Catcher and Pitcher Part One: Spring


Daniel Bradford

copyright 2009 all rights reserved

Seeing as how it was a Sunday evening about six weeks before the end of the school year, I should have been working on one of my final projects or something pertinent, but I was thoroughly engrossed in a video game with my little brother. Jeremy, or Germ, as I nicknamed him years ago, is three years younger, a mere eighth-grader but he has a keen eye, a lightning-quick trigger finger, and seemingly the ability to trash any video game opponent; I was no exception. I love my younger brother, am awed by his skill and enjoyed the competition, but I was more than a bit relieved when mom walked into the den with the cordless phone.

"Sorry to interrupt, but it's for you," she said and handed me the receiver.

"Whoo hoooo! Fuckin' A!" I hollered after ending the call. "Oh, sorry mom," I said sheepishly, seeing her standing nearby while returning the receiver to the cradle. I noticed Jeremy smirking at me, expecting me to get in trouble with our mother for using the ‘F' word.

Instead she just smiled and said, "It must have been good news; do tell."

"Robbie Wexler had an accident; he'll be out for the rest of the season. I'm gonna play varsity! Where's dad? I gotta tell him!" The words came tumbling out; I was so excited.

"Congratulations, Davey; sounds like a lucky break for you! As far as I know, your dad is out in the garage playing with his favorite toy." In any other instance I would have corrected her; I was still trying to convince everyone to call me David, my given name, or at least Dave. Davey sounds like I'm a baby, when I'm almost 17.

Indeed, dad was in the garage fussing over some part of his 1968 Chevy Camaro. I was all too familiar with the story of how he had purchased the "classic" car from a friend of a college buddy and had subsequently restored it, seemingly twice! Still there was always something that needed his attention despite the fact that it only got out for the garage for weekend drives or an occasional car show.

Once I got his attention, he interrupted his work to listen. "Dude! That's so awesome. When's your first game?"

Internally I cringed at his attempt to sound hip, though I knew he was 110% sincere. We both shared the opinion that I was a better athlete than Robbie Wexler, even though he was a senior. (My dad also had very high hopes for me, both in sports and academically.) "I'll be starting against Marshall on Friday."

Still wearing disposable gloves, he pulled me into a tight hug, something he seldom did. "I'll be there!" he said, giving me a huge smile. "And if you get home in time, I'll let you drive," he said nodding toward his prized Camaro. To date, I'd never driven the car, so his offer came as a supreme compliment.

"Thanks, dad. Sounds great! I'm glad you'll be there." Then I gave him a hug, which I think surprised him as well.

Despite, my own conviction that I was at least Robbie's equal, and the positive reassurances from my parents, and even Jeremy, I tossed and turned throughout the night. More than once I glanced across our room at my sleeping brother, knowing that my sister Angela, and my parents also slept free of my concerns. It wasn't so much that I was afraid of failure, but I was afraid of failing Chuck. Chuck, Chas, Charles Burke was a senior and had lettered at least twice in every sport he pursued, though baseball was his preferred sport. University scouts had already been in attendance at several games this season and no one doubted that Chuck would eventually go on to play pro baseball. The team was having a good season and I was sure that Robbie and Chuck had established an on-field relationship that I couldn't hope to replicate with just four days' practice. On top of all that was the fact that Chuck was a god, at least as far as I was concerned. At nearly 6 foot-two, and approximately 180 pounds, he was big even for a high school senior; whenever he suited up for any sport his arms, legs, chest, ass and crotch all seemed to bulge within the uniform. There was the smallest gap between his front teeth, which was displayed when he smiled, something he did freely. His brown hair was unruly unless closely cropped, while his brown eyes sparkled with confidence and/or mischief almost constantly. Even with his athletic prowess and good looks, he was refreshingly modest, at least most of the time. He wasn't the brightest nor was his family particularly well off, but Chuck was fun to be around and people, both girls and boys competed to be near him. Due to the one-year age difference, we hadn't been on a team together: I was always JV when he was varsity, except earlier this year when I finally made the varsity football team.

I dragged myself from my bed Monday morning and managed to get through the day's classes without incident, though I was hardly in top form. Eventually I made my way to the locker room and began to change with my teammates. We were about ready to head to the field when Coach Robinson entered and whistled loud enough to silence the noisy room.

"Listen up guys. Dave's being bumped up to varsity to fill in for Robbie Wexler, who suffered an accident this weekend. Phil, you'll be the starting catcher for Friday's game." There was a general murmur and everyone was looking around trying to catch the eye of a friend or one of those mentioned; a mid-season switch was a very rare event. "Dave, we hate to lose you but the varsity boys are on a winning streak so they definitely need you. Right guys?" Cheers answered his question, along with some weak clapping and a resounding boo and hiss from Rick, the JV shortstop and self-appointed team clown.

"Thanks, Rick. I love you too!" I retorted before laughter broke out.

"Oh, and Dave, don't worry about us too much. I know we always tease Phil about being a bit slow, but I know he's more than ready to step up to the plate," coach said while wrapping an arm around Phil's shoulders and shaking him in a friendly gesture.

I clasped Phil's right hand firmly in mine and shook it sincerely. "Congratulations bro, it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy," I said with a smile.

"Ditto," Phil replied. "We'll all be rooting for you, so make us proud," he said with a smile and squeezed my shoulder with his left hand. He had a very strong grip and I doubted even he was aware of his strength.

"If you think you can get promoted to varsity by dislocating my shoulder, you're even dumber than I thought," I said and playfully slapped the side of his head. We had been teasing each other all season so this exchange was nothing new.

"Me dumb," he said placing a finger on his chest. "You dumber," he continued while jabbing his finger into my chest. We both laughed and jostled each other before following the others out the door and onto the field.

After organizing warm-ups, Coach Robinson accompanied me across the practice field and formally introduced Varsity Coach Harlan. My earlier fatigue was replaced with nervous energy and a generous dose of adrenaline; I started to perspire. Coach Harlan greeted me with a strong handshake and welcomed me to the team. The two coaches talked, basically ignoring me except for the occasional, largely rhetorical question. When Coach Robinson left, Coach Harlan said a few words before he signaled for Chuck to join us. Seeing my idol walking toward us, I wiped my brow as I felt rivulets of sweat run down my back and from my pits.

