Date: Fri, 8 Apr 2011 06:59:53 -0700 (PDT) From: Joe Hunter Subject: Little League Dugout 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 a man 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 This story is true, or at least as true as I could make it. It is dedicated to the memory of a wonderful young ballplayer whose cheerful spirit still waits for me in the dugout after every ball game. I hope you enjoy reading this story. Support Nifty! -- Joe ____________________________ LITTLE LEAGUE DUGOUT (copyright 2011, Joe Hunter) The field lights went out, leaving Jesse standing alone in the dark by home plate on the deserted baseball diamond. He looked toward the parking lot. A light was still shining inside the snack trailer, but that would be off soon. Mike was about done locking up. For a few more seconds, Jesse lingered in the hot, humid July night, reliving again his clutch, game-winning hit of an hour before. Then he turned and ran to the third-base dugout, his gold uniform shirt and blond hair a blur in the darkness. On the soft turf, his Nike baseball shoes made almost no sound. He felt good. It wasn't every day you were on an All-Star Team that won a district championship. His shoulders still tingled from the slaps given by his teammates when they had raced out onto the field for the victory dog pile. That had been great; but the very best thing of all had been Mike's grin and big hug. Jesse wished that Mike was head coach instead of just an assistant. Mike knew more about baseball than anybody - plus he could play good, too. But Mr. Caldwell was the All-Star Team manager. Mr. Caldwell was rich and drove a Lexus; but he didn't know shit about baseball. Mike really ran the team. Jesse didn't like Mr. Caldwell, and he didn't like Mr. Caldwell's son, Larry, either. Larry was a tall kid who was the team's best pitcher, but Jesse thought he was a soft, snotty rich bitch who whined too much and acted stuck up because his father had an expensive car. Jesse was never going to say that out loud again, though. If he did, Mike would kill him - or, at least, give him another long chewing out like he had on the only occasion Jesse had ever voiced his opinion. Teamwork, Mike had told him, was a hell of a lot more important than his likes and dislikes. The team needed Larry's arm, and Jesse could damn well keep his mouth shut and his thoughts to himself. "You let me take care of Larry's whining," Mike had said. "You just work on your hitting and play your ass off at third base. Larry's your teammate. I better not hear one word out of you that isn't nice. You got it?" Jesse had nodded; and that had been that, because - as far as Jesse was concerned - if Mike said it, then it was right. Mike could tell him to jump off a building and Jesse would do it without asking a single question. He could not really explain in words why this was so, but he knew it was. The way he felt about Mike was different from the way he had ever felt about anyone else. No one - not his mother, none of her boyfriends, none of his teachers, not even the men he had gone with in the malls - none had been like Mike. For Jesse, Mike was the most important person in the world. Mike was the reason Jesse was playing baseball. Mike had paid for his registration, gotten him on a team, and then bought him a new glove and shoes. Mike drove him to practice and to games. It was Mike who helped with his schoolwork, Mike who made sure he got enough to eat; and it was Mike who was always there to take him to the beach on Saturdays and Sundays. Jesse would do anything for Mike - and he knew the man felt the same way about him. Stepping down into the pitch dark third-base dugout, Jesse reached out to fumble for the center bench so he could avoid hitting it with his shin. Then he left his ball cap and glove on the top of the wall in a familiar spot, which he located by touch. Once these were safely out of the way, he unbuttoned his form-fitting baseball pants and peeled them down, leaving jock and leggings in place while he pushed the tight pants all the way to his ankles. Warm night air caressed his bare thighs. Jesse sat on the end of the bench, the grain of its wooden surface pressing on his naked butt. After touching the hardness that was tenting up the pouch of his jock, he slid a hand over the smooth side of his butt cheek, stroking the lion that was tattooed there on the pale skin. Mike had told him not to show his tattoo to the other kids, but when they won Sate - like they should - they would go to Regionals, where the players all stayed in dorms. The tattoo would be seen for sure there when he showered and he wondered what the other kids would think. They were all richy-rich, from neighborhoods with big houses, and he was certain none had tattoos. At the start of the season, none had even had any