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From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <revcottonmather@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Rev and RP - Playing the Game (Ch. 3-4 of 30) by R.C. Mather
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Date: Tue, 15 May 2007 00:10:01 -0400
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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

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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, "PTG03.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, revisions c. 2007, R.C. Mather)

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

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


PLAYING THE GAME

A Novel

by R.C. Mather




- 3 -

KAYLA'S THERAPY




By nine o'clock the next morning, I was a nervous wreck. I didn't
know what time I should show up at Kayla's house, or if I should even
go at all. 'What will I do if Jake answers the door? Or worse, what
if Mrs. Lehigh is there, but Jake isn't? What would I say then? Can
Kayla come out to play? I don't think so.' I thought about just
blowing it off, rounding up a bunch of guys for a game of baseball or
soccer, and considering her offer to be merely the fevered workings
of a kid sister's overactive imagination.

But, in the end, I let the little head do the thinking (it has ended
up being a major theme in my life, I suppose), and by nine-thirty, I
was standing outside her front door looking around nervously to see
if anybody was around to see me. I was so nervous, I was sweating
bullets. But I was there, and I was not about to back out at that
point. I rang the bell.

Nothing happened. Nobody came to the door, and there was no sound
that I could detect from inside the house, other than the
reverberation of their doorbell. I didn't know whether I should be
relieved or pissed off. I rang the bell again, just to be able to
tell myself that I did my part. If Kayla wasn't home, at least I
tried.

A window upstairs opened. I looked up and Kayla was at the window. I
couldn't see her very well through the screen, so I backed up onto
the sidewalk a little ways. Just knowing she was there caused my
stomach to flutter, and my dick to begin to harden.

"Sean!" Kayla called out to me. "Come around to the back door and
come in, the door's unlocked. I'm having a little trouble with
stairs, so I can't come down to let you in. Come on upstairs into my
room, okay?"

"Okay, be right there," I said.

I ran around to the back door and went in. The house was quiet. I
heard Kayla call to me down the stairs. "I'm up here."

I went into the front hall and went up the stairs. She was standing
at the top of the stairs watching me, a nervous smile on her face.
When I reached the top landing, she grabbed my hand and led me down
the hall and into her room, leaving the door open so we could hear if
anyone came into the house.

Her room still had a lot of little-girl décor in it, with a ton of
stuffed animals on the bed, a few Barbie and Ken dolls on a bookcase
against the wall, and pictures of horses and kittens on her walls.
There was a poster of John Travolta from some movie on the wall above
her small nightstand.

She led me over to the foot of her bed. Her hands felt as sweaty as
mine for some reason. I looked her over. She was barefoot, dressed in
a scoop-necked t-shirt and an old pair of gym shorts, and her right
leg was bandaged above the knee with an elastic bandage. She sat down
on the edge of the bed. I noticed that she already had the liniment
and towels on the bed.

"I think I'm ready for you," she said. Her eyes got a little wider,
as if she didn't really mean it to come out quite that way.

"Okay," I replied nervously. "Scoot back on the bed and let's get
started."

She lay back with her head on her pillow, and moved over toward the
middle of the bed to give me some room. I glanced over at her as I
folded the towels and washcloths. I noticed that her nipples were
prominent on her small chest, and she was breathing fast. Her face
was slightly flushed, and she clutched her hands below her chin while
she watched me.

"Do you want me to take off the bandage now?" I asked her.

She looked at me wide-eyed, and nodded her head. She bent her leg
for me, and I reached over to unwind the bandage from her thigh.

'Oh my God,' I thought to myself. Her skin felt even smoother and
softer than I recalled from yesterday. Almost immediately, my
erection began to rise. As I unwrapped the bandage, I couldn't help
but notice that her gym shorts were very loose. I could see the
bottom of the cheek of her ass. Unless she was wearing a pair of
thong panties, a relatively new type I had only heard about but never
seen, and a highly unlikely choice for a thirteen-year-old, she
didn't seem to be wearing any underwear at all.

I threw the bandage onto the floor and grabbed the liniment. I
poured a small amount into the palm of my hand, and rubbed my hands
together. I started as I did the day before, rubbing the liniment
into her thigh from the knee upwards. Again, I was afraid I might be
receiving the wrong signals from this young girl, so, like the
previous time, I stopped at mid-thigh, rubbed down to the inside and
the outside of her leg, and pressed back to her knee. I did this five
or six times without venturing close to her shorts, hoping for some
encouragement from her.

