Monday, August 02, 2004

Gay Man Porn Young Sex story

2002. M.C. All Rights Reserved. All Reproduction for fee
or profit forbidden.

Copies of my stories can be downloaded from:
<files/Authors/MikeC/>

Send all comments and suggestions to MikeCNSpace

============

James Part VIII. Lofty Goals

Chapter 48

I helped Jules tie MiniMax down using small hooks set into the asphalt
and Celeste hurried up to us. I kissed her, then I turned her and hugged
her to me as we looked at the Wheel. "Do you know how much I admire your
wonderful building? And how much I admire you?" I nuzzled her neck.

"Dammit James, I had all this bitching saved up and now I can't
anymore!" Celeste sighed, "I was gonna yell at you for leaving me with your
two immature girlfriends..." she whispered, "They wore me out by making me
come all night!" Jules giggled and kissed her.

"C'mon!" Celeste took our hands and went up the stairs and inside. Max
and Marjorie were there showing a small group of their friends around. All
the walls were in place, just waiting for the floors and lights and power
to be installed and a couple of coats of paint. The entire outside wall
was made of transparent Lexan sheeting, providing an unobstructed view of
the lake and the little bay.

"This is so wonderful, James!" Marjorie took my hand, "I cannot imagine
Bert doing a better job." she placed her arm around Celeste, "And this
darling girl has made it all happen." she turned to Celeste, "You have the
eternal and heartfelt thanks of a very happy old lady!"

"Which old lady are you referring to?" I smiled, "I see three very
lovely YOUNG ladies here..."

"Oh go on! You sweet talker!" Marjorie smiled happily and blushed as
Max took her hand. We excused ourselves and they turned back to their
group.

"Max and Marjorie had been inseparable since the first day." Celeste
giggled, "We call them M&M 'cos they're so sweet together!" as she took us
up the metal spiral staircase built around the center pillar which led up
to the offices and patio.

"That's Brenda's office," Celeste pointed to a large room, then she
showed me two smaller adjoining offices, "This is where her fawning lackeys
sit." she smiled and pinched my ass.

A large staff room took up half of the structure. Four desks, each with
its own desktop computer lined one side while a kitchenette with a large
Lshaped eating counter occupied the opposite side, along with a large
dining table with a dozen chairs. There were 2 couches along the wall with
the walk out to the deck.

Celeste took me to the computers, "The DSL guy said it's up and running
but he won't connect the network." she squeezed my hand and giggled,
"Unless I went out with him..." she looked at me, "He was kinda cute too!"

"And I saved your precious girlfriend's virtue," Jules smirked.

Celeste laughed, "I got him to hook up one computer and Jules figured
out the router and connected the others."

"Actually I only did half they've all got the Internet, but they can't
share files or the printers yet." Jules said apologetically.

I showed them the simple trick to enable sharing on the computers and
finished installing the laser and Celeste's posterformat color printer by
her drafting table.

"We'll also need to hook up the offices and the laptops as well."
Celeste added.

"Hmmm, the router only has 4 ports, so we'll have to add another hub or
two. We'll need to run some lines a couple down to the test areas in the
main building would be useful..." I mulled, "And ideally we should hook up
a wideareanetwork to link to the computers at Nicole's and find a way to
connect the Eyrie as well..."

We took our drinks out to the patio. It was a 40' wide circular cedar
deck that sat over the Wheel, providing a weather barrier and a temperature
sink to reduce the load on the heat pumps. It was also a huge comfortable
area for sunning and for just admiring the view.

I hugged the girls, "What an amazing accomplishment! The Mueller
Wheel..." I sighed, "After so many years."

We talked briefly about our plans for the week and Celeste added, "It's
almost time for you to go pick Nicole up make sure you get back at six.
M&M are planning a corn roast to welcome you guys back!" We could see the
BBQ drums already set up over by the restaurant.

We went inside and I said to Jules, "Er, are the cars still working?"

She laughed, "If anything, it'll run better. Mandie was driving us up
the wall so Max got her doing maintenance on the cars. She's changed the
oil and filters, regapped all the plugs, cleaned the injectors and replaced
the gaskets."

"Yeah," Celeste giggled, "She gave me shit for taking off without
warming the engine properly and that one of the tires was low on air! Then
she made me learn where the dipstick and all the fluids go!"

"So we're covering all the bases!" I laughed, "Max Performance, for sea,
air, now land too!"

I waved Celeste over and pulled her close, "And you had BETTER learn
where the dipstick goes when I get back!" I slipped my hand over her ass
and kissed her softly, "Otherwise we'd have a hell of a time when we try to
christen all the rooms of the Wheel!" I looked at her.

She started, then sighed and hugged me fiercely, "Yes sir... Master."

"Honey Pie, can I help?" Jules offered, "He gave me a refresher course
on the way up here..." Softly I locked the door behind me as they made
themselves comfortable on the sofa.

= = = =

"Hello good looking!" She whispered in my ear. I jumped and then
stared. Her blonde hair was teased up and her full lips were made more
luscious by red lipstick. It took me three tries to say "WOW!" and I
stared some more at the loose white top and skin tight jeans she barely had
on.

"Aren't you gonna greet your woman the way she needs to be...?" Nicole
chuckled throatily and slipped her arms around my neck. Pretty soon I
could only think of how quickly I could get the outfit off her.

"Er..." I managed in between gasps, "How did you get out here? I never
took my eyes off the exit!"

"Oh, the crew insisted I come in with them." She glinted, "Something
about preventing a riot..." she smiled, "Do I pass muster?" and did her
fistonhip pose. There was a long moment of silence when every pair of
eyes were focused on her. She glinted at me and, to a chorus of sighs, she
turned and took my arm, as I took her small luggage. She leaned on me as
we strolled through the airport, drawing admiring looks and whistles, which
she smilingly acknowledged.

I had just seated us in the car when she held my face and crushed our
mouths together. Finally she threw herself back on her seat, gasping,
"God, you're such an amazing kisser! I could come just from that!"

"Why did you stop?" I quivered, not that far from making a mess in my
pants myself.

"I'm saving myself for when you can properly ravish me!" She sighed,
"Well, what are you waiting for? Get us home now!" she urged.

We got on the highway and she slipped her heels off. "I wanted to
impress you but even these 2 inch Mary Janes hurt!" She started rubbing her
feet and I gestured to her. She turned and sat with her legs across my
lap.

"Ahhhh!" She sighed as I started rubbing her feet, "Oh what decadence,
to have a footrubber!" She started giggling as I pulled one up and began
kissing her toes.

"Oh wait!" She sat up, undid her jeans and started shimmying out of
them, "Ugh! Took me forever to put them on this morning... This should
save a bit of time..."

She stretched out again with her long legs on me and sighed happily as I
stroked them. We had just turned off the interstate when she moaned,
"Honey, James, hurry..." She bit her lip, "I'm getting close... Look!" At
the lights she parted a leg and showed me the dark wet patch on her silk
panties.

The traffic took pity on us and allowed me to race to the house in a
minute flat. I slewed the car on the driveway and carried her to the door
and up the stairs two steps at a time. Giggling, Nicole took her top off
and I almost tripped, she had nothing underneath and her nipples were
already hard and puckered.

I dropped her on the bed and buried my face between them, nibbling and
licking as she tore at my hair and arched her hard nipples into me. Slowly
I let her push my head lower and trailed my tongue down. I kissed past her
fine blond patch, getting a gasp from her as I nibbled the hood over her
clitoris, followed by a happy sigh when my tongue followed and started to
coax it out. Nicole caressed my hair and her legs shivered against my back
as she sighed her soft release.

"That's good, James..." she whispered, and pulled my head up, "Why are
you still dressed? How do you expect to fuck me fully dressed?" She
watched me scramble out of my clothes, "Hurry dear, or I'm gonna start
without you!" She licked her lips as her hand slipped over herself, "Mmmm,
wet... so wet... for you." she sighed as she watched me gingerly extract
my angry erection.

