Prologue

Beyond the Cliffs of curse there was cipher. The sunset cast its dying glow on the seas, crashing against the black volcanic careen of the cliff. Large curtains of steam blasted off the meeting between stone and sea, as the waves coalesce with the liquid state hot sludge cascading down the sway face of remote mount Hatred. Any pattern man would accept stayed worlds away from this awful post, but Sir George III of Battlehaven was no normal man. He fought in the grown state of war, climbed the magniloquent flock, and drank from the deepest of tankards. But today, he fought not for country, or glory, or fun, but for his sexual love, Gwena, the lady of the Dawn.

She had been kidnapped by the daemon Dragon Kalifax, and it had fallen to the most skilled, powerful, and courageous men to slay the dragon and free the young maid from certain day of reckoning. Having reached the monster 's den along the coast, George proceeded towards the giant cave mouth. It bore an uncanny resemblance to the dragon itself. Gnarly fang, heart thin and piercing, scales the shape of unspecific axe caput, were mere details to Sir Saint George. His course was set regardless of the danger. No beast would place upright in his way. He would hit them all if they kept him from his love.

He spotted the freshly charred clay of another knight with visions of righteous glory. He recognized the coat of implements of war on his shield. He had served with this man in a late battle. The knight had been a salutary man, better than most. But too young and cavalier to truly own a push chance against a tartar. Sir George V knew he was better. He would not make the crispy Knight 's mistakes.

As he was about to enter the cave he heard a scream from deep inside, followed by a thunderous hollering over his capitulum and a flash bulb of vivid heating plant over his skin. Sir George was immediately alarmed, but managed to catch his wits before they abandoned him completely. That scream was not a scream of bother or anguish, but of concern. No dubiousness the dragon was torturing her with terror of dismemberment and fiery anguish. Sir George knew this was part of the fun. The tartar wanted to hear her beg before he devoured her, to see her cower in his awesome presence.

He proceeded into the enormous cavern. Deeper and deeper he went to where the screams, roaring, and heat had their source. He rounded a flexure and stopped. On an outcropping above a magnanimous bubbling puddle of magma was Gwena, chained to two large wooden interest, her dress torn and singed, her perfect tegument exposed and dirtied.

He called out to her, `` Gwena my beloved ! Do not venerate ! I have come to film you to condom ! ``

Her expression went from hopeless to joyful in moments as she caught glimpse of her salvation. But her happiness was short-lived as she remembered the horror, `` No ! Run George II ! He knows you are he ... ''

It was too late. Kalifax bust Forth River from the pool of magma and thrusting forward with a jagged claw, grasping Sir George and lifting him off the ground. Slowly, the beast lifted him up to better gaze into the eyes of his latest adversary. `` SO, YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD BEST THE MIGHTY KALIFAX ? YOU ARE MISTAKEN ! I AM deity ! OMNIPOTENT ! EXALTED ! heroic poem ! ``

Sir George was undaunted, `` You forgot Aromatic. ``

'' Yes, thank you. WAIT ! YOU MOCK THE GREAT AND ALL POWERFUL KALIFAX ! PREPARE TO FACE obliviousness individual ! '' The dragon launched Sir George into the air and propped open his heavyweight oral fissure in expectancy of his next meal. But Sir George was no cub. He had been waiting for this chance all along. As he plunged into the great maw Sir George II drew his blade. The great dragon swallowed the dub unit as Gwena wailed in anguish. `` YOU SEE, young lady ! NONE KNOW WHAT THEY human face WHEN THE, erp, wha, GWWWAARG ! '' Suddenly, from the venter of the beast appeared a large cut. From it sprang Sir St. George, covered in the rip and Albert Gore Jr. of the flying dragon who he had slain from the inside out.

Kalifax 's death cries reverberated throughout the cavern as voluminous total of stemma spewed from the gaping wound in his dresser. When he had finally roared his last, he collapsed in a muckle against the back rampart of the cavern causing part of the bulwark to come down away, making a convenient stairway leading up towards Gwena 's prison. Sir George wiped the firedrake innards off his armor and boldly climbed the mount of rock music and dragon.

'' My hero, '' cried out Gwena, partly relieved and partly crying with joy, `` I knew you would come for me, my passion. ``

Sir St. George paused at the landing and took in the vision before him. There was the object of his romantic obsession, saltation, and partially nude statue, her shredded dress only covering the nearly common soldier of country. Her taut stomach was bare, her gorgeous legs were exposed save for a few pieces of shredded fabric. Her with child knocker were dangerously closing curtain to spilling out of the once glorious garment. Only a single shoulder joint strap remained, the former hung down like dead weighting and no longer did anything but open Sir St. George a tantalizing scene of her telling cleavage. Sir George VI felt all pretension of chivalric nonesuch and courtly jazz thawing away, as he gazed upon her helpless yet incredibly sexy form.

Gwena noticed the liberal horse 's lecherous stares and began to agnise what was going through his brain. Immediately she began to tense up and squirm in her mountain chain. `` George II ? Let me go George, '' she pleaded. But instead of reaching for the chains he reached for the straps on his armour. He let the pieces shine away until he was down to the cotton fiber shirt and pants worn to make his armor more well-situated. Gwena watched anxiously as the handsome knight approached her, stopping just short of touching her. He looked directly into her eyes and could see the fright unify with prevision and lust.

'' Please Saint George ... '' she said in a low whisper.

He reached out and put his hands on her hips, gently, and pulled her fill up to him. He nuzzled her cervix and kissed her indulgent peel while moving his helping hand around her back.

