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Home Run

12

Texas Rangers fans eagerly anticipated the game against the division rival, and more importantly, the weather on this cool August evening. Showers in the morning and a cold front bringing Canadian air had left the temperature in the eighties with an overcast sky. The summer ritual of car-influenced back sweats had been broken. This was a great change from the countless hundred degree days in the concrete jungle known as Dallas/Fort Worth.

Crowds of people lined the sidewalks, the majestic ballpark their destination. The Ballpark in Arlington, also known as "The Temple," was indeed that. Being in the shadow of the "Death Star" had done nothing to detract from the beauty of the stadium. Inspired by the ballparks of earlier eras, the fantastic iron working, reddish-brown bricks, and dark green open roof solidify this work of architecture. Cathedral inspired steeples accent the ticket gates of the stadium, welcoming committed fans.

"I guess everyone had the same idea we did. It couldn't be a better night for it," Greg said, leaning over to drop a small kiss on his girlfriend's temple. He didn't have to bend down; her height easily matched his. She stretched to over six feet when she wore pumps.

Jane smiled and squeezed his hand, "But it's not too chilly to wear adorable things for your man," she said with a gleam in her eye.

The pair stopped at the intersection amongst a countless number of people, too many to fit all on the sidewalk. Jane and Greg stood hand in hand on the street, rather than be squeezed by the herd. Her paces were measured, conscious of the steep curb to her right.

A cop looked at the couple and grumbled, "Out of the street, folks."

Greg tugged on his girlfriend's hand and brought her up onto the sidewalk with him. She nearly tripped as her blue spiked heel caught on the cement.

Jane rolled her eyes with a sigh. "So high and mighty in your reflective vest aren't you mister po-po?" she muttered under her breath, tucking a blonde strand that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear.

Greg chuckled, "Oh Janie, give him a break he's just doing his job," he said, patting her ass through her tight denim skirt. Her gloriously long legs that turned the heads of bored husbands dominated the garment.

She leaned into him as they began walking again, finding their way to the first base side ticket gate. Jane pulled the downloaded tickets from her blue patent leather handbag, "I wish we had real tickets, printed on gloss, and was not some big ass piece of paper with a barcode that's supposed to almost look like a ticket."

"I totally agree with you baby. Plus I know you keep things like that," he smiled to her as he took his sheet of paper. "Let's just hope that the old printer didn't smear the barcode."

Jane already had her purse open and set it down on the table in front of the burly security guard. He looked her up and down as Greg waited patiently. He was used to men ogling his woman. She was hot, to put it mildly, and he was proud to have her on his arm. Though, sometimes he wondered what she saw in him.

The security guard took longer than he needed to check her handbag. He licked his lips, "So, are you a real fan?" he asked as he looked over her white and blue replica jersey, snug around the soft curve of her breasts.

Greg cupped his hand over the crown of his Rangers cap as his eyes rolled in annoyance.

"Uh, yeah, what says I'm not?" she asked with resentment in her tone. Her hand sat on her hip, cocking her head to the side. "Do you see pink on this jersey?"

He gave her a crude smile, still leering at the beautiful creature before him. "Nothing, just a lot of girls are drug here by their boyfriends," he said, tilting his head to get a better look at her slender calves, toned by her heels.

"This was my idea, actually," Jane scoffed.

Greg had enough and grabbed Jane's hand, pulling her away from the table. "She can give you the entire starting line-up if you like. Or would you prefer the American League standings?" He snapped his fingers, "I know. How about the team leader in RBI's?" he shot the man a scowl.

Jane snatched her purse from the table and stuck her tongue out at him as her boyfriend saved her from his over-inflated ego.

They walked closely together, his arm around her hip. Her hand slipped into the back pocket of his khaki cargo shorts. Jane gave his butt a little squeeze as they walked past multiple vendors on the concourse.

"Guess the number of balls to win a seven day cruise!" a frenetic woman shouted next to a transparent box stuffed with baseballs. People crowded around it, lazily scribbling their guesses and personal information onto slips of paper.

"Made that mistake before," Greg reminisced.

"God, I know. They wouldn't stop calling us for a month," she concurred. "Want to get a dog and a beer?"

"Fuck yeah I do! I made sure to have a light lunch," he said, gently tapping his modest beer belly.

Jane laughed as they got in line, tossing her ponytail and the red and blue ribbons dangling in her blonde locks, "Oh, I know how you love your meat. Too bad they don't have foot-longs here."

