PART ONE b – the Party

  "Hurry? Meeting the parents used to make sense. Not any more."

  "Why is it a thing, then…"

  "Wiz? I guess you think I'm just a dumb jock. I'm here because I kick a stupid ball into a stupid net. And as long as I pass my courses in basket weaving, I can keep running around being a slut, right?"

  "Lightning? Get it right. You, are majoring in Advanced Basket Weaving. What's your take on the whole… meet the parents routine."

  "Well… human retions. That's my major. Parents used to pick and arrange dating and marriage. Friends and friends of the family, were in on the match, too. Bringing the boy home to meet your parents? Used to mean something. It meant you were serious about this one, that you thought you found a good one. The parents? Were supposed to take a serious look at the boy you brought home, and give you their opinion. If you were making a mistake or not. It used to mean something."

  "And now?"

  "When parents quit arranging dating and marriage. When friends and family don't get a vote anymore, like they used to. Boys don't have to ask daddy's permission to openly date daddy's little girl anymore, and you can marry whoever you want. Your own choice and no one else. You don't have to elope anymore, which is to run away and get legally married, and come home and surprise everyone. Surprise! We eloped! That's all gone now. So… why in the hell we're left with the meeting the parents ritual? I don't know. It serves no purpose anymore."

  "Hmm… you're both probably right."

  "Hurry? Are you going to date or marry, only boys that your mom and dad approve of? Seriously now."

  "No… that's for me to decide."

  "Exactly. If your mom and dad say no, are you going to drop him?"

  "No…"

  "Exactly. So… what's the point. The ritual has been repced by something weird. All the other daddies now sit around, and drink beer, and give each other ideas. What the best way to try and scare the guy off when he visits is. They all drink beer, and brag. How they know how to scare the boyfriend. And? If a boyfriend isn't scared, and god forbid stands up to daddy? Fuck me, that's worse. Hurry… does your dad drink? I don't mean a drunk, I mean… drink at all."

  "He works hard on the family farm, dear. Couple beers when he's done working all day. A few fingers of something strong after dinner, over ice. He drinks like I do, its where I learned it. You have a drink or two, you don't get piss drunk like a moron."

  "And I've seen pictures of you, and your daddy. He's a big guy. He's going to have two drinks instead of one, because he has to sit and have dinner with the guy that squirts come all over his little girl's face every night. Sorry Wiz, just making an example. But Hurry? That's what's running through your daddy's mind. He's gonna start fucking with sweet little Wizzy here. And if Wizzy opens his mouth? He's gonna feel like he has to back up his bullshit he's been putting through him. And one of them, is going to toss the other one, through the window. Cops are getting called, the works. Why go through this. When it serves no purpose."

  "Lightning. Boys meet the family. I know it happens. He has to meet them anyways."

  "In the movies? Yeah, its cute. Its funny. In real life? Not so much, big sis. Unless maybe, and I emphasize the maybe part here, mind you. Maybe… if they both hunt, maybe they were both in the service? They can share something, and he'll put his arm around him and they have a beer together. Like in the movies, but… I'm not taking bets on it. Because Wizzy's an intellectual. Daddy? Runs a farm. I just don't see these two worlds colliding, and two hours of funny dialog ter, everyone sings cum bye ya, and the curtains close."

  "Why aren't you two guys dating. You two sound alike."

  "Because I don't shake my ass, and poach my big sister's boyfriends, like zy whore number three. I'm zy whore number one, if you remember. I tell you how the game is, whether you like it or not. And I might be wrong, but… that's how I call it. My best guess. There's a bigger problem here that you might not be seeing, too."

  "What's that. Sounds wonderful so far…"

  "Wizzy? Real quiet, real polite. Perfect gentleman. Your daddy? Is going to circle him like a shark smelling blood in the water. He's going to talk mad shit, because he can get away with it. And when he goes too far? That's when the problem is coming. After its gone too far to put a stop to it. You hate your daddy, like a lot of girls do? Then by all means, go for it. But… you come from real family, not a mom that's been remarried a couple times like the rest of the world."

  "So no one ever brings a guy home, and it goes okay."

