Baseball Ch. 04: Designated Hitter

Story Info
Johnny and Casey get closer, but he gets jealous.
4.5k words
4.71
16.2k
21
11

Part 4 of the 11 part series

Updated 06/10/2023
Created 03/04/2021
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
Octave888888
Octave888888
1,165 Followers

1. All characters are 18+

2. No characters resemble real people

3. Enjoy the fiction

Baseball Ch. 4 - Designated Hitter

I woke in a strange room - a room I'd only seen the night before - to a strange noise. Casey's phone was ringing. I rolled over and found her next to me, facing the other way. "Casey," I said softly, nudging her shoulder. She replied some unintelligible muttering. Not a morning person, I noted. "Casey, your phone," I tried again.

She reached out and silenced it, then turned over to face me. "Good morning," she said.

"Good morning." I went to kiss her, but she moved backwards.

"I probably have morning breath."

"I don't care," I said, and kissed her anyway.

Her phone rang again, and she rolled her eyes before rolling back over to get it. She held it to her face and said, "Hi Dad. Yes, I'm up now."

I quietly sat up. I didn't want to make a sound while she was on the phone with her father. I listened to her half of the conversation. "Lunch? Sure, I can meet you. Noon is fine. No, I'm not going to the stadium today until the game. I have some studying to do this afternoon. Yes, I'll be fine during my finals. Yes, Dad. Okay. See you soon, bye."

She hung up and looked at me. "I'm having lunch with my father at noon."

"I gathered. Am I not invited?" I said with mock offense.

She tackled me back down to the bed. "Unfortunately no. But it's only ten o'clock. We have time for a little fun."

"Ooh. Maybe a shower?"

"You read my mind."

Casey and I scampered into her bathroom. She took her hotness to another level as the water cascaded over her shoulders and down her fantastic breasts. There was soap involved, but I don't think either one of us was making a priority of getting clean. It was mostly a lot of kissing, and running out hands over each other's slippery body parts.

I took the initiative and sank to my knees. The shower wasn't big, but it was big enough for this. I kissed around her mound, nuzzling my lips and nose through the tiny patch of light blond hair, and gently nibbled on her inner thighs. "Oh, Johnny," Casey sighed from above me. Her hands ran through my hair as I continued my tease.

She was primed by the time I got to the center of her honey pot. "Hnnh," cried out my lover as I tasted her nectar there, "oh yes, keep going." I savored her lips, her clit, pressing my face into her flower, enjoying all she had to offer, and by her sounds, she was enjoying it too. What ended it, driving her over the edge, was a light but rapid flickering of my tongue over her clit. She cried out as she came, "Right there right there oh God yes yes Yes!" Her body shook so much that her legs almost gave out.

I stood up, wiped my face under the spray of the water, and kissed her fully, deeply. She pressed her body into mine. Then she drew back, saying with a smile, "something is poking me." It was my erection of course, and it had been jammed into her stomach by our embrace. "I think I can fix it though." She lowered herself to it, and gave it small kitten kisses all around the head, making me shudder. Then she took me into her mouth, and gave me slow licks as she suckled gently, but what really got me was her eye contact with me as she did it. It was one of the sexiest things I had ever seen.

"God, Casey, you're incredible," I groaned.

She sucked my member a little harder, and started bobbing up and down more. Then an felt her hands grab my butt, one on each cheek, and she basically started fucking me with her mouth. Again, full eye contact with me as she worked, and it was driving me close to the edge. I grabbed the tub's small handhold with my left hand, for support, but my right hand went to the top of her head. This was the most amazing blowjob of my life, and it was with my dream girl. "God, Casey, I'm gonna come," I grunted, and she bobbed faster. I came in her mouth, and she never let up until she had gulped down every last drop.

When I'd finished, she licked me clean, then rose back to her feet. I kissed her again, which I think surprised her. "I didn't get a chance to rinse my mouth," she said.

"I don't care that much," I told her. "After a job like that, I couldn't wait. You really are incredible."

We rinsed off and dried ourselves. By the time we got back to the bedroom, it was just past 11. "You need to get dressed for your lunch," I said as I threw on my clothes from the night before. "I should also get food, then get in a workout before the game."

"Yeah," Casey said. "But thank you, for coming over last night."

"Thank you," I said with a smile. "I'll call you tonight, after the game?" I gave her one more kiss.