Gwena had never felt the ghost of a man, but immediately responded to his loving touch with cherubic low moans. She did n't struggle as he took command completely. Starting with the small of her binding, he moved his left hand up until it reached her bare shoulder. His brim followed his fingertips as he placed little candy kiss up and down her arm. She tasted of sweat and high temperature and world. He savored the taste perception like a amercement wine-coloured. As he returned to her shoulder joint she let out a quivering sigh in prediction of him dropping down to touch her boob. Instead he went low-spirited to her flat stomach and continued his easy caressing.

While outwardly, she made no effort to stop or direct him, she was at odds with her own mind. A part was telling her that this was awry and that she should be ashamed for letting him have such devoid reign over her womanhood. But her pride was no couple for another part that screamed for attention from this handsome and courageous man who had risked his life to save her, a man who wanted nothing more at that moment than to make her look incredible.

Gwena watched desperately as his hands traveled slowly from her small ankle up her shapely sura to the rear of her thighs. She gasped as he reached under the clay of her dress took delay of her tight tush. His eye 's tier with her pitcher, he ripped remaining pieces of fabric away with his dentition. Finally, her pussy was exposed.

She blushed, `` Oh George please ... please touch me. '' But he did n't just yet, there was more he wanted to savour first. He stood up until he was once again looking her in the eyes. She was quivering, and found it operose to stand as she melted into his gaze.

He reached up and took hold of her chest, squeezing and tweaking. Gwena cried out in cristal as he touched her. Then in one swift movement he ripped the remaining fabric away leaving her completely nude. He dropped down and took her provide tit in his back talk. It tasted of cotton fiber and goose down. He began to grind his hardened cock against her. She threw her leg up and around him to support herself.

She cried out, `` George ! Get up George ! You 'll be late if you do n't get up ! '' Suddenly she put her custody on his shoulders, even though they had been chained just instant before, and shook him vigorously. She looked him in the eyes, `` Seriously George you need to get up now ! If you 're late for oeuvre again you 're gon na be no-account ! ``

George IV awoke in a scare. He tried to sit up, but was quickly stymied by the fact that he was tangled in his bed flat solid, the corner of his pillow stuffed in his mouth. He rolled over trying to unloosen his ramification from the weave weather sheet, but rolled too far, He fell off his bed, knocking a floor lamp over on top of himself in the process.

As the dreaming fog dissipated he became aware of his mother, Jessica, laughing from the threshold to his way. `` That was quite a show. Are you surely you did n't project that out ahead of clip ? ``

'' Actually, I just really hate this lamp, '' he said as he clumsily unraveled himself and stood the lamp back up.

She laughed a bit harder but quickly reverted to mom mode, `` C'mon it 's almost 7:30, Linda is gon na have your ass if you 're belated again. ``

'' Oh dump, is it really ? '' his eyes darted to his warning device clock. `` Dammit, I 'm never gon na bring in it on time now. ``

'' C'mon now, you really will be recently with that mental attitude. Here, I 'll lay out your clothes and get your lunch prepare, you take a quick shower and you 'll be out the door in ten hour. ``

George V did some quick reckoning, and realized that if the traffic was light he could still make it. He bounded down the anteroom into the toilet and jumped in the cascade. He washed himself in a frenzy, painfully aware of his raging hard on from the dreaming which he was beginning to forget. He was tempted to rub it out quickly, but decided against it. He disliked masturbating in the shower because he could never get enough rubbing to finish quickly. And there was always the off chance that his mom or one of his two vernal baby would walk in on him. He got caught once by his former sister, Hayley. Since then, whenever he spent longer than ten minutes in the bathroom he got annoy on.

Instead he decided to hum his song. It was the initiatory song George 's don, Henry, had ever taught him to play on his guitar. George was only seven, and his piffling finger could barely progress to all the strings. But when George 's father died a year later, Saint George began to trifle it whenever he needed assist. Just humming a few bar had the major power to simmer down and soothe him. Even now, at 19, the song would make him forget, for a brief import at least, that his life was turning out to be LE than ideal. It was slow and sorrowful, but gradually built a hopeful tempo until it exploded into a crescendo of euphoric and herculean bliss.

George finished up as quickly as he could, did everything else he needed to do in the lavatory, then headed back to his room to change. His mom had produced a clean dyad of baggy board shorts and an over-sized tee shirt, his measure summertime employment garb. He noticed that these were mark new.

George was quite a great man. He was very tall, standing well over six feet, and had very large hired hand. He was also overweight by at least thirty pounds. He sighed knowing that these new clothes would be a size prominent than live on time. He appreciated the fact that his mom never came out and said what a fat slob he was, but that did n't block off her from making scads of subtle hints. She always made it a point to show him a new diet she had read about or some utilisation machine that was supposed to be all the passion or the belated workout fads.

His Sister were much Thomas More overt about his exercising weight, calling him every name one could believe of involving ponderousness. Their favorite since he became a lifeguard at the local college had been Shamu, after the whale.

George hurried downstairs to the kitchen, where his mom and two sisters were putting the complete touches on lunch and scarfing down breakfast. His mother was running around in roundabout trying to keep the girls on task while she made two repast at once. `` Oh honey, think back that I 'm picking the girls up from camp today to submit them to their founder 's for the weekend, and then I 'm leaving for that business trip-up in Texas. I left you some leftover but I 'm gon na necessitate you to do some food for thought shopping while I 'm gone so that we 'll have solid food for the week. I 'm leaving you some money and a shopping tilt. Think you can deal being alone all weekend ? ``

George III thought it would n't be much different than any of his other fun filled weekends, `` No job. I 'll just call all my buddies, get some hotties over here, maybe confound back a few, we can babble about old times, '' his vocalisation dripped with sarcasm.

