“All right, listen up, you idiots. We get six lanes—the odd numbered ones. That means nine and ten to a lane. Lanes one, three, five, and nine wil... be led by Rick, Don, Joe, and Bill. Line up here so we get organized. Lane seven will be Benny the Bunny.” We all laughed. Benny was a hot miler but he couldn’t hold his speed through a whole 5k. He was our rabbit and would set the pace for our front runners off the line. “Lane eleven—way out there on the edge—Jacob leads. He’ll be running just like. “A proper good bye?” I teased. “To me that means a good screwing by my big stud.”“Damned straight it does,” Jenny agreed.“No objections from me,” Jordan grinned.“Or me,” Josh agreed.We turned the tools and wheel barrows in at the camp’s equipment shed. Jordan and I both grabbed towels to take along for our afternoon tryst. We headed back to the little meadow where Jordan took my cherry Monday evening. There was no way Mrs. Strandsberg could find us there, in case she noticed we were missing. More

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