Softball Adventure
Background:
My naivete about publishing ended up with stories posted out of order. It's not a major issue for me and I'm not complaining.
But for the reader, it was confusing. I apologize.
Here are the facts.
I am married. It's my second, and final marriage. I have a limited sexual history. I lost my virginity via rape. My next two lovers were men I married. The first was a shotgun wedding. I have one child.
I divorced my first husband to marry Percy.
My story, "Women Love Me and I Love Back", took place during my first marriage; a marriage in which my ex-husband cheated on me repeatedly. When I met Percy, I knew he was my future. We have been married longer, 16 years, than our first marriages, combined.
This story took place two years ago. It is another installment about my bicurious adventures.
XO-Helen
"WOOOOOOOOO! Way to go, Steve!!" I shouted and clapped. Steve crossed the plate and now we were down 9-1. We now had a two-run cushion to stave off Slaughter Rule. It was the middle of July and we had a record of 2-6. We were terrible but we formed a Co-Ed 16-inch softball team of friends, from different walks of life, to have fun, get drunk and blow off steam. It was a rec league that didn't take things seriously. But there were always teams with ringers and that was bullshit. To make things more amusing and complicated, half our team was drunk before our games. If we played at 5pm, Abby and Brenda were already posting on FB that they were already bar, Slammers, by the park, at 3pm. If the game was at 7pm, they were there at 5pm. They were always there two hours early and they'd harangue the others to arrive as soon as possible; many did and it showed on the field. Percy and I would arrive about 30 minutes prior to gametime. We'd get our drinks and head to the diamonds. Teams loved us because it was a guaranteed win and they were entertained by our antics. We ladies decided to order team shirts that were way too small and tight. We also wore small Lycra shorts and knee-high socks. It helped that Abby and Brenda spent half the time flirting with the other team. Many a boob was flashed, crotch grabbed and peace sign fingers up to mouth getting tongued. A sexy, terrible team. But at least sexy. Ok, trashy.
On this evening we ended up losing 11-1 and got Slaughter Ruled. The night was perfect though, so warm, with a slight breeze and the setting sun made for a blazing sunset of orange and pink. Something felt different. It was stress free. The mosquitoes weren't even biting. No one was bummed we lost and everyone was available to just sit and hangout in the beer garden. As we gathered around a couple of tables and took turn buying pitchers and shots, Abby's brother showed up with some friends. Ken would occasionally play, but more often than not, he was the post-game party ringleader. He always had interesting friends; drug dealers, state reps, models, artists and especially DJ's. Tonight, it was just him and a woman he introduced as one of his best friends, Emma. Emma was a couple inches taller than me, about 5'5", thin, very tan and brunette. She had a clever asymmetrical hair cut; buzz cut on the left side of her head, with a part and the rest of her head was long with the right-side length that covered the right side of her face and landed just past her shoulder. She was wearing a plain, white t-shirt that was cropped but not high, it was waist length. She wore faded boyfriend jeans. She was wearing nice, comfy looking hiking sandals. I noticed her feet were beautiful. Not dry, not cracked. They looked supple. Her hands were tattooed with several designs, mostly on her fingers. They were symbols of some sort. I later found out they were Indigenous symbols for wind, water, earth, directions and wheat. I don't recall what they meant. Her hands looked strong. Not man hands but they weren't dainty. Her fingers were long. Her hands didn't look soft, like her feet but her nails looked immaculate. She had a mani-pedi that looked expensive. It was a contrast to the rest of her look. She didn't seem all that friendly, more of a bored expression than a bitch face. But as soon as she was introduced by Ken, she lit up and had a 1000-watt smile. Her voice was low but she spoke clearly. "Hi guys! Ken has told me a ton about you. What are you all drinking? The next round is on me!!" That made her our team's new best friend.
Percy looked at his phone. "Shit. Wes is asking me to pick him up."
"What does that little shit want now?" asked Steve. Wes was Percy's son from his first marriage. His ex was, and continues to be, a total bitch. Percy made it a point to never miss a call/text/email from his boy. I admired him for that and resented him for it. It wasn't that I felt it took any time away from me. He's a dad, he has an innate responsibility for his kid. It's just that if he ever missed anything in supporting his child, his ex-wife made it look like Percy was a terrible father. The unending court filings, even after the divorce was final, cost him thousands. She was bankrolled by her mother, who wanted nothing more than to grind Percy to dust.
"He needs a ride," answered Percy "And I'm going to have to go."
A chorus of boos and hisses came from the team.
"Hey, he's your kid, there's no reason that Helen needs to go too," said Ken. A round of cheers and claps emanated from the table. "Besides, we like Helen better." Laughter ensued.
"Helen, I'll go take care of Wes. I think I'll shower too and then I can pick you up later." Percy was an angel. I did feel like staying but I felt it was better to be with him. "Stay. Its nice out and I won't be gone more than a couple hours."
