If you're looking for a baseball story, well, you may be quite surprised. This does have hitting on and scoring bases, even home runs and such and is certainly about America's most popular pastime but that's not baseball. Sorry.
It all started when my best friend and I were talking kids, specifically male kids.
We each are divorced and are raising sons on our own, both, basically the same age, fifteen.
We're also near the same age, I'm thirty-nine, just eight months from the big four-oh, and Nina is thirty-eight. We do know from our son's that all their friends consider us to be MILFs and, I suppose, we are.
I'm five-six with shoulder-length wavy ash blond hair, one hundred seventeen pounds, 36-24-36 and they're C-cup, yes, quite nice even without a bra. Nipples are small and pink and I love to pinch them and make them hard. And, down below, I shave it every other day.
Nina is a platinum blond down to her mid-back, five-four, one thirteen the last i knew at the club a month or so ago, 34-B-24-36, and her Bs have small, dark red nipples which are usually erect whenever I've seen them. She, too, shaves her pussy and has a little heart-shaped tattoo right on the inside of her thigh just below her labia. She showed it to me about six months ago, she had it done when she graduated from high school.
No, she showed it to me once, we both seem to be totally hetero.
So, we both look pretty damned good for pushing forty and while we don't dress like we stand on street corners, we don't dress like school librarians, either.
Not only are we friends, we met at work about ten years ago, our sons are also now good friends and we often are together on weekends as they like to hang around together. Being teen boys, they no longer 'play' together. If you have a teen boy, you understand.
Right after he turned fifteen, my son, Brock, began kissing me when I came home after work, complete with a hug and comments like, "I missed my beautiful mom," or "How's my hot mom, good day at work?"
His hugs were also a bit different with his hands ranging down onto my butt and pulling me tighter, even enough that I've felt his erection pressing into me.
Then there were the flashes, well, a flash is supposed to be quick, fast, these were much slower, seemingly deliberate exposures of my son's naked body, always with a hard-on, too. Perhaps coming or going to the bathroom; one way or another, he would find some way for me to see him naked and erect at least once or twice a week.
So, one Saturday afternoon when Nina and her son, Tanner, were visiting and the boys were off playing, er, hanging out, I decided to ask her what she thought.
"I want to ask you about what you think of Brock's behavior lately."
"Oh, not drugs, I hope; that just scares the crap out of me, you know, how to handle it."
"Oh, no, thank god, nothing remotely like that, no this is more that I think he's hitting on me. Hugging me and groping my butt, complimenting me on my body, letting me see him naked, and it always seems it's when he's got a hard-on."
She had this funny look on her face, then said, "You, too, huh?"
"What do you mean? Is he hitting on you, too?"
She laughed and said, "No, not your Brock, I mean that Tanner is doing the same thing with me. Even kissing me on the lips and sometimes trying to get his tongue in. Accidentally touching my boobs, like really on purpose, of course."
"Well, they're fifteen, you remember when we were that age and how boys were?" I asked her.
"Well, I kind of was, too, actually."
I snickered and agreed.
"What do we do about our horny boys? I know Brock masturbates and he does it a lot, the waste basket is full of tissues and I don't need a DNA kit to know what's on them."
"We need to get them laid, Marcia, who could we get?" Nina asked me.
"I remember reading a book years ago and it's funny we're talking about this because the boys in this particular family were all introduced to sex by a certain aunt, it seemed to be her role in the family make-up."
"Gee, all those, young, horny boys, nice job, I'd say. Trouble is, my sister has two girls and I'm not lesbian."
"But you are hetero," I told her.
"Not lately, I'm not, girl, not anything, how about you?"
"Yeah, me, either. We're nothing, it seems. Maybe we should be the aunts to each other's sons, that would solve all four problems," I flippantly suggested.
"God, wouldn't they just love it. I know Tanner thinks you're the hottest. Would he go for that."
"Brock thinks your pretty hot, too, you know. He's said that he never understood why your husband left such a hot babe. That's pretty much his exact words," I told her.