As I massaged, I looked at her face. Unlike yesterday, she was
looking down, watching me tend to her leg. Her eyes were very bright,
and she was softly biting her lower lip. She looked up into my eyes,
and my doubts were banished. She almost imperceptibly nodded, and
then she smiled and put her head back against her pillow. On my next
pass up her thigh, I allowed my hands to nearly wrap around her leg.
Near the seam of her shorts, I let up on the pressure and gave in to
the temptation of caressing her skin on her leg. I let my fingertips
play on the outside of her leg as the palm of my other hand slowly,
lovingly enjoyed the smooth, supple feel of her inner thigh, all the
way down again to her knee. Her leg was small enough that, as I
caressed her this way, my fingers were able to play along the back of
her thigh at the same time.

As my hand moved down her leg, I could feel that she was slightly
trembling in anticipation. Just like the day before, her chest was
rising and falling with her fast breathing and there was a fine sheen
of perspiration on her upper lip and her forehead. I straightened out
her leg, and she immediately moved it away from her other leg. I
massaged her thigh once more, this time moving my hands under the leg
of her shorts. The fingertips of my right hand could feel moisture at
the juncture, while my left hand moved underneath her shorts to
caress the lower cheek of her tiny butt. I could feel the heat she
was generating from her center, through my fingertips, into my brain,
and directly to my cock. My fingers grazed down to the inside of her
leg, then out from her shorts again, and down. As I did this, she
moaned softly and spread her legs further apart. I couldn't take my
eyes off the prize lying just beneath the material of her gym shorts
as I ran my hand once more up her leg, softly this time, feeling the
smoothness of the inside of her thigh. As I reached the juncture once
again, I moved under the leg of her shorts and encountered her pussy
for the first time. She bent her legs and spread them apart, then
lifted up her hips to meet my fingers. By that time, the entire area
around her pussy was soaked, including her shorts. The odor emanating
from her was intoxicating, and I found myself moving up closer to her
to take in more of that wonderful fragrance. My fingertips found her
moist little pussy and began exploring. As I moved up her slit, her
pussy lips parted and delivered their moisture to my fingers. My
fingertips delved into the chasm of her center, reveling in the heat
and the oily wetness. I could almost sense the taste of her through
my fingertips. As I brushed across her tiny clit, she jerked and
moaned once more. Peripherally, I could see that she was clutching
her hands on her boobs, squeezing them. I could feel that she had a
very sparse amount of hair, and I pushed my fingers through until the
little blonde hairs were tickling my hand as I cupped her mound. I
then began the slow journey back down, into her slit again, to roll
her clit between my index finger and my middle finger, causing her
hips to rotate as if she was trying to capture my hand within her
center. Her breath caught, and she gave over to the sensations
washing over her.

"Ohhhhh, yes, Sean, that's it, don't stop," she moaned.

I manipulated the tiny nub, standing upright like a soldier
surrounded by a flood, then delved down to her tiny opening. I dipped
a fingertip into her hole, then dragged it back up to play with her
clit again. Two times, then three, my fingers made the journey from
nub to opening, each time dipping further into her before returning
to her pleasure point. On the fourth time, I slipped my middle finger
all the way into her. My knuckles were resting against her as I
rotated my finger within her. She was incredibly wet and hot, and as
I twisted my finger, her hips bumped up and down, trying desperately
to pull even more of my hand within her. I pulled slowly out, and
then plunged back in again. She gasped, her eyes flew open, and she
began to emit a soft keening sound. As I pulled my finger out of her
and ran my fingertips through her gash back to her clit, she grasped
my hand and held it tight against her nub, rubbing it up and down.
Her back arched, and she began huffing and puffing. Her fingernails
dug into my wrist as she experienced her first real orgasm.

She let go of my wrist as she slowly came down. She turned onto her
side, facing me, and raised her legs up into a fetal position. She
smiled and held her arms out to me. I lay down next to her and put my
arms around her. She hugged me fiercely.

"Thank you, Sean. That was so wonderful. Mmmmmmm..." she murmured.

I lifted up her chin and bent down to kiss her. Her lips were
amazingly soft and pliant as we kissed, then abruptly turned hungry.
Instinctively, she parted her lips, and I slipped my tongue between
them and gently touched the tip of her tongue with mine.

