Victory Tour (Part 265)

Practice turned out to be mostly uneventful. I don't know if Coach Tucker said anything, but for the most part the defense stayed far enough away from me to not cause any problems. And I didn't go looking for them.

The biggest controversy, if you could call it that, was the scout offense wanted me to serenade them again. Or at least use song lyrics instead of signals.

So, of course, the coaches didn't. They wanted me to use the Wildcats' regular snap count. The defense needed to know what it sounded like.

It wouldn't have been so bad if whoever selected today's music hadn't just popped in a Rolling Stones greatest hits CD. I'm pretty sure it was a homemade disc. The sound quality wasn't the greatest and the song order seemed pretty random. Or maybe they'd just selected random play.

The scout teamers kept badgering me about it as we ran through all the Wing-T plays we knew, which turned out to be quite a lot. I almost gave in on "Jumpin' Jack Flash." That number just seemed made for the situation.

As we approached the end of the segment, I finally caved when the boys choir started up just as we broke the huddle to run another trap play.

"I saw her today at the reception," I called out as the line got set. "A wine glass in her ..."

"CUT THE CRAP, ROBINSON!" Coach Fuller shouted. "Just play it straight."

"Well, guys, I guess ya can't always get what ya want," I snorted. "SET, HUT!"

We finished the segment as "Honky Tonk Women" cranked up. I really would've gotten in trouble for reciting the lyrics to that one. I was surprised the coaches let it play.

After practicing fair catching punts for a while in the special teams segment, we worked on the starburst kickoff return a few times. Coach Ramirez also had us try a return where if a kick came to me, I'd pitch to Ronnell on what was basically a speed option toward the wall of blockers. I was in favor of simply tossing Ronnell the ball as soon as I got it in my hands, especially after Marshawn got to force the pitch. Rather forcefully.

I guess he was willing to risk 50 gassers one last time. He wouldn't get any more chances this week.

That may have had something to do with my mood as we worked on our fake kicks and fire drills. Most of my passes were on target and actually spiraled. There were a couple, though, that came close to hitting a certain linebacker just about belt-high, maybe a little lower.

The ball slipped. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

"Supermodel betta watch out," Marshawn growled after he was forced to protect the family jewels one more time.

"I'll make ya a deal, Marshawn," I smirked before returning to the huddle. "Behave and you can stay intact. One more hit ... well, Miss Aldridge might lose interest."

I couldn't tell if Marshawn took me seriously or not — his expression indicated he didn't trust crazy white folks — but I didn't get hit again.

Gassers, huddle, "TEAM!" on three, followed by this week's version of Coach Tucker's the-hay's-in-the-barn speech. It was win-or-go-home from here on out. We really didn't want to deal with the embarrassment that would come with a first-round exit. And on our home field, no less.

I was ready to get my shower and hit study hall when my day took another turn. Dad and Grandpa were among the onlookers and started moving my direction when Coach cut us loose. Neither was smiling. I got the feeling this wasn't going to be much fun.

I hate it when I'm right about that kind of stuff.

"What can I do for you gentlemen?" I asked, battling to maintain a placid expression as they approached.

"Your mother wants you to come home," Dad said rather grimly as Grandpa stood by, apparently ready to play peacemaker. "She has something she wants to discuss with you."

"I have plans," I stated flatly. "Elise Stirling wants to work on an assignment that's due tomorrow. I'm supposed to meet her at 7:30."

"Look," Dad sighed, "I don't know what beef you two have with each other and I'm not sure I want to. I'm just following orders here."

"Ask the guys from Nuremberg how well that excuse worked for them," I snorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dad snapped.

"That I'm not going to willingly walk into one of her ambushes," I said. "She's already pulled one stunt today that could've gotten me in trouble. And she knew exactly what she was doing."

"What'd she do?" Grandpa asked mildly before Dad could.

