Date: Fri, 20 Nov 2009 01:52:03 -0800 (PST)
From: Greg <fotogme11@yahoo.com>
Subject: More is Better ch 10

More is Better

By: Photo Guy (fotogme11@yahoo.com)
Editor and Proofreader: Jere

The author copyrights this story, with permission for posting on the Nifty
Archive.  It may not be copied to another website without prior permission
from the author.

This is a fictional story ... any similarities to actual people, places,
events or other entities is purely coincidental.  The story involves gay
sex between family members and their friends, and is written solely for the
reading enjoyment of people who aren't offended by material of this type!
If you are underage, or this type of material is illegal where you live,
please leave now.

***

Chapter Ten:

(Ryan continues with the story.)

"I'd better poop out your jizz, before it runs ALL over the floor," Cole
laughed, racing me back into the shower room.  He squatted over the floor
drain, and my seed was soon running down his legs, before being washed
away.  "Damn ... this water is getting cold!" he laughed.

We showered quickly this time, before slipping into the work clothes we'd
worn all day.  Moments later, the two of us were walking through the
kitchen door.  It was warm and toasty inside the house; obviously, somebody
had turned on the heat.

"There you guys are!" Tim exclaimed from beside the microwave.  The aroma
of freshly popped corn filled the air.  "I was just about to come out and
look for you."

He put another bag of popcorn into the oven and pushed a few buttons.

"We were taking a shower," I laughed, "after a hard day's work."

"Yeah ... and we'd better change out of these dirty clothes," Cole said,
before asking, "Popcorn for supper?"

"My specialty!" Tim laughed.  "Some of the guys wanted to watch a movie and
eat popcorn tonight.  They're downstairs already."

"We'll be down right away," Cole replied, heading toward the hall.

"Say, Cole ... how'd it go out in the studio today?" Tim asked.

"I think we got a lot done," Cole answered.  "And Ryan, here, was a big
help!"

I felt ten feet tall, let me tell you!

"Glad to hear it," Tim added to our retreating backsides.  Then, as an
afterthought, he added, "Say, if you guys want sodas, be sure to bring them
down with you."

"Okay," I yelled back toward the kitchen, even though Tim was out of our
line of sight.  Moments later, Cole and I were standing outside of our
bedroom.

"Shit, it's freezing in here!" Cole exclaimed with a little laugh, after
opening the door.

While we were working in the studio, someone had changed the sheets on my
bed and cracked open the window.  Even though warm air was coming from the
register, the room was cold and, of course, the cum smell was gone.  I
hurried to the window and pulled it closed, as Cole stripped out of his
dirty clothes, shivering and laughing.  He had brought a small duffel bag
from his apartment, with a few clothes in it.  And he pulled out a pair of
ragged, but clean, sweat shorts (really, just an old pair of gray
sweatpants with the legs cut off) and a faded, black, Colorado Buffalos
sweatshirt.  In seconds, he had slipped into them.  Barefooted, he looked
SO sexy ... and he wasn't even trying.

"You need to start leaving a few clothes here each time you come.  That
way, you won't need to bring stuff with you all the time," I suggested,
deciding to go without anything on my feet, as well.  Since I knew Cole
wasn't rich ... and he probably didn't have an extra closet full of clothes
... I suppose it was a not-too-subtle hint that he spend more time on the J
bar A.  Maybe he could even move to the ranch, so he'd be here ALL the
time.

"Yeah, you're right," he surprisingly agreed. "But my apartment is already
paid for this semester ... and it's great to only be five minutes from my
classes.  I've got an eight-o-clock on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

It was almost like he had read my mind!

While I didn't know much about college, I pressed on.

"I hope next semester you can take a later class."

With a laugh, Cole tousled my hair, as he replied, "You and me both, big
guy!"  Then he asked, "Are you ready?"

"Uh-huh," I smiled.  "Let's see what movie the guys are watching."

We grabbed sodas from the fridge on our way downstairs.

When Josh had remodeled the house a few years back, he had completely
finished the basement.  It was divided into three distinct rooms.  When a
guy came down the stairs ... which emptied into the middle section ... he
was in the game room.  A large, well-equipped workout room filled the right
third of the basement, behind a floor-to-ceiling glass wall, while a media
room, complete with a huge, wall-mounted TV and a well-stocked DVD
collection, took up the left third.

