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From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <RevCottonMather@excite.able.boy.com>
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 15 Nov 2001 14:42:38 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} rp Hard Promise, Ch. 1-3/14 (mf rom) by Rev. Cotton Mather
Date: Thu, 15 Nov 2001 16:10:03 -0500
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
Welcome to the Church of The Right Reverend Cotton Mather.  This story
is the sole property of the author, and may not be copied or
downloaded
for the intent of profit.  Permission is freely given for anyone to
download or copy for their personal pleasure or use, as long as there 
is no intent to charge money or barter for the privilege of acquiring
this material.

(Copyright 2001, Rev. Cotton Mather)
------------------------------------------------------------------------



HARD PROMISE
Rev. Cotton Mather



- 1 -

It seemed like such a good idea at the time.  Our anniversary was 
coming up in a few weeks, and I had found a great deal on a vacation
to Bermuda that I knew my wife would really love.

You see, six years ago, for her high school graduation, her parents 
gave her a trip to Bermuda.  She traveled with three of herhigh-school
buddies, and it was one of the highlights of her life, she says.  
Now, for our second anniversary, I was going to surprise her with 
another trip to her dream destination, a place she calls the most 
romantic place on earth.

It's a lot easier, according to some of our friends who have already 
started having their children, to just pick up and go when you aren't 
tied down with familial obligations.  I guess that's true, because the
deals I see for people who can travel on short notice to vacation
spots are very good, indeed.  And this deal was better than even
those, provided we leave in two days.

Naturally, I couldn't reach her by telephone, so I left work early to 
try to catch her before she got too busy.  She usually got home from 
work around 4:00, relaxed for awhile until she knew that I would be on
my way home, then start to make dinner for the two of us.  We would 
eat around 6:00, and she would run out the door right after dinner, 
leaving me to clean up the dishes.  She's studying at night to be a 
chef, so our dinners tended to be on the elaborate side.  My wife 
loves to cook, and she considers it her sacred duty to make sure 
that everything she prepares is done just right.  The result?  I've 
gained 10 pounds since our marriage.  My work is sedentary, shuffling 
paper at a big insurance company, and I try to exercise when I can, 
but my battle of the bulge is a difficult one.  I still tend to eat 
like I'm still playing football, as I did in high school, and our 
large dinners and changed lifestyle have conspired to change my 
profile.  I do try to work it off a few times a week doing horizontal
aerobic exercises, if you know what I mean, and my little sweetheart 
is always very cooperative, and even enthusiastic.  And I'll tell 
you, her efforts in the sack must give her an even greater workout, 
since she's exactly the same size now that she was when she was 
leading the cheers for good old North High.
	



It was her cheerleading, actually, that first made me notice her.  
I loved seeing her in those tight letter sweaters and short skirts, 
shaking and jumping all over the football field.

I was a junior playing on the football team, and I loved watching all 
the cheerleaders.  I had a lot of trouble concentrating on the game 
when I got to watching their backsides on the sidelines.  Every time 
one of them would jump up in the air, I would catch a glimpse of 
white ruffled panties.  Drove me crazy, they did.  Of course, all 
the cheerleaders were gorgeous and athletic, and a common conversation
among my fellow players when we were at practice or on the bench 
during a game was to rank the cheerleaders (and all other good-looking
girls at school, of course) in the order in which we would like to bop
them.  All during the season we would revise our lists, taking into 
account changing tastes, how a particular girl dressed on that 
particular day, or whatever rumor about a girl's reputation might be 
running through the school.  We based our rankings on such things as
"boob-alicious-ness", how a girl used a straw or ate a banana, how 
easy we thought she might be, if we thought a girl might be a screamer
or a moaner, her reputation in the school at large as well as in the 
locker room, or any of a dozen other crude evaluation criteria.  Over 
the course of the football season my list changed according to my 
mood: sometimes it was Lisa, a varsity cheerleader who was a junior 
and arguably the hottest girl in the school, who was at the top of my 
list; sometimes it was Micki, a petite freshman with big, pouting 
lips who, it was rumored, was trying to earn her way onto the varsity
cheerleading squad by bedding any member of any varsity sports team 
in school; sometimes it was Nicole, a senior who was on the yearbook 
staff and had been a member of the student council since her freshman 
year who, according to my buddies in the locker room, gave her dates
exquisite hand jobs on the third date - and no more, ever; but always,
among the top 3 on my list, was Melissa, a sophomore cheerleader.  No 
"bad girl" rumors ever surrounded her, no innuendoes about her sexual
prowess (or lack thereof), nothing but a general admiration for her
All-American good looks and her quiet pursuit of excellence in all 
she attempted.

