Chapter 3
IT WAS WORSE THAN RITA EXPECTED. AL was clumsy-big, like Bill was big-but clumsy and in a hurry. He pushed his hand inside the low neck of her blouse and under her bra cup and his fingers poked aside the tissue of her breast and hurt her as he clawed the whole mound into his palm. His skin was callused; it scratched her nipple. But he kneaded as he smothered her with his thick lips and she felt the prickle of early excitement shoot through her to lodge in her crotch. She leaned back in the chair with her eyes closed, aware that two of the buttons on her blouse had popped off and that the fastener of her bra had given way. And she felt her blouse peeled back and her bra pulled off and knew that she was as exposed as Cora and Elsie had been.
There was heat at her crotch; Al's crude efforts had already brought a flow of fluid. She squirmed as she felt the moisture spreading against her pants. She kept her eyes tightly closed and continued to grip the chair arms as Al's fingers left her breasts and touched her left thigh. She felt them creep up the inside of her leg, touching both thighs because she had them clamped together and reaching the tops of her hose. He pushed them upward over the bare skin, which was sweaty from contact and they reached the edge of her panties.
She gritted her teeth as he pushed the material aside and probed at her wet labia. For a moment, she held her breath to keep from vomiting. Al's other hand pried at her knee and she gave in, let ting her thighs fall apart-pressing her knees against the arms of the chair. His fingers rubbed back and forth on the inner surfaces of her vulva folds and abruptly he pressed them inward, thrusting them to their full length into her.
Her hips jerked. She visualized how she must look, chest and breasts bare, head back against the back of the chair, hands clutching the chair arms, legs widespread, skirt pushed up and Al's arm disappearing into the darkness of that cave. Something-it must be his thumb, she thought wildly -jammed against her clitoris and began to maul it. She straightened, shoving her body free of the seat. But there was no escape and physical excitement jolted her. She gasped.
"Oh, please, Al! Not so rough!"
He pulled his fingers out and she felt herself lifted and rolled and jostled as her clothes were torn from her. When she was naked, Al laid her on her back across the arm of the chair, her head resting on the opposite arm, her legs hanging out to the side. She tried to bring her knees together, but they encountered his trouser legs. She opened her eyes long enough to see him towering between her thighs, unbuttoning his own clothes as he stared down at her body. She shut them again, sickened at the appearance of haste and the mottled color of his face.
In a moment, it was his hairy legs that kept her thighs apart, instead of trouser-covered ones and his fingers stabbed inside her while he crushed her clitoris. She fought for control, but pain and passion mingled to make her thrash to his touch. There was a moment's respite and then a hard mass boring into the wet hole and filling her. Al pumped. He passed his hands under her buttocks and raised them so that he could stand erect with her pinned on his penis. Her back writhed with agony at its tight arc and she felt herself flung back and forth by his lunges.
To her surprise, she felt an orgasm sweeping over her and she was only faintly aware of Al's stiffening-or of the heat of his fluid as he spewed it into her.
"Hey! Rita! Snap out of it! Game's over!"
Rita shook her head and focused her eyes. She was still in the snack bar and Mrs. Woods peered at her with concern. There were kids coming on the run, eager for their after-game treats.
"Boy, you really were on cloud nine!" Mrs. Woods said. "Might as well have been sleeping with your eyes open." The older woman turned toward the window. "What'll it be, Donny?" she asked the first boy to arrive.
Rita went through the motions. Spring. That had all happened in the spring. Here it was fall and she didn't like swapping any better than she had then. She didn't like the way Al made love, nor the way Bill did. She didn't like having Ted give someone else the stimulus that belonged to her. Worst of all, she hated the two times when out-of-town couples-strangers-had shown up and joined their sex free-for-alls.
There was a lump of fear in her chest that wouldn't go away. Something was going to happen and it wouldn't be good.
The crowd at the window melted away and Rita and Mrs. Woods gathered the things that had to be taken out of the snack bar. Rita thought that Mrs. Woods was still puzzled by her earlier behavior and she wondered what kind of expressions and sounds she'd made as she relived that first experience. It chilled her to realize how revealing that daydream may have been. She was thankful when Ted and Cora came to the back door. She had to get away from the field.