The lights were on in the gym; and as I glanced in that direction, I
noticed Tyler and Chris were really going at it on a couple of the
machines.

Cole paused for a moment, watching them.

"Damn, I need to get back to working out every day," he commented ruefully.

"Would you rather do that instead of watching a movie?" I asked, willing to
do whatever Cole wanted.

"Not tonight," Cole laughed, steering me in the direction of the TV room.

The room temperature was on the warm side, with no light, except for the
ever-changing glow from the big screen.  And as our eyes adjusted, I
noticed Kaiden and Eric lying shirtless on their stomachs, side-by-side in
front of the TV, with a large bowl of popcorn in front of them.  Tim and
Josh were in a love seat off to one side with another bowl.  More popcorn
was in a third bowl on the end table beside the empty couch.

"Hey, guys," Cole greeted cheerily.  He pulled off his shirt, as he plopped
down on the sofa.  "What are we watching, anyway?"

"Dad wanted to watch 'The Sixth Sense'," Eric replied, as I slipped out of
my shirt, before sitting down, Indian-style, at Cole's feet.  "It's just
starting."

"Have either of you seen it before?" Josh asked Cole and me.

Neither of us had.

"Kaiden, why don't you start it over for them," Josh suggested.  "It'll be
better if you watch it from the beginning."

"Okay," Kaiden said, picking up the remote and pressing a button.

As the movie was restarting, Tim laughed, "It must be a good movie ... or,
at least, that's what Josh says."

"I think you're going to like it," was Josh's only reply.

Josh was right; it WAS an interesting movie ... about a kid, a man, and a
few other people.  There wasn't a lot of action ... something I usually
always look for in a movie ... but it did a pretty good job of holding my
attention, anyway.  At some point, after we'd eaten most of the popcorn,
Cole decided to recline on the couch.  Right after he stretched out, I
climbed onto the end of the sofa where his feet were.  Squirming behind his
bristly haired legs, I lay my head on Cole's hip, and within moments, I was
slowly playing with the frayed drawstrings that dangled from his well-worn
pants.

As I watched the drama unfold on the screen, my hand snuck under the
waistband of his sweats, eagerly searching for what it knew it would find
there...

True to his word, Cole ... who had kept his pubes shaved bald a lot of the
time, since a bet as a high school freshman ... was growing them back in
for me, and I only had to ask him once to do it.  I gotta tell you, it made
me feel important, that he'd do something like that just for me!

I groped the top of my boyfriend's massive cock; fuck, even though it
snaked down his right leg hole it was like throbbing iron!  Cole's hard
ten-incher never really pointed up ... I guess gravity kept it from doing
that.  But as I glanced in that direction, even in the semidarkness, the
tent it made in the soft cotton material was very noticeable.  Eagerly, I
wrapped my fingers around its impressive girth.

Okay, so maybe I didn't give the movie my whole attention ... but do you
blame me?  As my eyes were fastened on Cole's groin, I felt something pelt
me on the head.  I glanced up when I felt the second and third land in my
hair, but I didn't see what they were.  I did see the fourth, fifth, and
sixth, however; Cole was throwing popcorn at me!

"What the fuck?" I exclaimed, removing my hand from Cole's penis and
letting the elastic waistband snap back.  I began to crawl up my lover's
side.

Pretending he wanted to keep me away, Cole threw a couple handfuls of
kernels and old maids in my direction, but I batted most of them away.

"Hey ... cut it out!" Kaiden declared, rolling onto his side.  Popcorn was
strewn on the floor around both Eric and him.  "I wanna see the end of the
movie!"

"Sorry," Cole apologized for both of us.  Then he wrapped his arms around
me, and whispered in my ear, "Come on, let's watch the end of the movie,
Ryan.  Then I'll be MORE than ready to play!"

He nuzzled my ear for a moment, and then sat up, taking me with him.  He
set me to his right, wrapped his arm around me, and pulled my naked side to
his.  While I suppose I'd have liked to start making out sooner, rather
than later, I reluctantly agreed.

