Baseball Star Edition

 

Reconnaissance is a major part of the game and so is availability. Sarah hauled me around California chasing her rock star, and now it’s my turn to drag her around town.

I will not rest until I have woken up next to a Major League Baseball player.

“I still don’t see why we can’t do this in California,” Sarah complains for the fifth time today.

“It’s all about opportunities, I don’t see a way to put myself in front of him any other way, do you?”

“No, not without heaps of luck. You know I’m your wing-girl, I just loath road trips.” She grumbles, slouching down in the passenger seat.

The wind rushes over me in the convertible, whipping my hair around. It makes me feel carefree. I wish I could stand with my arms spread wide, and fly. “It’s a beautiful day, just enjoy it.”

“It’s Arizona, what’s there to enjoy in Arizona?” She asks in mock derision.

“Baseball players?” I suggest.

“Ehh, the other single men on the team are not my type. I’m here strictly in a supportive role this time.” 

The drive to Scottsdale was rather nice despite Sarah’s unwillingness to play the game this trip. Scenery along the journey was very romantic, in a dusty, rugged way. Barren mountains loomed in the distance like sand spilled from an hourglass. Appearing as if a slight breeze would scatter them to the wind, but they had withstood the test of time for ages.

This year, my favorite up and coming baseball star was playing at the Spring Training Annual Poker Classic charity event.

Sarah had protested vehemently about going until I told her she would get to wear her designer summer dress she’d just bought.

My MP3 player was on random and we were jamming out to tunes. Although Sarah had insisted on removing her Rock Star’s music, it was still a decent mix.

She’s been acting weird ever since she accomplished her goal with him and I wish she would just tell me why, but every time I broached the subject she brushed it off. My only conclusion, the sex must not have been that good. Poor girl.

“So why him? Why a pitcher?” Sarah asks while a predominantly slow song plays.

“Have you seen the way he pitches? My God, his arms are like Thor’s Hammer. I want to feel the strength of those arms, as I rake my nails down his back.”

She laughs, “It is your work in life that is the ultimate seduction. Or so says Mr. Pablo Picasso, I wonder what Thor’s little hammer is like.”

“I’ll tell you after this weekend.” Confidence is a key component to the seduction of powerful men. Even if your insides are tied in knots, you have to appear collected. It’s good all-around practice to exude confidence anyway.

“I still can’t believe you’re trying to do this all in one weekend.”

“Well I have two shots, the pre-season baseball game, and the tournament. If the baseball game doesn’t give me the opportunity, all I have to do is advance far enough at the poker game to get to a round at his table. I think I can manage that,” I’m a decent poker player. Probably not good enough to win, but it’s for charity, and it’d be fun.

“You kick my ass,”

“You have a terrible poker face,” I reminded her.

“I hope his poke her face is better.” She waggles her eyebrows at me.

I laugh at the ridiculousness of her joke. “I’m sure it will be, have you seen his concentration stare when he’s pitching? It turns me on just thinking about it. His eyes are so intense; I can just imagine staring into those eyes, begging for him to toss me around. I hope he’s rough. I like it rough.”

Sarah rolls her eyes at me. “Yeah we all know, make him be rough. Oh, I love this song,” she turns up the music and begins to sing at the top of her lungs, leaving me to revel in images of his stare. I hope I don’t crash the car before we get there.

After we’ve checked into the hotel, the same one the poker charity event will be held at tomorrow night, we get ready for the game. I slip into some tight jeans and a bright blue jersey of a retired player, left open with a tank top underneath.

We purchase tickets to the lower deck close to the ball pen.

Close enough for me to watch as my target pitcher warms up. His forearms are ropey with muscles that bulge every time he lets the ball fly and pivots on his feet. I’m close enough to hear him grunt when he lets it go, and I inhale sharply. He’s kept in shape during the off season, that’s for sure. In fact I’m pretty sure he’s bulked up even more.

Last year was his debut year in the Major Leagues and he was phenomenal, winning rookie of the year. He caught my eye when he started closing for the team, and winning games.

Sarah laughs and shouts encouragement for the guy who’s currently up to bat.

My pitcher looks up and smiles at me, in response I purse my lips and nod at him. “Well played, Sarah.” I say in a hushed tone.

“Did you eye fuck him?” She gives me a sly, sideways smile, never taking her eyes off of the field. “Go, go. Yes a double, you rock!” she shouts encouragement to the batter and pounds on the railing.

