Gender: Male Age: 33 Location: USA
|Introduction: Roger is blindsided when a young, enthralling teen enters his life.|
If you read my "Perks of Being a Wallflower with a Huge Cock" series, you will know that I dangled retirement at the end of my last installment. But I think I'm past that rough patch for the time being and I'll try to re-fuel by starting a new series.
In this one, I plan on getting started slowly. So please be prepared for that. I really like focusing on the details before getting knee-deep in all the smuttiness. I hope you enjoy. I'm pretty excited about this one!
I will admit, I always had what I thought was an awesome job. Get this --- I actually GET PAID to be the official statistician for the local minor league baseball team. I watch about 70 games per year and do nothing but score baseball. Talk about a stat geek's dream come true! When it's not game day, I am an assistant on the team's media relations staff, even traveling with the squad from time to time to places like Rochester, Louisville and Buffalo. It pays dick, but it's better than real work.
So in between the cavalcade of E6's and 643 DP's at my day job, I balance my home life. I have a son and a wife, and fitting them in is a challenge. I work A LOT of nights since baseball games are usually played at night. My wife, Trisha, also works during the nights, working a full-time job as a manager of a musical instrument store and freelancing at night as a piano and voice instructor. So it's not unlikely that two or three nights per week, one of if not both of us are working late. I even freelance too, writing sports stories for the local newspaper at $25 a pop when the team is on the road.
And it was through that side job that I found Kami.
We used to rely on my mother-in-law to watch my son on those crazy nights when we were both working, but after she passed away, we were left looking for another sitter.
I admit, I was getting kind of desperate, as a week was coming up where Trisha would be working as would I, and we needed somebody. And had zero leads. Trisha was so depressed from her mom passing away, she was little help to actively find somebody. Which meant it was completely on me.
It all started when I was freelancing a high school softball story between our hometown Lincoln high Warriors and the visiting Falcon Falcons. It was the beginning of the season, and it was the first time I had seen Lincoln play this year (After freelancing a couple years, I had always seen a least two or three of Lincoln's softball games per year).
Now I have to admit, I generally didn't let my mind go into the gutter while watching softball. Number one, they were high school girls and number two, softball girls are generally kind of hoe-gly. But I didn't expect what I saw in the circle of this game.
It was a new girl starting at pitcher for Lincoln. She was very tall, probably pushing six feet. She had long, straight black hair tied into a pony tail and accessorized with ribbons in the Warriors' colors of red, white and blue. But what was most striking about her was her eyes. Even from a mile away, sitting behind the backstop, you could make out her intense, baby blue eyes. Add to it what looked like a model's physique under her uniform and an absolutely flawless face (even though I was dating myself a wee bit, she reminded me of the old supermodel Carol Alt), and I will fully admit that my mind went into the gutter. I asked a parent next to me what the story was on her, since I hadn't seen her before, and I got the news.
Her name was Kami Gansz. She was 14. A fireballing 14-year-old pitcher. And she was getting me, a 33-year-old man, hard.
But that didn't last for long, because I was simply enthralled by her pitching. I mean - OH. MY. GOD!
I had never seen a high school softball pitcher this good. She easily threw over 60 miles per hour, which is like a Major Leaguer that hits 90 miles per hour on the radar gun. She was mowing chicks down left and right. In fact, she struck out the first eight batters she saw, and according to my scorebook, the eight strikeouts came on just 27 pitches, and not a single one was even a foul ball. When Falcon finally made contact, hitting a foul ball that fired back at us behind the catcher, their dugout erupted in cheers like they just hit a walk-off home run.
At the end of the day, Lincoln obviously won. The score was 3-0, and check out this line for Kami: 7 innings pitched, one hit allowed (a slow dribbler to the third base side), 19 strikeouts, one walk.
She was obviously the girl of the hour, so she had to be my post-game interview. I talked to Coach Sanchez and he told me that she was a lucky find who had lived here her whole life, played club softball with the Diamond Kings club here in town, and obviously established herself as the top pitcher.
"I've coached high school for 15 years and before that, I coached NCAA Division II for 10," he said. "I have never seen a pitcher as good as her. At least not in person. She is so young and raw, she has a chance to be the next Jennie Finch."
Then I got to talk to Kami for the first time. You could tell she was so nervous talking to the newspaper reporter. She kept making shy faces, crinkling her mouth and making shifty eye contact, which was odd, considering how much of a display she put on out there.
But I mostly just scrutinized her beauty, which up close, was even more striking.
First, those big anime baby blue eyes of hers popped out thanks to a good helping of eye-liner, and she had little light freckles all over her fair face. The cutest thing was the nickname "Killa Kam" written in small, blue marker on her cheek, and both cheeks covered in blue and white sparkles. Add to it her perfectly pink lips that were covered in shiny lip gloss, and dirty thoughts were flying through my head a million miles a second.
I kind of started at her, a little dumb struck, and a little scared to start my interview. I never got like this on an interview. I became tongue tied.
"Uh, uh, so, how was the game?" I asked. Did I really ask that!? The lamest interview question possible? She struck out 19 fucking batters in 7 innings, and all I could spit out was "Doy.... uh.... how was the game, eh?" Fucking asinine!
She just looked up at me, also as shy as me, grinning away. "Uhhhh, pretty good." And she left it at that. Since she was scared too. She's obviously never been interviewed before. She was 14 fucking years old.
That's right. She was 14. And I'm a grown ass man. So it's time to stop acting like a teenager.
"I must say," I told her, regaining my composure and looking deeply into those blue eyes. "I have never seen a performance as dominant as that. I have you at 19 strikeouts and one hit allowed."
Nonchalantly, finally relaxing, she looked away and said, "Yeah, should have no-hit those bitches."