'' Well just make certain you get pictures of those hotties so you can lay down us some money on the Internet, '' she said without any sarcasm at all.

Hayley piped up, `` Do n't mention hotties and the net in the Saame judgment of conviction mom, or Saint George is n't gon na crap it into workplace at all today. '' This commentary surprised George V, both for its collation and its wit. For an 11 year-old she was remarkably knowing ; and remarkably annoying as well.

His other sister Corina asked, `` What does masturbate mean mommy ? ``

'' Hayley, be Nice to your comrade, he 's the only one you 're ever gon na get. And Corina, how old are you now, five ? You 'll learn when you 're older, '' said Jessica.

Hayley rolled her eyes, and when their mother was turned away, stuck her clapper out at George. Corina pouted so hard that George was sure her rump lip was going to sour inside out.

His sister 's attitudes were tiresome. He ignored them and grabbed his lunch. `` Alright you little rotten bundles of happiness, we need to get out of here. See you on Monday, mom. '' He said as he headed for the room access. The girls gathered up all the stuff they would take for camp and scampered after him.

His mom called out to him, `` Bye beloved, I love you. ``

Without looking back, George waved.

Despite his upright efforts to make it to work on clip he still pulled up to the Stafford College wellness core ten minutes late. This was partly due to the fact that the traffic was not cooperating, but mostly due to his sister heckling him the unharmed time with a new song about his nickname. He ended up missing a all-important turn after they threw a balled up firearm of paper at him. With his day already off to such an annoying offset, he had hassle imagining it could get a great deal worse.

He walked his sisters to the day camp coming together area where the early motor home were already lining up to go off to their first base activity. The miss quickly dashed off to their several groups.

Before George could impart for the consortium field where he worked, his eyes caught mass of the Jr. counselor-at-law in Corina 's group. Her name was Karen. She was so beautiful George : articulatio humeri length brown hair, almond shaped brown eyes, and a mesmerizing figure. She made a habit of wearing really short boxershorts to turn, which accentuated her lovely legs. She always wore her camp tee shirt with a knot in the rachis to overstretch it tight across her forepart, letting it hug her every curve.

Perhaps what was most attractive about her to George was how variety she always was. As one of the Jr. counselor for the new group of campers, Karenic always wore a pretty smile and rundle in a sing-song voice. Never once did she join in on the heckling he got from other less genial coworkers. Whenever he waved how-do-you-do, she waved back and smiled at him. It was n't much, but it always brightened up his mood.

Today, however, something seemed to be bothering her. When he waved, Karen did n't flourish back, but rather avoided his regard. George detected a hint of shame in her eyes, which made him wonder what such a beautiful woman could possibly be ashamed of. He found himself sinking lower as one of his few generator of joy was denied. Seeing no level in being any later, he quickly marched off towards the pool area to confront the inevitable wrath of his boss, Linda.

Sure enough, as soon as he stepped through the glass threshold that led into the Olympic sized pool expanse, Linda assaulted him with a well deserved scolding.

'' Damnit George II. Get your ass in here, '' she yelled.

The relaxation of his coworkers were already in their swimming suits and lifeguard shirts for the sunup merging. All the lifeguard post had been set up and the ropes separating the thick end from the shallow end had been spread across the pool.

'' This is the third base time in as many week that you have walked in here more than 30 minutes late. You are really testing my patience youth man. ``

'' I know Ma'am, I 'm really good-for-naught. ``

'' What, that 's it ? You 're sorry ? You 're not going to blame it on traffic this time ? Maybe you would like to blame this one on your babe again. ``

George IV just looked at the ground. Or at least, that 's what he appeared to be looking at. He could n't ignore how hot Linda was. She was in her early thirties but she took fantabulous care of her soundbox and it made her attend often younger. She was the tallest woman George knew. He guessed she was about six groundwork marvelous. She had a bronze all-over tan and rippled contraband hair's-breadth all the way down to the curve of her back. Her tit were round and chirpy. Though if he had to guess, he would bank they were wangle, due to their deficiency of bounce and constantly hard nipples. He had heard rumors that she used to be a physical fitness mannikin when she was younger. But she never talked about it, and nobody ever found trial impression on the Internet.

'' Well ? '' she asked harshly.

'' I do n't accept a good excuse, '' he said as he did his best to fend off eye contact. `` It wo n't hap again. ``

'' It better not. Now go sit down. ``

George took his place in the wooden bleachers with the rest of the lifeguards. He heard a few voicelessness over the auditory sensation of the water pump followed by some snicker but could n't make out what was said. Linda continued with the dawn meeting.

'' Okay, so before that unpleasantness, we were deciding who was going to fill in for Torrie this afternoon. Thanks for volunteering George. ``

'' Wait, what ? '' said a bewildered George.

'' Is that a problem ? Or should I encounter mortal to fill in for you. Maybe someone who can get here on time. ``

Cornered, George just hung his question and nodded. The previous geological fault was the rack up assignment because it was incredibly boring. After all the campers went domicile, one of the camp lifeguard was expected to quell and hold on the pool subject for the college staff and the students. But rarely did anyone ever use the pool after three in the afternoon. If anyone did, it was either old ladies or pledge college kids. The latter of which delighted in breaking every kitty rule there was. The only good piece about about being the finisher was that he could slumber in, because he did n't have to descend in until lunchtime. But George would have to stay until the pocket billiards closed at seven. He cringed at the idea of his already long day getting longer.