So there we all were, week after week, struggling through a mediocre 
season on the football field, celebrating wins and consoling ourselves
on our losses in the same manner by converging as a group at 
Fabrice's, a local pizza parlor that catered to the high school crowd.

So there is where we all went after the game.  We would all be hanging
out at the local pizza joint, the team and its hangers-on around one 
group of tables, the cheerleading squads around another, and a whole 
bunch of other students who had gone to the game all around us.  And 
there Melissa would be, sitting with her friends, always nearby, 
always out of reach.  She had to have known that I was attracted to 
her.  All my friends on the team knew she was always high up on my 
list, and they would certainly never let a teasing opportunity go by 
without taking as much advantage as I would let them take.  And she 
would always play it coy with me.  Looking at our table out of the 
corner of her baby-blue eyes, swishing her long blonde hair off her 
shoulder, crossing and uncrossing her long legs, leaning back and 
laughing at some clever thing one of her girlfriends said and pressing
her sweater tight against her boobs, all the time knowing that my 
friends and I were over there drooling over the vision of all that 
lovely cheerleader poontang sitting there, not being used properly 
(in our sophisticated opinions anyway), and hoping that, eventually, 
Fortune would smile down on us and grant us a precious evening alone 
with the girl of our choice.

Okay, I admit it, we were young and foolish.  And stupid.  But 
Fortune did indeed smile upon me one glorious fall evening that year.




HARD PROMISE
Rev. Cotton Mather

	
- 2 -

The night before our homecoming football game, the school sponsored a 
big bonfire out on the baseball field, and most of the kids from the 
high school were there.  The mood was effervescent, and my buddies 
and I contributed to the manic energy by throwing huge logs into the 
fire, laughing and showing off.  Later, off in one of the dimmer 
areas away from the giant fire, a bunch of seniors from the football 
team were passing around a lot of cheap wine in grape drink bottles, 
and most of the team was gathered around.  Since the quarterback, a 
senior, was hot and heavy with the head cheerleader, a lot of her 
friends were there also, including Melissa.  Mutual attraction 
exerted its gravitational pull on both of us, and pretty soon we 
were standing side by side, shivering and stamping our feet at the 
cold, taking sips and gulps from the bottles as they were passed 
around, joking and chatting with each other and with those around us.

By the time the wine had been by us four or five times, couples had 
started pairing off into more private conversations.  I had my arm 
around Melissa's shoulder, ostensibly to provide a little warmth, and 
our conversation got quieter and softer and more exclusive with the 
mood around us.  We were still just talking about easy stuff, about 
teachers and coaches, dissing our friends, that kind of thing, but 
there was an undertone we were both aware of, even if we weren't 
actually acknowledging it.  By evening's end we were holding hands 
and laughing comfortably with each other like we had been doing this 
for months.  Later that night, back at Fabrice's after the bonfire, 
our two groups had merged, and we were all sitting at a bunch of 
tables moved together, still paired up and talking now as couples 
instead of groups separated by gender.  Brad, my best friend since 
6th grade, gave me a thumbs-up when no one else was looking.

The next day was Homecoming.  The cheerleaders were all marching 
together in the parade, and the football team pretty much stayed 
together and soaked up the cheers and good wishes from the town.  It's
a great feeling to know that you are a part of all that good karma, 
and my buddies and I really hammed it up.  At the game we all wanted 
to give back to the town and the school a team "thank-you" for their
enthusiasm, so we really played tough, and everyone on the team 
concentrated on the game, so there wasn't the usual goofing off on 
the bench that day.  I did manage to glance over at the cheerleading 
squad when I was not involved on the field, and a couple of times I 
saw Missy watching me.  It kind of gave me the chills to think that 
she might like me as much as I liked her.  But the important thing 
at the time was that we played well, and we won the game.

A week later a bunch of us met at the local movie theater and paired 
off again.  I don't for the life of me remember what the movie was 
because I was so nervous.  By the time the opening credits had
finished, Missy and I were holding hands and paying more attention to
each other's body language than to the movie playing on the screen.
By the end of the second reel, our knees were touching, and I had my
arm draped around her shoulder.  She leaned in closer to me, and
stayed that way until the end of the film.  We were still feeling a
little tentative, however, which made us sit up a little straighter
than we would have otherwise.  My arm started to tingle and fall
asleep. but I was not going to remove it, no matter how uncomfortable
I got.