"Glad you could make it on such short notice," he said wrapping my rather large hand in his larger, stronger one. He smiled broadly and my eyes were drawn to his face and the gap between his front teeth.

"Tell the kid what he needs to know and let's get this show on the road," my new coach said while slapping Chuck firmly on the shoulder. I quickly glanced from one to the other and realized they had developed some sort of shorthand communication. I would have felt left out except for the appearance of another smile from Chuck; suddenly I felt at ease except for desperately wanting to please the star pitcher.

He quickly outlined his expectations before adding, "From what I hear, you know what you're doing, so let's just see what happens. I'll be sure to let you know if something's not up to snuff, but all you really have to do is help us win every game and you're golden." He flashed another incredible smile, accompanied by a wink and said, "C'mon, let's make this happen!" Phil's hand felt like a caress compared with Chuck's firm grasp on my shoulder as his muscled arm propelled me onto the varsity practice field.

I was grateful that coach insisted on some one-on-one practice every day before the team's next game; they had been together all season and pretty much understood each teammate's strengths and weaknesses; I was an unknown entity. Of course they wanted to win, so they worked to get me up to speed. (It took no time whatsoever to realize that Chuck was an all-together different animal once he stood on the pitcher's mound. I swear, a nuclear blast could occur in left field and he wouldn't have noticed.) Of course I already know that I had to be on my toes at all times.

By lunch period on Friday, I was a complete basket case. I forced myself to eat something, even though I wasn't the least bit hungry. After my last class I called home to tell dad I wouldn't be home before the game; I didn't mentioned that I planned to walk the field until it was time to suit up. Finally entering the locker room, I was a bit more relaxed and the familiar banter of jocks suiting further soothed my jangled nerves. I couldn't decide if I was relieved or disappointed that coach didn't single me out for some last-minute instructions. I wanted to believe that he thought everything was fine but I wasn't sure until Chuck slid up beside me as the team headed for the field for warm up.

"We're gonna win," was all he said in a quiet, matter-of-fact tone while his arm tightly squeezed my shoulder.

And we slaughtered them: 15 - 2 being the final score. Admittedly, Marshall was one of our weakest competitors, but that night it hardly mattered. Chuck, and Eric, one of the star batters got lots of attention in the locker room; I was happy for them but also relieved that there was no shit raining down on me. Dad was waiting outside when I emerged and he treated me to burgers and fries at our favorite haunt. He even let me drive the car, though we were in town, so I could only hear the throaty baritone and feel the slight shudder of the powerful V-8, while it idled at a signal. It really didn't matter, as I was high from my first varsity win and driving dad's prized Camaro simply underscored the pride he was feeling too.

With a win and two weeks' practice with the varsity team under my belt, I felt comfortable boarding a bus the following Friday for an away game. The competition was fierce and scoring was held in check at almost every turn. By the bottom of the ninth, we were ahead by a single run and Chuck had already shut out two players. With a runner on second, the batter got a hit but was tagged at first; I was poised to retrieve the ball while keeping the runner in the corner of my eye. I cursed the first baseman for fumbling the ball, as the runner got ever closer, but smiled to myself when I felt the smack of the ball in my glove and I reached down to tag the opponent.

I started to stand erect, victorious, as my face unconsciously broke into a smile. As if in some parallel universe, the umpire's voice yelled "Safe!" I turned in disbelief and almost immediately Coach Harland and Chuck were in the umpire's face to contest his call. Pulling off my mask I stepped away from the plate, half listening as the officials decided that the umpire's claim of a technicality would stand. We didn't lose but we didn't win; the final score was 4 - 4.

It had been a fiercely competitive game: two evenly matched teams competing against each other. Many of the players felt that a win had been stolen from them by an umpire's dubious call; others possibly laid the blame on me. I couldn't decide which side I should be on. I showered and dressed as quickly as possible before entering the idling bus, selecting a seat near the back. Immediately I pulled my iPod from my backpack, closed my eyes and willed myself to sleep before the team filled the vacant seats. Fuck! Tonight totally blows!

As the team began boarding the bus they seemingly read my "do not disturb" body language and left me alone. They were unusually quiet, probably due to fatigue from the demanding game but mostly, I assumed from the umpire's final call, which cost the team another win. I was almost nauseous from the diesel fumes by the time the bus finally got underway. Though my eyes remained closed I could hear and feel the bus stop and start as it made its way through town. The bus was finally on the open highway and sleep started to overtake me, when I felt the seat move from the weight of another body. I pretended to sleep until a bud was gently pulled from my ear.

"I hope you're not feeling responsible for the final score," a quiet voice said. "It's not your fault, so don't go beating yourself up."

It sounded like something coach might say, but it didn't sound like his voice. I steeled myself before opening my eyes; Chuck was sitting next to me. He definitely was not smiling, but maybe there was something like compassion or understanding in his expression. Regardless, the fact that he had mentioned the matter seemed to confirm my responsibility rather than offer absolution; I clumsily denied any feelings of guilt.

He probably wasn't convinced, but he simply said, "Good, glad to hear it." He gave a small half-smile and we were both quiet for some time. When he faced me again, he said, "You know, we should be a lot tighter, you and me...cuz we're the team that leads the team, you know. I'm not saying you're not good, cuz you are, but there really hasn't been time know, for us to really mesh or, anything." He paused and looked at the floor before looking back at me. "I don't want to push you but it would be great if we could get some one-on-one practice... so we could read each other better; you know? I can't always be leaving the mound to chat you up. I guess you can't run over to ask me questions either," he added with a bit of a smirk. (Private time with Chuck should have been paradise, but it felt more like waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was like, whatever, whenever.) Chuck told me when he would pick me up at my house on Sunday.

A long, uncomfortable pause followed, so I picked up the abandoned bud. Just as I was about to return it to my ear, Chuck's hand grabbed mine and held it. He leaned close to my ear. "I usually pitch, but sometimes I catch," he said as his other hand reached over to gently squeeze my crotch.

(No fucking way did that just happen! With Chuck, jock and stud were synonymous. I mean, some of my friends are his former girlfriends!) My mind considered the gamut of possibilities: from a prank played on the new guy (me) to something as gruesome as a good old-fashioned gay bashing. In the moment buzzers and flashing lights were going off in my brain, so after a nervous chuckle I replied with a bit of sarcasm. "Yeah, right! After how many beers?"

