Once More With Feelings
Chapter 30A: And the World Turns - Again

Copyright© 2004 by The Night Hawk

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 30A: And the World Turns - Again - Life's a bitch, baby. Then you die. Or do you? What IF you had a second chance? Be careful of what you wish for! Sometimes the shoe lands on the wrong foot!

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Science Fiction   Time Travel   DoOver   Oral Sex   Petting  

Friday morning, March 14, 1975

Something woke me. I opened my eyes to see my Darling sound asleep beside me, her hand just touching mine. I heard a soft thwipp as the leaves of the digital clock dropped to mark another minute, and I lifted my head to see the display show 6:20. The dim light showed that the other bed contained only one of our roommates, and I assumed the other was in the bathroom. This reminded me that my bladder was telling me something.

I carefully maneuvered myself over Wendy, trying not to disturb her, but she still mumbled a little mmf as my movement rocked her on the mattress. Nude, I padded barefoot into the dim bathroom and came to a surprised halt, as I took in the sight of Annette, sitting in the bathtub with her back to the door. She was scrunched up with her knees beneath her chin, her arms wrapped around her legs, and she was rocking slowly back and forth.

Slowly, I went to kneel beside the tub. "Honey, you'll round off your tailbone doing that," I said quietly.

Her head snapped up as she looked at me with a tear-streaked face and terror in her eyes. She had been so wrapped up in her own world she hadn't even realized I was there. I reached out with both arms, and she grabbed desperately at me as if she were about to be sucked down the drain, her tears wet on my bare shoulder.

After holding her tight and stroking her still-short hair for a few minutes, I said quietly, "You worried about the tournament, Honey?"

I felt her nod tearily against my shoulder. "I don't know if I can do it, Patti!" she sniffled. "This is the big one, and... and... I don't..." She paused, then it came out in a rush, "I'm so afraid I'll let you all down!" she cried.

"But Honey, what makes this different from any other game day? We've done it before, we can do it again!" I said with some puzzlement.

She pulled back to look into my eyes. "Patti, this is your first year at St Ursula's. I've been on the volleyball team for four years, and for three years, we weren't worth shit! This year we won our first game against the best team in the city, and then we kept winning and winning; everybody expects us to keep winning, and now it's the last day" Her tears ran afresh, and her lips quivered as she whispered, "everybody..."

Everybody?

Oh!

I wiped away some of her tears with my thumb. "She loves you!" I said quietly. "And win or lose, she will still love you tonight! Honey, no matter how serious people may take it, it's still a game, not a cure for cancer or world peace. We all love you, and no matter what happens today, tonight we will still love you. Hell, girlfriend," I grinned, "this game won't amount to more than a footnote in your biography!"

"My... my biography!" she squeaked incredulously.

"Oh you bet, girl! You're gonna be in the history books, and they'll probably name a school or something after you! But it ain't gonna get you out of track, no way!" I stood, pulling her up with me. "Come on, there's someone out there who needs a kiss and a cuddle."

With an arm around her shoulders, I led her from the bathroom and guided her over to where Mandy was just sitting up on the bed. "Honey?" she asked tentatively as she saw Annette's tear-streaked face. "What's wrong?"

"I... I..." she started.

"It's okay," I interrupted, looking directly at Mandy, "it's just that Annette was afraid of disappointing someone today, if things don't go well."

Her mouth formed an "O" of understanding as she jumped off the bed and wrapped her arms around Annette. "I love you, Honey," she whispered, and Annette's tears started again, but this time they were happy tears. I stood beside them, a hand rubbing each of their backs, then was hit from the side as Wendy wrapped her arms around Mandy and me.

"Group hug!" she exclaimed, then, "Why are you crying?" as she looked at Annette.

"Annette was worried about the games today," I explained, "but now it's happy tears."

"Oh good," she said as she snuggled to me. "Anyway, it's just more games, innit..."

I felt Annette's shoulders start to shake again, but she took her head from Mandy's to look at me with a huge tear-streaked grin. "Thank you, Wendy, thank you Patti!" and leaned to kiss me on the cheek as she hugged me with one arm. She leaned back a bit and looked me in the eye. "Why is it that sometimes I feel you're my big sister?"

Now it was my turn to get a bit teary. "Oh thank you Annette, that's the nicest thing anybody's ever said to me!" I said as I hugged her back.

