Softball Dad Ch 01

Disclaimer:

This is a romantic and erotic story. I like to create characters that look real, and their relationship develops over time. So if you are looking for a "quick release," this is not for you. By the time the man and the woman in the story "do their thing," you will be convinced that they are really doing it.

I suppose some of the stories you can find here is a blend of fictional and autobiographical materials. It is up to you to decide how many ounces of fantasy are in this story.

*

"Hi, Dad, hurry up! I don't want to be late. This is the first practice of the season," Emily called out loud from the driveway to her dad. She packed her softball gear into the back of her father's SVU and waved enthusiastically. Clad in her green and black uniform, the 10-year-old girl waited impatiently.

Jim Kellers briskly walked out of his townhouse, his home-brewed Starbucks in a paper cup in one hand, and car key in the other. "OK, let's go. Beginning of a championship season," he smiled at his daughter. "Don't worry. It's a 15-minute drive to the ball field, and it is now only 9:40."

This was the spring time Saturday morning routine of many suburbanites: one parent driving one child to a sports event, the other driving the second kid to dance lessons, music lessons, etc. Jim and his wife Sandra were no different. They shared chauffeur duties between Emily and Jillian. Dad usually went with older sister Emily to her softball practice. He just didn't have the sensibility or interest in waiting around the dance studio while 6-year-old Jillian practiced her ballet steps to Swan Lake.

Jim liked sports. Like many Long Islanders, he went to a few hockey games in the winter, attended a few Mets games at CitiField in the summer and watched NFL games on TV when it was football season. He was not crazy enough to take over coaching duties for his child's sport team. There were many dads, and moms, who were fanatics and they acted as coach/general manager/equipment manager for their children's teams. Jim always felt that many of them were probably projecting their failed sports dreams on their kids. They would holler at their children, push them hard at practice, train and motivate them to win divisional or regional championships. Coach Shirley was like that.

Jim pulled into the parking lot adjacent to the softball field next to the elementary school that his children attended. Four or five of the kids, with their parents, arrived already. Coach Shirley's daughter, Kelsey, was the star pitcher of the Hawks. They were there also, stretching and warming up.

Shirley was probably about 40 years old. A former college softball player, she had the skills, knowledge and temperament to head up the U10 softball team. She could be loud and obnoxious, and liked to joke around a bit. Sometimes, maybe even too flirtatious with the guys. By no means was she a bad person.

As soon as she noticed Jim and Emily arriving, she turned around and walked over to greet them.

"Good morning, Coach Shirley!"

"Good morning, Emily."

Emily happily galloped over to meet her friends, who were doing soft tossing around the field.

"Good morning, Shirely."

"Good morning, Jim. Bright and early again this season, huh? Are you here to check out the 10-year-old girls?"

"NOOO, you know me, I have better taste than that. I am checking out the moms and the coach," Jim played along with the bantering.

"Ahh, that's sweet. So you are into M-I-L-Fs?" Shirley giggled as she spelled out the acronym.

"No F. Just W. Watching. Don't want to get into trouble, ma'am," Jim replied.

"So Sandra is with the younger one? And you are doing your fatherly duty here, to be the softball dad?"

"Yes, and I perform my husbandly duty admirably too."

Shirley could not help but letting out a hearty laugh, her chest bouncing a little with her laughter. She was by no means plump. Probably voluptuous would be the best description. Standing at about 5'6", her body showed a trace of the athlete that she once was. Big bones, with the right amount of muscles on her.

She walked closer to Jim, her breast about 6 inches from him. "Did you have too much caffeine this morning, or what?" she smirked. "Or you didn't have enough last night?"

"No, it's just that I have not seen you in your coaching uniform since the end of last season. That's all," Jim said.

Her brown hair was tied into a bun, covered by the cap. She rested her sun glasses above the bill. With no make-up on her face, she looked pretty in a natural and casual way. With her hands on her hips, her posture was shouting - "You want a piece of me?"

Jim could notice the outline of her sports bra under the tight jersey. Her sweat pants were too loose to reveal anything below the belt. He imagined that it would be a pair of hip hugging underwear. Probably no G-string. With all the jogging around and squatting, it would be a torture to have the fabric rubbing around her crotch. Or maybe she would enjoy it?

