Kicker, Fran, and Molly

KICKER, FRAN AND MOLLY

I'm Francis Allison, thirty-four years old. I was in good shape when I was thirty-three. Not so much, anymore, but working at it. I was hit by a pick-up truck while jogging on a country road, last year. I was jogging, with headphones playing Santana. Then I was wrapped around a tree. At the time I wasn't aware why I was wrapped around a tree. I recall, now, that I heard a roar and dodged toward the berm of the road. When it happened, I was not making an analysis of what had caused me to be at the tree. I just knew I had to get to the road. I began to crawl. I later learned that I did make it to the road, just. A man on a Harley saw me there, called 911.

I was taken to Memorial Hospital, some twelve miles away from the scene of the incident. They 'stabilized' me, and packed me off by chopper to University Hospital for extensive treatment. I had a small skull fracture, several broken ribs, one of which punctured my lung, and a broken shoulder blade. I also had a displaced hip, and an injury to my left knee. At University they relieved some pressure on my brain from a hemorrhage, and began repairs. They dealt with the ribs, and lung. (I know all this from reading my charts and speaking to various medicos. At the time I was in an induced coma.) The next day they realigned the hip, and did a quick arthroscope on the knee. The shoulder blade required more extensive work, over a matter of days, for reasons having to do with the number of breaks. They put me into a cast to immobilize the bone and arm. My right arm, too.

All of that happened and, perhaps luckily, I recall almost nothing of it. I came out of the coma, and into a fog. Sometimes I was awake. Usually not. I really couldn't move much. When I was more aware, I began to ask about what happened, and about my family. I had been in and out of consciousness for three and a half weeks.

I was reassured that my family was okay and would be in to see me soon. As to what happened, a Sherriff's investigator was called in to take a statement. I told him what I knew. He knew more than I did. The biker who called 911 had seen an old pick-up truck headed east. It passed him before he found me. The driver's side mirror was dangling. The driver was a tall man, wearing a hoodie and baseball cap. The biker didn't get a great look. He saw no one else in the truck. The investigator had driven over the route, until the side road came to a larger highway. At that intersection, he found the mirror. It was from an older Ford, 80's perhaps. Back where I was hit, the officers had found some debris, consistent with the same model. He asked if I knew anyone with that type of vehicle. I didn't. He then told me that the incident was being treated as a deliberate assault. Since it resulted in serious injury, the State Police had been consulted and called in to help. The local sheriff had a limited budget. He said that a State Police investigator would be in to discuss the matter with me in the next days. I thanked him. I began to consider who would want to -- basically -- kill me. It was possible that it was some random crazy. I thought that unlikely. So, I took stock and called my accountant. I had a lap top computer brought to my room. I was in good enough shape to use one.

I spent about an hour on the computer, checking bank records, my deposits from certain royalties, outgoing amounts. I had a business account, and it made deposits into a joint checking account for me and my wife, Molly. Out of that account we took care of regular expenses. There seemed to be about $40k more outgoing than was ordinary and necessary, over the time between my accident and today, just 25 days. This was done with several checks, made out to cash. Molly signed them. I stopped all deposits into that account. There was only about $12k left in it. I withdrew as much as I could, $5k. I didn't know what was happening. I expected Molly and the kids to visit today. I had to decide whether to ask about it.

MOLLY AND THE GANG

Molly is my wife, Molly Allison, nee Herbert. Molly is a pretty, vivacious woman, medium height, good figure, a natural blonde. She and I met at university -- State U. We have two children, Blake, eleven, and Mary, ten. They are both in the local school. Molly is my age. We met at college. She was a football groupie. I tutored several players. All the football guys lived in a dorm for them only. Except many of them had off campus apartments. I met Molly when we were sophomores. I was tutoring three or four players. She was sexually involved with them. Three of the players had an apartment in a complex near campus. There were three bedrooms and a big living room with a kitchen/dining room off that. That's where I would go to tutor these guys in certain subjects -- different for each.

Roland Jefferson was a running back, a star. He was also quite intelligent. He didn't need ordinary tutoring. However, he had an advanced statistics class that was difficult, and he wanted to do well. So I got involved. Roland was an African-American, just over six feet, maybe 220 pounds. At the time he had a short Afro. He was very handsome, brown skinned, and was a heartthrob.