"Perfect. Love you."

"Love you too."

I finished dressing and opened the door into the apartment's common area. Lani sat at the table, still in a robe. "Morning, stud," she said with a knowing smirk.

"Morning, Lani." With all the frantic sex last night, I had completely forgotten about Casey's roommate.

"Lani!" Casey called from behind me. "Leave him alone."

I quickly headed for the door, with Lani calling after me, mimicking her roommate's noises, "Oh Johnny!"

----

I started Saturday's game on the bench, then came in to pinch hit in the eighth inning. At the time, we were down by two runs. I got a base hit, knocking in a runner from second. Then the next batter struck out, ending the inning. We ended up losing by one. Oh well.

When I talked to Casey after the game, she reassured me that Lani wouldn't divulge our secret. I hadn't worried about that so much. I asked if Lani teased her about our night together, and she had, but Casey asserted that Lani deserved it for all the times she'd brought Dirk over and Casey had to hear it. "Plus, she's jealous I'm getting some now and she's not." Casey said flippantly. I told her that if Lani ever wanted to date another guy from the team, let me check out his 'dating habits' first.

Sunday was a day game, and I got the start at catcher. It was a rather good game for me. I got another home run, and I threw out two runners trying to steal second base. I hoped that would look good in the eyes of the managers.

Casey came over to my place around seven that evening. It gave me time to shower and clean up the tiny apartment, and get dinner started. She wrapped her arms around me as I let her in. "Good game, slugger," she said, kissing me sweetly.

"Thanks baby. It's always better knowing you're watching." I had seen Casey sitting up in the box with her father today.

"What's for dinner?"

"Lasagna, it's my specialty."

"Your specialty, huh?"

I guided Casey to sit and poured a glass of wine for her. "Back in high school, I had a part time job at an Italian place called Bruno's. Bruno had me start doing kitchen prep, like cleaning and chopping vegetables. But eventually he taught me how to cook a few things."

"Ooh," said Casey, "I had no idea my boyfriend was a trained chef."

"I don't know about 'chef', but I know enough not to burn the kitchen down." I pulled the lasagna from the oven and plated up a couple pieces. I'd also thrown together a simple salad. Casey raved about the food and finished off her portion quickly. We both had a smaller second portion, then she helped me with the dishes.

We retired to the couch, my arm around her, watching some movie we'd both seen several times but still liked. About halfway through it, my phone rang. I picked it up and the screen said it was Morgan.

"Who's Morgan? Do I need to be worried about some other girl eating your lasagna?" Casey asked.

"As a matter of fact, Morgan has had my lasagna, but she's my sister, so don't worry about her." I answered the phone, "Hey Morgan, how are you?"

"Johnny! I saw you got a home run today," my little sister gushed. "Took you long enough."

"Hey, that's two in a month," I said defensively. "How's school? Almost done?"

"Yup! Two more weeks. Can I come up and visit you after that?"

"I guess so, but my apartment is tiny. You'll have to crash on the couch. And you'll have to wait for me to be playing at home. If you come up right after you finish, I'll be on the road."

"That's fine. I miss seeing you."

"I miss you too, but I'm a little busy at the moment." I was watching Casey's hand idly rubbing my thigh as she watched the movie.

"Busy with what? Are you with a girl or something?" I didn't respond right away, and Morgan picked up on it. "You are, aren't you?" she gasped, "What's her name?"

"I gotta go, Morgan. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Fine. Call Mom too."

"I will. Bye." I hung up.

Casey pouted at me. "You haven't told your sister about me?"

"I thought we were supposed to be a secret."

"I guess you're right. But can you trust your sister? Sounds like she's going to come visit."

"Yes, we can trust her. But if I tell her, I might as well tell my mother too."

Casey thought it over. "Can we hold off on it? At least for now?"

"I guess we can. When Morgan visits, do you want to meet her?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I want to meet your sister!" Casey squealed. "Tell me all about her."

So I did. Morgan was finishing her second year at Ohio University, majoring in education. She was following in our mother's footsteps, aiming for a job as an elementary school teacher. She liked baseball, and played softball in high school, but wasn't as obsessed as Casey and I.

