Cal Colleen
- 5 years ago
- 28
- 0
Catching Colleen Ch. 01 Rounding Third and Heading for Home
It was my last game. The wear and tear on my knees caused sharp, nagging pain, and my doctor said stop or live the rest of my life as a cripple. I thought of the ache in my arm, how hard it got to lift that arm as the season and seasons went on–and how I somehow managed to make good throws anyway. I took foul tips into the forearm, the thighs, a hand, almost every game. Torment. But even then it was not an easy decision to stop. I loved that game.
But it was always a game, just a game. I never thought it was important to society or democracy. I saved some money, invested conservatively on good advice and built up some savings. I made a living–a lot compared to plumbers and teachers and carpenters–but that wasn’t it for me. I loved that game. Kinsella called it the thrill of the grass, that feeling of expectancy and nature and playing a game on green grass and dirt. For me it was the grit of the dirt. I got dirty catching. I got it in my mouth, the creases of my elbows, the angle of my jaw, and sometimes between my teeth. I got it in scrapes on my elbows and hands and knees. When I was 15 and pimply I almost quit because of the mask and the sand and my skin. Then I’d throw a stealer out at second, or call the right pitch to get a strike out, or block someone who thought he could make home, or I’d even make an error. There is nothing like it: Baseball. Great.
In the last of the third some guy was yelling at me from just where the backstop ends, near the home dugout. One was out. A pitch came outside, not where I’d called for it, with no one on. (Trouble with your release point, eh Pitch?) The batter swung, nipping the ball almost straight back into me, hitting my mask and caroming about 12 feet into the air, heading for the corner of the backstop. I threw off my mask, treating it like a real foul pop up (because it is since it didn’t go to my hands, first) and dove to catch the ball but it hit the brick just as I got to it. I had it, but just a little late on the rebound, and I heard some guffaws and then claps. I came up laughing with the ball and Art signalled safe because it was a foul ball when it hit the brick.
‘Fuckin’ asshole, you’ve sucked your whole career, Kowalsh!’ I heard. ‘It’s not a popup when it hits off you, Idiot.’ How do you turn off your hearing? I always heard what was yelled. And I remembered a lot of those constructive comments. This one being incorrect (if I’d caught it the guy would have been out), I did not disabuse him since I’d missed the catch. Mostly I looked away, but this time I looked over. It was a guy maybe 38, my age, with a 10 year old boy on one side and a nice-looking, dark-haired woman on the other. She looked at me with a funny expression, embarrassed, acting like she hoped I hadn’t heard. Her husband had his lower lip sticking out and a beer in his hand.
I pulled the ball out of my mitt and started to toss it to the ball boy, but then I held up. I looked at the guy’s kid, dark-haired like his mother, thin, looking a little like he wished his pop would shut up. I turned to the kid and jogged two or three steps to get to the edge of the backstop net. I looked up at the kid.
‘Here, kid,’ I said as I reached around the backstop and tossed him the ball. I looked at his dad as the kid caught the ball. ‘Welcome.’ I smiled at the guy and ran back to home.
The ump was Art Nichols and he handed me my mask. I shook my head. ‘I ain’t gonna miss that, you know?’ I said. He smiled and nodded, said, ‘Know what you mean. It was a good try. Almost got him. I hate to see you go, Serge.’ He and I went way back, he’d called some of my games in the minors. I’d had a drink with him once or twice, heard about his kids and ex-wife. He put his hand on my shoulder as I crouched for the next pitch, an unusual thing for an ump.
I didn’t notice a direct response from the guy in the stands, but he was quieter after that. I didn’t notice any more criticism of me. I kinda wish he’d yelled some more. His wife was attractive. Man, I like women: pretty, kind of pretty, and nearly pretty.
And that’s all of them.
I went 2 for 4 in losing and called it a game, a season, and a career. I had a lifetime average of .252, never hit over 270 or under 241. I went two years with only 18 passed balls, which got me into the record books. I led the league in throw outs at second some years, at third for several others, and made the all star team twice. Not bad for a sore arm pedestrian. I hit a few homers, though not enough to raise many eyebrows. I usually batted around seventh, once second but that team was not so good. Never made it to the Series. First in division one year, within a few outs of the league pennant. I knocked around different teams. I’d put on a little weight over the last few years. 38 is old, especially for a catcher. Crouching was comfortable, standing was comfortable, but going from one to the other was creaky, very creaky. And my arm hurt.
