A Moment of Bliss
Kendra Adams stared out the front windshield of her rental car, the sun blazing high, baking the
featureless country side before her. The road lay ahead, a single strip of
asphalt stretching to that billiard table like horizon. On either side of the
road, deep green fields of corn stalks stretched tall; corn silk gently
fluttering in the breeze, reaching for those golden rays that nourished its
slender length.
The sun pierced the windshield, making the rental cars
interior temperature soar, getting Kendra to crank the A/C knob to maximum. It
was hot, ‘too hot for this time of year’ Kendra thought.
“Oh this kid
better be good...getting me to drive out to east nose bleed to check out the
game of some ‘Corn Fed’ farm boy.” Kendra mumbles, wiping the sweaty strands of
curly auburn hair from her forehead. Kendra was the sole recruiter for a small,
minute even, Division 1 college in northern Maine. For some reason, an alumnus-
a very wealthy alumnus- decided the school needed a competitive mens basketball
program. To say Kendra was having no luck was an understatement.
She’d
scoured every junior college and midnight basketball league for an eligible
player. She’d rounded out the squad with some less than superb b-ball talent.
And in the last of her recruiting swing, she’d driven to small town in the corn
belt to see a 19 year old Ju-Co drop out knick named “Corn Fed” Mark Bliss .
Mark was a 6’ 5 “ forward, said to be blessed with the touch of “Pistol Pete”
and the agility of a guy half his size.
Kendra was facing a doubled tough
road for being the recruiter for a school that no one heard of and the fact she
was a woman. An unfair stereotype. Her basketball expertise bloomed when she
married a well known national basketball writer, nearly 30 years her senior. As
time went on she got to love the game, know the game better than many others, so
much so she was asked to replace her husband when he went into retirement
several years ago. She declined, wanting to spend more time with her husband.
But two years ago, at age 35 she was lured to the Maine school to help scout the
women’s basketball team. She did such a remarkable job, assembling the men’s
squad fell to her responsibility. Now she was away months at a time, leaving her
husband at home.
As the corn went by her windows in a never ending
emerald blur it just as suddenly stopped. The corn gave way to a vast open space
centered on a large farm house and barn. Thrown in, almost like something out of
a postcard, the obligatory wind mill. She also caught the glint of numerous
panes of glass, cars assembled in a circle around the side of the
home.
“Oh now what! Don’t tell me I have to compete with other recruiters
for the ‘best kept secret’.” Kendra said turning off the asphalt onto the dirt
road that wound towards the farm house.However as she drove closer, she could
tell these weren’t rental cars like hers. No these were pick up trucks and jeeps
old enough to have a generation of rust peppering the fender wells and bumpers.
Stopping the car, Kendra could see most of the pick-ups had ‘lever actions, bolt
actions and pump actions’ criss crossing the back windows.
“I am in a
different world.” She thought, closing the sedans door witha dull thud. Grabbing
her briefcase with one hand, the other went about smoothing the wrinkles out of
her mini-skirt. Kendra was a woman of simple beauty. Her auburn shoulder length
hair got kinked up in the humid air. She spent hours on hotel tread mills and
weight rooms keeping shape. At 35 she knew mother nature had a stop watch
running on her body. “Holding it together” now required more sweat to keep
going. Her waist was trim but still she retained that bit of padding in the
places that only she seemed to notice and that drover her mad. Kendra, in all,
was the type of woman that looked beautiful without make-up and turned stunner
with a simple application of eye liner and lipstick. Kendra also wriggled,
walking in high heels over the gravel and cow patty strewn yard, to adjust her
bra that uncomfortably tugged down on her shoulders under the weight of her
breasts. Kendra sometimes lamented over a possible breast reduction, an idea
suggested by her mom who was also ‘big bosomed’ and rebuffed by her particularly
"breast fixated" husband. Mature, Kendra knew that this was a mans world and she
had to find a way to play the game without compromising who she was deep inside.
Kendra had a complex spirit with dreams and fantasies, many unrealized. One day
she hoped to find the time to play them out. But for now, work dominated her
life.
The odd, almost metallic clang, of the bouncing basketball acted as
an audible beacon to Kendra, drawing her towards the barn. Slipping inside
Kendra found not stalls for live stock and bails of hay, but instead a full
sized basketball court. A loose crowd of mostly young women, and few young men,
clustered around the court. Chants and “ooh’s” rose up. Kendra found a spot to
survey the play on the court. Taking note that every girl seemed to be tall,
slender and blonde. Almost cookie cutter fashion.