As Cole petted my hair, brushing away two or three unpopped kernels, the
on-screen action switched to the last moments of a school play, and I
attentively watched what came next.  In fact, everyone was quiet; I think
all eyes were glued to the TV for the last couple of scenes.  But there was
sure PLENTY of conversation as the movie neared its end!

Josh turned up the room lights, as the credits were rolling.

"That was an awesome movie, Josh," Tim stated.  "Thanks for suggesting it."

"I thought you might enjoy it," a smiling Josh replied.  "It was the first
movie for the guy who directed it."

"Amazing," Tim answered, as Kaiden and Eric got up to leave.  "I'd sure
never have guessed that."

"He also acted in the movie," Josh added, standing to his feet.  "He played
the emergency room doctor in that hospital scene."

"Yeah, it was a good movie," Kaiden commented.  "We're going up to my room
to finish our homework now.  G'night everybody."

"Don't stay up too late," Tim said, with a fatherly smile.  I'm sure he
knew what at least SOME of the HOMEwork probably would be.

"We won't," Eric promised.  "See you guys in the morning."

"Goodnight," Josh said for all of us, as Kaiden and Eric bounded out of the
room.  "I've got a ton of paperwork I have to work on, too.  And
unfortunately, it won't get done by itself."

Tim decided to leave with Josh, but not before telling us we needed to
clean up all the spilled popcorn, and reminding both Cole and me that
tomorrow was a school day ... like I needed to be reminded of THAT
unpleasant fact.  At least, all my schoolwork was finished.

"I'll see that Ryan gets to bed before ten," Cole vowed in a serious voice.

"How long before you have to leave?" I asked, after our dads had gone.  I
never wanted to talk to Cole about that subject ... until I had to, that is
... and he wasn't one to bring it up, either.

"The professor cancelled my morning class, tomorrow.  So I thought I'd
spend the night ... if that's okay with you," he answered.

"Sure!" I exclaimed, eagerly.  "Why wouldn't it be?"

Cole laughed.

"But first, we need to clean up the mess you made me make," he said, while
rubbing a hand over one of his hairy thighs.  "Come on."

Though I loudly disagreed it was in any way my fault, I helped Cole pick up
all the popcorn that had been scattered across the floor.  Then Cole pulled
out the sofa cushions so we could get at any kernels that might have
slipped behind them, too.

"Let's go up to your room," Cole suggested, in a suddenly sexually needy
voice, as we hastily tossed the cushions back onto the couch.

Guys our age are just horny, period.  Even though both of us had
experienced mind-bending orgasms only a couple of hours earlier, we were
ready to go at it again.  I doubt if you've ever seen two guys race up two
flights of stairs any faster than Cole and I.  No sooner had I closed my
bedroom door behind us, when, without speaking, Cole sat me on the bed,
straddling my skinny legs with his muscular ones, as he squatted in front
of me.  He cupped the back of my head in the palm of his large hand.

Urgently, his lips met mine, as he took charge of the moment.  He licked
over my chin and down my neck, before his mouth seemed to find a spot he
especially liked, and it latched onto me.  That night, Cole marked me as
his own ... as if there was ever any doubt who had my heart.

I expected Cole to undress me next, when he playfully shoved me back on the
bed and sat beside me.  But without taking off my blue jeans, or anything,
he just lifted my right leg, tenderly but firmly, feeling my ankle bone.
Satisfied, I suppose, that it was indeed a thirteen year old ankle he held
in his hand, my boyfriend smiled.  After pushing up the baggy pant leg, he
caressed my mostly hairless calf with both his hands.  Then, with only one
word ... "damn" ... he lowered his face to my foot, wetly slurping over my
big toe, before sucking it into his mouth.

Laughing, because it tickled, I kicked involuntarily; but Cole had a firm
grip on my leg, so I couldn't do too much damage.  Laughing himself, he
just held me tighter, as he sucked right down the line from biggest to
smallest toe.  In fact, he made a long, wet, noisy meal of both feet,
before his hunger was satisfied.  He called them a ten course dinner,
saying the popcorn hadn't filled him up!

I needed to tell Tim to pop corn for supper WAY more often ... at least,
whenever Cole was around!