"Called me during class when she knows I'm not supposed to use my phone in school," I said. "Lord knows she's lectured me about that kind of thing before. I get in trouble at school, I'm in more trouble at home. I don't appreciate being set up like that! She wants to chew on me for some manufactured reason, she can come do it in person."

"She's not going to like that," Dad said. "She's not real happy with you as it is."

"Tell her happiness is a choice," I said, falling back on the old standby. "She's choosing to be unhappy. I think it's in my best interest to stay out of range until she calms down."

"You know it's only going to be worse when she does get hold of you," Dad said.

"Which would you rather have?" I asked. "A full-blown screaming match tonight or just her griping about me? I've put up with enough crap from people this week. I'm not looking for more, but I won't be steamrolled."

"I hope you realize what you're gettin' yourself into," Dad muttered, turning to take his leave. "Don't say I didn't warn ya."

Grandpa waited until his son was out of earshot to speak.

"You'd better get inside," he said quietly. "Your study buddy might not want to be around ya if ya smell like sweaty socks."

"Yes, sir," I grunted, wasting no time in following his advice.

I zipped through a shower that I hoped got the worst of the stink off me, dressed and hauled the backpack back to the team room. It was time for study hall.

Cody and Zoe waved me over before I was fully through the door. The wanted to go over the Algebra II assignment that was due tomorrow. I took advantage of the situation to scan Zoe's notes from today's lecture, figuring that'd get me mostly caught up.

Several guys wanted to get a look at the website I was using for "Hamlet," willing to trade their notes from class. Like yesterday, they were mostly just brief comments from Dr. Robinson as they read Act II, Scene 2. I found it somewhat amusing that Karen cited my performance in the cafeteria in explaining things to the afternoon classes.

Chuck hung around after that to get me caught up on Economics, then Riley had some Western Civ to update me on. Mrs. Edwards focused on Suleiman the Magnificent's leadership of the Ottoman army's march to Vienna. She'd get into the Austrians' response over the next couple of days. The siege itself would take up next week, which would have only three class days because of Thanksgiving.

Elise confirmed she would meet me at the Osborne house around 7:30 as I loaded up and prepared to head out. I was ready to eat and she had to get home. I somehow managed to get smooches from three of my girlfriends before I got out the door. I think some of my teammates were a bit jealous.

I had to pass back by my locker to get my letter jacket, which led to the next bit of fun. Grandpa stepped out of Coach Tucker's office before I could complete my escape.

"You done?" Grandpa asked. "I could go for some barbecue. And a ride."

"You didn't go with Dad?" I asked as I pulled on the jacket.

"Figured I'd let ’im go deal with Claire on his own," he snorted. "Ain't my fight and it ain't gonna be. Besides, I thought I'd visit with John on his turf for once."

It took me a second to realize he meant Coach Tucker. I don't think I've heard anyone use the man's first name since he introduced himself to me back in July. As far as I knew, "Coach" was on his birth certificate.

I hoped my Grandfather left enough of him to do his job. The team was going to need him for however many weeks we could keep the season going. And Aunt Patty wouldn't be too pleased if her father ran off another boyfriend.

"We'd better hurry," I said, shouldering the backpack. "I've got a little over an hour before Elise comes over."

I used my key fob to unlock doors and trunk as soon as I was in range of the Beemer, dropping the backpack in the trunk as Grandpa tried to fold himself into the passenger seat.

"You need to get somethin' with more legroom," he groused as I slid behind the wheel.

I think my grandfather was showing his age. Guys like Jed and Chuck, who were both taller and much bulkier, managed to squeeze in without too much trouble.

I didn't even bother to ask where he wanted to go, my car heading to Cookshack almost like it'd been programmed to. Besides, I needed some red meat after getting shorted on breakfast and lunch. I could only wonder how many times my grandfather had eaten there this week. You'd think he was investing in the place, not Grandma. Hell, maybe they both were.