 

***

 

“Go get ‘em!” I hear someone shout over the dull roar of the crowd, when I step onto the field. I’m second to pitch and I’m feeling good. We are down two to one, but that’s not bad. I’m confident I can bring us back.

The afternoon heat feels good on my face; it intensifies the smell of fresh cut grass in the desert. After testing my footing on the mound, and a quick glance behind me, I focus on the mountaintop in the distance. Test the feel of the smooth ball in my hands and adjust the stitching between my fingers for a curve ball. A quick inhale and I turn and let the ball fly.

“Strike one!” The ump shouts. Good man. Another shriek from the stands makes me glance over.

I recognize the beacon of red hair as my Asian beauty’s friend, and glanced to her right where the exotic beauty sits. Her friend whispers in her ear, her hand rests on the Asian’s leg as she laughs at whatever her friend is saying. If I were that hand, I’d slide up her thigh to the promise land.

My buddy made a signal, but I missed it. Shit, what was that? Shaking my head, he asked for a slider and I agree. I have to get my mind back in the game.

When I wind up, I can feel that my stance is off. The ball slips from my fingers and right into the swinging back. A thwack and it flies over my head and into centerfield.

The raven temptress shakes her head in dissatisfaction causing my brow to furrow. My new goal is to impress her during this game.

She was right there in my line of sight, and I had to keep thinking about my mom to keep from getting a boner. Not even concentrating on the baseball in my hand helped. The whole time, I’d try not to look but her firecracker of a friend kept shouting, embarrassing her, and drawing my attention their way. She was so cute when her face flushed from embarrassment. Damn.

I gave up two runs in three innings before my manager called me out. Pathetic show, and when I walked off the field defeated, my girl was gone.

Five to one was the final score, what a fucking atrocity of a game, I should’ve been so much better. I couldn’t help it though. When I looked up into the stands and saw that exotic Asian beauty, I lost all concentration.

The off-season makes you complacent to a normal everyday life, and now that I’ve been stuck training for the past month, with nothing but a house full of guys, I was horny. 

“Don’t look so down, it’s the pre-season, and everyone has their off days.” My buddy, John, slaps me on the back. He’s a damn good first baseman, with an even better batting average.

“I just need to get out and unwind, let’s go get a drink.” Maybe my mystery girl with raven hair will be out.

“No can do man, you know I’m in the program.”

“Fine,” I grumble as Jose approaches. “Jose! Let’s go for a defeat drink,”

“I don’t know man, you were playing like you’re already drunk, you sure you need one?” he teases. Great, rub a little salt in the wound.

 

***

 

The game is a bit of a disappointment. Our team loses and is in no mood to greet fans, which is a disappointment to me since we’ve placed ourselves next to a family with young boys. Hoping my Baseball Star would come out and sign autographs for them.

“There is always tomorrow,” Sarah encourages. “Stop sulking, it took me two shows to get the Rock Star remember?”

“I know, but he was in such a sour mood when he left. What if he’s still in a bad mood tomorrow?” The pulse pounds in my veins just thinking about him. When he walked off the field his square jaw was set firm and his eyebrows furrowed so far you could barely make out his caramel colored eyes.

“Then you change his mood,”

“Changing his mood might not be the easiest thing to do.” He even kicked the trashcan on his way out, sending the contents flying across the dugout. I’m not going to lie; it made my heart stutter in excitement to see the passion he had. I hope it transfers into the bedroom.

For the time being, I needed to relax and get my head into the poker game tomorrow. If I was sloppy, or distracted, I’d never get past the first round.

We sit around by the pool the following day soaking in the midday sun until I retire to my room to get ready, leaving Sarah by the pool. If my skin got burnt, it’d ruin any chance of an enjoyable night. Sarah eventually comes back to the room to get ready for the night, then we head for the event.  

Inside, the hotel lobby is filled with onlookers and players in the tournament. A section of the ball room is roped off for the poker tables. I lead Sarah to the registration table and get my assignment.

Excitement builds in my core, but I have to keep an eye out for my Baseball star. “Have you seen him?” I ask as I chew on my manicured fingernails.

“No, I don’t think any of them are here yet, but stop that.” She pulls my hand from my face. “There’s time to relax and scope out my poker competition, that’s good, go do it. I’ll keep an eye out.”

I sit at the designated table and receive my buy in chips while Sarah goes to the bar to grab us some drinks.