I told Casey about the time when Morgan was being harassed by some douchebag in her high school class. She had complained to the teacher, but her cries had gone mostly ignored. I told her to kick that boy in the balls if he messed with her again. She did and got detention. Mom went to the school and yelled at the principal, saying that it wouldn't have happened if the teacher had taken Morgan's complaints seriously. The detention was revoked. Then Mom called me (I was in college at the time), thanked me for advising Morgan, and told me not to tell her things like that again.

"She's got a good big brother," Casey noted, her head laying on my chest as we cuddled on the couch. "I'm glad she's got you. Some girls aren't as lucky."

"When she visits, maybe she can sit with you at a game," I offered. "Bring Lani, make it a girls' night."

Casey nodded. "That sounds like fun. I've never had a sister of my own."

"I know you're an only child. But you grew up around the team. Did you ever feel like the guys were like older brothers to you?"

Casey shrugged. "Not really brothers. When I was younger, they were more like uncles. I guess I never got out of that thinking."

"Until me?"

"Until you," she said, now smiling. "You are definitely not an uncle."

"Well, in that case, can I have a non-family type kiss?" I asked.

She kissed me, long and sweet, then she stood up and pulled me up from the couch. "Let's go."

"Go where?" I teased. I was pretty sure I knew where.

"Let's go have some fun, my non-uncle, good big brother, sexy slugger," she said as dragged me into the bedroom.

----

As I said before, bus rides are good for naps. I needed one that Monday. Casey had worn me out, then left just before midnight. She had her classes, and I had a week of away games. Before she left, she gave me another good, long kiss and told me to call her when I got to the hotel.

This bus trip was short as it was just to the nearest airport. Then we flew south to Charlotte, for three games against the Knights. Then we'd bus over to play three against the Durham Bulls before heading home. A bunch of the guys were happy to head for warmer climates on this trip. I guess it was exciting for me too, but it would have been better if Casey was with me.

With both of our hosting teams being farm teams for the American League, we'd be using a designated hitter this week, an extra batter in the lineup so the pitcher doesn't have to hit. I had grown up in Cincinnati, and the Reds never used a DH unless they were playing an AL team, so I always thought it was a weird thing. It was kind of like a symbiotic relationship: a way to get two players to fill one lineup spot.

I was a little surprised when I checked the projected lineups for the first three games and saw "DH" next to my name, for all three games.

"Don't read into it," said Chuck's voice from over my shoulder. He must have known what I was thinking. "I still trust your catching skills, especially after Sunday. It's just something I'm trying out."

"I'll still get to catch on this trip, right?"

"Of course. Probably that first game in Durham, on Friday. We'll see." He pointed at the lineups. "Those are just drafts, remember. Things can change."

I spent Monday evening making phone calls. First to Morgan, who grilled me about the girl I was seeing. I told her a little bit about Casey, but swore her to secrecy. She was confused until I told her that if anyone found out, Casey's father would flip out and I'd be fired, so Morgan finally agreed to keep it a secret.

The second call was to my mother. She wanted to know when I'd be coming back west to Ohio. I told her probably in a month or so, in the middle of summer. I promised to get her and Morgan tickets when those games happened.

Of course the final call was to Casey. No offense to my family, but that was the call I was looking forward to the most. She made me promise again not to go out looking for floozies in bars. I assured her I had no need when I had her waiting at home.

As Chuck predicted, things did change a few days later. I had no problem with just hitting the first two games, but on Thursday morning, Garcia (the other catcher) reported some muscle tightness and I got the start behind the plate that night, and again Friday. Then I sat on the bench Saturday, and was the DH again for Sunday.

Over the six-game trip, I had racked up seven hits and three walks in 24 appearances - not bad at all. Chuck told me himself how pleased he was. That was nice, but what was even nicer was arriving home late Sunday night and finding Casey sitting on my doorstep. We didn't have sex that night - I told her I was honestly just exhausted - but she did stay long enough for some warm kisses before she tucked me in and let me sleep. There's nothing like love to uplift your fatigued spirit.

----

Casey brought me lunch the next day, since I had the day off, and she had time after her morning classes. "I was thinking," I said as we ate, "you shouldn't have to wait on my doorstep for me to get home."

"Sweetie, I don't mind that. I wanted to see you, even if it was only for a bit."

I took her hand. "No, you misunderstand. I loved that, last night. What I mean is, you shouldn't have to sit outside." I opened my other hand and showed her my spare key.

The confused look on her face cleared. "Oh. Oh! You just want me to wait inside?"

