Message-ID: <51518asstr$1121011803@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Mail-Format-Warning: No previous line for continuation: Wed Aug 14 16:30:23 2002Return-Path: <revcottonmather@hotmail.com> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Message-ID: <BAY10-F5247658CE15D214EF4F207A4DA0@phx.gbl> X-Originating-Email: [revcottonmather@hotmail.com] From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <revcottonmather@hotmail.com> X-OriginalArrivalTime: 09 Jul 2005 13:56:57.0253 (UTC) FILETIME=[1205F550:01C5848E] X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sat, 09 Jul 2005 08:56:56 -0500 Subject: {ASSM} RP Playing to Win: Playing the Game II by R.C. Mather 13/41 (mf soccer) Lines: 858 Date: Sun, 10 Jul 2005 12:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2005/51518> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, newsman And the beat goes on... Enjoy! Rev. Cotton Mather Senior Pastor, Church of the Erotic Redemption http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ReverendCottonMather/www http://www.storiesonline.net www.ruthiesclub.com Would you like to be notified when I post new chapters or stories? Sign up at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/RCMStories/join **If I had to do it all over, I'd do it all over you** <1st attachment, "PTW13.txt" begin> --------------------------------------------------------------------- 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 2002, 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 - 13 - GIRLS' NIGHT OUT Our club season was finished, our school team had won its first game, and I had a long weekend ahead of me. I planned on being as lazy as I could be, all weekend long. From what Lori and Wendy had been paying me for teaching the boys, and all the games I officiated for the past year, plus the money I had earned working for Duane Olchick during his clinic, I was feeling pretty damned wealthy. I was even thinking I might have enough to buy a good, cheap car for myself. I brought the subject up during breakfast on Saturday morning. "I've been thinking, Dad," I said. "Uh-oh," warned my older brother Michael. "That's a real danger sign, when Sean's been thinking." I threatened to flick a spoonful of cereal at him, and he ducked out of the way playfully. "Cut it out, boys," warned my mother reflexively. "I'm almost afraid to ask. What have you been thinking, son?" asked my father. "Well, I think we need to go car shopping." "Why?" My mother turned from the sink to join the conversation. "Our cars are just fine, I thought. Is one of them broken?" "No," said my dad. "Unless Sean got in an accident last night, and isn't telling us." Everybody turned to look at me accusingly. "No, no accident or anything. Jeez! What I meant was, we should go car shopping for a car for me." "Oh, I understand now," said my dad. "In a word, no." "No?" I complained. "And why not?" "You can't afford it, first of all," he said. "And, second, we already have three cars in our driveway. You can use one of them anytime you want." "I can, too, afford it," I said. "And besides, you take yours to work every day, Mom needs hers to get to work and shopping and stuff, and Michael takes his to school." "And you're in school every day, too," said Dad patiently. "In the evenings, there's almost always at least two cars here. If you need to borrow one, all you need to do is ask for it, Sean." "It's not fair," I grumbled. "Michael's got his own car." "And I didn't get it until my senior year, either," he reminded me. "You're just a junior." "And it's not just the purchase price of the car you have to be able to afford, dear," offered my mom, as she poured more orange juice into my glass. "There's gas, and repairs, and tires, and insurance. It's not just a simple purchase of a car, Sean." "Yeah, yeah, I get it," I mumbled, discouraged. Dad reached over and tousled my hair. "Don't rush things, sport. You'll grow up fast enough. And in the meantime, if you need the car, just let Mom or me know ahead of time, and we'll do our best to make sure one is available for you. Okay?" "Yeah, okay," I acquiesced. I was disappointed that I wasn't going to be able to get my own wheels, but at least I got them thinking about being a little bit more liberal with the use of their cars. All was not lost. After breakfast, I grabbed my mom's keys and headed out the door with Stephen. I was taking him to his football practice, and I figured I could swing over to Jake's house until I had to pick Stephen back up again. Jake was playing on the Varsity football team, and their game was later that