If I Knew Then... by darkness (Teen sex, First-time, Threesome, Incest/female cousins, Voyeurism, Masturbation)


Episode I: A New Hump

Please send comments to: billuvrites@hotmail.com

It was a belief that had smoldered in the back of my mind for years. 
"If I'd just had the savvy and experience I have now when I was back in 
high school, I'd have a hell of a time." And that little girl I was so 
hot for, well, let's just say she wouldn't have been able to send me 
home with world class "blue balls" every time we got together. Yep, I 
wouldn't be that frustrated little Ethan "Pitch" Black I had been in 
school. I would be Pitch, the rebel. The kind of smooth-talking rake 
all the ladies wanted to have. Night after night, I tossed and turned 
in my empty bed. Divorced, childless and stuck in a dead end job, I 
relived the mistakes of my life over and over.  I was especially dogged 
by the notion that I had come up far short of my "sexual potential" as 
a high schooler. Let's face it. I didn't get laid until I was a college 
freshman--second semester. I wasn't some total dork; I was just shy 
with girls. I still think that came from Cammy Langer. (Trust me--this 
is important later.) Cammy was a little hotty. I won't describe her 
physically. Everyone has a Cammy Langer in his or her life. Since 
you're going to visualize your Cammy anyway, I won't interfere with the 
particulars of my own. From the time she was 11 or so, Cammy was 
leading the boys in our class around by the nads. All except me. I 
thought she was a snotty little bitch. Unfortunately, she became part 
of the circle of friends in which I traveled. The guys were all jocks, 
and the girls, all cute and popular. As an average athlete, and with 
only average looks, I didn't quite belong in that clique, but I'd been 
running with that pack of kids since third grade. Cammy moved into our 
town in sixth grade and inserted herself into our group. We clashed 
immediately, and she began to sabotage my standing within the group. 
You remember this kind of shit, right? Junior high "status combat." I 
came in unarmed. I was far too nice, and totally vulnerable. Cammy 
treated me as if I had a horrible stench, and brought her guns to bear 
on anyone who didn't treat me the same. 

She was the Queen B, with the power of a freshly pubescent snatch she 
wasn't afraid to use. She kicked my ass six ways from Sunday, and by 
the time I hit high school, I believed everything she had been selling 
to the masses. As a senior, I finally got something going with Jenny 
Lee Money. She was this beautiful little freshman girl from Maryville, 
the next town up the road. She was popular, but I had special status as 
a decent wrestler from another town. High school girls have always 
believed the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. That, 
coupled with the fact that wrestling was a much bigger deal in her town 
than mine, got me in with this gorgeous girl. We spent my senior year 
in a very romantic relationship that never got beyond the heavy-petting 
stage. Hence, my unverified world's record for consecutive dates ending 
in painful blue balls. Also, I hold a related record for one-handed 
driving as I sought relief on the way home. (If anybody beat my record 
for the former, it's a pretty good bet he also broke the record for the 
latter.)I dwelt on all of this often, too often. And I prayed for an 
opportunity to go back and do it over. I mean I really began to obsess 
about it. 

 That's why I was at least slightly prepared that strange 
morning...There was a heavy, dull thump on my back and shoulders. 

"Hey, fuck-knob! Quit dreaming about that twelve-year-old you're trying 
to fuck, and get up!"

I rolled over slowly. I knew the voice, and I was experiencing deja vu 
like wild. I opened my eyes; there was a black light poster of a Led 
Zeppelin album cover on the ceiling. The air smelled a little funky. 
That was what let me know exactly when and where I was before I even 
looked over at the source of the voice. Only the room I shared with my 
older brother, Jet, ever had that inexplicable smell. Jet was staying 
at home until he got a job that matched up with his brand new college 
degree. After four years of his being away, we actually enjoyed sharing 
that smelly little room.

"She's not twelve, she's fourteen. And I'm not just trying to fuck her-
-I'm trying to fuck all her friends, too," I groaned as I sat up and 
looked around. (In the back of my mind, I knew that I had once answered 
that remark with something about love and respect--Christ, I WAS a 
fucking dork.) I looked at Jet. He was 22, and didn't look all that 
different from what he does now. I always have respected the way he had 
confidence with girls from sixth grade on. But I had never felt like 
his peer, because I had always been this little virgin boy.  But on 
this morning, I reacted like my thirty-something self. 

 "Then after that, I think I'm gonna fuck your girlfriend, big 
brother."

"Cocky little shit, she'd kill ya!"

"What a way to go, hey? Them big old mambos of hers slapping me in the 
face as she fucked the last ounce of life outta me..."

"What the hell, Pitch? Did you grow hair on your balls overnight?"

"Shit, bro, I think I aged fifteen years." I smiled, and thanked 
whatever force had put me here.

Mom interrupted us, and I eagerly got ready for school. It was actually 
a little irritating to me when I realized I didn't have a car yet, but 
it quickly passed. School was a world of opportunity, and I was gonna 
grab it by the ass.

Speaking of ass, I saw quite a few great ones as I walked in the door 
of Windvale High. Most of them were wrapped in skin-tight blue jeans 
adorned with leg-warmers. God, I'd forgotten how tightly high school 
girls are put together. A few sported the resurgent mini-skirt, most 
often coming in red or black leather. I really loved the ones who wore 
colored nylons or tights beneath them. I was afraid I'd stand out for 
staring, but I soon noticed that I was far from the only one.

I was seeing my old school through fresh eyes, and I liked what I saw. 
Everything was the same, but it was so much better than I had 
remembered. There were all the girls I'd lusted for in school, but it 
wasn't these little debutantes that now sent my pulse racing. Those 
"cute" and popular girls I'd worshipped were sure as hell not the only 
sexy ones I saw. As a matter of fact, there were a lot of girls there 
who were not part of my narrow view when I was in school who now struck 
me as being far hotter than Cammy Langer or maybe even my precious 
Jenny Lee Money. I had grown beyond those old boundaries of girls whom 
one can date and girls whom one can't. This was a definite advantage, 
but my behavior prior to this morning would make it difficult to 
initiate any action with these fine little pieces of ass. I would need 
to build some bridges.

I also realized I had a few other problems. Amazingly, I remembered my 
locker combo (31-14-10.) I didn't have the slightest fucking clue, 
however, as to which locker was mine. I knew it was between Mrs. 
People's room and Mr. Crane's. That narrowed it down to about twenty 
identical lockers. Thankfully, Cammy Langer solved that problem for me. 
As I walked down the hall, I noticed a big hand-written marker scrawl 
on one of the lockers, "I'm a big dork!" It said.

Ah, it was that morning! OK, I could deal with that. I remember that 
message had upset me greatly on that particular morning so many years 
ago. It was the morning Cammy had decided to redouble her efforts to 
undermine my status. It had been rising lately. I had really come on in 
the second half of football season. (I would eventually get myself 
named to honorable mention all-conference as a defensive back.) Plus, I 
had been seen everywhere lately with Jenny Lee, and she turned a lot of 
the boys' heads. I had been feeling pretty good about myself for the 
first time in a while. So, Cammy had scrawled those words on my locker 
and put me right back in my place-as she saw it. Today, however, it was 
a helpful frame of reference as far as where I was at in my life, (and 
also as to which was my locker.)

I smiled and put my stuff into my locker, noting the picture of Lea 
Thompson on the inside of the door. She had won my heart as Lisa 
Litzky, Tom Cruise's virginal girlfriend in All the Right Moves. I 
grabbed my first-hour stuff, and then turned my attention to the spot 
at the end of the hall where Cammy was standing with two of her maids-
in-waiting and Gerard, her jock of the moment. I smiled and walked up 
to her. She assumed her best "stuck-up" position.

"Thanks for the adjective, Cammy."

"What?"

"Adjective, a part of speech which describes a noun. In this case, 
'big'."

"You make no sense at all, dork."

"There it is again. You see, 'dork' means penis. You seem to equate me 
with a big one, which is both kind and accurate. I'm glad you think of 
a big penis every time you see me. It's down to here, actually," I 
touched my inseam just above the knee, "But you already knew that, 
didn't you?"

"Go away, you little fuckin' creep!" She was confused and a little 
scared of my newfound aggressiveness.

"Yea, Pitch, get the fuck outta here or I'll kick your ass!" Gerard 
stepped in close. He towered over me by about five inches.

"Ya know what, Gerard? You're gonna turn out to be a really good shit 
in about five years, but right now you've got your nose so far up this 
little girl's snatch that you are totally fuckin' useless as a human 
being. So, step the fuck off me before I take your nutsack and feed it 
to my dog!" I dropped my books and rolled my tongue around the inside 
of my cheek in an arrogant tease.

The big kid just shook his head like I was crazy and essentially 
forcing him to beat some sense into me. Which, I guess I was. It wasn't 
fair to tempt him into a fight, but I was going to have to establish 
myself as a force to be reckoned with. I just knew that this time 
around, I couldn't take any shit from anybody, or they'd eat me alive. 
Especially since there was no way I was going to fit in, being a 
thirty-three-year-old in the body of a seventeen-year-old a decade and 
a half in my past. (Got all that?) So, although I had nothing against 
this Gerard, he was the one who happened to be doing Cammy's meat work 
this morning, and I was going to have to kick his ass. In the fifteen 
years to come, I would lose a lot of bar fights before I gained the 
ability to be truly nasty. I would also spend years studying mixed 
forms martial arts, with karate and Brazilian jiu jitsu comprising the 
backbone of my skills. Now, those fighting skills would be added to the 
baby rattlesnake quickness of my high school self. Strong though Gerard 
was, he was never tremendously quick. Now that I knew how to hurt 
him...

He swung at me first, because I wanted him to. I knocked it aside with 
a left-hand outside forearm block. I stepped inside his extended arm 
and hit him in the solar plexus with an elbow. His breath left him in a 
rush, and he was already essentially beaten. As he bent forward, I 
caught his head and locked my left wrist in my right hand behind his 
neck to keep his face at waist level. I brought my right knee into the 
middle of his face. I held him in place, or he would have slumped at my 
feet. I looked at Cammy, "This one's for you, bitch!" I snapped at her, 
and then brought my knee up again. I didn't want to seriously injure 
Gerard, so I actually brought the knee into his chest and lifted his 
upper body with my thigh. It wouldn't really hurt him, but it would 
look really cool. He went over backwards, and sprawled out on the 
floor, bleeding profusely from his nose and mouth. I knelt over him and 
stage-whispered for dramatic effect. "Listen, to me! You fell down the 
steps. That way, we don't have to bring up that you swung first, or 
that your little cumcatcher here tagged my fuckin' locker. Got it, 
bitch?"

Gerard nodded. Then he bled some more.

"Oh my nose! Oh my nose!" I said, imitating Marcia Brady. I laughed and 
picked up my books. As I turned to walk down the hall, I saw Josie Lara 
leaning nonchalantly on the lockers across the hall and staring at me. 
She was dressed "punk." She wore a tacky black vinyl vest that clung 
nicely to her tits while opening far enough to give up some decent 
cleavage. Her spiked hair was tinted purple, and her eye make-up was 
extremely thick. Her nose ring was actually a baby pin, but it looked 
pretty damn good to me. Her parents were the kind of folks who "knew 
people" in the state capital, and they had actually brought in an ACLU 
lawyer to protect Josie's right to dress as she wanted. I'd thought she 
was just being a pain when I was in school. Now, I admired her 
individuality, and I also admired the fucking rock-hard legs sticking 
out of her vinyl skirt.

"Damn! That almost made it worth the time to come to this fucking 
place!" she exclaimed as our eyes met. I'd never really seen those big 
green beauties when I knew her.

"Shit, you look fucking hot!" I said as I paused momentarily to admire 
her ensemble. "Absolutely fuckin' love it!" She growled playfully as I 
walked away and headed to class. But I had a pretty good idea what I 
was doing for lunch.

I sat with her at lunch the next few days and we had conversations 
based on what I remembered about the Sex Pistols and the nuances 
between Punk and New Wave. We talked about school, which she really 
hated. I explained to her why I played sports, and she really seemed to 
understand boys' need for rough play. I enjoyed every minute I spent 
with her. And I knew we were on course for some damn hot action pretty 
soon.

Other than our lunches, I had plenty of other fun. I had a blast at 
football practice. It was a bye week, and we got to put in a new 
defense, which helped me cover up that I had forgotten some (but not 
much) of the old one.  I talked to Jenny Lee every night on the phone, 
and I was beginning to remember how to push her buttons. I had her 
pretty hot to see me even though she couldn't do so that coming 
weekend, and I was certain that I would be getting some of her sweet 
pussy pretty damn soon. I had even more fun "monkeywrenching" the 
system at school.

In a class meeting, I nominated, Charlen Flagg, the girl who was 
president of the math club, for homecoming queen. Our class advisor was 
Mrs. Easter, one of those teachers who had totally bought into the 
cliques and status games in the school. She got all upset when I made 
the nomination. And right there in front of everyone, she accused me of 
playing a cruel joke by nominating Charlen. I mean this girl was 
sitting there with the whole fucking class around her and this stupid 
cunt of a teacher declares that nominating her to be elected by popular 
vote has to be a joke. "Mr. Black, I think it's cruel of you to put 
Charlen up against Cammy and the other girls," she scolded.

"Why?" I raised my voice a little sharper than I should have to a 
teacher, but I was out of practice. "Everybody likes Charlen. She has 
never done or said a cruel thing to anyone in this whole class. I think 
a lot of people would rather see her up there than the same girls who 
have been running every dance since junior high!"

"Well!" She shook her head haughtily as she spoke, "If those girls and 
I haven't been doing a good enough job for you, young man, I am sure we 
are terribly sorry. But I think you will find the rest of your 
classmates understand how these things work."

"They work," I said rather dryly, "how we decide they work, ma'am, 
provided we don't break school rules."

"Please!" a desperate girl's voice rang out. I turned; it was Charlen. 
Her slender hands were shaking, and her lower lip quivered slightly. 
She had the pale skin to match her beautiful red hair, but right now it 
was crimson with embarrassment. Her kind blue eyes, hidden behind the 
big round glasses popular at the time, were tearing up. "Please, 
Pitch," she continued softly. "Don't use me to make a point. I don't 
belong up there with all those beautiful girls."

"Shoot," I snorted a little, because I found her self-image so 
misguided as to be laughable.  "You are beautiful, Charlen. Ten years 
from now, when we have our reunion, you are going to show up in a brand 
new Mustang.  You'll be looking all glamorous, and half the guys here 
will spend the first hour of the night trying to figure out who you 
are, and the rest of the night trying to figure out how they missed you 
in high school. Charlen, you are beautiful." I wasn't exactly 
predicting the future. I'd seen her walk in that night. "And I'm sorry, 
but I think smart girls are really sexy."

"Me too," some guy added from the back.

"You know what, Char? You are kind of a fox," the boy behind her said, 
seeming to just realize it for the first time.

"I always thought so," somebody else added.

I looked at Charlen, whose tears were now freely flowing from a 
combination of surprise, embarrassment and long overdue pride in 
herself. "Don't let anybody exclude you from anything, girl. You are 
the real deal," I whispered.

Her best friend, Molly, stared at me for a moment. She and I had a 
little bit of history, but we had also done a lot of theatre work 
together. I motioned with my hand for her to do something. She leapt to 
her feet and shouted, "I second the nomination!"

