Handsome Ch. 05byParis Waterman©
Dear Reader, I believe this is my 300th submission to Literotica, a milestone I never thought I'd come close too. I hope you enjoy it, although its not a particularly outstanding piece, just a part of a larger work with the better portions yet to come. Happy Reading, PW
I returned home in time for our school's preseason baseball tournament. I didn't play in the first game, but started the next when Billy Jennings sprained his ankle so badly he couldn't even walk.
We were playing Totowa, a school from the southern part of our state, and they had a lanky lefthander pitching for them, who threw smoke, as they like to say about a guy with a great fastball.
I came to bat in the first, with Allen Temple on base with a walk. The Totowa lefty threw me nothing but smoke. The first two pitches were balls and gave me the opportunity to time him. The next pitch I swung at and missed, but not by much. Still, he was faster than anyone I had ever faced before. He came back with yet another fastball on the next pitch. Once again, I swung late, but managed to make contact, and drove the ball into right field for a base hit. Allen raced to third, and I held up at first.
Lou Clemons, our catcher, usually welded a heavy bat, often driving the ball to the deepest parts of the ballpark. When he struck out on three straight fastballs and went back to the dugout shaking his head, I knew he wouldn't get anything off the lanky lefty. He had a habit of quitting on himself whenever he did poorly at the plate.
Still he was a great defensive catcher, and you never knew when he would throw out a runner at second, or make the tag at home plate.
Dennis Woods was our next batter. The pitcher had found his groove, and struck Dennis out on four pitches. That left it up to Craig McGregor, a left-handed first baseman. He was a good fastball hitter, and ripped the first pitch foul down the first base line.
I was surprised at his being able to pull the ball off the lefty fireballer. He missed the next pitch by at least six inches, and I found myself holding my breath as the Lefty went into his windup looking to end the first inning threat against him.
Later, Coach Raymond used what happened next to illustrate proper pitching technique to our pitching staff. The lanky lefty came in with another fastball and Craig managed to pull it just to the right of their first baseman, who knocked the ball down. Craig hustled down the line. The ball dribbled a few feet from the first baseman's glove, forcing him to go after it. He got to the ball in plenty of time, but the lefthander had not thought to cover first base, and Allen Temple raced home with the first run of the game, while I ran to third.
Now we had men on first and third with two out, and the lefthander was fuming at himself for his failure to cover first base. He walked Tickie Smith on four straight pitches and loaded the bases. The Totowa coach walked out to the mound and talked to the pitcher.
Evidently the discussion worked, for he got our Pitcher, Leo Scarpa on a towering pop-up to short, and the inning was over.
I should mention that our games usually went seven innings, not the usual nine, of course there was always the chance of extra innings, but most of our games lasted seven. Anyway, Scarpa held them scoreless for six innings, but tired in the seventh and gave up a lead off triple to their right fielder who wound up scoring when the next batter singled up the middle to tie the game.
We went into the tenth inning that way.
No one seemed to be able to get on base, as batter after batter made out on easy plays, mostly grounders to the middle infielders, or by striking out.
When I looked at the box score in the paper the next day, I noticed that the lefthander had struck out seventeen of us.
Scarpa hadn't done so badly either, striking out thirteen of them. But they took the lead in the top of the tenth on a double by their catcher, and two outs later, Tickie tried a diving catch but failed to hold onto the ball and the runner scored. The batter was thrown out at third, and we got out of the inning without further damage.
As luck would have it, I led off the bottom of the inning. The lefty, a very durable pitcher to say the least, was still pitching for them. He was tired, or so I figured, and so I took a rip at the first pitch. I hit it right on the sweet spot of the bat, lining it right at the tall lefthander. It hit him on the ankle, but caromed over to the first baseman and I was an easy out. But the lefty was limping around on the mound, and his coach took him out and brought in a relief pitcher.
Lou Clemons and Dennis Woods followed me to the plate.
I had hopes that we would reach the new pitcher and score the winning runs off him. But he was a curveball specialist, and after facing nothing but smoke all afternoon, both Lou and Dennis could only manage a pop up and a grounder to short in that order, and the game was over.