  "Yes, Hurry. It happens. Wizzy? Is an intellectual, among other things. If your father read Shakespeare, if he had a library. Hell, these two would go off and your dad would be all impressed, that you found a smart guy. Wizzy could wow him, with all his book learning. Now… does that sound like your dad?"

  I sighed.

  "No. Its not. Light, the other girls take boys home. How do they do it?"

  "Hurry. Do they take the guy home that bends them over? Or… do they suddenly date some nice guy for a month, and take him home. They cultivate, and take home? A show boyfriend. So daddy will keep making their car payment for them, so daddy will keep sending her money every month. Secure in the fantasy, that his little girl isn't doing exactly what she's doing for four years. Then? Mommy and daddy can all shit themselves in glee. Oh, our little princess? Is dating a pre med student, she's going to marry a doctor! Oh, I'm going to call the neighbors up and brag. Daddy can brag how his little princess is still going to church away at school and she's dating an engineering student. My future son in w? Will build bridges! Why, he's going to be a somebody! My little girl is going to be very important, you know."

  "Why can't Wiz, be my show boyfriend? My real boyfriend too, but… you know what I mean."

  "Wiz. Your family owns a big farm, about twice as big as hers? And you grew up working on it, and you're the kid that's going to inherit it?"

  "Fuck no. My dad works in a steel mill."

  "Hey Hurry. It was worth a shot."

  "Little Lightning… how did my little sister, get so jaded and practical about the world, huh? Why can't things be…"

  Lightning got quiet, and shrugged.

  "Like what, Hurry. Like the movies? Those damn romantic comedies everyone watches, and eats popcorn. Then go out trying to find a guy that's so sweet, yet still so strong and handsome? Boys like to watch action movies, and superhero movies. Girls? By and rge like that stuff. You know the big difference though? Here, I'll show you. Wizzy?"

  "Yeah, Light."

  "Action movies. The tall, handsome, muscur and surprisingly smart hero. Is that shit real?"

  He ughed.

  "No. Fun to watch. Its an adult version of a comic book. Its entertainment."

  "There you go, Hurry. Boys, by and rge? Know its just entertainment. Girls though, and why I don't know… they cling to their princess storybooks, then the adult version is those stupid romantic comedies. Now, the boys? The worst they risk, is going out the next night, and might get a bck eye. But the girls? No, they'll dump a perfectly good guy, and run out trying to find mister perfect. That really gets them. Life isn't a movie, Hurry. Its called real life for a reason."

  "Some part of me, little sister? Knows you're probably right. Doesn't mean I like hearing it."

  "Do you ask me these things, for me to make you up a pretty story? Or, do you ask me, so I tell you the real deal."

  "Real deal. I know enough fairy tales."

  "There you go. Wizzy?"

  "Light."

  "Gonna go out on a limb here. I'm betting, that your parents, are your parents. Got married young, that's your mom, that's your dad, right?"

  "Yeah. Sure."

  "I know Hurry had it like that. Most of us? Didn't grow up like that. We know who our mom is, because someone saw us getting shit out of her twat at some hospital. Dad? Might actually be the guy that fucked her. Or, most cases… dad is just the guy mom's married to at the moment. If mom's even married at all. The other girls? Used to make fun of Hurry here, and called her… little mizz two parents. They thought it was funny. I don't. I wish I had what you two had. Real parents. Maybe that accounts for it. Why you guys, are like two peas in a pod. Hate all the bullshit and the games. I don't know."

  "Lightning?"

  "Wizzy."

  "This is the first time we really… talked. All of a sudden, you don't sound like a dumb jock, you don't sound like a ditsy slut. I mean that in a good way."

  "Thanks, Wiz. You? Are not what we all signed up for, the first time Hurry here wanted us to see the guy she liked. Which was before you two went out, trust me. I've been hearing about you long before I ever met you. I was at that party you were at, a long time ago, Wiz. The one where some asshole football pyer was giving you the shits. He's always like that, he does it to anyone he can. That was normal."

  "I know the party you're talking about."

  "What wasn't normal? Was when you went over and talked to him… then all of a sudden he quit messing with you. I knew something was up, I just didn't know what. But… I reported to my big sister, that I saw the guy she liked, out at some party. I knew the guy Bubbly you sent the asshole over to talk to, and that had something to do with him leaving you alone. I used to fuck one of Bubbly's wrestling team mates. I never did know what kind of a fire I lit under my big sister's ass, but… here you are. And she's got this huge, silly, shit eating grin on her face, talking about taking you home to meet her parents."

