Date: Sat, 9 Jul 2011 08:58:58 -0700 (PDT)
From: Joe Hunter <hunterjoe45@yahoo.com>
Subject: Baseball Diamond Tails - 1C

All the usual disclaimers apply:

+This story is a work of fiction.  If you think it is real, you have a very
active imagination.

+Do not read this story if you live in an area where it is illegal to do
so.

+Scenes of sexual activity between an adult male and a young boy are
represented.  Do not read further if this offends you.

+Please do not imitate the actions portrayed herein - the author cannot
accept responsibility for any actions promoted by this story.


If you would like to get in touch, please e-mail me at:

			hunterjoe45@yahoo.com

I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Support Nifty!   Joe

____________________________


BASEBALL DIAMOND TAILS - 1C
(copyright 2011, Joe Hunter)

::::::::::::::::::
 Pitcher:  Part C
::::::::::::::::::

On Saturday, tryout day, I parked my truck behind the snack bar at the
field and there was Billy standing near the fence with his skateboard,
dressed in baggy shorts, old T-shirt and red cap.

"Come to help me scout?"  I asked.  He nodded and I handed him my
clipboard.

The usual tryout day crowd of parents and youngsters was on the field
already.  Small kids, younger brothers of the rookie hopefuls, chased balls
or ran around yelling.  Here and there nervous fathers exchanged warm-up
tosses with their sons, or gave last-minute instructions.  I led Billy
through the opening in the fence by the first-base dugout, checked in with
the league president who was setting up a pitching machine near home plate
and then Billy and I went halfway down the third base foul line to find a
comfortable spot on the grass where we could sit with our backs against the
fence.

"Know any of these kids?" I asked in a low voice and he nodded, starting to
point at one of the youngsters warming up.  I brought up a hand to stop
him.  "Don't point," I warned, glancing around.  "There's other coaches
here.  We don't want to tip them off.  Just give me a heads up.  I know
most of the names."

Amid delay and confusion the tryouts eventually got started, beginning with
an outfield drill.  All the new players lined up in center and the league
president launched fly balls at them with the pitching machine.  Each boy
was expected to attempt a catch and then demonstrate arm strength by
throwing to home plate.  Billy kept notes for me in a small neat hand,
occasionally whispering comments about boys he knew.

"This one," he said, nudging me when it was the turn of one young kid.

Out in the field a boy circled awkwardly under his fly ball, dropped it,
and then made a terrible throw, short and wide of home plate.  Billy looked
up at me in dismay.  After a cautious check to be sure no one could
overhear I patted his shoulder and whispered, "That's one of the kids we
want.  I sent him a message to play off.  Unless another coach knows about
him we'll get him in the second or third round."

Billy's mouth twitched, which for him was like a grin, and he wrote
something on the clipboard.  The notes would be handy and I was glad he was
taking things down, but I already had it all in my head.  There wasn't a
kid on that field I hadn't either scouted the year before when they were in
the Coach-Pitch league, or else gotten the scoop on from my spy network of
boys and teachers.  As always, my draft strategy was set well in advance
and some of the best prospects were already assigned to my team as
brothers, cousins, or 'close-friends-in-the-same-car-pool'.  All is fair in
love, war and youth baseball!

The tryouts went for more than two hours and afterwards, when I took Billy
to the truck, I asked, "You want me to drop you off at your house?"

"No one's there," he told me.

"You don't have to go home?"

He shook his head.

"Okay."

We drove to a fast food place where I bought some hamburgers and Billy ate
his serenely, looking around in his interested, but detached way.  I could
tell by his eyes that he was happy.

Back in the truck, once I had started up, I asked, "What do you want to
do?"

He looked down at his knees for a moment, slowly circled his hand on his
thigh and then reached up to rub his shoulder.

"I'll take you home with me," I said.

Billy moved close on the seat and gazed calmly out the window as we drove.
At one point, while we waited at a traffic light, he looked up at me and
said, "I really like you, coach."

