One Thousand Apologies
Chapter 1

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft, Teenagers, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Fiction, Tear Jerker, Sports, Incest, Cousins, First, Safe Sex, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Cream Pie, Small Breasts, Slow,

Desc: Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 1 - I was a nineteen year old virgin when I met my first love - she was my fourteen year old cousin.

Really, what did I have to complain about? I put the novel down on the stand beside my bed and thought about it. The girl in the book grew up dirt poor in the Deep South. We were rich enough - three bedrooms (even if one was made into a family room) and two cars. Even had a second TV, one of those little black-and-white ones, in the kitchen. Dad gave us a good life in the suburbs, better than he had growing up on a farm or Mom as a coal miner’s daughter – but most of the kids I knew were eager to get the hell out.

It was a dirty, dingy, dying steel town, like several in the valleys surrounding Pittsburgh – but for me, it was home. It was terrifying to picture myself anywhere else - all on my own, not knowing anyone. On the other hand, how could I stay in a place with twenty-five percent unemployment? I’d barely made it through two years of college while living at home and driving to the branch campus on the other side of town. In another two years I’d be out on my own regardless.

I looked at the calendar on the wall. Friday, July 20, 1979. Six weeks until school started again. Six months until a new decade, just over a year until I could vote for president for the first time. The day itself meant nothing to me. I grabbed a sock off the floor, balled it up, and fired it at the calendar.

The door opened and Dad’s head popped in. “If you’re looking for something productive to do, the lawn needs mowed.”

I sighed. “Yeah, okay, when do you...”


“I’m coming.”

He could’ve been harsher, like when he’d say, ‘Find a job yet?’ or ‘What kind of grades are these?’ but I’d learned a long time before to never talk back or say anything bad about my father. A downside of being an only child was having not having anyone else to vent to. Also - no one else to do the chores.

I retrieved the sock from the other side of the room and found the matching one on the desk. After grabbing my tennis shoes from under the bed I was on my way to the garage.

He still hadn’t thought it necessary to invest in any kind of power mower. Regardless of how hot it might be I needed to keep the push mower moving at a sufficient speed to keep the spiral blades spinning fast enough to chop the grass. Fortunately for me the yard wasn’t very big. The house and garage filled the long and narrow lot side-to-side, leaving three chunks of yard to attend to.

An hour later, having finished the lawn, I didn’t want to read anymore. I couldn’t sit still, cooped up in my room. I had to do something – but little satisfied me.

Heading out the door, keys in hand, my mother asked, “Joe Long – just where do you think you’re going?”

“Oh, sorry Mom - bowling alley. Won’t be long.”

“Supper’s in an hour. Don’t be late.”

The pinball machines suddenly sounded exciting and I didn’t have the patience to walk. Five minutes later I’d parked and headed inside, looking for an empty machine. Amy was there with another girl. She was always there. I swear she lived at those alleys. She looked over and sort of smiled. I muttered, “Hey” and stared for a second. I wanted to say more, but, as always, the words never formed.

‘Eh – maybe next time.’

‘How long are you gonna keep telling yourself that?’

She turned away, back to her friend and whatever they were talking about.

Once a machine became available, without a word and without paying much attention to anyone around me, I dropped a quarter in the slot and pressed the button on the front panel to start a new game. Mata Hari. Exotic dancer turned German spy and executed after the war. The game depicted her in a traditional Hindu outfit, with flowing robes from the waist down and a bikini type top, laying seductively on her side.

The silver metal ball was released and I pulled back gently on the plunger. The impact drove the ball at medium speed up the chute and into the play area. Bing-bing-bing-bing, my gentle nudges helped the ball shoot back and forth before it escaped the baffles and rolled unobstructed down the middle of the board. My middle finger flicked the button which commanded the flipper, driving the ball back up the board.

Left, right, up, down, fast, slow.

I knocked down a bank of targets to have them pop up again. I kept the ball moving well, but eventually and invariably the ball would find its way to a dead spot and leave the game.

Sometimes it was bad luck, sometimes bad play, the latter of which was becoming increasingly frequent as time went by. I only had one more quarter.

I’d bested it for a while, but the machine endured. You only get to play until you’ve used up the allocated number of failures. Then it was done and gone, just a memory.

At least I had baseball. The Pirates were on at seven-thirty and were only two and a half games out of first, having won four straight and eight of nine - but I’d miss some of it as I had to be down at the stadium at six to see if the coach would let me play in my summer league game.

By just past six I was in my usual spot on the bench in the bullpen, back against the fence that ran the length of the walkway in front of the stands. It offered a good view of the young ladies making their way from their seats to the restrooms and concession stands, then back again.

In the third inning I tapped my teammate Randy on the arm. “Whoa dude, look at this one coming.”

“Oh my. That’s Patty.”

“Yeah?” I asked.

“I know her from school. Why don’t you ask her out, instead of just gawking?”

I looked down and kicked at the dirt. “I don’t know.”

“Hell, I’ll introduce you.”

“It’s just...”

“Bullshit. Are you just going to do the five knuckle shuffle every night or...”

“Up yours.”

“Don’t you mean ‘up hers’?” He leaned in closer, slowly pistoning his fist in front of his chest. “Just look me in the eye and tell me you don’t do it.”

I drew in a deep breath but without a word let the air slide back out over my lips. Turning my eyes to the middle of the diamond, I yelled, “C’mon Jim - strike him out!”

