When we weren't in the swimming pool during the summer months, we were usually down at the community recreational center. It was pretty nice. Outside it had a lot of trees that we could loll under out of the heat and some assorted picnic tables. There were some swings, a sliding board, the obligatory basketball court, and, surprisingly, a well cared for baseball field. Of course, it wasn't regulation; it was a compromise between a softball field and a regular baseball field, but it suited the needs of the neighborhood very well.
Inside the most inviting characteristic was the ice cold air conditioning. There was also a large color TV connected to cable, books and magazines, a computer, old comfortable furniture, CDs and a CD player, and the necessary Foosball table. Sometimes my friends would go outside and smoke a blunt, but I didn't usually partake. I didn't like the effects; it'd make me paranoid and horny. There's a helluva combination for you. I wanted to have sex, but I couldn't trust anybody!
The rec center director was named Charles. He was real young, he had just graduated from college and he was waiting to receive his first teaching position. If I were to describe him, it would be easiest to just call him a tall bronze god (little g). He stood over six feet, his muscles had muscles, and he was so good looking he had grown women hanging off him, whenever I would see him outside of the recreational facility.
The only problem was he had a sharp tongue in his head and he could be such a smart ass when he wanted to be. I mean, we knew it was all in fun, but it would get old after awhile – you know? One day he was going on and on about how we never got any real exercise and how out of shape we all were. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore and I jumped up and stood in front of him.
"Here," I exclaimed, pushing my body up in his face. "Does this look like I'm out of shape?"
Charles laughed that deep hearty laugh of his. "Miss Sara," he replied. Charles always called me Miss Sara. "I wasn't talking about that kind of shape. I bet you all couldn't even play a baseball game to the completion without having to drop out."
Well, like I said before – sometimes I let my mouth overload my ass, so I go, "You're on. We'll play you all in baseball. Now what's the bet?"
Charles laughed again, as my friends were falling out all over the place behind me saying, "No way!" and "Stop it, Sara!
If you win, I'll take you all out to eat dinner," the young black man explained. "And if we win, you all take my team out to dinner."
"Alright," I declared. "It's a deal." My friends were all moaning and groaning.
The rec director responded, "We'll play in one week's time. You all can use our equipment in the game and to practice with whenever you want." I thanked him and the deal was set. ……….
Well, needless to say my friends were not happy. I think my best friend at the time, Kristine, a real cute little brunette, summed it up best when she said, "Sara, you've really lost your mind this time. The other team is all boys. They're gonna kill us."
I had to admit her assessment was correct based on our practices. Some of the team acted as if they had never seen a baseball, glove, or bat before. And they all threw – gasp – like girls! Haha! We had two guys and they were our pitcher and catcher, so at least we didn't have to worry about that. After our last practice, the team was clustered around me demanding that I apologize to Charles and call the game off.
"No way!" I answered. "Don't worry, I have some secret weapons in mind. And all you girls remember to wear your most revealing mid-riff and the shortest shorts you own."
The day of the game finally arrived and when the team arrived I noticed they had complied with my directions. They all looked very hot! And when they ran, their mid-riffs would fly up revealing their bras. I knew it wouldn't do any good to try to convince any of them not to wear their bras, but at least some of them had chosen really sexy looking ones and nobody was wearing those icky looking sport bras. Man, some of their shorts looked painted on they were so tight and I'm not sure if they were all wearing panties or not, because I just don't see where some of them had any room under their shorts.
The team received it's first surprise when it arrived and discovered Catherine was going to play with us. That's right, Catherine – Mr. Boyd's girlfriend. It turned out she was a gym teacher too and when I explained it to her, she decided she wanted a piece of the action too.
Since it was summer and she had declined to teach summer school, she had a job as a sales clerk at a posh downtown department store in the women's section. The statuesque brunette had arrived directly from work on her lunch hour and had to return to work right after the game, so she was wearing that same short dress she had been wearing the last time I saw her.
She looked awesome. When ever she bent down, her dress was so low cut, you could see all the way down to her beautiful nipples! And she wasn't wearing a bra. I quickly recognized that she had obeyed my suggestions.
Of course I was dressed in my bikini. There was no rule against that, even though when Charles saw it he attempted to claim it was against the rules. I think he had already began to get a glimmer of my plan. This was going to be a cake walk!
The game started and we even had an umpire. One of Charles' staff had volunteered and I really think she didn't appreciate his sense of humor too much, because it seemed as if most of the close calls went our way.
We flipped a coin to see who got to be home team and I swear the ump flipped it between her fingers after catching it. But whatever, we won the toss and picked home team, so we would have last at bats.
Charles tried to act as if I had made some hideous mistake in his rather feeble attempt to convince me to change our decision. I stuck out my tongue out at him and declared, "I know a little more about the game then you think, Chas." I knew he hates being called Chas.
Our pitcher's name was Bobby Foster and he was a strapping six feet, three and he pitched for his college freshman team. His catcher was his brother Jackie, who had played on the varsity at our high school school. Needless to say, Bobby struck out the side in the first inning. We came in to bat. Charles was pitching for their side and he was pretty good. I did mention he was athletic, didn't I?
Our first two batters, of course, struck out, but they looked damn hot doing it with their little shirts blowing up above their bras, when they took a swing. I could tell from the look on the boys' faces on the other team that we were already getting to them.
The third batter up was Catherine and I suppose Charles thought if he was nice to her maybe she would go out with him later or something. Of course he didn't realize she was a physical education teacher – not in that getup she was wearing. So he threw her a soft pitch and she swung and whistled it right by his left ear and into center field. You should have seen the expression on his face! I laughed out loud and he glared over at me.
Catherine took a lead off first base and at the earliest opportunity Charles threw over there; supposing I guess to catch her unaware for the third out, so his little ego could be assuaged.
Now Catherine had been in the correct baserunner's stance perfectly balanced with her feet spread apart and her knees bent, which had caused her already short dress to ride up way high on her thighs.
I couldn't see well from our dugout on the first base side, but I wouldn't be surprised if her thong was completely visible. I do know that she was bent at the waist in the appropriate manner, while resting her hands on her knees and I could see the firstbaseman was very engrossed in looking down her dress at her breasts that were now completely visible down to her nipples.
Unfortunately for him, Charles didn't notice the firstbaseman wasn't paying any attention until he threw over there and of course the throw went down the first baseline and into the rightfield corner. By the time the dust had settled, Catherine had scored. Mwahaha! Charles was so mad he walked our pitcher and catcher intentionally and then struck out the next girl in three straight swinging strikes. So we were ahead one to nothing.
Charles led off the top of the next inning, batting in the cleanup spot naturally and hit a mammoth homerun over the leftfield fence on the first pitch. It was nothing bad against our pitcher; Charles was a grown man and Bobby was only nineteen years old.
Even though another couple of guys got on base, we got out of the inning by only letting in the one run, when Kristine was kindhearted enough to strip down to her bra and panties at her position at shortstop with two on base and two out and when a three ball and two strike pitch was rocketing toward the plate. Naturally the batter completely froze, as he was staring at her and the third strike cut down the middle of the plate for strike three. Charles attempted to protest, but the ump wasn't buying a bit of it. Haha!
