm around her and pulled her to me, and kissed
the side of her face, near her ear, and then we sat down and waited
for our dinner to be served.

Between courses, the newlyweds continued making their rounds,
visiting each table.  While the salad plates were being cleared, they
came by our table.  David had his best man with him.  Lori came over
and stood between Kay's chair and mine, a hand on the back of each of
our chairs as she watched her husband.

"Is everybody having fun?" David asked.  We all made appropriate
sounds of agreement at once.  "Great, that's wonderful.  So are we,
aren't we, Mrs. W.?"  He shot an exaggerated wink at Lori, who smiled
and blushed.

"Uh, sorry, David, but shouldn't that be Mrs. M. now?" Bill reminded
him.

"Damn, you're right," boomed David.  "Y'know, I've been calling her
Mrs. W. for so long, it'll take me a little time to correct myself." 
He leaned in toward the middle of the table and whispered
conspiratorially.  "I'm still having a hard time believing that she
agreed to this, anyway.  I mean, why me?  Do I really deserve having
such a beautiful wife?"

We all laughed, but a chill ran down my spine.  How often had a
similar thought occurred to me, about girls I had dated?  And,
especially, the gorgeous creature sitting beside me right then.  I
reached for Kayla's hand, under cover of the tablecloth, and held it
gratefully.  I never wanted to let it go.

"Anyway," David continued, "for those who don't know my best man,
this is my brother Ron."  Ron nodded in acknowledgment.  "He's got
something he needs to let you all know about, concerning this
evening.  Sweetheart?"  He held out his hand toward Lori.  She leaned
down and whispered to both Kayla and me, "I'll be back after dinner
to visit, I promise."  She took David's hand in hers, and they moved
off to the next table.

Ron said, "You might know that Lori's first husband died in a
motorcycle accident almost three years ago.  Because of this, she and
David have reserved a block of 10 rooms here at the hotel, and I have
all the keys here in my pocket."  He patted his jacket pocket, and we
could all hear the jingle of keys.  "Lori respectfully asks that
anybody who feels like they have indulged a little too much tonight,
please come to me and get a key, and stay overnight here, on them. 
They don't want to take the chance of anybody getting hurt because of
their celebration.  Okay?"  He looked around the table, and
especially at the four of us younger people.  "Don't be embarrassed
to ask.  We want everybody to get home safe and sound, either tonight
or tomorrow.  This is very important to them, and especially to the
bride."  He stood, glanced to the next table, where David and Lori
were talking, and nodded.  "Enjoy yourselves tonight, folks," he
said, smiling, and he moved off to join his brother and Lori.

"That's very generous of them, and quite thoughtful," said Bill.

"That's Lori," I said.

The main course was coming out from the kitchen, so David and Lori
walked back to their seats at the head table.  They no sooner sat
down than some knucklehead started in with the fork against the water
glass again, and very quickly, there were several copycats from
around the room.  David shrugged, and leaned over to meet Lori, and
they kissed for the crowd.

Maryanne said, "It's too bad the tradition didn't develop requiring
people to knock their wine glasses against their teeth hard enough to
make them ring.  Maybe then this foolishness wouldn't be so tempting."

I was just taking a drink from my Coke, and very nearly spewed soda
all over the table.  I had to agree with her.  It was by far the most
irritating wedding reception tradition I had ever witnessed,
considering the frequency that it happened.

"Here, Sean," John said, reaching for the bottle of white wine. 
"Try this, instead."  He poured a glass for me, and about a half of a
glass for Kayla.  He pointed the bottle toward Molly and cocked his
eyebrow, but she declined.  Alex, always in the interest of
discovery, held out his glass, and John poured some wine into it for
him.

"Thanks," said Alex, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses back up on his
nose.

By the time dessert was finished, the adults at our table had
finished off the bottle of red wine, and Kayla, Molly, Alex and I had
killed the bottle of white.  The DJ was getting ready to crank up the
music for a few minutes before the obligatory dances, so John and
Mavis got up and scavenged at a couple of other tables, grabbing half-
empty bottles of wine and bringing them back to our table.

As we sat back down, Bill leaned over and said to me in a stage
whisper, "I think we'd better grab a couple of those keys from the
best man."

"Good idea," I replied.  "But what about your kids?"

He grinned.  "Staying with Maryanne's parents for the weekend."

"Good plan."

"Absolutely," he agreed.  "Will you guys be able to stay over?  What
about your parents?  I'd hate to see you drive home tonight."

"I'll call them later, and let them know that the party's going too
late to drive home.  They'll understand.  I hope."

"Do you want me to talk to them?" he offered.

I thought for a moment.  "I've got a better idea," I said.

I leaned behind Kayla and tapped Molly on the shoulder, and quietly
explained what I wanted to try.  She thought it was a good idea, too,
so we agreed that she would call my parents, and I would call hers,
and let them know that we all would feel safer if we stayed downtown.
Kayla and Alex decided they would make their own calls, after seeing
how Molly and I managed.  We all figured that if we could convince
one set of parents, the others would fall in line, and Molly's
parents would be most likely to agree, as long as they were under the
impression that we would all be staying together, and that there
would be adults staying, too.

We stepped out into the hall and found a bank of pay phones.  I
dropped a quarter in and dialed Molly's number.  Mrs. O'Toole picked
up on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mrs. O'Toole, this is Sean Porter."

"Hello, Sean.  Is everything okay?"  She sounded suddenly nervous.

"Oh, yes, everything's fine," I hurried to reassure her.  "We're
down here at the wedding, and it's been just great."

"Oh, good."  I could hear her relaxing, just in her inflection. 
"What's up, Sean?"

I stumbled through an explanation about how late the reception was
going to be, and the long drive, and how David and Lori had set aside
rooms, and how Coach Bill and his wife were planning on staying, and
about how the four of us could share a room to sleep in, so we
wouldn't be driving all the way home so late.

She didn't sound very convinced.

"Why are you calling, instead of Molly?" she asked.  Oops.  We
hadn't thought that far ahead.

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that the four of us would stay
together for the party, and in the room together, so we would all
keep each other... safe."

"Is Molly there?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Put her on the phone, please."

I handed the handset to Molly, and shrugged.

She put the receiver to her ear.  "Hi, Mom."

After a moment, she said, "No," followed by a "Yes," another "Yes,"
and an "Okay."  She hung up the phone, and grinned.  "She said it was
a good idea, as long as we all stuck together."

"All right!"  I hesitated.  "Do you still think you should talk to
my parents?"

"Sure."  She dialed the phone.

Fifteen minutes later, we were all set.  My parents were just as
glad that I wasn't driving home while the drunks were out.  Once they
found out that Lori and David had arranged for the rooms, and that
Coach Bill and his wife were also staying, they were okay with it.

Kayla's parents were the hardest sell.  They didn't want their 15-
year-old daughter staying overnight with a boy, even under these
seemingly innocuous circumstances.  They even offered to drive down
and pick us up after the party.  It was only after pointing out to
them that we would just have to drive all the way down again tomorrow
to pick up my car that they started relenting, just a little. 
Finally, they told us they would call my parents and Molly's parents,
to confirm what we were telling them.  We gave them the number of the
pay phone, and a few minutes later, they called back and reluctantly
agreed that it did, in fact, make sense.

Alex's parents were the easiest.  It sounded so logical when he
called them that they immediately agreed.  It made the rest of us
wonder why we didn't have Alex call all our parents.

At the end, we all ran back into the ballroom holding hands, our own
little conga line that threaded its way from the doorway back to our
table by the speakers.





(Continued in Chapter 33)


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

Welcome to the Church of The Reverend Cotton Mather. This story is
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for the intent of profit. Permission is freely given for anyone to
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is no intent to charge money or barter for the privilege of acquiring
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(Copyright 2003, Rev. Cotton Mather)

E-Mail all comments to RevCottonMather@hotmail.com
Don't be shy!  I enjoy hearing from you.
---------------------------------------------------------------------



PLAYING TO WIN:
PLAYING THE GAME, BOOK II


by Reverend Cotton Mather




- 33 -

THE GIFT



By the time we got back, the newlyweds' first dance was taking
place.  Everybody stood around the dance floor and watched David and
Lori dance together, looking comfortable in each other's arms as they
moved beautifully in harmony to "The Way You Look Tonight".  It was
Thomas Wilkinson's turn next to dance with the bride, and he guided
her around the dance floor with flair, proud as a rooster, as David
danced with his mother.

Eventually, the tempo picked up, and Kayla kicked off her shoes as
we shucked and jived to the music.  There were quite a few older
couples jitterbugging to Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis, but I could never
get the hang of it, so Luscious and I squeezed in between those who
knew what they were doing, and waved our arms and stamped our feet to
the beat pounding out of the speakers.

After about three songs, I was breathing like I had run a couple of
miles, and I was sweating right through my shirt.  It was time to get
rid of the jacket and tie.  Kay and I headed back to the table, where
John and Bill were deep in conversation.  When they saw us coming,
John reached over and poured us each a glass of white wine.  I also
got us some water.  Dancing was a lot more aerobic than just wine or
soda was going to be able to overcome.  We sat down for a moment, and
I watched Molly and Alex, still out on the floor.  Molly, from years
in gymnastics and cheerleading, had a good sense of rhythm as well as
a natural grace, but poor Alex looked like a scarecrow caught in a
high wind.  I chuckled, and then remembered that if it was as okay
with Molly as it seemed to be, it was certainly fine by me.  Besides,
I knew I looked funny out there, too, and had no room to be making
fun of Alex's dancing abilities.  In fact, Eric once accused me of
having Terminal White Boy's Dancing Disease, something I couldn't
deny.

I put my arm around Kayla's shoulder, and she moved in a little
closer to me, her hand resting lightly on my knee.  When the next
slow song started, she stood up and pulled me out of my chair and
back onto the wood floor, holding my hand as she led me.  She twirled
and ended up, quite naturally, in my arms, and her body just seemed
to mold itself to me as she anticipated where my feet were leading
us.  I dropped her hand and put both my arms around her waist, and
she wrapped hers around my neck and rested her head on my shoulder as
we swayed to the ballad.  We occasionally bumped lightly into another
couple nearby, but we didn't care.  We were cozy in each other's arms.

Another slow song started up, and I felt a tap on my shoulder.  I
let go of Kayla, and David swept her up into his arms, as Lori,
dazzling in her wedding gown, smiled at me.  She held her arms out
just a little, an invitation I was helpless to resist.

As she nestled in to me, I said softly, "You look absolutely
beautiful, Lori."

I could feel her smile against my shoulder.  "Thank you, Sean.  I
can't believe this is all real."

"Oh, it's real, and I don't know anybody more deserving than you."

She held me a little tighter.  "Oh, Sean, you are such a great
friend.  I wouldn't be here now, if it weren't for you."

That didn't make any sense at all to me.  What did I do to bring her
and David to this marriage?  "I don't think that's true at all," I
said.

She stopped us, right there in the middle of the dance floor, and
looked me straight in the eye, a warm and kind expression on her
lovely face.  "It is true, my wonderful darling young man.  I know
it, deep down, even if you don't recognize it."  She put her head
back onto my shoulder, and we started slowly stepping to the music
again.  "You convinced me to take a chance in life again, Sean. 
After that night... I realized that I had been walking around half
dead.  I had too much missing from my life, living like I was, just
trying to take care of the boys and all..."  She sniffled just a
little.  "David had been asking me to go to dinner with him for a
long time, and I kept on refusing him.  I'm surprised he didn't just
give up on me.  But then you... and I... anyway, the next week, when
he asked if I would join him for lunch, I accepted."  She laughed
just a little at the remembrance.  "I think he nearly fell out of his
chair when I said I would go out with him.  'Persistence pays off,'
he said.  And that was the start."

The song ended.  We let go of each other, but then Lori put both her
hands on my upper arms.  "I loved Tom with all my heart, Sean, and I
will always love him.  But it was time to move on.  You helped me to
see that.  And, maybe, I accepted a little push from Wendy, too." 
She blushed just a little.  "But I owe you thanks, and much more,
Sean."  With that, she hugged me to her tightly, and then let me go
and, without another word, turned to David and took his arm.  He gave
me a big smile and a thumbs-up, and led his bride off the dance floor
as Kayla came up and took my arm, a dazzling smile on her face.

"He is just the sweetest man!" she said as we walked off the dance
floor.

I glanced over at her, startled.  What did he say to her?  Kayla
didn't say anything more, however.

Alex and Molly finally took a break from twisting and shouting, and
came over to sit out a few.  Alex's face was a bright red, nearly the
color of his hair, and he was panting heavily.

"That's a lot of work out there," he said.

"Yeah, girls like Molly and Kayla make it look easy, but it ain't,"
I agreed.

"Girls like Molly and Kayla make us look good out there," he said
wisely.

Both Molly and Kayla smiled at that, and Molly leaned over and,
despite his sweaty face, gave him a kiss on his cheek, and poor Alex
turned an even brighter scarlet.

