"Get the fuck out of here Hunter, before we make you eat your own jockstrap." John barked. Jeff was trying to get around Mark, who kept shoving him back like the blocker he was.

"Not in here man, get him later. You fight in here, Coach will have to suspend you for a game." Phil hissed. Hunter sauntered away, rounding the corner of the lockers.

"What's with that little asshole?" He flared.

"I don't know. He's Pissed off at something."

"He's gonna be pissed off with a broken jaw the next time he opens his lip to me."

Allyson slid the panties down her legs and then kicked them off. She stood before the mirror naked, evaluating her figure. Not bad, she thought. It hardly looked like the body of a woman with two teenage kids.

She turned sideways to see herself in profile. Her breasts stuck out straight and proud on her chest, not sagging at all. She stood straight, pushing her chest out and running her hand down her chest and over her flat belly.

No, not bad at all. Almost unconsciously, her hand strayed lower, sliding down across her abdomen, and into the thin line of pubic hair at her crotch. God, it had been so long since she'd had a man, she sighed.

It wasn't like she didn't have offers aplenty. She had come to fear her own weakness around men though, to fear the way she let them dominate her life completely. She hadn't accepted many dates in the last few years, afraid of being used, and thrown aside again, as she'd been several times since Max's death.

Her hand slid lower, sliding between her legs and under her pubic mound. She cupped the soft, pliable material, pressing her fingers upward, and experiencing the sudden warm burst of sexual heat that swept through her as she did.

That was part of it, she knew. When it came to sex, she was easily used. She gave in to whatever men wanted, just to experience that hot, glowing burst of sensations from between her legs. Some of the things she'd allowed them to do could still make her blush when she thought about them.