0 comments/ 40834 views/ 0 favorites Seventh Inning Stretch By: doones The week had passed swiftly, and we were laying in bed, almost clueless that our visit was reaching its end. We cuddled close and held each other tight, sharing in our love and in the closeness which had grown ever deeper over our phone calls, emails, and now, the culmination of all our work, a week together. No interruptions, no phones, no computers Just us and our love, our joy, our sweat, and our bodies intertwined. A week of sheer bliss. "Hon," I said with a wicked smile, "don't you think it's about time we get outta bed for a little and do something else?" Your reply is simply a laugh and a nod of your lovely brown tresses. "Good, I wouldn't want the tickets I got to go to waste love," I laughingly tease you. "What tickets baby?" is your expectant reply. "Oh nothing much hon. Just get dressed, wear a nice loose skirt hon, and I'll take ya for a ride. We'll be on the road for about three hours, so be comfy," I tell you. Seemingly in minutes, you're in the shower, teasing me with your voice and your repeated calls of "awww come on baby, my fingers are on my clit, wanna see?" I resist your temptation, let you finish as I whip us up some breakfast. Nothin fancy, just an omelette and some OJ. It's a warm sunny day in September, and we agree that this will be more fun with the top down. You help me unzip and flip the soft cloth down into the back of my Jeep, teasing me with little flashes the entire time. I tease back with little flicks of my tongue. Each of us driving the other wild…knowing what's behind the looks, the licks and the teases. As we drive south on I-95, you keep pestering me with questions about where we're going, and what we're doing…I resist. You lick your lips and lean over me…tickling the inside of my thigh with your fingernails "are you SURE ya won't tell me where we're going baby?" "Yes dear, it's a surprise," Is my simple response. I take one hand off the wheel and place it over your pussy, lightly pressing on your clit. I smile at you, "two can play the teasing game love." After about two and a half hours going south on 95, it finally dawns on you. "Oh goddd Jeff, an Oriole's game???" you shout as you see the sign saying "Camden Yards, Exit 52". I smile at you and simply nod. "but baby, not just ANY O's game….O's vs Rangers," I wickedly inform you. We hop eagerly out of my Jeep and walk through one of the gates, and seemingly walk forever around the stadium, working our way back to just behind home plate. You look at me and ask "just how good ARE these seats hon?" "Let's just say that I sure hope the screen behind the batter holds baby." We take our seats just behind the screen, nothing between us and the grass of the ball field but the soft wire mesh. Watching the players take the field, we wrap our hands together and start to drink in the sites and sounds of the game. The crack of the bat, the calls of "beer hereeeee", the roar of the crowd as each player gives his all. My fingers begin slowly teasing up your leg. Just barely tickling your knee and feeling your smooth skin under my touch. I lean over and whisper into your ear "come sit on my lap baby." I lift your skirt up so it's flowing all over my lap and pull your lovely body close to mine. Nuzzling into your neck, I begin to lightly tease you with my tongue. My lips playing slowly over your neck, gently kissing, each kiss brings my tongue out of hiding to flick across you and tease you a little more. I reach underneath your skirt to move your thong out of the way, and realize that you didn't wear one. I shift my leg slightly so that your hot pussy is touching the bare skin of my leg. Tensing the muscle in it, and pushing hard against your swelling lips, I nibble on your earlobe and say "mmmm I love it my naughty girl!" You hear me slowly unzipping behind you and without prompting slide back on my lap and wrap your tight wet pussy around my cock. We sit there, for what seems like hours, my stiff cock inside your wet pussy…simply savoring the feeling of our love in yet another arena. In front of us, the fielders shift in response to the batter at the plate, and I whisper "look hon, they want to see us better." My cock slides slowly out of your wet hole, and then back in and I hear a catch in your voice as I whisper and thrust at the same time. Slowly but steadily, I keep pumping into you, feeling your body shake and quiver as I slide my cock deep into you, and then back out. Stretching your hot little cunt wide with my thick cock, in front of everyone in the stadium. Suddenly we hear a roar…and out of the corner of my eye, I catch the view of the jumbotron. It's us. You on my lap, your skirt spread out, nobody having any clue that I'm fucking you right there, in the stadium, not just in plain view, but now, larger than life on the screen before us. Looking up I slowly thrust in and out of you, and force your head to watch the screen. The look of joy in both our faces is unmistakable, for us, for the rest it's a sweet young couple enjoying the day. "They're missing all the best stuff aren't they baby," I whisper to you. The thought of all the witnesses sends a shiver down both our bodies, a rapid fire wiggle inside your wet pussy. And that thought is all it takes. Just as the camera shifts to another view, I can feel your cum soak my cock, dripping down onto my boxers and covering me. The spasms inside you drive me over the edge and I throw a load of cum deep inside your now soaked pussy. I lean forward and kiss you on the cheek tenderly. Holding you down so that your pussy can still clench around my softening cock. The moment seems to last forever. Our love flowing between us, shared, and filled within us. We spend the final innings of the game laughing and teasing each other. Playfully tossing beer and peanuts at the other and then licking each other clean. Couples around us nudge each other playfully, encouraging their partners to do the same, or at least to remember when they were that young and playful. Little teasing jokes are tossed between our mouths, as are kisses, nibbles and deep tender expressions of love. The joy that we feel finally being together manifests itself in our happiness. Our shared love, and in our totally playful attitude. The total lack of caring in what anyone else thinks, says or does. The game begins to wind down, and we're so into each other that we don't even notice. As the players clear the