"Kayla, I think we wore these two guys out," said Molly.  "Let's go
find ourselves some younger men who can keep up with us."

Kayla nodded, and the two of them stood and walked away together. 
The prettiest girl in the Junior Class, strawberry blonde Molly, and
a walking dream, perhaps the loveliest girl in the entire school, my
own Luscious Kayla.  Alex and I just gazed at them as they receded,
both of us wordlessly appreciating our astounding luck.  We picked up
our wine glasses and clinked them together before taking a sip,
silently toasting each other.

"Hey, Sean, we'd better go find the guy with the keys before he runs
out of rooms," suggested Alex.

"Good plan," I agreed.

We looked around for David's brother, but didn't see him.  We walked
around the dance floor, looking for him.  We didn't find Ron, but we
did find his jacket, tossed carelessly across the back of his chair
at the head table.  On a saucer were four hotel keys, and a
handwritten note that said that they were first-come, first-serve,
and to help ourselves.  I grabbed a key, and we turned to go back to
our table, when Alex stopped, staring ahead.  I glanced around,
trying to figure out what he was looking at, but he wasn't looking at
anything.  He spun back around, reached over, and took a second key,
and put it in his pocket.

"You know, just in case..."  He blushed, but I knew what he meant. 
Just in case.  I fervently hoped Molly wasn't feeling "itchy" again. 
That was part of what got her into trouble before.  On the other
hand, I didn't think Alex was very experienced when it came to girls,
and I couldn't imagine a better tutor for him than Miss Molly O'Toole.

As we slipped back around the perimeter of the dance floor, we saw
Molly dancing with Davey, and Kayla dancing with Kip.  Davey looked a
little embarrassed, as befitted a mature 10-year-old, but Kip was
staring rapturously up at Luscious Kayla as she moved him around. 
She was smiling happily at his attentions, looking as angelic for him
as she could.

As soon as the song was over, Davey let go of Molly and ran away. 
Kip was a little more reluctant to let Kayla out of his sight, but
the pull of following his older brother proved to be too much, and he
raced after Davey.  The girls spotted us, and motioned us over to
them.  Molly stepped over to me, and held out her hand.  Kayla, not
to be outdone, moved over and took Alex's arm.  Ol' Blue Eyes started
crooning about saying something stupid as Molly and I slid closer
together, and I wrapped my arms around her waist so we could dance
close, box-stepping in our own little square of space.

"Did Davey enjoy his dance?" I murmured.

"I think I scared him," she said quietly, a smile evident in her
voice.

"Maybe he doesn't like thinking that his favorite babysitter is
really a girly-girl," I said.

"Maybe," she agreed.

"After all, he's never seen you this dressed up before."

"True."  She rested her head on my shoulder.  I could feel her
muscles relaxing as I held her and we swayed together.

"This feels so nice," she whispered, almost to herself.

"You doing okay, Molly?" I asked quietly.

She knew what I meant.  I knew she was doing okay tonight, being at
the wedding with Kayla and Alex and me, but I was more concerned with
how she was feeling about herself.  I was hoping that the combination
of the wine, the prospect of spending the night downtown, and dancing
closely with me wasn't making her revert back into a more troubled
Molly O'Toole.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Her breasts pressed
against me as her chest rose, but it was an unconscious action, no
hidden trickery that I could detect, so I did my best to ignore it.

"I'm doing okay, Sean," she said.  She hesitated, and then stopped
moving with me.  She took a small step back from me, keeping her arms
around my neck as she stared up into my eyes, a serious expression on
her face.

Suddenly, she smiled, a relaxed and happy and easy smile, and my
good friend Molly was there, like she had never left.  "I'm doing
fine, Sean Porter.  I'm doing just fine."  And she hugged me
fiercely, pulling me to her by my neck.  She kissed me beneath my
ear.  "Now dance with me," she commanded.

Who was I to refuse?





The four of us stayed until the DJ finally called an end to the
music.  We had gone through the Chicken Dance a long time ago, and
"Hava Nagila" had been danced and sung.  Garters were twanged like
slingshots, and bouquets had been tossed.  The room had thinned out
quite a bit by then.  All the old folks had escaped the loud music
long ago, and the kids were all gone, too.  The two college girls who
were watching Davey, Kip, Justin, and the other younger kids turned
out to be Ron's oldest daughter's two college roommates, hired for
the evening, and they had rounded up their charges and taken them out
about an hour before things finally wound down.  David and Lori were
still there, making sure everybody had a good time, accepting last-
minute congratulations, and posing with tired good nature for one
last photograph.

Molly and Alex insisted we go with them to personally thank the disk
jockey, and we all shook his hand.  He looked a little surprised, and
very pleased.  Apparently this sort of politeness wasn't something he
saw very often.  We then walked over and said goodnight to David and
Lori.

"Are you all staying over tonight?" asked David.

I jingled our hotel key, and hoped Alex kept his in his pocket.  I
wanted David and Lori to assume the four of us would be sharing a
room to sleep in, nothing more.

"Good, I'm glad," said Lori.  "I would be up half the night worrying
about you guys, if I thought you were driving home so late."

"Nope, no need to worry about us," said Molly.  She hugged Lori, and
then gave David a hug.  Kayla followed suit.  Alex settled for
shaking their hands, but I took Lori in my arms one last time.

"Thank you, Sean.  Take care."

I let her go, and held out my hand to David.  He grabbed it, and
then pulled me in and gave me a big bear hug.

"Thanks for everything, Mr. P.," he said.  "We'll see you when we
get back from Hawaii.  Won't we, Mrs. M.?"

He let me go, and clapped me on the back.

Lori laughed.  "Of course we will," she agreed.






Alex's key was for a room two doors down from us.  They waved as
they passed us by, holding hands on their way down the hall.

"Meet you for breakfast?" asked Molly as they passed.

"Okay," I said.  "What time?"

Molly glanced at Alex.  "Call us when you wake up," he suggested. 
Molly nodded.

"If you haven't heard from us by the time you guys are up and ready,
give us a call, then," I said.

I opened the door, and stepped aside to let Kayla go in.  She
stopped in the doorway and looked around.  I thought she was probably
nervous.  I knew I certainly was.  The room looked small, and the two
queen-sized beds looked huge, dominating the room.  Or maybe it was
just our focus.

I put a hand on Kayla's shoulder gently.  "Are you okay with this?"
I asked quietly.

She turned and smiled.  "I'm okay.  I'm just a little..."

"Yeah," I finished for her.  "So am I."

We stepped into the room, and I closed the door and turned the lock.

Kayla carried her small purse with her as she walked to the bathroom
door, and turned back to me.  "Turn out the light, but let's leave
the curtains open, okay?"

I glanced out the big window.  We were up high, on the 23rd floor of
the big hotel, and the city lights were spread out in a soft glow
below us, giving us privacy while at the same time providing us with
just enough dim light into the room.

While Kay was in the bathroom, I tossed the bedspread over the
stuffed chair in the corner, and turned down the blanket and sheet. 
I slipped my shoes off, hung up my suit coat, and took off my suit
pants, hanging them up by a belt loop over the hook of a hanger.  I
took off my shirt, which was pretty wrinkled from all the sweaty
dancing, and hung it up on another hanger.  I switched off the light,
and got into bed in just my underwear, nervous and jumpy as a mouse
being chased by a hungry cat.  My dick was as hard as steel,
anticipating a whole night with my Luscious.

Finally, Kayla opened the bathroom door.  She left the light on, but
closed the door until just a sliver of light came through.  She had
taken off her gown, and was wearing just her bra and panties, and she
had taken down her hair, so that it spilled across her shoulders and
down, the ends flaring across her covered breasts.  She stood there
by the door for just a moment, her hands curled into small fists,
letting her eyes adjust to the dimness of the room, and perhaps
subconsciously letting me see her, vulnerable and beautiful.  She was
smiling hesitantly, suddenly more shy and uncertain than I had ever
seen her, and my heart went out to her.

"I'm over here," I said softly.

She came over and slipped between the sheets.  I put my arm around
her shoulder, and she quite naturally snuggled up against me, her
arms clenched to her as she lay on her side, her head nestled against
my shoulder.

"You're the boss," I whispered.  "We only do what you want to do."

I felt her nod.  "Okay," she said.  She giggled and rolled over,
away from me.  "Goodnight, then," she said.

"What?" I asked, panicking.  I turned toward her, a little shaken,
and put a hand on her shoulder.  She turned toward me and giggled,
her nervousness skittering away with her little prank as she took me
in her arms and lifted up her face to kiss me.

Her lips were soft and pliant, moving slightly against my mouth as
we made our tiny adjustments toward each other.  She scooted closer
to me, putting her arm around me, and I teased her with just the tip
of my tongue, tracing the pattern of her lipstick.  We kissed each
other softly, unhurriedly, for a long time, just happy to be together
like this.  I could dimly feel the afterburners kick in somewhere
deep in my midsection, and I held her to me a little tighter, and
started kissing her cheeks, her eyelids, and the corners of her mouth.

Kayla reciprocated by nibbling on my lower lip, concentrating on my
scar, as I reached around her, searching for the hooks and eyes that
were keeping me from being able to caress the parts of her I longed
to touch.  She turned a little in my arms, making it easier to
release her bra, and she sat up momentarily, once I got it undone,
and tossed it to the floor before settling back against me.  I ran my
hand up her flat tummy to her small breast, and clutched it as if it
was a lifeline, marveling all over again at the wonders of the female
form.  As I held her breast in my hand, I felt the nipple thicken and
swell, the nub poking my palm, a spot of concentrated heat that I
knew would soon expand and consume me.

Kayla arched her back a little, pressing her breast harder into my
hand, and she kissed me hard, her tongue on the attack.  I heard a
little moan escape her as she thrust her tongue into my mouth in
search of my own, and I squeezed her boob, kneading the flesh roughly
before running my hand across her chest, my fingertips tracing the
valley between her breasts, and taking hold of her other mound, my
thumb rubbing across her distended nipple.

She broke the kiss and threw her head back, panting in desire, and I
took the opportunity to suck and nibble at her tender throat.  She
groaned and lay back, giving in to my attentions, and I rolled with
her, so that I was on top, covering her torso with my chest and arms,
as I tasted the hot and salty skin of her neck and throat.  I licked
and kissed my way very slowly down her throat, to her chest,
exploring and experimenting as my lips moved from her hard collarbone
to the swells of her breasts.  As my mouth got nearer her fleshy
mound, my fingers were on the underside, gently pushing her boob up,
so that her nipple stood out, proud and erect and ruby red as it
anticipated feeling my lips and teeth.  I pinched the distended nub,
and was rewarded with her rubbing her knee up and down my leg, an
unconscious reaction she felt in her center that caused her limbs to
move in sympathy.

I licked around the areola of her breast, teasing as I circled her
breast with my tongue and lips, but not yet ready to give her the
momentary satisfaction of feeling me suck on her swollen boob.  She
was still arching her back, pushing her chest up to try to increase
our contact on her pressure point.  Finally, I satisfied my own urge,
and nearly sent her over the edge by clamping my lips onto her nipple
and sucking it into my mouth.  At the same time, I grabbed her pussy,
through her panties, and ran my fingertips up her slot between her
parted legs, letting the cotton crotch of her panties soak up some of
the moisture that was leaking from her.  She squealed and bucked up
against my hand, already close to her first orgasm of the night.

"Oh, God, Sean, please..." 

"What, Kay?" I asked, a little panicked that she might want me to
stop.

"Take them off," she gasped.  "Please take them off.  I want to feel
your fingers..."  She threw the sheet and blanket off of us and
kicked them to the foot of the bed.

I scooted down and grasped the elastic waistband of her panties as I
knelt between her spread knees, and gently pulled.  Kayla lifted up
her ass to help, and then bent her knees and lifted her legs up
together so I could shuck her panties down her legs and off.  I got a
good view of one of the most precious sights in the world: moist,
rosy pussy lips that are flushed and swollen with desire, on a girl I
loved.

I stayed where I was and ran my hands up her smooth calves while her
legs were raised up, and I gently guided them apart as she lowered
them around me.  I let my hands slide up the inside of her thighs. 
Could her skin really be that smooth?  I glanced up and saw that she
was lying back against the pillow, eyes closed, her flattened breasts
rising and falling rapidly as she concentrated on my fingers as they
caressed her marvelous legs.  Her leg muscles were quivering
slightly, and I knew she was still close to coming.  I wanted to
prolong her pleasure for awhile longer, though, so I moved very
slowly, tickling her tender skin along the insides of her thighs,
from her knees nearly to her juncture, up almost to her needy center,
and then back down again, agonizingly slowly, building her up but not
letting her crest.  The soft skin of her thighs was giving off an
incredible amount of heat, and it was having a dizzying effect on me
as I touched her.

She unconsciously dropped her hand down to touch her sex, and when
her fingers bumped against her swollen clit, she jerked.  I reached
up and took hold of her hand.

"No, sweetie," I whispered.  "Let me do it."

