Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: N/A
|Introduction: I never thought this story would last this long. I expected to tell it through the first summer. It's now taking on a life of its own. If you don't mind, I'd like to keep writing it until I found out where it goes. Thanks!|
My first practice at quarterback was….interesting. I looked like a freshman playing quarterback, that’s for sure. To my credit, I completed almost all of my pass attempts. To my dismay, more of those completions were to the defense than the offense. Coach Kennedy never lost his cool, but I could sense the stress in his voice. After fifteen minutes of watching me throw perfect spirals to the wrong side, we started running the wishbone plays that allowed my speed and smarts to have more of an impact than my arm. Things were better, but not by much. After practice, Coach asked me to stick around.
In the coach’s office after my shower, he and Coach Ross, the position coach for quarterbacks, started drilling me on the X’s and O’s. I was perfectly comfortable with this. I knew where everyone was supposed to be and when, but I didn’t know how to translate that knowledge into actions that led to yardage gained. We stuck at it for an hour and a half until we were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Sorry to barge in Coach,” said my dad, kind of quietly. “I was just wondering if there was something wrong? All the other players left a while ago.”
“Pete! Come on in. You did a remarkable job with Paul here in just two days. Coach Ross and I are just trying to come up with a way to turn your remarkable son into a chip off the old block,” gushed Coach Kennedy. I am embarrassed to say gushed, but for a man like Coach Kennedy to praise both my father and I in the same sentence seemed like a lot of gush. “Why don’t you join us? Do you mind, Paul?” I shook my head no.
For another two hours we went over about everything that makes up the game of football except how to play quarterback. It was Philosophy of Football 500, a graduate course in understanding football. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed listening to these good men talking about something they clearly loved and understood so well. I think we’d have stayed all night if my stomach hadn’t growled so loudly that sounded like someone stuffed a bobcat in a burlap sack.
“Holy smokes!” cried Coach Kennedy. “Look at the time. Let’s wrap it up. Please tell that beautiful wife of your I am so sorry for keeping you two men out so late. Ask her to forgive me. But if it’s all right, I’d like to do this every night after practice for a while. “
“It would be our pleasure,” replied my father with a sincere sparkle in his eye. At some point I was going to get him to tell me about his high school football days and ask him why he didn’t take his talent to the next level. But tonight I left it alone. We stopped at the A&W restaurant on the way home. I got a bacon cheeseburger, fries and an eggnog milkshake. I have always been fond of eggnog and this was my first eggnog milkshake. It has been a lifelong indulgence for me since that fall night. The burger tided me over until we got home. Then we had supper together as a family.
My mother fries the best fried chicken in the world, bar none. She soaks her chicken in buttermilk and then dips it in seasoned flour and then fries it in an old heavy cast iron skillet in Crisco oil. When she’s done, she pours all the oil into a mayonnaise jar to be used again, and the wonderful sticky bits remain. To these she adds a couple tablespoons of flour and stirs them about with a wooden spoon until she has a brown roux filled with fried bits. She adds several cups of milk and in just a few minutes she has the most delicious chicken gravy ever concocted.
Dinner had been waiting in the oven when dad and I pulled up. We all gathered around the table and ate supper as a real family. My sister Becka kept kicking me under the table, as little sisters who want attention do, but I didn’t react. It was late. I was tired and sore. I really needed to eat, do some studying and get to bed. Then I’d like to go to sleep, but Becka, as usual had other plans. When supper was over, I moved to help do the dishes. My dad took my playbook and headed for his reading chair. My sister had homework so she spread it out on the coffee table across from my dad so he could help. This left me in the kitchen, helping my mom. She tried to shoo me out, but I stayed behind. Partly because I wanted a break from thinking, reading and talking about football. Partly because I had other motives. She washed. I leaned against the counter and dried, so I could see her face. We shared some small talk and whenever the opportunity showed itself, I made a habit of touching her. I even managed to brush against her ass a few times, only to have her gently rebuff my overtures. The more she denied me, the more I desired her.
“Pauly, you’ve got to stop,” she whispered. “It’s not right. Not with your own mother.” I ignored her and continued to caress her in passing, once letting my hand linger on her butt, lightly caressing her crack. I imagined her resolve was waning. Then she pushed my hand away. “NO!” she mouthed. But her eyes betrayed her. Her eyes said “Not yet.”
In bed that night, too tired to sleep, restless from the stress of the new position and the responsibilities that went along with it, I was glad my little sister had an insatiable appetite for my cock. I let her climb on top of me, suck my erection until I was nearly ready to blow, then ride it on the outside of her pussy like we first started. When I blasted all over my chest and stomach, she lapped it up and curled against my chest. I was asleep when she climbed off and went back to her own bed.
