Message-ID: <34368asstr$1009728605@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" X-Original-Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 30 Dec 2001 05:07:03 GMT X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: Sun, 30 Dec 2001 05:07:03 GMT Subject: {ASSM} Playing the Game 30/30 (The Final Chapter of Book One)(mf rom) Date: Sun, 30 Dec 2001 11:10:05 -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: dennyw, RuiJorge Here it is, at long last: 30 days of "Playing the Game", all December long. I hope you have enjoyed the tale. I will be back some day with the continuation of the story of Sean Porter the Soccer Kid. In the meantime, I made this chapter extra long to help tide you over. Thanks for listening to an old Reverend ramble on. --------------------------------------------------------------------- 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 2001, Rev. Cotton Mather) E-Mail all comments to RevCottonMather@excite.com Don't be shy! I enjoy hearing from you. --------------------------------------------------------------------- PLAYING THE GAME by Reverend Cotton Mather - 30 - TRUST BETRAYED Tryouts for the girl's varsity and junior-varsity soccer teams were held at the beginning of March. Jen, Ashley and Molly ended up on the JV team, while Kristina and Tessa both made the varsity team. Practice was every day after school, starting about the second week of March. The girls were doing a lot of running laps, out on the track when the weather cooperated, and in the gymnasium when it didn't. The girls did a lot of good-natured complaining about it, but they knew the benefits of all that boring running of laps would pay off once the season began. Because of her practice schedule, I couldn't see or call Kristina much during the week. Her parents were very strict anyway, and with so much of her free time taken up with soccer, she only had time for homework after dinner. No time for poor Sean. I had a plan, though. My sixteenth birthday was coming up the first week of April, and so was Toby's. We came up with the idea that we should have a combined birthday party to celebrate. My parents offered to host the party, so all our friends were invited over to my house on the first Saturday of April. Toby and I asked Ashley and Kristina if they could come over early in the afternoon to hang out with us while we got the basement ready for the party, which they did. Toby and Ashley had become something of an item, ever since the turnabout dance in February, when they discovered a remarkable compatibility together that began on the dance floor, and expanded from there. I was really happy about it for Toby's sake, because it meant that he was finally getting over his serious crush on Jen Davies, who still was madly in love with Sam. Ashley was a better fit for him anyway, I thought, since she didn't tower over him by a foot like Jen did. The four of us had a great afternoon getting set for the party, watching TV, and gossiping about our friends. Most of our friends were at the party. The music was loud, there were some quieter and darker corners for the couples (though my parents made sure they patrolled those areas frequently), drinks were spilled, chips and dips were consumed in huge quantities, and everybody seemed to be having a very good time. At one point, during the height of the party, Eric came over to me. "How's it going, Sean? Another year older, huh?" he said. "Yeah, the time's really flying now," I replied. One day you're a fifteen year old punk, and the next thing you know you've got your driver's license, and you've got a bunch more new friends needing rides." "Don't I know it. I got my license and all of a sudden I had to start driving my younger brother and sister around all the time. Got old pretty quick," he complained. I could sympathize. My brother Michael was more than happy to see me get my license, since that meant that I could drive our younger brother Stephen around now, instead of him having to cart the both of us. "Hey, have you heard the rumors going around about your old girlfriend?" he asked. I shook my head. This oughta be good, I thought to myself. "You know she broke up with Scotty, right?" he asked. I hadn't known, but then I wasn't paying a lot of attention to what Molly was up to lately, either. "Well, Scott's been spreading some dirt about her. About how she was putting out for him so easy at first, but then shut him out after awhile. Calling her an ice bitch, things like that." "You're kidding." "Nope. Ask Keisha. She's really been getting the down-and-dirty from the rumor-mills in the girls' johns at school. Anyway, the story that Keisha picked up is that Molly was two-timing Scotty with Trent, then dropped them both and jumped on Mikey Evanson for a poke." "You have got to be shitting me, Eric. Molly is doing this? What the hell is wrong with her?" Jake walked up, just in time to hear my question. "You guys talking about Molly 'I'll Do Anything For a Long Hard One' O'Toole? Yeah, I heard, too," he said. "I don't believe it," I said, shaking my head at the news. "What the hell is she trying to prove?" "I don't know, but her brother better not find out about it," said Jake, glancing over in Josh's direction. "On a happier note, man, it looks like you and Kristina have got things going," said Eric. "You're a lucky dude. She's one of a kind." "Yeah, well, my track record for keeping women happy is a pretty dismal 0-1 so far," I said. "I'm trying, but who knows how successful I'll be." "You know the secret to keeping a woman happy, don't you?" asked Eric. Jake and I looked at each other questioningly, then both said no. "Just repeat after me: 'Yes, dear, Of course it was my fault, Anything you want, my little love-muffin' and everything will be hunky-dory," he said. We all laughed. "Lessons in life we could all learn from," said Jake. As a birthday party treat, my parents agreed to let me drive Josh and Andrea and Kristina home after the party. I was using my mom's old car, a '75 Buick Century with a split bench seat in the front. Josh and Andrea got into the back, and Kristina slid over next to me as I started up the old beast. We were barely out of the driveway when I heard giggling and kissing noises coming from the back. Kristina looked at me and smiled, taking my arm and holding it as I tooled down the street. In almost no time at all, I was pulling into Andrea's driveway. I stopped the car, throwing it into park while we waited for them to disentangle from each other and walk up to her front door. While Josh was kissing her and saying goodnight, I slipped my arm around Kristina's shoulder. She tilted her head up, and I bent down and kissed her tenderly and softly, just the way I knew she liked to be kissed. The back door opened and Josh climbed back in. "All right, you guys, that's enough," he complained goodnaturedly. "Can't you see I'm lonely back here? It's bad enough I don't have my girlfriend here, I have to watch you two and your disgusting public display of affection?" I took my arm back from around Kristina's shoulder and put the car in reverse. As I was looking through the back window, backing out of the driveway, I glanced at