Nicole held my face and gently kissed me as I slipped over her, then
with one hand she reached between our bodies and helped me slide into her.
She was soft and so hot as she urged me deeper with her nails on my back. I
started rutting myself in her, her cries urging me on. I slipped my hands
down to her ass and clasped her against my thrusting cock as she wrapped
arms and legs around me, groaning in lusty abandon. I slowed, trying to
prolong the agonizing pleasure. Suddenly Nicole cried loudly, digging her
nails in my shoulders and SQUEEZED her cunt on me.

"Oh god!" I shuddered and my come poured in her. Our bodies shook and
we moaned our pleasure.

= = = =

"So, how was the trip?" I asked as we drove to the lake.

"Busy, 5 companies in a week is tedious. We have lots to talk about,
but later, when everybody's there." she sighed, "Tel me about YOUR trip
instead, how was Sherri?"

I was still telling her about the amazing Regan shoot and Brenda's 'job'
there when we drove in the marina. Nicole sucked in her breath at the
imposing sight of the Wheel, "Wow, this is better than I've imagined..."
she breathed against my shoulders.

She had me take her on a walk around the outside before we went inside.
We followed the girls' chatter and laughter to the staff room upstairs.

"Nicole!" Jules shouted and ran into her arms, to be quickly joined by
Celeste, then Sara and Amanda.

Nicole kissed them warmly, then she turned to Sherri and gathered her in
an embrace, "Welcome Sherri dear, I'm glad I'm finally going to have the
chance to get to know you." They kissed softly, then Nicole said, stroking
her cheek, "You are such a lovely girl!".

"Nicole..." Amanda leaned on Nicole, sighing, "You should know that
Sherri was very mean to me..." and licked Nicole's neck.

Nicole wrapped her arms around the two girls, laughing, "And you allowed
her to live? So honey, how was she mean to you...?"

"She..." Amanda fidgeted, rubbing her body on Nicole, "She bit me!"

"Oh...? Where exactly..." Both Amanda and Nicole was now getting quite
flushed.

"Here..." Amanda guided Nicole's hand inside her bikini top, "Oooh, er,
I mean, ouch!" she squirmed.

"I'm very sorry, Mandie," Sherri said with downcast eyes, "Can I kiss it
better?" She went over and started kissing and licking a boob.

"And, Nicole..." Sara slipped behind Amanda, "I think I may have
accidentally bit her too!" she nuzzled Amanda's neck, murmuring, "Can you
forgive me?" Her hand went inside Amanda's briefs. Giggling they waltzed
her over and on to the nearest sofa.

Nicole sighed and looked at me, "I think I've been jilted."

"No you haven't!" Celeste gave her a long tender kiss. "How WAS the
trip? Did you miss me?" Without waiting for an answer, she locked their
lips together again. They were both bright eyed when they pulled back.

"Yes, I missed you, love..." She turned and pulled Jules close, "And
you..."

I politely waited a few minutes and cleared my throat, "Er, ladies,
which way's the food?"

"That's all you can think of?" Celeste glared at me, "We're having a
SERIOUS conversation here!" She pulled her hand out of Nicole's blouse to
check her watch, "Oops, we should get over there to set up..."

They fixed up their clothing and filed out the door, pointing me at the
three bodies squirming over the sofa.

I went over and pulled Sara and Sherri off a very disheveled and
dazedlooking Amanda. "Ah..." she blinked at me a few times, "Oh,
James..." she wrapped her arms around my neck and tugged me down beside
her, then quickly clambering on my lap, "Where were you while I was being
molested?"

"Was that what they were doing?" I kissed her, "You didn't seem to
mind."

"Hah, little did you know. I struggled and fought!" she sighed, "But
they were too strong... Hey! Wait for me!" She yelled at the girls who
had disappeared behind the closing door.

"Not until you get some clothes on... There may be people with weak
hearts out there!" I reminded her.

"Will you help me...?" she murmured against my neck.

"It will be my pleasure." I smiled into her deep blue eyes.

I unhooked her bra as she hummed and squirmed on me, trailing her tongue
on my collar. Her top slipped unnoticed to the side as she moaned and
tugged my shirt off, drawing her hard nipples across my chest as our lips
met.

Frantically, without breaking our kiss, Amanda struggled out of her
briefs and then yanked my pants down.

"Unnmph!" She grunted as my rampant cock found her hot, tight cunt.
Gingerly, with slow short strokes, Amanda slipped down until I was
completely surrounded my her tender heat.

"God! I missed you!" She moaned as she started stroking herself on me,
"Ahhh!" She dropped herself on me and hugged me as she shook weakly on me.
After a while she resumed fucking on me.

"So good! Ssssso good!" She moaned as I grabbed her ass and drove our
bodies together. She bit my lip and grunted her release, just as I pumped
my come into her. She collapsed on me, sighing and kissing my neck.

"Where're your clothes?" I whispered when our shivering stopped.
Reluctantly Amanda climbed off me and padded over to the kitchen counter,
her saucy little ass twitching. She turned at my heartfelt cry of
appreciation and smiled broadly. Then she turned and spread her legs as
she ran her hands over her boobs and down to her glistening crotch. She
licked her finger slowly and blew me a kiss.

She slid into her jeans and a thin top. I stared, if anything it was
even more provocative than her bikini. "Sweetheart, if YOU don't get
dressed you won't get any food!" She pulled me up and helped me with my
clothes.

Arm in arm we walked over to the restaurant and the big oildrum BBQs.
Max stopped us and waved us over to a cylinder made of 3 stacked oildrums.
It had a short smokestack and an inverted "U" scoop at the base which sat
over a slow wood fire.

"This is a cold smoker." he told us as he opened the door on the
smoker's side, showing us 3 fish hanging inside. One of them was a huge
6foot jackfish. The girls had caught quite a few fish earlier and the
larger ones were being smoked, using Max's 'Secret Recipe'.

We followed him to where people were gathering for the corn roast and
started working on the fires. Sherri grabbed our arms and took us into the
restaurant, where Sara and Marjorie were washing up after filleting the
fish.

"James, help us bring the fish out!" Sara said, then looked at Amanda,
"Did you tell him...?"

"Er... No." Amanda blushed, "I forgot I got too carried away."

"Tell me what?" I asked.

"Well, Sara and Sherri and I got to talking and we thought it might be a
good idea to invite our parents up here this Sunday, then they can see the
marina and what we do here..."

"Hey, that's a great idea. They'll be so proud of you!"

"Yeah, and then we can stay up here tomorrow. Gyro 2 needs a bit of
work still." Amanda sighed, "But James, it sorta means you can't hang
around..." she fidgeted, "Is that OK?"

"I suppose," I sighed, "I'll just have to drown my sorrows somewhere..."

She gave me a kiss, "Thank you, love!"

"Don't worry James," Marjorie added, with a twinkle, "We'll look after
your girls. And we'll make sure their folks get a great reception."

The girls ran off to make their arrangements and I wandered out with the
30lbs of battered fillets they had prepared. The corn were being roasted
at one end of the grill and Max had dressed the flame with mesquite chips
and were doing burgers and steak at the other. Sitting in the middle was a
skillet of oil which I used to cook the fillets. Marjorie started serving
the food to the thirty or so townspeople who had collected.

"We started doing this when the restaurant ran out of seating earlier
this week. Everybody leaves five or ten bucks which goes back to the
restaurant." Marjorie stopped me when I reached for my wallet, "You, and
all the girls, are our guests." She looked at me earnestly, "For what
you've done for the whole town, and what you've done for us..." she smiled,
"For the first time in a long time I feel happy, and alive." She gripped my
hand.

We ended up with over fifty 'guests', most of whom had dropped by before
to watch the Wheel being built but came back for the food and the company.
Some also brought cooked food, garden vegetables or fresh caught fish and
game. More than a few brought homebrewed beverages.

Everybody seemed to know Celeste and Jules and Amanda had quite a
following themselves, especially after Harry brought his studentpilots in.