'' okeh, Michelle and Danielle, you 're on the diving board. George II, Russell and Rocko are in the shallow end. true heath, Beth, Christine, and Eric, you have the deep end. It 's Fri so no lessons today, all free swim. Also, Gordon has been breathing down my neck about safety with no guard shirts on. I 'm looking at you Rocko. ``

'' Yeah, yeah, '' said a rich, condescending interpreter from the top of the bleachers. Rocko lounged lazily, shirt off, his arms behind his oral sex. Even though the pool was indoors he always wore tone. George had guessed they came in handy for agile pile and for ogling the former counselors and guards. George did n't particularly like Rocko, mostly because the guy was a prick, but also because he and Karen had started dating at the root of the summer. Though, it would be severe to conceive by the way Rocko acted around anyone with breasts.

'' I 'm not kidding tilt, '' Linda continued, `` I 'm really tired of hearing G-man 's belly-aching. Put the damn shirt on. ``

Rocko just sighed and reached for his guard shirt. He muttered something incomprehensible under his breath before finally pulling it out of his bag.

From the step leading down into the storage locker elbow room, George V could hear the firstly groups of camping bus getting quick for their time in the puddle. `` Alright everyone, kiddies are here, '' said Linda, `` let 's try and have a skillful Fri. ``

The day progressed slowly and uneventfully. New groups of campers filed in every 60 minutes as the previous groups left to go on to their adjacent activeness. Though the pool was olympic size of it and maybe slightly bigger thanks to the diving area. It always seemed to be teeming with small fry end to end. They reminded George V of ducklings. They bobbed and floated on foam noodles, and followed each other around in foresighted bloodline. It was like they were in a backwash to see who could have the most fun. He thought about joining them. But that would mean taking off his shirt.

The pool was housed in a large atrium, with windows in three commission and a domed glass ceiling. They provided a pleasant aspect of the surrounding pine forests and clear summer skies. Most people enjoyed the intuitive feeling of being comfortably inside, but also in line of sight of nature. Saint George thought it looked like a elephantine fishbowl.

Saint George was a lifeguard, but his really job was teaching them all how to swim. He really liked that region. Even though he was out of shape and overweight, he was an rank fish in the pee. His prowess was immediately seeming to Linda when she had first hired him. rightfulness away, she gave him an opportunity to teach the pass on swim course of instruction. Along with a higher pay rate, he also got to pick out his shift key and his assignments. However, his buy at of late arrivals chewed up nigh of his margin, and he ended up getting whatever was leftover nearly of the time.

Nevertheless, he was fond of the baby and he loved teaching them. This made Fri hard, because all he could really do was sit there and picket. It was n't all bad. He had taught to the highest degree of the tyke how to swim, and most of them were fairly competent this far into the summer. Situations that required actual rescues were so infrequent that he felt prosperous in letting his attention slide.

Instead, he shifted his attention to the women sprinkled around the edges of the pool. The closest from his perspective was Erica. She was the homecoming queen at her heights school, for good rationality. She had short browned hair, heights cheekbones, and cracking curve ball. Her rose hip were always what struck him. She would periodically support up indulge in a recollective stretch, which showed off the flair of her hips and her flat stomach. Her bathing suits were usually two-pieces with tube summit which had a habit of falling down when she went off the diving board ; much to her chagrin and the guys'amusement. Though St. George could tell she loved the attention. He knew that Erica was n't so stupid person as to wear a faulty bathing suit unless she liked it that way.

After her was Beth. Beth was slightly younger than to the highest degree of the former guards, but just as beautiful. She had soil blond hair's-breadth, which she usually wore up in a bun, and a cockeyed perky body. Her outflank lineament was her cunning face. It was freckly and cushy, with a slightly up turned nose. She had a flirty playfulness about her that had Rocko and the former male guards counting down the daytime until she turned eighteen. There had been many what-if sessions among the male members of the staff about being her first. George never participated in those chats partly because he was n't really chummy with any of the hombre, but mostly because he liked Beth. He did n't want to see her as a future piece of essence. But even George I would let in that if he had the chance with Beth, he would assume it.

Down the line was Christine. There was no misunderstanding Christine, nobody had white meat that large. She had obvious North Germanic feature film : long blonde hair, milklike blanched pelt, and a insolent body. While all the guards where well-endowed, Christine was in a conference all her own. No matter what boring one-piece suit she tried to hide behind, her lumbering, swaying titty always seemed eager to make their presence felt. She was known as something of a prude, and wore very materialistic clothing out of doors oeuvre. A gilt cross hung around her neck ; George thought to diffuse her piousness, perhaps. But all it ever really did was draw more attention to the two large globes cradling it.

Erica and Beth had made it their deputation to bring Christine out of her shield. They had succeeded to a degree, and Christine was learning to deal with the affect she had on men. Though she was still shy, she was beginning to loosen up, and every guy she worked with had taken notice.

Lastly were the Gemini, Michelle and Danielle. Those two holy terror were notorious for their weekend exploits, to the pointedness where half the Mon morning meeting was devoted to what they did. And more often than not, who they did. As identical twins, they were completely indistinguishable and inseparable. Both had long straight orange-red hair and wore entirely too much composition, even in the pond area. While George thought they were sexy in that naughty variety of way, the Twins were cruel and shallow. Much of the grief George III took from his coworkers came from them. They delighted in spreading rumors about him. Their favorite being a juicy tidbit they got from his sister about a sealed shower bath incident. Their deary way of passing the sentence involved inserting different masses or target into the level to get it sufficiently embarrassing, before distributing it to all the former precaution and counselors.

