NOTE: This work contains material not suitable for anyone under the age of eighteen (18) or those of a delicate nature. This is a story and contains descriptive scenes of a graphic sexual nature. This book is purely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, whether living, deceased, actual events, or locales, is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

in “Millie’s Vast Expanse”

Tomboy

tomboy noun 1. an energetic, sometimes boisterous girl whose behavior and pursuits, especially in games and sports, are considered more typical of boys than of girls. 2. A tomboy is a girl who exhibits characteristics or behaviors considered typical of a boy, including wearing masculine clothing and engaging in games and activities that are physical in nature and are considered unfeminine or the domain of boys. 3. tomboy, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, “The term tomboy has been connected with connotations of rudeness and impropriety throughout its use.” 4. Tomboy = all of the above + Terri Bell.

Terri Hits a Homer

Her name is Harmony Hunter, a late-thirties, divorced woman. No longer the happy couple, they drifted. Aaron Hunter found others to gratify his desires, Harmony sat home alone. The result, they grew apart. Being a generous and wealthy man, Aaron gave her an allowance. Not that she needs the assistance, but the gesture, soothed his guilt-ridden conscience. They say the divorce was amicable if such a thing is possible. Abandoned and lonely, Harmony satisfied her own needs in a rich, detailed fantasy life.

Her interest turned not to men but to women. So, seeking fodder for her fantasies, she discovered the local junior college, and one day Harmony stumbled upon the school’s fast-pitch softball team, The Lady Bees. The team became her obsession. Harmony went down to the stadium to watch the team play every home game. When they were out of town, she viewed them on TV. Her obsession centered on the girl wearing number seven. The first time Harmony spotted her playing, she leaned over and asked a man about her.

“Who’s number seven?”

“She’s an Oklahoma girl. Her name’s Terri, Terri Bell. She requested number seven—it was Mantle’s number,” he said as though she should know who Mantle was.

She thanked him and returned to observing the game—well, the girl. Five weeks later, near the end of summer, Harmony Hunter sat in the stands watching the last game of the season. If she didn’t act now, the woman knew she’d have a long wait until the games returned in April.

The Lady Bees played a junior college from another county. The two teams battled eight and a half innings for a 3-3 tie. Harmony hoped the game would go into extra innings. She loved fast-pitch softball. To be more specific, she loved ogling the muscled-up girls who played fast-pitch softball.

“Now coming to bat, number 7, Terri Bell,” the announcer said.

Terri took her place in the batter’s box, batting left-handed. She took two practice swings, keeping her concentration on the pitcher. The other team chanted, “She can’t hit,” while her teammates yelled, “Knock the cover off the ball, Ter.”

The pitcher took her wind up and let go a blistering, chest-high, hardball. Terri swung, twisted her entire body into the effort she connected. The ball climbed higher and higher. Finally, without observing the ball sail over the fence, Terri dropped her bat and took off with a leisurely jog for first base.

“Oh goodness, folks, ‘at’s your game. Another four-bagger from Terri Bell, her 37th home run of the year, the ninth one left-handed,” the announcer said.

He rattled off other stats as Terri rounded the bases in a dead run. When she came to home plate, she jumped on home plate.

The game was over, the crowd started to disperse. This was Harmony’s last chance to talk to her until next season. Moving against the flow, Harmony rushed down the bleachers toward the playing field. Her high heels clicked and clanked on the aluminum stairs, and Harmony shouting.

“Please, give me a minute. Wait, please, Miss Bell. Hold on for a second.”

Hearing the commotion, several of the girls glowered at the older lady rushing toward them. Harmony waved her arm in the air, and her enormous breasts bounced under her clothing as she bounded down the stairs.

“Hey, Ter, some mad woman’s screaming your name,” one of the players called back to the dugout.

Terri climbed the dugout steps back to the field and twisted around to glance into the stands. Harmony collapsed against the chain-link fence, clutching her fingers in the holes, and realized, in a moment of clarity, she must appear insane.

“Wow, you must think me mad,” she said, struggling to catch her breath.

