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He glanced down at my beer. Satisfied that I still have half a beer remaining he turned back to the bridge and continued to stare down at it with me in silence.He didn't speak again. We slowly finished our drinks and he went to his car for refills.I'm not sure where I got the nerve. I heard myself asking, "What happened? Did the fence stop you?"He shook his head. There was a long pause and then he said, "I was parked where I'm parked now, sitting on the hood of my old car and staring at the bridge. I was actually looking forward to it. I looked out at the bridge and it comforted me. The pain was about to end. And there suddenly appeared before my eyes a hand holding a cold beer."A man handed me a beer and then just leaned up against my car and we drank together in silence for a long time. He knew why I was here. He knew because that was why he first came here several years earlier." Did he talk you out of it?" I asked.He cocked his head to the side thoughtfully for a moment and said,. One of her favorites was to bend over backwards and keep bending until her head was facing forward again and she was looking at the crowd from between her own two feet. It looked impossible. People went crazy.It helped that she had a 36 inch bust line. Her mams were nice and round and, though the crowd couldn't see them, were capped with tiny little nipples on tiny little areolas. Each one of them probably didn't take up the size of a dime, but they stuck out maybe half an inch. The crowd couldn't see her pubes either, much to their dismay, but if they had they'd have seen straight hairs that looked like they'd been combed and thinned, flowing down from a bikini line. You could see the underlying skin through them. Basically they framed her plump pink vulva which pooched out in a camel toe quite often. The crowd DID get to see that once in a while. That drove them wild too.But what made the biggest difference was the way Sheri paid attention to the game and the fans. She knew most.
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