field we take our turns mobbing the field trying to get autographs from our favorite players. Even that is done halfheartedly though, because it means we are separated. As we're filing out, our fingers intertwined, I lead you thru a semi hidden doorway to what looks like a closet. We duck in there, and I smile sweetly and say "not a sound baby, trust me." It's now hours past when anyone should be inside the stadium, and we decide that the coast is clear. Ducking out of our little hiding spot with furtive glances across the hall to make sure we're not seen, we RUSH back to our seats to take a look around the empty ball park. Smiling at each other we run over to the dugout and hop over it onto the hallowed grounds of Camden Yards. Like two little kids, we run around the bases, teasing each other with little pinches and spanks, basically loving the moment, the company and each other. The stars are shining down on us and there are no lights above save the moon, and the glow of our love, our joy and our pleasure. We sit down on the pitchers mound and begin kissing. Suddenly, we're drenched! "Oh shit, it's the auto sprinklers baby, run, to the dugout!" We slip into the dugout together, and look around. Touching the walls that have surround greatness. Touching each other. We don't even bother pretending and just pull each other's wet clothes off. Standing totally naked before each other, we pull close in a warm embrace. Hugging each other tightly and warming each other with the fire burning between us. I drop to my knees before you, slowly. Teasing my way down your chest…over your nipple. Sucking on it, biting it gently, then harder. Pulling your entire nipple into my mouth and then releasing it with a slight shove of my tongue. I hold the barest fraction in my teeth and flick my tongue across it slowly. I savor the taste of the sweat on your nipple…and then slide my tongue down lower on your body. Teasing across your sexy tummy and fondling your piercing with my tongue. With my lips. With my teeth. Tugging on it softly, then a little harder, just till I hear you gasp with pleasurable pain. I release your piercing, and blow gently to cool the firey trail left by the passing of my tongue. Watching the water evaporate off your stomach as I blow, and watching the goosebumps rise in the tiny fine hairs on your sexy tummy. I look up at you and smile. My tongue slides down from your navel. Rubbing softly over your freshly shaved body. "mmmmmm my baby, quite the tasty one," I say with a wicked grin as my tongue pauses JUST above your clit. Then, quickly, I flick my tongue over you. Teasing your already erect clit slowly and softly. Then harder. Sucking your clit deep into my mouth and biting it. Gently at first, then harder. Moving my teeth across it sideways and then stretching it out of its little hiding spot. I release your clit as I feel your knees weaken, and push you back onto the dugout bench. Spreading your legs wide, I start all the way down at your ankle. Kissing my way slowly up your leg. Licking small circles over your ankle, I lift your leg up high and stare all the way up it to your wet little pussy. I lick your calf, slowly. Gently. Teasingly. Blowing away the warm wet trail left by my tongue and then biting you. Taking the flesh behind your knee and surrounding it with my teeth and squeezing until I hear you moan. I nibble slowly up your inner thigh again and work my way back to your tight cunt. With a wicked grin on my face I shove my tongue deep into it. Flicking inside you, and slowly licking and finding your gspot. Pressing my tongue on it, I slide you down off the edge of the bench. My fingers wrap themselves around your ass cheeks and dig in. With each squeeze, my tongue seems to push a little deeper into you. Then, without warning, I stand you up and quickly turn you around. My fingers begin probing your pussy, as if trying to pull every drop of your wetness out. Rubbing. Shoving. Teasing. Filling. You feel my fingers leave you and look behind you to see what is going on. I am there stroking my cock just above your hot little asshole. I get my cock all nice and wet for you and then slowly slide it into your rear entrance. Teasing your clit the entire way and rubbing you as I begin slowly fucking you from behind. "oh baby, I love this hot little asshole," I growl into your ear. My fingers wrap around your clit and begin teasing it. Slowly at first then in faster and faster motions as I feel the orgasm build inside you. Gently teasing you, and fucking your hot pussy with my fingers. I can hear you moan louder and louder, begging me to fuck your hot ass faster. I comply willingly, teasing your pussy with my fingers, and filling your sexy ass. The first waves of orgasm hit you and I shudder with you. Feeling your body tense, and feeling your ass clench me driving me over the edge. Cumming deep in your ass I pull myself even closer to you and wrap my entire body around yours, savoring the feeling of our orgasm. Savoring the feeling of you. Of us. I lift you up from the bench and kiss you deeply, sharing the taste of your pussy with you, and sharing the taste of my lust for you. We slowly and reluctantly begin putting our clothes back on, helping each other dress, teasing the entire time, and loving every second of it. We rush out of the stadium, hoping nobody saw us, but at the same time knowing that all those lights in the office/warehouse couldn't just be those that were left on accidentally. As we leave, there seems to be wave after wave of office workers, grounds keepers, and other employees from the Yard giving us appreciative smiles, and knowing winks. We walk on, a bit red faced, but our heads held high. Seventh Inning Stretch It's in the blood, this passion that I have for baseball. It all started on an oppressively humid August day in central Alabama, when I was all of four years old. I was sitting on Aunt Roberta's porch, two houses down from my own, dressed in a gingham dress and enjoying a tea party with Lily, my favorite rag doll. Aunt Roberta had noticed a yellow-jacket nest in the eaves on the far end of her porch and started swatting it with a broom. The next thing I knew I heard shrill shrieks as the swarm of wasps lit into her. Aunt Roberta instructed me to run home to Mommy to get help, but that wasn't needed. My parents had heard the screaming and were already on their way over. Mommy took Roberta to the hospital right away, leaving Daddy to