Chapter 10

I was beat when my plane landed in Harrisburg late that evening. I lugged my gear out to my Honda and headed home. I didn’t get to bed until after 1:00 AM. Miraculously, Mom managed to keep Noah and Connor quiet on Saturday morning, so I could get some much-needed sleep. I got up around ten in the morning, showered and headed downstairs for breakfast.

“Daddy, you’re home!” Noah and Connor cheered gleefully.

“Home for six weeks,” I answered. I scooped up each twin in turn and gave them hugs and kisses. I poured myself a bowl of cereal and sat down to eat.

“Can you play catch with us after you eat, Daddy?” Connor asked.

“We’ve missed you,” Noah added.

“I’d love to guys, but I have too much to do today,” I explained.

“Like what?” Noah asked.

“I have to get ready for my school reunion,” I said.

“What is reunion?” Connor asked.

“I get to see all my friends from school,” I said. I saw blank looks on both boys’ faces. “Do you miss your friends from first grade?”

“Yeah, some,” Noah allowed.

“You have been out of school ten days,” I said. “I haven’t seen my high school friends for five years. Today is my school friends’ turn. I can play catch with you guys tomorrow after church.”

“OK, Daddy,” both boys chimed. They headed off to find Hunter and some other thing to occupy their morning.

I finished up my breakfast before heading to New Holland. Allison Hess, the organizer for my class reunion had assigned everyone a dish to bring to our picnic. Thankfully I had been assigned a dessert. I drove over to Yoder’s Country Market in New Holland and purchased one of the pies from their bakery department. They made hellacious pies, much better than the ones at the Weis store in Gap.

I cleaned up and shaved when I got home. Out of habit I grabbed a Rams polo to wear. I briefly had second thoughts. Would my classmates think I was putting on airs, advertising my position on the Rams team? I kept the shirt on. Everyone in my class knew I was a professional football player. What difference would the shirt make?

I headed over to the township park around 12:30, a little early for our event. Allison Hess, Nicole Weaver and Paul Groff were there with their dates. My early arrival surprised my friends.

“Andy!” Allison gasped as I hopped out of my car. “I wasn’t sure if you’d make it. I heard you had practices in LA this week.”

“I did,” I answered. “I caught a flight east after our training camp ended Thursday. Storms made flying hell. I was bounced off something like six flights before I got to Harrisburg. I got home around 1:00 AM this morning. I know I am early. What can I do to help you guys set up?”

“Do you want to help Paul hang up the class banner?” Allison suggested.

Paul and I hung the “Welcome, Paradise High School Class of 2011” banner between two posts on the outside of the pavilion. I helped Paul bring his baseball gear from his car out to the softball field. I was reminded that I hadn’t brought my glove from home, not that it would have done me much good. I hadn’t played baseball since I was eleven or twelve. I doubt it would fit me.

Over the next half hour my classmates and their dates, husbands or wives arrived. Some people arrived stag like me but more arrived as couples. I greeted Jim Griffin warmly when he arrived. Jim served as co-captain of the football team when we were seniors. Jim introduced me to his wife of six months, Kimberly.

I had time to talk with half a dozen of my teammates: Brian Taylor, Corey Brown, Adam Bell, Patrick Jones, Derrick Anderson and Patrick Jones. Derrick and Patrick showed up together.

“Do you know if Mike Johanson is coming to the reunion?” Patrick asked me.

“I don’t know,” I answered. “I haven’t talked with Mike since February.”

“Where did you see him?” Derrick asked.

“San Francisco,” I replied. “We um ... we took in a game together.” I suspect my face turned pink from my embarrassment. I didn’t want to throw my success in my friends’ faces.

“February? San Francisco? You did the Super Bowl?” Pat asked, wide eyed. I shrugged and tried not to look embarrassed.

“The NFL gives all players two tickets to the game,” I explained. “Mike and I were both up for the rookie of the year award. We were required to attend the awards banquet a few days before the game, so we figured, ‘Why not?’ We stayed for the game.”

“Don’t apologize for that, Andy,” Derrick said. “Shit, if my employer offered me Super Bowl tickets, I would sure-as-shit use them.”