  "Little Lightning. I owe you. Big time. I wouldn't… be here, if it wasn't for you. Thanks."

  "No biggie. I owed Hurry. Big time. When I first got here? The older girls on the team, were giving me the shits. Just like your football pyer, was giving you the shits. You could just leave the party if you had to. I can't get off the girls soccer team. Not without going home. Schorship. They weren't just picking on me, there was more to it than that, that I won't go into, but… I told the coach I couldn't do it anymore, that I had to go home. And the coach sent me to Hurry here. Now everything's okay. I'm gd I ended up paying her back, without knowing it. Even if I don't know how I pulled it off."

  "Thanks."

  "Its fine. I am a jock though, Wiz. I'm only here? Because I can put a ball into some net. No other reason, or I couldn't afford to be here. I have to major in something, so… advanced basket weaving it is. I hate my town, I hate my home life, I hate everything about it, and I think I'd die if I ever went back. Why lie. I picked Human Retions, because I have to get a degree in something, or I can't put the ball in the net, and I have to go home. If that gets me a job after I graduate, Human Retions? Great. Then I never have to go back home, ever again."

  "What's so bad about home?"

  Lightning chuckled.

  "I don't talk about it. It's not important. I just hate it there, and I don't wanna go back. Maybe when Hurry has some more… psychology under her belt? I'll get the nerve up, to see if she can help me. Until then? Ball in the net. Soccer's all that I'm good at, that really matters in any way. I didn't have grades like you and Hurry had in high school. I don't think if I had the money to go here, I would have got accepted anyways. Hurry… the coach… wanting to win that championship, just one time? That's the best thing that could happen to me. You see, if you win it? You get this stupid ring, that says you won. I get to take that with me, the rest of my life. First time I ever really wanted something, so bad I can taste it."

  "Lightning? You act like I'd be here, grades or no grades. Not without balls in a net. I wouldn't be getting degrees in Psychology without it. I'm a jock too, I'm no different."

  "Yeah, but you're not majoring in basket weaving."

  "Advanced basket weaving, and don't you forget it. The joke is, Wiz. I got three kids I'm responsible for? This is the smart kid, and one of the two good kids."

  "Hurry. Where's zy whore number three at? I can report number two, is making burgers, and serving drinks to the Army boys. If she ain't home tonight, she wanted to get fucked again. You heard from number three? Or know where she's at?"

  "Who knows. I try not to let my imagination run away thinking too much about it. We're gonna lose her, you know. You, and Right, and her. All stars, all recruited to get a young front line going. You're all better than we ever hoped. Thing is, you two? Improved from just your first year. Little Miss Moody? Not so much. Its starting to look like she's just a milker."

  He asked what a milker was.

  "Lightning? Educate him."

  "Milk maid. A jock gets recruited special, to be a star for a team. You're expected to work hard, and get better, every year. Put out for the team. But… a milker? Doesn't. They just coast in, their hard work's done. They got their schorship. They show up to practice, they show up to games… they get their degree for free, they just party as much as they can for four years. They're milking it."

  "Sounds like the service. Guy just doing the minimum to get by, knows he's going to jet when his tour's up."

  "That's her. What are we going to do about it, Hurry?"

  "What can we do. Between just you and me, the coach is trying like hell to get another star center. You, and Right… and even her, to some extent. Coach says recruiting is going great. He might snag one. I hope he scores one. We need a pn B, for her going sour milk. I don't like the idea of just missing out on another championship, because she won't take medication for whatever the fuck is wrong with her."

  Lightning ughed.

  "What, dear."

  "Oh. Nothing. I'm just the good kid, as you put it… because she's here, to make me look better."

  "Light? You know better. The coach loves you. Remember, you were big news. Any high school girl that's a star in a Quad A school? Coach says they get all excited, they might get a chance to py with Little Lightning, the girl they saw on the videos."

  "What's the roster like over the summer, Hurry?"

  "So far, so good. None of the girls managed to get arrested, pregnant, or fail to maintain a 2.5 in their chosen course of study. Fingers crossed. Summer ain't over yet. You girls get any workouts in the st several days?"

