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This story is based on actual events. Only the names and facts have been changed to protect the guilty. As always, comments & feedback is highly sought after…


My best friend at work is Jodie- a dynamic, energetic, highly creative girl with a great sense of humor and sense of fun. She’s also a stone-cold fox, and, unfortunately for me, an inveterate lesbian.

On rare occasions we would go on business travel to the same conventions or meetings, and would always hang out together, sometimes posing as boyfriend/girlfriend or even a married couple- which surprisingly enough often got her hooked up with a babe. A much rarer occurrence for me, unfortunately, but we’d always laugh about it.

Anyway, Jodie has played with the same group of women for years in both women’s and co-ed softball leagues, and at the beginning of this last season she asked me to fill in on one of the co-ed teams that had lost their shortstop. She knew that I had played college ball and pursued a minor league career for longer than I probably should have, but I was reluctant: I had played a little softball during my stint in the military, but had always viewed it as sort of boring, and more of a game for less… serious ball players.

But Jodie can be pretty persuasive, so I ended up playing with her and her buddies, the female component of which was laughingly referred to as ‘dykes on spikes’- although I later learned that not all were lesbian. We played every Thursday night in a league, and I also committed to a couple of tournaments- some out of state, and one as far away as Las Vegas.

This team played at the highest classification level, and was ultra-competitive. I found it hard to take it that seriously, but was surprised to find that I had a pretty good time. Because of my own kind of unique sensibilities about playing against women, I would usually just tap the ball out of the infield or spray soft line drives around- I never wanted to hit the ball hard because I didn’t want to be the one who hurt one of the girls, although it didn’t seem to bother the other men on the team much.

Not that the girls wanted- or even probably needed- protection: they could really play some ball at this level.

We played at a four-plex of fields, and whenever we were scheduled for the last game of the night we would usually sit around the dugout and share a cooler of beer: one of the girls on the team worked for the city parks department, and we could leave the lights on as long as we wanted.

After the last game of the season, we were sitting there celebrating the fact that we had just won the championship, when the league president walked up with some paperwork for our coach- a big, husky blonde woman named Pam.

One of the things he brought her was a certificate for League Batting Champion, and she came over to the dugout and gave it to me. “Hey- says here you went 46 for 52, for a .900 batting average,” She said, handing me the certificate. “That’s as high as I’ve ever heard of- nice job!”

There was congratulations and laughter from up and down the bench, and some good-natured ribbing too, which was the norm on this team. One of the women stood up and yelled “I bet you bucks to blow-jobs he couldn’t do that off of Becky. He wouldn’t even touch her stuff!”

I laughed along with the rest- Dana was a short, muscular little gal with easily the fiercest competitive streak of anyone on the team- she was the spark-plug that made the team go, and I liked her a lot. Her fiery personality reminded me of my best buddy from college, who also played second base and made the whole team better just by the way they approached the game.

“Blow jobs to bucks? What the hell kind of bet is that?” One of the guys said.

“My uncle used to use that line,” said another güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri player. “I haven’t heard it for years.”

But for some reason Jodie got fired up on my behalf. “Say what? You think your little girlfriend there could strike out Todd? And you’d bet blow jobs? I have fifty dollars that says he knocks her all around the park.”

Dana bristled. Becky was her girlfriend, a tall, quiet girl with a shy smile, who rarely said anything at all. She was tall and lanky, and I’d heard she had pitched at LSU or Mississippi State or somewhere. “I’ve got catching gear in the truck,” she said. “I say Becky can throw five strikes by him- only at fifty bucks per strike.” She said.

Jodie shrugged. “Or a blow-job for each one he hits then, right? And who gives the bj- you or Becky?”

Dana nearly jumped at her. “Nobody’s going to have to- he aint gonna hit any. Look at how he swings, like he’s a big pansy!”

Pam stepped in, and I could see by the red flush on her face that for some reason she was really mad. “You’re the one talking all the shit, Dana.” She said. “So either back down or go get your gear on- but if you lose, you’re the one on your knees, right there at home plate.”

Dana glared for a minute, then looked at Becky and got a shrug and a nod. “OK- fuck it. I’m getting the gear on”.

Jodie came over to stand by me. “Um, you’re OK with all this, right?”.

I laughed. “You wait till now to ask? But yeah, sure- I’m game.”