earrings - although a few did now, imitating him. Jesse touched the gold hoop that pierced his left ear lobe, then lifted his shirt, careful not to crease the silk-screened team markings. Once he had it bunched under his armpits, he stretched out on the bench, putting his arms back behind his head. Mike would be coming once he finished locking up, and this was how Mike liked to find him - stretched out, almost naked, in the dark. It was to be alone together like this that they always volunteered to stay late and close the field after games. While he waited to hear Mike's approaching footsteps, Jesse brought one hand down and pushed it beneath his tented up jock. Stripping himself and thinking about Mike had made him so rigid he could feel heartbeats throbbing in his erect penis when he touched himself. Stroking the hard shaft, and brushing his fingertips on the few downy wisps of hair that had recently appeared at its base, he wished for the millionth time that he was bigger. He had seen other kids whose boners were longer than his, but Mike had told him that he was plenty big for his age, so he guessed it was okay. Around him in the close, still night he heard the chirp of insects and a distant hum of cars on the highway. There came the faint sound of the snack trailer door closing. Mike would go lock the equipment shed now, and then he would come. Jesse gave himself a few more quick rubs, arching up a little because it felt good, and then drew his hand out from beneath the jock's elastic waistband. The jock was another thing Mike had bought for him. At first, Jesse had played raw under his baseball uniform, liking the way his tight pants bulged in front and clung to the smooth mounds of his ass in back. But the boners he had popped during games had been way too obvious, so Mike had bought him the jock and showed him how to wear it so his pants looked almost as good as when he went bare. Listening eagerly for Mike's footsteps, Jesse slid a palm over his lean chest and stomach, arching to squeeze his butt and make his stiff penis strain against the constricting jock. Often, at night, he would lay naked in bed, his penis sticking up hard and straight while his hands moved over the silky smoothness of his body. He loved stroking himself, but it was a billion times better when Mike did it. A soft noise came from outside. Jesse hurriedly stretched out again, putting both arms behind his head and half-opening his mouth in anticipation. For a moment the dugout entrance was filled by a shadowy form, then Mike was inside, kneeling beside him, and Jesse's boner ached with hardness as he caught the man's familiar scent. He stretched back, arching his body, and the first touch of Mike's hand sent tingles racing through him. Mike's calloused palm felt so different from his own! Jesse loved the feel of it, and he gave a tiny, and involuntary moan of pleasure as the rough hand stroked down his side and then caressed his lean stomach with slow, circling movements. Trying to hold as still as he could, Jesse could not avoid squirming a little when Mike's fingertips slid onto his chest, lightly brushing across his nipples. Part of him wanted to grab Mike's hand and guide it to where his rigid boner was straining against the tight pouch of his jock; but he knew it was even better to wait and let Mike keep stroking him, building tension in his body. The man's palm brushed his nipples again and then glided slowly down to the hollow of his waist. Jesse caught his breath at the throb that surged deep within him. It felt so good when Mike did that! He always wanted it to go on and on - and tonight it seemed even better because of his game-winning hit, and knowing how proud Mike was of him! More than anything, Jesse wanted Mike to be proud of him; he was ready to do anything for it. As Mike's hand stroked back and forth on the side of his butt, Jesse squeezed, barely holding back the tension mounting within himself. Slowly, with a gentle caress, the man's palm slid onto Jesse's thigh and the boy spread his knees, eager for the touch of the calloused hand along the inside of his leg. When it came, and the edge of Mike's palm pushed up into his crotch, Jesse stretched back, arching even more and squirming with pleasure as the tips of Mike's fingers stroked along his groin creases. A moment later the fingers were rubbing the outline of his rigid boner in the pouch of his jock and Jesse felt aching pressure at the base of his shaft. Straining to pull his knees apart, Jesse made another tiny sound as Mike kept stroking him. It felt so good - so good when Mike did it - better than with anyone else. When the man pushed at the jock's elastic waist, Jesse sucked in his stomach, inviting a further sliding down beneath, eager for what he knew was coming. The first touch of Mike's fingers on the