Chapter 17: Why Sean Is Happy

There was a light but insistent tapping at the door. The noise finally insinuated itself into my consciousness, and I struggled to wake up enough to not do myself bodily harm when I stood. Kayla was lying next to me, one arm thrown across my chest. I gently picked up her arm by her wrist and slipped out of bed. I carefully put her arm down on the mattress and made sure she was covered. I found my running shorts and pulled them on, and then I stumbled over to the door and looked through the security scope.

Luke was standing outside the door, shifting from foot to foot as he continued to tap at the door.

"Arright, arright," I mumbled as I removed the chain and opened the door for him. He slipped inside quickly, and I closed the door again and relocked it.

Luke glanced over at my bed. Kayla was awake, but was huddled under the blanket quietly.

"Dude, I can't sleep on the floor again," said Luke. "I need my bed back tonight."

"Oh, man, you gotta do this for me," I began. I stopped, though. Even to my ears it sounded like whining. Get a grip, Porter, I chastised myself. "Yeah, okay. I'm sorry, man. We'll work something out."

"I hardly slept a wink all night," Luke grumbled. "Fuckin' Brad snores." He glanced at Kayla apologetically. "Oops. Sorry," he said to her.

Kayla just smiled at him sweetly. It was enough to make Luke blush just a little.

"I'm just gonna ... uh ... grab something out of my suitcase..." Luke shuffled over to his suitcase, where it looked like there had been a small explosion of clothing, books, and shoes. He reached in and I saw him grab a pair of white briefs. He crumpled them up and tried to stuff them in the pocket of his jeans without Kayla seeing them, and then he kind of slide-shuffled back across the room to the door. "I'm going down to get something to eat," he said. "Spencer and Brad are already down there. You should probably come down, show your face around, Sean."

I glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand between the beds. "Yeah, okay, give me about five minutes," I said.

Luke nodded, unlocked the door, and opened it just enough to squeeze out.

"I'd better get in the shower," I said, almost to myself. I glanced at Kayla, and saw she had a teasing, pouting expression. She threw back the covers so I could see the full effect. She had put her babydoll top back on, but hadn't bothered with the panties. Her legs were together, knees slightly bent and to the side, the pale hair between her legs plainly visible. Her rosy nipples were not disguised at all by the filmy material of her nightie, merely veiled and desirable. She managed to look demure and incredibly sexual at the same time. How did she do that?

That circuit breaker in my head clicked back on. Shower. Go downstairs. Breakfast with the team. Don't give the coaches any reason to be suspicious.

I somehow found my way into the bathroom. Focus, Porter. I turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. I shucked off my running shorts and stepped into the tub enclosure. I put my face up into the spray from the showerhead and reached for the shower curtain to pull it closed.

Instead of plastic, my hand found flesh. I looked over, water streaming down my face and obscuring my vision, but I could see well enough to recognize my Luscious, now deliciously naked, stepping into the tub with me.

"Want me to wash your back?" she asked. I could hear the pleasure in her voice. She knew she surprised me, and she was pleased with herself for being able to do so.

"You can wash my back if I can wash your front," I said, doing my best to leer at her through the water in my eyes.

"Deal," she replied. She reached around me for the soap. Her breasts sliding along my wet skin got the blood flowing, away from my brain and to my cock. I tried turning to face her, intending on taking her in my arms, but she shook her head. "Uh-uh," she said as she turned me back around. She began to rub the bar of soap across my shoulders, and she used her other hand to spread the suds around and down my back.

It would have been very soothing if I hadn't had such a hardon. Feeling my cock bouncing up with my heartbeat wasn't exactly relaxing, especially when I felt Kayla rubbing the soap across my asscheeks and down my thighs.

I could only put up with that kind of treatment so long before I had to turn around and reciprocate.

"Oh, is it time to rinse already?" she asked with a smile.

I couldn't even reply. I took her head in my hands and kissed her, and she moved in closer to me. I dropped one hand down to take possession of her breast, and I felt her cheeks tighten as she smiled through our kiss. She put her hand on mine and gently pulled it away from her soft boob.

I stopped kissing her and looked at her questioningly. She placed the bar of soap in my hand.

"There," she said. "Now you're prepared."

She guided my hand back to her breast and lifted her mouth for another kiss as she pressed my hand, still holding the soap, against her flesh.

The soap made everything a lot more slippery, and it wasn't long before we were both exploring each other freely.

Finally, she gasped. I was holding her ass with one hand, my other hand behind her neck, and she was pulling on my cock.