She allowed me to move her hand to her side, and I took pity on her,
pointing my tongue at her drooling lips and licking slowly, lovingly
from her flooded hole up, until I just touched her little button. 
Her stomach muscles began to spasm, and her breath was beginning to
hitch as her body anticipated her release, but I backed off until she
calmed down a little, concentrating, instead, on the layers of skin
on the outside of her pussy lips, tasting and lapping up her
lubricating oils.  When her breathing stabilized a little, I
teasingly blew onto her sensitive tissues, and used my thumbs to rub
lightly along the tender isthmus of skin between her leg and her
outer lips.  Her muscles began twitching again, and I tasted of her
oils again, this time with a broader stroke of my tongue along the
length of her vulva.  I dipped my tongue as far as I could into her
heated opening, lapping up her hot juices, and then delved among her
folds until I encountered her clitoris, poking out of its tiny
sheath.  I clamped my lips against her and sucked on her, drawing out
the sensitive bump, and then I tried to grasp it with my nibbling
lips.

Kayla huffed twice, her whole body clenched in anticipation, and she
grabbed the back of my head and held my mouth tight against her, and
she was flung over the edge.  A tiny, breathless scream escaped her,
and I was rewarded with a tiny discharge of heated fluid from her
over-stimulated pussy, a slightly metallic, tangy taste that almost
immediately set up an intense craving deep inside me.  My rock-hard
cock, held in place by my briefs and pressed against the mattress,
responded to the taste, pulsing and threatening to go off untouched.

Her body relaxed, and her hands fell from my head, back to her
sides.  I lifted up to take a look at her.  She was lying there,
dreamily unaware of anything except the last, fading explosions
flashing behind her closed eyelids, a small smile on her lovely face.
Her pale blonde hair was splayed around her head against the pillow,
tousled from her rolling her head as I licked and tasted her, and she
never looked more beautiful.  My cock twitched, the little head
desperately wanting to take over and plunge itself deep within her
steamy depths, but I managed to dissuade it by dropping back and
taking one long finger and running it through her folds to her hole,
and slowly dipping it into her, pausing as each knuckle passed her
portal, until it was fully inside her.

"Oh, God," she whispered, as she felt her body ramp up again.  She
reached up and tucked her fists under her chin, her small breasts
pressed together by her elbows, as I slowly withdrew from her, until
just my fingertip was being held within her by her clenching walls,
and then I pushed back, all the way in, and twisted my finger back
and forth.  Her hips began lurching up, perhaps trying to get more
depth out of my intruding finger.  I stuck out my tongue and lapped
up the juices that had begun to flow again, and I continued to pump
my finger in and out of her slowly.

After about a dozen times plunging one finger into her, I doubled
up, using both my index finger and my middle finger on her.  Her
vaginal walls expanded to accommodate the additional girth,
tightening around my intruding fingers.  Again, my cock twitched,
wanting to feel that pressure first-hand.  Once I had reached into
her as far as I could, again I twisted, this time rubbing her
clitoris with my thumb at the same time as I lapped up the moisture
that had leaked out onto her outer lips and across my knuckles.

The triple combination sent her off again.  Her body tensed and
arched, pressing her pussy harder against my face and hand.  I rolled
my eyes up and saw her clutching her breasts, twisting at her nipples
as her hips started bucking up hard.  She was breathing hard, little
screeches escaping her on each exhalation, and I could see her
stomach muscles tensing and spasming as she came.  I kept my fingers
buried deeply inside her, twisting them around as my thumb played a
tune on her clit, and I was rewarded again with another flood of her
tangy, orgasmic release against my tongue.  To help her along, I ran
my other hand up her tummy and slipped it under her hand on her
breast, and she pressed the back of my hand hard against her swollen
and sensitive breast as the waves of ecstasy flowed through her.

She fell back against the mattress bonelessly, and seemed to barely
have the strength to reach down and take my head in her hands and try
to lift my face up and out of her crotch.

"Oh, God, no more," she said breathlessly.  "I think I died.  No
more, Sean."

I scooted up and lay down next to her.  My little head, poking up
out of the elastic waistband of my underwear, was pleading with me to
lay down on top of her, but I was desperately trying to do the right
thing by my Luscious, so I ruthlessly pushed those invasive thoughts
out of my head and moved to her side, wrapping her up into my arms. 
She cuddled up next to me, enjoying the afterglow of her double
orgasm.  She had her head tucked under my chin, and strands of her
pale hair were tickling my nose and cheeks.  I gently ran my hands
slowly up and down her damp back, helping to wick away the sweat of
her exertions.

After a few moments she must have opened her eyes and noticed the
swollen and reddened head of my cock peeking out, because I felt
cheeks tighten against my chest as she smiled, and the next thing I
knew, she was reaching down and poking it.  She pushed the front of
my underwear down with one hand, tucking the elastic under my balls,
and poked at the dark red head of my cock, watching it bounce down
and rebound off my stomach.  She sat up just a little bit, and slid
her left hand under her pillow for just a second before scooting down
to examine me a little closer.  With her eyes just inches away from
the bobbing head of my dick, she pulled my underwear the rest of the
way off and tossed them aside.  She ran her fingertips down the
length of my rock-hard shaft, watching as my cock tensed and jumped
with my heartbeat.  She explored the sensitive ridge of my cock, let
her fingertips feel the hard tissues beneath the thin layer of skin,
and then let them frolic in the light hairs between my splayed legs
and my scrotum.  She tickled my balls, making me groan, and I put my
hand on her shoulder, trying to will her to touch me more, and maybe
even take me into her warm and wet mouth.

She finally relented, and grasped my aching cock at the base,
holding it upright so she could examine it.  I lay there watching,
unwilling to even blink, as she stuck out her tongue and lightly
touched it to the bubble of pre-cum that was leaking out of the tip. 
Even that small contact was electric, and my cock jumped at the touch
as my hips and stomach muscles involuntarily flexed.  She glanced up
at me and smiled, and then, still looking up into my eyes, let her
tongue drag up my pole, from where her tiny fist was holding me, all
the way up to the crown and across the tip.  She cleaned off the head
of my cock with her tongue, bathing it with her saliva, and then
slowly, agonizingly slowly, she opened her mouth, and hovered over my
cock, still looking directly at me.  She paused, drawing out the
suspense, and making me ache even more, until, finally, she oh so
slowly lowered her mouth around my cock.  There was still no contact,
but I could feel the warmth of her breath on my sensitive cock.  I
think I was holding my breath in anticipation, and I know my eyes
were bugging out, watching her tease me.  Finally, just when I was at
the breaking point, she relented, and closed her lips around me, her
teeth lightly grazing against my tender skin, and she sucked hard.

I thought the top of my head would blow off, the sensations were so
incredible.  I knew I wouldn't last long at all, as she bent to her
task.  She pumped with her hand at the base of my cock as she lowered
her mouth to cover more of me, and suddenly I was close.  I felt her
reach between my legs with her other hand, and the moment she
caressed my balls, I lost it.

I groaned, and gasped, and could not give her any more warning than
that.  I felt my cock expand, and then I ejaculated hard into her
waiting mouth.  I felt her tongue licking along the ridge of my head,
and she sucked in so hard her cheeks were concave.  At the same time,
one hand was pumping, establishing a rhythm that would keep me
coming, while her other hand gently kneaded my balls, alternately
squeezing and letting up.  I tensed, pumped, tensed again, four
times, then five, and six, sending jets of semen into her mouth,
across the back of her tongue and down her throat.  I felt the
pressure against my spasming cock when she reflexively swallowed my
spend, and still some of it leaked out around her lips to gather
against her pumping fist.

Finally, I collapsed back, and still she kept up her sucking and
licking, even as my well-used cock deflated a little.  The suction
she was applying, combined with her continued manipulations and
feeling her swallowing my load, kept me harder than I would have
thought possible, and she was persistent, wanting more.  My cock only
got slightly limp before her continuing attention had its desired
effect, and I started getting hard again, growing in her mouth.  My
heart rate, once starting to settle, began to pick up steam again as
I felt her hum, creating a vibration that started at the tip of my
cock and traveled by lightspeed down nerve-paths right into my brain.

I closed my eyes as this new sensation overwhelmed me, so I was
shocked when I felt her stop sucking me.  She lifted off my cock, and
her hands left me for a moment.  I opened my eyes to see what she was
doing, and saw her just as she fit a condom across the head of my
dick, and rolled it down my shaft.  She glanced up, and saw that I
was watching her.  She smiled, lifted one knee over me so she was
straddling me, and grabbed my cock once again in her small hand and
held me upright as she squatted down.  When she rubbed the head of my
cock against her pussy lips, spreading moisture around both the latex
and her swollen lips, she threw her head back and moaned.

I grabbed her by the waist, almost in a panic over this new
development.

"Kayla, wait... Are you sure about this?" I squeaked.

She straightened up and looked down at me.  "Oh, yes," she
whispered.  "I've been sure for a long time.  I just needed a good
opportunity to jump your bones."  She smiled at me, and moved lower,
until the head of my anxious cock was at the portal, nestled against
her opening.  "It's just a little gift I've been saving up for you."

She took a deep breath, her chest expanding enticingly.  "Here we
go," she breathed, and she let her weight settle just a little.  I
moved a couple of inches into her, and she paused, perhaps to
accustom herself to the new sensation of being filled up with a warm
shaft of flesh.  She lifted up just a little, and then dropped down
again, taking more of me into her.  She had her hands on my chest,
and I was still holding her waist, watching as she did it again,
lifting up and then dropping down even further, each time more of my
cock disappearing into her pussy, until, at long last, I was buried
fully inside her.  She settled down on me, a happy and clearly
excited look on her face, as she wiggled her ass against me for a
moment, creating an incredible feeling of pressure all through me.

She was tight, so wonderfully tight, my cock being squeezed all
around by her hot walls.  She was hot, and wet, and it was exactly
where I wanted to spend eternity.  I ran my hands up to her breasts
and squeezed, and she moaned and threw her head back in ecstasy,
reveling in the direct connection from her nipples to her pussy.  She
started moving up and down on me, lifting up until I was about to pop
out of her, and then sitting back down, impaling herself on my
rampant cock.  At the bottom of each stroke, she would twist just a
little, making me see stars.  When she did that, I tended to squeeze
her breasts a little harder, which made her squirm a little more on
me, round and round.  On the upstroke, her boobs were a little
further away from my grasping hands, so I would tweak her nipples
with my fingertips until she started dropping down on me again,
teasing the eraserlike buds and sending jolts of pleasure coursing
through her.

Finally, after about a couple of dozen strokes, I put my hands on
her back and pulled her down to me.  I took one of her breasts into
my mouth and sucked on her, trying to get as much of her boob into my
gasping mouth as I could.  After a few moments I released her left
breast, and moved my mouth to her right, this time gently nipping at
her distended nipple with my teeth.

She screeched nearly breathlessly, and started bumping up and down
on me, her hips raggedly moving from side to side as well as up and
down, and it was all too much.  I grabbed her ass, and pushed her
roughly down onto me as hard as I could.  I wanted to be deeper into
her than I had been able to get yet, so I clenched her globes while,
at the same time, I punched my hips upward, until our pubic bones
were grinding together, and I spewed all I had into the latex
covering my pumping cock.  Her honeyed walls clenched and relaxed,
clenched and relaxed, coaxing the last drop from me, and she
collapsed down on top of me, giving in to her own release.

We were sweat-soaked, hot and panting, our skin plastered together
wherever we touched, our pubic hair intermingled, soaked and matted
from her abundance of lubrication, her vagina keeping so much
pressure on my cock that it was still expanded, if no longer as stiff
as it had been.  I never wanted the moment to end.

But, of course, it had to, as she groaned and lifted her head to
look at me.  She smiled wearily, happily, and bent down and gave me a
soft, sensuous kiss, once again nibbling at my lower lip.  I held her
to me, and never wanted to let her go.

We stayed that way until we started to get a little chilled.  She
finally lifted off me, her eyelids drooping.  When she lifted up her
hips, my dick slipped from her pussy and wetly flopped against my
stomach.

"Oops.  'Bye, Porter," she said with a giggle as she felt me escape
from her body.  "I just lost my new best friend."

She reached down and pulled off the slick, well-used condom from my
spent cock.  The magic touch of her fingers made it twitch just a
little, but it was spent.

She trudged to the bathroom, and returned with a warm, wet
washcloth, and gently, lovingly cleaned me up.  She spent a few
minutes in the bathroom, no doubt washing herself, before returning
and lying down again with me.  We snuggled up together on the tossed
and rumpled bed, happy to be together.  She nestled her backside
against me as we lay on our sides, and I draped my arm over her and
rested my hand on her breast.  She held my hand there, and sighed
contentedly.

"Is it always like that?" she asked in a soft voice.

"No, not always," I replied.  My own eyelids were trying to close. 
"But with you, it probably always will be."

She wiggled her ass against me, giving my fried brain ideas, but
before I could act on them, I fell asleep, still holding her as
protectively as I knew how.

