Part 4: Thursday

Chapter 6teen - Mike

Thursday dawned. I was in a hell of a mood. There's a surprise.

Sat down, ate breakfast with Mom and Marina. Told them all about it. Hustled myself to school.

I got there early. Grabbed the school paper, which had just come out. Figured I could read it while I was waiting-figured I'd have to wait for Lily since I was so early. I went over to the parking lot. Surprise, surprise-she was waiting for me, sitting in her car. She got out the minute she saw me coming.

"I've been waiting for you," she gave me a come-hither grin.

"Oh, goody." I walked over to her, and we wrapped each other in a soul kiss.

"You know what's a pity? You're not in any of my classes," she told me. "I'd rather get relief from you."

"Yeah, me too," I agreed. "Hey, if you need it, take it. It's The Program. Plus, one of two things is going to happen today. You're either gonna get felt up more, or people are going to avoid you."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because you're about to have a bit of notoriety around here." I held up the school paper. Right there, on the front page, was a picture of her-pitching, in the nude-and the big headline: "Girl Makes Westport Baseball Team; First Time In History."

"Oh, geez. I should've expected this."

"Yeah, I should've too. It'll be alright." I took her in my arms. "Your catcher will protect you."

"Oh, will he?" she grinned. "How? By kissing me senseless so I don't care about the notoriety?"

"That sounds good." So I did. The rules against PDAs were still on the books at Westport, but, in wake of The Program, they really weren't enforced. Especially in the parking lot a half hour before school.

I broke the kiss, and she grinned at me. I grinned back, and looked down. She was wearing a sleeveless white blouse with flowers on it, and a knee-length flared knit skirt.

"You know what? You're gorgeous even with clothes on," I told her.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. And even without the dirt and the grime and the eyeblack."

She just giggled. "You're the best, you know that?"

"I'm glad you like what you see," I joked. "Hey, we only have that team meeting today. It'll only be about an hour. You want to go out on a real date? Dinner?"

"Love to. Burger Hut or real food?" she laughed. "We can always go to The Mariner nude."

"That's an idea, but we could always do that after the game tomorrow-it's kind of a tradition among some of us to hit The Mariner after a Friday game."

"Oh, great. Cool."

"For today, though," I said, "I was thinking more about Luciano's."

"Oh, yeah! I love that place. Only been there twice, but I love it." Luciano's was a good Italian restaurant in town. "Can't get nekkid there," she laughed, "but that's cool. I'd love to go there with you."

"It's a date, then," I said. Then I kissed her again. It went on for a good long time. Until we heard a sports car vroom into the lot. It pulled into the space next to where we were, and the driver yelled, "Hey! Get a room!" It was Ed.

"Don't spoil my fun, Ed," Lily teased him.

"Of all the people on this whole wide earth, only you would consider him fun," Ed teased back.

"Oh, yeah? Made your travel plans to Latvia yet?" I put in. Lily was, of course, confused-so I explained my earlier joke to her.

Eddie teased us for another minute or so, then went in. We were still cuddling.

"Almost time to go in," Lily told me.

"Yeah. Darn."

"I know." We started to walk to the entrance. "I have a surprise for you," she continued.

"A surprise?"

"You'll see." I swear she shook her hips in front of me when she walked away after she said that. She positively sauntered. Hadn't seen that before.

We got to the entrance, and all the kids were gathered around for the daily unveiling. We hadn't really put on a show, so I decided to do a little. I went up the stairs ahead of her, and yelled, "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Westport High's newest ace pitcher, coming soon to a clothing-optional ballpark near you, Lily 'Pedro' Woodard!!!!"

She giggled through my whole spiel, then bounded up the steps, bowed to all four points of the compass, and then flexed her pitching arm. I thought she might've been embarrassed by my little speech-I did it on the spur of the moment-but she was enjoying it. Little did I know that she had a little show of her own planned.

"Thank you, thank you. Mikey, can you start the disrobing today?" I shrugged, and started peeling off my shirt. "Now, you all might like to know that that beautiful guy over there getting naked-well, he and I made love for the first time yesterday evening." Shit! She said that? "Right after I made the team. Those of you who use the baseball diamond for a cut-through, look out for the cumstains in right field. We wouldn't want any accidents." SHIT! "And now we're going out. All done, honey?" I, now naked, nodded, bemused. This girl sure was unpredictable. And, boy, did she have-there's no other word for it-balls. "OK, now, since we were already naked, because of The Program, there was no grand unveiling. I thought about us undressing each other here today, but we'll have plenty of time to do that. Then, I had a better idea." Her shirt came off.