Jim would love to turn her around, pull down her grey sweat pants and smack her buttocks right there behind the batting cage. To inspect what kind of undies she was wearing. Maybe even to threaten her with a bat? Saying he would penetrate one of her orifices with the handle end?

"Ok, knock it off. Something serious. Your wife told me that you are into photography. This year we want to maintain a website for our softball team. Pictures of their practice, pictures of their games, pictures of the post-game BBQ. My husband is a computer geek and he can put together the site in no time. Can you be our official cameraman? Wherever we go, you bring your camera along, and keep track of our actions?"

"Sure. No problem. Sounds like a great idea. I will take pictures, organize them on my laptop and then give you a flash drive every week," Jim suggested.

"Thanks. And that gives you license to go around the field to WATCH to your heart's content," Shirley just couldn't let go of the ribbing.

"I hear ya, only W, no F," Jim smiled, as she went back to the field to get the girls ready for practice.

It was a nice mid-April morning. Gone were the snow and grey skies of the winter. The sun came out¸with few clouds in the sky. A soft breeze brought the smell of freshness of spring to his nostrils.

Jim sat down on the top of the five-tier bleachers behind the batting cage, sipping coffee from his paper cup. He looked around. More parents arrived with their kids. About half of the parents were dads. He waved to a few of them. He knew everyone by face. In a typical suburban town like Clark Village on Long Island, the kids grew up in the same neighborhood, attended the same schools. Everyone met everyone at the school's back-to-school night. Parents shopped at the same Costco, or CVS. They ate at the same IHOP, or TGI Friday.

This would not be a good place to start an affair. Not in a small town like this, where everyone knew everyone. People could tell whose car it was by the color and the model. Not that Jim was planning to hit on any of the ladies. He had been faithful in the 12 years that he was married. Setting his eyes on other women, yes, but like what he told Shirley -- just watching. And some fantasizing. But he had no intention of fooling around.

He liked the soccer moms, or the softball moms, now that he was at the softball field. When the high school team played its football games in the fall, he would attend. For the fun of the game, really. The cheerleaders were bouncing around, doing flips in their short skirts. The teenage high school boys were whistling, getting all excited. However, Jim would shake his head and look around, checking out the moms who were sipping soda or licking ketchup from their fingers after eating chicken nuggets. He was definitely into MILFs.

At about 10:15, all the girls were assembled in front of home plate. Shirley was giving the team a pep talk about team spirit, hard work and dedication. She was good with kids. The team had girls from 4

th

to 5

th

grades. The kids listened to her and respected her. No one cared a lot about winning or losing. They came here to have fun.

Shirley squatted down and had the kids form a semi-circle around her. She was talking to the kids eye to eye. From Jim's vantage point on the bleachers, her pear-shaped buttocks were in plain view. He was certain that he was not the only male member of the audience who was enjoying the view. And he had to adjust his jeans to conceal his own member's reaction.

Another car pulled into the parking lot. It was Jennifer Wilson and her daughter Maddy, Emily's best friend. Grabbing her helmet and her bat, Maddy ran towards the field to join the ongoing practice. Jennifer grabbed her water bottle, locked the car and strolled up to the bleachers. She made eye contact with everyone, nodded, smiled and then sat down with another mom in the first row.

Jennifer was one of Jim's favorite targets of WATCHING.

Sandra and Jennifer met regularly at school functions, and they dropped off their kids at one another's place for play dates regularly. Jim's wife told him that she sometimes ran into Jennifer at yoga classes too. He was friendly with Jennifer, but he never ventured beyond any acceptable social norms. She used to work at a magazine publisher, but with a 10-year old daughter and an 8-year old son, she decided to be a full time mom long ago. Her husband, Mike, was a corporate lawyer, obviously bringing home enough money to support the whole family. Jim's wife worked, so there was not a lot of socializing between the two moms during the day. But when they met, they always had a good time sharing child rearing stories.

Jennifer had a petite physique. Maybe 5'2" or 5'3", 110 pounds, in her late thirties. She was not the stunning knockout centerfold type of beautiful. She had a shapely nose and friendly eyes. Dark blond shoulder length curly hair. A woman next door kind of pretty.

Her boobs probably would fit nicely in Jim's hands. He could be kissing and licking Jennifer's lips all day. What would it feel like if she was giving a blow job?