It was not until past eight before we finished cleaning up and made our
way back to the Eyrie.

We stood out on the patio and looked out at the lovely warm welcome the
sunset was providing, Nicole put her arm around me and leaned her head on
me, "I miss this much more than I could ever have imagined." She sighed,
"I just hope I never get used to the mosquitoes and flies!" She shuddered.

Celeste and Sherri had disappeared inside but soon Sherri came out. "We
have a special presentation... Follow me." She took us up and out to the
clearing behind the house. Sherri sat at the Yamaha that was set up there

Celeste spoke, "This piece we want to play you is called Intermezzo. It
was written in the 1890's by an Italian composer named Pietro Mascagni
this is the song that most symbolized the Wheel to me." She took my hand
and kissed me, "After James made me see, really see, the genius of Bertram
Mueller's work." She looked at us, eyes glowing. "It is a song of
beginnings, of growth, and a search for new horizons. I promised myself I
would play it for them the two most important men in my life."

She opened the case and tenderly took her violin out, a vibrantly
striated rich wine color with a satiny ebony fingerboard. Celeste caressed
it delicately as a mother her newborn.

She looked at it, and said quietly, almost whispering, "This was the
creation of the great 18th Century master, Vincenzo Panormo," she looked up
at us, "And there are two very unique things about this particular
instrument." Celeste paused, then dreamily, "She is one of the sweetest and
most powerful sounding violins, and it's only 7/8 size..." She softly
stroked the strings and they whispered back. "Panormo named her 'Sweet
Girl'...

"Secondly, and this is both her greatest weakness and her greatest
worth." She looked at us, "Most great instruments like this, if cared for
properly, can last for centuries. However, 'Sweet Girl' was born with a
defect." She turned it over, "There is a hairline crack here in the wood.
It's just less than an inch long, and some say that's why she sounds as
amazing as she does." She looked up, sadly, "But, although it had been
meticulously repaired, one cannot tell when it will split further and
destroy the instrument... It could be years, or it could be tomorrow..."
She sighed. "And knowing that, there is a driving force, a need to let her
sing her sweet song, because when it happens, she'll lose her voice, and
her life..." She held it in her hand and gazed lovingly at it before
nestling the instrument under her chin. She raised her bow.

And Sweet Girl sang.

============

2002. M.C. All Rights Reserved. All Reproduction for
fee or profit forbidden.

Copies of my stories can be downloaded from:
<files/Authors/MikeC/>
Send all comments and suggestions to MikeCNSpace

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Friday, July 30, 2004

Gay Man Porn Young Sex story

SOCCER BOUNDARIES

by Holly Rennick

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Perusing the Internet, I noted a submission, "Soccer Mom". (OK,
"football" to you nonAmericans, but you might not appreciate the
phenomenon of Saturday kids' sports.



Dad: "Come on, son. Run, goddamnit, run!"



Mom: "I brought them orange slices for halftime. Plus some napkins."

Only later did it pop into my lagging wit how evocative was the title.
But I didn't go in search of the original. Had I done so, wherever I might
have marched would already be charted. And I think it rather rude
("unprofessional", I'd rather say, but I don't get paid) to hijack a title.
So how about "Soccer Dad" to expand the perspective? Not about the jerk
who wants to boss his kid's weekends, but about one I'd like as an
assistant if I knew how to be a coach.

But then I went with "Soccer Boundaries".

COACHING

As it was Barb's job, the girls called her "Coach". Carl was her
assistant and the girls called him "Carl". Barb knew soccer, knew how to
make the kids work their butts off and love it. Barb knew how to drop a
corner kick five feet from the net. Carl wasn't especially athletic, but
was happy to trot around, the encourager. "Nice pass, Heather. Watch the
outofbounds, though."

On the field, Barb was "Coach" to Carl as well. "You bet, Coach," he'd
confirm as he drilled his group on crossovers. "Not until you see the ball
in the air!" said with certainty. He hoped the girls thought he'd known
that himself. Barb, ponytail pushed out the back of her bill cap, gave him
a thumbsup.

Basically, Carl loved being out there with the kids, cheering them on,
talking about tournaments as if they were so important. Win or lose, the
girls were learning about working hard, thinking ahead, seeing themselves
as winners. In three or four more years they'd be collegebound, probably
none to compete intercollegiatally, but with what they'd learned at 14 as
tools toward the arts, engineering, medicine, wherever they aimed.

Schedulewise, Carl made it fit. Two lateafternoon practices a week
plus Saturdays plus Sundays when they did tournaments just meant balancing
his projects.

His daughter Kathy and Barb's Andrea were best friends, but also
happened to be the team's scoring machine. Kathy could pass and Andrea had
the footwork of a coach's progeny. Long pass, fake, goal! But as much as
coach and assistant wanted the points, they also ensured everybody's
playing time. Sometimes a girl who'd never scored got her skills together
and dribbled one right in.

Barb and Carl plus a clutch of eighth and ninth graders together made
for good soccer.

Carl might have phrased it in light of helping the girls, or maybe even
staying in shape himself, but the fact was that he truly enjoyed working
with ("for," he'd concede with a grin) Barb. They knew each other well.
Did they not know each other so well, he realized, they might come to know
each other too well, the "so" vs. "too" distinction being significant.

The elements were obviously there for boundary crossings. Divorced
female. Divorced male. Excitement of the game. A hug. Needing to talk.
Forget a playing field's sidelines and the game ends up behind the
bleachers.

The elements were there for boundary crossings except for two who didn't
want to ruin their friendship. Barb knew all about crossing lines. Her
divorce, she said, was because, treated casually, such lines fade. "Don't
let that shit happen," as she bluntly put it, "without thinking way ahead."

Probably some folks thought that the two did have a thing going. What's
to stop two adults? They don't go to church or anything. So what? But
folks who presume it tend to be the same ones screwing up their own lives.
Coach and Assistant Coach knew that boundaries have reasons.

But Barb also knew the frivolity of a boundary. A little raunchiness,
never intense, never perpetuated, works well if both sides know the rules.
Familiarity, sure, but inbounds familiarity.

Carl, in turn, knew that their companionship worked because he was
careful. For tournaments requiring overnight stay, for example, he'd have
his own room and Barb would end up with however many of the team could pack
into hers. Hotels never cared about their extra sleeping bags, as any
number of girls causes less wear and tear than just two from a boys' team.
But parents don't want their girls rooming with a male, even a trustworthy
one.

Once after dinner (Sizzler, the girls had voted), Barb had brought her
paperback to Carl's room to escape the hyperteenage cluster. When she
dozed off on the other bed, he'd fetched some of the team to wake her, not
wanting to be in the position of being alone with her sleeping. Stupid?
Uptight? Not one bit! That's why it worked.

Carl could have crowded against Barb in the huddle, but he'd scrunch the
other way. They might crawl over each other a bit when cramming gear into
her van, sure, and she'd not act violated. It wasn't that he didn't like
the push of a breast across his arm. But deliberate brushing, he realized,
could become a habit. For a male coach in a girls' league, that sort of
thing is noticed.

Barb had even once said, "There's no reason mine need the damn thing,
but a guy's eyes never stop wandering," going back to her van to slip on
her sports bra under her Hawkeye sweatshirt. It had been his eyes, he
knew, though he'd tried to avert them. She'd seemed even a little amused,
as if, "What say I go topless, good buddy, because they're not much and
then we'll work the girls on zone defence?" She had that sort of ease about
her. We're sexual, sure, but not going to let it overwhelm camaraderie.
We're a team that's out to have fun playing soccer.

Carl figured himself to be smart enough to avoid the obvious pitfalls.
The sex he needed he got with his old right hand, he told himself. Not
that often, but enough. Wendy, his ex, implied he was a wimp for not
jumping up to fuck every time she felt a little bored. She knew how to get
better sex elsewhere and to hell with him!