Josh. "It's not exactly a public place here, I don't think. But we'll stop anyway, because we are sensitive to your loneliness," I said. "Thank you very much," he shot back. "thank you from the bottom of my bottom." "Josh! That's gross!" Kristina complained, but I could see she was smiling as she said it. I drove through the side streets to Josh's house and dropped him off. I was reluctant to drive straight to Kristina's house, wanting to spend as many minutes with her as I could, so I turned in the opposite direction, intending to just drive around for a few minutes with her by my side. "Good, I don't want to go home just yet," she whispered when she saw that I had turned in a different direction. We drove slowly down the street. "Stop over there," she said, pointing to a dark area in the middle of the next block. I pulled over to the curb, in front of a new house under construction. There were no lights around us as we came to a stop under a tree, the street lights on the corner too far away to afford much light here in the middle of the block. It was chilly out, so I left the car running with the lights off. I turned to her and put my arm around her once more. She turned into me, slipping her arm around my back as she tilted her face up, inviting me to kiss her. I bent down and pressed my lips to hers in a soft, warm and tender kiss. I planted lots of little kisses on her lips, the corners of her mouth, her cheeks, and her chin, receiving lots in return. I didn't want to rush her in any way, so I contented myself to nibbling and kissing her softly. Finally, her lips found their way to mine, and I could feel her trembling as her mouth opened just slightly and the tip of her tongue just touched my mouth. My lips parted, and my tongue slipped out to meet hers, tip to tip, before retreating and breaking the kiss. I nuzzled her throat, feeling the heat radiating from her skin just below her ear, and returned for another kiss. Her lips and tongue were bolder now, being guided in their explorations by her rising temperature, until, after several brief darting jabs at each other, our mouths finally opened and our lips sealed onto each other as our tongues intertwined in our first truly hot, wet, demanding kiss. She moaned into my mouth and twisted her body so she could hold me tighter against her. My hand snaked around her waist to hold her tightly to me. My knee was pressed against hers, our torsos twisted around as I struggled to get even closer to her around the steering column of the car. She reached up and threw her arm around my neck as we kissed, and I could feel her sweater inch up from her jeans, so that two of my fingers were resting against the hot skin of her lower back. Just that small touch of her soft skin lit the afterburners in my body, and my blood raced through me, making me feel flushed and swollen. My fingers slipped under her sweater, still at her waist, and rested there, reveling in the feel of her incredibly smooth skin. My hand warmed from the touch, my fingers tingling, as I pressed my palm hard against her back. She moaned again, and pulled me even harder to her. I took that as a good sign. My hand on her waist, almost on its own, began to slide up her side under the sweater, tracing the hidden musculature just under the soft layer of skin. My fingers felt the rough cotton and elastic of her bra, and quite naturally followed its path under her arm to cup her small, round covered breast under the sweater. She was making lots of small sounds into my mouth now, and she twisted just slightly, giving my hand a little more room to caress her. I gently squeezed the soft mound, feeling her true shape for the first time, and wondering all over again at the miracle of the female form. My hand followed her bra back around under her arm again, intent on finding the key to releasing the treasure. Without seeming to move, her body language spoke of disappointment that I had abandoned her boob, but I had better plans in mind for both of us. I fumbled at her back, fingers searching for the complicated hooks and eyes I had encountered a few times before, and found none. I think I might have panicked as my hand scrambled around, scratching and searching for the secret to her confining bra. She stopped kissing me for a moment and giggled slightly as she reached under her sweater in front of her. The tight strap mysteriously came loose on her. As she reached back up to pull me down to resume our kissing, she whispered, "It attaches in front." She opened her mouth against me again, her tongue intruding and exploring the recesses of my teeth and gums, as she twisted just a little away from me in my arms, giving my hand a hint as to where she wanted it to go. I obliged by slipping under the now loose bra, back to her front, to gently grasp the bare skin of her pliant breast. I pressed my palm against her, feeling her nipple expand against it, and then lightly pinched the swollen nub to stimulate it even more. I hefted the small weight of her boob, held the whole thing in the palm of my hand, felt the heat emanating from her. We stayed like that for a time, kissing each other while she held the back of my head and I held her breast like a precious work of art, until the headlights of a car turning down the street from the corner interrupted our reverie. We both glanced at the clock on the dashboard. "I've got to get home," she said regretfully. "Jorge is probably already there, and my parents will be worried that I didn't come home with him." I reluctantly let go of her, and she reached under her sweater and put her clothes back into place, lifting up on the seat to pull her sweater back down. I watched her sadly, wishing fervently we could have continued, but I had made a promise to myself that she would guide me. I would only go as far as she was unhesitatingly willing to go, and would not push her to go beyond. I could see now, though, that it would not be an easy promise to keep. Two minutes later, I was walking her to her door. The porch light went on just as soon as we stepped to the door. She reached up and kissed me lightly on my cheek just before the front door opened, and she stepped inside. "Thank you, Sean," she said. "Good night." It was a long time before I finally fell asleep. That night I dreamed of a raven-haired beauty, dressed all in black, dancing a samba just for me. Just as soccer practice had started for the school teams, the recreational teams for all ages were starting to gear up. I got a call from Davey and Kip's coach, Bill Pinella, asking if I would be his assistant coach for the spring session. To help seal the deal, he had asked Lori Wilkinson to call me, too. She told me that the boys were clamoring to see me again. "It seems to them like it's been years since they saw you," she said. "Well, it's been since the fall sometime," I recalled. "So, will you do it? Will you help out Bill with his team?" "Sure, Lori, I'll be glad to," I said. Bill and I met a couple of times at his house to go over some drills he had in mind for the team. He was going to be out of town for a couple of games, and he insisted on letting me make up my own lineups for those games. The first couple