The Scavenger Hunt

I'm baaaaaack....

Sorry for the delay folks. Life is pretty hectic, and that's all I really have to say. But here is Chapter 8, and chapters 9 thru 12 will be along over the next few weeks. Chapter 13, the finale, is still in progress -- I would anticipate a delay after 12 publishes.

Chapter 8 finds Brad getting back to the mission, though with some help from his friends. Though the sex scene is fairly substantial, there is a ton of plot development before and throughout the "good" parts, so as always with my stories, skim the sex scenes at your own risk.

Programming note: This chapter mostly features sex with a pregnant woman. I did not publish it in the fetish category, because her being pregnant is not the reason Travis is with her -- she checks a box, and happens to be pregnant. Her pregnancy is not ignored, by any means, but it's not fetished-ized, either. So if that kind of thing turns you off... well, sorry, I guess.

Enjoy!

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The Scavenger Hunt, Chapter 8

"Woo hoo, Temple!" the first guy shouted as I walked into the auxiliary gym.

"Way to show off those legs, baby!" The next guy's voice was deeper and gruffer.

"Nice ass, Travis!" That one was either a girl or a guy whose balls had yet to drop.

I waved and half-bowed to all the admirers as I strode confidently across the hardwood floor. A lesser man might have blushed, but what the hell did I have to be embarrassed about? For one, I'd done a lot of business in this room lately -- a glance up to either upper tier of seats would bring back some memories that most of the hecklers would only ever experience on a porn site. For another, maybe the nearly skintight 80s-style short shorts were no longer in style, but they displayed my legs and my ass -- and another key below-the-waist body part -- the way regular shorts couldn't.

Taylor was counting on that.

This class was Direction and Organization of Intramural Sports. Usually we sat in the classroom and learned about rules, regulations, laws and all other sorts of boring minutiae involved with administering intramural and amateur club sports. As part of the curriculum, though, each student had to organize an hour-long sporting event for the class to take part in. Mine had been baseball -- of course -- and Sandy let me do it the second week of class, to get it out of the way before the actual season heated up. Today was a 3-on-3 basketball tournament, and I'd made sure I was dressed for it.

As I waited in line to get my assignment, I stared at my professor, standing behind the table helping today's student organizer get everything underway. Sandy Watson wasn't a small woman to begin with, but now at six months pregnant, she'd swelled up in all the right places. Her already sizable tits were probably two sizes bigger, and the yellow sundress she wore couldn't hide that her ass had plumped up some, as well. Just thinking about getting my hands on all those curves made my already tight shorts even snugger, which was just what I wanted.

"What's up, Russ?" I asked, knocking fists with the tall guy behind the table. He played on CAU's basketball team, so of course, this was his event.

"'Sup Trav?" he replied, looking down his list for my name.

"I don't remember seeing him on there," Sandy said, leaning over to check.

"C'mon, Doc," I said, using our nickname for her. She didn't yet have the degree to back it up, but we had a couple Sherlock Holmes fans in the class. "You know Bazewell ain't gonna let any of us play another sport in-season. I'm one of the refs."

"Ah," Russ said, waving me behind the table. "Find you a zebra outfit that fits, then head over to court 4."

I made my way to the other side of the table, where Sandy was already bending over and digging through boxes for me. This was the proverbial moment of truth -- I wasn't going to get a better opening to make my pitch. I took a deep breath and jumped in.

"Hey, Doc, you don't have to do that for me." I moved toward the boxes, and in doing so, I pushed my crotch -- complete with my now hard, straining cock -- directly against her juicy ass. Not only that, but the impact pushed her forward, and I had to grab her around the hips to keep her from toppling over.

"Mr. Temple!" she softly exclaimed, spinning toward me once she knew she'd regained her balance. Her face was flushed and her eyes were slightly glazed, but she at least looked indignant.

The only reason I was even doing things this way was because of Taylor -- when she pitched it, it felt creepy and borderline harass-y. Even with her assurances that this was the best way to connect with Sandy, it still felt a little like that. Still, I trusted Taylor's instincts, and besides, Sandy and I had a good enough professor-student relationship that I was confident I could charm my way out of it if Taylor had gotten it wrong.

That, and once we got where we were hopefully going, I could explain that this was all an act.