We lost, 2 — 1 and I was feeling pretty low until Coach Raymond took me aside, and said, "Aubrey, you had a pretty good day for us."
"Thanks, Coach, but we lost."
"Yes, we lost," he said and then smiled down at me. "Did you know the lefty you faced is the top rated pitching prospect in the country?"
"Um, no sir."
"He's probably going to turn pro after this season."
"You reached him twice today, Aubrey. Getting a scratch single and lining the ball off his leg. That's a pretty dang good day for any ball player."
Flushing, I replied, "Thanks, Coach. I appreciate the nice words, but we lost and all."
"It's not about winning or losing, son. It's how you conduct yourself. Some games are won or lost by deserving teams. Some aren't. A dang pebble jumps in front of a grounder and the ball scoots over the infielder's glove. Or, maybe the hitter swings late and the ball goes through a hole because the defense is playing the hitter to hit the other way."
I realized he was referring to my first hit, and put my head down.
"Those are the breaks, Aubrey. Over time, they usually average out; at least I've found it so. Anyway, as of now, you're my second baseman. And, for the time being, you'll hit second in the order."
I went home walking on air.
And the next day, behind the sterling pitching of Johnny Wisnewski, we won easily over a team from Redwood County, 8 — 2.
That was good enough to place second in the tournament and get the team's picture in the local newspaper.
Oh, by the way, I went 2 for 4, and scored twice.
We had three days before our next game, and something strange happened to me the second night. I had what's called a growth spurt.
I woke up hurting everywhere for a while. After making certain that I wasn't sick, my mother took a tape measure and held it against me and the door frame. We had been doing this ever since I can remember. We were both surprised to see that I had grown four inches overnight!
Even more important to me, was the fact that my voice had gotten lower. I was a genuine baritone ... at least most of the time. For my voice also cracked occasionally in mid-word, or from word to word. That was embarrassing, but Mom told me that it wouldn't last too long, and that satisfied me.
We went shopping for new clothes, and when Aunt Nicole heard about the sudden growth, she had a set of weights delivered to my house. I began using them immediately, and have Aunt Nicole to thank for the nicely muscled body I possess today. Ever since receiving the weights I've maintained a weekly regimen of working out. Of course, these days I do it at the local gym, but back then I used the weights and a weight bench that I set up in my bedroom.
Oh, I should also mention that my penis also benefited from the sudden growth spurt and I had a series of spontaneous erections occur that proved embarrassing to both my mother and I.
I called Aunt Nicole about it and learned that the erections and the nocturnal emissions that followed late at night were a natural consequence and further signs of my sexual maturity.
Three days later, on seeing me bulging out of my shorts, my mother overcame her embarrassment and found the strength to mention that my father had had a ten inch penis, and had told her he recalled it growing some when he was 14 and even more at 16. I measured my penis and found it to be eight and one quarter inches when erect.
I liked that. Like father, like son. Yeah, that was cool news. I was more thrilled with the news that I was kind of following in my father's footsteps than with the fact that he had had a ten inch dick, and that I might be getting even longer than I already was at 8 inches.
My mother also mentioned that girls developed at this age too, becoming curvier as their breasts developed. Of course, I had already noticed this phenomenon on my own.
So, there I was, four inches taller, at six feet even, trying to put my old uniform on for the next game. My teammates hooted and hollered as I stood there turning this way and that, trying to stretch the tightest fitting clothing that I had ever tried on. The problem was that there was nothing in my new size available to me. I was in the starting lineup, and would have to take the field looking like Beefo the Clown.
The Coach took me aside and told me to make the best of it, and that he would personally see to it that I had a uniform that fit before the next day. And so, biting my lip, I trotted out to second base to start the game. I managed to get through the top of the first without incident.
But as I jogged toward the dugout, several of the girls from our high school took note. To make matters worse, my body picked that moment to develop a spontaneous erection. Even my teammates noticed it, and of course every girl, or should I say, every female at the ball park took note, and a murmuring began that grew louder as I drew closer to the spectators in the bleachers alongside third base.
In that moment, my life changed, I didn't know it then, I was too embarrassed with the skin tight uniform and my all but too noticeable erection. But the girls, and even several of the women in the stands set their sights on me, and I became their prey.
