Chapter 2: Tryouts

The next week I adjusted my running route to take me over to the Salaway’s and back. Eight miles round-trip gave me plenty of time to think and built my endurance as well. It was usually just about sunrise as I reached their house and turned to head back home. I doubted anyone ever saw me, except their cat.

I knew my summer money and the income from my cattle would not be enough of a stake to leverage quickly. I wanted to have an impact on the world, if I could. I also wanted to have an impact on my own life. The first time through, Mom had been killed shortly after I graduated from college when she was in a wreck with a drunk driver.

If it had happened twenty years later, I’m sure she would have survived the crash, but safety laws and features in cars were just not up to standards in 1979. The public was ignorant of the things that could be done to make them safer. At the same time, fuel efficiency was horrible. America loved the muscle car that might be lucky to get ten miles a gallon on leaded gas.

I could help with both of those.

As I ran for the next week, I worked out my plan to leverage my modest income and savings and lay a groundwork for the future. The world seemed to be on my side as a gentle summer storm system moved across the county and prevented most outside work for a few days.

I spent the time at my drafting board. I had built one in my room in eighth grade when I had to take industrial arts where we learned the basics of drafting skills. I knew the Intel 8088 microprocessor had just been announced. I also knew that no one in the auto industry was thinking about the revolution just on the horizon that embedded systems would lead to for car performance. It was my chance to beat them to it.

I drew out schematics for drive-by-wire systems that would make power steering cheap and practical. Anti-lock brake systems were also drawn out. Electric cars were possible, but limited by battery technology as well as motor efficiency. I missed the internet as I mailed away for spec sheets on the microprocessors I would have to use, but worked on simple electrical feedback systems while I waited.

By the time the weather cleared, I had seven patent possibilities in mind. Now I just needed to build them.

“Mom, can you help me buy a car?” I asked one day at dinner.

“You’re too young for a license,” she reminded me needlessly.

“I know, but for the car I want to fix up, I should have it by the time I’m done.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I want to get a junker that I can rebuild. I’ve got some ideas that I’d like to test out. You know, I want to tinker with it.”

I had always been a tinkerer. I liked to figure out how things worked. My uncle had gotten in the habit of asking me what I thought when fixing things, not because he was polite, but because I could usually figure out how to make things work.

Mom put down her spoon and looked at me. “What kind of junker do you have in mind?”

I smiled and pulled out a paper. It was folded to the classified section. I had circled an add for 1969 Plymouth Roadrunner. It was a muscle car built along the lines of the Dodge charger, but cheaper. I wanted it for it’s frame more than anything. It was priced at $400 and marketed as not-starting and not drivable.

Mom read the add carefully and then looked at me again. “It will take a lot of work to make that a car worth driving,” she said.

“I know. But, I can afford it, and I really don’t plan on just refurbishing it. I think I can make a better car. I want the frame and chassis and the transmission. I don’t care about the motor or the rest.”

She thought for a few more minutes and then nodded. “I’ll talk to your Uncle Ben and we’ll see.”

That weekend, I wrote a check for the car, and another for the flatbed tow truck to deliver it to the farm. I smiled as we lowered it into a cleared out section of the machine shed. Everyone else saw a pile of junk, but I saw the start of a bright future.

“No slacking off chores or work to play with this thing,” Uncle Ben warned. He had tried to talk both my mother and I out of this “waste of money” as he called it.

“No, sir,” I agreed.

It was the last time for nearly a year that Uncle Ben said anything about my car.

I had a car that could not be driven and no license, but that did not stop me from having Mom drive Jeryl and I to a movie or two over the course of the next few weeks. She thought it was cute and I tolerated her comments and smug smiles to be able to spend some almost alone time with Jeryl. She was a cute, fun girl. I liked her. She seemed to like me as well. We held hands and did the typical light kissing in the back of the theater, but didn’t have the time or place to do more. I felt Jeryl wasn’t ready anyway, so resigned myself to handling my own physical needs in the meantime.

One day, at the end of July, I was out running down the Salaway’s road when Jordan pulled up alongside me in her black Mustang. “Hi there, studly,” she said as I slowed to a stop next to her.

