Date: Sun, 27 Jun 2021 20:31:22 +0000 From: encolpius1 Subject: Every Man Needs a Boy part 3 EVERY MAN NEEDS A BOY By Encolpius Author's Note: Skyborn helped make the baseball parts more understandable. Thanks to him and Gacha_Blue. Feedback is always appreciated. Write to encolpius1@protonmail.com DONATE! DONATE! DONATE I told Sam after the first inning. Then I told him after the second inning. When the runner reached first in the third inning, I lost my shit with him. I was in the dugout, only it's not a dugout, it's like a shed with a chain link fence around it. I walked past the front opening. "Sam! I've told you already!" I said, half way to the foul line. "Quit staying back on grounders. Quit playing back. Quit throwing flat footed. Break toward the ball on grounders. Use your momentum. Play smart!" He looked a little wounded, hurt. Immediately, I regretted calling him out like that. He looked like he was going to cry for a second, just a second, but then he sucked it up. He punched his glove and crouched down like he was ready but he stole a look my way. Just to see if I was looking at him. He was light on his feet, rocking back and forth. It's a bad habit and I will break him of it. If you are leaning the wrong way when the ball is hit, you're fucked. But one thing at a time. The next batter hit a slowish roller towards second base. Sam was already moving in that direction and fielded it like a champ. He tagged second base then threw the ball to first and got the double play. He had the kid by half a mile. He put some zip on it. A lot harder than he had to. And the first baseman caught it, with a loud crack as the ball hit leather. The third out was a grounder directly to short. This time Sam played it right. He charged the ball, fielded it, transferred it and threw it all in one smooth motion. When that happens it's like fucking. Like perfect hot nasty sex. Man, it's sweet. Perfect. Beauty in motion. So, it's not like fucking, scratch that. You know what I mean. It's like ballet or some shit. Sam had a broad grin on his face as he trotted over. "See Coach! I did it like you said." "Good job." Burns said "Good hustle." "When you're 16, you'll be able to throw it flat footed to first. But when you are 16, your coach is going to ask who it was that taught you how to be a good player." I said. "You, Coach Tyler!" he said with a big grin. The joy of boyhood, I guess. The perfection of it. It's an ordinary play but it's the first time he's really done it the way it ought to be done. It's like losing your cherry. And that's the coolest thing in the world. Sam was the 4th batter up after that. We had him batting in the 2 hole and he grounded out to third. When he came over to put up the bat and grab his glove, I caught him. "Sam, you didn't hit the ball. The bat didn't hit the ball. The ball hit the bat." I said. "Yeah, it stings when you hit it. But the best part of the swing is swinging through the ball. It's the follow through. That's what makes good hitters. Suck it up. It stings. Be a man. Don't be a pussy, okay?" "Okay, Coach." he said, a little quietly. Then he looked up. "Do you like rockets?" "What?" "Rockets, like space." "I guess." I said. He nodded. "I do too." I swatted him on his fanny. "Go get 'em" His tight little fanny. Firm. We won the game. Sam struck out his third time up but got the winning RBI on his fourth time. 1 for 4 with an RBI. For some stupid reason, I had a little notebook and I was keeping his stats. On Tuesday night he went 2 for 3 with a run scored. He made an error but it was a tough hop and he's only 9. It would have been a tough hop for a big leaguer, too. He managed the hop but bobbled the ball just a little and then didn't have the arm strength to make it right. Four years from now, he would have made the out. But he's just a kid. I took him home after the game. I stopped and let him out but I didn't walk him to the door. I really didn't want to see his foster mother. Burns came to me late Thursday to tell me Sam couldn't come on Saturday. I asked why not. "His parents, well foster parents I guess, have to go out of town Saturday and there's no one to look after Sam." "He can stay with me." I said. "Good. I have their number." Burns said. It was exactly what he wanted me to say. He was prepared. I took note of that. Always know what you want and be prepared in case of success. When I got there the mother was the same bitch I remembered from before. "Oh, it's