Her Game Was Passion Ch. 04

"Shit," Neiman said.

"All the way."

"Shit!"

Tom Baker, the free safety, was the only one left. Three blockers in front of the tight end. All they had to do was cut across the field right straight at Baker and knock him down.

They kept going down the sideline. Baker had a good angle on them. He came straight across. Fast. Sprinting, with his knees high. A paper glider hit me in the cheek. I slapped at it. Baker launched himself as the big pulling guard turned toward him. Baker never broke stride. Just like a projectile, his body shot across in front of the three blockers. It was like a bowling shot. Baker's body drove the pulling guard's body straight into the churning legs of the blockers. For a fraction of a second they seemed to rock, and then like bowling pins they tumbled. They were all down on the ground, the tight end sitting on his ass out of bounds. Baker didn't move. He lay face down on the grass.

Another paper glider hit me. I watched them take Baker out on a stretcher. He looked like a sack of dead fish.

Decatur went to the near hash mark and huddled. A sudden wind swept across the field. Decatur at our forty. The wind rose. No sideline passes now. Steele would have to go to short flares, swings and screens. The wind was in his face. He tried two running plays. Third down and nine. He threw a screen pass; the tight end gathered it in and headed for the goal line, getting a perfect block. Then Duffy, guitar player, out of some little Alabama junior college, cornerback, lying on the ground, got a hand slap on the tight end and the tight end stumbled once and hit the ground.

Fourth down and two. Got to be a sneak of some kind, I thought. Quarterback? No, sneak pass.

"Sneak pass," I said to Neiman. Got to be. Strong block on the defensive end. Halfback swinging behind the fullback to take the cornerback and strong safety with him. Then the fullback --

Here it was. Neiman jumped bellowing: "Sneak pass!"

Sure enough. There it was. Just as it looked as if the fullback were out of the play from the block, he recovered.

Neiman was screaming, "Sneak pass!" and jumping up and down.

Our strong safety didn't sucker. He took the ball right out of the fullback's hands.

B-Right-50 Trap

A-Right-X-34

I looked at the clock. Bat it up. Off tackle. Hold onto the ball. I dived between Koch's legs. The gun sounded. I ran off the field with everybody hammering each other on the back. We were yakking going into the locker room.

Reeves came over to me.

"You were lucky today," he said.

-four-

I felt lousy after the game. I didn't understand it. I was sore all over, but the trainer said there was nothing wrong. Just bruises. Yeah, bruises about ten feet deep, but nothing broken. I didn't understand feeling lousy. I usually felt damn good after winning, and after this win I ought to feel especially ,good. Maybe I was just pooped out, no juice, left inside me to feel good. I felt my right knee. Not puffy. Well, I'd know tomorrow. It wouldn't show until tomorrow. Maybe that's what worried me. I remembered now wrenching it, but not aware of it in the game. I had hurt it a long time ago in college, and now on wet and cold days, it got stiff at times. There were two buses. I was sitting on the second bus with Neiman.

"What about Jackos?" I said.

"Little concussion," said Koch, who was sitting across the aisle. "Schaeffer pulled a leg muscle."

"Bad?"

"He'll make it."

The rest of the injuries sounded like a special litany: lacerations, lacerations, knee, knee, knee, ankle, ankle, ankle, teeth, teeth, teeth, bruises, deep, deep, deep, arms, broken, broken.

"They ought to put it to music. We could chant it before every game."

"What?" Neiman said.

"Or get a choir."

"What's the matter? You get hit in the head?"

"Hit in the head, hit in the head, hit in the head," I chanted.

"Hey," Neiman said. "Somebody get the doc. Norton's gone bonkers."

"Bonkers. Bonkers. Bonkers. Over the Bonkers and far away," I started to sing and went on singing.

"Jesus!" Koch stared. "Talk about me?"

"Ely's going to fall into the iron-ore pit."

Koch started singing and then we were all singing, "Ricker, racker, firecracker, Kansas City's a cracker-jacker."

"Jacker-off," said Neiman. "I thought for a while you'd slipped your trolley."

"I did," I said. "I'm O.K. now. All 'I have to do is sing and everything's happy."

"You're nuts."

"Nuts. Nuts. Nuts."

I went to sleep on the bus, dreaming about Mary Derry. It was dawn when we got into Kansas City. My knee felt stiff as I stepped out of the bus. I felt like walking death. It was seven-thirty in the morning. The sky looked like somebody had pissed on it. I went to the nearest telephone booth and called Mary. A female voice answered, half asleep.

