The Competitive Edge: Playing The Game IIIChapter 45: Hidden From The World free porn video

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It was a very busy summer. Sometimes it was very satisfying, and in other ways, it was incredibly frustrating.

Lori McMasters had had a little girl. They scheduled the christening for a Sunday late in May. Both Kayla and I had received invitations to attend, and Lori called me to make sure I was coming.

"Of course I'll be there," I said.

"Good," she said. "It's important to David and me that you are there."

"Why?" I asked, truly puzzled about why my attendance was important. After all, Sundays were for instructor training sessions, and so, on that weekend, I had to send Theo, Eric, and Trent off to Kankakee on their own.

"Because you are our friend," she replied simply. I couldn't argue with that logic.

Kay and I went to the church and got there early enough to be able to sit up close. Kayla was wearing a breezy summer dress, and I had on my one and only suit. I was wearing a polo shirt, though, with no tie. It was warm, and I opted for comfort over formality. Kayla smiled at my attire when I picked her up, but didn't tell me I should stop at home and change, so I assumed it was okay.

It wasn't until after the service, at a banquet hall David and Lori had reserved for their friends, that I found out more about why Lori was so insistent concerning my attendance. Kayla found it all quite hilarious, but wouldn't fill me in on her joke. I finally asked David about it, and he looked at me with a funny expression.

"What's our little girl's name, Mr. P.?" he asked.

"Shawna Joyce McMasters," I replied, having memorized her middle name, just in case somebody asked me.

"Right you are," said David. "Joyce for my mother. Can't you guess why Shawna?"

"Let's see ... Lori's mother..."

"Her name is Evelyn," said David. He was smiling now.

"I knew that," I said, almost defensively. I had known it, even if I had forgotten it.

He prompted me by suggesting, "Shawna? Could it be the feminine version of..."

I looked at him in shock. "What? No way," I gasped.

He smiled even bigger. "Way," he confirmed. "Whatever Mrs. M. wants, Mrs. M. gets as far as I'm concerned, and she was pretty darned firm about this." He clapped me on the back, nearly sending me into the salad buffet, and had a good laugh.

I stalked back over to the table where Kayla was sitting, with Molly and Josh.

"You knew about this?" I asked accusingly.

Kayla smiled sweetly, completely disarming me. "I figured it out, silly. You could have too, you know."

"I just never dreamed..."

"That she loved you that much? She does, Sean."

I glanced at Molly for a little help here, but she was smiling and nodding her head. For his part, Josh was wisely staying out of the way.

"But..." I couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound hollow. Lori loved me? Yeah, I guess I knew she did. And I loved her, too. As a friend and a supporter, she was unbeatable. I hoped she thought of me the same way I thought of her.

I looked over at Lori, standing now with her arm around David's waist. David was tenderly holding Shawna in his arms, completely wrapped up in her presence. Lori glanced up at him, and I could see her love for him suffused on her face. I was beginning to understand.

I looked over the room and spotted Davey and Kip. They were growing up, and though they would always be close, they were moving more within their own individual circles. In fact, this summer, for the first time, they would be in different camps. Both of them were highly skilled players for their age groups, but Davey, a year older than Kip, a year bigger and more mature, belonged in the middle school group. Kip could compete with them, but he was smaller, and would be better off acting as one of the better grade-school competitive players.

I had worked out my summer schedule so that I was on the road every other week. I promised Davey and Kip I would work with them every other Saturday. I didn't want them getting burned out on soccer, but I also wanted to teach them while they still wanted to learn. It was good for them and it was good for me. I could forget about running camps and clinics and rediscover my own love for the game.

Kayla scooted her chair closer to me and threaded her arm through mine. She clasped my hand in hers, our arms intertwined. I turned to her and kissed her on her temple. At that moment, in that place, I felt happy and content, better than I had felt in a long, long time.

The only spare time I had was during the few weeks before the camps and clinics started up. I was on the road most weekends, but the weekdays were, for the most part, mine. Danielle and Keisha had scoured the want ads for office space to let, and I followed up on the ones they circled in the newspaper. I marked down the locations I thought might work, and then, with Mr. Lehigh's help, I began the processes of elimination and negotiation. He went with me to look at the ones I liked, and he acted as my agent talking to landlords. Leasing agents would most certainly take him a lot more seriously than they would a twenty-year-old college kid, and I was grateful for the assistance.

After looking at space in industrial areas, commercial spots, and cheap, rundown rooms in the back of retail stores, we settled on a roomy, open loft on the second floor of one of the older buildings in the small downtown area of our community. The building was nearly one hundred years old, but had been lovingly maintained by its fourth- generation owners, the Sackett family. It was a block down from Lehigh Drugs, and Mr. Lehigh and John Sackett had been friends since high school.