of practices we held were just information gathering exercises for us, watching the boys kick the ball around, timing them as they ran up and down the field, and asking each one which position he liked to play best and why. They still had plenty of soccer left to play before they got locked into a specific position, or even being labeled defense or offense, so we didn't take anything they said too seriously, knowing full well how changeable kids that age could be. After the second practice, I recruited Jorge to come along to some of our practices. We had a core of three boys who were most interested in playing keeper, so Jorge took those three aside for about 30 minutes each time and worked with them on punting, blocking, and moving their defensive players around the field. The three keepers got more and more enthusiastic about trying out their new knowledge in a game, so we dedicated the last half of each practice to scrimmaging, dividing the team in half and playing either a half- field game or a full-field scrimmage. Sometimes we drew lanes on the field with flour, making them stay within their lanes. Some days the lanes had about 10 feet of space between them, sometimes we drew them so they overlapped, but the rule always was don't step out of the lane. We knew that when it came to game time, they would follow the ball anyway, but we were trying to convince them that if they played positions, they would be able to move the ball better. Some days it worked, some days it didn't. Lori came down whenever she could to watch at least the last half of practice. She asked if I could work with the boys again on the side, and I was looking forward to helping them out again. She also mentioned that Molly was still babysitting for her occasionally, but she had noticed that she was pretty unhappy lately, and asked if I knew anything about it. "Nope, I don't," I said. "Molly and I haven't really spoken much since around November." "I'm sorry to hear that, Sean," she said. "I thought you two made a really cute couple together." "Well, at the time I thought so, too, but what can you do," I replied. She could tell I really didn't care to talk much about it, so she dropped the subject. A couple of weeks after my birthday, I borrowed my mom's car and picked up Kristina for our Saturday date. It had been a warm and sunny day, the first real promise of the summer to come. We decided to forego the movie we were going to see, and instead drove to Silver Lake, a town close to us that had built up around its namesake body of water. There was a public promenade all around the lake, with park benches and gazebos and a band shell, so we parked the car at dusk and just started meandering around the lake, pausing and sitting when we felt like it, walking and holding hands when we got tired of sitting. It took us a couple of hours to make our way all the way around the lake, and we were kind of chilled by the time we got back to the car. Ours was the only car left in the lot as I started it up and threw the fan and heater on high. "Ohhh, I'm so cold," she complained as she scooted over to nestle up against me. I put my arm around her and pulled her tighter to me. "Snuggle up here, I'll warm you up," I said as I wrapped my arms around her. She twisted around to press more of herself up against me, trying to take advantage of my body heat. I unzipped my light jacket and pulled it around her as she shivered against me, her face tucked under my arm and her arms drawn in to her. I felt the beginnings of heat coming from the floorboards. "It's warming up now," I said. She just shook her head and burrowed deeper into me, now snaking her arms around me, inside my jacket, to hold me around my waist. "You could probably safely come out now," I said as I felt my feet begin to warm. She shook her head again, staying right where she was. "Come on, you can do it," I said encouragingly. Again she shook her head, and pulled even tighter on me. I grasped her shoulders and gently pulled her out from her warm cocoon. She lifted her head and smiled at me, then moved up closer to me. I bent down and kissed her softly. She practically purred as I kissed her, her pleasure and contentment obvious, even to me. I felt her lips open slightly, her signal that she wanted more. I let the tip of my tongue peek out and touch her warm lips, and they parted a little more as her own tongue came out to meet mine, tips touching and caressing, exchanging information on a cellular level. My own internal temperature climbed, and I stopped kissing her long enough to reach for the zipper of her coat. She watched me solemnly as I slowly lowered the tab and opened her coat so I could slip my arms around her. When I did, my hands encircling her waist, she closed her eyes and lifted her face up to kiss me again, opening her lips a little more and becoming more daring with her tongue in my mouth. She suddenly thrust her tongue as deeply as she could into me, and the resultant flare that shot through me almost made me cry out. My hand found its way to the hem of her sweatshirt, and my fingers wormed their way underneath, encountering the soft skin of her tummy. I could feel the depression of her belly button, but that particular area was not my goal at the moment, as my hand slipped up her sternum to find her small breasts. I grasped one and squeezed, slid my hand over to fondle the other, then moving back to the first, almost as if comparing the roundness and firmness of her feminine charms. Her tongue continued thrusting into me, taking my breath away, as I found the front clasp of her bra, having learned from my previous session, and I managed to fumble with the clasp until the encasing material magically parted to allow me access to her hot, desirable flesh. As soon as I released her swelling breasts and touched her engorged nipples, she moaned and opened her mouth as wide as she could, inviting my own tongue in to invade and explore. I was so confused, my brain so addled from the fires raging in me, that I didn't know what to concentrate on. I really wanted to lift her sweatshirt off so I could pay proper homage to the treats in the palm of my hand, but that was impossible, so I let my tongue do its exploring within the moist confines of her mouth, while my fingers played with the exquisite treasures of her boobs. My cock was painfully swollen, caught in the seam of my jeans, so I reluctantly abandoned her soft breast for a moment and took my hand out from under her sweatshirt so I could make a minor adjustment of my own. Her body language spoke of disappointment that I seemed to be done with her sensitive nipples, until she realized what I was doing. Of her own volition, she dropped her hand onto mine as I adjusted the position of my steely cock. As I twisted in the seat and repositioned my shaft, her hand stayed on top of mine, feeling what I had done. I slipped my hand from beneath hers, and felt her hesitate when her hand dropped onto my hard cock, feeling its length and girth for the first time. She allowed her hand to lie there, passively holding me, creating even more blood flow into the area. I was afraid I might go off in my jeans if she did start to