The young Black guy danced and rubbed himself against me to the point I finally had to tell him I needed to take a break. As I walked into the kitchen...to get another drink I felt my panties had become wet.I stood there in the dark kitchen, facing the counter by the sink, getting myself back together when someone came up behind me putting his arms around me cupping his hands over my breasts, nuzzling through my hair. His mouth was kissing and biting my neck. Oh god please don't, I'm really not.". John told them the stories abouthow bad he was, how poor the field was, how bad the bathrooms were.Neither Richard nor Will said a word, just listening to every word ofthe story.John loved telling one story in particular, "One year the field wasflooded during the entire month of October. During a freak snowstorm,the field turned to a sheet of slush making you both wet and cold.Another year it froze solid so it was like playing on concrete. Thatsame year it was nothing but mud. Some other fields. More

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