His hand released my wrist to cup my ear; his other hand stayed at my crotch. "I'm serious," he whispered, his mouth so close that his breath tickled my ear, which caused my cock to stiffen despite the circumstances. I did not say anything or even make a sound, though my dick had something to say.

His face was now far enough from my ear that I could see his smile. "I'll see you Sunday." He picked up the bud and placed it in my ear before he settled into an empty seat across the aisle. He stretched out, trying to get comfortable for the remainder of the ride. Occasionally I glanced at his semi-recumbent form, but mostly I stared out the window at the passing dark landscape. Neither the music nor the landscape had any effect on my head after Chuck seriously fucked with it. I had been content to simply enjoy six weeks of playing varsity baseball with the totally handsome, totally talented and totally straight stud/pitching machine, a.k.a. Chuck Burke but he had practically put his tongue in my ear and suggested that he played my kind of ball. (At least I wasn't thinking about the game anymore.) The two sides of my brain waged war; I was exhausted when the bus pulled into the school lot.

Dad said to call if I needed a ride home, but that seemed pretty lame, since I was riding a bus filled with my teammates. (Surely someone lived near me!) Unfortunately after only two weeks and still feeling responsible for the fumbled win, I was reluctant to approach anyone. "Dave, you need a ride?" I turned to see it was Chuck making the offer.

"Yeah, sure; if you don't mind." I was grateful and fell in stride with him.

He turned to face me. (I swear I wasn't staring at his ass, but he's like half a foot taller so he has really long legs.) "C'mon, it's late. Pick up the pace," he encouraged before his arm wrapped around my shoulder and hurried me to where his car was parked. There were only a few cars left in the lot but I never would have guessed that the 1990s burgundy Oldsmobile Cutlass was his; it was completely out of character, but I was too tired and way too nervous to ask. We were mostly silent during the short drive, except for me giving him occasional directions. There was absolutely no mention of our exchange on the bus and I sort of wondered if maybe I had imagined the whole thing. "See you Sunday," he said, as I was about to close the door. He had a tiny smile on his face.

"I'll be ready. And thanks again for the ride."

"No biggie," he replied as I slammed the door.

I made my way to the room I shared with Germ, dropped my bag and headed to the bathroom to piss and brush my teeth. When Chuck tickled my ear on the bus, I anticipated a major stroke session back home in the relative privacy of my bed, but once my head hit the pillow I was out. Despite the fact that my body succumbed to the comfort of my bed, my libido apparently had another agenda, as I woke with some very wet and sticky briefs the next morning. I was clear about the origin of this rather unusual state of affairs, (usually I took matters into my own hands, literally) but hadn't a clue as to what I should do about this.

Chuck arrived at exactly the appointed time and we were doing a few warm-ups when Eric appeared. It was completely unexpected, as Chuck never mentioned Eric, but I had no objections, seeing as how Eric was at least as handsome as Chuck, though not nearly as big or muscular. Chuck was wearing a wife beater and some basketball shorts, while Eric and I wore well-worn athletic shirts with the school mascot; my plaid shorts contrasted with his worn and faded jean-shorts, which perfectly displayed his amazing ass. I was all ready to enjoy a couple hours of high school jock eye-candy, until Chuck approached the mound. His easy-going smile was gone, replaced by the same focused expression he wore at every game. Taking my cue, I tried to focus strictly on our practice session, though when Eric managed to connect, I did take a moment to admire his ass while he was still in his follow-through, then I'd raise my eyes enough to catch a glimpse of Chuck before he wound up for the next pitch.

Eric stayed long enough to work through Chuck's bucket of balls twice! After we collected them from the outfield the second time, he excused himself and Chuck and I continued a one-on-one session. Without the relief of having a player at bat, my legs were beginning to ache from the almost continuous squat, though neither Chuck nor his arm showed any signs of fatigue or desire to stop. It wasn't until I stood while refusing to return the ball, that Chuck was finally wrested from his concentration.

"Guess I finally wore you down," he said with one of his incredible smiles.

I noticed he lightly rubbed his pitching arm, but didn't comment on that. Instead I simply said, "You're a machine!"

"Sorry man."

"No. It was good! I... you...I mean I have a much better feel for your game. And having Eric here really helped me read you better. Thanks. Um...I sure hope I did a better job behind the plate." I truly appreciated the time and attention he was giving me.

"Cool," was all he said as he motioned to me to pack it in. "But I'm dying of thirst, hurry up dude. Let's go!" I started to flush with embarrassment and frustration until I noticed his lightning quick smile, which seemed to make his eyes sparkle in the same moment. We jogged to the car and tossed the equipment in the back seat. I scurried around to the passenger's side but Chuck was fiddling with something, so I buckled my seatbelt while waiting on him. "Catch!" he yelled and I automatically went into catcher's mode. He hurled something through the open door and I easily caught it in my bare hands, while noting the velocity the object had attained in the short distance. He was already getting into the car before I opened my hands to reveal the plastic cup, which had been in his jock just seconds earlier. Its warmth seemed to burn my hands and the scent made my cock twitch, as Chuck reached over and grabbed it from my hands. "You don't have to hang on to that," he said almost dismissively. He stretched over the seatback to toss the small piece of erotic plastic in his gym bag; I took advantage of the brief opportunity to stare at his muscled torso and mounded crotch.

We talked about baseball and next week's game during the short ride to his house, where he parked at the far side of the driveway, leaving clear the approach to the two-car garage. We entered a side door and I was instructed to leave my shoes outside the door leading into the kitchen. "You don't want to hear mom go on about dragging dirt into the house," Chuck admonished as I followed his lead.

"No prob. Same drill at my house." We shared a laugh before making a beeline for the refrigerator. I was dying of thirst, but Chuck seemed to be racing against a clock and quickly downed his coke, followed by a loud belch.

Another laugh was interrupted by Chuck, "Dude, hurry up. I wanna show you something."

