Her name was Carolyn, but that wasn’t what jogged my memory. Was it her face? Did she look like somebody I knew twenty years ago, back in college? I...couldn’t picture it, because she wasn’t the right age; neither of us were. Like me, she looked to be on the high side of thirty-five, maybe forty; in my opinion, the sexiest age possible for a woman who loved being sexy and wasn’t afraid to advertise it. And she couldn’t help advertising it, no matter what time of day I saw her or what she was. The Monday before the first game, Tommy’s coach called him in and had him sit down while he finished his shower in the back of his office. He emerged rubbing his head with a towel and Tommy was astonished to see how big the coach’s penis was. It hung, a slab of pink meat and loose skin, uncircumcised and knotted with blood vessels, a good half-foot between the man’s hairy legs.The coach sat and let his limp member hang off the edge of the chair. Tommy found he had a hard time not looking at it. More

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