They found Al sprawled out in his easy chair before the TV with a tall can of beer at his elbow. He was naked from the waist up, with a disreputable pair of dungarees emphasizing his relaxation. He grinned as they came in.
"Hi, ladies. Take off your tops. It's cooler this way."
"Al!" exclaimed Cora and Rita together.
He leered. "Admit it. You'd like to."
"Now you stop that, Al Sharp. You're a disgrace." Cora sniffed with pretended offense.
Al chuckled. "Welcome, boss coach. Sorry I blew it at the field today. Bill says you managed to keep the line alive in spite of my loss."
"I thought a couple of times that they were going to get away from us," Ted said. "But the kids kept right on hitting."
"Burwell will file a report with the federation, won't he?"
Ted nodded. "But we'll have to register a com plaint about his officiating, too, so I wouldn't worry about it."
"I guess the Bucks' coach has more to be unhappy about than we do." Al drew a deep draft from the beer can.
"He did draw more penalties than we did. I'm not sure how the game would have come out without those."
Al squinted up at Ted. "What did you think of Ron's boys?"
Ted whistled. "I think the league has a real problem there."
"What kind of problem, Ted?"
"Ethics."
"Ron?"
"Yeah. You remember Darryl Strong?"
Al frowned, then nodded. "Sure! Played for Ron last year. Too old to go out this year."
"Right. He played today."
"What do you mean?!" Al sat up.
"He played right line-backer and left offensive end-well, really tight end-for Ron."
"How the hell did he get through weigh-in?" asked Al.
"He didn't. He changed clothes with one of Ron's third string regulars after weigh-in."
"Who?"
"I don't know. Haven't checked yet. It was number eighty-three."
Al rummaged through the stack of magazines and papers on the end table and pulled out the season program. He flipped the pages to Ron Demming's roster.
"Here it is," he said. "Broncos. Let's see. Number eighty, eighty-one, eighty-two, eighty three. Hm. Eighty-three ... Mike Terrence." He looked puzzled. "How come Mike's people didn't say something?"
Ted shrugged. "That'd be interesting to know."
"What're you going to do?"
"What I should do is call Wilson, Let him find out how come."
"Wilson. Oh! Player agent?"
"Yeah."
"Well, why don't you?"
"I guess I'll have to. Haven't really any choice."
"What was the final score, Ted?"
"Broncos sixty-three, Warhawks zero."
"JESUS! Why'd he have to run up the score like that!" Al was on his feet now.
"Maybe he's out for some kind of record."
"Ted! The Warhawks were strong! They'd only had fourteen points scored against them before today!"
Ted's shoulders dropped. "They lost their first string quarterback and their two best running backs due to injury in the first series of downs. And their star line-backer got carried off on the first defensive play."
"And?" Al's eyes narrowed.
"I heard that their coach complained to Burwell about it-claimed every one of those injuries was done deliberately."
"Aw, come on. Even Ron wouldn't have his guys do that. How did it look to you?"
"I didn't see it. I hadn't gotten back from the van by that time." Ted grinned. "Parent conference."
"After a win? I thought you only got those when you were losing."
"This parent wanted to be sure I understood how much our fine coaching effort is appreciated."
Al began to grin. "Sounds like it might have been a mother. Who was she?"
Ted laughed. "The hell with that! I'm not about to violate a confidence!"
"I suppose Rita was stuck in the snack bar and couldn't look after you. I'll have to find out why the hell Cora wasn't on the job." Al punched Ted on the shoulder. "Must be hell to be so irresistible."
"Go to hell!"
Ted called Jerry Wilson after dinner. Wilson promised to check out the illegal player.
"That's serious, Ted. If it's true, we'll have to suspend Ron. If the federation found out about it, we'd have to expel him from the local association and forfeit all the games he's played."
"I know that, Jerry. But if the federation found out about it and we weren't doing anything, they could lift our charter."
"Well, I'll let you know what I find out."
An hour later, Wilson called back. "Ted, I hope you didn't talk to anyone but me about the Darryl Strong business."
"Why?"
"It didn't happen. I called Ron Demming and the Strong boy and Mike Terrence. They all deny it."
"Jerry, if any of the kids on the Warhawks got a good look at Strong, the next time you'll hear about this will be from the federation."
"What do you mean? How would they know?"