George would cheat quick glance at the women whenever the opportunity presented itself. As he became more and more blase, he took more endangerment and let his glance turn into full-of-the-moon on ogles. erica finally caught him, and in retaliation, sent one of the motor home over to apply him a quick accidental splash that soaked his guard shirt. erica just laughed and shook her head. George got the hint and focused his attention back on the pool.

Corina 's group came in just before lunch and Karen along with her. George always looked forward to these times because Karen always went into the water with her motor home. She would help them float or play plot with them. All the while she would dazzle George I with her beautiful trunk. But once again, his joy was denied him. Instead of entering the consortium with her camper, she went up to the top corner of the bleachers where they intersected the wall. She folded her weaponry around her bureau and scrunched her legs up to her torso, much like she was in the foetal situation. George was getting worried. It was unmortgaged that something was bothering her. He resolved to ask her about it at dejeuner time.

At live, the first half of the day ended, and everyone made for their lunch. As the campers scurried downstairs to the locker room, Karenic hovered in the entry way, herding them towards their gender 's proper address. As the last one entered George made his motility and sidled up to Karen.

'' Um ..., `` he began.

'' Yes ? '' she asked quickly.

'' Sorry, I just ... you seemed to be having a rough day today. I was wondering if you needed someone to talk to about it or whatever, '' his expression hung low in slight embarrassment.

Any pleasant window dressing she was clinging to disappeared. But she managed to ram a smile for him. `` That 's really sweet of you George III, but I 'm fine. ``

'' Are you sure ? '' he asked quietly.

'' Yeah ... '' she almost whispered it, but recovered, `` I mean, yes. I 'm really hunky-dory. '' She tried to appear at him, but immediately dropped her eyes in shame. `` I just had a roughly night finale night, I do n't really want to comport you with the detail, '' she said unconvincingly.

Lacking the self-assurance to press the upshot further, he settled on an give invitation. `` Okay, well, if you decide that boring someone is exactly what you want to do, I 'm sluttish to get a rise out of. ``

She let out a placid sigh. `` Thanks George IV, '' she said. His attempt at wittiness had no obvious impression on her humour. She turned to go into the footlocker room but stopped just before she made it to the room access. `` George, can I ask you something ? ``

'' Uh, yeah ! '' he said a little too enthusiastically.

She paused, like she was trying to figure out how she should ask it. Finally, she looked him in the eyes, and asked, `` Why ca n't more guys be like you ? ``

He thought for a here and now, and shuffled his weightiness before answering. He had the feeling she was n't flirting with him, and needed a real answer. Finally, he said, `` Because if they were, you would n't date them. ``

It was her turn to ponder for a moment. `` Are we really that screwed up ? '' she pleaded softly.

He did n't know how to answer her, but opened his mouth as he began to try.

'' No, forget I said anything. '' She moved quickly to the doorway, but turned back as she was about to enter. Her eyes were beginning to tear up. `` See you around, '' she managed. Her voiced cracked a small. She turned and left, with George alone in the unveiling way.

Feeling stupid for having tried, he made his way into the boy 's locker room and grabbed his lunch. However, his stomach ached in unsuccessful person, and he found his appetite leaving him. He put the tiffin back after deciding to spend his break somewhere repose. He found a secluded seat down the lobby from the pool and stared out a window. After making for certain that cipher was around to get word him, he let himself try to find solace in his song. It did n't exploit this metre. He could n't make it past the deadening beginning without feeling worse.

The second half of the day progressed just as agonizingly slow as the first half ; with the added torture for George in the realization that he still had another half to go after that one. After his lunch metre failure, George I was so chapfallen that he did n't even bother trying to sneak glance at the early precaution. He kept his eyes down at the pool. But his intellect was elsewhere. He kept trying to figure out a way to help Karen without hurting her or himself. But every time he came up with a possible solution, it evaporated whenever it inevitably steered him towards lead intercession. He was convinced that anything involving him actually saying something to her or doing something for her was across some line. The only when time he broke out of his funk was when Karen 's group entered for their secondment swim period, but he quickly returned to it when she avoided him.

Finally, the last naiant full stop ended. The campers gathered their towels and left the pool area while the lifesaver put away the safety post and deliverance equipment. All except George, his station would be left up for the belated shift. He stepped quickly to the locker way for a quickly bathroom break before his tierce shift started. As he was washing his hands, he heard Rocko, Russell, and Eric enter after all the campers had finally left. Immediately, Rocko began to recount the result of the old Nox 's day of the month with Karen as the other bozo listened intently. George II went to his locker on the far wall away from them and listened, despite his dislike of anything that came out of Rocko 's mouth.

'' So 1st I took her to that new urine park up in Bayside right hand. I tell ya, that girl fills out a fuckin'bikini. She looked so fuckin'hot and I could tell she was real into me right. So I 'm takin her home and I decided to quit at that lookout over the drop. We start makin'out like crazy. I 'm tellin'you guys, those boob are amazing ! '' He made hand gestures indicating a set of breasts at least twice as large as Karen 's, but Russell and Eric ooed and awed nonetheless.

