Umpire and Player

Author's note: a little more story than sex, heads up.

Thursday evening, Hal stood near the centre field wall, in the bottom of the second. Even from there he heard the crack of the bat as it met the ball. He watched it soar up, arching into the sky. With his eyes locked onto the ball, he began to move, first forward then back, one hand reaching behind to feel for the outfield wall. And then at the last minute he jumped, his arm stretched out, glove open. He felt the ball settle into the pocket, and he slammed the glove closed around it. However, just as he did that, he hit the wall, hitting it in the wedge between panels of padding, his shoulder slammed into a metal support pole.

He bounced forward and slammed down onto the outfield track, he rolled and ended up seated, legs splayed but he held his glove hand up to show that he still held the ball. The crowd roared. He sat for a moment, as the left and right fielders closed in on him. He opened the glove and let the ball drop, caught it with his other hand and tossed it to Jackson, the right fielder, as he trotted up. Then he tried to lower his left arm, the arm with the glove, and his shoulder screamed. He winced as the arm came down but got to his feet and tried to shake it off. The crowd cheered again when he stood up, sure that their hero was okay now.

The game progressed and the pain grew with each inning, by the seventh he was pulled and was sent in to see the trainer, who did some stretching and massage therapy, but the pain persisted. The trainer determined an Xray was called for and he was sent off for those. The Xray indicated that there was a rotator cuff tear in his shoulder. In most cases the cure would be time and rest to resolve that kind of injury, so they put Hal on a day-to-day schedule. The team had him sit out for a few days, which amounted to the rest of the weekend. The following Monday would start the All Star break, so he'd get a total of six days of rest.

Hal was restless without his workouts and playing, he called Carl but Carl hadn't been responding to him since the beginning of the season when he'd broken things off with Hal. Hal hadn't seen him since, as Carl hadn't worked on any of his games. Hal was frustrated and he was taking that out on his relationship with his fiancé. And as the wedding planning progressed, they argued more and more. Hal knew that the wedding wasn't anything he wanted. He wanted Carl and wished he could have made it work. When the team sat him down just before the All Star break, it all came to a boil: the pressure, the pain, that he was feeling useless and scared, and he took his frustration out on her by unfairly, picking fights and finally storming out.

In San Diego, Carl was calling a four game weekend series that left him plenty of time to hit Blacks Beach for some nude beach time or to relax in the southern California sun by his hotel pool. This afternoon he was by the pool when his phone beeped, it was Hal, again. He'd been calling and texting since Thursday. Well, he'd been calling and texting since spring but not as often as he has been in the last few days. But after their spring training fling, Carl decided that he didn't want to play second fiddle to the fiancé. They talked and agreed that they shouldn't pursue a relationship.

After that series had ended and they'd each gone in different directions, he let Hal know that he was good, glad they'd had their fling but he ended things between them before it got too complicated. Since then, Hal had continued to call and text, but Carl had ignored them all, deleting voice mails without listening to them.

He finished the book he was reading and set it down on the table beside him and picked up his phone. There were half a dozen messages from Hal, just this afternoon. It was Saturday, heading into the All Star game and Carl was looking forward to a few days off, as he hadn't been assigned to the game. He'd booked a flight to Puerto Vallarta, leaving right after the game on Sunday afternoon. He would be staying near the Zona Romantica and planned to enjoy the atmosphere, the gay beach and the clubs. No one recognized Umpires, so he wasn't worried about being "caught" and he'd been before without incident.

As he sat looking at this phone, he glanced at the messages from Hal, he normally deleted them without reading them, but something made him read these ones.

"Carl, I need to talk with you."

"Carl, I'm injured, they have me sitting out games."

"Carl, call me, I really need to talk with you."

The message about his injury caught Carl's eye and he brought up his news feed to see if he could find out what had happened. Despite trying to keep his distance from Hal, he still found that he cared for him, and if things were different, he could see a future with him but sadly they weren't. They worked so well together. Still to lean into a clandestine relationship with a closeted married ball player was just something he couldn't do. Or more correctly, didn't want to do.