The three of us were standing in the stuffy, dusty loft, looking around one more time. It was my third visit, and Mr. Lehigh's second. The first two times, a real-estate broker had been involved, but this time it was just the three of us.

"So, what do you think, Irwin?" asked Mr. Sackett. He had on a pair of bib overalls. There was a claw hammer in a loop at his waist, and a very old, wooden-handled screwdriver stuck out of a pocket.

Mr. Lehigh looked at me inquiringly.

"It looks pretty big," I said.

"It is pretty big," said Mr. Lehigh. "I think it's a little too big for you for right now, but it'll be a space your business can grow into comfortably."

I smiled tightly. I was envisioning dollar bills flying out the window every month, whether I used the space or not. "You've got a lot more confidence in this business than I have," I said.

Mr. Lehigh looked at me seriously. He took a step back, toward Mr. Sackett, and put his hands on his hips. "What does your garage at home look like, Sean?"

"Oh, man, it's stuffed," I said. "My dad's always on me to..." I stopped, thinking about our garage and my dad's haranguing.

Mr. Lehigh smiled then. "To what?" he asked gently.

Chagrined, I replied, "To get my soccer stuff out of there so he can actually park a car in the garage again."

"So, along with desk space, you need storage for your equipment," said Mr. Lehigh.

Mr. Sackett strode over to an outside wall. "Hell, I could throw up some drywall about here," and he waved his arms expansively through the air to indicate the placement of a wall. He stopped, and then walked quickly to the front of the loft. "Better yet, put your offices up here. Front window provides some light, and in the summer you can put in one of them window air conditioner units to make it comfortable." He paced off four steps and stopped. He looked up at the open ceiling, and then at each of the side walls. "Yup, this'd work. You got your heating ducts there," he said, pointing toward the vents near the floor. "You got your 'lectricity, and I can run you some more circuits if you need 'em. Telephone comes in the back, easy to pull a couple of circuits up here. Phone, fax, whatever you need."

Mr. Lehigh glanced at me inquisitively, silently asking if I approved.

I shrugged in acquiescence.

"Okay, John. How much?" Mr. Lehigh and I stepped over to where Mr. Sackett was standing, still looking up. He was probably trying to picture how he would do the construction, even before we had agreed on the space.

"Oh, I don't know, Irwin. Take me maybe three, four weeks to get it ready. Shelving in the back, worktable, lighting ... How many desks?"

Mr. Lehigh looked at me. "Three to start. No, make it four," I said.

"Hmmm ... need to make it bigger up front, then," said Mr. Sackett, nearly lost again in the wonderful puzzle we were presenting to him.

"Okay, John, enough," said Mr. Lehigh with a chuckle. "How much do you want for rent?"

Mr. Sackett looked back at us. "And it's for this young man?" he asked again, for about the hundredth time.

Mr. Lehigh laughed. "Yep," he said. "This young man is going to own most of this town before long, if he keeps on the way he's been going."

Mr. Sackett favored me with a shrewd look. "Sean - may I call you Sean? - Sean, you have yourself a hell of a backer here."

"I know I do, sir. He's been helping me since the beginning."

Mr. Sackett snorted. "I ain't no sir, Sean. Hell, if I can call you by your first name, you ought to be able to return the favor. My name's John." He stuck out his hand, as if we were meeting for the first time. I shook it, and John smiled tightly and nodded once.

"John? The price?" Mr. Lehigh broke in.

John Sackett laughed. "Ah, hell, I don't care," he said finally. "Pay for the material on the construction, I'll build it myself. You give me five years on the lease, option to renew, and I'll be glad to have somebody in here, helping me to look after the place. Tell you what. You and Irwin come up with what you think is a fair rent. S'long as it pays my taxes and utilities, I'm happy." He looked at me closely. "But you'll be responsible for repairs after we get this thing built out. Fair enough?"

Mr. Lehigh smiled. He looked at me, and nodded his head.

I shrugged. It's only money. Money I didn't have enough of yet, though the summer was shaping up to be able to take care of it. "Okay, Mr. Sackett..." He scowled at me in mock anger. "Sorry, I mean John. I'll take it. It scares the shit out of me, though."

It just slipped out, but both Mr. Lehigh and John Sackett laughed out loud.

"And well it should," said Mr. Lehigh. "But you'll be fine. I know you will."