I was up before dawn, as usual. I headed for the bus with my lunch pail and school books. I hardly paid attention to the ride until we pulled up to the only stop that mattered. At the stop where Katie Schultz boarded the bus, my spirits were instantly raised. I think about seeing her climb on the bus and it still brings a smile to my face. She got on the bus that morning in a pleated blue skirt, white knee high socks, green rubber boots and a red sweater over her white blouse. She was also sporting an umbrella and a green rubber raincoat. I hadn’t even noticed it started to rain. She removed her raincoat as she plopped down next to me and hung it on the back of the seat in front of us. Whether she meant to or not, she created a curtain that would hide us from prying eyes. I immediately saw an opportunity. We ducked down low until only the tops of our heads were visible to passengers in front of us. Then we started kissing and whispering. There in the back of that yellow school bus, we were cut off from the rest of the world, no matter how many other kids got on. Some mornings the junior high kids wanted to know all about what had happened at the football game the previous Friday night. Of course the news of Jack Baldwin’s injury had been the topic of discussion all over the county. Of course the speculation of what had occurred when Jack’s brothers had been kicked off the team for an egregious act of retaliation for what was really a clean hit was now the hot topic.
Our isolated reverie was interrupted by the eighth graders who wanted to know if it was true that I was going to be the new quarterback for the 8-1 Centerville Warriors. I admitted it appeared so. I still chuckle at the looks of concern they gave me. I was no Jack Baldwin so I couldn’t blame them.
School was more of the same. Strangers felt perfectly comfortable giving me their opinion on my prospects as quarterback. I got several graphic descriptions of how badly I was going to be mangled if we managed to make it through the last three games of the regular season and into the playoffs. Fortunately, those descriptions didn’t depict my death, as my own tremulous fears predicted. Worse than death, I imagined I might embarrass my coach, my school, my family. Katie kept my spirits up. Joe and James kept smiles on their faces. They were even apologetic to me at lunch, letting me know that it was the right thing for Coach Kennedy to kick them off the team and that they would be there for me, at every game. I didn’t know that their father insisted that they go to all the games so they could see firsthand what their loss of control had caused for their team.
After practice, my father would join me in the cramped coach’s office and together we would go over plays, strategy, when to call for a time out, how to keep the clock moving. During practice I got all the reps. Coach Kennedy has put all of his eggs into one basket. The week passed quickly and before I knew it, it was Friday night and we were playing at home, hosting Chase High. Chase was a so-so team. They beat teams they should and lost to teams that were better. Their one bright shining star was their middle linebacker, Oscar Henning. Everyone at Chase High called him Oscar the Grouch. Everyone else called him Psycho Oscar from Chase. If he ever got in a good mood, he’d be merely surly. During games, he was downright homicidal. I heard rumors that the kept him caged up at half-time and fed him raw meat between the bars. One look at his drooling, slobbering mug during warm-ups convinced me he hadn’t had his rabies shots updated in a while.
Coach Kennedy determined that we would run, my passing was pretty suspect, and we’d run to the outside, hoping to get around the corner before Psycho could bite anyone. Chase won the toss and received. Four plays later they had punted, and I was trotting out onto the field for my first start at Centerville High. It was eerily quiet on the field. The only noise I could hear were the rat-a-tat-tat of my heartbeat and the panting and woofing coming out of Psycho Oscar. The first play was a toss sweep to the right and just as I released the ball to the tailback, my world exploded in a shower of pain. Unblocked and with a full head of steam, Oscar Henning had blown me up. As I struggled to get up, all the fear had left my body. Now I was pissed. I trotted back to the huddle and refused to look over at Coach Kennedy. If I saw fear or concern in his eyes, I was afraid I would come apart. Instead I picked enough mud out of my face mask to make myself heard. I crossed my forearms in front of my chest, signaling for a full house package. Coach Ross immediately sent in the second tight end. Coach Kennedy looked down to the clipboard that had our first ten plays scripted. Second play of my first start, I was already off the reservation.
“Double jumbo bootleg left. Rusty, catch the damn ball!” I called for both tight ends to line up on the left side, sent the running backs to the right, and I would run left alone. If I had learned anything in my late night sessions with the coaches, was that given a set of circumstances that were different than expected, the defense would react by doing what it was programmed and would not improvise. I was counting on them not improvising or calling timeout. A timeout would be bad for me. Then I would have had to explain to a coaching legend that was winning state titles before I was born, that I was playing a hunch. Not a conversation the first freshman football player in Centerville History wanted to have. No, not at all.
