I looked at the dozen or so empty stalls. The floors were swept but the place smelled of old occupants, stale piss and dusty straw.“They’re out,�... he lied. Straight faced, too.“Well ... I’ll be moving along, then.” I said. “The next town might be more hospitable ... and need horses such as these ... with tack.”“Hold on there, youngster,” the liveryman said. “I might maybe could.”“I wouldn’t want to put you out,” I said, straight faced as I lied right back at him.Of course I wanted to put him out. My hot best friend was sitting right in front of me with her hand under her shirt about to have phone sex with the biggest manwhore of our high school. Something about that turned me on more than anything.“Okay, babe,” She put the phone back to her ear. “I’m ready.”She leaned back on the bed and put the phone on speaker so I could hear what was being said. Justin’s voice sounded rough and ragged, I could tell he was horny and about to jack off, if he wasn’t doing so already. “Imagine me pushing. Soon, I was slamming into her full bore, and yanking on her hair vigorously. My other hand no longer held her hip gently but instead slapped her bare ass over and over, turning her deliciously alabaster skin bright red. It didn't take long before Cindy seized up. I gasped as her sphincter squeezed me like a vice grip, spasming periodically. She collapsed forward, all but lying atop the table and moaning indistinctly. I gave her glorious ass another light tap, waited for her ring of muscle to. Neither interception wavered Hudson's confidence as he was throwing into traffic where if it were an actual game he might have been more prudent.Back in the locker room after the long two-a-day, as players showered and cajoled each other, 3 tired soldiers sat at their lockers in undershirts and under pads, exhausted. Marv Hudson, Mark Freeman and Whiskey Daniels, the starting center, were probably in more plays this day than each would see in two games. Daniels had insisted on working with both.