Isabelle

Cats! He hated cats. His cousins had cats, dozens of them. They claimed that it was to keep the rats out of the grain silo, but he was sure it was because they were just too lazy to get them fixed. Whatever the reason, from the moment his mom used to drop him off on the farm in June, to the day the taillights passed the edge of the dirt driveway in September, he was surrounded by cats. Every summer for sixteen years it had been the same. Luckily, for him those summers were are behind him. Now, he had a different kind of summer.

He had come back from a three mile run through the neighborhood, showered and was headed out to the backyard to spend the rest of the afternoon looking over the notes that the team statistician had compiled. His plans were derailed. There it was, a cat, lounging in his hammock. It lay tilted to one side with its front leg sprawled outward while the second paw moved from its tongue to wash behind its ear. The cat looked up and reminded him of those long summers where he had been constantly harassed by six female cousins.

"C'mon cat." He picked up the slender, ash-gray feline with the intent of depositing it in the front yard. "Time for you to go home." The cat gave a low meow, but did nothing else to protest the ride.

He had taken one step onto the porch when the soft tones of a female voice singing reached his ears. The unfamiliar melody came from behind the five-foot masonry wall that separated his two-story house from the neighbors. With cat in hand, he headed to the wall. When he reached it and he peered over to find a woman on her hands and knees, planting marigolds in a small planter along the wall. She wore a white T-shirt with the sleeves rolled-up to her shoulders, denim cutoffs and white Keds. Resting on her head and obscuring her face from his view, was a straw hat.

"Miss?" He always used Miss, never Ma'am, no matter what the age. It was something his mother always complained about every time she came back from shopping at the mall. "Michael," his mother would start as she deposited her black leather purse on the kitchen table. "Don't go calling women Ma'am. It makes them feel old. Always use Miss. It will set your conversation off on the right foot because you never know where that discussion is going to lead."

A thirty-something face looked up from beneath a wide brimmed hat. She placed her hands over her brow to block the sun and smiled. "Yes?"

"Is this your animal?" he said extending the cat over the wall.

The women reached up and took the cat from him. She cupped the cat in her hands and put its face to hers so that her nose was touching that of the animals. "Isabelle, did you meet the new neighbor before me?"

"I really don't like cats."

"You know cats are a great judge of character."

"Could you keep it out of my yard?"

"Free spirited, too. They just come and go. Normally, Isabelle stays around the yard for the first week. I am surprised she came over so quickly. You must have a kind heart."

"I don't like cats, Miss" he repeated weakly.

"Annie. Annie Fontaine." She took off her soft, cotton, gardening glove and extended her hand "I moved in last week. You know I saw you running yesterday. You have a good strong stride but your movements aren't very fluid. You should try relaxing your upper body a little. You run tense."

Mike stared at her face and for a second was lost in her jade eyes and full lips. He broke free of her hypnotic facial features then clasp her slender white fingers in his hand. The skin was soft and smooth but the grip beneath was firm.

"And your name?"

"Mike Raster."

"Well, Mike Raster. Thank you for bringing Isabelle home." She pulled the glove back onto her hand "I am sure we will see you around." She lowered her head, leaving Mike gazing at the bright yellow sunflower that was attached to the brim of her hat.

Mike slowly walked back to the center of his yard and picked up the manila folder that lay beneath the hammock. He mumbled to himself. "I really don't like cats." He brushed the small gray hairs from the hammock with the folder's edge. He then took his usual resting position in the center of the hammock and opened the folder to study. The soothing sound of the woman's voice coming from next door caused his mind to wander, while the familiar, yet uncommon, tingling worked its way down his stomach to his loins.

"C'mon, Mike, concentrate." He tried to refocus on the pitching tendencies and box scores of the next day's opponent. "You got a game tomorrow. You got no time to be thinking about women, especially ones with cats."

He arrived at the ball pack the next day exhausted. Images of felines and flowers had haunted his dreams and throughout the pre-game work out, he could not shake the thought of Annie. When the game started, his mind was in turmoil and when it was over, he had gone 1 for 4 at the plate with a walk and two errors. He drove home disgusted with himself. How could a woman with just a smile and a few off- topic comments so easily ruin his whole mindset? He was quickly reminded of the last time this had happened.