you. Well, whatever. Out of our hair for a little while. You can keep him late on Sunday but he has school on Monday. Just bring him back a virgin, will ya stud?" "Yeah, don't worry." I said to the fat cow bitch. I could have beat the shit our of her. It's not like her fat lump of a husband would have done anything. He was planted on the couch watching Fox News. I took him back to my place and he got dressed, looking all cute in his white pants and team jersey. He was amped up and excited, talking about what we could do afterwards. I promised him pizza. Then I suggested a movie and asked him what he wanted to see. "Star Wars!" he said, swishing his make believe light saber around, making the noise. "When I was little, I really liked the Narnia books. Maybe we could watch one of those." I said. He gave an exaggerated shrug. I'm guessed he never heard of it. But it was a plan. Star Wars was cool enough. Having a kid meant I wasn't going out but it didn't really matter, I don't guess. At any rate, Sam pitched and did well. He went 5-2/3 innings, giving up 2 hits and walked 2. The one run he gave up was unearned. The kid reached base on an error. He was doing well but the pitch count got him. So he moved to short and we ended up winning 4-2. Sam got an RBI and scored a run. I wanted to be careful not overpraise him or make too big a deal about winning. Baseball keeps you humble, and he should never think of himself as just an athlete. But the kid was happy and I was too. We went to Your Pie and got pizza. He ate like a starving man, attacking the food. I don't know if it was just growing boy hungry or if they don't really feed him much. It's not like those fatasses are going without. We went back to my place and I ordered a Star Wars movie. From time to time Sam had to get up during the action scenes and help them out, acting out the fights, while I laughed at him. After that, I told him he had to go take a shower and then we would watch another movie. My apartment is laid out weird. The one bathroom isn't off the bedroom. It opens onto the main room. I was watching Sports Center when Sam came streaking out of the bathroom, naked as a jaybird, to get to his sleep clothes in his backpack. He's skinny. You could count the ribs but he was healthy and energetic. Everything was slender and boney and constantly in motion but he wasn't embarassed getting dressed in front of me. And I got another good full look at it. It. Them. I felt a bit of stirring down there, a little bit of heat and electricity, totally involuntary. He was amped up when I put on The Lion, the Witch and The Wardrobe. He fairly quickly got into the story. He cuddled up next to me and I draped an arm around him. He watched the movie and didn't move. Then when the White Witch gave Edmund the Turkish Delight, Sam cried out "Noooo. She's mean!" At the end of it, he looked up at me and said, "I liked that one!" "Who was your favorite?" I asked. He thought about it and then said, "Edmund". "Because he started off bad and turned good?" I questioned. He thought about it for another second and said "Mmm Hmmm" but I wondered if it was really because the young actor was good looking. He could have been a 14 year old me, I guess. We're both black haired but his eyes are brown to my green. If he did think Skandar Keynes cute, he didn't say. I told him that there were other books and movies and he made me promise that we would watch Prince Caspian the next time he slept over. My first thought was whether I wanted him to sleep over. But then I realized I did. It was fun having him around, seeing the world through his eyes. It cut into my more adult fun but it was okay, once in a while. I could swing it. Just not all the time. He was sleepy so I made him a bed on the couch. There was more light streaming in from outside than I wanted for the kid to be able to sleep but there wasn't anything I could do. Besides, he was zonked. I put him down on the couch and resisted the urge to give him a kiss. He did look like an angel though. Fair skin, with a few freckles, unblemished skin, perfect features. A little compact body like a tensed spring forever on the verge of snapping back. Action in motion but now he's settled down to sleep. In my bed, alone, horny and hard, I fought the temptation that came on me. The temptation to think about him in that way. I recoiled from it. I couldn't. I wouldn't. I mustn't. I finally struggled off to sleep. The door opened