"Moved and seconded!" I declared. "The nomination stands!"

"Charlen?" Mrs. Easter raised an eyebrow, still hoping to intimidate 
her into withdrawing the nomination.

"I think I'll do it, Mrs. Easter," Charlen said, smiling through her 
tears. "It might be fun."

It was a good meeting. Now, I just had to figure out how to help 
Charlen win. Actually, what the hell? People liked her and secretly 
hated Cammy. Since it was a secret ballot, Charlen would do just fine.

At lunchtime, I rushed down to see Josie. I had a good feeling about 
today.

She looked at me strangely as I sat down. "I heard about what you did 
in your meeting this morning."

"Yea," I shrugged my shoulders, "It was a spur of the moment kind of 
thing."

"You know what?" She smiled at me so sweetly. "At first I thought maybe 
you were being nice to me and acting different from the way you were 
before just to try and get laid, but now I see that you really are 
serious about busting up some of the cliques around here. I've decided 
that you really are everything I hoped you were."

I was glad to hear it. I did like the role I'd taken on as the guy who 
was fucking up the machinery on which the school was run. I smiled at 
her and shrugged my shoulders.

"So?" she said, raising her eyebrows to indicate she was expecting 
something more from me.

"Oh! Oh, shit yeah!" I said, now taking her meaning. "I got a place, 
unless you have one."

"Lay on, MacDuff," she said.

"Shakespeare and a double entendre? I am impressed, woman."

I took her to a place I'd found when I'd helped the coach stow the 
football equipment. I figured she'd bitch about the smell as we passed 
by the cages of shoulder pads and practice jerseys, but I also knew 
that once we got going, the excess of masculine odor was gonna drive 
her crazy. Pheromones and all that shit. Right next to the cages was a 
very narrow little door that looked like it just gave access to some 
fuse boxes, but if you slipped past those, it opened into a little 
passageway behind the cages. Someone had piled some old band uniforms 
in this space. Romantic? Not exactly. A good place to fuck each other's 
brains out? Oh, yes. Very much yes. Did I say yes?

She started kissing me feverishly, and I put my hands on her ass and 
slid them up the back of her skirt. I got my thumbs hooked on the 
waistband of her panties. They weren't even half an inch wide at the 
sides. I began to slide them slowly off of her ass.

Her hands shot down from the back of my head to my hands. She slid my 
thumbs off of her panties, and put her own inside them. Then she jerked 
quickly on the thinnest part of the fabric. They snapped nicely, and 
fell to the floor between her feet. She bent down and picked them up. 
She stuffed them into my front pocket, and began massaging my hard-on 
while she was in there. I was so stoked up that I almost forgot my 
years of experience and came right there. I probably could have and 
kept right on going. I was in a seventeen-year-old body. But I didn't 
want to blow my wad so fast on a first "date."

I grabbed her by the backs of the thighs and lifted, almost like I was 
doing a double-leg takedown. I tossed her onto her back on top of all 
the band uniforms. I wasn't all that gentle about it, either, and it 
was obvious that she liked it like that. I dove right in on her pussy, 
nipping and sucking at it. I took a little more hair than I would have 
preferred, but it didn't phase Josie at all. She was moaning really 
loudly, and damn near pulling my hair out as she began rubbing my face 
up and down her cunt. She smelled sweet, and as my tongue found her 
opening, I was surprised by how tight she was. Then I realized that 
despite her fervor, she was only sixteen, and although she was strong 
and rough, she was probably not all that experienced. I pulled my head 
up and unzipped her leather jacket. It was all she was wearing on top. 
Two nice grapefruit size tits with thin pointy nipples popped out. I 
caught one between my lips and then rolled it with the tip of my 
tongue. She screamed! I didn't worry about it. Even if somebody was 
down in the basement, they couldn't figure out where the sound was 
coming from in the maze of hallways that had been altered by many 
additions over the years. I bit at her nipple a little, and she started 
pounding her forearms into my sides. Even as an adult, I'd never been 
with a girl this rough. I fuckin' loved it. 

"You are totally wild, girl!" I laughed. "I can't wait to fuck you."

"Do it! Do it! Take my cherry! Fuck me hard!"

"Cherry?" I gasped in surprise. I didn't mean for it to come out.

"I've wanted to fuck since I was twelve," she panted, "but none of the 
boys around here ever turned me on until you."

"Wow! OK...OK..." I hadn't popped a cherry for a while... "This will 
hurt a little bit."

"Pitch, shut the fuck up and do it! Hard!"

I dropped my jeans and mounted her, driving my dick into her tight, hot 
pussy. It was wet and sloppy from my work before, and my hard-on 
navigated the lips without getting turned aside. I followed her 
directions and just rammed it into her. I almost bent on the cherry, 
but I pushed through. She gasped and clawed into my back, but I just 
pulled back out a little and then really went to work on her. I pumped 
like crazy, and she rocked back and forth with each of the strokes that 
drove deep up inside her. There were tears of pain smearing her make-
up, but she was totally into the act, flailing around and trying to 
figure out what to do with her arms and mouth. She beat and bit me for 
a few minutes before I realized that I was about to cum. I took a 
couple more strokes and then ripped it out of her cunt and brought it 
up to her face. I splattered her face with a few blobs and then drained 
the rest on her tits. I thought I was done for a moment, but my dick 
never softened at all. It's good to be the kid!

"Oh god," she whispered. "It hurts."

"Wanna stop?"

"No," she groaned. "I want more!"

"Get on your knees then, you horny little slut."

"Alright, you nasty bastard. But order me around too much and I'll rip 
your nuts off."

"Damn, Josie. You are fabulous!"

"What now?"

"Face the cage, and grab hold."

"Are you going up my ass?"

"Not today...Soon though. You do want to do this again, right?"

"Oh, yea."

"Good." I grabbed her by her spikey purple hair, and held her head up 
while I rammed my slippery dick into her cunt from behind. She actually 
pulled down with her head to make it hurt a little more. She growled 
now as my hips slapped against her hard muscular ass, and she kept 
grinding her hips every which way to find the best spot. It was a wild 
ride, and I thought that she was going to snap the little guy right off 
one time when she dropped her hips real hard. I slapped her across the 
back of her head for that, and she laughed. She was glad to give out a 
little of the rough stuff I'd been giving her. She came in this 
position, often. At least three times while I was pumping her.

And imagine my thrill at realizing that my body was in good enough 
shape to keep slamming it to her as long as she could take it! It was 
easy to get deeper without the little "front porch" above my belt, too. 
In my entire life, I had never both been able to give it this hard and 
find someone who wanted it that way. Our bodies were dripping with 
sweat, and added to the odor from all the athletic equipment, we were 
going crazy. I kept sliding further and further up, and pretty soon I 
had her curled up against the fence of the cage while I grabbed it and 
hammered away. It was frenetic and surreal. I started going into that 
place where sex and violence mix a little too easily, and I was afraid 
I might hurt her unintentionally. Thankfully, I felt that familiar 
pressure begin to build up, so I just kept slamming into her, knowing 
it would be over soon. I pulled out and came all over her back as she 
lay curled up in an exhausted ball. Just then, the bell to start fifth 
period rang.

We both tried to laugh but were breathing too heavily. I curled her up 
into my arms, and spooned around behind her as I pulled her onto her 
side. We talked for almost an hour, and missed two classes. But we 
found a place where we both were happy to leave things for now. I did 
not want a girlfriend in my first week "back." And Josie detested the 
ways boys acted like they owned their girlfriends. So, we agreed to see 
each other whenever the urge struck us, and admitted that the urge was 
likely to strike pretty fuckin' often. Not only because we were hot for 
one another, but because we each really liked the other's company.

By the time I got around to getting to class, it was already seventh 
hour, phys ed. The teacher was my wrestling coach-a really good shit.  
When he saw me changing, he called me into the office.

"That little girl really worked you over," he laughed as he indicated 
my scratches and bite marks.

"She's tough. She could probably win the conference at 119."

"Probably..." wheels turned in his head for a moment, "Naw, she'd never 
keep training rules."

"She might if you convinced her it was a worthy cause. She has a lot of 
character. But I'm not sure she could keep from biting people!"

Coach nodded and chuckled a little. "Alright, look. We aren't even 
gonna talk about Gerard's nose the other day. He's just a pumpkin-
pushin' basketball boy anyway. But you have to get yourself to classes 
from now on. I told the office that you twisted your back helping me 
move some mats during noon hour, and I was keeping you here to be safe. 
I'd heard from some of the guys that you slipped out of the cafeteria 
with Josie after lunch, and I figured you'd be gone for a while. I 
won't cover for you often, but you're a good kid, and you never screwed 
up before. So, I thought you deserved a break. Besides, I didn't want 
you to get suspended; you've got the game against Maryville next week. 
Don't suit up for class today. Your back is hurt, remember?"

"Thanks, coach."

"Hey, first time, huh?"

"Yea," I smiled crookedly, "I guess it was."

"Well what a way to break in. I can't understand why the boys aren't 
all over her. She is really hot."

"She's different."

"Yea, I suppose. That's a big deal at your age, isn't it? Someday, when 
you get to be my age, you'll wonder why you didn't go after all the 
'different' girls you could find."

"No, I won't, Coach. I'm gonna try to get 'em all while there right 
here in front of me. Besides, Coach, I feel like I am your age."

"Oh my, they get it one time and they think they're old hands! Get 
outta my office and put your clothes on. Oh, Pitch, by the way, I think 
you're wrong about trying to wrestle at 138 this year. Go for 145 and 
let yourself eat a little."

Each day was providing me with the opportunity to fix all kind of 
mistakes. I'd spent half that season starving to keep weight at 138 and 
wasn't effective there anyway because I was exhausted all the time. I 
finally went up to 145 and wrestled a little better. More importantly, 
I felt better.  "You were right about that all along, Coach. 145 it 
is!" I went out and got dressed.

Gerard stopped by my locker as I was buttoning my shirt. I stayed calm, 
but didn't let myself get careless. He was a big boy, and fairly tough. 
Besides, I wasn't gonna surprise him this time.

"That shit you said about me and Cammy," he said softly. "You were 
right. She gets me to act like a jerk and be mean to people. I should 
know better, hey?"

"Shit, Gerard. It's fucking hard to not be a prick in high school. 
You're gonna be alright. I guarantee it. Pax?" I held out my hand.

"Packs?"

"It's Latin, means 'peace.'"

"Oh. Yea. I'm okay." He shook my hand. "When did you learn Latin?"

"In college, um-uh-my big brother took it and taught me some shit."

"Fuckin' A, cool, man. Later."

"Later."

I passed the rest of the school week without major incident. Football 
practice was a trip at first. I was a little lost at times, but I was 
hitting more ferociously than ever. I also kept a promise to myself 
that if I ever went back, I would really push it in the weight room. It 
took some extra time, but I had plenty of it. I never sat and watched 
TV. It was all shows like Family Ties. I'd seen them all as reruns 
years ago (or "years from now," whichever.)

I was feeling really good about myself by Thursday of the next week. 
Football practice was just a walk-through and we were out by 4:30. I 
skipped the weights because of the game against Maryville the next 
night. I took the extra time to stop on the way home from practice and 
chat up a couple of girls who lived a block over. Michelle and Amy 
McKenzie were part of a group of kids that liked fast cars and bands 
like Iron Maiden, Def Leppard and Quiet Riot. I wanted to see Michelle 
because we would grow close in the not-too-distant future. I worked 
with her at a restaurant every summer. We always joked around, but 
never hung out. The summer after Michelle and I graduated, I helped her 
out when she was having a tough time coming to grips with her brother 
Gary's death in a car accident. Michelle was to become the first girl 
outside of the "nice girl" clique for whom I really developed romantic 
feelings. Not that she was a bad girl, either. It's just that she 
wasn't middle class or terribly interested in school. Until I was with 
her, I'd never thought about the possibility of dating girls whose home 
life wasn't pretty damn similar to my own. She opened my eyes to a lot 
of possibilities. The timing was all wrong, of course, and she needed a 
friend more than a lover. Nothing had ever come of it more than a few 
make-out sessions after work. Still, Michelle was very important to me, 
so I took the time to seek her out.

I found them sitting in lawnchairs by the driveway, drinking Old 
Milwaukee and listening to Quiet Riot's Metal Health and singing the 
"girls fuck your boys" lyrics of "Come on Feel the Noise." What struck 
me at first was that it was such a guy thing to do. What struck me 
second was that guys should love hanging out with girls who do the same 
things they do, but there wasn't a guy in sight. I thought that maybe 
it had to do with the fact that the McKenzie girls were a little bit 
round and soft. I don't mean they were fat. They just were a little 
more heavyset than average. Both had long, "bottle blonde" hair, and 
pretty brown eyes. They looked pretty damn good to me. Come to think of 
it, there were boys all over Michelle at school. (Amy had graduated 
this past May.) I guessed I was just lucky to find them alone.

They acted a little weird at first, not knowing why I had gone out of 
my way to stop and chat, but they were willing to talk about the rumors 
they had heard that I had nominated Charlen and beat up Gerard all in 
one week. I downplayed it all, and they thought that was cool on my 
part. I wasn't trying to score, here, but I wanted to lay some 
groundwork and build some bridges. Something far stranger than that, 
happened, however. Gary pulled into the driveway. He got out of his 
black Javelin and slammed the door. He walked right over to us, looking 
distrustfully at me the whole time. "He buggin' you?" he asked pointing 
a long, greasy finger at me. His long brown hair hung well past his 
shoulders, but his beard was neatly trimmed. He was absolutely 1977 in 
a 1983 world. As I looked at him now, pointing at me with a fierce 
glint in his eye, he looked like an angry Jesus.

"Fuck off, Gary," Michelle answered. "He's a friend from work. He's 
really nice."

"Jock Boy, here? Okay, if you say so, he's nice. Hey, Jock Boy, wanna 
come inside and catch a buzz?"

I had the biggest game of my life the next night, and in high school I 
would have turned him down flat. But a few years of experience and 
plenty of faith in my own ability to draw the line led me to realize 
that the big Friday game and the little Thursday buzz were not mutually 
exclusive. "Cool." I said.

We went inside. Their parents were at a bar-all of the time-and Gary 
kind of ran the place. He was twenty. As he went into his room to get 
his stash, I sat down on the worn-out loveseat, right next to Michelle. 
Amy raised her eyebrows, but didn't say anything. I leaned over to 
Michelle. "This game I got tomorrow is a big deal. His stash ain't 
laced with any serious shit, is it?"

"No," she shook her head. "Gary hates hard drugs. He don't even drink. 
He just likes to toke a little." I knew she was telling the truth. I 
now remembered some of the things she hadn't told me about him yet. (I 
was kind of becoming amused by the paradoxes of going back in time.) 
Everyone had said Gary was drunk when he crashed, but all the tests 
showed no alcohol or no drugs in his system. He just went a little too 
fast in that damn Javelin.

Gary hooked Michelle and me up with a joint. Amy got us each a beer, 
sat down next to Gary on the couch and we started "shootin' the shit." 
We had fun. The most relaxed and casual conversation I'd had with 
anyone since I'd come "back from the future," a reference which would 
have been wasted on anyone I'd meet for the next two years. I now had 
an agenda however. I worked the conversation around to cars.

"That fuckin' Jav is a beauty, Gary."

"It was a piece of shit before we rebuilt it," he said.