"I know you do, Billy Bee."  I paused and then added, "I guess you know I
really like you a lot, too."

He nodded, his face almost expressionless, but all his little signs of
happy contentment were there.

When we came into the house Billy asked if he could have a Coke.  Taking
him to the kitchen, I poured him a small glass and he took a few sips, put
the glass down and then slipped an arm around my waist.  When I hugged his
shoulders he leaned against me, turned and hugged back, lifting his face to
be kissed.  Our lips met, his mouth opening under mine, and while I stroked
his back through the thin cotton T-shirt, Billy's arms tightened around me.
His hips moved against my leg.

Picking him up, I carried the boy to the sofa bed in the living room where
I laid him down.  As I took off his Nikes he pulled up his shirt and
unbuttoned the top of his pants.  Then he stretched out, arms over his
head, and closed his eyes.  The smooth bare skin of his exposed upper body
gleamed in the light from the window.

I removed my own sneakers and socks before settling beside him to stroke
his bare stomach with my palm.  From the smooth hollow under his ribs his
taut belly stretched invitingly, disappearing beneath his boxers.  I slid
my hand under the elastic waistband to stroke the silky warmth of his lower
belly and Billy squirmed a little, squeezing his butt.  The front of his
pants bulged.

Sliding my hand back upward I pushed beneath his loose shirt to stroke his
chest, rubbing the little swells of developing muscle.  My fingertips
brushed the points of his nipples and brought them erect.  I pushed the
folds of the shirt higher and massaged his silky smooth rounded shoulders,
and then slid the shirt up off over his head, dropping it on the floor.
Billy gave a faint sigh and stretched, extending his legs and pointing his
toes.

My hands slid down the full length of Billy's slender body, caressing his
silky stomach and waist, massaging his thighs through the baggy shorts and
then his bare calves.  Finally, I moved back to his waist where I rubbed a
palm back and forth over the bulge in the front of the shorts and eased
down the zipper above it.  Billy lifted his hips as I pushed the loose
shorts down to his knees and slid them off his legs one by one.

The boy's quivering boner had escaped his boxers and now jutted out through
the open fly.  I placed my fingers on the sensitive head and slid them down
over the rigid shaft.  The boy's hips writhed as a throb pulsed in the
slender hardness.

I slid my hand down over the boy's boxers onto his right thigh and pushed
up under the loose cloth.  Billy's firm upper leg was all warm satin and I
stroked up to the swell of his hip and then back along the groin crease to
the base of his thrusting boner, caressing with my fingertips.  Billy
tensed, giving definition to the hard sheath of his stomach and the rounded
muscle of his thigh.

Withdrawing my hand I pushed up under the boxers on the left side to stroke
and rub there as well, and then began tugging the boxers down.  Billy
lifted so I could slid them over his straining boy stick and down off his
hips to his knees.  Then he pulled his legs out one by one and I let the
boxers drop to the floor.

The naked boy stretched out on the bed and when I joined him, taking his
silky warmth into my arms, he hugged around my neck, raising his lips up to
mine.  As we kissed, I stroked his back and cupped his mounded butt.  Billy
made a faint sound, parting his lips, and when the tip of my tongue pushed
into his mouth he opened his eyes wide in surprise and pleasure.  I thrust
in deeper while the boy gripped me tight, grinding his hips against me.

I stroked and rubbed, sliding my hand down the backs of his legs and then
pushing between to caress the silky skin of inner thigh.  Billy wrapped his
upper leg over mine, pulling it up so I could press my fingers on the base
of his tight little nut sac.  I squeezed gently and then slid my fingertips
into the crease of his butt.

When I pressed on his dimpled opening Billy's mouth opened wider under mine
and he squirmed his hips.  I slid my tongue deep into him and the boy
moaned, writhing slowly as my fingertip rubbed up and down his crease,
stroking across the clenched ring.

After a long kiss I turned the boy onto his back and he stretched out,
squeezing to harden his jutting shaft as I began stroking it.  A sudden
contraction pulsed beneath my fingers and a bead of clear fluid appeared at
the tip of the engorged shaft.  Billy squirmed and then, as I rubbed
faster, he lifted his hips, arching his body.