"That's so sweet, it almost makes me want to be his aunt and introduce him to sex. Oooh, I'm getting wet thinking about it."
Just then, our two boys came running into the kitchen. Brock asked, "We're back, when's supper?"
"Oh, we haven't even started it yet, we've been talking about far more interesting things," Nina told him.
"Oh, what?" Nina's son asked.
We looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"Oh, um, mom stuff," I told them, still snickering.
"Oh, boring, who cares?" my son said as they ran off to his room.
"Wouldn't they love to know what we were just talking about when they came in?" Nina said.
"I've got an idea how they might vote, right?" I told my friend.
"How would you vote, Marcia?" she asked.
The question stopped me cold. How would I vote? Would I want to invite Nina's son, Tanner, into my bed? He was certainly cute, even beginning to be rather handsome. And, well, even kind of sexy.
"Gee, that's not fair."
"Why not? I think I'd vote to introduce Brock into the world of physical intimacy. He's a sexy young man. At least I think so."
"You'd really do that?"
"Yes, and I'll bet you'd do it with Tanner, too."
I didn't answer right away, I was too busy processing the mental images of my best friend's son's naked body, at least what I thought it might look like.
"Well?" she asked, pulling me back from my daydream.
"You're his mom, what would you think if I had your son in my bed?" I asked my best friend.
"Well, one thing I'd think is how lucky he is to have someone like you. And, I guess, I'd think, since you are my friend, that you're pretty lucky to have a young lover as nice as my son. Gee, I don't really feel upset about it or anything. What about if I had Brock?"
"Hmm, pretty much the same, I think. What does that say about us as mothers?" I asked Nina.
"I think it says that we both know that sooner or later, each of our sons is going to have sex and that if it was with the other's mom, well, he'd be a pretty lucky guy."
"So, do you want to have sex with Tanner? Really do it and me with Brock? Think that if we can give their horniness an outlet maybe they'd be satisfied with that and quit hitting on their moms?"
"I don't really know. Is there any limit to how horny boys their age can be?" I asked.
"What about women our age, sweetie? I am so horny right now, at my age, that, well, look what we're talking about? Are we horny or not?"
"Would it really be that awful?" I wanted to know from my friend.
"All I know is that I am so wet, I know I've gone through my shorts, do you have a pad I can use?"
With that, we both took a bathroom break and each installed a panty liner in our wet panties to try to control the flow, so to speak.
"Look at us, Nina," I said, "this is how turned-on we both are over this."
"We should do it. I'll bet they'd love it. What fifteen-year old guy wouldn't like a couple of MILFs like us?" she blurted.
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I think I am. You know, the more I think about getting Brock into my bed, well, I know you're his mom and all, but, well, girl, I'd do it in a second. And I'll bet you'd do Tanner, wouldn't you?"
She had me there, I thought.
"Well, yes, he's a hot young guy, just in the last year or so, yes, he's pretty tempting. If we did this just how might we go about it?" I asked her knowing that we were already headed toward becoming the other's son's lover, it was now mostly how we were to do it.
"Well, I suppose no matter how we do it, they'll figure it out. They'll know that we're each doing the other. Maybe we should just get them together and you take my boy to your house and I'll take your's, just say we each want to talk to them privately, them get them alone and tell them. I can't imagine either one saying no."
I laughed and agreed that that was unlikely.
"So, when would we do this?" I asked.
"Tomorrow's Sunday, we'd have all day, god, I'm getting so wet. Are we really going to do this, Marcia?"
"Well, we have overnight to think about it, we can talk again in the morning. I'll call you," I said and we ordered up pizza and the four of us feasted on pepperoni until we were totally full. After that Brock and I went home and I had a fitful night sleep trying to digest both the pizza and the new life that may be beginning the very next day.
Not surprisingly, my son came to the kitchen in his briefs, I think a pair from a year or so ago that now fit rather tightly with a very obvious hard-on underneath. We made it though breakfast without incident and he went off to shower and I made sure to stay away to lessen any further flashes.
.... There is more of this story ...