Chapter 32: Friday Morning

"In My Life"

Luis

Slowly, the world began to take shape as the sleep faded and I realized I was looking at myself!

God! What a horrid sight to wake up to.

As more cobwebs were swept away, I realized that it was a painting of me. The warm, soft, delightful feeling against my chest, though, was female and very real. Hopefully Becca.

It sure felt like her tit in my hand, my finger slowly circling the nipple.

"That feels nice," came a soft voice as her ass squirmed back into me.

"Morning, sweet Becca."

"And to you, My Mountain."

We shared a brief, morning-breath kiss. "I kinda thought you might be..."

"Freaking out this morning?" she finished for me.

"Yeah."

"Actually ... I did. I woke up earlier and started to freak out. Then realized that I should thank you instead."

"Thank me?"

"How many women can say their man makes them pass out from pleasure on a regular basis?"

"Not a lot," I chuckled.

"So, thank you."

"You're quite welcome. Believe me, it is a rush for me to think I can do that ... or you are that responsive ... or..."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

We snuggled for a brief eon or ten. I was delighted that she was being calm about last night. Really delighted. Maybe I'm being selfish, but I really didn't need to start the day dealing with an emotional woman. This snuggling was a much better way to start the day.

"Are you running this morning?" I heard from deep within my chest, her Cave.

"Yep. Guess I better get ready before the speedster gets going. I'll never catch him."

"Is my brother that good?"

"He's developing real well. By his senior year, he should be All-State. At least. And maybe not just as a running back."

"What!?!"

"Oh, a little surprise we cooked up for our friends at East. Watch during the first quarter. Every time Jason lines up in the slot-"

"You mean that back that's at the end of the offensive line, but a step or two back?"

"Yep. That one. Well, every time he lines up there, we're going to run the ball. Many of the times, he'll get it or be in a option play."

"Okay. Isn't that telegraphing?"

"Yep. Thing is, as soon as their defensive backs move up when he lines up that way, somewhere in the second quarter, we think, he's going to give a block, then drift into the secondary towards the middle. Behind the coverage. They should bite on a play action pass to one of the wide receivers. The next time we see him, he'll be in the end zone celebrating."

"That's-"

"Wicked." We both chuckled.

"Will they fall for it?"

"We think so. We're going to be telegraphing a lot of things during the first quarter. Then springing some surprises in the second. Then more in the third. And, if we need to, a lot more in the fourth. Although, we'd love to be able to save those until the play-offs."

"You've been busy."

"Not just me. This is a team effort and we've got exceptionally good coaches."

"Not to mention a certain physicist-nerd hulk who owns almost all the school records for tackles and sacks."

"What records?"

"Don't you keep track?"

"Not really."

"You broke almost all the records last game. Let me see ... Oh, yeah. Career sacks at 97. That's about three per game for your high school career. Tackles? I might need to get up and get my calculator. Over 600, I lost count somewhere. Tackles for loss? Closing in on 200, I think it's 180-something. Oh ... Yeah! And, those are school, division, and State records."

"You are a football-geek, aren't you?"

"Nope. I'm a Mountain-geek. Out of the closet now."

"And fully into my heart."

How can they do that? One minute, facing away from you. Then in a move that defies the notions of friction, inertia, and momentum, they're facing you and attacking with tongue, hands, and naughty bits!

Not that I'm complaining, but if I could figure it out, a perpetual motion machine could be built!

Rebbecca

He melted me. Absolutely melted me. Again! Damn him.

As I was getting lost in a perfect kiss, well ... almost perfect. Neither of us had that minty-fresh thing going on. Anyway, there was a tap at the door, then it opened.

"Oh, thank god! You're semi-decent. Ready to run?" Jason said while pretending to avert his eyes.

I tried to find a pillow to throw at him, but realized that My Mountain was more than I could lift and heave. "Jase!"

"Hey, I listened first. You know, sister mine, it's obvious when you're..."

"Pervert!"

"Yep! And proud of it. Luis, if you have any energy left over after last night, are you ready to run and do trivial things like crush East today?"

"You know ... I think I'll just stay right here. This is much more fun than crashing my body into guys with padding on."

"This is the example one of our captains is setting for the team?"

"No. This is payback for you barging in."

"You'd let the team suffer?"

"Nope. But you are going to hate practice next week. I'm looking for a new tackling dummy."

"Shit!"

"I'd advise you take care of that before going onto the field." I had to laugh.

"Okay, GUYS! If you haven't noticed, you're in estrogenland at the moment. Take the macho shit outside. Please. I want to sleep a bit more."

"Jeez!" I got from my brother.

"Yes, your Royalness!" from my Mountain.