We came to the line and the two linebackers lined up left, the full house backfield was behind me. I could hear the Chase High coaches screaming coverage changes. The defenders had to cover the tight ends, overloading the left. When the ball reached my hands, the backfield took off to the right, and I staggered to the left, as if I was going the wrong way. The ruse worked and the entire defense collapsed on our line. I pivoted behind the left tackle, saw Rusty streaking down the far sideline and heaved. That pass was not a thing of beauty. Coach described it as a wounded duck, fluttering across the field, looking for a place to die. I didn’t get to see it, my face was covered by Psycho Oscar and I was crushed under a mound of his teammates. But I could hear the screaming and I knew that Rusty had caught the ball and galloped unchallenged to the end zone, with the full back providing an escort.
After running it in for a two point conversion, I trotted over to Coach Kennedy and he had half a smirk on his face. “I guess this is what I get for starting a FRESHman at QB. I think I might have created a monster. From now on, run the plays I call. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” was the only answer I could possibly give that would allow me to live.
The score took the wind out of the sails of Chase High. Even Oscar the Grouch couldn’t keep up with our dives and stunts. I didn’t throw another pass that game and we ended up winning 48-7. By half time, the loss of Jack Baldwin was forgotten and the Paul David Era had begun. It made me sad. Jack Baldwin’s football career deserved a majestic end with a state championship. He was still in traction at Samaritan Hospital. It wasn’t fair.
After the game we crossed the field to shake hands with the players from Chase High. Head Coach Jim Steele shook my hand and wished me luck for the next four years and promised to get us next time. Oscar the Grouch sought me out. With his helmet off, he looked a lot more human. “Good game, number eight,” he said. “I’m glad I am going to OSU next year and don’t have to chase your skinny ass again.”
“Best of luck,” was the only retort I could come up with. Lame, I know, but my late night tutor sessions didn’t cover the post-game handshakes. I was out of my element.
Our friends and family waited for us to march off the field and we lingered a few minutes, accepting hugs and attaboys. Rusty’s dad came over and gave me a good ribbing about the touchdown pass. James and Joe Baldwin clapped me on the shoulder and told me to find them later, there was a party in the grove at Veteran’s Park. My family gathered around me and gave me hugs. Becka wouldn’t let me go, she just hugged my waist and I didn’t mind. Even when Katie came up in her cute little cheer outfit and jumped up and kissed me on the cheek. Her mother and father also congratulated me. Katie’s cousin Krissy also congratulated me and then boldly asked my parents if it was alright if she gave me a ride to the victory celebration and then assured them she would take good care of me and make sure I got home in one piece. She went on to say how this was a historic moment in Centerville history and it would be a shame if I wasn’t allowed to bask in the adulation of my many fans, at least this once, on such a grand occasion. I thought she laid it on pretty thick, but my mom took a glance at Katie and then at me, and before my dad could protest, she OK’d it. Then she leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek and warned me in a whisper, “Be careful of Krissy. And treat Katie right. If you need a ride, call.” Then she made me promise to meet them at the A & W for burgers and floats before going to the Grove.
When we arrived at Veteran’s Park, the party was in full swing. The younger Baldwins were sitting on the tailgate of the green Datsun when I strolled up between Katie and Krissy Schultz.
“Good game, Thorhammer,” joked James. “You played well enough to be a Baldwin. Are you sure your mom didn’t know our dad?”
“No,” I replied. “But I hear tell your mom and my dad used to be pretty close.”
“Hey, watch it! That’s our dear old mother you are besmirching,” added Joe. We stood around the back of the pickup, perfectly content to stay there for the evening and not go further into the park where the real party was. I didn’t drink at the time and didn’t want to be associated with those who did. I just hung around the fringe with my girlfriend and enjoyed the friendship of my pipe crew.
“Jack gets out of traction this week. Then he’s on crutches for six or eight weeks. Poor bastard still has to keep up his schoolwork. Joe and I bring it to him every day. You should come and see him.”
“I will,” I promised.
“Paul, will you walk me to the restrooms? I have to go,” asked Katie quietly.
“Sure. Guys, we’ll be right back.” They scoffed.
“Not likely. But we’ll be here just in case.”
