The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 17kbyPAUL C©
The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 17k: The Batting Order Ch. 11
We all watched as the Ambulance left the field and turned left onto the main road to Taunton.
I turned my head at the sound of Jim's voice. He threw the cricket ball to me. I fumbled my catch and the ball dropped to my feet. I heard Jerry laugh.
"You finish the over off." Jim continued.
I didn't normally get a chance to bowl. My slow leg spinners were seen as too expensive in this type of limited over cricket. Still there was only four balls left in the over. Jim was bowling himself as the fifth bowler so it would have to be either me or Ron to do it. I had seen Roger and Bill bowling in the nets and Jim was wise not to throw the ball to one of those.
I bent and picked up the ball and helped Jim organise the fielders into their positions. Bowling from the back of the hand the natural spin imparted on the ball would take it away from a right-handed batsman. Occasionally, if the bowler were good, he could get the ball to spin back into the batsman. Normally I would bowl three or four balls spinning away from the batsman before trying to catch him off guard and try to spin it back. A batsman as good as Jerry would be expecting me to do that.
I turned away from the bowling crease and marked out the five paces of my run up. I turned and looked up. Jerry was crouched over his bat waiting. Steve was ready behind the stumps, all pads and gloves. Ron stood close beside him in a catching position.
I jogged in, brought my arm over and released the ball. It was going to pitch wide of the stumps. Jerry was watching it. The ball landed and spun back towards the stumps keeping low. Too late Jerry moved his bat to play it. The ball struck the outside edge of the offside stump knocking it back and dislodging the bails.
For a second there was silence.
Then there was the applause from the spectators. Loud applause. Then the back slapping from my team mates.
"Got him with a googly. First ball. Well bowled."
Jim was pumping my hand.
I wish Jenny had seen it.
The lad nearest the door kicked it closed with his foot.
"What are you doing?" I demanded.
"Come on." Larry said, placing his hand on Sally's hip. "We're just going to have some fun."
"Get your hand off me." Sally shrieked, slapping his hand away and joining us behind the bar.
I picked up a bottle of milk and Lynda did the same.
The three lads approached the bar. They were smiling.
The door opened and Jerry stormed into the room slapping his bat against one of his pads.
The three lads turned from us and barged past him.
"See you later." Larry said over his shoulder.
"I should have gone out to meet it." Jerry continued, he was so full of his own problems he didn't seem to notice anything else. "It was wide."
The tension was slowly seeping from my body.
"You're out, are you?" Sally asked.
"Bloody ball." Jerry placed his boot on one of the chairs against the wall outside the away team's dressing room and started unbuckling his pads.
Sally walked from behind the bar and stood by his side resting her hand on his shoulder in a proprietary gesture. Lynda moved closer to me and placed a hand on one of my buttocks. My body tensed as she kneaded my flesh. Sally's hand rubbed across Jerry's shoulder blade and he looked up from unfastening his pad into her eyes. Lynda's fingers were pushing the seam of my jeans into the crevice between my buttocks.
There was another burst of applause from outside.
Jerry straightened up holding his pads in one hand. With the other he pulled Sally to him and planted a kiss upon her lips. I wished Lynda would kiss me.
"I'm going in to change my boots." Jerry said, taking Sally by the hand and walking towards the away-team dressing room door.
Another man in pads walked in through the door followed by a couple of the East Chipstable supporters.
"You didn't last long, Mart." Jerry remarked, dropping Sally's hand.
I could see a look of frustration on her face. Probably mirrored on mine as the two supporters asked for drinks and Lynda pulled her hand away to see to there needs.
"That bloody leg spinner." Mart replied, unfastening his pads. "I played my shot before the ball reached me."
"Out leg before." He continued.
"I best get back and get the tea things." I said, suddenly remembering.
I began walking back to the marquee. I could see Paul on the far side of the pitch. He was waving to me. He looked pleased with himself. I wonder why? I turned to look at the scoreboard.
One hundred and seventy-two runs for seven wickets. Only three overs to go. I turned back to the field. Len was running in to bowl. All three stumps seemed to go in different directions as the batsman missed the ball and it struck them with force.
Everyone was shouting. Why did they have to ask? Everyone could see the man was out.
I waved to Paul who was running in to congratulate Len. He raised two fingers in the air to me. What was he trying to say? Oh well. It couldn't be important.
Back in the marquee David was standing behind the teas counter talking to Shirley and Mary between customers.
"I'm glad you're back Jenny." Mary said. "Help Shirley with the cakes and sandwiches."
"I'll give you a hand." David said, picking up a tray.
I helped Shirley collect the other items and we walked back to the pavilion.
"East Chipstable are doing well." David observed, walking between Shirley and I. "I wonder who got their star performer?"
"He said it was the leg spinner." I replied.
Paul had tried to explain what one of those was once. It had all seemed needlessly complicated.
"That would be Paul." David said. "He bowls those."
"The other man said he was out to the leg spinner as well."
We reached the pavilion and set up the tea things on the table against the rear wall. I went behind the bar and helped Lynda set up the cups and saucers. The milk jugs were brought out of the fridge and lined up with the sugar bowls.
"We'll need more spoons." Lynda remarked.
"I'll get them." Shirley volunteered.
"I'll help." David said following her.