While Grandpa went for his usual combo plate, I went for something a little different. But only a little. Becky and/or Earl had added what they were calling "meat bowls" to the menu. A quarter pound of meat — chopped brisket, ham, turkey, sausage, your choice — topped by as many scoops of pinto beans as you could fit on top. A fresh pan of cornbread added to the allure.

Like I said, it wasn't all that different from getting a plate or sandwich. It was still brisket and beans. The cornbread was the biggest change. I did forego onions and jalapeños. Elise might want to do more than just homework.

I noticed they were also offering all-you-can-eat beans and cornbread on Saturdays. I might have to try that now that the weather was getting cooler. I made sure to point it out to Grandpa.

"Pretty much grew up on that," he said. "There were some years we were just glad to have a hog to butcher to add to the beans."

Looks like nostalgia only went so far. Or maybe he didn't want to deal with Grandma if he came home a little too gassy. He could piss and fart all he wanted out at the farm. Her house was for civilized folks.

Grandpa paid, we got our drinks and found seats in what was a rather full dining room for a Wednesday night. I half expected to see some of the Tri-Star guys in attendance.

"Not that Doug didn't warn ya," Grandpa said as we tucked in, "but you're gonna have to deal with your mother one of these days."

"And I'd prefer to do so when I don't have a ton of other stuff goin' on," I said. "Maybe Thanksgiving weekend. Right now, I've got school and football to deal with. Bad enough one of the teachers is out to get me."

"Which teacher?" he asked, pausing just long enough to speak before forking more smoked meat into his mouth.

"Fella named Hennings," I said. "He's tried to get on me every day this week. Seems to think I'm gonna bring about the downfall of civilization if he doesn't stop me. Karen can probably give you a better picture. She's been around the last couple of times he's pulled his act."

"Well, watch yourself," Grandpa said. "Try to stay out of his line of sight."

"Workin' on it," I grunted. "Gonna start goin' off campus for lunch. Most of it's happened in the cafeteria because of Rhonda Devers."

"Who's that?"

"A girl who doesn't approve of me," I said. "Seems to have a lot in common with Mom. We were paired for a Creative Writing assignment a couple of weeks ago. It hasn't helped that she's taken up with Marie. She started to lay into me Monday and I was able to get away from her when George called me. Then she looked like she was gonna do it again today before changing her mind. Never said a word to each other, but that was enough for this Hennings to come after me again."

"I'll have a word with the security folks," Grandpa said. "I know they aren't supposed to interfere with school matters, but this sounds a little fishy."

"Just know that I haven't started anything," I said. "I've just been targeted by folks who want to see me punished for whatever sin they've convinced themselves I'm guilty of."

"You're still gonna have to deal with your mother," he reiterated, "but I'm afraid history — especially family history — is workin' against ya."

"How so?" I asked.

"Kids your age assertin' their independence when their mothers aren't ready to let go," he said. "Hell, Cain prolly went through it with Eve."

"Well, she'd better get ready," I spat. "She's been lecturin' me since I was in junior high about how I'm gonna have to stand on my own when I get to college. Now, she gets her panties in a bunch when I show I can."

"Preachin' to the choir, boy," my grandfather snorted. "When I was your age, it was all I could do to not strike out on my own. I only stayed around so I could graduate. Droppin' out woulda been worse than gettin' some gal pregnant. I'd already decided I was gonna enlist just as soon as I could save up bus fare to the nearest recruitin' station. Your great-grandmother was almost too happy when my draft notice came the week after graduation. If I'd hung around much longer, I think she'da bought the damn ticket herself, as much grief as she claimed I caused her."

That was a bit of family history I'd never heard. About all I knew of the woman, who died a couple of years before I was born, was she dropped out of school at 15 to get married and had seven kids before she figured out what was causing them. I remembered hearing Grandpa bought a house in town for her as soon as he mustered out and made sure her bills were covered. I guess he didn't want her too close once he started running the farm.

"Your father wasn't much better," Grandpa continued. "We moved him out to the barn before Millie could wring his neck. At home, anyway. I don't know how she kept from doin' it at school. After that, I just had to keep every father of his girlfriends from comin' around with shotguns. I don't think I had a good night's sleep until we shipped him off to college."

