Miss Johansson

          Chapter 9.

          Mom looked like a million dollars as I walked back into our house. Dressed to meet the queen, I suppose, I couldn’t remember seeing her so fresh looking, so lithe, even so excited. I asked her, “What’s up with you?”

          Sometimes a mom fishes for her compliments. That was the case then. Mom knew she looked fabulous but until someone says so, it ain’t real enough. Her blush as she turned to look in her mirror explained enough so I told her what I thought of the way she looked. I made her even happier.

          “Where’s Dad, Mom?”

          “He hasn’t returned from his golf outing. I’ve had him paged but there’s been no response yet. We must go without him should he not make it back in time. Your coach seems anxious to say something to you and Toby tonight.”

          Come Six-Ten, Dad still wasn’t home so Mom called the shot. We left to ride to Chippollo’s by ourselves. Mom didn’t bother to leave a note for Dad.

          We were about half way there when Mom made a suggestion. “Turn left here, Brad. I want to see something.”

          Dutifully, I turned, wondering why. A block down that street, Mom said, “Stop at this intersection for a moment, honey.”

          I stopped, as dutifully as ever and looked in the direction of Mom’s gaze. I saw Dad’s new car parked in an apartment building’s parking lot. I looked at Mom. She looked at me. We didn’t move. I looked back and saw Dad rushing out of the apartment building to his car. He seemed concerned about the time since he kept his attention on his wristwatch. Mom said, “Turn right, here, Brad, and let’s get out of here.”

          I looked into my rear view mirror and saw that Dad never bothered to look up. We managed to escape his detection but I hadn’t tried anything sneaky at all. When we turned left again onto the road to Chippolla’s, Mom spoke up, her voice tremulous, “This morning, Brad, when I made up my mind about you there in the shower, this is the reason why.”

          “This is? This what, Mom?”

          “Your father’s secretary lives back there in that apartment complex. She’s a horrible mess but your father finds it helpful to calm her spirits every now and then. He thinks I don’t know about his dalliances like this but he leaves clues all over the place. I can’t miss them.”

          “You think Dad loves her?”

          “Love is a funny topic, Brad. Even with a mercy fuck like your father gives his secretary from time to time, there’s a bit of love involved. Otherwise, I don’t think your Dad could do it. He wears his emotions on his sleeve. If he knew I knew, it might kill his sex life altogether. So, I tolerate his play this way but I didn’t mind doing what I did with you this morning one bit.”

          “Then maybe I can expect more of the same soon?”

          I thought Mom might cry but she pulled herself together quickly. After we were down the road a few more blocks, she reached over, squeezed my forearm, and whispered, “I love you, Brad.”

          Well, I became worried about Mom’s composure during our dinner with the Smiths and our coach. Her emotions were surely elevated right then.

          ~

          We arrived in Chippollo’s parking lot and Mom discovered Mrs. Smith and Toby waiting on us near the entrance to the restaurant. Now Mrs. Smith may be Mom’s closest confidant, had been for years, so I wasn’t surprised to find Mom lighting up instantly but think about really bright lights here.

          Mom didn’t wait for me to open her door. She stepped out of that old car, left the door for me to close behind her, and she ran to Toby Smith. I closed the old car’s door and looked that way to find Mom in an aggressive embrace, one that might ordinarily embarrass the hell out of Toby. Not this time. Toby was seriously into business with my Mom, hugging her back tightly while Toby’s mother with slightly oversized buns stood there with a grossly gleeful perverse leer cutting across her face like a scar.

          That Mom couldn’t seem to get a hold on herself right then might have been understood by someone in the know, like Mrs. Smith, for example, but I stood there agog, disbelieving for a time. Then I thought back to Mom’s request of me to have Toby come visit her. I began to get a different picture. Mom might be going crazy over her Carl using Toby as her substitute. Toby’s Mom would be a participant, an encourager, a facilitator, likely. And Toby really had no choice in the matter. Even I participated, encouraged him, although unknowing of the true purposes intended for Toby.

