The Bastien of Winter
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A New PastChapter 4: A Blue Winter free porn video
“We need to talk,” Wendy said as we lay together in the broad backseat of her car, pleasantly warm despite the chill night air outside. We were theoretically celebrating our first win of post-season play, but that would be too close to “normal” for Wendy, so I kept the thought to myself.
I rested my hands on her bare ass as she propped herself up with her elbows resting on my chest. Her face was inches from me and her eyes were serious.
“So talk,” I said with a smile.
She stared at me for a second and then sighed. “Your damn cute green eyes make this hard. I like you too much for my own good.”
“I like you too,” I said. “What’s hard about it?”
She flexed her internal muscles and I felt myself slip out of her. She laughed. “Nothing’s too hard anymore, I guess.” I laughed with her and gave her a kiss. Just as she started to respond, she stopped herself.
“Stop that. We really need to talk. I want you to know that I really do like you, and this isn’t about you, it’s about me.”
Uh-oh.
She saw the change in my face and took a deep breath. “I’m not going to be back in school after Thanksgiving. I don’t want you to think it’s about you.”
“Where are you going? Are you moving?”
She shook her head, bit her lip, and then dropped her head against my shoulder. I felt a shudder pass through her, almost a sob.
“I’m going to be in Bloomington, in the hospital,” she managed to get out before I felt the tears drip on me.
I was at a loss. I stroked her back and hair and waited for her to calm down. “It’s alright, Wendy. It will be alright,” I kept repeating.
Eventually, she regained her composure. “I wanted to tell you tonight, since I have to start talking to teachers on Monday. I wanted you to hear it from me instead of your mother. It’s the reason I can’t let you be my boyfriend, even though I’ve thought of you that way for the past couple of weeks. This is serious.”
I kissed her. “I can take serious,” I said. “After all, I am abnormal as you know.”
She forced a smile. “I’m scared, Paul. I try to make light of things, but I’m worried.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“I’ve got a tumor in my chest. They’re not exactly sure if it is cancer or a growth, but they want to find out and cut it out either way. I will be out until after the new year at least.”
I kissed her gently and hugged her tightly. “Thanks for telling me. I’ll come visit you, you know, but I can’t bring flowers. That would be too normal,” I whispered.
She kissed me and then said, “Like hell you will. I want you to promise not to visit until I come home.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Not going to happen. Do you really think I’m going to miss a chance to see you in one of those sexy hospital gowns? When else would I have such easy access to your delightful charms?”
She laughed and kissed me. “Thanks for being such a good friend, Paul.”
We kissed again, and again and soon had a ‘hard’ discussion. While our first time had been fast and passionate, this time we made slow, gentle love, at least right up until Wendy’s orgasm met mine. As I pushed her over the edge, she grabbed me tightly and bit my shoulder almost painfully. I was too close to be distracted and shot into her as her incredible pussy throbbed around me.
When we finally parted and started getting dressed, I saw the teeth marks and start of a hickey on my shoulder. I glanced at her and then back at my shoulder. She blushed, and smirked at me.
“I figured I should mark my territory while I still can,” she said sheepishly.
Monday at practice, Wendy and I became more than friends when several teammates saw my shoulder in the shower. She had definitely marked me well.
“Shit, that fullback is killing us,” Jared Peterson said as he dropped to the bench and grabbed a drink.
I had to agree with him. We were rotating every series, trying to keep fresh to handle the huge fullback who was just as effective carrying the ball as he was blocking. He seemed to be able to reliably pick up three yards every time he touched the ball.
It was fourteen to ten in their favor with seven minutes left in the game. Every minute was a struggle to contain their running game for the defense. Our pass option offense had kept us in the game, but if we could not stop them this drive, we were going to lose.
“Taylor!”
I hustled up to Coach J. “Yes, coach!”
“I want a weak side run blitz. Hit that son-of-a-gun in the backfield, and let him know we are in this game too! Got it?”
“Got it!” I sprinted to the defensive huddle as Simons came out. I told them the plan, and we lined up. As soon as the ball was snapped, I sped through the line. It looked like the fullback was running the other way, blocking for the halfback. I kicked up my speed before noticing the QB rolling away.
“Fake!” I heard and immediately adjusted my path. The quarterback rolled out in front of me and started sprinting for the sideline. I could clearly see the ball tucked in his arm. I zeroed in on him in a split second, and wrapped him up for a powerful tackle. It looked like a seven yard loss on the play as I headed back to the huddle.
“Good job, Taylor!” I accepted a couple of high-fives and then listened to the next play. I was blitzing again.