"Sandy, you're what? Three years older than me?" I asked. I knew for a fact the number was seven. "Just call me Travis."

"Fine, Travis," she said, pulling away from me slightly. "That was inappropriate, don't you think?"

"What can I say?" I asked. "I'm a bit clumsy."

"I've seen you play baseball," she replied, a slight smile toying with her lips as she pushed her curly blonde hair back over her shoulders. "You're not fooling me."

"And besides," I continued, ignoring her last statement. "Nothing would be more inappropriate than letting you fall on your stomach, right?" My hand brushed lightly against her bulging belly through the sundress, and she closed her eyes and inhaled.

"So the only thing you could do was grab me by the hips and hold me up, huh?" she smirked when the moment had passed.

"You're right. I could have aimed a bit higher," I agreed. "I'm sure I could have found some things there to help me keep you upright."

She was already blushing, but she looked down at the floor momentarily. "Here," she finally said, pushing something into my hand. "This one should fit you."

She handed me a referee's shirt.

"Aww," I said. "Can't I just go without? Seems a shame to cover all this up," I added, motioning to my arms and torso.

She rolled her eyes and laughed.

"Hey," I argued. "I work hard to keep myself looking like this."

"I bet you do," she muttered, softly enough that only I could hear it.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Umm... nothing," she said. "Quit preening like a peacock and put the shirt on. The girls on court 4 need you."

I grinned as she headed back to the table. That had gone about as well as it possibly could have. I pulled the ref outfit on over my sleeveless workout shirt and ran down to my assigned court.

The girls playing against each other on court 4 weren't the most athletic bunch we had, but they were all at least decently attractive and they were all working up a hell of a sweat. Every time I looked over at the scorer's table, I caught Sandy looking at me. The first couple of times she looked away immediately, but the last few, she let the gaze linger, as if to say, "Yeah, I'm looking at you. So what?" Between her pointed glances and the sweaty co-ed flesh I was constantly in the middle of, my erection went absolutely nowhere.

I decided not to go to the table during the 5-minute pseudo-halftime break, letting the anticipation build for what I knew would be an interesting post-class chat. I didn't want my arousal to fade, though, but I didn't have to do anything more than think back to Sunday evening...

****************

Beth had gotten back sometime after dark and found me curled up around Taylor in her bed. She'd tried not to disturb us as she climbed in on Taylor's other side, but I was never a deep sleeper anyway, and I woke up pretty quickly. It wasn't long before Beth's eyes found mine.

"Hi," she said, so softly I almost didn't hear it.

"Hey," I said. "I hope you're not mad."

It was pretty dark, but her smile lit up the room.

"Mad? Of course not," she said, just about whispering now. "This was basically what I wanted to happen."

"Well, I don't know if it's there yet," I said. "But it's a lot closer than I thought it would ever get, to be honest."

"Really?" she asked, her eyes sparkling majestically. She looked so happy, and I almost wanted to clamber over Taylor and try to make her even happier.

"I can't speak for her, but at least for me, yeah," I said. "She really is an amazing person."

"I know," she said, leaning down and kissing her girlfriend gently on the lips. Beth pulled back in confusion. "What is that on her lips?"

"Either Captain Morgan or Blue Moon," I said. "We went to Twitty's to celebrate both teams winning, then we came back here and hit it a little more. She had quite a bit to drink."

"Wow," she said. "She never does that. I'm a little jealous. I'd like to get her drunk and take advantage of her."

I wasn't about to tell her the reason Taylor had gotten drunk, and the fact that I had to keep something from her made me immensely sad.

"Just ask her," I said. "I'm sure she'd let you."

We lay there in silence for a few more minutes.

"I'm gonna take off and head back to my place," I said.

"You don't have to, Travis," she whispered back.

"I know, but I have gotten nothing done this weekend," I said. Then I looked at Taylor and grinned. "Well, that's not true. I accomplished a lot, and I had a lot of fun. But fun isn't going to do my laundry or my homework. I'm just gonna clean up a little then head out."

She looked sad, but she smiled anyway. "Ok," she said. "Tomorrow in class?"

"I wouldn't miss it."