Across the room, I spot him when he enters with two very gorgeous, blonde, toned, women at his side. My heart sinks. I hadn’t anticipated he’d have someone or two someone’s with him, but that’s always a possibility.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah asks when she returns with drinks in hand.

“He’s with someone,” I nod in his direction and she follows my line of sight.

“Oh please? Are you worried about the woman with fake breasts, hair, and tan?”

“Yes, or the other one, she looks all natural. He came in with both of them. It’s over, let’s just play a little poker and have a good weekend.”

“Why are you so down on yourself? Stop it, all you know is he came in with them. They look like promo models to me.”

“Yeah but the one girl’s arms are more tone than anything on my body!” I cry out, louder than necessary and heads turn in my direction. Great, now he’ll think I’m checking out the girls on his arm, not him.

“Fun trumps bimbo any day, just have fun and nature will do the rest.” She disappears into the crowd of spectators leaving me to my own defenses.

My Baseball Star signs a few autographs as he makes his way over to the competitor’s table.

Luck is on my side tonight and I move onto the next round quickly, to the big boys table where my Baseball Star sits. 

“Hello gentlemen,” I greet them when I sit down, “Is everyone ready to play?”

“Welcome to the table, you are . . .?” My Baseball Star greets me with a side smile and a questioning head tilt.

“Thank you, and it’s Amy”

As the game progresses, I quickly find out that Lady Luck has left my side, I’m bleeding chips fast. It seems like my Baseball Star refuses to let me bluff. He keeps raising the stakes on me, but at least he’s also losing several hands.

On my final hand, I go all in on a pair of tens, queen high. Unfortunately, my Baseball Star has the other three queens, and he knocks me right out of the game.

“Well played, sir,” I shake his hand as I leave the table. “Next time, you’re mine.”

His hands envelopes mine, and I feel a current run through my body causing the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Our hands stay clasped together.

“It was great watching you squirm, but I’m sorry I took all your money.” My Baseball Star smirks. For some reason I feel the need to wink at him before I walk away, swaying my hips.

“I feel so stupid,” I cry as the false bravado slips away when I reach the bar where Sarah is standing.

“Why?”

“I winked at him,” I drop my head into my hands, mortified.

“I don’t think that was a bad move, he watched you leave. He’s also not played that well since you sat down at his table.” She laughs.

“He took my chips,”

“Only because you’re smitten with him,”

“Why do we put ourselves through this?” I ask through muffled hands.

“It’s the thrill of the chase; losing control every so often is exhilarating.”

“I don’t think I like it. Can we go back to our college days of seducing trust fund guys, and Ph.D. candidates? Those were so much easier,” I complain.

Sarah does not respond, she simply gazes at me with those jade eyes, one eyebrow raised, and then slides her drink in my direction. 

“Fine,” I concede. “This is somehow more fun.”

“What’s more fun?” A baritone voice asks from behind me. I turn to see who has interrupted our private conversation, my eyes glance up and my lungs cease to work. Standing in front of me, in a light blue button down shirt and dark jeans is my gorgeous baseball star. 

Everything about this man reminds me of a work of carved stone, except maybe his eyes. They are a soft brown, lightly dusted with flecks of gold. I must think of something to say here.

“That is a woman’s secret,” Sarah helps and then casually turns toward the bar.

“Alright then, be mysterious, but can I buy you a drink? I believe I at least owe you that for booting you out of the game so quickly.”

“I’ve had plenty already, but thank you. You could give us your company instead, if you’d like.” I don’t want to get drunk, I need my wits. Two during the game, and the last of Sarah’s drink is enough for me.

“I’d love to, I have a few interviews I need to do, but until then I’m all yours.” He leans in, and in a hushed voice continues, “Anyway you want.”

I’m pretty sure my heart skips a beat, but I work to control my outward calm demeanor. “Well that’s rather forward of you.” My lips purse in a playful grin.

“I’m sorry, you’re just so beautiful,” his fingertips touch my hip and he moves closer, licking his lips. My body tenses in anticipation. 

“I liked it.” I murmur.

He smiles, exposing a set of bright white teeth. “Hey, you look familiar, were you at the game yesterday?”

“We were,” My heart plummets, I thought he was going to kiss me, then he changes the subject.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” His head lowers in mock shame. Just then, a reporter impatient for her story approaches and greets my Baseball Star.

Attempt number two foiled. I’m pretty sure my face is as red as my dress, desire mixes with anger over the interruption, and I don’t know what to do. So I just stand there while the intruder begins her interview.