It was the spring of his senior year. He was taking some extra batting practice before the state championship game when Stacy Colburn caught up with him.

"Hey, Mike. You got a second? I need some help moving the boxes of soda syrup into the concession stand."

Stacy was cute, but not drop-dead gorgeous. She had a button nose, soft lips and hazel green eyes. Her hair was pulled up into a ball cap with a tail of red hair pulled through the hole in the back. She wore a blue denim skirt and yellow T-shirt and white sneakers.

"No problem." Mike returned after he deposited the final ball from the pitching machine into the nets at the back of the batting cage. He took off his batting gloves and stuck him in the back pocket of his Levi's.

He laid the aluminum bat against the chain link wall and stepped out of the enclosure. Stacy clasped him by the hand. Mike looked down at their interlocked fingers and then into Stacy's smiling face.

"C'mon slowpoke" she tugged on his hand. "I ain't got all night to move this stuff. My dad's coming to pick me up in a half hour."

Mike stumbled after her, still puzzled by the hand holding gesture. It was the first time it had happened at school, not that he was unattractive, but he was too busy playing ball to be bothered with girls. Beside, with his dad gone he had to shoulder a lot of the household responsibilities while his mom worked graveyard shift at the hospital.

The concession stand was behind the bleachers, thirty yards from the batting cages. When they arrived, Mike did not see any boxes. He figured they were inside and she needed help stacking them onto the shelves. Stacy turned the knob of the door and switched on the bank of florescent lights overhead.

Mike walked through the open door ahead of Stacy. The place smelled of popcorn and licorice. He quickly looked around the twelve-foot by six-foot trailer for the boxes but saw nothing that needed to be moved.

"Stacy, what did you need help with?"

"This!" She threw herself into his arms and they tumbled down to the floor. She mashed her lips into his. Although he was surprised, he kissed her back, mimicking Stacy's movements. Then she started clawing at his pants and soon he lie exposed on the sticky tile floor. Stacy quickly slid out of her short skirt and pink cotton panties. Mike remembered the matted patch of red hair that covered her sex. She pulled her shirt over head and freed her young breasts. She moved his hands to her chest. He felt the firm orbs beneath his trembling fingers and the erect nipples beneath his palms. She gasped at his touch then crawled onto his hard member. Once he was buried inside her, she wiggled and moaned.

He pushed up into her with tentative pulses, but his caution gave way to passion and he found himself thrusting up into her, matching her gyrations. Stacy moaned and cried out in ecstasy, filling the tiny room with the sounds of her pleasure. Minutes later, Mike exploded for the first time with everything he had and then lay silent staring up at Stacy's body as she continued to ride him. He prayed that this was not all just a dream.

When he had recovered, he looked up into her face. She smiled and leaned over to kiss his lips. She then cleaned herself with the napkins from the aluminum dispenser on the counter. Mike stood up and pulled up his pants. He had turned his back from her and was tucking in his shirt when he felt her hands wrap around his waist and then retreat to his back pockets. He paused wondering if he should reach and grab her from behind when he felt her body pull away.

As he turned around, Stacy was waving his batting gloves in the air while she exited the door of the trailer. "Good luck tomorrow, slugger." The door clicked shut.

He had gone 1 for 5 against with three strike outs, only one RBI, an error and his hands hurt for a week because he hadn't had his batting gloves.

A horn blared behind him and woke him from his pleasant memory. He looked up to see that the traffic light was now green and the car that was directly in front of him was now fifty feet away. He stomped on the accelerator and his Black Wrangler lurched forward.

"If you are going to make it on the post season roster," he told himself "you better push Annie and her cat aside."

When he arrived home, the cat was there again, napping in the late afternoon sun at the foot of his hammock. He yanked open the sliding glass door and charged out the door, hoping to scare the cat off but Isabelle called his bluff and lazily rolled over onto its back and pawed at the air, inviting him to rub her belly.

Mike went back inside and sat dejected on the sofa, staring out through the bay window at the animal that had taken over his yard. The next day Mike left for Reno. It was the start of a ten-game road trip. When he left, the cat was in his backyard, sitting beneath the hammock and cleaning its fur.