John Sackett was good on his word. He began setting the studs for the walls the next day, and within a week, it was all taking shape. Danielle arranged for the utilities, and Keisha shopped for used office furniture. Once the shelving was up and the back room swept and mopped, I began to haul my equipment out of my dad's garage. I had plenty of room, and I spent a couple of days getting organized. South Bend, Kankakee, and the other camp locations had their own areas of the storeroom, and I made sure everybody had what they needed. I resupplied each first-aid kit and bought several more from Lehigh Drugs for my new areas.

I asked John if he could wall off a conference room for us, too.

"Sure," he said. "Gonna cut into your storage space, though."

"We've still got a lot of space for storage. Besides, the back wall of the conference room can be lined with shelves, too."

"Good thought," he said. He had his hand on his chin as he calculated square footage for a modest conference room. Then, without another word, he was off to mark up the floor.

Keisha and Danielle bought a big three-month calendar and tacked it up on the wall in the office. They color-coded the types of camps and the locations, and marked it all up for all of us to see. Once they were satisfied with the result, they made a duplicate for the conference room. My staff needed to know what was going on, as well as the office people.

I drove down to Jesse's with his supplies of balls, cones, practice jerseys, and the rest of the stuff he would need. I met with his staff to discuss the summer, then we went out to one of the fields and scrimmaged, four on four, Jesse and me and the instructors. Playing with his people for an afternoon really gave me a good feel for the strengths each of them brought to the program. Afterwards, over pizza and sodas, Jesse and I discussed each of them in turn, working out how he could best utilize their talents.

During that dinner, Jesse gave me some news.

"Dude, I'm going to have to revise our schedule a little," he said hesitantly.

"Oh? How come?" I reached for another slice of sausage pizza.

He grinned at me. "I got a job," he said.

"Really? Cool. In soccer, I hope."

"Yup. In fact, we'll probably run into each other in the fall. I'm taking the Maryland assistant's position."

I stared at him. "You're going to be one of Eric's coaches?" I asked.

He smiled and nodded.

"Oh, man, this I've got to see," I said. I reached across the table and we grasped hands. "Congratulations, man. That's good news. When do you have to be there?"

"I have to be there on Monday, the twelfth, so I'd like to make the last day of camp Wednesday, August 7."

"Ah, hell, that's not cutting camp short by much. I don't think it'll be a problem."

"Well ... there's more," he said.

"Fire away," I said.

"This will be my last year running this camp," he said. "This is a full-time position, and I'll be spending my summers scouting and working on Maryland's clinics."

"Oh, yeah," I said. "You're out in the real world now, aren't you? No more farting around in the summers."

He laughed. "If you can call getting paid to play and teach soccer real world, I guess I am," he said. He looked at me seriously for a moment. "But then, you are too, aren't you, Boss?"

His analysis took me by surprise. I had to think about it for a minute. "Yeah," I slowly admitted, "I guess I am, too." I shrugged and reached for another slice. "And it's still pretty damn fun, isn't it?"

"You got that right," he agreed.

"Well, I don't want to give up this location," I said. "I guess our main task this summer is finding somebody we both feel can take over. Right?"

He nodded. "We'll find somebody," he said.

By July, we did find somebody. In fact, it was a person I knew already. Jesse's sister, Anna, had been a pretty decent soccer player in high school. She was playing club soccer at college, which, at the big schools, could get pretty competitive. On top of that, her major was Elementary Education. She loved kids, and she loved working with people who were working with kids. Jesse persuaded her to come to work for us, and she quickly developed into the kind of manager and leader we needed. She worked with the kids on relationships and skills off the field, and let the instructors teach the skills of the game on the field.

I also followed through with Danielle's suggestion and placed an ad for part-time office help. I let Danielle and Keisha sift through the applicants first, and they then presented the resumes and applications to me. The girls were amused by the reactions they got when the people applying for the job came in and saw a couple of college girls doing the initial interviewing. They also saw no need to let any of the applicants who made it past their screening process know the final decision on their employment would be made by a twenty- year-old kid. When I did second interviews, it was invariably amusing to watch their faces when the applicants first came in and saw me at my desk.

The most bizarre interview was a woman who came in and sat down in front of me without saying a word. She had carried in a bunch of shopping bags, which she dropped to the floor beside her. I glanced from my work and saw her give out a big, theatrical sigh as she looked around the office, an expression of distaste on her thin, pinched face. Her evaluation of the decor included a cursory glance at me. She apparently decided I could easily be ignored, because she never acknowledged my presence. Instead, she turned in her chair and looked at the plain walls, decorated thus far with only my three- month planner. I decided to outwait her, to see what she would do. I kept on working on my student evaluations, concentrating on the kids instead of her. She sat there for a few minutes, putting up with the silence, until she just couldn't stand it anymore. She rapped her knuckles against the desktop to get my attention.