As fascinating as I found the lecture, I got the feeling Grandpa was just building up to me. It took him nearly his entire meal to get there, but he eventually did.

"What's this about you offerin' John a job?" he asked.

"I didn't expect him to take me seriously," I said after swallowing my last bite. "I made a comment about hiring somebody to take crap for me and asked if he wanted the job. After the deal at lunch and the call from Mom, I'd had enough for one day."

"Better be careful about that kinda thing," Grandpa said. "Somebody might take ya up on it one of these days. It's one thing to have that kinda money, but ya shouldn't go braggin' about it. There's all kindsa folks out there who'd only be too willin' to lighten your wallet."

"Yes, sir," I mumbled.

"You'd better be gettin' me home," he said once his plate was empty. "Millie's s'posed to have one o' their cobblers in the kitchen. Get there fast enough, might even beat your cousins to the last bite. And your lady friend prolly shouldn't be kept waitin.' It's a school night, after all."

"Yes, sir," I said, gathering up the trash and disposing of our trays.

"Earl, y'all take care," Grandpa called out as we made our way to the exit.

"Yes, sir," the pit boss called back. "See ya tomorrow?"

"If the missus lets me out," Grandpa snorted. "Maybe a small sandwich around 5:30 or 6 to get me through the game."

"I bet we can get ya fixed up," Earl replied. "Tell your junior partner, there, to bring us home a win. We do better business on Saturdays when they do."

"Ya hear that, boy?" Grandpa smirked.

"Yes, sir," I grinned.

It took a good 20 minutes to reach the new house, the traffic lights being against us the whole way. That left me maybe 10 minutes before I was supposed to meet Elise at the Osborne house.

Fortunately, Grandpa just wanted to gauge our chances against the Wildcats on Friday night. He wasn't willing to bet real money on us only to watch us shit the bed.

"I think we're in good shape," I said as we waited through another red light. "I don't think their defense can stop our offense if we just hold onto the ball. Their offense might be able to get something on us, but our defense is fast enough to chase people down even if they do get fooled on a play. Giving up 10 or 20 yards won't be as bad as giving up 60."

Grandpa was also wise enough to send me on my way rather than invite me in once I reached our destination. We were both of the opinion that my grandmother and cousins (and maybe Karen if she was around) would all demand a piece of my time and I didn't want to keep Elise waiting.

As it was, I was still a little late, but Elise wasn't waiting on the front stoop. Another break was when I opened the door on an empty garage. That made me wonder if Karen and/or Chanda had begun moving in yet.

I retrieved the backpack and entered a dark house, finally finding a light switch that illuminated the little hallway. That gave me enough light to find my way to the office, which had been transformed.

The desk had been placed closer to the door on one of those plastic mats. Behind it was a chair that George Patterson might covet. The west wall contained a four-drawer filing cabinet along with two racks of wire shelves like were in the apartment. Sadly, these shelves didn't hold my clothes. Yet. That'd be another weekend project.

The crowning touch, in my mind, lay along the back wall. A lounge chair that appeared to be well padded and looked big enough for two if they didn't mind close contact. It wasn't a queen bed, by any means, but looked bigger than a single. I thought it'd be a good place to take a nap. I couldn't wait to try it out.

Before I could do more than put the backpack on the desk and hang my jacket on the doorknob, the doorbell rang. I hurried to answer, finding Elise in a set of sweats that may have been purloined from the fieldhouse.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, greeting me with a smooch as she stepped inside. "I need a bathroom. Now!"

I stood back and pointed to the office as my tall girlfriend raced around the couch toward the open doorway.

Figuring I should let her have her privacy, I went to check out the kitchen. The only new addition I could see was a coffee maker with a rack holding about a dozen mugs on the counter along the east wall. I may be looking at getting the items I wanted — microwave, toaster oven, George Foreman grill — myself, but I was willing to wait a few more days. Grandma had done quite a bit already and I hadn't even been upstairs yet.