"We?" I asked.

"My baby sisters do more than drink beer and look good. They got right 
in there and tore the fuckin' engine apart. Goddamn man, it was 
something to see!"

"Thanks, big bro," Amy said, and hugged him. It was the first time I 
caught the vibe. The way we were sitting, it had seemed totally 
natural. Michelle and I were pairing off and Amy and Gary-holy fuck! 
They were so comfy that it hadn't even struck me until she called him, 
big bro. Then, I saw it real clearly. Gary and Amy were lovers. I 
suddenly had a boner as big as Indiana. It was so taboo! God-damn! I 
was really fuckin' juiced. I put my arm around Michelle and smiled, 
trying to make it look like I was turned on by her mechanical skills. 
Which was actually true as well. I had to hold off on my excitement for 
just a few more minutes, however. I had one more thing to do.

"So, how much you want for it?"

"Shit, Jock Boy, you came over to buy my car?"

"No! I came over because you have two gorgeous sisters, one of whom is 
my favorite person at work. I never thought about the car until you 
drove up in it. But I ain't yankin' yer chain. How much for the Jav?"

He took a long pull on the joint he was sharing with Amy. He held it in 
to let it do its magic, but also as a manner of getting the world to 
stop while he reasoned out a price. Car guys will almost always sell a 
car, because they always have their eye on another. "Shit man," he 
said, the smoke curling out of his mouth as he spoke. "I wasn't even 
thinkin' about sellin' it, but this guy up in Maryville has a '69 
Camaro I could fix up that he'd sell me for a song if I had cash."

"Well," I laughed. "It's gonna be cash. I can't get a loan and I don't 
even have a fucking checking account yet!"

"$1200."

"Psh-sh-sh. $600."

He surprised me with a pretty decent Don Corleone impersonation, "You 
come into a man's house, and in front of his family you insult him with 
this offer. It is only because you are such good friends with my dear 
sister that I give you this counter-offer. $1,000."

I countered with my own impersonation of the Godfather, "We are both 
businessmen, here, you and I. And it seems that a reasonable compromise 
can be reached. I will give you $900, and we will call this matter 
closed."

Amy whispered in his ear. He nodded. He looked at Michelle. She looked 
at me. Then, she nodded. "When can you get me the money?"

"I can get to the bank tomorrow after school; we don't have practice 
because of the game. Hell, I can pick it up tomorrow around 4:30."

"You just bought a fuckin' car, Jock Boy!" He reached out and shook my 
hand. I was so fuckin' happy that I couldn't contain myself. I pumped 
my fists a few times and did a little dance. "Happy about it are ya?" 
Gary laughed, and flipped his long hair back over his shoulder. I just 
grinned. I just bought this guy's life back for $900, the sum total of 
all my savings in the world. I looked over at Michelle. She was shaking 
her head. I looked at Amy and Gary together. They were perfect.

"Ya know, Gary. Your sister is just so fuckin' beautiful!" Amy giggled 
and blushed. "Oh, you really are, Amy. But Michelle here is the one I 
came to see. Would you mind if she and I went somewhere, to talk?"

"Shit man, she's old enough to know her own mind. Ask her."

"Could we go somewhere, Michelle?"

"Yea, Pitch. I'd like that." She stood up and took my hand. As we left 
the living room, she turned and looked back at Amy. I couldn't see it, 
but I know she did the exact same eyebrow raise her sister had done 
when I sat next to her.

Michelle took me to her room. It was clean and neat compared to the one 
I shared with my brother. It was decorated with a lot of the classic 
rock band posters: Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Peter Frampton, that usually 
were found only in boys rooms. There were none of the Loverboy or Air 
Supply posters that most of the girls preferred. She did have a REO 
Speedwagon poster, but it was from the pre Hi Infidelity album days. I 
really liked this girl. She flipped on the radio and sat down next to 
me on the bed. I was wondering how I was going to start the 
conversation. Michelle started it. "It doesn't bother you."

"What?"

"Yea, 'what?' asshole. Amy and Gary. You got all hard when you caught 
on. I could see your crotch bulge. It didn't bother you though."

"Well, it's a love thing, right?"

"Oh, hell, yea."

"He wasn't...when she was just a little girl?"

"No, it's only been since she graduated. It's kind of like they're 
married."

"Did you?" I shouldn't have asked, but I had to know. It might have 
explained a lot of things that she kind of half-said the summer Gary 
died. I never would have guessed it the first time around.

"Well...They didn't want me to feel left out. We all...for a while. But 
they were in love and I was just...ya know...foolin' around. And I was 
afraid the guys at school might find out. It just got in the way of 
everything. I still never have guys over."

"Well, Christ, Michelle. It's not any of my business. They seem really 
happy together. Sure it's a little kinky, but I like kinky."

"You're different," she said, looking at me very intently.

"I feel a lot older," I said, laughing at the truth of it. Then, the 
joy of the whole afternoon set in on me and I got hysterically happy 
again. I lay back on her bed and laughed for a little bit. Then I 
whooped out of joy.

"Maybe Gary did lace that joint with something," she laughed, caught in 
my aura of joy. She lay down next to me. She traced something with a 
finger across my chest. "Why did you come here?"

"To see you," I said honestly. "I missed you. Seems like forever since 
we talked...I mean, ya know. We had fun at work all the time. Why does 
it have to be different at school?"

"Just is," she said. "Just is." That brought those clique issues back 
into our world, and she started to turn away.

I caught her arm and didn't let her roll away. I looked into her sweet 
brown eyes. "It doesn't have to be that way, anymore. Be my friend, 
Michelle. I didn't come here to try and seduce you. And, I didn't come 
here because I had to profess some undying love for you, although I do 
think you're pretty hot. I came here because I want you to be a part of 
my life, somehow."

"Oh?" she said, "Casual sex?"

"Lots of other possibilities...How about friends?"

Michelle was quiet for a little while. She rolled onto her back. She 
stared at the full-length Robert Plant poster that hung on the ceiling 
over the bed. I didn't disturb her. Then she rolled back over to me. I 
had rolled over onto on my back as well, not wanting to stare at her 
while she made her decision. She kissed me very gently. Not 
passionately at first, it was more of an experiment than an invitation. 
She couldn't decide what to do with me until all the data was gathered. 
I responded, focusing on the warm sentiment between us and holding on 
to that more than the sexual arousal rising up in my loins. After a few 
minutes we both stopped, and looked at each other. Wordlessly, an 
agreement was made. There was no more experimentation or interpreting 
data. (Although in a related study some years later, it would be 
determined that most teenage sex takes place between three and six PM 
on the weekdays. I can buy that.) I rolled on top of her soft body, and 
felt its incredible warmth beneath me.

I still had some frustration because I had never gotten any physical 
action from this girl the first time around. With all the subtlety of a 
lonesome German Shepherd, I began to hump her through our clothes. I 
went at it for almost half a minute, before I realized that I wanted 
this to be something sweeter than that. I stopped and looked down at 
her. Her pale skin was flushed red, and she was breathing heavily. I 
slowly began to kiss her neck. She responded to the change of pace by 
softly whispering, "That's nice." 

I sat up and took my plaid shirt off, and then she gently lifted 
herself up so that I could remove her Iron Maiden T-shirt. Her pale 
round shoulders were lightly freckled. Her bosom was fairly large, 
appropriate for her heavyset frame. Her bra was a simple off-white. I 
removed it as I nuzzled and kissed her in her cleavage. She lay back 
down, and I resumed kissing her all over her upper body. I trailed my 
finger over her curves several times, never in quite the same pattern. 
I returned to her mouth and kissed her tenderly.

Without breaking the kiss, I slid off to her side and unzipped her 
jeans, sliding my hand slowly into the warm tangles of hair beneath her 
white cotton panties. Easing their way through the steamy tangle of 
soft, dark pubic hair, my fingers found her tender labia. I worked 
slowly around the outside area of her pleasingly soft and wet pussy. It 
was a relaxing and thoroughly pleasing moment for both of us. But 
finally, her body began to tire of the gentle teasing, and her hips 
began to reach for something else. I slid down to the end of the bed, 
and pulled her jeans off of her round hips and long legs. I could smell 
her sweetness on my hand, and the lustier energy with which I had 
humped her began to return, but this time it was controlled by the 
pleasure brought to us by the slow tempo we had set. I removed my 
jeans, and carefully crawled back onto the bed, bringing my face up 
between her legs and pausing for just a moment to kiss her sweet pussy.

Then, I settled in on top of my lovely friend, Michelle. I kissed her 
gently, and gazing into her beautiful brown eyes, slowly slid myself up 
inside of her hot channel. She was moist and receptive. She was not a 
finger-tight virgin, but she still had some youthful grip. The 
lovemaking was lingeringly slow and overwhelmingly comfortable. Not 
comfortable in the matter of being routine, but comfortable in the 
manner of, "this person we trust, we care about, we want to please." 
There were plenty of soft moans and whispered names, but there was no 
thrashing about, no throaty cries of animal lust. It was as sweet a 
session of lovemaking as I had ever had in any lifetime. And after she 
had a silent, powerful orgasm, she clutched me tightly and whispered, 
"Go ahead, Pitch. I'm okay." I took a few more long strokes, each one 
bringing me closer to the ecstatic moment of release. On about the 
fourth or the fifth, I could feel the rush bursting from inside me. I 
pushed as far up inside my sweet Michelle as I could, and I let it all 
pour out of me. Each wave seemed to take my breath away, and I finally 
collapsed on top of her warm soft body. After a moment I rolled off of 
her and began to stroke her blond hair, kissing the ends softly. She 
snuggled against me.

I wrapped my arms around her and held her for several minutes. We did 
not speak, and we did not initiate any attempts to have intercourse 
again. We were both happy, and we saw no reason to mess with it. I 
could feel something building inside her for a few moments, and 
Michelle ultimately broke the silence with a giggle. 

"What?" I asked.

"A new advertisement for used cars," she said. "Buy a car! Get a 
blonde!" She giggled and snuggled back in by me. But now she had broken 
the spell that bound us in silent reverie. I began to tickle her, and 
we wound up chasing each other around the room in a pillow fight. The 
laughter and the giggling went on for several minutes, and when we 
stopped, I got dressed, and she walked me to the door. I kissed her 
tenderly, knowing we would share ourselves again. I slid my letter 
jacket back on and headed for home.

It was not quite six PM. In just over an hour I had bought the car that 
took a man's life and made love to a wonderful girl whom I had 
cherished for years. It was a good day, and I was definitely glad to be 
back. So far, I had every reason to be hopeful. I was making the most 
of my second chance. I had no idea of the dark forces gathering against 
me.

*** No purple-haired chicks or pumpkin-pushin' basketball boys were 
harmed during production of this episode. ***


Episode II: Cammy Langer Strikes Back

It was just past six on a beautiful Thursday night in October when I 
returned from my beautiful experiences at the McKenzie house. Our own 
house was empty when I got inside. My mom had left a note. "Went out to 
dinner since you were so late getting back. Your girlfriend called, 
she's staying at her cousins' house in town for tonight. Do her parents 
always let her stay out of town on a school night? You should call her. 
Have you seen Jet? He left for his girlfriend's house two days ago and 
hasn't come back. Love, Mom."

"Dear Mom, I hope you had a nice dinner. I am going to call Jenny Lee 
and will be at her cousins' house by the time you get home. As for 
Jenny Lee getting permission from her parents, she pretty much gets 
them to let her do anything she wants to do. But she's just coming to 
town because Windvale plays Maryville in our homecoming game tomorrow 
night, and she wants to hang out with her cousin and get ready for the 
dance. As for my big brother, if you were a twenty-two-year old man and 
had a girlfriend like that, would you come home every night? Love, 
Pitch."

I called Jenny Lee and she seemed very anxious to have me get right 
over, but I told her I had to take a shower first. She thought it was 
because I hadn't showered after football practice and my weight room 
work, but it was actually because I smelled like I had just smoked a 
joint and had incredible sex with a full-figured blonde. (There was a 
fairly logical explanation for smelling that way.) I showered, grabbed 
a quick sandwich, stole something from my brother and then headed for 
her cousins' house at the very edge of town.

I was really quite anxious to see her. It had been almost fifteen years 
(to me,) and although I had some resentment about her never giving in 
to me, I was still fond of this beautiful, luscious little girl. 
Besides, I had a plan for this little one. I saw her sitting out on the 
porch of her cousins' house. The house was actually only "in town" on 
the front side, and it was completely enshrouded in forest behind. She 
got up from the porch and she moved quickly to meet me. I was amazed to 
see how young she was. We were three years apart in school, and I was 
seventeen. She was only fourteen. I was then reassured that my plan was 
the right way to go.

I was mesmerized by her beauty. She had shoulder length dark hair, and 
a very girlish little body. She didn't have the legginess or any of the 
strong features of Josie. Nor did she have the voluptuous bust of 
Michelle. Instead, she had a cute little angel face with big chocolate 
brown eyes. She had almost no ass at all, but she still managed to find 
skintight jeans. Normally, it was a sign of desperation for a senior to 
date a freshman girl, but every senior boy in Maryville was after Jenny 
Lee, and I was especially hated-and respected-for being the Windvale 
boy who stole her away from them.

I held out my arms as I approached her. She walked right by me. "Fuck 
you!" she said. She kept walking, expecting me to fall in behind and 
ask her why she was so upset. I didn't. I just folded my arms and 
waited. When she realized that I wasn't going to follow her, she 
stopped. "I can't believe you! Do you think I wouldn't find out? 
Everybody around here knows you've been fucking that freaky Lara girl!" 
She crescendoed as she finished, leaving the accusation hanging in the 
air, demanding my response. I stood there with my arms folded and 
waited in the comfort of a pleasant October evening. "Well?" She 
finally demanded, totally frustrated by my lack of panic at having been 
discovered.

"Well..." I started calmly, "first off, she's not a freak. Secondly, 
everybody doesn't 'know' I've been fucking her, because they have 
neither seen it nor asked either one of us about it. Don't buy into 
what 'everybody knows'. It's usually crap. But, since you have a vested 
interest in the situation, I will tell you that in this case it's 
true."

"You asshole! How could you do that to me?"

"That's precisely the question," I said dryly. "How could I do that to 
you? You keep your damn legs glued shut like somebody got to 'em with 
epoxy. I couldn't do that to you, so I did it to someone else." She was 
flabbergasted, and way over her head. Sex had always been something at 
the fringes of our relationship. Something my infatuation with her had 
allowed her to control totally. I had never pushed sex to the forefront 
of our relationship because I was afraid of scaring her off. Now, sex 
was right smack dab in the middle of everything, and she had no control 
over that at all. Her beautiful little lip quivered, and the tears 
began to flow. I had been mentally preparing myself for these tears, 
but they still affected me deeply. She really did have a dear, sweet 
little heart. I hated to be the one to bring pain into her world, but 
we were going to break up eventually anyway, so I had just accelerated 
what had initially been a long drawn-out affair for both of us.

"I thought you loved me!" She was more confused then angry right now. 
"But you are going to break us up over sex?"

"Jen, this is more complicated than that. Let's sit down somewhere and 
I'll tell you everything about how I feel. Then, maybe we'll both see 
things more clearly."

"No! I'm not going to listen to anything you have to say! You cheated 
on me!"