"Well, Sir Jason, please depart my bed chamber, post haste. And, Lord Mountain, you may remain for a moment."

Can this week get any more surreal?

Wait! Wait! I didn't say that. Nope. Nope. Nope. Never, ever, ever tempt the Fates. They have a lousy sense of humor.

Another cuddle, hug, kiss, and the bed got suddenly cold and massively empty. I burrowed into the pillows and tried to pull the covers over the Universe.

Only, the bloody thing wouldn't go away. Instead of drifting back into the land of oblivion and sweet dreams, I thought about awakening earlier. I'm glad my panic attack didn't wake Luis.

God, I had been so upset. I fell asleep ... again! Before I could even work up a good cry and take the pity party to new levels, it dawned on me that My Mountain's arms were lovingly wrapped around me. I was in My Cave, but also in my bed. I marveled at how absolutely wonderful that felt.

That's when it hit me that my worries ... concerns ... issues about falling asleep were baseless. I mean, how many girls receive so much pleasure that they pass out? Then find their lover curled around them in a loving embrace? I would hazard a guess and say, 'Not many.'

Now, if it continued to happen, then I'd begin to worry. Every now and then, it would be okay. Hey, My Mountain gives me monstrous orgasms. I'm just glad I got him off first. But, when it comes time for the big event ... I had to chuckle to myself on that one. When that time comes, I intend to get worked up, but not drop off the cliff. No passing out before he gets Junior all the way in me. Then, the gods be damned, I'm going to let go completely. I hope.

Okay, I'm awake. Fully, completely, and absolutely. Time to get. Groan.

My first sight when I emerged from my cocoon was the painting of Luis. I wonder what he thought. I hope he realized that he was the last person I saw when I went to bed and the first person I saw when I woke up. Or, did he, being typically male, not even see it?

Ah, no sense in debating. Time to get up, get cleaned up and ready for school, then fix My Mountain a good breakfast.

Walking downstairs later, it hit me that today is the last day I have to be naked. The last day I have to put up with requests and unwanted fondling. Everything after this day is my choice or a crime. Literally.

"Good morning, Becky," my mom said.

"What can I do to help?"

"Crack a couple of dozen eggs and whip them up for omelets. How was last night?"

Damn, there's that sunburn thing again. "N-Nice."

"Well, I hope you didn't wear him out."

"Mmmmooommmm!" Sunburn, hell. Insert face in blast furnace.

"Well, the night before a game..."

"We ... Well, we didn't go that far. I passed out again."

"Lucky girl," I thought I heard her say. "Get to work, young lady. Two hungry men need to be fed shortly."

I enjoyed working with mom preparing breakfast. I hoped we had guessed right about the quantities that Luis would be eating. When the front door opened and Jase and Luis came in, I started to run into the hallway and greet My Mountain.

"Let him come down from the run and get a shower, Becky."

"But-"

"Trust me. He's putting on his game face, just like Jason does. Today, let him come to you. Be there, but let him come to you. Tonight, after the game, you can smother him all you want."

I let that rattle around in my brain for a while. My heart knew it was right. This is what My Mountain did with a significant part of his life, play football. It would be that way for years, hopefully. I'd be there to share the joy of his wins or the depression of his losses.

"It's hard to adjust, mom."

"I understand. You've been a one-woman-universe for many years. Self-contained. Now you've stepped into a world where everything is connected to everything in complex ways."

"I think I'll like it better, even if I have days like today."

"I think you'll do just fine. Plus, I've got my daughter back!" She wrapped me in a hug and we both shed a few tears while the showers upstairs ran.

"I like what I'm seeing."

"Morning Daddy."

He made it a three way hug. A few seconds or years later Jason joined, then I felt the energy of My Mountain and all was right with the World. I got what my mother was saying. I felt the love and the interconnectedness of my family and my boyfriend. Yes! Boyfriend.

Food done and placed on the table, we began consuming.

"So, boys, how did the run go?" Daddy asked.

I phased out, with my hand on My Mountain's thigh. I half listened to the stories Jase and he told about their run, their thoughts on the game, this week, and life in general. I did attempt to make the right noises at the right time, a talent I fear I will need to work on.

All the while, I thought about the symphony metaphor. Not just how it applied to art, but life. My father started the work with "how did...", much as a conductor does when they raise their batons. His was a short introduction, only a few notes to define the key and hint at the themes.

Jason introduced the first theme of the piece. One of excitement, new responsibilities, high energy, and optimism. It was a very fast theme in a minor key, which, as I've learned, is how to express pluses.

My Mountain's theme was next. It was one of cautious optimism. Same key, of course, but the tempo was more controlled. At the same time, there was a restrained energy just waiting to burst forth when directed to do so.