Looking back on it, I know that I had already experienced a lot of sex for
a kid my age.  Fuck, some boys probably hadn't even had the pleasure of
jacking off for the first time when they'd just turned thirteen.  But Cole
taught me something new every time we were together.  Who would have
guessed I'd enjoy having my toes sucked?  Not me; never in a million years!

It took him quite a while, but, slowly and sensually, he made love to me
that night.  And he let me suck him off, too.  Happily, he fed me every
drop of the surprisingly ample load he'd built up over the evening, and I
gave him a taste of my cum, too, when we finally sixty-nined.  Afterwards,
we stacked the pillows against the headboard, reclined against them, and
basked in the afterglow from our mutual orgasms.  At one point, I nestled
my head against his shoulder.  And as Cole wrapped his arm around me,
absentmindedly fondling my left breast, I traced the contours of his
stomach muscles with my index finger, while also drawing imaginary lines
between some of the larger freckles on Cole's chest and belly.

I longed to feel him inside me again.

"Cole, this has been an awesome day," I began, lovingly glancing at his
face.

He had a dreamy, faraway look in his eyes, before he smiled, turned his
face to mine, and agreed, "The very best, Ryan!"

"We-e-e-ll, it COULD even be better," I replied, in a wheedling voice, "if
you would fuck me yet tonight."

My lover smiled.

"Yeah ... that would make the day perfect," he said, before laughing.  "But
I left home without Mr. Pinkie and his friend."

Mr. Pinkie and friend were a couple of dildos Cole had used to stretch my
asshole the first, and only, time he had penetrated me.  Cole thought they
worked a whole lot better than fingers, and who was I to disagree, even
though I was kind of disappointed?  He said he'd have them next time he
came, though ... and he'd leave them with me ... along with a couple of
others ... so I could stretch myself when he wasn't around.  Maybe, with
enough practice, I'd even be able to open-up my butt hole like he had done
with his, on the bench in the locker room.  That would REALLY be awesome,
if I could make it happen!

"I think we'd better call it a night, big guy," Cole said, planting a quick
kiss on my lips.

"I guess," I sighed, as we turned off the lamps and slid down into the bed.
Why couldn't weekends last longer?

I lay my head on my lover's chest, and he was gently stroking my hair, as I
drifted off to sleep to the slow, rhythmic beat of his heart.

***

Eric was a kid on a mission over the next few days.  At school, the first
quarter would be over in around a week, and since he had been absent so
many days, among other things, he was afraid ... REALLY afraid ... what
some of his grades would look like.  Maybe he actually HAD been studying
with Kaiden on Sunday night, after all.  Then, for the final football game
of the season on Thursday night, he'd be dressing out for the first time.
That game was a big deal for more than just Eric, because a victory would
mean the team's first winning season in several years ... something Coach
really hoped for.  But more than anything, Eric wanted to be a part of the
roundup in two weeks.  He told me THAT ONE event would really make him seem
like part of the family.  However, before he could go on the roundup, he
knew he'd have to devote quite a bit of practice-time to roping and,
especially, riding.

All of a sudden, it seemed there weren't enough hours in the day!

Over the course of the nine game season, several guys had dropped out of
football.  That mid-July morning, when we had our first practice, I bet
there were 30 or maybe 35 guys working-out to be on the team.  But by the
second Thursday night in October, there were just 26, and that was counting
Eric, the team manager.  Coach didn't believe in cutting any kid who put in
the time and effort to make the squad; however, some guys saw more playing
time than others.  I guess that's only normal ... but, while some kids
played both offense and defense, other guys complained they hadn't gone out
for the team only to warm the bench for most of the games.  Some of those,
and a few others, had dropped out.

In the locker room before the game ... with a couple of our other friends,
the twins, Kaiden, and me ... Eric commented, "I know I'll never see any
time on the field, but I'm really glad Coach let me dress, anyway."

"Me, too," David answered, slipping into his cleats.  Glancing in my
direction, he joked, "Ryan's gonna score two or three touchdowns in the
first half, and coach will put in all the subs before the game's over."

I had scored three touchdowns once ... but that was in a whole forty minute
game.

"Better make that FOUR touchdowns from our star running back."  Emphasizing
the last three words, Kaiden laughed.

