by Blue Stour
She slid between the cool sheets again but this time her warm flesh against the fabric was arousing in its own right. Was she really going to go through with this? Phone sex, with a stranger no less. Her excitement far outweighed her uneasiness.
“Kade, you there?” She said after a brief pause.
“Right here, gorgeous. You settled? You ready to tell me about those beautiful tits of yours?”
A shockwave ran through her body and her nipples immediately tightened.
“Not shy are you, Mr. Umpire?”
“Nothing to be shy about. I find you sexy as hell and just the thought of you has my dick hard as fuck.”
He released a low hum that vibrated against her ear. Without a touch, he dampened her core.
“Pinch your nipples for me, Jane,” he commanded her. “I’ve thought of playing with your breasts.”
“You did?” she asked in astonishment.
“That tight blue shirt you had on showed off the goods pretty damn well. You like your tits pinched or you want them in my mouth?”
She was done being shy and over being embarrassed. The image of Kade’s dark head at her chest with his hot mouth suckling her nipples was too seductive to escape.
“I want your mouth on me,” she moaned as she allowed her hand to roam, squeezing her nipples and lightly tugging as she imagined Kade’s tongue circling her puckered tips.
The fact that she was getting into it was a fucking turn on. Nothing’s better than a woman not afraid to tell a man what she wants in the bedroom.
“I want to suck on them and hard,” he added. “You like it hard or gentle?”
“I want it hard!”
Jane was so heated up that her sex actually ached. Her breasts were so sensitive that her own touch had begun to hurt, such a delicious pain.
His hand clenched tight around his shaft; he worked himself over as if he had to for his next breath.
“I wanna hear you touching that pussy for me. Mmm…damn that sexy little moan of yours has me stroking twice as fast. You will feel my hands on your body soon enough but for now I need you to do it for me.”
Lord, she wished the sexy man with the piercing green eyes was there at that moment. Wishing she could run her hands over his broad shoulders and down his finely tuned body. Tracing her fingers over his firm chest then stopping to feel the ridges over his stomach. Jane released a light mewling noise, wishing it was his fingers at her damp slit and not her own.
“I know that sound,” he excitedly surmised. “You’re rubbing your clit aren’t you, gorgeous?”
“Yes,” she passionately purred, way beyond denial.
“Good girl, imagine it’s my fingers or my tongue tasting that honey. Licking you, drinking up all those juices and fucking you with my tongue.”
“Are you jerking off, Kade?”
“Are you kidding me? I’m stroking off so hard to the thought of your lips wrapped around my cock.”
Jane let out a feminine moan and his dick twitched to her response.
“I want you to get yourself off while I’m balls deep in your throat.” The rough breathing on his side of the line was so brazenly raw that she had to fight to control her upcoming orgasm.
“Kade?”
He knew without another word from her that she was about to come and he was going to join her.
“You like the thought of sucking my dick, huh? Come on, gorgeous; come for me. Let me hear you.”
His slapping came faster and harder than before.
“Ohhhh…Kade, oh God!” Jane came, gasping his name as she rode wave after wave flowing through her body.
“That’s right, fuck, I’m going to…”
Kade’s groan extended her orgasm. She heard her own blood rushing through her head as she tried to regain her composure. Silence fell on the line beyond their combined sporadic breathing for a few moments.
“Shit, gorgeous, I wish you were here right now.”
She didn’t need to know he was lying. He got off and that’s all he wanted from her. Not that he’d tell her that.
“Night, Kade.” Jane said as she yawned. “This is definitely a nightcap that worked wonders.”
“Goodnight, gorgeous.”
Dammit, he’d really have to remember her name before they went out.
That afternoon at the Mexican Menu, the more they talked, the more they seemed to be hitting it off. Jane was in awe of being out with a former professional athlete, and Kade was honored to be sitting with someone so beautiful.
Characteristically, the conversation turned to him bringing up his past. He began telling her an invented sob story about how he was dumped by his high school sweetheart and had never recovered. Even if the great guy-turned-player’s “neglected-by-a-lost-love” story didn’t work, Kade would invent something that was a sure sympathy-getter, a.k.a. pussy magnet.
As he had learned in the minor leagues with his teammates, his near-professional status guaranteed him one-of-two things. His esteemed vocation ensured he could either get his dick sucked or fuck anyone he wanted. No matter the city or what girl, the groupies of the sport he played had made him and his teammates cocky enough to believe that they could have anyone they wanted, anytime and anywhere.
“What are you doing after your game tonight, Kade?” his noon-lunch date asked.
“I’m not sure,” he replied after finishing off his burrito. “I have to ump at six, but it’s a double header; probably won’t be done until close to eleven. As much as I love umpiring now that I’m done playing, it does wear me out—maybe I’m just getting old. I’d say I’ll probably just go home and go to bed; I had an early morning for my West Virginia trip earlier.”
“Aw, c’mon,” she sadly remarked, knowing that he had the summers off. “You don’t have to teach tomorrow so why so early? I might be able to get out. Billy is with his dad.”
