Double Tears
Chapter 125
“You would think it best to save your breath for running, but I often find screaming helps.”
—Mark Lawrence, Prince of Fools
LIVY AND I got to Donna’s about four o’clock. My parents had agreed to celebrate Sunday afternoon with me so I was clear for the night. I wondered what my girlfriends all had in store for me. Maybe I’d get to dip my wick in all of them. Well, a seventeen-year-old can dream, can’t he?
“Surprise!” they all yelled when I walked in the back door. I was puzzled. I knew they were all going to be there. What was the surprise? Then I saw her. Em stepped out from behind Rachel and walked toward me.
“Happy birthday, Brother,” she whispered as she closed to kiss me. And kiss! I was holding Em in my arms! I couldn’t believe it. I looked around the room while I kept Em held tightly to my chest. Joan had come down. And Cindy was here. It was the first time ever that all twelve of us were together in one place. I was overwhelmed and tears of joy were leaking out of my eyes as each of my girlfriends came up to give me a birthday kiss. Cindy managed to land this one on my lips but it was there and gone as fast as any kiss on the cheek.
“What…? How did you manage to get here? How long can you stay?” I asked Em as she finished greeting all our girlfriends as well.
“Our pod!” Em said. “They decided we all needed to be together for your birthday.”
“We pooled our funds,” Desi said. “It wasn’t too bad. But poor Em had to drive all the way to Kansas City to get a flight.”
“At least it was only one stop and I got here early this morning.”
“How early?”
“Donna picked me up at two.”
“I just can’t believe you’re really here. Thank you all for making this the happiest birthday ever!”
I grabbed Joan and pulled her in for another kiss and hug.
“I’m so glad you came down, too. You have as long a drive as Em had to get to Kansas City.”
“Yes, but I got out of town at six and was here by eleven. And my babe was waiting here at Donna’s for me.”
“None of us slept much before Em got here. And not much after, either,” Beca laughed. “While you and Livy were on the bus to West Noble, we were all cuddled up asleep in each other’s arms.”
“Um… What’s the plan now?” I asked, glancing toward Cindy.
“Dinner and birthday cake and presents,” Donna said.
“Don’t worry, Jacob,” Cindy said. “My parents are coming to pick me up at nine and everyone promised not to get naked or have an orgy before then.”
“Oh, God!” I moaned. I could feel the heat in my face. I knew Cindy knew all about us and that we were sexually active in the pod but I didn’t expect her to be so casual about it. At least she blushed a little.
Everyone but Cindy spent the night. For the first time, I think, in the history of her house, all four bedrooms were full. Em and I started out the night together in one of the upstairs bedrooms, but all night long it was like a game of musical beds. Only if there wasn’t an empty one when the music stopped, you just got in bed with whoever was there first. I didn’t make love with all my girlfriends but I did get to hold each of them naked in my arms and do a little kissing and petting. And some loving in a couple of instances. Nanette and Livy were especially demanding when they got in my bed. I was fine with that.
As promised, I took Em and went home for family celebration at noon. My favorite dish of Mom’s was beef stroganoff. Before you start thinking of gourmet meals, understand this is Indiana stroganoff, not New York or Moscow. It starts—like most Indiana gourmet dishes—with a can of cream of mushroom soup. I still loved it.
We had to take Em to the airport at four. Even with that, it would be well past midnight before she reached her dorm room in Salina.
Monday was the first day of the second grading period and the first day I decided to make my focus music and let subjects other than English and writing suffer. I didn’t just cut the classes or anything, but if I had errors in my accounting or a missing step in my chemistry lab experiment, I didn’t let it bother me. Most of the teachers took the upcoming test lightly since it was defined as a test of aptitude instead of ability, so they just stuck to their regular teaching plans. That would be different in the spring when we all took the NSRE again. They’d be teaching what they thought the questions on the test would be.
I ran a hard six miles Monday afternoon, not quite maintaining my 5:50 pace. Jock waved me on another lap and I really pushed to pick up some time on the last quarter mile. Then he waved me on again for another lap. And another. I noticed he was driving all the distance runners to keep going past the 10k mark. WTF?
When he finally waved me off the track, I stumbled a couple of steps and collapsed. A trainer got me back on my feet and started walking me around as he fed me sips of water.
“What was that all about?” I gasped when Jock caught up with me after we were all off the track. The other guys were being supported as they walked off the last mile we’d run. Jock called us all together.