"I got that in my pants, baby," he mocked himself.

She smiled, "Maybe not a foot-long, but more than enough meat to stretch my tight cunt," she whispered in his ear with a nibble of his lobe.

Greg blushed and shook it off, stepping up to order two hot dogs, two Bud Lights and a bag of peanuts. Jane nonchalantly rubbed her breasts into his upper arm as they waited.

She stuffed the peanuts into her purse and held her dog and beer in her hands. They stepped over to the condiment station. Greg covered his hot dog in mustard and Jane playfully grimaced, keeping hers plain.

The pair strolled to the tunnel, reading the section numbers on the way. Jane noticed a family restroom with a door and made a mental note with a sly smile as they headed to their seats.

Jane stepped in front of her boyfriend before they headed down stubby stairs to their seats, first base side, behind the home dugout. She was an expert in heels, carefully stepping down the concrete steps to the fifth row. Each step drew lecherous and envious eyes to her toned legs.

"Excuse me," Jane said sweetly, asking her row for walking space, an obstacle course of fresh peanut shells ahead of her.

The fans got an eyeful of thigh and ass as she wedged herself into the row, squeezing between the back of the chairs and peoples knees. Greg followed close behind her trying not to spill his beer as men paid him no attention, following his woman with their gaze.

"She's all legs, damn, I'd love to have those wrapped around me," an older pervish man said.

Greg gave him a smirk and said, "Those are for me."

The older man's friends chided him as he sunk back into his seat, shamefaced.

Jane sat down, the back of her thighs on the dark green plastic-like seat. She crossed her legs to her right, towards her sweetheart, brushing her shoe on the back of his calf. She casually took a drink of her beer before slipping the souvenir cup into its angled cup holder.

Greg sat back, enjoying his cold beer, "I'll never get tired of how pretty this ballpark is. But it's not beautiful like you." Jane coyly blushed.

The ground crew raked the dirt on the diamond and people filled the stadium gradually. Jane spread a napkin on top of her tanned thighs, Greg already chowing down on his hot dog.

She looked over at him, her green eyes sparkling, "Greg, honey?"

"Mmhmm?" he said while chewing. He swallowed, then spoke, "What is baby?"

"You're going to fuck me in the restroom later," she said with confidence as he took another bite of his hotdog.

Greg almost choked and mustard leaked off the bun, staining his dark blue Rangers shirt. He cleared his throat and brought his chocolate brown eyes to hers, "What?"

She took a bite of her dog, taking her time before she spoke again, letting her words sink in. "You heard me. You," she said, pointing her hot dog at him, "are going to fuck me," she continued, both hands back towards her, "in the restroom," she finished, her hot dog hand pointed back towards the concourse.

He finished his hot dog, trying to wrap his mind about what she said. Then wiped his shirt clean of mustard. "Was she serious? How the hell is that going to work? I want to watch the game. I mean, maybe if there is a blowout. No, no, not happening," he thought as he scratched his hand through the two-day scruff on his face. She continued eating silently, taking in the sights and sounds of the pre-game rituals.

They stood for the "Star Spangled Banner." Greg took off his ball cap and shook his short and shaggy brown hair. Jane took her hand off her heart half way through the song and gave his ass a rough squeeze. She then pulled her hand back to her heart, playing like she hadn't done anything. Greg's eyes narrowed and darted to the left. Jane's were fixed skywards.

The pair sat back down with the crowd, Jane wiped her hands then daintily blotted the mustard off of the corner of Greg's mouth. A raucous ovation rose up from the spectators as the number one starting pitcher ran out to the mound.

Jane kept her sly smile painted on her lips as she twirled the dangling red and blue ribbons on her finger, her elbow resting on the arm rest. She looked over at Greg, "Honey, I'm serious."

Greg swallowed hard and kept his attention on the field, watching the pitcher throw his warm up pitches. He nodded, still caught off guard, "I know you are. But you know me, I don't like public stuff."

She smiled and draped her hand softly against his inner thigh, "I know, but its not public it will be in the restroom," she said sweetly.

The game officially started with a first pitch strike. Greg looked at her and sighed, "Jane, that's still very public. There's going to be plenty of people in the restroom."

"Not in the family restroom. It has a door and a lock," she said coolly, taking a sip of beer.