Marty Baker was a wide receiver, first team. He was a light complected African-American who needed help with basic math. He wasn't slow or anything. He just spent a lot of time with various coeds, and not a lot of time with the books. I would catch him up at test time.

Kenneth (Kicker) Bascom was a tall, blonde guy, also very good looking. He was, as his nickname implies, a kicker. He was an all-around kicker. He kicked off, punted and did field goals. He needed some help with a basic computer class, and also with trig. I don't know why he was taking trig, since he wanted to kick in the NFL, or else sell real estate. (Or both.) Once he said that someone told him that trig was all about angles. So was kicking. He took trig. I don't think it helped. However, he really didn't need help -- with kicking.

All these guys were juniors that year I met Molly. She practically lived at their apartment, although I never knew which bedroom she'd be in on any given day. There were other women who cycled in and out of the place. None were there as often as Molly. Molly had a dorm room, but I don't think her roommate saw much of her. When the team was on campus, she would cook breakfast and dinner, if someone was there. Nothing fancy. She also cleaned up some.

I had a regular schedule with the fellows. During the season I would see them in the morning, about 9:00 am through noon. Who was first depended upon who came out of hibernation earliest. Usually it was Jeff (Roland). Often, he was waiting for me when I got there. It was really a pleasure dealing with him. His was the bedroom that Molly most often frequented. They seemed to get along well. Of course, they were not exclusive. Jeff had an ongoing relationship with his high school sweetheart, Twyla Thorn. She was at another school, a hundred miles off. She would come to campus two or three times a semester. Molly would be in another bedroom on those nights. I really liked Twyla. She was beautiful, and kind. She and Jeff were in love, it was clear. It was also clear that she knew about Molly. Once I asked her, obliquely, about that.

"Better one than ten," she said softly. "You know, Fran, Molly really likes you. I'm counting on you." At the time it didn't register with me.

Marty and Kicker usually lagged in the morning. Sometimes, when I was more familiar with them, I just woke them up. Almost always there would be a woman, or women, with them. Molly was one I'd see in that position at times. Mostly others, though.

I had my own apartment, even though I was just nineteen. In high school I wrote a computer program, working off some games that I tore apart. I added a new wrinkle that allowed better 3D graphics. When I got to university, I showed it to a professor. He sold it to a company, on an exclusive. I had a deal with him, where he got the first ten thousand, and I got the rest. The rest turned out to be about two hundred thousand over eighteen months. More royalties to come. Ergo, I was able to afford an apartment in the same building as the three guys. And a used Jeep. I also paid my tuition, relieving my parents of that burden.

One morning, the team was going to go on the road, and it was hectic. I was there not so much to tutor as to help organize. Jeff didn't need that, but the other two did. Molly and I provided that. The suits and ties, slacks, shoes, etc. all in the proper bag. Meal vouchers, and other sundries. This was just in October. Molly had been with them for over a year, but I only came in August. Molly and I ferried all the stuff to the bus departure spot, dropped it off. We waved bye-bye. And relaxed.

"Where to?" I asked her.

"They'll be gone four days. I guess I'll go back to the dorm."

"Why don't you come over to my place? I'll make dinner. Maybe. We can do something."

"Where's your place? I thought you were in a dorm."

"I'll show you." I drove to the apartment building. I parked.

"C'mon." We got into the elevator and went to the fifth floor, where I had my one bedroom. I unlocked the door.

"Here we are." I ushered her in.

"So, this is why you can show up on a moment's notice. You live three floors up. Man, are you some rich guy?"

"I made some money programming last year. Not rich. No family money. Just a small talent in a big world."

"Man.....what's for dinner?"

I had planned on pizza order in. But I had a pound of hamburger, some tomatoes, lettuce. I made burgers and a salad. She helped. We seemed to mesh in the kitchen. We meshed at the guys' apartment as well. She was aware of that, as we ate.

I asked her, "What's your idea of a major? If you know."

"I'm a chemist. My major will be in chemistry. How about you?"

"Math, computer programming."

"You must be really good at it. You know, to have this apartment and all."

"Yes. I am good at it."

She smiled. "No false modesty."

"Just an honest appraisal."

"See, I thought you were just a nerd. Now I see you're a well-off nerd." She laughed, and so did I.

She said, "I bet you thought that I was just a football groupie slut."

"No. Not just a football groupie slut." I smiled at her, and she laughed.