At the end of the movie, just before the house lights came up, I 
painfully lifted my arm off her shoulder and started rubbing it,
trying to get some feeling back into it.  Missy glanced at me out of
the corner of her eye, and started giggling.  My first thought was
What the heck is she laughing at?, but I couldn't hold that thought
for more than a moment before I started chuckling, too.  It was kind
of funny, I thought, to think that through most of a two-hour movie I 
had no feeling at all in my arm, this arm that was closest to this 
girl I was beginning to really like a lot.

We walked out of the movie holding hands, bundled up against the cold,
and joined our friends as we all piled into cars to go back to the 
pizza joint.  Missy and I jumped into my friend Brad's car with about 
6 other kids, and she sat on my lap the whole way.  I was not 
comfortable at all, seeing as how I had about 110 pounds of 
cheerleader sitting almost directly on a part of me that was 
getting distressingly larger and stiffer by the second, but I 
wouldn't have traded the moment for anything.  Missy, meanwhile, kept 
on wriggling around, trying to make room for the other kids also 
wedged into the car, and incidentally increasing my discomfort.  She 
made no indication at all that she felt me rising beneath her, other 
than glancing over her shoulder at me occasionally and smiling, but 
she certainly had to have noticed it.

By the time we got to the pizza parlor, I was in no small amount of 
pain, and had difficulty straightening up once we got out of the car. 
Fortunately, my coat was sufficiently long to hide my erection, which
managed to spring up once Missy got off my lap.  Standing by the car,
she asked if I was all right, all the time trying to hide a rather 
large grin behind her solicitude.  By the time I managed to stand up
straight she was already tugging me into the restaurant, laughing 
and joking with everyone.

I imagine that nearly everybody remembers their first really good 
kiss.  My first really memorable kiss was with Missy later that night 
on the ride home.  Sure, I had been out with other girls before, and 
had played suckface and grab-ass with a couple of them, but even at 
the time I knew that they really didn't mean anything much to me.  
But that night, back in Brad's car, it was just the four of us left.
Brad and his girlfriend Lindsey, me and Melissa.  Brad and Lindsey 
had definite plans for later, I was sure, and they were gracious in 
agreeing to drop us off.  On the way to Missy's house, the radio was 
playing softly, and it was lightly snowing, making it seem like we 
were the only people left in the world.  Even with a center console 
on his car, Lindsey was leaning on Brad's shoulder as he drove, and 
Missy and I had our arms wrapped around each other in the back seat.
At least part of the reason we were so close was because of the cold,
but we both knew, also, that this night held something special for 
us as a couple, that it kind of marked the beginning of our 
relationship.

As we turned down Missy's street she turned to me, and her eyes were 
soft and blue and wistful and irresistible.  I leaned over her, 
closed my eyes, and we softly kissed.  And held that kiss for what 
seemed like a year.  Her lips were moving slightly against mine, 
parted just a little, and her lipstick tasted of strawberries.  After 
we broke the kiss we gazed at each other, both slightly breathless, 
both with nothing and everything to say, all of it left unsaid.  We 
came together again for another kiss, but this one had the strength 
of a hunger behind it, and our embrace was tighter and more 
demanding.  She opened her mouth slightly and touched my lips with 
her tongue, causing my internal temperature to flare.  I reached 
out just a little with my tongue, touching tips with hers, and 
fireworks seemed to go off in my head.  As Brad pulled into her 
driveway we pulled reluctantly apart, breathing hard.  Missy's face 
was flushed, and she took a deep breath, and said, "Wow."

It's a moment that will live within me forever.
	

	
By the time I came out of my trance Brad was in front of my house 
and anxious for me to get the hell out of his way so he and Lindsey 
could head out to their favorite parking spot, so I said my good-byes 
and headed into the house and up to my room.  I was tempted to call 
Melissa right away to try to make the magic of the night last a little
longer, but decided that I had better not call her house so late and 
incur the wrath of her parents.  After all, they were going to get to 
know me very well quite soon, I was sure, as Melissa and I became 
closer.

It was a very long time before I was able to go to sleep that night.





HARD PROMISE
Rev. Cotton Mather

	
- 3 -


And so it began.  We started hanging out after our respective
practices ended, talking for as long as we could.  Missy's mother
would always pick her up from cheerleading practice, and Brad was just
as happy to stick around and wait for me since that gave him and
Lindsey more time together, too.  Missy told her mom that practice was
being extended by twenty minutes, a little white lie to buy a little
extra time for us.  When she saw her mother's car pull into the school
lot she would jump up, give me a quick wave and a smile, and run down
the drive so her mother wouldn't see she was sitting around talking to
a boy.  The good news about this routine is I really loved watching
her run down the drive.  The bad news is that all the other football
players who were still around also were watching her appreciatively,
which I didn't particularly care for.  Even Brad, as seriously in lust
as he was with Lindsey, took a moment out of whispering in her ear to
watch Missy run, for which he earned a killer look from Lindsey along
with a slug to his arm that I'm sure stung for quite awhile.  And, to
top it all off, I had a feeling that Melissa's name was going to be
added to a few more lists the next time we got around to revising
them.