“Life is sweet for you, Andy,” Pat added. “Enjoy it. Your high school teammates can enjoy your success vicariously as you and Mike live out our dreams.” Pat held up his hand to display state championship ring. He grinned. “You can have your future success and all of us will be happy for you. We still share this memory and all of us made it possible.”

“You are dead-on right, Pat,” I agreed. “All of us will always share that wonderful night in Hershey.”

I greeted Eric and Sammy Connell when they arrived from Sammy’s parents’ house. We hung out together as we continued to greet our classmates. Shannon Phillips, one of my many former girlfriends from my wild middle and high school days stopped by to talk. Initially I felt uncomfortable since my break-up with Shannon was painful. Thankfully, she had forgiven me years ago. It was pleasant talking with her and meeting her boyfriend.

Allison and Nicole announced it was time to eat, so we lined up for our lunch. I followed Eric and Sammy through the line. I stopped to grab a drink while they went ahead to save us a table. I turned after getting a large cup of iced tea and practically ran into Heather Miller.

“Heather!” I gasped, barely avoiding spilling the plate of food in one hand and the drink in the other over my former girlfriend. “I’d give you a hug or shake hands or ... something ... if...”

“I understand completely, Andy,” Heather replied. “Who are you sitting with? Where?”

I waved my drink in the direction Eric and Sammy headed. “Eric, Sammy and some of our other friends from Venturers.”

“I’ll grab some food and join you guys in a minute,” Heather said.

“I’m looking forward to it,” I said. Heather joined the line for food. I headed over to the table Eric and Sammy picked out. Shannon Phillips and her boyfriend, Aaron Roush joined my friends. I grabbed a seat beside Eric and Sammy at the opposite end of the table from Shannon and Aaron. I announced that Heather had arrived. A couple minutes later she joined us, taking the empty seat opposite me.

“Now that our hands are free, how are you doing, Heather?” I asked as I offered my hand to her. We shook.

“I am doing well, Andy,” Heather said. “I hear you are doing well too. Did you enjoy the camping trip last month with my nephews and brother?”

“My boys and I had a blast,” I replied. The question and my answer drew blank stares from the rest of the people at our table. I explained about my time in Cub Scouts and the camping trip I enjoyed with Jon Miller and his boys.

My high school friends were curious about my time with the Rams. I told them about experiences. We shared our stories from college and our jobs. I enjoyed catching up on everyone’s lives. The food at our picnic was typical of pot-luck picnics everywhere – potato salad, macaroni salad, burgers, hot dogs, garden salad, deviled eggs, pies, cakes and cookies.

Our group picked up enough volleyball teams to get a couple games going simultaneously. I enjoyed the challenge and competition. Volleyball was a sport I was good at. Eventually the group divided up into two, oversized softball teams and an even larger contingent of spectators. I was drafted to be on Scott Weaver’s team, despite my protests.

Eric Connell and I were usually the last two picked for teams when we were in elementary and middle school. We weren’t very athletic and didn’t play or care much for baseball, so we didn’t mind too much.

Scott Weaver was the best baseball player in our grade, by far. He skipped college and spent three years in the National’s minor league system. He was picked up by the local independent league Barnstormers in Lancaster after the Nationals released him.

“You took me way too early, Scott,” I protested.

“You’re a pro athlete,” Scott countered. “We’ll put your skills to good use this afternoon.”

“I’m a wide receiver,” I answered. “I don’t see how my skills translate onto a baseball field.”

Scott just laughed. He sent me out to left field, where my lack of fielding ability wouldn’t cause our team any disasters. The first two innings went OK for me. I saw the ball on a single play. It was a looper just over the head of the third baseman. I was able to sprint in and snag the ball before it plopped to the ground for a single.

“Attaboy, Andy!” Scott shouted from shortstop. “Good hustle!”

Scott sat beside me on the bench in the bottom of the second inning, when we were at bat. “Put some wood on the ball, Andy,” Scott counseled. “Make contact and you can do us some good. These guys aren’t pro fielders,” he explained as he motioned towards our opponents’ team on the field. If you make contact and put the ball in play, you can use your speed to outrace the ball to first base. Better, if you can knock the ball out of the infield, go straight for second base. You’ll shock them and you’ll also beat the throw to second. Your speed is world class. Their fielding is strictly bush league.”

“I’ll do the best I can, Scott,” I agreed.

