Shaking your head, you try to clear your mind of thoughts about being Lauren's turd. As titillating as the idea is, a fantasy is just that, a fantasy, and the reality of it is a lot more horrifying and terrible than you imagine it to be, that you are sure of. Besides, you haven't evaded digestion and survived for twenty three years just to die here and now to this nine year old. If you had wanted to die a fantasy death, you would have accepted your prom date's invitation to come back to her place back when you were sixteen. Now there was a fantasy, red hair, lightly freckled skin with a tanned complexion, a delicious ass on a pair of wide, curvy hips, and breasts so big, round and perfect that they were enough to make a porn star jealous.They weren't overly large like some, but the way they sat on her chest seemed to defy the laws of gravity.

As you consider all this, you are suddenly snapped out of your daze when Lauren, still standing under the hoop, yells out, "Quit stalling! P.E. is almost over, and if I'm still ahead when it's over, I win!" She shouts while tapping her pink laced, tennis shoe clad foot on the ground impatiently, hands on her hips, staring at you.

Looking at the clock, you see that you only have five minutes before the end of Lauren's gym class. Now, not only are you facing a steep lead, but a time limit as well. Although lunch period is next up, and you know that the teacher would likely let her stay a little after to finish the game, especially since she is playing to win her lunch, but there is always the chance that Lauren will just say that she wins now that she has warned you. Besides, it's likely the teacher would let whole class stay and watch the match herself just to see you lose, and if you won at that point, there is a reasonable chance the teacher would try her hands at getting you into her own belly, and she wouldn't use a silly game of 'horse' to decide your fate. So, lining up your shot, you bounce the ball once, twice, and then shoot it, sending it sailing through the air towards the hoop. Time feels like it's going in slow motion as the ball flies toward the basket, and you gulp nervously. It's a great shot, and as it descends towards the hoop, you just hope it goes in and doesn't bounce off the rim and out of the basket.