Oh that wonderful smell of male sweat, fresh teen jock smell. I turned it inside out, and tasted the inner pouch, sweat, piss, and cum? Maybe, but pro...ably just wishful thinking. I rubbed my stiffening cock, I thought about jacking off real quick, sniffed and tasted the jock again, and thought better of it. I had to get this stuff counted, and if I stopped and jacked off when I felt like it, I'd never get done. Ok back to locker 2, pads, jerseys', cup, jock, helmet, cleats, all there. Locker. "Can I guess?" You couldn't come close in a year," Megan said, and she was pretty sure she meant it."What do I get if I get it right the first time?" He chuckled."What do you want if that happens?" I want to get to know DD ... a whole lot better. I know you can fix that for me."DD did something the girls had never seen her do ... she blushed. Not a cute pinkie blush ... a Holy Shit blush ... and her nipples popped out even farther ... the barbells stuck out like thumbs. Her shorts got instantly. One morning, a new patient came in. My receptionist ushered in a couple and introduced them; I'll call them Mindy and Alex, not their real names. I had them sit down and asked a few inconsequential questions, just to let them relax. Most people are very nervous when they first talk to a counselor. Then I posed the question, "And why did you come to see me?"Mindy studied me for a while before answering, "I need to talk to somebody about something. Something very private. Something that nobody. It seems that rain lends itself to such solemn occasions. The sound of the rain turns into a lament for the pain of the living, and the soaking rain provides a glimpse of the clammy chill of the grave.Standing over the freshly dug grave, Michael Dane had no words, no thoughts, only feelings.Feelings of rage. Feelings of pain. Feelings of love-- and an overwhelming thirst for revenge.For thirty-eight years Michael's life had been-- interesting. From the day he was born, Michael had led a unique.