"She's not here."

"Can I reach her at the hospital?"

"Who's calling?"

"Scott Norton."

"She left a message for you. 'Good luck."'

"What're you talking about?"

"She moved out. Gone."

"Where?"

"Out of town. She didn't say. For good."

"Quit kidding."

"I'm not kidding. Not at this hour."

I called the hospital. She'd left town. No forwarding address. It was awful. I wondered suddenly why I had thought it was so important now to make a comeback. Without her, there was no point to the comeback. Nothing at all. A real depression hit me. I fought it. I stood there in the telephone booth fighting it. Maybe her mother died. Or father. Why would she leave so suddenly? I couldn't get rid of the fuzzy feeling that her leaving had something to do with me. I felt like I was dead. I took a taxi back to the motel and went to bed. There wasn't a goddamn thing I could do. Wouldn't you know it? Fall in love with a dizzy dame. Some kind of nut. Well, I was back on track. No more broads. That wouldn't be easy. That was stupid. No more booze. That was smart. Work. My knee felt stiff. Work. I dozed, dreaming of a Niagara Falls of bodies falling on top of me. Even now I could smell the grass from the field. I must work. Damn it, I can make it back.

I woke up without remembering I had been sleeping. The light was on. Mary Ann was sitting on the edge of the bed. What the hell, I thought, what the hell?

"Who let you in?"

"Don't you ever lock your door?"

"The morgue is always open."

I only had a look at her eyes to know what her intentions were. Her eyes were saying it; I want it and I want all of it and I'm' going to show you a good time. My cock understood. I cursed myself. Damn it. Did it run me or did I run it? Here it was running me again and I was in love with Mary. But where was she? My goddamn dick didn't care about love. I felt it getting hard.

If Mary Derry was going to run out, to hell with it. Save love for who? Maybe the nearest thing to love I was ever going to get was the same: pubic area pressure and needed relief. Periodic purging of gorged muscle. Christ, all the romantic poetry that had been written in its name.

"How's everything going with the team?" she asked.

"Fine. Still at the supermarket?"

"I haven't been there in a couple of weeks."

"New job?"

"Drugstore. Better hours."

I got out of bed and asked her if she'd like a bottle of pop.

"You've got to be kidding;" she giggled.

"I'm off the sauce."

"Well, if you don't mind, no pop."

She smiled.

"Let's get your clothes off and get into bed," I said.

"Awful hurry, aren't you?"

"That's what you want, isn't it?"

"Could be."

She looked at the wall for a long moment.

"Sure," she said. "I like it. I want it."

I laughed. "Now you're being yourself." I sat down beside her on the bed.

We were still a couple of feet apart. It was a big double bed.

"You're really a nice guy," she said.

"How's that?"

"You try so hard being a tough bastard, but you're a big slob."

I had to laugh at that.

"Anybody ever tell you that you're a nice guy?"

I looked at her face. She reached and touched my cheek with fingertips.

"I'm sure they have. If you want to, you can even be charming."

"Nice," I said.

But there was something else in her eyes now and it bothered me. A kind of beyond-look, as if there were some feeling in her, she was not going to tell anybody about. I could feel it getting to me and I didn't want it to. She looked like she had been looking for a long time for somebody to fall in love with. No way, Mary Ann. You'll get laid, but don't start bringing love into it. No way.

I was already naked. She started to take off her sweater. I helped her lift it over her head. Her breasts were huge; there were about eight eyehooks on her brassiere. I unfastened each hook. She let her brassiere fall to the carpet. She turned around. Her huge breasts gleamed at me, big as car headlights.

"Beautiful!" I said.

She let her skirt fall to the floor. Then she sat down on the edge of the bed and slipped off her panties and pantyhose.

I kept watching her eyes. She paused a moment and then swiveled her butt and drew her legs up on the bed and leaned back against the headboard, her knees drawn up against her breasts. She gave me a completely happy smile.

"Don't be in such a hurry please," she said.

She had smooth wide hips, narrow waist. She stared at my prick.

"Come here," she said. "I want to see something."

My cock was skin tight, drum hard.

"Lie down," she said.

I lay back but she didn't touch my dick. She bent down over it, like a judge at a flower show.

"My God," she said.

"What's the trouble?"

"I never saw it before in daylight. My God!"

"You ought to know what you've had, in darkness or in light."

"I knew it was big, but I never knew it was this damn big," she said.

"Don't faint."

"I would have if I'd known you were sticking this elephant gun into me."

"Maybe we better turn out the lights."

