Brothers Pt 02 1

A Tale of Two Brothers

A.J. Roye

All Rights Reserved 2023

Chapter 8

I woke in my bed to find Robin standing at the entrance to my room.

Dressed in her trainer's clothes. She looked ready for work.

Navy pants with lots of pockets on the legs. Black athletic shoes. A Royals polo shirt with pockets on the short sleeves. Both garments form fitting to her body, with a little play in the fabric so she can kneel, or bend over, during work. Her perky ass looks sexy in those pants. Her sexy curls, again, pushed back out of her face with a wide, Royals blue headband. A fantastic smile and happy face. A cup of coffee in her hand.

"Good fantastic morning," I groaned, in a sleepy voice, through my pillow... lying on my stomach. "You look great, by the way."

She didn't offer any words. Only her fantastic smile. I groaned again, and rose to a sitting position on the bed... feet on the floor. I ran my hand through my hair. Groaning again. I was about to say something...

"For the first time," she offered, in a sexy, soft voice. "I'm sore, after having sex. Fantastic sex, by the way."

"I'm sore, too," I offered, as I stood. My morning wood on full display behind my thigh length athletic shorts. I noticed Robin glancing at my woody. I took a few steps toward her.

"You should be," responding to my soreness complaint. "Screwing two women in one day. Screwing them again, when they asked for it."

"I haven't done that since college." I stopped in front of her. Damn, she's sexy.

"I don't know anyone, who can do, what I saw you do, yesterday," she whispered... Her happy eyes penetrating my soul.

"I don't know how to respond to that," I groaned, as I side stepped Robin, to go to the bathroom. She intentionally brushed against me... to annoy me... playfully... I'm sure.

I side eyed her before entering the bathroom... "I'm gonna be in here a while. I'll meet you in the kitchen."

I knew Helen would be gone to work when I entered the kitchen. I glanced at the kitchen clock... 11:23 am. Robin hopped off the bar stool, took three steps toward me, threw her arms around my neck, and kissed me. A soft, gentle exchange of our kiss. My arms around Robin, I pressed her firmly into my chest. Pressing her titties into my chest. Our kiss, still welcoming... gentle. Then, Robin pushed on me. Forcing my back against the wall. Her kiss... a little more aggressive, than a moment ago. Then, she broke our kiss. Still in each other's arms, her nose just inches from mine... her sexy dark brown eyes drilling into mine...

"I really want you, David."

"I want you, too, Robin."

Robin looked at me a little too long. An awkward long.

"What I mean, is... I want you. Just me and you."

"Helen might have a say in that." I arched an eyebrow to my new lover.

"I'll share you with Helen, but, I think Helen is really not into you."

"I suspect as much."... Considering, Helen wanted to explore her sexuality.

"So, if Helen were to move on, you and me could be together?"

I pulled her in closer... "I barely know you. But, I could see myself being with you." Then, I cracked a sly grin... "I'll need to run a background check on you, first."

I got her to laugh.

"Seriously, Robin. I can see us together, but I need the time. I'm willing to put in the time, and effort, and you can find out if my OCD is tolerable... or not. Baseball is my whole life. I can't breathe without thinking of baseball."

"OK. You don't have a problem with having a black girlfriend?"

"Black is sexy," I slurred. "I've seen enough of you at work to know you're a smart and confident woman. I admire that... A lot. Professional with your staff, and with the players and coaches. Besides, all the single players openly lust over you. Some of the married ones, too. I figure, that's a good thing, you and me together."

"I've never had a white boyfriend. I know, you and me in public, we'll have some... intolerances."

"I've already seen it," I whispered. I kissed her. Briefly. "I have a black brother in law."

I really took Robin by surprise on that one. I nodded and arched an eyebrow. A happy grin.

"Yeah. My older sister. They're both bankers and they met at work. He left the bank for another bank so they could date. He's a faithful husband and father. Three nieces and two nephews. And, they're crazy for me. They like me better than Donald."

I got her to laugh, again, then... "You really have a black brother in law?"

I answered her by crossing the kitchen, picking up my phone, opening the photos app, and showing her a portrait of my sister's family.

"Wow," she whispered. "Your sister and brother in law are... beautiful. The children, too."

"Of course they are," I offered, as I opened the refrigerator. "They take after me." I heard Robin giggle behind me.

Not finding anything I really wanted in the refrigerator, I turned to Robin... "Hey. Wanna go to lunch? I'm buying?"

