Natitude Adjustment

Katherine Wray was elated as she walked into Nationals Park in Washington, D.C. for the decisive game 5 of the National League Division Series between her beloved Washington Nationals and the Chicago Cubs. She simply loved sports. The 40 year-old mother of two had been an elite college runner who even today continued regularly to win her age group in regional races. Katherine was likewise a phenomenal basketball player who, during her time at Stanford University, would have played on the women's varsity squad were it not for her serious dedication to studies.

In the years since college, including three spent at Harvard Law School, the willowy Nashville native kept herself in stunning shape through a continued dedication to running and participation in local basketball leagues. She supplemented that with a rigorous toning and weight lifting regime the result of which served to keep her 5' 8" body in spectacular form. With long toned legs and a fabulous ass, there was not a man who didn't take notice of the lovely Mrs. Wray. Her firm abs and wonderfully muscled arms - sculpted but not at all masculine - made it quite difficult not to stare.

When one matched that vision with Katherine's beautiful, fresh face, incredibly friendly demeanor, and genteel southern accent it was almost impossible for anyone - man or woman - not to like her. In fact, the only time that Katherine Wray ever rubbed anyone the wrong way was in the heat of competition or - on rare occasion - when a few extra cocktails would make her all too aware of just how fetching she was. One could only wonder what effect the combination of flowing competitive juices and flowing alcohol might have on the ordinarily adorable Mrs. Wray. Tonight, one would find out.

"Katherine . . . those shoes . . . "you're just too much," joked Emily Duncan as she, Mrs. Wray, Rachel Miras and Rebecca Ross made their way along the stadium's bustling concourse on the way to their seats.

The shoes in question were a pair of 4.5" fire engine red Manolo Blahnik heels that Katherine had worn that day to work but had most certainly not intended to wear to the game especially in light of her wearing a very cute, very short, pleated, wrap-around "Nats blue" skirt that appeared even shorter given the length of her spectacular legs.

"I know," Katherine giggled back at her friend blushing, "I had meant to slip into my red, low top, canvas Chuck Taylors and some white running socks for the game but when I went to change at the office, I realized I must have left them home. Does this look too ridiculous?"

"Are you kidding," Rachel Miras chimed in, "if I had a body like yours' I'd wear high heels and short skirts to the grocery store."

That the four friends could laugh about the issue was even greater testament to Katherine's good nature and general sweetness. She was just plain likeable and, even looking like a model in her high red heels, short blue skirt, red Nats t-shirt -- with the word "#natitude" on the back - and the club's red "curly W" hat, Katherine was neither arrogant, threatening nor dismissive of anyone. At least, that is, not yet.

"Hey, let's grab a drink before we hit the seats," said Rebecca Ross with a smile on her face.

"Sounds great," Emily answered, "and there's that new tequila bar - "The Tequilaria" - right by the "Nat Dogs" stand near our section. Shall we give it a whirl?"

As the other girls nodded their assent and all headed for some Jose Cuervo, men and women alike were taking notice of Mrs. Wray's incredibly - if unintentionally - sexy outfit.

"Keep your tongue in your mouth JD," Cherie Owen snapped at her husband.

Cubs' fans both, Cherie and JD Owen, along with Cheryl's nearly 95 year-old mom Gladys, had flown into DC with two other couples specifically for the game. For Gladys, a life-long Cubs fan who was born three years after the team's last World Series title in 1908, this 2016 season was shaping up to be the culmination of long held dream.

"And you two do the same," Cherie only half-jokingly chided the other men in her gaggle of pals as they too eyed Katherine Wray's departing derriere.

"Can you believe that woman," Cherie's friend Sara Pikofsky intoned, "what a show off."

"Forget about her ladies," exclaimed Tracie Stit, "the third of the three Chicago friends, none of whom was blessed with Katherine's physical gifts, "it's game five of the playoffs - all or nothing -now let's go get some hotdogs and find our seats."

"That's the spirit," Gladys chimed in as JD pushed the nonagenarian in her Cubs' colored wheelchair that she had specially designed for the trip. "I've got my lucky pennant with me tonight and I just know it's going to help us expose the weakness of this Nats club."

As Cheryl's spunky mom thrust the pennant she had owned since she was eight - a small triangle of red, white and blue fabric bedecked with the Cubs famous "C" logo at the end of two foot long wooden dowel - no one could have imagined the exposure it would soon bring.