Kade knew what she was hinting at. Unfortunately, that went against his rules. No woman, ever, would step foot in his home. He’d rather do her at her house, in a driveway, or in a parking lot than have a woman know where he lived.
The more they talked, the more she wanted him. Divorced, like her, Kade had become quite the smooth talker, also like her, since his college years.
As she talked to him, her legs became flirtatious under the table. The slow tracing of her feet on his shin quickly became furious. At first, her feet slowly slid from around his knee down to his ankle. Her light traces were extremely provocative.
Having removed her shoes, she surrounded his left calf with her bare feet. At first, her right foot slid from above his calf to his ankle. Her left foot began grinding his kneecap.
Meanwhile, she continued talking while her lips and tongue were seductively playing with her straw.
“When can I see you again, Mr. Toney?” Jane asked as she leaned forward, twirling her straw with her tongue. “I want you!”
Shit, was he really getting old?
Not only had she been throwing him signs all during the lunch but she really wanted to fuck his brains out. Yet, all he could think of was getting out of there.
Not even a full twenty-four hours earlier he jerked off to the thought of her on her knees in front of him. That afternoon, Jane made it pretty clear she’d be more than open to that exact scenario. The phone sex was hot but now the need to shove his dick down her throat was inexplicably gone.
Why was he even here and since when had become such a pussy?
“Mmm,” Kade groaned as he shook his head before standing and spitting out another lie. ”I really do have to go, now, Jane. If plans change, I’ll call you; I promise.”
Mysteriously, Kade got up and walked away. The younger woman, meanwhile, was left behind, horny and mystified. She had been stroking his left leg with her foot, making it obvious
that she wished it were her hands jerking him off. As she stroked faster, the intense eye contact became flammable.
Her continually licking her straw had them both on fire. Her shoeless toes teased his muscular shin. For one brief instant, before he waved the proverbial white flag, she reached her toe inside of his shorts, tracing his balls with her foot.
Chapter 12
Later that night, he went to his game. Wearing sunglasses, a baseball cap, shorts, and a Cincinnati Reds T-shirt to match his hat, Kade parked on a side-road, across from the baseball field. It was over ninety degrees, so fortunately he found a parking spot alongside the road, underneath some shady branches. With just over a half an hour until first pitch, he could take his time.
As he stepped out of his car, he knew he looked good. At thirty-four, Kade never even paid attention anymore, though. Nonchalantly, he walked to his trunk, leaving the door open so he could hear the radio better.
“What’s up, sir?” a young kid on the sidewalk, probably ten or eleven, said to Kade as he rode past him on his bike. “Sure is hot.”
“Sure is,” Kade nodded to the little guy as he reached the rear of his car to retrieve his umpire attire.
Opening the trunk, he took a deep breath, breathing in some fresh Kentucky air; he loved the mountainous state so much, he refused to leave even after his baseball days ended. With his trunk showing nothing but all kinds of umpire gear, Kade began rifling through his organized equipment.
He sat his plate gear: shoes, pants, hat, belt, ball bag, and cup aside. It was still almost a half-an hour before game time. Most of the teams’ players were arriving and were warming up on the field.
As he stepped out of the car, he was jamming to his favorite rockin’ country music, “Backroads,” by The Chase Sanford Band. Sipping from his extra-large fountain drink, Kade was about to obliviously put on a show. With the trunk open, he removed his flip flops, sunglasses, and baseball cap.
Standing only in his shorts, he was about to put on his umpire attire. However, he didn’t realize he had an audience.
Reaching just below his waist, he grabbed his T-shirt with both hands, singing along with the stereo the entire time.
“We’re not just country,
Unlike the rest.
A little backroads,
I must confess!”
While he lifted his shirt over his head, his tone, muscular arms unintentionally flexed. His sexy, broad shoulders and cut biceps were equally impressive.
By no means was he bodybuilder-like; however, no man could have appeared more physically fit without using weights.
“You stripping or what?” He heard from a house directly across the sidewalk, to his left, as he was rockin’ in his lonesome—he thought--to the Chase Sanford Band.
“OH MY GOD, NO!” The embarrassed umpire answered as he instantly stopped. “I’m an umpire at the baseball game at six o’clock over there. I am sorry ma’am.”
“Don’t be,” the woman flirtatiously comforted him with a devilish grin. “I was hoping to see even more. Ya know, you still have twenty minutes if your game’s not ‘til six. Want to come on up for a minute?”
Well, that was a first, Kade thought. He had been with numerous women; it was new for one to just call him off of the street for a quickie or blow job. Obviously, she was more than just an outgoing flirt.
His mind raced. As bad as he wanted to, there was no way he was going up there; that just wouldn’t be smart. Besides, she was probably married. Either that or she was doing that to make her boyfriend who probably sitting inside the house jealous. A quick BJ wasn’t worth the possible consequences. There was no way . . .
“I have a game; can you get me off in five minutes?” Kade interrupted his conscious, reasoning mind.
With a laugh, she answered. Undoubtedly, she told him that wouldn’t be any trouble.
“Baby, I don’t need three,” the woman conceitedly reported. “Hurry up, and you’ll see.”
