The Seond Annual Pony Girl race
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DreamweaverChapter 46: First Race free porn video
Bob all but ignored me through the beginning class. What conversation we had was limited to meeting for the trip to Colton after school. Then, just as I was leaving he stopped me and said, "Jimmy, I know you're concerned about Susan, but I can't talk about her except to say that she had to leave for personal reasons. Try not to worry about it, she'll be fine. She just needs some time to work through some things."
"Thanks, Bob. I'll see you in a couple hours. We're going to run circles around Colton." I handed him my phone. "Maybe you could hold on to this for me, since I'm not allowed to take it with me."
He smiled and nodded, "And this way you're not breaking any rules, very shrewd. Go on, I don't want you to be late."
I was right about Colton. We ran away from them. When I crossed the finish line I discovered I had my own cheering section. Britney Cotton was waiting for me. She was chatting with Bob near where I was meeting Tim to stretch and applauded as I came in.
"Hi, BC," I said, as I walked around the area, cooling down and shaking out my limbs. My stomach muscles were really starting to ache and I still couldn't figure out why.
She looked at me oddly, "Hi Jimmy. Why did you call me that?"
"Isn't that your nickname?"
"No. There's only one other person who ever called me that."
Oh shit! Think fast... "Yeah, Angela used to call you that didn't she?"
Now she really looked shocked, "Yeah, but how did you know that?"
"I don't know, I hadn't really thought about it, I guess Tim must have mentioned it after we first met."
"Then remind me to scratch his eyes out! Losing to Angie used to always put me in the foulest moods. One day she called me her little Black Cloud, because I was covered in her dust and had such a bad attitude. I swear I wanted to kill her, but then she hugged me and some of the dust rubbed off on her shirt and it was so funny I just had to laugh. After that it was like it was our private joke. She didn't use it when anyone else was around."
"I'm sorry, Britney, I won't do it again," I said, stretching one leg out before me and leaning into an easy stretch. I wished Tim was there, I actually needed the help, because for some reason I was cramping up if I tried to push myself that far.
"That's okay, I think I like it. I hadn't thought about it, but you know, it's sort of like keeping a piece of her, especially since she was so special to you. You need help with that stretch?"
"If you don't mind touching a hot, sweaty, boy, then yeah, I'd love some help."
"Oh no, I like my men hot and sweaty," she said with a smile. She placed her hands on my back and helped press me into a longer stretch. I could swear she was feeling the muscles in my back as she did it.
Tim's voice suddenly came from behind us, "Matthews, you make me sick. Hi Brit, you know that's how he hooked my sister the first time. They'd just met, and she'd trounced us on an eval-run, next thing you know they're on the ground together. You know where that led ... You running this year?"
"Are you kidding?" she asked. "Hell yes I'm running this year, I finally have a chance to win for a change. You're lucky they haven't made the league co-ed or I'd be running your skinny white ass ragged."
"In your dreams," Tim said, settling himself next to me and beginning to stretch out. "How'd you do, Jimmy?"
"Good. No real strain, strong finish, held my wind all the way through. Maybe a twenty second lead."
"Thirty-four," Britney said casually.
"Thirty-four!" Tim said in a surprised voice. "That's really good for such a short race. I ran well and I probably only had ten. How did Byron do?"
"Smoked the poor guy, left him and never looked back. We're going to have a great year." I let my voice grow more serious, "How did you feel today, Tim."
He knew what I was asking, "Good. A little winded at the end. My finish has gone to hell, that's for sure. Otherwise, I think I ran pretty well. It wasn't easy though; I kept wanting to push the pace. I had to focus on my breathing and actually count strides to hold myself down. It's been a while since I had to think so much about form, but all things considered, I'm not unhappy with it."
I nodded and said, "Maybe you need to do some time work. Set yourself a time and distance, and then see how close you can get."
"I hate time work," he groaned. "It's so boring. The only consistent place to run is on the track."
"Yeah, and the scenery sucks," I said. Then I had an idea, "Hey, now there's an idea; Britney can come along and run in front of us, I don't think we'd get bored with that view."