Mom added her theme to the exposition phase. The tempo dropped and added an undercurrent of concern and caution. Just as a mother should do. Yet, still, there was energy and optimism in her theme.

My father played a part as the orchestra when he performed the transition phrase and shifted keys, asking about how the week had gone for all. The key shifted to a related major key. The tempo slowed, the energy shifted. The themes were repeated, but in a more lyrical way with still a flavor of optimism, but uncertainty as to how the future would play out based on what had happened this week.

Then he blew my whole metaphor by asking me to introduce a new theme. I wanted to scream that this is just not done in the sonata-allegro form!

"Changes, lots of changes. I'd say most for the good," and I winked at Luis while squeezing his knee, the chorus responded with laughter. Then I realized this was what they were talking about in the definitions of the form. This was the codetta, the transition out of the exposition into the development phase of the work.

My father had conducted this symphony perfectly. I could only marvel as we ended it with the coda, then we headed to school. No doubt, to play the rest of this opus throughout the day.

Luis

Becca was ... Well, different, as we walked to the car. It was a good different, just different. This is going to take me a while to figure out. It is like something happened this morning and she's grown so much.

I mean, I like it.

I think.

Yeah. I do.

It's just...

Different.

When we got to my car, before I opened her door for her, I pulled her into a hug. "Thank you, my dear Becca."

"For..."

"Being in my life."

She melted into me.

Damn. I think I did something right!

"I've been thinking..." she started. I waited. Decided I needed to take a couple more deep breaths.

Finally, "Everyone has been telling me how to give you ... space ... today ... and..."

"Sweetie," I pulled her in closer. "I meant what I said. I'm in joy that you are in my life. Please don't pull away today because people are telling you that I need to, well, whatever it is I need to do."

"I don't want to distract you. Get you hurt."

"You'll get me hurt if you pull away. Yes, I'd love less drama today than any day this week, but none of that was me being close to you. I can love you and get my game face on." I thought about what I had just said and realized how true that was. "Even better, I can put on a better game face with you in my life. You make me whole."

My chest got very wet.

I'm pretty sure I helped moisturize her scalp as well.

Two heartbeats later, my lips were being ravaged. There was a very delectable butt in my hands. Two rock hard missiles were pressed into my chest. And, Junior noticed.

Duh!

It mattered not to me what he thought the agenda was.

My heart was overflowing. I felt my roots extended from my feet to the center of the Earth. My head, my crown point, was in outer space. I was me. I was Becca. I was. And, I wasn't. We were everything, and nothing.

"Ahem..." Jason's voice penetrated. "I need you to move your car so I can go to school. I know you don't have anything important this morning, Luis. Some of us do."

One heartbeat. Two.

Laughter.

We all fell into a mass, laughing.

Becca's dad added to it when he honked to us as he pulled away.

We untangled and sorted out cars, seating, and I finally folded myself into reliable-yet-not-flashy.

"Please, My Mountain, show me how to make music come out of this thing!"

Patiently, I walked her through turning on the music system, walking through the menus, even showing her my playlists, and inviting her to make up some of her own.

She surprised me by picking one of my classical playlists that started with Beethoven's symphony number 3 (in E flat) and was mixed with more Beethoven, Schubert, and the Beatles.

Yeah, I have strange tastes. Sue me. My lawyer's office is just around the corner, by the railroad tracks.

Her hand on my thigh, squeezing occasionally, and kisses at stop lights, we made it to school. She delivered me to the gym then headed to the Art rooms.

I was marveling at the new Becca and how much I really did love her as I walked into the locker room.

"Ah, good, you're here. Let's check out that hand."

"Good morning, Coach Mac." The team doctor standing next to him chuckled.

They poked, prodded, and whispered as they examined my hand. I was finally pronounced fit, just stay off the heavy weights involving my hands today and wear my gloves during the game, which I would do anyway.

Friday was my normal lower body workout anyway, so everything worked well. I pushed less than my normal, and just shy of torture reps. Keep the blood flowing, keep the proteins building muscle. Repair. Connect, Strengthen. Flexibility. There was no need to grow anything today. I'd need all that energy tonight.

I walked into the wet room and was handed a big baggy for my hand. Yes, the mega-gallon size. Jeez, what a way to protect the stitches. Before I sank into the whirlpool, I hit the play button on the resident boom box.

I had to laugh when the first song up was "Nowhere Man" by the Beatles. How that fit the theme this morning and with Becca's music selections.

The water was doing its magic for my body, the music for my soul. I was settling into a nice, deep zone of peace when a tidal wave swept over me.

"Damn, Hollow Dick! Did you have to use a cannonball to get into the other tub!"