That was all it took to stoke the fire within her. Instinct seemed
to take over. Her mouth opened wider, and she stuck her tongue all
the way into my mouth in a fierce hunger I had not expected. Our
tongues were wrestling each other, and she hung on tight to my sides
as she rolled me over on top of her. We were laying together like a
noontime shadow, my legs directly on top of hers, stomach to stomach,
her small breasts crushed against my chest. I was just beginning to
wonder if I was crushing her, when I felt her reach down and clutch
at my ass, pulling my pelvis harder into hers, my cock a log running
up her tummy. She spread her legs, and I slipped down between them. I
could feel her heat directly on my rigid cock then, and the
combination of the pre-cum from my tip and the flood from her pussy
had soaked through my shorts as well as hers. As soon as she felt me
pressing against her slit, she started rolling her hips, increasing
and decreasing the pressure against her whole pussy.

Without breaking the kiss, I moved my hand from her shoulder, down
her back, and across her waist onto her stomach. Her stomach muscles
started quivering and jumping, almost as if I was tickling her. I
moved my hand up under her shirt onto her ribcage. She squealed into
my mouth, then grabbed my hand and moved it onto her unfettered
breast.

My entire hand covered her small boob, the nipple trying to poke
through my palm. I had never felt anything so sensuous, so soft, so
pliant and alive. I knew at that moment that I was hooked forever on
the sensation of enjoying a supple, willing female.

Without relinquishing my hold on her breast, I worked her t-shirt up
with my arm and wrist. I was able to work it up over my hand, and up
around her armpit and neck. I broke our kiss, and started in on her
neck and throat, working my way down with my lips and tongue. I
rolled a little to the side so I could reach her other breast, then
dipped my head down and licked the underside of her left breast. She
arched her back, trying to press her breast into my mouth. I licked
her turgid nipple, all the while marveling at the feel and taste of
her skin on my tongue. She moaned again, and began running her leg up
mine while her hands found their way underneath my shirt, one
shifting up and down my back and the other on my chest.

I sat up and tore my shirt off, then helped her to sit up while I
removed her shirt. I gazed in wonder at her, looking for the first
time on a live, nearly naked girl. The vision was stupendous. She lay
back against her pillow, watching me, arms at her sides. I knew she
was a little embarrassed, and she probably instinctively wanted to
try to cover up, but she didn't. She was flushed and breathing
heavily, but she looked a lot calmer than I certainly felt.

"God, you are so beautiful," I said to her. She blushed, and then
smiled.

"No, I'm not," she said. "Look at me, I'm skinny and my boobs are
too small."

"No, no, you're wrong," I assured her. "You are the most gorgeous
creature I have ever seen. And your boobs are perfect, the best I've
ever seen."

She smiled. "Oh, is that right, Mr. Smarty? And just how many have
you seen?"

"Well," I said sheepishly, "these are the first I've actually seen
live, but they're better than any pictures I've ever seen, too.
Better than I imagined them."

She reached up to me then and said softly, "Show me how much you
like them, Sean. I love it when you touch me."

She held me by the back of my neck and guided my lips to her breast
once again. I lay down next to her, and pressed my hand against one
small breast while I licked and sucked on the other. After a few
minutes, I ran my tongue across her nipple, down the mound of her
small breast, through the valley between her boobs, then up to the
other nipple, which was standing at attention and awaiting my
ministrations.

I licked around the tip, and then sucked the nipple through my lips
and into my mouth. I tried to get as much of her breast as I could
into my mouth. I could feel her erect nipple on the back of my tongue
as I sucked and licked. I heard Kayla moaning softly as she pressed
the back of my head against her with one of her hands.

While I was engaged in the oral manipulation of her boobs, I allowed
my hand to brush lightly down her ribcage and her stomach, to the
elastic waistband of her shorts. I ran my hand under the waistband,
then around across her hips to her ass, cupping her tight cheek. I
brought my hand back up to her waist, and pushed her shorts off her
hip, then slid my hand around her tummy to the other side, and pushed
her shorts off that hip. She raised her ass up off the bed, and
reached down to help me lower them down her legs, and then she kicked
them off onto the floor. My fingertips gave her inner thighs
butterfly kisses as I dragged them up her legs, causing them to
spread apart as I approached her pussy once more. I cupped her mound
with my hand, then took my middle finger and pressed it between her
pussy lips, enjoying once again the heated flood of her juices as my
fingers became coated.