"Don't stop," he pleaded.

I pumped even faster, sliding my fingers over his tip on every stroke and
Billy's hips writhed as he squeezed and tensed.  Drawing his left knee up
he strained it outward, parting his thighs.

"Faster," he urged.

Another pulse throbbed and Billy jerked.  I stroked even harder, feeling
the rigid shaft swell as he tightened his butt.  When he jerked again
Billy's head went back, breaths catching in his throat.  He arched upward,
slender young body quivering in tension.

"Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah..."

Suddenly the boy's hips bucked as powerful contractions in his jutting boy
stick sent a glittering arc of clear liquid shooting from the tip.  More
droplets rolled down over my hand.  Three more spasms jerked the boy and
then, with a soft moan, he sank onto the bed, bringing one hand down from
over his head to stroke my shoulder.  Then he rolled his body against mine
and hugged.

"Billy Bee, Billy Bee, Billy Bee," I crooned softly as I held and stroked
him.

He lifted his face to mine and I kissed his closed eyes, the tip of his
little nose and then his mouth.  Pressing sweetly, he parted his lips for a
long deep kiss and then tucked his head down into my shoulder while I
circled a palm on his smooth young body.

"Feel good?" I whispered and he nodded.  My hand slid from his rounded
shoulder, down his silky flank to his taut waist, around the glossy curve
of hip and butt and then up his back.  Billy wound one leg over mine,
pulled a knee up and wiggled close.  He was still rigidly hard and when he
squirmed I felt his stiff branch pressing on my hip.

"More," he pleaded, hugging tightly.

"You sure?"  I asked softly.

The response was a vigorous nod.  "And do more," he whispered.

I stroked the boy's thigh, sliding my hand up to give his firm butt a
gentle squeeze and Billy squirmed, nodding again.  "Uh-huh," he breathed.

When the edge of my palm moved into his crease Billie hitched his leg up
even higher on my hip.  I pressed the sensitive spot at the base of his
tight nut sac before sliding up into the cleft and then, as my knuckle
passed over his opening, Billy writhed a little.  I moved my finger around
the rim with gentle pressure.

"Sometimes it aches," Billy whispered, arms tightening around me.

My finger stopped moving, "Where?"

"Inside," he whispered.  "Inside me."

"You want me to rub inside?"  I whispered back.

He nodded.

"OK.  Wait a sec..."

Billy lifted his head to watch as I let go of him to reach under the bed.
There was a bottle of Hawaiian Tropic there I used for tanning and other
things.  I grabbed it and rolled back, taking Billy into my arms again.  He
pulled his leg back up over my hip, snuggling close while I squirted
coconut scented lotion on my fingers and then pushed them up into his
crease.  My forefinger rubbed around his pucker, feeling the little ring
tighten in reflex.

"Uh-huh" Billy whispered.

My slippery finger pressed on the ring and when the tip slid in Billy's
arms tightened around me.

"Okay?"  I asked softly.

He nodded.

Very slowly I moved my fingertip in and out of the ring, spreading the
lubricant around while Billy hugged me and hitched his knee up higher.

"More," he whispered, pushing his butt against my probing fingertip.  I
felt his ring loosen and my finger slid smoothly up into his body.  Billy
made a soft mewing sound, wiggling a little, and pressed his head against
my shoulder.

Very slowly I moved my finger in his hot cavity, feeling the tiny lump at
the base of his rigid boy shaft.  I massaged, sliding back and forth, and
Billy squirmed again.

"More," he whispered.

Wiggling my finger I tried to push up as far as I could and Billy moaned,
squirming and hugging.  He lifted his face to mine seeking my lips and as
my tongue thrust into his mouth I slid a second finger up into his body.
The boy moaned softly again and slid his hitched up foot on my leg.

Slowly I moved my two fingers in and out, sliding them through his ring,
pushing up on every stroke to penetrate as deeply as possible.  Breaking
our kiss, Billy pressed his face into my shoulder and thrust his hips in
rhythm with my sliding fingers, shuddering in ecstasy.  Then, when at last
I let my fingers slide completely out, he hugged against me shaking his
head.  "Don't stop."  He pleaded.

I stroked his silky shoulder.  "Wait."

Rolling to my back I pulled Billy with me and held him face up, sprawled on
top of me.  He pulled up his left knee, spreading his thighs to open his
butt and after squirting out more Hawaiian Tropic I reached under his leg
to slide first one, and then a second finger up into him, using gentle
pressure so the ring would stretch.

With another squeeze of the lotion bottle I slicked Billy's jutting boner
and began pumping it with my right hand.  The rigid shaft throbbed as my
fist slid up and down and Billy stretched his head back over my shoulder.
He kept both arms down at his side, resting his right hand on my waist
where hr made little stroking motions with it over my shirt.

The fingers of my left hand twisted deep in Billy's hot sweetness as I
pumped with my fist, thumb and forefinger slipping over the helmeted tip on
each upward stroke.  Billy pulled his right knee up to match his left and
strained his thighs apart so I could push my fingers even deeper into his
body.  His hips thrust with my rhythm and he arched his head back.  With
His right hand he pulled up the edge of my shirt so he could stroke the
bare skin of my waist.

I kept my fist moving in a slow steady rhythm while Billy moaned, head
turning from side to side as he strained to get his thighs farther apart.
His right hand slipped under the edge of my pants.

I felt the first rapid pulsations in his shaft and increased the speed of
my stroke.  Thrusting with his hips Billy squirmed and twisted, lifting his
bent left leg up and outward.

"Uhhh..." he panted.  "Faster..."

My penetration had opened him completely and I slipped a third finger up
through the gaping ring.  Billy groaned and thrust his hand far down
beneath my pants.  I sucked in my stomach so he could slide his palm back
and forth.

Another pulse throbbed in his straining shaft, sending drops of slippery
liquid running over my fist.  I stroked harder, squeezing gently each time,
and Billy grabbed his left knee pulling it out as he tried to open himself
to my wiggling fingers.  His other hand groped beneath my pants, his little
fingertips exploring and stroking the bulge in my groin.

"Harder," he begged, head arching back over my shoulder.  I squeezed him,
rubbing as fast as I could and felt his sender body tense as he struggled
to hold back.

"Uhhh..."

Suddenly he was gripping me through the cloth of my boxers and thrusting
his hips against my pounding fist.  I pushed my fingers up into his body
and the boy moaned in passion, arching into quivering tension.  He hung for
a moment, holding his breath, my fingers twisting deep inside him, and then
a powerful contraction throbbed in his loins, bucking his hips.

With a series of rapid pulses that I could feel around my penetrating
fingers, Billy's rigid boy pole jerked in my fist.  An arc of crystal clear
droplets shot from the tip with more dribbling out to run down over my
hand.  I kept pumping, prolonging Billy into a second and then a third set
of heaving spasms while he twisted and writhed, making little gasping
cries, "Ah...  Ah...  Ah... Ah..."

Finally, after a last set of throbs, his body began to relax.  I slowed my
stroking as his tip became sensitive, letting my hand slide away to caress
his taut waist.  The boy's knees sagged apart and when I eased my fingers
out of his rectum he drew his hand from under my pants.  Slowly he
straightened his legs and then turned over so he could sprawl on me, arms
hugging around my neck

I rolled onto my side taking Billy with me and held his slender, naked body
in my arms, stroking him while I whispered over and over, "Billy Bee, Billy
Bee, Billy Bee, Billy Bee..."

Cuddling against me the boy buried his head on my shoulder and, keeping his
arms around my neck, stroked my back and my shoulders.  Finally, after a
long deep kiss he whispered, "Again."

"Are you sure?"  I asked.

Billy nodded vigorously.  "In me," he whispered.  "Again.  In me, more."

"Rest first," I whispered.

He shook his head.  "More."

I stroked his silky back.

"When do you have to be home?"

"Ten."

"What about supper?"

"No one's home..." He pressed his face into my shoulder and whispered
something I didn't catch.

"What?"  I asked him.

The boy hugged tight and squirmed on my hip.  "Stay with you," he pleaded.

"Are you sure?"  I asked again.

He lifted his lips to mine, kissed me and then thrust a hand between our
bodies to fumble for the bulge in my pants.  When he found it he closed his
little fingers on my shaft, rubbing through the cloth.

I hugged the boy, stroking thigh and glossy butt, cupping and squeezing
while he continued to rub me.  After a while he removed his hand and put it
back around my neck.

"Finger me," he whispered.

I slipped my hand into his crease and he lifted his leg to open himself.
My finger slid deep into the warm, moist softness of his body and the boy
sighed, snuggling closer.

"In and out," he whispered.

I slipped my finger in and out of his rectum in a slow rhythm.  He hugged
around my neck and thrust his hips very slightly in time with my movements.
When the tight ring relaxed and opened I slid a second finger up into him,
pressing both fingertips on his nub and Billy gave a soft gasp, thrusting
harder.

"Uhhh..., Uhhhhh..."

I strained my fingers upward, deepening my penetration and Billy moved his
hips faster, tightening his grip on me.  Probing and twisting, sliding in
and out, my fingers rubbed the tiny root of the boy's rigid branch and
Billy groaned softly, pressing his head into my shoulder.  His hips thrust
even faster.  Then, in sudden spasm, his arms locked around me.  Rapid
pulsations throbbed in his loins, squeezing my fingers, and with jerk after
jerk the boy's hips bucked.  Billy arched, every muscle in his smooth lean
body straining, and then with a final quivering buck he relaxed, panting,
his lips seeking mine for a kiss.

Slowly I withdrew my two fingers from his butt and stroked his rounded
thigh.  Billy's tongue slid quickly in and out of my mouth.  He writhed,
snuggling close and put his head back on my shoulder.

"Nice?" I whispered, petting and caressed him.

"Do more," he begged and squirmed his hips against me.  "In me, more."

"Ok."  I held him a while longer, and then said, "let's get something."

I got up and went to the kitchen with Billy padding after me.  First I
poured Cokes for us, figuring that he must be getting thirsty because I
was.  He finished before I did and stood holding the glass, his graceful,
nude body gleaming in the light.  Billy looked down at his stiffy, which
was jutting outward in a slight upward curve and made it jump a few times
by squeezing his butt.  Then he stroked himself before putting his glass on
the counter.

"I'm going to be good this year," he said in his calm, quiet way.

"Damn right," I said, nodding.  "I'm sure of it."

He came over and leaned against me, slipping an arm around my waist.

I was searching in various drawers and finally I found what I was looking
for.  It was a sawed off broom handle I sometimes used as a doorstop.  The
smooth end was rounded and clean, and when I gave it to Billy to hold he
examined it curiously.  Putting my arm around him I walked him to the
bathroom where I got a tube of KY, and then with the boy hugging against my
side, I led him back to the living room.

I intended to have Billy stretch out again on the bed, but he stopped me.
Taking the KY from my hand he placed it on the bed and then pressed his
naked body to mine in a hug.  When I hugged him back he raised his lips to
be kissed, opening his mouth to admit my tongue and grinding his hips on my
thigh.

Billy's arms slipped down around my waist, tugging my cotton shirt out of
my pants.  After a long deep kiss he pulled the shirt up and off over my
head brushing fingertips across my chest as he did so.  I flexed for him
and he rubbed the swells of muscle, slid his hand down over the defined
ridges of my stomach and then tugged at the edge of my pants.  With my help
he got the waist unfastened, pulled down the zipper and then, after he had
pushed the pants below my knees, I stepped out of them.  The tight boxer
shorts I was wearing underneath were tented out by my erection.  Billy
tugged and I slipped the shorts down, stepped out of them and stood naked
before him.

Billy stared at my jutting rod and then took it in his hand.  The touch of
his cool little fingers sent a thrill racing through me and when he
squeezed gently I could not prevent the tiny pulse that made the shaft
jump.  Reaching for my hand Billy placed it on his own rigid boner and I
while rubbed it he stroked around my groin.

"No hair," he whispered, looking up at me.

"I shave it off," I told him.  He nodded and then tugged me toward the bed
where we stretched out together.

I gathered Billy into my arms and the exquisite sensation of his silky
nakedness pressed on my own sent a shudder of ecstasy quivering through my
body.  Snuggling close, Billy drew a knee up over my hip and then kissed me
deeply, writhing and twisting so our naked bodies slid over each other.

"This is nice," he sighed when our lips parted at last.

"Billy B," I whispered, stroking him.  "You're the best kid in the world,
Billy B."  He hugged tightly and let me hold him like that for a time, our
hearts beating against each other.  Then he was tugging at my hand, pulling
it down onto his firm butt.

"Now," he whispered.

I reached for the KY, squeezed out a glob and pressed my slippery fingers
into Billy's crease.  He lifted his thigh to open himself and I smeared
lubrication around his puckered opening before inserting a fingertip to get
more lube inside.

When I was sure he was slick enough, I coated the blunt end of the broom
handle with KY and passed it between the boy's butt cheeks, pushing up
against his tight hole.  As the thick round tip slid into his ring Billy
caught his breath and tensed, arching a little.  I waited for him to relax
and then pushed again, inserting the wooden handle into Billy's yielding
body.

The boy cried out softly as the shaft impaled him.  He tensed again,
writhing a little, adjusting to the fullness, and then nodded.  I started
to move the stick, withdrawing it an inch, intending to slide it back and
forth through his ring.

Instantly Billy reached back to hold the wooden handle in place.  "Don't
take it out," he whispered.

"I won't."

Reassured, he put his arm back around my neck and buried his face on my
shoulder.  As I slid the thick wooden shaft in and out he pulled his knee
up higher on my hip.  "More," he whispered.

I let the handle slip farther into Billy's stretched opening and he moved
his hips with the thrusts, pushing back to get deeper penetration.  "In
more," he begged.

I let the handle slip up as far as the boy wanted and Billy moaned softly,
stretching his head back.  I felt a small warm trickle against my groin.

"I peed a little," Billy whispered.

"It's all right," I said, hugging and stroking to give him reassurance.

The boy squirmed on the impaling stick, shifting its rounded end deep
within his loins.  "Don't take it out," he begged.

"I won't."

Holding the boy I slid the thick wooden handle back and forth through his
ring and as his hips pumped in rhythm I felt his boy stick lift once more
into stiff rigidity.  A little tremor quivered through him and he tightened
his arms around me whispering, "Don't stop."

"I won't," I told him.

Very carefully, without removing the wooden shaft, I helped the boy grab
his knees and roll onto his back, butt angled upward.  Billy reached under
his left thigh to feel were the broom handle jutted from his hole.  Then,
shifting his grip, he pushed on the thick handle, throwing his head back to
arch himself as it slipped further up into his body.  A few clear drops of
fluid rolled off the tip of his jutting little rod, trickling down the
slick, straining shaft.  The boy twisted slowly, whispering, "In me...  In
me..."

I stretched out next to him, facing in the opposite direction, my head at
his hips.  Sliding my left hand under his upraised left thigh I took hold
of the wooden handle and began to move it in and out.  Billy withdrew his
hand, stretched it over his head and explored my body where he could reach
it, stroking up the insides of my thighs to my groin.  His fingertips
pressed on my nut sac, groped up and slid onto my quivering erection.  I
squeezed to swell it for him, and the searching fingers reached the tip,
spreading the slippery moisture they found there as my shaft gave a quick
throb.

