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  • Team Spirit: Part 3
    Team Spirit: Part 3
    of 7
    A Taking Acquaintances to another level.

    By FinalStand. Listen to the ►

    Podcast at Explicit
    Novels.



    Standing up for what you believe in may hurt now; not

    making a stand hurts forever.

    Saturday Homecoming

    Our Homecoming game had been against Columbia Creek. They

    were at the bottom half of the league so they didn't give us too much trouble.
    They played a fair game so we didn't run up the score. It turned out that our
    game didn't matter too much because on the same night Panther Hill lost their
    Homecoming to little Hoover. Consider how rough a game Panther Hill had played
    with us, we could only cheer Hoover on with all our hearts.

    What placed all that back to the corner of my mind was how

    good Amber looked when I came by to pick her. Jack was an idiot for stepping
    out on this girl. Her look of uncertainty was tender when she came into the den
    where I sat with her mother father and little sister. She really didn't know me
    and now I was in charge of one of the two most important days of her High
    School life. I had no idea what we would do for Prom.

    "Wow," declared as I stood up. "You look

    stunning." Amber gave a relieved smile then moved to her mother and gave
    the woman a hug.

    "I want you back by eleven," the father instructed

    me.

    "Father!" Amber gasped.

    "Mr. Trenton (Amber's last name), I was thinking we

    would stay out until one, but I promise you we'll be with Emily the entire
    time," I countered. He measured me and my intentions. I was somewhat
    pleased he wasn't giving me a box of condoms and a hotel room key.

    "Very well, Mr. Dawkins," he nodded. "It is

    an important night and we trust Emily."

    He didn't trust me, but as hot as Amber was looking, I

    didn't totally trust me either. I took her to my car; got her to her side and
    she rewarded me with another smile. Once we are headed to the dance Amber turns
    to me.

    "Thank you," she told me.

    "Sure; no problem. What are you thanking me for?"

    "I know that you would rather be going with Emily and

    Jamie," she offered.

    "Amber?"

    "Yes?" she answered.

    "I want to be going to the party with you. I'm not

    saying I was ready to do this a week ago, but I'm certainly happy that I'm
    doing it now. You look fantastic and in the week I've got to know you I'm sure
    we are going to a great time," I informed her. She didn't give me an
    audible answer but did reach across the seat and held my hand.

    I was a little late so we had to park farther from the

    banquet hall and with storm clouds over head I was really worried about the
    possibility of rain. We got to the dance okay and we hadn't been inside when we
    were jumped by Emily and Jamie. Emily looked absolutely perfect with the right
    mix of sensual and demur.

    Jamie made me gasp. The girl wore a black silk and lace

    number that reminded me of the twisted not-so-little girl I'd been attracted to
    initially. Her cover story was that she was the 'male' in the Emily-Jamie
    couple. I may have been the only other person who appreciated the joke. What I
    did get was the obvious attention of three women. I made a point of keeping
    Amber in the dominant position. Emily had taught me well.

    Several of my football friends came over and asked Emily and

    Amber to dance. Jamie responded by asking several of their dates to dance --
    all in the name of comedy of course. Jamie got away with so much crap, doing
    close dances and even dipping some of her partners. When Emily and I joined in
    the fun -- why I got the pleasure of dancing with one of my own lineman I'll
    never know -- and we got Amber to join in as well.

    Before long odd partner swaps become the thing to do, not

    that there was anything home-erotic about it at all (right). By the time we
    left around ten I had to tease Jamie for bringing about the moral decay of
    Middle America. Jamie declared it was about time. Initially Amber and I thought
    we'd go to the local hang out to see and be seen but Emily told us she felt a
    bit nauseous and convinced us to go by her place.

    By some miracle of pre-sentience Emily had informed her dad

    that I would be taking her home, so I was left packing up all three girls and going
    to Emily's. Emily's dad was up and he was pleased as hell to see me with his
    daughter, even if it was with friends. We climbed up the stairs to Emily's room
    and when we got the door shut Emily and Jamie fell onto the bed giggling like,
    well, school girls.

    "Do we need to be going now?" I suggested. I

    really wasn't sure how much Amber was willing to digest. Play-acting at
    Homecoming was one thing, but this could be very different.

    "Don't you dare," Jamie declared. She began

    wiggling out of her dress. I wasn't counting on the fact that Amber had seen
    girls disrobe hundreds of times so she took Jamie's actions in stride.

    This gave me the time to appreciate some of the purchases we

    had been making for Jamie. What can I say; Jamie likes things slender, black,
    and lacy. I had about as much as I could take when Emily started taking off her
    dress as well. Why her parents allowed her to own baby-blue sheer underwear was
    beyond me.

    "I'm going to put on some jeans and a t-shirt Amber. I

    have some of your clothes here if you want to change as well," Emily
    stated innocently. I could barely detect the undercurrent of nervousness.

    "I ... Craig," Amber stuttered.

    "I'll step outside," I offered.

    "Oh Amber," Emily teased, "you two are dating

    now. It is okay." Amber stole an embarrassed look my way and all I could
    think of was how I promised her dad that I would keep us in Emily's company.

    "Okay," Amber responded hesitantly. I turned away

    so that I could only get a side view of Amber. I quickly figured out that she
    knew what I was doing but was performing anyway. As I waited Emily handed Amber
    some clothes then she and Jamie proceeded to get dressed themselves.

    "Well?" Amber said to me, sticking her chest out

    suggestively, even if only to tease. I reached out and ran my finger from her
    ear to chin.

    "Very hot," I grinned. All three girls smile.

    "What about you?" Jamie said accusingly. I looked

    confused until Emily pulled off her comforter and revealed a t-shirt, jeans,
    and shoes for me.

    My first thought was how in the hell did Jamie get my stuff

    then I realized she knew the way into my room by way of the window, that tricky
    witch.

    "There is nothing to be embarrassed about," Emily

    prodded.

    "Fair is fair," Jamie added. I looked to Amber for

    some release but she seemed overcome by events.

    "Fine," I conceded, "but turn your backs

    while I change." The three girls all exchanged looks.

    "Of course we will," Jamie assured me. I started

    to change and I caught all three girls pulling the same stunt I'd pulled with Amber.
    I felt horribly naked yet I'd been unclothed with two with these women before.

    "Very nice," Amber congratulated me. I looked down

    into her face, searching for some level of surrender, and when I found it I
    kissed her. She kissed back cautiously.

    "He's a stud," Jamie joked, "he's more than

    the two of us can handle, and he tries to make us happy. What more could a girl
    want?"

    Amber looked amused then laughed out loud. Emily stepped up

    and hooked my arm.

    "Craig's a sweet guy," Emily reassured Amber.

    "Sweet tasting guy," Jamie giggled. I did my best

    to look mortified.

    "Oh," Amber said in a way that could be taking

    well or poorly. To clarify for me, Amber came up and took my other arm.

    With both arms pinned Jamie came up and stroked my chest.

    "Just so we are clear, we aren't going to have a

    three-way tonight," she taunted. I moaned and Amber gasped.

    "Craig I want to make it clear. I'm not that kind of

    girl," Amber clarified.

    "What? You aren't going to torture me with sexual

    innuendo, skimpy clothing, and provide a false sense of masculine
    accomplishment?" I responded teasingly. Amber put her hand beside Jamie's.

    "No, I'm not going to lick you from eyelids to toes and

    give you a blowjob that will leave you blinded with pleasure on the first
    date," she falsely panted.

    "Excuse me, I think I have to go to the bathroom,"

    I groaned. The three girls ignored my needs and led me out of the house after
    that. After I put Jamie and Emily in the back seat I was putting Amber in the
    front when she turned and kissed me on the cheek.

    "Thank you for being so nice to me. You really are a

    fun guy." What could I say? At least she didn't call me nice.

    (Later That Evening)

    We were one of dozen couples at the Waffle Shack when Blair

    and a few of the football players came in. Blair and another guy, Ned, pulled
    up some chairs and helped themselves to our table.

    "So tell me Craig, who gets to be on top?" he

    snickered. He'd been drinking more than was safe for someone of his average
    mental capacity.

    "Blair," Emily pleaded.

    "Shut up!" Blair snapped.

    "Watch yourself Blair. I'd hate to have to put you back

    in the hospital," I said blithely. "Besides, you know what a screamer
    Emily is," I taunted the closet homosexual who had once been Emily's
    faux-boyfriend.

    "Bastard," Blair growled.

    "If you must know," Jamie grinned pleasantly,

    "I get to be on top and Emily sits on his face." Emily blushed
    furiously. Ned openly gawked and Blair sputtered. Amber nestled in closer to me
    seeking some level of comfort and stability. I put an arm around her.

    "Now you are trying to nail another one," Blair

    observed. "At least Jack loosened her up for you."

    "Excuse me," I told the ladies as I stepped up.

    Ned stood up to meet me.

    "Ned I don't have a problem with you," I managed

    at which point he clobbered me. I was lying on the ground when the first foot
    hit my guts. I was trying to curl up into a ball and defend myself when I heard
    Jamie screaming furiously. Something got Ned off of me.

    I was struggling to my feet when Ned threw Amber down on me.

    We splayed out on the ground. I could now here Blair screaming for Ned then
    Jamie squawked.

    "God damn it!" the cook hollered. I used the

    confusion to get up and pulled Amber with and behind me.

    Ned had Jamie back pressed painfully over the table. Emily

    hauled off and slapped him while her face was streaked with tears. I was
    getting ready to fling myself at Ned when I heard the cook shout again.

    "That's enough. Let go of the girl and get the hell out

    of here," he directed to Blair and Ned brandishing a hot skillet. Emily, Jamie
    and I were pretty regular here.

    Ned let Jamie go and backed away. Blair got on his crutches

    and when I saw his face he'd clearly been mangled by some fingernails. Only
    when the door shut behind those two did I allow myself to sit back down.

    "Okay, what in the hell just happened?" I asked.

    "I think Amber saved your ass," Jamie wheezed.

    "Jamie attacked Blair," Emily added.

    "Amber, you attacked Ned? He's twice your size," I

    wondered.

    "You ... you are my date," she sounded

    embarrassed.

    "Remind me to never piss you off," I said as I

    stroked her cheek.

    "Amber, I'm proud of you," Emily added as she

    reached across the table and squeezed Amber's hand.

    "What about me?" Jamie pouted.

    "Jamie, we already knew you were crazy," I grinned

    to which Jamie responded by sticking out her tongue.

    "How about we call it a night gang?" Jamie

    suggested. I had to nod. "We can go back to Emily's, get our clothes and
    head home." We gathered ourselves up and made the trek. Jamie and Emily
    didn't hesitate to give me more in the way of kisses than I normally got or
    deserved. Amber didn't only kiss me at the door; she ran her hands over my
    chest and thanked me for a wonderful night. Getting my ass kicked didn't turn
    out to be all that bad after all.