          As I walked up to join them, Toby couldn’t, wouldn’t, look at me. He managed to look everywhere else. On one hand he trembled, possibly scared of my opinion of him in light of events he had recently encountered, while on the other hand, he tried to present an image of possibly the real proud Carl. Somebody had been playing a mind game on Toby and he obviously suffered from his attempts to play the game. Toby’s biggest problem arose from his cock. Mom’s embrace had him hurting to the extent that Mom knew she had to help him cover himself somehow.

          To avoid creating more problems for Toby, I chose not to get involved with whatever might be ongoing there. I watched, of course, because it was the funniest thing imaginable, as Mom and Mrs. Smith whispered anxiously about what their course of action might be to keep Toby’s emergence somewhat private. Nothing seemed workable and real fright appeared in the faces of those two women as I mentioned the arrival of the coach’s car.

          While Mom and Mrs. Smith looked toward the coach’s car in horror, they didn’t realize that the arrival of the coach himself would be sufficient to instantly suppress any vulgar thoughts Toby might possess. I tried to suppress my laughter, but couldn’t, as their horror climbed further, until Toby pushed them aside and walked forward to shake the coach’s hand. The coach’s wife recognized the behavioral forms but shook her head while trying to figure it all.

          ~

          Of course, with the coach there, we got down to business real fast. He obviously didn’t like the idea that our fathers weren’t there but he tossed that problem with a shrug of his shoulders. After drinks were ordered, the coach justified his request for a meeting.

          ”Look, folks, I’m speaking bluntly to move things along. We lost a couple of players for good this last game. We’re coming up against our better rivals, and I need to make some changes which effect you two guys. Because of the nature of the changes, I want to make sure you have support from home first thing. There will be some mind games ongoing and we need to have things secure at home first. I need for Mom and Dad to be behind us, for sure.”

          The drinks arrived and the coach took a breather for a couple of sips. Then he progressed. “Our offense is getting too good, our defense is falling apart through injuries. If we can’t fix things, we’re not gonna win much more.”

          The waiter came to take our orders so we paused yet again. Then the coach spoke to me. “Brad, I want you to move right, to defensive end. I want you to balance out that side while Toby... I want you, Toby to move across the line. Brad will tie down the right, Toby, you’re the plug on the left. Now I’ve been using you, Toby, in goal line defenses already. You’ll still be doing that but I will also use you on offense in the red zone. You, too, Brad, if our offense can’t replace you well enough.”

          That the coach was concerned about either me or Toby or both objecting couldn’t be missed. His sham call for parent’s participation was all play acting. He frankly was trying to pull all his strings to be sure he would get our support without argument. He was in the midst of his season and he couldn’t afford argument of any kind. A player has to support his coach, I figured. So, I threw him a thumbs up even before he asked if we could live with the changes. Toby followed my lead, although he had difficulty picking the right thumb to throw. His mind was into Mom’s panty I suspected right then. She sat right beside him with her knee pressed tight to his thigh.

          With the coach satisfied with having our support, he let his chest relax as his wife took charge of the dinner conversation. The three women got their act together and had fun doing it. We finished our dinner and cleared out. Well, Toby dragged his feet a little. He didn’t want to go out as long as Mom was around while the coach could see him.

          Seizing the opportunity, I suggested to Mom that she get Mrs. Smith to drop her by the house while I could take Toby bowling for a few of sets. Mom seemed ready to catch up on Mrs. Smith’s end of their intelligence world so we had a deal.

          ~

          I took Toby to my Dad’s old car and we cranked it up to go to the bowling alley. As we drove there, Toby didn’t say a word. He sat there in the twilight wringing his hands.

          A long time neighbor owns the bowling alley Tobe and I were visiting. I’d cut the owner’s grass many times so he had reason enough to be familiar. He saw Toby and me coming in and waited on us himself. I looked around and didn’t see much happening before I asked somewhat quietly, “How about a couple of beers in paper cups?”