The top of the first passed quickly, the pitcher getting the first three batters in order. They changed the subject from sex to the Ranger's playoff chances. Jane's hand slowly made it's way further up his thigh just under his crotch. She rubbed harder and cupped his balls, "Don't you like your chances right now?"

"Jane stop that, there's kids around," he said in a hushed tone with gritted teeth, though his cock stirred under her touch.

She slid her hand back down to his knee and rolled her eyes. "You're no fun," she pouted.

The man sitting on Jane's left looked over at her more than occasionally. He appreciated her crossed legs and the way "Texas," in its dark blue font across her chest, rose and fell just enough as she breathed. His wife mashed her foot atop of his to regain his attention.

During the bottom of the second inning Jane rested her head on her boyfriend's shoulder. Greg patted her soft knee and smiled as he finished his beer, "Do you want to save the cups?"

"Of course," she finished hers and stacked it into his cup then placed them under her chair and grabbed her purse. "I need some more beer. Shall we?"

The couple got up, hand in hand, and walked back up the stairs to the nearest concession stand. They passed by the restroom and Jane smiled, "See, a family restroom. They have locks so moms can bring all their kids in there at once."

"That is so sexy. My god," he said, rolling his eyes, his voice bellowing out of control. He knew he wasn't going to get out of this easily. Greg got two more Bud Lights from the woman behind the counter before they headed back to their seats.

Jane gave his ass a firm slap in front of a security guard before heading back down the stairs, "I am so not kidding about this Greg."

He gave her bum an equal strength slap and shook his head. As they sat back down he whispered to her, "It's my cock, you can't just have it whenever you want it."

Jane raised an eyebrow sipping her cold brew, "Is that so?" she asked behind the rim of the plastic cup.

"I'm not just a piece of meat to use when you please," Greg said, placing his beer in the cup holder. He leaned back and stretched his arm around her shoulder bringing her body close to his.

Jane nuzzled into him and rested her beer on her thigh. She pursed her lips, "But I love your meat and I want it now," she said as a bat gave that knowing crack and a home run was shot straight to right field. She put her beer in the cup holder and they both stood to cheer as the Rangers took the lead 2-0.

Jane had leaned back into her boyfriend's shoulder after the cheering has died down, fading to a buzzing crowd. Her hand rested on his knee and nudged under his shorts.

"You're not going to let this go are you?" he asked as the next batter swung at the first pitch and grounded out.

She shook her head, her ponytail fluttering behind her, "Nope," and rubbed the top of her foot on the back of his calf.

Greg squeezed her closer and kissed her jaw. "Jane, we came to watch a game; not to fuck," he hushed into her ear.

"Who said?" she questioned with a familiar unethical smile. Her hand slipping further up his thigh, pushing up his cargo shorts.

"No one, I guess. But it's illegal. What if we get caught?" Greg stammered. His cock was totally for the idea of running into the restroom and getting enveloped by Jane's perfectly soft and tight cunt walls.

"Who said we are going to get caught?" Jane asked, raising a golden brow into a devious arch, her hand creeping further up. She leaned forward to get the peanuts out from under her chair. Her hand slipped under his boxer briefs and her fingers smoothly found his fuzzy balls and gave them a light scratch and a squeeze. Her fingers trailed over his hardening organ and teased it, as she stayed bent over.

Greg turned flushed then pale. His loins ached for her, but his mind kept telling his hormones to calm down.

Jane's hand slipped out as she arched her back and rested in her seat. She opened the peanuts and offered him some.

Together, they continued watching the game, munching on peanuts and cracking shells at their feet. The subject turned back to baseball and Greg calmed down, his erection easing back to flaccid under his shorts.

The score was tied 2-2 when the bottom of the fifth approached. Suddenly Jane stood up, slung her purse over her shoulder and held out her hand for Greg. "Come on," she said in a sultry, come hither dear, tone.

Greg looked into his empty beer cup and mustered up the courage to take her hand. He glanced up her form to her needy eyes and nodded. He took her soft hand in his and rose out his seat, heart pounding in his chest.

Jane led him up the stairs and through the tunnel with determination. Her heels stomped on the concrete heading straight for the family restroom. She swiftly turned the corner and Greg felt like he was being dragged to certain doom.

She let go of his hand and smiled the most innocent smile he had seen all evening. She leaned to his ear, "Come in thirty seconds after me," her voice purred and her plump lips brushed his cartilage.