The other girls shrugged and ambled away, headed for the showers. Harmony was left alone with Terri. “I wanted to tell you how marvelous you played today. Your home run was impressive.”

“Okay,” Terri said. “Um, yeah, well, thanks.” She turned and started to walk away.

“You’re attending summer classes?” Harmony said in a rush, desperate to keep her from leaving until her mind formulated something to say.

“No, ma’am. I’m only bumming around,” she said, again turning to leave.

“Do you have a job?” Harmony blurted out, unsure of anything else to say.

“No, I reckon I should find me one. Do you know anyone who’s hiring?”

“Well, yes, as a matter of fact,” Harmony said. “I am.”

“You are? What’s the job?”

“I, uh, need someone to mow and take care of the gardens at my house. You could start tomorrow. I’ll pay 15 dollars an hour—if you think I’m fair with that pay.”

“Are you serious? Sure, 15’s fair. What time do you want me to come?” Terri said.

“Come around 1:00pm” Harmony dug into her purse for a scrap of paper and a pen, scribbled furiously, and handed the paper to Terri.

“The address is on this. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, all right,” Terri said, tucking the scrap into the back pocket of her uniform pants. “Tomorrow.”

“Yes, tomorrow.” Harmony scrutinized her hardbody as Terri jogged back to the locker room and worried how she would handle her other gardeners coming tomorrow.

When she lay in bed in the night, Terri thought of the woman from the ballgame. She wondered how old she was. She thought of the woman’s piercing, green eyes, and her heavy breasts. She remembered her sensuous mouth and the way her tongue darted out, moistening her lips between sentences. She visualized her high cheekbones, the delicate curve of her jaw, how pleasingly plump the woman’s curves were.

“I can own the rich bitch,” she said.

Throwing off her sheets, Terri gazed over at the other empty bed in her room. Her roommate had gone home for the summer, so she was alone. Slipping her hand to her breast, pressing, squeezing, and rub the tight, small mound. The other hand slid down to her panties, and she ran her fingers underneath the elastic band.

Pushing further down, she worked her clit with her thumb while she played with her labia. Terri stroked her fingers over the outer lips, thrusting inside further, teasing her inner ones. Digging inside herself with two fingers, Terri worked herself as she bucked and rocked on the bed. Soon, Terri’s hips bucked as the first hint of a climax teased her body.

“Fuck, oh, God, this is, so, pleasant.”

All the tension of the day melted away. With a slow, deliberate pace, Terri brought herself to the edge, passing over the top. Bucking, her body convulsed, and the bed shook. Once the eruption ended, her body relaxed, and she finally drifted off sleep, a beautiful sheen of moisture covering her hard hot body.

The motorcycle rumbled between her legs. The vibrations tickled her clit as Terri rode around in the country, killing time. The motor thundered as she sped up on the highway. The reverberations agitated her clit, the moisture built inside, and Terri grew more provoked with each mile. Finally, pulling onto a dirt road, she found a tailwater pond and pulled up on the bank overlooking the still waters.

Clutching the seat with her legs, Terri gunned the engine. Over and over, she twisted the throttle ramping up the RPMs near the redline. Once Terri let the motor idle down, the thing began again, repeatedly goosing the engine.

The desired effect rushed through her body, and Terri leaned forward. As the motor’s vibrations ran through her body, Terri’s breathing became ragged, her body quaked, she continued to alternate the engine from idle to rumbling near the redline, until at last, she crumpled, letting go the throttle, and she dropped the kickstand, resting.

“Nothing like a decent clitty shake,” she said, running her finger over her buzz-cut hair.

Glancing at her wristwatch, she noted the time was close to 1:00 pm. Returning her helmet to her head, putting the strap in place, Terri raced back into town, pulling up to the house with thirty seconds to spare.

Bounding up the sidewalk, Terri leaped several steps at a time to the sizable, covered porch. The young woman pushed the doorbell, and she tried to catch her breath before the door opened and gazed out over the perfectly manicured lawn, the well-maintained flowerbeds, and trimmed bushes.

“Fucking, fresh, cut grass, damn bitch.”