hold me, but it was a chance I was willing to take. Her actions made me bold enough to reach back for her waist, but instead of gliding up her body back to her delightful breasts, I moved my hand to the snap of her jeans. She was not quite ready to take that large step, however, and she abandoned my crotch to grab my wrist, stopping me. I placed my hand flat on her tummy, and she returned to exploring my cock through my pants, taking up where she had left off. After a few moments of letting my hand rest there, I tried rubbing her through the layers of her clothes, at first lightly and slowly moving from the snap of her jeans to between her parted legs, and then progressively pressing harder on her as she allowed this intimacy. Finally I was pushing against her covered cunt hard, and I could feel her legs quiver as they lay open for me. Her kisses were very hot and wet, and our tongues were squirming and darting, licking and tasting without reservation. Judging that she just might be ready for more, I took the tab of her zipper and tried to lower it without undoing the snap on her jeans. As I struggled to slide it down, her hand on my cock stopped its rubbing as she paused, waiting to see what I was going to do. Her zipper parted, and I slipped my hand into the opening, encountering the silky fabric of her panties. I felt hot moisture soaking her panties as my fingers moved lower. Her jeans were too tight for me to be able to reach the source of the heat, but I could just detect the crinkle of her pubic hair through the thin fabric of her panties with my fingertips. I felt her hips move up slightly off the seat, and her legs parted just a little, and suddenly there was a bit more room for my fingers. I pushed a little harder, and my fingertips found where her hot oils were coming from as I pushed the crotch of her panties into the top of her slit, soaking up more of her smooth, hot liquid. I pressed against her, vainly seeking her clit and her opening through the fabric, trying to wish away our clothes. She broke our kiss, panting and gasping at the sensations rolling through her. Her hand was now clutching at my rock hard cock, creating a monumental pressure within me. I pulled my hand out to scramble for the snap of her jeans, intending to invade the barrier of her panties and claim the prize my fingers wanted, but that tripped a circuit breaker in her. She froze, and grabbed my hand, stopping me from continuing. "No, Sean, please. I can't." She was still breathing very hard, and I knew that what she did was nearly as difficult on her as it was on me, but I couldn't deny her. I looked into those huge brown eyes, looking so longingly at me, and took my hand completely out of her pants and pulled her by the waist to me. I lowered my face to her and kissed her soft lips, bending to her will without reservation. We kissed and cuddled for a time, lost in our own thoughts of wishes and acceptance, unspoken longings and unfulfilled desires balanced by the unreserved respect of our individual silent vows. Our kisses became more and more chaste, until finally they were as we had started, soft and tender and loving. Two weeks later, I had a very busy weekend planned. The girls had their first game on Friday night, and I was going to watch the varsity team play. There was a pizza party planned for after the game, and Kristina and I were going to go. On Saturday morning, she was coming over to my house to work on a project we were doing together for our English class. We had the same teacher, but were in different classes, so the assignments were the same for both classes. Then, later in the afternoon, Davey and Kip had their first game of the season. I was hoping that the lane drills we had been using would pay off during a game situation, and was anxious to see how it worked. The weekend started out great. The girls played hard on Friday, winning their game 3-0. Tessa tallied her first shutout as a varsity keeper, and Kristina scored the final goal, powering a shot in from just inside the box after taking a crossing pass. After the game, we all went to a local hangout and ordered pizzas and sodas, talking about the game and laughing over some of the little errors that didn't affect the outcome at all. Most of the team was there, along with a bunch of friends of the team, including Jorge, Molly, Toby and Ashley. Tessa had decided, sometime over the course of the spring, that maybe I wasn't the Devil incarnate, and was back to being relatively friendly to me again. Molly still didn't talk to me much, but we weren't enemies, either, so everybody at the pizza place was comfortable, and happy that they got their first win under their belts. I ended up driving Jorge and Kristina back to their house afterwards. Jorge, in his usual considerate way, quickly slipped out of the car as soon as it was stopped, giving Kristina and I a moment together so we could share one quick kiss. It wasn't nearly enough, but it would have to do. On Saturday, Kristina's mother dropped her off at my house so we could work on the project. Mrs. Mendoza came in for a moment and chatted with my mom in the kitchen. I'm sure she wanted to make sure Kristina and I hadn't just cooked up a plan to be alone, but we really did have homework to do. My brother Michael was home, too, coming in and out of the house for drinks and snacks as he washed and waxed his recent purchase, a 1977 Honda Accord. After about an hour, my mom called us down for lunch. As we were eating, she said, "I hope you guys don't mind cleaning up after lunch. I have to go to my bridge club this afternoon." "No, Mom, that's all right," I said. "If you need anything, Michael is working on his car in the driveway," she added. "Okay, no problem. We'll just be working here." We were set up in the family room, and had the stereo going. Kristina went back in to continue working while I cleaned up the kitchen after lunch. When I got done in the kitchen, I walked into the family room to get back to work. Kristina was lying on the floor on her stomach, one leg bent up into the air, writing in the journal we were creating. It was a warm spring Saturday, and she was wearing a short t-shirt that had ridden up just a little, to leave a thin strip of skin showing above her shorts. She looked absolutely delicious, so scrumptious that I just couldn't resist. I knelt down next to her and kissed the gap between her t-shirt and her shorts. She squirmed a little. "Stop it, Sean," she said, but she really didn't sound like she meant it, so I did it again. "Sean!" she complained, but there was a laugh in her voice. She pretended to keep on writing as I scooted down and kissed the back of her bent knee. She squirmed again, but it wasn't to get away from me. This squirm had a definite hint of excitement in it, especially when she straightened out her leg for me. It seemed like an open invitation to me, so I did it again, this time eliciting a humming "Mmmmmmm" from her. I kissed my way up the back of her thigh, all the way up to the hem of her shorts, and worked my way back down again to the back of her knee. Her leg was silky smooth on my lips, and I could feel the fires begin to stoke within me as