This time the play was toward my side of the field. The tight-end released his block on me as the running play developed. In a second I saw the fullback barreling down on me. His hands were up, getting ready to block me into next week. The halfback must have the ball. I tried to dodge the block, but suddenly found myself flying backward as he slammed into me. I landed poorly, knocking the breath out of me. As the whistle blew, I slowly rolled to my knees as I tried to get up. Finally, as I started to move toward the huddle, I saw Jared coming out to relieve me.
“Thanks, man,” I managed to say as I trotted back to the sideline.
“You okay, Taylor?” Coach J asked.
“Yes, sir, just got the wind knocked out of me.”
“Okay, catch your breath and listen up.” He waved Simons closer to us. “Next third down, you and Simons are going in together. We’re pulling a safety. Simons, I want you to line up there, but in, as if we’re stacking linebackers in middle. Taylor, you’ve been able to beat the tight-end all night. Can you do it again?” I nodded.
“Good. You take the tight-end out and open a hole. Simons, you get the lead blocker. I don’t know which of the backs it will be, but they have gone weak side every third down regardless of who is carrying the ball. Taylor, you release as soon as Simons is through and get the carrier. We need to stop this drive before they are in field goal range and get our offense back on the field to have a shot at winning. Got it?”
“Yes, Coach!” we replied.
Seconds later we were out in the defensive huddle.
“Weak side run blitz,” Simon told them as we huddled up.
We lined up. The ball was snapped. I hit the tight-end and tied him up to the outside as Simons shot between the tackle and the tight-end. I release and looked up field. My legs started pumping as I saw Simons hit the half-back. That meant the fullback had the ball. Or the quarterback. I centered on the fullback and saw the ball tucked under his arm. I dipped and came up quickly.
It was like hitting a wall. I wrapped him up and kept my legs pumping as he struggled to bowl over me and I tried to pull him down. He was so strong! I felt his momentum turning us around. If he got past me, he might break lose. Desperate, I got a foot on top of his foot and just pulled back as hard as I could.
What took a blink of an eye, felt like a full minute. Slowly, to me, our momentum shifted. We tipped. Speed picked up as we tumbled down and two hundred and eight pounds of fullback slammed me into the ground. For the second time that night, the breath was forced out of me. This time, no matter what I tried to do, I could not get my lungs to expand and draw in air. My vision swam as I heard the ref’s whistle ending the play. Then darkness took me.
I woke to the noxious smell of ammonia in my nose and jerked my head away trying to avoid the odor.
“Take it easy, Taylor,” I heard the someone say. My eyes watered and I tried to see what was going on. A doctor I did not recognize and Coach J were beside me. “Easy,” he said again and held me down as I tried to rise. “You got knocked out. How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Two.” It was still painful to breathe, but my surroundings were coming back to me.
“Good. Let’s sit you up.” He held my shoulder as I did.
“Dizzy?”
“No, it’s just hard to catch my breath.”
“Okay, let’s get you on your feet.” Coach J helped me up with a strong arm under my shoulder. The doctor took my other arm. I stood on shaky legs as the crowd started clapping. I let them guide me to the sideline and heard the ref’s whistle get the game going again.
“What happened?” I finally managed to ask. “Did we stop them?”
“Loss of two on the play, Taylor. Good job. Do what the Doc tells you. You’re done for the night.”
I moved to the bench with the doctor at my side and sat down heavily.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a train. I’m having a hard time catching my breath,” I admitted.
He frowned at me and then helped me take off my jersey and shoulder pads. He lifted the t-shirt I wore beneath the pads and then winced. “That’s got to be painful, he said as he examined the bruise already forming. “You might have a cracked rib or two, son.” He said as he probed the area none too gently.
Finally, he sat back. “Nothing’s out of place, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got a couple of cracked ribs. You’re done being a linebacker for the season, I’d say.”
I heard a groan from the stands and saw our punting team head out on the field.
“I think we might be done playing football as a team, as well.”
“Well, let’s get you taped up so you aren’t too sore tonight. You’ll want to go see your doctor tomorrow.” He opened a large first aid kit beside the bench and pulled out some cotton gauze and tape.
I had never had a broken rib before. I don’t recommend it. Once I was taped tightly, it was still hard to breath, and breathing deeply is impossible, but it was better than it had been before I was taped up. The doctor helped me get my jersey back on just as the final whistle blew.
The score was still fourteen-ten. Our season was over. I managed to join the line to shake hands with the winning team and was pleased when I met the fullback that had plowed me over. “Good tackle, kid. I can’t believe you’re a freshman,” he said as he shook my hand. “Sorry you got hurt,” he added.