"No, it's better this way."

"When the candles are low, all cats are grey."

"Maybe," she said. "But they don't all have such huge cocks."

"It ain't what you do," I sang, "it's the way that you do it."

"Not for me. I like it big and I love yours."

"What if it doesn't fit?"

"What do you mean?"

"I never had it all the way in you before."

"You're kidding!"

"Let's try it on for full size," I said.

She lowered her legs slowly and spread them wide. I eased over on top of her. She opened her legs wider. I put one hand under her fanny and lifted her up to me, putting the head of my cock right on the lips of her vagina. She moved up and I slipped it in an inch at a time. I didn't push hard. I really didn't know if she could handle the whole big business, but it kept going in and in and in. She winced a little and slowed down. She nodded her head up and down. Her eyes were closed. I felt her come up a little higher and then my dick was in all the way, right to the hilt, real fine.

"Come on. Come on," she said breathlessly.

I rammed it to her once and she damn near jumped out of bed. "Oh. My God," she said. "Take it easy. Slow and easy."

I gave her a couple of slow strokes and felt her clit come up.

"Oh, fuck me, fuck me," she moaned suddenly.

I knew that if I rammed it all the way, I was going to take the bottom out of her. I could feel it touch bottom when I went in slowly. If I went in fast, it would rip her up. I pulled it out a little and told her to bring her legs closer together. I thrust faster. Her arms came up around my neck and her head lifted, searching for my mouth.

She started to kiss my mouth and neck and shoulders. I held her upward, with one hand on her back, kissing her nipples. I could hear my lips smacking wet on those rigid nipples. This was good. Maybe this was better than love. No strings, no connections. You didn't kill loneliness with love. You just compounded the problem of loneliness with other problems. This was a great lay, and that's what I needed now. I felt all the soreness going out of my body. I heard us breathing louder and louder. Her mouth opened and my tongue went inside; our tongues kissed and then her tongue went away and she took hold of my lower lip with her teeth.

It felt great. I heard myself moaning a little. I was setting a hell of a pace. No, smoking and drinking. That's the key to windless screwing. I felt her clit rising harder and harder and her legs starting to spread. I pushed them back together or my whole penis would take her apart. Oh, the lovely pressure on the part that wasn't inside, Hmmm.

Her mouth drew away. "Oh, God!" she said.

She was hotter than hell now. Her cunt was wide open and all honey. Her flesh was getting hotter and I knew she was getting excited as hell. Her fingers were running all over me, up and down my back and thighs, over and over again.

We both started moaning into each other's mouths. Aaahh. It was really good. Getting better. She made little cries of delight when I squeezed her buttocks hard. She loved it. Her lips sloshed against each other. I had a good steady rhythm going in and out, not too fast, not too slow.

"Oh, Jesus," she said. "You're so damn wide."

"When I get through with you, you'll be able to screw a horse," I whispered.

I drew her breath straight into me and I could hear my breath coming faster and faster, rushing into her mouth. She began- to squeeze with her cunt muscles, wanting me to pour a hot load into her.

She put her hands around my ass; grabbed my lower lip with her teeth. She thrust her thighs up and down, going faster and faster. I stepped up the pace. I didn't think she could hold without blowing herself out of the room.

Our bodies were soaked with sweat. Christ, I couldn't hold it much longer. Then I felt her finger probing my anus.

"What's the matter?" I panted.

"Go ahead. Come on." I felt her finger in my anus and I pumped harder. Come on, you bitch, you're going to come.

"I can hold it," I said. I went after her harder and harder, but I could tell she was near coming. What the hell.

"Give it to me, honey. Please, please."

"Come on," I told her.

"Don't worry. Come on, honey."

She put her tongue in my ear. I felt like my cock was an easy rider now and I felt it was going to be a long one that I could control. I was going to see how long I could stay without coming, because I couldn't feel she was even near coming.

She started to shake all over and moan suddenly. I could feel by the insides of her, she wasn't going to come. Maybe she couldn't come this way. Suddenly I began to lose desire. She tried hard to fake it but I couldn't buy it.

I stopped. She started to cry.

"What's the matter?" I said.

"I just can't."

"Where do you want me to stick it?"

She drew away. Before I knew what was happening she was bending over me and giving me head. I lifted her up and shifted her around and got my tongue against her vagina. I ran my tongue over her clitoris. She started to moan and cry and she stopped giving me head. Then suddenly she put the head in her mouth again. When I came, I thought the top of my dick was going to fly off. My eyes were closed but I was shooting so damn high and hard, I almost heard it. My cock kept spasming until I was dead beat. I lay back sweating and breathing hard. I felt like I'd run a hundred yards through a herd of elephants.

