bulletbill57
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Nov 2, 2001
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THE GAME
Prologue:
November nights in Louisiana can be very cool, and tonight the breeze is chilly. It’s Friday night. Football night at Mansfield High School and the final home game of the year. They’re trailing Logansport by two points with a playoff spot on the line. The local radio station broadcaster announces “Time out for the Wolverines with two seconds left showing on the clock!” Coach Washington screams “Field goal team, GO!” Bill Zielks, the kicker, pulls on his helmet and sprints to the field. A blue collar boy on a team with mostly white collar family players, he is looked down on both for his position and social status. He puts up with being called a redneck and the jokes about his funny Polish name, but he is grimly determined to do his job for the team. They line up, and a forty-five-yard field goal challenges him. He’s done it in practice but this is his first attempt in real play, never having been called upon to perform this task. Forty-five yards and two seconds, an eternity when your team’s entire season is on the line. The holder calls out “Set, HUT!”. Bill kicks the ball just as a two-hundred-pound defensive tackle smashes into him and he crashes to the ground, his helmet ripped off, bleeding from a gash to his right cheek. A whistle blows, flag on the play. The home crowd screams in joy as the referee announces “Personal foul-roughing the kicker. The penalty is declined, the field goal is good, the game is over!” Final score: Mansfield 24-Logansport 23. The team physician, Dr Wilcox, is out on the field checking the fallen kicker. “Bill? Can you hear me? Bill? How many fingers am I holding up Bill?”. “Two doc, OWWWW….” he groans as Doctor Wilcox cleans and stitches up the gash in his face…
Now showered and dressed in his so-called redneck uniform; jeans, cowboy boots, a flannel shirt and Number Three Dale Earnhardt NASCAR ball cap tipped back on his aching head, Bill Zielks walks from the locker room down the hall of the school, his cheek smarting from the combination of the gash and the stitches. His head is still throbbing from being knocked to the ground by an overzealous defensive lineman. Doctor Wilcox told him to come in three days or right away if he showed any signs of infection in his face, and he said he would. Friday night. No date as usual and the First Methodist Church is having a post-game dance. One of the many things about rednecks is that they never can get the pretty, popular girls to go out with them. The clop of his boots echoes in the empty hall, as if to remind him that he is alone. Suddenly, Bill sees Kim Hall, the head cheerleader walking toward him. Kim, without a doubt one of the most beautiful girls to bless Mansfield High School. Very pretty in her cheerleader uniform with its short skirt, pom-pom socks and sneakers. His eyes lit up every time he saw her-too bad she looked down her nose at him. Long blonde hair, crystal blue-eyes, a perfect pair of legs and beautiful feet Bill had seen in sandals one spring. He’d always wondered what it would be like to take those shoes off and tickle those pretty feet, imagining her laughter in his mind. Kim, girlfriend of team quarterback Brad Ramsey and one of the most stuck-up girls to curse Mansfield High School as well. Kim, her dad the owner of the town newspaper and an upper-class type. Smiling shyly, “H’lo Kim.” he says, his eyes directed down. “Bill.” is all that Kim replies, her nose turned up. “Did you enjoy the game Kim?” Bill says. Tossing her hair, “Brad threw two touchdowns and ran for another, he was so great!” Yeah, no acknowledgement of his game-winning field goal-not that he expected any, even though his three extra points and field goal equaled the number of points Brad had scored. After all, he was just a lowly kicker with a dad who was a retired Navy Chief Petty Officer and now worked as an electrician-a blue collar kid with a pickup truck and not a fancy car. “See you at the church dance?” Bill says. “Perhaps.” Kim arrogantly retorts, flipping her head so her hair swirls around her face. “Later!”
Head down, lonely, Bill heads to his truck. Reaching under the seat, he pulls a bottle of whiskey out, cracks the seal, and takes a long swig. The alcohol has a calming effect, dulling the pain in his face and his heart as well. Another thing about the redneck boys is that they can always find a way to get booze. “Another long Friday night.” He sighs. One more long pull on the whiskey bottle. No sense going to the dance. He twists the key to Accessory and the sound of the local Southern rock station softly fills the cab of the truck.
