‘Why did I agree to do this?’ I asked myself as I examined the pink athletic top and gold-colored running shorts. I turned the top over and saw my last name, Vaughn, in royal blue letters. “I’m going to look stupid,” I said aloud, and then I changed into the uniform. Somehow white socks that went just below my knee and white tennis shoes did not add to the outfit.
The apartment complex baseball team was playing against a team of police officers at a field down the street. We had not even had a practice. I had always enjoyed watching baseball, but that didn’t mean I had any skill. I had only lived here a few months, and at the time I signed up, I was feeling lonely; I thought it might be a good way to meet people, maybe even someone special.
With a fresh set of contacts and an extra layer of underarm deodorant, I set out to walk to the field. I took a bag with a few bottles of water; I locked the door and slipped the key into the little pouch in my running shorts. The walk to the park was pleasant. The temperature was in the mid 70s, and it felt slightly cool to me. I knew it would warm up as the day went on. I looked down into my bag to make sure I remembered my sunscreen. It was there.
As I neared the field, I saw a large number of men and women dressed in black tank tops that said ‘police’ on the front. They were also wearing black running shorts--very short running shorts. Their socks were black, and most had black athletic shoes. We were going to lose. These players looked ready to take on a professional team.
About thirty minutes later, I was standing in the outfield. I had no glove, not that a glove would have helped me. The police team already had three runs when Mark Shatner stepped up to bat. I only knew his last name then from the back of his shirt. He was a little more muscular than most, but the most distracting thing about him was that his package was definitely larger than the other men. I tried to focus on the bat; he should have been wearing a looser-fitting pair of shorts.
Shatner smacked the ball straight to me. I put my hands out to protect my face, and somehow, when the ball hit my hands, I grabbed onto it. It hurt like fucking hell. The force of the hit knocked me off balance. I fell, but I managed to hold onto the ball. The first out. The only out. When the score reached twelve-zero in the top of the first inning with only one out, our team decided to concede.
As we all gathered near home plate to thank everyone for a good game, I noticed that several of the guys made a beeline to Shatner. While I found his crotch an interesting draw, I found his smile to be the feature to which I was most attracted. I found my bag and took a drink of water. My hands still hurt. A few of my teammates told me that I made a good catch. I did not feel a connection with anyone. I put my foot on the bench and retied my shoe when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“I cannot believe you caught that ball.”
I looked up, and he was standing next to me.
“I’m Mark Shatner.” He put his hand out to shake mine.
“Rick Vaughn.” I put my hand out. “Be careful; your ball packed a punch.”
He smiled and took my hand. “It’s really red. Next time, I'll loan you my glove.”
“Next time?”
“Sure. In the meantime…”
A man named Johnson, from my team, walked up and handed Mark a card. “Call me.” He winked and smiled before walking off.
“I bet you get that a lot.”
“Yeah, but not usually from guys I’m interested in.” He sounded a little sad.
“You were saying?” I asked.
“I thought I could buy you a burger or something. To make up for injuring your hand.”
I stood directly in front of him. We were of equal height, but while I weighed about one-fifty, he had to be at least one-eighty. Part of that had to be that hefty-sized penis in his pants but the rest was all muscle. I noticed a little bit of hair sticking out of his shirt as well as beautiful sapphire eyes. What could I say? “I’d love to have a little bit of lunch with you. There’s a place about a half of a mile that way.” I pointed. “Want to walk?”
“I have my car. Why don’t we take it, and we can go for a walk around the lake trail after eating.”
“I don’t have any ID or anything,” I told him.
“Trust me; I’m a cop,” he said flatly.
“I bet that line works on almost everyone,” I laughed.
He smirked. “Let’s go.”
We began walking toward his car. He waved a good-bye at the few remaining players who were still gathered around the plate. My team had scattered, probably too humiliated to hang around.
Mark took us through the drive through and headed to the nearby excuse for a lake. He parked under a tree, and we munched on our burgers while giving a brief bio.
I found out that he had always wanted to be a police officer. He majored in forensics in college and had been working here in town ever since. He’d never been married, dated guys infrequently, he admitted that most guys wanted to date him because he was a cop or because they noticed the size of his dick. But, as he admitted, that’s not really the basis of a healthy relationship. He also told me that he wasn’t a top and that disappointed any size queens that dated him for that reason.
I told him that I was a CPA working for Agricorp, one of the larger employers in town. I didn’t date very often, had no long term relationships, and, since he was open with me about it, I was a total top. I’d tried to bottom once, and I hated it.
He smiled when I said that. “If we get along and get to that point, we’re a match in that area,” he said.
I got the distinct impression that he liked me, but he wanted to take things slow. At certain points in our conversation, I wanted one of us to jump in the other’s lap and begin making out, but then things would lull, and I just enjoyed talking to him. There was a different flavor about this date; most first dates for me had been tense. Would he like me? Would he want me to spend the night? How far would things go.
Things just seemed easy with Mark. We finished our fries and got out of the car. I tossed our trash in the nearest garbage can, and we went on a little walk. Mark talked about the stresses of his job and why he enjoyed it. I listened. At one point, he held my hand. I wanted to kiss him, but I resisted. Slow, I told myself. He’s definitely worth ‘slow’.
