Date: Fri, 6 May 2016 07:26:50 -0400 From: Medic nextdoor Subject: Bobbie's Little League Coach 1 Bobbie was my next door neighbor, the child of a single Mom who worked hard but didn't seem to get anywhere, if you know what I mean. Bobbie's Dad was around, if you could call it that. I watched the schedule and it seemed that he had Bobbie on two weekends a month. The reason I know that is that on those weekends, I would usually find Bobbie sitting on his front porch with his head in his hands. You see, his Dad would always have an excuse as to why he couldn't be there. He had to work, he was out of town – Hey, I've never been a parent but I know how life gets in the way of things. But, this is your kid. You have to make time for him. It was spring and Bobbie had tried out and made one of the little league baseball teams. On Saturday morning, I walked out to get the paper to find Bobby in his brand new little league uniform, sitting on the front porch, again, head in hands. It sounded like he was crying. "Hey, slugger," I said as I walked over. "What's up"? He stopped to look up at me. "Hi Uncle Mike," he said with a disappointing twang. "Today is the first day of practice for the Rangers," He said, pointing to his cute jersey with the name blazed across the front. "Dad can't make it this weekend – AGAIN". He sounded angry and disappointed all at once. I sat down next to him and thought for a minute. I wasn't his Uncle, of course, but Bobby had started calling me that at the insistence of his Mom, who told me she thought Bobby deserved a decent role model in his life and that I was tops in that arena. She asked if it was ok that he call me that and I was fine with it. Bobby is a cute kid and he didn't deserve this. The age of 12 is somewhat of a defining age and I didn't want him to miss out on baseball as it was one of my favorite sports when I was younger, as well as today. "Is your Mom home," I asked. He nodded. "Go get her, will ya?" I asked. Bobbie got up and ran into the house and yelled for his Mom. A minute or two later, Sheryl appeared, hair in a towel and looking like she had to be somewhere else. Let's make this clear. I am no model, no god of men – I'm 25, slim but not muscular, kind of boyish – and gay as the day is long. I have hid that last part pretty well from my friends, except one or two close ones. Hi," she smiled. You realized early on that she was embarrassed for her life and certainly for her son. "Bobby was telling me about his problem," I said. "Damn Kenny," she grumbled. "He just doesn't give his own son the time of day". "Well, I was thinking," I said. "I'm free today and I have always been a fan of baseball, so what if I took Bobbie to his first practice?" "I saw Bobbie poke his head around his Mom. "Pllleeeasssee Mom," he whined. "I don't want to miss the first day". "If you're sure it won't mess up your day," she said. "How could such a perfect uniform and beautiful day and talented baseball player ever screw up a day?" I said. His Mom turned to him and said, "Bobbie, I'm sorry I have to work today – you know I would go with you if I could, don't you baby?" Bobbie nodded his head, smiling. "Uncle Mike can take you," she said "He knows about baseball and I would just be a silly girl who couldn't help you hit or catch or anything". "That would be great, Mommy," Bobbie said. His smile was much better now that he knew he wasn't missing baseball. ""Do you need anything from me?" she asked. "Maybe a permission slip to put his health and well being to me in case anything happens," I said. "What would happen?" she asked, looking worried. "Nothing, I'm sure," I assured her. "But, baseballs are sometimes fast and hard and once in a while, they hit players. Nothing serious but it does happen". That made sense to her and quickly went into the house to make that happen. Bobbie and I remained on the porch. "Do you really know a lot about baseball?" Bobbie asked. "Enough to be a red shirt on my college team," I said. He didn't know what a red shirt was but it sounded important so it made his smile bigger. A minute later, she appeared with a handwritten note, signed by her. "This should cover it," she said. "I can't tell you how appreciative I am". "Not a problem," I said. I turned to Bobbie. "Go get your glove and bat and let's go play some baseball," I said. "Whooppee!" he exclaimed and went back inside to get his equipment. A minute later, he returned with his glove, a worn out piece of leather, and no bat. I didn't want to embarrass him about that, so I just pushed him towards my car next door and told Mom we would be back at my place when practice was over and that she could come and get Bobbie whenever she got home. As Bobbie walked over to my car, I couldn't help but notice how cute his butt was in those white baseball pants. You could see his briefs under them, which told me Bobbie didn't have a cup, or at least it didn't appear that he did. We'd have to talk about that later. The drive away was good, Bobbie waiving at his Mom as we left. He settled into the front seat