Part 3: Wednesday

Chapter Eleven - Lily

I was still out of sorts the next morning.

I tried to calm down, but it wasn't working all that well.

Especially when I got to school, and there he was. At the entrance, ready to do the get naked thing. He flashed me a big smile. I forced one back, and we stripped.

Then I headed for my first class. In a hurry.

The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized I was being silly.

Hey, if he wasn't attracted to me, I can't blame him, can I? Plus, we needed to get along. He was my catcher. And, I suppose, a person can't have too many friends, right?

I had to relax about this. I just had to relax. We had to get along, I couldn't hold a grudge just because he wasn't what I thought he might be. It would take an intense amount of fortitude for a fellow ballplayer to be interested in me. I know that. So, I just needed to relax.

I actually surprised myself about that. I accepted relief in third period. A kid named Paul, knew him slightly, fingered me to a nice, glorious, very relaxing cum. OK, so I admit it-I needed that. And, judging by the looks he was giving me, which looked very interested-at least I seem to have an option or two. I've never really been a one-night-stand type of person, but I'm not opposed to it or anything.

Anyhow, I was relaxed, and more at ease about things-so when Mike waved me over to him in the lunchroom, I went.

There was another guy with him. "Hey, Pedro. Like you to meet my best friend. Ed Bauer. He's also your future teammate."

"Nice to meet you," I shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you, too," he said. "Welcome to the team."

"Well, I haven't officially made it yet."

"Formalities, formalities. Trust me. I was there yesterday. You're on the team." He took a bite of his food. "Mike, here, was telling me about you yesterday morning. I was going 'no way!' He was going 'way!' I must admit, he was right, I was wrong."

"As usual, pal o' mine, as usual," Mike butt in.

"Yeah, you're always right. You were right about her from the first, yeah. Three words: Frankie Gutierrez mitt."

Mike cracked up laughing. "OK. You got me."

"You told him about that?" I laughed.

"I would've loved to have seen that," Ed said. "First he gets his hand blown away, then he had to bow and scrape. He does a very good bow and scrape. Though usually he has to do it to his mother."

"Oh, no, Marina far more often," Mike said. "Mom's a pussycat. Marina's the one that always catches me doing something."

"Well, he must have had practice," I said, "because he does bow and scrape very well. He was very contrite." Fuck it. Yeah, I was tempting fate. "He was even cute as hell doing it." He did blush. But he also grinned. That was a definite grin.

I didn't know what was up or down. Jesus.

Anyhow, I changed the subject. "So, Ed, what do you do?"

"Well, when you're pitching from the stretch, right, and your facing out to your right-there I'll be. The ol' hot corner."

"Yeah, and he's the best defensive third baseman in the state," Mike put in. "He can really throw the leather. If only he could hit."

"Hey, I can hit," Ed proclaimed. "Well, some of the time."

"Ed, y'see, is an all-or-nothing kind of guy. The ball either goes a long, long way-or it's strike three, grab some bench."

"It's going to be better," Ed proclaimed. "I've worked on it in the cage all winter, trying to shorten my swing but not lose any power. Hey, I led the team in homers last year, and I can play third like the dickens-but I almost lost my starting job because I only hit.238. Not this year."

"Well, it is nice to have some teammates who can score some runs for me. But, hell, if you're that good, I'll take the defense," I told him. "I tend to pitch inside to righthanded batters. And I tend to make them get way ahead of my changeup. You know what that means."

He did. "Ground ball to the third baseman," he grinned. "Line shot to the third baseman. Popup to the third baseman."

"You got it," I grinned back.

"Except, this year, if you're gonna be on the hill, I think I'm switching to catcher. Third basemen only get to see you from the back. Mike gets to watch you from the front. Far better deal."

I had to laugh. "Don't mind him, he's a lech," Mike said.

"Hey, last time a good friend was in The Program, she let me fuck her in the shower in the gym locker room," Ed said. "Now, I've got my best friend in The Program, and he's escorting around this gorgeous babe with great tits who also happens to be the savior of our pitching staff. I must say, I like this program thing."

I laughed. Ed was kidding. I could tell. I didn't mind. Ed said that whole spiel without once looking at my tits. He was just joking. Mike, on the other hand, was looking at my tits. And wasn't making a single hint of an effort to hide it.

