Moms Little League

"Good game, guys! I'll see you next week!" I shouted as they ran hooting to their moms and dads, exuberant over our first win of the season.

I loaded up bases, extra bats, used balls, even a few gloves for the guys who forgot theirs. Behind me, I heard, "Jim? Hi."

I turned and there was Paulie, all 5 feet of him, his hat crooked, a big clump of uncombed sandy blond hair sticking out, serious brown eyes, that big silly smile. "Hey, Buddy, what's up?"

"I just wanted to thank you for letting me play so much. I didn't do too bad, huh?" I had to smile back at him. The one grounder hit to him went through the wickets. He chased it down and threw to the wrong base. And he flied out twice.

"Yeah, Paulie," I said. "I thought that guy was gonna drop your second shot for sure. Good contact!"

"Mom's gonna be real happy, too! You gotta meet her, Jimmy, I know you'd like her!"

I smiled again. He reminded me so much of myself, short for my age back then, not very good in sports but loving the game, always enthusiastic.

"I'm sure I would, Buddy. You need a ride, or is she coming for you?"

"She's coming, soon! I get to see Dad tonight, I stay with him on weekends but I go early this week."

"Good, for you, Buddy, I'm sure you'll have a great time." I still feel awkward talking to kids about divorce, but they seem to adapt quickly.

Paulie helped by dragging the duffel bag to my van. It was too heavy for him to lift, but he wouldn't quit. The parking lot was empty and I make a point of not leaving until all the kids are gone. God forbid something happened to one of them, so Paul climbed up front with me and about ten minutes later, her SUV came flying in.

"There she is! Wanna meet her, Jimmy?"

"I'm sure she's in a hurry, Champ."

But she pulled right in front of me as Paul scrambled out to hug her. She squeezed him tight, and then looked up at me. And I felt like I was in a time machine.

The green eyes, bright with wonder. The blond hair, brushed back from her face, showing high cheek bones. I felt myself gasp. Mom! If I hadn't held her hand as she laid dying, and seen the casket close on her, I would swear that the woman standing before me was my very own mother, at 40, rather than 60 when she died.

Paul's mother gave me the biggest smile and came around to my door. I stepped out, in a fog.

Paul came running between us. "Mom, this is Mr. Flynn, but we get to call him Jimmy! Jim, this is my mom, Lynn Coyle, she's single, too!"

We both smiled as we looked at him, then she put out her hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Paul talks about you incessantly. 'Jimmy this' and 'Jimmy that'! I feel as if I know you already!"

She was Mom's height, weight! Same cute figure, always turning men's heads.

"Same here," I said, "You remind me of someone not sure who, though."

She squeezed my hand. "I get that a lot. I guess I'm common looking."

"Oh no, not at all!"

Paulie stood watching, happy with the progress, even though he didn't understand it, but neither did we. "Can Jimmy come to dinner, Mom, pleeeeeease!"

"We have to meet your father, Honey, right now. I have your bag in the car. He's expecting us in five minutes."

"Oh, awright! But next week, huh?"

She smiled at me, trying to find a suitable answer for a nine year old.

I interjected. "Tell you what, if it's alright with your mom, I'll take you for tacos after next week's game, then drop you off, okay?"

Paul looked down, shuffled his feet. "I guess."

"You don't want to?"

"If the guys see me going to Taco Bell with you, they'll call me a brown-nose, say I'm just trying to get more playing time."

"Oh, I see," I said, and I did. You got playing time by playing well, or the better kid didn't show up, not by sucking up.

"Honey, listen, we'll work something out when you get back. I'm sure, Mr... Jimmy is very busy, okay? Now scoot on up and let's get to your father!"

Paul gave me his best fist bump followed by flailing fingers, then turned and was off.

Lynn looked at me. "Listen, I know the last thing you want is to be hanging out with a kid and his mother, but I burn a mean steak!"

"Hmm, my favorite! But I'll bring the steaks and I'll cook them to perfection. After next week's game?"

She smiled, her hair flowing behind her. "You have a date, Mister Jim. I'll key our little friend in on the way. See you!" With that, she was flying into the SUV, waving as she pulled out.

I don't usually get involved with parents. The kids are fine but all the parents, moms and dads, think their kid deserves special attention. Every one just needs a chance to play to be the next Derek Jeter. But how often do you meet the spitting image of your mom?

The next Thursday, Paul and I waited for her arrival. We were both anxious, but I kept it hidden.

She appeared, in a hurry again. This time she just rolled down the window. "Sorry I'm late. Just follow me, okay?"

And we did, as well as we could. She drove like she talked, fast, zipping through traffic. Luckily, Paul knew the way, because she lost us within a half mile.

I pulled into the driveway behind her, took the coolers out of the back, one which held the steaks, and the other, my brand of beer, Bud Light. I like to come prepared.

We went around back, she was scrambling through the kitchen, having already fired up the gas grill. The sprawling deck was new, as was the grill. The backyard had a nice above-ground pool, maybe 18 feet across.