"OK, parents. Listen up. We will have one more practice next Wednesday afternoon and then there will be a friendly match with the Hurricanes next Saturday here at 10. That will be our first inter-team play this season. Whether you can make it or not, call me or send me an email so I know we will have enough girls to field the team," Shirley 's booming voice woke Jim up from his trance. He checked his watch. It was 11:30 already.

***

At the inaugural game of the season the next Saturday, Jim brought his digital SLR camera and went around the field to capture shots from various angles. He had his telephoto zoom and standard lens ready. His daughter's team, the Hawks, was trailing 3-0 after two innings. With runners on first and second, one of the girls, Christie, hit a fly ball that fell into right field, and the base runners scampered home. Score was 3-2. Great, lots of action -- running, crossing home plate, high fives, parents cheering. Coach Shirley hugging the players. Christie stood on second base, grinning confidently, adjusting her helmet. Jim easily had taken 50, 60 pictures.

Then the next two innings went very slow. Both pitchers were wild and lots of walks were issued. Jim sat back on the bleachers, looked around, and saw Jennifer at the bottom row, to his lower left side. She was sitting next to another mom. It was a pretty warm day for late April, 60 degrees temperature, and some people wore T-shirts and shorts. Jennifer raised her right hand to shade the sun, squinting under her sunglasses. She was wearing a white tank top and blue jeans. With her right arm elevated, Jim could see her cleanly shaved underarm, the pale flesh bared around it. The outline of her round right breast was clearly visible. God, she was sexy in this innocent way.

Jim could not resist pointing his camera in her direction and pressed the shutter a few times. Then she lowered her arm, took up her phone, pushed her sunglasses up above her forehead. A faint smile appeared on her face, reading her email or text messages.

"Click, click, click." A few more shots.

Then Jim heard the crowd roar. He turned to look at the field. The other team just hit a ball to the outfield, scoring two runs. Now they were up 5-2.

The home crowd was disappointed. But they still cheered. In the bottom half of the inning, Emily had a hit and got on base. Jim walked down the bleachers to the side of the batting cage, hoping there could be some scoring opportunities to capture. A girl Cathy drew a walk. Then it was Maddy's turn at bat. Jennifer stood up and cheered. Not hollering, not foot stomping, just clapping and smiling. So classy and low key.

Maddy hit a soft grounder to first base that the first base player bobbled. Her right foot just stepped on the base plate before the other player could recover the ball and tag. Nice close-up action shots. Jim was proud of his work. One run scored! 5-3.

The score stayed that way. The Hawks lost. But everyone was in good spirits. Emphasis on the positives. Coach Shirley pulled the kids around and told them what they did well, and what to work on next time.

Jennifer came over to Jim, sunglasses in hand, asked "Did you get any good photos? Quite an exciting game." She stood to Jim's right side, leaning in to look at the LED display screen on the back of the camera.

"She smells so good," the thought floated in Jim's mind. He was 5'9", so Jennifer's head came just about to his nose. When she leaned in, her left arm touched Jim's right arm. Or was it her left breast pressing against him? He wondered.

"Yeah, I got quite a few good ones when Maddy got on base."

"Oh, show me!"

There was one showing Maddy making contact with the ball. Her eyes wide, tracking the ball, the bat was a blur.

"That is a cool shot. How did you do that? Her face is so clear but the bat is like moving," Jennifer asked.

"Oh, that one. I stepped down the aperture and slowed down the shutter."

"Huh?" Jennifer admired his tech talk even though she had no idea what it was. "And this one is Maddy jumping in midair. Oh I love this one."

"Fast shutter freezes the action."

"Let me see," Jennifer took over the camera and intently flipped through the pictures by pressing the left arrow.

Jim was very proud of his handiwork.

Then Jennifer flipped to the 5 or 6 candid shots of her. Jim suddenly realized he was busted. He felt there were ants crawling up his neck.

Jennifer did not get mad. She paused for about 3, 4 seconds. Then she flipped back and forth among those photos of herself one more time, smiling a bit. She looked up at Jim scoldingly. "That is bad. Don't do that. You will get us in trouble," she talked almost in a whisper. Then he handed the camera back to Jim, and went back to Maddy and gathered their stuff.