Standing at the free
throw line was a towering, sandy haird young man. His chiseled jaw jutted out,
eyes narrowed in a a piercing gaze locked on the netted rim. The ball slipped
from his fingers, arching silently through the air and with a gentle swish the
silence was broken by cheers. Backpeddling as fast as some ran forward. The game
continued for another ten minutes with Mark running circles, and then some,
around the competition. His legs long bundles of muscles and sinew, almost a
blur as he ran and swirled. Arms lean and defined, Kendra stood stock still in
absolute amazement.
A petite girl beside Kendra cooed to a friend, “
Isn’t he something.”
Kendra silently nodded to the question not posed to
her. When a whistle blew the game broke up and the crowd of girls rushed onto
the court surrounding Mark. Scattered around the perimeter of the court, stoop
shouldered, panting, gasping for breath was the opponents. Wading forward, Mark
smiled and high five the adoring crowd of girls. His arms waved over their
heads, almost dwarfing them. As Mark made it off the court he cast glance at
Kendra. She stared back, not enamored just with the obvious inkling of
potential, but the way he looked. It touched something deep inside her. Her
heart skipped a beat. She was utterly smitten.
“Hello..” Mark smiled as
he passed Kendra.
“Hi,” Kendra smiled back, putting out a hand, “ My
names Kendra Adams..recruiter for..”
Marks enormous palm wrapped around
her hand. She shivered with excitement.
“Glad you could come by to see me
play ma’am.” Mark looked down at Kendra as they walked out of the barn, hangers
on and giggling girls in tow. Kendra picked up the pace to keep up with the long
legged Mark. Kendra quickly gathered her whits.
Standing out in the
brilliant sunlight, Kendra couldn’t stop looking at his tall, lean, muscular
body. She unconsciously licked her lips, twirling her hair. Shifting in place as
he walked away. He drover her to distraction.
‘Why am I so attracted to
him!?’ Kendra thought, but as he walked away and his seeing the way his muscled
body moved with purpose, power and a grace she knew.
Just then she felt a
tap on her shoulder, she turned to see a chubby, attractive blonde woman, about
her age.
“You must be Miss Adams. I’m Mark’s mother.”
Kendra
smiled, flicking the switch to charming saleswoman, “ Hello Mrs. Bliss! So glad
to meet you. I am so glad I could come out and visit. Lemme talk to you about
Mark...”
Night fell over the Bliss farm, insects seem to roar in the
absolute quiet of the country side. Since nightfall Kendra spent the hours
talking, cajoling and trying to persuade Mrs. Bliss. She could tell to get to
Mark, she would need to win over his mom. So to do that she cut potato’s, snap
stringbeans and shuck corn anything to get to talk with Marks mom.
“Ever
since Mark started growing so tall and playing basketball so well, people seem
to come around all the time.”
Kendra looked up from her shucking, “ So
why is Mark still here? I think if he came out to the college and we could show
him...”
Kendra was cut off by Mrs. Bliss whos face awash with
unmistakable sincerity.
“ Mrs. Adams, Kendra, Mark is still here because
he wants too be. He knows I can’t handle the farm all by myself. Even with hired
help it’s tough. He should’ve stayed in school. I know...” She stopped, turning
back to the stove.
Kendra eyes dropped back to the corn. Every so often
she’d come across a family hardship or heart wrenching story that would make her
ache. She could hear in Mark’s mothers voice a pain and fear, that her son may
have lost an opportunity to have something she nor anyone else in the Bliss
family could have. Unlike fellow recruiters Kendra did not offer the stars and
moon to every high school kid that could dribble a basketball. She’d seen
scrupulous recruiters for big time programs offer whatever it took to lure the
players to their schools.
Lure was the proper word Kendra thought, very
base animalistic sense of competition amongst some recruiters. Cars, money,
condo’s, women were all offered to the young men facing life decisions at their
most confused part of their life. Many came from hardships, tough lives where
the idea of those things being achievable for just bouncing a ball, was a
nirvana. Kendra had to keep a moral balance, she knew she wasn’t going to get
big time players; but she wanted the best, both in athletic and academic talent.
That balancing act threw her off quite often.
Through the peeling
wallpaper and chipped plaster walls both women could hear the insistent ping of
the basket ball.
Through out the afternoon and evening Kendra tried to
get Mark to sit down and talk about the college. But to no avail. After a few
minutes a friend would come calling and away he’d go, off to play ball again.