afternoon, so I knew he would be home, doing essentially nothing until he could stoke up on carbohydrates at lunchtime, saving his energy for the game. We watched one of the college games on TV for about an hour, and then ate lunch together, until I had to go back and pick up my brother. I dropped Jake off at school, so he could get ready for the game, and then went back and got Stephen. I dropped him at home, drove over to Becky's house, and picked her up for the football game, and got back to school and joined the mass of cars pulling into the parking lot for the game. Becks and I walked together into the stadium, and quickly found Eric and Keisha in the stands. They were sitting with Anthony Rogers and his girlfriend, Ayesha Ford, along with Trent and Danielle. We worked our way through the stands, sliding sideways down the row, through the crowd, to get to the seats they were saving for us. It was a warm afternoon, and we were in the sun during the game. "I should have brought some sun block," said Danielle. "I think I'm burning." "Me, too," said Ayesha. Trent laughed. "You, too? I didn't think that was possible." Eric glanced over at Ayesha, and then turned to Trent. "Sure, it's possible," he said. "Ayesha's fairly light-skinned, but even Keisha and I have to be careful sometimes." "No way," said Trent. "You're kidding, right?" "Nope," said Anthony. "Just because our skin is dark, doesn't mean we are immune to the sun's rays, man. We just don't turn pink and red and all, like you guys do." "But it's still a burn, and it still hurts," added Ayesha. "Hey, I'm sorry, Ayesha. I really didn't know," said Trent. She didn't look at all upset. She just nodded, and put on her big round sunglasses. "S'okay," said Anthony. "It's just another misconception about blacks, kind of like how we've all got great rhythm, or we're all hung." "I thought that one was true," murmured Eric, just loud enough for us to hear. Keisha snorted, shaking her head. "Anyway," said Anthony, "I can't dance for shit, so I know that at least the first statement ain't true." We all laughed, even though Ayesha looked a little embarrassed by the conversation. We were surrounded by fellow students, so we all did the yells and the cheers that the cheerleaders were coaxing out of the crowd, stomping our feet and acting silly. At halftime, Becky and I got up and wandered over to the snack shack, where we picked up sodas and popcorn for everybody. We got back to our seats just after the second-half kickoff, and we enjoyed watching our team pound the snot out of the Rockton Heights team, our biggest conference rivals. After the game, we were all filing out of the stadium. Becky was in front of me, and Eric was directly behind me. "Hey, Sean, you guys want to get together tonight? Maybe go get a pizza or something?" he asked. "Sure," I answered. I tapped Becky on the shoulder to get her attention. "Becks, you want to meet Eric and Keisha for pizza tonight?" "Okay," she said. "Where and what time?" I turned back to Eric. "She says okay, too. Where, and what time?" "I dunno, I'll have to call you. Trent has a place in mind, I think. I'll let you know." I turned back up and said to Becky, "Don't know yet where or when. I'll call you after Eric calls me." When we finally got to the exit, we still had to walk down the school driveway to the parking lot. Just outside the stadium, standing next to the chain-link fence, I saw Joey Amonte and Molly O'Toole, lounging around with Vinnie Arilio, Harold Barnes, Pammy Lipschutz, and another kid who looked like a younger incarnation of Richie Del Toro. The contrast between the grunginess of the Bulls, and Molly's All-American look in her cheerleading outfit, was jarring. I thrust my chin over in their direction. "Is that Poo-Poo's younger brother over there?" I asked. "Yeah," replied Anthony. "That's Angelo. They call him Jilly, and he's mean as a snake, from what I've heard. Meaner even than Richie." "Shit," said Eric, "with a name like Jilly, anybody'd be mean and nasty." "You can say that," warned Anthony, "but don't get in his way, bro." "The Bulls leave me alone," muttered Eric, "and I leave them alone. Long as they don't mess with me, I won't get in their faces." The crowd had thinned out by the time we got to the parking lot. We waved to our friends, and hopped into the car. Becky leaned over and gave me a quick kiss before settling back and fastening her seat belt. I started the car, and we made our way slowly out of the parking lot. I dropped Becky off at her house, promising to call her as soon as I heard from Eric, and I headed for home. I