care for me. Dad looked over at my mom, and said, "What am I supposed to do with Casey? I have to work." Mom said, "Take a coloring book. She'll be good for you." So, that's the first day I went to Ramsey Stadium. Our Middletown Knights, a Double A team, shut out the Glenwood Fielders, 3-0, that day. I should know. You see, Daddy was Knight's announcer. He took me up into the announcer's booth, pushed the crayons into my hands and emphasized that I had to be quiet, particularly when the red light was on. I think I colored for all of three minutes, and then found myself sitting on a tall stool next to Daddy, watching the game. Between innings, when the microphone was silent, I peppered Daddy with all sorts of questions. That day the Knight's manager, Mr. Bardsley, came into the booth. He kept on telling Daddy how I was extraordinarily well behaved and enchanting. And at the end of the afternoon, Mr. Bardsley presented me with a black and gold Middletown Knights cap. Sixteen years later, that hat still rests on a nail in my bedroom at my parent's house. After one game, I was hooked. I rarely missed a home game from that point on. During the spring and fall, Mommy said I couldn't go to the game unless my homework was completed. Needless to say, I became a very good student. And I was devastated when I came down with the chicken pox at age 8, because it kept me away from the ballpark for the opening week. Because I was so good and followed the rules, I had run of the ballpark, including the bull pen. Many of the players took me under their wing, as if I were their little sister. But I spent most of the time in the announcer's booth, sitting on Daddy's right side. I was fascinated with the electronic equipment, and at age 13 was able to take over for the sound engineer, Bud, when he was sick. I deviated a bit from his selection of music … less organ music and more rock. One day I snuck a Backstreet Boys CD into the booth, thinking that the folks in the stadium would like I Want It That Way as much as my middle school friends. I didn't make that mistake again. The freckled red-head girl in pigtails slowly morphed into a young lady, with all the appropriate teenage body parts. I seemed to have one big growth spurt between my junior and senior years of high school. When I returned to the ball park in the spring, many of the younger players looked at me differently. I was no longer their little sis, but rather a short tomboyish girl who looked hot in cut-off shorts and tight tees. A year later, I had a huge crush on Bruce, a 19-year-old centerfielder from Little Rock with killer blue eyes and jet black hair. At first he was very sweet to me; I just knew that we would be married at some point. But then his teammates started teasing him, saying that I was "jail bait." I was hurt when he turned cold on me, and I needed to prove that I wasn't just a kid. On a Saturday night in September, we smoked some joints in the stands long after the ball park had closed. A few hours later, I lost my virginity to Bruce on a squeaky wooden table in the equipment room. Until the season ended, we met up in secret. He fucked me as often as he could. I was heartbroken when the season ended and he returned to Little Rock to work at his uncle's car lot. As spring approached, I called Bruce. He was strangely distant to me, said that he was promoted to Triple-A. I felt like a fool, being so chaste while he was away and waiting for a return that didn't materialize. The following summer, no longer “jail bait”, I was more accepted by the players. After most games, I hung with the guys. I was gaining the reputation as team nympho, the redhead tomboy who would spread her legs for a ballplayer in need. A few days before I headed off to college, with a freshly minted fake ID in hand, the guys took me out for pizza and beer. After the place closed, five guys and I headed to Kevin's apartment where we finished off a few more six packs and watched a West Coast game on cable. Sammy said they wanted to give me a good send off, and set me up in Kevin's bedroom. One at a time, they would empty their seed into me. Once the fucking starts, I tend to cum easily and loudly. They nicknamed me "The Alarm Clock", because the boys could predict when the next should be ready for action. It was a non-stop fuck fest until the wee hours of the morning; most guys came 3-4 times in me that night. God, if Daddy only knew what his diminutive red-headed tomboy was doing. My sex life didn't let up once in college. But I always looked forward to the summer. College boys were fine, but baseball players were finer. They tended to be quite muscular, and I grew to enjoy the smell of clay from Ramsey field. Most days I worked the concessions in the summer. And if Bud wanted to take some time off, I'd act as the sound engineer, back in the announcer's booth with Dad. I had to be close to the sport I loved and the boys who played it (and me) so well. When this summer started, I felt a bit of remorse. A year from now I'd be finished with college and would be looking for a real job. I knew I would miss my summers at the Ramsey Stadium. When working the concessions, I would take a tall cup of sweet ice tea up to Daddy in the slower periods. One early June day I entered the announcer’s booth quietly and slid the tea over to the table in the front of the booth. The red line was on, but Dad signaled for me to stay. Between innings, Daddy started, "Casey, I got a call from Brad Keeler earlier." Mr. Keeler was the owner of the Bloomington Redwings, another AA team a few hours away from here. I had met him a few times, and he was one of my favorite owners. "Brad tells me that their sound engineer is out for a month or so … emergency appendectomy. I thought you might be up for the job. It pays a bit more than you'll be getting from the concessions. Brad says he'll put you up in the same hotel where he houses the players. Not the Hilton, of course …" "Oh, I don't care about that, Daddy. But how much does it pay?" I enquired, thinking about how I would need to spend a small fortune on textbooks in the fall. "About double what you are making now," he answered. "Now, it's only for a month or so." The inning was about to start, so the red light went on and Dad started announcing again. I reached for a scrap of paper, scrawled a note and passed it to Daddy. It read, "Tell Mr. Keeler I'll do it." I can't believe how quickly things progressed. I was on a bus to