I missed the first pitch to me, a wide one that I should have left alone. Aaron High, a one-time pitcher from our high school baseball team put another softball into me. It looked to be right down the middle and not too fast. I followed Scott’s advice and swung. I was shocked at the loud crack the bat made as it contacted the ball.

I watched as the ball soared into the atmosphere. It looked like it might go the whole way back to the creek at the north edge of the park. I’d never hit a home run in my life! I stared at the sight briefly.

“Go, Andy! Go!” Scott shouted. “Forget second. Go for home!” I sprinted to first. As I rounded the bases, I noticed all our opponents staring helplessly towards the creek while two outfielders tried to track down the ball I’d blasted. I trotted the rest of the way to home plate. My home run drove in Tyler Fox, who had been on second base when I hit.

I received attaboys and backslaps from my high school friends. “Damn! Andy Martin hitting for power,” Scott commented. “How the hell did that happen?”

“I am a professional athlete,” I replied. “I have been weight training for the past ten years.”

“I guess that will do it,” Scott agreed, laughing.

The new-found enthusiasm for my baseball prowess cooled somewhat when I struck out the next two at bats. I only had one fielding opportunity. It was a ball hit just over the infielders’ heads that plopped down between me and Allen Hurst, who was playing center field. I let Allen get the ball. He had a better arm and could throw more accurately than me.

I hit a bases loaded homer in the eighth inning. It gave our team a brief 12-10 lead. The other team came back in the bottom of the ninth to take the game.

The softball game had been fun. I hadn’t embarrassed myself the way I usually did in middle school. Heck, I hit 0.500, hit a pair of home runs and had 6 RBIs. Almost any baseball player on the planet would kill for those stats.

A bunch of us hung out at the pavilion after the game and talked. I was sitting with Heather, Sammy and Eric, as I had all afternoon. It was great to hear all the stories people had from college and their new careers. Most of us graduated from college a year ago and were settling into our careers.

Heather was the lone exception. She had graduated from Carnegie Mellon University on May 15th, took a week to move her things back east to her parents’ house and then started work on the 23rd of May. She was four weeks into her career as a very junior architect at Street, Nichols & Segal Assoc., architects in Harrisburg. She was swamped with work but loved the people she was working with.

Couple by couple, people said their goodbyes and split for home as time wore on. An hour later, Jon and Genevieve Landis were the last couple beside Eric, Sammy, Heather and me. I enjoyed hearing more about Jon and Genevieve’s story. Jon played wide receiver in high school with me and my brother, Kyle. He didn’t have the size, speed or talent to play beyond high school, despite his love for football. He went to Penn State and got a degree in business administration.

Kyle invited Jon to some of the Penn State football team’s parties, where he met the younger sister of a couple of Kyle’s teammates, Genevieve Cuchiella. Genevieve’s older brother, Dominic, played safety for the Philadelphia Eagles. Her twin brother, Marco, had managed to latch onto the Cleveland Browns this past fall. He played strictly special teams, but still, it was impressive for someone who didn’t crack the Penn State starting lineup until he was senior. Jon and Genevieve had fallen in love. They were married right after graduation last spring. Eric, Sammy and I wished them the best when they headed back to Jon’s parents’ house for the night.

Sammy, Eric, Heather and I reminisced about our trip to Algonquin ten years ago, marveling at how fast time had passed. The trip was a landmark for Eric and Sammy. They truly became a couple in the space of the ten days in Canada. I always wished the same had happened for Heather and me. We had been boyfriend and girlfriend on that trip. We talked about the beautiful sights we saw in that remote wilderness. We remember the fun we had with the other members of our crew. Most of all we reminisced about the X-rated nights we shared.

“Jesus!” Eric commented. “Look at it,” as he gestured into the gloom of dusk. “I had no idea it was this late.”

“We better get going,” Sammy said. “My parents are expecting some face time with us before we fly back to Florida tomorrow morning. We’ll see you two later.” Heather and I gave Sammy a hug and kiss goodbye. Heather did the same for Eric. He had to settle for a fist bump from me. The two of us waved goodbye as Eric pulled out of the parking lot and headed east for the Hoover household.

“Well...” I began.