Missy's parents were very conservative and wouldn't allow her to go 
out on a date.  Group activities were all right, however, so the next 
Friday we arranged to meet, as usual, at Fabrice's after the football 
game.  Brad and I had concocted a scheme to take off right away from 
the pizza parlor and head out to one of the public beaches with the 
girls.  We made sure we had some beer, some wine, and lots of blankets
in the car.  Missy was nervous about leaving her friends at Fabrice's,
but I think she was as anxious as I was about having a little time 
alone together, and that sentiment prevailed.

It was a clear, cold night.  We brought along a large pizza and ate it
in the car at the beach, popping open the beer and wine at the same 
time.  The windows of the car were steaming up from the pizza and the 
combined exhalations of the four of us, and we were all as happy as it
was possible to be at that age.

When the pizza was gone we all jumped out of the car, each with a 
blanket or two, and we ran down toward the waterline.  There were fire
pits built into the ground and we found enough sticks and wood to 
build a small fire.  The four of us dropped our blankets and ran down 
to the lake, where Brad and I tried to teach Lindsey and Missy how to 
skip stones on the water.  Their efforts were pitiful, and we all 
ended up falling on the frozen sand, laughing until our sides ached.
As we were lying there catching our breath, Missy just naturally 
rolled against me, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and 
pulled her closer.


We all got up and headed back to our meager fire.  It had burned down 
to mere embers, giving us a point of reference, instead of heat or 
light.  Brad and Lindsey wrapped themselves under two blankets on one 
side of the pit, and Missy and I spread one blanket on the ground and 
pulled two others over us, covering ourselves from our feet up over 
our heads.  Within this dark cocoon we were insulated from the cold 
and from the rest of the world.

As we lay there we were facing each other.  I had one arm around her 
neck, hand resting on her shoulder.  I unzipped her heavy coat and 
slipped my other hand under her coat across her waist.  Gazing into 
my eyes, she slowly unzipped my coat and threaded her arms inside and 
around me, then lifted up her face to me.  She closed her eyes, and 
without saying a word, kissed me tenderly on the lips.  Her lips were 
soft and creamy and again tasted faintly of strawberries.  We
separated momentarily, remembering to breathe once again, then slipped
into another kiss.  Her arms clenched, and heat suddenly poured into
the kiss as I felt her mouth open against mine and the tips of our
tongues met for only the second time.  I felt more than heard her moan
softly, and I heard myself growl as sensations I had scarcely imagined
began coursing through my body.  I couldn't seem to get her close
enough to me as my arms tightened.  I felt her leg reach around mine
as if she, too, was trying to remove some distance between us.  By
this time our tongues were wrestling with each other, first within her
mouth, and then inside mine.  We were both breathing heavily, sharing
the close air underneath the blankets, and the air temperature around
us moderated with our exhalations and the release of our body heat.  
My hand, already warmed, found its way under her sweater to the soft 
skin beneath, and I pressed my palm against the small of her back, 
luxuriating in the softness of her skin overlaying the hard muscles 
just under the surface.  In response, I felt one of her hands snake 
under my sweatshirt and T-shirt, caressing up and down my back and 
side.  I ran my hand up the smooth length of her back until I felt 
the tight band of her bra, and slipped under the strap between her 
shoulder blades, and pressed her even more tightly to me.  I twisted, 
turning her under me so that she was on her back and I was over her, 
still engaged in our kiss.  My hand slipped back down her back, then 
across her waist to her stomach, still under her sweater.  She broke 
the kiss, and I bent to kiss and suck on her neck and earlobe,
creating a purring sound from deep within her.  She stretched her neck
up, giving me more to caress with my lips, and she brought one hand up
to the back of my head, fingers running through my hair as she pressed
me closer to her sensitive throat.  Her leg was still running up and
down mine, her knee creating contact from my upper thigh to nearly my
shin.  Her breathing was ragged as she pulled my face up to indulge in
another open-mouthed kiss.  I thrust my tongue deeply into her mouth, 
and felt her lips and teeth nibble along its length.  At the same time
she sucked in, drawing breath from my lungs into hers.  My hand 
slipped up to her small breast, and I could feel her nipple poking 
into my palm through her bra.  As I gently squeezed, her breath 
caught, and she pushed my tongue out of her mouth with hers and 
roughly entwined it with hers.