Bloomington the next morning. Mr. Keeler told me that I could walk to the hotel and the stadium from the bus stop. I was to report directly to the announcer's booth at 4:30 and introduce myself to Mark Tyson. At 4:15 I stood in front of Redwing Park. It was larger and more modern than Ramsey Stadium, and also a bit more intimidating. With almost three hours before the game was to start, the place was deserted. Yet I managed to find the announcers’ booth easily. I hadn't thought about knocking … just walked right in. A man in his late 20s turned around and looked at me quizzically. He was a tall and lanky, appeared to have a shaved head under his ball cap. He had what I can only explain as a kind face … warm, caring eyes. The man began, "Uh, I don't think you are supposed to be here. Who are you looking for?" I extended my hand out, "You must be Mark. I'm Casey Crofton, your very temporary sound engineer." Mark lifted his eyebrows and said, "Wow. Casey. It never occurred to me that you could be a girl. And such a hot one at that." Funny thing was that I didn't feel particularly "hot". My shoulder length red hair was pulled back in a pony tail. I had no makeup on, and my clothes consisted of a tight t-shirt and some cut-off shorts. Mark shook my hand and then offered, "Oh, I'm so sorry. That was kind of rude. I'm so sorry. Really. " He paused but continued, "How old are you? Did you finish high school?" I laughed, "I get that a lot, because I'm so short. It's cool. I'm 20 years old. I'll graduate college next spring." Mark smiled at me, seeming a bit flustered. "If it's any consolation," I continued, "I didn't expect you to be so young. I think you are the first announcer I've met that's under forty. Exactly how old are you?" Breathing easier, Mark replied, "Twenty seven. But you … you look so young. It's like you're my little sister or something. Got to watch what I say." "Tell you what," I started, "After the game we'll throw back a few brewskies and shoot some darts. Trust me; I'm not anything like your little sister." Mark held his gaze at me, still smiling. I instantly felt an attraction to him. Any hesitation about taking this job was now gone. Looking around the room I saw a massive console. "Wow, this is much different than I'm used to. Can you show me the ropes?" I asked. "Sure, sure." Mark replied. "Sit down, please." He pulled a chair over and placed it behind me. For the next half hour or so he patiently explained things to me, at times touching my hand, my shoulder. His touch wasn't comfortable. It was electric. I liked that. Mark was a good communicator, and I quickly acclimated myself to the sound system. Mark quizzed me on the features, and when he was sure I had it down, he stated, "We have a new computer system, too." He slid over to his chair and stated, "We are networked and both of us have two monitors. One monitor is for our own use. The purpose of the other monitor is to see what the other is doing. We both have access to all the stats, so if you see anything interesting, flash it up on the screen and I'll think about using it." "Can I send you instant messages to you?" I enquired. "Yes, absolutely. This box at the top of the screen is for that. And the internet is available, too. So if you find anything else, flash it up on the screen." Anxious to try the new feature, I typed, Casey: This could be rather entertaining … I could fill my screen with jokes and porn Mark typed back, Mark: You want to trip up the announcer on your first day? Casey: Not to worry. I am very nice (wink) Mark: I'm worried I turned around and faced Mark. "This is so cool, Mark." "Yeah, I'm a bit of a techie," he admitted. "You designed this system?" I asked. "Dude, this is genius." Mark smiled at me again, saying, "Thanks." He paused and said, "Listen, I have to prepare for tonight. Less than two hours until game time and I have to review the stats." "Gotcha," I replied, "I'll be good." As Mark poured over spreadsheets, I rifled through the CD collection, also pulling a few CDs out of my own bag. I started to queue up songs that I would be using that night. I was a bit anxious about the new equipment, so I spent a lot of time testing and practicing. I was deep in thought and was a bit stunned when the silence was broken. "Five more minutes still show time, Case. You ready?" asked Mark. I glanced over at Mark, whose eyes were still focused on his monitor. With some hesitation in my voice I replied, "I think so. It's just quite a bit different than what I'm used to." Mark's eyes darted from the monitor to the field, and then back to the monitor. "I still get a bit antsy before games myself. I need to make sure I can pronounce all the players on the opposing team. It was pretty humbling when I referred to Mario Herrara as Whore-era." I giggled. Mark continued, "I think I pulled out some interesting stats. And I've got tonight's shtick figured out." "Shtick?" I asked. "You'll see soon enough, Case," he stated, his eyes still darting wildly from field to screen. I sensed something in Mark at that moment … intelligence … some creative genius perhaps. Instead of checking out the hunks on the field, looking for targets for post-game action, I found myself fixated on the lanky, hairless guy. It was as if I was drawn into him. As he tapped his pencil on the table, I asked, "Have you got a girlfriend, Mark?" Mark stopped tapping and looked directly into my eyes, a bit perplexed with the question. "No." He stood up and looked down towards the home team bullpen. "Not a steady or anything at least. There was this girl, but we broke it off last fall. I've been seeing this middle school English teacher, but it's not serious." He paused, but I had nothing to say in return. He continued, "What about you, Case? Anyone back there in Middletown?" "Just the entire Knights team." With that comment, Mark looked over at me and then slowly smiled. "You had me there for a while, Case." I returned his smile. God, did I really say that? Thankfully he thought it was a joke. I didn't know why I cared what he thought, because I hadn't cared before. Well, not since Bruce. But for some reason it mattered. The door opened and a young girl from the concession stand entered, tray full of food in hand. There were hot dogs, cheese fries, chips, two large cups of ice, and a half dozen cans of soda. She placed it on the table behind us. "Wendy, you didn't forget me!" Mark exclaimed. "You've cut it close before, but