Sometime during the night, Kayla must have gotten cold, because when
I woke up in the morning, we had the sheet and blanket over us.  We
were still close together, and Kay was still fast asleep.  I had a
morning hard-on, and I desperately needed to go to the bathroom.  My
head felt stuffed with wet cotton, and my eyes were grainy.  The sun
was just coming up, so I got up as quietly as I could, and closed the
curtains against the early morning light.  I stumbled into the
bathroom and stood there, waiting for my erection to subside enough
so I could pee.

Mission accomplished, I slipped back into bed and snuggled up to
Luscious Kayla once again, and fell back asleep.

Maybe an hour later, I was awakened when I felt the bed move as
Kayla got back under the covers and moved over to be next to me.  I
put my arms around her, and we moved quite naturally into the same
position we had fallen asleep in originally, with her butt pressed
against me and my arm around her, my hand cradling her soft breast.

She wriggled against me just a little, perhaps getting into a more
comfortable position, and all of a sudden I wasn't sleepy anymore. 
Feeling her ass pressed against my groin created a diversion in the
flow of blood in that region, and my cock began to stretch and
stiffen.  It poked against her ass, and I hunched back and reached
down to position it more suitably, so it was tucked between her
cheeks.

"Mmmm... What's that I feel?" she whispered.

"I don't know," I replied as I began kneading her breast a little,
wanting to feel her nipple expand against my palm again.  "What do
you feel?"

She reached down between her legs, moving away from me for just a
moment, and grabbed my cock.  She pulled it between her legs, and
closed her thighs around it, so that it was pressing against her
pussy lips, and sticking out between her legs.

"Why, hello, friend," she giggled, giving the head a little rub with
her fingertips.  She moved my hand to her other breast, and wiggled
against me a little more.  Her nipples were filling, branding my
palm, as I squeezed and played with the soft mounds.  Her hips
started flexing, and my cock sawed back and forth across her pussy,
the tender skin of my rod being tickled by her sparse hair.  I could
feel her oils oozing out, coating my shaft, making its passage across
her sensitive tissues hotter and slicker.

I hunched back reflexively, and the head of my cock started plowing
through the furrows of her cunt, parting her lips in search of its
home.  Kayla bent forward just a little at the waist, and bent her
knee, and I was there.  All I had to do was move my hips forward, and
I would be buried in her.  
I moved up just a little, and the crown of my cock moved into her. 
Kayla moaned, and sighed, wanting more, but she was smarter than I
was.  By sheer force of will, she moved away from me, and turned to
face me.  She reached under her pillow, and handed me another condom.

"Hurry," she said, a hint of desperation in her voice.  She lay back
and watched with bright eyes as I tore open the foil packet and
rolled the latex down over my steely cock, and then held out her arms
to me in invitation, her knees bent and her legs parted.  I scrambled
to get on top of her, and she reached down to my cock, placed the
head against her heated opening, and then used both her hands on my
ass to bring me into her.

I slid into place, her walls adjusting to accommodate my intrusion,
and when I was fully inside her, she wrapped her legs around me,
locking her ankles together across my lower back.

"Oh, God, I love this," she whispered, almost to herself, her eyes
closed as she concentrated on the feelings being telegraphed through
her nervous system.

She opened her eyes and looked into mine, and smiled.  "I love you,"
she said softly.  "I love doing this with you."

She tightened her vaginal muscles around my cock, and watched for my
reaction.  My reaction was to nearly cream right then and there, when
I felt her squeeze my cock like that, and she saw it.

"Oh, man," I moaned.  I had to stroke into her; I had no choice in
the matter.  I started slowly, trying to hold off as long as I could
for her.  She urged me on, holding me tight and flexing in harmony
with her legs.  I paused on the upstroke, with just the head of my
cock still buried in her, and I plunged down into her as hard as I
could, trying to make sure I bumped on her clitoris as I bottomed out
in her on the downstroke.  We set up a good rhythm, and the bed began
rocking with our movements.

Just when I thought I could take no more, I bent down and grasped
one nipple in my lips and sucked on her, hard.  She yelped, favored
me with one of her breathless screeches, and came all over my buried
cock.  The heat and the pressure combined to send me off along with
her, and I pushed my hips against her hard, making her rock back a
little, and I buried myself as deeply into her as I could get as I
ejaculated hard into the condom.  Her heels were pressing on me,
keeping me in place, as I pumped and jerked, until there was no more
left to pump.  I collapsed down on her, and I felt her body relax,
her legs falling to the sides, her arms holding me limply.

After a few moments, I was afraid I might be crushing her, so I
lifted myself up to take the pressure off.  She wrapped her arms
around my neck and pulled me back down onto her, however.

"No, don't go," she whined softly.

"I'm not going anywhere," I said.  "I didn't want to squash you."

I felt her smile against my cheek.  "You're not squashing me.  I
like it."

I kissed her, our first morning kiss.  "So do I.  In fact, I love
it.  And I love you," I said.

She kissed me again, and then hugged me to her fiercely.  "Oh, Sean,
I love you so much," she whispered.

We stayed like that, until I started to feel my cock withering
enough to make the condom feel loose, so I pulled out of Kayla's
pussy.

"Oh, no," she groaned.  "Goodbye again."

I rolled over and pulled the used rubber off and dropped it to the
floor.  Kayla snuggled up to me and put her head on my chest.

"Where did you get these things?" I asked quietly.

She smiled.  "Did I surprise you?"

"Hoo boy, did you ever," I admitted.

"Jaimie and I went to a free clinic," she said.  "I got them there."
She giggled.  "I really couldn't just go buy them at my local drug
store, could I?"

Just the thought of Luscious Kayla standing at the register of her
father's drug store, a box of condoms in her hand, made me break out
in a cold sweat.

"Good God, no," I said.

She laughed again, a happy and satisfied sound that touched my
heart.  She snuggled up to me again, and we stayed like that until
the phone rang.  I reached for it and answered it on the second ring.

Alex's voice on the other end of the line said, "Sean?  You guys up
yet?"

"Yeah, sort of," I answered.

"Breakfast in a half an hour?"

"Yeah, okay, we'll meet you downstairs at the restaurant."

I hung up the phone.  "Gotta get up and get dressed," I said.

"Not without a shower," said Kayla.  She got up and headed for the
bathroom door.  She turned and looked back over at me, still lying
there.

"Well?" she asked, one eyebrow cocked.  "Are you coming?"

"I think I just did," I replied.  But I wasn't about to refuse her
invitation, so I got up and got to the bathroom, just as she was bent
over the tub, adjusting the water temperature.  It was a tempting
sight, but the floor was slippery, so I just stood there, watching
her backside, feeling the synapses firing deep within my small brain
again, sending faulty signals to my midsection.

We finally made it downstairs, about 15 minutes late.  I had washed
Kayla off, paying particular attention to her nipples and between her
legs, and even checked to make sure there was no soap residue by
using my tongue to explore her hidden recesses, and she reciprocated
by pleasuring me with her mouth, taking all I could give her.

We found Molly and Alex in a booth, coffee and orange juice already
in front of them.  As we slid into the bench across from them, I
couldn't help noticing that Molly looked very happy, and maybe a
little smug.  Alex, on the other hand, looked like he had been struck
by lightning, a dazed look on his face, and his eyes a little
unfocused.  Molly gave us a knowing look as she glanced at her watch,
but didn't say anything at first.

After the waitress took our orders, Molly finally spoke.

Picking up her orange juice, a small and secretive smile playing
across her lips, she said, "No wonder he gets such good grades in
school.  He's a very quick learner.  And, boy, can he ever
concentrate."

We all burst out laughing, and even Alex, the butt of Molly's loving
joke, had to smile self-consciously.





(Continued in Chapter 34)


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

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
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is no intent to charge money or barter for the privilege of acquiring
this material.

(Copyright 2003, Rev. Cotton Mather)

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Don't be shy!  I enjoy hearing from you.
---------------------------------------------------------------------



PLAYING TO WIN:
PLAYING THE GAME, BOOK II


by Reverend Cotton Mather




- 34 -

A VERY CRAFTY GIRL



Over the first part of that summer, Kayla and I didn't get the
chance to share her gift very often.  We still went out quite a bit,
we were hanging out together as much as we could, and we still fooled
around in the Lovemobile, but she was adamant about not wanting to
make love in the back seat of my car.  She did relent a couple of
times, succumbing to her own desires as much as mine, but for the
most part we satisfied ourselves with oral and manual stimulation and
release.  As my good but crude friend Jake would point out, it was
better than going home and making love to Five-Finger Betty.

Besides, I had nothing at all to complain about.  Luscious Kayla
loved me, and I loved her, and we both knew that what she said was
the law, and I gladly accepted that, just as Jake accepted that
Jaimie held the reins in their relationship.

Coach Bill and I had another successful spring season with the
Warriors, finishing 7-1-1.  Tournament weekend was the same weekend
as Lori's wedding, so we couldn't take the team back to defend their
championship.  Other teams besides the ones from our town, however,
had seen our success, and I got calls from a lot of parents about
working with their kids, ranging in age from 6 years old to junior
high age.  

I was concerned about my amateur status if I taught for money, and I
even called Pick and talked to him about it.  In the end, we decided
that I could do it, as long as I was paid in cash, and didn't
advertise or publicize my teaching.  As Pick pointed out, I had
already taken money to teach the game when I worked for Duane
Olchick.  Besides, the issue seemed to try to address playing for
money, not teaching for money, so I was okay.  

I recruited Eric, Jorge, Tessa, and Trent to help me out.  I had
enough kids who wanted to take lessons over the summer that I was
able to run three sets of classes, one for younger kids, ages 6-10;
another for 10-12; and another for competitive play, ages 12 and up. 
The parents paid me in cash weekly, and I split it evenly among the
five of us.  That is, all the parents paid me in cash, except for
Lori and David.  Being a poor high-school kid, I couldn't afford to
buy them much, so my wedding gift to them was a summer of lessons for
Davey and Kip.

We taught each group three times a week.  The younger kids were with
us for an hour and a half, and the other two groups played for two
hours, and sometimes it spilled over, if our scrimmages were going
well.  The parents, for the most part, didn't mind if we ran over our
time slot.  They were happy to see their kids playing and having fun,
and maybe even learning something in the process.

The division of tasks worked out well, too.  Eric and Trent worked
on offensive plays, and Tessa, Jorge and I concentrated on defending
and goaltending.  I had arranged for Davey and Kip to join me a
couple of days before our soccer camps started, so that Eric and
Trent in particular could get used to the skill levels we would be
working with, along with typical 9 or 10 year old behaviors.  Tessa
and Jorge had worked with the Warriors in the past, and were a little
more clued in as to the types of questions and interpretations that
might come from a group of younger kids, but we all benefited from
the refresher course.  Davey and Kip were excited to be singled out
as my helpers, and they carried that badge of honor into camp with
them.

Jake and Kayla had to work in their father's store that summer. 
Jake was restocking shelves and working in the back room, and Kayla
was a cashier.  It made it easier to buy condoms, since I stopped in
to say hello nearly every day, and she was usually able to take a
short break whenever I was there.  She would ring up the sale
whenever there was nobody else around, and I kept a supply handy in a
pocket of my soccer gear bag, which pretty much stayed in my car all
the time.

The Fourth of July that summer fell on Sunday, and, as usual, there
was a big carnival set up in the park by the small lake in town.  Our
schedules didn't mesh very well that weekend, though.  Kayla had
Friday off, but I had soccer camp until 4:00.  I had Saturday free,
but Kayla had to work from noon until 8:00.  We made do the best we
could.

The Lehighs invited me over for dinner on Friday.  It had been
really hot, in the 90's, and I was feeling pretty washed out from
running up and down the fields during two sessions of soccer camp,
but by the time Mr. Lehigh got the charcoal going in the grill, the
day had cooled off to something a little more reasonable.  Even so, I
was happy just to slouch in one of their loungers on the deck,
relaxing in the shade, watching as Kayla and her mother brought out
trays of condiments, drinks, and chips from the house and set them up
on the big round patio table.

Actually, I was watching Kayla, captivated by her.  She had on a
tight, sleeveless tank top that only came down to her ribcage,
leaving her delectable midriff bare, and a baggy pair of gym shorts. 
Her pale blonde hair was gathered back loosely, and there was a sheen
of perspiration on her neck that I really wanted to lick off for her.

Jake was in another lounger next to me.  He must have guessed my
thoughts, because just about then he pounded my arm.

"You're practically drooling, Porter," he growled.  "Cut it out."

"Hey, you get to live with her," I retorted.  "I only get to see her
once in a while."

Jake snorted.  "You think living with a little sister is such a
treat?"  He glanced over and saw my face, and began to laugh.  "Okay,
yeah, you would think of it as a treat, wouldn't you?"

I just cocked an eyebrow at him, feigning ignorance, an attitude I
usually came by honestly.

"Time to eat, boys," called out Mrs. Lehigh.  The hamburgers and hot
dogs were arrayed on a big platter in the center of the table.  Kayla
was finishing putting napkins at each place setting.  Jake and I got
up, and Kayla took my hand and led me over to sit on her right, on
one of the curved benches under the table.