  "Well. I think we got as much of a workout as you got here, judging by the silly smile you're wearing."

  "I still managed to put a few miles in most mornings, riding Wiz for his birthday present or not. You two?"

  Lightning smiled, but she wasn't shy about it.

  "I? Worked on my breath control. And judging by what I heard te at night in the next room over at the Army house, we were both working on general muscle tone. And yes, we went jogging a few times. The boys? Get up at the ass crack of dawn, and go running."

  Mine chuckled.

  "Service thing. Morning PT. Most of us that were in the service do it, so we don't go to absolute shit. Muscle tone? I get the joke. Making out, is working out. Breath control?"

  Me and Lightning ughed. I reached around and stuck my finger in his mouth, and made him make the gagging sound. Lightning ughed her ass off, as did I at my little joke to show him.

  "Hey!"

  "Well, you get it now?"

  "Yeah, thanks for the visual aid, honey."

  Lightning smiled and shrugged. Shy wasn't one of her shortcomings.

  "Hey. What can I say. Boys like it, and I like boys."

  "Yeah. For all the wrong reasons, too."

  I stuck my tongue out at her, so she knew I was kidding. She giggled and stood up, putting her hands on her hips in mock anger.

  "Oh. Listen to you, Hurry. And, what was with that little video you sent me. Was that you? Dressed like a bigger slut than I ever was, bending over at some buffet somewhere? You don't get to say shit about how I dress, not any more. Farm slut…"

  "Hmm. How could I be a bigger slut than you, when it was your goddamn clothes I was wearing, huh?"

  "Can't believe you went there, but fine. You're taller than me, by about an inch. And you have bigger legs. All muscle or not? That mini covers less of you, than it ever did on me. That makes you? The bigger slut."

  "I only did it once. You? Go out like that all the time."

  While we giggled and had our fun mock argument, my boyfriend sitting in front of me in the tub got jostled every time I moved around to shake my finger at her, and try to win another argument point. He finally joined in the fun.

  "Now, now. Girls? You can both be gigantic sluts, its fine."

  Lightning thought that was the funniest thing and doubled over in ughter, and I gave him a mock beating with the magic washrag. Lightning waited until the "beating" was over, and leaned her hands on the far end of the tub, facing both of us. She winked at me, to let me know she was kidding.

  "No, Wizzy. I'm a way bigger slut than Hurry. I go through a new boy every month. She only manages one a year. Want me to prove it, hmm?"

  He didn't say anything, and I could feel his body freeze the way he sat in front of me, with me wrapped around him the way I was. I giggled and put the magic washrag across his mouth, and hauled back on both ends of the washrag. Slut reins, though it passed in polite company for a joke. I giggled and bit his neck softly, while he pretended to actually struggle. Lightning smiled and winked at me again.

  "Wizzy… did you enjoy the blowjobs Hurry gave you, hmm? I bet you did, didn't you, you naughty little boy. I bet you loved every minute of it, and pulled the hair right out of her head, huh? Of course you did. Because, all… boys… love it. Simple fact. Now. You have to ask yourself, Wizzy. Where, oh where, did my big sister ever learn such a thing. Hmm. The university insists all the athletes eat healthy food, and we get all the vegetables we can stand. Carrots came in that week, when we picked up our order, down at the supermarket. I taught her at the kitchen table, right downstairs, on carrots. Until she could do a half ass job at it. For your big date she took you on, and she disappeared for a couple days and nights."

  He had quit struggling, and had his hands back on me, under the whirling water. Rubbing my hips and thighs.

  "So, Wizzy. You not only owe me big, like you said… for hooking you up with your girlfriend you seem to be so in love with. You? Also owe me, even bigger, for making sure she had some idea how to make you feel good. Good enough, I might add, that you were moved in about a week after your big date ended. So, you can show a little respect, for sluts. Without this big one in the townhouse? You, wouldn't be having as much fun as you are."

  I had him fast with the washrag reins, giggling my ass off while she teased him for fun. She winked again, and pyed with the water in front of him, smiling.