Out the kitchen window she yelled, "You boys better wash up, especially you, Jim, you're not handling food with those hands!"

"Yes, Ma'am," we said in two-part harmony, and we smiled at each other. "Come on, Jim, you can use the big one downstairs!"

She had laid out towels, hair brush, soap, even a razor. I sufficed with rinsing the dust off with a face cloth, scrubbing my face and hands, then wetting and combing my hair. Not near perfect, but for 25, after working a eight hour shift at the mill, then spending three hours coaching kids, presentable.

My light brown hair, had darkened since I was Paul's age, but my brown eyes seemed shaped the same as his, and I wondered if Lynn saw any similarities. Probably just my imagination.

The fire was going good, and I had the steaks marinating in tupperware. I learned how to eat from my father, but how to cook from my mother. I popped open a beer and took orders. Lynn said Medium Rare, but Paul seemed confused, and looked at his mother.

She half-smiled. "He's being a wise-guy now." To Paul, she said, "Like when we go out for dinner? Don't say how I always burn them, Mister, I already went through this with Jim."

Paul had a big smile, even though she had ruined his joke. "She does, too. That's why we got the grill, the smoke alarms kept going off inside!"

"Humph, you are the king of exaggeration, Paul. A real riot!"

It was good to see them get along so well. Poking fun is another way of saying I love you, and Mom and I did it often.

The steaks were a big hit, along with a nice salad, and store-bought, home-made, potato salad and macaroni salad.

The sun set and it was time to go, but Lynn said, "I was gonna put coffee on, and Paul, it's past your time anyway."

Paul said goodnight and she poured coffee, offering an after-dinner cordial. I had Anisette and she chose Sambuca.

"Paul really likes you, I can see why."

"Oh, thanks, he's a great kid, really, reminds me of me at his age."

"Really? That's funny, except for the height, you could pass for father and son...a very young father for his age!"

I smiled. "I was the same height at his age. Come High School and I shot up six inches in one year."

"Good, I hope he does, too. Not that it matters but, between you and me, he got his sports prowess from me, not his father, poor kid!"

"I was always the last kid to be picked, so I can relate. I guess that's why the parents of the good players don't want them on my team, because I try to share playing time. They're all just kids, it's supposed to be fun for them, we get serious soon enough."

We sat, the candle burning on the table, and she poured another.

She said, "Seems like the bugs are out now. If you like, we have a finished basement. We can adjourn down there, unless you're in a rush."

I was in no rush at all.

I followed her in and down the stairs that led to the bathroom I had used. The larger room contained a pool table, bar, cable TV, a great little man-cave.

She closed the door so we wouldn't disturb Paulie, two floors up. "Rack them up, if you like, I'm not very good at pool, this was my ex's playroom."

I did, and she broke. She was right, about not being very good, and she commented on how well I was doing. "The product of an ill-spent youth," I waxed, poetic.

When she shot, her back hand was moving all over. I bent across from her and said, "No, like this, back and forth."

She shanked the next shot and said, "Oh, I'm just uncoordinated."

"Lynn, if I can play pool, anybody can. it's all angles. Basic math. Let me show you."

I stood next to her, and said, "Hold it like this," showing her how the cue stick rested in my fingers.

"I can't!"

I took her left hand and placed it on the felt, then formed it in the proper manner. "Now the other hand." I reached around her, grabbing the handle behind her back, my body making contact with her back. "Now, just try going straight back with the cue, and forward, don't have the back end swimming around."

She leaned forward, concentrating, and in that motion, her ass came in contact with my pelvis, and we both froze. I said nothing, then she said, "You mean no wiggling.... like this?" and she jiggled her ass against me, and I jumped in surprise.

She turned, covering her mouth, and burst into laughter. "I'm so sorry! When I get nervous, I make jokes, and when I felt you, and you just stood there... You jumped so high!" and she was roaring now.

I could only grin. I had jumped like a jolt of electricity had passed through me, and my grin turned into a smile, turned into a laugh.

'You're a very different person, Lynn, and I mean that in a good way. I see Paulie gets his sense of humor from you, too!"

She put her hand on my chest and rested her head against it, still laughing. "I haven't laughed this hard in... a long time! I feel like a kid again! Thank you, Jimmy, for being there for Paul, and for being here tonight."

Without thinking, as she rested her head on me, I put my arms around her shoulders, and now when she looked up at me, I was holding her, close, too. "Thanks for having me. This was clearly the best night for me in a long time." I kissed the top of her head, softly, and said, "You're ex must be a fool."

She looked up at me, and I said, "I'm sorry, that was out of line."

"You're right," she whispered, "He's a jerk, and a cheat. And he lost all this, and Paul and me, and he still doesn't get it, chasing his youth, hitting on teens. Forty five going on Twenty. But he's happy, and I guess I am, too, sometimes."

"You're still so young, yourself, I'm sure the guys flock after you."

She smiled. "A lot of propositions from married men, some fathers of Paul's team mates, creeps who think divorced women are easy. Maybe some are. And I'm sure 'm too selective. Whatever, I meet so few men who I'm comfortable with, of any age."

