Misc. Erotica Mommy’s Allstar

It was bottom of the ninth, two outs, no hits, and the clean-up batter for the opposing team was walking to the plate. The stands were packed with tense, silent faces. I sat clutching my sister and best friends’ hands in either of mine. The women pressed in close to my side on the cold stone bleachers, their bodies stiff with tension. None of us hardly dared to breathe.

It was the state championship match, and my stepson stood on the mound. He was one batter away from throwing a perfect game, and the stands were filled with scouts from all the major pro teams. Our dugout was deathly silent, with the team all wearing their hats in odd ways, strange rituals and superstitions, as they tried not to jinx their pitchers’ perfect game.

The batter stepped into the box, tapping the plate with the tip of his bat, settling into his stance. Luke gave a slight shake of his head, throwing off the catcher’s sign and then nodded. He stood smoothly, and I was struck, as always, by the graceful motions of his body. His long, lean form stood and then smoothly stepped forward, his arm suddenly a whipcord of explosive movement, as his whole body stretched out, the ball flying free.

The women beside me held their breath, and I realized I was too, as the batter whipped his bat around. The crack of bat on ball sent a jolt of fear through me, and a flinch to our side of the stands until we saw it spinning up and back, a foul.

The catcher threw Luke a fresh ball, and he nearly slapped it out of the air when he caught it. He was working himself up into an anger I saw, using the emotion to distract himself from the high stake’s moment. I glanced at my sister, Laurie, and saw she had her eyes closed, lips muttering in silent prayer. I couldn't help but grin, the woman and I had grown so close over the last few months, and her faith never ceased to surprise me. She wasn’t my real sister, of course, but we looked so similar that Luke liked to joke we were, and since our friendship bloomed, the name stuck. How Laurie squared her strong faith, with our kinky lifestyle, I'd never figured out. Her love and devotion to Luke were just as intense as mine and Jen's.

After all we'd been through, I could never doubt that.

Looking over to Jen on my other side, I saw a different emotion on her face, certainty. Her smile was wide, eyes shining with passionate excitement. Jen has been my best friend since grade school, and there’s no woman more loyal and steadfast than her. Since she found out about Luke and me, and then joined in, she’s transferred that love and loyalty to my stepson. She glanced at me and winked, clutching my hand and easing my anxiety.

I looked back in time to see Luke winding up to throw his second pitch. The ball was out of his hand faster than I’d seen all game and hit the catcher’s mitt with a crack of sound that stunned the crowd. The umpire called a ball, and I could see the batter sigh in relief. All eyes turned to the scoreboard, and a low murmur sprang up when 96 MPH appeared on the screen. That was the fastest pitch Luke had thrown all game and easily ten miles an hour faster than the opposing team’s pitcher could throw.

Luke wasted no time as he wound up for his next pitch, letting the ball fly, the batter swung, but he was far behind the pitch, and it struck the catcher's glove a half-second before the batter could get his bat around. I felt Jen and Laurie shaking beside me, and I gripped their hands tighter, unable to look away from the spectacle playing out on the field.

Luke got his sign from the catcher and was standing up to let it fly. I noticed the batter lean forward ever so slightly, crowding the plate. Just as the ball was flying in, the batter jerked back, playing it up perfectly and drawing a ball from the umpire.

Once more, Luke slapped the ball out of the air when it was thrown back to him. Stalking back up the mound, I could see him seething in anger. I joined Laurie in prayer, praying he found some calm to that temper of his and used the focusing techniques we’d worked on.

Luke stood looking out into center field, taking a couple deep breaths and then turned back to the batter. He glanced up into the stands and looked straight at us. My body was on fire as his dark gaze swept over me, Laurie and Jen. I saw him breathe a slow deep breath, the tension leaving his body. The women beside me huddled in closer, our breaths frozen in our lungs as the beautiful young man began his pitch.

There has rarely been a thing as balanced in form and function, while also being both graceful and beautiful as a perfectly thrown baseball.

The opposing batter stood with his feet rooted to the ground as the 103 MPH fastball smacked into the catcher’s glove.

“Strike three!” The umpires yell coincided with a roar from our side of the stands.