Around ten the next morning I walked into the kitchen in time to hear my dad ask Mom, “Was that your sister Janet?” as she hung up the phone.

“Yep, all of them will be over in half an hour or so.”

I grinned. “About time we got to see them, it’s been over a month since they moved back from Texas.”

Dad, however, frowned. “Not like they were in our backyard - at least until now. No way I was driving over a hundred miles each way to sit and gab for a few hours.” He turned back to Mom. “How many husbands is this for her?”

“Well, let me...”

I cut her off. “Two, actually. She married the first one, Dave’s dad, but not Hannah’s or Donna’s.”

They both stared at me and Dad snapped, “That was rude. Your mother was talking.”

I looked down and shuffled my feet. “I’m sorry. I just remember yunz talking about it.”

Dad stared into space for a moment then said to Mom, “Yeah, I remember that winner. Thought he was all hot shit with his red Camaro. You say this one’s a real estate agent?”

Mom said, “That’s the story. Not long after she and the kids moved in with Dad he had her out looking for a house. Apparently she hooked up with a realtor in more ways than one – and now she’s living in his house.”

“I think I was only like thirteen last time they came to a reunion - yeah, that’s right - six years ago, the summer Pete Rose beat out Willie Stargell for the M.V.P.”

Dad looked me over and shook his head. “Well, if you want to see them this time you better go get presentable. Throw on a pair of pants for starters ... then shave or something?”

My neck was still stinging from razor burns as a BMW pulled into the driveway. Moments later the women were already hugging as my aunt said, “Oh Meredith, It’s been too long!”

Then she turned and wrapped her arms around me, “And my favorite nephew...” I had to admit that Aunt Janet still looked (and felt) pretty good, even at thirty-six.

Her new husband looked to be about fifty as I watched him greet my father. “Michael Roudabush - pleased to meet you.”

“Michael - I’m Chris Long.”

“Oh, call me Mickey - I’ve heard a lot about your family.”

“And I’ve seen your face on billboards for a long time.”

Mickey smiled. “What do you again?”

“Teach algebra and calculus to the little brats out at the high school.”

As he and Dad continued to talk, the kids were jumping out of the back seat - first Dave, hard to miss at well over six feet, then ... then...

‘Ho. Lee. Shit. Is that Hannah?

I felt like a force field had passed through my body, leaving me a little dizzy. These big, round, grey eyes, with light brown hair that flowed over her shoulders and a gorgeous smile with her pearly whites framed by oh so red lips. A quick glance down saw that although her boobs were small she had perfectly tanned and toned thighs. But it was her eyes, her eyes and her smile, that had me transfixed. I found myself getting hard just looking at that smile.

‘She’s your cousin!’

Dave broke me out of my trance when he shook my hand and said, “Hey man, how you doing? Looks like we’re going to be neighbors!”

“Oh, yeah, hi - you gonna play ball this summer?”

“I really want to. I know you guys already started, but it would be great if you could help me schedule some tryouts.”

“Yeah, um ... we’re more than halfway through the season, but I’ll see what I can do.”

By then Hannah had already said “Hi” to my parents and was pushing in next to Dave. She reached out her hand, which instead of shaking I lightly held in mine. It was soft, warm and dry. “Wow Hannah, you’ve, um ... grown so much since the last time I saw you.” My chest tightened and I once again felt a tingling sensation sweep my body.

She blushed slightly and then smirked. “Well you look all grown up too, Joe.”

‘Five-one?’ I thought as I realized her head could probably fit under my chin. “So how old are you now?”

“Almost fifteen - I’ll be going to ninth grade in the fall.”

‘Damn.’ If I didn’t know better I would’ve sworn she was at least sixteen.

Her mother cut in with, “Oh, you got another four months ‘til your birthday!” then turned back to tell my mother, “Kids, they want to grow up so fast these days!”

I just smiled at my aunt, then Hannah leaned close to me and whispered, “I am grown up!”

I chuckled but decided to leave that one alone. “I’m going to be a junior in college. Your school’s gonna be right acrossed the street from mine!”


Then her little sister, by two years, hit me in the arm. “Heeeey Joe.” She was actually a little taller than Hannah, an okay face, almost no boobs and a decent amount of baby fat lower down below - not that I was looking.

“Heeeey Donna”.

‘That was weird.’

After a few more minutes of idle chit-chat, my heart was pounding out of my chest. I asked to be excused and headed into the house. Checking that I wasn’t being followed, I bolted up the stairs to my room. Once there, I went to the front window and peeked through a space between the drapes, being careful not to be seen.

I watched her smile and laugh as she continued talking to my family and hers.

‘I can’t believe how beautiful she is.’

‘Ten, eleven... ‘

‘That face – and oh my God that ass!’

‘Twenty-two, twenty-three... ‘

I closed my eyes, squeezed tighter, and imagined her smiling up at me...

“thirty ... three ... thir ... TY ... FOUR!”

My body stiffened and shook for what must have been ten seconds as I felt the warmth running over the back of my hand.

‘Well, that didn’t take long.’

I heard the front door close and had to stumble around for a Kleenex while my pants were still around my knees.

“Nineteen years old and still a God damn virgin” I muttered to myself.

Mom called out, “Joe, come on down for lunch!”

I quickly rearranged myself, slipped into the bathroom where I disposed of my goods down the toilet, then headed downstairs. When I got to the kitchen Mom asked, “Are you alright honey? You look a little flushed.”

“Nah, I’m fine, just a little hot out.”