“So you placed third tonight, what does that mean for your charity?”

“Well, the Children’s Literacy Program will get a small donation. I wish I could have done more, and I will be matching the events contribution, but my buddy A-Rod over there is a true supporter, coming out to support his cause even though he’s suspended.”

The reporter’s head snaps around, eager for a front-page story and my Baseball Star seizes the moment. His fingers entwine with mine and he spins on his heels dashing through an employee’s only door.

My feet have to work double time to keep up with his hurried pace. “A-Rod’s not here,” I say giggling as we rush through the hall.

“I know, but she doesn’t,” he winks at me.

It feels like we’re in a James Bond movie, any moment the evil reporter is going to burst through one of the side doors and hold a little field recorder to his head, demanding an interview.

I don’t ask where his place was because I didn’t care. All that matters right now is getting out of this strapless bra and seeing if his hands can work just as much magic on me, as he does with the baseball.

One of the requirements of a perspective target is that they have to be someone who is good with their hands. It’s been a fairly successful rule in weeding out the good from the bad so far.

“My manager is going to be so mad. I promised him I’d do a few interviews tonight, but screw him.” He places a gentle kiss on my hand and my heart skips a beat.

Even his lips look hard and angular, they’re soft on my hand.

I’m stopped dead in my tracks in front of a large silver truck and my Baseball Star opens the door for me. Great, I get to clamor up into this, in a short dress? Men.

The foot rail comes about midway to my calf, so I’m forced to try ever so gracefully to hop into the cab of the truck without being indecent. My Baseball Star, being the gentleman he is, offers his hand to help me up and I graciously accept.

When I’m situated, he runs his hand over the exposed skin on my thigh and I gasp. He gazes up at me, and a wide grin spreads across his face and he raises his eyebrows and wiggles them at me before moving around to the driver’s side and climbing in.

“Let’s get out of here,” his smile never waivers as he brings the engine to life. “Yup, my manager is gonna kill me and it’s only spring training.”

“Worth it,” I reply in a cheery voice.

“Definitely.” He lays a strong hand on my knee and gives it a reassuring squeeze. 

The ride starts rather quiet, the only sound is the top forties channel, playing music quietly in the background. I won’t comment on his musical selection, maybe he turned it to that station to impress me.

A song comes on that apparently he likes and his fingers begin to tap and travel over my inner thigh in time with the tempo. Gooseflesh prickles over my legs in an excited response and the hammering in my chest drowns out the radio. If this song, and his teasing, doesn’t end soon I may explode.

“Okay, you have to stop.” I gasp and place my hand over his in an effort to still it.

“Why?” His head tilts questioning me, eyes still on the road. Then I feel his hand slide under the hem of my dress and nails run down and back up my leg roughly.

I hiss and bite my lip. “Because, I can do this.” With his hand still between my legs I lean over and lay a kiss on his neck. There’s a few days’ worth of facial hair growth covering his jawline, it feels rough and wonderful scratching against my face.

“Nope, not buying it. What else you got?” He encourages, and his fingers begin to trace the outline of my panties.

Patience is not one of my virtues and he is testing what little I have. When I begin to nibble on his earlobe, he rubs his finger over my panties. I dive into his neck, sucking and biting and nibbling on his earlobe, anything to make him give me more. His hand freezes momentarily, and then he pushes my lace panties out of the way and dips a finger inside of me.

While he works me into a frenzy, I leave moist kisses down his neck, and across his collarbone before slowly blowing back over the area. His fingers curl in response and cause me to let out an audible moan.

If this car ride lasts much longer, I’m going to go insane. My palm runs down the length of his body until I reach the bulge in his pants. His hips lift in silent answer to my groping question.

I must know what he is packing inside of those jeans right now. Slow and teasing, I unzip them and slide my hand inside. When I wrap my fingers around him I’m shocked, he’s larger than average. My breathing picks up and so does his, he also presses the gas pedal further down accelerating.

“Mmm, when’s the last time you fooled around in a car?” I murmur into his ear.

“While it’s moving? Hard . . . Hard to say,” he grunts and places both hands on the steering wheel. 

“Hard, indeed.” My head dips down and I take him in my mouth.

“Oh God,” he whispers and grabs a fistful of my hair. “I’m torn on whether to tell you we are almost there, or just park and let you keep going,”

I’ve yet to kiss those lips that I’ve been fantasizing about, but soon. Soon I will have all of him.