I continued. I worked my way slowly back up her thigh, nibbling and kissing along one leg and running just my fingertips, so lightly I was barely touching her, up her other thigh. Her legs parted slightly, an involuntary reaction that I didn't think she even realized was happening. She lay still, the journal forgotten as she concentrated on the signals being transmitted through her nervous system. I began to caress just a little more with my fingertips, still reveling in the silken feel of her skin on my lips and tongue and fingers. I kissed and caressed up and down her legs, each time a memorable journey of discovery. Finally, as I approached the hem of her shorts, I grasped the material in my teeth for a moment, and then stuck my tongue up the leg of her baggy shorts as far as I could, pushing up the material with my face as I went, until I got to the edge of her panties covering her tight butt, tasting the salt on her skin from her thigh to the crease along the bottom of her ass. I was beginning to catch the faintest whiff of her excitement, a rush of pheromones that entered my nasal passages and raced directly into the core of my brain. She was still propped up on her elbows, her head back and her eyes closed as she concentrated on the pleasures she was experiencing. As I was kissing and chewing on the edge of her shorts and panties, I traced a line from her knee, up the inside of her thigh, with just one finger. Her legs parted more, anticipating and unconsciously encouraging further explorations of her most sensitive areas. I let that finger slide beneath her shorts and trace the line of the edge of her panties, along the flare of her ass and to her damp crotch. I felt along that route, back and forth, without delving to her damp center, building up pressure and expectation in her, wanting to make her first experience of another's caress within her female flesh one of pleasure and, hopefully, release. Her legs were splayed apart now, and I used my hand to push up the material of her shorts and her cotton underwear, exposing as much of the soft globes of her ass as possible to my lips and tongue. I continued to caress her, now able to explore more of her. Finally, I was able to delve into the crack of her ass, encountering heat and moisture coming from her drooling slit. I touched her soft pussy lips for the first time, coating my fingertips with her oily wetness, gently exploring her folds. I held her open with my fingers as I knelt between her legs and reached into her center with my tongue, tasting her for the first time. She jerked when she first felt me lick her, but then she moaned, accepting and enjoying the sensation. It was a little difficult to work around her clothes, so I reached up and grasped the elastic waist of her shorts and tried to pull them down. They didn't want to come off easily, at least until she hunched up, taking her weight off, allowing me to slide them down her hips. I scrambled out of the way and pulled them the rest of the way off. Her eyes were still closed, almost as if she didn't want to see me seeing her so naked and vulnerable as she lay there, still on her stomach. I grasped her slender hips and gently tried to roll her over. Without opening her eyes even a fraction, she allowed herself to be rolled over onto her back. She tucked her hands up under her chin, arms tight to her chest, as I knelt beside her. I caressed her soft thigh again with one hand, touching her knee and letting my fingers explore the inside of her leg, all the way up to the pink flesh of her flowered pussy. As my hand went further up, her legs parted for me, opening the way for me to continue, until they were wide apart. I lay down between her legs and kissed her legs where my fingers had been, starting once more at her knee, and moving up with soft nibbles and kisses, until my lips met her opening. I felt the tickling of her sparse hair brushing up against my nose as I let just the tip of my tongue explore her inner recesses, from her flooding hole to her engorged clit, tasting and licking and loving her the best I could. Her hips started contributing to the motions, moving of their own volition to guide my lips and tongue as I tried to lap up as much of her deliciously tangy moisture as I could. I reached up with one hand, running it under her t-shirt to grasp her bra-covered breast. She moaned even louder, and her hands scrambled to release the front catch of her bra, lifting it up and out of the way before grabbing my hand and pressing it hard to her swollen breast and sensitive nipple. She was panting hard now, and there was a little nearly breathless screech at the end of each exhalation as her hips began to bump up against my face. One of her hands was still holding my hand to her boob, and the other was tangled in the hair on the back of my head as she unconsciously pushed me harder into her as I licked and probed. Finally, I began to trill on her swollen clitoris, using my tongue to bat it like a boxer's speed bag, while at the same time I plunged my middle finger deep into her vagina. I could feel her walls pulsing and spasming around my invading finger as she was driven over the edge, and my taste buds were rewarded with a small flood of her hot juices bathing my tongue. I lapped up what I could as she came, panting and crying out softly, her back arched in ecstasy, until, finally, she collapsed back to the floor. I took one last, loving caress of her deepest folds with my tired tongue, and then scooted up to her, putting my arm around her to hold her tight. Her eyes were still closed, tears leaking out from under her lashes, as I hugged her to me. She put her arms around me, and, unseeing, reached up to kiss me. Her tongue poked out to lick at my lips as she kissed me, and she encountered the taste of her own pussy for the first time. She was enthralled with it. She began to lick my mouth and cheeks, finding all evidence of her juices and lapping it up, cleaning me from nose to chin, cheekbone to cheekbone. When she could find no more, she rolled over on top of me and kissed my lips as hard as she could, forcing my mouth open so she could invade my mouth with her tongue, trying to find the last remnants of the taste she had come to love. I let my hands wander down her back to grasp the cheeks of her lovely ass, pressing her harder against my raging cock. She nestled down on me, pressing against my hardness with her lower body. Her hips flexed a little, creating delicious friction against me. I could feel her pussy drooling, leaving a spot of hot, oily moisture on my shorts. I was about to suggest we go up to my room, away from the possibility of discovery by my brother, when the telephone rang. "Shit," I muttered. I scrambled up from under her, my cock still achingly hard in my pants, and reached for the phone. "Is Kristina there, please?" It was her mother's voice. Oh, great, I thought. A hell of a time for her to be calling, but I didn't say anything, just handed the phone over to Kristina, who was struggling to put her clothes back on and in order. "Hello?" She paused, listening. "Si, Mama. Si. Adios." She turned to me after hanging up the phone. "My mom is coming to pick