What was this?

"Hey, you guys are making me feel like a piece of meat."

" Us?" Ed asked. "Hey, Lily, did you notice that when you took the hill yesterday, there was a flurry of people getting out of the third base bleachers and moving to the first base bleachers? That's because we got a better beaver shot from the first base side when you went into your leg kick." I couldn't help it. I howled.

"That's the worst part of pitching in the nude. Well, except for the boobs, which Talented Hands Mike took care of for me." Mike almost choked on his soda with that one. "No, now the worst thing is that every time I go into my leg kick, my pussy rubs together. That can be a little distracting."

Ed howled. I liked Ed. As a friend, but I liked him. I appreciated people who were free and easy about stuff. "Hey, we'll just schedule it," Ed said. "We have the seventh-inning stretch, right? Well, we'll just pencil in the fourth-inning screaming cum. On the mound."

"The fourth inning," I said through my giggles. "And the fifth, and the sixth, and the seventh..."

"Gives a whole meaning to the term 'call for relief', doesn't it?" Ed laughed. We were rolling right then. Except for Mike. He was laughing, sure, but he was blushing. And there was a strange look in his eye.

So, I went for the jugular. "Hey, if I'm going to be standing on the mound cumming every inning, I'm gonna need some help." I looked at Ed when I said it, but said, "So, do you think that's in a catcher's job description?"

Ed howled louder. "Well, a catcher must help his pitcher out any way he can, right?"

Mike was laughing, he was. But he was also blushing purple. And looking at my tits again. When he looked up, there was something in his eyes. I wasn't sure what it was. But there was something.

Goddammit. I was going to be nice. I was going to be friends. I was not going to get my hopes up. Wasn't I?

Well, so much for well-laid plans. Of course, I didn't really want any well-laid plans-what I wanted was a well-laid pitcher. And, despite the banter, I didn't think I was going to get that-not, at least, from Mike. It was just banter. Ed was bantering, too-but he was just being funny, I didn't see any real interest there. I knew that. That was fine. I liked Ed, instantly, but not that way. So why would I manufacture Mike's banter as something more in my mind? It wasn't going to happen.

Then again, there was that strange look in Mike's eye.

Fuck it. I could not do this to myself. I had more tryouts this afternoon.

Pitching, Lily, pitching. Remember?

Chapter Twelve - Mike

Oh, my fucking head.

After that performance, I needed relief. Bad. I requested it-and got it, a superb blowjob from my friend Maggie Benson-two periods after lunch. And it wasn't enough. And it should've been, because Maggie's the blowjob queen of the junior class.

No, wasn't Maggie's fault. It wasn't enough because I couldn't get that picture out of my head. Lily standing on the mound-and me out there, helping her cum.

Jesus Christ. Was this real?

I knew I was going to try to find out what was what, after tryouts. I knew that. But she had me on a knife's edge all afternoon. I didn't know if it was banter, or if it was serious-or even, horrors, if she had given up on me, the ninny, and was going after Ed. I didn't think so. I knew Ed wasn't serious-Lily isn't his type-he's just like that all the time. But she had just met Ed, and I didn't know if she knew that.

I managed to get through the day. Don't ask me how.

Went over to the field. She beat me there. She was also all taped up already. Well, that didn't surprise me. She probably still figured I was in ninny mode.

Anyhow, I put on my stuff and headed on out there. Skipper asked me to catch a while, so I did. A kid named Paul Sinclair was on the mound. Up from junior varsity. He was a junior in school, also, but I didn't know him well.

He pitched to a couple of guys-and then in stepped Lily. Paul chuckled, wound up, and threw his first pitch. It was a brushback. Missed her boobs by three inches. "Hey, watch that shit!" I yelled. Lily bounced backwards, but didn't go down.

She turned to me. She was furious. Not at me, but at him. She hissed to me, "That little shit better knock me right out with the next one if he knows what's good for him."

Shit. Like I said to my mother, what's not to be attracted to?

Sinclair didn't knock her out. He gave her a pitch to hit. And hit it she did. And again. And again. And still again.

It was great. She was spraying base hits all over the place.

