Stonefingers
Chapter 8

Copyright© 2016 by Tony Stevens

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 8 - Marty Coggins was just an oversized small-town boy from New Mexico who wanted to play in the big leagues. Trouble was, Marty was a terrible defensive player. And he'd been drafted by a National League club. No future for lousy fielders in the NL. But Marty could flat-out hit. Nothing to do but keep on keeping on.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Sports   Oral Sex   Slow   Nudism  

The road trip was only 9 games, but it seemed like 19. In my short time with the Gabriel family, it felt like my whole life had changed. Sure, I was having the best sex I’d ever had, but strangely, that was far from being the sum total of the changes I was experiencing. I had something to do every day – something I really wanted to do, besides going to the park and playing baseball. Peggy was the new center of my life, but in addition there was Tad, and his lovely grandma, Sarah. All three of them had been so welcoming, so easy to know and to love, that my old loneliness was almost completely forgotten.

Getting back to Lawrenceville was such a happy homecoming. I got a big welcome from my newfound “family,” and Peggy and I buckled down to a regular, easy, extremely satisfying personal relationship.

Tad was out of school for the summer and Sarah had him engaged in lots of activities, including some family field trips aimed at educating as well as amusing the boy. As I spent more and more time (including overnights) at the Gabriel house, I was available to play ball with Tad and his friends on many late mornings and early afternoons. Tad was something of a local hero with his friends because he had a genuine professional ballplayer accompanying him to the local field. Since only a very few of his chums shared Tad’s enormous interest in baseball, the two of us frequently found ourselves abandoned by most or all of the other kids, whereupon we’d simply play catch or practice fielding ground balls or shagging flies.

If I wasn’t up for too much daytime athletics, I’d cut it short and take Tad out for a Dairy Queen lunch or an ice cream treat. Between Sarah’s carefully planned activities and my casual hours with the boy, Tad was having a memorable summer.

Peggy, meanwhile, continued her night work at the club and attended college classes most weekday afternoons.

One afternoon in mid-July Sarah and I were in her kitchen having coffee and cake after Tad and I had come in from an impromptu workout. Tad was upstairs in the shower and I was waiting for my turn.

“Peggy tells me your apartment is a real dump,” she said.

“Well, it’s not the best in town, but, hey, I’m hardly ever even there. I’m freeloading here most of the time.”

“You don’t have a lot of stuff, right? I mean, furniture, that sort of thing?”

I laughed. “Nope. I’m just an itinerate ballplayer. One suitcase, one small trunk, my laptop, and a couple of pots and pans of my own. Everything I have along for the baseball season fits into my car – and it’s a small car.”

“Why don’t you just make it official and move in here? You and Peggy are getting along great. Tab is crazy about you. You and I are becoming real friends. What the hell? Why pay rent? I mean, if you and Peggy needed a place to be alone, I could understand your keeping the apartment. But when you two are ... together, it’s always right here. And Tad and I are gone often enough that you two could be together often, even during the day – not just at 3 a.m. when Peggy gets home.”

“You ought to talk to Peggy about this. I’m not certain she’d approve.”

“Oh, I’ve done that already. She agrees with me ... except...”

“Except what, Sarah?”

“Well, she worries that if you two had a falling out, it could become awfully awkward.”

“I guess that’s true, but I sure don’t expect that to happen. And if it did, well, I could still get everything into the Honda and make myself scarce again pretty quick.”

“That’s sort of what I said to Peggy when she brought it up,” Sarah said.

“One thing, though. I ought to be paying you more than what I’m paying for rent at the apartment. Actually, I should have been contributing something already, as much time as I spend here, and as much as I eat.”

“You have contributed – many times. You’re always bringing us stuff and buying us gifts. But if you want to put it on a formal footing, we can work it out. We’re not hurting for money, thank God.”

“I’ve been playing pro ball for almost three seasons now, Sarah, and I’ve always enjoyed it, but during the season it’s a gypsy lifestyle, and that can get old really fast. I’ve had more happy times since meeting you and Peggy and Tad than I’ve ever experienced playing ball before – anywhere. Actually, I’m wondering how I could even contemplate heading back home -- to New Mexico -- this fall. I’ve been thinking I’d rather stay right here.”

“You know you’d be welcome, Marty.”

A couple of days later, after discussing the idea with Peggy, I bit the bullet and gave notice that I was leaving my apartment at month’s end. I paid rent for the month but was actually long gone by the time the first of August rolled around.

The change simplified my life a little, but actually very little had changed. I did a little more work around the house and grounds, paid Sarah rent, and became a more systematic contributor of food and other necessities for the family.

And although I continued to sleep in the guest room, Peggy adopted the new procedure of joining me there every night after work – whether or not she was interested in late-night lovemaking. We had a simple system: If she wanted sex, she’d let me know, without a word being spoken.

If she wanted to sleep, she’d crawl into the bed, face away from me, push that incredible ass – warm and bare – into a spoon position against me and almost immediately pass out. (I learned quickly that no matter how warm or how bare her butt, I was not being invited to start anything. This was just a position for sleeping.)

Then again, she would on occasion become friendlier around 7 a.m., after a refreshing nap and before Tad’s summer waking hours began.

No pretense was made about our intimacy. Peggy didn’t hide from Tad the fact that she was sleeping with me. We were a bit circumspect about the nudity around the child, but he definitely knew that Mama was sleeping with Marty.

And so forth.

The road trips continued, of course, and my season with the Gwinnett Braves continued to go extremely well. I’d managed to maintain a higher average ( .332) in Triple A ball than I’d managed the previous year in the Southern Association. My power numbers were considerable as well: third in the International League in homers, second in doubles, and currently second in runs batted in.

I was hoping the Big Club just down the highway would notice soon. Maybe I’d get called up in September when the minor league season ended, and the Atlanta Braves could increase their active roster for the September stretch drive.

 
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