    (Next Saturday)

    By the next Monday everyone at school knew that Ned kicked

    me to the ground. What happened was a Cold War between my friends on the team
    and Blair's. The coach gave a pep talk that laid the blame fully on 'people
    that reach beyond themselves' which I took to be me. To my friends credit they
    saw through the bull crap.

    Friday we fought a tough game against Panther Hill again.

    This time the outcome was never in doubt. For the second half we stayed two
    touchdowns up and I had to feel pretty happy how the team pulled together. I
    put in only the briefest appearance with Emily and Jamie before making our exit
    from the victory celebration.

    On Saturday I promised to make it up to Amber. We went to

    the local place to be seen and acted like a real couple which seemed to make
    her happy. We were into some heavy petting in my car when Amber pulled away
    with a very serious look in her eyes.

    "Emily is my best friend Craig. I'd never hurt

    her."

    How does one say that my two girlfriends are probably doing

    the exact same thing in Jamie's basement that we are doing right now?

    "Amber, if you don't feel comfortable about this I can

    take you home or we can go see what Emily is doing and just hang out
    there," I told her. That gives her a second's pause then she reaches
    across the car seat and starts kissing me again.

    I have my hand inside the sweater and shirt but outside the

    bra when the phone rang. I groaned because I was really starting to believe
    Amber puts out on the second date and there all kinds of little tricks I'd
    learned with Jamie that I've been dying to try out on another girl. It was
    Emily with a 911. Seconds later I get the same from Jamie.

    I didn't burn any red lights, but I didn't' dawdle either

    getting to Jamie's. I was in the 'Man Cave' within seconds and Jamie was
    shoving a phone in my face. What I saw filled me with a cold rage. Jack and
    some of his buddies were making Gina Orwell pull a 'train'. The girl was
    clearly distraught and teary-eyed, but Jack was egging her on so she submitted.
    Only when the last guy has come on her body did Jack grab her by the face, tell
    her what a whore she was, and walked away did Gina fall to pieces.

    No one had to coach me on what to do this time. I called

    Quantrill, my favorite wide-receiver and told him to gather up six guys. We had
    something to do. Emily insisted we have to find Gina first so I had the guys
    gather up and meet with me later. Tracking her down required us to travel from
    the back of the bar where she was jumped down the road to her little home on
    the wrong side of the tracks.

    She was staggering home when we found her. She looked like

    hell. Her blouse had been torn so that here are no buttons left and her bra had
    been torn and mangled to the point it was useless. He skirt was a mess,
    according to the video her panties have been torn off, and her hose were torn.
    Her torso, face, hair and back were spackled with jism and it was sticking to
    what clothes she did have. In essence, she'd been humiliated again by being
    forced her to walk back home like this.

    Her initial reaction to my approach was fearful. She knew my

    car and made the assumption that some of us jocks had come back for seconds.
    Amber, Emily, and Jamie had to pour out to the car to convince her that we were
    here to help. The presence Amber elicited was its own kind of fear until she grabbed
    the tearful Gina and pulled her close. Amber, Gina, and Emily piled into the
    back seat. Gina was mumbling about her clothes and Emily was promising to her
    new stuff. Jamie was a lot more succinct.

    "Kill the bastard," she commanded me. I really

    didn't need the encouragement, but nodded to Jamie anyway. I dropped everyone
    off at Jamie's and she told me she was going to use her dad's car to pick us
    some stuff for Gina. I rendezvoused with my teammates after that. One of our
    guys has found Jack on the porch with three of his buddies, which is providence
    because I would have hated to having to hunt them down one at a time all night.

    There was no preamble to the fight. No one said something

    macho. Jack and his buddies knew why we are there and my buddies knew these
    assholes were a stain on our team's honor. We slammed into them like a
    merciless wave. There was a reason I brought so many guys. I'd never intended
    this to be a fair fight. You earn fair fights. This is a lesson and we proceed
    to administer it with a vengeance.

    We were polite enough to be waiting on the police when they

    arrived. This was not something I'd be running away from and my buddies stuck
    it out with me. We even helped the cop pile Jack and his bloodied buddies in
    the squad car and followed him to the station. This was a time when I proved
    that being the QB was worth something; we all showed up to face the music.

    They called the Chief in, showed him the video Jack and his

    buddies took of Gina and were let off with a warning about disturbing the
    peace. I heard him saying something about 'boys being boys' before he
    dispatched Jack and his cronies to the clinic. Gina deserved more but in this
    town I figured this was what she's going to get. For the first time at school
    I'd laid down the law and wonder of wonders, people listened.

    I sneaked into Jamie's place around four in the morning.

    She's left the door unlocked so I assumed I was welcome. I tried to be quiet
    but Jamie stirred when I came in. She was snuggled up to Amber on the sofa.
    Emily had her arms around Gina on sleeping bags on the floor. Soon all the
    girls were staring at me.

    "We put Jack and his buddies in the hospital. The

    police have been dealt with. Gina, I sorry, but I doubt the cops are going to
    look into this further," I informed her.

    Amber, Emily, and Jamie exchange a glance then kind of sneak

    looks to Gina.

    "Why?"

    "Essentially I think the cops are spineless," I

    responded.

    "No," she clarified, "why did you do

    it?"

    "Gina no one deserves to be treated like that,

    especially if they hide behind the name of my team. Would you rather I had not
    done it?" Gina seemed to think that over.

    "I'm ruined in school now," she sobbed, "No

    one will want to touch me, much less go out with me." Sadly I knew that is
    not the truth. Anyone seeking an easy score would take Gina on a date, give her
    a few beers and expect her to put out. After all, she fucked four guys at the
    same time, right? What could I say?

    "Gina, you are welcome at my table anytime," I

    offered.

    "Sure, we would be happy to have you," Emily, the

    Queen, assured her.

    "Of course. We both think Jack is a total douche. That

    has to count for something," Amber added.

    Gina hugged herself into Emily's blossomy embrace. Emily

    shot me an awkward look that I'm willing to bet has more to do with arousal
    than anything else. We both knew how horribly inappropriate coming on to such a
    vulnerable girl would be. Amber being in the room made it all that much more
    impossible.

    "Well, I thought you deserved to know," I told the

    girls as I turned to leave.

    "Come back here and sit on the sofa," Jamie

    instructed me. I went to sit beside her in the corner when she scooted aside
    and left the space between Amber and Jamie the only place to settle into. I put
    my ass down, sliding a bit into the seat and was tandem attacked by both woman.
    The put their heads on my shoulders and proceeded to go back to sleep. Emily
    got up and cut the light off before joining Gina back on the floor.

    (Sunday)

    I woke up to see Gina stretching as she sat on the floor,

    arms reaching toward the ceiling. She saw me looking at her and immediately
    blushed and looked away. I caught Emily looking over her shoulder at me. She'd
    been watching the show too. Gina had on a Nightwish t-shirt that was a little
    tight around the breasts and gym sweats which didn't do too much to hide her
    figure.

    Gina went down on one elbow and looked Emily in her large

    blue eyes.

    "Last night really happened didn't it?" Gina

    asked.

    "Yes, but we've been trying to make it better,"

    Emily answered. Gina then surprised both Emily and I being crossing the
    distance

    0 min
  • Team Spirit: Part 2
    Team Spirit: Part 2
    of 7
    A straight, a bi-sexual, and a lesbian make three.

    By FinalStand. Listen to the ►

    Podcast at Explicit
    Novels.



    Compassion and passion are not matters of gender or

    preference.

    We took a shower together when we got to my place. Jamie and

    I were busy exploring one another with soapy hands when Mom knocked on the door
    and started to come in. I hustled Jamie behind me so that the shower curtain
    concealed our outline.

    "How was the game, dear?" she asked while barely

    not looking in.

    "I got to play. The coach wants to talk about my role

    on the team tomorrow morning," I informed her.

    "How was that little girl you've been seeing ...

    Jesse?" Mom inquired.

    "It is Jamie, Mom. We had hot steamy post-victory sex

    and she's in the shower with me now," I confessed.

    "Funny, young man; do we need to have 'the talk'? I

    don't want some girl getting you in trouble," Mom worried.

    "Mom, I came here a virgin. Do you really want me to

    stay that way forever?" I asked. There is no immediate answer.

    "I want you to be careful Craig. Use protection; do I

    need to buy you some condoms?" she said. What was it with parents shoveling
    rubbers on me and my girl? Did we have 'desperately seeking sex' stenciled on
    our foreheads?

    "That would be nice Mom, you know, in case we get to be

    more serious. Can I finish my shower now? It feels kind of freaky with having
    you here with me," I lied.

    "Good night Craig. I'll talk with you tomorrow,"

    she said before shutting the door.

    "If that had gone on for another minute, I would have

    started giving you a blowjob," Jamie teased.

    "Weren't you a shy, retiring flower when I first came

    here last month?" I marveled.

    "You clearly didn't pay attention to the books on my

    bookshelves," Jamie giggled. "I like my romances dark, bloody and
    raw."

    "What are we doing together again?" I teased back.

    "You asked me out Craig," Jamie smiled. "I

    was eight the last time a guy asked me out."

    I turned off the water and we helped each other dry off. We

    got back to my room and dressed then I gave Mom another fifteen minutes to
    drift off to sleep before leaving with Jamie. She had to direct me to the local
    hospital. We weren't the only ones to have made that trek we discovered. My
    reception varied and I could already sense the rift forming in the team. Some
    guys saw me as the Winner, while to the others were Pro-Blair.

    Quantrill pulled me aside and gave me an update. The specialist

    had yet to arrive, but they thought his knee was blown, with major
    reconstructive surgery needed. The doctor had tossed around anything from two
    to five months. The cold analysis meant that I'd be carrying the team for more
    than half the season. My coach hated my guts and most of the team was taking
    delight in my suffering only yesterday. What's not to love?

    Some older guy came up to me and told me his son would be

    back soon and not to get too comfortable in the top slot. I was diplomatic; I
    told him that I knew I was the second stringer. I may have despised Blair, but
    I wouldn't deny that he had charisma. He was a good quarterback too -- I was
    better. Jamie and I went looking for Emily and found her with her two closest
    friends.

    I was not sure what to do. I had no idea what the dynamic

    was here, between those two, Emily, and how they felt about me stepping into
    Blair's position as QB. Emily looked up, clearly distressed and propelled
    herself into my arms.

    "Blair was happy you pulled the team through," Emily

    lied; either to me or herself, or both of us.

    "I'm going to stay here until the specialist

    arrives," I told the three women. Jamie was sticking close by but her
    anti-social background was weighing her down. It was clear that the other two
    haven't let Jamie into their social club yet. I stroked Emily's back as she dry
    sobbed into my shoulder.