Without wasting time with formal introductions, his shorts were around his ankles practically as soon as he crossed the threshold. Words weren’t necessary. Even Kade, who usually liked to run the show when it came to sex, just let her lead the way. After all, the woman obviously knew what she was doing; who the hell was he to interrupt her?
His five minute time restraint had him handing everything over to her. He watched as her head bobbed up and down and clenched his jaw as she took him deep. She used her hands to bring him to the brink five times faster than normal. Kade held his breath as she fondled his balls, first with her hands, then with her tongue.
Oh yeah, girl had skills.
Soon enough he was at the cliff and free falling into oblivion as spurt after spurt shot into her mouth. He gave her the salty cream she had been working so hard to get.
“Wow; that was amazing,” Kade sincerely told her as he pulled up his boxers and shorts—four minutes later, by the way. “But I’m going to be late. I have to hurry; bye.”
Without so much as a hug goodbye, Kade was out the door.
He didn’t even bother to exchange names. In typical-male fashion, he got his and had to go.
Frantically, he changed into his umpire attire behind his car and raced across the street. Hurrying through the gate, he met the coaches, collected payment for umpiring the game and readied for first pitch at 6:01; that all worked out perfectly.
As Kade stepped behind the plate, he put on his mask. Then, he pointed to each coach, asking if they were ready. Next, he asked the catcher and the batter. Finally, he screamed to the pitcher as he pointed.
“Play ball!”
Chapter 13
“Here’s what we got,” Kade began explaining to his partner, the field umpire, during a 12-U (ages twelve and under) baseball game. “We have no catch to start the play. I saw you signal that the right fielder did not catch the ball on the dive. The runner on second moved to third and stays. The runner on first stays, as well, because it was not caught. The runner advancing to second is out because he didn’t run and the fielder threw the ball into second and forced him out.”
Kade was an intimidating force behind his mask, between the lines. Broad shoulders and a strong back led to a slightly tapered waist. Many times men saw him as a threat but usually women saw him as sexy but possibly more. After all, since the man taught elementary children and umpired at many children’s games, wouldn’t that mean if he wasn’t a family man that perhaps he wanted to be?
In just his third year of umpiring at that point, Kade had been to numerous umpiring clinics and spent many-a-night up late, studying rules and situations. As a former professional baseball player, he had quickly become an officiating expert on the field.
As he turned to walk away from his obviously confused partner umpiring the bases, who was in just his first year, Kade strolled back to his position behind the catcher. Amidst some boos and jeers by the normally unknowledgeable fans, a coach raced out of the third-base dugout to argue.
“How does the runner on third get to advance, ump?” a coach began barking. “He never tagged up! He’s out because my shortstop touched the base!”
“Coach,” Kade calmly said, smiling as he usually did on the field, “that runner stays at third and the batter stays at first; the ball was not caught. The runner who was going to second is out because the ball was not caught, and he didn’t legally advance before he was forced out.”
Kade’s usual calm and informatively accurate descriptions always had a way of diffusing any potential situation. As a teacher, Kade had learned to thoroughly explain things to irate parents. As an umpire, he took the same approach to angry coaches.
Walking past the pitcher’s mound toward home plate, Kade was looking as professional as ever. He had umpired everything from Coach Pitch (8-U) to college baseball to a 40-and-over league during the fa
ll. Therefore, he had successfully dealt with every situation that he had faced.
Before every game, as with any good umpire, he arrived at the ball fields at least thirty minutes prior to the scheduled first pitch—unless he was side tracked by a . . . female participant; that had been known to happen a time or two--not that Kade would ever complain. As he had learned from Jorge, “Appearance is 90% of the battle for an umpire; look professional, act professional, and present yourself professionally, and you’ll be treated as such.”
The first thing he did before every game was polish his black shoes in the trunk, if they weren’t freshly polished. Depending on if he was working alone or in as the umpire in the field, he would get his plate or field shoes ready.
After that, he would select one of his clean and pressed shirts. He always kept a few shirts ready; he had umpire shirts colored navy blue, powder blue, red, and cream.
Then, depending on his particular umpiring position for that game, he got out one of his two pairs of pants. He had regular, heather-gray slacks he wore to umpire in the field. Behind the dish, he would wear the same type pants, just a little larger to fit over his shin guards that he wore for protection behind the plate.
Also in his trunk, he carried two umpire caps with him. The first was a smaller bill to use behind the plate so he could remove his mask with ease. The other was just a regular-sized cap he wore as a field ump.
After being completely dressed he inserted the most important piece of umpiring equipment, his cup. He always had two cups—no jock strap--in the trunk of his car. If there ever were a time he didn’t have a cup with him, he would not ump, even 10-U baseball.
Even with one of those younger kids pitching, the DING sound of the baseball hitting the hard cup was still enough to drop any umpire to his knees right there behind home plate. That drop is extremely painful for any guy, even with a protective cup covering his business.
Like every umpire should, Kade took tremendous pride in his appearance. He looked like a “professional.”
Back on the field, after the well-known umpire explained his ruling and calmed the coach, he reached home-plate area. Kade took out his broom and cleaned the plate before resuming play.