Harmony opened the door and her face split in a grin. “Right on time.”

“You jacking me around?” Terri said harshly. “Is that what this is?”

“No,” Harmony said, realized her deception didn’t last until she had her through the door.

“You don’t need a gardener. You already have one,” Terri said. “A damn fine one from the condition of the lawn.”

“Please, Miss Bell, come in, and we can discuss this,” Harmony said, adding, “calmly, quietly.”

Terri pressed her hand hard on Harmony’s chest right above her breasts, and Harmony stumbled back several steps. Terri advanced on her and slammed the door behind her. She pushed the woman again, and Harmony shuffled back into the living room.

What’s the idea here? Make fun of the tomboy?”

“I’m not making fun of you,” Harmony insisted as she tried to step away from the angry girl. Instead, Terri closed the space and smacked her open hand against Harmony’s chest, pushing her deeper into the spacious room.

“What is it, woman? You gots the hots to taste some pussy?” She shoved her hard again.

“No, certainly not,” Harmony insisted. “I thought you might need some help. A job.”

“Fucking, fat lie. Go on, admit it, come on, you want pussy. Was your pussy hunger, why your old man left you?”

“No,” Harmony said, surprised at how hurt she was by the words. “How do you know I’m divorced?”

“You appear to be a housewife. And this house is too huge for only you,” Terri said. “But you must have some money for a house in this neighborhood, so I get excited, expecting to earn some bread, but you’re yanking string to hear me talk.” Terri again shoved Harmony backward.

“No, that isn’t it, I swear.”

“If you aren’t fucking me around, damn, well, admit the real reason. Why don’t you admit you want me?” Terri pushed her shoulders harder this time.

“I’m not like gay ... not like you,” Harmony insisted.

The slight condescension in her denial didn’t sit well with Terri, and she used both hands to roughly shove Harmony.

The older woman stumbled back until her back was against the wall. Terri moved in closer until no room separated them, and she pinned Harmony in the corner, pushing her tight between the adjoining walls.

“Why did ya come to all the home games this season?” Terri asked. “I noticed you up in the stands, every game.”

“To watch the games,” Harmony answered.

“Why? You’re not a fan of baseball or softball.”

“Oh, but I am, too. I came to watch the games,” Harmony said, maintaining her defiant insistence.

“What are the ways a runner can reach first base?”

“What?”

Terri pressed her hands hard against Harmony’s chest.

“What are the ways a runner can reach first base?” she repeated.

“She hits the ball and runs there, or four balls, and she walks on,” Harmony said, proud of her response.

“And?” Terri said.

“And what?”

“You’re so full of shit. There are six more ways a batter can get to first. So, admit you were at my games for me.” Terri’s mouth hovered next to Harmony’s lips. Her tongue darted out and licked the older woman’s mouth.

“No, I wasn’t,” she said.

Terri’s mouth covered the smaller woman’s lips. For a moment, only a brief one, Harmony resisted the kiss. As her passion intensified, Harmony yielding, she melted as Terri ran her hands over Harmony’s plumpish body and squeezed, wrapping her arms around her, pulling their bodies together. Any thought of fighting evaporated.

Harmony’s hands went to Terri’s face, caressing her as they kissed. Their tongues snaked around inside each other’s mouths with greedy abandon. Once the sexual tension blossomed, Terri broke the kiss, took hold of Harmony’s silk blouse by the collar, and ripped the side apart with a firm tug. Buttons popped off, jingling as they struck the floor at the women’s feet. She slid the blouse off Harmony’s shoulders, exposing her overflowing breasts to the cool air of the room.

Harmony’s fat long nipples were stiff. Terri put her thumb on one of the nipples and pressed into Harmony’s boob, allowing the breast to spring free, and Terri licked and sucked the nipple. The younger woman massaged the other woman’s fat breasts with one hand while she tugged at the zipper on Harmony’s skirt with the other.

Terri stepped back and stood with her hands on her hips and licked her lips. She cocked her head to the side, like a bird does. Terri ogled the older woman’s plump curves.

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