"Y'see, I was thinking about him all night last night. And this morning." She reached back and unclasped her bra. "All the way here, that's all I could think about, what we did yesterday-and how soon we could do it again." The bra fell to the floor. I was mesmerized by this point. "And I was making myself hornier and hornier, just thinking about it." The skirt was unzipped. "And, so, while I was driving, I let my hand slip down... here." Her skirt fell, and she stepped out of it. She gathered up her skirt, bra, and blouse, and dropped them into the box we used for that. Then she turned back to the crowd. "I was so horny." She stuck her hand between her legs. "I spent the whole ride here thinking about him, making myself horny-and making myself oh... so... wet." Off came the panties. They were pink and frilly. She wasn't kidding, I could see the moisture on her pussy. "So, I spent the whole ride here making myself so hot and bothered-because of Mike-that I absolutely drenched these panties." She held them up. She was right, they were soaked. Then she took them, folded them up, unzipped my bookbag, and put them in! "A souvenir, sweetie. Not a direct one, but the best indirect one I could come up with." Then she kissed me on the cheek, and disappeared into the building.

Oh my fuck.

The crowd was going apeshit. I turned back towards the school, half in a daze-with one thought on my mind. Relief. I need relief. DAMN do I need relief. And why, oh why, wasn't she in any of my classes?

Eddie caught up to me. "That is some girl," he said admiringly.

"You got that right," I agreed.

I went to first period, and immediately requested relief. That was probably the most desperate cum of my life. If Lily had been here, I might've taken out one of the fluorescent lights with it. As it was, my friendly reliever got a healthy blast in the cheek. Luckily, she didn't mind.

Unfortunately, the relief was rather temporary. Because every time I opened my bookbag, all I could smell was her. I sit next to Maggie Benson in third period, and, when I opened my bookbag, she leaned over and said, "Why does it smell like pussy in here?" When I told her, she howled. "I don't know this girl, and already I like her."

Eddie was right. She's some girl. It just got better and better.

Chapter 7teen - Lily

I couldn't believe I had done that!

It was impulse. I was getting all hot and bothered thinking about it driving to school, and I was rubbing myself-and the kisses we shared in the parking lot didn't help any. So this brainstorm hit.

I hope he liked his present!

Word got around that Mikey pretty much had to ask for relief before first period. Of course he did, the poor dear. I must've really got him going. And the rest of the morning must have been torture-every time he opened that bookbag!

So, when I found him at lunch, I had a shit-eating grin on my face. He smiled back, came around the table, and sat next to me, instead of across from me. I was about to ask him what was up-and two fingers plunged in to my pussy. Oh FUCK. I almost elevated off the chair, and had to swallow the squeak that buckled up. He sat there, very calmly, munching on the sandwich he held with his left hand-while his right hand was furiously thrusting in and out of me.

Ohgodohgodohgod-in the middle of the cafeteria, where I couldn't even moan. It was torture. It was delicious.

And right in the middle, Ed and Frankie came over and sat down across from us!

"Hey, kids, how's it going?" Frankie asked us.

"Great," Mike said nonchalantly. I managed to smile and nod. At least I think I smiled.

"Nice stunt before school, Pedro," Eddie laughed.

"Th-thanks," I managed to stammer. Oh fuck, I was hovering right on the edge of one massive cum.

"Hey, are you all right?" Frankie asked. I tried to say "Fine," but, when I opened my mouth, the only thing that came out was a half-squeak/half-gasp.

"Hey, what's going on?" Eddie asked.

"Payback," Mike grinned at them. That's when I went. I grabbed his hand and ever-so-slightly humped myself on it. I stifled the huge roar that wanted to come out. I grit my teeth. I probably looked like I was in extreme pain. Fuck, what a cum.

I sat there panting, not trying to look like I was panting. It's very difficult to catch your breath when you're trying not to let anyone know that you're out of breath. And, my torturer, my delicious, wonderful, torturer-took his juice-covered fingers and lifted them to his face. "Hey, I know that smell," he said-and then he licked them off.

I was a pile of goo. A complete pile of goo.

Then Mike said, "Hey honey, don't you think you might want to eat something? Lunch period's getting on, you know."

I just sighed, and shuddered. Ed and Frankie were very amused. I managed to pick at some food, but didn't really care. After a cum like that, who needed lunch?

And do not ask me how I stood up when the bell rang. I have no idea.

Anyhow, I made it through the rest of the day. Somehow. And then, at the exit, was my wonderful guy. We had to go to the team meeting-au naturel, of course-so we just grabbed our clothes and went. Once we got away from the crowd, I said, "You cruel beast. I was having aftershocks for three periods."

"Payback, sweetheart. I've been smelling you all day." We grabbed hands and walked to the meeting. We got there, and grabbed a seat on a bench with Frankie and Ed.

First, we elected captains. There was no requirement that captains be seniors, except that they usually were. Unfortunately, there were very few seniors on this team. When Coach assembled his team last year, he had a whole lot of seniors-who had since graduated-and not too many juniors. He said the junior class last year was the worst he'd seen in 15 years at Westport. However, he had a lot of good sophomores, who were now juniors, who were the core of the team. The couple of seniors we did have weren't considered leaders. So, it was with no surprise-but a great amount of delight, at least on my part-that Mike and Ed were elected the co-captains.