“Good. ‘Cause if you don’t win I’m going to need to borrow some money off you…”

I watched Becky warm up- she was good. The team was sort of crowding around the plate, ooh-ing and aah-ing as she threw rises, drops and change-ups.

“Wow- are you sure about this?” Jodie whispered.

I grinned confidently and whispered as I stepped towards the batters box. “I used to play for a Tournament team. No sweat.”

I wasn’t quite as confident as I tried to sound. I had played for a traveling men’s fast-pitch tournament team for a few seasons, and the pitching we routinely faced was a lot faster than Becky, but that had been three or four years ago. Still, in theory it was like riding a bicycle, right? And hitting is mostly confidence, or so my old coach used to say.

Dana stood up and took off her catcher’s mask. “OK- five strikes- if you hit it and we agree it’s a base hit, it’s a fucking blow job. If it’s a strike- and I’m the umpire, no arguing- its $50 bucks- they cancel each other out.”

“Wait- how do we decide if it’s a hit? That’s not fair. And you said he couldn’t even touch her- if he even fouls it off he should win.” Jodie pointed out.

Pam rubbed her chin. “Nah- it’s got to be a hit. The rest of the team will go out and take positions. No base-running, or throwing the ball around- if we catch it cleanly, it’s an out. But no welshing on this bet, from either side- you got it?” She glared at everyone involved and the team laughed gleefully as they ran out to take up defensive positions, many of them with a can of beer in hand. I wouldn’t be facing a primed defense, at least.

You could cut the tension with a knife. Dana squatted behind me muttering beneath her breath. I could hear her cussing herself for getting into this predicament, and then Becky was winding up for the first pitch.

It was a riser, and even as I swung the bat I realized it would have been a ball if I’d of let it go. But my hands were fast enough to get the bat through the zone and on it, and the ball arced high down the left-field line. The fence was three-hundred foot away, and the ball landed a couple of feet short of it, but foul- well beyond the reach of the hard-charging left fielder.

I looked back at Dana. “What’s a foul ball mean?”

She stood up and shrugged, güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri but I could see the uneasiness in her eyes. She hadn’t expected me to be able to touch that ball at all.

“Do-over!” Pam decided from first base. “Fouls are just do-overs.”

The next pitch was a change-up, and a good one. She had me way out front, but I managed to beat the ball into the ground. It hopped up over Becky’s head and out towards second base. A really good shortstop might have made the play, but the guy that was playing there was normally our third baseman, and built for power, not speed and the ball bounced into the outfield.

“Base- hit!” Jodie crowed. “One blow-job coming up!”

Cackles and hoots came from all over the field, and Dana was cursing sulfurously from behind the plate. I saw Becky’s face get red- whether from anger or embarrassment I couldn’t tell, but either way I felt a little sorry for her.

Her next pitch was a drop ball, a little down and in, and I let it go by. “Strike!” Shouted Dana, and a mixed chorus of boos and cheers went up from around the field.

I shrugged and waited for the next pitch- another drop ball, a little more out over the plate. I laced it into left center field, a clean base hit.

“Should I run and get my camera now? I need some new risqué shots for my facebook page!” Jodie called.

“I’m gonna punch that cunt right in the face.” Dana muttered from behind me.

“Hey, look,” I said. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re just playing around here. I wouldn’t actually make anybody-“

“Shut the fuck up!” She snarled. “You think I’m afraid of you, or your ‘bat’?” She took off her mask, and for a minute I thought she was going to swing it at me.

Pam came stalking in. “Get your bony little as back behind the plate.” She snarled. “You made this bed, and you’re damned sure going to lie in it.”

On the next pitch, Becky tried to throw a rise so hard it sailed clear to the backstop, and Dana trotted out to talk to her. I could see them both glancing back to me, and Becky smiled and nodded.

As Dana trotted back past me she kind of half-grinned “I told her if she screwed up she’d be sucking dick right alongside me. I think that kind of turned her on a little.”

She went back into her squat, and now she began to chatter. “OK, stud- here it comes. You know you can’t handle the hard stuff, here it comes- you got no chance, pansy-boy…”

The pansy remark made up my mind: no point trying to be nice. I could see it was a change-up: Becky tipped it off by slowing down her motion too soon. I waited for it and banged it, hard. It rattled off the left field fence, a few links short of going over.

Jodie threw her glove up in the air in exultation. “Hoo-ee- three hits- we can’t lose now! Its blow-job time- somebody’s getting a mouthful of jizz!