slick, stretched skin of his rigid penis sent thrills shooting through the boy's groin, making him catch his breath. He twisted, squeezing his butt as Mike rubbed him, and then lifted his hips so the man could finish stripping him by pushing the jock off over his thighs and knees until it was down around his ankles with his pants. Naked except for knee socks and the T-shirt bunched under his arms, Jesse stretched back, squeezing and arching his body to make his stiff penis, now freed of constriction, jut up straight from his groin. His shaft hardened even more at the feathery touch of open air. Then Mike's fingers were rubbing, bringing more aching pressure mounting within him, and Jesse squirmed wanting more and more. It felt so good... so good... He tensed, holding himself on the edge as a throb made his hips jerk. At the sudden movement, Mike stopped rubbing and slid his hand onto Jesse's side, stroking down to the boy's hip. Jesse squeezed his butt tight, containing himself until the sense of urgency in his groin eased. Then Mike pulled him up to a sitting position. They didn't talk. They never did when they were doing it; each of them knew from experience what the other wanted. Jesse rubbed himself with his fist while he waited for Mike to slide pants and boxers down; then he leaned forward. The blunt head of the man's erection brushed his lips and Jesse licked it, opening his mouth to let it slide in. With Mike's hands on his shoulders, Jesse relaxed his throat in the way he had learned to do, so he could take nearly the full length of the man's shaft. He breathed in Mike's scent, filling his nose with it, the same way Mike's thick hardness was filling his mouth. Jesse loved the smell of washed denim, leather, aftershave and sweat that was Mike's scent. Just a whiff of it, standing close to Mike at baseball practice, was enough to make him hard. In the truck, leaning against Mike, with the man's arm hugging him, Jesse always closed his eyes, feeling safe with the scent all around him. Now he breathed it in, filling himself with it, while he held Mike's blunt tip in the back of his throat and then with a shudder of ecstasy, he let the hard shaft slide back and forth in his mouth, tonguing it and licking the shaft. The grip Mike had on his shoulders tightened and Jesse took hold of the man's hips, steadying himself and rubbing with his palms on the smooth sides of Mike's butt. Doing Mike was so good. All the men Jesse had done in the malls had been pudgy and fat, with tangled bushes of smelly hair all around their dicks. Mike's body was lean and hard, with no hair because he kept it shaved off. Jesse loved touching him. He let the thick tip of Mike's shaft go all the way down his throat, taking the full length so he could press his face against the man's groin, inhaling the scent, while he slid a hand over the hard muscular ridges in Mike's belly. Even when Jesse had been learning to do Anthony, the boy who had taught him, it had never been this nice. When Jesse had been ten, Anthony had shown him how to get money at the mall, first coaching him in the art of sucking and then demonstrating how to pick up tricks. Jesse could still remember his first scary time, crouched on a toilet seat in a stall, waiting for a strange man to unzip in front of him. "They's two kinds," Anthony had warned him. "Most is okay, but some is mean. Stay in the mall. Doan' let nobody take you outside, like to a car. Get the money up front, an doan' get fucked in the ass." It had been months before Jesse found out that Anthony was keeping half his trick money, and after that they weren't friends anymore. Anthony must have forgotten his own warnings, because Jesse saw him later riding in cars with different men. Then Anthony had disappeared, and Jesse had heard at school that he was in jail for selling rock. In the year that followed Jesse worked alone, learning to vary his routine, going to different malls, always observing the cautions Anthony had taught him. When he had first met Mike at the Arcade, he had looked at Mike's lean, fit build and been sure he was an undercover cop. But Mike had been nicer than anyone Jesse had ever met, and it hadn't been long before they were sipping Coke's together in the food court, talking about baseball. Jesse had related how he was the only white kid on the rec team in the projects, and when Mike suggested they drive to a nearby park for a game of catch, Jesse had followed him out of the mall and gotten into Mike's truck without a second thought. "Every kid needs somebody," Mike had said once and Jesse had hugged him then, because he knew exactly how that was. On the night Anthony had ignored his own warnings and gone with a man out of the mall, had he been looking for somebody, too? Maybe - but Anthony hadn't been lucky. Jesse bobbed his head, letting