walked in the door, and headed upstairs to take a shower. By the time I got done getting cleaned up, it was just after 6:00. I came down the stairs, went into the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator to get a glass of milk. "Sean?" I heard my mom's voice coming from the family room. "There's a note on the table. Mrs. Wilkinson called. She wants you to call her back." I picked up the note, but it only contained her phone number. Nothing to indicate what it was about. I picked up the phone and dialed Lori's number. "Hello?" "Lori? Hi, it's Sean." "Oh, Sean, I'm sorry to bother you on a Saturday night," she said. She sounded sad, and maybe a little weepy. "But Mrs. Marcus - Wendy - insisted that I try calling you, to see if you can help me out." "Sure," I said. "What's up?" "Oh, I hate to even ask you this..." I could just make out another indistinct voice in the background. "It seems that, uh, my sister Joanie, and Wendy, they wanted me to go out to dinner with them tonight. Molly was supposed to baby-sit for me, but she hasn't shown up, and her mother doesn't know where she might be, and... well, I know it's an imposition, Sean, but I don't know who else I can call on such short notice... and I know you're probably busy anyway..." Her voice cut off, and it sounded like somebody grabbed the phone from Lori's hand. "Hello, Sean?" It was Wendy who was on the phone, now. "Could you possibly come over and sit with Lori's boys tonight?" There was no hesitation in Wendy's manner about asking me to do this. In fact, she sounded like she fully expected me to comply with her request, no questions asked. I was just about to tell her no, when she cupped her hand over the mouthpiece and quietly said, "Please, Sean, could you do this? Joanie and I want to take Lori out to take her mind off this weekend. Kind of a girls' night out. It's the anniversary of her husband's accident." Now I remembered. Lori's husband had been in a motorcycle accident two years before, and he was kept alive, on life support, for five days before Lori finally agreed to pull the plug. He died of massive internal injuries. It was just last year at this time that she had extracted a promise from me, that I would never get on a motorcycle. I couldn't leave her in the lurch, just because I was in a defiant mood with Wendy. I sighed. "Okay," I said. "Put Lori back on the line, would you?" I could hear Wendy saying everything would be okay as she handed the phone back to Lori. "Sean? Are you there?" "Yes," I replied. "Let me see if I can borrow my mom's car, and I'll be right over." "You really don't have to do this, Sean," she said. "It's fine, Lori, really. I didn't have any plans for tonight, anyway." After saying goodbye, I quickly called Eric, and told him I wasn't going to be able to make it. I explained the situation to him. He said, "Thass okay, man, you gotta take care of friends, I understand." "Thanks, Eric. I'll see you on Tuesday." "Okay. You call Becky yet?" "No, I've got to do that now." "Oh, man, good luck," he said as he hung up. I called Becky, and gave her the bad news. She was not happy with me. "You're going to what?" she asked. "I've got to baby-sit," I repeated. "It's a long story, and they're good friends, and they're in a bind," I explained. She didn't know Lori, even though she was aware that I was teaching soccer to the Wilkinson kids. "Okay, Sean," she said, but she still sounded pretty pissed. "If you feel you must do this, I understand. But you'll make this up to me, won't you?" "Of course I will," I said hurriedly. Let's see, I thought to myself, breaking a Saturday night date, an hour before I was supposed to pick her up. This was going to cost me, big time. "All right, then," she said, somewhat mollified. "Have fun." Women, I thought to myself as I hung up the phone. Can't figure them out at all. Mom said it was okay to take the car, so I hopped in and drove over to Lori's house. Wendy's car was in the street, and another car, presumably Joanie's, was in the driveway. I pulled in next to Joanie's, and ran up the front steps to the door, and rang the bell. Lori opened the door, stepping aside to let me come in. My instinct about her was right. Her eyes were red, and even her artfully applied makeup couldn't completely conceal the dark rings under her eyes. She was dressed in a simple red silk blouse and a pleated skirt that came to just above her knees. A wave of affection hit me hard, not only for Lori, but for Wendy, too, for trying to ease her friend's pain by distracting her for an evening. Wendy was in the kitchen, sipping on a glass of