“Thanks. Good game and good luck at state.” I thought I should be angry at him, but it was clear he was just playing as hard as he could; it wasn’t personal. While I hurt from the hit and the loss, I couldn’t really be mad at him for playing well.
Wendy joined me from the sidelines with worry in her eyes.
“Hey Wendy,” I said sheepishly hoping she would not hug me.
“You clumsy oaf, are you alright?”
“Cracked ribs most likely. I’d really appreciate it if you did not try to hug me to see if they are feeling better.” She smiled and grabbed the shoulders of my jersey.
“Then I suggest you bend gently and give me a kiss. I was worried about you while you were lying out there.”
I bent and kissed her on the lips. I wanted more. “Have you seen my girlfriend, Abby?”
She looked at me. “Abby?”
“Abby Normal. She’s my kind of girl and doesn’t worry much when I get a little roughed up,” I said with a grin.
Wendy punched my arm, and then hugged it. “I’m glad your head was too thick to be hurt.”
“Thanks.” I gave her another quick kiss and then we headed to the bench to get the rest of my gear. The football season was over. It was time to move on with other things.
The next week was short. We only had school two days because of Thanksgiving. Wendy was quiet and withdrawn, despite my best abnormal puns and jokes. I could tell she was worried. Monday night, after dinner, I asked my mother what I should do.
“Paul, Wendy has a pretty serious situation facing her. I don’t know how I would react in her shoes. I’m guessing that she has not told a lot of her friends. When you’re sick, well, some people can be unintentionally cruel and treat you like whatever is wrong is catching. I’m sure she is afraid of that reaction.”
“In the four years she has been in my class, I’ve never seen her with really close friends. She is friendly with everyone, but honestly, I’ve seen her hang out with you more than any other boy or girl outside a sports activity.”
“I think that should tell you how much she values your friendship. If I were you, I’d just keep being her friend.”
I thought about it a bit as we finished cleaning up the kitchen from dinner.
“Mom, do you think you could take me to the hospital on Saturday? I’d like to visit a friend who’s sick.”
My Mom smiled at me and gave me a hug. “Of course I can, Paul.”
The next day at lunch I managed to corner Wendy in the cafeteria. She hadn’t really avoided me, but she had been harder to find then usual.
“Hey, Abby, how are you doing today,” I asked with a grin.
She punched me, forgetting about my ribs until she saw me wince in pain. “Oh, Paul, I’m sorry. I forgot.”
I waved it away. “It’s okay. You’ll just have to kiss it better,” I said with a leer. She smiled at me.
“I think I’d like to kiss a lot more than your ribs.”
“Got any plans after school?” I asked.
“Just hanging out with a friend, I think.”
“Cool. Can I come along?”
She threatened to punch me again. “You had better. This strange guy has been torturing me with bad jokes and puns. I think you should scare him off with your abnormal size.”
“I look forward to it, ma’am. I’ll see you after classes.” Before she could avoid it, I darted in and kissed her. She had a smile when I pulled back. “See you then, you cradle robber.”
We pulled out of the parking lot and cruised around town. I could tell Wendy was thinking again, which was not always a good thing for her moods.
“What’s up, buttercup?” I asked after ten minutes of silence.
She looked and me and winked. “It’s a surprise.”
A few minutes later, she pulled into a driveway of a nice looking house in a newer subdivision of town. She parked the car.
“What’s this?” I asked as we got out and walked to the door.
“I told you it was a surprise.”
She opened the front door and ushered me into the front hallway. I could hear someone in the kitchen.
“Mom, I’ve got company,” Wendy called. I was surprised. In the weeks I had known her, we had never come to her house. A few minutes later, I was face to face with an older, plumper version of Wendy. “Mom, this is Paul Taylor. Paul, this is my mother, Linda Stenzel. Mom, Paul’s my boyfriend.”
Knock me over with a feather.
“Paul, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Please, come into the kitchen. I’m making dinner. Would you like to stay?”
I glanced at Wendy who nodded.
“Of course, if you have enough,” I said.
“Oh, we have plenty. Come in, come in.”
We followed her back to the kitchen and sat at the counter as she returned to cutting up vegetables. Mrs. Stenzel insisted that I call my Mom and let her know where I was. I did as I was told as Wendy joined her mother behind the counter to help.
“Wendy,” her mother said. “Why is this the first time we’re meeting Paul? I recognize his name. You’ve been seeing him since the game against Flanagan haven’t you?” Flanagan was the first game I played with the Varsity.
Wendy looked at her mother. “How did you know?”
“You think your mother can’t tell when you find someone special?” I blushed. I noticed Wendy was as well. “I was happy, but a little sad you didn’t want to bring him over sooner. Your father will be thrilled as well.”