"I can't," she replied, as she set my phone on the kitchen table. She moved toward me... "I have a video conference with the league medical director." As she stepped close, she looked down and took my hand. Squeezing my hand gently. Looking up into my eyes. Damn, she's good lookin'.

"I really like you," she whispered. "But, I'm... a little apprehensive, too. You being white, and all. I've never dealt with a mixed race couple situation in public. I don't know how I'll react, if someone... you know... doesn't like us being together. I fear I'll lash out. In a bad way."

"Why me, then, Robin? You could have the pick of the stable, when it comes to men. Everything about you is desirable. There's seven black, and single, players on the team. There's black staff in the front office. Fuck. You tell me," I emphasized, my last three words. "Why not them? Everything about me is not so good. My OCD, and my unstable career."

"Because," she slurred, as she took me into her arms. I offered my embrace, in return. Our eyes searching each other's emotions. "You... and your brother, are the sexist men in baseball. Super model sexy. That's why Donald is making so much money in sponsorships." She paused, put her head, and cheek, on my chest, and squeezed me gently. I returned the embrace. With her head still on my chest... "I like Donald, but he's too cocky for me. But you... you're quiet and confident. Leader by example. Humble, yet confident. Respectful of your peers, coaches, and women. I like that."

"OK, but I'm thinking you're gonna want me for about 10 seconds, after you get to know me, and my disgusting man habits. You've only lived here for a day. By next week, you're gonna be telling me to quit stinking up the bathroom in the morning."

"Fuck no," she replied, with another firm squeeze of her arms. "You keep giving me insane orgasms, like you did last night, you'll have a hard time getting rid of me."

"You 'are' a fantastic lover," I whispered. "We were good last night, weren't we?" Her whispered, and slurred, reply... with slitted eyes...

"You have no idea how good."

*****

As usual, I was spraying balls everywhere during batting practice.

Working on my ability to hit the ball where I want it to go. A key skill, when runners are on base, and the situation at hand.

And... I found myself glancing toward Robin, on occasion. Like, right now, as I left the batting cage. Robin, talking on her phone and looking toward the bull pen.

"Why are you looking at her?" my brother asked, as he prepared for his turn in the cage. "You've been doing it all afternoon. Are you fuckin' her?"

"Yeah. McKuen is changing the fraternization policy. And, she moved in with me and Helen. And, Helen is coming back to the Royals in a couple of weeks. McKuen hired her back."

"Robin moved in yesterday? You screwed her after dinner last night? Already?"

"I did. But, that's between us, Donald. Got it?"

"You lucky prick," my brother replied, with a faux tone of disgust, as he turned for the batting cage.

I then took a quick glance for Robin. Walking away from me toward the bull pen... long strides. Determined strides. Something must be up, but... Damn sexy figure and sexy ass. I grabbed my glove and then headed to the outfield to shag balls.

After about a minute or two, two assistant trainers were jogging to the bull pen with bags in hands, and backpacks.

Fuck. What the hell?

Then, Clint Stevens emerged from the dugout... walking to the bull pen.

Fuck!

Everyone noticed.

Still shagging balls from Donald, but... everyone was looking toward the bullpen between hits. For a good 20 minutes, or more. Then...

Assistant trainers, March and Frogmire, emerged through the bullpen gate... carrying their gear. Then, Stevens. Then...

Crap!

Daniel Ochoa. His right arm in a sling and Robin escorting him.

God Damnit! Our best closing reliever!

I sprinted from left field and others followed. As I slowed and approached...

"What the hell happened?" I asked Daniel. Concern in my tone.

"I blew out my arm," Ochoa calmly replied. "I'm sure I'm out for the season. Next year, too."

I looked to Robin. Her nod confirmed it. Her words...

"It's a UCL tear. The team doctor is on his way to confirm it." She gave me a wink. And a subdued smile.

I looked to Daniel as we walked toward the dugout and the locker room...

"What can I do? Anything."

Ochoa stopped and looked me straight in the eyes...

"Win the World Series. I still want that ring."

"OK," I offered. "Anything in the mean time?"

"Yeah. Bring me a six pack after the surgery. We'll talk about anything, except the surgery."

"I will. Count on it." I felt my heart grow heavy with disappointment. Who could replace the best closing reliever in baseball?

Right then, Clint Stevens...

"BRANTLEY! GET YOUR ASS BACK OUT THERE AND GET TO WORK! KEEP IT GOING!" He pointed to the rest of us... "ALL OF YA!"