Just as I dragged across her virginal opening, I felt her reach down
to my shorts, clutching at the hardness there. She rubbed her small
hand up and down my rigid cock, causing me to moan in unison with
her. She tried to manipulate the button and zipper but was struggling
with them. I took my hand off her mound and helped her to open my
shorts. Together, we pushed off my shorts and underwear (If only I
had been thinking ahead like she had done, I thought raggedly to
myself), and she timidly, yet eagerly, touched the bare skin of my
erect penis. She let her fingers explore gently for a moment, and
then she grabbed it and pumped her hand, causing my hips to rock
involuntarily. Apparently satisfied with my reaction, she then
allowed her fingers to do a little exploring. She found the tip, and
smeared the pre-cum that was oozing out across the head. She grazed
her fingertips along the length, down to my balls. She lightly
brushed her fingernails down along my sac, almost back to my asshole.

I very nearly lost it right then, but managed to hold on, vowing to
myself to take my revenge on her most sensitive spots. As she lightly
caressed my balls, I attacked her breast with renewed vigor,
eliciting more moans of delight from her. I started plunging first
one finger, then two, into her pussy, while occasionally dragging
them out of her hole and up to the top of her slit to her engorged
clit. I massaged her nipple in time to the ministrations against her
clit, causing her to writhe and buck in pre-orgasmic arousal. She
grabbed hold of the nearest firm object to help to ground herself in
some sort of reality as the waves of sexual pleasure coursed through
her. Unfortunately - or fortunately, if one must be honest - that
object happened to be my cock, larger and harder than it had ever
been in my life. She squeezed me as she approached her climax, which
made the blood pulse and my cock jump in her hand in time to my rapid
heartbeat. Finally, as I plunged my fingers back into her heedlessly,
she shrieked, her hips bucked up hard against my hand, and she
squeezed and pumped with her hand.

The sensations screaming in my brain were almost too much to accept.
I was in danger of blacking out as my own hips pumped, creating even
more friction on her hand as it surrounded my rampant cock. I grunted
even as she shrieked, and I climaxed. And climaxed. And climaxed some
more.

The cum pumped out of my cock, burst after burst, all over both of
us. The first couple of spurts were so strong they projected semen
onto her chin, her chest and boobs, and dribbled down onto her
rumpled, sweaty sheets. Kayla's eyes flew open when she felt the
first salvo, and she watched, wide-eyed, as I finished in her hand,
until there was no more to give.

We both collapsed onto the bed, side by side, exhausted from our
exertions. My arm was around her shoulder, and she turned and laid
her head on my chest as we both waited for our breathing to regulate.
Her fingers doodled in the mess on my stomach, rubbing the semen into
my skin as if it were lotion. I raised my hand, still moist with her
secretions, to my mouth and licked her juices off my finger. The
taste was nothing like I had ever experienced before, and I wanted
more. I scooped up some of the dripping white goo from her chin and
from her breast, then pressed my fingers to her mouth. She closed her
eyes and licked my fingers clean, then sucked each one gently. When
she did this, I felt my spent prick twitch slightly.

Very quietly, I heard her say, "I've never done anything like this
before."

"I know," I said. "Neither have I."

"Can we do it again sometime, Sean?" I heard a touch of worry in her
voice, as if I would jump up and start blabbing to the whole school
about how easy she was, or something. I kissed the top of her head
and hugged her to me, delighting in the feel of a completely naked
female body so close to mine, languid in the sensation of skin on
skin.

"Don't you worry, Kayla. You're my first, best girl, and we'll keep
it a secret, okay?"

I felt her smile against my chest, and she wrapped her arm around me
and squeezed, mashing her delightful breasts against me. As I lay
there, wondering at the odd turn that brought me to her bed, I might
have felt the saline warmth of her tears against my skin.





(Continued in Chapter 4)
<1st attachment end>


<2nd attachment, "PTG04.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, revisions c. 2007, R.C. Mather)

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

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


PLAYING THE GAME

A Novel

by R.C. Mather



- 4 -

THE TREE



The next morning, I was scheduled to referee an under-eight boy's
game. All during the preparations for the game, I kept on thinking of
my morning with Kayla. It wasn't until kickoff that I was able to
even begin to get my mind on the game. During the game, I felt a
little disconnected from things, and afterward I almost went over to
the two coaches and apologized. The game had ended in a 2-2 tie, so
both coaches and all the players were happy. I opted to leave well
enough alone, and ended up not saying anything to them.

