Based on "The Cremation of Sam McGee" by Robert W. Service From far and from wide, there are tales of...pride For every school in the land. Of the basketball team or the homecoming queen Of the cheerleaders or marching band. Each school has a story of scholastic glory; But one tale stands out as most odd. They speak of it still in the town of Midville, Of what happened to their football squad.When Coach Smith came to. Part of me didn’t like it at all. Part of me knew that the twins were now eating better because of those pictures and his imaginings. Of course, many women had their private parts photographed in explicit ways so people they did not know could stare at them and do disgusting things as they looked. I had looked. But it was a problem I never expected to have.I did not want to talk about pictures any more.We would spend five more weeks in Thailand, two seminar weeks alternated with the three. My legs, splayed wide, almost ached as I pulled them together. I pushed my torso up, pulling my feet under me. As I stood, Dad wrapped his strong arms around me. Turning me, he pulled me close to his body, wrapping his strapping arms totally around me, a protective shield from the outside world. We rocked together. I listened to his heart beating in his chest. Dad scooped me in his arms, and carried me upstairs to his room. Placing me gently on his bed, he laid beside me, spooned, his arms. Frustrating because when Janeane Garofalo asks Ben Chaplin, "O., where's your hand?" I was wondering the same thing? But in the movie, Janeane and Ben are hidden beneath all kinds of blankets and sheets. Almost without thinking, slipped my own hand down the front of my panties, closed my eyes and let my fingers glide between slippery wet lips. Maybe it was because the scene on the TV had ended. Or maybe I actually sensed someone watching. But when I opened my eyes and shifted my gaze from the.Read More