this must be a new record. One minute until the game time." "Sorry," the teenager replied, "We've got quite a crowd tonight." Wendy looked over at me and said, "We bring up complimentary food every night. I didn't know what you wanted, so I just brought double what I usually get Mark. But I didn't know the new sound engineer would be a girl. If you prefer a diet soda or salad, whatever really, let me know and I'll fix you up tomorrow." "This looks fine, actually," I acknowledged, "Thanks." As Wendy left, she locked the door behind us. Mark explained, "Wendy will flip the sign on the door that says DO NOT ENTER. It's just a precaution. Until the game ends, it's just you and I. Oh, and if you have to use the bathroom, there's one on the right." "OK,” I replied. I lifted up the soda and stared at it. "Redwing Rebel?" Mark explained, "Local soda. It's cherry cola, with a bit of a kick. Good stuff." Mark looked over at the field and continued, "Showtime, Case. You got the first tune queued up?" I nodded yes. The red light turned on. I turned to the console and played a few lines from Born to Be Wild. Mark turned towards me, gave me a toothy grin and the thumbs up sign. Obviously, I was a bit more adventurous that the usual sound engineer -- and he approved. To my surprise, that acceptance meant a lot to me. For a girl who usually doesn't care what other people think, I wanted him to like me. Mark began, "Welcome to Redwing Airlines. I'm your captain, Mark Tyson, and my co-pilot today up here in the sound booth is a sassy little red-head all the way from Middleton, Miss Casey Crofton. Soon our flight attendants will be visiting your aisle with beverage service. We have coffee, tea, and of course, Redwing Rebel." Mark looked at me, hoping that I would be amused. I grinned back at him and typed, Casey: Ah, so that's the shtick Mark noticed my comment on his console, winked at me, smiled broadly, and turned back to the console. Nice teeth, I thought. Teeth? I care about teeth now, I mused. My eyes remained fixed on him. He fascinated me. It was the energy, I decided. Baseball players have a certain type of energy too. In physics they called it "potential" energy; it's stored and explodes when warranted. But Mark had this nervous "kinetic" energy. Even seated, Mark's in motion. His head shifts constantly. His eyes dart. He taps his pencil on the table. I knew that his brain was working in overdrive, too. The guy was brilliant, I decided. I think most people would find Mark's constant motion annoying. To the contrary, I found it very attractive, almost hypnotic. The game was about to start. "Ladies and gentlemen please stand for the National Anthem," Mark announced. He looked over at me and I gave him the thumbs up sign, assuring him that I was ready to let it roll. It occurred to me that he hadn't really rehearsed or talked about timing. Somehow it was all working out, though. After the National Anthem finished and the fans were returning to their seats, I played a few lines, from Born in the USA. Mark: Impressive Case Casey: Thanks Mark: I can't wait to see what you have up your sleeve next As he started introducing the players, I continued, Casey: If my sleeves were rolled up any higher, my shirt would be off Mark: That works for me I decided to have a little fun, so I pulled off my t-shirt. It really wasn't a biggie. I had a razor back sports bra on. Mark sensed the commotion in my direction and looked over. Mark: OMG Mark looked back at me. Feeling a bit playful, I placed my hands on the lower half of my tiny breasts, as if I were holding them up. And then pinched my nipples. Mark: Must … concentrate … on game Casey: LOL. Sorry … I'll be good … only talk about baseball Mark: Thanks … need to focus Casey: Gotcha. You know, there's nothing I like more than hard balls. Mark looked over at me and shook his head. I'm not sure if his expression was one of amusement or disgust. Perhaps it was a bit of both. Casey: The harder the better Mark: Case … Casey: And to be honest, I love a double header. Once is never enuff … Casey: Just talking baseball, of course Casey: Like bats … what I wouldn't give for the feel of stiff wood in my hands Casey: Yes, I like it soooo hard The first half of the inning went quickly. It was 1-2-3. The red light went off. Mark turned towards me and exhaled audibly. "Casey, you are one wild girl." I laughed out loud, "Oh, Mark, honey. You have no idea." I glanced down at his khakis and noticed a bulge. I realized how distracted Mark must have been, but he kept his composure throughout. I decided to turn it up a notch. "Is that a baseball in your pants, or are you just glad to see me?" I scooted the chair towards him, extended my left arm and dropped it on his lap. Through the fabric in his pants, I started stroking him. "Case, you've got to stop this. I need to focus on the game." My hand continued to stroke him. "I'd really like to go down on you. Say, Mark, is that something your little sister would tell you?" Mark paused and said, "OK, Case. You want honesty? I've spent the last five minutes thinking about how I wanted to fuck you. I can't think about that, though, Case. Not now. We have a job to do. I need to be on top of my game. Can we pick this up after the game?" I continued to stroke his pants and said, "I'm not going to last that long, Mark. Mark pulled my hand from his crotch and said, "Be good". Within seconds, the red light went on. Mark announced, "First batter up for the Redwings, shortstop Bobby Jones. Bobby is red hot right now, seven for ten in the last three home games." I stood up, unzipped my cut offs, and let them drop to the floor. Mark looked over at me, in disbelief of my actions. I returned to my chair, pulled my panties to the side, and started stroking my pussy. I knew Mark was watching, so I decided to give him a show. I slid my right index finger across my cunt, held up my wet finger for him to see, and then seductively licked it. Seventh Inning Stretch Mark: OMG … so sexy … I so want to pound you Casey: Still want to wait until after the game? Mark: What choice do we have? Casey: Seventh inning stretch. I'll cue up the music. We should have about four minutes. Mark: Serious? Casey: Very Casey: Fuck me doggy? Mark: Yes. Mark: God yes. Over the next few innings, I continued to seductively masturbate for Mark. I continued to fondle my tits. I stroked my pussy. At one point, I pulled my panties down and mooned Mark. Then I licked