"Excuse me?" she asked petulantly. "I've got an appointment with Mr. Porter for two-thirty. Can you please run off and find him for me?"

I looked up. "Sure," I said. "Who should I say is waiting?"

She gave me a put-upon look. "It should be on his calendar." She sighed. "I guess he's too important to be on time, ain't he?" She shook her head at Mr. Porter's follies, trying to draw me into familiarity at our mutual misfortune having to associate ourselves with such an arrogant businessman.

"I don't think it's that way. Your name again?" I prompted.

"Just tell him Alice Wentworth is waiting, sonny," she said.

"Alice Wentworth. I'll tell him." I stood up and left the office. Keisha and Danielle glanced up. They were huddled together, giggling.

"You set me up, didn't you?" I whispered.

"We just thought you'd enjoy speaking with Mrs. Wentworth," said Danielle, barely able to contain herself.

"Thanks a lot," I muttered. I shook my head at them, but I couldn't suppress my grin. I opened my office door and strode in. Mrs. Wentworth glanced up.

"Is he coming anytime soon?" she asked. She made it sound like she didn't expect a good answer.

"He's here now," I replied as I returned to my desk.

She glanced toward the closed door.

"Not there," I said. "Here."

She looked at me in shock. "You?" she asked. I nodded. Without a word, she gathered up her packages. She stood up. With just one more glance at me, as if to reconfirm what her eyes had seen, she turned and walked out the door. Interview over.

Danielle and Keisha came in as Mrs. Wentworth clomped down the stairs, and the three of us broke out in laughter. Keisha shook her head.

"I wish I could have seen her face," she said, trying to catch her breath. "I bet it was priceless."

"Let's just say I wish I'd had a camera," I said, and that sent us off all over again.

In the end, I hired somebody I knew slightly, somebody who also was familiar with our clinics. Elena Brewer was around thirty, married, with two kids in elementary school. Her oldest, Brittany, was in our rec program, and her boy, Danny, played T-Ball. Elena was chubby and friendly, a good-hearted person who also happened to be very efficient. She didn't mind at all taking direction from Danielle, Keisha, or me, and she picked up on our system quickly. In practically no time, she made herself nearly indispensable. I knew early on she would be just the person I would need to take over our off-season duties. Danielle, too, was comfortable about the decision, which contributed to my good feeling about hiring her. After all, I had never interviewed anybody before.

True to his word, Mr. Lehigh gave Kayla Saturday afternoons and Sundays off all summer long. Every other Sunday, I would have to leave, but I made sure I was home by Friday so we could have as much weekend as possible together.

Those travel Sundays were hard. Some of our locations were far enough away that Theo and I had to leave right after Sunday dinner. We would spend the night in a cheap motel near our practice fields so we could be there bright and early Monday morning with the instructors. Theo spent most of his time with the instructors or on the sideline, and I usually observed the players from the field. Most of the time, I acted as referee during the full scrimmages. Sometimes, when the instructors had the groups broken down into smaller teams, I stayed on the sidelines and watched. I always itched to get out on the field and take over instructing, but I had to let the teachers teach. After all, that's what I had them there to do, and I wanted them to feel empowered enough to carry on with their planned drills. The last thing they needed was me barging around and creating havoc for them.

And Theo was the supervisor for the instructors, not me. It was up to Theo to make sure the instructors were following our program. I trusted him to make the right decisions as far as our team of instructors was concerned. I was there to learn about the students.

It was the best part of doing the clinics, as far as I was concerned. If I couldn't really work with any of them on an individual basis, I could still get to know them by spending time on the field with each group. I learned quickly who were the ones with real potential. I found out which kids were the bullies. I discovered the ones who were the "good kids." I identified the leaders of both groups, the kids the others listened to, and I got to be friendly with the shy ones. There are always outcasts in every grouping, and our camps were no different. Some parents were desperate for their kids to belong somewhere, anywhere, and they signed them up for all sorts of stuff, hoping to spark an interest or find a group they would fit in with, kids similar to their own.

The natural leaders and the bullies always had their hangers-on. For the others, I tried to give them a sense of belonging. I spent quite a lot of my time with the others, the ones who needed a friendly supporter within the structure of the clinic. After just a few visits, I was able to subtly influence all the cliques within the recreational groups (the competitive groups didn't usually have these segregations, because kids who had achieved this level of performance tended to be more assertive, at least on the field), and many of the shy ones were befriended and assimilated.

Sometimes being the top gun worked in my favor. I tried to do my best for all the kids, both on the field and in life.