The news indicated a shoulder injury, and that Hal was day-to-day, so nothing serious he thought to himself. Still, he wondered if he should call. Just a quick call to check on Hal, he told himself. Or maybe he should wait for Hal's next call, that might be smarter, he told himself. He didn't have to wait long.

About 30 minutes later, Hal called again, this time Carl answered.

"How are you," he asked right out of the gate.

"I'm kind of lost, honestly," Hal replied, jumping right into the matter at hand.

"Lost how?" Carl replied.

"The press hasn't been told, but the injury is worse than they know. The recommendation is surgery, which will end my season. They tell me that in most cases, these type of injuries, just need time but the severity of the hit I took, well, it did major damage and they're recommending that I have the surgery."

"You don't want to have the surgery?"

"I don't want to lose the whole season and if I shut it down, if I have the surgery that's my season done."

"And what if you don't have the surgery?" Carl asked.

"They tell it could get worse, or it could even improve, though they don't believe that."

"Look I think you should have the surgery; your long-term career is more important than a single season. Get it fixed and fixed right."

"It's not that simple. I can't just walk away," Hal replied. "Look it's the break, can I see you? Do you have plans? I really want to see you, to talk to you about this and help me to make the right decision."

"I'm sorry, I do have plans," Carl answered but didn't elaborate. "Plus, I don't think it's a good idea to see each other, we both know how that will end up and it was hard enough to walk away last spring."

"I miss you, Carl," Hal persisted, "Can't we meet, please? I need to see you; I need someone in my corner right now."

"Well, if by in your corner, you mean someone to support you if you decide to forego the surgery then that's not me, I think you need to have it," Carl stated.

"I don't want the surgery, I don't need the surgery," Hal insisted.

"I know that I won't convince you but I, also, won't support your decision not to," Carl sniped.

They continued back and forth for a few more minutes before Hal angrily disconnected.

Carl sat for a bit by the pool, lost in his thoughts. He looked at his phone, sighed and headed up to change for dinner.

Sunday's game wrapped up, Carl had his equipment shipped with the rest of his team to the next city, where he'd pick it up post All Star game. He packed his clothes and hoped on his plane to Puerto Vallarta.

His hotel was on the beach and his balcony overlooked the Pacific, the moon glistened off the water, as the sun had set by the time he arrived. He opened the doors to the balcony to let the sea breeze in, stripped and then unpacked for his three-night stay. It was still early, and he was horny as hell, he pulled up his hookup app but didn't find anyone appealing at first glance. He decided to hit the bars and see what good trouble he could find, but after a few drinks, he wasn't haven't any luck there and decided on a spa instead.

He walked to the one he'd been to before and paid his admission, got his room, stripped and began to wander around. It didn't take long to find offers. In the dry sauna a man began to fondle him and offered to blow him. Carl told him to go ahead but then someone else came in and his guy bolted. Carl was kind of surprised by that but shook it off. The new guy didn't seem interest and Carl left to rinse off in the showers, then he hit the movie room to enjoy some porn. He watched the screen which was showing a threesome with a top working two bottoms, swapping between the two, fucking each in turn. Carl had felt someone occupy the seat next to him but other than a quick glance, he didn't pay attention. That is, until a hand then a mouth was wrapped around his hard cock. He leaned back then and enjoyed the throat enveloping his cock. This guy had a very talented mouth and Carl let him work his magic.

He'd been horny going in, and this guy was very talented, Carl began to feel his load rise, the feeling build until that moment of hesitation just before his cock pulsed out his load. He hung there, suspended in time and space as the hungry mouth worked his cock. The moment lingered and then he came, filling the guy's mouth to overflowing.

He looked down then and he recognized the face attached to the mouth around his cock, a porn actor, he'd seen a few of the guy's movies; the guy was famous for his blowjobs and now Carl understood why. The guy, his name was John Carl recalled, licked every drop that Carl's cock offered and kept sucking after, causing Carl to shiver with the sensitivity.

"That was fucking amazing," Carl said as he caught his breath, "I've watched you or your films, John, for a few years and always thought you had amazing talent and now I see firsthand how talented you really are." Carl used the man's name or least his stage name, as that was what he knew.

"You've got a great cock, bud," John replied, "I loved blowing it."