I glanced back at Dana- she was standing there looking kind of stunned, looking like she’d just been punched in the gut.

“We still have one more pitch.” Pam called out. “Throw it.”

I waived half-heartedly at the next one, letting it go by untouched, and the game was over. Everybody came running in to crowd around the plate, laughing and beginning the inevitable chant: “Blow job! Blow Job!”

Dana threw a desperate look at Pam, but she just folded her arms over her massive tits. “Somebody go turn off the lights.” She said.

Dana wouldn’t look at me- or at anyone. She stood there with her head down, staring at home plate, and when the lights suddenly went out I thought I heard her gasp out loud.

“On your knees, cock-sucker!” Jodie laughed.

I could see Dana’s shoulders trembling. “Wait a minute. I said I’d pay up, but I never said I was giving all you perverts a damned porn show!”

Pam considered güvenilir bahis şirketleri this and made a quick judgment. “OK- everybody else in the dugout then. I need a new beer, anyway.”

There were moans and good-natured protests, but everybody trailed back to the dugout still laughing and slapping each other on the back.

Only Jodie and Becky were left at home plate with Dana and I, and we huddled close to our prospective companions, whispering.

“Hey, if this is too much for you, it’s cool.” Jodie whispered. “She’s already been taken down a peg enough for me- if you want to just call it quits or anything”

But the thought of winning a semi-public blow job in hard fought battle- as it were- was somehow kind of a turn on. I felt my Johnson stirring, and it reminded me immediately that I was still wearing a cup. “No, it’s OK. I think I’ll go through with this.” I whispered back, and reached into my shorts to pull the cup out.

“He’s whipping it out!” Came the call from the dugout.

“Stand back, somebody could lose an eye!” yelled another, and their laughter rang out through the night.

Dana plopped to her knee pads on the plate, keeping her back to the dugout. “OK- I guess you’re ready, then. Let’s do it.”

I glanced around. Jodie and Becky were just standing there, and neither seemed inclined to leave. I looked down at Dana, illuminated only by the moonlight. She had thick, wavy blonde hair in a short, mannish haircut, and a heart-shaped face. I knew her eyes were a bright, intense shade of blue, but now they were just glittering lights. The catcher’s gear looked like some sort of weird armor on her, and I kind of wished she would squat like she was taking a pitch for a minute.

I took a deep breath and yanked my shorts and underwear down past my knees and stepped in close.

Dana didn’t hesitate: she reached up and grabbed my prong and stuck the crown into her mouth. She seemed almost clinical, like a nurse that was there to change a bandage or something. Her cheeks caved in as she sucked fiercely on my dickhead, and as the shaft extended as I grew hard, she began pumping up and down its length with her fist.

She didn’t do anything else- no licking, no slurping, no nibbling on the sensitive under part of the shaft, none of the attention that I normally really liked, but she had a firm grip, and she was pumping me hard.

I glance at Becky, then at Jodie. Both were staring, seemingly enthralled. I saw Becky’s hand ease down to her crotch through her own shorts, and Jodie’s licked her lips unconsciously.

“Go, go, go!” Came the chant from the dugout, and I looked over at it. I could dimly make out someone waving, and I threw them a thumbs up.

“Swallow it all, bitch!” Laughed one of the other women on the team. It looked like at least a couple people were making out at the far end of the bench.

I was surprised to find that my orgasm was already building. “Hey, I’m almost there.” I warned her, but she only nodded, keeping up her suction.

I threw my head back and tried to keep from groaning out loud as my first burst of cum fired out. Dana tried gamely to swallow it down, but by the third blast she was gagging, and she pulled off me, allowing the subsequent blasts to shoot over her hair and face.

Becky cried out- the loudest sound I had ever heard from her, and Jodie yelled “Bingo!”, and cheers and applause erupted from the dugout.

Dana rose to her feet, whipping at the ism that glistened on her cheek and chin. “Well, you cant say I don’t pay up.” She sort of half-smiled.

“Um…thanks.” I said. “It was really good.”

She guffawed. “Don’t bullshit me. I haven’t done that since Junior High School. I wasn’t any good at it back then, either. Ew, it tastes just like I remember it.” She glanced over at Becky. “Somebody deserves a pretty good spanking for screwing up here tonight.”

We all started walking back to the dugout together. “Is my guy a stud or what?” Jodie asked.

Dana laughed somewhat bitterly. “Well, I aint making any bets against it.”


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