We fixed up our plates, slathering catsup and mustard on burgers and
dogs, refilling glasses, and grabbing handfuls of chips.  When the
dust settled, we sat back and started chowing down.  I powered
through a hamburger in about three bites.  I was ferociously hungry,
and hadn't really realized it until I started eating.  Once the beast
within was somewhat mollified, I slowed down, willing to actually
take time to chew when I started in on my hot dog.

I felt Kayla's fingers touching my thigh, so I held my hot dog in my
right hand, and dropped my left hand below the table to hold hers. 
The dinner banter was light, mostly shop talk about the drug store,
that I was content to listen to, without feeling the need to
contribute.  Kay pulled my hand over to her leg, and pressed my palm
against the top of her warm thigh, holding it there.

Putting down her glass of iced tea, Mrs. Lehigh turned to Jake and
asked, "Are you and Jaimie going over to the carnival tonight, Jake?"

Around a mouthful of hamburger, Jake nodded and mumbled, "Yes, we're
meeting up with a bunch of kids in a little while."

Kayla surreptitiously moved my hand up her thigh, until I felt the
hem of her gym shorts on the backs of my fingers.  Her skin was silky
smooth and warm.

Mrs. Lehigh turned to us.  "And what are you two planning on doing
tonight?" she asked.

Kayla moved my hand even further up her leg.  I could feel the edge
of her panties now, as she slowly moved my hand up and down the
crease of her leg and her crotch.  I thought I could feel just a hint
of moisture, and I knew it was nearly too hot to touch there.  I
could feel the sweat start to break out on my face, and my shorts
were suddenly a lot tighter.  Kayla looked at me, all innocence,
waiting for me to open my mouth and croak out an answer for her mom's
question.

Before I could embarrass myself, Kayla, still looking at me, said,
"We're going over to the park, too."

I had to clear my throat before speaking, so I tried to cover it up
by taking a drink from my glass.

"We'll probably go over with Jake and Jaimie," I finally managed to
say.

Kayla pulled my hand out of the leg of her shorts, but my relief was
only momentary.  She pressed my hand firmly back between her legs,
and clenched her thighs tightly against my fingers and held me there
for just a moment.  I nearly sputtered my soda out my nose when she
did that, and I started coughing.  She let my hand loose, and turned
to me, a concerned look on her face, except where the corners of her
mouth were twitching as she tried to suppress her smile.

She patted me on the back solicitously.  "Are you okay, Sean?" she
asked.

I could only nod as I reached for my paper napkin, my eyes streaming
from my coughing fit.

"Yeah," I finally stammered.  "I'm fine."

Jake just shook his head at me, chuckling under his breath at my
predicament.  I hoped he didn't know the real cause of my discomfort.

Mrs. Lehigh brought out some homemade chocolate cake for dessert,
and Kayla stood up to help her pass out plates.

"So tell me, Sean, how are your soccer lessons going?" asked Mr.
Lehigh.

"Really well," I replied.  "We've got 15 younger kids, 18 middle
ones, and 25 in the competitive group."

"That's a lot of soccer for you to be teaching," he said.

"I've got a lot of help.  Eric Johnson, Trent Abbott, Jorge Mendoza,
and Tessa Navarrone all work with me.  I'm charging the kids ten
bucks a week, so each of us gets a hundred dollars in cash every
week, and I'm using the extra money to buy supplies, and some I'm
saving for a party for each of the groups at the end of the summer,
before their leagues start up again."

"That's good money," observed Jake.  "Maybe I should have started a
football clinic."

"You've got your own responsibilities this summer already," said his
father.  "Working at the store should be enough."

"Yeah, I suppose," grumbled Jake.  "It's just not as much fun."

"Well, it is fun to spend so much time teaching soccer, but it's
more work than I thought it would be when I started," I said.

"How so, Sean?" asked Mrs. Lehigh.

"I started out thinking I could just work with these kids like I did
with Davey and Kip," I explained.  "You know, just go out and have
fun working with the ball, teaching them how to dribble and pass and
stuff.  Then, when more kids signed up, I started realizing that I
had to have a plan for each session, based on their experience levels
and their abilities."

"And then you found out you had enough kids coming to break them
into three different groups, and the workload tripled," said Mr.
Lehigh.

I glanced at him.  I was a little surprised that he figured that out
so quickly.  In retrospect, it shouldn't have surprised me.  He was a
very intelligent and precise man who ran a successful local business,
in an industry that had quite a few national and regional players
just itching to run small, family owned pharmacies like his out of
business.

"I think it more than tripled," I admitted.  "Each section requires
their own set of drills and skill sets.  There are a few drills,
mostly concerning ball handling, that can be used for all three
player skills, but for the most part I'm spending a lot of my off-
field time working up drills and scrimmage plays for each section."

"It's too bad Duane What's-his-name isn't around this summer,"
mentioned Jake.

"I could use his expertise, that's for sure," I said with a rueful
chuckle.  "I didn't appreciate how much time he put in away from the
players, just so he and his assistants would be ready each day."

"He isn't coming back to do clinics this summer?" asked Mrs. Lehigh.

"No," I said.  "His schedule in Europe didn't give him enough time
to set up anything in America this year.  He and Nicholas, his right-
hand man, are running programs in Germany and France this summer.  He
did write and ask if I could join him for a couple of weeks, but
there was no way I could afford to do that."

"That's too bad," said Mr. Lehigh.  "That would have been an
opportunity of a lifetime."

"Maybe," I agreed, glancing quickly at Luscious.  "But I would have
had to have been gone for almost three weeks, right in the middle of
everything, and it would have been tough leaving home for that long,
and everything..."

"And leaving your girlfriend behind?" finished Mrs. Lehigh, a small,
knowing grin on her face.

"Well, yeah.  That, too," I agreed, a little embarrassed.

"He would have spent every penny he would have earned over there,
calling me every night," said Kayla.

"Sweetie, would you really have expected him to call you all the way
from France?" asked Mrs. Lehigh, a little incredulous.

"Of course not," said Kayla.  "But he would have, anyway."

I could only nod in agreement.  My Luscious knew me very well, indeed.

"By the way, Mr. Lehigh, I want to thank you again for donating that
first-aid kit to my program."

"Oh, it's no problem, Sean.  I was happy to do it," he replied.

"With the extra money I've been getting each week, I could just as
easily pay for it," I said.  I was still a little uncomfortable about
taking free stuff from anybody, even if it was to help the kids.`

"I know you could, Sean.  And I appreciate the offer to pay for it,
but it's really not necessary.  The drug store sponsors a lot of
teams in a lot of different sports here in town, and my suppliers
know how important it is to me and to the community.  In this case, I
happened to mention to my salesman that you were running these
clinics for the kids here, and he asked if you needed anything."  He
took a sip of his iced tea, and then smiled.  "So you see, I couldn't
take your money for it anyway, since it was really a gift from my
salesman."

"Who wouldn't have known about Sean's clinics, if you hadn't told
him," interjected Jake.

Mr. Lehigh smiled again.  "True," he said.  He looked at his son
affectionately.  "I might have been the catalyst for the exchange of
this first aid kit, but the fact remains that I didn't buy it, so I
wouldn't feel right about letting Sean pay for it, either."

"Not that you would have charged him for it, anyway, dear," said
Mrs. Lehigh, patting her husband's hand.

He just shrugged and sat back.  "True again," he admitted.  "But
this way, Sean doesn't have to feel like he's skipping out on an
obligation to pay for it.  Okay, son?"

"Okay," I agreed.  It was easier than arguing with him, anyway.

After we helped clean up after dinner, Jake walked over to get
Jaimie, and Kayla and I piled into the back seat of Jake's car to
wait for them.  Even with the windows down, and the sun sinking lower
in the sky, it was steamy in the back seat, almost too warm to sit
next to each other with my arm around her.  Almost.

We drove over to the park and walked around the carnival, catching
up with groups of friends in line for rides or playing around at the
carnie games.  I was proud to be strolling around the park holding
Luscious Kayla's hand, being seen by everybody in school with the
most beautiful girl in town.

We stopped to watch Sam Loggins and Jen Davies shooting baskets for
prizes.  Sam, having grown to about Tiny's height but skinny as a
fencepost, was talented enough that he was able to figure out that
the basket wasn't set at the normal 10 foot height, and was able to
adjust his shot to make 8 out of 10 anyway.  Whispered suggestions to
his girlfriend, also a basketball player, were enough to allow her to
make 6 out of 10, still far above the typical for that booth.  They
both walked away with huge stuffed pandas, along with a warning not
to come back again from the booth operator.

We joined Eric, Keisha, Ayesha and Anthony as they tried their luck
shooting b-b guns at targets.  Kayla hit only one bulls-eye on her
first try, but I managed to knock down quite a few targets, and won a
poster.  Even Kayla had to laugh when I chose that Farrah Fawcett
poster as my prize.

On one of our circuits through the maze of walkways around the
carnival rides, we saw my brother Stephen, along with his friends
Carlos and Tommy and Richie, standing in line for the Gravity Drop. 
Along with them were Tara Jacks, and one other girl I didn't know. 
Jaimie stopped short, pulling Jake's arm as he took another step
forward before realizing that his girlfriend had halted.  She was
staring over at the kids in line, who couldn't seem to keep still as
they waited, dancing and hopping in place, shifting from person to
person, always in motion within their spots in line.

"Shit," exclaimed Jaimie.  "She's not supposed to be here."

"Who?" asked Jake.  Jaimie pulled him around so that more people
were between us and the kids in line.  She didn't want Tara to see
her, apparently, so we moved back with her, so that we were pretty
much blended into the crowd.

"Tara's over there, with Sean's brother and his friends," explained
Jaimie.  Jake stood on tiptoe so he could see over the crowd.

"Oh, yeah, I see her," he said.  "I thought she was permanently
grounded?"

"She is," confirmed Jaimie.

She sure didn't look grounded to me.  She was wearing a bikini top
that was about two sizes too small for her, and short-short cutoff
jeans that had been washed until the edges were fringed and the seat
was nearly transparent.  The legs of the shorts were nonexistent. 
Her ass cheeks were plainly visible, so much so that I had to doubt
that she was wearing any underwear at all.  She was looking and
acting as slutty as she could, and she had all the boys drooling over
her.

The little girl that was with the group was dressed similarly,
except that her top was just slightly more modest, a clingy tube top
that molded to her small breasts.  The way they jiggled as she moved
only served to confirm that she, too, was going without underwear.

"Who's her friend?" I asked.

"Why do you want to know?" asked Kayla, a frown on her pretty face.

"I just want to know who to stay far away from when school starts,"
I said, putting my arm around her.

She resisted for just a moment, and then allowed me to pull her to
me.  "Well, in that case..." she said with a smile.

"That's Tracy Evanson," said Jaimie.

I looked over at her, startled.  "Mikey Evanson's sister?" I asked.

"Yes," she confirmed.  "Tara's not supposed to be here, and
especially with Tracy."

"Are you going to say anything to your parents?" asked Jake, looking
concerned.

"I think I have to," said Jaimie unhappily.

We headed back toward the parking lot.  Jaimie wasn't in the mood to
walk around any more, so we decided to head over to the Dairy Queen
to see if anybody was there.  We met up with Tiny and Erica, sitting
at one of the picnic tables there, and spent the next hour in an ice-
cream haze, before calling it a night.





On Saturday, Kayla had to work late.  I got to the drug store at
about 7:45 and waited for her, wandering up and down the aisles while
she finished up with her duties and punched out.  Finally, at a few
minutes after 8:00, she came skipping out of the back room.  She ran
up and jumped up into my arms and gave me a big, sloppy kiss on the
cheek.

"Come on, boyfriend, take me away from here," she giggled.  She
hopped down and practically dragged me out the door.

When we got in my car, she leaned over and wrapped her arms around
my neck and gave me a very hot, very wet open-mouthed kiss that
almost immediately burned out my coherent thought processes.

"I've got an idea," she whispered throatily.  "There's a sixties
band playing in the park tonight, so my parents are meeting some of
their friends in the beer tent.  Jake and Jaimie are already over at
the park."  She stared into my eyes, waiting for me to make the
connection.

It didn't take me long at all.  I gave her a quick kiss, started the
car, and peeled rubber on my way out of the parking lot. 
Destination: Lehigh House.  We would have the place to ourselves for
at least a couple of hours.

I pulled into the driveway, and Kayla was out of the car before I
could turn off the engine and open my door.  We went around to the
back of the house and went in through the kitchen, not bothering to
turn on any lights.  Kay led me to the basement stairs, and we went
down to the rec room.  There was a little light spilling in through
the windows from the dying sun, enough to give the place a dim, amber
glow, as Kayla took my hand and pulled me over to the couch in front
of the television.

She sat down against the armrest and pulled me over on top of her. 
She let go of my hand and wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled
me down to kiss me, nibbling at my lips as I lay half on her, trying
not to crush her with my weight.  She loved worrying and playing with
the tiny scar on my lip, and I loved the way she concentrated on that
spot.  It was becoming one of the places on me that was very
sensitive to her touch, an erogenous zone she had created.