Greg nodded, feigning conviction as she stepped away. He felt his limbs turn to jell-o and his heart beat faster as his eyes wildly paced around, looking at the crowds of people. He wondered if anyone knew what he was about to get himself into.

Jane opened the door and peeked inside then turned to Greg and gave him a wink before slipping inside.

Greg took deep breaths, counting to thirty. His eyes drifted from the restroom door back to people passing by. He rubbed his clammy palms on his shorts, feeling nauseous. "Twenty nine, thirty. Ready or not here I come," he whispered to himself as he opened the door and stepped inside.

Jane suddenly grabbed the collar of his shirt the moment he was half way in. She pushed him up against the door and locked it. He saw the fire in her eyes, the lust boiled over. He panted in fear that the wanton slut that resided inside his girlfriend was about to be released.

She pressed her lips to his, hard, sloppily kissing him. Greg's mouth was invaded by her tongue, her sweet soft tongue that gave him so much oral pleasure. Her tongue slithered in his mouth, over his teeth and tongue with raw need. Jane pushed her hips into his groin, grinding against him as she assaulted his mouth. They breathed air from each other's lungs, feeding on their desires.

Greg reached his hand to her ass, pulling her even closer. He lifted her skirt over her creamy rear, her skin a clash of color behind her bikini tan lines. His large hand squeezed her flesh as his cock stirred to life again against his shorts.

Jane wedged her hand between their bodies and hastily undid his fly. Her breathing was heavy, her tight jersey shirt straining with each breath. His shorts fell to a heap around his ankles, leaving his erection framed in confinement behind his black cotton boxer briefs.

Their tongues fought for control as they undressed their necessary parts. Greg pulled her hot pink thong silk thong, with white embroidered flower accents, over one ass cheek. Jane lifted and wrapped her endless leg around him. He slid his hand down the crack of her ass and nudged his fingers against her damp, depraved sex.

Jane moaned in his mouth as his fingers circled her hole. She crammed her hand into the waist of his boxer briefs, quickly wrapping her fist around his organ. She moved slightly to the side, grinding into her man and began stroking him, wrist deep in his underwear. His cock gained strength under her care, snagging against the leg of his garment.

He probed his fingers into her dripping orrafice as his other hand fought the buttons of her jersey. It fell open, the white cotton parted between the "E" and "X" of Texas. He wedged the square cups of her hot pink bra down under her perky tits so it held her breasts like a shelf. Greg greedily cupped his palm over a pale pink nipple, accented by the ivory flesh hidden by her bikini lines. He groped her flesh with his fingertips resting on her chest; his hand capturing her humble tit.

Jane sighed happily as she pulled her mouth away from his. She blinked her green eyes open before dropping into a squat, pulling his boxer briefs down as she descended. His lover settled down in front of his cock, her denim skirt scrunched over her hips, feet in her blue heels, her knees coming up just above her bottom ribs. Her legs were spread wide open, a tart in heat.

Greg wrapped his hand in her long blonde ponytail and pulled her face into his crotch. Jane parted her lips, holding onto his thighs for balance. She took his throbbing cock into her mouth, moaning as the engorged head collided with her tongue. Her eyes looked up as she bobbed her pretty face on his erection, smearing her saliva on his flesh. Her soft, wet tongue snaked around his pole, the head of his cock nudging against the entrance to her throat.

Greg dropped his head back against the door and let out a low groan of satisfaction as his girlfriend serviced him. He idly held her hair, her silky locks rumpled in his hand. He brought his other hand, soiled with her nectar to his mouth, licking his fingers. She pumped her mouth on him, pushing down further until his cockhead squeezed into her tight throat.

He emitted a husky gasp as her nose pushed against his lower abdomen, "Fuck, Jane."

Jane batted her eyelashes and strings of spit dribbled out of her hungry mouth. Her throat clamped around his organ as she fed, moaning around his hot, hard flesh. She moved her hand to her pussy, smooth and freshly shaven, and rubbed her fingers against her slit as her tongue wiggled inside her slurping mouth.

She pulled her mouth back and spit her spittle onto his red and swollen shaft, then licked her lips as she circled her clit with her fingertips. She kept a firm hold on his thigh as she stuck her tongue out and ran it up and down the sides and underneath his length. "Fuck me Greg. Fucking fuck me like a whore. I need it so badly," she begged between laps, "I'm leaking."

12
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