    "Ladies ..." I started.

    "Kati and Amber," Amber volunteered. We were in

    the same tier now so suddenly it was important that we knew each other -- what
    a fucked up situation.

    "Kati and Amber, Jamie and I are going to hang out here

    with Emily. I think it is okay if two you go home. I'll make sure Emily gets
    home alright," I expressed my opinion.

    I can see the two weigh the implications of what I've said.

    "Thanks," Amber responded.

    "Amber, can you give your number to Jamie so if Emily

    needs anything we can call," I instructed Amber.

    "Sure," the cheerleader said. She went over and

    exchanged digits with Jamie, which in the pointless hierarchy of high school
    confirmed Jamie's status as the QB's girlfriend. When the two other girls
    cleared out, Jamie and I sat down with Emily and comforted her. Jamie held her
    hands and pulled Emily's head onto her shoulder.

    This allowed me to go keep tabs on Blair. I finally got in

    to see him. The QB was doped but he knew who I was. It didn't make him love me
    much.

    "You pulled it through," he mumbled.

    "Someone told me you wanted to take us to All-State

    this year," I suggested.

    "Don't get used to the top spot you

    second-stringer," he muttered.

    "Do you think one-tenth as many people would be here

    for me if it was me in that bed?"

    "You don't belong on the team at all," Blair

    growled.

    "Well, thanks for that ringing endorsement Blair. I'll

    leave you now," I responded sarcastically. I turned and left the room.
    There was nothing more I wanted to do to get off his shit-list.

    The specialist arrived and someone caught word that they are

    going to move Blair to the University hospital to repair the damage but there
    wasn't to be a definite diagnosis until Monday afternoon. Everyone broke up and
    departed. We took Emily home then I dropped off Jamie.

    (Saturday morning)

    Coach Ingersoll regarded me with his beady little eyes. It

    doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out he's gotten the initial prognosis
    for Blair.

    "If you want to even consider the top spot here boy,

    you need to get with the program," he brow-beat me. I stood up and made to
    leave.

    "Where in the hell do you think you are going?" he

    snapped.

    "Is there any confusion about who won the game last

    night," I responded in a cold, disdainful voice.

    "The team won, damn you," the coach snarled.

    "Yes, and without your ten year old playbook. Frankly I

    don't know why this school has had a winning season in the past five years. You
    teach rote, not initiative. If you want this team to win, give us a chance. Did
    you see Quantrill run? They're not five people in conference that can catch him
    yet we have no long passing plays," I pointed out.

    "We'll do it my way or you are off the team," he

    threatened me. I finish walking out the door and don't bother shutting it. I
    could hear him sputtering as I left.

    A few hours later it was Jamie, Emily and I sitting around

    the table at the Waffle Shack drinking sodas and talking things over.

    "I can't believe you walked away from the team,"

    Jamie wondered aloud. I felt she was proud of me.

    "People aren't going to like that," Emily warned

    me. "Football is big in this town."

    "I didn't walk away from the team, just the coach. If I

    play, I play to win," I countered.

    "The coach's plays were okay for Blair," Emily

    explained.

    "Blair was happy to be starter, but not all that

    concerned about winning. The team went eight and five last year, and all Blair
    wanted to do was win one more game. It didn't take me two weeks to figure out
    we had more talent than that," I stated.

    "And you think you can do better than the coach?"

    Emily questioned.

    "I led us to victory over the second best team in the

    conference," I told her. "I couldn't have done it without the talent,
    but the coach can lose even with the talent we have. It doesn't matter though.
    I'm off the team and now it is Wilcox's turn," I referred to the
    third-string quarterback who had lasted all of one series of downs against
    Panther Hill.

    "What if I can get you back on the team," Emily asked.

    "Would you agree to play nice with the coach?"

    "Don't go sucking up to that bastard on my

    behalf," I cautioned her. Frankly I didn't trust the pervert around her
    alone in some smelly office.

    "Oh, I'm not going to the coach; I'm going to the

    Chamber of Commerce," she grinned. I didn't know she was using the
    codename for the Dark Conspiracy that ruled this town. By Monday morning I was
    back on the team.

    (Next Friday Night)

    We'd stayed at the requisite victory part before I made my

    departure with Jamie and Emily. I'd been building up Emily as my social
    director, not my girlfriend. Even Emily seemed comfortable with her role. She
    kept me informed about who was doing what to whom and which football player I
    need to talk with. I was seen doing what she asked me to do so no one thought
    it odd when the three of us left together.

    There were five people in the establishment as the midnight

    hour drew near, and two of them, the waitress and the cook, were out on a smoke
    break. Emily thought nothing of it when Jamie sat beside her at the booth.
    Emily got off texting on her phone when I grabbed her attention.

    "Emily, what are we going to do about Blair?" I

    asked.

    "What?" she sputtered over her drink. "What

    do you mean?"

    "He's not in the picture and he's not going to be

    seriously in the picture before the end of the season. So, where are we going
    to stand between now and then?" I question her.

    "I ... wait ... no," Emily stammered. "Craig,

    you are my friend. I'm sorry if you thought of us in any other way."

    "I want to date you, even if it is just an act," I

    lied. I so seriously wanted to date her for real.

    "What about Jamie?" she said in a panicked voice

    and sent a pleading gaze toward Jamie.

    "I would want to date both of you," I responded.

    "I don't see why we can't work this out."

    "I'm okay with it if you are," Jamie offered as

    she put a hand over Emily's. Emily flushed a deep red and her breath caught.

    "I can't; I'm sorry but I can't," she panicked.

    "Let's take you home then," I suggested softly.

    Jamie immediately slid out of the booth allowing Emily to get some space and
    slide out too. I got up, paid for our drinks and proceeded to drive the girls'
    home. I was worried after Emily left, but Jamie was ecstatic. Personally I
    thought Jamie was delusional and that I'd sunk myself with Emily in this mad
    scheme.

    (Monday morning)

    Emily fell on me and Jamie as we hung outside the school

    entrance before school started with our normal scholastic crowd. She hurriedly
    motioned us aside. Jamie shot me a curious look. One we had some privacy Emily
    turned on us, nervous as hell.

    "Okay, I can do this, but there have to be some ground

    rules," she blurted out. I nearly fell over and I was stunned Jamie didn't
    do a 'happy dance'.

    "Those would be?" I managed to choke out without

    sounding too eager.

    "First off, Jamie and I would have to remain

    friends," Emily demanded. "I don't want people to think we are
    fighting over you. That wouldn't be fair," was Emily's reasoning. I looked
    to Jamie and we both nodded.

    "No sex. I'm saving myself for marriage. Blair played

    along with this and you should too. I will not be a sexual plaything,"
    Emily insisted. Jamie had the audacity to nod in agreement the conniving bitch
    (who I loved).

    "Can we live with this?" Emily said hopefully.

    "I have a counter-condition," I stated. Emily

    looked crestfallen. "I would like you to spend some private time with us.
    I don't care if we sit around, do homework, watch movies, or TV. I want some
    quality private time."

    "You promise to respect my person," Emily

    cautioned.

    "I swear to you that I won't make a single pass at you

    unless you come on to me first," I pledged. I carefully left Jamie out of
    that equation which had been the plan all along.

    "Deal!" Emily agreed. I shook her hand the Jamie

    followed suit. Emily left with a special spring in her step.

    "Jamie," I whispered out the side of my mouth,

    "if you break out into song I swear we are going straight to
    bondage." Jamie started whistling instead.

    (Two and a half weeks later)

    After 'my' latest win the local paper came up with my nickname.

    I was christened the 'Technician' for the precision way our offense marched
    down the field. We weren't all that flashy. No single player stood out as
    spectacularly above the others. We were a well-oiled machine and I was the
    technician that ran it (I know; how terribly catchy and original).

    That meant less to me the more we went into the season. I

    was having regular and spicy sex with Jamie. I was eternally grateful that her
    father didn't search her websites or cast a glance toward her personal library.
    Our biggest sexual hurdle turned out to be getting the credit card to order
    stuff online. I convinced my Mother to get me a bank card then paid off the
    credit charges with my allowance money.

    What did mean a great deal was that we'd navigated the stiff

    social waters that allowed Emily to hang out with us in a suggestive manner.
    Some people thought Emily was a promiscuous slut that was jumping from one QB
    to the next. Others thought I was the Man by doing two girls at the same time.
    I said the Emily and I were good friends which no one believed. After all, if I
    wasn't sleeping with her I had to be gay.

    That evening Jamie's dad had surrendered his private

    man-cave to the three of us. In theory we were watching some downloaded movies.
    After which I was to head home and Emily would be staying for a sleep over.
    Emily had virtually leapt at the opportunity. I'd had to raid my Mom's wardrobe
    to find something provocative for Jamie to wear. I didn't want to think why my
    Mom had all of that kind of sexy lingerie.

    Anyway, the three of us were sitting downstairs. I was on

    the sofa and Emily and Jamie were laying on their stomachs in front of me, feet
    up on the air and heads propped up on elbows as we watched the French version
    of La Femme Nikita. Emily sold it to us as a chic-empowerment flick. In the
    loosest definition of the term, she didn't lie.

    Emily was entranced by the action and Jamie rolls onto her

    side and gave me a look. My responsive gesture told her to go for it. Jamie
    reached out and put her hand on the small of Emily's back and got no response.
    Slowly Jamie moved her hand up and down, expanding her scope each time. Finally
    she stopped at Emily's ass and began massaging it.

    Emily made this adorable little purring noise and lowered

    her head onto her arms. When Jamie gave Emily's ass a good squeeze Emily's head
    suddenly snapped up. She looked to Jamie, to me, then back to Jamie. She was
    speechless. I pretended to watch the movie while Jamie smiled to Emily and went
    back to stroking her ass and lower back.

    Emily seemed totally lost between fear and arousal. Jamie

    scooted forward until her face was only inches away from Emily's. Emily closed
    her eyes and Jamie kissed her on her scrumptious full lips. Sometimes girls
    have all the fun. Emily moaned then shook herself.

    "I can't ..." she stammered.

    "With him?" Jamie indicated me. Emily's eyes got

    even wider but she finally acknowledged the distinction.

    "Craig, are you okay with it just being Emily and

    me?" Jaime demurred.

    "Of course. I want you and Emily to be happy," I

    smiled.

    "Craig ... I never meant to hurt you," Emily said

    fearfully. I shook my head.

    "Jamie has kept my eyes open from the beginning Emily.

    All I want is for us to remain friends," I confessed.

    "But then ..." Emily looked dumbfounded at Jamie.

    "You've been beautiful in my eyes since the first time

    we started to change for gym class Emily all those years ago. I never dreamed
    I'd have a chance with you until Craig entered my life," Jamie told her.
    Emily was almost at a loss for words.

