Game five on Monday was an early affair--it started at 5 pm. I went to class, did some homework, so I’d be all set to go watch it with Vinnie.

I told Callie what had happened last night. "You go, girl!" she hooted. No shrinking violet she. I just laughed.

I actually thought I’d wake up on Monday with some regrets. I didn’t. I was perfectly fine with it. I knew Vinnie and I had to talk, but I figured we’d be able to after the game, since it was such an early start.

I got to the dining hall early, at about four-thirty. Vinnie walked in right behind me so we ate together. I told him I had to stop at my room first and I’d meet him up in his.

When I got there, I had a nice peach-colored bra for him. He cracked up laughing. "Well, you’ve been such a good sport about all of this, it’s definitely my turn." He took off his shirt--woo woo!--and I helped him get the bra on. Then I showed him two rolled-up nylons.

"I thought the panty hose came later," he said.

"It does. These are your falsies," I giggled--and stuffed the nylons into the cups of the bra.

"Hey, I don’t remember that stuffing the bra was part of the deal!"

"Too bad," I laughed. "Now put your shirt back on. The chest hair spoils the whole effect."

"Fine. I still don’t think I should have to have the thing stuffed. Anyhow, aren’t you forgetting something?" I just looked at him. "This is cumulative--you’re supposed to be down to your panties still."

"True," I laughed. I quickly got out of my clothes. I was getting way too comfortable with this.

He tried to cuddle me, but the nylons in the bra were getting in the way. "OK, I made my point," I said. "You can un-stuff the bra." He gladly did.

That’s when I showed him a little trick about bras. Now, guys don’t know this one usually, unless they’ve worn an unstuffed bra--because girls always complain about how uncomfortable bras are. And that’s true to a point. The straps are uncomfortable digging into your shoulders. And the underside straps dig in to the underside of your boobs. They can be a pain in the ass.

But the material of the cups isn’t uncomfortable at all. In fact, it can be the exact opposite, especially if it’s rubbed just the right way. And I knew what way to rub it. I was curled up next to Vinnie, his arm around me, when I did it. I reached out for his chest and rubbed at it, causing the bra to rub up against his nipple.

He groaned!

"Oh, God, don’t do that," he said.

"Why not?" I said with a little smirk.

"Because the game is about to start. And you’re not wearing anything above your waist, so I could easily retaliate. Do you want to get into a nipple fondling contest right as the game is going to start?"

"I suppose not," I sighed. "Then again, it’s an early game. Should be over at a reasonable time."

"Yes, it should," he grinned.

Boy, were we wrong.

The Sox took a quick 2-0 lead in the first inning off of Mussina, with Ortiz, again, driving in one of the runs. The bad part was that they left the bases loaded. Bernie Williams hit a home off of Pedro in the second to cut the lead to 2-1. Then, a few innings of nothing. It stayed 2-1 until the sixth. Then, the Yankees got to Pedro. They scored three runs in the top of the sixth courtesy of a bases-loaded double by Jeter. I groaned.

"It’s all over now," Vinnie gloated.

"You know what your guy Yogi says, it ain’t over till it’s over," I countered.

"We’ll see."

I was right, though it took until the eighth. In the seventh, the Yankees brought in Tom Gordon, who had been ineffective throughout the playoffs. He got out of the seventh, but when he came back out on the field for the eighth I turned to Vinnie and said, "Yes! They’re keeping Gordon in!"

Vinnie tried to dismiss it, but the first batter Gordon faced in the eighth was the unstoppable David Ortiz. Boom--home run, just like that. Cut the lead to 4-3.

Now Vinnie was agreeing with me. As Millar worked a walk, Roberts ran for him, and Trot Nixon blasted a single sending Roberts to third, Vinnie started yelling at the TV. "Jesus, get Gordon out of there!"

They did, but it was too late. Rivera came in, and he got Varitek to fly out, but it was deep enough to score the speedy Roberts from third. Tie game.

"Damn!" Vinnie yelped.

After that, it was just tension. The ninth ended still 4-4 and we went into extra innings. I forgot I was practically naked and I think Vinnie forgot what he was wearing. Inning after inning went by. Each team had baserunners but couldn’t get any runs home. Both teams started emptying their bullpens out. The Sox went with Wakefield, who was pitching to Jason Varitek who normally doesn’t catch Wakefield. Wakefield’s knuckleball was absolutely on fire, and Varitek had three passed balls--but the Yankees still couldn’t score.

In the bottom of the fourteenth, Johnny Damon came up with one out and walked. They got Cabrera, but then they walked Manny, sending Damon to second. That was the key--because it brought Ortiz back up.

"Oh, shit," Vinnie moaned.

He was right. Ortiz hit a game-winning single.

I was so drained I couldn’t be ecstatic, but I was damn happy. After a wee bit of tired gloating, I left Vinnie’s room. It was after eleven o’clock. The game had started at five!

Once I got back into my room, I realized we hadn’t talked. We also hadn’t fooled around at all. The game had gone on too long. I was happy about the Red Sox--but unsettled otherwise.

Ah, well. Game six was tomorrow. And I had some panties for Vinnie to wear!