I managed to pull my legs up so that I was lying on the couch
alongside her, and she naturally scooted down and swung her legs up
so that she was lying next to me.  I slithered my right arm around
her head, giving her a cushion against my arm, and I bent to her,
showering her mouth with small kisses in return.

Kayla's pale hair was tied back in a ponytail, and I reached up and
pulled the elastic out, letting her hair cascade down around her head
and across her shoulders.  I grabbed a handful of her luxurious, soft
hair, letting strands of her tresses drag through my fingers.  Her
eyes were closed as she concentrated on her kissing, so I closed my
eyes, too, and gave in to the feelings she was inciting.

Our kisses got softer and slower, if no less urgent, as we both
teased and advanced on each other until, finally, our lips locked
together.  As our tongues met, she moaned softly into my mouth,
sending a flare of excitement through me.  She was wearing a demure
white blouse, buttoned all the way up to her throat, and the fingers
of my left hand started at the top, fumbling with buttons until they
could twist them through the buttonholes.  I wanted to feel her
breasts, even through her clothes, but I forced myself to go slowly,
moving from button to button, as gently as I could.  She shifted
slightly once I got about halfway done, making it easier for me to
reach the rest of them, until, at last, I undid the last button of
her shirt that I could reach.  I pulled the tails of her blouse out
of her skirt, and found two more buttons, which I went to work on,
until I could open her blouse up and work it off her shoulder.

She broke our kiss long enough to shrug out of the blouse, and then
pulled me back to her, resuming the teasing and the playing of our
tongues together.  I ran my hand up her side, still resisting the
siren call of her wonderful breasts.  When my palm encountered the
cotton and elastic of her bra, she turned slightly in my arms, giving
me access to her back, so I could work on the hooks and eyes.  Still
I resisted, however, and contented myself with feeling the play of
her strong back muscles, lying just underneath the soft epidermal
layer of skin.  I ran my fingernails down her back, along her spine,
and she shivered just a little.

Again we had to break off from our kisses, each of us panting.  My
fingertips encountered the thick material of her skirt, and I allowed
my hand to delve down to clutch at her ass for just a moment before
returning to the bare skin of her lower back.  In the meantime, Kayla
started in on licking and sucking on my neck and my earlobe, pausing
occasionally to blow lightly in my ear.  She let go of my neck and
dropped her hands down to pull at my tee shirt, pulling it up to
bunch under my arms.  I sat up for a moment, and she lifted up the
bottom, pulling the shirt over my head and dropping it to the floor. 
Her hands went to my chest, and she started playing with my nipples
for just a moment before wrapping me up in her arms once again.

She started in on kissing and licking my throat, moving from one
side of my head to the other.  She slowly moved up, eventually giving
my other ear the same treatment she awarded to the first, and all the
time she was doing that, I was trailing my fingertips up and down her
back, from shoulder blade to her hip, reveling in the heated, silky
feel of her skin.

She kissed my lips again, then raised her head up so that I could
pay homage to her tender throat.  Her hands started echoing what my
left hand was doing, caressing my back as I was caressing hers.  My
hand would travel up along her spine, hers would move along my spine.
My hand would run down her side to her hip, hers would mimic my
actions.  She tapped her fingers against my hip, so I did the same
along hers.  She moved her hand halfway up my back, fingertips
playing along the skin, and I did the same.  Her hand dropped back
down, and so did mine.  She reached further down and clutched at my
ass, so I did the same to her, all the time licking and sucking at
her throat and her chest.

I had my head tucked down, and I started licking at the swells of
her breasts, along the hem of her bra.  She arched her back,
encouraging me to explore further, so I started chewing on her
breasts and nipples through her bra.  Her hands scratched up my back,
anticipating that my hand would mimic her action, and I let my hand
linger on its way up her spine, until it stopped in the middle of her
back, just like hers had stopped.  I felt her fingers flex, willing
my fingers to work to loosen her bra, but instead I clutched at the
fabric, crushing it in my fist.  I heard her whine softly in
frustration, so I bit down a little harder on the pebble of flesh
poking up against her bra and my lips.  She rewarded me by moaning
and running her knee up my thigh, nearly touching my balls, and then
letting it slide back down.

As much as I enjoyed teasing her, I couldn't hold out any longer.  I
fumbled with her bra strap, and finally was able to separate the two
ends.  My hand found its way underneath the loosened material, around
her side and over the swells of her soft breast, and I grasped the
mound in my palm.  She groaned as I squeezed her flesh, her distended
nipple burning a brand in my palm.  I moved my hand to her other
breast, and she shimmied away from me so she could sit up enough to
pull the straps off her shoulders and drop her bra to the floor.  She
settled back down again, and put her hands on the back of my head,
guiding my lips to her breast.  I opened my mouth gladly, and
accepted her offer.

Of all the acts of love and passion, there are two things that I
love above all others.  The first was just this: that first taste of
the slightly salty skin of my love's proffered nipple.  I held
Kayla's soft breast in the palm of my hand, hefting its small weight,
as I lowered my lips to the swollen nub at its peak, and drew the bud
into my mouth and suckled.  I opened wider, and sucked in as much of
her breast as I could, my tongue working around the areola, teasing
and playing with the sensitive tissues.  She arched up, pushing
harder against my mouth, and I was in heaven.

I paid homage to her right breast, and then gave equal treatment to
her left, unwilling to favor one over the other.  She showed her
appreciation by pressing me to her, holding the back of my head with
one hand and rubbing my shoulder and neck with her other.  I tasted
the skin between her small breasts, and licked the undersides of both
mounds, holding one tenderly while I lovingly nibbled on the other.

I left my hand on her right breast and pulled my arm out from around
her neck as my mouth descended, kissing and licking down her sternum
to her quivering tummy, until I got to the elastic hem of her skirt. 
I sat up and scooted down, and grabbed her skirt and started pulling.
She helped by lifting up her butt off the couch, and watched me with
bright eyes as I pulled the skirt down her legs and off her feet,
dropping it to the floor to join our other clothes.  She was wearing
yellow cotton panties with a flower print, and when she put her legs
back down on either side of me, I could see that the cotton panel had
a big wet spot from her leaking juices.  I inhaled deeply, loading up
on her pheromones, and my mouth began to water a little in
anticipation of tasting her.  I bent down and teased her a little by
licking around her belly button, and she squirmed just a little.  My
hard dick pulsed with the sight of her writhing beneath me.

I took hold of the waistband of her panties and pulled them down. 
She lifted up again, her arms clutched to her and her hands clenched
into fists tucked underneath her chin, and I worked them down her
legs and off.  This time, when she opened her legs to surround me on
the couch, her pussy lips gapped open just a little, rosy and
slightly swollen.  I bent down and once again noodled with her navel,
working my way very slowly down her tummy to the top of her pale
pubic hair.

I pressed against her thighs with my hands, encouraging her to
spread her legs just a little more, and I kissed and licked a path
through her thin hair until I encountered the moist top of her slit. 
I took one finger and enjoyed the second thing that I loved most: I
dragged my finger through her pussy lips, releasing the well of
lubrication that was trapped, feeling it coat my fingertip with her
hot oils as I dipped just the tip of my finger into her hole, teasing
her for just a moment before continuing up to search for her swelling
clit.

At the same time, I used my tongue to lick and taste of her along
her outer lips, spreading moisture around and lapping up her tangy
overflow.  I teased her, kissing and licking the soft skin of her
inner thighs, and felt the responsive quiver in her muscles as I
moved down her leg just a little, my lips playing a tune on the
smooth musculature of her legs, and then worked my way back up toward
her center.

As I reached her flooded pussy again with my tongue, I slowly pushed
my middle finger into her.  She moaned and raised her hips, trying to
get my finger deeper, and I licked up through her vulva, separating
her lips with my tongue as it dove in, lapping up her juices,
searching for her swollen nub.  I licked around her clit as I started
finger-fucking her, and timed my assault so that I grabbed her little
distended clit between my lips at the same time that I used two
fingers on her, plunging into her as far as they would reach.

Kay huffed and hunched on my fingers and mouth, her breathy
exhalations coming faster and faster as I worked her.  My fingers
were working in and out of her, and I twisted my hand occasionally,
feeling her pressing walls give and flex, and I licked up and down
her slit, from where my hand was pumping her, to the top of her lips,
flicking against her clit.

Finally, her whole body clenched, and she grabbed my head and held
me to her as she flew off into space.  I reached up with my one free
hand and clutched her breast, and she instinctively let go of my head
with one hand and ran it up my arm to hold my hand tightly to her
heaving breast as she gasped through her orgasm.  Her legs flexed
against my head and shoulders in her passion, and her pussy exuded a
slight, very hot release of oily wetness against my intruding tongue,
a little different in taste from her normal lubrication.  My hard
cock twitched in anticipation, wanting to feel that heat and moisture
for itself.

At long last, she collapsed back down onto the couch, her tightened
muscles relaxing after helping her crest the mountain.  She let go of
my hand at her breast and took hold of my head, gently bringing me up
and off her tender pussy.  I let her pull me up to her, and she
hugged me tight, wrapping her arms and her legs around me.

"Oh, that was so good," she whispered softly as she held me.

I put my arms around her and was content to lie there with her as
she came down from her orgasm.  I could feel her body's tension drain
from her, first from her extremities, and then moving into her body,
until, finally, her heart rate began to normalize, and her breathing
steadied.  I felt her smile against my cheek.

"Wow," she whispered, this time more aware that she was
communicating with me.

"Wow, indeed," I agreed.  "I think she liked it."

"Yes, she did," she answered.  She took a deep, satisfying breath,
and squirmed loose from me.  She pushed me back against the couch and
moved down to kneel by my legs on the couch.

"I'll bet I know what he'll like," she said with a smile, a naughty
gleam in her eye.

She started pulling down my old gym shorts.  She lifted up the
elastic from my waist so that she could get them down around my
throbbing cock, and I lifted up my ass so that she could shuck both
the shorts and my underwear off.  I settled back against the couch,
my head resting on the armrest so I could watch her.  She held up my
clothes and ceremoniously dropped them to the floor.  She giggled
when she saw my cock twitch in anticipation, and she bent down so
that she was eye-level to it, and so close I could feel her breath
tickling the hair on my legs.

She ran just her fingernail up my cock along the underside, and I
tensed up, already close to shooting.  She must have known I was
close, because she wrapped her small hand around the base of my hard
cock and squeezed a little, and my impending crisis abated.  She
continued to hold me tightly like that, squeezing out droplets of pre-
cum, and she used the tip of her tongue to taste it and spread it
around the head.

It was a good thing she was squeezing me tight, or at the first
touch of her tongue, I would have gone off.  As it was, all the
muscles around my midsection, from my stomach to my thighs, were
tensed in anticipation, and my dick was pulsing with my heartbeat.

She kissed the tip of my cock, and then, looking me straight in the
eye, she smiled, pressed the tip against her lips, and pushed down,
letting her lips slide open as my cock intruded.  She stopped when
she had the crown engulfed, and she sucked on me, her tongue working
around the head, her hand still squeezing me.  She pulled me out of
her sucking lips with a pop, licked her lips, and then took me back
into her mouth, this time dropping down and taking as much of me into
her mouth as she could.  I felt the head resting against the back of
her tongue, and I knew I was at the entrance to her throat.  She let
her tongue bathe my shaft, and she started working her head up and
down, her fist now pumping just a little in unison.

The pressure was enormous.  She was alternately sucking hard and
letting up, and the combination was moving me fast toward a crisis. 
With her head bobbing on me, and her fist pumping at the base, I knew
it wouldn't be long.  When she took her other hand and ran one
fingertip up my scrotum, I was pushed a little closer to the edge. 
When she cupped my balls and squeezed gently, that was it.

"Kayla... I'm... Ahhh... K-K-K-Kay..." I tried to warn her.  She
glanced up at my face, and attacked even harder, sucking on my cock
until her cheeks caved in, her tongue working relentlessly against my
skin, and her fist engaged in activating the pump.  I closed my eyes
and gave myself over to it.

I blasted into her mouth.  She squeaked and almost let go of me at
the force of my first spurt, but she gamely hung on, and continued
milking me.  I felt my center contract and let loose, contract and
let loose, five times, then six, and finally, nearly spent, the flow
eased to a dribble.  Still my Luscious kept her mouth sealed around
me as best she could, swallowing and sucking and pumping and
squeezing, getting the last little drops she could out of me. 
Dribbles of milky semen leaked out of the corners of her mouth and
dripped down my shaft, and she used her loosened fist to work the hot
liquid into the skin of my cock.  As I collapsed back onto the couch,
my well-treated cock began to lose a little of its hardness, and
still she kept on, teasing it with her lips and tongue, unwilling to
let it deflate completely.

I put my hands on her shoulders and pulled her gently up to me, and
she reluctantly let me pop out of her loving mouth and crawled up to
be wrapped up in my arms.