"I'm so happy," she said. "Now you know there's more to me than my nympho behavior."

"You know, I.....I mean you're really hot, and you know it. What's up with the football thing? Why not basketball, tennis?"

"I like the football guys. I like the sex. Except for Jeff, it's uncomplicated and enjoyable."

"Except for Jeff?"

"Jeff is different from the other two. You know that."

"Yep. Are you in love with him?"

"I don't know. I don't know what that means. It's not the same a chemical reaction."

"You know Jeff is in with Twyla. She knows Jeff sleeps with you, too. I'm just a teenager from a small town. No shit like that happens."

"It does. You just don't see it. No one hides here. Well, not as much."

"I'm...maybe. Can't prove a negative."

"Enough of this deep shit. What are we going to do while the players are off playing?"

"I can think of something," I said.

"Hmmmm. I don't think so. You're not my type."

"I do play tennis."

"See, not my type. Do you have any good stuff on that big TV?"

We watched an action flick. Then she fell asleep on the couch. I covered her up, and went to bed.

When I woke up, she was gone. I had her number. I called. Make sure she was okay. She said she was, thanks for the couch. I knew she was probably just downstairs.

The next few days I spent working very hard on a math problem assigned by my adviser. I eventually solved it. He never expected that. I mailed the solution to myself, with a post mark. Never can tell who might do what. The guy, Professor James Mills, proposed to write up the solution, send it for publication. I agreed. I told him he could have his name second, mine first. He initially balked. But I told hm about the registered letter. We did it my way.

Sunday afternoon the guys were landing, and Jeff had a difficult quiz to prep for, so I was at the apartment. So was Molly, and surprise, Twyla. The three arrived together, toting cases. The team had had a narrow escape, winning on the last set of downs. Kicker had come through. He was ebullient when he arrived.

Marty walked in first, went straight to his room. Jeff came in, saw Molly and gave her a hug. But he was alert when she shied away. There was Twyla. They hugged, and started off to his room. Kicker was yelling in the hall. Jumping around. He came in, saw Twyla and Molly. He whisked Molly off into his room. It was a quick move on his part. But I knew that Twyla wasn't fooled. Really, they should all have just discussed the matter, instead of a flimsy pretense. Not my business, though.

Marty came out of his room to meet a woman -- Sue Queen, aka SusieQ. They left for an early dinner. After about forty minutes, Molly and Kicker emerged, looking happy.

"Welcome back, Kicker. Great game."

"Thanks. I'm headed to the Summer House. Want to bask in glory. I'll be back later, maybe." He walked on out. Molly didn't look put out. She smiled at me.

"Maybe we can go upstairs, if that's okay?"

"Sure." It was about 6:30 and I ordered Chinese delivered. We ate, talking about the game.

"Kicker sure reacted fast to Twyla's being there," she said. She smiled.

"He got a bonus," I muttered.

"Yes. He did. Me, too, I suppose. He is good in bed, maybe a little self-involved."

When she said this, I realized that she was treating me like I was one of her confidant girl buddies. Okay, so I decided to go along with that.

"How about Marty? He sure gets enough practice. Him and Kicker both, I'm sure."

"Marty just likes to fuck. White girls. He's not mean, and he does have a LOT of practice. Before I got into this last year, I thought football guys were supposed to be celibate before games. Now I know they need to relax, before, and celebrate after. I like both of those modes."

"Molly, some time you need to branch out to more genteel sports, like tennis." I wiggled my eyebrows at her with fake suggestivity.

She laughed, with me, "I could be the ball girl, eh?"

"Just think, all that effort, grunting and swishing, turning on a dime. Has to get those ball girls hot. Maybe I should try out for the team."

"Don't you have a girl friend? You're good looking, rich, and smart. Who comes over here when I'm not around?"

"No one, really. I do sometimes get lucky. But basically I'm shy."

"Not gay? I wondered, you know, with you hanging around the apartment."

"Definitely not gay. That whole scene at the apartment is so very interesting, though. Especially you."

"Li'l ole me? I'm just a football groupie slut who got lucky."

"And who gets straight A's in science classes, including physics."

"How can you know that? You.....oh. You're a hacker, too."

"Just sometimes. I was really curious about you....Li'l ole you. You seem to be a bundle of contradictions. As much time as you spend at the apartment, to get the grades you do, you have to be some kind of genius. I looked because I thought you might be flunking out, and I could help. But, no! You've never had a grade below an A."