"GODAMMIT, JEN!" I roared. I had never raised my voice to her at all. 
Practically no one had ever raised a voice to her. My sudden bark and 
my angry expression frightened her quite a bit. That was actually 
exactly what I wanted. She was getting to the age where she had to 
confront the difficulties of sex and relationships instead of seeing 
them through the rose-colored glasses of a barely pubescent virgin whom 
everyone treated like a princess. And those difficulties are a little 
scary and rough for anyone involved. I'd been planning this little 
confrontation since I had returned. I wanted her to see the scary side 
of the male species from me, because I knew I would never hurt her in 
the end. She would learn to be wary of our aggressive tendencies 
without getting genuinely abused. She froze when I shouted her name. 
Struck speechless, she began to tremble and couldn't make her feet 
work. I grabbed her by her tiny arm and whisked her around the back of 
the house and into the edge of the dark woods before she was quite 
aware of what was going on. Every time she started to regain her 
faculties, I would jerk her by the arm and drag her a little further 
from the house. Finally, I sat her down on a little hummock of ground 
in the center of a small clearing. I squatted down in front of her, 
bringing me down to the level of her terrified face.

"You're hurting my arm!" she whimpered, trying not to raise her voice 
and disturb me.

"If I let go will you listen to me and knock off the junior high 
theatrics?" She nodded repeatedly. I let go, and then gently touched 
her face, brushing back her warm tears. "Jen, I think that you know 
deep in your heart that we are not in love. We really like each other, 
but we are just playing an adolescent game of being, 'in love' because 
we both have romantic hearts. Think for a moment, and then tell me if 
you think that's true." She thought about it, and then opened her mouth 
to say something. She couldn't say it. She just looked down and nodded, 
her eyes closed tightly as she fought the tears. "I don't want to take 
that romantic heart away from you, sweet thing. There will come a time 
when you are in love. It's just not likely to happen until a little 
ways down the road. What you and I have is an infatuation based mostly 
on physical desire and the need for someone who understands us. I 
understand you, Jenny Lee. I understand you, and I am very fond of you, 
but I don't want to go on living out a lie with you. So, I'm gonna tell 
you the plain truth. Are you ready to hear it?" She sat up straight and 
braced herself. She looked me right in the eye, though. It showed a 
little more self-possession than I had given her credit for. "Jenny Lee 
Money, I want you-real bad. I want to pour myself deep inside you and 
give us both something to make us feel good. Then, I want to do every 
kinky and depraved thing either one of us can think of to one another. 
You are so beautiful you make me ache, and it is all I can do to keep 
myself from jumping you right now and taking what I need!"

"NO! Pitch, please don't!" She still spoke in a whisper, and the 
desperate urgency of it was kind of a turn-on.

"Jen, I am big enough and strong enough to take you. And I am desperate 
to touch you in so many ways. Do you see how it could happen that I 
would just do it?" She nodded and scooted back. "You're afraid of that, 
but you'd also love to know how it would feel, to have a strong young 
man ravish you. Wouldn't you?" She turned her head away. "Don't hide 
from me, Jenny Lee. I know you. I'm the one who understands you. 
Remember? You want badly to know how it would feel, don't you?"

"Yes," she whispered, "I want to know so badly it makes me crazy 
sometimes, but I'm not ready yet. Please, Pitch, don't take it from 
me."

"But you won't give it to me, will you?"

"I can't, Pitch. Please, I can't."

"Now do you see why I need to take on other lovers? I have all the same 
desires penned up inside me, and I can't let them out with you." She 
turned and stared at me blankly, totally outmaneuvered. I was pretty 
sure that I still had an endgame which would use her jealousy and 
insecurity to get her to consent to letting me ravish her right there 
in the woods, but that was never my goal. The first time around I'd 
never realized how "not ready" she was. Still, I knew that she needed a 
little shove toward getting ready.

I sat down next to her and pulled her close to me. She was frightened 
of me, but ironically clung tightly to me for protection. "Babydoll, I 
would never take anything from you by force, but there are a lot of 
boys out there who are not in control. They will take it anyway they 
can get it. You must protect yourself from this by being very careful 
from now on, okay?" She nodded again. "Now, I want you to know that you 
will never be safer than you are right now. It's time for us to talk 
about how you can start to get yourself ready for what will come next 
with boys. You do want to start getting ready to enjoy sex, don't you?"

She looked up at me with her eyes anxious, but still nervous. I kissed 
her on the mouth, and she grabbed me behind the neck and pulled me in. 
Her tongue slid into my mouth, and she kissed me with a longing she did 
not understand. I had to pull her away from me, or I would not have 
been able to completely control the situation the way I wanted to. She 
was breathing heavily and wanted to continue, but I knew she'd need to 
stop before we were done.  So, I went ahead with my plan.

I produced the object I had stolen from my brother. It was a slender 
vibrating silver dildo, about six inches long. He used it on his 
girlfriend from time to time. She looked at it, half-appreciating what 
it was, but still not certain. "It is what you think it is, sweetness. 
You twist the end, here. That will make it vibrate. The further, the 
faster. You can touch your clit with it, slide it up and down your lips 
or stick it right in your pussy or your ass. It will feel good, and 
you'll get used to having something other than your fingers up your 
snatch." She started to protest the last remark, but I put my hand on 
her lips to sh-h-h her. 

"Don't even pretend you don't finger-fuck yourself. You're hotter than 
a furnace inside. I've felt it when you're in my arms. It's only a 
matter of time before you start fucking other people. Don't feel bad 
because you're horny, sweetness. It's the way God made you. Now, I'm 
getting really horny myself, and you need some time to process all 
this. I realize we're off for homecoming tomorrow night, but I hope we 
can find sometime to see each other soon." I kissed her deeply, and 
actually had to gently pry her arms from around my neck as I got up to 
go. I left her sitting in the moonlight.

I had only walked about one minute, praying that my ploy to eventually 
get Jenny Lee to the point where she was ready for a sexual 
relationship would work, when a powerful thought overcame me. She was 
already full of all kinds of strong emotions and sexual thoughts. What 
if she had started to use that dildo already? It would be such a 
beautiful thing to see. Not just sexually arousing, but actually a 
beautiful moment of personal growth in a girl for whom I've cared for 
over fifteen years. I stopped. I couldn't miss it. I crept back to the 
edge of the clearing and hid behind some gooseberry bushes.

Jenny Lee was twisting the base, feeling the vibrations change speed. 
She was still fully clothed. After a few moments, she began to rub the 
dildo on the outside of her Levis, letting it excite her delicate 
organs through the tight denim. Her eyes were closed, and she moaned 
softly. I could feel something straining at the denim of my own jeans. 
I'd never really been a voyeur, but I wasn't about to do a half-assed 
job of it. I pulled out my cock and began slowly stroking it while I 
watched this tiny girl exploring new paths to arousal. It didn't take 
long for her to have a little mini-orgasm. She emitted a short series 
of gasps, and then looked around the clearing as if she had just done 
something foolish at school and was hoping no one caught her.

After a few seconds, Jenny Lee laughed, and looked admiringly at the 
little wonder in her hands. Tired of teasing herself, and wanting more 
of what had just happened to her, she unzipped her pants. She slid them 
off her little waist and down to her ankles. She didn't mess with 
removing her shoes or messing with the legwarmers she wore over the 
jeans. Her light colored panties went down, too. Jenny Lee began by 
gently running the silver phallus up and down her moist lips. She 
sucked her breath in sharply as it occasionally brushed her clit. Soon, 
the demands of her little button got to be too much for her, and she 
began to let the vibrator rest on her most sensitive part as long as 
she could stand it. I now had my fingers making an inverted "okay" sign 
around the base of my glans. As she touched her clit, I would 
frantically jerk my glans. I gritted my teeth to keep from making 
noise. My balls were still tender from having given their best to 
Michelle.

After a few attempts, she was able to hold the vibrator on her clit for 
longer periods of time. She began to spasm and thrash about. She moaned 
unintelligibly. She began to bring her hips up and down to simulate the 
motions going on in her mind. She was running hotter than I'd ever been 
able to get her with any of my amateurish high school petting. She slid 
her twitching little lover inside of her tight little snatch. From 
experience I hadn't had yet, I knew it was one-finger tight. It had to 
hurt to slide even an inch of that dildo inside. Still, she kept 
pushing it in, ever so slowly. I could see her mouth fly open when the 
tapered end was all the way in, and the shaft spread her lips further 
than they had ever been spread before. She winced slightly, but then 
began to move the first few inches in and out, stopping at her hymen. 
Her back would arch as her hips came up, and her hair was filled with 
grass and leaves. She was totally into the moment, and so was I. Then, 
she began to talk. 

"Oh, fuck me! Fuck me!" She cried. "Oh, god yes. Fuck me. Fuck me, 
Pitch!" 

I was pretty near blowing my wad anyway, and that put me over in a big 
way. I slumped back and watched her finish. It didn't take long. She 
launched into a series of long "U-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-h"s as she slowly 
came back from the fantasy world she had just visited. She turned off 
the vibrator and sat, smiling for a few minutes. As soon as she stood 
up to put her pants back on, I did the same, still staying low so as 
not to be seen. I decided to wait until she was gone before attempting 
to leave.

Jenny Lee finished dressing and cleaned the leaves out of her hair. She 
began to exit the clearing. She was walking past about ten feet away 
when she stopped. She kept looking straight ahead, not toward me. 
"Pitch..." It wasn't a question, she knew I was there. I nodded. Even 
though she never looked, she knew that I was doing so. "You were there 
the whole time, weren't you?" I nodded again, with the same result. 
"You're wrong about one thing, Pitch. I do love you. Not like you're 
'the one,' or anything like that. But I do love you, baby. I do love 
you."

I was the one who began to cry now, as I realized that she was right. 
"I love you, too, little one." I said softly.

She walked back toward the house as I felt the exit of fifteen years of 
twisted thoughts about our relationship: the way I had denigrated it by 
calling it infatuation, the way I had remembered only the sexual 
frustration; the way I had claimed she was just too young to really 
care about someone besides herself. I had loved Jenny Lee. I had always 
loved her. It's just that we were young and didn't realize you could 
love someone without them being the great love of your life. And even 
though I had helped her grow toward her sexual maturity, it wasn't for 
me that she would blossom. She was too young for me. More so now than 
ever. I never did make love with Jenny Lee, but thanks to a second 
chance, I came to realize that I did love her with all my heart, and 
that was the greater gift.

The next night, I received an unexpected side benefit of my second 
chance. While my personal life had been changed by my actions from the 
start, Maryville's game plan hadn't been altered at all. By the second 
play of the game, I began to have flashes of deja vu. We had lost this 
game; we were expected to. We weren't even supposed to be a contender 
for the conference title that year, but our defense had overachieved 
from the get-go. We had shut out five of our opponents en route to a 6-
1 record. If we beat Maryville, we would earn a share of the conference 
crown and a playoff berth. Maryville was unbeaten. The preseason 
favorite, they had simply crushed everyone who had taken the field 
against them. The game was originally decided when we fumbled a punt 
after stopping Maryville on their first possession. Maryville recovered 
the ball in our territory and kicked a field goal. Both defenses 
dominated from there, and Maryville won 3-0. They went on to win the 
conference and finish second in the state. I had sat down the following 
Monday and watched the film. (As always, I was obsessed with how I 
could have changed things to make them come out better. I didn't have 
to watch for long.) On the sixth play from scrimmage, a third and nine 
situation, Maryville ran a short sideline pass to my side. As a well-
disciplined cornerback, I was aware that the receiver was short of the 
first down. I didn't play the ball. I just smacked him with everything 
I had to put him down on the spot. I did, and it forced a punt: the 
punt we wound up fumbling to lose the game. When I saw it on film, I 
realized that the sideline throw was actually slightly behind the 
receiver. If I had broken on the ball, I would have picked it off in 
the flat and Maryville's boys wouldn't have been able to see anything 
of me except my ass as I headed for the endzone.  I carried the image 
of that play with me for fifteen years.

It all came back to me just as the ball was snapped for that very play. 
Instinctively, my body carried out what I had visualized a million 
times. I jumped the route, felt the ball hit my hands as I strode right 
by, and squeezed it for all I was worth. During the rush of a game, 
sounds are distorted, and time bends. Some sounds and images jump out 
at you as clear as day. Others are muffled and distant. I heard an 
extremely distant roar go up from our fans on the far sideline. I was 
near the Maryville sideline, and my peripheral vision caught one of 
their cheerleaders bringing her hands up to cover her face and 
screaming, "No!" 

It even struck me as odd that a cheerleader was actually paying close 
attention to the game. I could distinctly hear somebody ringing a 
cowbell. Fifty yards away, I could see my brother and his girlfriend 
standing at the back of the endzone. He was tightly gripping the wire 
that kept the crowd off of the field. I headed right for him. 
Everything else though sounded and looked like it was underwater. As I 
coasted the last ten yards into the endzone, I heard the announcer's 
jubilant call seem to gurgle out of the heavens, "E-T-H-A-N B-L-A-C-K! 
N-u-m-b-e-r 3-1! T-o-u-c-h-d-o-w-n o-n t-h-e i-n-t-e-r-c-e-p-t-i-o-n r-
e-t-u-r-n!"  

I rolled the ball toward my brother as I hit the goal line. It looked 
like I was just putting it down, but he knew what to do. He ducked 
under the wire and scooped up the ball. He quickly disappeared into the 
crowd. I knew the ball would be on my dresser when I got home. We went 
up 7-0. The band played "Eye of the Tiger." The girls screamed my name. 
The cheerleaders did flips and showed the world their pretty panties. 
My teammates mobbed me.

From there, of course, everything was different. The defenses still 
dominated, but the plays were no longer the same. I had changed the 
course of history. I still played the game of my life. I was twice as 
vicious as I had ever been. I put a receiver and a halfback out of the 
game. I now had the hindsight of how special those Friday nights under 
the big lights were, and I left it all out on the field. That led to 
the beginning of a problem, though.

The small town high school football world of 1983 was just not ready 
for the trash talk of someone who had recently been playing basketball 
in the urban pick-up game world of 1999. The next time I broke up a 
pass on my side, I began shouting at the quarterback, "You must crazy 
throwing the ball on my side again! You can't throw the ball in my 
house, bitch! Take your weak-ass game and go home!"  It had become 
instinct for me to woof and talk smack during sports, but it was only 
for fun. Add the testosterone rush of serious competition in front of a 
big crowd, including Jenny Lee, Michelle and Josie, and it became 
something different. I got penalized twice for "unsportsmanlike 
conduct." My bravado and strutting really affected our whole defense. 
It unleashed the arrogance and violence football players always 
struggle to keep checked in the heat of battle. We got hyper-
aggressive, and we earned several more of those little yellow flags. 
We'd just laugh about them. "Give 'em a first down," we said. "That's 
just three more chances to hit somebody." Their frenzy added to mine, 
and eventually, I really got out of control. In the interim, however, 
we began to physically maul Maryville. There was bloodlust everywhere.