For the Fourth of July, the instructors and I got some extra time off. The Fourth fell on Thursday, so we all worked a short week. The drug store was closed on Thursday, but Kayla was scheduled to work all day Friday, as well as Saturday until noon. I could live with that. After all, we had an extra day to be together.

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Dearest Sean, I can't believe it's already the middle of September! Junior year is going by so fast for me! On the other hand, it seems like a year since I was able to see you, to feel your presence next to me. I miss you so much! Christmas is an eternity away! Homecoming is in about three weeks. Jaimie and I are going to babysit Kyle so that Stephen and Tara can go to the dance. And before you even say anything, NO!!! I WON'T go if you're not there with me. And Jaimie feels the same...

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The Competitive Edge Playing The Game IIIEpilogue That Which Has Passed That Which Will Be

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The Competitive Edge Playing The Game IIIChapter 44 The Dance

I was nervous as hell. Why am I nervous? Because you don't know how this is all going to turn out, said the cautious Sean, perched on my shoulder like an albatross. The game is afoot, as the British say, and I'm in it all the way. You're an idiot, retorted the cautious Sean, just before he disappeared. I adjusted my bow tie for about the twentieth time. I was standing in front of the full-length mirror on the back of my parents' closet door. I was wearing my father's tuxedo. My...

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The Competitive Edge Playing The Game IIIChapter 28 Its A Drummer Thing

A couple of weeks later, the three of us were co-existing in an unusual triangle. Alex and I slept together several times, and Erin and I found places to have sex a couple of times. I assumed Alex and Erin also got together without me. I wasn't sure I liked the arrangement, but I sure liked the variety. Did I feel guilty about it all? Maybe just a little, but this wasn't love. This wasn't anything even remotely resembling love. This was a friendly case of college lust fulfilled. Not...

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Welcome to The Hentai World! Ever want to see Mercy or DVA from Overwatch give amazing blowjobs or watch that thick bitch 2B for Nier: Automata get fucked? The answer should always be an eager yes. You can see all of that and more in the wonderful world of hentai porn. It comes in all kinds of sexy formats. Pictures, videos, SFM animations, VR, and more. No other kind of porn allows all of your darkest, kinkiest fantasies to come to life. Watch impossibly proportioned sluts get fucked in every...

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The Competitive Edge Playing The Game IIIChapter 35 The ThousandMile Chain

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The Competitive Edge Playing The Game IIIChapter 40 Chick Stuff

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The Competitive Edge Playing The Game IIIChapter 27 The Girl Is In Charge

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The Competitive Edge Playing The Game IIIChapter 3 A Faster Game

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The Competitive Edge Playing The Game IIIChapter 7 Girls With Boys Names

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The Competitive Edge Playing The Game IIIChapter 19 Cute Butts

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The Competitive Edge Playing The Game IIIChapter 15 Angel in the Doorway

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The Competitive Edge Playing The Game IIIChapter 16 The Heat Let Loose

Kayla came to me then. I shifted over on the bed and held the sheet and blanket up for her in silent invitation. She sat on the bed, her back to me, and used the remote control to switch the television off. She turned to me, and even in the darkness I could tell she was smiling. "I don't want you distracted by the TV," she said. She giggled softly as she slipped into bed beside me. There was no way any television show was going to take my attention away from my luscious angel, but I...

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The Competitive Edge Playing The Game IIIChapter 13 Cause and Effect

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The Competitive Edge Playing The Game IIIChapter 5 The Conversation on a Swing

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On the living room sofa, Rolanda continued to stroke my spent body with her soft hands, dragging her beautifully manicured red nails gently through the cum-soaked hair of my chest and my pubic arch as we smoked in relaxed silence. She was the picture of mature loveliness in her chic nautically-themed outfit. I looked down and admired her stunning red pumps, and then we kissed again, interrupting my reverie with the insertion of her minty smoke-scented tongue between my teeth while...

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"Let's review," shouted the upperclassman with the bullhorn. "The Green Team has won one event and the Gold Team has won one. In higher education we call that a tie. So here's the deal, we will play one more game. Winners will be considered very, very cool... losers... oh my... losers will have to be initiated. I can't tell you too much about the initiation, but just think mud pit... over there... yes, that one. Keep mud pit in mind as you play. Also think indentured servitude. History...

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I’m still groggy, but the things the mouth are doing to my cock are nothing to complain about. I look down at the head in my lap. The shiny blond (I think she’s blond at least) ringlets of curls tickling my abdomen as her head moves up and down. And my fat knob compresses as she works it past her gag reflex and into her throat. She occasionally fights off the urge to choke as she lets out noises that are almost obscene, but positively sexy when she does. Blasting deep into her mouth, I...

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