Mike's shaft slide in his mouth, licking it with his tongue. When he felt the man quiver, he locked his face to Mike's groin, opening his mouth to let the blunt head go all the way down while he held his breath, hugging Mike's hips. There was a quick throb in the mouth-filling hardness and then Mike was stroking his hair as Jesse eased his grip. If they had been in the truck, Jesse would have kept going until Mike got off into his mouth, but in the dugout they followed a different routine. He drew his head back, releasing pent-up breath; then, after giving Mike's rod a final lick, he stretched back out on the bench, arms flung over his head. In the darkness he felt his hard penis straining up, straight and rigid out of his groin. Mike's shadow loomed over him; then the man's tongue slid up his shaft and it was Jesse's turn to feel himself enveloped in moist warmth. He gave a soft little groan of pleasure, squeezing his butt to make his boner as hard as he could. This felt so good! In the malls, strangers had sucked him dozens of times, but it had never been as good as when Mike did it. Those men had just done it for themselves, but Jesse knew Mike was doing it for him, and the knowledge made him feel like the most special kid in the world. Growing tension radiated through his groin as his achingly hard boner slid in Mike's warm mouth and he parted his knees, squeezing to hold himself back. So good, he thought. So good... So good... Mike's lips pulled away. Jesse felt a tap and, shuddering with anticipation, he lifted his legs, pulling his knees to his chest. The bunched up pants around his ankles tickled his nut sac as he rolled back slightly to spread his butt. There was a sudden smell of the stuff Mike used to oil their baseball gloves, then a greasy touch was on his stretched ass and a finger pushed into his rectum. Jesse caught his breath, hugging his knees as the finger slid in, sensation radiating through groin and belly. He loved this more than anything, even though the first time he had been crying because he was so scared. Anthony had told him over and over that kids who took it up the ass got their butts ripped and never stopped shitting their pants. Jesse had fought off any of the men who tried. But Mike had said it wasn't like that at all, and Mike had been so different... More than anything, Jesse had wanted to trust him, so even though he had been frightened he had let Mike do it - and Mike had been so gentle... Anthony had been all wrong... Jesse strained to bear down, opening himself the way Mike had taught him, and a second finger pushed into his opening. The fullness in his rectum sent a pleasurable aching deep into his belly... Then Mike pressed on the special place at the root of his straining boner and ecstasy shot through Jesse's body. He pulled his head back, moaning softly. When Mike's fingers slid out, Jesse straightened his legs and then let the man help him to his feet. Strong arms came around him and Jesse hugged in return, pressing against Mike's warm hard body, pushing beneath the man's shirt to stroke the muscular back. He loved touching Mike. Out in the open they had to be careful, but when they were alone, especially in the truck, Jesse liked to cuddle close, rubbing a hand on Mike's firm warmth. Thrills shuddered within Jesse as he was held tight and a rough caressing palm slid down onto his butt. Nothing in his whole life had made Jesse feel as good as he did with Mike. Lifting his head, he offered his mouth, opening it when they kissed so Mike's tongue could slide in. When he had gone to the malls, Jesse had never let anyone kiss him - not even for extra money. But with Mike it was all different. He opened his mouth wider, wanting to feel Mike deep inside him, and the urgency building in his groin made him squirm his hips, rubbing his stiff boner on Mike's thigh. They writhed against each other, each breathing the other's breath. Then Jesse could wait no longer. He tugged at Mike, signaling for the man to withdraw his tongue, and they changed positions, careful not to trip on the clothing around their ankles. Mike took the spot by the end of the bench while Jesse waited with his back to him, heart pounding as he rubbed himself with his fist in the dark. The smell of glove oil was there again and Jesse's lips parted in excitement because he knew Mike was coating his rod with it. The dugout was the only place they used the glove oil. It was a special thing, just like they saved the coconut lotion for times when they did it at the beach. Mike had different stuff for all their different places, and Jesse knew that it was to make it nice for him that Mike did that. He wished Mike didn't have to live with his parents and had his own apartment, but until Mike got a good job and could live on his own they had to use other places. Once, when