In the meantime, Katherine, Emily, Rachel and Rebecca had each already thrown back two shots of tequila and, in a great mood, went searching for their own seats. Not surprisingly, there was not a man or boy who saw Katherine who didn't hope she'd be sitting close by.

"They're right down there," said Rebecca excitedly as she looked at her ticket, "only one row back from the field."

"Wow," Rachel Miras smiled widely, "these seats are great!"

"Too bad we've got a row of Cubs fans in front of us," Katherine added as she spied Cherie, JD, Gladys, and their friends taking their seats. "I sure hope they're ready to get spanked."

As Katherine laughed a bit too loudly at the unintended double entendre of her own joke - fueled by her strongly partisan feelings for the Nationals and two shots of tequila - Cherie and JD Owen turned around to see who was causing the ruckus. The former cursed her luck that in a stadium of nearly 50,000 people Miss Short-Skirt-and-Heels ended up right behind her while the latter tried to contain his ear-to-ear smile as well as the growing bulge in his jeans.

After the introduction of the teams and a performance of the national anthem by Adele that prompted a slightly tipsy Katherine Wray snarkily to remark, much to the consternation of Cherie, Sara and Tracie and the surprise of Emily, Rachel and Rebecca, "well she sure hasn't missed too many meals," the baseball game began. From inning to inning, the closely fought contest provided each team's fans reason to cheer. Katherine - now fueled by a few ballpark beers in addition to her earlier shots - was as relentless in her criticism of the Cubs' players as she was vociferous in her support of the Nationals. As much as her cat calls and other insults thrown at the Cubs rubbed Cherie and her friends the wrong way, Katherine's jumping up and down as she hurled them, in her high heels and short skirt, kept their husbands more than a bit interested.

For their part, the Cubs fans in front of her, evidencing their strong midwestern ethos, were less critics of Washington than supporters of Chicago. It was in a show of such support that the first hint of outward tension developed between Mrs. Wray and Mrs. Owen. Excited by one of the Cubs stars making a terrific defensive play, an elated Gladys threw her arms in the air, Cubs pennant in hand, and nearly poked Katherine Wray in the eye.

"Hey, watch it grandma," Katherine snapped irritated both by the Cubs player's success and her nearly getting hit, "you almost took my eye out."

Holding her tongue as best she could, Cherie Owen turned around and, facing the very long legs of the willowy sex kitten before her, offered a very tight lipped apology, "we'll try not to let that happen again Miss but . . . please remember . . . she's an old woman in a wheelchair."

Unimpressed by Mrs. Owen's gesture, Katherine merely rolled her eyes.

Not three plays later, Nationals' star Bryce Harper stepped to the plate and, with a hearty swing at the first pitch, sent what would be a home run screaming into the seats in Katherine's section. As fortune would have it, JD Owen, trusty mitt in hand, was the lucky fan that caught the ball.

"JD honey," Cherie Owen beamed with pride, "what a great catch. Mom - did you see JD's great catch? Now give my mom the ball sweetie."

"Now just one second darlin'," came the dulcet tones of Katherine Elizabeth Wray as, bending forward over JD Owen's seat she placed her long-fingered hand gingerly on his forearm.

As Cherie, Sara and Tracie looked on with shock that closely bordered anger - and even Katherine's friends stared in stunned surprise - the slightly sloshed Mrs. Wray continued her seduction.

"I don't think old wheels here wants to have a ball that Bryce Harper hit out of the park do you JD," Katherine purred, taking with her fingertip a dollop of mustard from atop JD's hotdog before continuing, "that ball should really go to a fan of his team - the winning team - don't you agree?"

Mesmerized by the short-skirted vision before him, whose long legs were squarely in front of his eyes and whose hand was now gently stroking his forearm, JD Owen simply handed the ball to Katherine with a smile.

Licking the purloined mustard naughtily from the tip of her finger as she gently took her prize in one hand, Katherine very seductively ran the other, one last time, across JD's arm before winking at him and practically smirking at Cherie, and offering, "thanks darlin' . . . I knew you'd do the right thing . . . and I really enjoyed the . . . sauce . . . from your hot dog."

Cherie Owen was incredulous as she watched her idiotic husband fall prey to this high-heeled trollop's wiles.