white wine. With her was another lady, who was obviously Lori's older sister, also with a wine glass in her hand. Wendy was dressed to kill, in a pastel pant suit and a flowery silk blouse that had the top three buttons undone, allowing her ample cleavage to be revealed. Her eyes were hard when I walked in, but softened immediately, in recognition of my efforts on Lori's behalf. Lori, following me into the kitchen, made the introductions. "Sean, this is my sister, Joanie." I strode over and held out my hand. Joanie shook it firmly, her grip lingering for just a moment as she looked me up and down. "I've heard great things about you, Sean," she said. She had a low, gravelly voice that was oddly compelling. I thought she looked like she was a few years older than Lori. She had the same slim build as Lori, though she was a little heavier in the hips than her sister, and she cut her dark hair shorter, but there was a clear family resemblance. Her clothes looked expensive, but they smelled of cigarette smoke, which might have explained the huskiness in her voice. "Thank you, but these two might tend to exaggerate my virtues," I said. "When it comes to helping their kids, I've noticed that moms can get pretty fierce in their loyalties." "It comes built-in," said Joanie with a smile. "It's all part of our maternal instinct, I think." Wendy took Joanie's glass, and carried it over, along with hers, to the sink and rinsed them out. "We'd better be going, or we'll be late for our reservations," she said briskly. "Right," said Lori distractedly. "Oh, Sean, the boys are upstairs, taking their baths. They didn't know you were coming, so I'd better go tell them." "There's no need," I said. "They knew a babysitter was coming over, right?" Lori nodded. "Okay, then, we'll let it be a surprise for them, that I'm their babysitter for the evening." "But I don't know..." "Oh, poo, it's fine," interrupted Wendy. She bustled around, and grabbed Lori's arm. As she was firmly guiding her toward the back door, she continued, "Sean knows your boys almost as well as you do, for goodness sake. They'll be fine." Joanie followed them out the door, closing it behind her. I could hear Wendy chattering on, all the way down the driveway to her car, engaging Lori in a barrage of conversation to help take her mind off everything. I watched out the open window as Joanie caught up with them, and joined in. I could hear the buzz of their voices, but not their actual conversation, as they opened the car doors and climbed in, Wendy and Lori in the front seats and Joanie in the back. The car doors slammed, abruptly shutting off the buzz of their voices, and they headed down the road. I sat down in the family room, waiting for the boys to come down. I thought about calling Becky, thinking maybe she could come over after the boys went to bed, but before I could pick up the telephone, I heard two sets of little feet pounding down the stairs. Davey and Kip came racing into the family room, and skidded to a stop when they saw me. "Sean!" "Sean!" "Hi, guys," I said with a smile. "Are you our babysitter tonight?" asked Davey. "Well, I'm your sitter tonight, but you guys aren't babies, are you?" "No!" laughed Kip. "We're big boys!" "Okay, then," I said. "I guess I'm a big boy sitter, then." "And not a BABY sitter," Kip exclaimed. "That's right," I agreed with a laugh. "Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy," said Davey as he ran around the couch. "Whoa, there, pardner," I admonished. "Slow down, Davey, you're making me dizzy." I reached out and tried to grab him to stop him from running, but he swerved and avoided me. Kip thought it looked like so much fun, he started running after Davey, around and around. I sighed. It looked like it was going to be a long, active evening. I got up and walked into the kitchen to fill glasses with ice and sodas. The boys got tired of chasing each other, and ran into the kitchen to see what I was doing. "Okay, guys, here's the plan," I said. "You two stop running, and you can have something to drink. Then, we can find something to watch on television, or we can play a game. Your choice." "Game!" cried Kip. "Play a game!" yelled Davey. "All right, a game. Which game? Let's go look at what you have," I suggested. We set our drinks down on the kitchen table, and they each grabbed a hand and pulled me to the front closet, where their games were stored. "How about Life?" I suggested. "Sissy game," complained Davey. "How about Snakes and Ladders?" "Yeah," agreed Kip. "Snakes and Ladders!" I pulled the box out of the pile, and carried it into the family