Late in the fourth quarter, they completed the little swing pass on 
which I would put their halfback out of the game. I came up and met him 
in the flat. I lowered my shoulders and ran straight through him. It 
was a clean hit, but it separated his shoulder. He went straight down, 
and the ball went straight up in the air. One of our linebackers, our 
old friend Gerard, caught the ball before it hit the ground. He began 
to ramble toward the endzone, and only the quarterback could stop him. 
I zeroed in on the QB, and beat him to the spot where he would 
intersect with Gerard. I laid that Maryville boy out flat. Gerard 
crossed the goal line untouched. As he quietly put the ball on the 
ground and turned to huddle up for the conversion kick, I stood over 
the quarterback and began screaming at him. After I was done, I hopped 
onto his chest with both feet before I headed to the sideline. Flags 
came from everywhere; three Maryville linemen piled on top of me. 
Needless to say, I got tossed out of the game. The damage was done for 
Maryville, however. We missed the kick due to my fifteen-yard penalty, 
but Windvale won 13-0.

Everyone seemed happy with me after the game except Jenny Lee. She met 
me in the crowd of frenzied spectators on the field. "Kenny, the boy 
you jumped on," she said quietly, "his mother was standing right next 
to me in the crowd. She cried for him. I almost cried for you. Be 
careful, Pitch. You were going somewhere really dark. Promise me it was 
just for one game. I love you because you're smart and funny and you 
care about people...Tonight was...I can't say..."

"Jen...This was a big game. I got a little wild. I won't go there 
again...Just be happy for me. We won a great game." I wasn't yet ready 
to truly reflect on my behavior.

"YOU won it!" she laughed trying to break the tension. "MY school lost. 
Go have fun, Pitch. I love you."

"I love you, too, sweet thang!" I whooped and picked her up in the air 
and spun her around. I put her down gently and kissed her on the cheek. 
She playfully slapped me on the ass and walked away into the crowd, 
shaking her head. She turned out to be one of the people who saved me, 
though. Her reminder rang in my when my newfound power and popularity 
led me down the path toward dark decisions and cruel acts.

We played two more games that year, losing in the second round of the 
playoffs. Maryville went through the other bracket and wound up winning 
the state title this time around. I played damn well in our playoff 
games, and I was every bit as physically punishing as I was in the 
Maryville game. The 1999 schoolyard shit stayed in 1999, though. And I 
still don't taunt in even a playful way. I now had my first major 
regret of the "second time around." The image of Kenny's mother crying 
while I stomped on him and acted like a damned fool still haunts me. It 
might have been okay if a normal seventeen-year-old had been that 
stupid. It was unforgivable for me to behave that way.

That night, however, I was not ready to dwell on it. I was going to 
PARTY! I stayed at the dance long enough to see Charlene crowned 
Homecoming Queen, and I danced several times with her friend, Molly. 
She was another person with whom I had unfinished business. I wasn't 
ready for any tender moments, however. I was headed for the party. It 
was my night to cut loose. I parked the Javelin back at my house; I had 
the wisdom not to drink and drive, at least.

The beer bash was at Chrissy "Feebs" Klein's house. Chrissy had 
received one of the greatest blessings a girl could receive in the 
1980's. She looked almost exactly like Phoebe Cates. Phoebe Cates! A 
moment to reflect here: One of the most beautiful teen actresses ever-
At the time best known for playing a nymphomaniac in Fast Times in 
Ridgemont High-A girl whose voluptuous breasts were clearly visible in 
that fine film. I have no scientific proof, but it is my conjecture 
that along with Jennifer Beals and slasher queen Jamie Lee Curtis, 
Phoebe Cates led to more spanked teenage meat than any other girl in 
the 1980's. Chrissy looked so much like the phenomenon that was Phoebe 
Cates, that not only was she called "Feebs" for the last two years of 
school, but she could also create arguments just by walking through a 
mall. "It's her!" "No, it's not!" "I swear it's her!" You get the 
picture.

I adored the way Feebs looked. I lusted after her every time I saw her. 
I also found her one of the most vile and repulsive people ever to walk 
the face of the earth. She was Cammy Langer's sidekick. Slutty, stupid 
and just plain mean, Feebs was perfect for the position. Cammy could 
devise no job too cruel or nasty for Feebs to carry out. And Feebs, 
protected by her own incredible beauty and receiving the benefit of 
Cammy's guardianship, was never ostracized for her awful deeds. Where 
some girls were made outcasts because they were promiscuous, Cammy's 
circle just laughed off Feebs' perversions. I regarded Feebs with a 
contempt I reserved for only her and Cammy. While Cammy's behavior was 
the worst I had ever known, I held equal revulsion toward Feebs because 
she wasted the most spectacular beauty I had ever seen. It was without 
hesitation that I went to her party however, because I saw this as my 
night. I was the wild man who had just led Windvale to one of the 
biggest victories in school history. If the party was at the devil's 
own house, I would have walked in and told him to move his ass over.

"Pitch, you fuckin' psycho! Have a beer!" Ronny Mitchell, the outside 
linebacker opposite Gerard exclaimed as I walked through the door. 
"Hey! Pitch is here!" Everyone was already standing in the kitchen, and 
could see I was there, but it was the high school equivalent of being 
introduced at a formal state dinner. Somebody handed me a beer. Feebs 
got up from her seat and indicated I should take it. I did. As soon as 
I sat down in the chair, she sat right on my lap, her little short 
skirt pulled up in front so I could see red panties beneath. Get this. 
I had thirty-some years of life experience, and I knew she was one of 
the most evil wenches ever to walk the face of the earth, but I wasn't 
even suspicious. I could see that Cammy was across the room sitting on 
the edge of the counter with her knees locked around the thigh of Eric 
Shroud, our quarterback. She seemed harmless enough over there, so I 
let my guard down. I had never been the hero before, but I had seen 
Feebs sit on the hero's lap before. I assumed it went with the 
territory. So, there I was. Drinking beer and playing "quarters" at the 
table with the most popular kids in school with a girl who looked like 
Phoebe Cates sitting in my lap and brushing her tits up against my 
chest every time she turned to face me. My favorite part of the 
experience though, was that every time I leaned forward and tried to 
bounce the quarter off of the table, I found my face buried deep in the 
cleavage of her tight red V-neck sweater. Her breasts were perfumed, 
and seemed to be the only thing in the world that didn't smell like 
beer.

I went through several beers, and every time I drained a glass, it was 
magically refilled by one of the people standing around, wishing they 
were at the table. When I looked back at his night later, I realized 
that Eric had left Cammy's clutches and started hanging around the 
table, and he probably had ample access to my drinks. I wasn't worried 
about tossing back beers. I could drink any of those boys under the 
table. I should have been worried however, about who had touched my 
glass. Something wound up in there. I'm guessing it was Ecstasy, but it 
could have been Acid or lighter fluid for all I know. The first visible 
sign of the buzz was sweatiness, and as soon as that started, Feebs 
began tongue-kissing me like crazy. "Get a room!" Ronny shouted. "Shit 
no! Do her right on the table, Pitch!" "We'll sell tickets to the 
freshmen." I picked her up and carried her, a little unsteadily, to a 
bedroom adjacent to the den where a large group of underclassmen were 
playing "Mexican." I closed the door behind me, and set Feebs down on 
the bed. I got on top of her, and began gently kissing down her neck. I 
was barely in touch with reality, and I easily slipped into the fantasy 
that I was about to share sweet carnal bliss with my beloved Phoebe 
Cates instead of her evil doppleganger. Feebs pushed me away, and sat 
up on the bed.

"Wha-a-a?" I said, barely even getting that out.

"That's not how I want it, Pitch. I wanna have some fun. Did you ever 
play a rape fantasy?"

"A rafe fantushy? Of coursh I dib."

"You did?" I could see why she was a little surprised. I hadn't been 
known for getting any action at all. "Oh that's right, you've been 
hanging with that Lara girl."

"Damn fine, wensh!" I declared. "But it washn't wiff-er. It was way 
later-da time before now."

"Okay. So, you know how it's done, right? I pretend that I don't want 
you to do it, and I keep telling you no, but you just take me."

"I think-k I'm sh-mart enough to handle a little shex games dare Mish 
Phoebe Catesh," I said arrogantly. "Let-sh do it. Are you in character, 
shweetcheeksh?"

"Oh, Pitch," she said in a Blanche Dubois voice, "I don't know what you 
mean. Declare your intentions or leave this room at once!"

"I'm gonna-a fuck you up the ash, bitsh." I closed in on her. She 
surprised me a little by swinging a fairly effective "claw" with her 
right hand and scratching the side of my face. The theatre "techie" ex- 
girlfriend I'd had in college who liked to dabble in those fantasies 
was far more psychological and far less physical than Feebs wanted to 
play it. That's okay if she wanted to play rough, though. In my state, 
the closer it felt to the real thing, the more I was gonna get off. I 
pinned her arms behind her head, and grabbed the top sheet. I pulled it 
up and wrapped it around her hands several times, too clumsy for real 
life, but great for the game.

"Please, Pitch," she panted. "Please don't! I'm afraid!" I snickered 
and knelt over her, straddling her slender waist. I pulled my shirt off 
and cast it aside. "You're too big and strong! You'll hurt me!" She was 
amateurish compared to my ex, but I was wasted on drugs. Besides--I 
don't know if I mentioned this or not--she looked just like Phoebe 
Cates. So, her little pleas really got me going. I ripped the fucking 
sweater right off her. It was a pretty damned nice sweater, too. She 
had a red bra on, and I pulled that off right away, too. I wasn't in 
condition to milk the moment for everything it was worth. Then, I did 
something I'd been aching to do. At a college party, I'd once seen a 
guy slap his girlfriend's tits. It had such a satisfying sound, and I 
knew it would feel just great to do. So, I grabbed Feebs by her short 
dark hair and made her sit up. As her firm tits slung out in front of 
her, I kept my left hand in her hair, and drew my right hand back. 
"No!" she screamed, knowing that with her hands bundled in the sheets 
she couldn't stop me. Her big brown eyes pleaded with me, and her full 
lower lip trembled. I slapped them hard. She groaned, and her chest 
heaved up and down. She looked right at me with her mouth slightly open 
in surprise. Son of �a-bitch! She liked it! I slapped those big 
beauties forehand twice more, and caught them with the backhand once on 
the way back. She had tears in her eyes from the pain, but I could feel 
her crotch squirming beneath me as she got hornier by the second.

I stood up and stripped the rest of the way. It gave her a moment to 
remember herself and the game. I reached out and roughly grabbed the 
red panties beneath her skirt. She needed to arch her back to allow 
them to come off, but she kept her hips down. Good girl, she was making 
her "rapist" work for it. I let go of the panties and reached up to 
grab her left nipple. "You're hurting me!" She screamed loudly. "PITCH! 
You're hurting me!" I leaned forward and got right in her face. "Then 
take 'em the fuck off!" I growled. She looked up at me and nodded. She 
pulled them off. I lowered myself onto her, flipping her skirt out of 
the way as I did. I didn't pause at all, but forced my dick right into 
her cunt.

"NO! PITCH! NO!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, but I kept on 
going, never remembering that we were in a house full of people. I was 
in my own world. I was drunk and stoned, playing out a rough sex game 
with the evil twin of a Hollywood goddess. I was also not too far 
removed from a gambit in which I had terrified a fourteen-year-old 
beauty for whom I deeply cared. The wilder, Feebs got, the more I liked 
it. I humped her mercilessly; her hands were tied behind her head, and 
I was actually holding her ass up off of the bed as I slammed into her 
for a very long time. Despite the extreme range of bizarre sensory 
pleasures given to me by the drugs, I wasn't cumming, although Feebs 
did a few times. She fell almost silent eventually just emitting a long 
quiet moaning as her body received its invader again and again. I 
finally decided it was time to move on to even more intense things.

I rolled her onto her belly, lifted her skirt off of her ass and 
positioned my slippery cock at the tiny opening of her asshole. "Oh 
god, no!" she shouted. "NO! I never! NO!" She was really good at the 
game. I slid my dick into her beautiful ass, pushing it way too fast. 
It had to hurt her terribly. "NO!" she screamed. "CAMMY! CAMMY!" It was 
a fucking weird thing for her to scream, but it didn't make me stop to 
think. I started fucking her in the ass as hard as I could. It soon 
became obvious to me that this was going to achieve the desired effect 
in a relatively rapid manner. She cried out for Cammy the whole time I 
fucked her in the ass. As I reconstruct it, Cammy had to have been in 
earshot, but still let her friend get violated for a few minutes before 
she stirred to help. I was just beginning to cum, when the door swung 
open. I didn't even turn, but finished humping until I was drained. I 
just had to fill her ass with cum.

"OH MY GOD!" Eric shouted, giving a wooden acting performance even for 
a jock. He continued as the crowd of underclassmen gathered behind him. 
"What did you do to her?"

"Did you rape her?" Cammy exclaimed, giving a damn good performance 
even for an evil conniving bitch. "That psycho raped Feebs!" She 
declared, turning to the crowd.

"I-I-I---She-she--" I began cleverly, "Ashk her! It wash a game!"

"Oh, God, Cammy!" Feebs was either a brilliant actress or it had gotten 
rougher than she expected. "He put it in my ass!" She began to sob, "It 
hurt so much!"

"Somebody call the cops!" A freshman girl cried. "He raped her!"

"NO!" I cried in unison with Feebs, Cammy and Eric. "Feebs will get 
busted for having the party if we call the cops," Cammy continued, 
setting the lynch pin in the mechanism she had created to destroy me. 
"Everyone just tell all the kids at school that Pitch is a rapist. 
Nobody should trust him at all. He's a psychopath!"

"You sh-et me up, you fucking whores!" I roared.

"Get away, everybody!" Eric shouted. "He's gonna freak out!" Freshmen 
and sophomores scattered, and Eric and Cammy retreated away from me.

I was convicted without a trial. But look at the evidence. I had been 
seen anally humping a sobbing girl. Her clothes were torn, and I had a 
big claw mark on the side of my face. If Cammy had just had Feebs 
claimed I raped her, I might have received some benefit of the doubt. 
But Cammy had engineered it so that-permission or no-I essentially had 
raped her with a few dozen witnesses. I feared I was in serious danger 
of getting myself beaten to death by the crowd of jocks at the kitchen 
table. That may have been drug-induced paranoia, but it wasn't all that 
unrealistic. I grabbed my pants and ran out the back door naked. I 
sprinted for about three blocks before I stopped behind a dumpster and 
put the pants on.

Utterly defeated, I sneaked into the house and to my room. There was a 
Wilson J5-V football sitting on my dresser. I cradled it in my arms as 
I slumped to a fetal position on the floor and bawled like a small 
child. On the night I had won the game, Cammy Langer had won the War.

*** No celebrity lookalikes were harmed during production of this 
episode. ***


Episode III: Return of the Nice Guy

Saturday was a total throwaway. I slept well past noon. Jet wasn't 
around at all, and I couldn't get a hold of him at his girlfriend's 
place. If he had heard the rumors about the party last night, he would 
have come home. I could have used the support, too. Cammy's trap was 
sprung perfectly. As far as I could tell, I was going to have to live 
with the shame of being known as a rapist forever. I moped around the 
house, spending a good deal of time ducking my dad, who really "wanted 
to talk about my having spent my savings account on that hot rod." It 
was an awful day overall.

Sunday didn't start out any better. Lynn Dickey threw for four 
touchdowns, but the Packers defense gave up so many points that the 
Vikings won going away. I was in a wretched mood whenever they lost, 
but today it just earned a shrug. The Packer game was just another 
example of how the world went. If you score four touchdowns, you give 
up six. Then my dad, ornery because of the game, started in on the car 
again. I wouldn't even argue with him. I just left the house.