“Yeah, I guess it’s time,” Heather agreed. I gave my ex-girlfriend a peck on the cheek reluctantly.

Heather’s face went stern. “THAT will not do.” She couldn’t keep the act up. Her face turned to a mega-watt smile, which I loved. “I need a proper kiss and hug goodbye.”

We embraced, clinging to each other tightly. I stared into Heather’s face for a moment before cocking my head and pressing our lips together. Automatically our lips drifted open as we enjoyed the kiss. Our tongues met. The surprisingly fervent kiss only fed our hunger for more.

We panted and moaned as we made out like teens, newly introduced to deep kissing. Time had no meaning as we explored these pleasures. Did I get turned on? Of course, I did. I was literally making out with the girl who had starred in all my erotic dreams for the past decade. My erection sprang up and pressed against Heather’s belly.

She must not have minded the lump. She was rubbing herself against it as we made out. I grasped a cloth covered breast and felt her up as we swapped tongues. She pressed her titty against my exploring hand. Time had no meaning.

I have no idea how long we Frenched. We noticed the night was totally black when the parking lot light clicked off and left us in blackness.

“Your place?” Heather gasped between kisses.

“Parents ... kids...” I gasped in a clipped answer. “Hotel?”

“Mine...” Heather gasped as I sucked on her tongue.

“Parents?”

“Apartment...” Heather gasped before nibbling on my upper lip. “ ... over... [smooch] gar... [smooch] ... garage.” I knew Jon and Amy Miller had lived over Jon’s parents’ garage when they first got married years ago.

“Two cars?” I mumbled between slurps.

“One...” Heather moaned. “Get ... later...” She pulled me towards my car. I helped her in before going around and climbing in myself. Heather was on me instantly. She rubbed my belly, kissed my neck and cheek and nibbled at my ear while I tried to concentrate on driving. It is a near miracle that I didn’t wreck the car or stop halfway to the Millers and rape their daughter along the side of Route 30. Well, it wouldn’t have been rape. If anything, Heather was more desperate for me than I was for her.

Heather hurried me up the outside steps to the apartment over the garage when we arrived at her house. We left a trail of clothing from the front door into the bedroom. I was conscious enough to recognize that the apartment must be Heather’s now. It was freshly decorated and looked appropriate for a young career woman.

I also noticed the clock as Heather and I collapsed on her bed, her in a sport bra and panties, me in my boxers. It was almost 10:30 PM. We must have been making out at the park for at least an hour and a half. My lust, need, desire, thirst, craving or whatever term you used was insatiable. Heather’s kisses and caresses told me she needed me as much as I desired her.

She stopped me mid-grope to pull off her sport bra. Panties followed. She insisted I drop the boxers too. I laid down again with Heather. She was a pretty eighth and ninth grader. She had matured into a drop-dead gorgeous woman. Her breasts were perfectly sized to my hands. She loved it when I tested them for size too.

After a couple minutes of showing my appreciation for her breasts, I slipped down lower to explore her womanhood. She pulled me up again.

“I need that big tool of yours now, Andy,” Heather demanded. “Give it to me like you used to.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “We’ve done this before after we broke up. You usually regret this in the morning.”

“FUCK ... ME ... NOW!” Heather demanded. “I promise, no regrets in the morning.”

I nudged the tip of my cock against Heather’s well-lubricated opening and penetrated. My last remaining shreds of conscious brain managed to implant one word in my head – pregnancy.

“Shit!” I growled with about one inch of my cock embedded in Heather’s pussy. “I didn’t bring condoms to a ball game. We have to stop!” I tried to pull out but Heather’s arms around me kept my cock in her body.

“I have an IUD,” she explained. “I can’t get knocked up.”

“STDs?”

“When is the last time you had unprotected sex?” Heather asked. I thought back through the years. None since college. No one while I was in college. I realized the last time I had unprotected sex had been with Heather. It had been when we both fell in lust and fucked each other’s brains out one Saturday night when we were juniors in high school.

“You,” I said. “Like ... six years ago on that Venturer weekend.”

“You’re clean,” Heather said. “I got tested after I dumped Byron, that cheating bastard of a boyfriend, last fall. I’m clean.”

“You’re sure?” I asked. “No regrets in the morning?”