"Carl," Carl offered his name, "and I'm honoured, I'd love a repeat performance, if you're up for it."

"I'm always up for it," John answered. "Want to get out of here?"

"Let's go to my hotel. It's not far," Carl suggested.

"I'll meet you at the door in 10 minutes," John suggested, and they both headed back to their rooms to dress.

They walked out of the Spa into the hot tropical night, to a blinding flash as a camera went off, then again and again, almost right in their faces. Followed by the sound of running feet as the photographer took off.

"Don't mind that," John suggested, "Happens to me all the time. Just a fan grabbing a photo." Carl was a little bothered by that, the idea of that photo out there.

They walked back to his hotel, and he led John up to his room, photographer forgotten. He'd left the balcony doors open when he went out. The room was cool and smelled of the ocean and a lovely breeze was blowing in off the water. They stripped as soon they entered the room, and both wandered out to the balcony. They stood by the balcony rail for a few minutes, arms wrapped around each other's waist. John leaned in and kissed Carl, then pushed Carl back and down into a chair. He knelt between Carl's legs and began to work on Carl's hardening cock. John knew his business and Carl was hard and buried in John's throat in moments.

He leaned back in the chair, tilted his head back and simply relaxed into John's mouth, arms resting on the chair's arms as he just enjoyed the feeling. Then the feeling went away. He opened his eyes and looked up in time to see that John had stood up, turned around and was lowering his ass down onto Carl's thick cock. As soon as the ass closed over him, Carl sighed out. John for his part, groaned and pushed further down until his ass and hips were resting on Carl's thighs. Both men were very verbal as John continued to ride Carl.

Carl pushed him off his cock, though and stood them both up, he pushed John forward, so that John leaned on the balcony railing as Carl took a position behind him and pushed his cock back into John's ass. He pounded hard, since John was already open and ready. The concrete wall of the balcony provided excellent support and John took everything that Carl had to offer. John's ass was tight, Carl didn't know what he expected from a porn actor, but the tightness was a pleasant surprise. He drove deep into John's ass. The moans echoed out into the night.

"I'm gonna cum." Carl stated.

"On my face," John begged.

Carl pulled out, spun John around and pushed him to his knees. Just in time, as his cock shot rope after rope of cum onto John's salt and pepper beard. John who had been furiously beating his own cock while Carl fucked him, shot a huge load onto Carl's legs and feet, then bent down and licked Carl clean.

Carl pulled him to his feet, kissed him, tasting cum on John's lips and tongue. They sat for a time on the balcony to enjoy the cool evening air, then retired to bed, where John sucked another load out of Carl. The morning light woke them; as the room was facing west, they didn't get direct morning sun but it was still bright enough at 7 a.m. Carl sat up in bed and looked down at John, still laying back, morning wood standing proud. He leaned down and took the hard cock, he'd seen so many times online, into his mouth. John moaned at his touch but stayed still, letting Carl explore his cock.

Carl's own morning wood was demanding attention and lifted John's legs, climbed between his spread thighs and pushed his cock into John's ass. John took him easily and they enjoyed a leisurely fuck session, neither rushing just a good steady pounding. John was now stroking his cock in time to Carl's thrusts. They both were getting close.

Both of their phones chimed, almost simultaneously but they ignored them, as they were both close to finishing. Then they chimed again, and again.

"Cum for me," John pleaded, and Carl quickened his pace, driving hard into John and let his balls empty into John's ass. As his cock pulsed cum into John, John's fist did its job, and his cock erupted across his belly.

They collapsed down onto each other, as Carl's phone rang, then rang again when he didn't answer and again. Finally, he rolled over and grabbed his phone. He saw about a half dozen messages, one from his sister, a couple from Hal and other friends, including one of his coworkers, a fellow umpire. He didn't read them at first but checked the missed calls. It was the league office. Multiple calls from them.

"What the fuck," he said to himself, then pulled up the messages before he checked the voicemails.

"Holy shit," John said behind him, causing him to turn. "That wasn't just some fan taking the pic last night and they took more than that."

"What do you mean," Carl asked.

John turned his phone and there was a video playing of John leaning over the balcony, lit from behind with Carl, driving into him.