I drove the Jav down to a spot on the creek where I used to play as a 
kid. The water was real low, and I skipped from exposed rock to exposed 
rock until I was sitting out in the middle of the creek on a big flat 
boulder. I lay down with my hands extended out into the water and let 
the chilly current run between my fingers. I must have been there for 
close to an hour when a Black Buick Electra rolled up and stopped 
behind my car. I didn't know the car, but I was sure it was loaded with 
guys coming to stomp me for my supposed rape of Feebs. Oh well, might 
as well get it over with. I skipped back across the rocks and up the 
little hill to the road. Darkness was falling, and I couldn't see who 
was in the Buick. I walked right up to it. The driver's window rolled 
down. "We been lookin' fer you boy!" The driver snapped. The voice was 
female! I squinted against the darkness and recognized the outline of 
the face and hair. "You'd better get your ass in the car," she ordered. 
I complied immediately.

Josie, and her cousin, Alexis, the most ardent of the Jennifer Beals 
(Flashdance) wannabees in our school, smiled at me as I got into the 
back seat. (Remind me to pray at the altar of Jennifer Beals in 
gratitude for that afternoon-and for plenty of great fantasies, not at 
all related to this story.)

I smiled weakly, not knowing what they'd heard or what they believed. I 
was somewhat concerned by the fact that Josie had brought "back-up." 
"Afraid to be alone with me?" I asked Josie, pretending that I was just 
making a joke.

"Oh yeah, Pitch. Cammy Langer and Feebs say you're a rapist, so I 
believe them. They once told everyone that I worked as a hooker in 
Green Bay on the weekends."

"You could make great money, Jos," Alexis said. "But then, I'm not 
sure. You'd have to work a different corner so my business didn't drop. 
After all, according to Cammy, I'm the one that got you into the 
business. Pitch, we don't believe a word of it. Why don't you tell us 
what really happened?" So I did. It took me a long time, and I got 
pretty upset several times. Josie crawled over the seat for a while to 
comfort me. She and I had never been that way with one another before, 
but she turned out to have a great shoulder to cry on. Alexis barely 
knew me, but she climbed back eventually as well, holding my hand, even 
crying at times. I finished with total exasperation, certain that Cammy 
had completely crushed me.

"So," Josie said, after I was finished. "Do we let her win? I don't 
think so. Pitch, I know that you will find a way to prove they set you 
up. We'll help any way you want us to. Until then," she smiled, "I 
think maybe Alexis and I will just offer our...solace..." She trailed a 
black-painted nail up the inside of my thigh. "...and support." There 
was a familiar wickedness in her smile, and I really appreciated it.

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Alexis smiled at me, and placed 
her hand right on my awakening crotch. "Hey, Josie, remember that J. 
Geils song, Rage in the Cage?"

"Remember it, sweetie? I practically lived it!" Josie laughed and then 
turned to look at me. "I tell Alexis everything, and she was very 
intrigued to hear about our fun last week. Don't mind, do ya?"

"No, not at all." I smiled at Alexis, and looked right into her big 
dark eyes. I had never looked at her so closely, before. She had a 
little hook to her nose and when she flashed her big, easy smile, it 
showed that her teeth were not all perfectly even. She didn't have very 
big breasts, and her legs seemed a little long for her body. I may have 
looked on those things a little critically at one point in my life, but 
not now. What I now saw before me was a typical American teenage girl, 
perfect because of her imperfections. Supremely sexy because she had 
accepted exactly who she was. I finally was becoming able to see the 
true beauty of every girl in the school!

It was the greatest gift my experiences as an adult had provided me in 
preparation for this magical journey. I thought I had struck out in 
high school because I was too nice or too plain. In truth, I had struck 
out because I had bought into the extremely artificial rules imposed 
upon me as a teenager. I never imposed such ridiculous standards on the 
women I pursued as a grown man. As this dark-haired young girl before 
me stuck out her tongue in a playful attempt to break my contemplative 
stare, I automatically felt the urge to make wild, passionate love to 
her. Of course! But in high school, I had been so brainwashed that I 
might not have felt that way. By god, that is a crime against nature!

Around school Alexis was referred to as a "slut," because she openly 
professed her love of sex. As an adult, I would have referred to her as 
marvelously well-adjusted. In my little circle of jocks and debs, 
though, Alexis's comfort with lovemaking made her a girl to be avoided. 
So, I had never approached her. Besides, in my first go-around I'd 
never done anything to get her interested in sharing her favorite hobby 
with me anyway. But I was done with those juvenile games, and now I 
found that she was smiling at me in a most devilish manner. All I could 
do was mutter the lyric, "She's a maniac, maniac...!" It was lame, but 
she was such a fan of the movie that she actually thought it was funny. 
Then she did one of every boy's favorite tricks from Flashdance. She 
pulled her bra out of her cut-off sweatshirt and tossed it. It landed 
next to me on the seat, and I took it as a souvenir.

"Matches my panties," Josie cracked.

She peeled back my letter jacket and stopped for a moment to breathe 
deeply of the leather in the sleeves. It obviously turned her on. "M-m-
m-m-m-m...A football boy...Josie talks about you lovin' her like you're 
some kind of superstar stud, but she has no real frame of reference."

"He's gonna make you sit up and beg, cuz." Josie seemed very impressed 
with me, but then few high schoolers have the same store of sexual 
knowledge as a typical thirty-something man. So, maybe I was pretty 
good, "for my age."

"Radical!" Alexis cocked her head and looked into my eyes, I still 
don't know what she was looking for, but she must have found it. I saw 
her bare left shoulder sticking out of her sweatshirt, and I began to 
kiss it gently. Alexis rolled her neck and dropped her head back for a 
few seconds, her hips rising slightly. She didn't want me to take over 
just yet, though, so she re-adjusted her position. She straddled my 
lap, facing me, and started rocking back and forth on my crotch. Her 
lips found their way to my ear, and she started whispering, telling me 
what she wanted. "I want to rock on your lap and feel your cock getting 
bigger and bigger as I get hotter and hotter. Then, I'm gonna pull my 
wet panties off and unzip your jeans to let your big cock out. I'll 
take it in my mouth, suck on it, and lick it like an ice cream cone 
until you are almost ready to cum. Then I'm gonna spread my legs for 
you to kiss my hot pussy and suck on it until I start screaming and 
begging for you to fuck me. Then..."

"Then," I said in a nice baritone, asserting myself as an obvious 
thought occurred to me. "You're going to sit in my lap and face the 
front seat. Josie is going to be up there all hot and sweaty by then. 
You're going to play with her tits while I fuck you from behind and she 
fingers herself. And don't pretend you haven't played with Josie 
before. She understood rough sex before she and I ever started, and she 
hadn't been fucking the boys. That makes you the obvious candidate for 
teacher. Thanks for leaving me the cherry, Alexis."

The two girls smiled at each other and Alexis started rocking more 
furiously. It was hot and steamy in the whole car by the time Josie got 
settled in the front seat. Alexis was as wild as Josie, but she wasn't 
as strong. After the football game and the events that had followed, a 
lighter touch was okay. Josie was getting even for the overtly male 
odor of the place I'd picked for our first encounter. The smell of 
female juices was so powerful in the car that I almost blew my wad just 
taking it in with each breath. Alexis had switched to sucking my dick, 
and she was fairly good at it. She ignored my aching nuts, though, 
until I put her hand on them. Well, she was young.

I could hear Josie moaning in the front seat, and I reached my hand up 
to touch her hair. She turned and took my fingertips in her mouth, and 
began hungrily sucking on them. It was hard for me to keep from 
cumming, and I had to pull Alexis off my cock before I lost it. I 
grabbed her legs and flung them over my shoulders and snatched her 
black panties out from under her skirt before I dove face-first on her 
pussy. As I did, I had my ass stuck up in the air. Josie couldn't 
resist. She spanked me a few times, and laughed as I wiggled it, 
tempting her. After a few more slaps, she began stroking the little 
hairs between my balls and my ass. It made me wild, and I went down on 
Alexis so madly that I unintentionally made her cum.

Alexis moaned softly for several seconds and then cried out a single 
loud, "Yes!" Then after a moment, she commented, "That was fast!"

"No loss," I said, lifting my head and smiling, "I can make you do it 
again." I moved over her and teased the opening of her juicy cunt with 
the tip of my dick. Then, I went back to kissing around her thighs and 
snatch so that I could get a good taste of her cum. Josie, meanwhile, 
leaned over and gave me the very first rim-job I'd ever had in any 
lifetime. I'm guessing Josie rimmed Alexis in the past, because she had 
no hesitation about doing it. These girls knew how to push all of a 
boy's buttons.

I sat back up and pulled Alexis onto my lap and drove my cock into her 
sweet little pussy. She followed the plan and began to twist and nip 
and even slap Josie's breasts. These girls also knew how to push each 
other's buttons. Then, Josie flipped over so that she had her ass on 
the seat back and her pussy exposed so that Alexis could lean forward 
and taste her. Josie furiously worked herself with her fingers all the 
while.

"You fucking whore!" Josie screamed at Alexis. "Do it! Do it to me!"

Alexis began getting really wild after Josie screamed at her, raising 
herself up off of my dick and plunging back down on a few occasions. It 
was too much for me.

"I'm gonna cum!" I groaned.

"Do it!" Alexis shouted. "I'm on the pill! Cum in me you dirty fucker! 
Fill me up!"

I came long and hard. Alexis started to spiral her hips up and down my 
shaft as I was spurting inside her. It sent me straight into an 
unbelievable fit. It was almost too much sensation, but I wouldn't have 
traded it for the world. She came again, with only a few throaty moans, 
but Josie was really howling in the front seat, "I'm cumming! I'm 
cumming! God, I love you guys."

"I love you two, baby," Alexis cried out. Then she turned quickly and 
tongue-kissed me for a long time, intentionally relieving me of having 
to decide whether or not to use the "L-word" that was flying around the 
car. "Hey, Josie," she said as she finally broke the kiss. "You're 
right. I'd beg him for it."

I put my head back onto the ledge beneath the rear window. All I could 
see was steam. I was resting and catching my breath, and I felt Alexis 
slide off of my cock. I was totally out of it for a little bit, 
hovering at the brink of unconsciousness. I came back around when I 
felt a tongue tracing circles around the head of my dick. I looked down 
and saw purple hair and realized that it was Josie who was now coaxing 
me back to life. She looked up with her beautiful green eyes and 
smiled. She crawled up to me and kissed me passionately. Then she 
whispered in my ear, "How about you go up my ass this time? I want to 
try everything while I'm still young and stupid enough to enjoy it. 
What do you think, baby? Ready for a second time around?"

I smiled at her, and stroked her beautiful spiked hair. "It's been my 
experience, sweet thing, that the second time around is much, much 
better than the first." She nuzzled against me and then slid back down 
to resume her fellatio. "Oh yea," I whispered, "the second time around 
is much better than the first." I felt my confidence returning. It's 
amazing how confident you become during a great blowjob. I believed I 
could handle the whole Cammy situation. I just had to come up with a 
plan....

It felt really cool. I was breezing into the high school with four very 
hot and pretty scary looking chicks flanked out behind me. Each of the 
girls had a pointed piece of wood in their hands. I felt like I was 
Buffy the Vampire Slayer with all her teenage sidekicks. I even hummed 
the music as we went around the first corner past the entryway and hit 
the crowded hallway. The crowd parted before us. Here was the boy who 
everyone was convinced was a psychotic rapist accompanied by the two 
big blond McKenzie girls, the tall leggy Alexis, and the punked-up 
purple-coifed Josie. On a normal day we would have been given plenty of 
room, but striding angrily, as we were, people plastered themselves 
against their lockers as we passed. Still, they absolutely had to know 
where we were going. So, almost everyone joined in the growing throng 
behind us. I had planned on that. We swept up the stairs silently. I 
slowed down as the girls went by me and took their positions near the 
far end of the hall.

At the far end of the hall were four classroom doors and the back door 
to the stair well. Oh yea, it was also at that end of the hall that the 
faithful gathered around Cammy's locker. The four girls quickly slammed 
shut the classroom doors and jammed their wedges of wood so tightly 
that the doors could not open. We didn't want the teachers getting into 
the middle of the action. Cammy looked up, and saw who was coming. She 
tried to make for the stairwell doors, but Michelle and Amy had them 
blocked off. She turned to run back down the hallway, past me. Josie 
and Alexis caught her by the arms and forced her to her knees. We let 
Feebs and two other girls go. That just left the boy who drugged me, 
Eric Shroud. He was for me to play with. And he was the centerpiece of 
my plan.

Eric looked at me and decided his best move was to try to get past me 
into the crowd. I dropped my hips, started my feet chopping and waited 
for him to pick a side to go around me. Once he committed, I got my 
head in front of him, wrapped my arms around his hips and drove right 
through him. He smacked down onto the floor, hard. The crowd was 
getting a little ugly, "Oh great, ya fuckin' psycho! Hurt somebody 
else." "Gonna rape him Pitch?" Cammy saw this as her opportunity. "Get 
him, guys! He raped Feebs!" Josie cranked Cammy's hair back, and it 
shut her up.

A couple of big old offensive linemen stepped out of the crowd. They 
saw me as a threat to the general populace, and they were going to put 
an end to my violent ways right then and there. I couldn't really blame 
them. I had to move fast, or the whole thing would fall apart. Eric put 
his right arm on the floor to push himself up. I grabbed his wrist with 
both hands to keep his arm extended. As he started to go back down, I 
put a knee on each side of his arm. My left foot went across his neck, 
and my right went across his chest. I slid my hips in all the way 
underneath his right elbow. He was lying on his back, and I was lying 
perpendicular to him. I had an arm bar in as deep as it could go. 
"Nobody move or I'll bust his fuckin' elbow!"  I screamed. They kept 
coming, and I arched my hips slightly.

"OWWWWWW! My arm! Get the fuck back!" He squealed. "Let go of me, 
freak!"

"The truth!" I growled.

"What?"

"Tell the truth about Friday night!" I put just a little more pressure 
on the elbow.

"OWWWWWW! Don't break my arm! I'm a quarterback!"

"You suck anyway. TELL THEM THE TRUTH!"

"OWW! Okay! Okay! Cammy and Feebs set you up! Now let me go!"

"Everything!"

"I-I-I put some shit in your beer to--mess you up. Feebs--was supposed 
to get you to play rough with her-and-and-and scratch you up. Then we 
were supposed to come in when she started-screaming...OWWWW! OWWWW! 
Cammy made me wait though.  She-she wanted to catch you at it good!"

"YOU BITCH!!!" A female voice screamed from the crowd. "You said you 
never heard me until the very end!" Feebs ran at Cammy, whom the Lara 
girls were holding in a kneeling position. Feebs kicked her right in 
the face. Cammy went down, and Feebs started to try stomping her some 
more, but the girls released the prone Cammy and held Feebs back. "Bust 
his arm, Pitch!!! Bust his fuckin' arm!!! He could have stopped it." 
Feebs screamed.

"Like you were some innocent that needed to be rescued?" Josie and 
Alexis threw her down on the floor. Feebs tried to get back up. Josie 
pushed Feebs to the floor with the sole of her foot and then placed her 
boot on the back of Feebs neck, pinning her there.

"Bust him up if you want to, Pitch," one of the linemen grunted. "He's 
a fuckin' piece of shit."

