Date: Sat, 22 Jun 2013 19:01:13 -0700 From: K Moreno Subject: First Pitch - Chapters 3-4-5 This story is a work of fiction. Any comparisons to real people or places is completely coincidental. The work contains depictions of sex acts by/among consenting adult men. If this offends you, or it's illegal for you to read this where you live, please move on to more appropriate content. If you have any questions or comments, feel free to email me at niftysouthpaw@gmail.com. This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. The great people at Nifty rely on donations to keep the site going for our enjoyment. Please consider a contribution to Nifty. Thank you - KM http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ============================ First Pitch by K. Moreno Chapters 3-4-5 ============================ Chapter 3 Another morning, another physical therapy appointment. At first, the progress came in big strides. Now a year removed from the most recent surgery, Lance's progress wasn't a day to day thing as much as it was a slow, often frustrating, grind. Lance had known far weaker Marines than the four-foot-nine task master physical therapist. She challenged every physical boundary he knew. Reconstructing his lower left leg in the hospital had only seemed like the tough part. There were no pain thresholds in her world. When the grueling session was over, Lance stopped and got a cup of coffee. It wasn't worth driving home between physical therapy and his appointment with the psychologist but there was enough time to be bored between appointments. Parked under a large shade tree, he sipped the coffee and tried to get pain off his mind. The usually dull pain in his left leg was always worse after therapy and this was a bad morning. Shifting positions in the driver's seat offered no relief. The baseball glove still sat in the passenger seat of Lance's truck. He didn't want to steal it, or keep it. But he wasn't sure how to return it and every time he started to think about it, his thoughts drifted to things he'd like to do with the ball player, not simply returning the glove. After his appointment with the psychologist, he found himself parked in front of the stadium, talking to the rear view mirror. First, he tried: "Hi. I didn't mean to take this with me, but I freaked out and left." Then: "Hi. I'm the jack ass that ran off with your glove. I thought you might want it back." Lance shook his head. "As you can probably tell, I'm not much of a ball player so I thought I should give this back." Maybe he doesn't like self-depreciation? Then he rehearsed honesty. "Sorry. I didn't mean to take this, but it gave me an excuse to see you again." Or what he really wished: "If I give you your glove back, can I suck your cock?" Lance shook his head. "My luck, he's got a wife, two kids a dog and goes to the same church as my mother." He took a deep breath and walked up to the stadium office, glove in hand. The door was locked. He peered inside the door and didn't see anyone. Rattling the door didn't draw anyone out. Then there was a voice behind him. "Can I help you?" Lance turned around to see a man in a maintenance jumpsuit and ball cap approaching. "Hi. Um. I was hoping to catch one of the players. I need to return something to him." The man chuckled. "Can't help you with that one today, son. Team's on the road until a week from tomorrow." "Oh." Lance paused. "I hadn't thought about that. Do you know when the best time to catch one of them would be?" "Just depends on the day and the guy. Some of them start coming in around mid-day. Others late afternoon." The man turned and started to walk away. Lance slowly walked back to his truck and tossed the glove back into the passenger seat. Chapter 4 A half mile down the road from the team's budget motel, Colby anxiously waited outside a diner. Would the guy show up? And if he did, would he be the same guy in the pics? Was it worth it? He had cash, a room key and a couple condoms in his pocket. He hadn't had sex in a couple months, and judging by the small towns in the league there wouldn't be much chance the rest of the season. Colby lived by a set of rules around baseball that mostly compartmentalized his sexuality. Where ever the team he played for was based, he didn't date or hook up in that town. In seven seasons as a minor league ball player, that had been ten cities (though some of them only briefly). On the road, if he could get from the team's hotel or motel to a discreet rendezvous point, he occasionally hooked up. Relationships were generally limited to the off season given his schedule and the fact that he was not out as a ball player. He always reminded himself that some of his straight teammates hooked up with reckless abandon. One of his teammates a couple seasons before even brought women back to their shared room. But he tortured himself with a cloak and dagger routine, seeking the occasional mobile, discreet guy who could host or get to a secluded spot and get him back to the neighborhood around the hotel before anybody cared that he wasn't around. "Joe" was supposed to show up at midnight in a white car. And if the pics were accurate, "Joe" was mid-20s, 5'9, 160 pounds with brown hair and brown eyes. Colby hoped half of it was accurate and that Joe was as eager to suck cock in person as he was in their e-mail conversation. Colby knew the odds. It seemed as if half the gay guys in the world knew the experience of meeting up with somebody who looked nothing like the pictures they had traded. And for the guy to flake entirely? 50-50 odds of that, too. Colby checked the time on his phone. 