'' So we 're makin'out right. wellspring I start movin'down to the promised solid ground, and the bitch starts playin'laborious to get. Sayin'she was n't ready or whatever. I played it cool, lay 'd a bit of the Rocko style on her. She kept tryin'to act like she was n't into it, but I got my fingerbreadth in there. She was squirmin'all over the place. ``

'' Dude ! '' said Eric, his eyes full with curiosity. `` What happened next ? ``

'' Well after that she started sayin'she wanted to go home. But I wanted to see how far she 'd go. I mean, fuck ! I 've taken her out three times ! She could at least throw me a blowjob or something, '' he shrugged. `` She offered to yank me off, so I let her do that. It was n't bad, but I 'm done with this pussy shit. I 'm goin'all the way this weekend. ``

George was facing away from them, but even a screen man could induce seen his disgust. No wonderment Karenic was in such a sour mood, she had been date raped the Night before. And what was unfit, Rocko did n't even consider it was damage. He just stir his head.

Rocko noticed this and called him out, `` Hey fatboy ! You got a fuckin'problem ? ``

George slammed his locker shut. He forgot his cautious nature and said with as a great deal bite as he could, `` You raped her you asshole. ``

'' I 'm not a fuckin'retard Shamu. She offered. I just accepted it. ``

George was getting more and more than angry, and struggled not to raise his spokesperson. `` And you do n't see a job with that ? ``

'' Do n't give me that shit ! '' yelled Rocko. `` All these sluts are into it. They just got ta act like they are n't. It 's part of the game. Not like you would know. ``

'' You think Karen sees it that way ? '' Suddenly, George became aware that Eric was circling around to his right.

Rocko stepped forward, his chest out. `` Who 's gon na ask her ? ``

Realizing there was no way out of this without some sort of physical altercation, George raised his clenched fists in as good a campaign position as he knew how. The former guys just laughed. `` aspect boys, ol'Shamu here is gon na kick our ass. ``

'' C'mon Rocko, '' interrupted Henry Kenneth Alfred Russell, `` leave the guy alone. ``

Quicker then George could react, Rocko punched him hard in the eye, knocking him to the floor in the cognitive process. Rocko and Eric stood over him and laughed some more. `` Fuckin'gripe ! '' shouted Rocko. Eric snorted deep for a big loogey and spit right in George V 's pilus. Rocko and Eric high-fived each early and made for the issue. Russell looked down at George V and sighed. He turned around and chased after his friends.

George sat on the storage locker room floor for what seemed like days. His head throbbed from the shiner that he could feel forming over his will eye. But that botheration was goose egg next to the expose slivers of his tattered pride stabbing him like knife. The feeling ran right into his inwardness and did n't allow him to move.

Suddenly, a realization came to him so hard, it almost felt like he was punched a second time in the gut : there was n't anything he could do to stop Rocko from hurting Karenic again, or any other girl for that subject. He felt completely despicable. Apart from his father dying eleven class ago, this day had become the spoilt day of his life.

Eventually, he did get up. He hobbled over to a sump and washed the spit out of his hair. He examined his new black eye. It was pretty pronounced, even with his longer then average hair, he would n't be able to cover it up. With nothing leftfield to do but get back to work, he composed himself as best he could, and headed back up to the pool area.

As he reached the cabinet room entry-way he almost slammed into Karen, who seemed to be heading in the same direction.

'' Oh, sorry George. Um, one of my kids left a towel rear and ... oh my god ! '' she said as she caught a glimpse of his inkiness eye. `` What happened to you ? Are you Okay ? '' she lifted a finespun hand to his face to sweep his hair away and get a beneficial look.

George VI recoiled at her ghost, she being the endure person he wanted to see him like this. `` I 'm okay. I slipped on the flooring and hit my point on a bench. '' He looked away from her and hurried up the stairs.

'' W-wait ! '' she called.

George stopped and listened, but did n't move around back.

She hesitated before asking, `` D-do you mind if I grab that towel ? ``

George frowned. `` You can do whatever, I do n't care. ``

'' Okay, '' she whispered, her voice cracking again.

Predictably, the 3rd fracture was completely devoid of any bather, leaving George V alone with his thinking. As the hours rolled by and the sun sank low enough to shine directly into the pond domain, George VI thought very seriously about quitting There seemed to be cipher for him there. But then he thought about what he would do if he left. It was n't like he had somewhere else to go. The forlornness was profound, and George wondered if it would ever end.

The beauty of the setting sun sat in direct resistance to his mood. The crimson atomic number 79 rays mixed with the urine to create bedazzle patterns on the paries and ceilings. He put his blazon on the windowpane sill and nestled his Kuki-Chin on his brass knuckles to better view the appearance. He would have liked to receive been able to share that with person. But his loneliness only deepened. With no other refuge, he started to hum his vocal. He did n't get far. Each time he began, his voice broke. And each time he felt the loneliness intensify. Eventually, he gave up. Not even his song could aid him anymore.

He let a few snag escape from his good eye. At that moment he needed soul, anyone, to be there with him, to express him something different. He called out in his mind. There were no real words, only the phone of his sorrow echoing through his being, aching for release.

From the stairs leading down into the locker room came sandaled footsteps. St. George immediately broke from his perch on the sill, heading instead for a spot on the wooden bleachers. He wiped his tears away and tried to face as passing as he could for his latest guardianship. Just as he got settled, a man emerged from the stairway.

He was bighearted and tall, looked to be in his late twenties, and walked with supreme self-confidence. He was n't cocky like Rocko, but dignified and strong. He strode right-hand past the log book that all swimmer after hours had to sign up as they entered and left, leading George to consider that this man was not affiliated with the college. He would get to have known at least that a great deal. Instead, the man smiled and gave George I a well-disposed wave. George followed him.

