"Well, here he comes," Madeline said, her voice dripping with both sarcasm and annoyance. "Mr. Popularity."
Madeline nodded to the far end of the Little League field. Her best friend, Michelle, followed Madeline's gaze. She immediately spotted Maddy's husband, Scott. It was hard not to. He was a stand-out in any crowd: tall, tan, and ruggedly handsome. Today he was dressed in jeans, t-shirt, and a Red Sox baseball hat.
Shelly soon saw what Maddy meant when she referred to him as "Mr. Popularity". Scott was warmly greeted by the small crowd of parents and grandparents sitting along the third baseline. Scott paused to say hello, while scanning the crowd seated along the opposite first base line. His eyes finally found Madeline and Michelle, and waved in their direction. He started to make his way toward their side of the field.
"Scott!" a young woman shouted, intercepting his path.
"Fucking slut," Maddy whispered under her breath.
"Madeline!" Shelly exclaimed, shocked at her best friend's language and crude insult. She looked over at Maddy, who was currently giving her husband, or the woman - quite probably both - an icy glare.
"Maria Vasquez." Madeline hissed. "She's the reason I wouldn't let Scott coach Little League this year."
Shelly turned her attention back to the pair on the far side of the field. The woman was cute: short, at least a foot shorter than Scott, with dark, wavy hair that went midway down her back. She wore a Little League team T-shirt, the same color as one of the teams currently on the field. It was at least one size too small and hugged her curves so tight, it looked like a second skin. It was cut-off at the bottom, so that a generous expanse of her flat tummy was visible. The white shorts she wore to compliment the outfit and were even tighter. Michelle thought she looked sexy.
"That cunt is little Rico's mom," Madeline continued. "Last year, I caught her taking pictures of Scott when he coached Rico's T-ball team."
Maria now had one arm around Scott's waist, and had turned him as she pointed excitedly to a little Latino boy in the batter's box. The boy was enthusiastically practicing his swing at imaginary pitches. Shelly guessed that was "little Rico".
Shelly turned her attention back to Scott and Maria. Maria had her phone out now. She was leaning into Scott, and appeared to be showing him pictures on her phone. Her hand would swipe, right to left, as Scott smiled and said things that made her look up and flash a brilliant smile toward him.
Rico was up to bat now, and Scott called out to give him some encouragement. "Rico! Hands touching - there you go. Elbow up and back!"
The little boy adjusted his stance immediately. The first pitch came, Rico swung, and smacked the ball hard. It was a line drive hit right between the 2nd and 3rd basemen. Even from their vantage point on this opposite side of the field, Madeline and Michelle could hear Maria squeal. She was jumping enthusiastically, one hand on Scott's shoulder, her boobs bouncing up and down with her momentum.
"Run, Rico, run!" Scott shouted. "Hustle, hustle, hustle."
Michelle noticed that Scott's attention was squarely on Rico. He paid no attention to the pretty little thing that was shaking all her assets right beside him. Madeline was jealous, and perhaps there was more to the story that she hadn't told Michelle, but it looked to her like Scott was just doing the thing he loved: coaching a kid on how to play the game of baseball.
Rico rounded first, saw that the ball was already being tossed to the 2nd base player, and eased his way back to first base. The smile on his face was brighter than his mom's, as he looked over to his former coach. Scott gave him two thumbs up, as did Maria.
Scott patted Maria on the back, she pulled him close for one last hug, then she clung to the chain-link fence while Scott made his way toward the far side of the field - toward Madeline and Michelle.
Another woman approached Scott, this one a tall, slim, red-headed gal. Scott smiled when she greeted him and walked over to her.
"Goddamnit," Michelle muttered.
"You're so jealous, Madeline," Shelly said, laughter bubbling in her voice, "It's really not becoming of you."
Madeline sighed.
"It just seems like every divorced train-wreck enrolls their little devil-spawn into Little League, and they all want my husband to fill the father-figure void in their miserable, wretched lives."
"Oh, honey," Michelle giggled, patting her friend on the arm. "Of course they enroll their kids in Little League for some male adult role-modeling, but that doesn't mean they are looking at your husband as a conquest for their bedroom!"
Madeline stewed for a moment, watching the redhead talking with her husband. She was beautiful! Long, red hair that handled down her back in tight curls, creamy white skin, long slender legs, and curves in all the right places. She, too, was pointing on the field to one of the kids. Scott turned to the field, shielded his eyes from the sun, and then nodded when he spotted a familiar face in the outfield: a freckled, skinny, redheaded boy.
