Suddenly, he took advantage of an opening I hadn’t seen. He kicked the ball straight across the field to a teammate.“Good shot!” I called. I’m...not one of those soccer parents who think they can coach. I do, however, cheer. Sometimes I even cheer his teammates.“It was a pass,” said Gwen, “not a shot.” I ignored her.The teammate, Rick, had a clear shot -- Gwen would have said a clear pass -- at the goal. He took it, and the opposition goalie was just a second too late.“Goal!” I cheered. Gwen was. . pounded down from speakers above, from around them. Seconds passed with their breathing and heartbeats seeming to join. She hung gasping from the straps as he finally eased himself out of her exhausted, soaking vagina. She looked up. Her feet on the cold tile could barely keep from slipping away, her legs buckling. In the mirror, his eyes were dazed, his face flushed. The herbal scent of the candles suffused her with the sweet memory of the burning drops on her breasts, stomach and thighs.. More

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