“Hi, Jordan. How are you?” I was sweaty. She looked cool and collected as always. her brunette hair was pulled back in a pony-tail and she had on a loose blouse of light yellow cotton. She looked beautiful as always.

“I’m good. You know my sister likes you a lot, right?”

I was surprised by the question, but nodded. “I like her too,” I said.

“Good, but that can get you into trouble. I know you have needs. So does she. I don’t want you two to do something stupid, so I’m going to step in and make sure you are both good to each other.”

Obviously, she had no way of knowing I was not just a fourteen-year-old bundle of hormones and urges. Just as obviously, I had no idea of what she was talking about.

“You keep running past our place today and go to the pond. I’ll meet you there.” With that, she smoothly accelerated away from me and drove on down the road. I ran past the Salaway’s but saw no one at the house or in the yard. I went on down the road and turned into the pond lane. Jordan’s car was parked under a tree, just out of sight from the road. Jordan was leaning against the trunk of the car. Her long legs were shown off in a denim skirt. She watched me closely as I jogged up to her.

“You run all the way over here and back?” she asked.

“Every day,” I replied as I worked to catch my breath. I usually did the eight mile round trip right at forty-two minutes, or averaged a six minute mile.

“Wow. Can you still do seventy push-ups as well?”

“I do a hundred now. Sit-ups too. And twenty pull-ups. I’ve got football tryouts in less than two weeks.”

She looked me up and down. “You must be hot. Do you want to take a dip in the pond to cool off?”

I stopped pacing. “With you or by myself?” I asked.

She did not expect such a direct answer and blushed. “With me. I’m a little hot and bothered too,” she said and she stroked my bicep with her hand.

Before I could say another word, she put a finger to my lips and then stepped back and began unbuttoning her blouse. Her eyes stayed on mine as her fingers quickly undid the buttons and then she spun to the car, letting the blouse twirl around her along with her skirt. She popped the trunk and pulled out an old blanket and a couple of towels. She handed them to me and the shrugged her blouse off her shoulders.

I drank in the smooth tanned expanse of her back, noticing the light down of hair that caught the sunlight on her shoulders. I couldn’t help myself. I stepped closer and kissed the back of her neck. She leaned back into me and then turned to kiss me. All too soon she pushed me away.

“I can’t get all sweaty,” she said as she pushed her skirt and underwear down her hips. Her dark pubic bush was neatly trimmed in a narrow strip. She let me look for a minute and then began pulling my t-shirt over my head. Her hands traced their way down my arms and shoulders as I lifted them to get free of my shirt. Then they slowly descended down my pecs and paused at the waistband of my running shorts. She cupped my erection before pushing my shorts down.

“I’ve been thinking about seeing this ever since the night in the tent,” she said as she wrapped her delicate fingers around my manhood. “I didn’t think it could be this big on such a young guy.”

I was secretly pleased, though I knew I was not that large. Realistically, I was average or a little over average. Her comments made me wonder if Steve made the cut for average or not. My guess was not.

Her fingers stroked me to full hardness. Then she surprised me again by bending down and engulfing me in her mouth as her fingers dropped to cup my balls. She hummed as she bobbed up and down on my shaft. It was divine.

“Oh, God,” I moaned as I tried not to come immediately. She paused with just the tip of my dick resting on her tongue and then slowly descended again. All the way down she went, then held me inside her completely before giving my balls a gentle squeeze. Then back up.

This time she paused and said, “Come in my mouth and then we’ll swim.” She returned to her task without looking up. It only took two more intervals of her steady progress before I was shooting deep into the back of her mouth. She held still and swallowed as my abs clenched and forced spurt after spurt into her. Finally, she suctioned me clean and looked up with a smile.

I grabbed her head and kissed her passionately. One thing I had learned in my past, was that any woman willing to suck you dry, really appreciated being kissed afterward. Jordan was no different. At first she seemed to try to pull away, but then mashed her naked body against mine.

Finally, we parted. “Let’s go take a dip,” she said as she grabbed my cock and began leading me to the pond.