my finger and inserted it in my ass a bit. At first he would avoid looking in my direction, but after a while he couldn't help but look my way. When the microphone was cold, I would moan loudly. I was getting to him. He was starting to make mistakes in the announcing, confusing players, stammering through statistics. I'm sure it bothered him, but he was no longer protesting at my actions. I wanted to make this man so hot, like no one has ever gotten to him before. And I think I was succeeding. I don't think Mark's hard-on subsided in the least. During the fifth inning I took a piece of ice from my cup and rubbed it over my nipples. Mark unzipped his pants and started stroking himself. Casey: Nice package, hon. Casey: Can't wait until that nice cock is in my wet pussy. With one hand occupied, Mark really couldn't type a response. He continued announcing as usual. I loaded my mouth with ice chips and slid my chair closer to him. I pushed his hand aside, and I continued his hand job. I leaned into him, gently licking the tip of his dick. As he sensed the coldness of the ice chips in my mouth, his cock instantly became rock hard. I went a little deeper. I looked up at Mark, his mouth wide open. He was breathing heavily, looking like he wanted to moan. He looked over at the field, realizing he just missed a play. He got flustered, pulled me off, and zipped his pants back up. Mark: This has got to stop, Case Casey: Awww Casey: We still on for the 7th inning stretch? Mark: Oh yeah! I pulled my chair back in position and resumed the masturbation. The top of the 7th inning finally arrived, but time seemed to stop. Casey: This inning is dragging. Can't the Titans pull their pitcher? Mark: Yeah. Normally I'd be happy for the runs … Casey: I've got the music queued up … Mark: Kewl Mark: Almost there, darling Casey: Do you have a condom? Mark looked over me with a shocked expression and shook his head "no". Casey: Oh, that's a problem. Maybe we can do this tomorrow? Mark: Serious? I reached into my backpack, pulled out a thin square package in shiny wrap, and placed it on the table in front of Mark. Casey: It's green, flavored. Can you deal? Mark: Right now I think I'd take a balloon. In the next instant, the Titans made a double play. One more out and Mark would be "in", I thought. I moved my chair close to Mark, unzipped his pants, and started going down on him again. Mark didn't protest … commented minimally about the plays. Finally, after the crack on the bat, Mark pushed me aside, pointing to my console. It was time. "Fly ball to left field, caught by Hernandez. Folks, it's time to stretch, visit the loo, and load up on more Redwing Rebel." As I switched on the music, Mark silenced the microphone. He reached for the condom on the table and opened the package. As Hard Days Night by the Beatles played over the PA system, my head started bobbing over his groin. With the microphone silenced, I started moaning loudly. I looked up at Mark, who was watching me intently. He winked at me, arched his back, and closed his eyes. "Oh, Case, this feels so good. You could suck me all night long, but we only have a few minutes. I've got to get inside you, girl." I stood up, leaned up against the table, facing the field. The windows were slightly tinted. And even if someone were to look our way and see us, they could only see from the chest up. Mark pulled my wet panties down. Oh, how I wanted this. Mark put the condom on … yet another delay … albeit only for a few seconds. I felt his fingers on my pussy. He spread my lips apart, rubbed me for a second. As I felt the tip of his cock on my pussy, I leaned back into him. With one hard thrust, he was in. I gasped. "Oh, god, Mark, yes. Fuck me, baby." Over the years I had entertained a number of large guys, having gotten acclimated to some good-sized dicks. Mark was average sized, at best. Yet I could feel him fill up my pussy with his thickness. I reached behind my back and tugged at his solid balls. Mark started to slam me rhythmically. Catching my breath, I continued, "God, yes. Fuck me. I love the way you fuck me." Mark grabbed my tits through my sports bra and squeezed my nipples. We fucked hard and fast for a few minutes. Living up to my reputation, I started moaning loudly. "Mark, I'm cumming. Oh my God, I'm gonna cum so hard, Mark." Mark instructed me, "A little lower, baby … I'm gonna give it to you good now." I scooted down a bit, but Mark wanted to position me a bit differently. He placed both hands on my hips and positioned me a bit. My arms flew over the table onto the console. Obviously, I got the position right. Mark's pace picked up. He was slamming me harder then ever. I closed my eyes, and in a loud voice, I called out, "Yes! Yes! Oh, Yes!" Mark could feel my vagina walls contract. He also knew that our time was limited. Mark let out a quiet moan; we were cumming together. As he stopped pumping me, I opened my eyes and gasped. The red light was on. When Mark pushed me on the console, my hand turned on the microphone. Everyone in the ballpark had just heard my orgasm. I quickly pulled away from Mark and leaned into the microphone. Mark noticed the red light and gave me an "Oh, shit" look. I moaned again into the microphone. "Yes! Yes! This Redwing Rebel is awesome." I lifted up a can of soda in case any one was watching. Mark smiled at me and returned to the microphone. "That's my co-pilot Casey from Middletown. Her first time for Redwing Rebel. Happens all the time." I could hear laughter from the stands. Mark switched off the microphone and turned to me. Our smiles broke into laughs. A few seconds later, Mark peeled off the condom and pulled up his pants. He tossed the condom into the cheese fries container, and then kissed my forehead. "Case, I think I'm really going to enjoy working with you." Seventh Inning Stretch Painted toenails always make me horny. There is just something about women and painted toenails. I don't have a foot fetish; I'm not really attracted to feet or legs. But I just love painted toenails. The red painted toenails belonged to my wife's goddaughter and she strolled into the back yard and sat down onto the lounge. Let me back up a bit. I was in the back yard, a beer in one hand and the Cubs and Cardinals battling it out in a classic midsummer pitcher's duel. I was lying in the sun, soaking up the warmth of the hot July day and wishing I was at the game myself. My household tasks were mostly caught up, and