    "I had no idea," Emily murmured.

    "Craig was the first person besides my Father to tell

    me I was pretty. He made me feel like I belonged anywhere besides my own dark
    world," Jamie explained.

    "Wait, you are boyfriend and girlfriend?" Emily

    asked.

    "Yes Emily; I'm bi-sexual. I gave Craig my virginity;

    he gave me his, and we've been having a lot of sex since then, but when I told
    him about you he convinced me to ... seduce you," Jamie winced worried
    what response she might get.

    "Wow Jamie, it was Craig who made me notice your attractiveness.

    I might never have woken up to how pretty you were if Craig hadn't brought you
    to practice," Emily gushed. Jamie didn't reply with words but instead ran
    her hand along the line of Emily's body.

    "Would you feel more comfortable if I left?" I asked

    softly. Emily looked to Jamie who only smiled.

    "Actually, I feel safe with Craig here. Jamie, you

    scare me," Emily said but I could see Jamie was hurt, "but only
    because I feel so strongly about you. I've been fighting these feelings for
    years. I've been afraid to give in; to admit to other people how I feel."
    Jamie's frown melted and she kissed Emily again. I dared not move.

    Jamie took Emily's hand, forcing Emily to turn onto her

    side, facing Jamie. Jamie placed that hand on her own breast and Emily instinctively
    squeezed it. Emily briefly pulled her hand back. I noticed that Jamie's nipple
    was painfully hard with arousal. Emily put her hand back and massaged and
    stroked the breast. Jamie bit her lip. Emily took the initiative and pushed
    Jamie to the ground and hovered over her. She sexually surged over Jamie with
    hands and lips letting loose years of sexual repression.

    Jamie soon matched Emily's intensity and worked off Emily's

    pink spaghetti top, letting her breasts spring free. Somehow they managed to
    get themselves into a sitting position and Jamie lost her top. They took turns
    fondling and suckling one another's breasts and moaning in pleasure. Neither
    one surrendered control so first one rose to dominance only to be overwhelmed
    by the others ministrations.

    Finally they parted for a much needed intake of breath.

    Watching the two sensual women gasping with their breasts rising and falling
    was very exciting, but I didn't want to come off the sofa and let my eighteen
    year old hormones take over. Emily fixed Jamie with a look of hunger and pushed
    Jamie down again.

    While she kissed Jamie's nipples, her hand went down to the

    short pajama bottoms and pushed them down. When the sexual dynamics became
    difficult, Jamie rose up and wiggled out of the bottoms. Now she was totally
    naked before her beautiful blonde lover. It didn't take fifteen seconds for
    Emily to reveal and revel in her total nakedness as well.

    I let out a low whistle. Jamie smiled while Emily gave me a

    more cautious glance.

    "You are both very beautiful, my ladies. If you would

    accept a piece of advice; tell each other what feels good and what you want to
    do. You are both very smart and can figure out what brings you the most
    pleasure." Did I just sound like a Cosmo advice column?

    "It works for Craig and me, "Jamie confessed.

    "I've done things I'd only dreamed about before. It allows us and explore
    without fear or regret." Jamie took a page from my book and touched Emily
    on her inner thigh right about the knee. Emily gave a slight gasp, standing
    very still. Jamie traced a line up higher until I could barely see it. Emily
    trembled.

    Jamie rubbed very slight along the labia. Emily pushed her

    body against Jamie's hand and Jamie purred as she moved her finger along the
    inner lips. Emily stole a look my way, uncertain and looking for affirmation of
    her actions. As I nodded a great weight lifted from her shoulders as she was
    free to be true to her desires for the first time in her life.

    Emily returned Jamie's actions and soon Jamie was squirming.

    Jamie pushed a finger into Emily

    0 min
  • Team Spirit: Part 1
    Team Spirit: Part 1 of 7
    High school football and romance with a twist.

    By FinalStand. Listen to the ►

    Podcast at Explicit
    Novels.



    Know who your friends are and why they are your

    friends.

    After my parent's divorce Mom and I moved around a good

    deal. I tried to get involved in school activities but all I was ever good at
    was computers and football, and football was how I normally got a foot in the
    door because I was more into weights and cross country running than being a
    geek.

    At my new school I opted to try out for quarterback for my

    senior year. I was fast and accurate and had a powerful arm. Unfortunately I
    wasn't tall, blonde and the popular senior. The coach liked the guy and if the
    other back-up quarterback had been able to hit a guy at fifteen yards I would
    have ended up as a half-back.

    I was a bit bitter. My mood wasn't improved by being

    assigned a tutor because the new school system felt my old school's curriculum
    wasn't up to par for their Gifted Program. By day two, everyone at school knew
    about by need for a tutor too. My tutor turned out to be a lanky anti-social
    nerd with glasses and a perpetual slouch. She'd done some kind of infraction (I
    suspected smoking weed) at the end of last year so she got the duty.

    Our first day together she was pleasantly surprised to see

    that I wasn't an idiot jock. We blew off the rest of our study period talking
    the merits of processor speeds and graphic cards. When she pulled her hair out
    of her eyes she was actually quite cute. When I told her so she blushed.
    Something told me she was a late bloomer.

    "So," I asked, "what do people do in this

    town on Friday nights?"

    "Oh, outside of football I guess they go to the movies

    or hang out at the Dairy Queen," she suggested.

    "Do you want to go out Friday?" I inquired. She

    looked stunned and stammered without saying anything.

    "Yes?" she got out.

    "Fine; what is your address. I'll pick you up at

    six-thirty," I said in an off-handed manner. She remained speechless for
    some time after she told me where she lived.

    So that was how Jamie Watts went out on her first date with

    me, Craig Dawkins. People made little snickering motions behind their hands at
    us so I countered them by putting my arm around Jamie. She didn't know how to
    take that. When she started to get upset by the attention we were getting I got
    her talking about her favorite Web comics. M nage a 3 duked it out with Sluggy
    Freelance and I couldn't shut her up after that.

    Saturday we went down by the lake and talked over blogs and

    who was who in the local geek community. We spent the rest of the afternoon
    going to the few electronics stores building our dream system in our heads.
    Jamie kissed me when I dropped her off. It turned out that when she stood up
    straight we were the same height (5'10"). She had really clear emerald
    green eyes. I don't think any guy had told her she was pretty before.

    Monday at practice I was teased about dating the 'Lich' as

    Jamie was known. I took it good-naturedly. I'm not one to force my preferences
    on other guys, no matter how stupid they act. Teasing me was fine. During the
    scrimmage I tried not to show Blair Woods, the star QB of our team, up to much
    because I still harbored the hope that I might play in the last quarter of our
    first game.

    Coach Ingersoll informed me that he would consider it since

    we were up against Hoover, the worst school in the league. The game was
    supposed to be a blowout, since we were considered one of the top three teams
    in the conference. I thought we had the talent, but I also thought we were
    sloppy. I had come from a much smaller school my sophomore and junior years
    where everyone had to play doubly hard to fulfill a roster.

    I also got to meet Emily Parker, the head cheerleader who

    was so stereotypically blonde, smoking hot, and bubbly that I expected to find
    a made by Mattel label on her back. She was (drum roll please) Blair's
    girlfriend. They were the 'it' couple and they had every reason to believe that
    all of high school life revolved around them. The only thing more stunning than
    Emily was that Emily was talking to Jamie when practice ended.

    What can I say; Emily was basically a nice person and now

    that Jamie was dating a football player, even a second string one, Emily was
    trying to bring Jamie into the football clich . Jamie babbled incoherently all
    the way to her house where we worked on homework until her Dad finally showed
    up from work around seven.

    It was clear he didn't know what to make of me either. I was

    a handsome man dating his daughter who he had resigned himself to being
    boy-free for all her high school years. When he found out my 'social status' at
    school he had to sit down. After making an excuse to get Jamie out of the room
    he leaned across the table in a conspiratorial way and said,

    "Are you using protection?" I found that kind of

    sad. His daughter wasn't a skank.

    "We haven't progressed that far," I nodded sagely,

    "but if we do I'll make sure to do the right thing." The father gave
    me this eager nod which was the first time I could even imagine a parent asking
    me to screw their offspring.

    My week pretty much went downhill from there. The other

    jocks learned I wasn't missing their classes; I was actually taking advanced classes
    which meant I actually knew some of the people they regularly look down on. I
    wasn't much into hazing or using my position on the team to get things. To the
    majority of the kids at school though I was still a jock-asshole, but there was
    a small group that gave me credit for more than two brain cells to rub
    together. I was eighteen and not on the first string so I figured college would
    have to come from academic achievement.

    Our game versus Hoover was nearly a disaster. We came to

    play the worst team in the conference. They came to destroy us and they damn
    near succeeded. The little bastards played their hearts out and had their
    running back been a second faster, they would have beaten us. As it was the
    game was seventeen to fourteen and wasn't decided until the last play of the
    game when Hoover failed to get the ball into the end zone.

    Our celebration was muted. Jamie and I went with the team

    out to the lake, but everyone knew we'd screwed up. Jamie took my hand and led
    me down to the water's edge and put an arm around me.

    "Don't be so angry," she told me. "Next time

    the coach will let you play."

    "Ha," I growled. "The next game is versus

    Panther Hill and they are the team to beat this year, and they are going to
    clean our clocks. Even if we make only half the mistakes we made tonight, they
    are going to kill us. I'm not used to playing somewhere things are 'good
    enough'. That's why I want to build a computer with you. Any idiot can buy one
    off the shelf. I want one that's going to do what I want it to do spending
    whatever I can give it."

    "Dad gave me a condom," Jamie whispered. "I'm

    a virgin."

    "So am I," I responded.

    "Really?" Jamie sounded perplexed.

    "Jamie, I'm eighteen and I've never stayed more than

    nine months in any given town. The only time I thought I might, Mom told me we
    were moving the next month so nothing happened."

    "I would have thought ... you are handsome, and a jock

    ..."

    "If it is any consolation I've killed millions of sperm

    cells looking over internet porn," I joked.

    "Oh gross," she giggled. "Remind me to never

    use your keyboard." I laughed at that too.

    The next Monday one of my team mates ragged on Jamie for

    being the Lich-slut. I stuffed him into the closest trash can and got sent to
    the Assistant Principal's office. I got a lecture about school spirit, team
    camaraderie, and not taking 'good natured' ribbing so poorly. I agreed with his
    reasoning. I told him in a good-natured voice that his wife one fine looking
    whore which earned me a day's worth of detention.

    Like all good secrets it was all over the school by the time

    I got to lunch. No one knew what to make of me yet again. The coach called me
    over and made up some crap about me being on detention for Tuesday would render
    me ineligible for play that Friday night. I took the news without comment.

    "What do you have to say about yourself?" he

    persisted.