We stood for a few moments more, just sharing the feelings, when my stomach let out a huge growl and broke us all up into peals of laughter. "Okay, breakfast!" Annette giggled.


By 7:30, the four of us were in the restaurant, where we found Dr. Parker sipping on a cup of coffee while he looked over the morning paper.

"What's up Doc?" I asked. "Trouble sleeping?"

"He probably had a hard time getting to sleep," quipped Wendy.

"Maybe something kept him up," added Mandy.

Annette and I laughed. I thought Dr. Parker would be embarrassed by these comments, but he was grinning from ear to ear. "Well if it isn't my eight favorite sights," he said," which started us all laughing.

We pulled up chairs on both sides of him, as he explained that he had been an early riser from his days in the military medical corp. Then he opened a notebook that I had seen with him yesterday. I never thought about it before, but now I saw that he had all kinds of notes in it. The waitress came and took our orders. Figuring that we had plenty of time to digest a good breakfast we ordered bacon, eggs, hash browns, and lots of OJ.

"I'm not sure how much you'll remember when it's game time," he said, "but here's some information you might find useful."

We looked at his notes while shoveling scrambled eggs into our mouths. During the previous day's games, he had marked all the physical attributes and weaknesses of our opponents today. He had marked which player was left handed or right handed, and which one favored a leg or position. "In physical agility," he said, "you outmatch nearly everyone playing. That also means that after the tournament, I want all of you in for X-rays, and I want to see a lot of use of the whirlpool. You can't let your muscles go slack now."

"BC is tough, but they rely on brute strength instead of strategy and finesse. More of their spikes end up out of court than in. Nova Scotia's real strength is in just three players, who are all left-handed. Their opposition, so far, hasn't been watching and doesn't know how to handle mollydukers, so they've been able to sneak points in. But," he continued, raising a finger to emphasize the point, "as a result, they've been overworked. Two of the three of them are always on the court."

I was impressed. We had a coach who worked us hard, and we had a doctor who was also an analyst.

"Mollydukers?" Annette asked curiously.

"English slang," he smiled. "A left-handed boxer. A lot of right-handers don't know how to handle them. Now, Quebec is going to be the team to beat," he continued. "They're big and strong. I'd like to see the blood tests from their team. I've never seen so much muscle in any girls' team."

Jim Blake and Brett Faison came in about that time. Jim swiped a strip of bacon from my plate before pulling up a chair next to Wendy. "Been scoping out the competition Doc?" he asked, craning his head to look at the notebook.

"Doctor Parker was just cluing us in as to what to expect today," said Annette. "Now it comes down to who we play and in what order."

"Personally I'd like to see you girls go against Quebec first," said Brett.

"I agree," said Jim. "If you beat the tournament favorites first, it will give you a psychological edge over the other two teams."

"I thought we were the tournament favorites," said Wendy, with a mock pout.

Brett laughed and said we were still considered the underdogs, even with our unbeaten streak and lopsided wins.

"We'll need more than a ten minute break between matches," I said.

"We'll rotate more," said Annette.

And that was the way the conversation went right up to the time the rest of the team came down for breakfast. Mandy and Annette took groups of players aside, and while they ate, clued them in to what we had learned. Wendy and I stayed at the table, sandwiching Doc Parker between us. I was still hungry as a horse, so I started to pick bacon off Jim's plate. When he complained, I told him it was the penalty for him taking food from the mouth of a youngster. Wendy was munching on a fresh croissant, liberally spread with butter and jam. Okay, so it wasn't the healthiest choice, but this girl, my lover and best friend, had lost so much weight since I met her that I would hand feed her chocolates. I realized how much I had missed in my other life by passing up rounded girls. I missed some of the padding she used to have. Sure, her curves were filling in nicely, but I had fond memories of cuddling a more Rubenesque Wendy.

Linda and Julie arrived and joined us. Linda was positively glowing. I'd have to ask Julie what her secret was.

Sister Elizabeth and Sister Gabe came and sat across from us with Father Ed between them and Robert on the side of Sister Elizabeth. He seemed unconcerned as his daughter worked her way through the team a group at a time.

"Pre-game jitters?" he asked Wendy and me.

"Nope," said Wendy. "After all, it's just another game."

Doctor Parker laughed, Jim choked on his coffee, and Sister Gabe stared at Wendy like she had grown two heads.