A low, guttural chant started from the crowd. "Break it! Break it! 
Break it!" Over and over again I received public permission to maim the 
squealing boy whose fate I held in my hands. A tremendous feeling of 
power came over me, and I began to bring my hips up against his fragile 
joint. I took one last look at the crowd and saw Molly and Charlen, 
standing there sadly watching. Gerard, likewise stood with his head 
hung down. In my mind I saw Jenny Lee's sweet face from the night of 
the game. What had she said? Something about "going to a dark place?" 
Was this it? Is this what some unseen force had sent me back to become? 
Was I here to enforce my morals, my unwritten rules, by making people 
more afraid of me than they were of Cammy? I let go of Eric's arm. I 
walked away.

Alexis, Michelle and Amy slowly followed, but I could tell that Josie 
wanted to exact her measure of revenge. I didn't turn to stop her. I 
would let her make her own choice. As we headed down the back 
stairwell, I heard Josie scream in frustration, but there were no 
sounds of violence. She joined us in the stairwell. We all stood 
silently and stared at one another, hearts pounding in fear. We had all 
risked physical danger, even legal danger. But those were not the 
source of our rapid pulse and shallow breath. It is impossible for the 
sane to see their own hidden madness and not be afraid. In the heat of 
the moment, I had imagined that only I had come so close to madness, 
but I saw in the eyes of the four brave girls surrounding me that we 
had each brushed with the part of our soul that craves to hurt and 
destroy. Josie lowered herself to sit on the step. "I wanted to kill 
her! That's not who I want to be," she whispered, her beautiful face 
twisted in shame and fear. Amy and Alexis took her hand and whispered 
in her ear. I held Michelle in my arms, allowing myself to believe I 
was supporting her. Deep in my heart though, I knew that it was my 
knees that were weak. "Thank you," I choked out. "Thank you for giving 
me my life back." In a matter of minutes, the bell rang and we each 
went to our classes, except for Amy. She was out of school and went 
home to her brother's loving arms.

I headed to school the Monday morning after Thanksgiving vacation 
brimming with confidence and certain of my place in the universe. Much 
of the damage Cammy Langer had done to me during high school was now 
gone forever, but there was still a lot of anger and resentment toward 
her. Cammy seemed almost powerless to hurt me now. Her power over me 
had always been in excluding me from the one clique to which I wanted 
to belong. Now, that clique had turned its ugly side toward Cammy, and 
she was ostracized in the very manner she had ostracized others. 
Actually, that's wrong. She was ostracized for doing awful things, not 
for simply failing to please the person in power. Nevertheless, she was 
wounded and dangerous.  She was still beautiful, too. That meant she 
would be able to weave her siren's spell over some.

Poor Gerard had been caught in the wake of my actions, and I felt bad 
about it. At first I was happy for him, because it seemed that he was 
now no longer willing to follow the crowd. He was becoming his own man. 
He was, however, paying a heavy price for that growth. Cammy had been 
very thorough in debasing him for losing the fight to me. Then she had 
openly wooed other boys just to use the hurt look on his face as 
evidence that he was a weakling. Soon, he became the subject of 
snickers from the whole jock and deb clique, and he was cut off from 
his circle of friends. Even though Cammy was now removed from power, 
the rift between Gerard and his ex-clique was irreparable. Gerard 
seemed a pretty awful lonely sad miserable boy, and I felt it my duty 
to hook him up with someone who would help him forget his troubles.

I invited him to join me for lunch, and not having much success with 
the A-list people as of late, he accepted. I had been having what 
little lunch wrestling allowed me with Josie everyday, but I knew she 
would understand if I skipped it to help a friend. So, I brought Gerard 
along with me to the "nerd chicks' table" and asked if we could join 
them. Since I had nominated Charlen Flagg for Homecoming Queen, --a 
nomination that led to her winning the title--and also openly declared 
that I thought smart girls were sexy, I was fairly well received in 
their company. Gerard would have always been welcome at their table if 
he had ever asked. Smart girls may make jokes about jocks, but they 
generally like 'em just fine. A few of the jocks are mean to smart or 
shy people, but most jocks just ignore them. Gerard fell into the 
"ignore" category. The girls could appreciate the physical attributes 
of big hunks of beef like Gerard as long they weren't openly 
antagonizing others.

Most of the girls fell silent when we sat down. Always shy around boys, 
they unexpectedly found themselves in the company of a handsome jock 
and a boy who was liable to say or do anything of late. I was about to 
try and get things going, and try to get one of these sweet girls to 
overcome the jitters and give Gerard a try. My help wasn't needed 
however. Charlen surprised me by speaking right out. "So, Gerard, 
you're all caught up in it, too?"

"Yea, I guess I am."

"Caught up in what?" I asked.

The whole table burst out in giggles. The tittering lasted, for me, an 
uncomfortably long time. As soon as someone regained their composure, 
someone else would get the giggles and get them going again. Charlen's 
best friend, Molly was the first to finally speak. This wasn't 
surprising, because Molly was a real chatterbox. I knew her well 
because she had been in several plays with me, and because I knew that 
she kind of liked me ever since I made out with her at a cast party 
sophomore year. I actually liked her, too. She was one of a kind. 
Imagine this quote without a single breath in it, and you will 
understand what it was like having a conversation with Molly. "Charlen 
and Dorothy and I call it 'The Pitch Revolution.' Ever since--oh I 
don't know-six weeks ago, you have been a brand new Pitch. You were 
always kind of just trying to fit in like the rest of us, but all of 
the sudden you are everywhere, doing everything, messing with the 
system. Everybody's walking around going, 'Did you hear what Pitch did 
today?' 'Was Pitch with Josie again?' 'Pitch said what to Cammy?' 
'Pitch got Mrs. Easter really pissed off.' 'Pitch this...' 'Pitch 
that...'  My god, Pitch, what everybody has been caught up in is you!"

I blushed with surprise and embarrassment, but I should have been 
expecting it. I'd clearly decided to put myself in the middle of 
everything, and now it was obvious that I was exactly where I had set 
out to be. Still, I had only really meant to change my own status and 
get rid of some of the bad things around school. I hadn't meant to 
sweep these kids into the middle of the river of some social 
revolution. "Sorry, I just meant to stand up for what I thought was 
right, and to have some fun. I didn't mean to mess you guys up. 
Especially you, Gerard. I didn't need to hit you that day. I could've 
figured another way out of that mess."

"I won't say that I liked getting hit in the face-and you really pissed 
me off with that 'Oh my nose!' Marcia Brady crap-but it did knock some 
sense into me. I'm okay."

"You know, Gerard?" Molly's mouth worked faster than her brain, 
probably because she never gave her brain any oxygen by pausing to 
breathe. "I saw the fight, and that 'Oh my nose' line was really funny 
at the time. I mean, we laughed. Not that we wanted anything bad to 
happen to you, because we think you're really cute and all, but you 
were all like this big stud guy, 'Get outta here, Pitch, or I'll kick 
your ass!' And then, like five seconds later, you were lying on the 
ground and you kinda deserved to get picked on a little bit. I mean not 
that we wanted anything really bad to happen to you, but..."

"Molly," Charlen said quietly, "remember when you asked me to tell you 
when you were going to say something you shouldn't? Well...I'm about 
thirty seconds late, but you should stop now, anyway."

"Oh?" Molly was embarrassed and was turning red.

"It was nothing, Molly," Gerard said, trying to sound cheery, but it 
was obvious he was still deeply embarrassed by the whole thing.

Molly's eyes teared up, and then she rose from the table and walked 
quickly out of the cafeteria. Charlen got up to follow, but I grabbed 
her slender hand and asked, "Do you mind if I go talk to her? Most of 
this shit is my fault anyway. Besides, you're her best friend, and 
she'll think you're just trying to cheer her up. Maybe she'll believe 
me when I tell her it's all okay."

Charlen shrugged to indicate that it was okay with her, and I went 
after Molly. That left Gerard alone at a table full of shy girls whom 
he barely knew. I thought about that as I left the cafeteria after 
Molly, but I soon realized that they could always talk about me and the 
"Pitch Revolution." Hell, I had probably unintentionally involved 
everyone at the table in some way or another.

I saw Molly disappear into the auditorium, her second home. She was a 
dynamite little actress. She almost lost me, but I saw the curtains 
still moving when I came through the door. She had gone onstage. I knew 
my way around those boards pretty well myself. I started to go around 
to the steps.  I suddenly remembered that I was seventeen again, and 
instead of using the steps, executed a standing hop up onto the stage 
without even putting my hands down. I smiled for a moment, remembering 
how much I missed doing that little trick. Then I went straight to my 
work. I parted the curtains and closed them behind me.

Molly was sitting on stage on the basic rehearsal set we used for drama 
club. She sat in a beat-up second hand chair up center, and her head 
was resting on a small table. She was crying. I knew she was aware who 
was standing there, but she didn't look up. I just waited quietly, 
looking at her, finding the beauty in her as I'd been doing with all 
the girls lately. Actually I'd seen the hidden beauty in Molly the 
first time around. She was short, less than five feet. She had thick, 
dark brown hair that she wore in wild, unbraided pigtails out to the 
sides. She sometimes used to kid around by taking the pigtails out and 
frizzing up her hair and then delivering a dead-on impersonation of 
Gilda Radner's "Rosanne Rosanadana." She didn't look like Gilda in the 
face, though. Molly had a round face that looked small amidst all the 
hair, but actually wasn't really small at all. I remember one time when 
she had to pin all her hair down so that she could wear a wig for a 
play. Suddenly, this strong face with cornflower blue eyes emerged. I 
stared at her every night during the run of that play, and we got 
really drunk at the cast party and made out in the coatroom. I had even 
managed to get a pretty good feel of her large breasts and squeeze her 
round little ass. She was actually pretty lusty, but we were only 
sophomores then, so I was too shy to try to "go all the way." It was a 
great night, anyway. I didn't want to have her as a girlfriend though, 
because it would have made me a total theatre geek. I still wanted to 
be fit in with the "in" crowd back then, so I didn't pursue her. 
Foolishness.

"Two years!" she shouted suddenly. "Two years, you fucking asshole! I 
wanted you so bad that night, and for two years after we almost did it, 
you never spent any time with me outside of the shows! And I know we 
had something going, didn't we? Maybe not, you sure never showed it. 
Then, you drop in at our table all at once. And..." She sobbed and 
caught her breath for once. "And then you show up with Gerard. We have 
a nickname for him, you know, in our group. Just our little group that 
you never hang out with because you're trying to be more popular than 
we are. We call Gerard 'Everybody's.' Because he's the first one 
everybody in our little group claims they would say 'yes' to-if he ever 
asked. But I wouldn't, not really. He's not everybody's first choice. 
But he still is so beautiful, like some man-god. So I have you, and I 
have him, and I can't control myself. It's too damn hard. How am I 
supposed to say the right thing in front of you two? How?" She rose and 
crossed the stage to me, "How?" she screamed, and started hitting me in 
the chest with the heels of her fists. "How am I supposed to say the 
right thing?" She kept hitting me until she was played out at that, and 
then she collapsed into my arms. God, I was sure making the girls cry 
since I came back.

I led her over to the old couch stage right, and I sat us down. She 
curled up in a ball on my lap. I put my arm around her, and I sat 
quietly, stunned at my own insensitivity. I had always known that she 
"kind of liked me," but I had never imagined the passion it would 
generate in her. But hell, it made sense. Through all of high school, 
we had played leads opposite each other. Despite my efforts to be more 
popular, we were essentially on the same social strata. We made each 
other laugh. And one night in the coatroom we had proved how hot we 
could make each other. It's not that I was hot shit; it was that she 
and I had matched up so well. It must have been as frustrating for her 
to not have me as it was for me to not be fucking Jenny Lee. Maybe 
worse.

We sat for a few minutes, and I could feel the warmth of her small, 
slightly rounded body. It started to affect me a little. I could also 
feel her large breasts pressing against my groin. That started to 
affect me a whole hell of a lot more. I was wearing slacks instead of 
my usual jeans that day, and my arousal became obvious. I could feel 
Molly freeze for a moment, and then she looked up at me with wonder in 
her eyes. "Pitch?" she asked after a moment to reflect. "Are you pitch-
ing that tent for me?"

I didn't have any excuse for it. I just told the truth. "Everything you 
said was true. I was worried about getting labeled strictly a theatre 
geek, so I didn't make any more moves on you. And I know this is sore 
comfort, but I wanted you, too. I mean, damn Molly. It wasn't about 
whether or not I'm attracted to you. You can tell that! Aaaaaagh! 
That's not what I wanted to say, either. Molly, what I mean to say is-
You are right, and I'm sorry that I treated you badly. You are smart 
and sexy and funny and you deserved better."

"Good answer," she said and then fell quiet for a moment. There was a 
lot kicking around in her mind. She looked off into space for a moment. 
She sat up and kept our bodies apart, but kept hold of my hand. "I need 
to ask you some things, and I promise I won't tell anyone what you 
say...but I need to know, and you owe me... So, are you in love with 
that little cutie from Maryville that you're seeing?"

"Jenny Lee? At one time," I answered truthfully, "I thought I was in 
love with her, but now, I know that I just love her. I'm still really 
attracted to her, but it's not going anywhere. We only call each other 
once a week now."

"Okay...So is that why you have been with the Laras and the McKenzie 
girls all the time lately? Are you dumping Jenny Lee for one of them?"

"I think..." I was being as truthful as I could, but I hadn't made some 
of these decisions yet. "I know that Jenny Lee and I are done, but 
that's just a thing between the two of us. Josie...and 
Michelle...Well...We just...Well, we get along great and there's some 
real heat there, but we're not a couple. We just---"

"I get it, Pitch. You just wanna fuck whomever you can get. Well, can't 
say as I blame you. You're suddenly a very big man around here. Why not 
take advantage?" She spoke quietly, and she still hadn't looked back at 
me. "I don't think that's wrong, Pitch. I really don't. I wish that we 
could be a couple, but I understand why you don't want to be that way 
with anyone. And, I know from working with you that you do like and 
respect me as a person-even if you didn't hang out with me for the last 
two years. Now, I know for sure that you want me as well. SO, I need to 
decide whether to wait until you're serious or to go ahead and fuck 
you. I fucked my brother's college roommate a few times last year, and 
it was really just two friends having fun. It was fun."

"I like fun," I said, smiling in a manner I hoped was disarming. This 
was a complicated situation, and I was old enough to know that I should 
be cautious. But have you ever tried to be cautious when you have a 
seventeen-year-old dick? It just doesn't work. I wanted to take this 
girl right here and now. My smile was useless anyway. She still wasn't 
looking at me.

Eventually, she just slumped back against me like she was before. Her 
breasts were back down by my penis, and as it began to grow, she 
started to slide them around. My penis was rolling slowly between the 
swells of her breasts, and as the thin fabric of her blouse began 
rubbing against the thin fabric of my slacks, I could feel her bra 
straps. It was tremendously erotic. I leaned over and began kissing her 
wild hair, and she quickened her pace. Finally, she unzipped my pants 
and let my erection spring out.

I was expecting a blowjob or even a titfuck to begin, but Molly had a 
better idea. She began to bring her wild pigtails down next to my dick 
and then either raise her head or turn it quickly. My dick would be 
engulfed in a cloud of hair for an instant, and then it would be free. 
The sensation was incredible. It was something I had never suspected, 
especially from this sweet little thing, and it had me hopping and 
bucking on the couch like a madman. All the while she did this, she was 
working out of her blouse and bra, and she soon let her large breasts 
loose. They swung freely in front of me as she pulled off my sweater. 
She stepped back for a moment to look at me.