I waved a half-hearted hand to let him know I heard him. Then, I noticed everyone around us. Others gave Ochoa encouragement as he and Robin made for the locker room. I stood there in shallow right field and watched Stevens, Robin, and Daniel enter the dugout and then disappear into the locker room. I turned to the bull pen... four pitchers were watching from just outside the bullpen gate. Concern on their faces. Donald was sprinting back from the bullpen. When he arrived...

"Everyone heard it pop. Barker said it sounded like a gun shot."

"Damn," I mumbled. I shook my head... subdued. "Stevens just kicked my ass, telling us to get back to work."

"Let's go then," my upbeat brother replied. "Bet you a steak, Stevens is on the phone right now, getting someone to replace Ochoa. Likely Omaha. I hear there's a kid that's ready." He turned, began sprinting to center field and... "Let's go!" he yelled to our teammates. "Stevens is going to fine our ass if we don't finish!"

As I ran for left field... I thought...

I'd heard about a great talent in Omaha. The Royals' AAA team.

Claude Zinser. LSU closing pitching ace. Two years ago, he shut down the Number 1, Texas Longhorns, in closing relief, in the college world series finals... games 1 and 2. Allowing the LSU Tigers to sweep the Longhorns in the finals. LSU coming from behind in game 2 to win it all. Zinser kept the Longhorns off the bases to contribute to the wins.

At 23 years old, with the Omaha Royals... an insanely low, 0.24 ERA. 14 saves last year. I sure hope those stats translate to the majors, and Kansas City.

Later that day...

An hour before game time with the Rockies, Zinser showed up in the locker room. That was fast... Omaha is just a ways up the road from Kansas City. Many of the pitchers greeted him with welcome handshakes. But, I saw him glance at me and Donald. Several times. When the group of pitchers began to break up, I made for Zinser to welcome him. And... he met me, and Donald, in the middle of the locker room.

"I've heard great things about you, Zinser. Ready to take over from Ochoa?"

"I am David Brantley," Claude replied. A huge smile, and happy, bright blue eyes. "I can't believe I'm on the same team as the Brantley brothers." He smiled to me, and to Donald. Donald slapped him on the back, and shook his hand.

"Let us know what you need. We've got a winning team here. A good chance for the playoffs. And Ochoa was a big part of that. All of us..." Donald paused... to gesture to our teammates. "... need you. Don't change a thing you've done in Omaha. Be yourself."

"I will," the young pitcher replied. He smiled wide. I couldn't help thinking how he felt right now.

He made it.

To the majors.

As Claude Zinser began taking off his clothes at his locker, Robin pranced in, smiled and winked at me, and headed straight for Zinser... Bare chested by now. A notebook computer in her hand, she shook hands with Zinser and appeared to be asking questions... all with her sexy smile. The two sat down together, and Robin began typing into her computer, as Zinser answered her questions. The exchange didn't last long. The two stood, shook hands again, and I heard Robin...

"Welcome to the Royals, Zinser. You're gonna love it here."

That night, we had a three run lead on the Rockies going into the top of the 8th inning. Zinser began the inning, relieving our starter, Zane Cox. I tossed the ball to Zinser after receiving the "around the horn" from Donald.

"You got this, right?" I offered, before returning to my third base position.

"Just watch," the cocky right handed LSU Tiger grinned.

I smiled, and slapped his ass with my glove.

The first pitch... "STRIKE!" the umpire roared. The batter swung at the pitch... missing it, badly. I looked to the pitch speed display in right field...

"God damn," I mumbled. I blinked. Twice.

101 MPH.

The second pitch... "STRIKE, two!" Again, a swing and miss... 97 MPH.

The third pitch... "STRIKE THREE... OUT!"

I shook my head... Claude got him on a 77 MPH changeup. After receiving the ball from Donald on the around the horn... I trotted over to Zinser... tossing him the ball.

"Great start," I offered. "Can I expect two more on the next batters?"

"Just watch," he growled, with a smile.

The second batter grounded out to the first baseman. The third batter...

A first pitch foul ball... so high in the air, I thought it would touch the outer atmosphere... behind me and deep... fading toward the seats.

I was running. Eyes on the tiny white dot in the sky. Pearson, from left field was racing in, too. So was Larsen at shortstop. It was gonna be mine though... no way either Pearson and Larsen could get to it.

I glanced at the seats to judge my distance. Snapped my eyes back into the air for the ball. The wind seemed to be pushing it toward the seats. Damn. Another quick glance to the seats. This one... was gonna be close.