Mom had set out sandwich stuff and drinks on the dining room table. I piled enough meat and cheese for two and made my way to the living room where Dad was showing Mickey his gun collection.

When Dave followed me in, I pointed to the couch and he plopped down beside me. I asked, “So, you follow the Pirates?”

“After we moved back. San Antonio’s got a minor league team, but that’s it - so the best I could do there was read the box scores in the paper. But I want to hear about you - what position do you play?”

I could hear the women talking in the kitchen, and assumed Hannah was still with them. “Pitcher - I’m not too bad, and I get some time in the outfield - but I’ve been hitting for crap lately.”

“How hard do you throw?”

I could see Hannah at the dining room table getting her food.

‘Don’t stare - only a second or two.’

“I dunno, probably in the top ten, but I gotta throw more strikes. I know there’s not much pro potential for a guy who’s five-nine and can’t make his college team.”

“Well, I’ve got about seven inches on you. I’m hoping I can get a scholarship somewhere a year from now. Good lefties don’t grow on trees, you know?”

Hannah and both our moms were moving towards the chairs by the fireplace.

‘Don’t turn your head, just sweep the room when there’s movement.’

“For this summer, we have three weeks left to play. There are games at six Monday through Friday, with makeups on the weekends - and there’s usually a double-header at the stadium downtown.”

Hannah’s thigh was in my plain view as her brother said, “Doesn’t give me long to line up a girlfriend!”


“Well, I don’t want to go home alone after the games!”

As I chuckled, I glanced over again to see Hannah leaning back to stretch, shoving her chest into her t-shirt. Blowing my load had helped to let off some of my steam, but that was not the time for me to have another erection, surrounded by family. Thinking of that, I began to realize how much Hannah looked like my mother. There were some features many of the Mathiesen women shared, and I was trying to picture Mom twenty-five years younger.

“Earth to Joe?” I heard Dave call out.

I sputtered “Wait, I’m sorry ... what?” as I tried to focus my mind back to the guy beside me.

“You seem to be really lost in space today. I was saying, do you have a girlfriend?”

Oh, anything but that. I squirmed and muttered, “Uh, well ... no...”

He leaned close and whispered, “What’s the matter, you gay?”

“Oh hell no ... it’s just, well, I get so nervous around girls. It’s like ... this isn’t easy...” I ran my hand through my hair. “Do you know what it’s like to want something so bad, but be so afraid to try? Afraid of being shut down?”


“Dammit! You’re no help.”

He slapped me on the arm. “Don’t worry cuz. No problems here. Just stick with me - I’ll get you hooked up.”

“Uh – okay.”

An hour later our guests were preparing to head home. Mom, Dad and I stood in line in the driveway, reversing the earlier process of greeting.

I shook Mickey’s hand, letting him know I’d look forward to seeing him again. Next Aunt Janet kissed me on the cheek. A fist bump with Dave, and a “See ya” to Donna.

Hannah hugged my mother briefly, then stepped in front of me, our two sets of eyes scanning each other from head to toe. After that pause she held out her arms in invitation, and I stepped forward to wrap mine around her.

Not too tightly, but enough to feel the warmth of her body. Close enough to smell the strawberry scent on her hair. Goose bumps swept my body.

I squeezed then released her, stepping back to see her smiling at me. I grinned awkwardly and stared as she walked away.

As the car disappeared down the street Dad turned to Mom and asked, “Seems like a nice guy. Wonder how long he’ll be around?”

“I wonder how many blow jobs it took to get the ring so quickly. She never did marry Tom.”

I snapped my head back and forth at them before asking Mom, “How can you say that about your sister?”

“She’s always had a problem hanging on to a guy - three kids, three last names?”

“She was with Tom for over ten years. It wasn’t her fault he died!”

“Shacking up with a man thirty years older than her didn’t help any. Look, I love my sister, but she’s known this guy a month or two and she’s already said ‘I do’ and hauled her kids into his house.”

Dad continued, “Son, your grandparents had high hopes for Janet, she had good grades and was headed to college - but she was also boy crazy and ended up dropping out her senior year when she got knocked up with Dave.”

“Well, Mom did go to college, at least until she got pregnant with me, so what’s the difference?”

Mom was turning red but Dad fairly well kept his cool as he snapped back, “Boy, don’t you have something to do in your room?”

I stammered, “Yeah ... uh ... I’ll find something.”

That night I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling as the radio played the rock station out of Chicago at a very low volume. I muttered out loud, “Dammit - I finally say more than two words to a hot girl and she has to be my cousin.” I reached for the Kleenexes.

Dave had his tryout, and as expected was snatched up by the sixth place team. We got a laugh that I was playing for Pepsi-Cola, while he got picked by Coca-Cola.

His first game was Tuesday, and Aunt Janet asked if I could give the kids a ride home from the stadium as she had to be at work before the game was over.

My game was at six. I didn’t play, and was still in uniform when I arrived at the stadium ten minutes after my game was over. It was almost eight thirty and Dave’s game was in the second inning.

I spotted Janet and the girls in the scout seats between the press box and the third base dugout and went over to join them. It was a great place to watch the game, as it was only a few feet from the on-deck circle, and just outside the door at the end of the press box.

My aunt gave a big smile when she saw me approach. “Hey Joe, thanks for coming. I have to get to work, but here’s ten dollars in case the girls want anything.” Turning to her daughters, she continued, “Girls, you be good for Joe. Bye!”, then gave me yet another kiss on the cheek on her way past. She may have been thirty-six, but it was hard not to give a glance as she walked away.