I broke the kiss and we both gasped for breath.  She pushed her chest 
up, pressing her breast into my hand as her mouth opened in a silent 
scream.  I bent to taste the skin at her throat again as I slipped my 
hand beneath the elastic edge of her bra and cupped her soft breast.  
She moaned and ran her own hand down from my back to grab my ass and 
pull me against her, her hips bumping against my erection almost of 
their own accord.  I moved my hand across her chest, pushing her bra 
up over her small breasts, and caressed her other nipple and breast.
I reveled in the shape and texture of her flesh, marveling in the 
sensation of finally, actually touching sensitive female parts for 
the first time in my life.

I slid down from her throat and licked and kissed around the 
circumference of her breast, massaging the other one at the same time.
I took her engorged nipple into my mouth and sucked on it, causing her
to groan and hold my head close to her.  I opened my mouth wide and 
tried to suck in as much of her breast as I could, until I felt her 
nipple against the back of my tongue.  I then licked my way over to 
her other breast and tasted it the same way.  She was moaning the 
entire time, and was slowly shaking her head back and forth, lost in 
the feelings being transmitted from her aroused body.

Emboldened, I slipped my hand back down her as I was feasting on her 
breast until I reached her waist and the waistband of her tight jeans.
As my fingers tried to wiggle under the denim, she stiffened slightly 
and, grabbing my wrist, said softly, "No, Ray.  Please don't."

I acquiesced and brought my hand back up to play once more with her 
turgid nipple.  I scootched back up and kissed her eyelids, her 
cheekbones, her earlobes, and finally planted soft kisses on her 
lips.  As our lips touched, she once again opened her mouth and 
stretched her tongue in search of mine.  I squeezed first one breast, 
then the other, as our tongues battled, alternately pinching and 
caressing each distended nipple in turn.  Finally, almost as an 
antidote to the intense heat we were generating for each other, our 
mouths slid apart, leaving trails of moisture along each other's 
cheeks, and our arms and hands left their caresses and moved to each 
other's back, each of us pulling the other into a fierce hug.

"Oh, Ray," she whispered in my ear, "I'm afraid."

Surprised, I arched back and looked into her eyes.  They were soft and
doelike in the darkness of our hideaway.

"Why are you afraid?" I asked her.

She pressed herself back against me, hugging me, and didn't answer for
what seemed like a long time.

"I'm afraid of my feelings for you," she said so softly I almost 
couldn't hear.

I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't say anything.  I did 
kiss her again, though, and it must have been the right answer,
because she kissed me back, hard.

Just at that moment we both heard a keening wail that started low and 
quiet, and built up into a very loud, ululating cry.  It seemed to
come from just on the other side of our fire pit.  It caused us to sit
up in alarm and look over at the pile of blankets just beyond the
embers.  All we could see was the pile jerking up and down, and then
stopping as the cry faded into the night.  When we realized that the
sound was coming from Lindsey's throat, we looked at each other and
began to giggle and extricate ourselves from our own twisted covers.
When the blankets fell off us, the cold air hit us hard enough to take
our breath away as we struggled to rearrange our clothes and zip up
our coats.  As we were getting up and folding our blankets, Brad and 
Lindsey emerged from their shelter, clothing completely disheveled.  
They saw us and stopped, apparently having forgotten that we had come 
with them, then looked at each other sheepishly.  They stood up, 
blankets around them, and hustled off toward the woods, away from the 
dim firelight, to put their clothes back on.  They walked back toward 
us in a few minutes, arm in arm, and we all started laughing again as 
we packed up our gear into Brad's car.

As we climbed into the car, Brad started it up.  We were waiting for 
the car's interior to warm up, cuddled together two by two, when Brad 
said, "Sorry about that, guys.  We didn't realize we were making so 
much noise."

This caused us to break up laughing again at the ridiculousness of 
the situation, four voices raucous in the enjoyment of their youth.

"Just drive, Bucko", said Lindsey, giggling.

All the way back to Missy's house we were holding tightly onto each 
other, alternately kissing with a renewed passion and gazing
wordlessly into each other's eyes, until all too soon we were pulling
into her driveway.  Almost immediately her porch light came on, so she
reluctantly let go of me and slid over to the door.  She leaned back 
over and gave me one last scorching kiss, then opened the door, and 
with a soft "Good night", left me cooling and suddenly lonely in the 
back seat.

I stared into nothingness, thinking about Missy and the evening until 
Brad dropped me off at my house.

	

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