Right after the game, I had to hustle over to the high school for
team tryouts.  I had played on the junior varsity soccer team my
freshman year, and I had dreams of moving up to play varsity.  It was
a long shot, because our head coach usually only chose one freshman
and a couple of sophomores for the varsity team, but I was determined
to give it my best shot.

It seemed like there were about a hundred guys milling about on the
practice field when I got there.  I walked over to join a group of my
fellow JV players, who were congregated near one post of the goal on
the field, waiting for tryouts to begin.

The coaches and the seniors on the varsity team divided everybody up
into groups of five.  There were circles of cones set up all around
the field, and we had to work crossing passes in a star pattern among
our circle of five.  At the same time, we were to move counter-
clockwise around the cones.  The coaches were watching to see how we
used our feet, both to move laterally and to trap and pass the ball.
It was a fairly easy exercise for my buddies and me, but there were
some kids who struggled.  I could see, out of the corner of my eye,
the coaches marking down comments on their clipboards.  I
concentrated on the ball, making sure it settled against my instep
before I passed it off.  I really wanted to make a good impression.

After that, the coaches put us through some conditioning tests,
making us run the width of the field and back while dribbling a ball.
Speed was a great advantage on the field, but speed without control
was no good.  We were being judged on our ball-handling skills as
well as our speed and conditioning.

The last test they put us through was a shooting skill drill.  Using
both goals, they lined us up about twenty meters out from the nets.
We were to make a crossing pass, leading the guy opposite us in line.
That player, in turn, was to pass it back to us as we advanced toward
the goal, using either a one-touch or a two-touch pass.  Once we
received the ball back, we were to take a shot on goal.  We then
rotated to the end of the other line, and waited our turn to go again.

I had three more days of tryouts before the first cut.  We wouldn't
find out the coaches' decisions concerning team makeup for a couple
of days after that.  By the time I was walking back to my bike after
that first day, I was feeling confident I had done the best I could.

As I was bicycling home from the tryouts, I decided to ride by Jake
and
Kayla's house to see if anybody was home. Jake was bouncing a tennis
ball against his garage door, playing an imaginary baseball game.

"Hey," I said as I rode up his driveway.

"Hey," he replied as he whipped through a double-play, shortstop to
second to first, against the garage door. "How was the soccer game?"

"Two-two tie," I said. I caught his liner off the panel of the door
and spun it back toward him off the same panel. "How's Kay feeling?"

"Leg's pretty good, I guess. Better now than when she got up this
morning. I think she's downstairs now, anyway, watching TV with
Jaimie."

He threw the ball back at the garage door for me to catch. "Want to
do something?" he asked.

"I guess," I answered. "What did you have in mind?"

"Come on, I'll show you something," he said. He reached for the
ball, and put the ball and his baseball mitt into the basket on his
bike, then climbed on. "Follow me. I found out something that I think
you'll really like."

It sounded mysterious enough that he got my interest, so we pedaled
off into the field behind his house, into the woods on the other
side. We dropped our bikes down onto the ground, and he led the way
along one of the many paths that kids of a dozen generations have
made through the small patch of woods. He branched off the path and
headed off toward the edge of the woods on the other side. Moving
slowly through the woods, he came to a tree that had slats of wood
nailed to it to make a crude ladder. Warning me to be quiet, he
climbed easily up the tree trunk, and then used branches to climb a
little further up. He motioned me up, so I clambered up until I was
on a branch opposite the trunk from the one he was perched upon. He
pointed in the direction of a house about thirty yards away, and
leaned toward me around the trunk of the tree.

"What do you see?" he whispered.

I looked, trying to figure out what it was he was showing me, but I
was stumped.

"Ummm... a house?" I asked.

"Yeah, idiot, a house. Whose house?"

"The O'Toole house," I said. 'Why is he asking me whose house this
is? He knows as well as I do whose house it was.'

He looked at me as if I was the village dunce. "And who lives in the
O'Toole house?" he asked, speaking slowly as if to a very dim child.

"Josh lives there," I said. Josh was another of our neighborhood
gang, a good guy we both had been friends with since about the second
grade.