Suddenly, he is startled by the sound of a girl crying bitterly. Another pull of whiskey and he hops out of the truck to see what’s wrong. There, sitting on the sidewalk is Kim sobbing, her arms wrapped around her knees rocking back and forth seeking comfort that she could not find.
“Kim, are you okay?” Bill says, alarmed that someone has tried to hurt her. Someone has, just not the way Bill thinks right now. Looking up at him, tears streaming down her pretty face, her expression is one of both shock, anger and deep sorrow. “B-b-bill? I-I just caught B-brad making out with th-that fucking majorette L-l-laura Cook from the band! That fucking b-bitch! They just drove off! He-he w-was going to take m-me home tonight!” She began to wail piteously.
Another thing about being a blue-collar redneck boy is that you’re taught compassion no matter how people treat you. Having good manners is just Southern working-class tradition, and an honorable one at that. Bill’s dad had constantly told him “Son, if you can help those who are helpless and dry the tears of those that weep, in the end people will say that you were an honorable and chivalrous man.”, and chivalry ran deep in the veins of Bill Zielks tonight. Bill held out his hand. “Kim, come on. I’ll take you home-if you want to.” It was both funny and strange how Kim looked up at him now with tear-filled eyes and a little girl expression on her face that was both heartbreaking and adorable at the same time, and took his hand. It felt so soft and warm.
Kim got into Bill’s truck and sat, her head down, snuffling and sobbing quietly. Bill wiped her cheeks gently with his bandanna handkerchief, then handed it to her. He nervously took another pull of whiskey, then passed her the bottle and was pleasantly surprised when she took a long swig. “Bastard!” she said, then turned to him. “Thank you Bill. I’m so sorry I treated you badly. You’re really sweet. Oh god, I could sure use a good laugh right now.” She took another long swig of the whiskey. A good laugh right now. Bill thought about those pretty feet he’d once seen in sandals, thought about seeing those feet bare, envisioned a smile on Kim’s face and the sound of ticklish laughter coming from her lips, and the gears in his head began to spin faster.
Grinning slyly, Bill said “You know Kim, I think I can arrange that!” as he bent and took her left leg into his lap. He began to unlace her sneaker. Her eyes widened, but due to the combined effects of the alcohol and her shock, she was unable to resist. “B-bill, what are you doing?”. “You said you could use a good laugh, Kim.” Bill said as he evilly smiled and tugged off her sneaker. “So, I’m going to make you laugh!”. He peeled off her pom-pom sock, baring her foot. Her toenails were painted a hot pink, only accentuating how pretty they were as they wiggled. “My, what a pretty foot you have Kim, is it ticklish?” Kim’s pretty eyes grew even wider and she began to grin involuntarily. A nervous snicker bubbled up from within her. “Oh B-bill n-no! I-I’m very ticklish, no please!” More giggles.
“Hey now, I haven’t even touched your foot-yet, but I plan on tickling you as pink as your toenails are!”. Kim giggled and smiled even more, trying to squirm out of Bill’s strong, yet gentle grasp on her ankle to no avail. With that, Bill began to gently caress Kim’s bare sole, softly stroking up and down it as if he was playing his guitar. Her sole was soft, warm and moist. Now free of the sock and sneaker that held it, it was very sensitive. Her naked foot was the musical instrument and her laughter was the music. Kim giggled and squealed, grinning broadly. Bill continued tickling Kim’s sole, softly. Lightly stroking her arch with a feathery touch and making lazy circles on the ball of her foot, he tickled underneath her toes where they joined the foot and the toe pads as well as Kim laughed and squirmed. The tears rolling down her face now were not ones of sadness.