room. "Okay, guys, you get the game set up, and I'll bring our drinks in from the kitchen." By the time I got back with the three glasses of pop, Davey and Kip had the game set up. We sat on the floor, with the game on the coffee table, and spent the next couple of hours rolling the dice, letting our game pieces climb up ladders and slide down snakes, each trying to beat the other two to the finish line. Finally, though, it got to be 9:30, way past their normal bedtime. It was dark out, with scattered pools of light thrown by the streetlamps and porch lights up and down the street. "Okay, you guys, time for bed," I said. "Aw, please can't we stay up?" "Just one more game? Please?" "No. Your mom's going to tan my hide if she finds out you guys are still up. Now, march upstairs and get your teeth brushed, both of you." I pointed toward the stairs. With much grumbling, the boys shuffled to the stairs, heads down as if I had severely punished them. "Let me know when you're ready, and I'll come up and read you a story," I offered. Their faces brightened. "Okay!" they shouted, nearly simultaneously, and they raced each other up the stairs. I just shook my head at their antics as I cleaned up our mess. I carried the glasses into the kitchen and set them in the sink, and returned to the family room with a cloth to wipe the coffee table. I put the game away, and was just about to sit down when I heard them calling me from the upstairs landing. As I got to the top of the stairs, both boys raced to Davey's room and jumped onto his bed. Davey was clutching a paperback book of The Berenstain Bears in his hands, and he handed it to me. They had their pajamas on, and Kip was holding a stuffed owl under one arm. They settled back against the pillows and waited for me to sit on the edge of the bed and begin the story. "'It had been a wonderful summer for the Bear family,'" I began. By the end of the book, Sister Bear had found out that school really was fun, and she and Brother Bear were on the Big Yellow School Bus, heading back for another exciting day at school. "The End," I finished. Davey and Kip just smiled. "Another one?" asked Kip hopefully. "To bed with you, ruffians," I said. I picked Kip up. "Oof. Did you eat bricks for dinner?" He giggled. "No, I had pas-ghetti," he replied. Davey laughed out loud. "Not 'pas-ghetti', stupid. It's 'spageddity'." Kip and I both laughed. "That's not right," yelled Kip. "Tell him, Sean, 'spageddity' is wrong!" "You're both wrong," I said, dropping Kip back on the bed. "It's 'noodles'." I shooed Kip off of Davey's bed. "Now skedaddle, you. It's past time you two were asleep." Finally, I managed to get the boys into their proper beds, with the lights off and the doors closed. Both boys slept with their closet lights on, the closet doors cracked open just enough so that a small spill of light could be seen. Monsters didn't like the light, and there were no monsters allowed, according to Kip. I crept back down the stairs and collapsed on the couch. Babysitting was harder work than I had realized, especially when you were taking care of two boys as energetic as Davey and Kip. I turned on the TV and flipped through the channels. Saturday Night Live was a rerun, but there was a station showing the 1943 Claude Rains version of "Phantom of the Opera." My brother Michael was a huge movie fan, and he had insisted that I watch this with him one time, and I discovered I had a taste for movie classics, especially melodramatic horror movies from the thirties and forties. I refilled my glass and settled in to watch, plumping up the throw pillows on the couch and stretching out, my shoes kicked off and my t-shirt untucked. I didn't last long. Sometime during the second reel, I fell asleep. The scenes being performed on the stage of the Paris Opera House in the movie were reflected in my dreaming brain, melding and creating odd, disjointed images that splashed against my closed eyelids, and scattered away into infinity, all in fractions of seconds. I heard car doors slamming, and the sound of female voices laughing, counterpointed by the swelling organ music from the television, and my mind seamlessly worked these external sounds into a semi-cohesive scene in my dream. From somewhere in the same room, I heard quiet voices. "Oh, God, that's just too cute." "Shut up, Wendy, you'll wake him." "I know how I'd like to wake him." "Wendy!" "Maybe you should wake him that way, Lori." "Wendy! Please!" A throaty giggle. "You don't have to say please, girl. It's there, on the couch, just lying there and waiting for you." "You are really awful, do