The fact of the matter is that I made two errors that day; and went hitless to boot. But the team scored ten runs. We won the game going away, no thanks to me. The coach gave me a pat on the backside and assured me I'd have a proper fitting uniform the following day.
After I'd showered and dressed ... in clothing that fit me. I wandered out to the tent that was set up with soft drinks and snacks for the players by some of the parents. I was with our shortstop, Will Patagonis, and left fielder, Arthur Spears; chatting and munching on a sandwich, when a few of the girls from my freshman class wandered into the tent and approached us.
"Hi, Aubrey," Chelsea Bush gushed a second before the other two, Joy Tempter, (Allen's sister) and Mora Willingly, offered similar greetings.
I noticed that they hadn't greeted Will or Arthur at all, just acknowledged them with curt, practiced nods.
Using the good manners instilled in me by my mother, I offered the girls a drink of soda, which they graciously accepted.
"Nice," Mora said after taking a sip.
I was thinking the same thing myself, only I wasn't thinking about the drink.
"I don't think I know you," she said, and followed with, "I mean, sure, I've seen you around school and all, but we've never met."
"I'm Aubrey," I told her.
"Oh, I know that," she said like a doo-doo, and the other girls tittered giddily.
One by one, Will and Arthur wandered off, leaving me alone with the girls.
"And you must be Joy," I said to the perky brunette with the dazzling smile, and followed my instincts by reaching out and running my fingertips down her forearm.
Her eyes widened in pleased surprise, and I knew that Krista Marie had been right when she'd told me that this was a sensual area that was permissible to touch without being reproached by a woman.
Joy kept the smile on her face, although I discerned a momentary confusion on her part as to who was actually in control.
"What was that you just did?" she asked.
"I touched your arm. Did I offend you?"
"No, do ... do it again!"
I ran my fingers down the length of her arm and felt a slight tremor.
"Joy, what's he doing?" Chelsea asked, full of curiosity. Mora leaned over Chelsea's shoulder to see what was going on.
"He's touching my arm and its ... kinda weird."
"Weird? Touching your arm? Hey, Aubrey, touch my arm. I want to see," Chelsea said.
"Mine too," Mora chimed in. "Mine too."
I obliged them in turn, taking my time about traversing each arm, making certain they were tingling before lifting my fingers away from them.
"Wow!" Mora gasped.
"That's something all right," Chelsea said emphatically.
"Got any other spots I'd like to feel you touch?"
Mora said, and immediately bit her lip on realizing how dumb she must have sounded.
I didn't laugh like the others did. I didn't even crack a smile. Instead, I waited until Chelsea and Joy stopped laughing and then said, "To answer your question, Mora, yes, there are a couple other places I know of."
Joy and Chelsea started giggling, while Mora flushed a bright red.
"I didn't mean those places, girls."
"Oh, yeah," Joy snapped, "we know. You're just like all the other guys, wanting to get into our pants."
"I said I didn't mean those ... erotic places, Joy. I meant it."
The girls exchanged glances with one another. I thought they were about to run away from me.
"So, um, where are these ... other places, Aubrey?" Mora inquired with a pixyish grin.
Surprising the hell out of me.
I looked around, and said, "I can't really show you all here. People would get the wrong idea. We'd have to go someplace more private."
"We could go to my house," Joy said. "My mother works until six." (It was just 3:15.)
"What about your father?" I asked.
"Oh, he's in England on business."
"Sounds good to me," I said and looked to the other girls.
"I'd love to go, but my Mom's meeting me here in fifteen minutes," Chelsea said, rolling her eyes at the thought of being left behind and missing the fun or whatever was going to happen.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Mora staring at me. But she turned away when I turned towards her.
The next thing I knew we were walking to Joy's house, some six blocks away. I learned that Mora lived two doors down from Joy, and that her mother was "always' home.
Once inside, I made myself comfortable, sitting on the couch in the living room. Joy got us all Cokes and then joined Mora and me on the couch.
Neither of the girls had seemed threatened by the other. This caused me to wonder if they had experimented together before. We talked about school and various personalities, both celebrities and fellow schoolmates.