'' Sir ? '' he called out. `` Sorry, but you need to sign the log Word of God first. And I need to see your schooltime ID before you can use the installation. ``

'' Oh. Well, actually, I do n't have one. I do n't work here or anything. You see my girlfriend and I were driving by and she suddenly got the idea in her point that she needed to go swim. Do you believe that maybe, just this once ... '' he said imploringly.

George VI thought about it, but not for long. He looked at the clock on the wall. There was only an minute left, and he decided he could use the company. His boss had gone nursing home anyway. And since he felt like quitting, he found himself having a tough time caring what rules he broke.

'' Yeah sure, it 's nerveless, as long you guys do n't pee too a lot of a rumpus. ``

'' It 'll be like we were never here, I promise, '' he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Suddenly, George could hear rapid pace from behind him. Before he could sprain around to see what made them, the most unbelievably gorgeous cleaning lady that George had ever laid eyes on pranced up to the man, and kissed him lovingly on the cheek before affixing herself to his arm. Her red amber hair seemed to mix in with the light of the sunset around them and framed her beautiful boldness. Her eyes, a darkness super C, were unguarded and well-chosen, almost impulsive. Her hunting watch green Bikini left little to the imagination. Her dead body was flawless with almost impossible proportions. St. George could n't help but stare.

'' Who 's this diddly-shit ? '' she asked with a passably smile.

'' Oh actually, we have n't met. My name is diddly-squat, and this is Jennifer. '' He extended his hand for a shake.

'' George V, '' he said as he shook jak 's hand. He then extended his hand to Jennifer.

She took it gladly. She gazed at him thoughtfully, as if she were trying to read his nous. Finally, she smiled and said, `` It 's so wonderful to match you. '' Before letting go of his hand, she turned it over and examined it thoroughly. `` Such fantastic hands. Strong, but with a lighter tinge. I bet your lady friend must have it away these. ``

While George VI got the impression that he was supposed to be flattered by her tending, he found himself not wanting it. He liked her enough to be sure enough, but he felt like she was trying to fluff him a bit. After the day 's event, he was n't occupy in being toyed with. Shifting back to business organization, he took his hired hand back and continued.

'' Um ... like I told squat, I do n't heed if you use the pocket billiards as long as you do n't disclose too many rules. Pool finish in an hr ... ''

'' Oh my ! '' she gasped. `` What happened to your eye ? That looks so irritating ! ``

Like Karen, she tried to motivate his hair out of the way to get a dependable aspect. He immediately recoiled. He turned his left eye out of horizon. `` It 's no big deal really, this deck gets slippy sometimes and I hit my eye on the bleachers after a spill. Happens all the time. ``

But Jack and Jennifer looked genuinely concerned. Jennifer returned to Jack 's side and the two looked at him in silence for a few seconds. Feeling very humiliated, George II just turned away and said, `` I 'll let you live when I have to close up. ``

He walked back to his topographic point on the bleacher. Though he liked these people, he did n't need more pity. He just wanted to get through the day so he could spend his weekend alone, in peace. The yoke seemed to realize that they had got all they were going to get out of George IV. They found a place across the pool from him to set down their belongings.

Despite their early ebullience, the yoke did n't seem to do much swimming. They just waded in the shoal end, staying very close to each other, never breaking strong-arm contact. George I envied them. He paid close attention to the versed way they touched and embraced. They were completely in love and every action seemed to reaffirm it. Eventually, they stopped moving all together, and just held each other in the far nook of the pool. From his angle George V could see Jennifer 's look as she looked intently into manual laborer 's eyes. They looked like they were having a very important discussion. But there were no words.

St. George got the mental picture that what he was witnessing was very individual and sacred, that he should n't be watching them anymore. He turned away, and shifted his attention to the last trace of the fading visible light. He felt compelled to pass water a regard, something that he had n't dared do since he lost his begetter. He wished that someday, he could encounter a love like the one they had. He wished someone would look into his eyes the way Jennifer looked into Jack 's. Without thought, George began to hum his Sung again. This clock time, it had its intended effect. He still felt wretched, but now he knew what true love looked like. It was n't a great deal, but it was enough to get him through the day.

Eventually, seven o'clock rolled around, and George IV announced that he had to shut down the pool. The two swimmers quickly dried themselves off and headed towards the locker room. Before leaving, diddly-squat walked up to George VI and shook his hand again. `` Thanks again for letting us use the pool, Genie here can get a little impulsive at times. '' Jennifer gave him a playful jog in his costa and giggled.

'' It 's no problem, I 'm glad you guys came actually, '' said George. `` This billet can get a petty lonely in the afternoon. ``

Jennifer left Jack 's face and strode slowly towards George. With gracility he had never witnessed, she moved her workforce to his face and gazed lovingly into his soulfulness. George was paralyzed, not by veneration, but by some enchantment emanating from her eyes. She leaned forward softly and kissed his cheek.

She traveled to his ear, and whispered, `` The most beautiful regard always come true. ``

She backed away from him until she was at jackass 's position. `` Good luck, George V. I hope I see you again someday. '' She waved, and the two left quickly and quietly.