"How about me?"

She smiled, dreamily. "Hmm, if you were fifteen years older, Mister, you'd never get out of here alive!"

"I'm really a lot older than I look. I just carry it well."

Her arms were around my waist now. "You carry it very well, unfortunately, I don't."

"Are you kidding me? I'll tell you what, you're next free night, I take you out. Dinner, drinks, and i guarantee no one looks at us unusually, except for 'What does she see in him?' looks, not because of age."

"Yeah? And how would we know?"

"I'd take you to an old place, where everybody is older than us. We all look like kids to them, if they can see at all!"

She giggled, "That might work!"

"So, it's a date?"

"What can I say? You swept me off my feet! But let's keep Paul out of this. He has a way of telling his dad things. Not on purpose, he just wants us both to be happy, even if we're divorced."

"Fine, I don't want the team thinking I'm playing Paul so much to brown-nose his mother!"

"Hmmm, that just might work!"

"Deal!" I bent to kiss her and she giggled again, and I was embarrassed but she pulled me back, and said, Then 'Play Ball!" and she kissed me back holding me to her, and our mouths melded, lips moving, tongue darting.

It felt weird if I thought about Mom, so I intentionally didn't. And before I could make a move, she had clenched my ass with both hands and was grinding into my pelvis, which held my semi-erection.

She moved so sultry against me, and in a minute I was fully hard and my seven inches pressed back against her and I held her close, until I felt her hand between us now, massaging me through my jeans, her small fingers wrapped around the shaft, and she whispered, "Hmmm, nice bat!"

I grinned, "Glad you like it."

Her other hand ran over my chest and she said, "I may have to choke up on it!" With that, she slid to her knees and pried at my jeans, and I helped her, thinking, "How do I face Paulie after his mom sucks my cock?"

Once they were open, she pulled them down, with my jockeys, and my big cock head bounced out. "Oh, Jimmy!" she sighed as she corralled it and started stroking, flicking her tongue out in flashes, catching the tip, then pulling back the skin, with an, "ahh."

I looked down to see her engulf my cock, taking me in one motion, and thought, "No choking from her!"

She began to work me, up and down. I could feel my cum backing up, getting ready to charge, so I bent and pulled her up, and she said, "What's wrong?"

I said, "Nothing, it's just that you got me going so much, I'm gonna cum if you don't stop."

She smiled and kissed me. "Well, isn't that the idea?"

"Well, yeah... but..."

She said, "My turn can come later. And you'll last longer, too, I bet! Now, get on the table."

I lifted myself up, and she pushed me back, gently. She smiled as she bent over me again, swallowing my cock as she purred, and the vibration tingled to my base.

I held my head up to watch her, that sandy hair falling around her face, which was better because I didn't think of Mom as much.

Some women do oral sex because they think it is expected. Some do it because they like it: Lynn liked it. It showed in her eagerness, how she stroked and kissed, and in no time, I was truly ready, and told her. She didn't miss a beat.

The hot lave flowed up the volcano and the natives scattered as the top blew off, but Lynn kept the volcano from making too much of a mess, she stayed on it as a lid and drank down every waves of hot liquid.

I felt myself soften as she continued to lick me until I was clean. She moved up my body, inching her way, this head of hair, still covering her face. When she was above me, her hair parted and her face came into view, Mom's face, smiling at me and I kissed her deeply, tasting my cum.

I rolled on my side and felt her firm breasts, and she whispered, playfully, "my turn!"

One hand slid her blouse over her head while the other found the hook in back, and I expertly had it off her and I was biting and sucking at her sensitive nipples as she moaned ooh and aahs, while holding my head.

Her shorts opened easily and I slid those down, and she lay sprawled on the felt and my hand found her wetness, and we kissed, then I trailed kisses down her body, stopping at her nipples again, then her tummy, then to heaven, spreading her and allowing the cool air to cause her to wiggle. Then I lowered my head and perched at her clit, taking it between my lips and tightening as she squealed with delight.

After a bit, she pulled me up, too, saying, "Okay, you got me ready, not that I wasn't before!"

I hovered over her, hard again because I was proud of how she reacted to my best moves, and loving the taste of her.

She held my shaft again, and said, "Okay, baby, my turn, now, put it in me!"

I inched in slowly, not because she couldn't take me but because I loved toying with her, and she whimpered as I drew back and went again.

In a minute, I was fully inside her and we were rocking back and forth, her legs around my waist as I plunged into her.

I did last longer, so long that I got tired, and I think she felt it because she moved under me and in a flash, she was on top, hunched over, riding me like the Pony Express, for all I was worth.

She was rambling on, spurring me on, with, Oh, yeah, baby like that, yeah, give me more!"

She arched her back, threw back her head and said, "I'm cumming, baby!" and I did, too, arched my bad, stayed frozen there as my cock spasmed and spewed, my cum shooing up into her, and we both collapsed into each other, kissing and whispering.

Needless to say, Paul started for the rest of the season.