The water was chilly, but the sun and our shared body heat made it more enjoyable than I would have expected. We gently washed each other. I cupped cold water and let it cascade over her breasts and then bent down to warm her obviously cold nipples with my tongue. I let my fingers explore her body, probing her womanhood and brining her to a small orgasm in the cold water.

“I think we’re finally cleaned off enough,” she said as she led me back to the bank and we stretched out together on the blanket. I tried to pull her close to me, but she pushed me on my back as she leaned on an elbow and looked me up and down.

“We need to talk first,” she said.

I smiled at the phrase. First implied there would be a second.

“I don’t know how experienced you are,” she said, “but I know from your kisses, and just now that you have a lot more experience than Jeryl.” I shrugged but kept quiet. “I also know that my sister is going to get very turned on by you if you are ever left alone for too long. I know I am.”

This time I smiled.

“Don’t smile at me like that, you green-eyed devil. I’m a senior. You’re a freshman. You’re dating my sister, sort of. We can’t be a couple.”

Her words floored me. I never imagined she was thinking something like that.

“No,” she said almost to herself. “We can be friendly, but you are not mine, and I can’t be yours. But I also have to make sure you know how to treat my sister.”

I smiled again and rolled into her. She flopped on her back and I quickly found her nipple with my lips. I sucked her gently for a moment, then the other nipple, and then began kissing my way down her tight stomach.

“Is this how I should treat her?” I asked playfully as I dipped my tongue into her belly button. “Or is this better?” My head lowered until I was kissing the top of her cute pubic bush. “Or this?” I slipped my tongue into her and flicked it across her stiff clitoris.

“Aragh!” she moaned as an orgasm washed over her. I kept licking and kissing. I wanted her to come much harder. I lapped at her slowly, as my hands cupped her ass and lifted her up to me. She was delicious and wet well beyond any water from the pond. I gathered her moisture on my finger and slowly inched it into her surprisingly tight pussy. She moaned louder, but pushed against the top of my head.

“Not there. Slip it in my back door,” she moaned.

I was surprised, but complied. My finger dipped lower and gently tapped her rosebud. Firmly, but slowly, I pushed inward. Her moans grew as I tongued her clit. As my finger finally popped insider her, she came with a loud scream”

“Oh, God, yes. That’s it! Oh, God.”

Slowly she came down from her high. I tried to lick her one more time, but she pushed my head away. “No more right now,” she said. My finger remained just inside her tight ass. I wiggled it and watched her shudder before slipping it out.

It took her several minutes to regain her breath. “You are amazing,” she said as she pulled me up for a kiss. She was obviously not shy about sharing her own juices. We kissed lazily for a few minutes before she noticed my stiff prick pressing against her thigh.

“I’ll take care of that, but we really have to talk first,” she said.

“So talk,” I replied.

She took a deep breath. “Jyl, Jeryl and I are all virgins, and we all plan on remaining that way until we get married. Mom insists and has our doctor check. We get cut off if she thinks we’ve had intercourse.”

I was surprised, but shrugged. “Okay. Obviously there are things to do besides intercourse.”

“Exactly,” she said. “But I had to make sure you knew the limits that Jeryl would have to place on you. I know she likes you too much for her own good. If you guys got carried away in the moment, she could be ruined. But I also know you both have needs. I wanted to make sure you knew how to deal with them. Hers and yours.”

“That’s awful nice of you,” I said.

She blushed. “Okay, I have needs too and they don’t always get satisfied as well has they have been today.” She blushed as she said it.

“If you can hold yourself together when you’re with her, she’ll learn to take care of you as well. Jyl and I will talk to her and guide her, but you can’t pressure her.”

“I’d never do that,” I said earnestly.

“I don’t think you would, but I had to make sure. That’s why I stopped you today.”

Her hand slipped down to grab my prick again. “This is bigger than I’m used to, but I promised I’d take care of it and I will.” She rolled over and pulled a bottle of baby oil from between the towels. She pushed me on my back and quickly oiled her hands up and began stroking my member. It was a wonderful hand job, but after the earlier blow job, it felt a little anticlimactic. I should have known better.

Jordan swiftly straddled my hips, rising up above my stiff prick and transferred some of the oil in her hands to her own rear end. I could look down my body between us and see her fingers working into her own asshole. She moaned as she looked down at me.

“Jeryl won’t be ready for this for quite a while, but I made a promise to take care of you today if you were good.” She grabbed my cock again and lowered herself until it was pushing firmly against her oiled passage. “You’ve been very good, so I guess I get to be a little bad and good for both of us.” Slowly she forced herself lower on my cock until I popped past her sphincter. She stopped with just the head of my prick inside her back passage and leaned down to kiss me passionately.

“You feel so good back there,” she whispered as she ground her tits against my chest and slowly lowered herself more fully onto me.

“Oh, shit, you’re big,” she said as her pubic bone pressed down on me.

“Too big?” I asked.

She grinned at me. “Not on your life. The hard part is done. Just let me get used to you for a minute.” She kissed me some more and then slowly started rising and lowering herself, stopping on the down stroke to grind her clit against me.

“Oh, god. I’m going to come again. I want you to shoot inside my ass. Please Paul, I want to know you are enjoying this as much as I am.”

She didn’t need to say much more than that. The first time through, Jordan Salaway had been a source of fantasies for me. None of those were close to the feeling of her hot ass clenching my dick as her beautiful tits pressed against my chest. I arched my back to meet her thrusts and lifted us off the blanket. As we dropped down, we both had shattering orgasms.

I felt my dick pulse in her hot ass again and again, stimulated just by the thought of what I was doing as she moaned and writhed on top of me. Finally, after several minutes, we both fell still and silent.

“That was amazing,” I finally said.

“Yes, it was. But if Jyl or Jeryl ever ask, we just talked today, okay?” Her expression was serious, even if her beautiful brown eyes were only inches from mine and maybe just a little out of focus.

“Okay,” I promised.

Carefully, Jordan lifted herself off my softening prick. “Let’s take another quick dip and then you need to get back to your run.”

She was walking a little awkwardly as we went back into the pond and rinsed ourselves off. “Paul, Jeryl will need to go slow, even if she doesn’t want to. You understand that, right?”

I nodded as I finished toweling dry and slipped back into my almost dry running gear.

“Good. If you need some relief that she is not ready for, I want you to let me know. I love my sister, but I like what we did today quite a lot, too. If we are careful and discreet, this doesn’t have to be a one-time training session.”

I stepped close to her for a second and gave another kiss. It was my turn to grin. “You do know that I’m serious about my training commitments, right?” Before she could answer, I turned and started jogging down the lane to the road.

Tryouts were almost a let down. Coach Miller did not give me a second look as we warmed up. He was mechanical calling off names for our scores as we finished each event. Sit-ups were first.

“Tanner?” Coach called.

“Seventy-five, coach.” Bill Tanner answered. He was a town kid that I barely knew.

“Taylor?”

“One-hundred, coach.”

“Woods?”

Push-ups and pull-ups were the same. He called our name and we gave our results. I was the only one to max out all the events, but he never even looked at me. The three miles was on a blacktop road with a painted starting line in blue.

“Out and back, boys. No turning before the marker. I’ll be at the turn point to make sure there is no cheating.” Without another word, he raised his whistle to his lips and blew. We all took off in a pack.

I could tell right away that there were some good runners, but no real speed demons. We quickly spread apart into two packs. The leading group of ten or so was right on a six minute pace. It felt good to run with a group instead of alone. We slowly separated ourselves from the remaining boys.

True to his word, Coach Miller was standing next to his car at the turning point, calling out the time.

“Eight fifty-two,” he yelled as the first boy turned.

“Eight fifty-six,” he called as I hit the blue line and reversed directions.

I was in third place, and felt good. I stayed a few seconds behind the leader, a sophomore I did not know. About a mile later, with the finish line in sight, the leader seemed to slow a little. I pulled along side him.

“We do it all again tomorrow, kid, so you should pace yourself.” He was not out of breath, but not just talking easily either.

I grinned and leaned forward to put on a little more speed. “I have been.” Steadily I pulled away from him. The varsity coach was at the finish line with a stop watch and a senior to assist him.

“Seventeen, fifty!” He yelled as I crossed. “Good run kid. What’s your name?”

“Taylor, sir.”

“Good Job. See you tomorrow.”

That was the first day.

The second day was the same.

A few people improved their scores, but I led the pack. Coach Miller finally deigned to notice me at the end of the run.

“Good job, Taylor. Glad to see you were serious.”

We all hung around to see the final standings. My name was at the top of the list, followed by a large group of sophomores. The guy I had passed was second. His name was Jim Morris.

“Good try-out, kid. I’m Jim. Jim Morris.” I shook his hand as we watched others try to sprint past each other for the finish.

“Paul Taylor,” I replied.

“What position are you trying for?”

“Linebacker. You?”

“QB, all the way. I got a little time last year, but this is my chance to show the coaches what I can do. Are you a transfer?”

I nodded.

“Thought so. I didn’t see you around the middle school last year when we were scouting kids.”

“Okay, ladies,” Coach Miller called as the last runner crossed the finish line. “All you sophomores pick a buddy to show the ropes to.” Jim looked at me and gave me a thumbs up and a grin. “Tomorrow morning we will start at 7:00 AM sharp. If you want to play Knights football, you’re going to have to prove it everyday, not just at tryouts. I don’t play favorites and I don’t stand for grab-assing or laziness. If you don’t have decent cleats and the gear on the players list, get it today. Any questions?”

“No, Coach!” all the sophomores yelled.

“Freshmen, when I ask a question, I expect an answer. Hit the track and let’s try it again!”

I was on Jim’s heels as he raced to the cinder track surrounding the football field. The coach reminded me of a Marine Sergeant in more ways than one. Jim and I were first back around. As soon as everyone was back the coach roared again. “Any Questions?”

“No, Coach!” we all yelled back.

I quickly fell into a great rhythm with chores, football and working with Uncle Ben and my cousins. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed challenging myself physically. I had always had a certain disdain for jocks before, but now thought I began to understand them. For many, it was about being better than someone else, but for the best, like Jim and a few others, it was about being the best they could be. If that was better than others, that was no concern to them, even if it did make them feel good. I found I liked to compete. I also found that I was mostly competing against my last performance. If I ran a forty in four point six, the next time I was pushing for four point five. Jim was the same way. He never seemed to care what others ran, just if he was faster or slower than his last.

“Paul, you are doing really good in all this conditioning,” he said one day after practice. “Are you ready to hit some people next week?”

Next week we got pads and started “official” practices. “You bet,” I said. “Are you ready to starting airing out some balls?”

“Definitely,” he replied.

Over the two weeks of conditioning drills, we had become friends. He was really the first new friend I had made since coming back, besides Jeryl and Jordan and a few other girls over the summer.

“Have you ever hit something at full speed before?” He asked, suddenly serious.

I shook my head. “Why?”

“You’re strong and fast, but I’m worried you’re going to break on impact. You don’t have the size the varsity linebackers have. There are some huge running backs in the conference, even on JV. I hope you can stop them over and over again, man.”

I grinned and waved it off. “They won’t know what hit them,” I replied.

Later that day, I thought about it a bit more. Jim was right. If I didn’t play heads up football, I could get my head handed to me. And it might not have to wait until a real game. Next Friday we would scrimmage against the varsity. A few of the other sophomores had hinted that last year’s hits had been some of the biggest of the season as the seniors tried to show the new kids how hard things could be.

Those players on the offense had the playbook down cold and had been working together for years. If I were them, every freshman would be a big target. They wouldn’t be trying to obviously hurt anyone, but they were not going to be gentle. A lot of my old insecurities came back over the course of the week. When Friday afternoon practice rolled around, I can admit I was nervous.

It was a sunny, hot day as we stretched out on the field. A few fans were in the stands to watch, but no one else was around.

“Okay, boys. Settle down,” Coach Miller said as we huddled around him. “Varsity gets the ball first, so the first defensive team will take the field first. They will keep it on the ground until you show them you can stop them. Understand?”