"What's the trouble?" I asked her finally. "You didn't make it."

"I can't make it."

"Didn't you come that time in the hospital?"

"Couldn't you tell?"

"I was a little punchy."

"I didn't," she said.

"Are you frigid?"

"No, I like you, Scott."

"I mean, are you frigid?"

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you ever come with anybody?"

She shook her head.

"I really like to give head," she said.

"You ought to see a doctor or shrink. Honest to God, you've never come with a guy?"

"I can't."

"I feel sorry for you."

I felt sorry, for both of us. Sorry I was just getting my gun off like a goddamn animal. Sorry she'd maybe never known what it was like. Sorry Mary wasn't here. I felt lousy, a wilted cock with a headmaster. That's love for you. I thought about Mary and felt rotten and cursed my cock. I wished Mary Ann would get the hell home.

"I like you, Scott."

What the hell was I supposed to say to that? I rolled over and lay face down. She didn't speak. After a couple of minutes I heard her getting dressed. I rolled and sat up and pulled her onto my lap and gave her a kiss. Her lips felt small and cold. It was like kissing a baby.

"Forget it," I said. "You're a big help. I needed you."

"Oh, Scotty," she breathed against my neck. "I need you, too."

I patted her shoulder and kissed her throat and cheeks.

"I've got to get some sleep," I told her. She got up.

"Be seeing you," she said. I watched her open the door and depart. It was while I was taking a shower that I knew I'd have to move. I didn't want any part of that poor sick kid. I had enough problems. Damn it. I was in love. I didn't want this kind of lonely and incomplete lovemaking I'd had tonight. I wanted love with somebody who loved me. And I her.

-five-

I started the next two games, and Jacko started the two after that. We spelled each other off in the second half. We won all four games, which didn't make me look any better than Jackos, but Reeves wasn't letting either of us go the distance. I didn't know why and he ignored that question whenever I asked him.

After the sixth game I was the last one to leave the dressing room. Reeves was waiting outside for me.

"I might as well tell you now," he said.

"I'm not going to make it to the Viking taxi squad?"

"Don't try to be funny."

"It's not funny. You never let either of us finish a game."

"There's a pusher on the team."

"So?"

"You don't know anything about it, I suppose?"

"The goddamn doctor probably. Who the hell do you think we get our pep pills from?"

"Nope. Hash. Heroin."

"Come on."

"I want a straight answer, Scott."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"It was found in your locker."

"You're nuts!"

"Ask Clemens. We haven't turned it over to the feds."

"Thanks a lot."

"Do I play like I'm on the stuff?"

"We had to let Haven go. He was on the needle."

"What's that got to do with me?"

"We found some in your locker."

"Goddamn frame?" I yelled at him. "If you want to get rid of me, say so! Don't pull this crap. Would I keep it in my locker if I were using it?"

"Who knows what a dope-head will do?"

"You're full of crap. Did Haven say I was pushing it?"

"He wouldn't say anything."

"Somebody's trying to put a jacket on me. That goddamn Lennox. Or Jackos."

"I'm not making this up."

"Who said you were? Haven said there's a pusher on the squad, but he won't name him."

"I'll see if I can find out."

Frankly, I didn't give a crap. Somebody was trying to put a jacket on me.

"I need your help."

"Want to see my needle marks?"

"Do you smoke hash, Scott?"

"Give me a kiss and find out. Half the squad gets a little hash smash now and then. I've never touched the stuff."

"Who smokes hash?"

"Don't ask me."

"I'll fire him."

"You'll lose a lot of good players."

-six-

I started to worry to beat hell about the fact that we had only three more games to play. My right knee was acting up, too. Nobody knew it but the last two games I'd shot it with novocain myself. I was finished. All the sacrifice and training and hard work,. and nothing out of it, except going back to selling stocks and bonds after the season. So if Jackos was trying to frame me, it didn't matter. Nothing but selling stocks and bonds the rest of my life. I'd tried to prove something and I hadn't proved a damn thing, except that you go over the hill in this game. I should have known it. Crazy. I shouldn't even have tried. I tried to find Mary, but it wasn't any use. A private detective wanted a fortune to find her. I tried not thinking about her. I moved, took a room with a kitchenette in an old apartment house. That took care of Mary Beth, but not Mary Derry. Nothing took care of Mary Derry. The knee got better, the stiffness went, then it came back.