Jesse's mother had been gone with a new boyfriend, they had done it at the apartment in the project and for days after Jesse had lain awake in his bed at night, smelling the scent they had used and aching to feel Mike inside him. An oily hand touched his shoulder and he bent over, reaching back with both hands to spread his crack. He felt the brush of Mike's fingers searching for his hole, then the pressure of a blunt tip. Jesse bore down, pulling his head back as the stretching of his ring sent pleasure and pain radiating into his loins. With the bump that was like a popping sensation, Mike came into him and Jesse felt the penetrating hardness he had learned to crave ever since Mike had first done him. It was so good his knees almost buckled, but Mike steadied him with an arm around his waist and Jesse moaned in pleasure, struggling to push back so he could be filled completely. Urine dribbled from his boner as he strained down. Then Mike pulled him back onto the bench and Jesse let the rigid hardness slide deep into his body, impaling himself on its full length. Lying on top of Mike, with the man's arm around him and the warmth of Mike's body against his back, Jesse felt the thrusting pressure in his butt that made his own boner stick up, rigid and straight. He stretched, extending his arms back over his head, squirming in ecstasy. Before Mike had done him, he had never thought anything could feel so good, and now it was like he wanted Mike in him all the time. He arched his body, pulling his head back and parting his thighs as far as he could, wishing he could kick off the pants around his ankles. In the dugout, they never took their clothes off all the way because someone might drive into the parking lot, so the pants had to stay. By twisting his hips on the jutting thickness filling him, Jesse sent an ache of pleasure into the pit of his belly, and he caught his breath, moaning at how good it felt. At first when they had done it, Jesse had been afraid to make noise. He had even been nervous about moving, but Mike had told him that moving around and making noise was okay, so now he did it all the time because he liked it so much. He writhed, moaning again, while Mike's hands slid down his chest and belly all the way to his groin where they rubbed on his jutting boner. Jesse stretched back, letting the moving fingers and penetrating fullness in his rectum make his rigid penis strain upward. Shuddering thrills raced through him, then a throbbing deep in his loins made him jerk and Mike wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him tight. Jesse had known about rubbing himself since he had been small. Now, sometimes, he could make himself come a little, but that was nothing like what he felt when Mike did it. With a soft cry Jesse gave himself up to the waves of sensation breaking over him, closing his eyes as more throbs pulsed in his groin. Beneath him, he felt Mike's hips lifting, and each thrust was an ache of pleasure deep in Jesse's gut. His mouth opened and he gave a little groan as pulsing contractions jerked his own hips making his lower legs kick. Urgent pressure was building inside him, but with his opening stretched by Mike's rod Jesse had no way of squeezing to hold back, even if he had wanted to. He twisted on the impaling thrusts, writhing and arching, while dribbles of wetness rolled off his tip onto Mike's stroking fingers. Pressure mounted in a surge of ecstasy and he pulled his head back, body rigid with tension. In pulse after pulse waves of release crashed over him and suddenly he was jerking, legs kicking, spurt after spurt shooting from his straining boner all over his chest and belly in a slick warmth that Jesse loved, bringing a spasm of even harder contractions into his shaft. Mike prolonged him by pushing a finger in his belly button, and Jesse's young body jerked until he thought he must die of pleasure. It went on and on, and then Mike was heaving too, coming inside him, and Jesse wanted him to keep going always and forever and never, never stop... It did stop at last. It always did, no matter how hard he tried... Jesse lay sprawled on top of Mike, head lolling, the man's hands caressing him... Jesse drifted. The fullness was still up in him and Mike's palm rubbed back and forth on his chest, smearing the streaks of glistening come into his skin. He felt so good now, the way he always did afterwards with Mike's arms around him, and he wished the feeling would never change. But the hardness inside was softening, just as he his own had. Gradually the fullness lessened, then slid out, leaving Jesse empty and already wanting the next time, so he could be filled once more... The smell of glove oil was in his nose again. Mike was rubbing it into his belly and hip, giving him loving caresses that tickled just enough so Jesse