"Michelle, will you help me?" Madeline asked, turning suddenly toward her friend, a serious expression on her face.
"Sure sweety," Michelle replied, still watching the pair and taking a long sip from her water bottle. "You know I'd do anything for you."
"I want you to try and seduce my husband."
Michelle spayed a mouthful of water everywhere, as she nearly choked.
"What?!?" Michelle said, wiping water quickly from her chest and bare legs.
"Not really, I mean. Not all the way. I just want to find out if Scott is the type of guy who will take an interest in another woman, if given the chance."
"Madeline, that's crazy. Scott would never-"
"Please, Michelle, that's what I want to find out. What would he do if another woman was obviously coming on to him. You're my best friend, and someone I know I can trust. You're the only one who can help me find out."
Shelly's thoughts were twisting wildly. There were things Madeline just didn't know, like the reason they had become best friends was because after Madeline and Scott had moved into the neighborhood three years ago, Shelly had seen Scott topless as he mowed their lawn. It had driven her crazy, so the next day, she brought a pie over to their house as a welcoming present. She had feigned like she wanted to welcome the new family to the neighborhood, but she really wanted to get a closer look at her hunky, new neighbor.
Fortunately, she and Madeline had hit it off immediately, and became best friends. That had cooled her interest in Scott considerably, because she didn't want to betray her new friendship.
But there was more. Things she had never told Madeline, like the fact that she, Michelle, was a serial adulteress. Oh, she was a "happily" married woman, but she had cuckolded her husband on their honeymoon six years prior. Since then, she had caused at least four divorces with her wayward affairs ("Sorry, not sorry," she would tell in the mirror). In fact, she had planned on making Scott and Maddy divorce number five that fateful afternoon, so many years ago. But then she had connected and bonded so deeply with Madeline.
Since then, Michelle expressly and purposefully avoided going to their house when Scott was home, instead preferring afternoon coffee sessions while Scott was at work, or taking Madeline out shopping or drinking on girls night. All because Michelle knew well that she had a complete lack of self-control: she didn't want Scott to fill her lustful thoughts as he had when she saw him that first day mowing his lawn. Out of sight, out of mind.
"Madeline, I don't know ..." Shelly started, seeing that Scott had started walking toward them again, the redhead returning to her seat under the shade of a large oak tree.
"Please, Shelly?" Madeline pleaded. "I mean, you're probably right, he won't do anything, but I just have to find out."
Shelly scowled, and turned to her friend with one eyebrow raised. Maddy's attention was still on Scott and the redhead. She never saw Shelly's soured expression.
'Bitch, please!' Shelly thought to herself. 'He won't do anything? Really? Honey, if I make a move on a guy, then he is absolutely balls-deep in me before the night is over.'
Shelly had a momentary vision of herself naked, legs parted wide and high in the air. Her BFF's husband had his cock buried deep inside her and was pumping her slow and steady.
"Unnnh," Shelly moaned out loud. She squirmed on the bleacher seat, squeezing her thighs tight and shifting them back and forth.
"Please?" Madeline repeated, mistaking Shelly's moan of pleasure for a moan of annoyance or disagreement.
Shelly watched Scott approach now, still some twenty yards away. She was mentally undressing him, her memories flashing back to his muscled, tone and firm body, as he pushed the heavy lawn mower around his yard. His body had glistened with perspiration in the hot, afternoon sun.
Now, in her mind's eye, his body was glistening again, as he pounded into her rhythmically. She was lying naked atop Madeline's kitchen table, the same table where they had gossiped and shared many cups of coffee. As her imagination carried her lustful thoughts along, she became only more aroused. Now, she imagined her feet up, one on each of Scott's shoulders. He had his hands around each of her thighs. As he thrust his hips forward, he would also pull her thighs toward him. Shelly started to feel real dampness between her legs.
"Oh, fuck it," Shelly said under her breath, half-thinking she was talking to herself. "I'll do it."
"Oh, thank you!" Madeline said, clapping her hands then hugging her friend close. "You're the best friend ever."
Madeline whipped out her cell phone, pulling up apps and immediately scheming on exactly how they would pull this off.
"Let's see. Saturday. This Saturday will be perfect. I'll tell Scott that I'll be at my mom's with Tommy. We'll spend the day there."
Shelly continued to watch Scott as he sauntered over, starting to scheme her own plans.