I took a final large gulp and placed the almost empty can on the counter and followed him, admiring his legs and ass as he led me upstairs to his room. Seemingly before I entered the room, he had shucked off his shorts and his shirt seemed to disappear as he closed the door behind me. Dressed in nothing more than his jockstrap and socks, he was the sexiest, most amazing thing I had ever seen. I was growing an incredible boner though I was also scared shitless. I knew what I wanted to do, but wasn't at all sure what I could or should do. Timidly glancing up at his face I saw an expression that seemed to say, what are you waiting for? though Chuck remained silent. Without trying to think through the situation, I responded to more primal needs and dropped to my knees, pressing my face into the ever-expanding bulge behind the elastic mesh of his jockstrap. My hands and mouth mauled his manhood before pulling the distended pouch aside unleashing his incredible bat and balls, which were moist with sweat and a bit of precum.

We moaned in unison as his cock slid into my mouth. Upon seeing him hard for the first time, I knew I couldn't swallow everything he had to offer, so I used my right hand to close the gap, while my left massaged his low-hangers. From the sounds he was making, I was encouraged into thinking that I was doing okay. His hands clasped the back of my head and he began to vigorously thrust his hips, basically skull-fucking me. I wasn't a seasoned cocksucker but wanted more than anything to make Chuck happy, so I choked back the tears and clamped my hand on his root to run interference as he neared his climax. I wanted it to end, while simultaneously wanting it to last forever when I heard a different sound from him just before he started to shoot. Buckets of cum seemed to spew from his balls, which had withdrawn from my caressing hand. Try as I might, there was no way I could take it all in and the excess leaked from my lips, down my chin and onto the floor.

"Fuck..." he muttered between gulps of air, attempting recover from his monstrous cum.

Taking advantage of his weakened state, I pushed him onto the bed, where his chest continued to heave with exertion. His cock was still half hard, so I figured it could be coaxed back to life with a little effort on my part, though I also imagined it was a little sensitive at the moment. I tore off my shirt and shorts before I crawled over him on hands and knees to begin round two. My tongue cleaned up the small bits of cum on his thigh and balls before cutting a wide berth around his cock, to arrive at his navel. After lavishing my attention to that sensitive area I continued up his chest and nipples, which were standing proudly on his pecs. After mauling the right one, I gave the left a quick nibble before darting up to his fragrant armpit. Every place my lips, tongue and teeth landed, Chuck responded with sighs, moans, a sharp intake of breath followed by a drawn-out hiss, a gasp and occasionally a whispered, breathy "Fuck!"

In much the same way that Chuck would change his pitch to keep a batter off balance, I darted from one delectable area of skin to another. Now that my head was about even with his I desperately wanted to kiss his handsome lips, but something told me not to go there. I opted for his neck and lapped at the prominent vein throbbing there. I avoided anything that might leave a mark but discovered that like me, the skin next to and inside his ear was extremely sensitive. I used something of a zigzag pattern to work my way back down his sculpted torso and this time Chuck let me know what he really liked by pressing my head into that particular area.

My own cock was hard and leaking the entire time, trapped in the confines of my sweaty jock. But of course, when I finally made my way back to Chuck's crotch, he was as hard as ever and leaking onto his sculpted stomach. I felt as proud and happy as if I'd just assisted in a triple play and let my tongue swipe Chuck's slimy head. I was about to swallow the portion I'd claimed as my own when Chuck pushed my head away. "Dude, that's so fucking awesome, but you haven't gotten off yet."

I was both surprised and pleased by Chuck's thoughtfulness, even though I would have gladly continued until he cried ‘stop!' "Don't worry," I said. "That'll happen quick enough when you slide that monster up my ass." I smiled at him, deliriously high on his pure physical beauty and sexual energy. My smile was met by a look of total surprise or confusion on Chuck's handsome face. It was the first time I'd ever seen him appear anything other than cool, confident and totally in charge. In any other circumstance I would probably have enjoyed seeing him a bit flummoxed, if only to prove that he really was human. Instead I was worried that I'd crossed some line and all hell would break loose. My smile immediately vanished and I started to panic, fearing that Chuck wasn't the player I had dared to imagine two days ago on that school bus. My cock began to soften as my body sagged into a sitting position between his slightly spread legs, his cock and balls almost touching mine.

"Dave...dude, I...never..." After a bit of stumbling Chuck explained that he had never done anything with a guy before except that he'd had his cock worshipped by a very talented cocksucker at baseball camp the previous summer. "Dave, he was the most amazing shortstop I've ever seen, but man, what that guy could do with his mouth and throat - unbelievable!" He paused for a minute before continuing. "I'm sorry, didn't mean to trick you into doing something you don't want to cuz I really like you Dave, and please don't think that I don't value your talents on the field. You're good." He paused and looked down at his throbbing dick and added, "Really good." He had a sly smile on his face and I began to smile too. "I know I...I shouldn't have presumed, but there was something about you that reminded me of Kirk...I guess my dick was doing all the thinking and the talking," he said with a snicker. "But he read you pretty good, huh?" (I noted that ‘rather well' would be grammatically more correct but couldn't help but smile in return.) Then he got serious and almost whispered, "Are you serious about fucking? I hear it's way better than pussy, but I never..." His voice trailed off.

Other than raging hormones, I was clueless as to how we had ended up in this situation. I'd never fucked anyone and had taken a dick in my butt only twice: both times by the same guy who I erroneously believed was my first-ever boyfriend. In comparison, Chuck looked huge; at least I understood the importance of prep and condoms. "Yeah, I'm serious, but you can't just put that thing in me like I'm some horny chick. The geography's a bit different and it's a bit more work. Kind of messy too." I sighed and was about to give up due to frustration and embarrassment but I was so horny: I just wanted to get down and dirty with him. A sly grin was plastered on his face, more fox in the henhouse than kid in the candy store.

Apparently horniness and hormones smoothed over most of our inhibitions as Chuck followed my instructions about lubing and stretching my hole. I don't know whether or not he was grossed out but he added lube and another finger each time I gave him the word. We were both wearing smiles: mine constrained by anxiety, Chuck's almost lascivious. I rolled onto my back while Chuck rolled on the latex cover and lubed it as well. A nervous chuckle escaped my lips when he wiped his slimy fingers on my belly but a shudder of fear and excitement ran through my body as he aligned his fat cock with my near-virgin hole. "Just be careful, okay?"