Meeting the father. Uh-oh.
I was saved by further dark thoughts by the sound of the garage door opening. A moment later, another commotion came storming through the door.
“We won the scrimmage,” a young boy shouted as he burst into the room. As soon as he saw me, he stopped and dropped a gear bag at his feet. “You’re Paul Taylor. You were the first freshman to score while playing varsity. I’m going to be the second!”
I laughed and looked at Wendy and her Mom who were staring at the young man in shock. Wendy finally shook her head. “Paul, this is my little brother, Allen. He obviously knows who you are.”
I held out my hand to shake his and then looked up to see Wendy’s father come in. He was a big man, at least six-three. Next to his wife’s five-three, and his son’s four foot something height, he looked like a giant.
“And I’m Allen Sr.” He said as he extended his hand. “You can call me Mr. Stenzel,” he said with a smile.
“Yes, sir,” I said as I shook his hand.
He laughed and then kissed his wife and daughter on the cheek. “Do I need to fetch the shotgun, Wendy? If you’re bringing a boy home, it must be serious.”
Wendy blushed again and grabbed my hand for moral support. “No shotgun yet, daddy. But your behavior might be why I haven’t brought anyone by before.”
“Hey, what about me?” Allen junior asked. “I thought I was the one scaring off the boys. That’s what you always said.”
We all laughed and soon Allen was regaling us with highlights of his pee-wee hockey game. It was the first game he had gotten to play in, even if it was just a full scrimmage.
Dinner was delicious and lively. Mr. Stenzel quizzed me about football while Allen wanted to know how I got to play varsity as a freshman. Mrs. Stenzel asked about classes and seemed impressed that I was in three honors courses.
After dinner, I helped clean up, along with Allen and Wendy. Shortly thereafter, Wendy’s parents said goodnight and took Allen upstairs insisting he needed a bath before bed. Wendy and I finished drying dishes and the sat on the couch in the living room with the TV.
Wendy carefully snuggled up under my arm and draped a blanket over us.
“Thanks for being such a great guy tonight. My little brother worships you.”
“He’s a great kid.” I kissed her. “You have a lovely family.”
She smiled and kissed me again. Soon, we were fully embraced, the TV ignored. I ran my hands over her breasts lightly as I kissed her neck. The thought of getting caught making out on the couch had me incredibly turned on. Apparently, Wendy felt the same way.
“I want to jump your bones right here, right now,” she whispered in my ear.
“We can’t,” I whispered back as I slipped my hand inside her shirt and caressed her ribs and then cupped her breast though her satiny bra. “But I bet I can get you off.” I added as I nibbled on her ear lobe.
Wendy moaned and then bit my shoulder trying to keep quiet. I slipped my hand down her stomach and methodically worked her belt open, then the button of her jeans, and finally the zipper. I could feel the heat radiating from her.
I stroked her slowly through her panties working her toward an orgasm slowly. Soon I knew she was close. She tried to thrust against my hand but I withdrew it.
“What are you doing,” she hissed in my ear. “I was so close.”
“I thought I heard someone coming down the hallway.”
Wendy sat up under the blanket and looked toward the stairs for a few minutes, as if watching for any sign of movement. Finally, she turned back to me. “No one is there.”
We kissed again and soon I was working her back toward an orgasm. Again, I took her close to the brink and then stopped and looked at the stairs.
She groaned in frustration.
“You’re teasing me,” she accused.
“Maybe,” I said with a smirk followed by a kiss.
“If you don’t make me cum soon, I’m going to make you walk home,” she threatened.
I nibbled on her neck and let my fingers resume their teasing task.
“Oh, yeah,” she moaned softly. I stroked into her a little faster and made sure my thumb was strumming her clit as I decided to let her reach release this time. If her mother or father chose that minute to come back down stairs, I was a dead man. I stroked one last time and kissed her hard as her orgasm finally came. She moaned into my mouth and arched against my body. My ribs hurt like hell, and I did not care as I continued to stroke her lightly and kiss her as deeply as I could.
We finally broke our embrace, both breathless. I stroked her pussy gently and was rewarded with another shudder racing though her body. She grabbed my shoulders and rode my hand. Just as I thought she was done, her pussy clenched my fingers and she bit my shoulder hard.
“Oh, god, that is enough,” she finally said as she pushed my hand away from her. I held her tightly as she caught her breath. “You’ve never made me come that hard before. You are not normal, I tell you. You are amazing.” She kissed me again.
“You’re pretty amazing, yourself.”
“I still think we could do it right here, on the couch,” she said as she stroked me through my jeans.
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