Johnny be bad
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Johnny PulaskiChapter 10 free porn video
I was on autopilot driving home from my date with Shelia. I couldn't stop thinking about her, or reliving our evening. I was elated and scared witless, both at the same time. The reason I was scared was because Shelia was the first girl I had ever dated without the advantage of the connection thing. As the evening had progressed with Shelia I started to get a sense of how she felt but it wasn't the clear signal I was use to getting. I was also scared because Shelia soared with the socially elite eagles while I scratched with the more fun chickens.
I liked Shelia a whole lot, but I wasn't prepared to sacrifice my friendships over her. Nor was I comfortable taking her out of her element, as it might cause her problems with her friends and family. Her mother was already looking at me as if she'd found my picture on the sexual predator website. Oh yeah, and throw a healthy dose of fear of failure in there too. I was beginning to think that a second date wasn't such a hot idea after all. Better to cut my losses before I got into this any deeper, I decided.
The next morning we departed the high school at nine-thirty bound for the Citrus Bowl. I was pretty stoked at the chance of playing in a major football stadium. I purposely avoided the bus that Shelia and her teammates were on, and took my usual seat among the lineman and defensive backs. So there I sat feeling wretchedly noble as we convoyed to Orlando.
Once we were in the locker room at the stadium I was able to forget about Shelia and start concentrating on football. Our opponent for the game was Apopka High. Apopka was a perennial contender; state champions two of the last five years. We matched up well with Apopka, Both of us had strong defenses and solid, if uninspiring offenses. Apopka did have one halfback with speed and good moves, but we felt we could contain him by keeping him from running outside.
Our advantage was our kicking game. We had a place kicker that had future NFL player stamped on his forehead. His name was Jose Luna, but everyone called him Joe Moon. He was a soccer player Coach Boyette recruited early in the season and patiently trained. Joe Moon was only five-seven, and weighed about a buck-forty, but he could kick a football a mile. Joe was a little quirky and superstitious but he was a hell of a kicker.
I knew Joe from church; we actually took our confirmation classes together. Joe was mega-religious; he wore a crucifix large enough to hang in a church. He knelt on the sidelines and prayed before every kick then kissed the crucifix. Joe also had a schlong about the size of one of his arms. I swear it hung below his towel when he came out of the shower. Joe had to coil that monster like a rope to get it in a jockstrap. I figured Joe would need a two-quart transfusion to get enough blood to get fully hard.
So anyway, back to the game. We loss the toss and kicked off, then for thirty minutes we seesawed up and down the field. We got down to their twenty and Joe kicked a 35-yard field goal. They scored on a fumble recovery and runback late in the half. We went into the locker room trailing seven to three. The second half was more of the same, Joe kicked a field goal in the third quarter and we kept Apopka off the scoreboard. At the two-minute warning we had the ball on our forty-five yard line trailing seven to six. Coach put me in as the second tight end. We ran the ball up the middle five times, once on fourth down, to eke out twenty yards.
Coach called a time out and sent in our field goal unit with five seconds remaining in the game. When Joe got down on one knee to pray, Coach Boyette dropped down and joined him. Apopka was a suburb of Orlando so their supporters at the game out numbered ours by thousands. Every one of those supporters was on their feet screaming at Joe to miss. When he kicked the ball it flew towards the goal as straight as an arrow but didn't look as if it had enough leg to make it. Everyone in the stadium held their breath as the ball fell from the sky. The ball hit the crossbar and teetered for a second before falling into the end zone. The referee threw up his hands signaling good and we pig piled Joe Moon.
When we passed the cheerleaders as we headed to the locker room, Shelia yelled, "great game Johnny." I gave her a casual wave and kept running.
Joe Moon was suddenly a celebrity. The Sunday edition of the Palmdale Standard proclaimed, "Moon shines, Panthers win." Father Donavan even made reference to the game in his homily. Of course he cited Joe's devoutness as a reason for our success. I dodged Shelia after Mass and spent the day with my family.
I was on cruise control at school the first three days of the next week, classes, practice and homework pretty much filled my waking hours. I did get the blood tests on Monday afternoon; I checked myself out of school after lunch with a note from the nurse to get them. The nurse at the clinic said she'd probably have the results by Thursday and would call me.
I had been thinking about Shelia all week. I decided I owed it to her to tell her how I felt. I called her after dinner Wednesday evening. As happens about eighty percent of the time in my dealings with women, nothing went as I had planned or expected. After exchanging a few pleasantries I told Shelia I didn't think another date would be a good idea and then I told her why. I don't know what kind of reaction I was expecting but it sure wasn't the one I got.
"That is absolute fucking bullshit!" she shouted. "You don't even know me and you've already labeled me. You're the one that's a snob."
