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Jack had found the right place, he could feel Fay's muscles tensing on his fingers, he increased the pressure of his fingers on this place Fay's muscles tensed again as if shocked, her groaning became more gutteral. As Jack fingers worked on the inside of her cunt he flicked on her clit with the tip of his tongue. Only Erin knew how to find this place inside her, the sensations Jack was applying to her soaking wet pussy created a litany of visual images as she screwed her eyes shut. Wave after wave of tiny light explosions in the blackness combined with recollections of Erin fingering her to one delicious orgasm after another. Now, it was Jack, she silently congratulated him on his skill and with that she let go, she mentally cast herself adrift as his fingers and tongue took over. Her hips were rising and falling a sexual delirium washed over her. This would not be an idle first orgasm, this was going to crash over her hard. Fay's body strength surprised Jack, he found it. I drove back to my apartment. I didn’t know what to do. I felt dead, zapped. Bored. I didn’t want to do anything. A couple of hours later it was very cold out on the practice field. We were practicing kill-the-clock drill. The idea was to practice stopping the clock. Line up on the football without using a huddle. Just a predetermined play. Ends run sideline cuts. You drill the ball high and hard over the head of one of the ends out-of-bounds. Some people had stopped their cars and were parked along the edge of the field watching us. It was cold but not windy. Reeves kept shouting at us to hit hard on the play. Jacko and I were taking turns in the pocket. It should have been an easy practice except everybody started to sock. Reeves was stupid to keep the drill going as long as he did and telling everybody to sock. But I felt good, calling out the play and number, feeling different suddenly, forgetting the depression, dreaming again like a fool about Big Sunday. The ball was cold..
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