“I’m pretty sure we’d have more fun inside,” I suggest. A little foreplay in his massive truck is one thing, but I don’t want to spend my entire sexual escapade in it. I hope he was kidding.

He cuts the engine and takes my face in between his large hands, crushing his lips to mine. The strength, yet softness in them is intoxicating and I want nothing more than to consume them until I’m thoroughly drunk.

He pulls away from the kiss and my body tingles in anticipation. “Shall we?” he asks, and I nod a response.

As I step out of the truck, I take in the vastness of the house for the first time. An enormous two-story stucco building stands in front of me.

“It’s the team house, some of us stay here during spring training.” He smiles at me and swoops down, picking me up and cradling me in his arms.

“Hey dude,” a guy sitting on the couch greets my Baseball Star when he walks inside.

“Hey, can’t talk,” he returns the other guys greeting and I hear his keys hitting the wooden coffee table with a loud clink.

The room smells of Italian cooking, with a slight hint of male. My stomach grumbles at the deliciousness of it all.

“There’s leftovers if you two get hungry, remember to stay hydrated also,” the guy shouts after us as he carries me into his room and closes the door.

Inside the dark room, he tosses me onto the queen sized bed and I slide back on the satin sheets. The only light comes from the street light outside, casting a shadowy orange glow in the room.

As my eyes adjust to the darkness I can see a silhouette of him in front of the window, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, doing a strip tease. My breathing catches in my chest as I watch. Large rounded shoulders appear, followed by chiseled arms, the street light highlights his muscles.  

I bite my lip, the anticipation killing me. The ghost of a memory of his fingers inside of me still lingers, but I’m alone on the bed, watching and waiting. My hand trails up my leg, in the same manner as his did earlier and I begin to pleasure myself as he slides his jeans down over his boxer briefs. Damn that’s sexy.

In a flash, he is hovering over me in the bed. “I didn’t say you could do that,” he commands and grabs my wrists pulling my hands above my head.  

 

***

 

Her silky hair that tickled my stomach, the scent of flowers from whatever she is wearing, and her warm mouth sliding around my cock, made me want to come in the car. Hell, I almost did, but I stopped her. Delayed pleasure is the Karma Sutra way. It’s also the gentleman way, ladies first. But, I can taunt her with a little strip tease first. 

When she trailed her hand down the length of her body, and back up her leg, playing with herself, my balls tightened. The glow of the light outside highlighted her raven hair making her sexy as hell. I needed to be inside of her now. I need to possess her like no one ever has before.

“I didn’t say you could do that. If you try that again I’ll have to restrain you.” The thought of her tied to my bed, helpless to my every whim arouses me more than I thought possible.

Her chest heaved with every breath and she pressed her body up against mine. “I don’t think you will,” she challenges me and pulls her hand out of my grasp. I was only partially teasing, but she wants it. There is a wicked smile on her face.

Next thing I know, long slender fingers were teasing my balls. I looked down and saw her other hand back between her own legs, dress hitched up around her hips. That was my job.

Her wrists are tiny enough for me to grab both in one hand. I pin them over her head and thrust my hips down on her. “I told you that you’d be punished if you tried that again,”

She thrusts her hip into mine eagerly, as she hisses though her teeth.

“Then punish me,” She raises up to kiss me but I back away. She doesn’t want to give up control, but she will. My hand slides down her body and I pull her dress over her head. When I let go of her wrists she instantly reaches to touch me.

“Bad girls must learn a lesson, no touching. Me, or yourself.” I say retraining her hands again. “Damn, my belt is too far away,”

Her eyes grow wide and she stops gyrating her hips against me. “Belt?”

“Guess I’ll just have to make due with what’s here,” I grab ahold of her little black lace panties and give them a hard yank down her legs.

“What are you doing?” she asks, but there is an excitement in her voice. It rings though as I place her hands behind the railing of my bed and tie them together with her panties.

“Teaching you patience,”

“But I need to—” her hips thrust upward but I silence her, covering her mouth with my lips. She tastes of wine and sex. I deepen the kiss and she sighs as her arms flex, bound behind her she is struggling to hold still.

“Not yet,” I run my hands down her body. Using only my fingertips I lightly trace the contours of her collarbone, down to her breast, slipping her bra off as I go. Gooseflesh ripples under my light caress and her pert little nipples grow hard as I flick them with my tongue.

