Oral arguments

John recalled once reading a magazine article that had claimed that 90% of the human race enjoys a certain "cunning" form of recreation that remains illegal in 19 states, and that women outside those 19 states report significantly lower rates of depression than those within. The magazine had admittedly been a rather dodgy publication and definitely not part of his usual literary repertoire, but that hadn't stopped him from seriously wishing he hadn't been relegated to the unfortunate 10%. At the time, he hadn't really imagined any opportunities for a career change in that regard, but at that time he had certainly not imagined finding himself in his present situation. He was also keenly aware that Hawaii was not among the aforementioned 19 states. He decided that such magnanimous freedoms should not go unexercised.

Nervously, he pushed his face forward until he was just inches from her divide. Ever so delicately, he kissed the warm mass of flesh, extending his tongue hesitantly. He wasn't sure what to expect. Maybe a weird taste or some other objectionable sensation? But it wasn't anything like that. It actually sort of reminded him of the time he'd gone hiking up Mt. Rainier alone and drank from a little alpine spring he'd come across all surrounded by scented clover. At the time, he'd expected a mouth full of grit, but instead he'd been treated to the clearest, most refreshing liquid he'd ever tasted. There had been something so pure and personal about that moment. This was like that. There was a deeply pleasing aroma to her that was somehow uniquely her. It was surprisingly alluring.

Her reaction, on the other hand, was somewhat less definitive. Her hips scooted back away from him on the bed, surprised by the strange sensation. But just as he was about to retreat back to his hiding place in disgrace, they pushed forward again, her legs widening in cautious willingness.

He responded by moving his head back into position, and then slowly slid his tongue around the outskirts of her awakening valley, methodically following the contours of one fold, then circuiting to the other, then wandering one winding trail, then another.

"... but I think we should... carefully think about hooohooohooo-how we sh... oh...." Tanya valiantly struggled to keep pace with the conversation.

"I can see you're really emotional about this," returned Coach Vanessa's voice circumspectly. "I'm proud of you. You've really grown to care about the team, haven't you?"

He swirled his tongue lazily, touching each crevice, finally approaching the nub at the center of her range with a tender massage of feather-light flicks. Technique-wise, he really had no idea whether what he was doing was pathetically ineffective or brilliantly inspired. He feared the former. But the progressively firmer pressure of her hips against his face seemed somewhat reassuring.

"Oh... god, yes..."

That sounded positive, he thought.

"That's how I feel too, you know. You girls are like sisters to me," Vanessa blathered on while nobody listened. "But we still have to make a decision. Someone has to go first in the lineup. Who would you pick?"

Just then he felt a strange tremor under his tongue and Tanya's stomach muscles stiffened. He froze uncertainly, mid motion. For several seconds the room was awkwardly silent.

"Take your time..." Vanessa protracted.

It seemed like forever before Tanya eventually responded. "Nnnngaaaa..." she finally vocalized after at least ten very long seconds of suspense. Her muscles unclenched and she slumped forward just a degree or two.

"I agree completely!" crowed Vanessa, still rambling on about who-knows-what. "Inga has the most polished routine, and I really think she'll set the bar high for the others. I'm so glad we agree. And I really appreciate you thinking so carefully about it and not making a snap decision."

He felt Tanya's shoulders shrug weakly.

"Great! Oh, we're going to be late. You better change so we can get going."

John scrambled back under the bed frantically, hiding himself just as Tanya managed to stumble to her feet, raising the curtain that had offered his only concealment just a second ago.

"Hey, are you alright?" Vanessa braced her, concerned as she tottered a little.

"Oh... yeah... musta just... been sitting funny," Tanya explained between sighs of fatigue.

Tanya ambled into the bathroom and Vanessa waited by the door while she changed. When she emerged, she seemed a little more coherent.

"The other girls are already downstairs waiting," said Vanessa, "Do you know if John is coming?"

"I'm pretty certain he will later," replied Tanya. And then the two exited, leaving him alone in the room.