12:07. Just a blow job. A long, wet, very good blow job. It was all he needed. Sure, he'd go for more if there was chemistry between him and the guy. 12:09. "Dammit," Colby muttered aloud. He didn't want to jack off in the motel shower, again. That novelty had worn off long ago. Maybe his roommate was hanging out with some of the other guys or had gone to a bar and he'd have some privacy. The team had only been together a few weeks and Colby hadn't played with any of his new teammates before. So he didn't know everyone's routine on the road yet. He looked down the road at the traffic buzzing by. "C'mon, Joe." 12:12. Three minutes. Just as Colby was resigning himself to the fact the dude had flaked on him, a white car with the windows rolled down bounced into the parking lot. "Sorry, to keep you waiting, man. Hop in!" Joe said excitedly. Colby saw someone who basically looked like the guy in the pictures and opened the door. He slid into the passenger seat and Joe eased the car forward. "My place is not far from here. Wasn't sure you'd still be waiting." "I almost wasn't," Colby replied. "Sorry, man. I'll do my best to make it up to you." Joe playfully put his hand on Colby's thigh and gave him a little squeeze. "And I gotta say, man. You're pretty hot." "Thanks. Glad you made it." Colby always found the hook up conversation awkward. Within five minutes they arrived at an apartment complex. Joe got out of the car and led Colby to the unit on the end. The place was modest and clean. In the light of the apartment, Joe wasn't bad looking. "You need a beer?" He asked. "I'm good, thanks," Colby replied. Joe walked over to Colby and placed a hand on his chest. "Guess we can get down to it, then." Joe sank to his knees in front of Colby and groped the bulge in the front of his jeans. Colby's cock immediately responded to the touch. Eagerly, Joe unbuttoned the jeans and unzipped them as Colby helped slide them down. Joe put his mouth over the head of Colby's underwear-covered cock and felt it jump. Colby moaned appreciatively and started to push his boxer briefs down. Joe backed away as Colby's cock sprang free. "Shit," Joe said as he wrapped a hand around Colby's shaft. "You weren't kidding when you said this thing was thick." With his hand stroking the base, Joe started to suck the head of Colby's sizable cock. Colby lifted his shirt up and off. He twisted his left nipple and looked down at Joe who was working his mouth further down onto his cock. Colby placed his hands on Joe's head and pushed toward Joe's throat, causing him to gag. Joe responded by diving down until he gagged again and again. With tears in his eyes, he came up for air. "Holy fuck, that's a big cock, man. I love it! And these nuts. Nice hangers, bro." Joe caught his breath as he played with Colby's balls in his hand. He tugged gently and then started to wash them with his tongue. "Suck those balls, man. Suck `em good," Colby encouraged. Joe responded by sucking one and then both into his mouth, massaging them with his tongue. Colby's appreciative moans and groans only encouraged Joe. After several minutes of ball worship and cock sucking, Joe came up for air. "You ready to fuck me with this thing?" "Hell yeah!" Joe stood up and his shorts fell to the floor. He peeled his shirt off and shucked it to the side. Colby picked a condom out of his pocket and rolled it on his cock as Joe handed him some lube. "I'm ok if you don't want to use the jimmy hat," Joe said. Colby opened the cap on the lube and spread some on his sheathed member. "Lay back," Colby said as he squeezed some more lube on his fingers. With two fingers, Colby worked the lube into Joe's ass, causing him to moan. He grabbed his cock and stroked as Colby fingered his hole. "Just fuck me already!" Colby didn't have to be asked twice. He pointed his cock at Joe's somewhat loosened hole and popped the head inside. Joe gasped. With some patience Colby worked the length of his cock inside but he could tell it was causing Joe some serious pain. Slowly at first, Colby worked his hips back and forth with short strokes. Each one got a little longer as Joe adjusted to Colby's size. The room became filled with the sounds of the two men groaning and moaning in pleasure as Colby fucked Joe harder and deeper. In the back of his mind, Colby knew this might be his only sex for a while, so he was determined to get his effort in. Joe madly fisted his own cock as Colby abused his ass. As much as he wanted to last, Joe knew he wasn't going to hold out much longer. Colby's long strokes sent Joe over the edge with moans of pleasure. Drops of cum glazed the area between his belly button and shaft. Colby fucked even harder now, with his balls slapping Joe's ass hard. He brought himself to the brink, pulled out, ripped the condom off and moved to shove his cock back into Joe's mouth. The combination of stroking and Joe's sucking brought Colby to the point of release. His cock erupted. Joe swallowed what he could as jet after jet of cum streamed from Colby's huge cock. Cum flowed from both corners of Joe's mouth. Exhausted, Colby flopped down beside Joe and they both caught their breath. "Damn. How often do you come to town on business," Joe asked as he scooped the cum on his face into his mouth. "Not very often." "You ever get back to town, I'm your guy. You can fuck me with this beast any time you want," Joe said as he leaned over and licked Colby's cock clean. Colby wasn't sure how to reply. After a few minutes of recovery, he started getting dressed. "I've got to get back." "No problem, I'll drop you off." They walked back toward the front door, finding clothes along the way. Shirts, then underwear and pants for Colby, just a pair of gym shorts for Joe. They walked back to the car and got in. "Where do you want me to drop you off?" "The diner's good." "You sure?" "Yeah, I'll walk from there." Joe pulled into the empty parking lot of the darkened diner. It was closed and even the staff was gone home. "You know, I could blow you again before you go," Joe said as he gave Colby's groin a squeeze. "You serious?" Joe didn't say anything. He turned the car off, unfastened his seatbelt and reached across Colby to the lever that reclined the seat. With