I stopped at the front rail of the seats. DAMN! A second later, I reached as far as I could over the railing... My glove on the edges of my hand to get that last needed millimeter... laying my body out as parallel with the ground as possible... And...

I needed just one more inch. I wiggled my left shoulder forward at the perfect time... I was so stretched out, like a rubber band, I didn't see the ball enter my glove. But... I felt... and heard... the impact of ball and leather. I squeezed my left hand so hard, I thought I would pop the baseball like a pimple. I lifted my glove in the air so any umpire could see I caught the ball.

"OUT!" I heard from the third base umpire.

The crowd around me roared. My feet were off the ground. I was lying on top of two people. I couldn't right myself. Fans were slapping me on the back, and ass. Screaming my name. The next thing I remember, Donald was in the stands, helping me. To get untangled from fans and seats.

"You fucker," he roared, with sarcasm. "You had to show off, didn't you?"

"Just get me the hell to my feet!" I roared. I felt like a beached whale. Unable to return to the water.

It seemed like an eternity, but only a few seconds. I finally got to my feet, with the help of Donald, and a young man. Just a seat away from the steps between sections, I stood upright and the crown roared louder. I looked toward the field... I was three rows into the seats.

I apologized to everyone nearby and promised I would return after the game with baseballs to sign. As I made to jump the rail back to the field, I see a young little girl next to her super-hot, blonde mother, in the first row. I leaned over, gave the foul ball I caught to the little girl, and caught a fantastic glimpse of mom's tits. I love a woman who is proud of her tits and isn't afraid to show me some cleavage.

I received a fantastic, "thank you," from the mom, a huge smile, and the crowd roared ever louder. I hopped the rail back to the field and Donald fell in beside me as we ran for the first base dugout. I was met in front of the dugout by Zinser... smiling widely as I approached...

"That was the best catch I've ever seen," he roared, over the crowd. "Fuckin' amazing!"

"Thanks."

As I entered the dugout, Stevens barked at me... "Great catch! You've got a cut on your chin, and blood on you shirt! Get it taken care of!"

Blood? Cut? I don't remember. I cut myself?

Right then, Donald was looking at my face, then Frogmire... The assistant trainer. Then, Robin. Again, smiling that sexy smile, but allowing Frogmire to fix me up. She was eyeing the cut, too.

"No stitches. Not deep enough," Frogmire reported. He turned to Robin, and she nodded her agreement. She looked at me... smiled... winked... and turned her back for the corner of the dugout. To continue watching the game. The equipment manager ordered me out of my shirt... so he could disinfect, and remove the blood stains with hydrogen peroxide.

In a matter of two minutes, I had a band aid on my chin... and my shirt was cleaned of blood, and back on my shoulders. Ready for play.

Watching from the dugout, we added no additional runs to the score in the bottom of the eighth. And, Zinser didn't allow anyone to reach base in the top of the ninth, for the save, and the team win. A ground out to Donald. A fly out to right field. And a fly out to center field.

In the top of the ninth, Zinser threw six pitches that exceeded 100 MPH. His pitching style reminds me of the great Texan, Nolan Ryan.

*****

Weeks went by in June and July.

We got our groove back. Winning 24 games and losing 6, before the All Star break in July. Also during those weeks...

I was screwing both Helen and Robin at least once a week. Helen, when I was in Kansas City, and Robin... both at home, and on the road.

I briefly worried about Robin. Her passion in the bedroom becoming intense. On occasion, to the point of demanding I fuck her... Without delay. One time...

On a road trip, against the Angels, she pushed me into a mechanical closet, (when no one was around), just past the corner from the visitors' locker room. I fucked her on a workman's bench inside the closet. Robin sitting on the bench, and me screwing her with her legs in my hands, while I stood on the floor. Robin had a towel in her mouth to mute her cries of passion. She insisted that I cum on her tummy, instead of her pussy, so she wouldn't leak my cum during the game. It was sexy to watch her swipe my cum from her tummy, and lick, and swallow, the proceeds.

She came hard, three times that day. Telling me, in between her orgasms...

"To fuck it." I think she meant her pussy. And I did fuck it with my dick. And, "It feels so good." And, "I can't believe how wonderful this is." And, "I love your dick." And, "You're so thick." And, "You're so hot." It sounded pretty weird, too, coming from a mouth full of hand towel.

I told her later, at the hotel, that we can't do that shit anymore. If caught, I'm sure the two of us would get fired. She agreed, and kissed me hard. Pushing me against the wall of the hotel lobby. Late at night after the game, no one saw us.