“What does that mean?” I asked.
We were walking through the dirt of the infield out toward the grassy expanse of the outfield and when we got there, he sat down.
“That means that if a player who doesn’t have very good batting skills comes up to the plate or the team is down and really needs a score, I take the batter’s place and hit for them. We’ll do a little practice in a bit and see if you could be a DH, but first we have to stretch. I nodded and followed his lead as Lee guided me through a series of stretches. It felt awkward at first, but soon I found myself settling into the process, pressing deeper into the positions, and feeling my body start to come awake. I stretched my legs out in front of me and reached forward to grasp my toes. A moment later I felt Lee walk around behind me and his hands come to the center of my back. He applied pressure, easing me deeper into the stretch. It burned in my hips, but I held it.
When Lee released the pressure, he placed his hands on my ribs and guided me around to lie on my back.
“Bend your knees,” he said.
I complied and he grasped one of my ankles, picking my foot up off of the ground. He straightened my leg and pressed it straight up, then starting guiding it toward my face. His body rose up slightly to create leverage as he continued to press my leg. Though we were both dressed, the suggestiveness of the movement didn’t escape me. I felt like my body was waking up even more and I focused in on the feeling, wanting more. Lee had me switch legs and I tried to stretch further this time. Just when I felt that I couldn’t go any further, he released my leg.
“Your turn to help me now,” he said.
Lee put the soles of his feet together and leaned forward.
“Press down on my back,” he said.
I got behind him and pressed down. He barely moved.
“I don’t think I’m strong enough,” I said.
“Then lay on me.”
I turned around and rested my back on his.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Go ahead.”
I pressed into the ground with my feet, stretching out over Lee so that I could press him further down into his stretch. The warmth of his body seeped through his uniform even in the cool air of the late afternoon and I felt attraction building. We continued stretching for a few more minutes before he told me it was time for batting practice. I surprised myself at actually feeling excited about the new experience and followed him to a cage on the far side of the field. A bat was lying on the ground and Lee leaned down to pick it up.
“Have you ever done this before?” he asked.
“No.”
“OK. Well, you hold it like this.”
He demonstrated the grip on the bat and the stance of a batter. My eyes drifted over to the way that his tight pants cupped around his round, muscled ass and I smiled in appreciation. I didn’t care what he wanted to teach me, I was happy to learn if I got to keep looking at him in his uniform. He straightened and held the bat out toward me. I accepted it and tried to take the same position that he had assumed. A slight smile came to his lips and he stepped up behind me. His body molded to my back and he wrapped his arms around me, his hands coming over mine to adjust my grip and the position of my body. He helped me take a few practice swings and then stepped away from me. He pressed a button and the small yellow machine at the far end of the cage whirred to life before spitting a ball at me.
I shrieked and jumped out of the way, watching as the ball zoomed past me and smacked into a net behind me. Lee laughed and took me by my shoulders, guiding me back into the batting position. I braced myself, waiting for the ball, but when it came, I jumped out of the way again. Pressing my hand to my erratically beating heart, I turned to Lee.
“You know what? Let’s pretend that I hit it really, really well,” I said.
“OK,” he said through his continued laughter. He came toward me and took the bat out of my hands, dropping it back to the ground. “If you hit the ball really, really well, that means that it’s time to run the bases.”
“That’s something I think that I can handle.”
Lee guided me out of the cage and back to the infield. We stood on home plate and he pointed toward first.
“That’s first base,” he said, “you go there – “
“Tag! You’re It,” I said, tapping him on the shoulder and starting at the fastest pace that I could toward the base.
“That’s not the way it works!” Lee protested, but when I looked back over my shoulder at him, he was chasing me.
I jumped onto the base and turned, starting toward second. He was gaining on me and I felt his hand touch my back.
“Got you,” he said.
I turned around laughing and shrugged.
“I guess I’m not going to be a very big help to the team.”
“I don’t know about that,” Lee said. “Let’s try again. We’ll run them together this time.”
Lee brought me back to home plate and reached down to take my hand. I realized that I enjoyed the feeling of our palms touching and our fingers intertwining. There was a slight flutter in my belly, a moment of excitement that I hadn’t felt in so long. We took off running toward first base. When he got there, Lee took me by my hips to stop me and pull me closer to him. He looked down into my face.
“It looks like we got to first base,” he said.
There was something slightly smoky in his voice, as if the words were holding more meaning than they initially seemed to. I nodded and he tucked one finger under my chin, using it to tilt my face up to him. He leaned down toward me and his mouth pressed against mine. The kiss surprised me, but in a sweetly exciting way and I returned the kiss. It lasted for several seconds longer and then he pulled back to look into my eyes. He hesitated only briefly and then ducked his head down for a deeper, more intense kiss. Our mouths opened and his tongue entered mine, stroking first across the inside of my bottom lip and then delving further. His hands moved to my lower back and he pulled me up against him. I was breathless when the kiss finally ended.
“And again,” he said.
I smiled at his joke, but then felt him tugging lightly on my wrist, guiding me to start running toward second base. When we got there, he stopped me again and turned me toward him.
“Second base,” he said.
The lightness was disappearing from his voice, replaced with something richer, an attraction that was almost tangible. Though the joke had felt silly and teasing at first, it felt distinctly less childlike now as Lee kissed me again and then brought his mouth down to run along the side of my neck, kissing his way to the neckline of the jersey I wore. He unbuttoned it and pushed the sides out of the way. I could feel my chest rising and falling with sudden nervousness and my skin tingled when his fingertips touched the neckline of the tight tank top. He pulled it down, slipping it down over my breasts. Cupping both of his hands under them, Lee leaned down and swept his tongue down the swell of one breast into the valley between them, and then up over the other. He brought his tongue to the edge of the cups of my bra and let it dip beneath the fabric so that I felt the tip just brush over each of my nipples.
I was softening under his touch, already wanting more, when he stood, straightened my bra and tank top, and then buttoned my jersey again. Without hesitation, he took my hand again and we started running toward the next base. When we stopped, Lee immediately captured my mouth, kissing me with more intensity this time. I felt his hands coming to the waistband of my stretch pants and my mind starting spinning. This didn’t feel like a high school game anymore. The euphemisms didn’t seem as playful, but boldly serious.