"You can hit, too?" I asked her in between pitches.

"Damn right I can hit. I have no power, but I can put the ball in play and get on base."

She just kept hitting, and hitting, a little grin on her face with every whack. "OK, one more, Woodard," the coach yelled up. And Sinclair wound up-and hit her right in the helmet. Smack in the side of her noggin.

"GODDAMMIT!" I yelled. The coach ran out screaming at him. And I saw Lily pick herself up off the ground, wipe the dirt off her naked body, and calmly walk back into the dugout.

They changed pitchers, and batters, and I asked Brady to catch a few.

I went into the dugout, found Lily. "You all right?"

"Yeah." Her tone was one of unrestrained fury.

"The bastard didn't like you hitting him all over the park."

"Too fucking bad. He has to hit, right? I want to pitch to him," she said.

"Coach won't like a beanball war."

"There won't be any beanball wars," she said firmly. "Trust me."

I went and fetched the coach. He was skeptical, too. "There will not be a beanball war," Lily maintained. "I absolutely promise. I will not throw at him. But I want to pitch to him."

The coach agreed.

A couple batters later, Lily came out and took the hill. "OK, Sinclair, time to hit," the coach said. He strode up there, all cocky. I went out and took over for Brady.

"What, are you going to try to hit me with that little girl's arm?" Sinclair taunted.

"No," Lily said, and reared back and threw the heater. He never saw it. Strike one.

"I'm not going to hit you," Lily said. Slider, this time. I think his knees did buckle. Strike two.

"I don't get into beanball wars," Lily said, and wound up. Changeup. He swung an hour before the ball got to the plate. Strike three.

"The question is, are you going to hit me?" Lily said, and wound up again. Back to the heater. Strike four.

She stopped talking and just kept throwing. About ten more, all her different pitches. The poor bastard didn't even make contact. After making him look completely inept on a hellacious curveball, she stood on the mound and announced, "You know what my Daddy once told me about beanballs and brushback pitches? Don't get mad. Don't get even. Just get 'em out. Next?"

Sinclair slinked off, and Lily stood there on the mound grinning. Then I got a glimmer. "Next, huh?" I said. "Brady, come catch, would you?"

"What, you want to hit against me?" she asked, surprised.

"Damn right." I took off the ol' Tools of Ignorance, and grabbed a stick. "OK, Woodard, let's see what you got."

First pitch. Fastball. Never saw it. Strike one.

Second pitch. She threw me the slider, which didn't surprise me, and I got my bat on it-but not enough. Fouled it off. Strike two.

I expected the change next. She must have known that that's what I'd expect-because that's not what I got. I got the curveball instead. I waved at it feebly. Strike three.

"I told you I could strike you out on three straight pitches!" she yelled-but there was no triumph in it. She should've been gloating. She wasn't. I know why-because she thought it made me not want her. Little did she know that I was restraining myself from tackling her right there. Anyhow, I just waved at her to give me another one.

It was the cross-seamer. BLAM! Double to the gap in right.

"And I told you I'd hit a double in the gap off you." That time she did grin. Genuinely. And wound up again.

We went at it for a while. I won a few, she won a few. She won a few more, but I held my own. And, every time she got me, I grinned at her. Just to let her know there was no hard feelings.

Hard feelings? I felt like it was foreplay. She really was at her most beautiful and enticing when she was bearing down on me with a fastball.

Afterwards, I went to sit down, and she followed. "Thanks," I told her. "You are now not only the best pitcher I've ever caught; you're the best pitcher I've ever hit against."

"Thanks," she beamed. "And you are what my old manager used to call one MTO."

"MTO?" I asked.

"Motherfucking Tough Out." I laughed. "It was his highest praise for a batter. 'Look out for this guy, Woodard, he's one motherfucking tough out.' It took him six weeks before he could say that to me, his girl pitcher, without blushing."

"I can imagine," I laughed.

Tryouts ended, and they announced the team. Of course she made it. Was there ever any doubt?

So, I was her catcher. What else was there? It was time to find out.

Chapter Thirteen - Lily

I made it! I made it, I made it, I made it!

Yeah, for all my tough talk and bluster, I thought they'd find a way to deny me a place on the team. But I MADE IT!!!