me up. I'm sorry, Sean." She looked crestfallen, but I thought she might have been a little relieved that we didn't have more time to go even further than we did. I, on the other hand, was not relieved at all. In fact, I was in some discomfort, having been left in the lurch, in a manner of speaking. I wondered if there was any factual basis behind the theory of taking a cold shower. Looking at the clock, though, I realized I might not have time for even that cold shower. Davey and Kip's soccer game was starting shortly. As soon as Kristina's mother picked her up, I would have to borrow Michael's car and get to the game. Frustration mounted on frustration. It wasn't Kristina's fault that her mother called, and I had to be going anyway, but I still felt like I had been put through the wringer by circumstances beyond my control. We picked up our study materials in silence. Kristina's shoulders were a little hunched, and she kept on glancing at me with a worried expression. I knew she had detected my mood, and it was upsetting her, but I couldn't find the right words to say to her to ease her mind. I just wasn't in an easing frame of mind, so I let her suffer a little. A car honked from the driveway. Kristina headed for the front door, books and papers in her arms. I opened the door for her. I still couldn't think of anything meaningful to say to her. "I'll see you later," I said lamely. "Okay, Sean." There was a hint of tears in her eyes that I tried to ignore. "Good luck at the game this afternoon. Will you call me later?" "Sure, I'll call you tonight after I get back home," I said. Maybe by then I could come up with the proper words to tell her how much I cared for her, words that just escaped me now. I closed the door and sighed, disgusted with myself, and trudged upstairs to change my clothes for the game. I did have just enough time to test out that cold shower theory. It didn't work. Michael was going out with some buddies tonight, so he let me borrow his nice, clean car so I could get to the soccer game. I got there with just minutes to spare, so I ran out onto the field to give Coach Bill a hand with warmups. The referee came over to inspect the team, and patiently explained to the young boys about how the game was to come to a stop whenever he blew his whistle. He also talked for just a moment about throw-ins, hand balls, and other fairly common things that were bound to come up in the course of a game, explaining how he would be calling the infractions he saw. The information was nothing new to Bill or I, but it was good to have the boys reminded of the rules of the game by someone in a uniform. We took the boys over to the sidelines and talked to them briefly before giving them their positions for the start of the game. "How shall we play the game today, boys?" asked Coach Bill. "Zones and lanes!" they shouted. "Right! Okay, remember that your lanes overlap. That means that you, Justin," he said, pointing to the boy who would be playing center forward, "can move a little bit into Joey's lane on the left, or into Davey's lane on the right." "Oh...KAY!" shouted Justin. "Now, Joey," he said, turning to his left forward, "can you go into Justin's lane?" "Yup," said Joey. "Right. And can you go into Davey's lane?" asked Bill. "No way, Jose!" Joey yelled. All the kids started laughing. "That's right," called out Coach Bill. The boys quieted down a little. "Play your lanes, and pass the ball." Davey called out our passing chant, "One potato look, two potato pass!" "Exactly right!" exclaimed Bill. "Are you ready? Okay, team, go out there and show them how this game is played!" They all jumped up and down, shouting and hooting as Bill called out their names and sent them out to the field to take their positions. Davey was playing forward on the left, Kip was our center midfielder. We had three boys in reserve to substitute where we needed them. We were playing 12-minute quarters, and I knew by the end of the game, some of our kids would be dog-tired. We would be able to substitute 9 of the 12 players during the game, which meant that three boys would have to play the whole game. We mapped out a plan so that those three would rotate into the goalkeeper's jersey for one quarter each, so at least they wouldn't be out running the entire time. We were playing a newly formed team, and their coach was one of the dads who had been "volunteered" for the job. He was willing, but he really didn't know the game very well. Our team, on the other hand, was almost entirely intact from the fall session, so they were more experienced. Coach Bill had let me introduce some new drills to our practices, many of them techniques I had found to be particularly useful when I was learning the basics of positions and ball handling, and we felt we had a pretty talented team on our hands by this point. Bill and I stayed on the sidelines, shouting out encouragement and moving our players up or back on the field as we saw how the game was developing. We made sure we were on the opposite side of the field from where the parents were sitting, reasoning that our instructions could be separated by the players from the general noise and hubbub coming from the spectators' side. It all worked beautifully. Our boys pretty much played their lanes, with just a few excursions back into swarm-ball soccer, while the opposing team's players all followed the path of the ball in a mob. The end result, 48 minutes of game time later, was our first win of the season, 7-1. Davey had scored three of the goals, Justin scored two, and Joey and Kip each had one goal. After we were up 4-0, around the middle of the second quarter, we even pulled one player off the field, willing to play short for the sake of fair play. We stayed that way through the entire second half, and still, even playing down one player, outscored them 3-1 during that time. All of the moms and dads of the boys on our team were going nuts on the other side of the field, getting louder and crazier with each goal. When the referee blew his whistle to end the game, they all came rushing out onto the field as if we had won a major championship or something. Bill and I just watched from the sidelines as our boys were overrun by the mob of parents washing onto the field to congratulate them. Somebody suggested that everybody could meet at a local pizza parlor for a victory celebration. Since it was late in the afternoon, and everybody was hungry, it was agreed that we would have a team dinner. As Bill and I were packing up our equipment, Lori Wilkinson came over to us, Davey and Kip at her sides looking upset. "Bill, I hate to ask you this, but I can't go to the pizza party tonight. I'm meeting some friends for dinner, and I have to get home and get ready. I've got a babysitter scheduled to be there in just a few minutes, but the boys really want to go with the rest of the team." She looked at the two of us and smiled. "Do you think I could impose on you to drop them off at our house after the party?" Davey and Kip's eyes lit up at hearing that. How could we refuse? "Of course, Lori. I'll be glad to," he said. "I have my brother's car here, too," I added. "If it's okay with you that they