Then we got measured for uniforms. I wouldn't get to wear mine right away, of course, but I would eventually. The equipment manager asked me if I had a number preference. "45," I said immediately.

"We usually don't do numbers higher than 30," the coach said.

"Can you?" I asked. The coach looked at the equipment manager, who said. "I don't see why not."

"Any particular reason?" The coach asked me.

"For 45? Well, of course. It's Pedro Martinez's number."

"That's right, it is, isn't it," the coach chuckled. "They told me you were from Boston." I nodded. "OK, 45 it is." Thank goodness. I had always worn 45.

Then the coach started talking about our opening day game-tomorrow, Friday. "OK, it's Newburgh. For those who are new here, Newburgh High is the perennial conference champion. They won States two years ago, and were runners-up last year. And we haven't beaten them in six years-and most times it hasn't been close. I'm sure those of you who were here last year remember the 15-1 drubbing."

"So, we're going to do something different this time. Woodard, you're starting." I was? I AM? Number one starter? I didn't expect that. Frankie had been 7-2 last year, and there was an impressive sophomore on the staff. They only knew what I could do from a brief tryout. I knew it, but they didn't. And they were starting me first? I was thrilled.

For a minute. The coach went on. "Hey, we're going to lose anyway, so we might as well waste her in this game, and we might get lucky." The team members who didn't want any girl on the team all chuckled. "And, who knows? She'll still be in The Program tomorrow. Might increase attendance."

Damn it. I was being used as a sacrificial lamb. Mike was furious, I could see, but fuck it. If that's what the skipper thought he was doing, he was in for a rude awakening-I didn't care how good this team was.

Then he started talking about hitting. After talking about some of the guys in the order, he got to me. "Woodard, was that hitting display of yesterday a fluke?" he said with an ill-concealed laugh.

"No," I said, my fury building.

"Now, you didn't play every day with your old school."

"Yes, I did."

"Obviously, that school had a talent problem," he chortled.

"That's an interesting theory," I said, "about the Massachusetts State runners-up. Division Two, true, but state runners-up all the same, and we would've won the championship if I hadn't exceeded my innings and been able to pitch the final game."

"You mean to tell me that a state runners-up didn't have anyone else to DH?"

"I didn't DH! When I wasn't pitching, I played Center Fucking Field!"

"Hey, that could work," said Frankie, who was going to start in center when he wasn't pitching. The coach just glared at him.

"And they would've found somewhere to play me when I wasn't pitching-you don't sit down your fucking leadoff hitter!" I continued.

"You. Hit leadoff." The coach was flabbergasted.

That did it. "Leadoff... 320 average... 430 OBP. Plus 27 steals in 29 attempts in only 28 games, plus I scored 35 runs. Oh, and if you think you're sending me out as a sacrificial lamb tomorrow, get a load of these numbers. Nine wins, zero losses in ten starts. And the one I didn't win, I left a scoreless tie in the eleventh. Zero point three two earned run average. A strikeout to walk ratio of a hundred and two to twelve. That's in 85 innings. I threw two no-hitters. I didn't make all-conference, I made all state. As a sophomore!" I stood up. "You have your little chuckles. You think you're setting me up to take a fall tomorrow. You'd better be good and damned prepared to come here tomorrow and watch a fucking three-hit shutout. Now, if this silly meeting is over, you'll have to excuse me. I have to go study. Because I'm a straight A student, too!" And I stormed out of the room.

I probably shouldn't have done it. I know. But I was pissed. I slumped against the locker room door, totally drained. Then I heard the sound of laughter from inside the locker room. I was all set to storm back in there and rip somebody's throat out. Until I heard the coach bellow, "Kirkland, what's so fucking funny?"

"The greatest girl in the world, that's what's so funny," I heard Mike say. "That, and the look on your face. Sorry, Coach, but you looked like you had swallowed your tongue. And, Coach, I gotta say it. If I were a betting man, my money'd be on the three hit shutout."

Aw. That's all I could think. Aw. He stuck up for me-and he did it without getting all possessive and pissed off and boyfriend-like. He did it with wit and style.

Then he came out. Big shit-eating grin on his face. I got some glares from some of the team-but pats on the shoulder from Eddie, Frankie, and Ty. We walked out of the locker room, he pulled me off into a corner-and gave me a big hug. "You, my dear, have more balls than most guys." I could just smile.

We made arrangements to go out, he was going to pick me up, so I gave him directions. Then I threw on my clothes-chuckling at the lack of panties-and headed home.

"Lily, is that you?" It was Mom.

"Yeah. I'm starting tomorrow."