"I can't believe you gave her that ball," she stormed, "that was for my mom."

"Just relax," JD said sheepishly, "can't we talk about this later."

"Yeah, sweetie," Katherine Wray interjected with a self-satisfied smile on her beautiful face, "just relax . . . why don't you and your girlfriends go back to eating some more of those bratwursts y'all seem to like so much and . . . you know . . . have a change of Natitude."

Emily, Rachel and Rebecca were astounded by Katherine's behavior. She had clearly let what appeared to be the Nationals imminent victory, along with no small amount of alcohol, go to her head.

"Katherine," Rachel whispered to the now preening beauty who, standing proudly with her new possession, was giving JD and his friends every opportunity to drink in her fabulous body, "don't you think you were a bit hard on them."

"Oh settle down Rachel," came Mrs. Wray's flip response, "I'm not here to worry about how some corn-fed fatty from Chicago entertains her fossilized mother and, besides, look how happy that JD is after doing something chivalrous for a lovely southern gal. A guy like him doesn't get to see this every day."

And as Katherine Wray looked lovingly at, and ran a hand down, her admittedly fantastic figure, Rachel Miras realized she felt more empathy for Cherie Owen than she felt anything for her now very haughty neighbor.

As the game progressed and Katherine continued loudly to cheer on the Nationals and jeer at the Cubs, shouting on more than one occasion, "I've got the winning Natitude baby," others in the section, both Nats and Cubs fans alike, began to take notice with the men in the crowd longing for more and the women staring daggers. Thankfully, the game was nearly over and the Nationals were three runs ahead. With the top of the ninth inning set to begin, Katherine was elated by the score and, with only three outs to go for the Cubs, was positive that her team would win. Her always competitive nature was at its zenith in situations like these and, with her confidence sky-high and a fair bit of alcohol in her system, Katherine Wray was hubris personified.

"There's nothing left now for y'all but the crying," she jibed at the Cubs fans sitting in front of her, "and ladies . . . I'd pack some of those hotdogs for the flight home if I were you . . . it may make the spanking your team took here tonight easier to swallow."

"I'd sure like to give her a spanking," Cherie Owen thought to herself as she felt her blood starting to boil.

"And JD honey," Katherine continued emphasizing her already sultry southern voice, "thanks again for the ball . . . by the look on your wife's face over there I'd say you best lookout for the two you have left or she'll have them in a jar on her nightstand."

Bursting into laughter at what she believed to be the height of wit, Katherine turned her attention back to the game.

"Come on Nats, let's close this thing out and send these losers packing," she arrogantly cheered - making sure that Cherie, JD, Gladys and their friends knew she was speaking about them as well as their team.

But it appeared that the Nationals were heeding neither her call nor the raucous support of the team's tens of thousands of other supporters urging them on. After striking out the first Cubs batter the Nats pitcher had, in succession, hit a man with a pitch, allowed a bloop single to fall softly into the outfield and, even after being replaced by the team's ace closer, watched him give up a walk. In very short order, the Cubs had the bases loaded with only one out.

"I think we may be in trouble," Emily Duncan exclaimed, giving voice to a concern shared by many at the stadium.

"Put a sock in it Emily," Katherine chided her friend, "only losers talk that way."

"Strike three, you're out," shouted the umpire apparently affirming Katherine's rebuke of her friend.

"What did I tell you," Katherine gloated, "another Cub bites the dust. One more out and we're off to play the Dodgers."

And so it was, that with two outs and bases loaded in the top of the ninth inning that Chicago Cubs slugger Anthony Rizzo stepped to the plate. With their team's best hitter in a clutch spot, Cherie and JD Owen, along with and the rest of their friends, were going wild cheering on their team, a fact that only pushed Katherine Wray to jeer at the Cubs star even more loudly.

"This guy's a bum," she shouted, "strike him out!"

After Rizzo swung and missed on the first two pitches, it looked as though that might well be his fate. But then things began to change. Two balls followed the first two strikes before Rizzo fought off some good pitches with foul tips until, finally, the count was full and tensions were high. The Nationals fans were going crazy hoping for a third strike while the Cubs fans prayed for Rizzo to hit one of his vintage home runs. The crowd collectively held its breath as, winding up for yet another pitch, the Nationals star closer hurled the ball over the plate. With a resounding crack, Anthony Rizzo made contact and - without yet exhaling - the gathered throng watched as the ball soared through the air on a path not at all dissimilar from the one Bryce Harper's homer had followed some three innings earlier.