I don’t think I ever threw a ball after February that my arm didn’t hurt. I made every dugout smell of mint from the BenGay and anything else that might take the pain down. Aspirin, naproxen sodium, acetaminophen, ibuprofen, whatever. Occasionally a cortisone shot in the shoulder. Nothing illegal for me, though. I watched McMann go from slim to simian and that was not my style. No way, as Trip would have said back in the day.
Catching just hurt, that was part of the game, and it hurt from the time I lifted my arm the second week of camp until my knees throbbed in September. I wished I was one of those easy throwers who don’t hurt, but I never was. It was pain that got in the way of perfection, all part of a great thing. I don’t think baseball is just fun: I think it’s why we should live, it’s so fun. Okay, I know, that doesn’t go with the part about it’s only a game. If you want consistent philosophy you should turn to Kierkegaard or Kant, not Kowalsh. It works for me, and I don’t care about the inconsistency.
I didn’t go to college before I went to the minors. I went when I had time: between seasons, in the evenings, and one minor league season in mornings. Baseball was life because it paid my way. It cost me, too, but any career costs. Baseball hurt and I loved it. I guess lots of careers are like that. Lawyers have to work after hours and policemen work early and overnight. Nurses too. Doctors. Plumbers have to get the job done when it needs doing. Baseball wasn’t so bad. Yeah, my arm hurt. And I probably have a torn rotator cuff or bone spurs in my elbow. No pain, no value added, as economists say.
I picked up a degree in American literature along the way. I played a lot in the Carolina League off and on and East Carolina U. had an off campus program that minimized my required time on campus. I joined in, and it took me close to a decade but I got the bachelor’s degree. I took lots of courses early on with Marines from Camp Lejeune, for whom the program was actually designed. I could read, I had time on the buses and planes, in the motels at odd hours, and I could write. Study was my yoga. I liked some poets, but I particularly liked the American novels of the 1950s and 1960s–Styron was my favorite. I read his books between Wilmington and Winston-Salem and every other place in the Carolina League. (I remember a game between the Blue Rocks and the Mudcats and…) Oh, I studied between some of the cities in the American League, too.
His books were more than people thought, more than some of my teachers thought. I stand by ‘The Confessions of Nat Turner,’ which I think got twisted in petulant racial politics and was tortured for no reason relating to author or book. I thought it showed the humanity and deprecation of racial animosity, Nat was smart and fully human–a characteristic white people needed to admit in 1960s America.
But ‘Sophie’s Choice’ was uneven, ultimately, Stingo was not common or normal or regular. Weird in a book about wei
rder ones–that was Sophie’s Stingo. Sophie went crazy because she had to choose one of her children to live, Stingo seemed desperate to have a girlfriend, even a paranoid, schizophrenic one. Nat Turner just wanted to love like a man could, regardless of race. That was powerful, that was right, and that was human.
The ones who should have embraced Styron turned on him, he wrote the first politically incorrect novel about Nat, he said. So ultimately I think Styron will be pushed aside by political correctness and his tactic of going after our greatest prejudices, the greatest writer America produced in the last half of the 20th century lost because we can’t talk without hating white people or loving black. Confessions is about the way we are, black or white. ‘Sophie’ is about evil’s ability to overwhelm by corrupting all that is best in humanity. Styron was so good. So close. Irony: instead we read Irving.
We didn’t talk much lit in the locker rooms. Others chewed some quid, whatever that noxious and obnoxious concoction of tobacco and bubble gum was. Some guys were doing steroids or hgh, not openly when I was around. But there was not much deep talk. Senseless banter and adolescent joking were the norm. I never found anyone who read Styron. Most didn’t know who he was. As I grew older and they younger they left me alone, mostly. I had no enemies, it was just I was the old guy who’d been to college. Most didn’t read for enjoyment, anyway. In the minors they’d sleep on the bus or stare out the windows. A few read newspapers. Once the Ipods and stuff came around they listened to music with earphones. They seemed to avoid thinking about things. They self-distracted. ‘Set This House on Fire’ never came up. I wished I’d found one Crash Davis (the ‘Bull Durham’ movie character–not the real guy). There must be some. But Styron was only mine, minors and majors.
I had a pitcher who went to college and some infielders over the years, more as the seasons passed. None of them said they learned much. I was disappointed, and I wondered if it meant anything. My manager at St. Louis had a law degree, but I was only there one season. It was before my degree, after I’d started classes in North Carolina, but we never talked about it. I missed classes and due dates in September. Never in October, too bad for me. I missed other things because of the game.
