1. Ty and Cinda--A Tale of Forbidden Love - 4


    Date: 11/2/2014, Categories: Fiction, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Romance, Teen Male/Teen Female, Author: senorlongo, Rating: 91.7, Source: sexstories.com

    pool and, finally, the gym incredible. “I can’t believe this is so big, Ty. How many people can fit in these stands?” “Almost 5,000--more than the entire population of the town--but remember that this is Indiana where basketball is king. These stands are filled for every home game.” She looked around for a while then ran to the far wall where my photo was hung. “That’s you, Ty!” “Yeah, but it’s no big deal. Anyone who makes All-State gets their photo up there. I’d be happier if we’d actually won the state championship.” We wandered around for another fifteen minutes before leaving for our final two errands of the day, driving to the bank where I made Cinda co-signatory on the account and provided her with a debit/ATM card. We finished by picking up a Driver’s Manual at the Bureau of Motor Vehicles then phoned Mom on the way back to the Maple Tree Inn to let her know that we’d rented a house. She responded by inviting us for dinner. “I’ve already made arrangements to play ball at seven, Mom.” “So you’ll eat and run…just like every other time. Come early and I’ll give the two of you a cooking lesson. We’re having pot roast.” That cinched it—I loved pot roast. We returned to pick up my gym clothes, sneakers, and ball then drove straight to my parents’ home, arriving just before four. We watched and learned, although it would be months before we could replicate my mother’s efforts. She shooed me out to the garden to pick some tomatoes and green peppers for the salad. This I ...
    could handle—I’d done it for years. Planting and maintaining the garden had been my responsibility since I was eight. We had another excellent meal and I cut up the leftover fat and scraps to add to Fred’s dry dog food. We left around 6:45 for the drive to the school. Cinda was seated in the bleachers when I walked into the locker room to change. I was on the gym floor with Kenny, shooting and warming up, when I heard a voice behind me. “Hey, man—catch the spade.” I dropped the ball and turned around in a second, seething as I saw Stewart, a June graduate who had more mouth than sense about fifteen feet away. I had taken three steps in his direction when Kenny ran between us and wrapped his arms around my body. “Don’t, Ty…he’s not worth it.” Then turning toward Stewart he said, “Listen, Stewart…we know you’re an asshole; you don’t have to prove it by opening your mouth. Not only is the woman you insulted about a hundred times better than you, she is also Ty’s wife.” Stewart was justifiably terrified. I would never have mentioned a word about my run-in with the four muggers, but Kenny blabbed about it as soon as we stepped onto the school bus that Monday morning. By the end of school everyone believed that I had single-handedly taken down sixteen terrorists with machine guns. It was weeks before I was able to set the record straight. Stewart approached tentatively, Kenny still between us. “Uh…I’m sorry, Ty.” “You didn’t insult me. You insulted my wife. Apologize to her.” Stewart ...
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