“ Now, let’s not neglect the other one!” said Bill as he grabbed her other ankle and stripped her right foot of its shoe and sock. He licked the sole and toes as Kim squealed and giggled with delight and then he did the same to her left foot. She howled with laughter slapping her hands on the seat of the truck. Never had he seen such a beautiful smile as she wore now.
He stopped tickling her to let her catch her breath and she grabbed and kissed him hard. “Bill, I-I just came in my pants! Bill-please-Bill-please-please-fuck me-fuck me hard and tickle me-please-fuck-tickle-me-please!” she panted breathlessly, kissing him again and again, running her hand on the now hardening crotch of his jeans. Bill quickly pulled off her panties and put her on her knees on the truck seat. He unzipped and dropped his jeans and slid his now hard dick into her drooling pussy. Reaching between her legs, he brought one hand around to tickle her clit as the other went down to tickle her bare soles now facing up, alternating tickling each foot as she giggled, bucked her ass against his dick and squealed. “GIGGLE-GIGGLE, SQUEEEAAALLL! AAAHAHAHA I’M COMING AAAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!” Kim shrieked with laughter. The feel of her warm, wet pussy, the sight of her wiggling toes, combined with the sound of her giggling orgasm and bucking ass was more that Bill could take. He groaned with pleasure as his sperm squirted into her.
Bill and Kim cuddle and kiss in his truck. Deep kisses. Sloppy-wet-drooling-tongue kisses. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Bill Zielks” said Kim, smiling. “I’ve always loved you from afar Kim, but now I can say that I love you too.” Bill said, smiling back. More kisses. “The church dance?” says Bill. “No.” says Kim, giggling, as she places both bare feet into his lap, wiggling her pretty toes as she strokes his now re-hardening dick with them. Once again in the cab of his truck, and many times in the future, Bill brings a smile to Kim’s face and laughter to her voice. Finally driving Kim home, Bill pulls into his family’s driveway. Exiting his truck, he falls to his knees and thanks his God for bringing Kim into his life. This time the tears falling are his-tears of joy as he gives thanks to his Lord. One more thing about rednecks is that they are grateful for what they have, a lesson Brad Ramsey may never learn.
Mansfield High School went on to win the state championship that year-by a field goal in the final seconds of the game. Finally, Bill got the recognition he richly deserved and had someone that loved him regardless of his status. A week after football season had ended, Bill and Kim were walking to his truck when Brad Ramsey runs yelling to Kim. “Kim! Kim! Can we talk?”. “There’s nothing to talk about Brad. We’re finished.”, she says. “You’ve got Laura and I’ve got Bill.” An exasperated Brad says “Laura dumped me, I made a mistake and I’m so, so sorry! Can’t we make up? What could you see in Zielks here? He’s just a stupid Polak kicker and a redneck!” Bill quietly opens the door and Kim gets into his truck. She turns to Brad as she begins to take her shoes and socks off. “Bill really knows how to make me smile!” Kim says, bursting into a girlish giggle. Bill gives Brad a knowing smile, shaking his head at him as if to say “You idiot, you don’t know what you threw away that night!” as they drive off. A final year of high school together is a lot of laughter, as is 4 years of college. So is a life afterwards, and more than once Bill tickling Kim’s feet would result in her getting pregnant, giggling all the way to the maternity ward.
Epilogue:
At the 15 year Mansfield High School reunion Kim Zielks, looking as pretty as ever, runs into to a slightly overweight and three-times-divorced Laura Cook. They share the usual shallow small talk reserved for such instances where people have grown apart and show off photos of their children. Kim finally says “You know Laura, the best thing you ever did for me was to take off with Brad that night. Bill and I have two beautiful sons and a daughter and we just got back from a wonderful tour in Germany. Here comes my husband now!” Kim smiles with delight as a deflated Laura looks on. Approaching is a handsome U.S. Air Force pilot wearing the gold oak leaves of a Major on his shoulders. “Hello again Laura, nice to see you again-and thank you!” Bill says as he takes Kim’s hand. Brad Ramsey is nowhere to be seen.