Any thought of doing so was put on hold when I heard water pipes in the wall behind the sink start to rattle. I was not aware they did that. Might want to call a plumber. Or at least make sure the kitchen was empty whenever I flushed the office toilet. No sense in advertising what I was up to.

The good news, I think, was it meant Elise was finished with her business. I was trying to remember some of my answers on the Chemistry assignment as I headed to the office. Elise wasn't quite done — I heard the tap on the bathroom sink start up as she washed her hands — when I got there. I was digging around in the backpack looking for my Chemistry book when the bathroom door opened.

My jaw bounced off the floor as Elise stepped out carrying her book bag. She'd ditched the sweats and was now (almost) wearing a Paige Turner outfit. There were acres of cleavage and underboob on display as she'd obviously ditched her bra, too. If she'd even bothered with one in the first place. I don't think the micromini was meant for a girl of her height. It barely came down far enough to cover the important parts. I kept expecting a flash of her panties as she took a step toward me.

"Uh, we're not gonna get much work done if you're dressed like that," I finally said as she sashayed my direction.

"Riley helped me finish in study hall," she smirked as she drew near enough to set her bag on the desk. It was also near enough that I could easily make out her areolae through the thin fabric of the top. "But, since I already had permission to come over, I thought I should take advantage of the opportunity."

I was about to ask if her parents, or at least her mother, knew she had such an ensemble in her wardrobe, but she looped her arms around my neck and proceeded to suck the thought clean out of my head. Along with however many brain cells and maybe a couple of fillings.

"We should try out your new furniture," she purred upon letting me come up for air.

"Huh?" I gasped.

"The bed/chair thing over here," she said, tugging on my arm. "It looks comfy. And it'll be more private than the couch in the living room. Wouldn't want your aunt to see something she shouldn't."

That snapped me back to reality. Karen had caught me with my dick in another woman enough for one week. I took a moment to close the office door, necessitating I move my jacket and put it on the desk, before following my tall girlfriend like a lost puppy.

Elise waited until I joined her, pushing me into the reclining seat before crawling on top of me. More brain cells and possibly another filling were lost and two sizeable dents were placed in my torso as she took advantage of the opportunity.

I just let her have free rein, which might not have been the wisest course of action once I felt her hands start to work on my belt and pants.

"You don't have to be in such a hurry," I gasped as she lowered my zipper. "We've still got a couple of hours."

"For one round," she panted as she tried to work slacks and boxers down my legs. "I've just been so horny this evening, ever since Marie ..."

Her blush appeared at the greatest intensity I'd ever seen from the girl as her voice trailed off. The shiver that made her tits wobble couldn't have just been because of my proximity.

"Ever since Marie did what?" I demanded, wondering what kind of games my bisexual pet was playing with these girls. "What did she do to you, Elise?"

"Nothing bad," Elise swore, "just ... embarrassing to talk about. I wasn't expecting it to do this to me."

"What did she do?" I demanded again, about ready to march across the alley to confront Marie myself. Even if I to do so with a rampant hardon leading the way. (Yeah, better not. Marie might think it was for her.)

"She gave me an enema," Elise mumbled, somehow blushing even more. "Then she gave me a little toy to put in my butt. It's been driving me crazy all night!"

"She gave you a buttplug?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Elise said, standing, turning and pulling up the micromini to show me her ass with the handle barely visible between her cheeks. No panties to flash at me. "Even using lots of lube, it's kept me on the edge of coming ever since I put it in. I don't know how I made it through dinner without screaming."

"You know what it's for, don't you?" I asked, somehow keeping a straight face.

"Marie said it helps make the enemas easier to deal with," Elise said. "They give me stomach cramps every time I have one."

"And how many enemas has she given you?" I asked, feeling my cock stiffen even more.

