The Championship Baseball Game

When we weren't in the swimming pool during the summer months, we were usually down at the community recreational center. It was pretty nice. Outside it had a lot of trees that we could loll under out of the heat and some assorted picnic tables. There were some swings, a sliding board, the obligatory basketball court, and, surprisingly, a well cared for baseball field. Of course, it wasn't regulation; it was a compromise between a softball field and a regular baseball field, but it suited the needs of the neighborhood very well.

Inside the most inviting characteristic was the ice cold air conditioning. There was also a large color TV connected to cable, books and magazines, a computer, old comfortable furniture, CDs and a CD player, and the necessary Foosball table. Sometimes my friends would go outside and smoke a blunt, but I didn't usually partake. I didn't like the effects; it'd make me paranoid and horny. There's a helluva combination for you. I wanted to have sex, but I couldn't trust anybody!

The rec center director was named Charles. He was real young, he had just graduated from college and he was waiting to receive his first teaching position. If I were to describe him, it would be easiest to just call him a tall bronze god (little g). He stood over six feet, his muscles had muscles, and he was so good looking he had grown women hanging off him, whenever I would see him outside of the recreational facility.

The only problem was he had a sharp tongue in his head and he could be such a smart ass when he wanted to be. I mean, we knew it was all in fun, but it would get old after awhile – you know? One day he was going on and on about how we never got any real exercise and how out of shape we all were. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore and I jumped up and stood in front of him.

"Here," I exclaimed, pushing my body up in his face. "Does this look like I'm out of shape?"

Charles laughed that deep hearty laugh of his. "Miss Sara," he replied. Charles always called me Miss Sara. "I wasn't talking about that kind of shape. I bet you all couldn't even play a baseball game to the completion without having to drop out."

Well, like I said before – sometimes I let my mouth overload my ass, so I go, "You're on. We'll play you all in baseball. Now what's the bet?"

Charles laughed again, as my friends were falling out all over the place behind me saying, "No way!" and "Stop it, Sara!

If you win, I'll take you all out to eat dinner," the young black man explained. "And if we win, you all take my team out to dinner."

"Alright," I declared. "It's a deal." My friends were all moaning and groaning.

The rec director responded, "We'll play in one week's time. You all can use our equipment in the game and to practice with whenever you want." I thanked him and the deal was set. ……….

Well, needless to say my friends were not happy. I think my best friend at the time, Kristine, a real cute little brunette, summed it up best when she said, "Sara, you've really lost your mind this time. The other team is all boys. They're gonna kill us."

I had to admit her assessment was correct based on our practices. Some of the team acted as if they had never seen a baseball, glove, or bat before. And they all threw – gasp – like girls! Haha! We had two guys and they were our pitcher and catcher, so at least we didn't have to worry about that. After our last practice, the team was clustered around me demanding that I apologize to Charles and call the game off.

"No way!" I answered. "Don't worry, I have some secret weapons in mind. And all you girls remember to wear your most revealing mid-riff and the shortest shorts you own."

The day of the game finally arrived and when the team arrived I noticed they had complied with my directions. They all looked very hot! And when they ran, their mid-riffs would fly up revealing their bras. I knew it wouldn't do any good to try to convince any of them not to wear their bras, but at least some of them had chosen really sexy looking ones and nobody was wearing those icky looking sport bras. Man, some of their shorts looked painted on they were so tight and I'm not sure if they were all wearing panties or not, because I just don't see where some of them had any room under their shorts.

The team received it's first surprise when it arrived and discovered Catherine was going to play with us. That's right, Catherine – Mr. Boyd's girlfriend. It turned out she was a gym teacher too and when I explained it to her, she decided she wanted a piece of the action too.

Since it was summer and she had declined to teach summer school, she had a job as a sales clerk at a posh downtown department store in the women's section. The statuesque brunette had arrived directly from work on her lunch hour and had to return to work right after the game, so she was wearing that same short dress she had been wearing the last time I saw her.

