I hope you enjoy this chapter. Sorry it took me longer than usual to post this chapter. I had originally planned this to be ONE long chapter, but it proved too bulky. So now you get TWO chapters at once! Hope you enjoy it. This also means that now there will be a total of at least 14 chapters when the series is completed. Maybe more!
DISCLAIMER: The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it is not allowed, depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.
The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.
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A Nerd in Jock's Clothing: Go, Team, Go!
By D. A. Mackey
Because I am, first and foremost, a nerd of the highest degree, and because my mother is also an educator, I approached the task of learning baseball in the only way I found logical: I watched the sport on TV surrounded by reference books I'd checked out from the public library. My mother found me, legal pad on my knees, furiously scribbling every thing I could think of as I watched ESPN for the first time in my life. She stood in the doorway, laundry basket wedged skillfully to her hip in stunned silence at first, mouth working but unable to really articulate the millions of questions she must have had.
"Who are you, and what have you done with my son, David?" She asked, startling me from the game.
Despite what people may say about baseball being a slow paced sport where little actually happens, I was finding my attention to the game brought up countless and unending avenues of exploration. I entered the task knowing little more than that several people swung at a ball with a bat and made their way counter-clockwise across four bases, so everything aside from those most basic of basic facts was new to me.
"Very funny, Mamma," I shot back in my best teenager impersonation. "I might as well tell you now, since you're gonna have to sign the release form anyways: I'm the new Varsity Baseball Team Manager."
The laundry basket crashed to the floor and my mamma busied herself with repacking it to cover her shock.
"Well, honey, you know your father and I support you in anything you want to do. Even that."
I made some grunt of approval in her general direction and continued my note taking. She regathered the laundry and made her way to leave. I heard her footsteps quickened as she left until she was nearly running towards the stairs and second floor laundry room.
"Siiiissssyyyy...," she shouted as she took to the stairs in what had to be two by two leaps, calling for my sister in the family nickname. "Sissy, where are you!"
I rolled my eyes and waited for what I knew was going to follow.
Surely as the night follows the day, a harsh bark of laughter soon hit my ears, my little sister apparently taking my mother's new gossip with every ounce of grace that I'd come to expect from my darkly inclined sibling. For a full minute, I heard the laughter echo from upstairs, hushed by my mother's all-too-late reprimands, which were also fully audible.
Let them laugh. I wasn't going to let them get me down. The idea of being the new team manager was exciting. First because it offered a new opportunity to learn something I never thought I would want to learn, and second because it meant I would be spending more time with Daniel. My mother and sister could cackle till the cows came home, I was getting the better end of this bargain by far.
The first Home Game found me tucked into a team uniform emblazoned with my first initial and last name across the back, complete with a patch above the school crest and the embroidered title of "Manager" in royal blue thread beneath it. The Coach had given me a pair of baseball pants which I now wore along with baseball cleats and knee high blue cotton socks with white stripes down the sides.
I felt like I was wearing a ridiculous costume, but my new teammates assured me that I looked the part.
I had to silently thank Daniel for his attempts at upping my physical fitness game. Hauling the many mesh bags full of bats and balls and various assorted gear that I had to haul from the gym storage room out to the baseball field would have killed me just a few short weeks ago. I now rather enjoyed the slight ache in my shoulders when I'd finished setting up the equipment and organized the dugout as instructed.
The innings passed by quickly for me and I kept track of the few stats that Coach had told me to run for him, as well as maintained the video camera feeds from the dugout and the two remote cameras set up on the lights behind the home plate. I couldn't help but think that the Theater Department could have greatly used just ONE recording device, while the Baseball team had two wireless, permanent, and waterproof cameras installed just to re-watch games and form after the fact. But decrying the unequal nature of athletic and artistic funding in the private school industrial complex is a fool's errand in most cases.
In no time, my first home game was over and the players, satisfied with a 4-2 win over the visiting team, all headed back to the gym complex to clean up and shower. I had to stay late and collect the scattered equipment back into the mesh bags and haul them back to the storage room.
Daniel approached me as I stuffed a few metal bats into a carrying case.
"So, nerd," he started, keeping an eye on the retreating backs of our departing teammates. "How was it the first time out?"
"Not too horrible," I shrugged. "Once you get over the stench of you all..." I wrinkled up my nose in mock admiration for his post game funk and was rewarded with his booming chuckle.
He stepped closer to me and leaned his head to mine so that his face hovered a few inches in front of my nose. I stopped my cleaning, my grip reflexively tightening on the slender phallic bat in my hand, wishing it was Daniel I held between my fingers.
"The uniform is doing it for me," he groped at the front of his tight white baseball pants, "you should keep them on until everyone leaves."
His hand traveled the outline of his growing cock as it expanded across his hip bone, entirely visible beneath the elastic fabrics. He shouldered his duffle bag and swung it in front of his body to hide his arousal.
"See you in the showers, Nerd," he shouted back over his shoulder as he walked from me to join the team.
His sculpted ass in the pants and his implied arousal with visual proof worked like a charm, as I'm quite sure Daniel intended. In seconds, I had the dugout cleaned and the equipment stored in bags. I had taken the bags individually back and forth before the game. Now, I shouldered everything that had taken me three trips, loaded myself down like a pack mule and nearly sprinted after Daniel towards the gym. It is amazing what adrenaline and the prospect of sex with a gorgeous man who wants you as much as you want him will make you capable of.