With a little moan, Billy rubbed his fist up and down on me while I kept
moving the broom handle in an out through his ring.  The boy shuddered,
arching, as another drop of clear fluid sparkled at the tip of his rigid
boy pole.  Using my free hand I squeezed out more KY for lubrication and
closed my fist over the hard, straining shaft.  Holding the broom handle up
in the boy I began to pump his throbbing member and he groaned, writhing
his hips to impale himself further.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop..."

I pumped harder and Billy's stiff boner jerked sending drops of clear
slippery warmth running over my fist.  Groaning, Billy struggled to turn
his head far enough to mouth the head of my jutting rod and I shifted over
so his lips could slide down the end of my shaft.  A thrill shot through me
as I felt the boy tongue me and a gush of liquid ran from my slit.  Billy's
small fist was still rubbing my shaft and only by squeezing with all my
might was I able to hold back.

I pumped harder on his rigid boy stick and Billy strained his thighs apart,
feet twisting as he mounted to climax.  Squirming around the fullness
penetrating him he continued sliding his fist on my throbbing shaft,
tonguing and sucking at the tip.

Suddenly, all the boy's movements stopped and he arched up, pulling his
head back, every muscle in his lovely slender body defined in tension.  He
gave a cry of ecstasy, "Ahhhhh...Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh......."  Then his feet
kicked and powerful contractions jerked his hard boner in a train of rapid
pulsing that went on and on as Billy heaved in spasm.  Glittering arcs of
fluid shot out of his tip

A huge tide I could not hold back washed through me and I exploded all over
the boy, sending thick ropes of creamy semen splattering onto his chest and
belly.  My release was over all too soon, but Billy's feet were still
kicking, his hips bucking.  I wiggled the thick handle in him and he
gasped, "Uh...  More...  Harder...  Harder...  Uh...  Uh..."

He pushed desperately against the thrusting stake and when it slid in
farther Billy threw his head back with a moaning cry of pain and delight.
His jutting little shaft throbbed in a single hard contraction and then
pulsed rapidly as his feet jerked again.

Reaching up, the boy pulled his knees down against his sides and arched his
head back over the end of the bed.  Strands of my semen glistened on his
body.

"Don't stop," he pleaded desperately.  "Don't stop."

With his thighs strained apart and butt twisted upwards, the impaling shaft
of the broom handle jutting from his stretched opening was completely
exposed.  I slid the thick shaft in an out, twisting and wiggling it, while
the boy writhed in passion, mouth open, his eyes wide and staring.

With a sudden jerk his rigid shaft jerked again, quick hard pulsations that
made Billy heave and buck.  Then, gradually, the spasm eased and he
collapsed panting onto the bed.  A dribble of urine ran from his tip.
"Don't stop," Billy moaned, clutching his knees.  "Don't stop..."

I kept moving the wooden shaft using slow deliberate strokes and with each
deep penetration Billy groaned with pleasure.  Over and over the wooden
handle slid through his gaping opening until the boy was drifting in a
trance of ecstasy, the tension slowly building.

Suddenly he arched, straining to pull his knees out and down.  With a firm
thrust I put the broom handle deep into him and he cried out, writhing,
throbs jerking him.  I rubbed his stiffy, pumping as fast as I could, and
contraction after contraction pulsed under my fist, the spasms dry this
time.  Billy kicked his feet and arched back over the bed, his mouth open
in a silent scream of pleasure.  Then, after one last heave, his body
relaxed and his eyes closed.

Slowly I withdrew the wooden handle.  The boy squirmed, reaching down to
stop me.  "No-o-o-o-o-o," he whispered.  "More..."

"You need to rest now," I told him, pushing his hand away.

He shook his head and put his hand over mine to hold the wooden handle up
in his body, pleading, "Don't take it out."

"All right.  I won't."