Oh yeah, and she also called me a jackass and an idiot before she slammed the phone down. Shelia's vehement reaction startled me. I was expecting some graceful socialite's cool reception to my idea. Instead, I had a snarling wild woman. Man, her temper was as Irish as her hair. I called Dee-Dee on her cell phone for some counsel. Dee-Dee listened to my story and told me that everything Shelia said was right. Then she made me feel lower than whale shit by reminding me how much Rachael hurt me by ditching me via the phone.
"So what do I do now?" I asked.
"You are going to have to meet with her somehow and make this right. Grovel if you need to. She sounds like a hell of a lot more woman than you thought."
That last sentence of Dee's was the understatement of the year. Jeez, what a jerk I was. As soon as I finished mentally kicking myself I picked up the phone. My father told me it was best to deal with something unpleasant as soon as possible, so I dialed the Cavanaughs' number. Mr. Cavanaugh answered the phone.
"Hello Johnny, hold on a sec and I'll get Shelia."
"Actually Mr. Cavanaugh I need to talk to you, sir," I said.
"Oh? What about?"
"Uh, I would rather tell you face to face, it's nothing bad about Shelia, though," I said.
"Well you certainly have my attention; sure, come on over."
I thanked him, told Dad where I was going and trudged out to my truck. I buzzed the call box at the Cavanaughs' gate just before eight, and the gate swung open. Mr. Cavanaugh opened the door for me again and led me into the big family room. Mrs. Cavanaugh was sitting on the couch, she did not look happy to see me.
I cleared my throat and told them why I was there. Then I asked for permission to see Shelia and apologize and explain things to her. Mr. Cavanaugh nodded his head and turned to his wife.
"Thomas will you give me a few minutes to talk to Mr. Pulaski before you get Shelia?"
Mr. Cavanaugh said sure and left the room. As soon as he was gone Shelia's mom rounded on me.
"I had you checked out Mr. Pulaski, and I'm not impressed by what I found out. I was especially unimpressed with the gang fight you were in over some girl."
"That doesn't surprise me, Mrs. Cavanaugh, you having me investigated, I mean. That sort of thing is one reason I felt that Shelia and I wouldn't work. And my name is Johnny; Mr. Pulaski belongs to my father and grandfather."
Her eyebrows arched up at my response.
"What do you mean that sort of thing? It is my responsibility to check out who my daughter dates."
"So how many of the other boy's that she's dated have you investigated?"
Her silence was my answer.
"I thought so. You didn't check out the other guys because they all probably revolved in your social circles. Because I don't, I was immediately suspect. I figure Shelia will start thinking the same way before long, that's why I don't think it's a good idea to see her again. So see? Things are going to work out your way. I am only apologetic that I hid behind the phone to tell her that."
Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she could think of something to say. I don't think she appreciated being called a rich snob.
"Not seeing my daughter won't hurt you much, Mr. Pulaski, I know you are going with at least two other girls and possibly an older woman."
I couldn't help it; I cracked up laughing.
"Mrs. Cavanaugh you sure need a more thorough investigator. You only have part of the facts."
As soon as I said that I looked up and saw Shelia standing there looking confused.
"What investigator Mom?" Shelia asked.
Mrs. Cavanaugh jerked around toward her daughter. "How long have you been standing there?"
"I just got here, Dad sent me down. What are you doing here Johnny, and what are you two talking about?"
Mrs. Cavanaugh looked at me beseechingly. So I explained things to Shelia.
"I came here to apologize in person for being such a jerk on the phone. You mother heard some things about me that were only partially true and I was about to give her the real story."
I turned and looked at Mrs. Cavanaugh. "I did get in a fight about a girl last year. Her name is Caroline Hernandez. I challenged this gang leader because it was the only way I could think of to get him to leave her alone. He was trying to force her into a relationship with him. The fight wasn't over her affection, I barely knew her. Afterwards she and I became friends and we even went on a few dates, but, bottom line, we are just friends. I have dated older women, I'm not ashamed to admit that, either."
Mrs. Cavanaugh started to say something but Shelia butted in.
"Mom everyone knows about that fight, it's a school legend and I know about the college girl he dated last year. You could have asked me instead of hiring a detective."
I jumped in on her mom's behalf saying I thought it was good that she checked on potential suitors. Then I asked Shelia if we could talk in private for a minute. She agreed and we went out on the porch. Out on the porch in the pale moonlight I raised groveling to an art form. I apologized again, I told her I liked her and that my call was motivated by a fear that she would reject me. Then, God help me, I asked her out for another date. I had no intention of doing that even five minutes ago.
"I'm too mad at you to accept a date now, Johnny, ask me again next week and we'll see."
