1. Going to the Ballgame


    Date: 10/8/2017, Categories: First Time, Mature, Taboo, Author: brianbigdogsmith, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    about my looks and clothes. We were at a baseball game, for God’s sake, so it wasn’t like I was dressed up. I wore jeans and a tank top with the team’s logo on the front. My chest strained the shirt but otherwise wasn’t that revealing. The jeans were tight so that was good. My hair was in a ponytail, and I went back and forth in my mind about whether I should let my long hair out. Overall, I knew that I was a big, full-figured girl who was nonetheless fit and looked older than my age. I couldn’t wait. My uncle was as excited as I was to be waiting for Dale outside the clubhouse door after the game. Of course his excitement was different than mine. A bunch of k**s were there when Dale came out, so he signed autographs for them but not before winking at me. He had showered, his hair still wet, and he wore jeans and some sort of a cowboy shirt, as I think of them. He looked good enough to eat. When we were the only ones left, he asked “What do I write on this?” I gushed, “To Georgie, your number one girl.” He looked at me funny, smiled and said, “You don’t really want me to put that, do you? That would mean something was going on between us, sweetheart.” I felt hot, knowing I was blushing. I leaned a little closer and whispered, “If only,” then in a louder tone said, “Put number one fan.” Dale sure heard my whisper, for he looked me up and down appraisingly and, while Uncle Eric wasn’t looking, he slipped me a business card. I normally hate it when boys leer at me like that, ...
    like they’re undressing me in their mind, but Dale Pinebold could undress me any way he wanted. He signed the bat and I gave him a kiss on the cheek. I looked at the card he gave me and it had a telephone number handwritten on the back. His cell number! I didn’t say anything before we parted; I simply nodded. I knew he understood. I masturbated twice that night, fantasizing about my favorite baseball player lying between my spread thighs. I didn’t get up the nerve to call him until the team’s next homestand. “Of course I remember you, Georgie. Why wouldn’t I?” was his answer to the question I had to ask when I called. He continued, “A pretty girl like you must always be remembered. You old enough to drink?” “Ah, not like legal,” I said. “Well, no matter around these parts,” he said. “Are you legal otherwise?” “Nothing is i*****l if you don’t get caught.” He laughed. “Fair enough, sounds like something folks down South where I’m from would say. Now, let me ask you if you can go out with me this coming Saturday.” Of course I said yes, and began my planning on how I was to explain going out. I mean, I couldn’t tell my folks I was going to go drinking with a twenty-something ballplayer. He picked me up around the corner from my house in an orange Dodge Challenger. I joked with him about that old TV show and he said, chuckling, that he’d slug me if I called him either Luke, Duke or worse, Bubba. “What if I used your real name and called you Credence?” “That wouldn’t bother me none, ...
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