          Without an objection at all, my neighbor simply pointed to the lounge area where we could take a table in a somewhat isolated spot. Moments later, he brought Toby and me our cups filled with beer and left us without asking for payment. He never asks. I have to leave the payment and the tip and that duty always scares me because I might easily forget to do such a thing.

          With my long time best pal right there with me, I wanted Toby Smith to relax and sip easy with me like we usually do. Didn’t happen. Toby’s eyes roamed everywhere but at me. His hands fidgeted forever, it seemed. With a bit of study, I concluded it could go either way with him. On one hand, I thought Toby held a fear about telling me something. On the other hand, I suspected he could break out in raucously bawdy laughter at any moment. For Toby, that’s a load.

          Hanging there within Toby’s dilemma seemed to be his choice of what might be more important to him. His fear, probably of hurting me, losing some of his best friend’s respect, even of losing some status within his own mental framework, appeared to be one of his priorities. The other, the one about to cause him to burst in screaming delight, had to do with our long established bond, one much stronger than simple camaraderie; Toby didn’t have anyone else with whom he’d rather share his news. He seemed torn, emotionally bent, in his try to resolve his dilemma. I was halfway down my cup of beer when Toby broke.

          Near tears, and for a guy his size to be near tears is a rare sight, Toby finally let his weary and uncertain eyes fall on mine as he whimpered, “You’re gonna kill me, Brad.”

          Well, I knew Toby wasn’t worried about me killing him. I could try and my try would only humor him, and throw him into his raucously bawdy laughter, too. His fear near tears masked too much, perhaps, but he had some kind of emotional obstacle to get over right ahead of him. I had a suspicion what he might be heading toward but I didn’t want to trip him into going there. If Toby wanted to ask for my forgiveness about anything, then such a request must come from within him, not from anywhere else. With my usual condescending smile showing brightly for him, I waited.

          When he screwed up his courage, Toby tried to appear calm but he almost blurted, “You remember your Mom catching me in your room?”

          “Sure, Tobe. Wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”

          “Your Mom called my Mom and told her about what she saw.”

          “Oh. I didn’t know that, Tobe. I’m sorry she did that.”

          Gasping for a better breath, Toby continued. “Betty laughs at me first and now my mom... Oh, God, Brad! Mom laughed at me big time about that happening! I had to show her, demonstrate what it was I got caught doing there in your bedroom! She kept on laughing at me... Well, until finally I had to tell her it was good for fucking an entire harem!”

          “And your mom laughed even more then, Tobe?”

          More driven now, Toby began to press on. “Nope! She got real serious! Even called your mom back and they talked about it more. Seems it’s real, that harem fucking part. My mom got real excited about me fucking a harem, too. She wanted to know where my harem was. I told her I didn’t have it yet, that I was just gettin’ ready for gettin’ one. So, she called your mom back again and they talked forever. Then something happened.”

          “What happened, Tobe.”

          “Mom hung up. That’s what happened.”

          “Sounds like a real hang up to me, Tobe.”

          As if he didn’t know enough for sure yet, Toby looked curious as he fished a bit. “That’s exactly what my mom said, Brad. She said your mom had this hang up for a guy like me she met back in her college days.”

          “Mom said something about that guy to me, too, Tobe.”

         With that much assurance that his mom might be right in that matter, Toby added more.  “Well, when you called me this morning to ask me to come visit your mom, my mom took me aside and said that your mom wanted to see me real bad. It sounded as if your mom might be having another one of her hang ups.”

          “Did that prove to be the case, Tobe?”

          Possibly, that question sounded accusative to Toby. Instantly, he tightened up, as if he expected me to heap shame on him. “Prove? What... I don’t know about that. All I know is that my mom said it would be gracious of me if I did whatever your mom asked me to do. Well, I didn’t suspect anything from all that right then so I decided to get dressed so I could go on to your house like you asked.”

          “So far, so good. Nothing wrong with helping your best pal, is there, Tobe?”

          Helping his best pal must have been the wrong topic to raise with Toby. His world seemed to go haywire right then. His eyes took another trip around the premises. He couldn’t muster up his words directly. His hands shook, his knees trembled, and in general, Toby appeared to be loosing it.