I got married when I was a rookie major leaguer, but there were too many trips back to the minors, too many planes to far away, and too little home. It was hard, and our relationship suffered as she studied law and I picked up a class here and there. We finally called it quits over the phone.
She finished her law degree just after the divorce, and I did not mind paying for it because she demanded nothing of the settlement and I was finally making a decent salary. She thought the whole thing was mournful, and so it was. She was good. She just wanted to finish her degree and earn her own living. She found work in New York, before things went to pieces for her. I liked Carol. Loved her, and never really got over her. I liked her mom and dad, too.
We all leave things behind, I guess, and I left her when she left me. It’s no life for families, not really, in baseball majors or minors. Maybe if I’d been a star… Some of the guys were married, divorced, remarried, or confirmed bachelors. Long bus rides destroy feelings in the minors. Groupies and planes mess up relations in the majors. Baseball is just bad for marriage. She probably wanted it behind her, me behind her, our marriage behind her, until things became tragic.
So I called it a career. I was dirty and the dirt was all over. In the creases of my right hand, in the inside creases of my elbows, my neck, my face. My arm needed rehab. 13,000 in the stands. My knees just wanted to stay straight, and suddenly I didn’t have to run or wish I were running or ice a shoulder or arm. I didn’t have to worry. I had a pension that would tide me over until I had something, and my savings. I was not rich in the modern sense but I was in the practical one. I had solid investments and a good bank account. I could last maybe the rest of my life if I was frugal.
I picked up the mask and shook hands with my team and suffered their congratulations, those who knew I was through. The coaches said things, and I nodded. I appreciated but it was just a career, mediocre and common and just a little longer than some. To me, just another game done. Dirty, hot, dry, sore, a loss. I thought of the kid I gave the ball, eyes happy at the gift and the rarity, I guess. I thought of his dad so mean and vocal, his mom more sympathetic or at least seeing the rudeness and wishing it were gone. My last game.
‘It was a good game,’ Joe said. Joe was my manager for the last few years. He would probably be gone soon, after another losing season, but he would surface safe and sound. No one expected him to take a team to the Series, although I am sure they hoped. But he was a journeyman coach, moving from rebuilding team to slumping team as they searched for winners. Joe knew baseball and talent, but he never seemed to get enough of the latter to make a run. He was a cheaper alternative. A good guy, but a sub-500 baseball coach. Until you find someone better, Joe’s the man. Joe and I had a lot in common: no one expected us to be there in late October, and they were right. ‘Yeah, a good game,’ I said. I held his hand longer than the usual, and he was looking at me. I guess he wanted to know what was next for me.
‘I think I’ll take some time. Fish. Hike. I don’t really have anybody, not anymore…’ I said, drifting in my stream of consciousness. Joe knew about Carol. I didn’t keep it secret even if I didn’t blab. He was nodding, nodding with his eyes down, then looking me in the eye.
‘You wanna coach?’ he said, as if there were options. I didn’t think there were options, but for this conversation I’d pretend.
‘Sure,’ I pretended aloud. ‘Maybe if something comes up?’ I said. Joe nodded, nodded longer than usual for this sort of thing.
He said, ‘Okay, I’ll see what’s around.’ And we let go hands. No commitments. Another long career fading out.
There was no Carol to go home to, not for some years, so I didn’t hurry from the locker room. But I rarely hurried. Lots of people get away from their careers. I guess it’s that they didn’t get elected or that they did. They didn’t write the great novel, become superintendent of schools, or head librarian. They just go by, thinking they were competent, and for the most part, they were. Nothing to be ashamed of. They don’t harken back to the start when they had hope and maybe promise, promise of more. Some failures, some compromises, some disappointments along the way and they felt mediocre. They were okay. Just okay, wishing there were a but. But okay was okay. Even Styron had to accept that others supplanted him. I was more or less content with it. Well, not really.
I was cleaned and shaven and had my stuff in a big duffel. I was walking out the tunnel of the stadium, alone, a bit later than the others. I was often last. I liked it. After all, I liked reading long novels and I think that’s a sign. The tunnel was poorly lit, but lit, and there was a street light at the end. The gate was open, and there was a stadium guy waiting for me so he could close up. It was symbolic, a rebirth–every time I left late, and this would be the last late.
