He knew that Joan and the other woman would be rising early to get the biscuits ready along with the magic potion of fresh brewed coffee to start the day off just right. What with the men all primed up with some female companionship and with those vittles in their ravenous bellies, the next day might be the end for Geronimo and his band of renegade reservation jumpers. Sam planned to make them carrion for the crows and the vultures because they had no intent of taking the time to bury them. It. "You need some right now, huh? A little coke maybe?" Oh, God yeah," I breathed. "I'm dying!" I might have some," he shrugged. "But..." Amy?" Stacy walked into the room, damp with a towel around her like she'd just gotten out of the shower. "What are you doing here?" Just might?" I frowned at Gary, ignoring Stacy for the moment. "Mom said you did." Amy ... Gary? What's going on?" She stood there drying her hair slowly, looking confused."Hi Stacy." I smiled at her, not removing my hand at all as. They’re ranked #4 and were playing a team they should beat easily but weren‘t doing well in the game. Five minutes into the game it was very close. I was wearing sleep shorts and a t-shirt. You sat across my lap with your arm around my shoulders. You asked how the game was going. I filled you in on the situation. You were watching the game with me. I have to say this was REALLY hot. I know you could feel the hardening in the front of my shorts. I looked up and could see you smile. You. Since that faithful day when she swallowed my dog, things between us had been weird. And I don’t mean weird like weird; I mean weird like a total psychotic junkyard dog. She would talk to me, but not touch me. She would stare right at me, talk about studying some more, flirting, suggesting constantly that we should see each other again, but whenever I called she would breath heavily into the phone and hang up. What the fuck, right? Or She would touch me, but not talk to me. She’d run her.
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