"One a week since we started helping her clean Arlene's house," the tall girl said. "They helped with volleyball. I felt so much lighter on the court knowing I didn't have a load of crap in my guts. Riley swears it helped her play better. Ny'Quesha said she runs faster after one."

"All three of you?" I asked, surprised Marie had actually gotten them to go along with it.

"And some of the others," Elise said. "I know Staci gets them to help with cheerleading. Bethany said she makes sure she gets one every time it's her turn to go out with you. I don't know why, though. I think Bonnie and Lupita each had one the other day when we had lunch, maybe a couple of others."

The mental image of so many hot girls inserting those little hoses in their backsides had my dick taking notice.

"Do you want to take it out?" I asked.

"Yes, but I'm afraid I'll make a mess," Elise whimpered. "I keep feeling like I have to go. I thought I'd have an accident before I made it to the pot when I got here."

"I bet you can make it to the pot from here," I said, battling mightily not to smirk. "Just try not to drop it in the bowl. And don't flush if you do."

"OK," Elise squeaked, taking the first tentative step toward the bathroom.

Once again, I felt giving the girl privacy to tend to business the wise choice. Elise had another idea, though.

"Could you help me?" she called out. "I can't reach it while I'm sitting down and I'd better not stand up right now."

With a sigh, I rose and pulled my pants up before going to see what the problem was. The sight of Elise, still blushing furiously, seated on the toilet with legs spread and pussy on full display almost sent me over the edge. Fortunately, I had enough self-control not to shoot in my shorts. Dumping four loads the last two night probably helped.

The problem was how cramped the space was. The sink sat to the right and the shower to the left. There was just enough room to step past the pot if it wasn't occupied. There was no way I could kneel in her front of the girl. I was going to have to squeeze in next to the sink and try to reach.

I had to force myself to not think of scat porn as I reached between her legs. I'm afraid I tickled her tender bits before finally finding the handle.

Now, it was just a matter of getting a good enough grip to extract it.

My face was practically in her crotch as I tried to scoot a little closer. Figuring this was as good as I could do under the circumstances, I gave a gentle tug.

"Oh, God," Elise gasped as a shiver ran through her body.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" I asked.

"No," she gasped, "it just feels weird. I've never had anything back there before."

"Just relax," I said. "It'll be a lot easier if you aren't all tense."

"OK," she exhaled.

Hoping she was distracted enough, I gave another tug and the plug came free. The only trouble was it wasn't at a straight angle and I'm afraid I gave it a little twist when I bent my wrist before it was completely out.

Elise reacted with something between a groan and a whine before taking a deep breath, like she'd survived an ordeal. Then she let loose a fart. Fortunately, I was able to retract my hand first.

"Oh, God," she moaned, burying her face in her hands. "That is sooo embarrassing. You didn't need to see that."

Whether because of the power of suggestion or the amount of beans I'd had for supper, I let one rip as I struggled to my feet. (Probably the beans, doncha think?)

"I guess we're even," I said, reaching for the switch of the exhaust fan with my clean hand. "Look at it this way, we know what we're in for if we ever wind up moving in together."

"Move in together?" she asked in surprise as I began washing my hands.

"Well, you did express interest in having a baby with me at lunch Saturday," I said, squirting soap on my hands and the buttplug. "I'd prefer to be involved in the lives of my children and their mothers. Living together would make that easier."

"I hadn't thought that far ahead," Elise admitted. "It'll be a few years before it becomes an issue, though."

"Understood," I said, turning off the water and shaking my hands. "I'll put this on the desk for you."

"Put it on this," she said, tearing off a strip of toilet paper.

I accepted the tissue and stepped out to allow her to finish without an audience. I examined the egg-shaped plug, mildly surprised she'd taken an object of its size. I could only imagine how and why it made her feel horny.

The toilet flushed and Elise returned after washing her hands. She apparently forgot to tug the micromini down before she exited the bathroom. I caught a glimpse of two plump lips that weren't on her face as she stepped out.