Further down I travel, tracing the outline of each rib, and across her stomach. She squirms under me, and the headboard creaks a strain when I place my head between her legs.

 

***

 

“Please,” I beg. Not being able to reach out and grab him, I’m forced to lay still. It heightens my awareness of him on top of me. Every touch feels like an electric jolt through my body and into my core.

His fingers run over my body so gently but I am aware of every ounce of contact they make. He’s still wearing his boxer briefs and his ass sticks up in the air almost comically, when his head dips between my legs. Baseball players always have the nicest asses. His was no exception.

When his tongue makes contact with my sensitive skin I lose it. My hands ache to touch something and my body aches for him. “Yes, oh yes,” I cry out and pull on my restraints. He’s made a decent knot though.

Wrapping my legs around him, I push him further into me, begging, needing more and he complies. A low throaty moan passes his lips and he places a finger back inside of me. The new sensation causes my legs to tremble and my breathing becomes labored.

He rises up and plants a moist kiss firmly on my lips before I’m ready for him to be finished. “Have you learned your lesson in patience?”

I nod, “Yes.” I’m afraid if I tell him to keep going, for fear that he will keep me restrained.

One quick tug and he’s removed my restraints allowing me to touch him again. Now it’s my turn to make him pay. I sit up and pushed him on his back and crawled back over him, letting the tips of my breast run over his hips and chest. My fingers slid inside the elastic band of his underwear and I pulled them down and from the base of his balls I lick upward to the tip of his cock.

“No,” he says in a voice almost as firm as his erection. 

“You don’t like it?” My feelings are admittedly hurt.

I’ve never had anyone say no to oral sex before.

“No more, come here.” He pulls me on top of him and teases my entrance with his erection.

“Do you have a condom?” I whisper in his ear. He grunts and grabs my hips, holding me to him as he fumbles around in his bedside table. His neck is so enticing that I have to nibble on the contracted muscles as I rub him with my hand. I’m sure it’s making his task more difficult. I hear a few items hit the floor before he produces the small foil square.

He pushes me back on the bed and enters me, hard. I scream out, the feeling is intense, after all of the teasing while being restrained, my nerves are on edge and my body is eager to accept him.

His large muscular arm wraps around my waist pulling me into him, and him further into me. “Is this what you wanted?” he pants.

“God, yes. More,” I cry and finally get to rake my nails down his large shoulders, over his back and I grab onto his buttocks.

A hiss passes through his lips, but I don’t care that I’m being rough, he’s being rough with me and I love it.

I push him back, needing to be in more control and straddle him, slowly at first, rolling my hips on top of him, I build momentum as I go. My Baseball Star’s head tilts back as his breathing quickens. Our panting breaths keep rhythm with the motion of my hips. His large hand roams over my breast and he pinches my nipple. I moan again and rock hard against his throbbing erection.

“Yes baby, like that,” he murmurs and I oblige him, harder and faster.

I am close now and can’t contain myself, my moans grow louder and I burry my head into his neck to hopefully muffle some of the noise. Acutely aware there is still someone in the next room.

“Oh God, baby you’re so wet,” he says, attempting some dirty talk. It may not be the most original, but damn, it turns me on even more nonetheless.

“You’re making me that way,” I pant.

“Just the way I like it,” My Baseball Star takes control and places one hand on my stomach, the other on the small of my back and he moves me over him at the speed he likes. Pressing down on my stomach, I can somehow feel more of him inside of me and I lose control. I scream and grab onto his arms for support as my orgasm washes over me.

He pulls out and lies me down on the bed, placing soft kisses over my heated neck and chest. There is a vacant feeling between my legs and I want him back inside.

“Turn over,” he demands as he grabs my hips and pulls me back off the bed. I oblige him and get on my hands and knees, wiggling my butt in a taunting manner.

I can feel him at my entrance and I sway my hips away from him.

“Stop that,” he says, not impressed, and his hand comes down hard on my backside.

“Yes,” I coo and back into him, letting him enter me again.

He pushes my back down so my ass is further in the air and smacks me again in the same spot, it stings, but excites me at the same time. Every thrust goes deeper, and this new position he’s placed me in allows him to hit new sensations in me. I have to grab onto the edge of the bed for support.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yes,” I barely have a chance to get out my response before he pulls my hips back against him.

When I begin to swivel my hips and push against him, his grunts turn into full moans and soon after I feel his fingers dig into my sides when his erection pulses as he comes.