"Unghhh," I finally managed to grunt.

I felt her smile again.  "Was that a compliment?" she asked.

"Unghhh."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'", she giggled.

"Unghhh," I agreed.

She reached down and tickled the hair on my balls, idly playing.

"It's a wonder you can do anything with these things dangling down
between your legs.  Don't they get in the way a lot?"

"Only sometimes," I managed to reply.  Her play was having an effect
on me.  I didn't know if it was intentional on her part or not, but I
was enjoying it.  "But I'd miss them if they weren't there."

She giggled.  "So would I," she said.  She let her fingers trickle
up my scrotum to my recovering cock, once again proudly standing up
off my stomach.  It had only deflated a little before reacting to
what she had been doing with her luscious mouth and her fingers.  

"Oh, my," she said.  "Somebody's still got a problem."  She grasped
my stalk and moved her hand up and down on me.  "What can we do about
this?"

I reached down and searched for my shorts.  I had a couple of
condoms in my wallet.  My emergency stash.  Before I could find them,
however, she shook her head, the top of her head swiveling against my
chin.

"Wait," she whispered.  She threw her leg over me and sat up, still
holding my cock in her small hand.  She knelt over me and held me
straight up, pointed at her drooling pussy.

"Kay?"  I was a little panicky about fucking her unprotected.  Ever
since the Molly Experience, I was pretty paranoid about anybody's
unprotected sex, and especially mine.

My nervousness didn't faze her, though.  She rubbed the head of my
hard cock against her pussy lips, distributing oily lubrication and
starting both our engines, and then firmly pressed herself down,
until the tip of my head was nestled against her, embedded in her
hole.  I watched as she slowly impaled herself on me, swiveling her
hips just a little as she dropped, almost literally screwing herself
down onto me.  She rose up, and dropped down a little more, so that I
was a little deeper inside her, and then rose up again, taking her
time as she worked on taking me all the way into her.  I felt her ass
settle on the tops of my thighs as she took my full length inside
her, and she sighed, her fingers idly playing at our joining.

"Oh, God, that's so much nicer," she sighed, her eyes hooded in
pleasure.

I agreed, but I was also so jumpy about this that I was in danger of
losing my erection.  Kayla leaned down toward me, guiding her breast
to my mouth.  As I instinctively took her nipple in my lips, she
whispered, "Surprise, Sean my love.  I went on the pill."

She did surprise me.  Her nipple popped out of my mouth and I
goggled at her.  She grinned at the expression on my face, and
wiggled her hips a little to get my attention back where she wanted
it.

"Would you please make love to me now?" she asked.

I reached up my hands and hugged her to me.  She was an amazing
girl, and I was even more in love with her now than I had been
before, something I didn't think was even possible.  I flexed my cock
inside her, and felt her inhale in surprise, her eyes widening as she
looked down at me, before tightening the walls of her vagina against
me in response.

She pulled me over, working to not lose our connection, and I helped
by easing over, until I was on top and she was below me, gazing into
my eyes as she wrapped her legs around me, locking her ankles at the
small of my back.

I started pumping into her.  She relaxed her legs on me enough so
that I could pull back.  When she felt me at the exit, with just the
head of my cock still within her, she flexed her legs, pulling me
back into her.  We set up a natural rhythm this way, complimenting
each other in a natural fit.  As I bottomed out in her, she would
wiggle her ass a little, giving herself a little extra rub of my
pubic bone against her sensitive clit, and she quickly climbed the
heights.  After several minutes of pumping, our breathing got more
and more ragged, the synapses started firing out of synchronization,
and our movements got a little more erratic.  I could feel the
tightening in my balls, and I knew I couldn't last much longer.  I
started shafting into her hard, moving fast in and out and pounding
her.  Her head was bumping up against the armrest, and when I picked
up my head and watched her as she got closer to her orgasm, I watched
her boobs jiggle as I rocked her.

Suddenly, her legs and arms spasmed and tightened, pulling me hard
to her, and she started huffing against me, hunching her ass up as if
she needed to get me in deeper to her.  The skin of her face, throat
and chest flushed a rosy pink as her orgasm washed through her like a
tidal wave.  It was enough to trigger my own explosion, and I shoved
down as hard as I could, wanting to be as far into her as she wanted
me to be.  I felt my cock expand, and her walls contracted at the
same time.  I might have screamed as I spurted my first jet into her.
I pulled out and shafted back into her as I felt the pump contract
and let loose again, and my cock was rewarded with her gift of heat
and moisture as she came.  Our combined fluids lubricated her tunnel
even more, and I sprayed her womb with my seed three, four, five
times more, until there was nothing left to give her.  Kayla was
hanging on tight, riding out her own climax, eyes shut tight as she
gave in to the rush washing over her.

Finally, her grip loosened, her feet untangling themselves so she
could drop her legs back down to the couch, her knees still bent.  I
lay on her, exhausted to the bone, distractedly feeling my cock
slowly losing its hardness and shrinking a little, her vaginal walls
contracting to accommodate the lessening intrusion.

"Oh, God," she moaned softly.  "That was incredible."

"You are incredible," I whispered tiredly.  I lifted my head up off
her shoulder.  "When did you decide to go on the pill?"

She smiled in satisfaction.  "Surprised you, didn't I?"

I grinned.  "You always do," I said.

She chuckled.  "Good," she said.

"So?" I persisted.  I started to lift off her, afraid I was starting
to weigh down on her uncomfortably.  I pulled my hips up to slip out
of her, but she grabbed my ass and pulled me back down, and my
softening cock slid back into her slippery passage.

"Don't go," she pleaded.  "I like feeling you inside me."

I let her pull me back.  I liked it, too.

"When did I decide to go on the pill?  Probably two years ago."

That surprised me.  "Two years ago?" I asked incredulously.

"Remember that time we were down here during the scavenger hunt?"

Remember?  Of course I remembered.  It was one of my most cherished
memories.  "Sure," I replied.

"I probably decided about then.  I didn't get the chance to get to
the clinic until a couple of months ago, though."

"A couple of months ago?  How did you get there?"

She laughed softly.  "Jaimie wanted to go on the pill, so she made
Jake take her.  She wanted me to come along for 'moral support',
which he was not happy about.  But he couldn't say no, not to her. 
Jake had no idea Jaimie and I had planned this all out, so that I
could go with her and get my own pills."  She hugged me tighter, and
wiggled her hips.  Our connection was slipping away as my cock shrank
and started sliding out of her, and our combined juices were leaking
out, coating my balls and soaking into the cushion.  I thought
distractedly about how we had to clean off the cushions the last time
we were down here, that summer evening almost two years ago.

"You are a very crafty girl," I said in admiration.

She nodded.  "Once I make my mind up, I don't give up easily," she
said with a grin.

"I noticed."

"Yeah.  You were supposed to notice."  She smiled again, happy and
content.  I hugged her to me.

"I know I was," I whispered.  "I'm just glad I wasn't too stupid to
recognize it."

We stayed like that for a time, happy in each other's arms.





(Continued in Chapter 35)


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

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(Copyright 2003, Rev. Cotton Mather)

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PLAYING TO WIN:
PLAYING THE GAME, BOOK II


by Reverend Cotton Mather




- 35 -

LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW



By early August, I was dead tired, and even looking forward to
school starting up again.  The workload had to be less than what I
was struggling with during those hot weeks in July and August.  

The kids were learning too fast.  Even with the help I had, and the
amount of time we were spending with each group, it was hard for me
to stay ahead of them.  I was spending about 20 hours on the field
with the kids and the coaches, running drills and supervising
scrimmages and games, and coordinating my top-notch helpers.  I don't
know what I would have done if I didn't have my four friends helping
me out.  They were able to fill in the gaps I inevitably left in my
plans, covering for me over and over again.

In between the hours spent on the field, I put in another 10 or 15
hours a week trying to stay one step ahead of each group, planning
out drills, strategies, games, and scrimmages.  Whether we were
playing 3 on 3, 4 on 4, or full scrimmages, I felt I needed to have
an idea of the makeup of the teams beforehand.  It was too easy to
let the kids decide who they wanted as their teammates if we left
that decision until it was time to play, but sometimes that created
imbalance among the teams.

I spent another 10 to 15 hours each week writing down my
impressions.  Each day, after camp, I would write down my impressions
of how that particular session went.  I wanted to be able to refer to
my notes and see where I could improve things, if I should do this
again the next year.  I also wrote down remarks about many of the
players in camp, noting improvements in their play or in their skill
levels, places that might need more work, and sometimes even
predictions about how far they would go in their soccer endeavors.  I
even wrote down some of the funny stuff that happened, as a reminder.
I made sure every kid enrolled got mentioned at least once a week in
these journals.  I was thinking that I might be able to distill the
information I wrote down and make up a presentation for each player
at the closing party for the kids and their parents.

The young kids took the least amount of time, because their skill
levels were still pretty primitive, even after a few weeks in camp. 
The middle group was tougher, because their coordination and
reasoning skills were more defined, so they progressed rapidly.  From
my work with Davey and Kip, along with my own experiences playing at
that level, it was pretty easy to come up with plans for this group.

The real challenge was keeping up with the competitive group.  By
the end of July, the number of kids taking lessons in this group
ballooned from 25 to more than 40.  Most of them were junior-high
kids who were seeing this as a stepping-stone to playing on the high
school teams, and they were all fiercely competitive, and a few could
even be called driven.  I knew one thing.  They were driving me nuts.
After all, I was the one who had to do all I could to stay ahead of
them, and they were fast.  Capital F Fast.  I even had a couple of
kids who had played on the J-V team as freshmen, who were hoping that
working with us would be the way they could get noticed enough to
make the Varsity team during late summer tryouts.  I repeatedly told
them that none of us had any influence over Coach Neville's
decisions, but they didn't really believe me.  Truth be told, I was
probably lying.  If Eric, Trent, Jorge and I all came up to Coach
with the same name of a player unfamiliar to him, he would most
likely take a chance on the player.  I just wasn't ready to put
myself on that kind of firing line quite yet, though.

School was scheduled to start on Tuesday, August 31, and I really
wanted a week off so I could just sleep in and not worry about
anything, so I scheduled our last day of camp to be Friday, the 20th.
We scheduled Saturday as the party day, and arranged to have access
to the park and the main soccer field all day.  We scheduled the
middle group's party for the morning, the youngsters for about noon,
and the older kids for around 4:00.  I devised some fun and easy
drills, mostly based on a weaving passing drill, to showcase the kids
for their parents.  Watching them weave around each other down the
field, in teams of three, was pretty impressive for the parents, who
typically only saw their kids during games.

I also set up a 30-minute full-field game for the first two groups
before handing out awards.  Parents love that kind of thing, I had
discovered, and every kid got to play.  The younger group played 7-on-
7, since one kid was on vacation and couldn't make the party, and the
middle group played a 9-on-9 game, with Tessa and Jorge working the
goals.  Every kid played the whole game, and the parents were
thrilled when the game ended up tied, 1-1.  Tessa assured the tie
when she deliberately slowed her steps in defending against a
crossing pass, and Davey Wilkinson put the ball past her into the
back of the net.

After the game, I handed out certificates to every player.  I had
recruited Molly to hand-letter the names on them, since she had the
best handwriting of anyone I knew, and I used my journal notes to
talk about how each player had improved over the course of the
summer.  The parents all applauded every kid, and there were a lot of
very happy players, proudly showing off their certificates.  It made
it all worth the hard work.  I even got about a hundred dollars in
extra tips from parents, by way of thanks.


For the competitive group, I knew that a weaving pattern wasn't
going to do it, so during the last week of sessions, we worked on
showy passes and schemes.  Heel give-and-go passes, special signals
for throw-ins, and taking high passes off their heads and then
running upfield without letting the ball touch the ground, keeping
the ball in the air with chest, shoulder, head and knee touches, were
going to be the showcase for these players.  After the
demonstrations, we set up two half-fields.  Between the instructors
and the kids, we had enough players for four full teams, with no
subs, so we played two games simultaneously, across the width of the
field, so that everybody could play, and all the parents could watch
both games at the same time.  It was a little chaotic, but it worked
out okay, mostly because the kids all understood it was all just for
fun.  They had gotten enough competition over the past few weeks, so
they were able to put aside those drives for one afternoon.

After the game, I handed out certificates to the players, and once
again used my journal to explain how each player's game had improved.
These older players didn't hold the certificates with the same amount
of pride as the younger ones, but that was okay, because they held
their new skills proudly, instead.

What made me the happiest, though, was the courtesy nearly every kid
displayed to me and the other coaches.  After the ceremony, the
parents and kids were gathering up their belongings, and the five of
us were underneath the awning I had rented to provide some shade for
us for the day, finally relaxing after several weeks of work.  I
glanced up and saw Mariko Lee, one of our junior-high students from
the competitive group, walking toward us.

"Sean?"

"Hi, Mariko.  What's up?"

She looked around shyly at all of us.  The five of us were standing
or sitting in a loose semi-circle, and she looked like she was
feeling a little bit more on the spot than she liked, as the others
looked on curiously.