I was relaxing after a long 60 hour work week. That's when Angela strolled into the back yard, painted nails and all, and threw herself onto the lounge across the patio. "What a day," she said as she relaxed into the chair. "Hard day in hardware? Perplexing plumbing problems? Excitement in electrical?" Angela was a recent college graduate. After a fun four years at one of the top state schools, armed with a duel degree in Art History and Comparative Literature, she found herself unemployed. Although my wife had died nearly four years ago, Angela still stayed in touch while in high school and college. After she had graduated in May, she called to ask if she could stay at my place while she tried to get into graduate school. In the short term she has gotten hired at one of the big chain hardware stores. It wasn't really where she thought she'd be. "Oh, it was okay. You know the weekend warriors of the home repair world who have screwed up the project at home, rush into the store and want us to fix the problems. I mean if you don't know what you're doing, don't rip out all of the plumbing under the sink before you have the parts and tools." I laughed. I had been in their shoes, trying to save a couple of bucks and costing twice as much when I was done "And then, since I'm a girl, it's like I don't know anything and they get all mad at me like it's my fault that they fucking shorted out the whole house when they forgot to reattach the ground wire to the dishwasher." I gave up on the game. It was the top the seventh, it was tied two all, but Angela wanted to talk. I turned off the radio. "Want one," I asked tipping my empty bottle toward her? "Like really bad." I got us two cold ones and brought it to her on the patio. While I was gone she had taken off her jeans and had draped them over her crotch. She had kicked off her sandals. Her long legs stretched out in front of her. "I was too tired to go change, hope you don't mind," she said, taking the beer. "Um, fine with me." I stared at her toes as she wiggled them up and down. "After work I went over to Jeremy's house." "Jeremy? "Yeah, the guy in my American History class. I've told you about him. " Angela had decided to make herself more marketable by starting a graduate program in history. She had probably told me about Jeremy in the past but I clearly had not been paying too close attention to the conversation. "I think I missed that part." "Tall, dark, handsome. He's really a hunk. I know I told you about him." I nodded my head. "Anyway, I went over there after work and we started kissing and making out. And I was getting really horny and all. And I'm giving him a great blowjob ..." I blew my beer out my nose. " ... I give great blowjobs, and I could tell because he was moaning really loud, and then he came in my mouth. And I swallowed it all." This time, I nearly choked on my beer. I'm forty five and here I was sitting in the sunshine with a gorgeous twenty-three year old while she's telling me about blowing her boyfriend. My cock was getting hard in my shorts. I started to tell her that maybe we shouldn't be discussing this part of her day, but she continued. "Then, I figured it was my turn and was starting to take off my jeans when he said he had to go out with his friends." "What?" "That's what I said! He said he was running late and had to meet his friends and ushered me out the door. What is wrong with him?" "Maybe he was ..." "I mean I just gave him a great blow job. And I swallowed. Most girls don't do that." She drained the rest of her beer. "Ready for another?" Before I could answer, she was up and walking toward the house. Tall, well proportioned, and wearing nothing but a tee shirt and a pair of white bikini panties. I was glad I had the stress test earlier in the year; otherwise I would have worried about heart attack. She came back, two beers in each hand. "Figured I save us a trip." She handed me my beer, clinked bottles, and walked back to her lounge. She took a long pull on her beer. So did I. "What's the matter with him," she asked picking up the conversation where she had ended it. "Maybe he's gay." "But we have sex and all, I don't know ..." "Just an expression. The guy is just a total fuck-up, that's all. He's got a totally hot girlfriend and he's really an ass. You can do better than him." "You really think so?" "Absolutely. There are a jillion guys out there for someone with your looks and brains, you ..." "No, do you really think I'm hot?" My mouth went dry. "Do you Uncle Jim?" "I don't think I'm the best person to be giving you love life advice." "Why not?" She smiled. "You're a great looking guy. You're smart. And funny. You keep yourself in shape, why wouldn't want your advice." I stammered. "I'm too old to be talking to you about this stuff. I shouldn't have said anything ..." "Well, I'm glad you did," she said "You are?" "Yep. So, what would you have done today if it was you instead of Jeremy?" My head throbbed. My mouth was even drier. And my cock was so hard that it hurt. "This really isn't an appropriate conversation, I'm too old and you're my niece and ..." "And I think you are a totally hot guy, and I started the conversation, and we're not blood relatives and do you want more reasons?" "No." "So, what would you have done? "I would have treated you like a beautiful woman should be treated." "Yeah?" "Yes." "What would you have done?" She had been staring at me, her hand stroking up and down on the beer bottle. I stood up and walked over to her. I took the bottle from her hands and put it on the table. I pulled off her shirt and bra. She has small breasts, but they were firm and her nipples were hard. I straddled her with my knees and leaned forward and licked her left nipple. She giggled. I bent to the right one and took it in my mouth, my tongue flicked over it and I sucked it for a moment. She moaned a deep moan in her throat. I opened my mouth and took all of her small tit into my mouth. It felt great. I traced my way to her panties with my tongue. I flicked her navel and rested my nose against her cotton panties. I inhaled and smelled her hot moist sex through the material. I stood up and slipped my thumbs under the waistband and slid the panties off her long legs. I licked the moisture from them. The sun was gradually falling behind the giant oak in the back yard. Angela was totally naked in front of me, lying on the chase lounge. She still had her eyes closed as I put my right index