"Feeling better?" I asked.

"Well, I don't feel like I have to go anymore," she blushed as she reached for her bag. "Marie didn't tell me about that part."

Elise rummaged through the bag for a moment before pulling out a tube of ointment.

"She did say I should use this to help with any discomfort," Elise said, unscrewing the cap. "It's a topical anesthetic."

The tall girl squeezed a small dab onto a finger and reached back between her cheeks. It took a little effort to apply the stuff. I wondered how she wiped herself if she had such trouble reaching back there. I mean, her arms were almost as long as her legs.

"Need some help?" I asked.

"Behave," she snapped, wiping her finger on a bit of the toilet paper.

"Hey, I could've offered to kiss it better," I smirked.

"Oh, God," Elise moaned, gripping the edge of the desk and shivering. "Don't make me think about things like that."

"What, afraid ya might like it?" I snorted, stepping up behind her.

"Yes," she blushed, putting the ointment back into the bag and withdrawing a condom. "Marie said to make sure you use one of these this time. I don't want a repeat of what happened the other night."

"You mean when I came in your unprotected pussy?" I growled in her ear.

"Oh, God," she gasped. "That was so hot!"

"Well," I said, grabbing her by the hips and turning toward the lounge, "I can think of something to avoid that happening again."

"What?" she asked, crawling onto the cushion on her hands and knees.

"Gimme the rubber," I growled.

Pants were dropped, foil was torn and latex deployed. I pushed the scrap of fabric that was the micromini up to expose everything. I don't know how long Elise had had the buttplug in, but her anus still showed signs of having been opened. With my feet still on the floor, I placed the tip of my cock against her rosebud and applied pressure.

"OoooOOOH, MY GOD!!!" she squealed, her voice rising in pitch as I began entering her. "You're putting it in my butt!"

"The better to keep you from getting pregnant, my dear," I sneered as I slowly sank deeper into her bowels.

For as big a girl as Elise was, I couldn't believe how tight her asshole was. It reminded me of my first time sodomizing Kacie. And Bethany. And Jan. Crushingly tight.

Good thing she'd lubed up before inserting the plug. And the condom was lubed.

After giving the girl a moment, I slowly withdrew. That just caused Elise to do the groan/whine thing again. I thought she was going to stop me, but she just huffed and puffed when I started back in.

"It feels sooo much bigger there," she panted as I reached full depth.

"But you like it, don't you?" I snarled. "You like letting me take you in every hole."

"Yes," she squeaked, slumping face-down in the cushion with her ass still in the air.

As I continued stroke in and out, I reached around to grab her tits. She was almost too tall for me, but I managed. The knot on her top came undone and I soon had a bare breast in each hand.

I don't know if it felt good for her, but she never objected as I pumped back and forth. After groping boobs and tweaking nipples for a bit, I slid one hand down to her crotch and began rubbing around her clit. That caused her to start shaking and hump back against me.

Her moans, groans and whines continued to alternate in pitch as I moved in and out. The shaking became almost violent as my balls began to tingle.

"Gary," she whined, "you're gonna make me ..."

"Make you what, Elise?" I grunted as I fought to hold off the inevitable.

Her response was to howl like a wounded animal and clamp down hard as her body shook even harder. Moisture sprayed onto the cushion, causing me to lose control. I was able to keep my feet as I shot into the condom, but fell on top of her with the last spasm.

I managed to roll off her, gasping for breath. I was just lucky to wind up on the lounge cushion and not the floor.

"I can't believe we did that," Elise whimpered as I pulled her in for a hug.

"You didn't like it?" I panted, afraid I was about to have another crying female on my hands.

"I don't know," she moaned. "It was certainly different. I never knew it could feel like that, but now I feel like such a slut. Coach Doss says anal sex is degrading to women."

"It's only degrading if you feel degraded," I said, giving the girl a squeeze. "And you're not a slut unless you let any ol' guy do it. As long as I'm the only one, no one else will ever know."