We took off walking around the party to where the restrooms were located in the Douglas fir trees. As we approached in the near darkness, Katie tugged on my hand and down the path into the forest we went. When we were far enough out of sight to avoid discovery, we were all over each other. I pulled up her sweater and bra and attacked her breasts with fervor. She responded by unbuckling my pants and pulling them down past my knees. Then she knelt on my coat and took my cock into her mouth in one smooth swallow. Oh GOD how I missed her mouth on my dick. She can still suck cock like a teenage cheerleader. I couldn’t take much and I pushed a load of juice right down her throat into her stomach. I wasn’t finished. My cock stayed hard and I pulled her to her feet. I reached under her skirt and pulled her cheer bloomers and panties down so she could step out of them. Then I picked her up and she wrapped her legs around my waist. My rigid member found her moist pussy and I let her settle down on my shaft until she was fully impaled. We stood there in the forest and fucked. While we fucked we kissed. I could feel her naked breasts pressed against my shirt covered chest. She leaked her orgasmic juices down my shaft and coated my balls. The smell was intoxicating. It inspired me to pick up the pace. I fucked Katie Schultz until my knees got weak and I could take no more. I pulled her down on my rod and filled her womb with my seed. She squeezed me with both her arms and her legs while she joined me in orgiastic release.
I didn’t want to put her down. I stayed buried in her until she finally begged to get down.
“You’d better put me down, Paul. Now I really have to pee.” We both laughed. We felt around in the darkness and got our clothes back on and in some semblance of order. Then we strolled out of the darkness back into the semi light of the Grove and we both went into the bathrooms. We made our way back to the truck.
“Where have you two kids been?” teased James. “Did you fall in?”
“No, we just went for a walk.”
“Must have been some kind of walk, Katie here got her skirt turned all the way around wherever you were walking.” She looked down and realized she’d been duped. The Baldwins cracked up at her confirmation that she might have been compromised. She just smiled and hugged my arm and basked in the post orgasmic glow of a young woman in love. Try as they might, the Baldwins were not going to get Katie flustered. She was too smart for them.
Krissy collected us a little after midnight. I had work in a few hours and I needed to get some sleep. True to her word, she got us home safe and sound. She dropped me off first and Katie walked me to the door. We kissed and promised to be true until Monday, when we would meet again on the bus. I was beginning to look forward to my sixteenth birthday and my own car.
Inside my house, everyone was in bed and asleep. I undressed and climbed into my own bed. The nights were too chilly now to sleep with the window open, so my room was pitch dark when I entered. I sat on the edge of the bed and realized I was not alone. Becka had curled up and gone to sleep in my bed. I thought about just sleeping in her bed, but her bed was shorter than mine and not that comfortable. I stripped naked and slipped into the gym shorts I wear to sleep in. I slid in behind her and pressed my belly against her back. She was nice and warm and really made a good snuggle bunny. She stirred but didn’t waken.
I woke up the next morning with Becka still in my arms and my now hard dick pressing against her pajama clad behind. I thought about slipping it under her waistband and rubbing her until I came, but I needed to get to work. I got out of bed and staggered into the kitchen where my mother was working over the stove, making buttermilk pancakes. She was wearing a short pink nightgown, leaving her pale white legs exposed for my appreciation. I could see her matching pink satin panties exposed at the bottom. I poured a cup of coffee and sat at the table, appreciating the view. When my mother turned to hand me my breakfast, she could see the tent in my shorts caused by my morning wood. She paused to appreciate the implication and then handed me my fuel for the morning, a stack of six large pancakes and six fresh fried eggs, with the yolks runny. I loved to put the eggs on the pancakes and then pour maple syrup over the whole stack.
“Would you like some more coffee?” she asked.
“Yes’m.” I replied. Instead of taking my cup to the pot, she brought the pot to the table and leaned over to pour me a refill. This exposed her full breasts to my direct gaze. They were still firm. The nipples were dark and taut. She paused to let me enjoy the view. When she finally turned to put the pot back, I rose silently and followed her. As soon as her hand left the pot, I circled her waist with my arms and pulled her back against my engorged organ. It slipped between her legs and rode against her cunt.
“Stop!” she hissed. I could not. I began to thrust against her, cloth on cloth. She stopped protesting and put her hands against the counter and braced against my movements. I released her waist and cupped her full breasts, circling her nipples with my thumbs and forefingers. I slid both hands down her stomach and under her top. My left hand returned to her breasts and my right slid under the waistband of her panties. I felt the wild thatch that covered my mother’s pussy. I ran my fingers through that hair while I pounded against her from behind. I was getting close. My mother could sense it and pulled away from my grasp. She knelt down and exposed my cock to her mouth. With a hungry gulp she had it almost in her throat. One full stroke was all it took. I came so hard I started seeing black spots swimming in front of my eyes. When I stopped spurting, she stood up, adjusted her outfit and said, “You’d better eat. Your breakfast is getting cold.”
I adjusted my shorts around my finally deflating cock and attacked that breakfast like it was the last meal on earth.
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