As I dropped myself into the first row seat beside Hannah, she gave me an irritated glare and snapped, “What, are you going to be our baby-sitter now?”

“C’mon, lighten up, I’m just here to give you a ride home after I make sure you don’t get kidnapped or anything. It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other.” I seriously hoped she wouldn’t give me a hard time, as that was the first chance we had to talk.

Donna had other ideas than hanging with us. “Hey, not that y’all are boring or anything, but I want to go wander around. Can you give me a couple bucks?”

I thought she was working the piggy bank awfully quick, but I didn’t mind seeing her go. “Yeah, sure thing Donna, bye - just don’t leave the stadium!”

She looked back over her shoulder and said, “Thanks, come get me if I’m not back when it’s time to go.” Right, assuming I would know where she was!

With my wallet out, Hannah took the opportunity to ask, “Joe, will you get me a couple wieners and a soda?”

“Okay, sure thing, I’ll be back in a few minutes, if there’s no line.”

It took a second for her language to register in my brain, so as I stood I turned back and corrected her. “But if you’re going to be a real yinzer, you need to know that’s a couple hot dogs and some pop.”

“Oh - Same difference! And mustard and onions, if you can!”

As I smiled and left, I found myself thinking, ‘You going for that or what?’

‘Like my cousin is gonna get naked with me.’

‘You know you want it.’

‘Shut up.’

I returned about five minutes later to see Hannah intently watching the game. I sat back down beside her and presented the food order, which included some fries for myself.

Grabbing one of my fries, she waved towards the field and asked, “Do you know all these guys?”

“I know most of their names, and there’s a fair number I’m friends with. More than half are in college, and we come from more than ten different high schools in the area, so for most I only get to see them in the summer.”

Will Martin was the first batter in the fourth, and was out taking his practice swings in the on deck circle, not ten feet from us. As I dipped a fry in the ketchup, Hannah leaned in to whisper, “What’s his name? He’s got a nice butt!”

Slightly shocked and embarrassed, I whispered back, “Shhh, he can hear you!”


“So – he’s twenty years old!”

“And what am I, a baby?”

“No! C’mon - you know what I mean.”

She scrunched up her face and gave me a stare. “Yeah, you’re an old fuddy duddy. I just like to say what I think - lighten up!”

She didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, munching on her dog until I reached over to wipe some mustard off the corner of her mouth. She turned to stare at me, broke into a grin, then grabbed for my bag of fries - which led to a playful little hand battle as I tried her to bat her prying fingers away from my food.

As this was going on, and into the chit-chat that followed, several of the players shot us glances as they waited in the on-deck circle for their turn at bat.

After a while Hannah noticed their attention and asked, “Why are they looking over here?”

“Because I’m sitting with a girl and talking to her.”

She looked confused. “Is that something unusual?”

“Well...” I took a deep breath and then exhaled, “I haven’t had too much luck with girls yet.”

“You’re a good looking guy, what’s the matter?”

It was a little frustrating to have to explain it yet again. “I get scared around girls, afraid to do the wrong thing and have them hate me. It’s been getting better, but it’s still something I have to work at.”

“You’re doing fine talking to me.”

She was right. Despite a few up and downs, I had been quite as ease with her. “You’re my cousin, I’m not trying to hit on you.”

She leaned towards me and rubbed her left hand over my chest. “They don’t have to know that. What if I give you a big sloppy wet kiss, will that help your reputation?”

I felt the warmth of her hand on my breast, her palm rubbing over my nipple.

‘Oh my God, was she just teasing me?’

My breath got a little short and I felt some stirring down below. “I’m sure it would” I gulped.

Backing off, with a look of shock on her face, she said, “So you’re sitting with me to boost your reputation?”

“No, that’s not what I meant!”

She punched me in the left arm and said “Take a chill pill, I was teasing – so what have you been doing to get more comfortable around girls?”

I swore she girl was going to kill me. “Well, my mom got a CB radio for the car last year.”

“And how does that help?”

Luckily for me, it was not the first time I had explained it. “Normally someone sees a girl, or a guy, and if there’s a physical attraction, you have to figure out how to go talk to them without scaring them off. On the radio, you talk first, find out who’s a nice person, then arrange a meet up to see what they look like. Then you can either ask them out or continue being friends.”

She nodded, “Does it work?”

“Definitely. It’s so much easier to just be myself, and learn to like girls for who they are, not just what they look like.”

Striking a pose, she teased, “That’s a good thing - we are much more than just our good looks! So what’s your handle?”


She looked clueless. “What’s Spock?”

“Really? Mr. Spock, the science officer of the Starship Enterprise?”

A blank stare. I continued, “Star Trek, with Captain Kirk.”

“Oh, Star Track? That Saturday morning cartoon?”

My face went down into the palms of my hands, shaking my head back and forth. I came back up and looked her in the eyes. “NOOOO! It was a TV show, from sixty-six to sixty-nine, with Kirk, Spock, Dr. McCoy, Scotty, Sulu...”

“I was like born in sixty-four, you expect me to remember that?”

She had me there. I was seven when the show started, while she was still in diapers. “Yeah, that would be a problem. But they’re coming out with a movie in December! I can’t wait to see it.”

“I’ve seen Star Wars!”

Not the same thing!” I knew the girl would need some re-education.

“Okay - so why are you Spock?”