you know that?" "Tell me you've never thought about it, Lori." "Me? God, he's young enough to be my...." "Your younger brother?" A sigh. "Go home, Wendy. You're tipsy." "You're a little high yourself, Lori. Inhibitions are lowered. Go for it. You deserve it." "You are terrible. Go home. I'll call you in the morning." "Okay, honey, but not too early, okay? Arthur's playing golf in the morning, and I need my beauty sleep. G'night. Good luck." That throaty chuckle again. A door closed. Silence. Soft footsteps, and then the impression of the heat of a very close body. Soft hair, tickling my forehead and cheeks. Wine-sweetened breath hitting my nose, my mouth, my chin. Soft, so softly I couldn't be sure it was real or part of the dream, a soft pressure of lips against mine. The Phantom was taking his paramour Christine down into the catacombs of Paris on the television, and soft fingers were caressing my bicep, and the dream took a decidedly erotic turn. I was swimming up out of the dream, struggling toward the surface of consciousness, unsure if I really wanted to awaken, or sink back into the dream. The lips pressed again, soft and pliant and warm, with that odd slickness of lipstick helping the two sets of lips to part slightly, finding a more natural fitting. I didn't want to open my eyes, only to burst the bubble of this dream. My arms came up to the narrow ghostly shoulders I knew would be there, and I heard and felt a soft moan come from the faerie creature leaning over me, and she pressed closer to me, her lips no longer a feather against mine, but a living, warm weight of promise and desire. My arms went around her neck, and I pulled her on top of me. I felt very real silk and cotton, real flesh and blood as she lay down on me, the points of her breasts pressing into my chest, her knees inside my parted legs, her feet touching the tops of mine. Her hair fell like a curtain across our faces, and she tilted her head, opened her mouth against mine, and let her tongue brush against my lips as she held my head in both her hands. She tasted of me, as I opened my mouth and surrendered to her. Her tongue explored the shape of my lips, forayed into my mouth, and encountered my own tongue, lying in wait. She darted, withdrew, darted out again, always tempting, always teasing, testing and provoking, until I could take it no more. Finally, our tongues writhed against each other, our passions released, our senses awakened. She moaned again, or maybe it was my own groan I heard, and she squirmed as she lay on me, creating an impressive weight and heat along the entire length of my body. I was startled to discover that I was at full mast, and her pelvis was pressed against the turgid length of my manhood, as if measuring how deep it would go. My hands slid down her back, smoothing the rumples of her blouse, slipping down the smoothness to her small waist, blindly searching for a hem. The fingers found the rolled seam, slipped beneath, and ascended again, this time tickling along the bare skin of her back and sides. With a sucking sound, Lori broke our kiss, and arched up, rocking back onto her knees. She crossed her arms in front of her, grasped her blouse from the bottom, and lifted it up and over her head. The neck of her blouse caught in her hair, and lifted the mass up. It fell back around her face in soft waves as she tossed her blouse to the side, reached behind her, and unfastened her lacy bra. She let the white garment slide down her arms, inadvertently hiding the vision of her unfettered breasts from my now wide-open eyes for a moment, before tossing it in the direction of her blouse. She knelt there for a moment, a serious expression on her lovely face, allowing me to feast on the vision of her naked breasts. She grasped my hands, placed them on her tummy, and guided them up, my palms registering the soft feel of her skin, and the swell of her beautiful breasts, and the pebbly hardness of her nipples. She pressed my hands against her breasts, leaning in to increase the pressure, and I could feel her nipples expand, dimpling my palm. Slowly, she collapsed back onto me, her mouth automatically seeking mine, to resume our high-pressure kisses. As she fell back onto me, my hands slipped from her breasts, around to her back. I slid them down to the globes of her incredible butt, grasping the flesh and pressing her harder against my steely cock. She wiggled her hips against me as I clutched her to me, and I hitched up her skirt, rucking up the material until I felt the hem. I pulled the bunched up skirt higher, and let my hands rest on her tight ass, with