Ty and Cinda--A Tale of Forbidden Love - 5 - Sex Stories

Ty and Cinda--A Tale of Forbidden Love - 5

... reciprocated in kind. Her first taste of Christmas extravagance occurred when I had mailed gifts to her last year; I sent her six presents. I wanted her to know that I hadn’t forgotten and that she was always in my thoughts. Cinda had phoned her family as soon as we checked into the Maple Tree Inn and I had encouraged her to call several times a week since. We shopped for Momma and Monroe after church on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. We also shopped for each other and for Fred—yes, even our dog would celebrate. We had a wonderful time buying and decorating our tree even though Fred knocked it over twice and his wagging tail sent several ornaments flying into the next room. I couldn’t even scold him—how could I tell him not to wag his tail? We opened our gifts early Christmas morning, phoned Momma and Monroe, then drove to see my parents after lunch. We were home early so I could prepare for our 1:00 p.m. game in the tournament the following day. We knew this was just another tune-up. The real battle would occur the next evening when we challenged St. Ann’s for the championship. Our rivalry was at a fever pitch after beating them twice in their own tournament the past two years. As expected, the first game was a joke. I played the first half while we built a 48-17 lead then rested on the bench while our subs played them even the rest of the way. Dad dropped Cinda back at the high school where she met me once our bus had arrived. We went to the farm for dinner, just as we had ...

... on Christmas day. St. Ann’s gym was packed the following night for the championship game. Kenny did a fantastic job neutralizing their big man, outscoring him twelve to six and beating him on the boards, too. They had no idea how to stop me. I scored 25 in the first half while getting two of their starters into foul trouble. We were almost a minute into the third quarter when I passed to our other guard before posting up on the foul line while Kenny posted low. I had just received a return pass and pivoted to the right, holding the ball high. The next thing I knew I was on the floor, blood pouring from my nose as I saw stars. Our team doctor wanted me out of the game. “Fuck that,” I told him. “Stuff my nose with cotton and tape it up so I don’t hurt it and send me back in. Just do it, okay?” He looked at our coach who shrugged his shoulders. “Coach, there is no way I’m coming out of this game. Fix me up so I can go back in.” I managed to get to the foul line in time to take the shots. Cleaning the floor of my blood had taken almost fifteen minutes. That’s when I learned that a flagrant foul had been called—two shots and we’d have the ball again. I made both then took the pass in bounds about thirty feet from the basket. Two dribbles later I sank a long three-pointer. I did my best to avoid contact and--to be honest--the defenders seemed to play me loosely. I scored another 14 points and fed for another 10 as we built a twenty point lead by the midpoint of the fourth quarter. ...