It wasn't as good an answer as I'd hoped for but it was better than I feared. Know what else? I couldn't for the life of me figure out when it became so important that we went out again. I mean sure, she was beautiful and I'd had fun on our date but I had girls and women just as pretty. Women that also loved having sex with me, yet, I didn't moon over them. Weird stuff, huh?
I walked Shelia back into the house, apologized to her parents for taking up so much of their time, and then headed home. I felt better for what I'd done.
I managed to get through the rest of the week without stepping on my dick again, wonder of wonders. The clinic called. I verified my identity with the code number they gave me and got a clean bill of health.
We had our semi-final football game on Saturday; we played the late afternoon game in Tampa at the University of South Florida stadium. Our opponent was a regional powerhouse with a perfect ten — zero record for the year. We were leery of Tampa North High because they had beaten their first round opponent by thirty-five points.
Turns out we were worried for nothing. Tampa North self-destructed, starting with fumbling the opening kickoff. It was one of those days when everything they touched turned to crap. Their offense was a litany of dropped passes, missed blocks and poor ball handling. I also think they set a record for penalties. I was embarrassed for them. We advance to the championship game by winning twenty-one to nothing. If coach hadn't slowed us down it could have been a slaughter. I guess I could spice up the account of the game by describing my heroic play. So here goes. I held my ground and strung out blockers when Tampa's triple option came my way. I was in on three or four tackles. End of story.
The actual highlight of my game turned out to be giving a very surprised Shelia a rose as the team ran onto the field. Before we left the locker room I told coach what I was going to do. I told him it was a way of saying I was sorry for a misunderstanding between Shelia and me. Coach gave me his usual ration of shit. He called me a pussy hound in front of a few of my grinning teammates.
"If you worked as hard at playing football as you did getting laid Pulaski, you'd be a superstar," he lamented.
My teammates hooted a few comments, egging Coach on. I flipped a finger towards Coach's Greek Chorus and filed out of the locker room with as much dignity as I could muster. I paid dearly for the rose gesture as Coach Boyette, then my teammates, called me Lover Boy for the rest of the game.
On the first play we were on defense Coach yelled, "Watch for a sweep, Lover Boy." Coach Boyette's voice carried like a bullhorn, he sent the cheerleading squad into a giggling fit. Thank God it didn't catch on as a nickname.
Sunday at Mass Shelia thanked me for the rose. She said it was a sweet thing to do and she was sorry I got razzed about it. By contrast, her teammates on the cheerleading squad thought it was very romantic. I didn't ask her out, although I was dying to, because it hadn't been a week since my big fuck up. (You'll notice that I am not one for cussing much, never have been. But sometimes only one expression is appropriate to describe something, and fuck up was it for what I had done.) Shelia's mother treated me nicer too, and her father was his usual nice guy self. I really liked Mr. Cavanaugh and he seemed to like me. I'm guessing that I was a change from being surrounded by four women all the time.
Elaine and Ellen, Shelia's twin sisters, were unusual girls. They were so identical in looks and mannerisms even their parents had a hard time telling them apart. For thirteen year olds they were also very quiet. Shelia said they were some kind of geniuses and no one quite knew what to do with them. I guess that's why everyone was so surprised when one of them said, "We want Johnny to go to lunch with us and we want to ride with him."
Mr. and Mrs. Cavanaugh exchanged glances and Mrs. Cavanaugh shrugged and nodded. I found out later that the twins seldom asked for anything, but when they did want something, it was almost impossible for their parents, or anyone else, to say no. I told them I'd have to ask my father first about the lunch thing; if it was okay with him I would join them. Dad gave me the okay and the twins bracketed me as I walked to my truck. What followed was about the weirdest things I've ever encountered.
As soon as we were in the truck and I had started the engine the twin sitting in the middle touched my arm. I actually shivered at the strong connection we made. If that wasn't weird enough, as soon as she touched me I knew it was Ellen. Then the other girl touched me too and I had a moment of vertigo. I was thankful they weren't sending out sexual feeling, or I would have come in my pants. Just as quickly as they touched me they took their hands away. I put the truck in gear and carefully steered out of the parking lot.
"What was that?" I asked.
"Experiment," said Elaine, "We thought you might be like us, you are the only person besides Mom, our aunt, and each other that we ever tingled with."
"Yours is a lot stronger than Mom's," added Ellen.
"But not as strong as ours," finished Elaine.
The girls told me about themselves while we were driving. They were too damned smart for words. To top it off, they said they were reticent to show most people how smart and talented they really were. That's why they were quiet so much. With me they had found a kindred spirit of sorts, so they let it all hang out. By kindred spirit, I don't mean their intellectual equal; I wasn't even in the same ballpark that way. I mean the 'tingle' thing. They laughed when I asked how they came up with tingle to describe the connection. Ellen explained that they started calling it that when they were five and never gave it another name.
Geraldine
- 05.01.2021
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