"And?" Now Jake was getting just plain annoying.

"And..." The light bulb went on, and I felt just as dumb as Jake was
thinking I was just then. "And Heather and Molly," we said together.

Of course. Heather and Molly were Josh's sisters. Heather was going
to be a senior, seventeen years old and drop-dead gorgeous. She was a
cheerleader, and one of the most popular girls at school. Molly,
Josh's twin sister, was fifteen, just like us, and was a slightly
younger version of Heather. I figured that Josh had to have been
walking around his house with a perpetual boner for about the past
three years, living with those two. He claimed, however, that they
were just sisters to him, just as annoying as typical sisters were.

"So what are we looking at here?" I said to Jake.

"You see the window on the far left? That's Heather's room. The
window on the right is Molly's. That window in between, the one you
can see the mirror in, that's the bathroom they share."

"Yeah?" I said to him. "So what? The bedroom curtains are closed.
How do you know?"

"Josh and I peeked into their rooms a couple of weeks ago," he said.
"And just because the curtains are closed now doesn't mean they are
always closed. Understand?"

I stared at him disbelievingly.

"It gets better," he whispered. "They never close the curtains in
the bathroom. And the mirror you see just happens to be positioned
advantageously in respect to the very branches in which we are
perched," he finished with a smug little smile.

"Jake old pal," I said, "you are my new best friend."

"I thought I was your best friend already," he said.

"Well, you were, but you've just confirmed my good taste in best
friends," I replied.

We made plans to meet later that night to check out the windows, and
headed back to Jake's house. As we were riding back across the field
from the woods, I couldn't help but notice (now that Jake had got me
to thinking about windows and curtains) that Jaimie and Tara's
bedrooms were at the back of their house, and they lived in a ranch
house, so their windows were all on the ground floor.

The possibilities were staggering to a typical fifteen-year-old
hormonally charged boy such as me.

Sometime after nine that night, Jake and I made our way back through
the woods to the tree behind the O'Toole house. As quietly as we
could, we climbed up the slats to the branches we had perched in that
afternoon.

"Damn!" I heard Jake softly swear. "I meant to bring a pair of
binoculars."

"That's okay, we're close enough for now," I said. I had to admit,
though, binoculars would have been a great idea.

The mosquitoes were out in abundance, and Jake and I were getting
bitten up sitting in the tree. There still was no activity in the
windows we were watching. After about an hour, we both had had enough
of branch sitting, and mosquito swatting, and dark house watching, so
we gave it up and climbed back down. On the way back out of the
woods, it occurred to us that maybe we should have called Josh to
make sure they were home.

"Oh, well, so I'll call him tomorrow," said Jake.

We walked back across the field, and I glanced at Jaimie's house.

"Look!" I stopped Jake and pointed. Tara's curtain was drawn across
the window, but there was a gap in Jaimie's. We quietly crept up
closer to try to see into her room.

Jackpot! Jaimie was there, sitting on her bed, brushing her hair. We
could hear the faint sound of a record playing, and she was nodding
her head in time to the music. She was wearing only a bra and
panties, and her boobs stretched taut as she raised her arms to brush
her hair.

"Oh, man, sweet!" Jake exclaimed. "Boy, would I like to get some of
that."

"Why not ask her out, then?" I asked.

"I don't know," he whispered. "Maybe she's just too tight with my
sister. I can't think that anything good could come of that."

"Aw, your sister's okay," I said.

"Easy for you to say, she's not your sister," he replied. I heard
him sigh as he finally admitted, "I guess she's not so bad, but she's
still a sister, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess," I said. Actually, I didn't know, since I only had
brothers, but it was easier to just agree with him.

We watched as Jaimie got up and put on a robe, then left her room.
When she came back in a few minutes later and hung up her robe, we
could see she had changed into her nightie. She pulled back the
bedspread and got in her bed, then turned out her light.

"Show's over," Jake said, and we started back toward his house.

"Hey, Jake, you want me to see if I can talk to Jaimie? Maybe I can
see if she likes you, and then maybe you can get together with her."

"That's okay," he said. "I'll think about it. I don't know. Christ,
why is this all so difficult? Oh, well, see you tomorrow." He headed
into his house, head hanging down.

'Yeah, Jake,' I thought to myself, 'sometimes we really make it tough
on ourselves.'




(Continued in Chapter 5)
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