There was another burst of applause from outside and I walked to the door to see what was happening. Everybody was walking off. The East Chipstable innings must be over. I glanced at the scoreboard. One hundred and ninety-two runs for nine wickets. That was a lot of runs for our team to get.
I looked across to the marquee. Strange. David and Shirley couldn't have reached there this quickly.
The East Chipstable supporters and team-members passed me as they made their ways into the pavilion. Where could they be? I walked around the side of the building. I could hear groans and moans coming from the rear. I tiptoed to the corner and listened.
"Come on." David panted. "You know you want to."
"No. I said." Shirley sounded equally breathless. "No more."
There was the sound of movements and heavy breathing. I peered around the corner. Shirley was standing with her back to the wall of the pavilion about eight yards from me. Her hands were on David's shoulders, whether pushing or pulling I wasn't sure and his hands were on her hips.
One of his hands moved up to cup one of her breasts. She turned her head away from him and me. I heard her gasp.
"Please no. Don't David."
I could see his fingers massaging her breast and imagined the nipple hardening inside her bra. He pressed his body hard against hers and ground his groin against her.
She sighed and David pulled back. One of his thighs was between hers and as I watched she opened to her legs to give it better access. He was kissing her and his hand had left her breast. It was fumbling with the zip on her jeans. Then it was inside them.
"Oh no." Shirley gasped. "Please."
Her head was thrown back and she was breathing heavily.
Her orgasm was approaching fast. Her thighs were twitching and she was running her hands through David's hair.
I heard her little cry of pleasure as she came. David's hand remained inside her jeans, hardly moving. Something must have been for Shirley was panting again. I imagined his finger moving against her clit and reached down to massage my own pubic mound. I could feel the tension mounting inside me.
"Hello." I heard Paul's voice behind me and turned and threw my hands around the back of his neck.
"Kiss me." I breathed conscious of the rustling of clothing from around the corner.
Shirley brushed past us heading in the direction of the marquee as Paul's lips touched mine. I opened them to allow the entry of his tongue and explored the tip of it with my own. I pushed my pubic mound into his groin.
"Let's go to the car." I said, pulling my head back from his.
"I've only got half an hour." Paul complained. "For lunch and everything."
"You can start with everything then have your lunch." I replied, taking him by the hand and leading him to my car.
"Hello Paul." David said as we passed the end of the building.
He seemed to be having trouble with something inside his trousers.
"How did you do?" He continued placing his hands in side the pockets of his trousers.
"I took two wickets." Paul replied and seemed to hesitate as if wanting to talk to his father.
I wasn't having that.
"Come on." I hissed.
"See you later." He said to David. "Jenny wants to show me something."
"See you in the pavilion." David replied and turning his back on us walked quickly towards the far end of the pavilion.
We reached the car and I took my keys from the pocket of my jeans. I opened the driver's door, sat down behind the steering wheel and reached across and released the lock on the passenger's side. Paul joined me inside. There was a smell inside the car. A musty, sexy type of smell. Then there was the faint smell of sweat from Paul's body and his under armpit deodorant. Then my own as I lifted my arms to place them around the back of his head.
We kissed again. Briefly this time. His fingers were already feeling my breasts. Moving from one to the other increasing their sensitivity with each touch. They needed some serious attention. They may not be big but they liked being touched and sucked. I unbuttoned the top three buttons of my blouse and looked at Paul. He was sitting back watching me. If he wanted a show he could have one. I pulled my arms through the sleeves and reaching behind my back, unhooked my bra. I slipped my arms back into my sleeves and threw the bra onto the back seat.
He reached out a hand and felt my breasts again. I looked into his eyes, willing him to suck my nipples. His head moved closer. I could feel his breath against my skin.
I whimpered as the tip of his tongue gently touched my skin.
I ran my fingers through his hair as Shirley had done to his father. I pulled him closer. Filling his mouth. He pulled his head back and looked at me, his fingers moving down to the top of my jeans. One flick and the button was undone. He kissed the underside of my breast as his fingers pulled down on my zip.
There wasn't enough room behind the steering wheel for what I wanted.
"Push the back of your seat back." I panted, struggling out from behind the steering wheel to join him.
He lowered the seat to its fullest extent and kneeled in the well of the car between my open thighs as I settled back. He looked around as his hands pulled at my jeans and panties as I lifted my backside to aid their removal. He placed them on the drivers seat then, with a last look around outside lowered his mouth.
I think I came the moment his tongue touched my clit. He continued licking and sucking, pushing first one then two fingers up inside me. I placed my hands behind my knees and pulled them hard up against my breasts opening myself to him fully. I was going to come again. I cried out sucking in huge lungs full of air. He was moving over me. I reached down from the buttons of his cricket whites and we fumbled together.
He was smiling. I loved him.
His prick was already hard as I guided it into my body. His first thrust took my breath away. Then another and another. I wrapped my arms and legs around him as he moved above me, filling then emptying me. I couldn't come again. My body was tensing, as the pressure inside me became incredible. Then the release as he jerked inside me.
He stopped moving and I looked up at him. There were beads of sweat on his forehead. One was running down his nose. It was going to drip. I opened my mouth and caught it on the tip of my tongue. It tasted salty.
He was smiling again. As if he was pleased with himself about something. I was pleased with him.