I went to the bathroom to drain my bladder, and my tongue and lips still tasted like Taylor, so I brushed my teeth and stole some of their mouthwash. When I emerged back into the bedroom, Beth was still on her right side facing Taylor, but now she was naked. Her left hand rubbed lightly up and down and Taylor's right arm as she whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

It was a beautiful moment, and I fully planned on just leaving them to it. Before I got out of the bedroom, though, I took one last look back at the lovers on the bed. A sliver of moonlight crept through the window and lit up Beth's ass in a silvery glow. I couldn't resist, and dropped my duffel bag by the bed before kneeling down beside it.

"Oh, God, yes," Beth moaned quietly as I kissed one of her perfect moonlit globes. I gently pushed one leg in front of the other, spreading them just enough that I could snake my hand between them. She was already dripping when I tenderly pushed my middle finger between her lips and into the boiling furnace of her pussy.

"Yesssss," she hissed. She slowly rocked her hips against the invading digit and grasped at Taylor's exposed breast as she continued to lick and nibble on her earlobe. Taylor was still asleep, but her subconscious must have been aware of something going on, because her right arm moved to Beth's back, holding her in place as I stepped up my attention between her legs.

"My clit," Beth moaned. "Please," she added, her voice taking on a pleading tone now. I removed my middle finger from her pussy and rubbed her clit lightly, plunging my index finger into her depths instead. It was a weird rhythm to maintain, but I managed to massage her pleasure button and finger her at the same time.

"You're killing me," Beth groaned, continuing to thrust her hips as close to in rhythm with my fingers as she could. Her ass was pretty firm and tight, but I gently nibbled on whatever I could get between my lips.

"You love it," I responded, lightly swatting her left cheek. She moaned again, and I delighted in licking and kissing the resulting red mark.

"I do," she said. "You're about to make me cum."

"Good girl," I said. I increased my pace just a little -- I could have gone after her much harder, but this moment had so much romance woven into it, that I didn't want to turn it into an out-of-place hardcore porn scene. And besides, what I was giving her was more than enough.

"Oh, fuck," she stammered, but the rest was muffled when she buried her head in the crook between Taylor's neck and right shoulder. Her legs quaked as her orgasm rolled over her, and I laid my face against her ass and pulled her as tightly against me as I could. I stopped moving my fingers, content to let her finish riding the waves at her own pace.

I pulled back when she was finished, and she immediately rolled onto her back. She beckoned me over with a finger, and I knee-walked over to her. She pulled my head down to hers and kissed me with a ferocity I'd never felt from anyone other than her. It was like she wanted to devour me, and that was ok, because I wanted to devour her, too.

When we came up for air, I stuck my fingers in her mouth, and she licked the copious amount of juice off of them. She pulled me back down for another kiss, giving me my first taste of her pussy. Even though it was third-hand, I knew I'd be going back for more and more.

"So hot, you guys," Taylor mumbled, still mostly asleep. Beth stopped kissing me and turned to her girlfriend, and after watching them make out for a few seconds, I lightly patted Beth on her bare ass and made my exit.

If anyone had been watching the next day in soccer coaching class, they'd have noticed a different dynamic between the three of us. It seemed that Taylor was almost giddy when she looked at me, but she smoldered when she talked to Beth. Beth's smile was permanently stuck on high beams, and I couldn't get enough of either of them.

Beth went off to a study group for lunch, and Taylor and I spent our lunch break talking about Sandy. By the time we were done, we had a game plan. Which led me to...

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"Hey, Travis," one of the girls said, bouncing the ball at me. "Come back from dreamland. It's time to play."

"I wasn't in dreamland," I said, bouncing the ball back to her. "I was just thinking."

"Yeah, from the look on your face, we know what you were thinking about," another girl said.

"Whoever she is, I bet she'll love the way you're dressed today," the first girl said. The whole group laughed at me, and I just rolled my eyes, blew the whistle and away we went.

The girls seemed to go out of their way to make contact with me during the rest of the game. Most of it was innocent, but there were a couple not-so-subtle package checks toward the end. All that left with me with a sizable bulge, which I didn't bother to hide after class, when the gym had mostly cleared out and I approached Sandy.

"Wow," she said, not even pretending to look anywhere else.

"Hey, it's their fault," I said, motioning back over my shoulder to the now-empty court 4. "And a little bit yours, too."

"Mine?" she asked.

"Doc, don't pretend," I said. "I saw you watching me all during class."

"If you say so," she tried.