"Hey ... nothing like a little pressure to make me play better," I replied
cockily, making a final adjustment to my shoulder pads, before pulling on
my jersey.

"Make it five, and I'll give you blowjobs for a week," Carlos smirked,
fingering his limp dick, as he pulled up his jock strap.

"He's gotten lots of practice giving those lately," David reminded all of
us.

"Make it two weeks and you've got a deal," I grinned, high-fiving my
dark-brown skinned, Hispanic neighbor.

"That's five in the first half, remember."  Carlos stressed the 'first
half' part.

Everybody joked around for a several minutes, as we finished dressing.  At
one point, Coach blew his whistle and said it was time for us to take the
field.  On paper at least, this game should be an easy win for our team.
Our opponents, from the small mountain community of Nederland, only had one
win all season, and that was against another team equally as bad as them.
But Coach told us not to take them for granted.  He spewed forth a bunch of
football cliches that all of us had heard time and again before every game.

Our opponents got the ball first, and after going four and out, we had the
ball on our 37 yard line.  We were going to score right away and CRUSH this
team!  But ... on the first play from scrimmage, Drew, our quarterback,
completed a lateral ... only to have it knocked from the hands of the
receiver when he tried to run with it.  After a mad scramble for the ball,
Nederland came away with it, at around our 35.

Damn ... this was not good!

I think all of us had taken our opponent for granted, but when the
scoreboard read 0-7 a few minutes later, most of our team was having second
thoughts about Nederland's ability.  And when we couldn't move the ball on
our second possession either, maybe some of the guys were beginning to
doubt our own strength, as well.  Then I made things worse by fumbling the
ball, as we were moving down the field on our third possession.

Dejectedly, our team trudged off the field.

As I took a seat on the bench, next to Eric, he laughed, "You're gonna have
to do better than that, if you want to get those blowjobs from Carlos!"

"Fuck!" I answered, loudly and angrily, unfastening my helmet, pulling it
off of my head, and throwing it to the ground by my feet.

I didn't usually make my feelings known in that way during a football game
... then again, I didn't normally fumble in games, either.

"I never REALLY thought I could score five touchdowns in the first half,
anyway," I finally said to Eric.

I glanced up at the stands, where several from the large J bar A contingent
were watching me.  Heck, I think just about everybody who lived on the
ranch was attending the game ... and they seemed almost as down as I felt
at the moment.  All of them were sitting on their hands, and I don't think
it was to keep them warm.  Like us, I'm sure most of them expected we would
win the game handily.

Unseen by me, Coach had wandered in my direction.  He had a football in his
hand.

"What's this about you scoring five times in the first half?" he spoke up,
surprising me.

"Nothing ... not really," I answered.  "Just some fun Carlos and I were
having in the locker room."

He nodded.  "Don't get too down on yourself, Ryan," he stated.  "Just play
smarter the next time, and tuck the ball away when you hit the line."
Protectively, he cradled the ball against his breadbasket.  "We've still
got plenty of time to come back."  He paused for a moment.  "Can I count on
you?"

"You bet, Coach," I answered, eliciting another nod, a terse smile, and a
brief 'go-get-'em-tiger' tap on my knee from the coach.

Immediately, he moved on to other things.

Unfortunately, the score was 0-10 the next time our offense took the field.
The rest of the first half was a defensive battle of sorts.  Both our
offenses seemed to run the ball at will, most of the time ... but neither
could do much scoring.  We went into halftime down 3-13.

I gotta tell you, we were one dejected group of boys!  I mean, how would
you feel if you expected to win big ... in fact, you KNEW it was going to
happen ... except, nobody told the other team, and things weren't turning
out that way?

Everybody was moping around in the locker room, and Coach let us stew for a
couple of minutes before speaking up.  Looking back on it, he probably had
a LOT he wanted to say; even though we were only kids, our offense hadn't
played worth a damn when it counted.

"Guys, last summer, how many of you went out for football because it's a
fun game?" he began.

Almost every hand went up.

"And how many of you are having fun right now?" he continued.

A couple of hands were tentatively raised, and immediately pulled back
down.