"Why don't you find a good place to put this thing while you finish washing my front?" she suggested.

She lifted up on her toes, and I crouched down a little so that we could connect. I felt the tip of my cock nestle between her moist pussy lips, and as I pushed up she lifted first one leg, and then the other. She settled on me and put her hands around my neck. I walked us back against the wall so I could get some leverage.

All pretense of washing was thrown aside, and we concentrated on inducing pleasure to each other in this new setting for us. I thrust up hard into her, and I felt my cock slide along her hot and welcoming walls, until I was firmly seated deep inside her. Kayla reciprocated by flexing her legs in concert with my efforts, as anxious as I was to feel me encased. The water from the shower was hitting the small of my back and cascading down, its flow interrupted by Kayla's legs entwined around me. The floor of the tub was a little slippery, keeping me from gaining a good grip with my feet, but I still managed to pound into her with some force. The delicious friction we achieved moved us inexorably down the road we both wished to travel.

Before long I felt the familiar tightening in my balls, and I hunched up against Kayla even harder, trying to get as deep into her as I could. I felt my cock trying to expand against the squeezing walls of her pussy, and my semen spilled out to coat her insides in spasmodic release.

"Oh, God, oh, God, I feel it," she huffed, and the hot injection I gave to her sent her over into her own orgasm. She threw her head back, her wet hair plastered to her forehead and her cheeks, and she cried out softly as she gave herself to her climax.

She hung on to me desperately as the waves crashed through her, her arms around my neck and her legs beginning to hang a little limply from my hips. I stayed pressed inside her through my own orgasm, wanting to feel her heat on me for as long as possible, but eventually I had to withdraw. I stepped back, and she slumped down to regain her feet as she loosened her grip on me.

"That was so ... nice," she said, satisfaction and pleasure evident in her voice.

"What a way to wake up," I said by way of agreement.

She looked up at me through her eyelashes. "I've got lots of ways to wake you up, love."

With the water still pounding on me, I smiled at her. "I'll just bet you do," I said.

Thirty minutes later, freshly showered, freshly shaved, and freshly boffed, I was standing in the buffet line. I was late, but even an undertaker wouldn't have been able to iron the smile off my face. I was happier than I had been since I left to go to Florida. Kayla was lingering upstairs until Keisha and Danielle picked her up. Pick just looked at me as I gathered up a full tray and joined Jesse, Bryan, and Brad at a table.

"And why is Sean so happy this morning?" asked Jesse.

I didn't answer him. Instead I concentrated on my orange juice.

"Oh, yeah," he said with a grin. "I remember now."

Nothing more was said about why I was so happy, which was just as well. Too many people probably already knew.

I was just finishing up my breakfast when Luke grabbed a chair from the next table and pulled it up next to me. Nearly everybody else had already finished, and some of the guys had left the restaurant to get their gear.

Very quietly, Luke said, "You've got to come up with some other arrangement, Porter. I ain't sleeping on the floor again in their room."

"Yeah, okay," I said. "Just keep your voice down." I took a last forkful of scrambled egg. My tank had been empty, but I hadn't realized it until I started eating. I didn't want to overeat and feel stuffed at the start of the game, but I was having trouble stopping. I guess I built up an appetite overnight, I thought to myself. It made me smile to think of how that was accomplished.

I started thinking about how I was going to keep Kayla to myself all night and still let Luke use the room. I needed a plan, and I needed it soon.

The group of us took the elevator up to our floor, and Luke and I split off to go to our room. I knocked before inserting the key.

"It's me, sweetie," I said softly as I opened the door.

Kayla was dressed and sitting on my unmade bed, brushing her hair. She smiled at us as we came in. Luke went over to his pile of stuff and began packing his gear bag. We were due downstairs in about ten minutes to board the bus to Washington, D.C. and the Robert F. Kennedy Stadium for our semi-final game against North Carolina.

"When is Keisha coming?" I asked.

"She should be here in about fifteen or twenty minutes," she said.

"I'm sorry I didn't bring you anything to eat," I said. Sometimes I could be pretty thoughtless, I chastised myself.

Kayla smiled. "That's okay, Sean. There's lots of food at the stadium, I'm sure." She held up her purse and pulled out some paper money. "See? I'm all set."

"I still feel bad," I said. "I really don't mean to be so thoughtless."

She laughed. It wasn't quite how I wanted to make her laugh, but I still enjoyed hearing it, even if it was at my own expense. "You are incredibly silly," she said to me.