ride with me, I'll take them over to the party so you don't have to drop them off." "Oh, Sean, that would be lovely." She turned to the boys. "Okay, you guys, listen up. Sean and Coach Bill are in charge. What they say goes. Do you understand?" "Yes, Mom!" "Yes, Mom!" "And wear your seat belts. No excuses!" she added. "We will, Mom." "We always do, Mom." "All right," she said, giving each of them a hug and a kiss before walking off toward the parking lot. She turned and waved at us as she crossed the field. By the time we got all the pizzas, it was later than we had anticipated. Most of the boys were starting to fade, and Bill kept looking at his watch worriedly. "What's the matter?" I asked. "My kids are home alone. My wife is working tonight, and I've got to get home and take care of them," he said. "So go," I told him. "I know where the Wilkinson house is. I'll drop off Davey and Kip for you." "Are you sure, Sean? I mean, Lori asked me to take them, but..." "I'm sure. Everything will be fine. Lori's a friend, I know she'll understand. Go, take care of your own kids." Bill thanked me and took off for home. I waited until the boys were stuffed full of pizza and sodas, and herded them out to the parking lot. They scrambled into the back seat of the Accord and fastened their seat belts. By the time I carefully pulled out into the street, they were nodding off. They were fast asleep by the time I got to their house. I pulled into the driveway, got out of the car, and reached into the back seat and unfastened Davey's seat belt first. I picked up the dead weight of the sleeping boy and hitched him up so he was kind of draped on my shoulder, and trudged up to the front door. I was holding him up with both hands, so I kicked at the door, hoping that the babysitter, if she was still there, would hear me and open the door for me. I wasn't too surprised when Molly O'Toole opened the door. I remembered hearing about some sort of cheerleading competition that was going on this weekend, and Molly standing there in her cheerleading skirt and letter sweater reminded me of it. She must have come here directly from the competition, instead of going home to change first. When she saw me, her eyes widened, until it registered that Davey was asleep in my arms. She held the door open for me so I could carry him into the house. I climbed the stairs and set him down on his bed, and then went back down and out to the car to get Kip. Molly had followed me upstairs, and she was able to wake Davey enough to help him get into his pajamas and climb under the covers of his bed. As soon as his head touched the pillow, he was back asleep. I waited downstairs, pacing back and forth in the family room, as Molly got Kip into bed. I was uncomfortable being there, but I didn't want to be so rude as to just simply leave without a word. There was an artist's pad and colored pencils on the couch, and a bowl of wax fruit on the coffee table. It looked like Molly was making good use of her time waiting for the boys to show up by working on some art homework. I picked up the pad and looked at it. It wasn't bad, even for a half-finished drawing, but the perspective of the curve of the bowl looked wrong to me. Not that I could do any better, I reminded myself. In fact, I had trouble drawing a stick figure, so I really had no right to criticize Molly's work. I put the pad down as I heard her come down the stairs. "Not bad," I said, indicating her drawing. She just shrugged. "I'm not real happy with it," she said, sitting down on the couch and picking up the paper. "See? I just can't get this bowl right." She flipped over the pad to show me some previous attempts at the still life. She was right. She was struggling with it, but each subsequent drawing was better than the previous one. "Don't worry about it, you'll get it," I said. I flopped down in the easy chair. I was nearly as tired as the boys, I realized. It had been a long day. Molly picked up a bunch of wax grapes, their finish red and dusky, and let them roll from one hand to the other absent-mindedly. "I could get how the grapes are round," she said, "but that bowl is really tough." She held up the bunch, looking at them critically. "Most of these fruit have a curve to them. Why is the bowl so difficult?" She tossed the grapes back into the bowl and picked up an artificial banana. "Even this," she said, looking at the yellow fruit, "has a shape I can handle." She glanced at me then, and held the end of the banana lightly against her closed lips. My tired mind registered how her pupils dilated slightly, but the recognition didn't bubble up to the conscious areas of my brain until, still holding the tip to her lips, she said, "I like bananas." Her lips parted slightly, her eyelids drooped just a little, and the banana seemed to slide into her mouth a fraction. My brain may have been befuddled, but my body certainly recognized the signals. I felt a little light-headed as contacts closed, synapses fired, and blood flow was suddenly redirected to my rapidly inflating cock. "Do you like tasty fruit, Sean?" she whispered. "I know you do." Her fingers were sliding slowly up and down the wax banana now as she held it close to her mouth and played with it. I was frozen there, my hands nailed to the arms of the chair, my legs out in front of me, as I stared at her uncomprehendingly. I was just peripherally aware that my now rock-hard cock was jumping up in my sweatpants, pulsing with the beat of my heart. It was big and obvious, and Molly's eyes were naturally drawn to my crotch. "Oh, yes, I see that you do," she whispered as she stared, eyes shining, at my rearing stalk. Her legs parted slightly as she sat up, leaning in toward me just a little. She dropped her hands down to her lap as I watched, riveted there. I watched and did nothing as she slowly lifted up her skirt, sliding the hem up her thighs until her pale blue underwear was showing. She still held the banana with her other hand, and once her legs were fully exposed to me, she slowly rubbed the banana across her panties, between her legs. When the tip of the wax fruit touched her covered cunt, she sighed, leaned back and slitted her eyes, watching me all the time she was turning us both on. "I've missed you, Sean," she whispered hypnotically. "Have you missed me?" Could I detect just a trace of dampness soaking through the crotch of her panties as she rubbed the banana back and forth? Maybe so. I wasn't sure. My brain was seriously disconnected from all that was happening. "I've missed you a lot," she whispered. She leaned forward and dropped to her knees on the floor, and crawled over to me. She put a hand on each of my knees and pushed them up along the tops of my thighs, letting them pause at my pelvis. The crude monument of my dick stood up, proud and straight, between her hands on me. She was looking into my face, her eyes now bright and shining and confident, as she reached for the elastic waistband of my sweat pants. She grabbed the sweats and the elastic of my underwear at the same time, and pulled them both down, exposing my raging cock to the air momentarily, pulsing and blood red, before grasping it in her hot hand and