Prologue:
November nights in Louisiana can be very cool, and tonight the breeze is chilly. It’s Friday night. Football night at Mansfield High School and the final home game of the year. They’re trailing Logansport by two points with a playoff spot on the line. The local radio station broadcaster announces “Time out for the Wolverines with two seconds left showing on the clock!” Coach Washington screams “Field goal team, GO!” Bill Zielks, the kicker, pulls on his helmet and sprints to the field. A blue collar boy on a team with mostly white collar family players, he is looked down on both for his position and social status. He puts up with being called a redneck and the jokes about his funny Polish name, but he is grimly determined to do his job for the team. They line up, and a forty-five-yard field goal challenges him. He’s done it in practice but this is his first attempt in real play, never having been called upon to perform this task. Forty-five yards and two seconds, an eternity when your team’s entire season is on the line. The holder calls out “Set, HUT!”. Bill kicks the ball just as a two-hundred-pound defensive tackle smashes into him and he crashes to the ground, his helmet ripped off, bleeding from a gash to his right cheek. A whistle blows, flag on the play. The home crowd screams in joy as the referee announces “Personal foul-roughing the kicker. The penalty is declined, the field goal is good, the game is over!” Final score: Mansfield 24-Logansport 23. The team physician, Dr Wilcox, is out on the field checking the fallen kicker. “Bill? Can you hear me? Bill? How many fingers am I holding up Bill?”. “Two doc, OWWWW….” he groans as Doctor Wilcox cleans and stitches up the gash in his face…
Now showered and dressed in his so-called redneck uniform; jeans, cowboy boots, a flannel shirt and Number Three Dale Earnhardt NASCAR ball cap tipped back on his aching head, Bill Zielks walks from the locker room down the hall of the school, his cheek smarting from the combination of the gash and the stitches. His head is still throbbing from being knocked to the ground by an overzealous defensive lineman. Doctor Wilcox told him to come in three days or right away if he showed any signs of infection in his face, and he said he would. Friday night. No date as usual and the First Methodist Church is having a post-game dance. One of the many things about rednecks is that they never can get the pretty, popular girls to go out with them. The clop of his boots echoes in the empty hall, as if to remind him that he is alone. Suddenly, Bill sees Kim Hall, the head cheerleader walking toward him. Kim, without a doubt one of the most beautiful girls to bless Mansfield High School. Very pretty in her cheerleader uniform with its short skirt, pom-pom socks and sneakers. His eyes lit up every time he saw her-too bad she looked down her nose at him. Long blonde hair, crystal blue-eyes, a perfect pair of legs and beautiful feet Bill had seen in sandals one spring. He’d always wondered what it would be like to take those shoes off and tickle those pretty feet, imagining her laughter in his mind. Kim, girlfriend of team quarterback Brad Ramsey and one of the most stuck-up girls to curse Mansfield High School as well. Kim, her dad the owner of the town newspaper and an upper-class type. Smiling shyly, “H’lo Kim.” he says, his eyes directed down. “Bill.” is all that Kim replies, her nose turned up. “Did you enjoy the game Kim?” Bill says. Tossing her hair, “Brad threw two touchdowns and ran for another, he was so great!” Yeah, no acknowledgement of his game-winning field goal-not that he expected any, even though his three extra points and field goal equaled the number of points Brad had scored. After all, he was just a lowly kicker with a dad who was a retired Navy Chief Petty Officer and now worked as an electrician-a blue collar kid with a pickup truck and not a fancy car. “See you at the church dance?” Bill says. “Perhaps.” Kim arrogantly retorts, flipping her head so her hair swirls around her face. “Later!”
Head down, lonely, Bill heads to his truck. Reaching under the seat, he pulls a bottle of whiskey out, cracks the seal, and takes a long swig. The alcohol has a calming effect, dulling the pain in his face and his heart as well. Another thing about the redneck boys is that they can always find a way to get booze. “Another long Friday night.” He sighs. One more long pull on the whiskey bottle. No sense going to the dance. He twists the key to Accessory and the sound of the local Southern rock station softly fills the cab of the truck.