“He’s the science officer, the smartest guy, no emotion...”

With that, a voice called out from inside the press box, “and he’s the one who never got laid!”

I snapped back “That’s not true, there was that cave woman on the ice planet!”

Hannah stared right into my eyes. “And this is the show you drool over?”

“You’d like it if you saw it.”

“And who was that yelling at you?”

“My so called friend Paul, he likes to give me shit.”

She narrowed her eyes and gave me a little stare, then returned to normal. “Can you get me some ice cream?”

“Yeah, sure thing.” A few minutes later I was jogging down the concourse, trying to get the Klondike bar to her before it started melting inside the chocolate.

As she peeled back the foil wrapper, Hannah continued with the interview. “Okay Spock, what are you taking in college?”

I liked that she was asking all the questions. I didn’t have to contrive any witty banter, so I could just lean back and share my life story, as boring as that was. “Math and computer science, and I’ve taken a few econ courses as well.”

“And what kind of grades do you get?”

Dammit, she had to ask that. “Well, uh - okay! I have a one point eight GPA.”

Her eyes went wide in shock. “One point eight? That’s a D, right? I thought you were the brainiac? Mom’s always saying how smart Joe is, Joe this, Joe that - and you have a one point eight GPA?”

That hurt. “Math is fucking hard!”


Still stinging, I shot back “Now who’s being the baby sitter?”

She took a more serious look. “Well, sorry about being snippy before with the baby sitter crack, but I just don’t like anyone telling me what to do. And I don’t like people swearing.”

I felt the need to be sarcastic. “Oh, I’m sorry, your Royal Highness!”

“Now you’ve got it! Just remember that, and we’ll get along fine!”

Actually, that cracked me up, and broke the tension as we laughed together.

She continued, “Back to where we were – what’s so hard about math?”

More life history, one more time to explain my failure in college. “I did pretty good in high school, A’s and B’s, even took calculus in twelfth grade. I was always playing with numbers, so I thought that was what I was good at. Then I get to college and math majors not only have to know the rules, like to get the mean of a set of numbers, you add them up and divided by how many...”

“Well any idiot knows that!”

“ ... but they want math majors to be able to prove it! There might be three questions on a test. Don’t do homework for a night, forget your book, forget your calculator, and you’re screwed. That’s just not how I work.”

I was getting tired of talking about how I wasn’t good enough, I got enough of that from my dad. I needed to direct the questions to her. “So what did you get in math?”

“A. and an A in History, and an A in English. In fact, I’ve had straight A’s since Third grade!”

‘Shit’, I thought, that was not what I expected.

She started doing this little victory dance, shaking her hips and shoulders side to side, hands pointing to the sky, as she called out “Woot, woot, I’m smarter than the brain!”

Her Klondike bar was by then melting in the heat, and drops started to fly around as she waved her hands in dance. Realizing the mess and apparently no longer interested in eating, she said “Here, eat this!” shoving the half liquid ice cream wrapped in chocolate towards me. The guys around us were quickly doubled over in laughter.

Taking the Klondike from her as carefully as I could, I had to ask “How can you eat all that stuff? Keep it up and you’ll look like a whale!”

“You calling me a whale?”

“No, I, uh...”

“I have you know I run track to keep this figure, and I throw the discus and shot put as well.” She stood, sticking her hip towards me, running her hand along her thigh, from her belt to her knee.

My eyes went wide as they surveyed down, and then back up her legs, lingering at her ass.

“You looking at my butt?”

I muttered something and started to panic, feeling like a deer in the head lights. Why did she seem to delight in torturing me?

She gave this evil little smile and pinched my right cheek. “Oh, you’re so cute when you don’t know what to say. I have the smart guy speechless!”

Her touch was electric, but I saw an opening and hissed “Now stop that!” while I poked a finger in her side. It was if I had shot her, she doubled over and tried to get away as she burst out laughing.

I reached out again to work the fingers of both hands on her waist. “Oh, someone’s ticklish, I’ll have to remember that!” My hands on her body was getting me hard fast.

Hannah broke free and extended her right arm poking a finger in my face. “Oh don’t you dare, I can kick your butt too!”

Standing to lean over her, I shot back “Oh yeah? I’ve got over six inches on you.”

“You have to catch me first.”

“What is it, are you going to run or fight?”

“I’ll do whatever I want!”

It was turning out to be so much fun.

“Ahem. Hey guys” We both looked up to see Dave standing on the other side of the screen, a bat in his hand. “In case you two are still interested in baseball, I’m going in to pinch hit.”

Still chuckling, we both settled back in our seats to face the field. I tugged near my pocket to avoid a tent in my pants. I couldn’t be sure if I had caught Hannah glancing over, eyes down.

Just then, Paul’s voice bellowed over the stadium P.A., “Now pinch hitting for Coca-Cola, number thirty-seven, Dave Carter”, as Hannah and I joined in the light applause.

Hannah was then on her feet, face to the screen, yelling “c’mon Dave, rip this guy!”

Up to that point, I had been paying very little attention to the game. It was the bottom of the fifth, Coke had runners on first and second with two outs, but Sheraton was ahead three to two.

Dave settled into the left handed batter’s box, swung the bat a couple times over the plate, and awaited the first pitch. It was a curve from the right handed pitcher that looked outside, but the umpire called it strike.

“Get a clue ump!” roared out from beside me. Wow, I was amazed at how much she could get into this, at least when her brother was playing.