just the thin layer of her panties between her skin and my fingers. I let my fingers explore, from her hips to the juncture of her thighs, where a substantial heat and dampness was found, until I could contain myself no longer. My fingers spidered up the mounds of her bottom, and grasped the elastic waistband of her panties. She lifted up her hips, and I slid her underwear down, off her hips and to her thighs. She reached down herself and pushed them further down her legs, until she could kick them off. I could feel her drooling pussy heating up against my crotch as she lay back down on me, my hands resuming their exploration of the moist folds between the cheeks of her ass. As I separated her nether lips, releasing a flood of hot, oily lubrication, she moaned once more into my mouth, and broke our connection once again. She knelt up again, dressed in only her skirt, and reached for my shirt. She worked it up and over my head, and then grabbed the waistband of my sweat pants, pulling them down, along with my underwear. Everything got hung up on my stiff cock, causing a momentary panic. Lori chuckled softly, lifted the material away from me, and continued shucking my clothes down my legs. She stared at my throbbing cock all the while with shining eyes, working my pants off each foot and throwing them aside. Almost absent-mindedly, she stood, and pulled her skirt down, and stepped out of it, so that we were both completely naked. She knelt back down, her knees straddling my legs, and reached with both hands for my cock and balls. As she tenderly grasped the stalk with one hand, and gently held my sac with the other, she sighed and whispered, "It's been so long..." She bowed down and slowly, agonizingly, licked up my shaft as she held it in her small hand. It was nearly enough to do me in. My hips involuntarily bucked up, as my cock jerked at the touch, and my heart started beating faster. All I could do was watch her as she examined me, reacquainting herself with a male body. She must have decided she couldn't hold off any longer, because she sat up, crawled up my body until her crotch was poised over me, and lowered herself slightly. She was still holding my cock in her hand, and she rubbed the head against her pussy lips, stroking herself from her clitoris to her vagina for a moment, spreading her moisture around the sensitive tip of my cock. She held me still against her tight opening, allowing her weight to settle just a little more, and I felt the head spreading her lips further apart, and entering her hot, flexible hole. She threw her head back in pleasure, and slowly allowed herself to sink, impaling herself on my rod, until she settled down, and I was fully inside her. She ground down on me just a little, and groaned. "Oh my god, so long," she whispered again, as her body accustomed itself to the intrusion. She put her hands on the couch above my shoulders, leaning on them, her hair falling down around her face like a veil, and she started moving. I reached up and grasped her dangling breasts, pinching her nipples and hefting their weight, as she pumped her hips up and down, rotating slightly at the top and at the bottom of her pistoning action. The heat and the friction were incredible, and I knew I wouldn't last very long. But it didn't matter. As soon as I reached up and pulled her down so that I could take a turgid nipple into my mouth, she screeched breathlessly, and her movements against me got a little uncoordinated, as she quickly reached the summit. I pushed up into her as far as I could go, and bit down lightly on her nipple, as I felt her walls pulse and squeeze my cock as she orgasmed. I came hard, spurting several hard pulses deep into her, adding my own juices to hers at our joining. Her eyes were squeezed closed, and her mouth was stretched in a rictus very much like pain, as she worked for every last nerve ending to shiver and pulse with pleasure, until her arms could no longer hold her, and she collapsed down onto me breathlessly. The tension in her body drained out as I held her close, feeling the sweat of our exertions pop out on both of us, and I slowly ran my fingers up and down her spine, willing her to cool down a little. I was still buried deep inside her, and I could feel my cock wilting just a little, in spite of the tight grip of her honeyed walls. I planted little kisses on her cheek and her forehead, unsure if she was even aware of my ministrations. At last she seemed to come to her senses, and she lifted her head up. She seemed to see me for the first time, the sudden recognition burning brightly in her