but didn't put on his seatbelt. I asked him to do so. He didn't move. "Did you hear what I said?" I asked Bobbie. "Yeah," he said, matter-of-factly. "Mom doesn't make me wear one when we're in her car." "Well," I said as I was pulling over. "You're in my car now and safety is number one. Here, let me show you". I reached around Bobbie and grabbed the belt, sliding it over his small body and clicking the buckle in. I ran my hand on the belt to make sure it was `low and tight", lightly brushing my hand across his groin. "There," I said. Then, I put the car in gear and continued to the field. When we arrived, there had to be a million kids there. We got out, found Bobbie's coach and I walked over to the bleachers while Bobbie met his teammates and they started practice. In the two hours we were there, it became obvious that Bobbie had never played before. His hitting was non-existent, his catching was off and his general handling of the ball was poor. By the time we were done, so was he. "Man, I suck," Bobbie said. "This is nothing like the video game baseball". I had to smile. Here was a kid who had mastered baseball on the TV but when the real deal came up, he couldn't hit a fly on the wall. "It's a different set of skills," I said. "I can help you with them if you want". "Would you?" he said somewhat excited. "Sure," I said. "Let's stop off at Walmart and get some stuff we'll need". Bobbie seemed excited we were going into a store and buying stuff just for him. We entered the sporting goods area and I picked up a package of whiffle balls, a plastic bat, a wooden (real) baseball bat, a back-net and then we walked over to the gloves and stopped. Bobbie's eyes got big. "I already have a glove," he said. "I know," I said. "It doesn't look like it's the right size. Your Mom gave it to you didn't she?" "Yeah," he said. "It was her Dads. It's pretty old". "Besides the size," I continued, "it looks pretty worn out. Without a good glove, you're done for". So, we tried on several until we found a new one that fit his hand and was perfect for what we were looking for. His smile could have lit up the room. "Is this mine?" he asked. You could hear the excitement dripping out of his mouth. "Well," I said. "Yes, it is. A gift from your Uncle Mike". He moved quickly and hugged me hard, grabbing around my waist and leaning into me. I will admit it felt good to make this young man feel so special. "We have one more stop to make," I said. Bobbie couldn't believe we were buying all this just for him. We walked over to the jock strap section. He looked puzzled. "What are these?" he asked. "These are going to protect what's important," I said with a squirrely smile. "With baseballs as hard as they are and moving as fast as they do, you do not want to get hit in the crotch with any misplaced equipment". Bobbie had a quizzical look on his face. He though it through for a minute and then realized what I was saying. He moved his legs together as if thinking of what could happen made the pain already real. "Oh", he grunted. "I never thought of that". I pulled what I thought was his size and told him he could try it on when we got home. We purchased it all and drove to my place. It was around lunch time and I asked if he was hungry. I realized asking a 12 year old if he was hungry was really a rhetorical question. I fixed ham sandwiches and he gobbled them down quickly. When we were done, we walked into my back yard and we set up the net and started to work on his form. For the next three hours, I helped him with his batting, his throwing and his form on the field. I often got to put my hands on his hips, work his legs when I would show him how he should stand, as well as discuss defensive plays to keep the ball where he needed it. Whenever it fit into the conversation, I would remind him he had to "work his glove" until it got soft enough that it didn't seem new. We had bought some oil he could put on it when we were done to help soften it up. Even with just three hours, I could see his batting improve tremendously once he learned the basics and his fielding improved even more. He was fast and limber, the two things baseball players need. It was getting around 4 PM and we were both bushed. Sweat was running down Bobbies face and I was pretty tired as well. We took a break and went inside the air conditioning to get a drink. "So, how was your first day?" I asked. "So cool," he said. "You're way better than my Dad". We both stopped as that comment felt strange. "I didn't mean..." He started. "I know what you meant," I told him. "Just because he left doesn't mean he doesn't love you". "Yeah, right," Bobbie said exhaustedly. He seemed a little disgusted by his exiting he and his Mom's life. Bobbie walked over to me and hugged me again. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I have a cool Uncle Mike and he's WAY COOLER." After the hug, he looked up at me with somewhat of a dreamy face. "You're not really my Uncle, are you?" he asked. "Well, technically, no," I said. I heard Bobbie sigh. "Uncle Billy was really cool. You remind me of him". His smile got bigger and bigger. "Except, you're way better," he exclaimed. I was somewhat embarrassed but pleased. I knew his Mom's brother had died last year and didn't want to seem like I was replacing anyone, but then again, this little guy was too cute to let that go. "Uncle Billy sounds like a great guy and I'm honored to be an Uncle to you," I told Bobbie. "Yeah," he said, satisfied that the family tree could have another branch. I sensed a smattering of sadness and decided to change course. "So," I said. "Have you tried on your jock strap?" "My what?" he asked. I forgot that wasn't the official name. "Your cup – your athletic supporter," I told him. "Oh," Bobbie said. "You mean the protector?" He giggled as he said it. "Yes," I said. "That". We went over to the packages and he pulled the jock out of the package and looked it over. "How does this thing work?" he asked. "You put it on like underwear and," I said, pointing to the soft cup. "This goes in front to protect your important parts". "This sure doesn't look like underwear to me," he said. "Can you help me get this on?" Now, I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Baseball, eating, all fun and games but helping a 12 year old put his first jock on – well, this could be trouble – or interesting. "I'm not sure I should be doing that," I told Bobbie. "Maybe your Mom can help you later tonight". "Eeuuuhhh", he said with a disgusting accent. "No way. I can't have Mom putting my – this thing – on me. She'll see all of me". I smiled and chuckled. "I have a hint she's seen all of you before," I said. "Yeah, but not since I was a baby," he said. "I've got hair down there you know". We both stood in the living room for a minute, pondering what to do. "I'll tell you what," I said. "If you and I can keep this a secret, I'll help you put this on the first time so you know how to do it. Agreed"? "Ok," he said. I pointed him towards my bedroom and told him to bring the jock with him. We entered my slumber chamber and he was amazed. "Wow," he said. "That's a big bed". "King size for a king," I told him. "Who else sleeps here," he asked. "That isn't just for you is it?" "I like lots of room," I told him. "It's just me". "You aren't married, are you?" he asked, knowing the answer. "No," I said. "Never thought about it so I never did it". He never asked and I never offered whether I even liked girls and that was probably a good thing. I didn't want to freak out the 12 year old on our first day. I would soon learn that he knew a great deal more about me than I first thought. We walked over and I sat on the edge of the bed. I told him to take his pants and underwear off and I would help him get his jock on. Bobbie pulled the shirt-tail of his uniform out of his pants and unbuckled them. He pulled them down along with his underwear (I was right – white briefs without any protection). He came over with his long uniform shirt hanging mid-thigh, hiding his beautiful parts. Standing there in his long uniform shirt and naked legs, he was a cutie pie. I started to get hard from the view. I had watched him raise his legs to get his pants and underwear off and had gotten a too short glimpse of the surprise under the shirt. Whatever I thought the size of a 12 year old's dick should be, Bobbie certainly broke that mold. He was a solid 5 inches and for a boy of 12, it appeared larger than life on him. It also appeared to be chubbing up. "Sorry," he said. "It's always doing that lately". "Not a problem," I answered. "At your age, it's supposed to do that. Heck, mine's doing it too". I saw Bobbie deliberately look down at my crotch. It was obvious I had a hard on. Bobbie tried to handle his new equipment but couldn't get the hang of it. I took it out of his hands. "Like this," I said, untwisting all of the elastic to make it look like it should. I leaned down. "Here, put your legs into these holes, one at a time". Bobbie lifted one leg, causing his shirttail to come up and I got a clear view of his beautiful dick. It was obvious I was staring as Bobbie lifted his other leg and his jock was at his knees. "Now," I said. "Just pull them up". "You do it, ok?" he asked. I reached down and grabbed both sides of the jock and started to pull them up. As I passed his balls, I realized his dick was now hard and pointing towards his belly button. He groaned as the cloth passed his boner. "You ok?" I asked. "Yeah," he said. "It just feels funny – good funny". I continued to move the elastic back and forth until the straps fit good under his butt and the cup covered as much of his dick as possible. With a hard-on, it poked up above that. It looked really cute. "I guess we didn't get one to fit such a big dick," I said with a smile. "You think it's really big?" he asked, a smile appearing on his cute face. "Bigger than when I was your age," I answered. "Can I ask you something?" Bobbie asked me. "Sure," I answered, pulling his uniform shirt over the front of his now covered hard on. "Do you ever..." He started. "Play with yours?" I