"I'm going to quote you on that," said Jim.

Robert chuckled and said, "Wendy has it right. They're out there playing their hearts out, and to them it has been just one game after another, but they've never become mean spirited or taken it as seriously as we adults have."

I arched an eyebrow at him.

"My apologies," he said. "These young ladies have played seriously, but it's us older adults who have been living vicariously through their accomplishments. We really should be ashamed we're thinking of nothing but winning when they have already done so much for the school, for the hospital..."

"Not to mention enrollment," added Sister Elizabeth.

"On that note, Sister," I said, "why can't we find out our marks now?"

Sister Elizabeth looked at me and raised her own eyebrows. "I've told you that you passed, Patricia, do you seek more glory?"

I could see Sister Gabe smirking, so I knew I had done well enough, but added, "Oh no, Sister. I just want to be sure I qualified to come back next semester."

Everyone at the table started laughing.


The Goddess was smiling on us on this fine day. The sun was shining and the birds were singing, the ice on the Rideau Canal was melting, and our first opponent for the final day of the tournament was Quebec!

They were big, and they were strong, but what they had sacrificed to build muscle mass was agility and speed. Not much, mind you - they were very good - but we had an edge and used it to the fullest. We all ran laps at school between practices - sometimes it was part of practice, and as I watched from the bench when I was rotated out, it looked almost like a dance on the court. It was not an easy victory. 25-16 on the first game, and we had substituted a lot! But our endurance won the second game with a 25-10 score. All we needed was to win two more matches and the title would be ours. Only one other team could take the title away from us, if they won both of their matches, and then they would still have to beat us to win it.

For this last day of the tournament, only one net was up, just two teams competing at a time, and the court was set up on the long side to allow more spectators. I don't know what the price of admission was for this event, but I hope it all went to a worthy cause.

We watched and checked Doc Parker's notes as Nova Scotia whipped BC. As the doctor had noted, it was the missteps BC made when one of the Nova Scotia Three spiked left handed that won them the match in three games.

We had a half hour of recovery time while the judges had the court cleared and mopped, and then we were up against BC ourselves. Having just been beaten by Nova Scotia less than an hour before, they were not in peak form either physically or mentally. It didn't seem fair that they should have to face us so quickly, but I suppose it wouldn't have been very fair to Nova Scotia if they had to face Quebec so soon either.

I had misgivings about plowing these girls under, but we couldn't afford the luxury of going easy on them. We needed to win, and the faster we did it, the more rested we would be for our own final match. They were still formidable opponents, but lacking in stamina. Annette grimaced as we served first. I could tell she hated to do this as much as I did. We all did, but we also had not worked so hard, so many hours, and practiced so much to dwell in pity for the team. They had made it to the big game, which meant that Vancouver had won their Regional and Provincial cups. They just weren't going to win the National cup. Proof of that came quickly when the volley was returned and Annette nailed it for our first point. Annette and Krissy made most of the spike points in the first game with Mandy rounding out most of the others. I even scored two myself, when I just couldn't volley to one of the seniors. The first game ended 25-1. The second game was over even faster, as the seniors picked up momentum, and it was a shutout for the Saints.

We watched and took notes ourselves as Quebec got their butts kicked by the team from Nova Scotia. Nova Scotia's biggest weakness was that reliance on just three players, and in the break before the last game, as we compared notes, we found we had all reached the same conclusion. Nova Scotia would come into the last match tired from their victory over Quebec, and our strategy was simple. Keep the ball away from the Big Three.

It was easier said than done.

When we took to the court, the entire auditorium went silent. One of these two teams would go home with the gold, the other with the silver. On the court were the best two teams in Canada for 1975, and the '76 Olympics were just one year away.

The referee tossed the coin, and Nova Scotia won the serve. Since we had to volley the first ball after service, their support team set up one of The Three. Thank the Goddess for Dr. Parker. He had noticed what we had missed, and we were prepared for it because of his astuteness. Annette faked to her right, then slid back to her left, blocking the spike perfectly on a high leap and sent the ball careening back behind the forwards into soft territory. But play didn't end there. Soft territory? Yes, but weak? No way. They had obviously worked on their teamwork as well, and the ball was caught low but raised and volleyed forward for another spike.

