I’d known Amy for a couple of years and we’d grown close but never gone out. She had dated a friend of mine and my first real girlfriend had also ...een a classmate of Amy’s. But now we were both young and single - hell, we were only kids.Tonight she looked magnificent, her hair pulled back and an amateur attempt at makeup paired perfectly with her with her blue and white flared dress - all a teenage boy could ever want. I felt inadequate but well dressed in a grey suit, tie and my favourite. I later found out all my family coming to the game were outfitted this way and they were taking up a lot of bleacher space too.When I got out of the truck I was given a small cooler filled with ice and plastic bags filled pealed orange slices enough I so could enjoy then, and not run out. After folks started showing up with their hand out, I let them know I was not trying to feed them, and they needed to bring their own supply next week, after 3 slices apiece to my teammates had put a big dent. Her thighs slapped against my head and damn near deafened me as she came yet again.“Hooooooly fuck,” she squealed, while pushing my face away from her crotch. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuuuck. Holy … I need a breather,” she said through gasps. “Jesus Christ, we fuck so good.”***Hannah and I met about two years ago. She was 20, a summer intern at my office and I was, well, freshly divorced and a little gunshy of real relationships. I swear I didn’t see anything except for a young, pretty girl who was a. Then took my hand in hers as she dried her eyes.“Look at you. My baby boy is all grown up.” She said smiling at me, as she continued to look at me. Then she looked over at Katherine. “And, who is this lovely lady?”“This is my girlfriend, Katherine.” I told her, reaching out, and taking Katherine's hand, and pulling her next to me.“You're beautiful, you both are.” My mother smiled. “You make a lovely couple.”“Thank you, Ma'am.” Katherine smiled.“Oh, and you're British!” My mother stated in.