          With his arms rising defensively, Toby murmured, “You’ll kill me, Brad...”

          “Tobe, I’m your buddy. I don’t...”

          Toby began to sob, gasp, wheeze, and slobber but even though he slurred his words, he conveyed an agonized whisper in resignation. “I didn’t exactly help my best pal, Brad!”

          With that admission made, the sobbing and gasping only grew more strident. I didn’t know what to say, not exactly. I suspected Toby of acting childishly; perhaps he needed to get his sobbing out of his system, so I didn’t panic. I waited as I thought about how I might be feeling should I be in his shoes.

          I remembered that Toby had little to say in this matter dealing with my mom; all his decisions had been made for him. The fact that he could perform at all in the setting seemed impressive to me. Yet, here my best pal sat all twisted up in an emotional tizzy so out-of-kilter as to deserve yet another swift, sharp whack. My problem was I didn’t yet know, as Toby had put it, exactly what he did. I fished.

          “Uh... Look, Tobe, you got dressed. Then what did you do or not do, exactly?”

          When I saw Toby’s eyes searching for mine again, I strained to listen carefully to learn what I could that caused a tough Toby to become so wrapped up in something. Gaining a measure of better control over his emotions for a second, he began to explain himself, all the while looking at me as if he expected my disapproval of whatever he may have done.

          “You know the mill pond between your house and mine, Brad?”

          Well, that sort of question lightened the load considerably. Toby and me, we can handle the mill pond easily enough. It’s a strange way to approach an emotional hang up, however. To play along, I replied, “Of course, Tobe. What about it?”

          “That’s as far as I got.”

          “You got to the mill pond. You want a gold star for that much of a trip? Why did you stop there?”

          “I didn’t stop.”

          “Come on, Tobe. Open up. What did you do if you didn’t stop there at the mill pond? Where else did you go? Why?”

          A sense of slight shame appeared in Toby’s features then but I also detected a bit of his pride showing. Could it be that he was scared of my reaction but he wasn’t ashamed at all of whatever he did? Toby's being a tough nut to crack.

          “Why? I got to thinking about your mom, Brad, about her hang up, about her wanting to see me real bad. Then I guessed why she wanted to see me so bad. That much thought about someone like your mom caused me to get too hard to continue on up the mill pond hill. I had to take a hike around the mill pond in a try to get my damned pecker to go back down!”

          “You were afraid of being exposed publicly. I can understand that matter, Tobe. Did the hike help?”

          Sucking in a deep, staggered breath, Toby replied as he wrung his hands nervously, “Nope. I kept on thinking about your mom and what she might want from me and that much thought only made me stiffer. I had to keep on walking around the Goddamned pond!”

          “How many times around the pond, Tobe?”

          “Far too many times. Got tired of walking. Went into the bushes there at the back of the pond and pulled it out along with my ribbon and right there in broad daylight, I practiced Betty’s exercises all by myself.”

          “Tobe, couldn’t you have just put your hand in your pocket and held that monster down until you got to my house?”

          “I thought about that. Two problems there. First is this; it’s my best pal’s mom there at your house. Second thing is, I swore to Betty... Well, to you too since we’re getting organized and all...”

          “Some people might say you have a couple of hang ups there, Tobe.”

          “Tell me about it, Brad! I sure felt hung up right then! My best pal had asked me to go but I wasn’t sure my best pal understood what I understood. I needed a meeting with you again on that sort of matter but I couldn’t have a meeting because by thinking about your mom I kept making myself unpresentable! I exercised until I couldn’t do it anymore, Brad! Still, every time I walked back onto the track around the pond, I got hard again! I didn’t know what to do, Brad. I felt like a broken record spinning and spinning !”

          “Obviously, you did something else. What?”

          For some reason, Toby relaxed then, leaned back in his chair, and began to act as if he might be on a more sure footing, as if he had evidence or proof in hand about what else he did. Confidently, he said, “Went swimming.”