As we talked, I began gently rubbing my leg along the back of Joy's. She responded by sliding her calf over my shin.
Testing the waters still further, I repeated the action with Mora using my other leg, and was pleased to get the same response from her. My dick began to swell as I thought of the many possibilities before us.
Finishing my Coke with a flourish, I leaned forward, put the can down on the coffee table and placed a hand on their legs just above the knee.
"Whoa!" Mora yelped. "Here he goes, Joy."
"He said he had some places that would make us feel good," Joy replied, not certain if she too should be protesting.
"Yeah, but look where his hands are," Mora said defensively.
"I haven't done anything wrong, have I?" I said innocently, but nonetheless rubbing both their thighs through the flimsy material of their dresses.
"Not yet you haven't. But I see where this is going," Joy said, joining Mora in a mutual protest of my actions. "Aubrey, we're both virgins, and we intend to stay that way!"
I decided to protest. "I don't know what you two are talking about. But," I said, turning to look Joy right in the eye, "I think you need to be kissed."
Her eyes widened as I moved in and lightly brushed her lips with mine. She gasped as I pulled back and stared into her eyes, daring her to say she was offended. When she said nothing, I allowed my eyes to descend to her mouth and slowly, delicately, kissed her again as if we had all the time in the world.
It seemed longer, but was probably only a few seconds before Joy threw herself into the kiss, seeking even more contact. When her mouth opened, I managed to allow the tip of my tongue to touch hers before ending the kiss.
Then I turned and reached for Mora, who had been an eager onlooker. I hugged her to me at first, noting that her breasts had yet to develop, and stared into her eyes as they slowly closed while she closed the distance between us.
We kissed, and my hands grazed over her shoulders and then her neck before pulling away. Her eyes opened, and I smiled at her. She was starting to return the smile when I kissed her again and then again, before turning back to Joy.
Joy was watching and waiting for me. She moved quickly into my embrace, her half opened mouth awaiting the arrival of my tongue. It was a longer kiss, and she was sucking my tongue into her mouth before we finished.
And, as I shifted position to return to Mora, Joy chirped, "He used his tongue, Mora."
It turned out that Mora was adept at using her tongue as well, and as the kiss progressed, I took the opportunity to move my hand up and around her just budding breast.
A long, thin string of saliva clung to our lips as we parted, causing all three of us to break out in nervous laughter. But no one said a word. Joy was impatiently waiting her kiss, and we entered it eagerly, tongues dueling over each other's teeth and gums. She was the first to actually moan, and I moved quickly to grope her breast, eliciting another, longer moan from her.
After the kiss, I hugged of them to me, and began to gently probe for their nipples through the dresses and bras they wore.
"Do you trust me?" I asked as I teased their nipples into an aroused state.
"Trust you in what way?" asked Joy, who chose to ignore my fingers tweaking her stiffening bud.
"That I'm not about to take your virginity."
"I don't know that for certain," she replied.
Mora chimed in with, "Look at what you've already done."
"All right," I said, "If you want me to stop, just say so. I mean either of you; say the word, stop, and I will. You have my word on it."
"Oh, yeah! hey, Mora, we have his word," Joy said sarcastically.
"I haven't heard you say it," I replied, giving her nipple an extra tweak in retaliation.
"Tell me something about yourself that we don't know?" Mora said, as she squirmed against my thigh.
"Okay. I'm not a virgin."
"You're not?" Joy blurted. Obviously this admission came as a surprise to them.
There was a gleam in her eyes as Mora asked, "Who did you do it with?"
"I won't say. But it was more than one, I'll say that."
"Was it someone in our class?" Mora persisted.
"No. In fact, two of them are..." I paused, wanting to be sure that I phrased it just right, and added with a flourish, " ... older women."
Both girls gasped. Neither had expected that answer. They looked at each other, and then Joy said, "How much older?"
"I'm sorry, but I'm not at liberty to say."
"Why not?" Mora asked.
"Would you want me talking about you and what's happened this afternoon?"
"No, of course not, but ... oh!" she replied, finally seeing the light of my reasoning.
Throughout the entire conversation, I had maintained myself by continuing to play with their breasts. Neither girl had yet protested.