Suddenly, he is startled by the sound of a girl crying bitterly. Another pull of whiskey and he hops out of the truck to see what’s wrong. There, sitting on the sidewalk is Kim sobbing, her arms wrapped around her knees rocking back and forth seeking comfort that she could not find.
“Kim, are you okay?” Bill says, alarmed that someone has tried to hurt her. Someone has, just not the way Bill thinks right now. Looking up at him, tears streaming down her pretty face, her expression is one of both shock, anger and deep sorrow. “B-b-bill? I-I just caught B-brad making out with th-that fucking majorette L-l-laura Cook from the band! That fucking b-bitch! They just drove off! He-he w-was going to take m-me home tonight!” She began to wail piteously.
Another thing about being a blue-collar redneck boy is that you’re taught compassion no matter how people treat you. Having good manners is just Southern working-class tradition, and an honorable one at that. Bill’s dad had constantly told him “Son, if you can help those who are helpless and dry the tears of those that weep, in the end people will say that you were an honorable and chivalrous man.”, and chivalry ran deep in the veins of Bill Zielks tonight. Bill held out his hand. “Kim, come on. I’ll take you home-if you want to.” It was both funny and strange how Kim looked up at him now with tear-filled eyes and a little girl expression on her face that was both heartbreaking and adorable at the same time, and took his hand. It felt so soft and warm.
Kim got into Bill’s truck and sat, her head down, snuffling and sobbing quietly. Bill wiped her cheeks gently with his bandanna handkerchief, then handed it to her. He nervously took another pull of whiskey, then passed her the bottle and was pleasantly surprised when she took a long swig. “Bastard!” she said, then turned to him. “Thank you Bill. I’m so sorry I treated you badly. You’re really sweet. Oh god, I could sure use a good laugh right now.” She took another long swig of the whiskey. A good laugh right now. Bill thought about those pretty feet he’d once seen in sandals, thought about seeing those feet bare, envisioned a smile on Kim’s face and the sound of ticklish laughter coming from her lips, and the gears in his head began to spin faster.
Grinning slyly, Bill said “You know Kim, I think I can arrange that!” as he bent and took her left leg into his lap. He began to unlace her sneaker. Her eyes widened, but due to the combined effects of the alcohol and her shock, she was unable to resist. “B-bill, what are you doing?”. “You said you could use a good laugh, Kim.” Bill said as he evilly smiled and tugged off her sneaker. “So, I’m going to make you laugh!”. He peeled off her pom-pom sock, baring her foot. Her toenails were painted a hot pink, only accentuating how pretty they were as they wiggled. “My, what a pretty foot you have Kim, is it ticklish?” Kim’s pretty eyes grew even wider and she began to grin involuntarily. A nervous snicker bubbled up from within her. “Oh B-bill n-no! I-I’m very ticklish, no please!” More giggles.
“Hey now, I haven’t even touched your foot-yet, but I plan on tickling you as pink as your toenails are!”. Kim giggled and smiled even more, trying to squirm out of Bill’s strong, yet gentle grasp on her ankle to no avail. With that, Bill began to gently caress Kim’s bare sole, softly stroking up and down it as if he was playing his guitar. Her sole was soft, warm and moist. Now free of the sock and sneaker that held it, it was very sensitive. Her naked foot was the musical instrument and her laughter was the music. Kim giggled and squealed, grinning broadly. Bill continued tickling Kim’s sole, softly. Lightly stroking her arch with a feathery touch and making lazy circles on the ball of her foot, he tickled underneath her toes where they joined the foot and the toe pads as well as Kim laughed and squirmed. The tears rolling down her face now were not ones of sadness.
