Date: Sun, 08 Aug 2010 20:57:33 -0400 From: tommyhawk1@aol.com Subject: Pinch-Hitter PINCH-HITTER By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM Mom was beautiful in her wedding dress. My Mom is a very beautiful woman, everyone says so and I think so, too. But she was also sweating heavily and her face was far too red-looking under her make-up, which was looking a bit runny. "You're sick, Mom." I said when I handed her the veil at her gesture. "Yes." she said faintly. "I'm afraid so, dear." "But you're getting married today!" I nearly wailed. "What'll Coach think?" "He knows, dear." Mom said. "We can't cancel the wedding, everything's been all arranged for this day. Everyone's waiting for us." She sat down on the pew nearby a little too hard. "Momma needs to rest a while before the wedding." she said to me. "You go to Coach, he'll be waiting for you. You're one of his groomsmen, you know." "He said I was his best man." I protested. "His brother is his best man." Mom reminded me. "Well...he wanted me for his best man." I said. "Not his fault his mom made him let his brother be it." "So go be his groomsman." Mom waved a weary hand my way. She really looked sick. I'd seen her take medicine, but it didn't seem to be doing her any good. I went over to where Coach was getting ready. Seeing his big frame stuck inside a tuxedo was really something, it was all shiny and his body made it all bulgy in a nice way. "Hey, Ian!" he said when I opened the door. "Hi, Dad!" I called back. Coach grinned at that, but shook his head. "Not yet, I'm not." He said. "I have to marry your mother first. Then I'll be your stepfather, but you can call me Dad then if you want." "I do...Coach." I said. God, I was so lucky. How many boys get to have their Little League coach become their father! "But how is a stepfather all that different from a father, anyway?" My own father had died when I was only three, I had no memories of him unless you count a few fuzzy ones of someone big and strong holding me and singing in a deep voice, a memory). Coach looked at me, tried to decide how much he should say, I guess. "You know what a pinch-hitter is, right." "Yeah." I said. A pinch-hitter is someone you bring in to hit in place of someone else who can't do it or do it very well. "So a stepfather is someone who marries your mother when your father is gone and you need someone to step in and fill in for him." Coach went on. "But it has to be someone your mother really, really wants to fill in for your father." "Me, too!" I said. "Dad!" Coach just laughed and rumpled my hair (then straightened it again) and didn't correct me again. After all, it was only a few minutes before it was official. The wedding was just like we'd rehearsed it the last few days. Except for Mom coughing a lot during the vows. And then Coach lifted the veil to kiss her at the end. Mom looked at him kind of loving, kind of cross-eyed, kind of nauseous...and then hurled chunks all over his tux! Coach caught her before she could fall, and carried her over to the side-door. Wedding was over and my only consolation was that it was done, at least! That was what I thought until I overheard my aunts at the reception. Mom and Coach weren't in it, he'd gone with her to the hospital, but the reverend had sent everyone over to feast without the guests of honor. I guess Father Michael had seen it all in his forty years in the ministry! But I was telling about my aunts and what they said, "A shame about the wedding. No kiss, even. It's not legal without the kiss, you know." One aunt said. My heart jumped into my mouth, but my other aunt said, "No, the kiss isn't required, Norma. It's the wedding night. You have to consummate the marriage, you know. Until you do, it can be annulled at any time by just anyone, you know." "They say that Susan is going to be in the hospital for a week or more." Aunt Norma said with a shake of her head. "I wonder if that dear Gilbert is going to be willing to wait. I know that Susan was saving herself for marriage as it was...." I didn't stay and listen to any more, I went over to find someone to drive me to the hospital to see Mom and right now! A cousin did so and I found my new Dad (or was he my new Dad yet?), well, anyway, I found Coach in the waiting room. He'd removed his tuxedo jacket and ruffled front, getting rid of most of Mom's barf that way. His hair was now mussed up and looking like it did when he was coaching our team. "Hey there, Ian." he said to me. "Your Mom's sleeping now, sorry." I babbled out tearfully what I'd overheard my aunts saying at the reception-that-wasn't. "And they say you aren't married to Mom after all!" I wailed as a finish. "Now, Ian, Ian!" Coach held me. "Don't think like that." "Then were they lying?" I asked. "Not exactly." Coach didn't believe in lying to a kid, ever. "But for a marriage to be annulled, someone has to ask for it to be annulled. I'm not going to do that, and neither will your mother. We'll take care of the rest of the marriage when she's better, that's all. Until then, we'll just not worry about it, okay?" "Okay." I said dolefully. But I didn't believe it. Until Coach was able to consummate the marriage with my mother (and I knew what consummation was thanks to my asking my cousin while being driven to the hospital by him--I'd learned a long time ago the best way to get the truth from adults was to ask different ones little pieces of the question, then put it all together myself), he wasn't really married to her. But what was I to do about it, anyhow? Wish I could ask Coach what to do! But he'd already said not to worry about it. The closest thing Coach had to refusing to answer a question we kids would ask him was to say that! It meant he didn't want to talk about it, and I wouldn't get any more out of him. So I sat next to him while we waited, talking about other things. After a while, a doctor came out and talked to Coach (the doctor