Date: Sun, 9 Jan 2011 18:42:56 -0500 (EST) From: Jorge Alvarez Subject: Tournament-5 Really, Mo should have been at work. It was not like him to call in sick. Rather he was the type of salesman who consistently exceeded his quotas. He lived in an affluent, homogeneous neighborhood where non-Anglo families were still the exception. Actually he had been told that back in the 60s non-whites were not able to buy property in the area. Hard to believe. Nevertheless, he had developped a real fascination for young Latino teenagers, hence his attraction towards Miguel in the plane. Today, he was strolling in the New Jersey summer heat, looking for field 4. Luck had it that he was very familiar with this park. It was located in a neighborhood he and his first wife had raised their children in. It was a beautiful complex, with many sports fields, a stadium, and all the necessary amenities. He had coached his son's little league teams in this very park for years. He even had had sex in the showers a few times. Once with the mother of one of his son's teammates and once with the teenaged sister of another one. Memories... The problem he had was that today the fields were poorly labeled, and there was apparently no map of the park. Yet the Brighton Highlanders were to start playing in less than 20 minutes on field 4. There were so many games played that day, Mo was getting a little desperate. In addition, the mental images that were coming to his mind did not help his focus: his hand pumping Miguel's boyhood. The feel of his shorts. His beautiful dark eyes. His moaning in Mo's hand as he cummed... He saw the blue uniforms a few fields away, and he felt his cock stiffen. He looked for Miguel. The first thing he saw of him was his gorgeous ass. The boy turned towards him. "Fuck" he said softly. Miguel's thighs were molded in black spandex tights that disappeared inside his shorts. "Do these kids know what they look like?" he asked himself. A picture flashed in front of his eyes of Miguel in the plane with only his tights on. He almost could feel the boy's sex in his hand. "Does he wear boxers underneath?" he wondered. Miguel's legs were toned and the muscles showed under the spandex. Smooth legs, tanned from the bottom of the tights to the top of the blue socks. He thought of holding both thighs in his hands, kneeling in front of the boy, his face in Miguel's crotch, eating him through the spandex, swallowing his sack, tonguing his dick. Mo was fully hard now, looking at the boy's shorts and having thoughts of getting on the field and ass-fucking him from behind. After the game was over, Miguel stuck around with some of his teammates. His Mom did not appear to be there. They were quickly joined by a father and a teenaged girl, of probably 16 or 17 years of age, who seemed to be the man's daughter. Mo saw right away that the girl was interested in Miguel, in spite of the obvious age difference. Mo could hardly blame her. Like his, her gaze seemed to often come back to the front of the boy's shorts. She was likely the sister of one of his teammates. He wondered if the two had messed around already. Maybe the girl is just hitting on him. No way he does not know what she is looking at. He had heard that teenagers nowdays have a predilection for oral sex. He wondered if the girl shared his own fellatio dreams. That's when Miguel noticed his presence. Maybe he was too obvious, as most people had left the sidelines already. The boy gave him a few sideways looks as he kept chatting with the girl and the others, but then their eyes found each other. There was some surprise in the boy's eyes, and that was to be expected, but there was no reject. No warmth either, Mo noticed. Mo slowly licked his upper lip twice, left to right and then right to left, and lowered his gaze to Miguel's shorts. He licked his lip again and then looked back up, straight into the boy's eyes. Innocence and lust. Boy and sexual object. Athlete and fuck toy.