Message-ID: <33479asstr$1005858603@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" X-Original-Message-ID: <5mk7vtsphaioq0eujb1q443vrtq4gpqtu3@4ax.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 15 Nov 2001 14:42:38 GMT X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: Thu, 15 Nov 2001 14:42:38 GMT Subject: {ASSM} rp Hard Promise, Ch. 1-3/14 (mf rom) by Rev. Cotton Mather Date: Thu, 15 Nov 2001 16:10:03 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: newsman, kelly ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Welcome to the Church of The Right Reverend Cotton Mather. This story is the sole property of the author, and may not be copied or downloaded for the intent of profit. Permission is freely given for anyone to download or copy for their personal pleasure or use, as long as there is no intent to charge money or barter for the privilege of acquiring this material. (Copyright 2001, Rev. Cotton Mather) ------------------------------------------------------------------------ HARD PROMISE Rev. Cotton Mather - 1 - It seemed like such a good idea at the time. Our anniversary was coming up in a few weeks, and I had found a great deal on a vacation to Bermuda that I knew my wife would really love. You see, six years ago, for her high school graduation, her parents gave her a trip to Bermuda. She traveled with three of herhigh-school buddies, and it was one of the highlights of her life, she says. Now, for our second anniversary, I was going to surprise her with another trip to her dream destination, a place she calls the most romantic place on earth. It's a lot easier, according to some of our friends who have already started having their children, to just pick up and go when you aren't tied down with familial obligations. I guess that's true, because the deals I see for people who can travel on short notice to vacation spots are very good, indeed. And this deal was better than even those, provided we leave in two days. Naturally, I couldn't reach her by telephone, so I left work early to try to catch her before she got too busy. She usually got home from work around 4:00, relaxed for awhile until she knew that I would be on my way home, then start to make dinner for the two of us. We would eat around 6:00, and she would run out the door right after dinner, leaving me to clean up the dishes. She's studying at night to be a chef, so our dinners tended to be on the elaborate side. My wife loves to cook, and she considers it her sacred duty to make sure that everything she prepares is done just right. The result? I've gained 10 pounds since our marriage. My work is sedentary, shuffling paper at a big insurance company, and I try to exercise when I can, but my battle of the bulge is a difficult one. I still tend to eat like I'm still playing football, as I did in high school, and our large dinners and changed lifestyle have conspired to change my profile. I do try to work it off a few times a week doing horizontal aerobic exercises, if you know what I mean, and my little sweetheart is always very cooperative, and even enthusiastic. And I'll tell you, her efforts in the sack must give her an even greater workout, since she's exactly the same size now that she was when she was leading the cheers for good old North High. It was her cheerleading, actually, that first made me notice her. I loved seeing her in those tight letter sweaters and short skirts, shaking and jumping all over the football field. I was a junior playing on the football team, and I loved watching all the cheerleaders. I had a lot of trouble concentrating on the game when I got to watching their backsides on the sidelines. Every time one of them would jump up in the air, I would catch a glimpse of white ruffled panties. Drove me crazy, they did. Of course, all the cheerleaders were gorgeous and athletic, and a common conversation among my fellow players when we were at practice or on the bench during a game was to rank the cheerleaders (and all other good-looking girls at school, of course) in the order in which we would like to bop them. All during the season we would revise our lists, taking into account changing tastes, how a particular girl dressed on that particular day, or whatever rumor about a girl's reputation might be running through the school. We based our rankings on such things as "boob-alicious-ness", how a girl used a straw or ate a banana, how easy we thought she might be, if we thought a girl might be a screamer or a moaner, her reputation in the school at large as well as in the locker room, or any of a dozen other crude evaluation criteria. Over the course of the football season my list changed according to my mood: sometimes it was Lisa, a varsity cheerleader who was a junior and arguably the hottest girl in the school, who was at the top of my list; sometimes it was Micki, a petite freshman with big, pouting lips who, it was rumored, was trying to earn her way onto the varsity cheerleading squad by bedding any member of any varsity sports team in school; sometimes it was Nicole, a senior who was on the yearbook staff and had been a member of the student council since her freshman year who, according to my buddies in the locker room, gave her dates exquisite hand jobs on the third date - and no more, ever; but always, among the top 3 