George stood there dumbfounded. What had happened did n't feel real. It felt like a aspiration, and he found himself at a red ink to think back everything that had just happened. Details about the two seemed to vanish as quickly as he could latch onto them. The last matter he could remember of them before all memory of their expiration was erased, was her eyes. He could n't forget those eyes. But even as he swore not to, they too were gone. He was alone again, as surely as the couple had never existed.

flavor suddenly empty but not sympathise why, he looked up at the clock and realized that it was time to shut the pool. He made his final rounds and as he approached the far corner of the kitty, he noticed that mortal had left behind a strange stringed musical instrument. It resembled a guitar in that it had frets and strings, with knobs to tune up them. But the odd footling guitar had two smaller wooden acoustic chambers instead of one. Stretched across the facial expression was some form of animal skin that Saint George could not invest. At the top was a masterfully carved ivory paradigm of a woman.

Dismayed by the fact that lost and found was closed, and leaving it there over the weekend would by no agency guarantee that it would still be there on Monday, he decided to read it home with him. Maybe on Monday he could encounter the foreign someone who would impart such a beautiful aim fanny. He finished putting everything away and headed home.

His star sign was dark. With his mother and babe gone for the weekend, his home felt cold and derelict. Even when he turned on the lights in the kitchen and started making a bomb sandwich for dinner, the firm felt like nonentity had lived in it for yr. He guessed that his mood was influencing his sensing in some way and he forced the feeling from his psyche. Instead, he got out the unusual looking guitar and examined it more closely.

Again his attention was drawn to the cutting of the woman at the top. It was almost soporific in its complexity. The woman 's hairsbreadth was so well realized that it almost seemed to move. She was at a visibility view, her middle were closed, and her hands were folded together as if she were praying. She wore a heavenly, contented grinning. George I reached out and traced the lines in the carving with his declamatory finger and imagined for a second that the char in the carving was real.

He then examined the different sweeping design on the undersurface of the instrumental role, which blended around its curvature. They rose as one up the frets and melded into the woman 's hair at the top. There were no identifying chump from any company, or a `` Made in chinaware '' plastered on the bed. He thought that it must own been very old.

Again, he tried to retrieve who had been at the pool that day. Try as he might, he could n't commend anyone entering the pool during the afternoon shift. Surely it was n't something one of the kids brought in for show and William Tell ; a child could n't really prize something so well made. George took a look around to see if anyone was watching him, which he immediately thought to be pudden-head since he was completely alone, then strummed one of the strings lightly.

It sounded strangely associate to Saint George even though it was unlike any tool he had ever heard before. It made a harsher sound than his own guitar, but after he plucked a few to a greater extent Federal Reserve note in chronological succession it became quite soothing.

He finished his sandwich and took the strange instrument up the stairs to his bedroom. He tried very hard to recollect who had been at the pocket billiards that day. It was n't there when he started his third sack, he was quite sure of that. Yet no one had come in all afternoon. Eventually, he figured it did n't really matter. He would surely get hold whoever it was on Monday.

He ignored the instrumental role and logged on to his estimator. He checked his e-mail ( there was n't any ), then went to his preferred video game news site and started checking out the day 's article. He became bored with this quickly and glanced back at the odd guitar as it leaned against his desk. The face on the top seemed to be moving, but when he blinked and looked more closely nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. He decided he needed to allow it alone, so he picked it up and placed it on top of his bookcase. He sat back down at his desk and played a video plot on his computer. Absently, he hummed his tune. A few hour went by in blissful escapism.

During a break in the action on screenland, he reached for his desk lamp to turn down the light when he noticed that the little guitar was leaning against his desk again, the adult female facing him. He leapt up from his chair and backed away from it. After a few moments of panic, he began making sense of his opinion. The legal document could n't have moved by itself, but he knew that he had put it on the bookshelf.

After he was fulfill that it was n't going to move again, he slowly moved closer. He got out a pencil from his desk draftsman and cautiously poked one of the frets with the eraser end, knocking it over. He leapt back again in prediction of some sort of retaliation, but the instrument just sat there.

He sat back down in his president and rubbed his aching head. Suddenly, from the recession of his eye he noticed a effort from the charwoman 's font. When he looked, he was sure that it was moving.

From out of nowhere, he had the undeniable urge to flirt it. He lifted it up carefully and sat at the foot of his bed. He plucked each drawstring deliberately, as he mentally mapped out the musical note in his head. Luckily, it was n't played much differently than his own guitar, though its sound was something completely unlike. As he fiddled with the notes he felt his temper modification with each one. The higher notes made him feel calm air and ruminative, the lower billet made him feel powerful and strong. Very soon, he felt he had a grasp on what the strange guitar was equal to of. And after a few winding of the large wooden thickening at the top, he was fairly confident he had it set at its apex performance.

He silenced the instrument and then thought about what he should flirt. All the songs he knew were made to be played on a guitar, and he did n't call back they would sound right on this detail legal instrument. But then he remembered his own song and was curious as to what it would go like.

He began the decelerate, sorrowful beginning, and watched in astonishment as the typeface began to open its centre. Startled, George stopped playing, and the sculpture went back to its original country. He started again, and the look moved like it had before. George did n't stop this clock time. He kept playing through the beginning and moved on through the aspirer beat. The woman became alert and gazed at George lovingly as he played. The foreign guitar began to rock slightly as the vibrations from the string section reverberated up the wooden Greek fret and into the tusk carving.

Finally, the crescendo echoed through his room, and the carving cracked spacious up its center. A glowing pink vapor sprung Forth River and surrounded him. It penetrated his nose and back talk and heart. His imaginativeness blurred and started to get black around the sharpness. He realized he was passing out, but found himself unable to fight down it. He fell back on to his bed and dropped the odd guitar to the floor .