"Jeez, you guys," said Luke a little disparagingly. He was at the door, gear bag in hand. "Come on, Porter, we've got a bus to catch."

"Yeah, okay," I said. "Just give me a minute, okay?"

Luke stepped out the door. I sat down next to Kayla and put my arm around her shoulder. "I've got to go," I said.

"I know. I'll be watching. Play your best."

I kissed her softly. "I'll do what I can," I said.

I got up and, just before the door closed, I gave her a small wave. Kayla smiled and waved back at me. Just that vision was enough to carry me through my day.

Luke was in the hall, waiting for me. As we walked toward the bank of elevators, he said, "So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know, dude. But I'll come up with something," I said.

It was still two hours until game time, and as I stepped onto the bus I was glad there was so much time to prepare. I was feeling stuffed, and I was going to need that couple of hours to try to digest some of my breakfast before I had to play. I took one of the rear seats in the bus and stretched out flat on my back, feeling like I needed to try to force my stomach muscles back into their normal position. I worked my back and stomach with isometrics on the way over to Georgetown in an effort to ease the distended feeling in my gut.

It was only about a twenty-minute ride. I was feeling a little better, probably from increasing my blood flow through my stretching. Whatever works, I said to myself as I followed my teammates shuffling down the center aisle of the bus. We grabbed our gear bags and walked to the locker rooms below the stadium.

After a quick strategy session, we dressed for the game and walked up the ramp from the locker rooms, up under the stands, to the field. It was a very big stadium, but it didn't bother us. We had spent the previous week at home practicing in our own football field, getting used to seeing row upon row of bleachers all around us. The difference was that these bleachers were about half full, whereas the ones at home were pretty much empty.

Even so, we took our warm-ups like we did every day, and we tried not to let the stadium or the crowd get to us. North Carolina, several hundred miles closer to Washington, D.C. than Gainesville, had quite a few fans in attendance. There was a large contingent of Tarheels blue and white across the bleachers near the centerline, and only a smattering of Gator orange and blue. School was in session for us, so I doubted any students would have made the trip. Besides, soccer wasn't really much of a spectator sport; even at home our crowds were meager at best.

Pick gave us our starting positions, and I was not surprised to find myself playing midfield again. North Carolina won the coin toss, so they started with the ball. They had seen me in the middle, and they were anxious to test our right defensive side.

They might have known my game, but they obviously didn't spend enough time studying Spencer's game. He easily rebuffed their first foray into our territory with a nice takeaway from his spot at right midfield. He passed the ball over to me, and I switched fields on them, feeding the ball up on my left to Bryan. He and Jesse worked a two-man game to move the ball deep into Tarheels territory, but neither of them could manufacture a good shot at goal. North Carolina's stopper raced over to cut off a crossing pass attempt, and he snagged the ball and took it up the middle for several meters before passing it off to one of his midfielders.

North Carolina was a tough, experienced, savvy team. They showed a lot of patience and poise. They didn't let our powerful front line push them around, and they didn't panic after we scored our first goal, at about the twenty-minute mark. Instead, they put the ball back in play and began another set play with their offensive unit. They didn't force it, they just let the game unfold, and it paid off for them. In the thirty-second minute they tied it up, and in the forty-first minute they took the lead on a beautifully executed corner kick. The kick arced up in the air and curved from the eighteen-meter stripe in toward our goal. It came down within reach about five meters out from the near post. Rick, our keeper, made a play on the ball, but he got blocked out by Ted Artichenkoff, our sweeper, and a North Carolina forward as they jostled each other, each trying to gain an advantage toward the ball against the other. The ball came out of the sky right in front of Ted and his nemesis, and another North Carolina forward elevated, gained a little extra height on his jump by pushing off Frenchy in an illegal move that was unfortunately blocked from the referee's view. This second player whipped his head at the ball and made contact. Rick had no chance of being able to alter his momentum toward the ball as it streaked just past his shoulder and into our net.

At halftime, defense and offense each met separately to brainstorm, and then we huddled together as a team to critique our first half.

Jesse, in his customary role as co-captain of the team and the spokesman for the offense, took the lead.

"So, did defense come up with a strategy to stop these guys?" he asked, looking around at all of us.

Rick, our defensive co-captain, answered. "We've got some adjustments we can make. Frenchy is going to play tighter on his man, Stuart knows he needs to patrol into the middle a little more. To be sure, that corner shouldn't have happened. Other than that, we're playing them pretty straight up."

"Yeah, we are, except for the scoreboard," said Jesse. He turned to me. "What do you have to say about it, Porter?"