    "You are the coach. If you say I can't play, I can't

    play. Do you want me to suit up?"

    "Suit up. Sitting on the sidelines might teach you

    something about being part of a team," he remarked. I wanted to ask him
    why Jamie doesn't deserve the basics of common courtesy and what that might do
    for my team spirit, and if that prick in the trash can had shown a little
    concern for me as a team mate we wouldn't even be having this discussion. I wanted
    to play; that was the bottom line.

    When I was walking back to the table that I shared with

    Jamie and some of the other advanced students Emily flagged me over. She was
    essentially the Queen of the school so I felt it is wise to obey.

    "I think you did a very noble thing," Emily

    declared loudly. "If someone called me a bad name I hope you would stuff
    them in a trash can too."

    Blair had his hand on Emily's thigh right at the edge of her

    skirt; a typical property move.

    "I'd do more than that to them," Blair joked;

    "besides it was only the Lich and we all know why he's dating her."

    "Take that back," I said in a very deadly tone.

    Things start getting quiet around us as Blair stood up. He had three inches on
    me, but we weighed about the same -- the weight lifting again.

    "Stuff it, second-stringer," Blair gloated.

    "You have five seconds before you wear my lunch,"

    I growled.

    "I'll bust up your face pipsqueak," he countered.

    "I'll settle for breaking your hand," I sneered.

    That took him aback because he realized I was not kidding. I'd ruin his whole
    damn career over a girl he barely knew existed.

    "No!" Emily insisted as she stood up. She picked

    up her tray in one hand and put the other on my bicep, steering me away from
    the confrontation.

    "Babe," Blair whined.

    "No," she repeated. "If you won't apologize

    to Jamie then I'm going elsewhere. Craig, where is your table? I'd like to
    finish my lunch in peace." I took her over to the geek table, did some
    introductions and we all sat down. It was clear that Emily hadn't talked to any
    of these people since grade school and equally clear they didn't mind.

    I got my ass handed to me at practice the Wednesday. It

    would appear that no one wants to block for me and the defense keeps forgetting
    this was a scrimmage. Blair was laughing it up, but Emily seemed beside
    herself. She ran water out to me twice as I was picking myself up off the
    ground; it seemed they also have forgotten to help me stand up after planting
    me in the field.

    "I'm so sorry," Emily said quietly. I laughed loud

    and hard.

    "If this is the best our defensive line can do, Panther

    Hill's offense is going to bury them in our end zone -- repeatedly." I
    wanted those pansies to hear me. On the next play they double-teamed my smack
    down so I made a point of leaping back to my feet.

    I caught up with my assailants, patted them on the back, and

    wished them better luck next time. I ran the ball for fifteen yards on the next
    play. The coach screamed at me for not following the play he'd sent in. I
    agreed to be a good boy. Next play I ran for seven yards and got out of bounds
    -- where they buried me; in a real game that would be a fifteen yard penalty,
    but who was counting. The coach benched me and Blair went back in. They handled
    him like he was porcelain.

    At the end of practice Jamie helped me off the field. Emily

    stormed off the moment the cheer squad was dismissed causing Blair to shoot
    hate my way. Jamie got to see me in my underwear when she came to my house and
    rubbed me down. I was not thinking about sex and I hoped she wasn't because at
    that moment breathing hurt.

    The next day Emily made a point of finding me between

    classes and seeing how I was. Everyone else in the school was aware of my feud
    with the entire football team and treated me like I had the plague. When I got
    to lunch Jamie was shaken up and had been crying. Emily saw her distress and
    popped over to see what she could do.

    It seemed that three of my team mates cornered Jamie between

    classes and touched her. Emily wanted to go to a teacher. I wanted to know who
    they were. Jamie described them and Emily gave them names. Emily told me I
    Iooked like a dark storm front moving across the horizon. Jamie didn't deserve
    my grief and I had little trust in the facility to turn on the football team.

    The coach unwittingly gave me my chance at the first S O B

    on my second play in during practice. The grinning buffoon came into the huddle
    and gave me a wink -- idiot. I ran my play, which was short, sweet and painful
    for me. At least some of the players were trying to do their jobs today. I got
    the idiot back in the huddle and faster than most of them can see; I stepped up
    and nailed him in the nuts as if I was trying to kick a fifty yard field goal.

    The idiot grunted and stumbled forward once his feet touched

    the ground again. I grabbed him by his face mask and kept him from falling
    over.

    "This bastard touched Jamie. If any of you have a

    problem with this, I've got more where that came from," I snarled like a
    cornered wolverine. No one said anything.

    "You are going to run this play and then you are going

    to leave the field," I told the idiot. "Until you beg Jamie for
    forgiveness in a public place, don't get into a huddle with me -- clear!"
    He nodded weakly.

    Two plays later, asshat number two came within my sights. I

    accidently stiffed armed him in the throat so hard he temporarily lost the
    power of speech. The next play I hit the lead assailant so hard in the head
    with the football it knocked him off his feet. I still got buried though this
    is again a penalty in normal play. I nailed him twice more before the coach
    figured out that there was nothing wrong with my aim.

    On the sidelines with the guy who had trouble talking I gave

    him the same speech; I'd keep coming for him until he publically apologized to
    Jamie. Before the end of practice Mr. Football-to-the-Head wobbled over to me.

    "You fucker, you are going to pay," he said as he

    punched a finger into my chest. I noted the coach caught this but was doing
    nothing.

    "You'll find me a bit tougher than a scared little

    girl, you cocksucker," I seethed. "I see you are already feeling
    fucked up. I've been taking your shit, and everyone else's shit for two days
    now and I can't wait for tomorrow. Do you really think I'm afraid of someone
    who can't even face me in public but has to hide behind the coach?"

    I glared unmitigated malice at him. For the first time since

    he laid eyes on me the bastard was uncertain. "Apologize publically to
    Jamie and I will stop kicking your ass. Get some of your buddies to jump me in
    the parking lot and I will take particular pleasure in busting your knee."

    I grabbed him by the face mask and shook the bigger man's

    head.

    "There are forty-seven of you and one of me; what have

    I got to lose?" I let go of his helmet and he walked away muttering.

    Jamie wasn't there, but Emily made a point of pissing Blair

    off by walking me to my car. I imagine she thought she was some sort of
    protection. No one showed up to teach me what was what. I stopped by Jamie's
    house and we talked about normal kid stuff. No one talked about the serious
    events of the day.

    The next day a football player in a raspy voice came up to

    Jamie and apologized for whatever in the hallway between classes. Nut-shot guy
    didn't show up for school, or for the game. The last guy was being a dick.
    Jamie sat behind me at the Spirit Rally and put a hand on my shoulder while
    Blair and Emily acted the role of King and Queen.

    Our game started out almost as bad as I feared. Panther Hill

    got the ball first and drove into our end zone in seven plays. Blair got
    everyone psyched up and led the Offense onto the field. On the first play they
    nearly got him but Blair got the ball away. We ran it on the second down for a
    grand total of one yard.

    On the third down we went for a screen play but someone blew

    through the lines and hit Blair low and hard right as he gave the ball up. They
    recovered the fumble and the crowd was moaning. Things immediately got worse.
    Everyone with eyes could tell that a leg wasn't supposed to bend to the side
    like that. Blair was screaming and even before the coach could move the EMT
    team was scrambling to get Blair.

    Emily and two of her cheerleader friends went onto the field

    but the coach had the presence of mind to have some players pull them back.
    Blair was taken away, the game settled down into some semblance of order, and
    the penalty was assessed. Most of the fans on our side thought it was a
    deliberate move on Panther Hill's part. Coach came back, glared and tossed me
    the ball.

    "Don't lose the damn game," he snapped. Considering

    I hadn't even been allowed to warm up, I found small comfort in his sterling
    opinion of me. The coach sent in a play-action fake, right out of our playbook.
    I groaned because I had a feeling Panther Hill knew what I knew and that was
    never a good thing.

    I stood at the line, took one look at the defense and went

    audible. Several of my players shifted uncomfortable. It was a miracle we
    didn't get called for 'off-sides'. Panther Hill was ready for the 'play action'
    with only five men rushing and all my wide receivers and corner backs running
    hell for leather down field. My center was really good at his job.

    I cradled the ball and cut through the middle. One

    defenseman almost got me then I was free for eight or nine yards. I'm fast,
    just not running back fast. Two of their secondary fell on me like a ton of
    bricks but after that week's practice I was used to it. They clubbed me to the
    ground at the eleven yard mark. I was pulling grass out of my helmet, but I'd
    done the job.

    With the next play the coach sent it was a lethal warning to

    stick to the game plan. The coach wanted as to run because we always ran at
    first and whatever when we were at mid-field -- always. I drilled a
    wide-receiver with a pass on the right side which he dropped. Had he kept it, it
    would have taken us over to Panther Hill's side of the field.

    The next guy who came in told me the coach was apoplectic,

    and I was not even sure the football player or the coach knew what it meant. We
    were to do a pass to the right side. Second and nothing, we always pass. I
    passed but put it right up the middle. I hit the guy so hard he fell over,
    covering an extra two yards. Now we were at third and two.

    When the coach's guy came in I didn't even bother. I dropped

    it into Mark Quantrill's hands at twenty-two yards out and he ran in for the
    touchdown. When I got to the bench the coach told me I was done. He warmed up
    the replacement-replacement, Wilcox. A series of downs later the score was 21-7
    against us and the coach put me back in. The coach had the sportsman's ethics
    of a weasel.

    When I got back in the huddle everyone was grinning at me.

    "Gentleman, let's go to war!" I declared. Of

    course, it sounded cool, but all of us could only do so much. In the end, it was
    our defense that won the game. After half-time they only gave up three points.
    We scored three more touchdowns because we really did have the talent this
    year, not because my ego carried the day.

    When the clock wound down, our fans flooded the field. The

    first person to me was the coach who warned me that if I was to have any future
    with the team I had to see him first thing in the morning. He didn't like the
    smile I gave him. I didn't care. I was looking for Jamie. I noticed that Emily
    wasn't around but I figured she was on her way to the hospital to see Blair.

    Jamie found me and threw her arms around me. It was the

    heady aphrodisiac of martial conquest, or so I told myself. Right after my
    first French kiss with her, A large hand touched my shoulder. It was Mr.
    Football-to-the-Head.

    "Sorry," he muttered. Jamie nodded her

    understanding then returned her attentions to me.

    "Let's get out of here," she shouted. I looked at

    my crummy, sweaty football gear but followed along anyway.

    "I need to change," I begged.

    "You aren't

    0 min
  • Portmanteau: More Than a Feeling: Part 4

    Portmanteau: More Than a Feeling: Part 4Conclusion of Sister Golden Hair and Long Cool Woman In A Black Dress. Journeys and choices.

    Based on a post by Wendy Trilby, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.