"We'll take care of her, take your time. In two hours, the party is still getting started." said Christa. Christa was the, "mom", of the team. She knew all the gossip and she was Steve's mom. But if you saw her, you wouldn't believe it. She looked more like his sister; only because she had him when she was 15.
"Oh, I'm sure you will," said Percy "Helen, after I'm done with Wes, I'll shower and just text me when you're ready to get picked up. Its 8:30pm. I'll be ready any time after 10pm, probably. I'm not sure where Wes needs to go and I'm thinking he'll have buddies to pick up too."
"Are you sure?" I asked. Percy nodded. I wasn't so sure. I was torn. It was a nice night but I like being with my man. At the same time, I kind of wanted to stay. The night was so nice and the alcohol was in the beginning phases of making me feel good.
The table erupted in a chant of, "Stay Helen stay, stay Helen stay..." Percy waved his hands to stop the chanting.
"Oh my god, you guys, stop. Jeez, I'll stay, just stop!" I begged. Percy smiled. We kissed and hugged. Then he left.
As I joined the table, Emma arrived with a waitress and platters in tow, with another round of light beer pitchers and whiskey shots. I poured myself a beer.
"No shot for you?" asked Emma, as she sat next to me at the picnic style table.
"Oh, not for Ms. Helen," said Christa. "She only drinks tequila." Christa laughed heartily as if I was some sort of high maintenance real housewife. Then she got up, "I gotta pee".
"I'll get you a shot. What's your tequila?" asked Emma.
"Ummm...tequila?" I asked slowly. I didn't have a brand. Aren't they all the same? Do a few shots, get drunk, have fun, feel like shit in the morning. Didn't they all do that?
"Ok. Let me introduce you to Patron," and with that Emma got up and disappeared into the bar.
"Damn, girl. Your boy is gone and people already buying you drinks!" shouted Abby.
"Hey whore, she got everyone shots!" shouted back Brenda. Everyone laughed.
Emma came back with a platter carrying 4 shots. They were varying in color from clear to yellowish and gold. The gold one looked kind of like pee and then it made me realize I needed to go to the bathroom.
When I returned, the table was covered in appetizers, pitchers and all kinds of shots. Emma called me over and patted the bench area to her right. It put me at the end of the table by the patio fence. I climbed over the bench and straddled it, my right leg under the table, my left out. It allowed me to sit with my back to the fence and lean on it. I could see everyone. Unintentionally, I was open legged, tiny skin tight Lycra crotch and tight boobed t-shirt facing Emma too. I caught Emma looking me up and down and then saying, "Your tequila education begins now."
Turns out Emma is top flight bartender. I asked, "A mixologist?"
Emma shook her head, "No, no...I'm a bartender. I work a circuit for well off clientele and private parties. I'm global."
"You get hired to bartend? How is that? Does it pay well? I'm assuming it does. I never knew such a thing existed." I pondered if she was kidding me.
.
"It pays well, if you're good." Emma produced a card. It was just her first name, in black shiny lettering. Below it was her mobile, email and her social media info. "Let's begin."
"I want in too," said Mike. He was our resident creepy guy on the team. He was older but harmless. But he milked that harmlessness to cop feels.
Emma looked at him and then called, "Ken!" Ken skillfully distracted Mike with a shot of Goldschläger.
Abby, Brenda and Christa then joined us and it was a girl's roundtable of shots. Emma educated us all on tequila and Patron, what the colors meant, the finish. She ended up getting everyone the flight she bought me. It seemed innocent until I took the second shot. We all did it simultaneously and Brenda said, "I can feel it," and rubbed her left hand up and down her chest between her breasts. Mike shouted and took a photo with his mobile phone. As everyone laughed and yelled and bitched him out for being a perv, I felt Emma's right index finger on my mouth. I thought she was shushing me.
"Can you feel it?" she asked. Then she lightly traced her finger down my chin, neck and between my breasts. I just stared at her. I looked at Abby, Brenda and Christa. Christa was the only one paying attention and her eyes were bulging. Then she bit her lip.
"Did you feel that?" Christa asked, stressing the word, "feel". I nodded.
"I have to pee." I said and slowly got up.
"I got ya'," said Emma as she steadied me by holding my elbow.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," I said and pulled my arm away. I got to a stall and sat down. As I pee'd I noticed how good it felt to release. And then I realized it felt too good. When I wiped, I realized I was achy in that sexually turned-on kind of ache. I texted Percy. "Are you out of the shower?" It was 10:45. I waited five minutes but didn't hear back. Then I noticed Emma's feet outside the stall. I wiped, flushed and came out of the stall. As I washed my hands, I saw Emma step behind me and ogle my bottom.