          “It’s too cold to go swimming, Tobe.”

          “Not if you want to shrink a perpetual hard on, it ain’t.”

          “That mill pond is a fire pond, not a swimming hole, Tobe.”

          “The pond didn’t object when I walked right on in, Brad.”

          “You walked into the mill pond in the cold of late October?”

          “It worked. Can’t complain about that, can you? It felt pretty damned good.”

          “Anybody see you go in the pond?”

          “Yeah. Johnny Thurber. He arrested me but he took me home, not to jail. I had to sit in the back seat of his patrol car, in his cage, until I got through explaining why I walked into the pond.”

          “You explained?”

          “Well, I just told him about getting a hard on so bad I couldn’t go on up the hill. I didn’t explain why I got a hard on, though. He wanted to know why but I just shrugged my shoulders. He said he thought he could understand such a thing and finally he took me on home. Scared Mom half to death, too.”

          “Why? What scared your mom?”

          “Your mom called my mom and explained I hadn’t arrived at your house as expected. Mom didn’t know where I might be. She and your mom conjured up all sorts of reasons why I might not show up at your house, too. They were frightened about whatever they conjured up, I gathered. Then, when she saw me all wet, she assumed the worse case, as if whatever I may have tried to do she may have provoked all by herself. Johnny Thurber sure looked confused there for a time. Since he didn’t want to talk about why I kept walking and swimming, he left our place pretty quick. I wonder if he made a log entry.”

          “Then what happened?”

          “Mom got mad.”

          “Mad? How?”

          “Mom made me get cleaned up again, dressed all over again, then she put me in her car and took me to your house.”

          “Oh, boy! Then what?”

          “Your mom and mine, together they cried crocodile tears for awhile. Made me feel real bad, seeing all that upsetness. Your mom kept hugging and kissing me as I stood there and you know what sort of troubles that leads to for me. Finally, I had to explain what was happening to me with all those hugs and kisses.”

          “And?”

          “They were amazed, disbelieving, shocked, maybe. They kept looking at my bulge as if it might be a prophetic happening, until your mom got real smart. She took us into her kitchen where we could sit at her table and talk without a lot more hugs and kisses.”

          “Did you have a good talk then, Tobe?”

          Filled with confidence now, Toby seemed more than content as he replied, “Sure did. I told them the whole truth, everything about the mill pond episode, an episode being what they called it. They laughed and cried so much as to keep me confused about where I might be standing with them. They had a thousand questions for me, too. I just kept on talking but I didn’t say a word about our organization, Brad.”

          “How did you wind up standing with them?”

          “I wound up standing, that’s how.”

          “Make some sense for me here, Tobe.”

          “Well, both of them decided I might be some kind of a special hero. Didn’t make sense to me but they sure acted as if I’d made their day by behaving as I did. Your mom was especially pleased to learn what I thought of her luscious body ‘cause I had to explain why I thought that way over and over with all of their questions about that. I could tell both of them were getting more and more excited as I talked. Then they whispered together some. I couldn’t hear their whispers.”

          “What happened after they whispered together”

          “Your mom asked me to stand up. That’s how I wound up standing.”

          “So, you stood?”

          “Yep. Stood. Then Mom came over and stood by me as she asked me to demonstrate my exercises for them. I don’t think Mom meant for me not to do that, Brad. She made sure I removed my trousers and underwear, too.”

          “And you exercised your already tired cock for them?”

          “It didn’t feel very tired while I stood there in front of your mom, Brad!”

          “How many trips through the exercise did you go for them?”

          “Twice.”

          “OK. Then?”

          “You sure you want to know everything, Brad?”

          “Are we pals or are we pals?”

          “Your mom asked me to come stand by her chair. She took my ribbon away and then she played with my prick a bit. She plays well, too. Mom kept looking over my shoulder as your mom played. Neither of them could get enough breath. Then your mom took a hand towel from her counter top and... Boy, does she know how to use a hand towel!”

          “Finally found a way to get it back down, right?”

          “For just a minute! It sure did feel great, Brad! Fantastic!”