‘Last time for me, Binx,’ I said. The duffel was slung over my shoulder. Binx was older, black, grey, and he needed dentures, but he was always there and that says something about common people, too. We are there, usually on time for work, usually good enough.
He grinned in the wan light. ‘Yeah, you gonna miss it?’ he asked. I smiled and shifted my bag from right to left hand and held out my palm. ‘Already do,’ I said, smiling back. He grabbed my hand. ‘Gonna miss ya,’ he said.
‘Thanks. Better go.’ We nodded at each other and I passed through the gate, the e
nd of the tunnel.
A woman’s voice to my left said, ‘Serge? Mr. Kowalsh?’ It stopped me in my tracks. Carol? I stared down at the pavement a moment. Close but wrong voice. Too bad. It was a dark-haired woman who looked familiar, but not close, I’d seen her, but I’d seen gazillions in every stadium and half the bars in America, so I couldn’t place her. She was small, white, black-haired, about my age or a little younger. Maybe 35. I stopped and looked at her.
‘Ma’am?’ I said. ‘Yes? Do I know you?’
‘You gave a ball to my boy today. After my husband cussed at you,’ she said. Hesitation.
‘Yeah, hey,’ I said.
‘My husband…he drinks…’ she said.
‘Me, too,’ I said.
She seemed to shake it off. ‘You made his day. Victor’s, I mean, my boy. He couldn’t stop talking about how you made a point of giving him the ball.’ She was not beautiful. Not ugly. Just a normal wife with a kid who somehow got good seats at a game once a year–when the local team was out of it and winning or losing didn’t seem to matter anymore.
‘His name is Victor?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ she said. She paused, seemed to have more to say.
‘Is that why you’re here? Because I gave a kid a ball?’
‘Well, we’re spending the night right across the highway. It was the names, the coincidence of it. My husband is asleep in our room, and you were kind. I wanted away for a few minutes, and I saw the players coming out of here. It was…generous of you, considering,’ she said. She alluded to her husband a lot, as if she were apologizing without saying sorry every other word.
‘The names?’ I asked.
‘Your name is Serge. And Victor Serge was a revolutionary I studied in school,’ she said.
‘Ah, I get it. He wrote some novels. I’ve never read anything by Serge,’ I said, ‘But maybe I will now. Serge is really short for Sergei, you know.’
She nodded. ‘I know. I just wanted to say thanks. I have to go. We leave in the morning to go home. We just came in for the weekend and we drive back to Dayton tomorrow. Vic couldn’t stop about the ball.’
I smiled at the uncommonness of this meeting. ‘He’s welcome. And I hope your husband forgives me my career, too.’
‘I was so embarrassed he said that. He gets mean sometimes. He doesn’t see people like you, baseball players or entertainers or famous people, like real guys, you know? You understand you’re not real to him? You’re only one thing in his mind. He doesn’t feel…real, equal. He puts people down where it’s safe for him.’
I did understand. It happened a lot, and not just to me. To every player and umpire and referee and athlete who ever collected an audience. It was always open season on people performing. Especially playing a game everyone played at 7.
‘It’s okay. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t matter or didn’t hurt or anything. But thanks for saying it. Um, who are you? Victor’s mom doesn’t sound right.’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ she said holding out her hand. She was not pretty, a little round, a little cute, a little short and normal. A mom. A fan, in a lukewarm sense. ‘Thanks for being better than you had to be,’ she said shaking my hand, and I thought for a second she meant my ball playing. She collected her hand, that I held a little longer than necessary. Then she turned and started walking away.
‘Uh, Mrs. Victor’s mom?’ I asked. She stopped and turned, maybe twenty feet away.
I said, ‘Tell the kid his dad loves him. He wants his kid to respect him, in his way.’
‘I will. Thanks, Mr. Kowalsh. You always hustled, my husband said. I think he is not so bad as you saw today. I hope you believe that.’
‘You’ve given me some hope, Ma’am,’ I said. She left in her direction.
I wished I knew who she was, but there you go. There she went. One of many women I’d met who were more than the sum, who I’d never know better, who were committed or alienated or disillusioned or beyond me in some way. She had class, manners, and savvy. It was too bad about her husband. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.
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It had been a long day and my first day in London with my new colleague Roger, we had spent the day running around London seeing client after client. The plan was to stay in London as our last two clients would only see us late at night so it was a hotel for us both, however they both cancelled at the last minute and Roger suggested we go and stay at his place. He said his wife would be happy to have us and we set off for his place. He tried to call her from the car but got no answer but it...