  "You don't need to worry, Wizzy. I didn't teach her on a real, live, dick. Your girlfriend? Is way too much of a nun for that sort of shit. Now, Right on the other hand? She was compining she didn't know how to do a decent job, so… I showed her. The guy I was fucking at the time she asked for my help? I took her over to his room one weekend, and I taught her. On the job, is the best way to learn… simply anything. That guy? About lost his little mind. That was about nine months ago, and st I heard he's still bragging about his big weekend he had."

  I couldn't stop giggling, and yanked back on his washrag reins in mock anger. She's too good at this, and winked again at me, to make sure she wasn't getting into trouble. I winked back, to let her know it was all in good fun, and he couldn't see me wink anyways.

  "And st thing, Wizzy? I fuck nice boys, too. When they have a decent body, and work on it. And you have one. You have about the same body, as this one light heavyweight golden gloves boxer, I used to fuck for fun. You know, one of my fuck buddies, they call it. You look just like him, from the neck down. Always in the gym, always running, always training. Yeah, girls like that."

  I yanked him around some more, for show, ughing. She spshed water up at him, giggling.

  "And for the record? I lied. The only reason I didn't fuck you, when you kept asking me out back then? Was because Hurry already had a thing for you. And? I already expined, I more or less owe her my life. I can get all the dick I need, and then some, if I want it. But my big sister? She gets all hung up, on just one… guy… at a time. Which was you. So, you can thank me for not fucking you, actually. I'd have had fun, for a couple of weeks… then traded you to one of the other girls. Put you on the circuit. After all, Wizzy… what's the best way to get back at the girl that dumps you, huh? Fuck one of her friends, right?"

  I giggled and dunked his head by his washrag reins and brought him back up, ughing.

  "You think that shit's all an accident, don't you. Its not. When one girl is getting ready to finish having fun with a guy? She lines her friend up, who starts hitting on the guy, right before she dumps him. Its called, throwing your girlfriend a dick. The girl you fuck? Knows before you do, who you're going to fuck next. So… don't be so impressed, with the guys that seem like they have some kind of magic going on. They don't. They only got lucky… once. The rest? All pnned."

  I stopped biting his neck long enough to whisper loud in his ear.

  "You listening to this? She's a pro, expining how its all just one big game."

  He nodded yes, then I giggled and made him "struggle" a little more for fun. She smiled, and spshed him some more. He jumped every time her hand went in the water.

  "Don't worry. I won't y a pinkie finger on you. Hurry? Would kill me. I'm actually jealous, you know. You seem to actually love her. I don't know how she does it. And… thanks, by the way. I really liked Army boy. I honestly? Wanted to try to have a decent boyfriend for once. Like Hurry here is always bragging about. With you. The problem was me. Apparently, if a girl takes more than one guy every year? We're no good to you nice guys. Its a pity. I actually intended, to not go out on him, I really liked him. I tried it her way. But thanks, for hooking me up. I got to try pying nice girl for a change, and it was fun while it sted. I'm gonna take a couple weeks off, then get back out there and try again."

  She touched his nose, and he jumped about six inches up from the bottom of the tub.

  "Yeah, Wizzy. Those guys that brag? Its mostly all pnned. You know, the girl leaves the guy at her apartment, with her room mate. Guys? I'm going to the store. Now I'm trusting you, don't you do anything. I'll be back in about two hours. Then she leaves, and the room mate just about rapes the guy and won't take no for an answer. It was the pn all along. Don't think for a second that guy's got any special skills. He just thinks he does. The only special skills required? Just don't stalk or fight when the fun ends and you get dumped. That's it. And the so called nice guys, that don't take advantage of the situation? They're getting dumped just the same, whether they enjoy the room mate or not."

  She touched his nose again, and he jumped again.

  "Girls only get mad, when the room mate does it and there was no pn. Little Miss Moody? Got rag dolled by your girlfriend, because she knew better, and tried it anyways. I don't know what she was thinking. Now… did I do enough for you, that you didn't even know about, that I can be a slut and maybe you won't hate me for it?"

  I still had his reins, and moved his head up and down for him, in case he wasn't going to do it on his own.

  "Jesus, Hurry. He's so jumpy. You haven't been telling him the champagne stories, have you? You'll scare all my guys off with that one. Have a heart, would you… and… oh my god!"

  I was puzzled.

  "What?"