I was relieved to see his lust-glazed eyes focus on me for a moment. "I don't want to hurt you Dave, but god... I really want this! Just tell me if I'm doing something wrong. Don't be shy; okay buddy?" The tiniest of smiles and the concern in his eyes contrasted with the powerful anticipation coursing through his entire body. Realizing that I hadn't surrendered my rights as one half of a team, I gave him a simple nod and tried to relax.

I was glad that he closed his eyes in concentration as he pushed inward since that meant he couldn't see me grimace as he slowly made his way through my tight outer ring. A few tears escaped my eyes, but through the soft-focus of my wet eyes I saw a man more stunning than anything I could have dreamt. Seemingly, he tuned into what I was feeling as he slowed or stopped altogether at the appropriate moments. Eventually he was fully embedded and without me saying anything, he rested there as if to let me adjust to his size. It might have been necessary simply to keep him from losing it before the ride could even begin. Eventually he opened his eyes and looked at me. I think he was a bit embarrassed by the fact that his dick was in a guy's ass, but mostly he looked ecstatic and extremely sexy!

Despite my excitement and horniness, I was still pretty nervous about taking a pounding from the team's star player. He outweighed me by at least 35 pounds, was four or five inches taller, and had muscles everywhere, including the one resting in my ass. That particular muscle telegraphed his heartbeat to me and for whatever reason, I though of the way my dad's Camaro did a similar thing with its throaty rumble, which seemed to vibrate through the car as it idled. I gave him a quiet, "Okay." No doubt my face conveyed my concern, which presumably he was able to read. He began slowly, keeping an eye on me as pleasure continued to show on his face. He varied his pace and angle, as my ass adjusted and I was able to relax a bit more. I gasped when he hit my sweet spot and apparently he took note of that as he returned to that spot frequently. I smiled to think that he was such a considerate partner and for a brief moment pondered the lucky girls who had helped him hone his technique. At some point during the next 15 or 20 minutes, I crossed over to the other side and felt nothing but pleasure. I hadn't noticed that Chuck had actually pulled the pouch of my jock aside to free my raging boner or that he had me almost bent in half and was pounding away like a jack hammer. Only the tightening of my muscles and that peculiar tingle of impending release brought me back to consciousness just before my cock erupted. I'd never shot like that before as the first two volleys shot past my face and I wrapped my legs even more tightly around Chuck's waist. He released a guttural sound and pistoned himself into me at an even more frantic pace as he began to dump a load into the confines of the condom. My legs fell away just before he collapsed on top of me. His cock continued to throb in my ass while his heavy breathing echoed in my ear and warmed my neck; the sound was like music and his breath was like kisses.

Finally our bodies recovered and Chuck got off of me and off the bed. We were both bathed in sweat and our torsos were smeared with my jizz. "Damn, Dave! You sure make a mess," he said as he crossed to a towel hanging on his desk chair and started to wipe his chest and belly. "But that was fuckin' hot!" Then, almost as an aside he added, "If you let us win the rest of our games, I'll return the favor." He paused toweling himself long enough to slide off the condom and wipe his crotch before tossing the towel to me. I watched as he tied the loaded latex and hoped he wouldn't leave it some place it might be found. It was fantastic to watch him, though my mind was trying to process what he had just said. "I'm gonna take a shower; be right back." And with that he left the room, still naked; I watched his ass until he disappeared down the hall.

After several minutes he returned with a damp towel draped over his head and shoulders, drying his hair. Unlike the situation in the locker room, I felt safe to stare at his exposed body. Not only did he look incredibly sexy, he also looked happy, relaxed and satiated. I was very relieved to see no sign of remorse or guilt on his handsome face. "The bathroom's just down the hall, first door on your left." Apparently he read my face as I fiddled with the cum soaked towel, wanting to cover my nakedness before venturing out of his room. "Don't worry. The folks aren't home yet."

He was dressed in a fresh tee and shorts when I returned with my towel securely wrapped around my waist. "Hey, I'll give you some clean clothes to wear."

"Thanks, but I'll wear my own stuff," I replied.

"But you just showered," he returned with a confused look on his face.

Of course his clothes would have swallowed me before sliding off, but I had other considerations. "It might look kinda...a...suspicious if I show up in clean clothes; I went out to practice, remember? I think I'll walk home, just to work up a little sweat." I could practically see the wheels turning in his head before he smiled.

"Yeah, I hadn't thought about that," he said with a snicker.

"You keep pitching and I'll handle public relations," I said with a smile. We walked to the garage to get my shoes.

"You can leave your stuff in my car unless you think you'll need it before tomorrow." He was wearing one of his million dollar smiles.

"Perfect! Why didn't I think of that?"

He just shrugged his shoulders. "Thanks Dave. I'm glad we got some practice in this afternoon. We should do it again. We've got some pretty stiff competition for the remaining games and we can't afford not to win!"

"No problem," I quietly replied and started down the walk. His comments were so loaded with double entendre that I didn't know if he was talking about baseball or sex. My mind continued to race as I walked home and was glad to find it quiet and empty. A note on the kitchen counter told me that the rest of the family had gone to the movies and what time they expected to return. I grabbed something to eat before going to soak my sore butt in a tub of warm water.

The last few weeks of school rushed by and the baseball team managed to win every one of the remaining games, but never with the ease of my first varsity game against Marshall. Chuck was right; those final games were grueling. But excitement ran high the night we won the final game of the season. Even though the official results wouldn't be announced until the following week, everyone knew we would be going to the regional playoffs; something our school hadn't accomplished for a long time. Chuck, Eric and a couple of the other superstars were mobbed at the door to the locker room after that final win. Representatives from the school and the local newspaper were among the throng of enthusiasts. I watched from the sidelines, basking in the overflow of adulation being heaped upon the stars.

In the school parking lot, Chuck grabbed my ass as he unlocked the car. "Get in back and get your pants off," he commanded, his excitement evident. I knew what he had in mind, and a surge of adrenalin and testosterone seemed to stoke the rush of victory still running through my body. I climbed into the back seat, ripped off my clothes and from the dark, watched in awe as Chuck stripped in the open doorway. (I had to smile when I noticed he wasn't wearing his boxers beneath his shorts and thought how ballsey and erotic it was to think of Chuck greeting fans and the press while commando, apparently he planned our tryst before he got dressed in the locker room.) His complete nonchalance to the fact that he was stripping naked in the school parking lot really made my dick start leaking. He was so beautiful and so at ease with his body.