"I'm feeling the same way as all of you," Coach said.  "Hell, in my gut, I
KNOW we're better than these guys ... but you sure couldn't tell it; not by
the way we're playing!  They're whipping our asses tonight!"

Coach paused for a long moment, before he went on to say ... for the
umpteenth time that season ... that the game of football was like life.
Even though he had pounded that analogy into us over the course of the
season, I don't know how well it resonated with most of the guys.  In fact,
I don't know that I saw the correlation all that well back then, but Coach
continued, anyway.

"Just like in everything you'll ever do in your lives, though, you might
not come out on top, even IF you're better.  You've got to WANT it more
than the other guy, work smarter, and do everything within the rules to
win."

He paused again.

"But, boys, I'm here to tell you, we've got twenty minutes to turn it
around."  He pounded his fist on one of the lockers for emphasis.  "So are
we going to pull it out?"

A resounding chorus of 'yes' rang through the locker room.

Coach was sure good at giving pep talks!  In the remaining few moments, he
went over a little game strategy with the team, before we headed back onto
the field.  We hit the field on fire to open the second half.  After taking
the kickoff, we crisply marched down the field, before we had to settle for
a field goal.

Walking back toward the bench, I noticed Eric had a weird look on his face.
He hadn't put on his helmet, and he looked paler than normal ... if that
was possible.

"Are you getting sick, or something?" I asked.

"Maybe," he answered, raising his inhaler to his mouth and squeezing it a
couple of times.  His eyes glanced at me before he diverted them to the
ground.  "My mom and dad are here."

"No way!" I exclaimed, quickly glancing up at the stands to our back.  "Are
you sure?  I don't see them anywhere."

"Not up there," he replied sadly.  "Over on the other side of the field."

He nodded in that general direction, but his eyes never left his feet.

While the home side of the field had bleachers that might hold 150 people,
or maybe 200 ... although they'd never been that full at one of our games
... the visitors' bleachers were only four rows high and maybe five feet
long.  Sure enough, in the top row, left-hand side sat Mr. and Mrs. Sparks.
Maybe they had been there all along, but I sure hadn't noticed them during
the first half.

"What am I gonna do?" Eric said in a frightened voice.  "Dad's never even
come to one of these games before.  I just know they're here to get me, and
take me away with them somewhere!"

I glanced at Eric's parents again, and they were staring intently in the
direction of Eric and me.

"Let me tell Coach," I said.  "Or maybe..."

I walked behind the bench where we were sitting, and staring intently in
the direction of the J bar A crew, I began to jump up and down and wave my
arms at them.  Everybody was busy watching the game; the twins' mom was the
first to see me.  She nudged Chris, who was sitting next to her.  He passed
the word to Tyler, and soon it seemed that everyone from the ranch was
staring at me.

I motioned for Tim or Josh to come down to the field, pointing to Eric from
time to time.

Of course, I couldn't tell what they were saying to each other, but Tim and
Josh seemed to talk for a moment.  Tim got Ben involved, and before I knew
it, the three of them AND Tina were working their way down the rows of
bleachers, through the other parents and relatives, to the field.  By the
time they made it to my side, either because of my antics, or the commotion
the four of them had caused, several of the people in the home stands were
staring at us.

"What's going on, Ryan?" Tim asked.

"Eric's folks are here," I replied, unclipping the chinstrap and removing
my helmet.

"Where?" Ben questioned.

Turning around, I pointed to the visitors' side of the field.

"In their bleach..."

I stopped in mid-word.  The places where they had been sitting were now
empty.

"Well, they WERE on the top row of those bleachers."

"Yeah ... right over there," Eric agreed, pointing out the exact spot.

As the game continued on the field, our parents pulled the two of us aside.

"They probably just wanted to get a look at you, Eric," Josh said.

"Maybe," Eric dubiously admitted that might be the case.  "But I was afraid
it might be for some other reason."

"I'll bet," Josh replied, hugging Eric, pads and all.

I glanced up at the stands; everybody ... and I do mean EVERYBODY was
staring at the three of us.  Even all the guys along our sideline, and the
coach, were looking.

"Ben, you'd better call our social worker about this," Tina commented.  "Do
you have her card with you?"