  "Hurry, and you called me the slut? Christ almighty…"

  She walked around him, looking him over. I still had him tight by the washrag, not even thinking. She looked at his shoulders, neck and upper back. Inadvertently, I was holding him still for her to inspect him like a horse.

  "What my ass, sis. Bite marks, scratches all over him. Jesus, are you fucking him or trying to kill him…"

  I dropped the reins.

  "A little of both. Birthday fun. What the hell."

  "I'm going to have to up my game, you keep this shit up. So… what are you guys pnning on doing tonight. Its early."

  "We're doing it, Light. Don't you see us, in the tub?"

  "You've been scratching and biting him for days, it looks like. Let the poor guy have a night out… oh. Do you mind?"

  She was pointing at the little red bong and baggie on the chair.

  "No. Go ahead. Courtesy of Miss Moody."

  "Don't mind if I do…"

  She packed up a little bowl, and worked her finger on the carburetor hole, and held it in. Then blew it out.

  "God, I wish you could straighten her ass out. She goes to second string, I'm not going to miss her out of the Vilge housing, but… I will miss her goddamn stash. Christ, she scores a pillowcase at a time, so she doesn't miss it when we smoke out on her shit."

  "If I could magically straighten her out? I think I wouldn't need the psych degrees."

  "Can I roll a joint for us, you mind…"

  "You act like I paid for it. My hands are wet. Go for it."

  She left to go get papers. We heard her yelling from her room.

  "What the hell happened to my room?!?!"

  She came back in, and bent over the chair, to roll up a joint carefully. She was wearing a pair of her favorite type of jeans, with one of her summer tops. Ostensibly a cut up T shirt. Baring her tummy as far up as she could get away with, sleeveless. She practically never wore a bra. Original T shirt it was made out of? So big that now cut up it did everything except scream, please notice my tits. As soon as you're done looking at my tight tummy.

  As soon as her attention was all devoted to carefully tending what she was up to, I gently took a finger on his chin and turned his head right towards the show. She was standing right up against the tub, her ft stomach was right in his face. Little tiny bellybutton stretched tight. When she moved, you could watch her abs dance. If a guy liked a tall, fit girl that was still super feminine to boot? This was a great show. My finger pushing his chin over told him it was fine to ogle it. When she bent over the chair, her fairly small and perky breasts were put on full dispy when the oversize cut up T shirt went down.

  I'm tan, hell I'm Italian so go figure I get dark in the summers. I have the kind of skin a lot of Italian women have. Fairly smooth, but you can see our pores. She has the fine, gss smooth skin some women have. Barely a freckle to mar it. I get the extra dark tan an Italian girl gets. She goes pale in winter, but as soon as she gets sun in the spring? She quickly gets a rich tan. Not as dark as mine, naturally, but way more than you'd think such a pale winter beauty could get when the sun comes back out to py more than a few hours a day.

  He saw what I could see. Hell, we're girls and we live together, like I haven't seen her tits before. Perky, perfect little things. Small nipples like a guy would have, except on boobs that are small enough and she's fit enough, that they defy gravity. Like pears sliced in half, and glued on. Taut skin because we're all fit at this level of py. He could see she obviously ys out somewhere topless, the boobs are perfectly as tan as the rest of her. He's not aware that the field I used him for a horse in that rainy night? Is where the girls in the vilge hike to, to y out topless. In the tall grass, with no music or other noise? They have ample warning if anyone's coming, but still fully exposed to summer sun.

  I guess when we get started with the fun I have pnned, if I pull it off? I'll go up with her one day, and make him give us an oil rubdown. To get him all hot and bothered.

  Even her jeans are sexy jeans. I wear regur jeans. Work jeans, I always buy the heavier ounce jean material. So it takes a while to break them in, but they st forever. Heavy enough when the little rips come, they don't come apart. Hers? Pretty much the complete opposite. Low, real low, on her hips. Low enough you can see the perfect "V" starting under her ft abs. The first hint of ass crack beginning when she bends over, in the rear. Soft and thin jeans material, that form fits to her long, lithe acrobatic legs. When she so much as shifts her weight around? You can watch her leg muscles move smoothly with her. Shoece for a zipper, and made so you leave the shoece "undone", as a visual tease. There's a hidden zipper underneath the faux shoece fly.