He climbed into the back seat and closed the door. I felt his hand slide up my thigh and almost immediately he opened a sachet of lube and began working my butt. I sensed his urgency - well mine too, and hoped he would be as considerate as his hormones would allow. It wasn't long before he sheathed his cock and started in on my ass. This would only be our third time, but the excitement of winning the final game and doing it in the backseat of his car, had me excited too. I had to place a hand on the car door above my head to keep it from being slammed into the armrest every time Chuck thrust into me. He was like a wild man, but finally I took both hands and pressed them against his sweaty chest, pushing him away. "Easy, bro! If you break it you can't play with it later."

His eyes were glazed with lust, so it took a few moments for him to actually focus on my words and me. "Ah, sorry... did I hurt you?" he asked.

"Not exactly," I answered, still skewered on his prong. "But if you slowed down a bit, maybe we could both enjoy the ride." (I didn't mention the fact that since we had won all the remaining games, I should be riding his ass.)

"Sorry," was all he said before he began a second time; now his focus and rhythm included me, not just getting himself off. When we climaxed almost simultaneously, my heel dug into his ass crack, while my other leg squeezed his waist, causing him to moan and spurt once again; my cock could no longer spurt, but offered up another serving of sticky fluid. Fuck, that was amazing!

Chuck collapsed on top of me and his warm breath felt almost like kisses as his breathing calmed. I placed a hand on his back and one on his head and stroked him gently. His cock was still in my ass and I could have died content at that moment. Reluctantly I released him, as Chuck revived and pushed himself up, his softened cock followed suit. He looked at our sticky chests and smiled. I could only smile in return. From somewhere he produced a t-shirt and wiped our bodies clean before he opened the car door and stepped outside. He slipped off the condom and I secretly cringed as he tossed it into the bushes. I never stopped to consider that his was probably joining others, which had previously been discarded there. He pulled on his shorts and encouraged me to do likewise. "C'mon. I'm starving; let's get something to eat!" I continued to be amazed at how quickly he turned things off and on as I struggled to find my clothes in the darkness of the back seat.

In no time we were passing through the drive thru to pick up our food. The pimply-faced teen who handed the packages to Chuck and took his money, seemed to ignore us; I couldn't blame him, it was just minutes before closing time. Chuck parked on the street just beyond the restaurant parking lot and we scarffed down burgers and fries. We mostly ate in silence and didn't say much during the short ride to my house. When he stopped in front of my house I said. "Pull up, so we're not in the streetlight." He eased the car forward until it was shaded by a large tree and shifted into park. He placed his arm on the seatback, looked at me and said. "What?"

I reached over and pinched his right nipple, before moving to the left and placing my mouth on the first one; he moaned. As my hand traveled down his tight stomach he inhaled at the precise moment I reached his waistband allowing me to continue toward my goal. There were more appreciative sounds as I squeezed his half-hard cock. My face was mashed against his chest as his right arm leaned forward to turn off the car and then down to undo his shorts. I pulled back long enough to allow him to lose his single garment and reposition himself. (I surprised myself by initiating this but I guess it was just being in the car with a hot guy who was practically naked, that got me going.) Now that he was naked I got down on his dick, accompanied by appreciative sounds from Chuck. His right leg was beside me on the seat, so I had full access to his balls, which I also licked and sucked. I let my fingers tease the soft spot behind them and when he tilted his hips I got bolder and teased his crinkled pucker. Admittedly Chuck and I had only been doing things together for a couple weeks, but I had yet to find a spot on his body that he didn't like having stroked, licked or tweaked. It was like his entire body was one massive erogenous zone. (Of course, I was still working under the assumption that his mouth was off limits.)

Chuck shot a huge load in my mouth and I reached over the seat to grab my bag, while he recovered. I was just taking in his beauty, waiting to say bye. He opened his eyes and smiled big time. "Dude..." he said before reaching out to catch a bit of cum still on my chin. He held the finger in front of me and I just opened my mouth and licked it clean. We both laughed. He was still naked when he started the car and drove away.

Monday morning the school was buzzing with the news. I thought it rather odd that nothing was mentioned during the morning announcements and started to feel that same uneasiness I felt when the umpire had called "safe". I guess it was possible that some team had a better season, but I doubted that since we kept close tabs on the competition. About 10 minutes into sixth period, the principal's voice came over the speaker system. He apologized for the interruption and went on to announce proudly that he had just received official confirmation that the varsity team would represent our district in the regional playoffs. None of my teammates were in the class, but two classmates from the JV team turned around to give me a thumbs up. Even Ms. Davis, who I thought surely knew nothing about school sports acknowledged me from the front of the room. She allowed the renewed buzz to envelop the room for a couple minutes before she resumed the lesson.

Practice was brutal that week on top of which I was studying for finals and finishing projects; I even had a couple textbooks stashed in my bag as we boarded the bus early the following Saturday morning. Two pairs of teams played simultaneously in the first round of eliminations and the two winning teams went up against each other in the second round. We managed to win both games, which meant we would be advanced to the semi-finals. The bus was like one big telephone conversation as almost everyone was calling family and friends with the news. I borrowed Chuck's phone to call my folks and then tried to study but it was useless; I pulled out my iPod and was soon asleep.

A week later, we were boarding another bus for the final competition. Eight teams would compete in the first round of the semi-finals and the four remaining teams would battle against each other in the afternoon; the championship game would be played the next day. Of course the school district provided the bus, but there was such a buzz surrounding the chance of a championship win, that local businesses and parent groups raised the money to pay for food and lodging, meaning that none of the team's members or their parents were required to subsidize the trip. Of course we would only be staying at a standard motel and we had to share rooms. (Somehow I ended up sharing with Chuck, so I had no complaints what so ever.) We won the first playoff with a handsome margin but narrowly lost our second game. Obviously we were disappointed but the motel was already paid for so we knew we would stay to watch the championship game the next day.

After dinner I was sprawled out on my bed channel surfing, while Chuck was doing his thing in the bathroom. I had intentionally changed into a pair of red boxer briefs, not knowing if Chuck would even acknowledge them when he emerged from the bathroom. When he did appear with a freshly washed face and a damp towel around his shoulders he glanced at the television before even looking at me. I, of course was watching him, noting that the towel and his boxers did little to obscure his male perfection.