She looked awesome. When ever she bent down, her dress was so low cut, you could see all the way down to her beautiful nipples! And she wasn't wearing a bra. I quickly recognized that she had obeyed my suggestions.

Of course I was dressed in my bikini. There was no rule against that, even though when Charles saw it he attempted to claim it was against the rules. I think he had already began to get a glimmer of my plan. This was going to be a cake walk!

The game started and we even had an umpire. One of Charles' staff had volunteered and I really think she didn't appreciate his sense of humor too much, because it seemed as if most of the close calls went our way.

We flipped a coin to see who got to be home team and I swear the ump flipped it between her fingers after catching it. But whatever, we won the toss and picked home team, so we would have last at bats.

Charles tried to act as if I had made some hideous mistake in his rather feeble attempt to convince me to change our decision. I stuck out my tongue out at him and declared, "I know a little more about the game then you think, Chas." I knew he hates being called Chas.

Our pitcher's name was Bobby Foster and he was a strapping six feet, three and he pitched for his college freshman team. His catcher was his brother Jackie, who had played on the varsity at our high school school. Needless to say, Bobby struck out the side in the first inning. We came in to bat. Charles was pitching for their side and he was pretty good. I did mention he was athletic, didn't I?

Our first two batters, of course, struck out, but they looked damn hot doing it with their little shirts blowing up above their bras, when they took a swing. I could tell from the look on the boys' faces on the other team that we were already getting to them.

The third batter up was Catherine and I suppose Charles thought if he was nice to her maybe she would go out with him later or something. Of course he didn't realize she was a physical education teacher – not in that getup she was wearing. So he threw her a soft pitch and she swung and whistled it right by his left ear and into center field. You should have seen the expression on his face! I laughed out loud and he glared over at me.

Catherine took a lead off first base and at the earliest opportunity Charles threw over there; supposing I guess to catch her unaware for the third out, so his little ego could be assuaged.

Now Catherine had been in the correct baserunner's stance perfectly balanced with her feet spread apart and her knees bent, which had caused her already short dress to ride up way high on her thighs.

I couldn't see well from our dugout on the first base side, but I wouldn't be surprised if her thong was completely visible. I do know that she was bent at the waist in the appropriate manner, while resting her hands on her knees and I could see the firstbaseman was very engrossed in looking down her dress at her breasts that were now completely visible down to her nipples.

Unfortunately for him, Charles didn't notice the firstbaseman wasn't paying any attention until he threw over there and of course the throw went down the first baseline and into the rightfield corner. By the time the dust had settled, Catherine had scored. Mwahaha! Charles was so mad he walked our pitcher and catcher intentionally and then struck out the next girl in three straight swinging strikes. So we were ahead one to nothing.

Charles led off the top of the next inning, batting in the cleanup spot naturally and hit a mammoth homerun over the leftfield fence on the first pitch. It was nothing bad against our pitcher; Charles was a grown man and Bobby was only nineteen years old.

Even though another couple of guys got on base, we got out of the inning by only letting in the one run, when Kristine was kindhearted enough to strip down to her bra and panties at her position at shortstop with two on base and two out and when a three ball and two strike pitch was rocketing toward the plate. Naturally the batter completely froze, as he was staring at her and the third strike cut down the middle of the plate for strike three. Charles attempted to protest, but the ump wasn't buying a bit of it. Haha!

When we got to the dugout, Kristine was blushing a bright red, but she admitted to me that she found it exciting and decided to not put her outfit back on, but to play in her underwear for the rest of the game. I slapped high five with her.

As luck would have it, Kristine was our leadoff batter, and, as she is fairly short to begin with, I had instructed her to bend over as much as possible to shorten the strike zone. I laughed out loud when I saw her. She looked as if she was suffering from severe cramps she was so bent over. Charles, of course, was screaming about it and the ump said, "Play ball!" Needless to say, Kristine walked on four straight pitches. A major league pitcher couldn't have hit 'that' strike zone.