  My jeans are made to work in, if you want to. Hers? Made strictly to be cute and sexy. Any real work, and they'd fall to strings in no time. One knee's starting to give up the ghost on these, so you can see her leg muscles attach to her knee. More fit muscle py when she moves around, too. She has the compact upper body of a dancer as well. Rounded shoulders, and back muscles that show. Nothing moving on her arms but sinew and muscle over bones.

  She's probably what people think of, when they conjure up an image of a tall, well toned, athletic girl. Her face is very feminine and pretty, without looking too girly girly, like a cheerleader would. Naturally blonde hair, the kind some girls must go through color after color to get to, she just has it naturally. Not a dirty blonde per se, just a hint of the dirty. Just not that perfect ptinum blonde. Her face would be about fwless, except for the one tiny scar on one cheek, close to her nose. That was courtesy of being airborne, kicking in to win the huge game. When she got knocked on the "two step" rule while in acrobatic flight, hard. She careened ass over tin cups into benches and equipment, so bad she never would remember anything from long minutes before her triumphant st minute score, until waking up on a stretcher.

  With the proper protection and coverage, she's a fast and lethal sharpshooter and ball handler and steal-er. Without that protection? She's vulnerable. Big fullbacks, like me? Is who she's smoking circles around, when she's in the "hot zone" the st so many yards from the other team's net. Big girls like me, that know how to hit her hard and fast and barely legal to squeak under what's covered by calling soccer a "limited contact" sport that allows for "incidental contact". That's on paper. In real life? Its not so much anything but taught and learned and practiced and drilled and completely pnned.

  If you start roughing up my star forwards and center? I'm allowed to switch positions, and start pying up. I'm just fast enough, and have just enough skill that my size and speed and strength allow me to put a stop to it. We drill endlessly on blind screens, and I know how to y a legal hit on the big girls that don't have the speed and skill to keep up with me. If I'm moved forward, I take over being temporary center, and Little Miss Moody has to fall back. I have a thing for stealing the ball on a slide, and getting it back to Lightning and Right, who can run and gun some more, while the heat's on.

  When the opposing coach learns his lesson, and takes the big goon fullbacks out? I can fall back into position, and number three comes back up to press her advantage. Speed and ball handling, and steals I could never dream of pulling off. Her job is to maneuver, and feed these two. And keep feeding them, its where the scores come from. She gets assists out the ass, every time she feeds Lightning and Right, and they score. She looks like a goddess on paper, with all those assists. Coaches like assist pyers, as much as they like scorers. They hate ball hogs. Number three used to basically be "Lightning" or "Right" at her quad A high school. Now? Her job is to feed these two, and it hurts her pride. She'll do it? But… she's losing interest in working out in the off season, and the coach has to keep on her to feed, feed, feed.

  She's putting herself above the team, and its going to cost us. If we can find another "Little Lightning", that can cover center as good as Miss Moody? She won't lose her schorship, but she can go to second string, and party and milk her schorship for all its worth. What the hell she's going to do with her "Practical Art" degree, I can't fathom.

  Who in the hell will pay her a living wage high enough to live in some big city where art is even a paying career, when she makes kindergarten level finger paints with her toes? I have no idea. Maybe its a thing somewhere, and maybe its just all she can pass courses in, to fulfill her schorship requirements. I suppose she'll just cim to be an "artist" in the trendy part of a big city, where real artists live and work and earn a good living? And deal drugs to them. My best guess. Hey, its a living.

  I'm looking now, like he's looking. I know he's looking at his real life pole vaulter girl and being polite to me and her both, by not staring and slobbering. I know, and now he knows… that he stands an excellent chance of having some serious fun with this girl, that strongly resembles one of his calendar girls he once pulled his prick raw to. I'm not even jealous, simply because of knowing enough about him, his fantasies, and other things.

  I look exactly like a couple of his rodeo girls, that he had very naughty fantasies about. I'm no championship barrel racer, at the national level like those calendar girls? But, I look just like them… to him. I can get on a horse, and let him snap pictures surprisingly simir to the action shots he once touched himself to on weeknights, falling asleep for four years. He's already pointed out the girl driving stock with a bullwhip in the one action photo in her montage, and smiled at me. I'm her, for him. I do things to him with my bullwhip, and not just in his fantasy. I pyed it out for him, and he can't get enough of me.