"How the fuck did they get that?" Carl asked him.

"I'm guessing it must have been a drone," John answered.

"Holy shit, no," Carl was feeling a sense of panic settle in.

He scrolled the messages left on his phone.

The first one was from his sister: "what have you done," was all it said.

The second and third from Hal: "OMG what have you done" was the first and the second "Are you all right, Carl? Call me."

Two from his friends: "Carl, we didn't know, we support you," said one and "Carl, you dog," said an old ex with whom he was still friends.

The last text was from a fellow umpire, "I saw the video, I'll pray for you," it said, simply.

Carl nearly dropped his phone.

He checked his mail, there were the pics from outside the club and a copy of balcony video.

Then he checked his voicemail.

The commissioner was the first message: "Carl, this is a very tough call for us to make..." It then cut off.

The second was the commissioner again: "Look I don't want to do this over the phone, get your ass to New York for a meeting."

The third from the head of the umpire's union: "The league will want to fire you, the union will stand behind you, as much as we can."

He dropped his phone then.

"I'm so, so sorry," John offered, though none of it was his fault.

Carl flew that afternoon to New York and was summarily fired for breaching his morality cause - baseball is a family game, they said, and this type of behaviour does not embody good family values." The union vowed to fight it but as of that day he was out of professional baseball.

Hal took the news hard when he heard it, first the video had left him feeling a bit jealous, though he had no reason to be, as they weren't a couple, but it still him hard. Then he felt bad for Carl and tried calling and texting, but Carl was awol. As the All Star break ended, he returned to the team and advised them that he would play through. They accepted that but management continued to pressure him to schedule the surgery.

He played through until mid-August before the shoulder finally gave out and the injury became so bad that it forced the issue. He was placed on the 60-day injured list, though everyone knew he was done for the season. The following week the surgery was scheduled. It went well. He'd need a few weeks to heal, he'd spend that with the team where he acted as cheerleader and coach for the younger players. After a few weeks, he'd start his physio. He went home to southern California where he'd overwinter and attend physio with the hopes of returning the following spring. His fiancé packed up the condo and made ready to shift their lives back to California. She was the one that recommended postponing the wedding, so he could focus on recovery, he was all too happy to agree with that. He arrived home in late September and immediately reached out to the physio technician that the team had arranged for him. They'd split their time between the tech's office and his own home where he had a full gym set up. The first few visits were at the clinic, he arrived at 10 a.m. on the first day, he'd used a service to drive him there rather than try to drive himself - he could manage but it bothered him after a while.

The man who came out to meet him was tall, at least six inches taller than Hal, he had a shock of blonde hair, long in the front, short in the back, he wore a sleeveless tee, which showed off firm biceps. And the kicker for Hal, the man had crystal clear blue eyes, the kind of eyes you could get lost in for a long, long time. And he nearly did.

He caught himself staring, he hoped before the tech noticed, and extended his good hand to shake. Introductions were made and Josh led him back into a treatment room and began to examine and test Hal for range of motion, pain levels, setting a baseline for their work going forward. The first two weeks they worked out of the clinic but then moved treatments to Hal's home where he felt more comfortable, using his own equipment and being out of the public eye.

Josh was patient and helpful and so damn good looking that Hal would often leave the session with a hard on and though he always wore baggy sweats, he was still thanking the fates that he was smallish, so it was less noticeable. He began to fantasize about Josh, about his touch, sensual and firm, guiding him through exercises that in his fantasies always led to sex. He imagined it several times, Josh massaging and working his muscles, his hand straying across Hal's chest, tweaking a nipple then moving down across Hal's torso, feeling the contours of his muscles. Josh, using his hand to guide Hal's own hand to his crotch, where Hal would be able to feel the hardness of Josh's cock. It feels huge to his hand, just like the man it's attached to. He imagines pulling down Josh's track pants and watching the hard cock pop out (in his fantasy, Josh is always commando in his trackies). He takes the long hard cock into his mouth and as Josh strips him of the rest of his clothes. He can see Josh then move between his legs where he slides that big cock into his ass. It's usually right about then that he cums. He would lay there drenched in his own load, as he imagined Josh filling his ass with cum. Some days, he'd need to go twice.