But Barb knew Carl maybe better than Wendy had. "You're not gay. Shit,
you and Wendy made a baby. We could compare notes, maybe," making him
blush. "You're plenty curious about my underwear, right? Ohmigod, did I
forget mine?" feigning horror, laughing and adding, "You get burned; you
back off. Makes sense to me. Hang in there, buddy."

The girls had given Coach the Iowa Hawkeye shirt, despite her protest
that she was an Iowa Stater, a Cyclone. It was because she never missed
seeing anything. Carl agreed.

Carl and Barb shared the tribulations of raising strongwilled girls,
PTA, Bluebirds, science fairs, orchestra concerts with no two violins tuned
quite the same. Soccer was the girls' passion now, but as parents, they'd
probably be comparing notes on dating rules in a year or two.

"You know why things work between us?" Barb asked one day.

"Respect, an exaggerated sense of what's ridiculous, understanding of
goalkeeping, lots of things, right?" Carl actually did think he understood
about what a goalie should do charge against a oneonone breakthrough,
etc.

"Sure, but why do things stay solid?" she followed.

"Why?"

"Boundaries. We know ours."

Carl thought. "Yeah, I guess we do." He knew good and well to what she
referred. He'd felt her breast when they were loading the van.

"We do," she laughed the laugh he loved. "But shit, you know what?
You're so rulebook that you think mine is up here," drawing a line at her
forehead. "But maybe it's here and you never figured it out," she
flustered, not a Barb sort of thing to do, and moved the line to her neck.

"For some lucky guy, maybe."

"But just so you know, I know that you know that I'm a girl." She
wrinkled her brow. "Too many 'knows', maybe?"

Barb picked up the ball bag, "So here's a question for a mathboy."

"Fire away."

"Say this field is 50 by 100 yards. So if the area remains the same and
we move the touch lines to 60, what happens to the distance between the
goal lines?" To Carl, they were the "sidelines" she was widening, but Barb
knew the correct terminology.

"They get closer, but I'd need a calculator."

"Smart boy! And why'd there be more scoring?"

Carl envisioned X's and O's on a clipboard. "Because the defence gets
spread, I'd think."

"Two out of two! So in addition to athletics, in what social activity
is the objective also 'to score'." Barb's grin tipped off Carl that he was
being set up.

He laughed when he caught the gist. "You're terrible, especially for a
woman."

"It helps to widen the boundaries," Barb answered herself. "To score
more, I mean. Now why's that terrible, us talking about soccer, Mr.
Assistant?"

Carl could never josh around like that with another woman.

THE PILL

It was later in the season. "Carl?"

He knew from Barb's voice that something weighed on her mind. Had he
gazed too closely at one of the girls? He supposed he did some times, but
Barb wouldn't put him down for noticing, would she? She knew that he'd not
go anywhere.

Shoot, when he and Barb joked about a player "growing up", it was
usually in the context of physical attributes. "Better get that one a
bigger jersey," for one filling out her figure. Or perhaps, "Better size
than one down," for a yet flatchested one with top loose enough to see
soccer shoes from her neckline. Barb knew he noticed. She'd even share
tidbits gleaned from Andrea, information to which coaches should be
sensitive. Lana, a halfback, they knew had "gone too far" and was moody
for weeks. "This isn't the time to rag a girl about teamwork. She's
thinking a bit closer to home, for God's sakes. Scared she'll miss her
period." Carl better know what makes a girl tick, or in this case, what
might make Lana's ticking a bit more complex.

Barb continued about her concern. "Kathy's your daughter, not mine, and
you're a good dad to her."

Carl looked at his friend. Did Barb read his thoughts about even his
own kid? Not thoughts, even, just noticing. "It's nothing," he denied,
thus admitting.

"It may be whatever," she countered, "but it's not nothing," busying
herself gathering the practice jerseys, obviously not wanting to enumerate.

Barb waited till the two were walking to the parking lot. "We notice
them all, both of us. You're not some sort of weirdo."

"I hope not," he agreed.

"She's not either."

Carl found this an odd twist. Kathy? But before he could sort it out,
Barb continued, "Sometimes you find out something secondhand."

"Most everything I ever find out, actually," he agreed.

"Well, here's something that I think you better know... Kathy wants to
get on the pill."

"The pill?"

"You know what I mean. She doesn't want to get knocked up."

"But she's just... How do you know?" realizing that the "just 14"
wasn't an argument.

"Andrea told me."

"Andrea?"

"My kid's sexually active, Carl." Barb's voice was flat, almost masked.
"We can't just ignore it, assume it makes them all grown up."

Carl put his hand on Barb's.

She looked down, "All you can warn is don't fuck somebody who doesn't
respect you. Don't catch something. Don't get pregnant. The guys can get
rubbers, but even still I told Andrea to get on the pill. Sooner or later
he forgets or it comes off or some shit. If she's old enough, she better
be old enough to take care of things."

"Jesus," was all Carl could muster.

"Probably half the team gets stuff from that health office. But if we
marched in and raise hell, we'd just deny them getting medical advice."

"With who? Kathy, I mean... I guess I don't have to know, but she's my
kid!"

"With nobody yet, but she's decided to."

Carl saw some light. "I'll talk her out of it. You can help, I mean."

"Carl, now listen. Every one of them is going to start some time or
another. You don't talk these girls out of something they know is going to
happen. It never works. It's about not rushing. You listen and try to
hear."

"Hear what? That she wants to screw?" Carl was frustrated.

"But here's where it's harder to explain," not bothering to affirm his
query. "I suppose you'll figure out why it's me saying this sooner or
later, but that's not the point. She wants to have sex because that's what
girls do. That much makes sense?"

"Sure."

"And she wants to have it with somebody who loves her. Is this weird?"

"No."

"OK, then." Barb swallowed and looked fully at Carl. "She said she's
going to sleep with her dad if he'll do it."

Carl sat stunned. With him? Sure they loved each other. Sure he found
her attractive; how could he not? Sure she'd probably idolized him at some
time. But sexually? Him? His daughter? He felt pale. Where had he
failed?

"It's not that weird, Carl, for a girl to want that. Shit, it's common
as hell. Maybe usually nothing comes of it; some pukeface boyfriend bangs
her and she halfway forgets. But sometimes, especially for a girl who goes
for what she wants, it happens. She sleeps with dad a few times. That
simple. Just a few times. They keep loving each other."

"But Barb, she's just a kid. You know I'd..."

"I don't know crap sometimes about anybody. And sometimes maybe you
don't know squat about yourself."

"But even still..."

"So here's what I say. Take it for what it's worth."

Carl listened for the escape plan. Barb would know.

"The pill takes three or four weeks to get things stable. She's got
that much time to think." Barb weighed her advice and frowned. "Like it's
this big thoughtful thing! Shit! So you've got a little time, anyway.
Pay attention to her. Getting ready is a tough time for a girl, not like
you zipper brains." She smiled. "Be a real dad, OK?"

"OK." But that wasn't telling him where to go, he realized.

Barb continued, "It's her thing to figure out what she wants; it has to
be. Maybe she says yes and you say no and you deal with that." She smiled.
"You know how to say no. You're no zipper brain. No sirree."

Carl interrupted. "I've got to wait to say that?"

"We don't always know what we'll say."

"It won't happen."

"So don't spook her, then," Barb was emphatic. Letting that much sink
in, she seemed to back up. "She'll want you to be the boss, the dad. Just
don't. You'll hurt her down there because you don't know."

"Just don't. That's what I just said."

"No, stupid! Don't be the boss. Let her move the boundary at her own
pace. She's not used to it, the physical part... Fucking is serious
shit."

"You're telling me?"

"You know how much I trust you? Enough to tell you about having sex
with your daughter, forgodsakes!"

Barb was saying that it would happen! Maybe in three or four weeks!

No it won't.