About 7 o’clock Mark, and several other friends- mostly giggling 19 year old
girls, sat around the long kitchen table to feast on the enormous meal Mrs.
Bliss made for the crowd. Kendra, for a while began to relax, turning off the
recruiter part of her personality to be herself. Still she was uncomfortable. It
was Mark. She was unable to look at him, it drover her mad with distraction. His
physical presence was powerful and overwhelming. He had as gentle smile and a
body that a Greek god would envy. His eyes were shy, darting away each time she
looked at him. he almost seemed uncomfortable with the attention from the
outside.
Each muscle defined. Each inch of his skin tanned to a bronze.
She was mesmerized by the sinews of his neck and the way the veins traced his
forearms. Yet he was a quiet young man, not the slightest hint of arrogance.
Humble and self effacing, Kendra watched him noticing the way one young woman
hovered close to him,
‘ Must be his girl friend. I don’t think she
realizes how lucky she is.’ Kendra sighed, watching the young people savor life,
the simple unhurried country life. A life she never knew. Her world was rush
here, rush there. Get on this plane, call this person, email that person. Also
this bounty of youth, pretty young women, reminded Kendra of her own
age.
‘I’m not so young anymore...are you Kendra Adams?’
By 9
o’clock, Kendra sat, weary with chasing Mark around, trying to get him to sit
and talk. As she sat sipping the last cup of coffee poured steaming hot from the
old fashioned stove top percolator, Marks mother stretched to stand, “Kendra, it
is awful late and I’d hate to think of you drivin all the way back to town. The
nearest motel is a four hour drive from here. Now I’m not sure if it’s allowed,
knowing how strict rules are, but would you like to stay here for the evenin? I
have a spare room?”
Kendra glanced at her watch, never realizing where
the night had gone. “Well I don’t think it would be a problem. Just a little
country hospitality never hurt anyone. So long as you let me reimburse
you...”
Mah Bliss held up a hand, “ No- no I insist. Its only right
inviting a young lady to stay the night. I can’t have you out wandering
‘round.”
‘Young lady.’ Kendra thought, a smile coming to her face, ‘Mrs.
Bliss you’re probably only a year or two older than me.’
But they came
from different worlds. Harsh farm life wore on her, aged her quicker than she
deserved. Pretty gold strands of hair faded gray all too quickly. Wrinkles
etched the corners of her eyes.
Kendra stood, taking her bone china cup
and saucer over to the sink, “Let me wash these for you Mrs.
Bliss...”
“Thank you Kendra, and please...call me Marlene.”
With
Marlene excusing herself to go and make up the spare room, it left Kendra alone
with her thoughts and her dish washing chores. But , just a room away, two young
women also thinking they were alone spoke freely and loud enough to be overheard
by Kendra.
The voices were tittering, alive with news. Kendra tuned out
the crickets chirp to listen to the hushed gossip.
“Oh my gawd he is so
incredibly cute!” One voice said.
“I know- I know!” The second chimed in,
both suppressing an obvious euphoria. “But did you hear what Cindy said about
Mark!?”
Kendra listened more intently as she could hear the excitement
level rise.
“Gawd she didn’t see it did she!? Is it true!? Is what they
say true!?”
A pregnant pause captivated Kendra, she waited, wondering
what the two women were talking about. But as she heard the whispers the
insinuation was much more than innocent A grown would enrapt to the gossip of
two 19 year olds. But it was about Mark and she had to listen. Before the words
could drift the few feet a clatter of foot steps stole her
attention.
Marlene appeared at the foot of the back staircase, “ All set,
room is ready.”
Kendra strained to smile, “Thanks.”
The darkness
of the room was cut by a wide shaft of gray/blue light. It’s eery shine cast by
a full moon hovering in the ink black curtain of the night sky. So bright, in
its turquoise shimmer that it cast shadows in the room, as if a blue filtered
street lamp. The crickets sharp, sing song, chatter continued deep into the
night. A song that caressed Kendra’s hearing, so attuned to the racket of a
city. Even the quiet of the home Maine country side had a hard time
comparing.
Kendra lay awake, staring at the ceiling, “ What is wrong with
me?”
Her mumbling, accompanied by shifting back and forth in bed, arms
crossed behind her head; all an echo of the words whispered in secret about
Mark. She found her interest in the young man more than professional. Knowing
that from the second she laid eyes on him several hours before, her infatuation
bore its origins in a deep seated lust. In her travels she’d met men, some the
height of arrogance, sure they were the greatest specimen of manhood every to
grace the face of the earth.