After I had caught my sexy sister in-law having sex with her own brother and then when it came out that my brother is a lousing lover and I confided to Tina that my wife is nothing more then a ice berg, and with us finding love in each others arms. We just couldn't stay away from each other. I got one of those prepaid cell phones for Tina so she could call and if my wife happened to answer she could pretend to be someone else. I think Tina and me have been with each other 2 to 3 times a week...
When I woke up, I wrapped my arms around her stomach and laid my head on her neck, inhaling a faint perfume and the smell of her clean skin. I kissed her neck and nipped her with my lips and teeth. I felt her body stiffen in delight, so I continued more of the same with the other side of her neck, blowing lightly into her ear, sucking her earlobe. She arched her back in pleasure, so I slipped my hands beneath her tank top and slide then up and down her sides getting closer and closer to her...
She took off for the bedroom and stood next to the bed. "GET THE FUCK ON THAT BED NOW!" she ponited at the bed and there was a burning excitement in her eyes. I jumped up on the bed and she quickly followed and straddled me. She slowly eased herself down on my cock until she was all the way in and i could feel her pussy against my balls. She stated to bounce up and down on it riding it like a fuckin bull rider. She picked up speed and i began to thrust upward every time she would come down. The...
I still find it a bit strange that I get turned on by watch my girlfriend having sex with someone else, she is the most beautiful woman I have ever met with a sexy figure and I love her whole heartedly and never felt like this before. We have been swinging for about 3 years now and like anyone else have had some great times, coupled with one or two we would rather forget?I now find myself having two fantasies’ about catching her with someone else, the first go like this;It a Friday night and we...
Catching up with the biggest cock. I have recently written with an account from my diary about the biggest cock that I’ve ever seen and someone saw the experience and wanted to know more as I had said that I met him a few times. So, I can bring that right up to date now because I have recently been to see him again. But let me go back again to the time when it was all happening……After that first day I have to confess that I couldn’t get that gorgeous long cock out of my mind. Having been very...
Catching my Parents Our home was quite large for its time. It was a ranch house of extreme length. Our family was in the construction field so the design of the home had incorporated a whole group of ideas. Being the practical man that my father was he designed the home to be divided into a duplex in the future when all the k**s left. I was the oldest so my bedroom was segregated to the opposite end of the home than in the main bedroom areas. It was a fairly early evening, maybe 10 o’clock...
Catching My Mother-in-lawMy mother-in-law is not the prettiest woman in the world, but to me she is the most beautiful woman I have loved. Her name is Lynn and she is thirty nine years of age. She has straight Brown hair, Brown eyes and beautiful full lips. “Mom” also has the prettiest smile I have ever seen.Her sight, her nice smell and the feeling of her next to perfect breasts pressing against me when we hugged or when she kissed me excited me ever since I met and married her daughter, we...
********************************************************************************DISCLAIMER: This is one of my favsALL CREDIT GOES TO CHASSEUR11 of www.literotica.com/stories..see thier page for more creative and worth-the-read storiesciao********************************************************************************Catching the Wife Vol. 02bychasseur11©I woke up late the next morning from what little sleep I did get. It was a rough night being very restless. Had a hard time trying to get what...
This is a true incident happened in my teenage, I was living in a small village in Kerala, from childhood I was seeing sex by chicken, cow, got, etc, this made a lot of curiosity… and one day I happened to see the hairy pussy of one beautiful lady in my neighborhood, little did I realize she was showing that to me and inviting me for something……. All the neighbor ladies take bath in stream which flows through the village, which had lot of bushes and plants on both the sides. I was so much...
My first story:Catching sister with dildoArianna! Come here! I came down the stairs wearing a white blouse and black and red boy-shorts. Ari, I got Amanda a little something for her 18th birthday. Dont tell okay. Uh huh. I opened the box to find a blue dildo. Really mom? Well, I thought she might want one. Will you give it to her? but you just told not to tell her! just go! I run upstairs with the box. Amanda! I knock on her door a few times. no answer. I walk in hearing what seemed like soft...
I Caught Her Masturbating!I had an ex-girlfriend, Elise, who claimed to have never masturbated. She said she didn’t believe a real “Lady” should EVER masturbate! As a guy, totally into watching women get themselves off, this was disappointing; VERY disappointing. I decided to try to test Elise, to see if she was telling the truth.Elise was a cute little package, standing about 5'1". She slept in thin nighties and lacy lingerie. Our first night together, it seemed like she was presenting herself...