  He once joked about calf roping, and I surprised him without warning him. I grabbed him by the back of his knee and around his neck suddenly, got him up on my knee under him, and dropped him in the gathered up heap on the bed… then wound the extra rough fun rope around his wrists and one ankle and stood up with my hands in the air, for my "time". Smiling down at him, drooling. I can't rope a calf in any time close to those championship girls? But I've done it in real life. Close enough that when I do it to him, he's all goo goo eyes for me.

  The extra naughty and dirty things, that his fantasy calendar girls would force him to "do", taken down to their barn, when they got tipsy and mean about it? I've taken him in the basement, and done to him. I've done it to him in the living room, and I've done it to him in the bedroom and in the shower. I've gotten a "buzz", and pretended to be in a bad mood before. Decided I was going to teach him to lick me better. Punished him, while I taught him how to do it "better". Once I make a trip home and can locate a few key things? I'm going to surprise him with my real life costume.

  I actually own goat skin chaps and spurs that fit on my heels of my cowgirl boots. I can clink them around in the basement while I menace him, teaching him a lesson worthy of a pissed off rodeo girl. The fact that the Texas rodeo girls were all piss-y to service guys and Yankees with northern accents? Works in my favor. The harder I whip him, the more I y my hand across his face or yell at him? The more turned on he's going to get. I can't wait to stalk around him one night, and let him him hear my metal spurs clink distinctly on the cement sub basement floor. Hear, not see them. Because he'll be strung up naked and blindfolded, helpless for my big whip I can crack at will.

  He knows that in a number of weeks, no matter how "good" he is? He's going to get an unannounced visit from Mistress Vaquera. Tell him its time. I'm going to be in what he'll take for my rodeo getup. He knows Vaquera is going to get called in, to perform special services for his mommy. Bullwhip a pair of jeans right off his ass, while he screams and cries to her ughing at him to be quiet. That he was so jealous of some other guy getting one crack on the jeans, how lucky is he to get so many at one time.

  Then when Vaquera finally gets the rip, and sees the whip marks on his torn open jeans finally? She's going to "clink, clink" right up to him, tied over the extra desk helpless. Shred those jeans open from that rip, exposing his naked, marked up ass… and plow into him with her toy like never before. While he's still squirming and screeching and bawling from his whipping. She's going to leave him shaking and squealing, like a real life rape victim… while she coolly expins that this is going to happen to him twice in a row the next time, when he moves into the townhouse with his mommy. To set the tone for his good behavior living there with her "friend".

  Casually tell him, how she's going to keep stopping over for unannounced visits, and how she better get a stelr report on his behavior, or else. And not that it will save him, because even if he is good? She's still going to miss hearing him scream, and do it to him anyways. Because he's one of her trained sluts, and she can do what she wants with him. Then? She'll take him out somewhere to eat, dressed provocatively. Smile at him squirming in his seat across the table from her, because she knows that she made that squirming happen.

  He doesn't know I've secretly told Lightning, that she's allowed to "act up" around him to have fun with him. She does it all the time anyways, to impress boys when she's out. The only reason she doesn't do it around the townhouse already? Is because I asked her not to. Because she loves me like a weird combination of big sister and friendly attack dog that everyone else is scared of. She's having huge fun, being given the go ahead to flirt shamelessly in front of him, its her thing and she's well practiced at it. He has no idea this is what she does in bars, to attract guys to her.

  All she cks in the looks department, is being a hair too tall if that offends a guy's delicate sensibilities on that count. If you're not intimidated by her height and otherwise approve of a fit, well toned body? She's perfect. I know I'm an 8 or 9 in his mind's eye, so I'm not jealous. I let her know, that her height actually makes her more attractive to him, so… she's having fun making him squirm in front of his girlfriend. In the tub right this moment, which is hysterical.

  She's all done with the joint, and is carefully ying it to dry, from her wet tongue's work on it. Maybe a hair too much, she's putting on an approved show, and having fun. She leans down over the tub again, once again putting her well formed small boobs on dispy like a showcase, right in his face where he can't help but notice.