I turn back around to face him and he cups my cheeks in his hands and kisses me gently, letting his lips linger on mine. When he pulls away, my lips tingle. He places another kiss on the back of my hand and settles down next to me.

Slick with sweat from our exertion, we lay side by side trying to steady our breathing. The pounding pulse in my veins slowly subsides.

“I remember something about food in the kitchen, are you interested in finding out what’s out there?” He asks after a few minutes of silence.

“It smelled like pasta.” My hormonal needs satisfied, my stomach grumbles indicating it’s time to pay attention to its needs.

He laughs, “Come on then, let’s grab something to eat.”

I grab the closest article of clothing and slip it on over my bare shoulders. His blue button down shirt. When I slip on my panties they slide back down my hips and land around my ankles. I grimace. “Well, I guess these are no good anymore,” I say and toss them into his waste basket. They have been stretched out too far from being used as a restraint.

He laughs, a carefree sound, and pulls on his own, unmolested underwear before moving toward the door.

No one is sitting in the living room when we emerge, to my relief. His hand slips under my shirttail and rests on my bottom as he guides me into the kitchen.

“It looks like you’re right, chicken parmesan.” He pulls the container of leftovers out of the refrigerator and his eyebrows shoot up excited. I lean against the counter admiring the view, as he prepares a plate of leftovers and places it in the microwave.

His back is wrapped in muscle, and just as defined as his chest and arms. His chest is bulky from years of pitching, and covered with a light dusting of hair, just enough to tickle a bit when he is pressed up against my naked body.

My inner thigh becomes moist at the recent memory, but the microwave beep pulls me out of my daydream.

He pulls out a heaping plate of pasta and gives it an expert twirl on his fork before offering the bite to me. I giggle like a silly schoolgirl and eagerly take the bite.

“Mmm, this is good, even for leftovers. Someone really knows how to cook,” I say in between bites.

“That’s my roommate, he comes from an Italian family, so I think it’s in his blood to keep us all fed.”

“All, how many roommates do you have?” My eyes dart around the room, hoping no one else is here.

“Four, some of the guys have families so they have their own homes, and some of us crash here.”

“Wow, five guys living here. I must confess I’m impressed it’s clean.”

“Teams rules for the house, keeps us from becoming slobs. I must confess, you’re a bit of an anomaly here, we should get you back into hiding,” he says finishing off the last of the pasta. “We don’t see many women here with our schedule. I’m afraid one of the other guys is gonna come out and try to steal you away.”

“Not a chance,” I grin and wrap my arms around his waist. “I’m all yours tonight.”

He grunts. “Me man, take woman back to cave.” With that, I am swooped off my feet and he carries me over his shoulder back into the room.

With a full belly and exhaustion setting in I quickly drift off to sleep. The last thing I remember is my Baseball Star kissing my forehead.

An obnoxious alarm wakes me from pleasant dreams, my eyes shoot open and momentarily I forget where I am. The firm male back groping around on the nightstand to turn off the alarm reminds me I’m still in the bed with my Baseball Star.

Goal accomplished.

“Does this mean we have to get up now?” I groan and run my hand across his shoulder. He turns to face me.

“No, but soon, I have to go to training, but you can stay longer and sleep,” he suggests. It thrills me that he’s not making me leave with him.

Lying on our side, facing each other, he runs a hand up over my breast and back down my side, landing between my legs. I part them giving him access, and his finger slides in testing.

“Mmmm, someone is still wet for me,” he moans. His lips find mine in the dark and he pulls my leg over him, positing himself at my entrance. Ever so slowly, he enters me again, and even more slowly pulls back out. 

My senses wake in an instant as he continues his measured thrusts. After the vigorous, animalistic night we just had, it’s painful, but in a good way, like getting a massage the day after a grueling workout.

My breath starts to come in shallow rapid bursts and I’m feeling more turned on by these slow motions, they allow me to feel everything inside of me. The position on my side doesn’t permit much movement and I need more of him. So I push him onto his back and begin to ride him, keeping the slow pace. I let my hair fall in a curtain around his face, concealing us inside. He reaches up to bring my face down to his and kisses me. My lips part and he deepens the kiss. Before I know what’s going on, he’s grabbed my hips and in a smooth motion, never disconnecting from me, has me on my back. His pace picks up and I arch my back asking for more.

He buries his head in my neck, making his soft moans reverberate through my core and it sends me over the edge rather quickly.