I was shocked at her answer, and Coach Sanchez overheard and rushed over. "Roger, I'm sorry. Can I talk to her real fast before you continue your interview? She's just never done this before." I laughed and shrugged and let Coach take her. All I saw was chatter and finger-wagging. And Kami making a bunch of "but, Daddy!" kind of expressions as he chastised her for what she just said to me.
Then, still looking cute as a button, but defeated, she came back over to me. "Coach told me to tell you that I give Falcon credit for that hit." She sighed. Like a 14-year-old would. "And that I'll get them next time."
I laughed and you could tell she got nervous. "Sweetie, it's OK." Wow, I don't know why I called her sweetie. It was highly inappropriate. "You don't need to be scared of talking to me. Just act natural and say what comes naturally." I moved in a bit closer to whisper to her, getting a scent of sweat and an intoxicating whiff of perfume. "You can even call the other team 'bitches' and I'll change your quote for you. If you trust me."
She smiled and loosed up a great deal at that. "OK, that's fine. Thank you." I just couldn't get over how fucking cute she looked.
So with that established, I continued on my interview.
"So at one point, the other team cheered the fact that they hit a foul ball. When they got on base those couple times, it was like they won the World Series. What were you thinking at those times?"
She thought about it for a second, deciding what was the best way to say it. "Well, I want to tell you that when I saw they were cheering a foul ball and a walk, I knew I had those, those...", then she whispered, "bitches."
Then she looked up at me and the look in her face oddly changed to something more... flirtatious.
"You're smart, Mr., Mr.?"
"Just call me Roger."
"So you're smart, Roger. How do I say that without showing poor sportsmanship or whatever?"
"Well," I began, "You could say that their reactions on those plays showed you were really getting into their heads."
She got super excited, and even jumped up and down, slapping me on the arm. "Yes, that's perfect! How did you come up with that?!"
"Well, Ms. Gansz, I could guess what athletes are going to say in response to an interview question about 90% of the time," I said. "In fact, I could have not talked to you at all and made up your quotes, and still be spot on."
"Well, I liked that you talked to me," she said. "It was fun."
"OK, Kami, good luck!" I yelled as she turned around and bounded away. Even though she was wearing the slightly baggy softball uniform, I was able to make out what looked like a world-class apple ass. Fuck, this girl had everything.
But she's 14. But she's 14. But she's 14.
About two days later, I was sitting on the front porch playing with my boy and watering the front lawn when lo and behold, a couple was walking by our house with their freakishly tall daughter. I took a closer look and it was indeed Kami taking an evening-time walk with her parents.
I was awe-struck and admittedly, a little frozen in my tracks. I wasn't sure if I should say hi to her or not. I was about as scared as when I tried to say hi to the hot girls in high school.
As she walked tortuously slow by my house, I made eye contact with her. I was able to coax out one of those docile, socially-awkward smiles from myself, the kind of you give to strangers you walk past in the supermarket.
But I was not prepared for the reaction.
"Oh my god, hi!" She brightened up and bounced, running through my lawn, avoiding my hose and coming up to give me a hug. "I didn't know you lived in our neighborhood! We live just down the street!"
I kind of didn't know what to do with that. I just looked over her shoulder, squirmed in the hug, and gave a shrug to her parents.
"Sorry. This is the guy I was telling you about. He wrote the story in the paper."
Her parents immediately brightened up and exchanged pleasantries with me.
"She's a heck of a player, Mr. and Mrs. Gansz," I said. "You should be proud."
"Well, she's an even better daughter and person," her dad said. "And we are proud. And by the way, call us Bob and Joan."
"It's a pleasure to meet you."
Just as I finished my sentence, Trisha came outside. Being nosy and shit. She immediately looked at the statuesque Kami and gave me "the eye."
"Hun, this is Kami and Bob and Joan. This is my wife, Trisha. Kami plays softball at Lincoln. And lives right down the street apparently."
Just then, my son Brandon ran up to us. He immediately looked at Kami and started flirting, getting a cute look on his face and waving.
"And this is my boy, Brandon."
"Oooooh, he is sooo cute," Kami said. "Can you say hi?"
"Hi," he said, extremely cutely, not making eye contact.
He moved closer to Kami, and it really gave me a chance to check her out without being smarmy. She was wearing a pink wife-beater shirt which certainly showed off every curve of her perfectly toned midsection. Her breasts looked small on her tall torso, but were probably a solid C-cup, and a good bit of cleavage poking out. She was so ripped, you could almost see her abs through her top, and she showed off every bit of her strong arms. Especially her right throwing arm. It was just so defined.
And I began getting hard. Oh shit!
As I went to a naughty place in my head, my wife was too busy seizing an opportunity.
"I hope I'm not out of line in asking this, but do you do any babysitting at all?" Trisha addressed Kami.
W-w-what?? I really hoped my surprise - and excitement - wasn't evident when Trisha asked the question. There was an awkward silence after the question.
"Yeah, I work late with the baseball team and we have a homestand coming up, and we don't have a regular sitter," I said. "But you don't have to. I know you have friends and school and softball..."
"I'll do it."
I couldn't hide the smile on my face. "Great! We'll pay you, what you think hun?"
"I don't know. $20 a night?"
"Sure!" Kami beamed. "I can't wait. Brandon seems like such a little cutie. It will be fun!"
"First night is two days from now," I declared. "Is that OK?"
"She'll be there," Kami's mom, Joan, volunteered. "She hasn't babysat for people before for pay, so I'll be here the first night too, if you're OK with that."
"Oh, absolutely. I think that's a good idea," Trisha said.
And I immediately relished the fact that I would be seeing a lot more of this goddess in the weeks to come.
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