Well it looks like no matter how hard I try I can't stop writing long stories. Oh well...I hope you all enjoy this one. If you like it drop me line and let me know. If enough people like it I'll continue, if not, I'll move on to another story. ENJOY!
The Schaffer family was all smiles on this particular Friday afternoon. They were leaving for their annual summer vacation. Their bags were packed, the SUV loaded, and all that remained was for them to load themselves up. Every year they took a weeklong road trip with no fixed destination.
December, The Taylor Residence, North Wilmington, Delaware.
Russell Taylor looked out of his bedroom window at the street crammed with parked cars. It was the week before Christmas and Trolley Square was full of office workers heading for parties in the local bars and restaurants.
It wasn't a regular day of practice; only Hank and I had come in, and we'd worked out in the gym after we'd done laps on the field. I could tell he was steamed about something, but I didn't ask about what. He had finished first, and it looked like I had the locker room to myself when I came in from the gym. I took a quick shower and pulled on my briefs and some baggy shorts and an athletic T, and there he was, right at my locker before I had gotten around to pulling my sneakers on. There was fire in his eyes, and he slammed my locker closed with his fist.
Plot teaser: Jake shot Steven a look as Ryan left the room, and he leaned over to talk to him, too quietly for Ryan to overhear. "Serious, man... without knowing it was her, he'd so tap that," he speculated, cockily.
*The following is a description of characters. I tried to edit in the descriptions to the story, but if you'd like to read them anyway, here they are. Otherwise, feel free to skip the note and continue to the story.
I've written this story at the request of a fan. It is purely fiction. I want to give a prologue that quickly explains my attitude to the issues it raises. Certain things happen in this story that I would not want to happen in real life. In real life I believe in equality and consent. I have moral values. However, my mind is a safe playground for any fantasy I choose. If fantasies remain fantasies and do not become obsessions, they are safe. They are also exciting. Enough of that, you're here for my story.
I had just gotten home, trying to unwind from a trying day, when the doorbell rang. I opened the door to two men. One was tall, suave and polished. He was dressed to perfection, creased and pressed. Not a hair out of place, not a move that wasn't smooth and efficient. He didn't do a thing for me. He was too perfect, too practiced, and too straight. But the other guy, well, he gave me an immediate temperature rise, plus a rise in other areas.