"Anything worth watching?" he asked and tossed the towel onto a nearby chair, before sitting next to me on the bed.

I pretended to focus on the television and replied, "No, not really. Just the usual crap, unless you want to go downstairs and pay for the premium channels." I snickered to myself, half imagining that Chuck would opt to plunk down the cash or a credit card so we could watch some porn. But the sneer vanished from my face when I felt his large hand on my crotch.

"This is sort of like waving a red flag in front of a bull, isn't it, Dave?" he asked as his hand massaged my growing mound. His eyebrow rose momentarily and a tiny smile crossed his lips; his eyes were definitely sparkling. (Inside my head, I checked myself for thinking that I could actually lead Chuck anywhere he didn't intended to go, while sliding my hand up his muscled thigh. I had hoped to slip my hand up the leg of his boxers, but his spread-leg position had the fabric tightly wrapped around his thigh and growing cock.) I responded with a weak smile as my hand clasped his covered meat.

It all started out so playfully. There wasn't any kissing, but we caressed and stroked and tweaked the other's body before Chuck sat back and told me that he was ready to make good on his promise from earlier in the season. Chuck was offering me his ass!?!?! I had dreamed about it for so long that now I wasn't sure I even wanted it. I mean, of course I wanted it, who wouldn't? But by this time Chuck meant more to me than just a quick fuck. I really cared about him, about us, if there even was such a thing as us.

" don't have to. I mean...ah, Chuck. I really tried to win those games for you, for the team, not just so I could..." my voice faltered.

"It's okay, Dave. I know you put everything you had into every game...without reservation or promise of a reward. You played way better than I ever expected." He smiled and there was the tiniest flush of color in his face as if he was almost embarrassed to acknowledge me, but then his hand squeezed my aching cock and I wasn't sure if he was referring to my performance on the ball field or in his bed.

"Thanks," I said squirming under his ministrations. "But I..."

"And I always keep my word. It's one of the few things I learned from my dad." He said as he squeezed my hard-on as if to underscore his words. "Besides, you always seem to enjoy it so I'm thinking that maybe I'm missing out on something good." His face had the most mischievous grin and I couldn't help but smile back at him as my cock continued to leak into the red cotton.

"Well, if you're sure..." I worried that he would chicken out or that I might not be able to do it now that the moment was here.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he said with typical self-assurance as he stood and pulled off his boxers, revealing his cock swollen to the max and crowned with sticky wetness. His body transfixed me, until he interrupted by tugging at my briefs and asked. "So what do you want me to do?"

I lifted my hips, allowing him to remove my red briefs, still concerned that he was turning the tables by putting me in charge. " Get over here and...oh..." (Damn! He was!) "Lie down on the bed..." I said getting up to make way for him. Despite my earlier concerns about performance, my dick was harder than steel as he stretched out prone on the bed with his legs slightly spread. My mouth was probably hanging open at the sight of his ass displayed before me, which also included a bit of his hefty ball sack. "The stuff is in the front pouch of my backpack," he said, slightly muffled by the pillow. I fumbled with the zipper until I retrieved the contents: condoms and lube. My cock throbbed and my nervousness mounted as I approached his amazing ass.

I stopped short of rimming him but I did kiss and massage his muscular cheeks before lubing a finger and massaging his hole. Perhaps he was only humoring me, but he allowed my ass play and actually emitted several soft moans as I worked my way up to actually inserting a lubed finger in his ass. I never doubted that his ass was virgin territory, but his larger body size made my finger a more plausible intruder and he grunted his discomfort only after I exchanged my index finger for my middle finger. However, it was this digit that found his secret button and he actually bucked against me when I rubbed against it. I had introduced both fingers and was massaging his hole when he indicated his impatience. "C'mon, what are you waiting for?" My own cock had softened ever so slightly as I was concentrating on Chuck's needs. I added more lube and another finger.

"Jeez Dave; are you gonna fuck me or just play all night?" I was taken aback. I wanted this more than anything but was afraid of hurting Chuck lest he hurt me in return. Immediately my dick softened a bit more. He turned his head and shoulders to face me and must have read the concern and confusion on my face, which darted from his perfect ass to his perfect face. Like the team captain he was, the annoyance left his face and he asked me what he should do next. I somehow managed to suggest that being his first time he might want to start on top.

The anticipation brought on by Chuck crawling on the bed above me stiffened my dick like never before; still I was so nervous that Chuck actually unrolled the rubber and lubed my cock, which felt great! He grabbed my dick, aligned his ass and slowly lowered himself until I finally had the presence of mind to say. "Take your time, go slow. Push out like you're taking a dump; it helps." And that is just what he did. Most of the time his eyes were closed in concentration, but mine were fixed on his face, though occasionally I'd allow my eyes to glance down his torso to his cock, which was still mostly hard. His face evidenced some discomfort but he was beautiful nonetheless, as sweat appeared on his brow and chest.

Near ecstasy, I hunched my hips and forced the last inch of my rod into his hole before he could settle, making contact with his special spot. He grunted and his eyes snapped open. "You fucker!" he said slapping my taut chest, teasing my left nipple. Then he was still, as he adjusted to the bat in his butt; I wasn't as long as Chuck but mine was at least as wide. I was grateful for the interlude, as I was about to shoot when he tweaked my nipple. We were both breathing rather loudly as his ass and my cock adjusted to an entirely new set of sensations. Finally he began to slowly rotate his hips and we both groaned until eventually he began to raise and lower himself on my throbbing cock. Despite his beauty, I closed my eyes and immersed myself in the pleasure he was giving me. Finally he stopped and I groaned. "Dude! Why am I doing all the work?" I opened my eyes to see his torso covered with a sheen of perspiration; his cock was hard and at that moment he appeared to be the personification of hot male sex.

I couldn't find words, but managed to get him on his back with me on top, as my cock eagerly sought his hot ass. We settled into a rhythm until my body went ballistic and started slamming Chuck's ass for all I was worth. My force and stamina surprised even me as I pushed onward to the biggest climax of my life. We were moaning, grunting and sweating as we approached the end. Chuck cried out as a blast of cum sprayed onto my chest. The warm wetness and the subsequent tightening of his chute pushed me over the edge and I began to unload into the condom, while Chuck's load decorated both our bodies. We were both still squirting when I collapsed onto his muscled form. My cock remained hard and stayed inside Chuck for some time. It softened and fell away only after my breathing had started to settle and my mouth and face were pressed tightly against Chuck's throat, where my tongue lapped at his smooth, hot skin.