Some recruits would make outright passes,
if not gropes, on the beautiful 35 year old. She hated it, always rebuffing
their testosterone driven advances, sometimes even giving up scouting them for
the school. She didn’t want them to get an upper hand ina relationship that had
to be professional to keep the ego’s in line. Some, she would admit were
attractive, but never once would she ever consider doing what she now found
herself considering about Mark.
The inextricable force of sleep slowly
tugged her eyelids shut. Drowning out the sexual surges pulsing through her
body. Professional decorum and ability to separate work from pleasure, melted
away as she dozed off.
It was a soft, distant noise that pierced the
peaceful night. She drowsily opened her eyes, trying to focus on where the noise
was coming from. Through the creeks and moans of the nearly 80 year old farm
house she could still hear it. Still too tired to comprehend what it was, Kendra
found herself swinging her legs to the floor. Her feet, covered in an old pair
of socks, touched the un-yielding pine floor boards. She pushed the hair from
her face.
Pulling down the T-shirt, which she wore to bed, after it had
ridden up int the toss and turns of a restless sleep. Always prepared for
unexpected detours or lost luggage, Kendra always kept an overnight bag in the
car. Packed with a change of clothes and something to wear to bed, along with
essentials. The oversized university T-shirt covered her ample, full breasts
well. Still they swayed, freed from a bra, under the cotton loving the way the
material rubbed against her body. Wearing cut off sweat shorts, Kendra’s bare
legs, smooth and well tanned, went to goose pimples as a strangely cool breeze
caressed them.
Groggy, Kendra peaked out from her door down the long
hallway that bisected the top floor of the Bliss farmhouse. All the lights were
off, but still the ambient glow from the full moon seeped in, lighting her path.
She inched forward. The sound was distinct. She knew what it was. It was
unmistakable.
‘Gawd is that Mark...?’ Kendra thought excitedly. She
could hear the sounds of a mans moaning. A strong, deep moan of pleasure.
Kendras mind flashed into a wild image of Marks being ridden by one of his
adoring admirers. Seeing his face awash with ecstasy as the willowy blonde rode
his tall, long, lean body.
Kendra stopped as she was only inches from the
door which the noise was emanating. She paused to look at her hands. They were
trembling. She was in a trance. Mesmerized by the idea of seeing Mark’s naked
body. Maybe even touching it. Tasting it. At the door the moans seemed constant.
But a single voice. Her breathing was rapid, shallow. Nervous. Glancing around a
final time, Kendra could see a narrow sliver of light coming from under the old,
warped door. She knelt, breast swaying under their pendulous weight, placing an
eye level to the old fashioned key hole. Her vision was blocked partially inside
by something hanging from the old glass door knob. But what she could see was
Mark’s large feet dangling off the end of the bed, slowly waving back and
forth.
Unsteady because of her still groggy state, Kendra lost her
footing, tipping forward. She stumbled, balancing herself, but not before
accidentally knocking the door ajar. The whine of its old hinges seemed loud as
it swung open a few inches. Kendra stood up, eyes wide, darting back and forth.
Almost ready to retreat out of fear, she didn’t. She wasn’t herself. She wasn’t
going to turn back.
Unexpectedly, Kendra took a deep breath, steeled
herself and nudged forward into Mark’s bedroom. Head bowed slightly she peered
around the door to see Mark’s nearly naked body bathed in a shaft of blue
moonlight. He writhed alone. Obviously asleep, his unconscious mind stirring his
body. Kendra stepped in, quietly closing the door behind. Her breathing trembled
like her hands, quivering with excitement. She tip toed deeper into the room and
now for the first time she got a look at Mark’s young, strong body. The room was
silent other than the slow pant which rasped inside her heaving chest. She
stifled a gasp. Kendra’s eye was caught by the masculine pillar that lay across
one of his muscled thigh, a broad purplish head sneaking out of his
shorts.
One of Kendra’s fetishe, one she never shared with anyone-
certainly not her husband, was the complete captivation with the power and
beauty of a naked man. Any and all parts of a naked man. While her gender are
called " mentally stimulated", Kendra was an unabashed "visual..touch..taste"
woman. Now in her rounds through community colleges and smaller university’s,
she’d been in more than few locker rooms in her time. And she’d seen her share
of men in all their glory. Flaccid and semi-aroused. Time passed, and Kendra
found herself lingering on the bodies these players were blessed with. Kendra
also knew black or white, when you got up 6 feet plus the proportions expanded
in dramatic, sexually breath taking proportions.
A Moment of Bliss
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