"That's great! Too bad your father and I can't go."

"There will be plenty of opportunities. Hey, I need your help. Can you come upstairs with me?"

"Sure."

"Mike's taking me to Luciano's for dinner."

"Aw, that's nice," Mom said. "Oh, that means your father and I will get to meet him, yes?"

"Yes, he's picking me up. Anyhow, I need your help. I need something to wear, and I want you to help me with my hair."

"Going all girly-girl tonight?" she chuckled.

"Yep. He's seen me halfway-in the parking lot this morning before school when I was wearing this. And he's seen me with dirt and eyeblack and stuff. But he's never seen me in full girl mode."

"Are you testing him?" she asked.

"Nah. Hey, if he can accept the eyeblack and stuff, I don't think he'll have any problem accepting Lily The Girl. However, I do want to shock the shit out of him," I grinned.

"Ah," she laughed. "OK, well, let me riff through your closet, I'll get a selection out for you. And while I'm doing that, you need a shower. Wash that hair before I style it."

"Good plan." I started stripping off my clothes, forgetting what I wasn't wearing.

Mom noticed. Ah, well, like I said-she's cool. "Lily, honey? Where, exactly, are your panties?" She was stifling a giggle.

"In Mike's bookbag," I grinned. "Presented them to him this morning. And I made sure I got myself nice and horny on the way to school."

She wasn't stifling the giggle anymore. "You minx! So he had your... wet panties..."

" Very wet panties."

"Oh my. OK, very wet panties in his bookbag all day?"

"Yup," I grinned.

"Oh, Lily, I hope he really likes you after that!"

"Oh, he got me back."

"Oh, really? How?"

Hmmm. Well, should I answer that? What the hell. "Under the table at lunch, with his hand, right in the middle of the lunchroom," I grinned.

"He didn't!"

"He did. Have you ever been in a situation where you were cumming up an absolute storm and had to force yourself not to make a single noise? Jesus. It was complete, blissful, fantastic, exquisite pain."

"I can imagine," she laughed. Then she looked at me. "Lily. You've actually found a guy to keep up with you, haven't you?"

"Yeah. And how. And in every way." I told her about my outburst to the Coach, and Mike's reaction to it.

"I've never told you about this. I worry about you. I know you've had lots of boyfriends, but they never seemed to last, and there never seemed to be much emotional content, even for a teenaged girl. It just seemed they were all about sex. And I must admit, I sort of worried when I found out you slept with Mike before you guys even had an actual date. But, jeez, honey, if you've actually found a guy who can keep up with you... wow. I worried they didn't exist."

"Yeah, me too," I admitted. "And Mike is a new thing. But, Jesus, Mom, so far he's just perfect. I have to tell you, I think I could fall for this guy in a big way."

"I think you already are," she smiled. I smiled back. She had a point.

Chapter 8een - Mike

I showed up at Lily's at the appointed hour, and knocked on the door. Her Dad answered. He shook my hand and welcomed me in. Said he was glad to finally meet me "after hearing so much." Hmm. I wonder what Lily had told them. Anyway, if he knew about our right-field escapades, he must not have minded, because he was very nice.

We sat in the living room, and chatted. About baseball, about the team. You know, guy stuff. Then I heard a creak on the stairs, and looked up, and saw Lily walking down.

Oh. My. God.

I couldn't fucking swallow. Or breathe. Or think.

She was wearing a spaghetti-strap blouse, black, low-cut, ruffly, with a cinched waist, that flared out at the end. A red skirt, short and flared. Black panty hose. Red heels (not too high, thankfully, since I was shorter to begin with!). And her face! She had makeup on, lightly but skillfully applied. And her hair was down. I'd only seen it in a ponytail, or up under her cap on the field. Tonight, it was down, and had been styled with a curler of some sort. It cascaded past her shoulders in chocolate waves.

She was... exquisite.

Don't forget, I had fallen in love with a ballplayer. I had made love to this girl when she was a sweaty, dirty, mussed-haired, grass-stained pitcher. And I had told her she was beautiful. And I had meant every word. I saw the beauty in a cocky, shitkicking, take-no-prisoners ball of fire who struck me out on three pitches and made love in the outfield like a banshee. And now I was confronted with this vision coming down the stairs at me.

And it was the same girl. The same unbelievable girl.

She walked over to me and shyly said, "Hi."

"Hi. And wow," was all I could come up with.

She giggled. "You like?"

"You're beautiful."

She blushed but giggled. "Better than that dirty pitcher you rolled around in the outfield with, huh?" Ah. So her parents did know, as they were right there. But they were still smiling at her.

"No. She's just as beautiful. Beauty is beauty, there's just different ways to let it out. Thank you for showing me this one." I never thought of myself as all that eloquent. I just speak from the gut and the heart. Well, I saw the moisture in her eyes right then. I guess I'd said the right thing.