Holly Grandal had been my dream girl since I was in the fifth grade. She was the smartest girl in the class, and I was the smartest boy. We used to be the last two standing in any of the class spelling bees or multiplication table contests. When the Iowa Test of Basic Skills was administered in the fifth through eighth grades, Holly and I had the two highest scores in our school each and every year. We took turns in first and second place, with her at the top in fifth and seventh grades, and...
As you open the door you feel the warmth cling to your skin. You leave the safety of your air conditioned room behind and close the door. Making your way through the hallway towards the elevator you come across a man going the opposite way. Passing each other you hear his cadence change and suddenly become more aware, as if he’s looking back, staring at your behind. “Maybe I should’ve wrapped the towel around me,” you say to yourself. “Ah well.” Holding the book that you’re hoping to finish in...
VoyeurIt was Friday after work, just enjoying happy hour with the usual gang of friends. Drinking beer and telling stories, it was one of those places where everyone knows everyone. All of a sudden I felt a hard nudge on my shoulder, turning around I see Lynn smiling at me, "Hey You." "Hey You, long time no see." I reply. Lynn is a girl from the neighborhood I grew up in, a few years younger than me, but as kids we all hung out and played together. We took a few minutes to catch up and I...
After not only seeing but getting a video of my sister in-law Tina fucking her own brother behind my brother's back I wondered all night how I was going to handle it. Do I show my brother the video and rip his marriage apart or do I some how get Tina away from her brother but she wouldn't be doing that with her brother I believe if their marriage didn't have problems. Then on the other hand I could use the video to get in Tina's pants which from what I seen are a million times hotter then my...
So this story begins with me looking at my facebook page and trying to get back in touch with people i have been neglecting. One such person would be my cousin gwen well she is not really my cousin she was adopted.She was 2 years younger than me and secretly very knowledgeable and bloomed very early. She had perfect size boobs they were very very inviting. We bad a close relationship growing up i think because both of us were shy and could confide things to each other and not have to worry...
My friend Haley and I have been friends since we were little kids and our parents trust us together as just friends and nothing more. We share all of our experiences together and with us both being 16, and neighbors, most of the stories we shared were sexual. We led our parents on to believe we were naïve about sex and any relating matter which was to our benefit. Just last year we both discovered that the other one masturbated because we both started doing it around the same time. This was...
So I've moved to another golf course community and finally found a player but he doesn't play golf. I noticed a man mid 60s looking around before walking into the mangroves on the golf course. He walked in empty handed and walked out empty handed. I quickly ran out and caught him walking away and I kept a far distance from afar. I watched him walk into a building and take the elevator. I was able to see him walking again on the 4th floor and walk in his from door. I headed in and thought I'd...
Tuesday 22 February 2011. Twelve fifty-five pm. That was when a devastating earthquake hit my home town of Christchurch, New Zealand, after which nothing in this city will ever be the same again. Unbeknown to me at the time, that same moment was also to trigger events after which, in a much happier way, nothing in my life can be the same again either. Not ever. I was one of the many city council and other public service staff who were taken from their normal work and pitched into a myriad of...
LesbianEncounter 1, the cafe.I drove into the parking lot of a local coffee shop to get a coffee to help my head stop spinning from the alcohol the night before. There was a few people standing in front of me while I waited in line and only a few sitting around reading the newspaper and talking. I couldn't stop thinking about a girl last night at the bar.Before I knew it, it was my turn to order my coffee, the lady at the register said good morning and asked what I would like today. I told her 1...
Mark was in High School and would be on school holidays in a few more weeks.One Friday evening, I had to work late. I had been pursuing a new account for the past few months. And I was hoping to finalise the deal over dinner with the client. Normally, I kept Friday evenings free for my son. It was a long-standing tradition with us. We always did something special on weekends. So it was a touch of guilt that I called up Mark to cancel our evening plans. I told him that I would be late, and that...
Still reliving the night before and what had happened between the three of us, but today would be different i had invited my 2 cousins from my dads side to the house before everything had happened. Becky had also invited her best friend JJ to the house as well. Last but not least Gwen invited her sister Lizzie down to the house as well. It seems marriage had not been nice to any of us except for Ann, the older of my two cousins that were coming. Joyce and Lizzie were divorced and JJ had never...