"I... I just wanted to thank you all for what you've done for me,"
she said.  "I really enjoyed this camp."

While I knew that nearly all the kids had a good time, and they had
gotten better at their games, I was still a little surprised that a
kid this age, normally very shy and self-conscious around high-school
kids, would be bold enough to walk up to us alone to thank us.

Mariko tentatively held out her hand, and I shook it gently.  She
stepped over and shook Jorge's hand, and then stepped up to Eric,
standing leaning against one of the support poles, a cold can of Coke
in his hand, and held out her hand.

"Ah, hell, ain't no handshake gonna do it," he said with a smile. 
He stepped up, towering over the little 11-year-old, and wrapped his
arms around her and hugged her.  She was taken completely by
surprise, but only for a moment.  She put her arms around him and
gave him a squeeze, a huge and happy smile on her face.

Tessa was next, and she hugged her, too, and so did Trent, and so
the precedent was set.  She moved back over and hugged Jorge, and
then gave me a hug, too, before running off and rejoining her family.
By the time she ran back across the grass, other kids were gathered
around, jostling for position as they all started shouting out thanks
and farewells.  Lots of parents came up to join in the melee, and
before we were finished, we had been hugged, thanked profusely, had
our hands thoroughly shaken, and I had had another two hundred
dollars pressed into my hand as tips.

After we had picked up the cones and flags, taken down the awning
and packed it away, and gathered up our balls and jerseys and gear
and packed it into our cars, I gave each of my friends their cut out
of all the tip money I had received.  Sixty dollars each made us all
feel wealthy, let me tell you.

As we stood by our cars, almost unwilling to drive away from each
other, I thanked each of them in turn for all their help.

"Hey, we had fun, didn't we?" said Trent.

"Oh, yeah, but I'm gonna sleep for a week," said Jorge.  "These kids
wore me out."

"Ah, you're just a slacker," said Tessa, smiling at Jorge
affectionately.  They had really gotten to be good friends over the
past few weeks, only partly because of the position they played.  "We
could have gone another week."

"Maybe you could have gone another week," noted Eric.  "Us guys,
we've got tryouts and practice coming up next week for school, so we
aren't gonna get a whole lot of rest."

"Oh, man, I forgot about that," moaned Jorge.  "There goes my plan
to sleep for an entire week."

Shit.  So had I.  The one I really felt sorry for, though, was Trent.

"Hey, buddy, when do you leave?" I asked.

He looked both excited and a little sad.  "Tomorrow afternoon," he
replied.  "I've already got most of my stuff packed up.  We're
hauling a little U-Haul trailer down with us."

"Hey, Trent, I forget.  Where are you going again?" asked Tessa.

"University of South Carolina."

"How long to get there?" she asked.

"A couple of days, I guess.  We're leaving about noon tomorrow, and
we're thinking we'll get there sometime Monday afternoon.  I'm
supposed to move into my dorm room sometime between 4:00 and 6:00 on
Monday, and we've got team meetings and tryouts beginning Tuesday
morning."

"Is your whole family going?"

"Yeah, me and my parents and my sister."

"What about Danielle?" asked Eric.

Trent smiled.  "She's moving into her dorm next Saturday," he said.

"That's so great, that you guys were able to go to the same school,
even so far away," said Tessa.

"It took a lot of convincing, but it all worked out," said Trent. 
"But, hey, I've got to get going.  I've got to finish packing, and
then Danielle and I are going out to dinner with all our parents." 
He gave Tessa a hug, and shook Jorge's hand.  He grasped Eric's hand
a moment longer, and they nodded to each other, silent
acknowledgement of their connection to each other.  He turned to me.

I put out my hand, and he grabbed it, but instead of merely shaking
my hand, he pulled me in and gave me a friendly hug.

"Take care, Sean.  Knock 'em dead this year."

"I'll miss you, buddy," I roughly whispered.  There was something
catching in my throat.

He let me go, and bent down to pick up his gear bag.  He threw it up
onto his shoulder, and we all followed suit.  As we got to our cars,
Trent called out, "See you at Christmastime!"

"Hey!" I shouted.  "You won't be back before that?  What about
Thanksgiving?"

"Nope.  We play right through November.  It's warm down there, Sean,
not like up here in the frigid north!"  He waved from his car, and
his wheels spun on gravel as he accelerated out of the parking lot.

Man, I thought to myself.  Trent and Danielle were leaving, team
tryouts were starting, school was only a week away.

Where had the summer gone?





The Lehigh/Jacks summer party was held that same afternoon and
evening.  By the time I got there, the softball game was already
history.  It was just as well, since I was pretty wiped out from the
multiple soccer parties I had hosted.  I was really looking forward
to collapsing in one of the Lehigh lounge chairs on their deck, a
frosty glass of soda close at hand, and Luscious sitting by my side. 
I wasn't going to move from that spot for hours.

Kayla squealed and ran over to me, and jumped into my arms when she
saw me.  I bent down and gave her a big kiss, even though most of the
neighborhood was watching, including her parents.  They just shook
their heads at us, smiling indulgently, and went back to cooking and
conversing.  I flopped down in a lounger, and Kay sat on the edge.

"How did it go today?" she asked, her hand resting comfortably on my
stomach.

"It went really great, but it was a long day," I said.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there to help you today," she said.

"It's okay, sweetie.  We were all there, and it went just fine.  I
know you had to work."

Jake came over and perched against the deck railing.

"Hey, Seanster, how's it going?"

"I'm hot, and sweaty, and tired, and looking forward to sleeping
in," I said.

He laughed.  "It's about time you had to work a little.  Soccer
players, they've got it easy.  Run around a little, sweat a little,
and they start crying about how tired they are.  You ought to try a
real sport like football."

I just looked at him.  I remembered working out with him at the gym.
I also remembered how wasted he got when he just had to run a couple
of miles with me.

He grimaced, obviously remembering the same thing.  What the hell, I
thought.  Getting back into the weight room would probably do me good.

Jaimie came over, toting a couple of cold cans of soda.  She handed
one to Jake, who gave her a peck on the lips as thanks.

"No scavenger hunt for us this year, sweetie," said Jaimie as she
popped open her can of pop.

Jake looked over at her, startled.  "Why not?"

Jaimie thrust her chin out toward the volleyball nets, where a bunch
of younger kids were playing, including her younger sister.

"I've got to stay with Tara the Bitch," said Jaimie irritably.

"What?  Why?"  It sounded like Jake had just had his plans for the
evening ruined.

"Because my parents will be helping your parents, and since Tara's
confined to the house at sunset, somebody's got to stay with her. 
That would be me."

Jake grumbled, "Ah, shit."  He paused for a moment, and then said,
"And she can't stay by herself?"

Jaimie gave him that look that girls are so good at, the one that
says, 'My boyfriend is an idiot.'

Jake sighed.  "No, I guess that wouldn't be such a good idea, would
it?  Oh, well.  Nothing to be done about it.  We'll just watch TV or
something."  He turned to us.  "You guys want to hang out with us
tonight?"

I glanced over at Kayla.

"Sure," she said, surprising me.  She looked over at me and giggled
to herself.  She gave me an almost imperceptible shake of her head,
discouraging me from contradicting her.  I knew what to do: when in
doubt, shut your mouth and trust the girlfriend.  All I had to do was
remember it, treat it like a mantra, and I would probably be okay.

A little later, when we were in line to fill our plates, I leaned
down and whispered into Kayla's ear.  "Why are we watching TV tonight
instead of going into the basement during the scavenger hunt?"

She smiled at me, and touched her fingers to the scar on my lip. 
"That wouldn't be enough time for us, anyway, love.  Be patient, all
will be well."

That simple touch, along with those simple words, was enough to get
my heart racing.  Yes, I thought to myself, all is well already.  For
Luscious, I could be very patient.





At sunset, a bitterly complaining Tara was sent off to her house by
her mom and dad.  Jake, Jaimie, Tara and I followed along behind her,
as if we just happened to be going in the same direction, and Tara
turned around and glared at us.  We were older, and not under house
arrest, therefore we were the enemy.  I could see it in her angry
eyes.

When we got in the house, Jaimie asked Tara if she wanted to watch
television with us.

"HBO?" asked Tara.

"No, 'Saturday Night Live'," answered Jaimie.

Tara grumbled, but finally flopped down on the couch and crossed her
arms underneath her small breasts and scowled at the TV.  Jaimie and
Tara headed for the kitchen to arrange some snacks and get sodas for
us all, and Jake and I sat on the floor.  Jake grabbed the remote,
and flipped through the channels, looking for some diversion to watch
until SNL came on.  Outside, we could hear the squeals of the younger
kids as they headed out on the scavenger hunt.  A couple of times the
doorbell rang, but we ignored it, and the kids at the door scrambled
off in search of other houses with treasure.

We found a rerun of "Barney Miller" and settled in.  Kayla nestled
up to me, and I put my arm around her comfortably.  Jake and Jaimie
moved up to sit on the couch, arms around each other.  As they
settled in, Tara looked over at them in disgust.

"Oh, gag me," she muttered as she looked at us.

"If you don't like it, you can go to your room instead," said Jaimie
with false sweetness.

"Oh, screw you," said Tara under her breath, but she stayed where
she was, staring balefully at the images on the television.

The "Saturday Night Live" show was a rerun, of course, but we didn't
care.  We cuddled and enjoyed the air conditioning and the sodas and
the chips and the warmth of being together.  We also perversely
enjoyed making Tara irritable, a task that was made much easier by
Tara herself.

Finally, a half-hour into SNL, Tara stood up.

"I'm going up to take a shower," she announced.  She stomped out of
the family room and up the stairs.  We ignored her as best we could,
which proved to be not too hard to do.

About an hour later, we were figuring the picnic and party were
probably wrapping up.  We started cleaning up the family room,
removing the detritus of our snacking, when we heard a loud thump
from upstairs, followed by a loud laugh.  The four of us stopped and
looked at each other, puzzled about the noise.  As we listened, I
thought I could hear more than one voice from upstairs.  There was
another loud thump.

"Oh, shit," said Jaimie.  She looked worried, and a little angry. 
She headed for the stairs, Jake right behind her.  I looked at Kayla,
who just shrugged, so we followed the other two and ran up the
stairs.  Jake and Jaimie were knocking on a door, presumably Tara's
bedroom door.  Jaimie rattled the doorknob, but the door was locked.

"Tara!  Open this door now!" yelled Jaimie.

There was no response, except for an odd shuffling sound, muffled by
the locked door.

"I'll get it," said Jake, and he gently pushed Jaimie aside and put
his meaty shoulder against the door, and he shoved.

The door popped open, banging against the wall and bouncing back,
and Jake stumbled into the room.  We all tumbled after him, and
stopped short to look at Tara, who was just locking her window, her
back to us.

She was naked, and she had her head turned toward us, looking at us,
a mixture of fear and triumph playing on her face.  She turned around
to face us, and walked back toward her tousled bed.  She looked calm,
but I could see her muscles quivering from fear or nervousness.  Her
face was flushed, and the rosy color bled down her throat and across
her chest, fading by the time it reached her small breasts.  Her
nipples looked red and damp, and it looked like somebody had dribbled
sugar glaze from her breast to her navel.  Her pussy lips, peeking
out of her sparse bush, were also swollen and red, and there was a
string of milky white semen dripping out of her pussy and down her
thigh.

"What have you done?" cried Jaimie, who took three quick steps
toward her sister and grabbed her by her biceps and shoved her
roughly down onto the bed.  Jake strode over to the window and looked
down, and swore.

"Jesus Christ, there's a ladder here!"  He shoved the window open
and stuck his head out.  "Hey!"  he yelled.  "You!  Over by the
garage!  Get your ass back over here!"

He started climbing out the window, and Jaimie cried out, "Jake! 
Don't do that, take the stairs!"

He pulled himself back and headed for the door.  He grabbed my arm
as he started out the room.  "Come on, Sean, let's run those bastards
down."

We ran down the stairs, taking them two and three at a time.

"Who did you see?" I asked as we threw open the back door and fanned
out toward the garage.  He was going to move around toward the back
of the garage on the house side, and I jogged over to go around the
opposite side.  The field was behind the garage, and the woods were
beyond that.  If whomever we were chasing made it into the woods,
they would be really hard to find.  "Jake?  Who was it?" I persisted.

I couldn't see his face, because of the dark and the distance, but
he sounded pretty reluctant when he finally answered.

"I think I saw two of them," he said quietly.  "I can't be sure,
Sean, but I think one of them was Stephen."

That was not the sort of ugly surprise I was expecting.  I raced
around the garage and met Jake on the other side, but there was no
one to be seen.  We jogged across the field and ventured a little way
along one of the many paths through the woods, but we both knew it
was futile, and we gave up after a few minutes of searching.

Dark thoughts invaded my head as we trudged back toward Jaimie's
house.  I needed to find Stephen, and he wasn't going to be a happy
camper once I got my hands on him.




(Continued in Chapter 36)
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