It wasn’t as if the previous mom that took care of things had just left me a mess to sort out on my own. As I maneuvered my chubby hips through the clutter I found the ‘bible’ on the shelf near the register. It contained the list of contacts for bread, meat, soda and water delivery, ice, and even secondary numbers to call in case the first providers couldn’t fill complete orders or were unable to at all. There was a calendar of the previous years events that showed what had been assumed to be sufficient, where too much had been ordered and where too little was on hand. It would be a great help in figuring out what this season would require. I called around and introduced myself as I leaned against the outside wall, because it was still musty and dank inside and the clutter was driving me crazy. From time to time a couple of the players would find their way over to hide in the shade, smile at me, and ask if I was up and running and had any cold Gatorade on hand. I would apologize but made a mental note to make sure I did the next time if I was asked.
The vendors I spoke with were used to the routine and agreed to the same terms of commitment from the previous year. A rep would stop by during the next few days and go over the orders, time frames of delivery and even a buyback on items not sold if need be. I was beginning to feel less pressure and started to relax a little. The ice man said he could stock the chest in the morning so there would be enough for the upcoming month. I agreed to meet and let him in. He was confused. “Isn’t the box sitting outside ?, my guy has the padlock key”. I looked around and informed him it was inside the building. “Bring it out and put it ‘round back’, we fill it as needed, no need to call us, you’re on our route. You only call if you run out, but that shouldn’t happen, but make sure you keep it connected to a power source”. That seemed logical but now I’m looking at this massive double door chest that someone has squeezed inside of the building for safe keeping. I’d love to see it out of here so I can start sweeping and cleaning. I can’t move it though.
I start out small. There are rakes and shovels, a small snow thrower, a ladder, some lumber and other loose items I have no use for or no room for. I begin removing them first. There is a very tall muscular black boy who asks if I need help. “Could you go to the groundskeepers shed and ask someone to get these items ?” I ask , not wanting to press him into cleaning up when he should be practicing. He nods and looks around. Some skinny freshmen are leaving the school building and are on their way home presumably. He confronts them and orders them to do what I just asked of him. “Yes sir” one barks and runs off to carry out his command. “Impressive !” I laugh “I can’t get my son to move that fast for me”. He looks over and winks. “Anything else ?” He asks. “Know anyone who can move an empty ice chest ?” and before I could finish asking he was whistling for another to show up.
This was a large boy. When I say large I mean, well shit, I don’t think I’d ever stood near a grown man that was this large. Big, tall, long blond haired, white kid whose arms seemed to be as, well I have nothing to compare them with. My first thought was of my husband and how slim and short he was. Traits than my 14 year old son shared with him. This man child stood like a mighty tree in the doorway. “Let’s move this for the lady” the black kid said, and I watched in amazement as the ice chest was pushed, walked, lifted, and set in place on a concrete pad outside just waiting for its return.
At this point I should say that I never found out the names of those boys. The black kid wore jersey 68 and man mountain boy wore jersey 67. That’s all I know and even if I knew more I’m going to protect their identity. Why ?
Because what the three of us did together might be considered a crime in some states and I wouldn’t want them hurt in any manner.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/el0tqj/sports_moms_chpt_2_age_gap