          “For just a minute? There’s more?”

          “She did it again, only this time they took turns and played a lot longer. After the second shoot, Mom suggested I get dressed again because your mom said your dad might be coming home soon. So, I wound up standing there while both of our moms seemed very pleased with me.”

          “How much of this am I supposed to believe, Tobe?”

          “Are we pals or are we pals, Brad?”

          “Friends and pals forever, Tobe. You can take that fact to the bank.”

          “Think we ought to tell Betty anything about this? You know I swore...”

          “Hell, no! Tobe, your affair with our moms is more private than your swear to Betty. Don’t ever tell anybody what’s private unless they have a need to know. Betty doesn’t need to know about you and Mom, I feel sure.”

          His forehead wrinkled, Toby said, “I’m gonna need your help with this swearing stuff, this privacy stuff. Betty can get pretty tough working my mind over...”

          “It’s a real simple matter to deal with, Tobe, no matter who is trying to work you over. Just assume they don’t have a need to know until they can convince you that they do. The way to be convinced if they do is to come ask me or Betty, or even Miss Johansson. I’ll be asking you when I run into questions like that myself. Just don’t talk about private stuff until you’re convince somebody needs to know.”

          I’d been sensing an even temperament coming from Toby for some time by then. He’d lost his fear of losing his best pal, I felt sure. He wanted to move on in a greater confidence to other friends then. “When can we do Betty, Brad?”

          “Miss Johansson wants us to come up with a cover plan first.”

          “What are we planning to cover?”

          “Our asses, in case we get caught. We get caught, we get kicked out of school. We don’t want to get caught, do we?”

          “Well, I guess we do need a plan. You got one in mind yet?”

          “Not yet. I don’t have enough experience, possibly. It’s a scary thing, too.”

          “That’s how I’ve been feeling about your mom, Brad. I’ve been scared shitless about getting caught thinking about her. I’ve been scared most about you catching on. God, I’m glad I’ve talked with you!”

          Well, there it was, the signal I’d hoped to hear soon from my best pal. To keep him going in that direction, I thought of a shift in topics.

          “What do you think about the coach’s moves, Tobe?”

          “You and me on defense won’t be a private affair for long, Brad!”

          Nodding my head in understanding, I let Toby have the agreement he wanted but I also winced a bit, to hint of a differing viewpoint. He picked up on the wince fast enough.

          “Something else bothering you, Brad?”

          Being slow respond, I wanted to give Toby time to anticipate me. He deserves it, especially if he’s just gone through the agony of squaring emotions with his best pal. Toby, though, can’t wait too long for much. He had his finger rolling already when I spoke.

          “I may be having a problem making the change, Tobe.”

          “Shit! You? No way! What kind of a problem?”

          “Mindsets, Tobe. I don’t have a handle on the differences between offense and defense.”

          “Differences? There’s not much to differ, Brad. Football is football, plain and simple. You see a problem with that? Tell me what problem.”

          “Same one everyone else suffers through when they shift from offense to defense, the problem of not knowing whether you can fuck somebody over or not. Going from offense to defense is like switching between servicing and fucking.”

          “Come again, Brad?”

          “When people screw for effect, it’s a matter of knowing what’s going on in their minds. For example, had you gone to my house this afternoon and made my mom happy, you wouldn’t have been fucking her. While you may have gotten fucked, you would have been only servicing her.”

          Continuing his sharp shift into confusion, Toby complained, “I’m having a hard time here, Brad. What’s the difference whether...”

          “The difference can be remarkable, Tobe. If your little episode hadn’t occurred, had you gone on to our house, and then had you been in Mom’s mind this afternoon, you would have found her giving you a mercy fuck. She might have let you fiddle around long enough to let lose a load and that would have been it with no real enjoyment in it for her. Now, with her old college buddy in her mind, she might have gotten fucked, as in bells and whistles with an orgasm.”

          “What’s this got to do with offense and defense, Brad? You're not going crazy on me...”