on my list, was Melissa, a sophomore cheerleader. No "bad girl" rumors ever surrounded her, no innuendoes about her sexual prowess (or lack thereof), nothing but a general admiration for her All-American good looks and her quiet pursuit of excellence in all she attempted. So there we all were, week after week, struggling through a mediocre season on the football field, celebrating wins and consoling ourselves on our losses in the same manner by converging as a group at Fabrice's, a local pizza parlor that catered to the high school crowd. So there is where we all went after the game. We would all be hanging out at the local pizza joint, the team and its hangers-on around one group of tables, the cheerleading squads around another, and a whole bunch of other students who had gone to the game all around us. And there Melissa would be, sitting with her friends, always nearby, always out of reach. She had to have known that I was attracted to her. All my friends on the team knew she was always high up on my list, and they would certainly never let a teasing opportunity go by without taking as much advantage as I would let them take. And she would always play it coy with me. Looking at our table out of the corner of her baby-blue eyes, swishing her long blonde hair off her shoulder, crossing and uncrossing her long legs, leaning back and laughing at some clever thing one of her girlfriends said and pressing her sweater tight against her boobs, all the time knowing that my friends and I were over there drooling over the vision of all that lovely cheerleader poontang sitting there, not being used properly (in our sophisticated opinions anyway), and hoping that, eventually, Fortune would smile down on us and grant us a precious evening alone with the girl of our choice. Okay, I admit it, we were young and foolish. And stupid. But Fortune did indeed smile upon me one glorious fall evening that year. HARD PROMISE Rev. Cotton Mather - 2 - The night before our homecoming football game, the school sponsored a big bonfire out on the baseball field, and most of the kids from the high school were there. The mood was effervescent, and my buddies and I contributed to the manic energy by throwing huge logs into the fire, laughing and showing off. Later, off in one of the dimmer areas away from the giant fire, a bunch of seniors from the football team were passing around a lot of cheap wine in grape drink bottles, and most of the team was gathered around. Since the quarterback, a senior, was hot and heavy with the head cheerleader, a lot of her friends were there also, including Melissa. Mutual attraction exerted its gravitational pull on both of us, and pretty soon we were standing side by side, shivering and stamping our feet at the cold, taking sips and gulps from the bottles as they were passed around, joking and chatting with each other and with those around us. By the time the wine had been by us four or five times, couples had started pairing off into more private conversations. I had my arm around Melissa's shoulder, ostensibly to provide a little warmth, and our conversation got quieter and softer and more exclusive with the mood around us. We were still just talking about easy stuff, about teachers and coaches, dissing our friends, that kind of thing, but there was an undertone we were both aware of, even if we weren't actually acknowledging it. By evening's end we were holding hands and laughing comfortably with each other like we had been doing this for months. Later that night, back at Fabrice's after the bonfire, our two groups had merged, and we were all sitting at a bunch of tables moved together, still paired up and talking now as couples instead of groups separated by gender. Brad, my best friend since 6th grade, gave me a thumbs-up when no one else was looking. The next day was Homecoming. The cheerleaders were all marching together in the parade, and the football team pretty much stayed together and soaked up the cheers and good wishes from the town. It's a great feeling to know that you are a part of all that good karma, and my buddies and I really hammed it up. At the game we all wanted to give back to the town and the school a team "thank-you" for their enthusiasm, so we really played tough, and everyone on the team concentrated on the game, so there wasn't the usual goofing off on the bench that day. I did manage to glance over at the cheerleading squad when I was not involved on the field, and a couple of times I saw Missy watching me. It kind of gave me the chills to think that she might like me as much as I liked her. But the important thing at the time was that we played well, and we won the game. A week later a bunch of us met at the local movie theater and paired off again. I don't for the life of me remember what the movie was because I was so nervous. By the time the opening credits had finished, Missy and I were holding hands and paying more attention to each other's body language than to the movie playing on the screen. By the end of the second reel, our knees were touching, and I had my arm draped around her shoulder. She leaned in closer to me, and stayed that way until the end of the film. We were still feeling a little tentative, however, which made us sit up a little straighter than we would have otherwise. My arm started