Eventually we rose, quickly showered together and settled into the other bed, which was still fresh. We didn't kiss or cuddle, but lay side by side; I made sure my hand and foot were touching Chuck's.

I was the first to awake the next morning and still a bit high from the previous night's sex, I settled into giving Chuck a morning blowjob. His cock was more than receptive but soon a warm mouth surrounded my equally eager cock. Chuck's technique lacked finesse but I was thrilled that he was even attempting this. Before last night, I'd done all the sucking and Chuck had done all the fucking! This was all new to me, at least with regard to Chuck. I had my doubts, but I wanted this to never end. After a massive morning cum, showering and breakfast, we checked out of our room and joined the others on the bus for the short ride to the stadium. Despite the fact that this was the state final, the bleachers were strangely vacant, which hinted at how insignificant high school ball was relative to college or major league ball.

Chuck frequently shifted in the hard plastic seat, as I smiled inwardly knowing that his ass was a bit sore from last night's activity. (We'd only done it a few times and I was always a bit sore after the fact.) Despite the fact that his discomfort was obvious to me, he never complained, and I had to admire him yet again, for being true to his word. The second inning was well underway when Chuck mentioned he had to take a leak. I wasn't quite at that point...yet, but decided to follow him to the restroom rather than wait until later. We stood at adjacent urinals and drained our bladders. Apparently my need was greater than I realized as I was still pissing a strong stream when Chuck half-whispered, "What the fuck?" I almost pissed on my shoe as I turned my attention towards Chuck.

He had taken a half step back and his thick fingers were teasing his half hard cock. It continued to grow as I watched until I raised my gaze to meet his. "Dude, could you help a brother out? I gotta nut before this puppy will settle down." He gave me a sheepish grin and headed towards the handicap stall.

I wasn't aware of ever signaling my consent, but as soon as I drained my bladder I zipped up and hit the flush lever. His shorts and boxers were already hanging on the hook inside the door as I approached the stall. He pulled the hem of his shirt up over his head and slapped my ass as I stepped inside. I was nervous as hell but surprisingly excited to be doing this in such a public space. I was getting into a rhythm when I head voices announcing the fact that others had arrived to use the facilities, probably for their originally intended purpose. I eased off Chuck's cock and gave his balls some oral attention during the interlude. Water running at the sinks and paper towels being ripped from the dispenser were soon followed by silence so I returned to Chuck's steely cock. I don't know if our semi-public display did anything for him, but his cock definitely seemed harder and fatter when I returned it to my mouth. I guess I was more concerned about discovery as my own stiffy had subsided considerably. It wasn't long before he was feeding me a load more copious than the one that filled my mouth just hours earlier.

He teased my butt while I was bent over at the sinks splashing my face and rinsing my mouth. My own cock stiffened as I imagined us returning to the stall so Chuck could give my ass a serious fucking, but when the paper towel cleared my eyes, Chuck's face revealed that playtime was least for today. We returned to our seats and at the bottom of the 5th inning Chuck indicated that it was time to go. (I was already aware of the fact that he would be meeting a taxi to take him to the airport to rendezvous with his parents so as to be present for his sister's graduation. She was graduating with honors and had been accepted into the medical program at a prestigious school on the East Coast.)

After Chuck's departure, the remainder of the game seemed to drag. Eventually we boarded the bus for home and I'll admit I felt a little lost without my "friend" in proximity. (As the bus rolled down the highway I wondered if the incident in the bathroom was Chuck's declaration that he was the ‘top' in our relationship, though I still had no idea if what we shared was a relationship. I sighed at the thought that Chuck probably considered me to be a convenient, temporary solution for an on-going need. Argh!)

There was no ticker tape parade, but there was an amazingly large congregation waiting at the school when the bus arrived: parents and siblings, cheerleaders, girlfriends and classmates and that indefatigable reporter from the school paper. I was particularly surprised to see that most of the pep band was also on hand, given the late hour. I scanned the band and sure enough, Nick was there, beating his snare drum mercilessly. He is a very talented drummer and was thoroughly engrossed in embellishing the school theme song, so it was easy to sneak up on him. The band concluded the fight-song to appreciative applause, while pausing long enough to allow the cheerleaders a chance to perform a routine. I placed my hands on his shoulders and gently kissed his neck; anyone watching would have thought I was whispering into his ear. Nick was my very best friend and had come out to me last summer, just before the school year began. (I was too timid to do more than drop a ton of hints.)

Nick's body shivered slightly at the kiss. He sort of giggled as he turned saying, "Aaron! What are you doing...?" As his eyes discovered me, his pleased expression turned to one of complete surprise. "Dave?... What...what are you...?" he asked, while I just stupidly smiled at my friend. "I thought you were Aaron," he said, staring at me as his mind switched gears from music to me. He studied my grin for several moments until he smiled in return stating. "Fuck, Dave. You got laid!" Then, as he seemingly surveyed the crowd he added, "And by some baseball jock, you sexy horn dog. I hope you at least kept it close to home and didn't give it up to the competition." He smiled broadly before adding, "Dave, I don't care who the dude was. You're way too cute to be left sitting on the bench. Congratulations!" With his drumsticks he pounded a couple bars on my firm chest before he pushed his drum aside and pulled me into a hug; quite unexpectedly we were kissing, with my tongue stretching into his mouth. He returned the gesture before he pulled back, breathing a bit hard. "Damn Dave, when did you learn to kiss like that? If it wasn't for Aaron, you'd be coming home with me tonight!" he whispered. We both laughed and I felt a bit of relief. Without confirming Nick's assumption, we silently admitted that what he assumed was true. The band teacher blew his whistle, ordering the group to come to order and Nick was soon banging away on his drum. I spotted my parents and we were soon headed home. I mostly ignored them and basked in my euphoria. I laughed to myself that I had gotten sex from Chuck and kisses from Nick; I was either totally blessed or totally screwed.

To be continued