“We’ll deal with the morning in the morning,” Heather answered. Lust crazed as I was, that was good enough for me. I slammed my big tool the rest of the way into Heather’s well lubricated canal.

“Mmmmm...” Heather purred. “I always loved your size.” I went to work coupling with the girl of my dreams. Was it good? It was spectacular. I’d love to say we made love for an hour ... or half an hour ... even ten minutes. I was too excited and libidinous to last more than a few minutes.

Those minutes were spectacular. Heather had always been a responsive lover. She humped back in time to my thrusts. She caressed me and encouraged me to keep going. She verbalized her desires and helped me give her what she needed. I came like a freight train when I finally came, pumping what seemed like a gallon of semen and sperm into my lover.

I rolled off and collapsed on the bed beside Heather. I had one nagging concern I couldn’t shake. Was she sleeping with me because she wanted and needed me? What if Heather turned out to be like some of the football groupies that hounded us players? Get knocked up and trap us for our money?

No, that was silly. Heather knew the real me, the computer nerd who became her boyfriend in seventh grade. This was NOT part of some far-seeing plan by a twelve year-old girl to trap this kid. She couldn’t know I would take up football, earn a college scholarship and become a first round draft pick in the NFL and a millionaire. No, this girl cared about me more than any other girl I would meet in the rest of my life. She knew and cared about the real Andy before I was a star.

I shook off the introspection and realized I was being ungallant. “Did you come?” I asked.

“It was wonderful.”

“Did you come?” I asked again.

“We don’t need to keep score, Andy,” Heather said.

I rolled between her legs and dove in, commenting before the first lick, “I’m not keeping score.” I saw my semen leaking out of Heather and hesitated momentarily. I remembered I licked my come out of girls all the time in middle school and high school. “I want you to have fun too,” I added before swiping my tongue up her slit.

I must have done a good job stimulating Heather to near orgasm while we coupled. It took me about three swipes of my tongue up her slot and a clitoris nibble to bring her to climax. I ducked out from between her legs as Heather enjoyed a crashing, thrashing thunderous orgasm.

I cuddled beside Heather as she recovered from her climax. I thought again to the condom-less sex we just had. What if Heather was feeding me a line about the birth control, the way I always suspected Noah and Connor’s mom, Crystal, had done? What if I did knock up Heather and was forced to marry her? Is that a bad thing? No, it wasn’t.

“God, Andy,” Heather commented, interrupting my train of thought. “The things you do to me. I haven’t enjoyed sex so much since ... since...” She laughed. “Since the last time you did me six years ago. Why do you drive me so crazy?”

“No crazier than you drive me,” I replied. “Best I can guess it is because we fit together so well. We’re made for each other.”

“Yes, I fear you are right,” Heather said. “You up for a second round, lover? I’m not done with you by a damned, long sight.”

“Let me play with your titties a bit while I recharge,” I suggested. “I’ll be ready again if you want more.”

“I want,” Heather confirmed.

Our second time lasted longer than the frenetic first time. I managed to bring Heather to a vaginally induced orgasm. Her climax drove me over the top. We collapsed beside each other in an exhausted, mutually induced stupor.

“Do you want to spend the night, Andy?” Heather asked when we regained out wits.

“That won’t be a problem with your parents?” I asked.

“I turned twenty-three two weeks ago,” Heather replied. “They don’t get a vote in who spends the night with me.”

“Let me call my parents and let them know I won’t be home until tomorrow morning,” I said. I hopped out of bed and made the call to Dad. I evaded the question of where I was spending the night when he asked. It wasn’t really his business.

Heather and I cuddled together and made out after I finished my call. One thing led to another. Our third coupling for the night was slow and loving. We both came again. Heather and I fell into an exhausted sleep – at least for a few hours. Heather’s stirring woke me up early in the morning. That led to another session of hide the wiener – fast but satisfying.

I woke to the feel of someone stirring beside me. I rolled over to face Heather. I braced myself for the inevitable ending for one of our lust filled nights – the morning recriminations.

“Good morning,” I said, giving her my best smile. Heather leaned in and gave me a kiss on the lips.

“Good morning, lover,” she said.

“No regrets?”

“None at all,” Heather responded. “That was the best night I’ve had in a long, long time.” She laughed. “In six years. I told you I wouldn’t have regrets.”