"Hell, no!" Tim said emphatically, putting up his hand for quick high five. "What do you say Brit?"
"And who would keep the view interesting for me?" she asked in one of those tones that only black girls seemed to be able to pull off. Then she stood back and gave us an appraising look. "Don't get me wrong, Tim, but your butt isn't much to look at. Jimmy now, he's got a pretty nice booty for a white boy ... stand up and turn around for me." I stood up and posed, looking back over my shoulder at her. "Now bend over a little... , hmm. Yeah, that's not bad, those shorts could be a little tighter, but I think you'd do. Still, I don't think the team would be happy with me helping out the competition."
"Don't you want to check my teeth?" I asked.
"Never on the first date," she said with a grin. "Maybe next time, but you have to ask me real nice."
We all had a good laugh and I decided that while we were waiting for the last groups to come in, it would be a good time to call Rebecca. The problem was that it was a little too public to be on the phone. After all I wasn't even supposed to have it there. Then I had an idea.
"Bob," I said when we were alone. "Do me a favor and call Rebecca. Use my phone so you don't have to tell her who it is. All you really need to do is find out if there is anything she needs to talk to me about right away. If not, then let her know I'll call her again later. If she does, then let her know I'll call her back shortly."
Cross country isn't really a glamour sport; it doesn't draw much of a crowd until you get to the big regional meets. Today's meet, being early in the season and between two relatively small schools, hadn't drawn too many people. Apparently though, it had drawn just enough to attract trouble.
We were just packing up our stuff to leave when we heard a commotion; a woman's scream and a few shouts of outrage catching our attention. By the time I turned Byron was already gone, bolting across the parking lot in pursuit of two guys running for the open athletic fields beyond, one of them carrying a woman's purse. Without thinking I took off after him, trying to call him back, but it was no use.
I already knew Byron was a good distance runner, but I had no idea how fast he was. I've never really been much of a sprinter myself; given a mile I'm sure I would have caught the fleeing pair. Byron was on them by the time they reached the far side of the first field. They never even knew he was there until he tackled the one carrying the purse, and let me tell you, Ray Parry would have been proud of that tackle.
Now the real trouble started and I was suddenly very glad I had gone after them. Coming in from a blind angle with the element of surprise is one thing, but the second thug had stopped when his partner went down, turning back to kick at Byron and help his buddy up. As the boy stood, Byron jumped to his feet and grabbed the purse strap, trying to tear it from the older boys grip. I was now only about twenty feet away as both boys rounded on Byron, moving in angrily. They hadn't bothered to check if he was alone.
The one holding the purse swung a fist at Byron and he did his best to block the blow, but his hand was still tangled in the purse strap so all he did was deflect the blow slightly, it still made a pretty solid impact on his left cheek. As the boy drew his arm back for second strike I ran in behind him and swept his feet out from under him, drawing a startled exclamation before he landed hard on the ground.
By now his partner had realized someone else was there and turned from Byron to make a grab at me. Ducking under his reach I landed two quick blows to his abdomen, neither hard enough to do real damage but still hard enough that he felt the blows. As I stepped back he swung hard at me but I was already out of range. In anger he stepped forward, arm drawn back for another powerful swing. Spinning in place, my right foot whipped in a tight arc and at just the right moment, shot forward to slam into his abdomen, just below his ribcage. The force of the blow stopped him and drove the air from his lungs. Before he could recover, my left foot came forward in a sweeping roundhouse, slamming into to the right side of his face and sending him spinning to the ground. Before he even hit the ground I was already turning towards his partner. I expected him to be getting up already, but instead I found him face down on the ground with one arm held in a very painful hammerlock by Byron, who was sitting on top of him.
Bob, the other team's coach, and several others had almost reached us by now. Byron waited until they were within about ten feet before releasing his grip and climbing to his feet. As the unknown thug started to rise to his feet, two men grabbed him, pulled his arms behind his back, and started to bind his wrists with one of their belts.
"No," I said. "At the elbows; the belt won't pull tight enough at the wrists; he'll be able to slip out."