I needed to let it out. I sat there on the dugout bench, as everyone else left, just drinking it all in. It was getting dark. I wanted to be alone.

But I didn't think I'd get that chance, because Mike wasn't going anywhere. Ah, well, you know-that was all right. I thought he'd understand.

When we were the only two left in the whole place, I ran out of the dugout and started running across the field yelling, "I MADE IT! I MADE IT!" And, I was right, Mike didn't mind. He was standing at second base watching me-and laughing-as I romped around the outfield.

When I finally stopped, he walked up to me and said, "You doubted you would?"

"You never know. They didn't want a girl on the team, you know that-so, you never know."

" I knew," he told me.

"You're so sweet. And, hey, there is no way I would've made it without you. Not only are you a great catcher, you let me work out with you on Monday, and you even came up with this contraption." I pointed at the bandage. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome."

"And I think I need to take this contraption off." I started to turn away from him, and grab at the ace bandage.

"Do you need some help?"

"No, thank you." That's what I said. What I thought was, hell no! Have you "help" me and work me all up again and then leave? No fucking way.

But then he came around and was in front of me again. And he said, "Please. Lily, let me help."

Oh, man, if only he knew what he was asking.

Oh, shit. What if he did know? What if he knew? What if he figured it out? Did I have the guts to take a chance? I looked at his face, and in his eyes I saw-that something again.

So, I said, "OK."

He took a step towards me, and unraveled the ace bandage. Then he went for the bra scraps taped to my nipples. I didn't hold a thing in. I let it happen. I closed my eyes, and gave in to the need to breathe heavy. Then, they were off. They fluttered to the ground in the outfield where we were standing. I held my breath for a half-second. And then I felt his hands, right back on me.

Thank goodness.

His hands were all over me. And even when not being clinical, they were gentle and tender. I moaned a little. Then I felt one of his hands leaving my boob-and wandering down, right towards my pussy. Oh God. Please please please, I was so wet. And then I felt him gently run his fingers up and down my pussy.

I couldn't stand anymore. I sunk down, kneeling on the outfield grass, pulling him down with me. We kneeled in front of each other there, as he had one hand on my boob and the other one on my pussy. I spread my legs a bit and his finger slipped right in. Heaven. It was heaven.

I opened my eyes, and looked into his. Then I kissed him. I devoured his mouth, every single inch of it, and danced my tongue with his. With my tongue in his mouth and his hand in my pussy, I came. Nice and hard.

I broke the kiss-I was afraid I'd bite his tongue off-and, afterwards, I opened my eyes. He was grinning at me. I gave him one hell of a smile back.

"This stops whenever you say it does," he whispered. I just giggled. "Lily, what do you want?" he asked.

"I want this," I said, grabbing his dick and pulling it towards me, "and I want it in here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Absolutely. As sure as sure gets."

"Are you protected?"

"Yes," I told him.

"Then lie back." I did so, and then there he was, hovering over me. "God, you're so beautiful," he said.

Beautiful. I was filthy! Jesus, I realized I still had eyeblack on!

And he wanted me.

Miracle of miracles.

Then, there he was, at my entrance. He slid right in. I was really wet.

He built up a rhythm. It was fantastic. He slid in and out of me, and I just gazed up at him, enjoying what my body was doing. Then, I got a little flash. I giggled.

"Did I tickle something?" he asked, bemused.

"No," I said, with a half gasp. "Just dawned on me. All my years of baseball, I've never made love in the outfield before."

"Me neither," he laughed.

He was going nice and slow, making sure he got me all worked up. Well, I was worked up. So I told him. "Mikey, harder, OK?" He obliged. Oh GOD.

That's when I started howling. I'm not always loud. I have to be well-fucked to let loose. Well, I found myself getting really loud. Oh, man, this was the fuck of my life. At one point, I opened my eyes, and found his were open. And I found myself drowning in his. You know, those liquid pools of iridescent sapphire.

That's when I came. With an earth-shattering scream. He went right with me.

Afterwards, he rolled off me-but pulled me towards him, cuddling me, as we collapsed in a pool of sweat and cum.

This was better than making the team. I couldn't believe that thought went through my head, but it was.