“I’m gonna come,” he groans as I climax.

“Wait,” I cry, needing just a moment longer. He soon pulls out and comes on my stomach before collapsing down next to me.

“Did we just do that together?” He questions.

“I think so,” I giggle, then my stomach turns cold as liquid slides down my side and I cringe. “But I need a towel.”

“Hmm, well that’s very interesting,” He laughs and grabs a shirt from the floor to wipe my stomach. “Do you want to join me in the shower?” He asks; his soft eyes gaze down on me. “I have to leave, but I am going to jump in and take a quick one.”

“That’d be nice,” I smile and prop up on an elbow watching him, as he moves about the room and cracks the door open.

“Where are you bastards?” His booming voice echoes through the hall, but there is no response. “Coast is clear, come on,” he jerks his head toward the hall, his short hair stands awry, and makes me laugh at the site.

I grab my discarded clothes, and after a quick peek out the door, run after him into the bathroom.

The water is already running, and steam is billowing out from over the top of the shower curtain. My skin prickles, the early morning air is cold in Arizona, but the shower promises to warm me.

My Baseball Star steps in and I follow after placing my clothes on the sink counter.

“Get warm,” he suggests as he steps aside so I can stand under the shower stream.

“Thank you, oh that’s fantastic,” I tilt my head back soaking my hair and lavishing in the hot water that runs over me. My Baseball Star grabs me by the waist and steps under the stream with me, planting a firm kiss on my lips that makes my knees go weak.

“Don’t you need to hurry and get to practice?” I ask when he pulls away.

“Shit, I guess you’re right. I’m sorry.” His angular lips pull down into a frown and he grabs the bottle of body wash.

After he’s lathered up he fills his hands with another squirt of soap and runs his hands up over my arms and across my breasts.

“Oh, this is nice also.” I hold my breath as he pulls me close again with his hand on the back of my neck. I tilt my head up and meet his lips eagerly. Our warm body’s slide effortlessly against each other, slick with soap. 

“I agree,” he says and smirks. “I wish I could stay-”

“But you have to get to practice,” I finish for him.

“Yes, time to take my punishment for leaving the charity event early last night. Like I said, feel free to hang out for a while, just lock the bottom lock when you leave.” He smacks my ass and rinses off in a haste before he steps out of the shower. Leaving me with a few moments alone behind the curtain.

I take the time to wash the areas his hands missed. When I step out of the shower he’s already dressed and brushing his teeth.

In a hurry, he gives me one final kiss. “I’m sorry I have to run out like this,” he apologizes again.

That final hurried kiss will be the last thing I remember of my Baseball Star. I take a moment to admire the view as he walks out the door, then go back to dressing.

The display on my phone says it’s six thirty a.m. I sit it back in my purse and curl back up in his bed. Sarah would forgive me for not saying goodbye or telling her where I was going last night, but she would certainly not forgive me if I woke her up this early to come get me.

I was not about to take a cab back to the hotel either, wearing my little red dress from the night before. “Never let your friend take a walk of shame,” it’s of our rules in the seduction game. 

After a few hours rest, I get up and call Sarah.

“Hello?” She answers, her voice hoarse and laced with sleep.

“Good morning, would you be interested in coming to pick me up?”

“Where are you? What time is it?”

“That’s a good question, hold please.” I grimace. It never occurred to me that I didn’t know where in the world I was. “I’ll have to go outside and see.”

Sarah laughs. “Only you. Did you leave keys for me?” She says a little more cheery.

“They should be on the little table, no?”

“No, I don’t see them,” she says.

My heart sinks at the thought of taking a cab home, in a strange city, in party clothes at eight in the morning. “They have to be, are you looking?”

“I’m just kidding, I’ve got them and I’m on my way. Just text me the address.”

“You’re terrible, but thank you,” We say goodbye and I send her the address after taking a quick stroll down the street to the corner sign, in my wrinkled little red dress.

When she arrives, there is a twinkle in her eyes, and a change of clothes in her hands. “So tell me everything,” she says relinquishing my clothes. “You smell like man.”

“That’s his body wash, thanks again,” I say holding up the jeans. “What did you do last night?”

“Well when I couldn’t find you, or your pitcher, I decided to have a few drinks at the bar with some of the players. Then I went to bed, and you?”

“Well, he ruined my panties,” Might as well start the story off with a bang. She raises an eyebrow and I relay the events of the night.