“ Now, let’s not neglect the other one!” said Bill as he grabbed her other ankle and stripped her right foot of its shoe and sock. He licked the sole and toes as Kim squealed and giggled with delight and then he did the same to her left foot. She howled with laughter slapping her hands on the seat of the truck. Never had he seen such a beautiful smile as she wore now.
He stopped tickling her to let her catch her breath and she grabbed and kissed him hard. “Bill, I-I just came in my pants! Bill-please-Bill-please-please-fuck me-fuck me hard and tickle me-please-fuck-tickle-me-please!” she panted breathlessly, kissing him again and again, running her hand on the now hardening crotch of his jeans. Bill quickly pulled off her panties and put her on her knees on the truck seat. He unzipped and dropped his jeans and slid his now hard dick into her drooling pussy. Reaching between her legs, he brought one hand around to tickle her clit as the other went down to tickle her bare soles now facing up, alternating tickling each foot as she giggled, bucked her ass against his dick and squealed. “GIGGLE-GIGGLE, SQUEEEAAALLL! AAAHAHAHA I’M COMING AAAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!” Kim shrieked with laughter. The feel of her warm, wet pussy, the sight of her wiggling toes, combined with the sound of her giggling orgasm and bucking ass was more that Bill could take. He groaned with pleasure as his sperm squirted into her.
Bill and Kim cuddle and kiss in his truck. Deep kisses. Sloppy-wet-drooling-tongue kisses. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Bill Zielks” said Kim, smiling. “I’ve always loved you from afar Kim, but now I can say that I love you too.” Bill said, smiling back. More kisses. “The church dance?” says Bill. “No.” says Kim, giggling, as she places both bare feet into his lap, wiggling her pretty toes as she strokes his now re-hardening dick with them. Once again in the cab of his truck, and many times in the future, Bill brings a smile to Kim’s face and laughter to her voice. Finally driving Kim home, Bill pulls into his family’s driveway. Exiting his truck, he falls to his knees and thanks his God for bringing Kim into his life. This time the tears falling are his-tears of joy as he gives thanks to his Lord. One more thing about rednecks is that they are grateful for what they have, a lesson Brad Ramsey may never learn.
Mansfield High School went on to win the state championship that year-by a field goal in the final seconds of the game. Finally, Bill got the recognition he richly deserved and had someone that loved him regardless of his status. A week after football season had ended, Bill and Kim were walking to his truck when Brad Ramsey runs yelling to Kim. “Kim! Kim! Can we talk?”. “There’s nothing to talk about Brad. We’re finished.”, she says. “You’ve got Laura and I’ve got Bill.” An exasperated Brad says “Laura dumped me, I made a mistake and I’m so, so sorry! Can’t we make up? What could you see in Zielks here? He’s just a stupid Polak kicker and a redneck!” Bill quietly opens the door and Kim gets into his truck. She turns to Brad as she begins to take her shoes and socks off. “Bill really knows how to make me smile!” Kim says, bursting into a girlish giggle. Bill gives Brad a knowing smile, shaking his head at him as if to say “You idiot, you don’t know what you threw away that night!” as they drive off. A final year of high school together is a lot of laughter, as is 4 years of college. So is a life afterwards, and more than once Bill tickling Kim’s feet would result in her getting pregnant, giggling all the way to the maternity ward.
Epilogue:
At the 15 year Mansfield High School reunion Kim Zielks, looking as pretty as ever, runs into to a slightly overweight and three-times-divorced Laura Cook. They share the usual shallow small talk reserved for such instances where people have grown apart and show off photos of their children. Kim finally says “You know Laura, the best thing you ever did for me was to take off with Brad that night. Bill and I have two beautiful sons and a daughter and we just got back from a wonderful tour in Germany. Here comes my husband now!” Kim smiles with delight as a deflated Laura looks on. Approaching is a handsome U.S. Air Force pilot wearing the gold oak leaves of a Major on his shoulders. “Hello again Laura, nice to see you again-and thank you!” Bill says as he takes Kim’s hand. Brad Ramsey is nowhere to be seen.