When we agreed to take in Katie for a few weeks before she started college, I cleaned out my work shed. We sometimes used it as a guesthouse, but, in between stays, it was my personal workspace and temple of solitude. It had electricity, running water and heat. It was small but comfy. I took out my tools, I brought my laptop into the house, I removed two half completed novels, three porn magazines and my personal papers. I left the spy cam hooked up.I'd installed the cam and a silent alarm a...
My name is Brittany and I am thirty six years old. I live in an apartment with my daughter Kim who just turned s*******n. We moved in shortly after my husband left me for another woman and as much as I feared him leaving would have an effect on Kim she really didn't seem to care. I work two jobs to pay the bills so most of the time Kim is at home alone after school but if there is one person I can completely one hundred percent trust its Kim. She has always gotten good grades and is never in...
One day as I was driving around on the other side of town, I decided to pay a lady friend of mine a surprise visit. Sandy was a 40 year old single Mom and lived with her 18 year old daughter named Hannah. I had known them for many years, but had not seen them in several months. As I knocked on the door, it unexpectedly swang open. This had me concerned, so I stepped inside to see if they were okay and shut the door behind me. Hello? Is anyone home?, I loudly asked. As I walked down the hallway,...
Chapter 04: Catches Her AttentionOver the centuries I have seen many things; turn of one century, a depression, two world wars, many other wars, rights activists, freedoms won, new technologies daily and the turn of another century. Yet during all of these times I have found that I have grown lonely and instead I had filled my time learning about all the world had to give me. During the many years I have traveled around the world and came across many other vampires with so very many different...
I had just started my sophomore year in high school when Marco and herfamily moved into the house across the street from me. They had emigratedfrom France. It was just Marco, her Mom & Dad and her tall, beautifulsister Angela.Marco and I became instant friends. Like me, she was a sophomore and shewas in my toughest class, Algebra. At least, it was tough for me...easyfor her.Being from France, her toughest class was American History. We had thatclass together too. We rode the bus to and from...
Chapter 1 Have your parents ever caught you having sex? Oh, I've had friends tell me their stories, one guy about his mom walking in on him masturbating, another friend who had his girlfriend's mother catch them, then stayed and had him begin taking care of her as well. That's the wildest one I've heard, well, except for my own. Actually, it's a bit different ... I caught Mom and Dad at it. It happened when I was twenty-one and a senior in college. My parents had rented a ski lodge for...
Shay Roberts was preparing breakfast for her family. While she was checking the toast her hubby had went out to check the mail. He returned and had not said a word since. The kids ate and were out the door on the way to school, she sat at the table quietly watching her husband Jon, finish his coffee. He got up from the table grabbed his briefcase and left without saying a word. Shay was stunned, why would he act like that she had not done anything to cause him to ignore her such as that. Shay...
Students in his science class sat at two person tables, and coincidentally Rachel and Michael sat next to each other. He had put up a YouTube video on the white board regarding photosynthesis and as he looked over at the two students, he noticed . . . even with the lights out, that Rachel was almost beet red with embarrassment. Michael had a big smile on his face as he was pretending to look at the video. Rachel on the other hand almost looked embarrassed and at...
This was supposed to be a ‘A’rated movie lasting about for 2 hour. The first half movie started. There was just starting to be some action in the movie when movement caught the corner of my eye. I looked to my left and there were two women, that I guessed they were in their forties, looking where to sit and one of them asked me if they had missed anything yet. I sort of embarrassedly said no and they sat down two rows in front of me. One woman was taller and sort of a medium build and the...
But looks can be deceiving. At that moment, my fingers drowning in my hot cunt as I furiously rubbed my clit, I was anything but shy. It was 11:47 at night, and I was getting off to the sounds of my stepfather giving my mother a good fucking. The head board was smacking against the wall rhythmically, and I could hear the deliciously taboo moans of my whore mother. My stepdad's deep grunts turned me on even more; my pussy was sopping wet, and I was so close to orgasm. I reached up with one...
We got a babysitter for the night because of our little guy Jacob that is 5 years old and we haven’t had a night out in a long time. Well we came home to find our substitute sitter, Mrs. Lawson is out of town and this one came highly recommended so we hired her. She’s a sophomore in college and so we thought why not, she had plenty of references and believe me Jasmine checked them all out. When we came home Mary Beth had found the liquor cabinet and opened it somehow because it locks and had...