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By the beginning of February Jen was just starting to contemplate how she could get Ruthie to talk less without hurting her feelings too badly. A nice option would be to see if there was any way she could get her to fill up some spare time in the afternoons and have her out of the room.It turned out there was a possible solution. Jen was working as an assistant for one of the art department instructors and knew that he was looking for a student to pose for two of his classes: both of them. Sam happily took a bucket of water and a floorcloth, kneeled down and started scrubbing. I wasn’t sure whether she did it on purpose, but her underwear was clearly visible over the waist of her jeans – in fact, my eyes could precisely follow the contours of her thong until it vanished between her buttocks. I could swear she slowly wiggled her butt at me, too.She stood up and started cleaning the bar. As I helped out a few regulars with their last refills, I couldn’t help but notice Sam was. I kept stroking Phil and instead of using my right hand to reach down and stop Sam I used it to pick up my fresh drink.The first pull on the drink covered the gasp as one of Sam's fingers entered me. My mind and my body were not functioning together. The mind was busy trying to find a way to get out of the mess I'd gotten myself into, but my body was telling the mind to shut the fuck up. Two weeks without and being horny as hell the last three days along with the anticipation of what was. Then I wondered about the supposed other four players he'd implied he'd fucked. I went through each player on the team and couldn't come up with one, never mind four, that could possibly be gay. Was the faggot blackmailing some others too? I was going to kill this queer! I called Damon, wanting to question him about yesterday's warning. Again no answer. A few minutes later, as I watched sports news about tomorrow's NFL games, I decided to drive over to Damon's. He was notorious for losing his.
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