Once she reached first base, the small dark-haired beauty was able to get a sizeable lead, because the first baseman kept staring at her in her skimpy bra and panties. At first, Charles attempted to get his firstbaseman's attention, but finally he gave up in frustration. He was so mad I thought I saw steam coming out of his ears.

When he peered into the catcher to signal him what pitch he was going to throw, because Charles didn't take pitching advice from anybody, I was coaching first base and waved Kristine to take off running down to second. By the time Charles had realized it, she had almost reached second base, but he threw there anyway. Unfortunately for him, the shortstop who should have been covering the base, was staring at Kristine as she jogged into the base with her breasts bouncing in her flimsy bra and the throw went wildly into center field and Kristine made third.

Unfortunately our next two batters struck out, as Charles really bore down and was throwing smoke. I'm ashamed to admit that one of them was me. After I made the second out, I took over coaching third base, because I had an idea. Since our next batter was a girl, Charles was taking his time and not throwing near as hard, because he realized now he might need to conserve some of his energy.

I stepped up to Kristine, as she was standing on third base and whispered my plan to her. She responded by violently shaking her head no. Charles threw strike one. I attempted to convince her by pleading with her. She still shook her head in the negative. Charles threw strike two.

As he went into his windup, I finally convinced Kristine and she pulled off her bra and panties and handed them to me and took off running nakedly down the thirdbase line in a wild attempt to steal home. Charles pitched the ball and the batter swung and missed – strike three!

But wait – the catcher had stood up and was abjectly staring, as the beautifully nude teenage girl ran right at him and the third strike floated harmlessly by him to the backstop. By the time their catcher had retrieved the ball and thrown to firstbase, the batter was safe there and Kristine had scored. As per our arrangement, I quickly ran to our dugout and handed the flushed, sweating, out of breath Kristine her underwear and she immediately donned them.

"That was awesome, dog!" I shouted at her. She just laughed insanely at me. I think for the moment the experience of publicly stripping herself naked in the middle of a baseball game had snapped her mind a little, but she soon came around. Good thing, because the next batter struck out and we needed her back at shortstop. So after two innings, we were ahead two to one.

We got three quick outs, as our pitcher bore down and then we came in to hit in the bottom of the third. Catherine was our first batter and Charles wasn't messing around with her this time. He tossed up there two quick strikes and then began to nibble at the plate, hoping to entice her into swinging at a bad pitch. But Catherine was too experienced for that. She had soon worked the count to two strikes and three balls.

"Time out!" I called out to the ump, who granted it and then I ran out and conferred with Catherine a few steps from home plate. The beautiful young brunette woman turned around and allowed me to pull the zipper down on her dress and then she stepped out of it revealing her beautifully shaped abundant breasts and her thong. I retreated with her outfit to the dugout.

The umpire called "Resume play," and Catherine stepped into the batter's box, being careful to not bend over for fear of getting her beautiful breasts hanging in the strike zone. I could see Charles' erection from our dugout and I knew it was a lost cause for him. Sure enough, the next pitch was nowhere near the plate and Catherine walked down to first base, where I gave her the dress back.

While the beautiful physical education teacher slipped her dress back on, Charles again intentionally walked our pitcher and then induced our catcher to hit into a double play and then struck out the next batter. They came in to bat for the top of the fourth.

Charles led off with another huge home run, this time over the right field fence and the score was suddenly tied again, this time – two to two. Bobby got the next three batters and we came in to hit in the bottom of the fourth. I thought I saw some tightness on Charles' usually relaxed features and realized he was beginning to worry about winning the game, now that he had glimpsed my strategy.

Kristine led off first and what a fighter she'd turned out to be. I had no idea about this before the game. She'd always come across to me as rather bland, but I liked to hang around her, because she had been so easy to boss around.

Well, she got two strikes on her and she then called me out of the firstbase coaching box. When I got to her, she just whipped off her bra and panties and handed them to me without a word. She jumped back in the batter's box stark naked. I could see my behavior was beginning to rub off on my friends.