The two men glanced at me, then at each other and then moved the loop of leather up to secure his elbows tightly together. With time he could still get free, but not without attracting attention. The coach from Colton had been on his cell phone as he approached; he was now kneeling over the unconscious boy, checking him over. Within a few seconds a campus security car arrived with lights flashing and two officers stepped out to take over. I faded quickly into the crowd and headed towards the parking lot as they started questioning the group of bystanders. Byron was already in the parking lot, getting a hug from the woman whose purse he had recovered. Once she was done hugging him and wiping her eyes, she immediately started berating him for doing such a foolish thing, stressing that he could have been seriously injured by the two if help hadn't arrived. Byron just stood there and took it, nodding his head, then grabbed the hand that was attached to the finger she was waving in his face, and kissed it.
"Yes," he said. "It was a stupid thing to do, and you're welcome."
The lady didn't know what to say so she hugged him again and kissed his cheek and he walked away toward the little bus that was waiting to take us back.
I stepped in behind him, sat in the seat across the aisle, and said, "Nice tackle."
"Thanks. She's right though, it was a stupid thing to do. If you hadn't come along those two would have pounded me before anyone else got close. Thanks for the save."
"Don't mention it. So, why did you do it?"
He smiled and shook his head. "My grandma's purse got snatched one day. It was in a crowded parking lot, people everywhere, and no one even went after the guy. They were afraid of what could happen and didn't want to get involved. I swore I'd never be like that."
"Where'd you learn to tackle like that?" I asked, changing the subject.
"What do you mean?"
"What do I mean? Dude! That was NFL the way you took that guy down. You ever consider trying out for football?"
"I'm too small."
"Bullshit!"
"No really, I tried out for Pop Warner a couple times, and nobody wanted me."
"Idiots. Hey, their loss. Byron, with your speed, you'd be lethal as a wide receiver."
He looked away, embarrassed. "I can't catch."
"That's just a matter of practice."
"I don't like getting hit."
"Then play defense, you can take them down instead. Most of the time you wouldn't even need to tackle them, just keep them from catching the ball, you should think about it."
"Yeah, what about you, I notice you're here, not there."
"I never thought about it really, mostly for the same reasons you mentioned. But I was talking to someone recently; my friend Mark used to work for him. He asked me about it and some of the things that he said really made sense. Like when he said the only thing Cross Country ever taught anyone was to run away, where football teaches you to face your problems head on and find a way to deal with them."
"Kind of deep for a football player."
I laughed, "You think?"
Just then Tim stuck his head in the door. "Jimmy you better get out here. Britney says if you don't she's coming in after you. I don't think that would look real good."
"Be right there," I answered. "Think about it, Byron."
Britney was waiting for me at the bottom of the steps. As soon as my feet were on solid ground she threw her arms around me, hugging hard, and then kissed me solidly on the mouth. No tongue, but it was quite a kiss nonetheless. You know me, I'm all for hugs and kisses, so I just hugged her back and relaxed into the kiss.
"What was that for?" I asked when she finally pulled back.
"Do I need a reason?" She asked defensively.
"Never for me, I like it when girls do that, but they generally have a reason, especially in a public setting."
"Well, you deserved it! That was a brave thing you did."
"Then you're kissing the wrong guy. Byron was the brave one. He's the one that went after them; I just went after him." I stuck my head back in the door and called, "Hey Byron, get out here," then turned back to BC, "If I'd caught him sooner I would have stopped him, but it was too late by the time I got there."
"No kidding. You know I'd heard the stories but I never believed them. It really was you that put the hurt on Driscoll and Elliott last year."
I could feel my face clouding over, Keith Driscoll and Roger Elliott had been the two players with Brad Russell the night he had jumped me outside the local mall. Brad was one of Angela's ex boyfriends and one of the biggest assholes I had ever met. We had hit it off the first time he showed up; Angela and I were on a date, shopping for Christmas presents at the time, having dinner in the food court. A few words had been exchanged and then Mall Security had escorted Brad out so we could finish our shopping. There were a couple other incidents over the year, all culminating in the unfortunate meeting at the mall. That was the first time that Jamie had taken me over, and she promptly beat the crap out of all three of them. I still cringe to think what would have happened if Allison hadn't shown up.
Mei
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