to tingle and fall asleep. but I was not going to remove it, no matter how uncomfortable I got. At the end of the movie, just before the house lights came up, I painfully lifted my arm off her shoulder and started rubbing it, trying to get some feeling back into it. Missy glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, and started giggling. My first thought was What the heck is she laughing at?, but I couldn't hold that thought for more than a moment before I started chuckling, too. It was kind of funny, I thought, to think that through most of a two-hour movie I had no feeling at all in my arm, this arm that was closest to this girl I was beginning to really like a lot. We walked out of the movie holding hands, bundled up against the cold, and joined our friends as we all piled into cars to go back to the pizza joint. Missy and I jumped into my friend Brad's car with about 6 other kids, and she sat on my lap the whole way. I was not comfortable at all, seeing as how I had about 110 pounds of cheerleader sitting almost directly on a part of me that was getting distressingly larger and stiffer by the second, but I wouldn't have traded the moment for anything. Missy, meanwhile, kept on wriggling around, trying to make room for the other kids also wedged into the car, and incidentally increasing my discomfort. She made no indication at all that she felt me rising beneath her, other than glancing over her shoulder at me occasionally and smiling, but she certainly had to have noticed it. By the time we got to the pizza parlor, I was in no small amount of pain, and had difficulty straightening up once we got out of the car. Fortunately, my coat was sufficiently long to hide my erection, which managed to spring up once Missy got off my lap. Standing by the car, she asked if I was all right, all the time trying to hide a rather large grin behind her solicitude. By the time I managed to stand up straight she was already tugging me into the restaurant, laughing and joking with everyone. I imagine that nearly everybody remembers their first really good kiss. My first really memorable kiss was with Missy later that night on the ride home. Sure, I had been out with other girls before, and had played suckface and grab-ass with a couple of them, but even at the time I knew that they really didn't mean anything much to me. But that night, back in Brad's car, it was just the four of us left. Brad and his girlfriend Lindsey, me and Melissa. Brad and Lindsey had definite plans for later, I was sure, and they were gracious in agreeing to drop us off. On the way to Missy's house, the radio was playing softly, and it was lightly snowing, making it seem like we were the only people left in the world. Even with a center console on his car, Lindsey was leaning on Brad's shoulder as he drove, and Missy and I had our arms wrapped around each other in the back seat. At least part of the reason we were so close was because of the cold, but we both knew, also, that this night held something special for us as a couple, that it kind of marked the beginning of our relationship. As we turned down Missy's street she turned to me, and her eyes were soft and blue and wistful and irresistible. I leaned over her, closed my eyes, and we softly kissed. And held that kiss for what seemed like a year. Her lips were moving slightly against mine, parted just a little, and her lipstick tasted of strawberries. After we broke the kiss we gazed at each other, both slightly breathless, both with nothing and everything to say, all of it left unsaid. We came together again for another kiss, but this one had the strength of a hunger behind it, and our embrace was tighter and more demanding. She opened her mouth slightly and touched my lips with her tongue, causing my internal temperature to flare. I reached out just a little with my tongue, touching tips with hers, and fireworks seemed to go off in my head. As Brad pulled into her driveway we pulled reluctantly apart, breathing hard. Missy's face was flushed, and she took a deep breath, and said, "Wow." It's a moment that will live within me forever. By the time I came out of my trance Brad was in front of my house and anxious for me to get the hell out of his way so he and Lindsey could head out to their favorite parking spot, so I said my good-byes and headed into the house and up to my room. I was tempted to call Melissa right away to try to make the magic of the night last a little longer, but decided that I had better not call her house so late and incur the wrath of her parents. After all, they were going to get to know me very well quite soon, I was sure, as Melissa and I became closer. It was a very long time before I was able to go to sleep that night. HARD PROMISE Rev. Cotton Mather - 3 - And so it began. We started hanging out after our respective practices ended, talking for as long as we could. Missy's mother would always pick her up from cheerleading practice, and Brad was just as happy to stick around and wait for me since that gave him and Lindsey more time together, too. Missy told her mom that practice was being extended by twenty minutes, a little white lie to buy a little extra time for us. When she saw her mother's car pull into the school lot she would jump up, give me a quick wave and a smile, and run down the