“This hasn’t worked out this smoothly before,” I cautioned. I noticed the clock on the bed stand. “We missed church.”

“More time for us,” Heather said. “How about we get cleaned up, have some breakfast and then you can take me back to the park for my car?”

“That sounds like a plan,” I agreed. “Why don’t you go first in the bathroom?”

“If you insist,” Heather said. She leaned over and gave me a kiss before climbing out of bed. I had a few minutes to contemplate what last night meant.

What did last night mean, if anything? There was no question whether I was attracted to Heather. I had been since we were in middle school. The past ten years hadn’t changed that at all. After last night I had no question whether the attraction was mutual. I knew it was.

Could the two of us overcome the problems that split us up the first two times we went steady? We dated and then broke up when we were seventh graders. We were clueless about boy-girl relationships then. I doubt either of us could learn anything from that time. The second time Heather went steady with me, I was the direct cause for the breakup. I admit I was a pussy hound when I was younger. I had an opportunity to get laid on the family vacation and I took it. Word got back to Heather and she dumped my ass, with good cause.

I learned the hard way to keep my dick in my pants. I felt I had matured since Heather and I broke up nine years ago. Could we build a mature relationship? One issue I normally had with woman who interested me wasn’t an issue with Heather. She had held Noah and Connor before they were a day old. But was she willing to become an instant mother to seven-year-olds?

Consciously or unconsciously, I compared the girls I dated to Heather. Why should I try to find someone like Heather if there was any chance I could convince Heather to go with me? I had pretty much made up my mind to try to rebuild a relationship with her when I heard a call from the bathroom, “Andy, I need a hand with my back.”

I flew out of bed to do my good turn for the day. I helped Heather wash her back. She gave me a thorough cleaning while I was in the shower with her. Did I make love to her in the shower? What do you think? Two naked people with a deep mutual attraction are naked and rubbing their hands all over each other. It was wonderful, equally as good as any session of love-making last night. We abandoned the shower when the hot water ran out.

We dried off in Heather’s bedroom. The bathroom was much too small for two adults to use. I commented, “Last night and this morning was eye-opening. I’d like to see you more often than once every five years for our high school reunions. Would you be willing to date me again?”

“Date you?” Heather stated as she stared at me. “Last night,” she said before giggling, “and this morning were spectacular. But I don’t know about getting serious again. Remember we’ve done this before and it ended badly both times.”

“The first time shouldn’t count,” I responded. “We were clueless seventh-graders who knew next to nothing about boy-girl relationships. The bad end to our second time together is entirely on me. I was an irresponsible pussy-hound then. I’m not like that anymore.”

“I know you’ve learned to be responsible,” Heather said. “I’ve saw enough of you after the twins were born to understand that. You still let your enthusiasms carry you away.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You don’t listen well,” Heather said. I gave her a confused look. “Last night after our first time is a good example. I told you I was satisfied even though I didn’t come. You insisted on going down on me even though I said I didn’t need that. Did you stop to consider that I might be over-stimulated and needed a break? No, you dove in anyway. The orgasm was nice, but you didn’t listen to me.”

“Point taken,” I agreed. “I did not listen to you. I can do better, if you allow me to show you.”

“I don’t know about long term,” Heather said.

“Let’s not worry about long term,” I countered. “I am free from football until July 29th, when I report for training camp. Why don’t we try a few dates and see if we can build an adult relationship between the two of us?”

“You’re looking for someone to marry so you can settle down,” Heather said. “I don’t know that I’m ready for that.”

“Of course, that is my long-term goal,” I agreed. “Don’t you want that long term too?”

“Long term, not right away,” Heather answered.

“OK, we agree on that – we don’t think long term,” I said. “Heather, would you like to go out on a date with me next Saturday night?”

“One date?” Heather asked.

“One date, next Saturday night,” I said. “Dinner and dancing?”

“OK, one date, next Saturday night,” Heather agreed. “Why don’t you get dressed, Andy. I’ll go whip us up some breakfast. We can pick up my car when we’re done eating.”

“That sounds like a plan,” I agreed.

Heather prepared a delicious western omelet for each of us. “That was excellent,” I announced as I finished the meal. “You haven’t lost any of your culinary skills from Venturers.”