          “Well, listen here. If I’m going on defense, what is likely to be in my mind? All I know is offense. My mind will be filled with offensive stuff. I’m afraid I’ll be letting those guys on the other side of the line fuck me over on every play. I’m getting a little scared about this, Tobe.”

          “So, wouldn’t it be better if you got into their minds a little?”

          “Now you see my point, Tobe. How can I get into their minds? They’ll be seeing me as a guy with no experience on defense. They won’t give me an ounce of respect beyond knowing they’re fucking me over on every play.”

          “Jesus, Brad! You aren’t gonna be that bad! Well... Are you?”

          “Tobe, my problem is like this; I’ve got to become more like you. I've watched you play offense for some time now. You do it on instinct, as if your reactions are predetermined, as if somehow you already know what to do. You do it with a lust for the game that’s strong enough to get into the minds of the guys on the other side. See?”

          “I can do what I do on defense, too, Brad. You’re good enough to do it, too.”

          “That’s my problem right now, Tobe. I don’t believe I'm good enough, not yet. I’ve got to somehow prepare myself better up here, mentally, if I’m to hold down my side of a defensive line.”

          “Wanna borrow my jock strap? What else can I do to help?”

          “I don't know. Knowing's my real problem. The big thing, I suspect, is to learn to be a fucking football player, a fucker like you.”

          “What will it cost me for you to tell a few scouts what you’ve just said, Brad? Well, shit! Even my own mom wouldn’t believe the load you just dumped!”

          “I’m afraid you’ll be seeing the difference on the field, Tobe. That’s where all of this defensive attitude stuff gets real. I’ve got a mind problem as confusing as the difference between servicing and fucking.”

          “Then we’re both fucked, Brad. Ain’t no two ways about it, that being the case.”

          “I’ve confused you now?”

          “Sounds like you’re a little confused, Brad. My little episode this afternoon gave both of our moms fits. Something happened to both of them. They fretted over where I might be, over what may have happened to me. Then learning what they mean to me got them real hot. Didn't I get into their minds that way?”

          “So, Tobe, I walk around the mill pond a few times and that'll do me?”

          “Could be, it's the swim on a cold day in October that does it, Brad.”

          Toby didn't get my thrust, wouldn't accept my admission of fear. I could see I might be wasting my energy pushing on a string about my need for a defensive mindset. Toby didn’t want to pull on his end of that string, so he switched the topic on me.

          “We got a problem about your mom and me, Brad? Are we OK?”

          “I’m more concerned about my ability to play defense, Tobe, but you and me, we’re OK and always will be.”

          “Then we need to get more serious about our football talkin’, old man.”

          Well, I couldn’t have been more serious, but, if Toby’s not with it now, there’s hope for later. I let it go for the time being.

          “Let’s go see if Dad has a weekend's six pack left over, Tobe. If so, then we can sip easy for awhile and maybe come up with some answers.”

          “Right on, old man. Let’s do it.”

          ~

          On the ride back to our place, my mind fell into the child trap. My concerns grew over how my mom and dad might be getting along after they had suffered through the day they had. Real fear fell over me as I left Toby there in my dad’s old car to go find a six pack if I could.

          Well, just inside the hallway of my house, I passed Mom’s and Dad’s bedroom door. They hadn’t bothered to close it all the way so I could easily hear whatever they might be doing in there. I knew they were in there because I heard the hard action of their bedsprings ongoing. Putting the wood to Mom seemed to be Dad’s sincere purpose. I could smell the difference being made out in the hallway. I wondered immediately; who in hell might be fucking who else in there?

          Moving on past their doorway quietly, I walked into the kitchen for a look see. Found a note for me by the telephone. Pauline seemed distressed, Mom said, as in please call back soonest. Hmm. Miss Serendipity wants to put herself in play. I dialed and waited.

          “Pauline?

          “Sure, we can do that. Right now?

          “Need I bring something with me?

          “Got a six pack? We’re out over here.

          “Yeah, I do have a small problem. Toby Smith is over here with me now...

          “You can do him, too?