"Uh huh," I said. "And even if you weren't, it's pretty hard to get what happened before class out of my mind."

She was blushing again.

"I mean, you gotta know you're already a beautiful woman, Doc," I said. "Your current situation has only made that more obvious, and it's also filled out certain... areas... even better. Pushing against you earlier..." I trailed off, reliving the memory and causing my cock to get even harder.

"And you said that was an accident," she said.

"I did say that, didn't I?" I replied. She flushed even harder and couldn't maintain the eye contact. I wasn't going to let her off the hook, either... so we stood there for most of a minute in silence, me staring at her pointedly and her looking anywhere else.

Finally, she looked back up at me.

"Was there something else you needed, Travis?"

"Well, two things," I said. "First, I need to give you your shirt back."

I reached down to peel off the black-and-white striped ref's shirt, but grabbed the white tank top underneath it as well. When I finished pulling the garment over my head, I was standing topless in the middle of the gym.

"Here ya go," I said, extending the shirts out to her, but she didn't take them immediately. She was fixated on my chest and abs, and since I was proud of the work I'd put into them, I let her look. My six-pack and chiseled pecs had gone away while I was recovering in the hospital, but as soon as I was able, I'd hit the weights as hard as the baseball coaches would let me, and it all had started to come back.

She quickly looked back up at me, snapping the shirt out of my hand. "Travis..." she said, looking as flustered as I'd ever seen her.

"What?" I asked, feigning ignorance. I looked down at my upper body. "Oh, that. Oops," I deadpanned, making it clear that I knew exactly what I was doing. "I guess I handed you two shirts. I'll need one of them back."

She separated the two shirts in her hand, tossing the ref's shirt into the box and the tank top to me.

"Thanks," I said, making no motion to put it on. "The second thing... you know Taylor Greene, right?"

Sandy's face screwed up a little, a brief bit of panic creeping into her expression.

"Yes," she said.

"You talked to her last night, right?" I asked. She panicked a little more, but just for a few seconds. She slowly began to smile again, and she got another long glimpse of my abs before I finally blocked her view by putting my shirt back on.

"Yes, I did," she said. "And her girlfriend, Beth. They're both such beautiful girls."

"Agreed," I said, fighting hard not to register my own surprise. Taylor had told me she'd talk to Sandy and lay the groundwork for me -- she'd never mentioned Beth would be there. "Anyway, Taylor mentioned you were having a problem. She suggested it was something I might be able to help you out with."

"Is it, now?"

"Well, she only told me there was a problem, not what it was," I said, lying through my teeth. "Whether I can help you out or not, that's up to you."

She looked me up and down again -- clearly the presence of my shirt hadn't diminished her ability to enjoy the view.

"Maybe," she said. "When are you free?"

Taylor and I had agreed that we needed to get this over with quickly.

"I'm available tomorrow night," I said. "We can grab dinner somewhere, and you can tell me all about this problem. I'll meet you at your office after practice. Around 6:30."

*******************

"Wow, Travis," Sandy said as I helped her out of my car. "This is a really nice place."

"You're a really nice professor," I said with a slight shrug. Milena's Cocina wasn't really

that

upscale; there were a half-dozen places I could have taken her that required jackets and ties. You couldn't come in here straight off the beach, but my CAU polo and khaki slacks and Sandy's black blouse and black-and-white striped knee-length skirt were more than enough to satisfy the host, who promptly seated us along the back wall, near the kitchen.

I chose this place for two reasons. First, you couldn't get better Italian food anywhere in South Carolina, even at the four-star tourist traps with more expensive menus. And second --

"Signore Travis, benvenuto!" our waiter said as he approached the table. "And who is this lovely lady?"

"Marcelo, this is Sandy," I said, and watched as he took her hand and kissed it. "She's a friend of mine from campus."

Sandy looked back at me with grateful eyes -- I don't know how she was expecting me to introduce her, but certainly I wasn't about to tell the truth.

"Sandy, this is Marcelo," I continued. "His wife is the Milena in the restaurant name -- whatever you choose to eat, she created it. His son, Arturo, played high school baseball with Lex Grissom, one of my teammates. They come to most of our games."

"Si," he said. "You tore it up last weekend, Travis. We didn't get to Friday's game, but Saturday and Sunday, you played like a man possessed. We tried to catch you after, but you took off quickly."