The next pitch was again a curve, but caught too much of the plate. Dave reached out and lined it over the first baseman’s head. The ball rolled down into the corner, and with two outs both runners scored easily. Dave stood at second base with Coke now ahead four to three.

Hannah had squeezed past me and was in the aisle, yelling “Woo, woo, way to go Dave” as she bounced up and down on the steps, hands held high. My eyes were focused on other things that were bouncing up and down.

The next batter bounced back to the pitcher to end the inning, and one of his teammates took Dave’s first base glove out to him, waiting near the bag to play defense in the next half inning.

I took advantage of the break in our conversation to ask Hannah “C’mon into the press box, I want you to meet my friend Paul, we’ve been tight since like kindergarten.”

As we walked through the door, Paul’s voice filled the small room. “Petey! Who’s your girlfriend?”

“She’s my cousin.”

Paul was relentless. “Sarcasm detector broken? I knew she wasn’t your girlfriend.”

“Remind me why we’re friends? And look who’s talking, Paul.”

“I’m still looking for a nice Jewish girl.”

Still standing beside me, Hannah gave me a poke. “Who’s Petey?”

“Me. Joseph Peter Long, and Paul seems to think the ‘Peter Long‘ part of that is hilarious, and just likes to constantly call attention to it. He really can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

Hannah got a big grin and joked, “It’s not like your name is Dick Head or Harry Dick or something! Now that would be bad.” That got everyone in the press box laughing.

“Well, anyway, Paul, this is my cousin Hannah, she’s Dave Carter’s sister, the guy who just got that hit for Coke. They’ve been out in Texas for a few years and just moved here. She’s got another younger sister - around here somewhere. They like to come to the games, and I’ve been hanging out with them, catching up on lost time.”

Hannah cut in to say, “And now my mom has him babysitting me!

Paul gave her a look over and said, “Looks like you’re old enough to take care of yourself.”

Hannah poked an elbow in my ribs as she answered, “That’s what I told him.”

Paul had the Pirates’ game on his transistor radio, setting on the counter and playing at a medium volume. I helped Hannah into a folding chair that looked out through the plexiglass onto the playing field. I then took the seat to her left, on the other side of her from Paul.

A couple minutes later Paul took a phone call. From hearing his end of the conversation he wasn’t quite happy with what he heard and was brooding afterwards as he worked the scoreboard and announced the batters.

On the radio, the Pirates were hosting Cincinnati and were trailing by a run in the top of the seventh. Upon hearing the call of Ken Griffey’s homer for the Reds, Paul banged the counter and yelled “son of a bitch!”

After about ten seconds of silence, Hannah looked over at Paul and said, “Wow, you look like you need a blow job!”

Paul was flabbergasted. His eyes went big as he called out, “Whoa!”, and he nearly fell out of his chair as he leaned back and yelled “Petey!”

I was just as stunned. “WHAT?”

Picking himself up, Paul said, “You’re the one who brought her!”

Hannah just stared at him as the tears formed in her eyes, then turned and ran out the door, stopping on the stairs near where we had been sitting. I ran after her, but she pushed away any attempts of mine to touch her or talk to her.

I was furious. “Paul, get the hell out here and apologize to her!”

He came out to us with a genuine look of concern on his face. “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything. Joe will tell you, I like to joke around and rag on people, and you just totally caught me off guard with that.”

Hannah sniffled and wiped her eye. She slowly looked up at me then turned her head to Paul. Hesitantly, she spoke, “Oh. kay – I didn’t expect you to get angry.”

“Honest, I wasn’t angry, just surprised.”

Trying to comfort her, I said, “Game’s almost over, let’s walk down by Dave’s dugout so we can get him and Donna and I’ll take you guys home.”

On the highway back to their house, Dave did most of the talking, bragging about his game and I filled him in on the Pirates’ loss. Hannah was generally quiet, but let Dave know that she and I had a good long talk to get to know each other. “I have lots of things to tell you when we get home!”

After pulling in their driveway I got out of the car with them. Hannah came over and gave me a hug. “Thanks for sticking up for me, I’m feeling better. I really did enjoy getting to talk to you tonight, especially now that I can tell mom that I’m smarter than you!”

“A pleasure speaking to you too, your highness.”

“I think ‘Princess‘ will be sufficient, yes - I am the Princess.”

She gave me a thumbs up as she headed into the house, while Dave rolled his eyes, silently mouthing “Princess.”

It was around eight the next morning when mom called upstairs, “Joe, Paul’s on the phone!”

Life as an only child allowed me some luxuries such as wearing boxers as I made my way down to the kitchen to answer the phone. “Joe, put some clothes on and come down to the playground to shoot hoops with me.”

I wasn’t much of a basketball player, as I think my brain is wired to throw everything like a baseball, but it was nice to have a chance to limber up in the cooler morning air. It was still only sixty-five out as I threw on some sneakers, shorts and a t-shirt and headed off to my old elementary school, midway between our houses.

He was already hitting the ball off the backboard when I got there, and without turning to look greeted me with, “So what’s up with your psycho cousin?” Paul was a smart-ass but I could always trust him for an objective analysis of my life.

“She’s not psycho, just a little bit out-spoken, I guess” I responded as Paul passed me the ball, but my shot nearly missed the entire backboard.

“Well, I might have taken her up on that blow job, but I don’t really look good in an orange jump suit.”

I wondered if there something that attracted me to out-spoken people. Maybe it was my fear of offending someone, especially an object of my affection (or should I say lust), which made me admire people who didn’t have those hang ups.