pumping me. I sank even further into the chair and groaned, closing my eyes as the sensations raced through me like a tidal wave. It wasn't going to take long to bring me off, considering my frustrations of earlier in the afternoon, I thought disjointedly. My crotch humped up into her hand, desperately seeking the completion that I could not bring to myself, dangerously near to that climax. I felt something warm and wet engulf the head of my oversensitive cock, and looked down to see Molly with a different sort of banana, a fleshy appendage instead of a wax substitute, in her mouth. She was still looking up at me as she blew me, and now her eyes looked amused. When she saw me watching her, she opened her mouth so I could watch her tongue lave and drool all over my swollen cock, kicking up my temperature even more. She clamped down her lips on me again and sucked hard on me, still holding my fevered gaze. My hips rocked once, twice, three times, trying to get more of me into her hot mouth, and then I went off. I came in what felt like buckets, filling her mouth with my hot seed. She swallowed, creating more suction, and I spasmed again, giving her another taste of my spend, and she swallowed again, ready for more. She took all I had to give, working her lips and tongue and fingers to coax as much out of me as I could give her, swallowing each spasm and going for more. I collapsed back even further into the chair, drained completely, my eyeballs trying to roll back in their sockets. I felt her lick at me some more, until finally I began to lose my hardness. Still she held me in one hand, while with the other she grabbed my arm, pulling me up and out of the chair. I stood on wobbly legs as she shucked my sweats off. I lifted one leg at a time and allowed her to pull them down and off my feet, pulling my shoes off with them. When I was naked from the waist down, she coaxed me down onto the floor, never once relinquishing her hold on my rubbery cock. I lay down on my back, arms at my sides. When she had me positioned just right, she finally let go of me so she could stand and reach under her skirt to take off her soaked panties and toss them aside. She pulled off her sweater, undid her bra, and joined me on the floor, straddling me. My half-hard cock dangled onto my stomach, and she sat on me so that her drooling pussy was pressing on it. She leaned down and fed her swollen nipples to me, and I suckled on her as she wanted. My brain was screaming at me, NoNoNoNoNo, even as my lips were exploring her luscious breasts. My hands found their way to her tits, and I hefted them, feeling their weight and substance, caressing the soft undersides. I noticed that I could feel a filling sensation in my crotch as blood started flowing into my dick again. Molly noticed, too, and reached down to hold me in her hot little hand as I inflated and hardened. "God, I love feeling it get big," she murmured to herself as I got to my full length with her help. She lifted up her hips and positioned me against her opening, and sat down on me. She was as tight, hot and wet as I remembered her, and I let my hands rest on her hips as she rode me up and down, taking her pleasure, her skirt hiding our coupling from view. I pressed my palms against her boobs as we fucked, feeling her sensitive nipples slide up and down my hands with her movement. She leaned into my hands, pressing her breasts harder against me, making a rougher connection on her swollen nubs. She was panting by now, and there was a sheen of sweat on her forehead as she concentrated on humping herself to her own completion. I was still pretty much out of it. My hips started hunching up as she was powering down on me, each of us trying to bury my shaft into her to the hilt. I didn't even think about what we were doing when I started spurting within her again, while at the same time her cunt was spasming around my pulsing cock as she reached her own orgasm. She was screeching, I was grunting, and we pushed each other to crashing climaxes. I felt like I was being turned inside out, I came so hard. It wasn't until she finally collapsed down on top of me that it occurred to me, much too late, that we were unprotected. I had come inside her. In fact, I was still buried in her, fluids seeping out from our joining to coat both of us, our pubic hair intertwined and damp with her oils and my seed. That thought, more than anything, snapped me out of my funk. I pushed her off me and felt my spent cock slip from her warm cunt as I rolled away from her. I stood up and looked down at her in disgust. She didn't shy away from me, but looked boldly back at me, lying there on the floor, a small smile on her face as if to say, I've won you back after all. I turned away from her, nauseated by the smell of our coupling, sick to my stomach at what we had done, furious at myself and at her. I found my clothes and put them on as quickly as I could and slipped my shoes on my feet without tying them. I had to get out of there. Without a word I ran out the door and jumped into my car. I started it up and backed out into the street without looking, jammed the car into gear and took off for home. My house was dark when I got there, but I didn't want any lights on. I ran upstairs to my room, tears burning in my eyes. I stripped off all my clothes, scrubbed on my crotch with my sweat pants to try to remove the feel of Molly, to no avail. I stumbled down the hall naked, to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and crawled in. The water was scalding as I sat huddled in the corner of the shower stall, shivering and miserable. Tears were coursing down my cheeks as I recoiled at what I had done. To myself, to Molly, to Kristina. I hated myself at that moment. I stayed there, miserable and wet, as the water pounded down on me, slowly getting cooler and cooler, until it was icy cold. Only then did I manage to reach up and shut it off, but I could not move from the cold floor of the shower stall. I stayed there for a long, long time, convinced that I was the most amoral, evil, worthless person I knew, utterly without virtue or value. And I was absolutely devastated at what I had done to Kristina and her trust. I could never face her again. I never wanted to face anybody ever again. I think I passed out there, amid floating images of a cinnamon- skinned innocent, a cunning strawberry blonde vixen, a lovely dark- haired angel with braces, and a temptress with white-blonde hair dressed in a genie's costume circling and harrowing my tortured mind until blessed unconsciousness claimed me. THE END (for now) Author's note: And so ends the first book of "Playing the Game". I hope you have enjoyed the story of Sean Porter. I plan on picking up his story in the near future in Book 2. In the meantime, let me know your thoughts on Sean's life so far. I know what I think, but what do you think? You can contact me at RevCottonMather@excite.com or on my message board at my website at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ReverendCottonMather/www Thanks for sticking with me this far. RCM -- 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. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+