After the walk, he took me back to my place. We exchanged phone numbers. I told him that I had honestly had a good time and wanted to see him again. I got out of the car and walked to the front of his car. He got out and stood in front of me. I was on the curb, so he was looking up at me. He was incredibly handsome.
“I just need to tell you,” he said, “that you are different from every other guy I’ve known. I can tell that you’re really special.”
I sucked my lower lip into my mouth and pressed down on it with my teeth. He made me feel tingly all over.
“I do want to see you again,” he added.
I leaned forward and kissed him gently. I brushed his bangs back with my finger. I wanted to be able to touch him.
“I’ll call later.” Then he turned and drove away while I watched.
I ran up to my apartment and jumped into the shower. As the hot, steamy water caressed my body, I imagined that Mark was next to me, kissing me, holding me, touching me. I resisted the desire to jack off. I wanted to do that later, gently, with lubricant while I fixed the image of Mark in my mind.
Once out of the shower, I dressed in some khaki shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. I did a little cleaning and a load of clothes before sitting down to read a book. My thoughts kept wandering back to the walk near the lake. I reread the same line in the book, but it was no use. I couldn’t concentrate. I walked over to the window and looked out.
Storm clouds in the distance had darkened the skies. I thought I saw a flash of lightning. The ringing of the phone startled me. Mark was calling me.
“I couldn’t wait,” he said.
“I’m glad. I was thinking of you,” I replied.
“No. I couldn’t wait to see you. I’m in the parking lot.”
My heart started to beat faster. “206. I’m in 206; I’ll come down.” With the phone in my hand, I was out the apartment door and down to the parking lot in an instant. Mark was standing next to his car in khaki shorts and a shirt that matched mine except for the size.
He smiled broadly. “Shirt buddies,” he said.
He opened his arms and hugged me. “How’d you know to wear this shirt?”
“It’s my favorite one,” he laughed.
“Come on up.”
Once inside the apartment, he pulled me close to him. “I wanted to take things slow; I really did. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you and how good it felt to hold your hand. When I was in the shower, I kept imagining what it would be like to have you there so I could scrub your back and press your warm, wet body next to mine. No one’s ever made me feel this way. Honestly, I feel as if I’m going to bust.”
I kissed him. I opened my mouth to let his tongue explore me. Then I explore his mouth. I felt him become hard, and I pushed my hardness against him. I unbuttoned his shirt, and he unbuttoned mine. We pressed our chests together. He was mildly hairy, and I was smooth. There was electricity as we rubbed against one another.
I had started to lead him to the couch, but it began to storm. The rain beat against the window, and the roll of thunder changed my mind. I took him to my bedroom. He glanced at the bed and then at me.
“I’m certain,” I told him. I dropped to my knees and unbuttoned his pants. I freed his erection. While I’d seen larger ones in videos, it was the largest I’d seen in person. My hand would not close around it. I wrapped my lips around the head and tried to slide it in. I was able to get a few inches into my mouth and still rub my tongue on the bottom of the shaft. It seemed inadequate to me, but Mark moaned with delight. As I continued to make him moan, I began to wonder what it would feel to have this thick penis inside my ass. The thought frightened me a little; I hadn’t enjoyed getting fucked the one time I’d allowed my partner to do it. Would it feel better with this man?
“My turn,” he announced, and he lifted me, removed the rest of my clothes, and placed me on the bed. My stiff cock went straight into his mouth. His nose was buried in my bush, and I was sure the tip of my dick had popped into his throat.
“Oh, fuck, that feels good,” I moaned. His tongue swirled around my rod inducing a euphoric dizziness. Had I not already been flat on my back, I think I might have fallen over. My eyes fluttered shut; I was sure that my eyes had rolled back in my head. I began to float; my breathing was deep and forced when the sensation around my dick stopped and was replaced with a tightness. I forced my eyes open to see Mark squatting over me. Half of my cock was already inside him. His head, bent forward, had a look of awe on it. He continued to slide down my pole, and when no more of me would enter him, he made small twerking motions with his hips.
I grabbed the comforter with my hands and balled it into my tight fists. “Fuck,” I squealed. There were no words to describe the sensation of his tight ass holding onto my cock and massaging it. His balls bounced on my abs as his dick slapped my belly. I came in massive squirts of juice as I had never come before. When I finished giving him my load, he slid forward and off me. My cock went soft. My body had no energy in it; he had taken it all.
Mark pulled me next to him and rested on his side looking at me. He circled my nipple with his finger.
I pulled in another breath. When I regain my strength, I want to do that to you. I saw him smile.
“When I told you I was a bottom only, I meant it. But after being with you, I want to try everything again. I was hoping you’d say that.”
“I want to try everything with you,” I told him.
“When I was learning to assess inebriation, I was told there were six primary positions of gaze. I thought they said ‘gays’, and I thought there had to be more. Do you want to try all of them?”
“All of them,” I said. “Every single one.”