    The

    next day, Mary Margaret found herself near the art department of the
    Liberal Arts wing. She found Sister Grace's classroom and peered in,
    only to see Sister Andrea leading the class. Confused, she entered.

    "I'm looking for Sister Grace. She had some notes for me on a project."

    "Sister Grace resigned the order this morning, my dear," the older nun replied. "She's leaving us."

    Kaylin, a short-haired freshman, added nervously, "I saw her with her bags heading to the main entrance like 10 minutes ago."

    Mary Margaret quickly left, hoping to find Sister Grace before she was gone.

    On

    her way to the main building, she passed the old dorm, where, 24 hours
    earlier, she had made love to a woman for the first time. Rather than
    continue to the main building, she detoured.

    Sister

    Grace stood on the steps of St. Magnus with all her worldly possessions
    in a single suitcase. She wore jeans, Keds, and a Red Sox sweatshirt,
    which made her look more like a student than a young teacher.

    A

    taxi pulled up. The cabbie stepped out and took her bags to the trunk.
    She was about to get in when a tap on the shoulder stopped her.

    Turning, she saw Mary Margaret behind her.

    "I hear you're leaving."

    "I am."

    "Not even a goodbye?"

    "I didn't want it to get weird."

    "You're not leaving because of yesterday?" Mary Margaret asked.

    "Yes

    and no. Not because of what we did. And yes, because of what we did. I
    discovered a part of me that I thought was dead and buried. Whatever
    drove me into your arms made me throw years of repressing emotion away;
    whatever that was, I want more. I won't find it here."

    "But I'm here."

    "For

    a few more weeks, then what? You have a journey ahead of you, and so do
    I. Who knows if that means our paths will cross again? I hope they do.
    But let's see what time brings," Grace said with a lilt of sadness.

    "Where are you off to?" Mary Margaret asked.

    "Not sure. Somewhere in New England. Somewhere with open-minded people where I can explore the land and myself."

    "I

    have something for you. Open it when you get there," Mary Margaret
    said, handing Sister Grace a cardboard tube with the ends taped shut.

    "Goodbye, Sister."

    "Monica. My given name is Monica. Not Sister Grace, Not Sister Lady Gaga, just Monica.

    "Goodbye, Monica."

    Mary Margaret gave Monica a genial kiss on the cheek and watched her get in the cab and drive away.

    A

    month later, after stopping in several small towns around New England,
    Monica fell in love with Portland, Maine, with its coastal beauty and
    quaint downtown.

    She

    felt free in the vast expanses and ready to start her life anew.
    Getting a job in an artist's co-op, she unpacked her bags in her
    first-ever apartment.

    She finally took the time to open the cardboard tube that Mary Margaret had presented her when she left St. Magnus.

    Before

    her lay The Peaceable Kingdome painting that had long been ignored at
    St. Magnus. She spread it out on the table and she smiled.

    Days

    later, matted and framed, she hung the purloined painting on a wall
    that received warm afternoon daylight. She sat back to appreciate the
    painting, the optimism it depicted, her new free life, and the erotic
    fond memory of the young woman who gave her all three.

    37 min
  • Portmanteau: More Than a Feeling: Part 3

    Portmanteau: More Than a Feeling: Part 3Sister Golden Hair. Journeys and choices.

    Based on a post by Wendy Trilby, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.



    Grace

    exited the bathroom carrying her shower kit and tiptoed quickly through
    the empty hallway to her small room. Once inside, she shut the door and
    pulled the lone desk chair to the door, wedging it tight so no one
    could enter.

    Outside, the afternoon sun filtered through the window, so she quickly drew the shades, careful not to be seen.

    The room was sparse, with a wardrobe, a twin bed, a desk, a chair, and little else. Above her bed was a framed picture of Jesus.

    Carefully she reached under her mattress and pulled out a glossy magazine with the bold title of Cunt Hunter,

    featuring a vintage photo of a woman reeling back in ecstasy as a hairy
    mustachioed man plants his cock deep inside her very hairy cunt. The
    magazine seemed to be from the 70s, but that was hardly a concern for
    her.

    Sitting

    on the bed, she opened her robe slightly, then held the magazine with
    one hand and slid her other hand down her flat stomach until it met the
    curls of her thick, strawberry blond, pubic hair.

    Like

    the woman in the magazine, Grace's pussy was a tangle of hair, unkempt
    and wild. The darkness made the sweet pinkness of her inner folds more
    evident as she ran her fingers up and down her slit finding her clit and
    circling it while studying the crude and dated porn magazine.

    She

    continued to caress herself, turning page after page, examining the
    increasingly intense stages of awkward sexual fucking. The photo story
    turned interesting when a second woman entered the adventure. The worn
    nature of the magazine hinted that these were the pages Grace loved best
    as she increased her self-stimulation. Plunging several fingers into
    her virgin clutch, she became lost in her rising orgasm.

    A

    sudden knocking on the door put an abrupt end to the pleasure, and
    Grace sat up in fear. She quickly placed the magazine under the
    mattress, quietly moved the chair, and opened the door to find a nun,
    Sister Teresa, waiting patiently.

    "Sister

    Grace, Mother Superior has asked that you come to the school and help
    the students. She's worried about some of the troublemakers."

    "Of course, Sister. I just showered, so allow me to dress, and I'll be there soon."

    "She

    asked that you patrol the old dormitory and the library. I'm going to
    be locking classrooms. It's the usual suspects you should be on the
    lookout for." With that, Sister Teresa left.

    Sister

    Grace looked around her tiny room and at the open doors of the lone
    wardrobe in the corner. Inside hung her black habit and on a shelf the
    few civilian clothes that remained from when she joined the order six
    years ago.

    Dropping

    her robe, she looked at the painting of Jesus as she dressed and moved
    the wardrobe door so he could not see her nude body.

    She

    held up her old Red Sox sweatshirt, remembering her days at Fenway.
    However, the Holy Cross congregation did not approve of such frivolous
    activities. She finished dressing and went outside to meet the day.

    It

    was the day of the Senior Picnic, an annual ritual at St. Magnus, when
    classes were canceled, and the students gathered on the campus grounds
    for food and games. Fun for the students but a high-alert moment for the
    school staff and the nuns who help run the place. Young Catholics have a
    way of seeking out venial sins.

    Sister

    Grace removed her robe, leaving her naked. Her skin was milky white,
    having never seen the sun since she entered the order six years ago at
    eighteen. She was average in height and thin, with a flat stomach and
    exceptionally large tits, which would have turned heads in any outfit
    other than a nun's habit.

    Without

    her nun's habit, she looked like a California beach girl sans tan but
    with beautiful, healthy blond hair. Relegated to never wearing shorts,
    let alone a bathing suit, her pubic hair was an unkempt, wild tangle
    with a light, happy trail leading to her navel and curls inside her
    thighs. Looking at her bedraggled pussy, one might think it was 1974 all
    over again down there, but that was 40 years ago.

    Sister

    Grace closed her eyes to enjoy the moment of freedom with herself and
    her body. Looking in the mirror, she admired herself, then went to the
    wardrobe and dressed. First, a no-frills bra that over-supported her
    large tits pressing them tight against her body. The order frowned upon
    showing any shape, so the bras were industrial and tight, and the
    underwear bulky.

    Slipping

    on the robes and head covering, she finished the outfit off with the
    wimple that surrounded her face in white and the veil of black and white
    that let anyone around know this woman was a nun.

    Despite

    being inside Boston city limits, the campus of St. Magnus was large and
    sprawling, with several buildings, playing fields, a cathedral, and a
    convent. The students, girls in plaid dresses and boys wearing jackets
    and ties, were participating in games or grabbing lunch and finding a
    place to sit and enjoy the beautiful spring day. Teachers,
    administrators, and several of the nuns were either taking part or
    keeping a watchful eye out for mischief.

    Sister

    Grace walked toward the old dorm, pausing to look at the tall buildings
    of downtown Boston that were only a few blocks away. Her eyes could not
    avoid seeing the ornate brick and iron fence surrounding the campus.
    While this was a venerated learning institution to most, it was a prison
    to Sister Grace.

    Entering

    St. Hildegard Hall, she paused to look at a large painting of animals
    sitting on a wooded hillside. Entitled the Peaceable Kingdom, the Hicks
    painting had been donated by a billionaire alumnus. Now, it sat
    unappreciated in the hallway of a convent dormitory that had been closed
    for several years. Sister Grace felt sad that the beautiful painting
    remained unappreciated in the dusty building that no one had ever lived
    in or visited.

    Her gaze on the painting was interrupted by the whispers of voices coming from down the hallway. She thought, whomever it was better have a good reason for being here, and crept toward the sound.

    0 min
  • Portmanteau: More Than a Feeling: Part 2

    Portmanteau: More Than a Feeling: Part 2Diamonds Are Forever. Journeys and choices.

    Based on a post by Wendy Trilby, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.



    Well, that was fucked, the

    dark-haired woman thought as she ran through the doors of Christie's
    Auction House on Boston's fashionable Newbury Street. No sooner had she
    exited the building when alarms sounded. So fucked.

    Wearing

    a black Dolce and Gabbana double-breasted trench coat, which matched
    her jet-black hair, she walked fast with purpose toward a parked Tesla,
    clicking the remote. The car started, and the gullwing driver's door
    automatically opened.

    Stick to the plan, she thought.

    Moments

    earlier, the 3-minute countdown began when her gun came out. Clockwork.
    The guards walked the Red Scarlet to the auction room down an empty
    hallway; a quick and silent zap with the stun gun. The jolt was a lot,
    but they needed to stay down.

    The

    box was grabbed, opened, the necklace removed, slipped between her
    tits, and secured by her bra. Quick and easy. One minute to go.

    A brisk walk to the exit. Too easy. Alarms blared. Shit, they found the guards.

    The

    lobby was chaos as security guards tried to lock the doors. Blending in
    with the crowd of auction attendees, she needed to get to the doors
    before they secured. She needed a distraction. Pulling the trigger on
    the tiny Baretta secluded in her right hand, she fired into the floor.
    The loud report of the gun sent people running and screaming.

    "They've

    shot the guards," she screamed. The room became chaos, and she slyly
    joined the surge of the auction house patrons as they pushed through the
    doors and outside.

    Three minutes over budget, but since she was about to get in the car, the extra time was a moot point.

    It was not.

    From

    around the corner, several police cars streamed onto the scene, blue
    lights flashing. The thief walked past the Tesla and headed for the
    subway station half a block ahead.

    She was just 100 yards from the subway entrance when a squad car blocked the entry.

    Stay coo l, she repeated in her head. Panic kills.

    She

    looked around at the trendy shops in the area and then noticed a chic
    hair salon, Hannah and Her Scissor Sisters, at the basement level of the
    fancy brownstone shops. Heading down the stairs away from the action,
    she entered the salon, locking the door behind her.