finger into her mouth. She sucked it hard. I took it slid it down her body to the opening of her slit and rubbed against her wetness of her lips. I gently slid my finger into her tight pussy. She was very wet. I rubbed back and forth, looking for her G spot. She started to buck her hips against my hand, her pelvis gyrating from side to side. I leaned down and put my mouth on her exposed clit. She gasped as my tongue reached out and flicked her clit. "Mmmmm" "You like that?" "Very much." "More?" "Yes please." I withdrew my finger and licked it. I leaned forward and lapped at her opening, sucking her thick juices into my mouth. Her pussy was covered with short black hair. It felt good against my lips as I probed her clit with my tongue. I started with small, lazy circles, around her clit and then finally flicking it back and forth as fast as I could. The more I licked at her clit, the more she leaked her juices onto my face. I lapped at her, sliding my tongue into her pussy, and then finally inserting my finger again into her tight opening and rubbing against her G spot. I was having an effect on her. She had started with a low guttural moan. The more I licked and lapped, she began thrashing on the chair, her hips bucking against my face, pushing her clit against my mouth, randomly at first, then in a rhythmic wave, writhing her ass and rubbing hard against me. She reached down and grabbed my head, pulling me into her as she yelled out. It seemed like forever. Angela slumped to the lounge, her breathing hard, her body flushed. I looked at her pussy, covered with my spit and her come. She was absolutely gorgeous. Jeremy was a jerk. And I thanked him for it. "You sure know how to show a girl a good time," she said with a giggle. "I aim to please, maam." I sat on the edge of her chair, my hand resting on her thigh. "Is that all there is?" "What do you mean?" "Aren't I getting that," she said she slid her foot over and pushed at my cock through my shorts. "What about that?" "I don't think we should." "Why not?" "We shouldn't have done what ..." Despite my cock being rock hard, some part of my brain still functioned and was analyzing the situation. "You're a cunt tease, aren't you?" "A what?" "You heard me. You're a cunt tease. Get me all worked up, and then don't deliver. What's wrong, Uncle Jim, afraid I'm too much for you." She rubbed my cock harder. "That's it, isn't it? I'm too much." She sat up and got in my lap. We kissed for the first time, a long hard kiss, licking and probing each other's mouths. She sucked her juices off my face. "You know what? You're a good pussy licker. Let's see if you're a good pussy fucker." Angela stood and got me standing too. She pulled down my shorts. My cock stuck out and she grabbed it. She stroked me. "You know, I've heard you jerking off at night, watching those DVDs in your room." "What?" I know what you were doing. I heard sounds coming from your room at night, and I'd come to your door and push it open just a little bit, and I could see you jerking off. And I saw how big your cock was. Do you know what I would do?" My mouth was dry again. "What". "I'd stand at the door and start rubbing my clit and come along with you." She held onto me. "I can barely get my hand around it." She spit in her hand and returned it to my cock, stroking it again. "I've got someplace for this." "Yeah, where?" It was her turn to make me moan. "Someplace wet, tight, and warm." Angela pushed me onto the lounge and pushed my chest back. She straddled my hips and put the tip of my cock against her opening. She rubbed it back and forth, I thought to get me wet, but then realized that she was rubbing her clit with me. She closed her eyes, her hand nearly a blur as she rubbed my cock against her. The sensation was intense, the tip of my cock, back and forth against her pubic hair and rubbing hard against her clit. Just as I thought I might not last much longer, she squeezed me hard and her body stiffened, and a soft cry came from her lips. She had come again. "Hand me my purse," she said. Her eyes were glazed. She got out a condom and rolled it on me. She took my cock and slid it into her pussy. She was right, she was tight. Very tight. But she eased herself onto me, until I was buried in her. "Mmmmmm. That's just what I needed tonight." Angela started riding my cock like a woman possessed. Her eyes were closed, and she rhythmically slid up and down on my cock, slowly at first, taking long strokes on my cock, and gradually moving faster. Her eyes were shut tight as she concentrated my cock sliding in and out of her tight pussy. After a few minutes of hard riding, she came again hard, she moaned out and fell forward onto me, my cock falling out of her. She rested her weight on me, her breathing gradually becoming normal. "Listen. I've been with a few guys my age. And all of them would have finished by now. You're wearing me out." She kissed me, her lips were soft and she slipped her tongue into my mouth. "I think it's your turn to fuck me," she finally said. I got off the lounge and she lay down again. I climbed on top of her and she grabbed my cock and guided me into her. She was still very wet. I slowly started to increase my pace, faster, and pushing deep into her. She threw her head back and moaned a soft guttural cry as she pinched her nipples. "Fuck meeee," she said. I want to feel you shoot into me. Do you hear me? Fuck me and fill me with your cum." There was a clap of thunder in the sky and the hot afternoon cooled as it started to rain. Light drops at first, but steady, as our bodies quickly became wet from the welcomed rain. I looked down and saw my shaft sliding in and out her. It was a great sight and it made me pump faster. After about a minute I felt my back begin to tingle and a shot of heat ran from my balls to my feet. "That's it. Give it to me," she said as she grabbed my ass and ground herself against me. I shot into her, three, four, five spurts of cum, filling the condom. I collapsed onto her, breathing hard, resting my head on her chest as it continued to rain. "That's what I call a great finish," Angela said. She kissed me gently on the lips. We laid there for a few minutes, both of us thinking about what had happened. Another clap of thunder split the sky and lightening shot across the dark gray clouds. We grabbed our clothes and ran into the house. For the first time since my wife's death I felt alive and very uncertain of the future.