The evening was young yet. I had just finished a nice leisurely dinner at a new restaurant and it was only a little after six o'clock. I knew there would be nothing good on TV that evening — nothing but summer reruns and dull MLB games. I was driving toward home slowly, trying to think of some interesting way to pass the time.

Suddenly it appeared off to my left as I topped a freeway overpass. There, in a big copse of trees, was nestled an amateur baseball complex. There were four of them all in all. Probably most of the diamonds were set up for Little League and it looked like one was bigger, for whatever the next age group of boys was.

On impulse I pulled into the park. I hadn't ever been inside it yet but there's always a first time for everything. I was sure the entertainment would be free and, remembering the days when my own son played Little League, I figured it would be a good way to pass two or three hours.

I surveyed the fields and decided against the older boys — they tended to be altogether too serious, like the pros. I picked one of the fields with younger boys and pulled into the first open parking space.

As I walked toward the field, I noticed the game had already started, though I would guess it was not very far along. All of the boys wore white uniform pants but one team wore red shirts and caps while the other team wore black. I walked over to the third base side, behind the black team. There was a smattering of parents on the red team's side but none on the one I approached.

The black team was batting, so I stopped several feet from any of the players and stood watching the red pitcher throw ball after ball. Some of the black players swung at a few without making contact.

I wasn't even aware of the woman until I heard her call, "Hey, Jason! What's the score?"

One of the black-clad boys turned and said, "They're seven. We just started to bat."

Okay, so bottom of the first, 7-0. I twisted a little to my right to see the woman who was standing beside me. "Your son?" I asked.

"Yeah. He plays second base and pitches. Which one is yours?"

"Oh, I don't have one. Mine is already way past his playing years. I was just passing and thought I'd watch some."

She wasn't a particularly attractive woman but neither was she ugly. She was a little overweight but it was well distributed. When she took a couple of steps forward to shout encouragement to the batter, I got a good look at her backside, and my libido took over from there. She was broad of beam, very well rounded and filled out her jeans as if they were a second skin. The sight made the palms of my hands itch.

When she turned back to resume her place beside me, I got a better look at her front. I was not disappointed by it either. Although she was wearing a long-sleeved shirt that looked more like a man's shirt than a woman's, she had twin bulges on her chest that generously pushed the shirt out on top. My interest was definitely piqued.

Resuming her stance beside me, she leaned close enough that our arms brushed. She said, in a hushed voice, "Yeah, well, it can be entertaining but sometimes it can get boring. The last time we played this team, the score was something like 23 to 19. That got dull and this one may be the same."

Conspiratorially, I leaned toward her, making our contact more pronounced. "Hm, well, maybe we'll have to make our own entertainment."

She laughed. "Well, maybe we will."

She stood up straight and crossed her arms. I wondered if she took offense at my remark.

We were silent as the next three batters walked. Her son strolled to the plate and the woman swayed toward me, our hips brushing together.

"I get so nervous when he bats, I usually can't watch."

I slipped my arm around behind her and put my hand on her waist. "Don't be nervous. He won't get hurt with the helmet on and he's got as good a chance of doing something good as anyone else."

In a soft voice directed at me, she said, "Yeah, I know the logic but you know how mothers are." She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled toward home plate, "Come on, Jason! Hit it hard!"

I held her tightly against my side, since she didn't protest, while the pitcher threw three balls that nobody could have touched. However when the next one came in eye-high and over the plate, Jason took a wild swing... and sent a weak dribbler rolling toward shortstop.

Everybody took off running. The pitcher grabbed the ball, dropped it, grabbed it again and threw it to first base — about nine feet high and over the fence. Two runs scored and Jason wound up on second base.

Meantime, I took a chance. I glanced behind us to make sure there were no watchers and I dropped my hand to her well-rounded bottom. She was so busy clapping and cheering she didn't seem to notice. My cock did, however, as it inflated to its maximum size, pushing hard against the front of my jeans. As the action on the field settled down, I noticed that she glanced at me, her face still wearing a broad smile. However, she didn't say anything.

The next batter walked to load the bases again and I lightly squeezed her bottom when she cheered. The next batter hit a looper between the right and center fielders and everyone started running again. This time the woman turned toward me, bouncing up and down as she cheered, her hands clapping my chest and back. I felt those big, heavy tits flopping up and down my side as she jumped. I could swear that my cock was larger than it had ever been before. I let my right hand rove over the curve of her buttocks.

We turned back to the game and watched batter after batter come to the plate and get on by walking or making some sort of hit that the defense did not play well. By the time the first inning was over, the score was 11 to 7 in favor of the black team.

With the boys grabbing their gloves and heading to their defensive positions, the woman turned to me and said, "Come with me."

I followed her to the parking lot. She went to the second row of vehicles and stopped at the side of a minivan whose windows were all smoked glass. She unlocked the side door and motioned me to get in. There were two lamb's wool covered captain's chairs in the second row and I plopped into one of them. She was right behind me, sliding the door shut.

No sooner had I settled into the seat than the woman was on her knees in front of me, pulling at my belt and zipper. She pulled my cock and balls out, propped my jockeys under them, and lowered her mouth around my throbbing hard-on. She began to bob up and down on my shaft, sucking like a vacuum cleaner.

"Honey, you don't have to do that," I volunteered.

She popped my cock out of her mouth, still holding it in her fingers. "Sugar, I know that look on your face. You want in my pants, don't you?"

"Well... yes, you are very sexy and I would love to... "

"You want to fuck me, I know. Well, honey, I've got one inviolate rule about men that I let fuck me. You damn well better be able to last until I get mine and I'm not easy to get off. So... I'm going to suck you off. If I can get you up again, we're going to fuck. If you can't get it up again, there's no use in wasting my time. All right?"