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Elegant rhythmic gymnastics routine leads to lust.

Running cars with fumes coming from the exhaust waited at the school. Parents, girlfriends, boyfriends or partiers who had either made the trip or listened to the game on the radio were there to meet their children or friends. Most of the players had their own vehicles. So did some of the cheerleaders. Monique drove a Jeep, hunter green with a gold top that was off because of the hot August night.

Bret drove a newer-model Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo, and it was parked around back near the coaches' entrance to the school. Neither was sure of the plan now. She had cum so forcefully and so close to town that she was in a hurry to get back to her original seat. What had been said? Bret thought.

Didn't she whisper she wanted to fuck him and suck his cock and taste his cum? Didn't he moan back in agreement that he wanted his cock in her tight, young pussy? And his tongue in her hot, young mouth? Didn't he want to take that tight little cheerleading outfit off of her like he'd fantasized so many times?

He did, but he was beginning to wonder if any firm plans had been made. He sat in his office, pretending to go over stats but really he just read and re-read Monique's notes to him. "Are you hard?" one of them said. "I can see you're hard."

"You have incredibly sexy legs," he had written to her. There were others, but as he turned the page, trying to re-create in chronological order what had been written, he found that the words soon ended. That's when the finger fucking began.

He was instantly hard again. He heard voices as the players left the locker room. He tried to listen to what was going on just outside in the cafeteria. Usually the after-game parties were planned on the bus on the way home, but it seemed the long game had taken its toll on everyone and they instantly went to sleep once boarding the bus. So perhaps the party was being planned right now. Bret heard someone mention the rock quarry, a lake, someone's basement. The coach thought he heard one of the players even mention the dugouts on the baseball field. He heard one female voice, but it wasn't Monique's. At least he didn't think it was.

He waited until his cock's hardness disappeared, which was a long wait since he was anticipating being with Monique. He entered the cafeteria to see three football players, one manager and a cheerleader, Renee'.

They quickly stopped talking when they saw him, gathered their belongings and headed out. He made a quick sweep through the locker room, the cafeteria and then upstairs to the parking lot. It was empty. Completely empty. Well, except for Jed Pullman's 1967 Mustang. It was parked in its usual place. Had been for 2 years. It didn't run.

Other than that, the lot was empty. No Jeep. No Monique. Disappointed, Bret returned to the locker room, hoping perhaps she'd parked around the corner and sneaked back into the school. He looked around, but didn't dare call out her name. She simply wasn't there. He grabbed his stat sheet and tote bag and quickly checked the phone, but there were no messages. She had gone to the party, wherever it was. He jumped in his Laredo and headed home, past the Pizza Palace, which was closed. It stayed open after home games, but after a long bus ride back, it didn't pay to keep it open for just a few players.

He drove past the convenience store, seeing a few players, probably trying to talk someone into buying them some beer. It was 12:30 a.m. But there was no Monique.

Maybe she got a better offer. She seemed like the type that probably fucked a lot of guys. Hell, she let the coach bang her in the bus on the way home. But she was between boyfriends, apparently. Either Bret's finger fucking her turned her on and she went to find someone to finish her off -- again -- or it wore her out and she headed home and to bed. But he remembered, she had said she didn't have a deadline. Hadn't she said that? Hadn't she?

Bret drove past the body shop where his other vehicle, a 1980 Chevy Pickup, sat outside, waiting to be worked on.

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