I also didn’t care for factual inaccuracies. “She didn’t say she was going to do it, just that you looked like you needed one.”

“True, I’ll have to give her credit on that”, Paul said as he hit all net.

“Don’t look at me, I’m sure as hell not going to blow you.” This time I did miss the backboard and Paul went to chase it down.

Returning, he gave a big smile as he asked “So when are you going to tap that?”

“She’s my cousin, for Christ’s sake.”

“Oh don’t tell me you haven’t thought of it”, Paul said as he gave me a hard two hand pass, and then continued “but yeah, you’re not getting anything off of her. You two look like an old married couple sitting out there. She’s got you whipped already, lover boy. You still a virgin? I think you need to let off some steam somewhere, and I’m not talking Lady Palm and her five daughters.”

I banked the shot in, my first and only of the morning. “Well, now that I scored, I’m going home to get a shower. See you later.”

We played Coke that night out at the park, with Dave getting his first start as a pitcher. Before the game I was shagging balls in left field and he came over to chat.

“Hey man, Hannah was telling me how you hook up with chicks on the C.B.”

I frowned. “I wouldn’t call it hooking up, but yeah, you can get on the radio and see if they want you to stop by somewhere for a face to face.”

“Well I don’t know my way around town yet, and it’s hard as hell to get a car with mom and Mickey both working – so I’m about ready to bust a nut. I haven’t been with anyone since I got here.”

I had to laugh. “Poor baby, why don’t you just go to the bathroom and take care of it yourself?”

“This dick is made for chicks, jacking off is for wimps.”

I couldn’t let that go unchallenged. “I’m hitting tonight, I’ll show you who’s a wimp.”

“Well anyway, how about we go cruising after the game Friday. I play the early game at the stadium, and can hang around until you’re done with the late game. Mom can take the girls home.”

It sounded like he had it all worked out. “Okay - Friday, I’ll show you the town.”

Left field and batting ninth. Not very glorious, but the way I had been hitting, unless I was pitching I was lucky to be in the lineup at all. I could still picture batting practices during sixteen year old tryouts. The coach was a thirty-seven year old former minor league pitcher. “I’m going to throw it as hard as I can, show me what you can do.” The first pitch bounced into the left field stands. The second landed half way up. The third cleared everything and landed in someone’s backyard. I made the team, but rode the bench with a good veteran squad, playing maybe one game a week, but I was proud to wear the uniform. Then dad wouldn’t let me play at seventeen while he insisted I looked for a job in a town with twenty percent unemployment. After that year off my timing was shot, causing me to swing and miss at way too many pitches.

In the first two innings, I could see Aunt Janet, Hannah and Donna sitting in the first base bleachers, not fifteen feet from the base line, and they all gave me excited waves as I came jogging in from left. When I finally stepped into the batter’s box in the third inning, they weren’t as kind, with their son/brother on the mound (even if I knew it was all in good fun.)

Hannah’s voice boomed over the infield. “C’mon, Dave, strike the bum out!”

I looked up to give her a death stare, and she stuck out her tongue in response. It would have added to my legend if I hadn’t swung through the high two ball/two strike fastball for strike three. I muttered, ‘Son of a bitch’ on the way back to the dugout.

I managed a walk and a grounder to short the other two times up, but Dave had a hell of a game, beating us three to one, with nine K’s in a seven inning complete game. The game was over just after eight and I met up with the family behind the backstop.

Dave deserved his congratulations “Great game man, but you’re lucky I didn’t take you deep!”

“Yeah right - you’d be the lucky one.”

Hannah snuggled up beside me, and with both hands around my right arm looked up with these big puppy dog eyes, the sarcasm just dripping off her voice as she cooed “Oh, I’m so sorry for picking on you! But he is my big brother you know, got to stick with family.”

There were lots of fans, players and their families milling around. Anyone who saw us, and didn’t know she was my cousin, would have thought...

‘Fuck it, why do I need to tell anyone?’

Friday night Dave played the early game and me the late one at the stadium. I got there around seven thirty and sat with Janet and the girls before I had to be on the field to get ready for my game. I hadn’t eaten yet so I got some chicken and fries at the concession stand. Again Hannah made a little game, with me batting away her hand as she tried to sneak a fry from my tray. I teased her, offering a fry and pulling it back.

I reminded Aunt Janet that Dave was staying and that I’d bring him home, but it might not be until around eleven. She was fine with that, but reminded me, “No drinking!”

Hannah was upset and whined, “Mom, can’t I stay and watch Joe’s game? He can bring me home too!”

How was I going to put it? I didn’t want to offend her. “Dave and I are going to go do some guy stuff, he wanted it to be just the two of us.”

I don’t know how well Aunt Janet decoded my language, but she backed me up. “C’mon honey, Joe and Aunt Meredith and Uncle Chris are coming to our pool party tomorrow, you can see all of them then.” Hannah didn’t seem satisfied and turned back to the game, saying very little to me over the final inning.

I pinch ran in the sixth and played right field for an inning. Again, not much for me, but we won six to two, were still in second place, and looked like a lock for the playoffs.

After the game I met Dave on the concourse and we walked out to my car, where we stripped off our uniforms and got back into our street clothes. I told him about Hannah’s little snit when she was told she couldn’t stay and go out with us.

He spit out, “Fuck her” in response.

Without really thinking I replied, “The thought had crossed my mind.”