          “As long as you’re back home by Ten-Thirty? OK. It’s a quarter of Eight now. That should give us enough time, don’t you think?

          “Tobe? Well, if you faked a cherry with him, let him do you first, then you will have made his day complete, Pauline.

          “I agree, fooling around with Tobe is a lot of fun but only until you find him on the football field. Let’s not go to a football field tonight.

          “You have a place? That’s great! We’ll be seeing you in a few minutes!”

          Moments later, as I passed Mom’s and Dad’s doorway again, I heard them both laughing with one another. That realization slowed me down, as if I couldn’t believe it. I listened more and learned it wasn’t a fluke. They were giving off the sounds of lovers, for sure. When I heard the bedsprings cranking back up, I let myself become convinced. My home life might have recently become more fragile but it wasn’t exactly falling apart right then.

          ~

          Toby didn’t believe me when I told him. He didn’t believe me when Pauline ran to my Dad’s old car with a six pack in her hand, either. He still didn’t believe me when Pauline successfully lead us to her favorite parking place. Pauline has a way of getting into a guy’s mind that way, a way as contrary to reality as it can be. Pauline, I’d learned already, has a fairly focused intent about her.

          I thought Pauline blew the cherry busting theme as soon as Toby shoved her body closer to mine after he let her get into the front seat with me. He closed his door and Pauline found her hips compressed between too tough guys, triggering yet another idea, or so I thought likely. Instead, she raised her face to mine, kissed me lightly, and asked as if she might be slightly upset, “Couldn’t you find my panty last night?”

          That question can be taken a couple of ways. I didn’t realize that at first. Toby took it one way and laughed at me for my ineptitude around a girl like Pauline. So, I figured we were still on a cherry busting exercise. To answer Pauline in a way to get things moving along, I replied, “No, but, can you help me find your panty tonight?”

          Pauline turned her head toward Toby. That was her only response to me until a moment later. Toby sat there puzzled about Pauline’s intents, being as unknowing as he can be at times. As I pulled my car to a stop, Pauline lifted her pleasingly plump derriere and placed it in Toby’s lap. She maneuvered about to get her skirt raised high. Then she shucked her panty and, as her response to my question, she tossed her panty into my face. Moving swiftly, she established herself astraddle Toby’s thighs. With a sincere look into Toby’s eyes as she placed her hands at the back of his neck, she cooed softly, “Wanna fuck me?”

          I don’t believe that particular approach of hers necessarily spoke to the issue of Pauline loosing her cherry but then I sensed Toby wasn’t tuned into that frequency right then anyway. They were a study in stark contrast, Pauline in her seriously foregone conclusion, Toby in his wrestle with disbelief. Both of his hands were reaching for her breasts, not in lust nor craving but in patting, touching, testing for the limits of reality. Pauline’s prize value exceeded his wildest imaginings that far.

          The moment Toby mentally grasped his chance broke with the rapid shift of his perception, the gasp of his comprehension, the verbalizations to spell out his full belief. As he began fumbling frantically for for his zipper, he kept braying over and over much as a true jackass might, “Hee hee! Aw, fuck! Hee hee! Aw, fuck! Hee hee! Aw, fuck! Hee hee!”

          Pauline, thrilled with the obvious degree of her impact, grasped Toby’s prick quickly to guide him to her place. She began the moves to get him impaled. Then, as she slowly sank down deep onto him, he fell instantly silent as he rolled his head back in sheer delight.

          I believed one thing for certain right then; Toby enjoyed letting himself get fucked. Pauline took him, reduced his will to resist her, by capturing his mind, causing him to use it to the extent she did. I could see it in his eyes and, well... Elsewhere, too. He lasted another thirty seconds before he let loose within that moment of his ecstasy which she enabled. As he let loose, Pauline, satisfied with her ability to bring Toby such pleasure, turned her head toward me while she motioned with it. She wanted me to move into the back seat of the car where she intended to get it on with me right away.

          Pauline, I could plainly see, would put the icing on my weekend’s six layer cake.

mjohan09