“You guys have been running out of gas in the last mile,” Jock said. “You’ll do seven again on Wednesday and see if you can hold your pace together for another mile. That way, you’ll know you can do the 10k more easily in the last lap. Remember, semi-state next weekend is at The Plex with the run through campus and down by the river. You’ll be running a new course and that’s where we’ll run Wednesday. The new course loops down through Johnny Appleseed Park and the Coliseum on the west side of the river and then when you cross over to campus, you continue out and around Taylor University and Canterbury Green Golf Course. We’re close enough we can get a run in on that new trail so you should have a big advantage come Saturday.”
“Yes, sir,” we chorused and then started coughing and slugging down more water. He sent us to the showers.
I could have spent more time on my chemistry that night but I chose, instead, to practice for a couple of hours. Cindy and I didn’t have solos in the fall concert, but we’d be playing a feature slot in the holiday concert coming up in two months. I wanted every note perfect when LeBlanc turned his baton on me.
That’s the way the week went. We were all happy there was a teacher-parent conference day on Friday and no school. Cindy and I spent about four hours practicing our parts before I got to have time with Rachel for a date. I was looking forward to cross country being over so we could have later and maybe more vigorous dates but she came into the house with me after we’d just gone for a walk out by Eagle Swamp. We waved at our parents, playing cards on Friday night. They were often at it until after midnight.
“We’re going to shower and go to bed now,” Rachel said cheerfully. “Jacob needs his rest before the race tomorrow.” Our parents just said goodnight and kept playing cards. I definitely lived in an alternate reality.
There are definite differences between running a short course, like the one in Warsaw, and a long course, like the one at The Plex. On a short course, you can count out the markers and know how far it is to the next one. One lap, two laps, three laps. But on a full 10k cross country course, you couldn’t see the next milepost and were never sure exactly how far you were from the end. Of course, there were stripes painted on the ground every five hundred meters, but your mind can play tricks on you and you think you’ve already passed a marker that’s still way ahead.
The race had more competitors than any of our previous races. The 5k boys’ and girls’ runs had twenty teams of seven plus close to forty independent runners who had qualified from the four regions. That was a total of 178 runners. The coaches and IHSAA had agreed that schools would only field teams of five for the 10k instead of seven. They felt it would even out the competition. So the twenty schools fielded 100 runners plus twenty independents. If past experience was any indicator, there would be a mile or more between the first place and last place runners.
I knew I wasn’t the fastest runner in this field. The kid from Columbia City had beaten me last week and there was a guy from Penn who had run a thirty-four-minute 10k in the sectional. I figured if I could maintain 5:48 per mile, I could still be in the top three at thirty-six minutes.
One thing that makes The Plex a good place to run races with a lot of competitors is that the equivalent of six soccer fields for the start that slowly funnel into two trails that combine into one after a hundred yards. With fifty lanes spread across the entire length of a soccer field there were no more than five starting in any lane. And with 400 meters before the course narrowed into the chute for the trails, we had plenty of time to sort out our running order before we hit the narrow trails.
The bad part about going for a personal best—with Jock’s approval—was that my team was already strung out behind me and mixed with other runners by the end of the first mile. Ryan had become a pretty good pacesetter, though, and I was confident he could lead them at a consistent six-minute mile for at least five miles. By the end of the second mile, there were only a dozen runners obviously leading the pack. I was in the middle of them.
Sometimes I wish I could just run a route like this for pleasure. It went through campuses, golf courses, parks, and along the river. Running the race, all I was concerned with were the distance markers and keeping my feet securely under me. By the time we crossed the river and turned south for the last kilometer, the two front-runners were out of reach ahead of us. Three other runners were pacing me exactly as we entered the bulb. Five hundred meters before the finish line, the trail opens up wider so runners with a kick can compete with others who are close to them. As soon as the four of us hit the bulb, I could feel the race change. One of the guys overestimated his kick and took off ahead of us. We were still two hundred meters from the finish line when the other three of us passed him but one barely drew even with him. Now, with a hundred meters to go, I was stretching and pumping for all I was worth. I couldn’t tell which of us crossed the line first. I was guided into the chute behind him, but when I looked at my score card before I handed it to the judge, it said ‘3rd-tie.’ The other guy turned to me and grinned.
“Nice race, man,” I said. I looked at the time of 35:43.7. “A personal best for me.”
“Same here,” he said. “Couldn’t have done it without you.” We grinned some more and accepted water bottles from the assistants as we went through the chute.
You expect competition to get stiffer as you progress through the state tournament. Our guys got third as a team in the 5k. Our best runner just had an off day and couldn’t get in under 16:17 for twelfth place. We had four more runners, though, who came in between 16:50 and 17:00. Literal places were between forty and sixty, but their points were all in the thirties. Third place in the semi-state when the lead runner cuts 5k at under 15:30 is nothing to sneeze at.