Annette didn't get close to it this time as another of The Three hammered it down into what they thought was our weak zone. Wendy. The look of surprise on the player's face was priceless, as Wendy lobbed the ball right to Annette, who took the moment to slam one home herself, this time hitting an open spot on the floor. This was already shaping up to be a tough match.

The first game took much longer than anyone expected, and the score reflected it. If we had practiced, they had certainly done the same, and like us, they had stamina. We won the first game 25-19. This was the highest score against us the entire season! We had played over 50 minutes on the first game, though to the credit of both teams, neither received a foul for too many touches on the ball before volleying.

We had a ten-minute break, during which we all drank lightly, and then Annette called for a huddle.

"This isn't going to be easy," she began. "If we want to finish undefeated for the season, we'll have to do something special in this game." She grinned widely. "It's just as well we have an ace up our sleeve!"

She really had everybody's attention now.

"You realize these girls haven't seen our real game! Patti," she said, pointing at me, "you and Wendy have been feeding the seniors to make us look good, and the other juniors have been copying you. That stops, 'cause if the scouts haven't seen us by now, it doesn't matter. Patti, I want you up front, we need the power. Wendy, Mandy, Jeannie, I want you to feed all the shooters, make every shot count!" She looked around at all of us. "We ready? Okay, let's go put these girls out of their misery!"

With a laugh and, "Go Saints!" we took our positions on the court. Mandy and Wendy took up positions between and slightly behind Krissy, Annette, and me. Our first serve grazed the top of the net. Any closer and it would have fouled, and it was just right for one of the Nova Scotia back row to lift and prep it for one of The Three, but it came in just a bit too slow and a bit too high, and the next thing I heard was Wendy calling the ball and then calling my name a second later. I had just enough time to turn and see Wendy jumping up under the shot, literally putting it in my hands, and I turned and spiked it to the open area I had seen her indicate with her eyes. First point.

This game didn't go on as long as the first, but every point was fought for, and with Wendy and Mandy dancing around the backcourt like whirlwinds, we let them call the shots. We played most of this game on verbal cues from our teammates. We had to rotate, and thanks to team practice and a super team of girls, we could afford and enjoy those few minutes on the bench, but when all was said and done, even our team had its own powerhouse. There are good athletes and great athletes, and then you have the exceptional athletes. Annette and Krissy were exceptional. Mandy and Wendy were great. I was lucky. I also knew that one day Wendy would be as exceptional to the world as she already was to me.

The game ran as fast as the sweat from our brows, and when the final whistle blew on a point scored by Krissy, we ended up unbeaten with the last game score of 25-11. The auditorium erupted in cheers. Not for the victors, but for what many must have considered the match of the year, if not the decade! Linda and Julie passed out water bottles and towels, and as we drank and wiped our heads, we walked across the court to congratulate the team from Nova Scotia. Unlike the usual just swapping of handshakes and mumbled 'good game, ' we actually talked to them. I heard Annette telling the captain of the team that she regretted graduating this year, as she would have looked forward to another match. Both Annette and I were floored when Jenny, the captain of the Nova Scotia team, said, "But we'll be playing together next year instead of across from each other."

Annette's look of surprise must have clued Jenny in. "They haven't told you, have they?" It wasn't really a question. "The Olympic selection committee decided this morning that eight of us graduating seniors were going to be invited to join the Canadian Women's Volleyball Team. Your name was at the top of the list."

"Oh my God!" Annette started bouncing in joy. "Why... how... who knew about this?" she asked.

"Why, I suppose I might have forgotten to mention it earlier," said Sister Gabe, who had come to congratulate the Nova Scotia coach. She was smiling. "I was going to tell you all about it at supper tonight."

Annette looked around for her father, and I laughed. I thanked Jenny and moved on to mingle with the other players before we headed out to shower and change. The awards ceremony would start in an hour.

As we trudged to the locker room, we saw Linda, Julie, and their needles along with Dr. Parker and some official looking guy in a suit. Damn blood tests.

After parting with gallons of blood, we hit the showers. We were too tired to fool around. Physical and mental exhaustion had set in. The last game had been played, the season was over, and most of us realized we would never play this game again with this team. It could have led to some serious depression, but we were the Saints. We had beaten the odds, and we now had an unbroken string of wins that could never be taken away from us. Thirty-two matches and not beaten in a single game. Sports writers would be changing all their stat books over the weekend. I nudged Wendy as we rinsed off. "Not bad considering we never even intended to join eh?"

 
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