Of course you know what happened; when the third strike came the catcher was busy watching Kristine and she was able to make it to firstbase, before he could get the ball there. A pretty big crowd had gathered from the neighborhood, because it's pretty boring in the afternoons in the summer and of course they were yelling all kinds of shit at Kristine because of her standing there totally nude except for her sneakers, but she just acted as if she didn't hear them. I offered her the underwear, but she declined saying she would stay naked, while she was on the bases.

The beautifully naked Kristine didn't have any trouble stealing second and third, while the eighth place batter and I struck out. I was particularly pissed off about it, because Kristine represented the go ahead run and she was only seventy feet away. So there was two out, when Nicole got in the batter's box. After swinging and missing the first ball thrown, she stepped out and called time. She called Kristine down from thirdbase and they stood talking. I'll tell ya, if that didn't look incongruous – a team of teenage boys on the field all decked out in different uniforms, Charles pitching and Kristine, the baserunner standing there totally nude. It was a hoot!

Just before Nicole resumed play she reached down and pushed her shorts down to the ground and stepped out of them! The crowd exploded, because the good looking blonde wasn't wearing any panties and she was a natural blonde too. I don't know because I'm not a guy, but I've always heard that men find a half dressed woman more erotic than one completely nude – but you know men, go figure. The half naked blonde got back in the batters box and her pussy was right on the same level as the catcher's eyes, since he was crouching. I bet you can figure out what he was looking at.

As soon as Charles started to move out of the set position, Kristine took off running from third base. Nicole, in the batter's box, never moved until the last possible second, so even though the catcher was holding the ball, he was completely oblivious to anything except for Nicole's snatch.

Nicole suddenly stepped out of the batter's box and Kristine slid into home safe. God! Think about that – sliding into home stark naked! But she was ok, and didn't have any strawberries from it. You know I think if those women, who played professional baseball would have played naked, they'd still be pulling in the crowds! Haha!

That put us ahead three to two. The score remained that way until the top of the ninth. I know, you're saying to yourself – oh, come on, how could you still be ahead? There was two reasons.

The first reason was Bobby finally got smart and started intentionally walking Charles instead of challenging him. The second reason was most of the team, except for Bobby and Jackie (damn it) had stripped down to some degree.

Catherine at first base was only wearing a thong. Nicole at secondbase was still naked from the waist down. Kristine, at shortstop, had remained stark naked. Our thirdbaseman, Carrie was only wearing her panties.

In fact, there wasn't a girl on our side, who hadn't removed some part of their outfits except for me. Ain't that a trip?! Anyway you know boys in their early teens can't concentrate on baseball if there's naked women around; at least these couldn't. They were like little kids in a candy store.

Well, of course the shit came down just like it always does in these stories. It was the top of the ninth and we were ahead by one run. We got two quick outs, but then the bases became loaded through two hits and a hotly contested base on balls. Charles came confidently striding up to the plate and I could see Bobby was tiring quickly. I had to do something drastic right now!

I called time out and then ran in from the outfield and sent Nicole out to right field, where I had been positioned. As Charles stepped into the batter's box, waving his bat menacingly at our pitcher, I moved up from the position as second baseman to standing right behind the mound.

As the pitcher wound up and threw towards the plate, I quickly whipped off my bikini and stood beside Bobby stark naked. Charles immediately backed up and pointed out at me and called out, "Sara, now you quit that!" The pitch split the plate and the umpire cried, "Strike!" Hehe, Charles had forgot to call time out.

Charles glared at the umpire angrily, who gazed back stoically at him. It was certainly within the rules of the game to call the pitch a strike, whether or not Charles considered himself ready. The young black man pointed his bat at me one more time in warning and then resumed his position in the batter's box.

When Bobby received the ball back from his brother, he happened to glance to his right and discovered me standing there totally nude. Apparently he was the only person within miles, who hadn't known about it.

When his mouth dropped agape and he stood staring at me, I nudged him and directed, "Hey! You can look at me anytime you want. Now bear down and get him and I'll let you get some." Hehe!