She actually blushed. "I guess you know my secret. Now that I think about it, you're the only one who knows all that about me. Except maybe Jeff. He knows I'm smart. I helped him once with his physics course. He asked. He didn't seem surprised when I could do it."

"Are you going to try to take him away from Twyla?"

"No, I don't think I could, anyway. They're made for each other. They're both gonna be famous. With him, me being a white girl is a drawback, too."

"Oh. I think you may be wrong about all that. I hope you don't get hurt."

"I mean, Jeff knows that I fuck the other guys. He never says anything. If he, you know, really cared, he'd say something. If he asked, I'd stop. He doesn't."

'Changing the subject a little, the other day I got interested in that problem you were assigned by Thomas. The one with linear functions."

"You SOB. There's no way to hide stuff from you, is there?"

"No. Well, not stuff that gets recorded. Why did you stop at function six?"

She explained. I understood, in a foggy way. She really was supersmart. I knew full well right then that I was in love with her. I think she did, too. But I just didn't see the use of saying that.

The season went on. The pattern of life at the apartment stayed the same, except I started hanging out more there. I was accepted. And I got to see a lot of good-looking women. One evening I was sitting on the couch when Molly came in looking for something. I thought no one else was there. She was wearing just a shift dress, flip flops. It was December, but she looked like summer. I said so.

"What? I look like summer. You haven't been here long, I just left to get mail. Why are you here?"

"I came to see you. I'm lonely, bored and horny, if you must know. Maybe I should give you a birthday present."

"It's not my birthday."

"When is it?"

"April Fool's Day. Makes for a few jokes."

"I know. Mine is the same day."

"You're kidding! I never met anyone else with that day."

She jumped on the couch, straddled my reclining form and gave me the hottest kiss I ever had. I was stunned. But I knew what to do. I grabbed her by the ass and kissed back.

"Ahem..." A voice, female voice, said. "Looks hot!" It was SusieQ. Molly turned to look at her. As it happens, when Molly jumped me, my cock was hanging down the leg of my gym shorts. It was rock hard now, and it seemed that SusieQ could get a glimpse.

Molly jumped off. She looked at my erection, barely hidden, if hidden at all.

Molly turned to SusieQ, "My, that looks like a lot more than I might have guessed. What should we do, SusieQ?"

"Let's show him how to use it. No one's in Kicker's room. He's gone for the night." She grabbed my cock and pulled me up by it, laughing.

Molly was staring. "Good idea." SusieQ led me into Kicker's room by my dick, and Molly followed.

Molly was in a lather, I could tell. "Who goes first? Me. He's really mine first." She pulled off her dress, dropped her panties and straddled me. SusieQ was already naked. She was stroking my dick. Then she straddled my face, and sat. I felt Molly lower herself onto me. She bucked up and down, and she came right away. If I had time to consider it, I would have been amazed. I was licking SusieQ. She came on my face. Molly's hands wrapped around her and began fondling her tits. SusieQ moaned and came all over my face again. Molly was still pumping, faster and faster. I started to come. Couldn't hold on any longer. I felt her respond as well. It was amazing.

After, we all three collapsed. I was underneath Molly, beside SusieQ.

I said, "What brought that on?"

SusieQ said, "Your big dick, dummy. Who knew? A big hard cock will always cause Molly and me to react. We just didn't know you had one until now. You're in for it. You may not survive. You're not as big and strong as the football guys." She giggled, but I wondered how honest she was being.

"I can hold my own. Don't hold back on my account."

Molly said, "That's why I like you, you always say smart things. Can you rise to the occasion?" She stroked me. SusieQ shuffled down and put my cock into her mouth. I rose. SusieQ flopped onto her back and pulled me between her legs. I plunged into her, fucked her hard. She was strong, and she pushed back hard.

"Harder, harder....," she panted. I gave it to her as hard and long as I could, and she had several orgasms, one after the other, until I could hold out no more, and pumped her full of what I had left. I collapsed next to her.

Molly was staring at me. She licked her lips. It was like she was in a trance. She moved to me and sucked my flaccid cock, licking it clean. It wasn't the first time I had had that happen to me (another story about an older woman who took me under her wing when I was eighteen). Molly just kept on licking, then started sucking hard. I had my hands in her hair. I came, again.