PONDERINGS

Driving home, Carl was torn between shock and confusion. Kathy? Sex?
There was no pretending that Barb had inferred otherwise. Barb would have
held back on thoughts not fairly nailed down. She wouldn't have flown off
projecting teenage fantasies. She'd talked with Andrea and Kathy wouldn't
lie to her best friend. Barb had spoken with knowledge that such things
occur. Why shoot the messenger?

Fathers can't think this stuff about their kid, can they? It's not
natural. Well, maybe it's biologically natural, but it's not supposed to
happen. It's not right! Everybody knows that. It's plain wrong to have
sex together. Sex is something...

Nothing would happen because Carl knew it wasn't right.

It's just so complicated. Sex is something...

Sure, Kathy might feel ready to become a woman (a shallow view of it,
anyway, he recognized, but she's just 14), but why wouldn't it happen
wrestling with some 16yearold boy with a driver's license? He answered
that one before he'd finished the question. The kid believes in herself,
in a future. She'd look at the relationship. She probably already saw
beyond what a 16yearold could return. Sure, he knew, she'd sooner or
later digress to a backseat mentality, but maybe she wasn't out to hurry
it.

So what would she see in him? Well, a dad she could trust. She'd
probably picked up that she could flirt with him, could get his attention.
She'd noticed his glance when she'd fly by in a towel. She knew he'd smile
after planting her good morning kiss. Sure, he admitted, she saw someone
who in turn saw her as a young woman.

Was he handsome to her? Surely not, as she saw too much of him. But
then, how would handsome even fit into her equation? He was safe.

At dinner that night, she was exactly the same. No fluttery eyes or
comments about being scared of the dark. Conversation revolved around the
school chorus. She wanted out. Fair enough, he realized; she was making
more of her own decisions.

But looking at Kathy eating peas and chatting about tryouts for Junior
Rally next year, he saw things he'd never noticed before the vibrancy,
the sweetest smile, the fuller face, the necklace. Shoot, he admitted, he
saw somebody whom in his own school days he'd have wanted to know better.

When she took a second helping of fried onions, he saw the cup of her
bra. He'd seen his daughter's bra probably that morning, but hadn't really
seen it. It was nothing of consequence. Now it was very much pictured, a
very pretty bra.

No, he told himself, it didn't give him an erotic feeling. Her breast
was just pretty, was all. He was her dad, like Barb had said. He looked
again; it looked rounder, fuller than it once did. If he brushed against
her while clearing the table, it would be soft.

It was soft.

And this was just the first evening.

The four weeks rollercoastered, Kathy everyday giving more signals.
He'd tried not to see, but there they were! Not that he'd not noticed
Kathy's emergence before, but her sexuality was now so apparent. Not only
her femininity, he realized, but her playful openness with it for him.

At least he had a friend to help him deal with it. Talk a little and
it's easier to get perspective. If only Barb could tell him how to stop
it, but Barb stood firm, "Let her think for herself. Butt into her world,
tell her what not to think, spook her and you know the rest some
pimpleface with a blister on his dick! Save your venting for me, buddy.
I've got the time and, what matters, I care."

"She's kissing me different at breakfast. I can feel it. You know
it's not going to happen, Barb. You know that!"

"Tongue? Hardly, right?" Barb answering herself as she was prone to do.
"Maybe she's just getting bigger lips or something. Kids get bigger by the
week sometimes. Kiss her back like a dad should. Brush your teeth first,
though."

"She leaves her panties on the top of the laundry pile!" He didn't
add about noticing which color she'd chosen when revealing above the back
of her belt. Today they were her pale blue ones. She was reaching for the
grapefruit juice when he saw.

"So just dump the laundry in the machine. If you know how to tell,
though, her panties might tell where she is with her pills."

How would you tell, wondered Carl, but he didn't ask. He couldn't see
anything different.

"She doesn't even tighten up her bra half the time."

Barb gave him her withering look. "So you say, 'Here girlie, let me
fiddle around with your strap?' God no! Just don't get your nose stuck
down there."

"Maybe I just don't know how to show her I love her. She wouldn't
want the sex to prove it.""

"What I know is that you're the dad that Kathy needs."

Once when Kathy pretended to steal his cap after practice, he'd
grabbed her, getting maybe goosed in return. It was surely just an
accident, an elbow maybe. But that kid's so clever. He'd felt her breast
with his forearm, accidentally slid over it and them back down, but he
didn't tell Barb that part.

"You weren't hard or anything, right?" in Barb's unabashed mode, as if
they'd talked about erections before. Of course not. "But afterwards?"
she'd continued. Well, not especially, at first anyway. "It'd be normal
as hell," she'd concluded, but then added, "Plus getting that way
remembering about it," but not pursuing it.

When Carl had jogged around too much on the sidelines (the girls ran
20 times more without such wear), Kathy would rub his neck before dinner.
She knew he liked it enough that sometimes she wouldn't make him even fib
about having muscle cramps. Her fingers could relax tendons several layers
in. Is this OK?

"Your neck?" Barb twisted at it as a trainer might. "I'd think so.
Think she's planning on going lower? Once those fingers get to walking,
you're asking me for the map?"

She laughed, "Tell you what though, if Kathy starts getting fresh, you
just come to me and I'll whack you for a while."

A breast sometimes showed when Kathy wore pyjamas. Hers were a
young women's areole, not widened like Wendy's had become by motherhood.
Larger diameter for a baby's target, Carl expected, would be the Darwinian
explanation. He tried to think of the scientific part.

Barb said that Kathy's boobs were totally normal, that this was the age
when the nipples started to pop out more. He'd noticed that too.

Showering made Kathy's teasing pretty obvious. She'd leave the door
unlocked, suggesting "Sometimes somebody has to pee." He'd of course never
gone in, but knew that the sliding shower wall wouldn't obscure much.

When he at last succumbed, "Dad, is that you?" she'd asked from behind
the glass. "It's OK. It's foggy," she'd assured.

He'd almost backed out, but instead chimed, "Just need to brush my
teeth." He'd not planned to linger, though he'd thought enough about the
dilemma of Kathy asking him to do her shoulders. She didn't, fortunately.
Though she was standing away from the partition, he could discern the flesh
tones of her figure. It was too foggy to really see, but between her legs
was dark.

"Shut the door, Dad. It lets in the cold." He'd exited panicked.

When he admitted the encounter to Barb, she was adamant. "Keep your
slimy ass out of that bathroom. She's not safe yet."

Sometimes father and daughter would watch TV "Mash", sometimes a
movie. If the movie had an actor servicing a barebreasted actress (thus
why the subscription channels made money, Carl guessed), Kathy wouldn't
pretend not to watch while Carl pretended to doze off. It wasn't porn
because maybe the plot was about a writer's life, just a life that included
breathy fornication. He'd listen to the sounds, knowing that she saw the
pictured.

"Could you see their organs?" Barb asked, as if the actors played for a
church service. No. Being Mr. Censor would just tell Kathy to watch
Xrated ones at her friends', Barb agreed. Let the kid be honest about her
curiosity.

"Barb, this is sort of strange, but, you know, it's just Kathy and
me in our house. I could just be in her room or something. Or she could
come into mine. If something like that happened and her pill's not working
yet..."

"So don't go in there to check on her window, or whatever," Barb thought
obvious. "Don't tell her there's someplace more comfortable when she rubs
your neck. You got a sofa."

Watching TV together posed Carl a lesspassive challenge. Sometimes
Kathy would drift off, and some of those times she'd be almost against him.

"Like that time at the hotel, Carl," Barb remembered, "when you got the
girls to wake me up. Maybe I ribbed you a little about not ravishing me,
but honestly, you're a real gentleman. So be that way with Kathy, OK?"

He pointed out that there weren't teammates to call upon.

"Carl, did you touch her?" Just where his hand was on her side. "That's
all?" Well, maybe a little more. "Did you reach in, maybe?" No, he was
adamant. He didn't add how his hand had slid up her sleeve from where it
would have been so easy to slip inside to her collarbone. But he'd not.
He wasn't sure how it would have been, had she been in a shirt with
buttons. He'd imagined one or two coming undone.