"I should have," Ben answered, taking his wallet from his pocket and
pulling out a business card.  "She did say for us to give her a call any
time, night or day, if we had a problem.  He took out his cell phone, and
punched in a few numbers.

Tim motioned for Coach to join us, and after filling Coach in on the
situation, the adults, in consultation with the DFS woman, talked to Eric
for a while.  Coach suggested that Tim or Ben take Eric into the locker
room, where he could change into his street clothes and watch whatever
remained of the game from the bleachers.

Josh had a different idea.

"I really think it would be best for Eric, if he could stay out here with
the team," he said.  He glanced at Ben, who relayed his comment to whoever
he had on the phone.  "You don't ever have to be afraid that your parents
will hurt you again, son." Josh added.  "Your new family will see to that!"

Apparently, the social worker agreed with Josh's idea, because Eric stayed
on the sidelines with the rest of the team.  Most of the bench had been
listening attentively to the conversation, and several of our teammates
said there was no way they would let anyone get to Eric.  In fact, I think
all of us felt that way!  Coach just seemed to be happy that the issue had
been resolved, for the moment, so he could get back to the job at hand.

The third quarter had ended, while all the discussion was happening on our
sidelines.  But a couple of minutes into the fourth, when I turned my
attention back to the game, Nederland was still ahead.  Even though we got
the ball and scored a touchdown not long after that, making the score
17-19, it seemed like the game really bogged down near the end.

The visitors' bleachers and our opponent's slim bench were overjoyed, but
we were feeling really dejected, with just over a minute to play, still
down by two.  I knew it was my fumble that was the difference in the game.

Nederland had just received the ball, deep in our end of the field, when
Coach called a time out.

Drawing the whole team around him, Coach said, "Nederland's had the same
players on the field for most of the game.  I know those guys have got to
be dead tired.  We're going to run 'Fresh Warrior'."

It was a desperation play, no doubt about it ... one we'd talked about, but
only practiced once or twice.

Coach quickly picked out seven of our freshest players, including Eric,
along with Kaiden, David, and a couple of other really good defensive
players.  He sent them onto the field with only the vaguest of
instructions.  "Whatever you do, don't jump offsides!"

Watching from the sidelines, I noticed Coach was right ... Nederland WAS
tired.  Both teams lined up for the play; and as their quarterback began
his snap count, the guys on our side of the line of scrimmage got ready.
When their center snapped the ball, all eleven of our guys charged the line
with every ounce of energy in their bodies.

There was pandemonium on the field for a few seconds; it looked like there
had been a mixup when the ball was snapped!  When the referees finally
unpiled the players, Eric had the ball in his hands.  He lifted it into the
air ... and I could imagine the smile that had to be crossing his face!

Fuck ... talk about a night of contrasts!

Unfortunately, we didn't win the game; we tried a last second field goal
that went wide.  But Eric not only got to dress, he actually made a play
that gave us a chance to win.  I still felt bad about my fumble, but not
quite as bad as before, since, maybe, it was another mistake that cost us
the game.

But more important than all that, Eric was safely in the car with us when
we returned home!

***

I think I'll end chapter ten right here.  I hope you guys enjoyed reading
it!  Of course, I'd like to hear from you, if you did
(fotogme11@yahoo.com).

If you are interested in being added to my database of email addresses for
notification when a new chapter is posted, or new stories are begun, please
let me know.  I won't add anyone's email address unless he or she
specifically asks me to.  As chapters are sent to Nifty, I send an email
alerting those on the list of that fact.

If you have never watched the movie "The Sixth Sense", run, don't walk, to
your nearest video outlet and rent it!  I guarantee most of you will enjoy
it (and there aren't many things in this life that I'll guarantee)!

If you would like to join the Yahoo! Group for my stories, you can do that
here: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ill_suck_you/join And if you've never
read the earlier stories in this series, you might enjoy them.  They're
also in the Gay/Incest area of the Nifty Archive.

"I'll Suck You" - Final Post Date: June 25, 2007
"I've Got the Best Family" - Final Post Date: May 23, 2008
"Us Guys" - Final Post Date: May 29, 2009

Or you can go to the "Prolific Authors" tab and scroll down to my pen name
... Photo Guy.

Have a great week, guys!  Greg