    Kaylin

    McCardle was swiping left on a dating app, cringing at each personality
    she found when she saw the woman hurry into the salon and lock the door
    behind her.

    "I'm Sorry," Kaylin said. We don't take walk-ins, so you'll need to call or go online to make an appointment."

    "Close this place for the rest of the day. I'll pay you $1,000 to close it," the woman said.

    "I can't ...$1,000? You'll pay me $1,000 to close?" Kaylin asked, unsure if she heard right.

    The negotiation ended when the woman pulled out a handgun and held it to Kaylin.

    "Ok, yeah, sure, we're closed," Kaylin stated.

    "Move

    away from the door and windows," the woman said, guiding Kaylin to the
    back of the salon out of view of the front of the shop.

    In

    the light, Kaylin noticed her striking features. Sculpted cheekbones
    and dark glasses set against alabaster skin contrasted with her long
    jet-black hair.

    As

    the woman headed to the back, Kaylin noticed the blue strobe lights of
    squad cars through the window that looked up to the sidewalk.

    "Something going on out there?" Kaylin asked.

    "Nothing you need to worry about."

    "And here you are with a gun, and I'll stop talking now," Kaylin replied.

    "Wise idea. I have no problem with you. I need to lie low, and then I'll go. Get me a garbage bag."

    Kaylin

    grabbed a garbage bag from the shelf. Then she turned back to see the
    dangerous stranger had taken off her black leather trench coat revealing
    a skintight Furstenberg mini long sleeved cross over ribbed top with a
    cold shoulder that descended to a V below her cleavage, offering an
    eye-popping view of the curvature of her large round tits

    43 min
  • Portmanteau: More Than a Feeling: Part 1
    Portmanteau: More Than a Feeling: Part 1I'm On Fire. Journeys and choices.

    Based on a post by Wendy Trilby, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.



    Author’s note: This is an installment in the anthology series entitled ‘Portmanteau.’ Each vignette of Portmanteau is a multi-part series. A collection of three stand-alone erotic short stories, all loosely associated with each other.

    Colin arrived in Boston, set up his on-the-go office in the Ritz Carlton, and then headed to Tufts University to give a guest lecture. He had dinner plans with Mayla for later that night and found himself distracted in anticipation of their first-ever meeting in person.

    He finished reading her latest pages on the flight and was astounded by her ability to craft erotica. Unbridled and feral, her writing was the opposite of Monique Labelle's meandering, sad attempt at erogenous drivel. Mayla's work held pure passion, and pure passion sold books.

    Colin was on a lecture hall stage, being interviewed by a professor about publishing, how to write your first novel and the future of the print medium. When asked his thoughts on publishing erotic work, Colin replied, "Good question, Mayla." The interviewing Professor stopped and asked him who Mayla was.

    Catching himself, Colin apologized and rephrased the statement to say, "Good question, Professor Matalin."

    In the darkness of the lecture hall, Mayla reacted at hearing her name uttered as a Freudian slip. She blushed and looked around as if all eyes were on her.

    The lecture ended, and Colin was saying a few goodbyes when he spotted an attractive, tall woman walking into view. She wore a long, cool black dress with a sleeveless top showing off well-toned arms. Her youthful glow made it difficult to guess her age.

    "Mayla!"

    "Hello, Colin."

    "You came to my lecture. I'm delighted," the handsome publisher said.

    "I thought I could learn something, and I did. You missed your calling as a teacher."

    "It's such a pleasure to meet you in person. Zoom meetings can only tell so much. You're so much more”

    "Taller," she said, finishing his sentence.

    "Well, yes. I knew you had been a model, so no surprise there."

    "You're not one of those guys with issues with tall girls?"

    "Never," Colin stated, "Are we still on for dinner, or do you have plans?"

    "Looking forward to it," she replied, bringing a smile to Colin's face.

    Dinner was in a small Italian place in Boston's North End. Plates of pappardelle and an empty bottle of chianti set the relaxed tone.

    "I've never seen someone as fit as you eat an entire plate of pasta," Colin remarked.

    "In my runway days, never, but now the waif look is long behind me. My ex wanted me to stay sickly thin. It was strange, but so was he."

    "Divorced?"

    "Never married. We were together for 15 years. I was doing catalog and runway work in Los Angeles, and he promised me more. It came at a price. And it got weird."

    "Weird?" Colin asked.

    "Very weird. He became obsessed with my left nipple."

    "We can change the subject," Colin offered.

    "No, it's in the past," she replied.

    "Ok, I don't mean to be forward, but you can't simply introduce something about a left nipple and then walk away from the conversation."

    "My left nipple never gets hard. Never erect, never pert, never sassy, none of the nipple adjectives," Mayla said without fear of embarrassment.

    "And your right one does?"

    "Yes, running, massage, touch, sex, that nipple knows when and how to do its job. Damned good soldier. Lefty here, total slacker, almost cost me a career."

    40 min
  • Portmanteau – A New York State of Mind: Part 3

    Portmanteau – A New York State of Mind: Part 3The Long and Winding Road: Arriving at Honesty.How Grant found lasting love with Beth.

    Based on a post by Wendy Trilby, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.



    Hey

    Grant, since we're telling some stories, let’s play a game. An
    icebreaker. We do this at conferences: two truths and a lie. We tell two
    true facts and one lie. Whoever guesses the most correctly is the
    winner."

    "What do we win, Beth?" Grant asked.

    Beth looked around. "Underwear," she whispered flatly.

    "Underwear? Like one of us has to buy the other underwear?"

    "Not

    buy, just take off what you have and surrender to the other. You win; I
    give you my intimates. I win; you give me your underwear. You are
    wearing underwear, right?"

    "Yes, I am."

    "Then it's agreed. Gotta have high stakes or the game has no risk.

    "You bet underwear at conferences?" Grant queried.

    "No,

    but we should," she shot back. "I'll go first. One of these things is a
    lie. My husband asked to be buried with his baseball card collection.
    Instead, when he died, I sold it for $125,000."

    Grant was intrigued. "Why did he”

    Beth put up a finger to stop him. "No questions. Two more. I've never had anal sex."

    Grant swallowed hard as the conversation had just taken an unexpected turn, but that was always a thing with Beth.

    "And number three, I like to swallow at the end of a blow job. Absolutely love it."

    Grant's head was swimming as he stammered to reply, "I did not expect this game to go there."

    "Makes

    it more fun if you throw in some sex stuff," Beth said, holding a poker
    face. "People always try to imagine other people's sex lives, so when
    you put it on the table in a game like this, it confuses. Your turn."

    "Let's see," Grant thought for a beat. "One, I am unemployed. Two, I had sex with my college freshman roommate's mom."

    Beth's eyes lit up, "Barry Weckenstein's mom?"

    "And three, Melody and my secretary offered me three-way. I declined."

    "I'll

    guess first," Beth stated. "You're wearing a $1,000 watch and dressed
    in Brooks Brothers; I don't think you're unemployed. The college
    roommate mom thing? When? Where? So many moving parts to the story. I
    would say it's a lie. However, that means you are unemployed, which you
    are not."

    "The

    three-way? I can in no way believe you turned it down. No guy turns
    down a three-way, especially when his wife offers and participates, and
    the third is a female. The secretary was a woman, right?"

    Grant nodded affirmatively.

    "Oh boy. Okay, the Unemployment and the roommate's mom thing are true."

    "Final answer?" Grant asked.

    Beth nodded.

    "So

    close. The three-way offer was true. I passed. Melody was the type to
    use sex as a weapon. I didn't want to give her something for her
    arsenal, although I still have some regrets, but no, no three-way. Also,
    I really am unemployed."

    "So, you banged your roommate's mom?" Beth sought clarification. "You had sex with Barry Weckenstein's mother?"

    "Yes,

    she showed up in my dorm room, and it was this crazy Mrs. Robinson
    thing. The story gets even crazier. I'll need a few more drinks before I
    can retell it."

    "Can't believe I got one wrong," Beth declared. "Must be the cocktails. Your turn."

    48 min
  • Portmanteau – A New York State of Mind: Part 2

    Portmanteau – A New York State of Mind: Part 2Then He Kissed Me.How Grant found lasting love with Beth.

    Based on a post by Wendy Trilby, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.



    The

    New York Times business section bullpen was rather busy for a Saturday
    afternoon. Wall Street had been volatile this week, so every reporter
    was hard at work trying to file a story by the 4 PM deadline for the
    Sunday paper. Ethan Reese was running a grammar check on his article
    when two colleagues walked through the writers' bullpen.

    Aryanna and her boyfriend Wecks chatted with fellow reporters, then stopped off at Ethan's desk.

    "Busy

    week for you finance guys," Wecks smirked, "try being on the sports
    desk. It's like this every day. The only thing harder is being in the
    game itself."

    Wecks

    was a tall, handsome sports reporter who played lacrosse in college for
    a D1 program and liked to make sure everyone knew it. Aryanna smiled
    and reached for a pen on Ethan's desk.

    "Do you have a post-it note?" she asked.

    Ethan handed her a post-it pad while hitting the send button on his computer.

    "The weekend has begun," Ethan proclaimed and started to organize his desk for a quick escape.

    "Hey, me and Jazz are going to Happy Hour at The Yard House," Wecks declared.

    Wecks

    called Aryanna "Jazz" after princess Jasmine from the Aladdin movie due
    to her exotic Persian looks, from her voluptuous body to her brown
    almond-shaped eyes, but those descriptions were just skin deep. She had a
    pleasantness about her, like walking outside on a warm summer day. Time
    with her was as wonderful as good weather.

    "Sounds great. I'll meet you guys down there, Ethan replied.

    "Great," declared Aryanna.

    Wecks

    took Aryanna's hand and started leading her out. With her free hand,
    Aryanna casually handed Ethan a folded post-it note. "See you at The
    Yard House," she said with a coy smile.

    Ethan

    held the yellow note watching Aryanna as she left. She was wearing an
    oversized sweater hiding her voluptuous tits. The top stopped short
    enough to allow an unobstructed view of her skintight yoga pants, which
    showed every detail of her legs, perfect hips, and insanely tight ass.

    The

    phone rang, and Ethan grabbed it. Taking a few notes, he hung up and
    reached for his jacket. Only then did he remember the post-it note.

    Unfolding it, he read the following: Can we have sex?

    Ethan

    froze. He looked around to see who might have noticed his reaction. No
    one. He then stuffed the note in his shirt pocket and stood. His heart
    was racing, and his breath was short. He needed a drink of water fast.
    He went to the water cooler and filled a cup.

    He took the note out of his pocket. Certainly, he had read it wrong. He looked again: Can we have sex? Confirmed.