wasn't sure where this was going but I have to admit I liked the direction. "You mean my dick?" I asked. "Uh-huh," he answered. "All the time," I said. Bobbie seemed amazed at my answer. "I play with mine too, but lately, I started to have a feeling like I was going to pee so I stopped," he said. "What is that all about?" I realized he was pretty naοve about sex. Considering his Dad had left them when he was young and he lived with his Mom, that wasn't too surprising. "Actually," I said, "You're missing the best part. You won't pee. It just feels like that. So, you haven't cum yet?" "Come for what?" he asked. I realized that I had a boy who had never had "the talk". Although he understood that his peter felt good in his hand, he didn't know what joy it could bring in all sorts of other ways. Uncle Mike had an opportunity to show Bobbie the ropes of sex. "Stay right here for a minute," I said and went into my bathroom. I returned with a wash cloth and a bottle of baby oil (just in case). I sat back down next to my half naked friend and started to explain what we were going to do. "I'm going to show you something but you have to promise this is just between us". "Ok," Bobbie whispered. I reached up and pulled his shirttail up to once again feast my eyes on the most perfect boner I had seen in years. Bobbie was circumcised and his head poked just above the elastic band of the jock. It was so cute. I moved my finger up and around the head and Bobbie groaned. A great amount of pre–cum - more than I thought a 12 year old could produce – leaked out and I polished the head of his peter with it. He started to move his knees in a jerking action. "Oh, Uncle Mike," he groaned. "That's good. I never made it feel that good. As I started to play with his head, the jockstrap started to slip down to his thighs, releasing his peter to the air in the room – and my hand. His pre-cum was enough to slick up his entire rod. "Still feel good?" I asked. "Uh-huh", was all that Bobbie could get out of his mouth. His eyes were closed and his face appeared to be in a blissful state. I gently pushed him back against the bed and had him lay down where his legs were dangling over the edge. He was now moving his hips up into my hand as I jacked the 12 year old off. Bobbie raised his head and looked at me with a dreamy face. "Uncle Mike," Bobbie said, as his breathing started to get faster. "Something's happening". "Yeah, I know," I told him. "Let it go, Bobbie. I promise you're going to love it". Bobbie smiled as he looked at me and laid his head back and started to move his hips harder against my hand. Then, his toes curled and his body jerked. "OH...MGH...GA..." was all that came out of his mouth. His dick, jerking in my hand, shot one, two, three spews of beautiful milky fluid all over my hand and his tummy. His orgasm seemed to last about a minute. I let go of his peter and played with the fluid on his stomach. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards him. He gave me a kiss – on the cheek but it was a lovely kiss. "That was FANTASTIC", he said in a loud voice. "What just happened?" "Remember when I asked if you earlier if you had cum?" I asked. Robbie nodded his head. "Well,' you just did," I said. "Pretty amazing, isn't it?" "WOW," he continued. "I never felt anything like that. "What's all of this...goo?" he asked looking down at his uniform shirt. "I thought you said I wouldn't pee all over myself"? "That's what I was telling you about," I told him. "This isn't pee – it's cum". He looked with a puzzled face. "Boys have a fluid called semen," I said as I brought my hand up to the front of his face. "It's not pee, it's what makes babies". He seemed amazed by all of it. "Here, let me get you cleaned up", I said and reached over for the washcloth I had strategically placed near us. As I wiped up the cum from his belly, my arm slid over his peter and it started to get hard again. "Man, it just won't quit," Bobbie said. "That's ok," I said. "One day, you'll wish you could have multiple hard-ons like that and you won't be able to". "Why," he asked. "As you get older, it takes longer to get one," I told him. "Why did you call it a hard-on?" Bobbie asked. I reached down and started to pull his jock strap back up. "That's what we boys call it," I told him. "The official name is erection but we call it a hard on or a boner". "There's not a real bone in there, is there?" he asked, looking worried. "No, just tissue that can get hard at certain times," I told him. As I pulled his jock strap up over his peter, it seemed to be harder than it was before, probably from all of the talk about sex and boners we were having. It's almost 5," I said. "Your Mom will be home and we should show her your uniform". "Yeah, without the boner," he said. We both giggled. "Don't worry, that will go down soon," I assured him. I got him interested in cleaning up and packing his new equipment. Mom soon came over and picked Bobbie up, thanking me for helping him on his first day. I looked forward to more "help" as the season progressed.