eyes. "Oh, Sean, I'm so sorry..." she began. "Shhhh," I said. I gently pressed her head back down, until she acquiesced, and let it rest against my neck and shoulder. She settled down against me with a small sigh, but her shifting caused an unexpected reaction from my heightened senses. Blood flow was diverted, and my cock began refilling. I was acutely aware of her breasts squashed against my bare chest, and the heat of her thighs against mine were practically creating burn marks. I felt the precise moment she realized what was happening. She stiffened as she felt my cock expand within her, and her hips began to tremble in anticipation. She lifted her head up, a questioning look in her eyes. I pulled her to me, and rolled her over, flipping her onto her back on the couch, with me nestled between her splayed legs. She giggled, and held on as I started flexing my thighs, glutes and abs, pumping my now rock-hard cock through her slickness. She moaned then, and closed her eyes to concentrate on the sensations telegraphing from her center through her nervous system, and pulled her knees up, wrapping her heels across my thighs and tilting her bottom up so I could get even deeper into her. I reached up and grabbed a flattened boob, squeezing and kneading it, until the nipple was reddened and expansive, and then I reached down between us, thrusting my hand down until I could feel our connection. I dragged my fingertips through her swollen folds, and pinched her clit between my first and second fingers as I worked my cock in and out of her, and she flipped into another climax. She clutched at me as she came, throwing her hips up at me in complete abandon, but I was relentless. I continued to rub her clit as I pumped into her, and she rolled into a second orgasm, followed by a third. It was all too much for me, by then. Sweat was rolling off me, dripping off my chin and collecting unnoticed in the small of her throat. I took my hand away and grabbed her shoulder, and flexed my hips as hard as I could, feeling her vaginal muscles contracting against the inflexible tube of my flesh, and I felt my own orgasm take over, turning me inside out in its intensity. I felt the plumbing pump and pulse three, then four, then five times, until there was nothing left to give, and I collapsed on top of her, tired to the bone. Finally, naked and sweating and panting, we both came to realize where we were, and who we were. A not very comfortable silence descended as we shifted to take pressure off our intimate parts. I slipped out of her with a barely audible pop, and ended up kneeling on a very wet couch cushion, soaked with our combined juices. I rolled off the couch, and knelt on the floor. I still had one arm draped across her, under her breasts, as we looked at each other. "Uh, Lori..." I started. She pressed her palm against my lips to silence me. "No, Sean, please don't say anything," she whispered. "Not yet, anyway." Her eyes were shining. We stayed like that, just looking in each other's eyes, for several minutes. Finally, I pushed myself to a standing position, and turned away from her, suddenly self-conscious about my nakedness. I grabbed my clothes and pulled them on. Finally, unable to put off the moment any longer, I turned to her, but before I could say anything, she just shook her head. "It's okay, Sean," she reassured me as she sat up. She reached down and picked up her blouse, and clutched it to her breasts. "Thank you for... everything. You've been my best friend, my best male friend, for a long time." I was about to say something, no doubt something incredibly stupid, but she shushed me before I could open my mouth. "Sometimes friends... comfort each other, Sean. It doesn't have to mean anything beyond an expression of friendship, if we don't let it." Her lower lip trembled. She was doing her best to convince me, and I thought she was also attempting to convince herself of the truth of her words. She finally gave in to her feelings, however, and stood and came over to me. She put her arms around me, dropping her blouse to the floor, and rested her head against my chest. I couldn't resist putting my arms around her once more. For comfort, I told myself. Even though she was naked, and clinging to me, and her skin felt so incredibly smooth and warm against my palms. It was for comfort. Comfort. She took a deep, shuddering sigh when she felt me hug her. Her voice was muffled, but I still heard her clearly. "Okay?" "Okay," I agreed. (Continued in Chapter 14) <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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