Very slowly and very gently I slid Billy back down away from the end of the
bed, and rolled him on his side while he held the broom handle in place.
Then I stretched out beside him and took his slender body in my arms,
hugging tenderly.  I put my hand on the wooden handle and when the boy felt
me take it he released his grip and wound both arms around me.  With his
eyes closed he lifted his face to mine and our lips came together.  His
mouth parted and my tongue slid deep inside him.  He hugged me tightly and
drew his leg up over my hip.  I pressed his smooth, silky nakedness close
to mine and stroked him with my palms.  At last, our lips parted.  I kissed
his nose, his eyes, and his hair, breathing in his wonderful boy scent, and
he snuggled close burying his face against my shoulder.

"Billy Dee, Billy B., Billy B.," I whispered, stroking and cuddling him.

He hugged back, and I heard him whisper something but could not make out
the words.  "What?"  I asked him very softly.

But he shook his head, and even when I coaxed he would not tell me.

I kissed his shoulder.  "It's all right.  I love you, too."

Billy sighed deeply and hugged while I stroked and cuddled him for a while.
At last he wiggled against me and whispered, "More."

"Yes," I told him softly, "Later.  First I'm going to get your supper."

He nodded and pressed hard against my hip, running his foot slowly over my
leg.

I moved the broom handle in him.  "This has got to come out now."

He shook his head.

"We have to," I whispered.  "You have to have supper."

After thinking about this, Billy nodded.

Gently and slowly I let the thick wooden shaft glide out of Billy's rectum.
As the blunt tip emerged I examined it closely.  There was only the tiniest
trace of blood and mucus on the tip.  I leaned over and examined his gaping
opening.  The skin around it was slightly puffy, but there was no sign of
any bleeding or tearing.

I gently massaged Billy's hard rounded butt, stroking until the muscular
ring closed tight and then, after kissing him, I got up.

Pulling on my pants I left the other clothes on the floor and went to the
kitchen with Billy following close behind wearing only his tie-dye shirt.
The loose shirt came nearly to his knees, its billowing folds draping
around his slender, supple body.  He arranged the big loose neck so one
shoulder was exposed.

As I worked to make a simple meal he remained very close, always keeping a
hand on my arm, elbow or waist, leaning slightly against me as if afraid to
lose physical contact.  While we were waiting for the soup to heat on the
stove I gave him a quick hug and asked, "Are you sure you're okay, Billy?"

He reached down, stroked his butt and than looked up and nodded.

"You sure?"  I asked again.

"Uh-huh."  He gave me the same grave look I always got when I asked him
that same question on the pitchers' mound during games.

I caressed the naked shoulder revealed by his shirt.  "You know," I
remarked, "I really like this shirt."

He nodded.  "I dyed it myself."

"Yeah, you told me.  In Boy Scouts."

Billy glanced down at the shirt, reached behind, and gathered its loose
folds to stretch the thin cloth over his front, outlining his slender naked
body and the jut of his rigid boyhood.  He looked at me with a tilt to his
head and a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth.

I smiled at him.  "That's neat."

"I like to do that," he said in his quiet, calm way.  He paused for a
second, then added, "I like to wear my shirt like this in my house when no
one's home."

This was a long sentence for Billy.  I spoke very carefully, not wanting to
break the spell.

"What do you do there?"

"Pretend stuff."  Billy leaned on the countertop, his arm around me.  "Want
me to show you?"

"Yes," I told him solemnly.

[ To Be Concluded in Part D.  Then look for a new story - The Catcher ]

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Hope you enjoyed it!  This baseball series has a 'long' short story for
every position.  Look for a new chapter or two each month.

Thanks for taking the time to read my story and if you'd like to comment,
my e-mail address is:

			hunterjoe45@yahoo.com

I will try to answer all serious mailings.  My on-line access is very
limited.  Rants and ravings will not get consideration.

To all you readers who enjoy these stories, please support Nifty with
contributions and keep the Archive online.  Check the Nifty home page for
ways to make contributions.  Without this Archive those of us who write for
you will lose a wonderful resource to get our stories out.

You can find links to all my other stories on Nifty under my name, Joe
Hunter, listed under the J's (for Joe) in the prolific authors list.  I
hope you will read and enjoy!

All the Best.  Joe