She was such a tiny person overall that her breasts took a good portion 
of the space between her shoulders and her waist. I gasped to see, 
sober, the beauties that I had handled in a drunken stupor what seemed 
decades ago. Molly knew how to work them, too. She squeezed them 
together with her upper arms and smiled up at me for an instant, 
getting herself off on my stupefied expression. Then she put her hands 
on them and placed them alongside my cock. She moved them up and down 
individually for a few seconds, letting me appreciate their feel. 
Again, she looked up to see me drawing ragged breaths and shuddering 
from the intensity of the moment. She had wanted me for two years, and 
she now had total control over me. After those few seconds of movement, 
she held her breasts still, and guided my cock deep into her cleavage. 
She bent her neck, and caught the tip of my penis in her mouth. She 
just held it for a moment, because she knew I would begin to provide 
the motion.

I cut loose with my hips. I was thrusting like crazy, and Molly was 
using her saliva to try and get my penis lubricated. I was near my 
climax though, and then there would be plenty of fluids to go around. 
She began to suck harder, sensing the imminent orgasm. As I began to 
cum, she pulled her head back and directed the first jets of the orgasm 
onto her breasts, and then the rest, she took on her neck and chin. She 
astounded me again by using her wild hair to clean my cock of the 
remaining semen. Then, she made a delicious show of scooping the cum 
off of her body with her little fingers and then slowly sucking it off 
each one. What she couldn't get, she just rubbed into her breasts. I 
don't know if this was just her giving in to her lusty nature, or if 
she had been trained by her college-boy lover. It really didn't matter. 
This was the most riveting performance I'd ever seen this little 
actress deliver. I was wired and ready to go again by the time she 
finished.

Molly kicked out of her shoes and slid out of her blue jeans slowly, 
allowing me to see that she wore sexy purple silk panties on even a 
typical day like today had been. Then, she lingeringly stripped the 
panties off of her round little bottom and let them drop. I thought 
that this "good" girl was done shocking me for the day, but I was 
mistaken. Molly, the girl with the wild hair, had no hair at all on her 
sweet little cunt! She was a shaver! I wanted to stop the world and 
just stare at the intricate beauty that is the female sex, but she was 
ready to go back to work on me. She straddled me on the couch, and 
teased her cunt over the head of my penis. She leaned back to my ear, 
crushing her big breasts against my chest. "Pitch, I am going to fuck 
you the way you want to be fucked. I always would have, and I would 
have done it to you every day if you had just asked. So, enjoy it, but 
know that you missed out on two years of it by not following up. ("TWO 
years," I thought to myself. "More like SEVENTEEN!") Oh well, your 
loss, loverboy!" She leaned back and stared at me for a moment and was 
obviously happy to see that I WAS feeling like an idiot for not having 
taken advantage of her desires. She was doing a good job of both 
pleasing me and punishing me.

Molly gradually let her beautiful bald pussy down onto my penis and 
then she finally kissed me on the mouth. She was playful with her 
tongue, and pulled back to tease me. I kept reaching for her with my 
mouth, but she made me miss a few times. Finally, I caught her and 
began to suck on her tongue. She began to grind her hips in ecstasy and 
started to set a rhythm, but I had made her do too much of the work 
already. I grabbed firmly onto her soft round ass cheeks, and began to 
slide her up and down as I worked into a rhythm with my own hips. After 
a few seconds, it was getting pretty intense, and I was really bouncing 
her around. She leaned back, and her breasts, no longer mashed against 
my chest, swung free.  They put on a show of their own, dancing and 
rolling with the motion of our hips. Her head was tipped back, but her 
hair stuck out to the sides more than it hung down. She was moaning, 
but her up and down motion made it sound like she was riding in a 
helicopter. "MM-mm-MM-MM-mm-MM." There was also a good deal of slapping 
noise from her tits slapping against my face and chest, and even into 
each other. Then, as she began to cum-a series of three or four small 
orgasms that seemed like steam escaping out of a relief valve--she 
began hiss at such a high pitch that each breath was almost a whistle. 
It was an incredible cacophony, and it put me over the top. I was lost 
in the moment and almost came inside her, but I cared about her too 
much to do that without knowing if she was on the pill. I pulled out at 
the last second and then brought her close to me so that my hot cum 
squirted all over her belly.

"Oh, Molly," I whispered. Then I couldn't think of a damn thing to say. 
"Oh, Molly...Oh, Molly...Oh, Molly."

"Suck on my tits," she panted. I laid her down on the couch and began 
to suck on her big tits. She put her fingertips on her clit and jerked 
them back and forth very quickly. In a matter of a few seconds, we 
brought her to the big orgasm that had been building the whole time. 
She grabbed the hair behind both my ears and buried my head in her 
cleavage. She grunted several times until the climax finally faded. 
Then, she pulled my face up to her mouth and kissed me over and over. 
"Shit," she whispered between kisses. "Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit."

"Oh, Molly! You are incredible." I rested my head back on her bosom.

"I've been told," she joked as she regained her breath. We lay there 
for a few minutes. I finally rolled off of the top of her and let her 
rest her little body on top of mine.

"Molly," I finally said when I caught my breath again, "can I ask you a 
question, now?" She nodded, and then she nuzzled into my chest. "We 
talked about being a couple and about wanting each other, but I need to 
know: Do you love me?"

"I don't know, Pitch. Maybe I do. I mean on some level, I do. It's like 
you said before, about being in love. That's something I'm not sure of. 
I mean how can I be in love with someone who doesn't love me? But still 
I've thought about you a lot for two years. So when you ask me if I 
love you, there are a whole lot of ways I can answer that. Do I love 
you as a friend? Do I have romantic feelings? Do I love you like Jesus 
said love everybody? Do I--"

"I hope you don't love everybody like you just loved me."

"Shut up, Pitch. You talk too much." She smiled and kissed my chest, 
tracing something on it with a fingernail. Girls do that a lot. What do 
they write?

"Do you believe that it's possible for someone to know someone for a 
long time and never know they were in love with that person?" I asked.

Her whole body tensed up. She dug her nails slightly into the flesh of 
my shoulder. "I guess--it's possible," she said very carefully.

"Good, because maybe you will believe me then. Molly, I think that I've 
been in love with you for seventeen years and I never realized it until 
this minute."

"Pitch, you beautiful boy. Get hold of yourself. That's just your 
libido talking. We just had terrific sex. I mean I did all kinds of 
kinky stuff I'd been saving just for you, and now you are just all 
swept up in the moment. I don't want to trap you into anything. You 
said yourself that you were having real heat with these other girls. I 
don't want to have you think you're in love with me and then regret it 
the next time one of them comes around. Let's just say---"

"Molly, take a breath and listen. A long time ago, I held you in my 
arms. I knew you cared for me, but I was afraid to love you. Now, I 
have a second chance to see that I love you and belong with you. Please 
don't let fear force you into the same mistake I made. I love you, 
Molly. Please love me."

"If you ever leave me," she whispered, "I'll never forgive you. I've 
wanted this since the eighth grade, Pitch. I can't bear to be with you 
now and then lose you. Are you sure?"

"I am very sure, Molly. As a matter of fact, I think it's why I was put 
here, in this place, at this time. I love you, Molly."

"I do love you, Pitch. I do love you."

It all seemed so simple, then. I got no grief from Michelle or Josie. 
Alexis wanted to "send me off with a bang," but I wouldn't risk hurting 
Molly. Jenny Lee said that she was glad I was happy, and that part of 
her was sorry that I wasn't "the great love of her life," because she 
knew that I was really a sweet guy. Coach gave me a little bit of a 
hard time, because I had said I was going after all the girls, but then 
I only lasted a month before I took myself off of the market. He was 
really happy for me, though. Jet tried giving me shit, but then I 
informed him that my girlfriend had even bigger tits than his did. He 
just laughed and shook my hand. Underneath all the shit, knew what love 
was all about. Molly and I became inseparable from another hot new 
couple at school. Gerard and Charlen used spending time with us to 
cultivate feelings it turned out they had kept buried for years.

Of course, I would eventually screw it all up. New Year's Eve, December 
31,1983. We were making predictions for 1984. For the first time since 
I had been back, I took the blinkers off and looked at the whole world 
instead of just my personal life. I remembered that there would be a 
horrible accident at a Union Carbide plant in India. Wasn't that in 
1984? I had to figure out how to stop it! The space shuttle would blow 
up in 1986! The L.A riots were coming! Oh my god, the Oklahoma City 
bombing! What year were they? Those poor kids at Columbine were just 
being born! Okay, that was April 20, 1999. They made a big deal about 
the date. That maybe I could stop. What about Jonesboro? I couldn't 
remember! What was I going to do about all of this? How was I going to 
help these people?

Then, the world began to go blurry. I knew somehow, that whatever force 
had sent me back in time had decided that I was becoming a danger to 
the order of things. I had been given a gift that was meant only to 
affect the order of things in my little corner of the world, not to 
change the greater course of history. I was fading quickly. Charlen was 
nearest me, she grabbed my hand.

"Pitch?"

I had only a moment left, what gift could I give my friends before I 
was yanked back (maybe) to my own time? It was stupid, but what the 
hell? "Microsoft...A company called Microsoft...Invest in 
Microsoft....." I never heard her answer.

I awoke as something soft but heavy gently struck my torso. By the time 
I opened my eyes, the person who had tossed the pillow at me was gone 
into another part of the room and I couldn't see her. Here's what she 
said, without taking a breath, "Honeylove, I know you playwrights like 
to sleep late, but I promised the cast that you would come down today 
and go over the script. I don't think we're going to have to rewrite a 
single line. It's just beautiful work, beautiful. But some of the 
actors aren't quite getting the subtext in a few of the scenes. I could 
give it to them, but they feel like it's more real when they get it 
right from a Tony award winning playwright!"

"Molly?"

"What, sweetie?"

"I love you."

"Of course you do, everyone does. That's why I was the goofy but 
lovable sidekick on two different sitcoms. I mean if you can't write 
comedy for a little bitty short girl with big boobs, wild hair and the 
ability to speak six-hundred words per minute, then you just can't 
write comedy! But anyway, I know you love me, and you think I'm 
beautiful and whatever else you are going to say. That's wonderful, but 
you know you already made me late for work twice this week. I'm the 
director. If I don't get down there, nothing gets done all morning. 
Tell you what," she kept speaking as she walked back into the room. She 
was almost exactly the same, except that with a few more years on her, 
she came off like the cutest little soccer mom in history.  

"Be there by ten this morning; go over the script with the actors for 
an hour-and-a-half, and I'll give you a nooner that'll knock your socks 
off. You like doing it backstage don't you? Brings back memories. 
You'll barely be able to pick the kids up from school at the end of the 
day. Oh wait, Auntie Charlen and Uncle Gerard are picking up the kids 
to stay with little Ethan tonight. We're supposed to go that big party. 
Baby, try not to stare at Phoebe Cates all night. I thought Kevin Kline 
was going to punch you out last time.  Gotta go, bye. I love you." 

She gave me a wet passionate kiss designed to wake me up and make sure 
I was on time to catch my nooner. I sat up and looked around the room. 
God, I hoped this was our house! I was in a huge four-poster bed. There 
was a large hot-tub in the floor. The other room Molly had gone into 
was a bathroom that was roughly the size of the living room in my old 
place. What had she said? Sit-coms? Tony Award Winner? I was a Tony 
Award winner? KIDS??? I had kids with this beautiful woman! God, I was 
so happy! At least I think I was. I had lived an incredible life that I 
couldn't remember.

Something began to shimmer in the corner of the room. I jumped out of 
bed and turned to face it. It slowly took the shape of a beautiful 
woman, a tall slender redhead, maybe fifty years old. Charlen! "Well, 
made it back, I see," she laughed as the hologram became so opaque that 
it seemed almost real. "Don't even ask!" She held up her hand as I 
began to stammer. "I'm going to give you a quick history lesson and 
then I'm going to get you squared away on your personal life. In the 
original timeline, things didn't work out well for you or Molly. And 
Molly has always been my best friend. She had a bad life and met a 
horrible end and I'm not going to tell you more than that. Because I 
loved her, and because I knew that a wiser version of you would see 
that she and you were perfect together, I sent you back to fix it. I've 
always been the smart chick you know."

"Smart girls are sexy," I said.

"Apparently," she laughed and indicated that I should look down. I was 
naked, and aroused at having this beautiful woman in my bedroom. "Don't 
worry, as you'll see in a few moments, I've seen it before." She 
pointed to the hot-tub, "God, we've had great times in there. Anyway, 
you really stirred things up. 'Microsoft.' In the original timeline, it 
took me until I was eighty years old to try and figure out how to bend 
time. With the fortune I made young with 'good investing,' and with the 
love of a good man, I solved that puzzle at the age of fifty in this 
timeline. That's still to come, so I can't tell you anything else about 
it. I'm never letting you get inside information again. You got your 
hands into everything. And damn near everybody! I had to pull you out 
of there. You'd have driven yourself crazy trying to fix the world. 
You've lived the past fifteen years with no 'future memories.' Anyway, 
I just came to give you one more important thing."

"What else could you possibly give me? This life seems perfect!"

"How'd you like to remember that life?"

"Oh, Charlen, please."

"Okay, here goes." Getting fifteen years of memories in fifteen minutes 
is kind of like having an orgasm that just won't stop. It's so 
fantastically pleasant that it's unbelievably excruciating. But 
whatever scientific voodoo Charlen used was magnificent. Not only did I 
remember everything from the last fifteen years, I REMEMBERED 
EVERYTHING! Every breath, every touch of Molly's hands, every kiss from 
my children. Everything. I remember Josie Lara's "wedding" to the lead 
singer from a rock band. They met at an all-girls college out east. I 
was at Alexis Lara's wedding to the band's lead guitarist, the singer's 
brother. Jenny Lee's love of her life turned out to be a much younger 
man. I hope she enjoyed trying to teach him as much as I did trying to 
teach her. Michelle is still single, and loving it. Amy and her brother 
Gary disappeared into the mountains of Wyoming. We have a pretty good 
idea what's going on with them. Jet never married because he followed 
Charlen's advice to invest in Microsoft and then used the huge profits 
to start a chain of strip clubs. It's just hard for a guy to marry when 
he's knee-deep in beautiful strippers. Coach was really pleased with 
the results of me wrestling at a heavier weight. He became a national 
advocate for tightening the rules on the amounts and methods of weight 
loss in competitive sports. There may be a few more wrestlers and 
gymnasts alive today because of his efforts.

The memories overwhelmed me, and Charlen was gone when I came back 
around. There was only a note left on a little piece of translucent 
plastic. The equivalent of paper in her day, I guess. "Pitch, when all 
was said and done, you did as well as anyone could have done. Better 
than I had ever dreamed. I wanted you to save Molly, but you helped 
many of us to a better life. Now, please stop living in the past. 
You've always done the best you knew how to do at the time. You've 
always been a good man. Love, Charlen."

Sometimes all the good guys do live happily ever after, with a little 
help.

*** No quarterbacks were harmed during production of this episode, the 
little fuckin' pussyboys.***

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