Jim stood there for a long moment. "What did she say? 'You will get us in trouble?' She didn't say YOU ARE IN TROUBLE, or I AM GONNA TELL YOUR WIFE." Did she have something in mind?

"Dad, Dad, let's go," Emily was by his side, his gear bag on her shoulder.

***

The next week they travelled to the neighboring town of Johnsonville to play the Hurricanes again. Most of the time, this was how teams find opponents, or to be more precise, to find scrimmage partners. So early in the season, every team was tuning up, treating the games like spring training for the kids.

All week, Jim played back the conversation he had with Jennifer, trying to decipher any hidden layer of meaning of what she said. He also checked Sandra's reaction all week, wondering if she got a call or a text from Jennifer, accusing her husband of peeping. No, there was none.

Jim considered what to do next, wondering how to go about testing the waters. He came up with an idea on Tuesday.

"Emily. Why don't you ask Maddy tomorrow at school if she and her mom wants to ride with us to the game this Saturday."

"OK."

But then Emily came home the next night saying that Maddy's dad would be bringing her to the game this week and they did not need a ride. Jim's heart sank, like a boat anchor dropping into the deep blue sea.

Friday night, the Kellers family went to eat at Applebee's. Just as they were going in, they saw the Wilsons come out. The kids were laughing and chasing one another on the sidewalk, while the dad talked with the dad and the mom talked with the mom. Jim overheard Jennifer telling Sandra that she needed to bring her son to the dentist the next morning. When they waved goodbye, Jim was looking if Jennifer showed anything on her face. But she was busy tending to the young son.

At the game visiting the Hurricanes, Jim took some more pictures, having been very careful backing up the Jennifer photos elsewhere before handing the flash drive to Coach Shirley.

May came around and the first Saturday morning Emily's team was away playing the Rockets, another neighborhood team. Since this time it was about half an hour's drive away, some parents car pooled. Jim did not bother asking Emily to investigate if Maddy's family wanted to ride together. He figured that Jennifer's message was clear -- "Don't take my pictures again and I will not make a fuss about it."

At the game, Jim saw Jennifer and they exchanged pleasantries. Her "hello" came with a smile.

Coach Shirley was using her charm to work the umpire, trying to gain some advantage even as a visiting team. She projected her usual smile, and her hands-on-hips stance, slowly rocking back and forth while talking to the umpire. Perhaps she wanted to influence the umpire to call more strikes for her pitching staff. "He probably wants to strike at your ball-shaped tits," Jim was thinking to himself.

The game was hardly 15 minutes old when an accident happened. Maddy hit a soft ground ball back to the pitcher and she was running hard to first base. Two steps before she got there, she slipped and landed awkwardly on her left side. Her shoulder banged into the base plate. She was down, obviously hurt, in pain.

Jennifer dropped her water bottle and ran towards her crying daughter. She tried to comfort Maddy, and the coaches from both teams, and the umpire, huddled to look at her. Jim put his camera away in his bag and walked over as well. From the way that Maddy's left arm stick out at a weird angle, it looked like a dislocated shoulder.

"Jennifer, I think you should bring Maddy to a hospital to check things out," Shirley said. Then he turned to Jim, "Why don't you drive the two of them? She needs to sit in the back to hold onto her daughter. I will bring your daughter home. And Jenn, leave your car keys with me. I will make sure someone drive your car home for you. Do you want me to call your husband?" For all her naughtiness and obnoxiousness, Shirley was a good take-charge organizer.

Jennifer handed Shirley the key to her minivan and said, "Mike went to the City this morning. It might take him a while to come back. But I will call him on the way to the hospital. And, Jim, are you ok driving us? I am sorry that you have to leave Emily with someone."

Jim brushed aside any kind of erotic thoughts and promptly agreed to bring the injured girl to the hospital. The group conferred and decided the closest one was Southside General. They quickly created a make-shift sling out of a jacket and someone found ice from a cooler and made an ice pack for Maddy's shoulder.

***

After they arrived at the hospital, Jim helped Jennifer walk Maddy into the triage area before he parked his SUV. When he went back into the waiting room, Jennifer was nervously clutching a clipboard with all the insurance forms to fill out, but she looked longingly into the curtained area where Maddy was being tended to. Jim asked her for her insurance card and took over the clipboard, "You go ahead and be by her side. She is very scared."