He had made a call to Annie under the pretense of having keep an eye on his place while he was gone. He mentioned that her cat was still in his yard and Annie laughed into the receiver. "It would appear that Isabelle has found a boyfriend."

The first part of the road trip went well for the team, but Mike was in a major slump. It went 0 for 12 in first three games and 1 for 9 in another other two. He defense was solid but every night his mind was occupied with Annie. Her singing never left his thoughts nor did the image of the furry creature beneath his hammock.

"Raster," his manager's voice boomed in his ear as they team went over the pitching patterns of the next days starter. It yanked him away from a picnic with Annie. "Either whack off or get laid, boy, 'cause the pussy that is in your head is killing your bat." The roar of his teammates was loud in the small locker room and for the rest of the trip, jars of Vaseline, rolls of toilet paper and Porno Magazines were stuffed into his locker before and after every game. Even Chip, his road-trip roommate since he got drafted, joined in.

"So Mike, do you some need quality time with old rosy and her five daughters? I can always step outside. Hell, I even made you a sign." Chip reached into his sports bag pulled out a make-shift door sign that he had made of an old stat sheet. He flung it over to Mike. On the back, he had drawn a spurting phallic and the words Self-Gratification in Progress in big letters above it and "Do Not Disturb" along the bottom.

Mike crumpled up the sign and threw back at Chip who was standing across the room cackling like a schoolboy. "Screw you."

Mike arrived home at seven o'clock at night. Nine more grueling days had passed. He had survived the road trip and the continuous razzing from his team. His game was still in a huge slump but at least for the moment the constant harassment was over. He dropped his bag in the center of his living room, opened it and pulled out his old aluminum bat that he took to away games for good luck. In the reflection of the windows, he practiced his swing, focusing on the little things that usually contributed to a slump. "See the ball, shift your weight, snap your wrists and explode." He thought as he swung. It felt like it always had. He just wasn't making contact. The ball looked like a marble as it crossed home plate.

"What's the use." He tossed the bat into the cushions of the couch. "It's all in your head." Just then, the phone rang.

"Hello," Mike grumbled into the phone.

"Welcome home, stranger." Annie's cheerful voice was on the other end.

"Hi. I am kind of busy." Mike was not really in the mood to talk.

"Do you have any wine?" Her voice was soothing.

"Yeah, I think so." Mike glanced over his shoulder to the kitchen at the unopened bottle resting on top of the refrigerator.

"Good, so then I won't bring any when we come over."

"Come over? Wait! No, I am not..." The connection was silent.

"Damn" he said out loud. Mike grabbed his suitcase and team bag from the floor and tossed them into his bedroom. He then scooped the bat from his couch and quickly shoved it into the closet just as the doorbell rang. Mike opened the door to greet his guest. She wore a chiffon sundress, sandals, and her hair was up and off her neck. On her hands, she wore two big oven mits and carried a large tray of lasagna.

"Got that wine?" Annie smiled as she walked through the door trailed by the smell of melted cheese, garlic and oregano.

"In the kitchen but..." Mike started to close the door when he heard a sharp "Meow" at his feet. He looked down and waited as Isabelle passed over the threshold. She rubbed against Mike's legs in a figure eight pattern, purring as she went. She then proceeded into the room where she lay down at the foot of the couch and closed her eyes.

"Hey, where's the cork screw?" From the kitchen the sound of drawers being shut were heard. "Never mind. I found it." The low squeak of the cork being pulled from the bottle followed.

Mike walked into the kitchen to protest. "Annie, I really wasn't expecting anyone over. In fact, I was hoping to spend some time by myself. You see, I am in a slump."

Annie handed him a glass of wine. "Cheers." She clinked her glass against his.

Mike took a quick sip then put his glass on the counter. His voice felt low and gruff as his whole body begged her. "Like I was saying, I really want to be alone."

She put her glass beside his on the counter and looked deeply into his eyes. He felt his resolve melting. Without warning she kissed him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Mike looped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him. His tongue slid between her lips and sought out hers. Inside her mouth, their flesh swirled as she ran her hands along his back. He pulled her tight, pressing his chest into hers. He could feel her breasts against him through his shirt. The minutes passed and Mike's passion escalated. He explored her face and neck with his lips and memorized the shape of her body with his hands.

