The one that got away

I know some of you like to fish. I am also sure each one of you sportsmen have a tale about the “one that got away”. Maybe it's a 33 point buck, or a 27 pound bass or a turkey the size of a VW Bug. Whatever the case, I'm sure you have that story. Me? I like to hunt chicks. That is my pastime, my recreation. Like each one of you, I, too, have a yarn about the one that got away.

Her name is Nicole. She went to a private school during her high school years, but everyone knew about her because of her beauty and extraordinary body. There were rumors that she was a clairvoyant in the bedroom - like some kind of sex witch. Because of this, most guys called her "Samantha". I never actually met anyone that had been with her. There were rumors of a guy that had been with her, Brandon Logan, and after she discarded him he became so obsessed with her that he stayed in his room masturbating to the thought of her, ripped his pubic hair out with duct tape and lived off Mountain Dew and peanut butter. Eventually, his parents checked him into an eating disorder clinic and he was never heard from again, or so said the rumor. Just when I got up the nerve to ask her out, her parents divorced, she moved to Virginia with her mom and she was gone from my life.

Tuesday, March 11 - I was in KB Toys doing some shopping and I ran into Nicole. She was with her son and as luck would have it, she remembered me and started a conversation. Man, she still looks like a Victoria’s Secret model and I could not take my eyes off of her tits. She was wearing a really tight t-shirt and I guess she lost her bra somewhere because she wasn’t wearing it at the time. I bought her son a cheesecake brownie from Great American Cookie and Nicole and I sat in the food court talking about our lives. Turns out, Nicole got a divorce a couple of years ago and moved back to Alabama so her father could help her out. Her mom passed away a few years ago and she didn’t have any family after her divorce. She is a massage therapist at a local spa and teaches a Taebo class at a gym in the area. We talked until her son grew bored with sitting there and quickly became a pain in the ass. Nicole gave me directions to her house and told me to come over on Thursday.

Thursday, March 13 – Nicole and I had a nice meal and continued the conversation we started in the mall. Her son, Gordon, who, btw, is 10, really took a liking to me. I whipped his ass in every video game he owns and then I destroyed him in some living room football. He told me about his trampoline and how he can do a front flip. Big deal I thought and then I two-upped him when I told him I could do a one-and-a-half front flip and a back flip on a trampoline. He begged me to go out and show him, but Nicole informed him it was his bed time and that maybe we could do that tomorrow. After Nicole put Gordon to bed the talking Nicole and I were doing turned into kissing and soon enough we were in her bedroom doing a lot of heavy petting. Her tits are what John Keats was talking about in his poem “A Thing Of Beauty”. They are perfect in size - about the size of Demi Moore’s in “Striptease” - and feel. While her ass looked great in a pair of pants, it looked even better in a thong. She has a “JJ” ass. You know the type of ass that makes JJ scream Dy-no-mite! Just as I was about to put a finger into pumpkin blossom, she broke from our kiss and said she would be right back.

She went into the bathroom and started the shower. I thought she was in there taking a shower, but soon she was back in the bed with me and the shower was still running. I didn’t know what she was doing, but by this time I didn’t care. A few minutes later, she got up, took me by the hand and led me to the bathroom. Cool. We are going to shower together I thought. I was wrong. The bathroom was steamy; almost like a steam room. Her shower is separate from her bathtub and after she got naked, she stepped into the empty tub, bent over and told me she “needed it”. I climbed in, got behind her and started railing on her. My Dirk Diggler style hammering coupled with the steam from the shower had us sweating like Jeremiah Wright at a Klan rally. It felt like we were two Howler Monkey’s going at it in some far off rain forest. Not just from the sweat, but also from the howling that Nicole was doing. I was in a zone; like Michael Jordan was when he lit up the Trail Blazers or David Copperfield when he walked through the Great Wall of China. Every move I made was perfection, and Nicole let me know it with her moans and slut talk. I pumped her for what seemed like hours. Once we had drained each other, we jumped in the shower and cleaned up. I ended up going home around 2 in the morning.

Friday, March 14 - I went over to Nicole’s house early to show Gordon just how talented I was on his trampoline. Now, please keep in mind that I have not been on a trampoline in years. If I had to guess I would say at least 16 years, but when I was in my prime, I was the Raymond Babbit of Sun Valley (my parent’s neighborhood) when it came to the trampoline. I could do front flips, back flips, pretty much any kind of flip there was, but, again, that was at least 16 years ago.

Over the years, trampolines have changed quite a bit. I remember my trampoline as being large. It was so big that we used to play Royal Rumble on it. It was nothing for us to land on the metal frame and bloody our nose or crack our head open. I remember when Skitch Bryant knocked half of his front tooth out during a heated game of “Smear the Queer”. Gordon’s trampoline is small. It has padding covering the springs and as if that wasn’t enough, he has one of those big safety screens around it to keep him from falling off. I informed him that he was jumping on a girl’s trampoline and that I didn’t think I could show him all my tricks on such a girly piece of equipment. In reality, I was nervous over the fact that I had built myself up and didn’t know if I could follow through.

Of course, being the man that I am, I manned up and climbed on. Do the front flip Gordon shouted. I did and nailed it. My confidence grew. Do it again! he demanded, and again I nailed it. It was as if I had never left the trampoline. Do the back flip Gordon shouted. This one took a minute, but I finally nailed it. I was 13 again and loving it. Pretty soon a small crowd of neighborhood kids started to gather around the trampoline to watch my Bart Conner like display and then I heard it – He can even do a one-and-a-half! Gordon said to some of the watchers. No one can do the one-and-a-half said one little kid who looked a lot like Sunshine Sammy. Yes he can said Gordon. Stump, do the one-and-a-half.

Maybe it was over-confidence. Maybe it was the three beers and two margaritas I drank before starting. Maybe it was because I wanted to impress Nicole who was watching from her back deck. I don’t know what exactly it was, but something inside me told me I could do it…………..

I remember feeling out of control in mid-flip. I knew something was wrong. The voice in my head screamed for me to cover my face. The last thing I can remember is crashing through the protective netting that surrounds the trampoline. I don’t remember my ribcage landing on the metal frame. I don’t remember my feet touching the back of my head just before I fell onto the ground. The only thing I do remember is coming to, tasting blood in the back of my throat and feeling a blinding pain in my side. Several kids were asking me if I was alright. I couldn’t talk. The only thing I could do was fight for air. I knew I was dying, and, to be honest, I looked forward to death because then I wouldn’t feel all the pain that was racing through my body. I closed my eyes and said my goodbyes.

The next time I came to I was an ambulance. The EMS worker was telling me I was going to be alright. I could no longer feel the pain; I was going to live.

Saturday, March 15 – I woke up in a hospital room. My mother was there. Nicole was there. They told me I broke 5 ribs, punctured my right lung, broke my collar bone, dislocated my right shoulder and fractured my right eye socket.

They released me on Sunday. I have been on a lot of pain medication and, as of yesterday, I have lost 19 pounds, but I am alive. To kill time, I have been watching basketball, lots of movies, and listening to Tom Petty. Nicole has come over once since I have been home. A friend of mine said he saw her at The Fish Market with some guy. I'm sure she is screwing him and it looks as though she has gotten away.....again