drive so her mother wouldn't see she was sitting around talking to a boy. The good news about this routine is I really loved watching her run down the drive. The bad news is that all the other football players who were still around also were watching her appreciatively, which I didn't particularly care for. Even Brad, as seriously in lust as he was with Lindsey, took a moment out of whispering in her ear to watch Missy run, for which he earned a killer look from Lindsey along with a slug to his arm that I'm sure stung for quite awhile. And, to top it all off, I had a feeling that Melissa's name was going to be added to a few more lists the next time we got around to revising them. Missy's parents were very conservative and wouldn't allow her to go out on a date. Group activities were all right, however, so the next Friday we arranged to meet, as usual, at Fabrice's after the football game. Brad and I had concocted a scheme to take off right away from the pizza parlor and head out to one of the public beaches with the girls. We made sure we had some beer, some wine, and lots of blankets in the car. Missy was nervous about leaving her friends at Fabrice's, but I think she was as anxious as I was about having a little time alone together, and that sentiment prevailed. It was a clear, cold night. We brought along a large pizza and ate it in the car at the beach, popping open the beer and wine at the same time. The windows of the car were steaming up from the pizza and the combined exhalations of the four of us, and we were all as happy as it was possible to be at that age. When the pizza was gone we all jumped out of the car, each with a blanket or two, and we ran down toward the waterline. There were fire pits built into the ground and we found enough sticks and wood to build a small fire. The four of us dropped our blankets and ran down to the lake, where Brad and I tried to teach Lindsey and Missy how to skip stones on the water. Their efforts were pitiful, and we all ended up falling on the frozen sand, laughing until our sides ached. As we were lying there catching our breath, Missy just naturally rolled against me, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. We all got up and headed back to our meager fire. It had burned down to mere embers, giving us a point of reference, instead of heat or light. Brad and Lindsey wrapped themselves under two blankets on one side of the pit, and Missy and I spread one blanket on the ground and pulled two others over us, covering ourselves from our feet up over our heads. Within this dark cocoon we were insulated from the cold and from the rest of the world. As we lay there we were facing each other. I had one arm around her neck, hand resting on her shoulder. I unzipped her heavy coat and slipped my other hand under her coat across her waist. Gazing into my eyes, she slowly unzipped my coat and threaded her arms inside and around me, then lifted up her face to me. She closed her eyes, and without saying a word, kissed me tenderly on the lips. Her lips were soft and creamy and again tasted faintly of strawberries. We separated momentarily, remembering to breathe once again, then slipped into another kiss. Her arms clenched, and heat suddenly poured into the kiss as I felt her mouth open against mine and the tips of our tongues met for only the second time. I felt more than heard her moan softly, and I heard myself growl as sensations I had scarcely imagined began coursing through my body. I couldn't seem to get her close enough to me as my arms tightened. I felt her leg reach around mine as if she, too, was trying to remove some distance between us. By this time our tongues were wrestling with each other, first within her mouth, and then inside mine. We were both breathing heavily, sharing the close air underneath the blankets, and the air temperature around us moderated with our exhalations and the release of our body heat. My hand, already warmed, found its way under her sweater to the soft skin beneath, and I pressed my palm against the small of her back, luxuriating in the softness of her skin overlaying the hard muscles just under the surface. In response, I felt one of her hands snake under my sweatshirt and T-shirt, caressing up and down my back and side. I ran my hand up the smooth length of her back until I felt the tight band of her bra, and slipped under the strap between her shoulder blades, and pressed her even more tightly to me. I twisted, turning her under me so that she was on her back and I was over her, still engaged in our kiss. My hand slipped back down her back, then across her waist to her stomach, still under her sweater. She broke the kiss, and I bent to kiss and suck on her neck and earlobe, creating a purring sound from deep within her. She stretched her neck up, giving me more to caress with my lips, and she brought one hand up to the back of my head, fingers running through my hair as she pressed me closer to her sensitive throat. Her leg was still running up and down mine, her knee creating contact from my upper thigh to nearly my shin. Her breathing was ragged as she pulled my face up to indulge in another open-mouthed kiss. I thrust my tongue deeply into her mouth, and felt her lips and teeth nibble along its length. At the same time she sucked in, drawing breath from