Annie pulled free from his embrace and then led him by the hand to the living room and sat him on the couch. She scooped up Isabelle and opened the sliding door. Isabelle protested audibly but didn't struggle as she was deposited outside into the backyard. When Annie closed the door and proceeded to the couch, Mike was seated with his back against the cushions, a look of confusion was apparent on his face. Annie stepped between his knees and then slid her sundress up over her head. She dropped the dress to the floor beside her, and stood in front of Mike wearing only a pair of white laced panties. Mike stared, mouth wide open. It had been some time since he had seen a half-naked woman and never one of such beauty. Her stomach was flat, and her legs were toned. Her skin was bronzed with the exception of her firm breasts which in contrast were an ivory white where a triangle shaped bikini top held her modesty intact. Annie leaned over placing her hands on his chest. She kissed him, pressing her soft lips hard into his, and running her tongue into his mouth. When she pulled away, she lifted Mike's golf shirt up over his head. She then reached back and undid the butterfly clip allowing her hair to fall around her face.

She then ran the soft strands over his bare chest and stomach, tickling his skin with the soft follicles. Annie opened his tan slacks and pulled them over his thighs to the floor. Mike raised his feet, toed off his shoes, allowing the pants to slide off his legs. Annie then knelt before him, running her hands over him slowly making her way down his body. By the time Annie reached his stomach, Mike's shaft was rock hard. She rubbed the stiff pipe around her nipples arousing them to erection.

She cupped her mouth over the flushed tip of his member, teasing the head with her tongue and teeth. Mike shifted on his couch as his pleasure continued to mount. Annie licked her hand and ran the slippery palm up and down the shaft. After several strokes, a bead of clear fluid appeared on the tip.

"God that feels good." Mike whispered under his breath while waves of pleasure surged along underside of his cock with each pass.

Annie kissed it away, then put Mike's manhood into her mouth. Moving up and down its length, she matched the pace that she had used with her hands. As she sucked, Annie cupped his balls, massaging each one and stroked the whole sack with the tips of her fingers. She ran her hands along his ass and behind his legs teasing the tight flesh and firing off every nerve in her path. Mike groaned again. His cock was growing larger with every second. He could feel the cum rise up inside, working its way up his rigid stalk. Finally, she released her hold on him and stood up.

Mike gazed at her nude form again, staring into her face and then letting his eyes drift down her body. Her panties were soaked through with her own juice and the once opaque material was now translucent, showing the dark patch of trimmed hair beneath. Mike reached out. He slowly stripped the panties from her body. Annie stepped from the moist garment and spread her legs apart. Mike ran the back of his hand up along the inside of her thighs, stroking her soft skin. He felt his way up their shapely form to the black pelt that lie between them. At his touch, her sex bloomed and the pink flesh beneath quickly engorged and parted, inviting Mike's playful touch. Using his thumb and forefinger together, he clasped the little pink nub stroking the two folds against one another.

Annie gasped. "Yes. Lover, Yes."

Mike massaged the two layers of slippery flesh, then with the fingers of his free hand, he began stroking the inside of Annie's sex, teasing just inside her wet pussy then probing deeper with his fingers and running them along the roof of her canal. Annie shuddered.

"Oh God."

Mike's fingers coaxed the gentle juice from inside her body. He continued to toy with her sex. Fast, then slow his fingers traced geometric patterns along her warm, wet, pussy. Annie's quivering flesh was alive and her clit was now totally engorged. Annie spasmed, then came, her body quivering above Mike, almost collapsing as her cum continued to coat Mike's fingers.

Mike steadied her between his legs, allowing her to immerse herself in her own pleasure. Seconds passed before Annie opened her eyes again. Mike pulled her over him and slid into her, burying his full size deep into her love tunnel. "Go slow," he whispered. "It has been a while and I want to feel you before I cum." Annie smiled and then began to rock slowly over his hot shaft, grinding her flesh into his hips. Mike could feel her wetness on his skin as she moved up and down over his thick tool.

He knew it wasn't going to be long but he wanted to wait. He reached up and began to play with her breasts, squeezing the hard mounds then toying with the nipples using his thumb and fingers.