a thud, Colby was as close to being on your back as one can be in a compact car. For the second time, Joe unfastened Colby's jeans and freed his cock from the confines of underwear. In a few minutes of hard core cock sucking, Joe brought Colby to completion a second time and licked every trace of cum he could find. "Wow. Thanks," Colby said in a post-orgasm daze. "Oh, the pleasure was mine. As I said, any time you're in town." "Yeah. Thanks." Colby pulled his underwear over his softening cock and zipped his jeans. "I gotta go. Thanks." Joe watched him walk into the night before he drove away. At the motel, Colby quietly entered the room and heard his roommate, Vince, lightly snoring. He tip toed toward the far bed and tossed his t-shirt aside. The clock read 2:46 a.m. He dropped his jeans and crawled into bed trying not to wake Vince. As Colby threw the covers over himself, Vince rolled over. But he kept on snoring and after a sigh of relief, Colby quickly fell asleep. Chapter 5 The Wilkinsons sat around the dinner table in awkward silence. The TV news blared in the background. Thursday's casserole didn't seem to differ much from the one Lance's mother, Helen, made Tuesday despite the fact she'd offered a lengthy explanation of what made this version special. Neither Lance, or his father Erick, really listened to Helen's babble. Erick humored her and offered, "Very nice, Helen. Thank you." Lance nodded appropriately. The news returned from a commercial break and went into a story about the upcoming community's upcoming Gay Pride festival. Lance closed his eyes. "Here we go again," he thought. On TV, the report showed footage of the previous year's celebration. Stereotypical imagery of people waving rainbow flags and shirtless men wearing mardi gras bead necklaces and lesbian couples with children flashed across the screen as the tension around the dining room table became palpable. "Celebrating an abomination. They shouldn't show that on television," Helen muttered. She knew the reaction it would draw, but couldn't help herself. "What was that, mother?" "Lance, Helen, please." Erick interjected in a feeble attempt to avoid what he knew was unavoidable. "Don't you shush me, Erick," Helen said angrily. "They shouldn't show those people flaunting that abomination. It's a sin! Children shouldn't be exposed to that kind of behavior." "In case you forgot, mother, one of `those people' is sitting at the table," Lance said while making quotation marks with his hands. "And every night, I pray for God to fix you. You're confused. You're not one of those people. Not my son." Lance dropped his fork. "Are you fucking kidding me? I'm gay. I've always been gay. Always going to be gay. Your son IS GAY." "Stop it, Lance. Stop saying that." "Why? It's who I am. I knew I was gay when I had a crush on the Campbell twins across the street. Maybe I couldn't put it in those words, but I knew I liked boys. Sure, Amy Campbell and I were friends, but I got the cheap thrill of seeing her brothers. Any confusion went right out the door the first time I touched another guy. And that was a long time ago." "Those men. They took advantage of you. They corrupted you." "Those men? You talk about them like they were alien abductors. Nobody took advantage of me. I was willing and ready. Good grief. It was Danny Hernandez! Just a couple blocks from here. I was 17. He was 18." "And they left the church. You should see the way people look at them. It breaks my heart. His mother is such a lovely woman, but she embraced his sin! I will not have people look at me that way. Not because of this thing in your head. You don't like men. It's not natural!" Lance's mother shouted. "Would you two stop!" Erick said in a thundering tone. "For pete's sake. We're at the table. We've been through all this before, and I've had enough of it." "Erick, I'm trying to save our son from eternal damnation. I will not watch my tone. His salvation is at stake. I'm not going to let him choose a life of sin." "Choose a life of sin? You think I chose this?" Lance said incredulously. "The Marines were a choice. I thought discipline and regiment would make it easier to hide the gay part from you. I thought I had to. Instead, I saw friends die. I nearly got killed and every step I take brings that back. And I'm lucky. You're lucky. I came home alive," Lance looked directly at his mother as he spoke with great passion. Tears were welling in her eyes. "If you want to pray for me, pray that something gets the damn war out of my head. Pray that I can forget the awful things I saw. Pray that the nightmares, flashbacks, fear and anxiety go away. Hope that I don't have a primal reaction to dive for cover every time a door slams or a car backfires for the rest of my life. "And if you really want to do something meaningful, pray that somewhere on this planet, there's a guy who can look past my scars and faults and love me. "I came out seven years ago. You've had every opportunity to think this through and understand who I am. But you hide behind that church. You didn't lose me to that war. I'm literally getting back on my feet. Think of parents that lost everything! But the only thing that matters to you is chasing the gay out of me." Lance picked up his plate and glass, took them to the sink and walked toward the back door. His father sat there, stunned at the ferocity of his son's eruption and trying to process the words. Helen was crying. "You know what's saddest to me? An entire platoon of hyper-macho, alpha male, heterosexual marines was more accepting of the faggot in their midst than I am by the woman who brought me into the world." Lance heard his mother sob as he walked out the back door. To be continued.... ================ Thanks to the readers who responded to the first chapters. I appreciate your enthusiasm for the story. Constructive comments and feedback are welcome. E-mail me at niftysouthpaw@gmail.com.