As Bryce himself raced to catch the mighty shot, JD Owen, again poised with his mitt in hand, prayed that the gods would smile on him twice in one day and permit him to grab another prize - this time for the smiling Gladys.

Time practically stood still as, while JD and his row of fans and Katherine and hers, craned to see where the ball would land, the gods did smile on JD Owen. Although Bryce Harper made a herculean leap to grab it, Anthony Rizzo's hit cleared the wall and landed squarely in JD's glove, giving the Cubs a one run lead and silencing the Nationals' fans - including a gob-smacked and angry Katherine Wray. The Cubs' fans on the other hand, most notably the mother-in-law of the man who had just caught the ball, went wild with happiness.

No sooner had the ball that put the Cubs ahead dropped cleanly into JD's glove, than had a beaming Gladys, lucky pennant in hand, thrown her arms ecstatically and with unrestrained glee skyward. Unfortunately for Katherine, who was standing directly behind the nonagenarian super fan - still shocked by and angry at her team's failing - when Gladys began to celebrate, the long wooden stick in her hand, with its small Cub's pennant at the top, managed, unbeknownst to anyone, to find its way up inside Katherine's short blue pleated skirt. Worse yet for Mrs. Wray, as the aged Gladys hopped excitedly in her chair that same wooden stick somehow unhooked the fastener that held her tiny wrap-around skirt together and, as a delighted Gladys with all her might leaned far forward to hug JD, Katherine's short, pleated, Nats blue skirt was peeled from her fantastic ass and went floating harmlessly from the stands onto the field.

Within the course of ten seconds the expression on Katherine Wray's beautiful face went from smugness to dejection and, as the fans surrounding her gasped almost in unison, complete befuddlement. In the instant before she processed exactly what had transpired, an avalanche of thoughts crashed down upon her usually facile mind. Why was everyone suddenly staring at her, and pointing? And why did she suddenly feel a slight breeze on her bottom? But then, as the chorus of laughter began, Katherine Williams Wray, who had for the entirety of the game reigned over this section of the crowd like an imperious queen, realized that she now stood before them in only her Nats hat, #Natitude t-shirt, 4" fire-engine red high heels and a very tiny thong! And what a thong it was! Feeling naughty one night when it became clear the Nationals would make the post-season, Katherine had gone to the team's official website and ordered herself a diaphanous red thong with the Nationals' trademark "curly W" embroidered squarely in the front.

Instinctively reaching to cover the prize that was her now there-for-all-to-see, spectacular, be-thonged ass, Katherine screamed into the growing chorus of laughter, "my skirt, what happened to my skirt."

Reveling in the humiliation of the formerly haughty housewife before them, the likes of Cherie Owen and just about every other woman present -- including Rachel, Emily and Rebecca -- were doubled over in hysterics. JD Owen and his friends in the meantime -- as well as every other male within eyeshot -- were channeling the arousal they now felt into a memory they'd hope to have forever. Although Katherine should have run as fast as her towering heels would carry her, she instead decided to make the wretched woman who had done this pay a price for her transgression.

"You . . . you old crone . . . you did this to me," Katherine railed at Gladys while drawing back her arm in what appeared an attempt to slap the woman.

"Katherine no," cried Emily Duncan who, in an effort to keep this situation from becoming much worse reached out to grab her arm.

Unfortunately for Katherine, however, although Emily managed to keep the willowy woman for hitting poor Gladys, she also succeeded in grabbing the back of ravishing runner's tight cotton t-shirt which had the two fold effect of knocking Mrs. Wray off balance and, as she fell forward into the row in front of her, relieving her of yet another item of clothing.

As Emily stood dumbfounded holding Katherine's now ruined (and padded) t-shirt in her hand, Mrs. Wray, recovering from her tumble, found herself -- wearing only her red heels, sexy little thong and hat -- standing directly between a seated Cherie and JD Owen.

"JD . . . d- . . . d- . . . darlin'," Katherine stuttered at the smiling Mr. Owen, "p- . . . p- . . . p-lease . . . help . . . cover me!!"

"Oh no you don't you little tease," came the booming voice of Cherie Owen loving how the tables had turned on the blonde stunner and aching to play her advantage, "not this time!"