"Shit fire!" Barb started when she read Carl's mind. "She could have
woken up! Like she's wondering about sex and she wakes up with dad
squeezing her tit! Goddamnit, Carl, you want me to run on you? Then keep
your act together! Don't spook her! You could go to jail and get your
butt fucked!"

Barb was shaken, he could tell. She'd all but told him she knew he'd
end up doing it, and here she finds out how nearly right she was. She's
surprised? It seemed strange to Carl, but not high on his "to solve" list.

But Barb was there for more than guidance about not being seduced.

When Carl felt totally confused was when Barb did her best coaching. It
was usually pretty simple. "Women get frustrated. Men get frustrated.
Same thing. We deal with it. We got to clear our systems. Shit, if the
two of us decided to be lovers, that's what we'd do. But we got the
boundaries we agreed on. So do you and Kathy. She's not ready yet, the
pill bit. You still deal with it, but maybe more on your own. Shit, it's
how we're wired. You don't tell me crap, OK, but just blink your eye or
something so I'll know."

The two managed a smile. Barb added, "You won't go blind or anything."

PLAYOFF

"Carl, we got to talk." Coach and Assistant Coach were on the sidelines,
watching the girls jog their final lap. They'd practiced well.

This was playoff time, Carl knew, the real one. Barb wouldn't "got to
talk" about a soccer game. Kathy was ready to go through with it, her
choice only too obvious. But himself? It wasn't about being able or
wanting to. God, did he want to! He'd gone to sleep too many nights
picturing Kathy. She'd pull him to her on the sofa. She'd strip. Naked,
she'd crawl upon his lap, facing, her breasts pressing, virginity yielding,
closing around him. She'd be in charge, like Barb had said. When at last
his seed satisfied her, they'd kiss. Carl would drift off in the fullness
of it. Having done a good job. Her being so happy!

But still he wanted Barb to steady his resolve. To give him the
assurance that he'll do OK, be a loving dad. To tell him again that it's
for Kathy. Barb knows.

"I'm ready," he agreed. "I love the kid, but I needed these weeks to
get here, too. Like you said, I'll let her set our pace. Maybe we just
start out cuddling.""

Barb spoke slowly. "Carl, it's like the grass is listening. Can we go
someplace?" turning to at a bench some yards behind.

"Yeah. Not on the field." The two waved the off team and sat down.
"It's time, right? She told Andrea it's time."

"No, Carl. She's not."

"Not?"

"She stopped the pill and isn't going sleep with you."

"She isn't?" Carl felt the emptiness before he could deny it. She
didn't want to?

Barb took his hand to warm it. "She knows she's too young."

"She's almost 15. Lots of countries, that's when they get married!"

"Well, she's not there, I guess." Barb rubbed the back of his knuckles.
"You're OK?"

"I guess," a mumble.

"You guess. Carl, damn it, you guess? Look at me! You're goddamn
ready to cry!"

"No, I'm not."

"Well, be a dumbass then and act like a statue. You want Kathy to take
you down on your damn sofa! You think I've been nowhere?"

"I don't know... It's just that she's so ready."

"Like you aren't?" as if to wake him. "Like who's seducing who?"

"Does she love me still?"

"Shit yes. She's just not ready. Maybe she should wait for somebody
her own age," Barb suggested. "Sex not working out; it's regular shit,
Carl."

"Oh, God, Barb. It has been working out, Kathy and me, you know,
together."

"Oh, hell," he heard her groan. But she didn't let go of his hand.

A minute ago he'd been building a life around Kathy. Maybe it would
look odd, father and daughter living together, but people would get used to
it. They'd have their two rooms. Maybe they could have a baby and say she
adopted it or something. Consummation would lead to everything.

Now nothing. When he'd divorced, he'd at least had a little girl to
plan for. Now what? A teenager who gives him a flyby kiss and runs off
to rally practice.

"Like it's lonely all of a sudden?" Barb interrupted his thoughts. "
But Carl, it's not over if a friend is still there."

He looked more closely at his companion. She was close. "That's you.
You've been with me," he realized. Somehow, she looked like Kathy, even.

"Kathy's the one who did the work, who you almost made love to. You
need to make love, Carl, a lover, over and over. You do. I'm not Kathy,
but I'm me."

"You're you."

A kiss was how they sealed it.

Barb looked up, then behind, "Look back there, Carl. See that
basketball hoop? He looked. "You know, Carl, my dad was my basketball
coach." She thought a moment. "And Ms. Griffin, we called her Claire, was
his assistant. So it was different than now, but it was the same.

"And I loved my dad. Always have. Maybe it was a dumb decision, but
maybe it wasn't. Anyway, it was my choice. Shit, after that I fucked my
way out of every boundary there ever was, but at least I figured it out.

"And hell yes, Dad and Claire got to be lovers. It must have been at a
barbecue or something where I saw them wander toward the garage and I knew
sure as shit. There they were, holding hands, just like us. I skedaddled,
already knew the rest. Claire's my stepmom now," brightening at the
outcome.

"Any way, like I said," Barb returned to the more personal, "I fucked
things up for myself, hadn't figured out about limits. We always have
them." She raised his hand and got him to see her eyes. "But a few yards
wider, maybe?"

Carl reflected. "How would I know?"

"I'm not your coach, just maybe a partner."

Carl nodded, paused and squeezed her hand. "Why me?"

"Because we've been teammates for a hell of a long time, good
teammates." He'd always loved they way she laughed, didn't expect more of
him than he could do, but asked maybe more than he sometimes evidenced.

"But," almost forgetting about Kathy, "you've never seen me play."

"So we just do a tryout," resting her hand behind his elbow and looking
around. "Maybe not here, though."

Without allowing himself a chance to doubt his instincts, "Oneonone?"
his decision.

Barb reached behind him, as if for some unseen object, and Carl stilled
as her breast drug across his arm. "Shit! We had that damn boundary
somewhere, but it just got away. I guess it will turn up, you think?"
she'd explained, not needing an answer.

SEASON'S END

Barb told the team that this would be her last year. They'd been an
inspiration, given her confidence in herself. Some of them would keep
playing, she hoped, but what she really knew was that they'd all do
positive things. Some might move up and some would find new options to
check out. "Heck, girls. I went to basketball after mean coaches yelling
for years to keep my hands off the ball." They'd laughed. Carl was always
amazed how she'd say "heck" to them when she meant "shit".

She'd admitted to Carl afterwards, "Coaching's no snap. How a season
turns out is sometimes more about what you tell them than it is about
moving the ball. You tell them what they need to hear to be winners. But
sometimes you don't tell them all the same stuff."

Why Kathy had backed so suddenly away from sex with him, Carl never
figured out. Teenagers can just change directions so fast. It was almost
as if she'd never been on the pill. He took Barb's advice, of course
Don't ask, not with your kid, anyway. It made things easier, just acting
like nothing ever occurred, he'd admit to Barb's smile.

If Barb hadn't been there to hold him together when Kathy backed away,
what would he have done? If he'd learned that he was ready to make love,
that was something important to know, she coached.

Andrea and Kathy had the offensive skills to stay with soccer next year,
but they'd made their minds to move on. Volleyball, maybe. Drama where
they could sing? After the team's final huddle, the two walked home.
Walking meant, let's talk.

"It was weird, Andrea, that month, my dad and all," reflected Kathy.

"Well, Mom said that it's pretty regular for a dad to see his kid a
little differently when she's changing."

"Like stumble around, looking like he wants to have sex with her?"
wondered the other.

"It's a middleage crisis thing, she said. They don't do much, unless
they're shitheads."

"Well she's right on that, just bumped my tits a few times and tried to
see me naked. Masturbated like hell sometimes. Like he doesn't even think
who does the laundry?"

"Mom says it's not their fault," ruled Andrea. "Like she said, if you
let 'em solve it themselves, it's done. The best ones just take longer.
Make a big deal and shit hits the fan. I'm glad you listened to her about
not spooking him, even if she's just my mom."