It took about five minutes to get to one of the middle class neighborhoods on the other side of downtown. I figured if I parked there we’d be close to many potential meeting places. Most of the teenagers hung out on channel eleven, but that one was really crowded, so any ‘private’ (it was still over the public air waves, anyone could listen in) conversations were usually taken to another, less used, channel. We were on the radio, trading the mike back and forth, for maybe fifteen minutes when ‘Tweety Bird’ arrived, a young girl I’d talked to before.

Dave wanted to take the lead. “Breaker, breaker, how about that Tweety Bird.”

In her little bit of a deeper voice she replied, “This is Tweety Bird.”

“This Sylvester, how you doing tonight, hon.”

Sylvester? I wasn’t quite sure where he was going with that.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you on here before, Sylvester. How did you get that handle?”

Dave thought he was so smooth.

“Well, what does Sylvester always want to do to Tweety Bird?”

We heard her mike click, but only dead air for a second or two until we heard her giggling. “So where you at?”

I whispered Dave our location, and he repeated it the radio. “We’re on DuPont Street. Is that close to you?”

“A few blocks - we?”

“Yeah, my cousin’s with me. How about we stop by?

“Uh ... okay! Sounds like fun.” She gave us directions to meet in an alley along the river, behind the apartments where she lived.

We were there in a flash, and spotted the girl, maybe five-six, waiting under a street lamp. She was fairly nice – slender with perky boobs and a pleasant smile. When we got out she said, “Hi, I’m Julie - got any smokes?”

I looked at Dave then shook my head. “Sorry, no. I’m Joe. My handle’s Spock - and this is my cousin Dave.”

With long unkempt hair tossed over her shoulders, and wearing a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts, she was leaning against a wall, one of her knees bent with that foot on the wall as well. She was eying us up too when she asked, “Yeah, I remember you - so how old are yunz guys?”

I said, “Nineteen, and he’s seventeen. You’re fourteen, right?”

Just then the night air was pierced with a loud cry, “HEY! Get the hell out of here! Ain’t none a’yunz going to be fucking my little sister! Git, right now, before I call the cops on yunz.”

The Amazon of an older sister didn’t have to tell us twice, we were in the car and down the alley, having a good laugh as we sped away.

As we composed ourselves I made our way back downtown as Dave got back on the radio. Soon “Always Smooth” was chatting up “Sunshine” who did have a rather sexy voice. I wondered how he thought up those new handles so quickly.

Even as it was by then quite dark out, Sunshine invited us up to her place which apparently was at the end of a dirt road that made it’s way up the side of the mountain, past the west end of town. I had to navigate my way slowly until we saw the porch light on a rather run down two story house in the middle of the woods, leaving me to wonder why there weren’t any sluts on the C.B. from nice middle class neighborhoods.

We could see Miss Sunshine on the porch as I stopped and cut the engine. From twenty yards, she was looking pretty good. Tall and slender with long hair, nice boobs and butt. Once she got close enough to the car, even in the low light, I could tell that this “ten” body went with a “two” face. She was missing a few teeth, had a fairly large nose, and I thought I saw a wart.

Dave didn’t seem to care. He got right out and said, “Hi, I’m Dave” as they moved to the back of the car.

“Ooh, you’re cute - I’m Margie. Are you as big down there?”

Still in the driver’s seat, I could see them in the side mirror as they embraced and kissed. The next thing I knew she was yanking down Dave’s jeans, his bare ass then pressed against the side of my car. She was down on her knees, stroking and sucking Dave’s cock to bring it to full attention. Once he was erect, I could hear her gags as Dave had his hands on her head, fucking Sunshine’s throat. I have to confess it was getting me hard watching.

Another couple minutes and then the car was wobbling from Dave pushing against it with his hips. He groaned and cried out, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, drink it all bitch”, smacking his hand repeatedly on the side of my car as he shot his load down her throat.

As Dave got to pulling his pants back on, Sunshine came over to my window, leaned in and asked, “How about you?”

I tapped the corner of my mouth to indicate she still had some cum stuck to her face, and stoically replied, “Thanks, but - I don’t think so.”

As she waved and invited us back anytime, Dave got back in the passenger’s seat and I hit the ignition and started back down the mountain. “Dude, why didn’t you want some of that? It’s been awhile since I’ve had anyone blow me that good!”

“I just wasn’t into it, man. Let me tell you, this spring I was at a Friday night kegger at school, like I am most every week. I had my eyes on a couple girls, but of course my words weren’t quite smooth enough, or I waited too long, and suddenly it’s one a.m. when I feel a hand playing with the back of my thigh. The girl was big, I don’t know, huge...”

“A real porker? You into that?”

“Well, no - but she wanted some of me so I was like ‘what the fuck, why not?‘ We went back to her room, three feet from her passed out roommate...”

“Should’ve had a threesome!”

“Nah, that chick was out of it – but anyway, this girl made quick work of getting it out of my pants and into her mouth. She was going at it, but I wanted to fuck her - you know, finally lose my virginity n’at - but when I went to pull her pants off she said she couldn’t do it without protection...”

“The bitch! Did she at least finish you?”

Fuck no! Then it’s like three times a week I see her in one of my classes, and she’s fat, and I really don’t know her, and every time she makes some stupid liberal comment I’m thinking ‘you sucked my cock!‘ I hate that. I want it to be with someone I really care about. You know, the two of us, together as one.”

“That’s why you’re still a virgin, man.”

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