    He

    drank back the water and put the note back in his pocket again. Then
    took it out one more time just in case he had read it wrong the first
    two times. Can we have sex? It still read.

    The

    Yard House was packed as usual with the young crowd from the Times.
    Drinks were flowing, and the conversations were about work. Ethan
    entered and looked around. He knew a lot of the crowd, so he made sure
    to chat up people as he looked for Aryanna and Wecks. Finding them at a
    large table with several other reporters, Ethan slipped into the seat
    across from Aryanna.

    The waitress came by to get Ethan's drink order. "He's going to have the elderflower paloma," Aryanna shouted, "One for me too."

    Aryanna wrote for the infamous travel section of the Times and always knew the right thing to order.

    Wecks

    sat down next to Aryanna, nursing a beer. "Did she order you a fru fru
    drink?" he asked. "Always orders something I can't pronounce, but if
    it's not beer, it's not going here," he said, pointing at his stomach.
    "Hey babe, Kenny's got Knicks tix, so I'll be out late tonight. You cool
    about it? Sure, you are."

    Aryanna smiled as she played with her thick black long hair.

    "No worries, I've got a project to work on, so, yeah, enjoy."

    Wecks then turned to talk to his crew as Aryanna looked across at Ethan, trying to get a read.

    "The thing you asked about, the question," he began, "I think it could work."

    46 min
  • Adventures of Big Mike: Part 5
    Adventures of Big Mike: Part 5
    As if two Milf's weren't enough, the 23 year old daughter joins in.

    Based

    on the post by m_storyman_x . Listen to the ► podcast at Explicit Novels.

     


     

    The sun

    was streaming into the room when I felt my cock being gently sucked to life by
    a soft mouth. It only took me a few moments to realize that Linda was working
    me to hardness, Nancy still sleeping next to me.

    "It's

    been so long since I was able to wake up to a hard dick." Linda whispered
    while I looked over at the clock displaying seven thirty.

    "I

    see," I replied as she climbed on top of me and moved her legs on each
    side of my hips. She scooted up enough to reach behind her and rub my now hard
    dick around her lips and then slid down the bed again, pushing my dick into her
    pussy.

    "Oh

    yes. That's what I need," she cooed as she began to ride up and down my
    shaft.

    "Couldn't

    wait, huh," My wife asked sleepily as she rolled over and rested her head
    on my chest, watching Linda ride up and down my dick.

    "Not

    my idea." I whispered as Linda groaned in pleasure, reaching for my hands
    and pulling them toward her tits.

    I played

    with her tits for only a few minutes before Nancy sat up enough to suck one of
    her tits into her mouth.

    "Oh

    god!" Linda cried as she rode me harder, her body slamming down onto my
    legs with each stroke.

    "Mother

    is that you?" I heard Emily call out from the other room before she
    stepped into the bedroom, the door standing wide open. "Holy shit!"

    "Oh,

    fuck!" Linda cried, her whole body shaking and trembling as her orgasm
    washed over her. Finally she turned and looked over her shoulder at her
    daughter while my wife lay her head back against my chest.

    "Um,

    Am I to guess you three slept together last night?"

    "Uh

    huh. Miss Nancy figured out what was going on at the lake. Long story short, we
    played all night and slept together."

    "Um.

    Ok." She said, a bit of fear creeping into her eyes.

    "Yes

    Emily. I know that you and my husband had sex. No I am not angry with you. I
    know how much a set of full breasts turn him on, Do you want to join us?"

    "Now?"

    "Unless

    you have something else to do."

    "Well,

    mom and I were supposed to go shopping, but, well, "

    "Come

    on. Take off your clothes. I want to see what he got so turned on over."

    "Mother,"

    Emily said, looking at her mom roll off my hard dick?

    "Up

    to you, but I think it's a now or never proposition."

    "It

    is," My wife said quietly. "He promised to never have sex with either
    of you unless I'm there too. I expect him to keep that promise."

    "Ok,"

    she said, staring at my glistening dick while she quickly unbuttoned her shirt.
    She pulled it off and tossed it on the bed as she undid her nursing bra,
    letting her large milk filled tits swing free.

    "I

    can see why he was turned on," my wife said, gently squeezing one of my
    nipples while Em pushed her shorts and underwear down.

    Now

    naked, Emily climbed up the bed, not sure where to go.

    "Why

    don't you go ahead and finish what your mom started?" My wife said, gently
    stroking my pussy juice covered dick.

    "You

    sure?"

    "Uh

    huh. I want to see what he saw when you came and made him cum."

    "Ok,"

    she said with a grin, climbing up my body until she was kneeling over my hips.
    She rubbed the head of my dick around her lips, spreading her mother's pussy
    juices and my pre-cum around her lips. "Oh yes." She cooed as she
    pressed down on me, pushing my dick up into her. "I can't believe I'm
    doing this in front of both of you," she panted as she reached bottom.

    "God

    you look hot doing that," My wife said as she watched her slowly stroke up
    and down my shaft. "I don't want you to cum. Save it for me, ok?" She
    whispered in my ear. "I am so fucking horny now I gotta have you fuck
    me."

    "Uh

    huh." I said, trying to think about anything but the dribbles of milk that
    were shaking from her tits and landing on my stomach. I lay there while she
    rode me, slowly working up toward her climax.

    "Oh

    god. I don't know if I can." I panted, trying hard not to cum as Emily's
    tits squirted a stream of milk across my chest.

    "You

    will if you know what's good for you." Nancy said.

    "Ok."

    I groaned as I slipped my hand around from her body so I could reach her pussy.
    The least I could do was to get her worked up so I could get her off before I
    did.

    "Oh

    yes. That feels good," she said as she moved to give me better access.

    "Oh

    yes! Fuck yes!" Emily screamed as her whole body shook, her tits squirting
    milk in several directions as her orgasm caused her muscles to all contract.

    "Oh

    yes. I can see why you liked it so much," My wife said quietly as I
    stroked her pussy, trying everything I knew to keep from shooting inside Emily
    at that moment.

    "How

    close are you?" I asked in a half groan.

    "You're

    that close?"

    "Oh

    god yes."

    "Then

    we better do something about that." My wife said coaxing Emily off my
    dick. She lay back and looked at me. "Ok fill me up."

    "With

    pleasure!" I said as I rolled over onto her and pushed my engorged dick
    into her pussy.

    "That's

    it. Give it all to me. Fill my pussy with your hot cum!" she cooed as I
    stroked into her.

    "Uh"

    I grunted as my dick jerked, pushing a squirt of cum into her pussy. Time and
    again my body jerked, filling her pussy full of my hot juice until it couldn't
    hold it all and it leaked around me.

    "That's

    it baby. So nice." She cooed as she pulled me down to her and gently
    kissed me. She held me for only a few minutes before I rolled off of her so I
    didn't crush her.

    "Oh

    god yes. Stay there." Emily said as she crawled across my wife's legs to
    eagerly suck my cum from my deflating dick. When she had me licked clean she
    slid back and lowered her head to my wife's leaking pussy, sliding her tongue
    up her slit time and again to collect my cum.

    I was

    shocked at how eagerly she licked and sucked my cum from my wife's pussy,
    tasting not only me but her. She licked until she couldn't get any more and
    then worked on Nancy's clit pushing her closer to a climax and squeezing more
    of my juices out for her.

    I

    watched as she finally pulled away, moving so her pussy was facing us.

    "Slide

    toward me," She said to my wife, holding her hand out to her.

    My wife

    looked at me, unsure what she was going to do, but slid down the bed, allowing
    Emily to position her pussy against hers.

    "Oh

    yes. Just like that," Emily cooed as she ground her pussy into my wife's
    their clits sliding across each other's wet lips. "Oh yes. Mike, Come suck
    my tits!" She grunted as she worked her hips.

    I

    rolled over and crawled so I was on all fours across the two of them and
    wrapped my lips around one of Emily's milky tits. Each suck brought a new
    squirt of warm juice into my mouth, encouraging me to suck more greedily as she
    cried out in pleasure. I felt a mouth close around my dick, and guessed it was
    Linda, even though I couldn't see her from my current position. Between the
    milk tits and the attention of Linda's mouth and hand, I was quickly growing
    again.

    "Oh

    fuck!" My wife screamed as her body shuddered and jerked in orgasm as
    Emily's sliding wet pussy pushed her over the edge.

    "oh

    yes oh yes oh yes oh yes," Em repeated over and over as she grew closer to
    her peak. She rolled onto her back as her body twitched in orgasm, allowing her
    tits to squirt tiny streams of milk in several directions. I did my best to
    capture what I could and then gently licked and sucked the small puddles that
    had collected on her body.

    "How

    close are you?" Nancy asked from where she was laying, her chest no longer
    heaving to catch her breath.

    "Getting

    close," I answered between licks.

    "I

    want to watch you cum all over her."

    I

    looked down at where Linda was sucking me and she looked back and nodded. It
    took a minute or two to organize us, with Emily laying on the bed and me
    kneeling over her stomach. Linda leaned down from one side and my wife leaned
    down from the other and together licked and sucked on my dick, driving me wild
    with the combination of the view and sensations.

    "Fuck

    her tits," my wife said suddenly, pulling my cock from her mouth and
    pressing it down against Emily's body. I scooted up her body as the three of
    them pressed Emily's tits together, my saliva slickened dick easily sliding
    into the tunnel that it created.

    "Does

    that feel good," My wife asked as she watched my dick slide in and out of
    the tunnel, my head disappearing into Em's mouth at the end of each stroke.

    "Oh

    god yes!"

    "Cum

    for me. I want to watch you squirt all over her tits. I want to lick your cum
    from her big milky tits."

    "Oh

    god!" I groaned, quickly pulling back out of Em's tits and sliding down
    her body a foot or so. I lifted myself up on my knees and quickly stroked my
    dick with my hand. My body jerked suddenly, squirting a string of cum that
    lanced out across Em's tits, hitting my wife in the face where she lay with her
    head on Em's shoulder. Time and again my dick squirted, covering Em with my
    entire load, and then allowing my drooling dick to leak its remains out onto
    her stomach while I struggled to catch my breath.

    If I hadn't

    just cum, I would have in the next few seconds, watching my wife and Linda both
    gently lick and suck my cum from Em's tits, occasionally sucking one of her
    tits into their mouths as well.

    I

    reached behind me and gently stroked Emily's pussy, causing her to groan and
    hump her hips back up toward me. "Oh you're going to make me cum
    again!" she panted as I stroked her, watching the little spouts of milk
    shoot into the air as I drove her closer. "Oh!" she cried as her body
    tensed, and the milk shower increased, covering both my wife's and Linda's face
    with milk.

    I

    leaned down and gently kissed them both alternately, then kissed and licked
    their milky faces. "That was probably the sexiest thing I have ever
    seen."

    "You

    liked that huh?"

    40 min

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