"So I'm about ready to tell the counsellor he's a pervert, and all of a
sudden, I'm just his little girl again. Back to those forehead kisses! I
didn't mind him noticing a little, you know? Well, like your mom told me,
keep my mouth shut."

"Don't be a dumbass about the why. We saw them making out by the
soccer field. Good thing only Mom looked up."

"They weren't making out, just kissing," corrected Kathy.

"See Mom do his arm? When she says that then was their first kiss, I
believe it, actually. Now they're fucking like your hamsters. Like we
can't hear? Think we'll be step sisters or whatever?"

"Probably," agreed Kathy. "I'm pretty good on knowing where my dad's
head is."

"Hey, you know that Gary is going to take his driver's test next month?"

"Really?"

"Shit, if I could just get curfew upped to 12:30, he'd take me out,"
mused Andrea.

"And pop your little cherry, right?"

"Gotta pretty soon, right? Maybe I should get on the pill or
something?"

"Probably. Lana says they're OK. So maybe we could double, you in the
front, me in the back!"

"No way! I don't want you watching."

"OK. So here's how to get better curfews. I tell Dad that yours is
changing to 12:30 and you tell your mom the same about me. Then they'll
both think it's OK. Those two are so big on limits! Like the world has
limits?"

"The old differentstoriestodifferentpeople trick? Mom probably
knows it," guessed Andrea.

THE END

Holly on the Web

Wherever you found this story on the web, thank you to the server. My
problem is that I've no systematic way to update the various servers. As
literary errors (or just poor word usages) are made known to me, I'll
repair that which is salvageable on ~HollyRennick/.
My website's not much graphically, I admit, but HTML isn't my native
language.

You can contact me via the site's message form, that HTML code by the
smart people at .

I won't be changing the story significantly, so if you didn't like it
before, that much will remain the same. But if you did like it, an update
may read a bit more cleanly.
Holly

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Wednesday, July 28, 2004

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Sunday, July 25, 2004

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Laundro the weekend.

I ran around finishing up my chores for the day and got my baby ready
for bed. Dinner was set and I greeted my Husband with a big hug and
kiss. I was feeling very guilty so I was extra nice for him that
weekend. The sex was good as always but not bone jarring, breathtaking
sex like I had experienced with Bill and Darrian.

I got a call early Monday morning. It was Darrian. He told me, yes he
told me to go shopping and buy a school-girl outfit. Then I was to put
my hair up in pig-tails and come to the studio ready to pose on Tuesday
morning. I didn't even consider saying No. My nipples stiffened to the
point of pain under my tight shirt and I began getting wet just
thinking about being tied up again.

Shopping day came on Monday. I bought groceries and then did the
Laundry. I sat there and played with my child as the cloths worked
through the cycle. I thought to myself, I wonder what the biddies would
think if they knew I had answered that ad. When the cloths were done,
folded, and packed I took a trip to the mall. Baby got a new toy and I
found a white dress shirt as well as a plaid mini skirt. I found a
matching plaid tie and I bought a pair of knee high white socks and
black leather baby Jane shoes that were hi heels. I was to embarrassed
to try on most of the stuff so I took it home.

After the baby went down for a nap, I put on my outfit complete with
matching hair twisties and I was amazed. I looked just like a catholic
schoolgirl. I am sure the Nuns would have sent me home for wearing such
a short skirt but it looked hot even to me. I loosened the tie and left
only the one button between my breasts done up. I also put on Bright
red lipstick. I stood and stared at the vision of a 15 year old
schoolgirl slut. My husband never even noticed how turned on I was that
night. He did notice me being shaved and thought I did it for him. I
wore a slinky nightie to bed and the sex was great. He was more ....
well urgent then usual. Not really forceful but kind of demanding, at
least in action if not in words.

The rest of the weekend went by in a hurry. I kept telling myself I
would save the outfit for Halloween or for my husband and never go to
the studio again. Deep inside I knew I couldn't stay away. When
Tuesday finally came I packed my outfit and lipstick in my gym bag and
hurried myself, and baby out the door. I dropped him off at the
preschool and dashed over to the service station to change. The big
greasy Gas station guy leared at me again and I was sure he recognized
me. I locked the door and put on my outfit. I did button up the shirt
all the way and I was wearing white satin panties. I fluffed up my
bangs and put in pony tails that jutted out above my ears. I applied
the bright red lipstick and started packing up my bag to go. As I
leaned over to put my sweats in the bag I felt a breeze from the far
corner of the ladies room. I looked carefully and found a hole in the
wall about the size of an orange. It dawned on me that the Gas station
guy had been watching me change every time I had gone in to the studio.
I shivered with disgust but I also felt my nipples harden and my
panties moisten. I hurried quickly to my car and blushed all the way as
the Gas station man stood by the door and openly leered. Knocking on
the door a felt many mixed feelings. Fear in a way, I had only known
the men that I knew to be inside for a matter of hours really. I felt
shame for being such a slut, embarrent for acting the way I did,
and most of all, I felt raw pure excitement. This was far better than
drugs. I was intoxicated with my own lewd behavior. I knew that if I
stood and waited for some one to answer the door that once inside, I
would let them do anything they wanted to me. I almost orgasmed just
standing there. Darrian let me in. He greeted me warmly and offered me
a drink. Bill came in from the other room and soon the financial
transaction was complete. I knew from the amount of cash I put in my
purse that they intended to go all the way. Not just for themselves
like last time but on camera as well. I knew they were both going to in
affect rape me but the thought just caused my knees to go weak with
excitement.

Darrian flicked my skirt up and grabbed my white satin panties. He
pulled them hard and the wedged firmly into my pussy lips and the crack
of my ass. I whimpered but he just laughed. Bill of course was taking
closeup pictures of my distress. Darrian led me over to a desk and
picked up a set of scissors. My panties were cut from my body. He
balled them up and stuffed them firmly in my mouth. Bill smiled at me
as Darrian slipped a thin black leather studded collar around my neck.
He clipped a leash to me and hauled me to the set. Bill stopped for a
second and started a slide show on the monitor. He told me they had
sold the pictures last week and they were up on the WEB. I was
mesmerized. The beautiful woman on the screen was me. I looked sexy in
my jersey black top and skirt. I also looked helpless. The pictures I
saw never really showed any private parts, just as they had promised,
but you could tell that I wasn't wearing much. The pictures of me with
just a Black belt over my nipples were very erotic. It even showed me
in positions that you knew I was giving the huge black man, Darrian a
blowjob. And another from right in front of me as another man stood
behind me and impaled me with his huge cock. The men's faces were not
in the pictures and it didn't actually show any sex but it sure implied
it.

Darrian slipped my tie up over my collar and tightened around my neck.
He led me to a steel school desk. He had me sit on it and pushed my
legs as far apart as they would go. My ankles and then my thighs were
securely fastened to the desk. I could feel the cold steel desktop on
my nude ass. My wrists were crossed and bound tightly together. Darrian
stepped in front of me and undid my blouse. He let the tails hang. My
nipples were barely covered by the button hem of the shirt. Darrian
slipped the tie that was around my neck up and tightened it over my
mouth. My bunched up panties were forced further into my dry mouth. He
pulled the tail of the tie back and fastened it firmly to my wrists. My
head was forced back and my chest jutted lewdly out.

