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When Steve and Gwen walked past the school trophy case, they had to stop and stare in surprise. The game ball with Gwen's name printed on it perched on a small pedestal. Hanging on the back wall of the case was Steve's football jersey with the number 12 barely discernible because of the blood that had soaked through it. Next to the jersey was a placard that simply stated "Spartan Blood".Steve arrived at the Andersons' home shortly after noon on Thanksgiving Day. As he guided his uncle up the driveway, he counted the cars in the drive. "There's going to be quite a few people here today, Uncle Joe. Don't let it bother you. They're all friends and some of the best people I've ever met. Mrs. Anderson is a fantastic cook. You'll have a great time." I hope you're right," replied Steve's uncle. "I don't like crowds very much. You know that. If that sweet talking girl of yours hadn't made such a big deal of it, I'd have stay home. I go out once to see my nephew after he wins the state. Having watched so much porn, I tried to take it in stride, but it was still a little unsettling. On a couch to our left, a pair of standard porn star looking blondes in lingerie were moaning into each other's pussies. On a grandfather chair to the right, a matronly woman with gray hair rode her ass up and down, her back to the unseen man sitting below her, while the 'D' man of her DP fucked her pussy from the front. She looked like my third grade schoolteacher. I so wanted to lead Joel over and stick his cock in her mouth, but I found it hard to think of doing anything, and we weren't moving yet.Joel's eyes were so wide I thought he might crack his eyebrows. He was frozen in place, apparently practicing the statue impression that he assumed in every large crowd. I felt better that he looked no more stricken than usual, given that this crowd was fucking and sucking. I took his hand and led the way, trying not to stare. Like Hansel and Gretel, we huddled together, clutching each other.
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