my lungs into hers. My hand slipped up to her small breast, and I could feel her nipple poking into my palm through her bra. As I gently squeezed, her breath caught, and she pushed my tongue out of her mouth with hers and roughly entwined it with hers. I broke the kiss and we both gasped for breath. She pushed her chest up, pressing her breast into my hand as her mouth opened in a silent scream. I bent to taste the skin at her throat again as I slipped my hand beneath the elastic edge of her bra and cupped her soft breast. She moaned and ran her own hand down from my back to grab my ass and pull me against her, her hips bumping against my erection almost of their own accord. I moved my hand across her chest, pushing her bra up over her small breasts, and caressed her other nipple and breast. I reveled in the shape and texture of her flesh, marveling in the sensation of finally, actually touching sensitive female parts for the first time in my life. I slid down from her throat and licked and kissed around the circumference of her breast, massaging the other one at the same time. I took her engorged nipple into my mouth and sucked on it, causing her to groan and hold my head close to her. I opened my mouth wide and tried to suck in as much of her breast as I could, until I felt her nipple against the back of my tongue. I then licked my way over to her other breast and tasted it the same way. She was moaning the entire time, and was slowly shaking her head back and forth, lost in the feelings being transmitted from her aroused body. Emboldened, I slipped my hand back down her as I was feasting on her breast until I reached her waist and the waistband of her tight jeans. As my fingers tried to wiggle under the denim, she stiffened slightly and, grabbing my wrist, said softly, "No, Ray. Please don't." I acquiesced and brought my hand back up to play once more with her turgid nipple. I scootched back up and kissed her eyelids, her cheekbones, her earlobes, and finally planted soft kisses on her lips. As our lips touched, she once again opened her mouth and stretched her tongue in search of mine. I squeezed first one breast, then the other, as our tongues battled, alternately pinching and caressing each distended nipple in turn. Finally, almost as an antidote to the intense heat we were generating for each other, our mouths slid apart, leaving trails of moisture along each other's cheeks, and our arms and hands left their caresses and moved to each other's back, each of us pulling the other into a fierce hug. "Oh, Ray," she whispered in my ear, "I'm afraid." Surprised, I arched back and looked into her eyes. They were soft and doelike in the darkness of our hideaway. "Why are you afraid?" I asked her. She pressed herself back against me, hugging me, and didn't answer for what seemed like a long time. "I'm afraid of my feelings for you," she said so softly I almost couldn't hear. I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't say anything. I did kiss her again, though, and it must have been the right answer, because she kissed me back, hard. Just at that moment we both heard a keening wail that started low and quiet, and built up into a very loud, ululating cry. It seemed to come from just on the other side of our fire pit. It caused us to sit up in alarm and look over at the pile of blankets just beyond the embers. All we could see was the pile jerking up and down, and then stopping as the cry faded into the night. When we realized that the sound was coming from Lindsey's throat, we looked at each other and began to giggle and extricate ourselves from our own twisted covers. When the blankets fell off us, the cold air hit us hard enough to take our breath away as we struggled to rearrange our clothes and zip up our coats. As we were getting up and folding our blankets, Brad and Lindsey emerged from their shelter, clothing completely disheveled. They saw us and stopped, apparently having forgotten that we had come with them, then looked at each other sheepishly. They stood up, blankets around them, and hustled off toward the woods, away from the dim firelight, to put their clothes back on. They walked back toward us in a few minutes, arm in arm, and we all started laughing again as we packed up our gear into Brad's car. As we climbed into the car, Brad started it up. We were waiting for the car's interior to warm up, cuddled together two by two, when Brad said, "Sorry about that, guys. We didn't realize we were making so much noise." This caused us to break up laughing again at the ridiculousness of the situation, four voices raucous in the enjoyment of their youth. "Just drive, Bucko", said Lindsey, giggling. All the way back to Missy's house we were holding tightly onto each other, alternately kissing with a renewed passion and gazing wordlessly into each other's eyes, until all too soon we were pulling into her driveway. Almost immediately her porch light came on, so she reluctantly let go of me and slid over to the door. She leaned back over and gave me one last scorching kiss, then opened the door, and with a soft "Good night", left me cooling and suddenly lonely in the back seat. I stared into nothingness, thinking about Missy and the evening until Brad dropped me off at my house. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+