We all jumped to our feet, dancing and shouting in joy. Jen and Laurie hugged me tight as we raised our hands, waving in cheer to the boys below. I was looking and saw Luke turn to us, a giant grin of triumph on his face. He was still staring, raising one hand in a fist of victory when his team swarmed him.

Our eyes had met for one instant, long enough for me to see the delicious hopes in my young champions' mind. Long enough for him to see my smile, confirming the promised pleasures to come.

Jen, Laurie, and I left talking excitedly about the thrilling game. We drew lots of looks from men and even women, as we did wherever we went, but we ignored them. Instead, we hurried back to my house to prepare for our champions return and the wild, sexy reward we had in store for him. For months now, the three of us had been Luke’s sexual playthings, fulfilling his every desire and fantasy as well as our own.

It all began a year before with the death of my husband, Caleb. He and I had only been married for a few years, but they had all been wonderful. It was a shock to the whole family when he had a brain aneurism. One moment he was there laughing and cleaning out the garage, and the next instant, he was collapsing to the ground, dead.

I was lost those first few months after the funeral, and Luke was too. I found myself in bed most days too tired to get up, too depressed to do anything besides lay around and watch daytime TV. It was Luke who saved me, but I guess if I’m being honest, we saved one another.

The poor boy had lost his mother when he was young, lost a stepmother to a bitter divorce, and now his father. He was gone from the house most of the time, and when he was around, he was sullen and irritable.

Several months into my mourning, I got a call from his coach informing me he was failing two of his classes and was at risk of losing his baseball scholarship. He told me he’d been forced to kick Luke out of practice that afternoon for showing up with some girl, the two of them drunk. I promised the man I would speak with the boy and that something like this would never happen again.

I sent Luke a text telling him we needed to talk, and he better be home that night. Then I climbed out of bed and took a look at myself in the mirror. I looked a sight. My hair was a rats nest, face puffy from tears, and lack of sleep, and when I took a whiff of my clothes, I shuddered at the stench. Stripping and tossing the t-shirt and sweats in the hamper, I hopped in the shower.

The boy was a naturally gifted athlete, he’d lettered in four sports in high-school, and Caleb and I had loved to go to his games. Luke’s former stepmom still came to watch the young man play every once in a while, too. I never had a comfortable relationship with Laurie, she and Caleb rarely got along, but we bonded over our shared love of baseball and Luke. Laurie loved Luke, and it wouldn’t have been right to keep her out of his life entirely.

Luke had received a full-ride scholarship to play baseball for the local college and was rumored to be good enough to make the major leagues. If he was failing his classes, and at risk for being kicked off the team and out of school, then he could kiss that future goodbye. This was serious.

As I showered, I thought of my handsome stepson. He was a gorgeous young man, both talented and popular. His father’s death had come at the worst possible moment for him, with all the stress of school and sports added to it. I tried to think about how I could ease his burden, perhaps find him a good therapist.

Thinking about Luke, I couldn't help but picture him in his uniform. He looked so striking, with the tight pants showing off his perfect behind to perfection. His broad shoulders and chiseled frame were enough to make most women swoon, if they didn’t see his perfect curling blond locks or dark, piercing green eyes. His father was a charismatic man, wealthy and powerful, but he couldn’t hold a candle to Luke for sheer masculine beauty. It was like having Brad Pitt or Jude Law for a stepson.

I don't know what came over me as I stood there beneath the hot cascading water. Perhaps it was madness born of loss, and perhaps it was that I hadn’t been touched in so long. Whatever it was, I found myself leaning back against the cool tile wall. One hand wandered down to press and rub my aching sex, while the other pinched one large nipple, pulling on it gently.

The water ran down my body, and my mind filled with images of Luke’s gorgeous face and form. Of the lingering looks, he sometimes sent my way. A wicked thought began to form in my mind, but before I allowed myself to explore it fully, a powerful orgasm rushed through my body.

Knees weak, I pressed myself hard against the wall to keep from sliding down it. I was breathing heavily, body flush with both pleasure and shame. I finished my shower and put the fantasy out of my mind.

Stepping out and grabbing a towel, I called for Alexa to put on some classic rock and let the music soothe me. Drying off and wrapping myself in a towel, I went around my room and opened the curtains letting the late afternoon sunlight stream into the bedroom.​