"Millie's Vast Expanse"
© Copyright 2017/2021 by Millie Dynamite
NOTE: This work contains material not suitable for anyone under the age of eighteen (18) or those of a delicate nature. This is a story and contains descriptive scenes of a graphic sexual nature. This book is purely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, whether living, deceased, actual events, or locales, is entirely coincidental and unintentional.
Tomboy
tomboy noun 1. an energetic, sometimes boisterous girl whose behavior and pursuits, especially in games and sports, are considered more typical of boys than of girls. 2. A tomboy is a girl who exhibits characteristics or behaviors considered typical of a boy, including wearing masculine clothing and engaging in games and activities that are physical in nature and are considered unfeminine or the domain of boys. 3. tomboy, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, "The term tomboy has been connected with connotations of rudeness and impropriety throughout its use." 4. Tomboy = all of the above + Terri Bell.
Terri Hits a Homer
Her name is Harmony Hunter, a late-thirties, divorced woman. No longer the happy couple, they drifted. Aaron Hunter found others to gratify his desires, Harmony sat home alone. The result, they grew apart. Being a generous and wealthy man, Aaron gave her an allowance. Not that she needs the assistance, but the gesture, soothed his guilt-ridden conscience. They say the divorce was amicable if such a thing is possible. Abandoned and lonely, Harmony satisfied her own needs in a rich, detailed fantasy life.
Her interest turned not to men but to women. So, seeking fodder for her fantasies, she discovered the local junior college, and one day Harmony stumbled upon the school's fast-pitch softball team, The Lady Bees. The team became her obsession. Harmony went down to the stadium to watch the team play every home game. When they were out of town, she viewed them on TV. Her obsession centered on the girl wearing number seven. The first time Harmony spotted her playing, she leaned over and asked a man about her.
"Who's number seven?"
"She's an Oklahoma girl. Her name's Terri, Terri Bell. She requested number seven—it was Mantle's number," he said as though she should know who Mantle was.
She thanked him and returned to observing the game—well, the girl. Five weeks later, near the end of summer, Harmony Hunter sat in the stands watching the last game of the season. If she didn't act now, the woman knew she'd have a long wait until the games returned in April.
The Lady Bees played a junior college from another county. The two teams battled eight and a half innings for a 3-3 tie. Harmony hoped the game would go into extra innings. She loved fast-pitch softball. To be more specific, she loved ogling the muscled-up girls who played fast-pitch softball.
"Now coming to bat, number 7, Terri Bell," the announcer said.
Terri took her place in the batter's box, batting left-handed. She took two practice swings, keeping her concentration on the pitcher. The other team chanted, "She can't hit," while her teammates yelled, "Knock the cover off the ball, Ter."
The pitcher took her wind up and let go a blistering, chest-high, hardball. Terri swung, twisted her entire body into the effort she connected. The ball climbed higher and higher. Finally, without observing the ball sail over the fence, Terri dropped her bat and took off with a leisurely jog for first base.
"Oh goodness, folks, 'at's your game. Another four-bagger from Terri Bell, her 37th home run of the year, the ninth one left-handed," the announcer said.
He rattled off other stats as Terri rounded the bases in a dead run. When she came to home plate, she jumped on home plate.
The game was over, the crowd started to disperse. This was Harmony's last chance to talk to her until next season. Moving against the flow, Harmony rushed down the bleachers toward the playing field. Her high heels clicked and clanked on the aluminum stairs, and Harmony shouting.
"Please, give me a minute. Wait, please, Miss Bell. Hold on for a second."
Hearing the commotion, several of the girls glowered at the older lady rushing toward them. Harmony waved her arm in the air, and her enormous breasts bounced under her clothing as she bounded down the stairs.
"Hey, Ter, some mad woman's screaming your name," one of the players called back to the dugout.
Terri climbed the dugout steps back to the field and twisted around to glance into the stands. Harmony collapsed against the chain-link fence, clutching her fingers in the holes, and realized, in a moment of clarity, she must appear insane.
"Wow, you must think me mad," she said, struggling to catch her breath.
The other girls shrugged and ambled away, headed for the showers. Harmony was left alone with Terri. "I wanted to tell you how marvelous you played today. Your home run was impressive."
"Okay," Terri said. "Um, yeah, well, thanks." She turned and started to walk away.
"You're attending summer classes?" Harmony said in a rush, desperate to keep her from leaving until her mind formulated something to say.
"No, ma'am. I'm only bumming around," she said, again turning to leave.
"Do you have a job?" Harmony blurted out, unsure of anything else to say.
"No, I reckon I should find me one. Do you know anyone who's hiring?"
"Well, yes, as a matter of fact," Harmony said. "I am."
"You are? What's the job?"
"I, uh, need someone to mow and take care of the gardens at my house. You could start tomorrow. I'll pay 15 dollars an hour—if you think I'm fair with that pay."
"Are you serious? Sure, 15's fair. What time do you want me to come?" Terri said.
"Come around 1:00pm" Harmony dug into her purse for a scrap of paper and a pen, scribbled furiously, and handed the paper to Terri.
"The address is on this. I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah, all right," Terri said, tucking the scrap into the back pocket of her uniform pants. "Tomorrow."
"Yes, tomorrow." Harmony scrutinized her hardbody as Terri jogged back to the locker room and worried how she would handle her other gardeners coming tomorrow.
* * * * **
When she lay in bed in the night, Terri thought of the woman from the ballgame. She wondered how old she was. She thought of the woman's piercing, green eyes, and her heavy breasts. She remembered her sensuous mouth and the way her tongue darted out, moistening her lips between sentences. She visualized her high cheekbones, the delicate curve of her jaw, how pleasingly plump the woman's curves were.
"I can own the rich bitch," she said.
Throwing off her sheets, Terri gazed over at the other empty bed in her room. Her roommate had gone home for the summer, so she was alone. Slipping her hand to her breast, pressing, squeezing, and rub the tight, small mound. The other hand slid down to her panties, and she ran her fingers underneath the elastic band.
Pushing further down, she worked her clit with her thumb while she played with her labia. Terri stroked her fingers over the outer lips, thrusting inside further, teasing her inner ones. Digging inside herself with two fingers, Terri worked herself as she bucked and rocked on the bed. Soon, Terri's hips bucked as the first hint of a climax teased her body.
"Fuck, oh, God, this is, so, pleasant."
All the tension of the day melted away. With a slow, deliberate pace, Terri brought herself to the edge, passing over the top. Bucking, her body convulsed, and the bed shook. Once the eruption ended, her body relaxed, and she finally drifted off sleep, a beautiful sheen of moisture covering her hard hot body.
* * * * *
The motorcycle rumbled between her legs. The vibrations tickled her clit as Terri rode around in the country, killing time. The motor thundered as she sped up on the highway. The reverberations agitated her clit, the moisture built inside, and Terri grew more provoked with each mile. Finally, pulling onto a dirt road, she found a tailwater pond and pulled up on the bank overlooking the still waters.
Clutching the seat with her legs, Terri gunned the engine. Over and over, she twisted the throttle ramping up the RPMs near the redline. Once Terri let the motor idle down, the thing began again, repeatedly goosing the engine.
