I first noticed him at the opening game of the high school basketball season. I had heard the team was going to be good this year, and wanted to see the top senior scorer. He wasn't the one, however, that caught my eye almost immediately. It was the other senior. The shorter, more rugged guard, who was quick and handled the ball with skill. I wondered who he was, so I casually asked a parent sitting next to me in the bleachers. They told me his name and gave me a little background information.
I was mesmerized by his mature physique and just loved his brown hair, broad shoulders and muscular arms. Most of the boys on the team had crew cuts, and were almost too skinny, but not this one. He had a thick head of hair that I instantly thought would be nice to run my fingers through and a young body to die for.
As the team played during the winter season, I watched them all, but secretly lusted after the guard. I couldn't help it. It was like there was some magnet pulling me towards him. It was similar with a few other mothers that I sat with. We would cheer for him more than the others and comment on his moves and style. It was our little secret. The season eventually ended and so did my opportunity to watch him. I missed it but fortunately, I found out from the printed basketball program that he also played baseball. I eagerly awaited baseball season.
As the months warmed, baseball season approached. With anticipation, I downloaded a schedule from the school's website and decided to attend some of the games.
The first game was on an unusually warm Saturday afternoon. I drove to the home ball field, parked my car, and walked to the field. The local high school team was on the diamond and in the outfield warming up. I found a spot near the fence close to third base and just watched. It was nice to be outside now that the snow had melted and the sun was warm on my face and shoulders. Watching boys play ball always made me feel happy too. I loved their determination and competitiveness, and some of them were easy on the eyes. Being the cougar that I am, I seem to get a secret satisfaction just watching.
My team took its place on the field for the first inning and that's when I noticed him; there he was on third base. I had no idea he would be so close to me. What a treat! I stared at him from behind my sunglasses. I felt a rush of exhilaration pour through me. It was so silly, I thought. He had just turned 18, and wow, what a body and handsome face.
Occasionally he would smile at something that one of his teammates would say. He had a great smile. Impure thoughts were rushing through my head as I gazed at him in that baseball uniform. I thought to myself, "If he only knew how much this mom was lusting after him... and the things I would do to him."
The game started and he played his best - catching balls, throwing to first, tagging runners at third. He was also one of their star hitters. I had no idea. That made him even more appealing to me. As an amateur photographer, I had brought my camera with me to try to get some photos of the game, and of him, secretly. I was trying to get some good action shots of the players sliding into base as they kick up the dirt, or looking towards the sky with their glove extended to catch a fly ball. I secretly would take a few photos of him as he waited, ready for the ball to come to him. I just couldn't get enough.
The home team won, and the guys were so excited. This was only the first game of the season but they were off to a good start. I had taken some great action shots of the players and was eager to go home and edit them on my computer. Later that evening, I did just that. I selected the best photos from the bunch, straightened, cropped, and uploaded them to a photo site on the Internet.
Then I thought, "How can I let him know that I have these?" I wondered if I could email him. I had found his profile on Facebook, and although because of discretion I would never ask him to be my Facebook friend, I could email him the link to the photos. I hesitated and I didn't know what to do. What if he was annoyed and thought I was just a crazy stalker woman? But then, what if he thought I was sexy and hot. I so wanted to be his secret MILF and have him pleasure himself to the idea of me.
I decided to take a risk. I nervously worded an email so there were no underlying sexual comments. I didn't know if his parents saw his emails, and I didn't need to get a reputation in the community as being a cougar after high school boys. I was married and had a young son of my own. I complimented him on a great game and asked him to share the photos with his team mates. I didn't really care if he did that, but that way it wasn't focused on him, even though that was my true intention. I then hit the SEND button. What's done was done. How many other mothers email the players? Probably not many.
The next morning I checked my email and my heart skipped a beat when I received a reply from him. He thanked me for the photos, plain and simple. Even though it was nothing more than that, I was thrilled and thought "now I am on his radar." If he just notices me, maybe he will lust after me secretly like I do him.
That was all I could ask for. It was exciting to think about. But I was thinking about other things, about how I would love to somehow seduce him and feel my hands on his smooth, hairless, muscular chest. How I would be able to please him more than any teenaged girlfriend that he had had. My mind fantasized about all kinds of things, but mostly just a tender yet passionate encounter that would leave him wanting more.
The team played another game the next Saturday afternoon. I watched as they all played well, but couldn't help watch "my boy" on third. He was having a difficult day, however. Several balls went through his legs and he looked like he wanted to beat himself up over it. He was hard on himself. I felt bad for him. A few times, I thought that I saw him glance my way, but I wasn't sure. What if my presence was distracting to him? Albeit manipulative, I liked to imagine it was true.
I was there with camera in hand, taking photos of batters and runners, pitches and catches. I think I had a smile on my face the entire time. I also had a tight-fitting jersey and black jeans, just to stand out a little more. I had to be careful not to stand out to the parents, however, just to the the testosterone-filled boys on the bench or in the outfield. How they focused on the game and not lust after hot girls or women in the stands was beyond me. I am guessing that males can compartmentalize that way when they are in the 'zone' of playing sports.
After the game, I went home and selected the best photos from the game and uploaded them to my website again. This time I didn't email him. I didn't want to appear to be a pest, but much to my surprise, I received an email from him the next day.
"Hi, did you happen to get any photos from the recent game? I saw you there with your camera. We appreciate your sharing your photos with us." WOW! He saw me. My dream come true. I was ecstatic. But it was so silly. He was a kid. I didn't care, it made me feel good. It was an adrenaline rush and thrill I hadn't gotten in a while. I replied to his email with a link to the new photos. Shortly after that, I received another email from him saying "Great shots. I will share them with the guys. I hope you come to the next game." Wow... I was floored. I wondered if that meant anything. I wanted it to.
The next day I went out for my regular two mile walk around the neighborhood. As I was listening to fast, alternative rock music on my iPod and walking to the beat, I saw a bicyclist coming towards me. I thought nothing of it, and looked back down at the sidewalk as I walked. Then as the bicyclist approached, I noticed he looked familiar. It was him. Oh my, I didn't know what to do. I felt my heart race even more. I figured I would just say hi as he drove by, but to my surprise, he didn't go by. He slowed down and stopped when he reached me. I took my earbuds out of my ears and looked up with a smile.
"Hey," I said with a smile.
"Hi, you're Rachel, the one who's sent me photos, right?" he said.
"Yes I am." I replied.
"I wanted to thank you so much. We really love seeing those action shots," he mentioned. "You're a good photographer."