"Just checking, Rubber Dicky. How's the hand?"

"Not perfect, but more than up to the task tonight."

"How's your head?"

"Wet. How's yours?"

"Fuck you."

"And the horse you rode in on, asshole."

"What are we gonna do to East?"

"There should be a law against it."

"There probably is, if it weren't for it being a game."

"Game? This is not a game. This is about honor. School pride. Getting some more of these folks scholarship shots. Did I say pride?"

"Yep. You forgot one little, itty-bitty detail."

"What's that?"

"Doh!" He slapped himself in the forehead like that cartoon character. "The State Championship."

"You mean ... You ... I mean ... Us?" I feigned ignorance, putting on my best innocent look. Yeah, about the same look that gets a man thrown out of a ... Well, let's just leave it at that, shall we. I wouldn't know anything about titty clubs and such.

"Yeah. There's some stupid rumor that the winner of this game might be on a straight path to that destination."

"Sounds like a large mountain to climb."

"And we will."

"Yes we will."

"Damn right we will!" Phil shouted as he came into the wet room.

"Fuck Yeah!" came a chorus of voices through the door into the main locker room.

"Me thinks perhaps this assemblage is most prepared to join in battle with our crosstown rivals," Jamal said with his most proper English accent.

As the laughter died, we focused. One last session in the tubs to walk through the game plan. We went through every aspect of the game we could work out ahead of time, know full well that we were going to see surprises, just as we were going to our damnedest to surprise them. From how to handle the coin toss to how to get safely off the field if we should blow them out.

The discussion was focused. As we went on, the key players, then the starters, all joined, filling the room.

We were ready.

Now, to hold this mood through the day and through the game.

Rebbecca

I was scribbling notes on my observations this morning about the Sonata-Symphonic form and its metaphors in real life, just sitting in art room, my Naked Towel firmly protecting my butt from the hard, cold stool at my reserved work area. And protecting the stool from, well, my fertile imagination and my body's reactions to some more prurient thoughts.

My devious mind drifted from classical music to more primitive forms of music. Primitive rhythms that beat through the body. Some of those rhythms that I wanted to experience in a very real way. The man I wanted to share them with filling my internal vision.

I started when a soft pair of arms snaked around me and the feeling of a very nice set of boobs with very erect nipples pressed into my back. "Morning, Becca. Sleep well and not enough, I hope?"

"Slept well and long, I think fortunately."

"Fortunately?"

"Well, he did it to me again. He took me so high, so often, that my brain turned to mush and didn't solidify until this morning."

"With or without Junior?"

"Without. But, soon, very soon, with."

"Good for you. I slept with Mike last night."

"You didn't wear him out, did you?"

"Like you, he turned me to mush, early. We're both very well rested today. I want to say damnit, but I do understand. I just hope he doesn't use all of himself up on the field tonight!"

"Me too. But, I'm planning on being around all weekend. I'm sure the topic will come up at some point."

"You go, girl!" The hug got tighter and the kiss was sweet, loving, but reserved. "I talked to Mike about us."

I waited for her to go on, when she didn't,"Aaannnddd???"

"He's as cool as Luis is about it. He's even cool if I want to mess around with Luis. Are you still cool with it?"

"Yep. Are you expecting me to do something with Mike? Is he?"

"Nope. He said there was, 'No way in hell I'd turn her down! Damn, I'm not blind!' And I support him. Up to you and Luis."

"I don't know..."

"Sweet Becca, lots of time." I got another kiss. This one had my toes wanting to curl up, just a bit. Well, maybe a lot. I know I'm going to be getting a new towel before too much longer.

A hearty, mirthful laugh interrupted us. "So, so much passion! Perhaps I should put some mattresses around the room!" Francesca managed to get out between fits. Her smile was bright, her eyes twinkling mischief.

"Lights, action, camera! I love it! My fans!" Rosalee preened and bowed to the imaginary cameras.

"What we must do to further our art," I stated in my best screen-diva impersonation, posing as artfully as I could. Well, at least I thought it was.

Not that anyone was noticing, the three of us collapsed into howls shortly after.

"Cavolo!" Came out of Francesca's mouth.

"Cabbage?" I was slowly learning Italian. Don't know why!

"Madonna! Ah, the things they teach. You're right, but when used in that way, it's roughly like ... Uhm ... Yes, Holy Crap or something like that."

"Crapping cabbages?" Rosa asked.

That was it. Time to slap knees and bend a lot while trying to catch the next breath. Tears of joy beginning to flow.

This day, this last mandatory naked day, was starting off well!

Just as the three of us were hugging, tears of laughter still leaking the joy of the moment, Margie came in. She went from the speed of light to gaping, opened-mouth wonder in an instant.