"You mean that?" she asked, giving me a rather teary look.

"Why wouldn't I?" I replied. "I'm willing to take care of you for life. Just make sure I'm the father of your children."

"OK," she squeaked, snuggling closer.

We lay there recovering for some time until Elise's phone beeped.

"I've gotta get home," she moped, pushing herself up. "I set an alarm for 9:30 so I wouldn't be late."

"You'd better get a shower first," I groaned, forcing myself to sit up. "Where are your sweats?"

"In the bag," she said, stepping to the desk with all the goodies still on display. "Do you mind if I leave this outfit here?"

"Probably should," I said. "I wouldn't want you wearing it anywhere else and we don't want your parents to find it accidentally. There might be a hanger in one of the upstairs bedrooms."

"Daddy would probably think it was something Mom was hiding from him," she snorted, grabbing the bag. "And Mom'd probably want to wear it for him. She's been acting a little freaky lately."

I did not need to hear that. I could only hope Mrs. Stirling enjoyed distracting her husband on the occasions her daughter decided to act a little freaky. I wasn't the least bit interested in the woman's methods.

Elise at least had the good sense, if not the modesty, to not remove her clothing until she was in the bathroom with the door closed. I didn't need any more temptation tonight. I'd already failed at resisting it. Some might say miserably so.

When the shower kicked on, I began putting myself in order. The first order of business was to remove the condom sticking to my limp dick. At least I hadn't fallen asleep with it still on like that time with Bethany.

A look around added another item to my shopping list. I needed a trashcan in here. Holding the condom carefully so the contents didn't drip on the carpet, I managed to zip my pants up enough to stay in place and headed to the kitchen.

The place was empty, thankfully, but the pipes in the wall were rattling again. The evidence of my misdeed was wrapped in a paper towel and placed in the can under the sink. Since I was in the vicinity, I checked the fridge for a drink. There was still a jug of tea with at least a quart remaining. I reduced that by two gulps and put the jug back.

At least there were no witnesses around to bust me for drinking straight from the jug. I just didn't feel like searching the cabinets for cups. I guess I could've used one of the coffee mugs on the opposite counter. But it wasn't like I'd drunk milk out of the carton, I told myself.

I got my pants in order and returned to the office, where the sound of the shower spray continued. I debated with myself whether to bathe here or go to the apartment. Either way, I felt I should wait for Elise to finish up first.

The shower cut off, but it was still several minutes before Elise emerged clad in sweats and sneakers. I wondered if there was even a towel in there. That just clinched the decision for me. I'd bathe at the apartment.

"I'd better get home," she mumbled bashfully. "Thanks for letting me come over, even if we didn't do any studying."

"I'd say it was a productive evening," I smiled. "Educational, even. We can read ahead on Chemistry tomorrow. Do you need a ride?"

"No, I drove," she said. "It's too chilly to walk. Besides, it was already dark."

As I walked her to the front door, I didn't see any signs of discomfort. Mabye she'd applied more of the topical ointment.

"Thanks for coming," I said before opening the door.

"Thanks for having me," she purred before sticking her tongue in my mouth.

She managed to escape with no further double entendres or us starting up again. It was too late for that and I didn't want her father to come looking for her.

I went about closing up the house, making sure I had the backpack and letter jacket. A look in the bath showed Elise had left her Paige Turner outfit hanging on the towel bar. Fuck it. I'd try to remember to move it in the morning. It wasn't like there was anyone snooping around the joint.

After making sure the front was locked, I headed out the back and across the alley to the apartment. It appeared Lupita was again staying at the convent. Which was probably a good thing. I dumped my stuff, emptied my pockets and stripped before going to shower. I didn't need more than a quick scrub and rinse, which was also probably good. The day was catching up to me.

I dried off, pulled a fresh pair of boxers out of the dresser and was soon under the covers.

I guess it'd been a good day in one respect, I thought as the night began to close in. At least I'd only fucked one girl tonight.