and I woke up. Well, I was half awake, in a fugue state. "Coach?" a high pitched boyish voice, hesitant. "Can I sleep with you?" "Yeah, Sam, come on." I heard myself say. He got into my queen bed and snuggled up against me, his small body nestled next to mine and he settled in. I couldn't sleep now. Not with him pressed against me like that. I was in boxers and no shirt. He was in a long T shirt and briefs. I put my arm around him and he snuggled in next to me even more. I gave him a little kiss on the cheek. I listened for the rhythmic breathing of his sleep before I finally drifted off. My dreams were about him. Him and me. Us together. Having fun, laughing. Doing things together. Hugging, kissing. Sam told me he loved me and I heard myself in my dreams tell him that I loved him. Kissing and hugging. More than kissing and hugging. Naked and scrawny and bony, nothing but sharp points and skin over small boyish muscles but it was the most erotic thing I had ever seen. He is beautiful. He is desirable. Oh God! I woke up hard. My erection pressed against his firm preteen little ass. A raging hard on. I wanted to move it against his body. I wanted to put it in his body. I shifted to get myself out of bed and woke Sam up. "Mmmm" he moaned before yawning hard, fighting wakefulness. Then he stretched and came awake. But it was like a light switch. From asleep to live wire in seconds. He flopped over and was facing me. "Hey, there!" he grinned. "Hey." He rubbed his hands on my chest, letting the hair go through his fingers. "You're all hairy! You think I will be when I'm big?" "I don't know, maybe. A lot of guys are." "Mmm hmm" he said, nodding. "Can I call you Tyler? I mean, just when it's me and you, and then Coach when it's not but we are special friends just me and you?" "Sure. We can be special friends." He looked down. "I wish I could get a haircut. Like yours. Short. Like you. But I don't have any money." "I think we can work something out. Maybe you can do chores or something and pay me back." He smiled and nodded. "Hey, Tyler!" he said, bouncing up on his knees and pulling up his shirt. "I have a stiffie, too! You wanna see?" He yanked down his briefs just for a second. And then he laughed uproariously, like it was the funniest joke in the world. I told him to go pee and he bounded up and headed off for the bathroom at full speed. I had to process it. His stiff hard dick, pointed straight up, stiff as a board, the piss vein big and prominent, the head of his cock fiery red, small underdeveloped balls. My God. It was beautfiul. A perfect dick. Perfect in every way just in miniature. A perfect dick on a perfect boy's body. The next morning in the shower, I had to rub one out. Just to get it out of my head. I stroked myself fast and furiously, fairly wishing the load out. The hot water cascaded down on me as I beat off. I was weak in the knees as I came. We had breakfast and then we looked at model rockets online. I was in my chair at the desk top and he stood in front of me between my legs as I hugged him. He grabbed the mouse out of my hand and clicked away. We discussed this one and that one till we finally decided. I clicked and bought a model rocket from a hobby site for $24.99. "Now I have to stay with you again, Tyler!" he said, brightly. "Right?" "Yeah, that's right." He smiled and nodded. It was like I was giving him the greatest gift. If he but knew. At noon, I took him to Sports Clips and we got him a haircut. A #5 guard and the golden locks fell away. But he was pleased with how he looked at the end. The foster mom was less happy. "Who said you could cut his hair?" she demanded, shrilly. "He wanted a haircut and I paid for it, what's the big deal?" "The big deal is that he's not your kid and you don't get to decide, that's the big deal, big stud. I've got your number. I can see right through you." she said. There was real malevolence in her voice. "That's the thing about hair." I said. "It grows back." "You can't make a boy go straight after he's gone gay though, can you?" "I don't know what you mean." "Yeah, you do stud. You know exactly what I mean." she said. My heart raced. I was sweaty. She saw through me. Not that she cared for the kid. Not at all. She was working an angle and I was the mark. I could only wonder how shitty Sam's life was Monday through Friday. I suddenly determined that on Satuday and Sunday his life would be everything it should be. I could do that for him.