had to giggle. Sudden happiness flooded through him and he thought of the many games when he had sat in the dugout, sniffing the oil on his glove, picturing what he and Mike would do later - and then the pride he would see in Mike's eyes when he went up to bat, baseball pants tight on his butt and a bulge showing in front despite the jock. Every hit he got, every great play he made, brought the magic - the magic of knowing how proud Mike would be - and tonight, his game winning hit had been the very best of all! It was magic all over again as he thought of it and suddenly Jesse squirmed, turning over with Mike's help, so he could wrap his arms around the man and hug him so tight he never wanted to let go. "My ballplayer," Mike whispered, stroking him. "My wonderful ballplayer..." From somewhere in the humid darkness out beyond the fences came the faint sound of rap booming on a car stereo. It throbbed for a while, a distant primitive pulse in the night and then faded away. Jesse lay pressed against Mike's hard warmth, his lower legs pulled up and the man's arms around him, both content despite the awkward position. Part of the excitement of using the dugout was doing it on the narrow bench and Jesse didn't mind any discomfort. He would have been willing to stay much longer but Mike was tickling, which meant he wanted to get up, so Jesse straightened his legs and, moving clumsily because of the pants around his ankles, he let Mike push him to his feet. When they were both standing, they hugged. "We better get something for you to eat," Mike whispered. Jesse squirmed, rubbing against him, then reached down to tug at the man's penis. "I mean, besides that," the man told him with another kiss. "Where do you want to go?" "Subway," Jesse told him happily, and they grinned at each other. Subway was Jesse's most favorite place of all to eat and part of their good luck ritual after every win was for Mike to take him there. They hugged again and then Mike knelt down to kiss the lion tattoo on Jesse's butt cheek, which was another part of their good luck ritual. With Mike's help, Jesse got his jock and pants back up and then retrieved his cap and glove while Mike dressed. When they were out of the dugout and walking to the truck, Jesse looked back over his shoulder at the dark, empty ball field. Winning District had been so awesome. Tomorrow, he and Mike would go to the beach in celebration, and stay at a motel where they could do all the things Jesse liked. Then, the next day, the whole team would leave in a car caravan for the State Tournament. Every year their district was the strongest, so Jesse knew they could win; and he was going to get more big hits to make sure they did, because... Jesse took a breath to steady himself. The dream was so close now! A win at State would send them all the way to the Regional Championships, and there - if they kept on winning - they would play on national TV for the biggest prize of all --- a trip to the Little League World Series! Jesse wanted it so bad he was ready to do anything - not just for himself, but for Mike, too. If the team did well enough, Mike would get the good job he wanted as a high school coach. Then he could afford his own apartment, and Jesse could live with him all the time. There wouldn't have to be anymore junky project apartments, or his mother's doped up boyfriends... Jesse touched himself, rubbing his crotch. He was soft now, but he knew it would be hard again later. He wished Mike already had his apartment and they were going back to it. Mike had told him that, soon, as he got older, he was going to start liking girls more, and Jesse was sure it was true; not just because Mike had said it, but because he already sort of did. But the girls his age all wanted to go with older kids, and being around girls still kind of scared him. For now, he liked it best being with Mike, where he felt safe. He put his arm around Mike's waist and the man hugged his shoulders in return. Looking up, Jesse imagined how it was going to feel, standing in the batter's box at home plate, wearing his All-Star uniform on national TV. They were going to win, he was sure - and Mike was going to be so proud of him... In his mind's eye he saw himself swing and the long fly ball went up into the air, a white speck in the lights, soaring higher and higher, then dropping over the fence for the winning run... It was all going to happen. He just knew it! And when he rounded the bases, with the crowd cheering and his excited teammates swarming around him, he would catch sight of Mike's grin and it would be the most wonderful incredible thing that had ever been in the whole entire world! -=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 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. 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