The Sportin' Life Read Online Free Page A

The Sportin' Life
Book: The Sportin' Life Read Online Free
Author: Nancy Frederick
Pages:
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something to risk. It ’ s a fairly typical story, I guess. In fact, I can safely say that my ex is probably the one woman on the East Coast that Kevin never fucked. I figure he ran out of babes there and that ’ s why he had to come here — to look for fresh blood, like a thirsty vampire growing desperate in a convention of anemics.
    He ought to face facts — which is that he is a bachelor, stud, Don Juan son of a bitch who has about as much chance of making a commitment to one woman as a pigeon does to a fairy named Tinkerbelle. Where would he get his constant reinforcements if he had to go off babes? He ’ d cheat, that ’ s where and then some broad would have a full time broken heart instead of the temporary, recoverable ones he usually dishes out like bon bons at a party. I figure that ol ’ Kevin and I are due for a parting of the ways soon, because I ’ m pushing fifty and I just don ’ t have the same satisfaction from rotating women that he gets. Fuck no. If I could find a decent girl who ’ d see me as God, just kidding, but as someone who ’ s what she really wants — emotionally and physically — then I know I ’ d settle down. Well, I think I would. As long as she ’ d sign a fucking prenup and as long as she took my mind completely off the fact that everyone else is a foot closer to heaven just by standing up in their stocking feet, while I have to keep reaching for it all the time.

 
    Kevin
     
    Team Spirit
     
    When I told Lou I was moving to L.A. , he laughed and said, “ What ’ samatter, Kevin, run out of women on the East Coast? ” I don ’ t know why he sees me as such a womanizer because the truth is that all I ’ m looking for is the one perfect woman for me and then I want to settle down and spend the rest of my life with her. Right now I ’ m just interviewing, so to speak.
    I love women. I love the feel of them in my arms, the softness of their flesh, the curves of their bodies, the time they take fussing to be beautiful, the makeup that they paint their faces with, the silky things they wear to please me, the light in their eyes when I enter the room. I love holding them and undressing them, making love to them. And, yes, I ’ ve had a lot of women. I ’ ve had many more women than the number of a whole football team, more even than a league, probably more than all the leagues currently out here. Maybe more than that.
    Liana once asked me if I had any fantasies and I had to say that no, not really, and that was because I had lived most of my fantasies out. I told her about the time I was in Vegas for a business meeting and my boss and I were out on the town drinking. He was this older, married guy, poor slob, and this was his once chance for some glory. We were hitting all the bars and strip joints, and really I was acting as his guide, his mentor, someone who knew the ropes in the singles ’ scene, although in actual fact I would never frequent places like that looking for women because there are so many available in all normal walks of life.
    Anyway, I guess he kind of envied me because I was footloose and fancy free and everything that he was not. We went into this one strip joint and sat down at a table to watch the dancers. We ordered drinks and I could see that this was his fantasy, although I was really a little bored. It ’ s a bit tawdry, that scene.
    The girls were doing their thing and he was watching them with an appreciation that I usually reserve for a fine brandy. We laughed and talked and had a little non-threatening, non-professional male bonding. The one girl in the center was rather spectacular. She was tiny and lithe, with long, curly platinum hair and the most amazing set of fake breasts I had ever seen, if you like that sort of thing. She seemed to be dancing straight at us, and that turned my boss on even more.
    After she finished her set, she disappeared backstage for a moment and then reappeared in a flimsy dress or robe or cover-up of some kind
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