A bet about sexual prowess, and its effects on a small town. A bit of oral, anal, straight, les, mature woman/younger man, incest. Enjoy. A special Thank You to OneSilky for her editing help. Jb7
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Some Background
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It is always difficult to know at what point in time to start a story. In this small tale, I have decided to start in the fall of my senior year of high school, some time in the latter half of the fifties, since that was when the significant action started. Which means I need to spend a little time to give you some background.
Rushford was/is a small town in the western third of the state, about 12 5 miles from anywhere. In the dictionary, next to the definitions of boondocks, out back, and boring, you'll find a picture of the town. The name of our school was the Argent 'County' Central School, it being the only high school in the county. Back in the late thirties, when four of the girls in this tale and I were to start school, they delayed our entry a year since it would have been a class with only five students, which explains why all the principles in this story are eighteen at the beginning.
The summer I turned eighteen, just before my senior year, I was working for my Dad, doing contract landscaping. A family friend, who had lost her husband just before the previous Christmas, called and asked him for some help with her lawn. The week I turned eighteen, he sent me, with instructions to do whatever she asked, the best I could. It was about an hour and a half drive, one way, so she insisted I stay over.
When I first arrived, she explained what she wanted done. With a crew of three, it would have taken us two solid weeks. By myself, I thought I'd be lucky to finish by Labor Day. We spent the first day planning on how to do the work most efficiently. I got up and got started early the next day and worked most of the next twelve hours. As I started gathering the tools to put away, Aunt Sarah, as I had called her all my life, brought out a couple of beers which we consumed pretty quickly, while we looked over what I had accomplished.
There were more beers during supper and after, while we watched TV. About ten-thirty, I went up and showered and got ready for bed. On my way out of the bathroom, Aunt Sarah was waiting, wearing an old robe. I heard her start her shower as I got into bed. I tried to read for a few minutes, but kept falling asleep, so I gave it up. I hadn't anymore than turned off my light when my bedroom door opened. I didn't sleep alone again until I went home for school Labor Day Weekend.
What Sarah taught me created the skill set which drives the rest of this story.
The Bet:
Being such a small school, the football coach had to recruit guys to try out for football. League rules stated he needed thirty players on the roster to field a team. My junior year, I was about five-ten, 190 pounds, and Coach convinced me to tryout for tackle. I had a conflict, though. I was the only guy big enough to carry the bass drum, and was committed to the marching band. That year the teachers involved compromised, I marched at home, and sat on the bench with the other irregulars (second stringers) at the away games. During the season this story covers, however, I played every game.
Coach would not accept any excuse for missing practice. If you were in school, you were to be at practice. Shit, that year, one guy sprained his ankle during a game. He was at practice while it healed, doing some kind of paper work and other BS. Penalty for missing/skipping the first time was a mile's worth of laps around the practice field, with pads and helmet. The penalty for a second skip was two miles, etc. After one such, nobody skipped again.
During the week before our first game, I
had
to miss practice. By the time I finished the mile, most of the team had showered and gone. Our fullback, Nils, a guard, Joe, and the defensive safety, Bobby, all members of the school's elite clique, were the only ones left. Coming out of the shower, I could hear Nils complaining about his last date with his steady, their first date since she had returned from a summer in Europe.
"Shit, I had my hand in her pussy, finger fucking her while I was rubbing her tits through her sweater. When I tried to kiss her, the goddam cunt yawned in my face!" The other two guys grumbled something sympathetic. "When I asked if she was getting wet, she just gave me a look like she thought I was clueless! Damn! She didn't say a fucking word, just pulled my hands away and sat there. What the fuck does she want?"
At this point in high school, my rep was the fat brain. Unless they wanted the answer to a specific question, if these guys ever took any notice of me, it was with the same regard they gave something on the bottom of their shoe. Still, something prompted me to say, "How badly do you want to know, Nils? What's it worth to you?" Talk about hubris! As far as these guys knew, I had never even dated, let alone got laid.
"Go fuck yourself, Jones!"
I laughed. "I expect that's what you'll be doing, too. At least I'll know why. And poor Patsy, she'll stay frustrated."
"You think you can do better?"
"Is that a challenge? You willing to give me a half hour alone with Patsy, knowing I'm gonna get her in bed? Knowing you'll hear her begging for more before I'm done?"
"Bullshit!" Nils laughed. "As if you could get close enough to use that mini-dick of yours," he said pointing at my very flaccid manhood, still displaying the effects of the cold shower I had just finished. I won't disagree with his observation. I was not circumcised, and when it's chilly, about all you can see is foreskin.
"If that's what you think, you've got nothing to worry about. But if you want to know..."
"What could a loser like you, a second string tackle, show me? Have you even had a date?"
"True, I haven't dated any local girls, But I know enough to do what I said."
"And you think you can make Patsy beg for more?"
"Don't think, know."
"What do I get if you fail?"
"Aha! The conditions of the bet. You give me a half hour alone, and if she begs for more, I keep going until she says enough. If she doesn't beg for more, I quit and I'll kiss your ass in front of the whole team, right here."
"You guys heard him," he said looking at Joe and Bobby. "Meet me at Patsy's house Saturday at two o'clock. We have a study date. I'll tell her you're coming along to help us with...what...we all have the same history class, so it's history. You're there to help us plan a project to present for extra credit. Somehow, I'll get her to let you kiss her. That's when your time starts, agreed?"
The Saturday date made sense. Most of our team were farm kids, who had to help out with chores on Saturdays, so all our games were played on Friday nights, which, farm-wise, was already wasted time.