"Exactly. What if my bus gets in late? You could be out there for a long time, or in your car in the parking lot. That's not safe. I'd be happy knowing you're inside."

She squeezed the hand that I held. "That's so sweet. You're so thoughtful. I knew I picked a good one."

----

After lunch, we both went to the stadium, separately of course. I had to work out. Casey had to do some office work. It was amusing for me to see a few of the players reacting to her presence as they passed her in the halls. A few smiled and called her by her first name, but several just nodded and acknowledged her as Miss Wentworth. I also called her that as I walked past, and she cocked an eyebrow at me.

I tried not to bug her much that week, as her final exams were coming up. We still called and texted each other, but I wanted to be respectful of her study time. I also knew that the team managers were throwing her a little graduation party on the Monday after she got her diploma.

When we did see each other, I helped her study. I even spent Saturday morning at her apartment, quizzing both Casey and Lani. Both were serious about finishing strong, getting good final grades, and getting good recommendations from their mentoring professors.

Sunday was another afternoon game. I was forced to sit on the bench and see Casey sitting next to Landon. As usual, he barely looked away from his phone. What really irked me about that was his arm around her shoulders. I was jealous, and I admitted it to her that evening when she came over for dinner.

"You have nothing to worry about," she promised. "He's not even in your league."

"It doesn't stop me from hating him."

"You actually don't even know him," Casey pointed out, "you're really just hating the fact that we can't do that in public."

She was right. I nodded, "Yes, I do hate that. But I also reserve the right to not like Landon. I don't know him, but he looks like a smug weasel. And quite frankly, I'm surprised he hasn't made more aggressive moves on you."

"Ah. I can explain that. I told him I didn't want to do anything until after I'm done with school."

"But you're done next week. Finals start tomorrow."

She frowned. "I know. Trust me, I know. And I'm sure he'll start being more aggressive right after graduation. I'll have to think up some other excuse."

"But why make excuses at all? Just dump him."

"I told you, he's the guy my father approves of. If I dump him, my dad will find another guy to push on me, and he could be way worse. At least Landon has some self-control." I still wasn't happy with that answer, and she knew it. "You do trust me, don't you?"

"Yes," I answered, "I completely trust you. I just wish we could be together like a normal couple. I wish we could figure things out with your father."

"Me too. Please, just give me more time. I promise I will talk to him."

----

While I was on a road trip, Casey was acing her finals. I knew she would. She was smart as a whip. She graduated on that Saturday and sent me pictures. Her in her gown, her with Lani, her with her father. Then one without her gown, or anything else. That one was my favorite.

The party on Monday was great. It was a nice catered lunch; a good way for us players to socialize with the coaches and staff, and celebrate Casey. A few of Casey's friends were invited, but Lani declined in an effort to avoid Dirk.

Casey's dad, Mr. Wentworth, made a small speech, which made her smile. Then Landon got up, and put a big shiny necklace around her neck, and kissed her on the cheek, in front of everyone. It was subtle, but it was definitely his way of laying claim to the fair maiden.

Once again, I was the designated hitter: one of the two guys filling the role of Casey's boyfriend. She told me she loved me, and I believed her. Even if it was true, it was still torture watching her parade around with that guy.

The couple moved around the room together, talking to several people, and eventually they made their way over to me. "Landon, this is Johnny Mills."

"Ah, yes," said Landon, "the catcher, sometimes other positions, right?"

I forced a smile. "Right. But really just a catcher. I only play elsewhere when Chuck is truly desperate."

"Multi-talented, then. I've seen your stats. You're definitely a contributor." Then he saw someone else, most likely a bigwig like himself, and excused himself.

"Quite an accessory," I commented to Casey.

She looked down at the necklace. "It's big, isn't it? It looks gaudy."

"I meant you," I clarified. "You're his accessory." I motioned to Landon, who was now shaking hands with other executive-looking men in suits.

"That's not nice."

"He's seen my stats? What does that mean?"

"He wants to be more involved with the team," she explained. "He knows it's important to me."

"You love baseball and you watch every game. But he doesn't. He's a numbers guy, right?" Casey didn't say no, so I continued. "I'm guessing that he's looking at the players' numbers and not their performance, or their intangibles, or athleticism, or passion. Things you understand and he never will." Casey just frowned at me. "Tell me I'm wrong," I insisted.

Octave888888
Octave888888
1,165 Followers
12