Livy led our girls’ team to second place team score and ran fifth in the race with an 18:38. She was cooking.
My third-and-a-half place finish was good enough to carry the team to first place, just five-and-a-half points ahead of Fort Wayne Carroll. The guy from Columbia City didn’t have a team, so the runner from Fort Wayne Carroll got the one point for first. And the guy who pushed me so hard was from Concord and he didn’t have a full team either. That gave me two for the second-place finish. Three of our guys raced into the chute as a pack in 37:30. And our fifth guy was back about ten places. Maybe that sounds like they were a long way back but there were 120 runners and the last one in was twenty-two minutes after the winner. There just aren’t that many elite 10k runners.
Elite runner. Never in a hundred years would I have described myself as that, but here I was holding the ribbon. Weird.
Semi-state and state finals are run in the afternoon so teams can get there from farther away. Next week, we’d run in Terre Haute and, as I learned last year, that’s a four-hour drive without rest stops. Anyway, the races at The Plex had started at 1:30 and it was 4:00 by the time we’d all been recognized and awarded our ribbons and medals. I got back to school, got showered, and joined Livy again for our ride out to Donna’s. It seemed the farmhouse was becoming a regular weekend gathering place. I expected I’d spend the night out there again, but this time I planned to spend as much of it as possible with Desiree Whitcomb, who would turn seventeen on Monday.
The party had definitely started by the time Livy and I got there. I was ready for the food! Apparently, Desi’s parents had provided fried chicken and all the fixings for her birthday dinner with the pod. We ate off paper plates and used paper towels as napkins as we licked our greasy fingers. I think I had five pieces of chicken before I was done—but one was a wing so that hardly counts, right? Donna baked a beautiful cake. I almost missed it because Nanette had taken me to an upstairs bedroom to personally help me stretch after my race. She professed to be our most reserved and mature lover but you wouldn’t have proved it by the way she rode me. I felt like I’d just run the whole race again.
When we rejoined the party, attempting not to disrupt anything and blend in like we’d never left, I caught Cindy’s eye as she smirked openly. She was fast gaining the reputation of being a brat that had been Brittany’s. Well, I guess the title goes to the youngest.
Desi was cosplaying her birthday character—some unknown fairy princess I think she made up. Her princess outfit had a short skirt that kept flipping up to reveal her hot pink thong. The top was cut so daringly low, her boobs threatened to pop out every time she moved. It was auspicious how five minutes after Cindy left the party, they did. Even more amazing, there wasn’t a stitch of clothing on anyone in the pod five minutes after that.
Donna tossed a huge pile of towels on the end of the sofa and just said, “Protect the upholstery.” We laughed, but nearly everyone grabbed a towel to put under them. I was going to get right to Desi, but Brittany grabbed a straight chair, put a towel on it, and shoved me down. In a matter of seconds, her tight muscle-driven pussy was descending my length. She faced me and her pretty boobs were right in front of my mouth, so what could I do?
Nearly suffocate on them! I pulled back to catch my breath as Brittany continued to bounce on me and saw Donna on an edge of the sofa with her legs spread practically to her ears and Beca munching our former teacher to orgasm. The suddenness and strength of my orgasm took both Brittany and me by surprise. She was adding plentiful juices to the mix before I was done shooting.
For a while, I didn’t think anyone was going to bed. We hadn’t had a pod orgy in a long time and just floating among my girlfriends with kisses, sucks, licks, and caresses felt like something I could do all night.
Sometime around midnight, I found myself in Desi’s arms at last and we kissed.
“Come, slave,” she said. “I want you.”
“Am I your slave?” I laughed.
“I’m sure you still owe me a day. I could have the others verify it.”
“I trust you. Lead me where you will, mistress.”
Desi led me to an upstairs bedroom where she proceeded to lead my face between her legs. After she’d writhed on my tongue for a while, she rolled to her stomach and pulled my cock toward her opening.
“Hold my boobs!” she commanded. “They’re slapping me in the face when I pound back against you.” I willingly obliged. Of course, reaching around to hold her generous orbs meant pushing up tighter against her and her pounding back took on shorter strokes. I did my best to increase the length by rocking my hips back and slamming into her.
We got to sleep sometime later, spooned together with nothing but a sheet pulled over us. I woke up a couple of hours later with Desi’s ass rocking back and forth against my renewed erection.
“You awake?” I whispered. As an answer, she reached over her shoulder and handed me a bottle of lube.
“You know what to do next,” she said.
Yeah. I knew. Before long, I was buried to the balls in her ass and we were stroking to yet another come.
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