"He got the 'most valuable player' award in the play-off last year and their team treated him to a big steak dinner. Remember?"
"I was out of town then, Ted. But I don't think that'd matter. Our position is that he wasn't on the field today."
"That sounds to me like a dangerous stand."
"That's my problem, Brown. You worry about your next game and let me worry about player eligibility."
"Did you warn Ron?"
"I don't see how that concerns you."
"All right, Jerry. I hope you don't sound this touchy if the federation starts asking questions.
"Good night."
John Gale came to the house immediately after Ted's conversation with Jerry Wilson. Ted broke out beers and the two settled down in the living room.
"I went out to East Fork to watch the Eagles today," John told Ted.
"Who were they playing?" asked Ted, knowing they'd played the High Vista Bombers.
"High Vista. Beat them thirteen to nothing."
"Let's see. We played the Bombers in our second game, didn't we," mused Ted. "Squeaked by."
"Fourteen to thirteen. They scored around end both times."
Ted grinned. "Those first two games showed up our outside weakness, didn't they. We've got that kind of thing stopped, now."
"So do the Eagles."
"How do the Eagles manage to hold it?"
Gale opened his notebook and spread diagrams out on the floor. He and Ted got down on hands and knees and pored over the symbols and lines.
"They move with the flow of the play," Gale said. "I haven't seen another team in the league as strong in that department."
"Fast?" asked Ted.
John Gale nodded. "Fast. What they lack in defensive size, they make up in speed."
"They're not big?"
"Maybe it was their uniforms-sort of a pale blue this year. But they looked smaller than High Vista, man for man."
"Did High Vista make any decent gains?"
"Only on busted plays. Five or six times their backs got scared when they saw they were cut off. Turned around and ran back the way they'd come and picked up enough to scare the eagles."
"How about passes?"
"High Vistas passer was out with the flu today. They didn't throw much."
"How did the Eagles score?"
"Off tackle from the six yard line once and thirty yards on a double reverse the other time."
They studied specific formations the Eagles had used and finished the beer. Gale stood, certain that he had told Ted everything he knew about the Eagles.
"How's Timmy coming?" asked Ted. "Is he going to be able to play at all this year?"
"I doubt it. The doctor thinks he might be out of the cast next week, but he won't be using the leg that well before the end of the season."
"We miss him, John."
"You should hear the groans when the doctor mentions any possibility that he won't be back for the last couple of games."
"I'll bet."
When Gale had left, Rita came into the living room. Ted gasped. She had on a fitted pair of white duck beach trousers-only. He stared at her, feeling hunger rise in him.
"Elsie called while you and Mr. Gale were talking," she said.
"Yes, we were, hon. Uh ... Oh! She did? What about?"
"About how about getting together at their house next Saturday night for spaghetti and meat balk and booze."
"Saturday. Well, it could be a wake. Gale tells me the Eagles look strong."
Rita shrugged and her nipples jumped. "Maybe. But it could be a celebration."
Ted grinned. "Sounds good to me. Who else is going?"
"She said Al and Cora were going to be there and that she was asking Ron and Nan Demming."
"Ron and Nan! How come?" He thought about big, feline Nan Demming. There was one he'd like to ride! He'd never mounted one just like her. And redheaded, besides!
"How come?" Rita hesitated for a moment. Then, "She says it's because Bill thinks we're going to go all the way in our division. He thinks we're going to go up against Ron in the play-off for the championship."
"He does, huh."
Rita nodded. "But I think maybe it's because Ron's so ruthless that Elsie wants to figure out a way to get into bed with him."
"Honey!" Ted stared up into her eyes. "She's not that kind!"
"I think she is, Ted."
"Wow! Cora, maybe, but not Elsie."
Rita didn't answer. She moved her shoulders slowly and her breasts swayed.
"Goddamnit, baby! I can't think of anything but you when you do that!" objected Ted.
"I don't want you to."
"You're trying to tell me something."
"Mmm. Hinting, perhaps. Am I too subtle?"
Ted reached for her. "Come down here, doll. What's this 'subtle' crap?" He laid her across his lap and leered down at her.
"Ted! After all!"
"After all what?"
"After all you've had to do today. Aren't you afraid this'll be too strenuous?"
He squeezed her breast and bent his face close to hers. He growled. "We'll have to remember the question next time we come up for air."