“Yes, Coach!” We yelled.

“Line, everyone of you needs to shoot out of your stance and tie up or put down your blocker. They have you in experience. You need to catch them with speed and power. When they put you on your ass, and they will, I want to see you bounce back up and get back in the huddle, understand?”

“Yes, Coach!”

“Backs and safeties, keep the runners funneled inside. I don’t want any breaks outside, understand?”

“Yes, Coach!”

“Then show me! On three.” We all thrust our hands in as he said, “One, two, three.”

“Knights!” we yelled and took the field.

In the first defensive rotation I was playing outside linebacker. I was fast enough to play cornerback or safety, but had convinced the coaches that my strength and speed was best inside. This was the compromise.

We lined up for the first snap. The varsity gave a slow count, hoping to draw us off-sides with our nerves, but we had practiced this too much this week. We were ready. The QB took the snap and the tight-end across from me tried to shoot out and take me down. I twisted to the side and batted him down in a surprise move and moved up the field as the fullback tucked down and lowered his shoulder my direction. I dropped low, almost touching my fingers to the turf and then jacked up under his arms. He flew to the side as I spotted the red shirt of the QB rolling my direction. His eyes got big as I spread my arms wide to wrap him up. I pulled up suddenly at the last minute and slapped his shoulder pads as the coaches blew the play dead. I knew better than to hit him.

My teammates were buzzing as I jogged back to the huddle. “Way to go, Taylor. You put Thompson on his ass. You should have seen his face to be put down by a freshman!”

I smiled and turned my attention to the defensive play we were supposed to run. I had a feeling that I would see Thompson again, whichever one he was.

“Paul, you played great,” Jeryl said, surprising me as I came out of the locker room door.

I smiled and grabbed her extended hand. “Thanks. I didn’t know you were coming to watch. It’s just a scrimmage,” I said. I noticed Jordan a little way off and waved.

“I had Jordan bring me. We let your Mom know that we would run you home after getting a burger or something.”

“That sounds great.” I heard the door open behind me.

“Hey, Paul. Where are you going?” I heard Jim ask.

“Jim, this is Jeryl,” I said turning to introduce him. “She and her sister are giving me a lift home after we get a burger.”

“Nice to meet you Jeryl. This idiot has not said a word about having a cute girlfriend.” He punched me in the arm.

Jeryl blushed and then ducked under my arm. “Well, maybe I need to give him a little more to talk about.” She stretched up on her toes and gave me a kiss on the lips.

“Ahem,” I heard from behind her. Jordan was scowling and smiling at us at the same time. “Enough of that, sister,” she said as she gave me a quick wink.

I introduced Jordan and Jim as we all walked to the parking lot. Jim somehow invited himself along with us, so I actually had a reason to squeeze into the tiny back seat of Jordan’s car with Jeryl. She stayed possessively close to me. We could almost have gotten a third person in the back seat.

Dinner was at the drive-in diner. Jim excused himself after we finished eating, declining the offer of a ride home since he only lived a couple of blocks away. Jordan made a great production of turning up the radio, adjusting the rearview mirror so she could not see the back seat, and driving very slow on the eight miles to my house. Jeryl and I made the most of it, kissing the entire way.

I was surprised to feel her hand caress my stiffening dick through my jeans at one point and moaned my approval into her mouth. She responded with another caress before grabbing my hand and slipping it under her own loose shirt. I was floored as I stroked her soft breast for the first time and felt her nipple harden to a point. It was her turn to moan into my mouth.

I thought about going further, but sensed the final turn toward my house. We had a half-mile to go. Reluctantly, I lowered my hand to her waist and squeezed her gently. We were both sitting as demurely as we could when Jordan turned into my driveway. I got one last kiss goodnight after we climbed out of the back seat, and then they were gone. Mom watched me walk in from our deck.

“Was it a good day?” she asked knowingly.

“It was great, Mom. Thanks,” I said as I headed to my room.

The car was coming along slowly. I had stripped most of the body away and pulled the engine. I had gotten all the rust ground off, and a coat of primer on but was finally ready to start what I considered the real work. Building it back up.

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