Bill continued to circle and take pictures. Darrian slowly almost
tenderly rolled the shirt back off of my breasts and off of my
shoulders. I was breathing erratically, not from being gagged but from
shear sexual arousal. My nipples were crinkled so tight that they
actually hurt. Even my breasts were taught from excitement. The tiny
skirt just barely covered my leaky pussy. Darrian playfully smacked my
breasts. They jiggled and sent shock waves of pain mixed with pleasure
coursing through my body. More rough hemp rope appeared as if by magic.
My chest was bound and my breasts circled until they were tight little
pillows attached to my body. Small silver clamps came next. They were
linked together with a small silver chain. My nipples were clamped and
Darrian just gently tugged on the chain and made me rock back and forth
on the desktop. On every forward roll my pussy lips smashed into the
cold steel of the desktop. My skirt was lifted and the camera was very
close as I rocked and rocked. I convulsed through a powerful orgasm and
my eyes rolled back in my head. My legs were released one at a time and
carefully bound to my shoulders. My knees were brought up all the way
up till they actually rested on my shoulders. I was laid back on the
desk looking straight up. My head hung over the back of the desk into
the seat portion. My weight was held firmly on top of my restrained
arms and my legs were up over my head. My ass was actually forced up
off the desk in this position. I could feel the strain in the tendons
between my legs. Bill and his camera were very close to my swollen
pussy lips.

He was carefully poking and prodding as he took pictures. He picked up a
vibrator and started to work on my clit. As he did so he stuck a finger
up my ass. It was degrading, painful, and so completely nasty that I
had a second orgasm. He continued to fondle my pussy lips and I was
again approaching an orgasm. Darrian took the tie out from around my
face and pulled it tight around my throat again. He then pulled the
panties out of my mouth. He proceeded to climb into the desk in the
seating area but he had removed his pants. His balls slid down over my
face and mouth. He stopped and let his manhood fall down on my face.
His nuts were just above my forehead. The magic fingers and camera
were still busy at my pussy but every time I got close Bill would stop.
I was now begging someone to fuck me. Darrian told me I made to much
noise and pushed the large plum shaped head of his cock deep into my
mouth to shut me up. Soon he was sliding his spit slick shaft in and
out of my mouth. As he went deeper and deeper my throat muscles were
being forced to stretch. He was pulling on my nipple clamps with one
hand and tightening the tie around my neck with the other. Bill was
alternating between working my pussy and taking pictures.

I realized I was on the verge of the most intense orgasm of my life and
I was going black from lack of air at the same time. I couldn't feel
pain in my nipples but I could tell that my tits had been stretched out
and the nipple clamps were biting deep into my soft flesh. Bill finally
slid the giant vibrator home. At the same instant Darrian released the
nipple clamps and blood surged back into my d nipples. I felt
wave after wave of pleasure and pain wash over my body. Darrian slipped
all the way out and hit me with a geyser of cum. I regained my senses
enough to realize Darrian was now taking pictures and Bill was pumping
his dick in and out of my pulsating cunt. My head just lolled free in
total surrender. I again shook with intense pleasure just as Bill
withdrew to shoot his cum all over my tummy.

Bill and Darrian released me and massaged the blood back into my wrists
and shoulders. I went to the restroom and sat and rested a minute. I
came out just in time to see a slide show of a schoolgirl whore getting
fucked by two men. It was hard to reconcile that the images on the
screen were actually me. I looked so helpless with my arms underneath
me and my legs over my head. I could see the look of fear and
excitement mingled on my face. The little plaid tie cut deep into my
throat and the massive black cock was wedged down my throat.

I had a soda and relaxed for a minute. I was saying my goodbyes and
straightening out my little schoolgirl outfit the best I could when
Bill asked me where I went from the Studio. I admitted that I went to a
local Gas station to change before I picked up my child. They both
laughed a little and asked if it was the Speedy Gas on the corner. I
said yes and Bill walked up to me and began readjusting my outfit. He
reached in a drawer and got out a fake diamond belly ring. It had a
dangly on it and clipped on like the old earrings did. My navel looked
pierced. He then unbuttoned all of my buttons except the one right
between my breasts and left my collar and tie loose. Darrian was
picking up a small bag and they both went out with me. I still wondered
what was up but I just went along with them.

Bill drove my car and Darrian just strolled the block down the street.
When we got there Bill made me get out. Fat greasy Gas station guy was
wiping his hands on an oily rag as he saw us. A big grin crossed his
face and he said Hi to both Bill and Darrian. He said to the
photographers I thought this little bitch was one of yours. He looked
me over from close range. I could see the lust in his eyes and smell
the beer sweating from his pours. Bill said Jim I think we could work
out a trade on the Van repair. Jim just nodded and said she better be
worth it and I want the video. Darrian took my elbow and walked me into
the men's room. In the wall was a hole . Darrian pushed me to a squat
and told me to look. Through the hole was the ladies room. Jim or
anyone else could have seen me changing every time I came to this
station.

I felt steel handcuffs snap closed over my wrists and then another pair
just above my elbows. My arms were pulled back severely. Over my
shoulder I saw Bill step in and setup a tripod with a Video camera on
it. Darrian was squatting behind me and he reached out and spread my
knees as far as they would go. He tucked my skirt hem up into the
waistband and began rubbing my shaved pussy with his hand. My tits were
straining at the single button holding my shirt together. I was already
dripping pussy juice on the dirty floor. I became aware of a huge eye
watching me through the hole. I stared back with my mouth open panting
as I again approached an orgasm. My mind couldn't fathom such a wanton
filthy act.

I was crouching in a dirty men's room, completely exposed as a stranger
watched me being molested. Darrian was sliding his fingers in and out
of my pussy. He ripped open the last button to my top and roughly
pinched my nipples. Waves of pleasure coursed from my nipples to my
pussy. I laid my head back on his shoulder and surrendered to the
feelings. Darrian roughly snapped my head up and, as I became aware of
my surroundings again, I saw a huge purple, headed cock extending out
of the hole in the wall. Darrian physically leaned me forward and took
me by the hair. He brushed my face all over the dripping cock. It
smelled of sweat and urine and grease. My mouth opened almost as a
reflex and Darrian shoved my face over the cock. My hair controlled my
head. I could feel a large powerful hand guiding my mouth up and down
on the huge dirty cock. Out of the side of my eye I could see Bill
mesmerized by the cock sliding in and out of my bulging throat.

The fingers buried in my pussy were lifted straight up. My legs extended
and I was forced to bend at the waist and swallow the entire shaft
protruding from the Men's room wall. My butt was now in the air with a
cock stuffed completely down my throat. I heard someone spit and felt
cold liquid dribble down the crack of my ass. My god, Darian was going
to sodomize me. I wanted to complain or beg him not to do it but I was
wedged tightly to the wall. The man on the other side was now furiously
fucking my face. I felt a giant spongy mass begin to put pressure on my
tiny virgin asshole. I felt pain and tried my hardest to relax my
sphincter. I could feel the massive organ stretch the tendons and
membranes surrounding my tiny hole. With a sudden push it slipped
passed into my rectum. The pain was searing and the feeling of fullness
was unbelievable. I felt so completely stuffed. It was like being on a
spit. My throat was sore and stretched from the massive organ. My arms
were still wedged tightly behind my back by the two sets of steel
handcuffs and my legs were totally relaxed. I was suspended on male
cocks.

The men were slamming me hard and fast. My ass was adjusting and I
learned how to breathe on the upstroke. I no longer gagged at the
violent penetration to my gullet. Darrian had a firm grasp on my hair
keeping my head back and my face stuck to the wall. I felt his hand
reach under us and he pinched my clit. Everything went black. Lightning
bolts coursed through my body. The pleasure was so intense I was sure I
would die from it. Suddenly the cock in my throat began spewing out
gobs of cum and I swallowed as fast as I could. Darrian stopped and let
out a loud guttural sound and began to shake so hard I could feel it
all over my body.

Darrian pulled out of my slimy asshole just as Bill started squirting
cum all over my face and hair. I collapsed into a used pile of rags.
The men packed the stuff and left. Even the smelly Gas station guy went
back to work. I put on my sweats and went to the Daycare to pick up the
baby just as they let out. One of the Ladies asked me if my workout was
fun and I told her yes it was with sweat still glistening on my face
and cum dribbling from my asshole.

The baby went down for his nap and I took a long soaking tub bath. I
looked myself over and most of the marks were already gone. We had an
uneventful dinner and as I got the baby ready for bed my husband went
to his home office and started working. I just wondered if I had the
will to stop.

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