treated Coach like Mom's husband, at least) and finished with words I could hear, "So take your son home and come back tomorrow. We'll start the tests at ten a.m." "I'll be here." Coach said and put an arm around my shoulder. "Let's go home, Son." "Okay, Dad." I said. But the word rang false in my ear. After all...he wasn't really my Dad yet, was he? And wouldn't be as long as Mom was in the hospital, instead of in his bed. I wished there was something I could do. I was in my bed waiting to sleep when I realized just what I could do. Something Coach had said before the wedding. I got up and padded barefoot into Mom's bedroom. Coach's bedroom now, too, of course. He'd moved his stuff in the day before yesterday, and their plan had been to stay here for their honeymoon and finish setting up. I wondered if he'd be asleep, but he stirred and turned in the bed when I walked in. I could see him, a dusky figure in the deep twilight of the room, lit only by the street lights outside, none of them too close to the house. "Ian? What is it? Can't sleep?" "Yeah." I said. "Can I get in with you?" "Sure." he flipped a corner of the covers back and I slid in. I was wearing just my briefs, I couldn't see that he was wearing anything but the covers weren't thrown back far enough to show below his waist. He was bare to the waist, anyhow. Good. I got in beside him and covered us both up and snuggled in next to him. "Don't worry about your mother, Ian." Coach said. "She's getting really good care in the hospital." "It's not a cold, is it?" "I'm afraid not. They're running tests on her tomorrow. We'll find out what the problem is and get it fixed, don't worry about it." Shut up about it, he meant. "I wasn't worried about her." I said. "I was worried about you." "Me?" "Yeah." I said and my hand and leg went up onto his body, hand on his chest, leg on his upper thigh...it still felt bare, he was wearing only briefs...or nothing at all. "Why are you worried about me?" "It was about your not being married until you can consummate the marriage." "Not that again!" Coach sounded disgusted by the subject. "Ian, I told you, it's not that important, we'll just wait until your Mom gets out of the hospital and everything will be fine." "We don't have to wait, Coach." I interrupted him before he could get to "don't worry about it" again. "Hah?" he said instead. "Pinch-hitter, Coach, pinch-hitter. A player can't play, you send in a pinch-hitter, right?" "Yeah, but..." "So I'm your pinch-hitter." I said. "Instead of doing this consummating with Mom, you do it with me, okay?" "But...but...." "And then you'll start being my father." I concluded. I reached down, sliding my hand over his stomach and down further, yes, he wasn't wearing a stitch under the covers! I grasped his prick and I felt it surge and harden in my hand, just like Jake and Mitch had said it would. "Ian, Ian, God!" Coach murmured, his hand plucking at my arm ineffectually, like he wanted to take my hand away and couldn't bring himself to do it at the same time. "It's okay, Coach, really!" I said to him. "We boys all knew. You'd come watch us in the showers sometimes, and we'd see you get that lump in your pants and know that you were wanting to get undressed and come in with us. We told you to come in with us, didn't we?" "I never did!" Coach breathed. "And I never touched any of you, honest, never!" "I know you never did." I said as I got his cock hard and began to pump it back and forth. "But it's okay. I know what to do, and it's okay, it's fun! Really!" "Guh! Uhhhh! Uhhhh!" Coach was moaning and he summoned up his will and grabbed my arm and lifted me free of his dong! But I was ready for that, I dove under the covers and as he pulled at my arm, my head swiveled down and I caught his glans in my mouth and sucked it inside. "Oh, God!" Coach groaned and all resistance stopped. His hand came down onto my head, but it only touched my head and stroked me while I nursed on his pud. He lay his head back on the pillow and just groaned while his hand made circles on my scalp. His cock was throbbing on my tongue, I'd never felt anything like it before. My friend's dicks had been tiny little things that never did anything. Coach's pud was leaking hot salty fluid that tasted great, I licked it off over and over again and always there was more to be sucked off in a bit. "Oh, God, Ian, I'm going to cream!" he gasped after a bit. "I'm going to squirt it, baby, squirt it right down your mouth and throat! Can I do that, Ian, I can squirt my jizz into my boy? Will you take it for me?" If it tasted like what I was already getting, which it probably did.... "Uh-huh!" I grunted and his hands suddenly clenched on my head and began working it up and down on his dong, fast. I held on as best I could but didn't have to hold on long, for he was moaning hard and then he said, "Here it comes, Son, here comes...your new...Daddy's...come! Uh-KUHHH-HUHHHH, HUHHHHH!" And it did taste like the stuff I'd been licking before. Now I could and did drink it down as he pumped it into my mouth, hot and salty and creamy and GOOD! Coach was squirming and hunching up at my mouth, even after he finished squirting it all into me and I was sucking on an empty cock that was going soft. He stopped, finally, lay back on the bed panting, his big chest heaving. "You see, Coach?" I said to him as I climbed up on his warm, sweaty body, just to feel it against my own. "Until Mom gets better, I can pinch-hit for her just like I do sometimes on the team!" "Oh, you sure can, Ian, you sure can!" "Can I call you Daddy now?" I asked. "You sure can...Son!" "Daddy!" I kissed him and this time, the word felt just right. I didn't know how long Mom was going to be in the hospital, but I knew that I was willing to pinch-hit for her just as long as it took. And maybe even after! THE END Comments, complaints or suggestions? E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM