My first posted story — please critique and comment. All characters are 18+
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No one wears yellow. I’m not talking the muted cream yellow that brings out a nice tan, but bright yellow like the stripe on the highway. I wish more people did to remind me of this time growing up. I spent all my years in a small mountain town in the middle of Colorado’s Rocky Mountains. In the mid 1980’s, we didn’t have a movie theater, a mall, or even a big name grocery store, but we did host girl’s softball. The summer evenings were punctuated by the sound of a bat on a ball under the daylight bright mercury lamps lighting the diamond fields. Teams traveled from every corner of the U.S. to come and play in the altitude of our little town. It was nice growing up and having the pleasure of watching these shapely athletic girls play their game. High school discussions were held by the guys around the idea of what it would be like to see the team locker room. With nothing better to do than go fishing, my friends and I attended quite a few softball games to check out the players and cheer and whistle for the pretty ones.
My interest in girls was high, but every female in my class was someone I had known since kindergarten. We were all more like sister and brother than anything romantic. After graduation, I was 19, looking a college career in the face and had summer to spend down by the river, wading and fishing until I took off for school. I had said goodbyes to many of my friends who started commuting down the valley to work in the condos and restaurants of the rich and famous, so I ran alone most days enjoying my growing up memories.
One blue skied morning I headed off with my fishing pole across an old sandlot ball diamond to a spillway pipe that led to the creek that runs through town. There was a girl’s 18-20 year old tournament in town and every open piece of public land had an RV parked in it. I walked past a team of ball players sporting bright yellow jerseys and gray pants. They were emblazoned across the breasts “The Lady Jazz” in calligraphic black letters. I didn’t pay too close attention to the ladies, but noticed most were easy to look at. Tight butts in tight pants. Having little experience with women and having fishing on the mind, I walked past the team warm up session and entered the concrete pipe that led through the bank to the river. I had walked this route to gain access to the river since I proved to my Mom I could swim when I was seven. The pipe was six feet in diameter and opened into the sandlot as a flood diversion structure. The other end of the pipe opened to the river and if the water rose to the mouth of the pipe, it would flow into the sandlot and fill the holding pond until the river receded. Upon going down, the water would then reverse course and flow back into the river. I only saw it work once in my 19 years and the downtown still flooded that day, but it gave easy access to some of the greatest fishing holes I have ever seen. I entered the pipe and walked the 70 feet to the other side where the sound of the river was rich and inviting. I took my time in the cool air of the spillway and came to the bars that guarded the exit and was ready to squeeze through when I heard voices coming from the entrance of the pipe.
“Go on ahead, I have to pee, or I am going to leak all the way back!” came a singsong voice with a rich southern accent. Two giggling girls walked by the entrance of the spillway and a third turned into the mouth of the pipe. She walked a good distance into the pipe, cleats chattering on the concrete, and stopped to let her eyes adjust to the dim environment. I was frozen in place until I put down my fishing rod and walked back towards the center of the spillway. What caused me to go back in, I will never know but the girl at the front of the pipe heard my footsteps.
“I didn’t know this was occupied. What are you doing in here?”
“I was just walking through to go fishing in the river. Are you lost?” I asked, pretending I didn’t hear the conversation at the mouth of the pipe.
“Do you live here? Are you a local?”
“I am.” I replied. “I grew up here.”
“Good. Maybe you can tell me where the darkest part of this pipe is so a girl can take a pee.” She sang with her accent while dancing in place just a bit like a little kid who really must go.
“I suppose here in the middle at the curve in the pipe.” I replied. “I’ll head out the other side.”
“Into the river?” came her concerned response. “Just stay put and I’ll get done with what I came for.” She set down her bat bag, kicked off her cleats, slopped out of her socks, and quick walked towards me into the middle of the concrete tube. Leaning against the curved wall, in a single motion she pulled her sliding pants to her knees, squatted, and started to relieve herself.
“Guard that end of the pipe!” she commanded in a loud whisper. I watched interested as the puddle beneath her grew in size and then noticed she was watching me staring at her hip. My eyes looked up to meet hers.
“No one will come through here.” I assured her knowing it was true.
“What’s your name, Local?” she cooed and her accent echoed in the pipe.
“Dan.” I replied.
“Keep talking. It will take a minute to drip dry.” She said. I reached into my pocket and removed a camouflage handkerchief I carried everywhere I went.
“I’ve carried this and a cigarette lighter around since fourth grade. It’s soft . . . and clean.” I stammered. I walked closer to her noticing her naked hip and not sure of what to do or say when she smiled and reached out for the cloth.
“It won’t be clean when I’m done.” She giggled and took the handkerchief to dry herself. I looked away during the time she had to open her knees to gain access to use the handkerchief. My eyes moved to the toes of her feet, painted red, as she got redressed. I couldn’t bring myself to view her any higher in the state she was in, not wanting to press my advantage. She noticed my eyes now looking at the concrete floor. She walked a few steps away from her mud puddle and stopped beside me. We walked a few steps farther into the pipe.
“Am I not your type, Local? Or are you just not good at talking to girls? Embarrassed you saw my hip? But, I didn’t see you looking any higher.” I felt my ears get hot and knew I was noticeably red in the face even in the dim light.
“Sorry Dan. That was a bit mean on my part. Too much too fast. You’ve told me some about you; what do you want to know about me?” My eyes came off her red toes to her hand holding out the camo cloth.
I mumbled “Sometimes too much the gentleman. Where are you from?” as I took the cloth from her long-fingered hand.
“I’m a Georgia peach.” Came the quick response. “Can’t you tell from my voice? My Mamma’s got it even worse. ‘Turns the fellas on.’ she always said. Do you like it?”
“Oh my god! I could talk to you all afternoon!” I blurted like a kid.
“What else?” she prompted. “My girlfriends are going to be real interested in knowing I had a conversation with someone who grew up in this town.”
“What’s your name?” I asked. She turned and lifted her blonde ponytail to show me the back of her yellow jersey where the name ‘Bowman’ was stenciled above the number 30.
“Miss Bowman it is cute how you pull your ponytail through the back of your hat.” I tried to make some conversation with this stranger all the while thinking why is she talking with someone like me?
“You are not real skilled in picking up women, are you Dan? Here’s the scoop about me. My home in the summer is a thirty four foot RV that holds me and my parents. They drive me all over the God forsaken nation to play softball so that I can maintain a scholarship and go to college cheap. There they want me to play more softball. I hate softball and only want to stay home in the air conditioning and drink Coke and hang out with my boyfriend. I want to be a teacher. I would love to attend school in a place like this where people care about the shit that goes on around them and not about a stupid game that means nothing if you win or lose!”
“Well why don’t you just quit? Do what you want?” I asked.
“Damn Local, you are naïve. Quitting gets nothing done and I would rather be here talking to you than doing nothing, life passing me by. Double standard I’m sure is what you’re thinking, but you know women. Right?”
“Sure!” I replied much too enthusiastically with my hands up.
Looking through squinted eyes of disbelief she said, “Can I ask you something?”
Looking quizzical I replied, “Uh, sure but …”
She cut off my response, “You obviously don’t have a sister. Have you ever seen a girl’s skin? In real life? Like my hip just now? Because you are acting rather goofy.”
“What? Well yeah, um, kind of.” I stammered totally caught off guard. She laughed and continued to laugh as I went into a story about swimming in a deep bend in the river just upstream from where we were, with a friend named Kelsey. “We met in kindergarten and we grew up together. While swimming she started flirtatiously splashing me and trying to push my head underwater and she lost her swimsuit top in the scuffle. She had nice breasts and didn’t hurry to get redressed when I fetched her top. She refused to get dressed before I touched her. She felt nice…soft and warm. I think she untied herself and wanted more from me, but she is more like a sister than a love interest. Sorry, that was a really long answer to say I have seen a real girl naked; from the waist up that is.”
“I really like you Dan. You are genuine to a fault. Listen, I hate my life of softball and perpetual camping. I need to have a good time occasionally. It is a necessity for us southern redheaded belles to enjoy ourselves. Can you help me today to have a good time?”
I nodded enthusiastically thinking of the pizza joint downtown and maybe driving up to one of the summer running ski lifts. I started voicing my pizza plan when she interrupted me and cooed,
“I hope you will let me help you, too. You are genuine and naïve! Show me a Colorado mountain town local good time!” Her hands went to the waistband of her gray sliding pants and she started to slide them down her legs. She turned her back to me and wiggled her gray pants down. Her lower back came into view and soon I could see the toned muscles of her butt. As she slid her pants off for the second time in my presence, this time much closer to me, I noticed how shapely her body was. Her cute butt was completely uncovered while she worked her tight pants lower on her legs. I could feel the quizzical look on my face, my mouth gaping open, and wondering where this was going as I questioned,
“No underwear?” my voice catching in my throat and sounding like a hoarse whisper.
Matter of factly she said, “Dan, I play catcher. At any given game there are 70 people in the spectator section behind the plate. They are all staring at my ass. No self-respecting girl is going to have a panty line showing in that situation.” Slightly out of breath at wiggling her pants to her ankles, she turned to show me her ass, tanned high on the hips and cream light skin to the middle. Dancing a quick bit, she turned to the side as she bent forward to remove the pants from her calves and ankles. Turning to face me and tossing the pants farther down the pipe she said,
“There! Now you have seen a girl naked from the waist down.” My gaze started at her red painted toenails and made the seemingly unending journey up her long tan legs. When my eyes finally reached the point where her legs met together I noticed just a bit of fuzz and a pink flower that showed amongst the cream color of her skin. Instantly I could tell the type of swimsuit she preferred because of the creamy skin where her tan line ended. She turned to face away showing me her heart shaped butt again, tan all the way to the top of the mounds. She was watching my reaction from over her shoulder.
“Well, are you just looking, or do you want to touch?” Not believing this could possibly be happening, I put out one rough hand and cupped her tight butt lightly in my palm. I brought my hand back as I felt an urge to give a gentle pinch to her supple flesh. Her skin was so soft, I was instantly aware of my rough and calloused hands and the bulge in my jeans that was getting tighter. Her hands went to the buttons on her jersey and she began working them loose from the bottom to the top. She wore a gray heather bra underneath that I was catching glimpses of as she worked her buttons and kept turning to give me different angles as more skin came into view.
“Touch my belly! I dare you! It’s probably harder than yours.” I touched the skin there and agreed it was hard but so amazingly smooth. I moved my hands into my pockets to somewhat hide the tent effect going on in my jeans and asked,
“Do you do this often?”
“Don’t say stupid things, Dan.” She rolled her eyes up into her head and said, “I am not a slut, I have a boyfriend.” Her blue eyes on mine she explained, “I just feel like I can show you a thing or two from outside these mountains. I don’t know if it is the altitude or that I’m feeling a bit horny but I showed you my bottoms and I have this desire to be the girl to put the tops and bottoms together for you.” I must have looked confused with my head turned to the side in misunderstanding. She giggled and whispered as if telling an inside joke, her hands cupped around her mouth,
“A girl naked. I want you to see tops and bottoms. Together. From me, a Georgia peach!” Her hands gestured over her bra and naked thighs as she slid her arms out of her jersey. She tossed off her hat pulling the red blonde ponytail through the strap in the back. The clothes made an untidy pile in the pipe as this southern goddess raised her arms above her head, turned, and whispered,
“Undo me please before I change my mind.” My eyes swept again from her feet to her great butt. My fingers clumsily unfastened the clips of her bra. Hook and eye closures were a new thing to me and it almost surprised me when it opened. The elastic released its stretch and the band hung free. She slid the straps off her shoulders and into the pile of garments went her last piece of clothing.
“Well?” she demanded, turning. “Are mine nicer than Kelsey’s?” My eyes raked over her nudity from her ponytail and face, down her chest, to her belly and forbidden mound between her long legs. My eyes focusing again on her red toenails I breathed,
“You are amazing! Who’s Kelsey?” I said feeling my jeans getting very tight in the front. I was breathing rather hard. Her entire body was tan with faint freckles across her chest. She giggled at my joke and shifting her weight from one leg to the other made her breasts jiggle so slightly. They were not small but quite firm from her practiced throwing action and so the nipples turned up on the tips looking me in the eyes as I stared and took in this adorable sight. Her pink nipples stood out from the cream flesh of her breasts but were camouflaged within the freckles that graced her ample chest, shoulders, and pretty cheekbones. She stood naked in front of me, watching my reaction. Rolling her blue eyes she said,
“Really Local? You have no idea what to do with me? What did you say a bit ago? Too much the gentleman. Ahh, it is refreshing to be in a small town!” Her hands on her hips made her breasts stand firm at attention. They were tan where the sun had kissed the top and in between of her soft mounds but were creamy white in the shape of her triangle summer bikini top. The stark lines showed she spent some time at the pool. Her blue eyes twinkled and reflected my look for a moment when she seemed to communicate with her gaze and just a small tilt of her head for me to look down her body again. Taking her silent permission, my eyes drank in her nudity as I looked up and down her body. I wondered if she was chilled by the cool air in the pipe or if she was turned on to be on unashamed display, but her nipples were tight and stood out from the gentle rise of her round breasts. Pleasurable to behold in her proportion, everything fit together to form her body. Long legs led up to her flat, smooth belly, which rose to her curvy breasts. I was enjoying the sight and trying to figure out where this was going when our eyes met as she was taking out her red ponytail.
“I told you before, you can look all you want Local, I don’t mind. I feel safe in your small town. Although, I’m willing to do more!” she quipped, winking at me.
Realizing our only physical contact was me grabbing her ass for two seconds and tracing her belly, I argued formally,
“Miss Bowman, this is a bit fast for me and I’m trying to be a gentleman about this.” She took two steps forward, closing the gap between us. I could feel the warmth of her skin in the cool air of the pipe. Her accent intoxicated my thinking when she replied whispering in my ear and nibbling my earlobe,
“Okay. You are just too nice! Let me help.” She shook out her mane of red hair while her hands worked quickly on my shirt, belt, and pants. Stumbling out of my clothing I awkwardly stood before her, both of us naked. Her eyes took me in and she nodded her approval. I felt myself reddening in the face as my erection stood at attention. She dropped her look to it, then back into my eyes as she said,
“Okay. Since I’m driving this ship I have two conditions. One, are your hands clean?” I nodded afraid to speak because my voice might crack. She took my left hand and placed it on her breast. Then in a stern voice she stated,
“Two . . . you absolutely cannot cum inside me. Absolutely not!”
“O – Okay.” I stammered thinking this can’t be happening, my hand filled with her soft mound.
“Absolutely not! You don’t seem the type to carry a condom in your pocket. You sure?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never done this before.” I said with more purpose, not knowing what to expect next. She backed away from my hand on her chest and raised her pointer finger at me.
“I will be very upset if that happens!” her long index finger wagging in my direction.
“Look, take a seat right here and I will straddle your lap. I will get you inside and we can go from there. Hopefully, you last a bit to get this steamy feeling out of my body. I am really ready for a good release. Does this sound like a plan?” I swallowed hard and stood there slightly shivering in my turned-on state. She reached out again for my hand.
“Nice and slow, okay? You should have a good time for your first! I would be honored for you to have me as your first.” I nodded as I sank into a seated position on the silt covered concrete floor of the pipe.
“Questions or concerns?” she asked as my naked butt settled into the soft sand in the pipe. My voice unable to escape my body, I only shook my head no. She moved from her standing position in front of me where I was looking up at the freckles between her breasts and lowered down to me and hugged our naked bodies together. Her breasts pressed into my face while she gently lowered herself to the floor of the pipe and hovered just above me. Her smell was earthy and a bit like sandalwood. She leaned back a bit and my gaze went down to where, in disbelief, I watched as ‘Miss Bowman’ lowered her perfect body onto mine. The slight round of the floor of the pipe helped to align our bodies. Every contact was warm and soft and I tried to etch every feeling into my brain. Her spread legs reveled her womanhood to my sight, groomed close with just that bit of fuzz leading to her flowery center. My hands were on her knees and slowly moved up her thighs. She slid down my body, her breasts level with my eyes. She repositioned a couple of times to get us aligned, my member, harder than I could ever remember, aiming at her musky flower. I looked into her sparkling eyes when my erection finally touched her moist slit and I jumped at the sensation.
“Easy! It’s hard for me because I’m so damned turned on but I’ll go slow, no need to be scared of me.” Her breath was warm and sweet on my face as I felt myself glide into her tightness. She breathed into my neck,
“Dan, may I have your Colorado local virginity?” Without an answer, I locked eyes with her, and she gave a look of ecstasy as I slid in slowly bit by bit. I felt like I would never make it all the way in, it was so slow and then all at once with a little moisture from inside her, I slid into her waiting warmth. Gasping just a bit, she looked at me while holding me engulfed inside her.
“Don’t move!” her hoarse voice whispered. “Let’s run through your checklist for today. I am your bottoms girl, your tops and bottoms girl all at once, and now; what do you call this?”
“Damned amazing!” I breathed into her freckled shoulder.
“Okay. Do you feel okay? I am going to move a little. Try and hang in there for a bit and let me get myself off. I ‘m sure that you will remember me and this day forever, but your ‘Damned Amazing’ would like to remember you, too.” A coy smile followed her words.
“Tell me when you are close.”
Before she could make any movement, I sighed “I’m pretty close.” This prompted another eye roll.
“Local, you are hopeless.” She moved her hips in a small circle, her tight stomach rubbing against mine, her breasts pushing into my chest. My erection stirred and explored the muscular walls of her canal. I closed my eyes and breathed in with the feeling. She looked straight into my eyes and winked as she squeezed my shaft inside her. My breath caught in a gasp at the sensation. The fierce look returned to her blue eyes,
“Do not cum inside of me!” She softened her gaze and said,
“Do you understand? I don’t need that headache. I’m going to move a bit more and try to feel good myself. If you can’t handle it, tell me right away. Hang in there. I’m pretty ready for this so if I get feeling good I will stop and give you a little treat, okay?” I nodded thinking what more of a treat could there be as she started to slide up and down on my throbbing shaft. I looked down to our union and watched as our bodies came together and apart as I disappeared inside her repeatedly.
“You feel amazing! This might just work.” She said while starting to pant. Our sounds came back to us in echoes from the concrete pipe. More moisture produced from inside her made our skin glide together with each motion. Without words, she took my right hand and put my middle finger in her mouth. After running her tongue over it she took it out and lowered my hand to where our bodies met.
“We have a really good thing going! Think of something different for just a few more minutes. Make quick little circles with this finger right here!” Placing my finger on her clit with her saliva and teaching me how to massage her, she continued grinding on my lap. Her hand moved on top of mine as my wet finger slid over and around her lips. Less in and out and more grinding circles made her breath come more rapid and she started making small vocal whimpers showing her pleasure. I thought about the baseball game on TV last night. That made me think of softball and brought me right back to this reality. . . Fishing! I was going fishing, walking down the pipe to the river and here I am in the pipe, in the arms of this amazing ‘Lady Jazz’! The calming sound of the river washed over us, but her more persistent noises of pleasure filled my ears with an intoxicating echo from the walls of the pipe. I finally gave up thinking of other things and using my left hand, cupped her left breast, and went along for the ride. I watched her face as I ran my thumb over her pink nipple, my right hand circling about her slit, getting moist with her lubrication. Number 30 let out a soft moan and went a little faster on her thrusting. Her breathing quickened into gasps as I grabbed for the other breast.
“My nipples…” she said between breaths and I lowered my head to lick and suck her right nipple. Her chest heaved as my tongue circled her pink bud and I took it in my mouth.
“Oh God, yes!” she gasped. Circling her clit and sucking hard on her nipple, a whine escaped my throat as she started to toss her head back, her long hair touching my knees.
“Don’t stop now!” she growled.
“Oh Dan!” Her growling gave way to a pleading voice, “Please don’t cum in me! Please don’t cum at all! Please don’t stop!” My finger drawing the alphabet letter by letter over her moist clit and my other hand playing with her bouncing breasts while she bounced in my lap. Looking at me with her fierce eyes she said,
“If you stop now I will…” her words trailed off replaced by a long chest heaving sigh and then gasps of pleasure. Once, twice, three times and then so quickly that I lost count. I tried to keep my tongue in contact with her breast as she moaned and was able to lick a few circles around it as the grip of her pleasure lessened. She mercifully slowed her rhythm, grinding her pelvis deep onto mine, involuntarily gripping my shaft over and again. Her whole face gave me a beautiful look of pleasure. Eyes shut, her tunnel clenched and released my manhood still deep inside. My teeth grazed her nipple, and she shivered at the sensation. Her twinkly blue eyes opened as she came up off me and said,
“Oooh! Great job!” She took my hands clasped in hers and giggled drunkenly while she looked into my eyes. We sat still, although I was on the brink of out of control, so desiring to get back inside her when enthusiastically she said,
“Oh, I like Colorado and I like you! Are you ready for your treat?” As she rose, my erection pointed to her crevice and I felt so exposed outside of her body. I almost started to beg for her to return to our lovemaking position until I saw her kneel on all fours and point her gorgeous ass in my direction. Her lips were beautifully framed by her thighs. A bit of moisture, made from her slick produced by our first time together, glistened from her slit.
“Do you need me to tell you what to do?” she beckoned in her sing song voice as she swayed her hips to an unheard music. I needed no more prompting. I was up and situated behind her ignoring the hard concrete on my knees and prepared to enter her again from behind. She dodged to the right and then to the left each time I moved forward causing me great frustration at not finding my way home, but I loved the sight of her lips peeking from between her beautiful ass. She moved to the right at the same time I did, and I slid into her to the hilt of my erection. Frozen together for a moment, I barely breathed. Slowly I moved a few times into her until my thighs were against her ass. She looked over her shoulder and blue eyes twinkling moved forward so I slid out an inch or two. I quickly caught up and she leaned forward again. Her smile was wide as she taunted,
“Are you ready? This is one of my favorites!” She pushed back with a quick motion that caused a slap to echo down the pipe.
“Enjoy the view, but cum in me and you’re dead.” I played around with a few different angles and watched myself disappear inside her very slowly, drawing a moan from her throat; then to pull all the way out slick with her drippings. I tried a couple faster thrusts with just the head of my cock. My left hand reached forward and weighed her hanging breast. My fingers circled her nipple while I cupped the ample flesh to her chest. I adjusted my aim to the right and felt her tunnel graze along the side of my erection. The next slow thrust was to the left side. I was very much enjoying myself when with a groan of exasperation and pressing her hips hard back, taking me all inside, Miss Bowman looked over her shoulder and said,
“Local, you are a sweet guy and you will make someone a great husband one day, no doubt. Right now, don’t be a gentleman.”
“Fuck me.”
Blue eyes and freckles in command. No more slow and deliberate movements from me. I moved in and out watching my shaft disappear into her moist channel. Our motions started unsteady but soon we got into a rhythm and my hands held her waist while I thrust. Her breasts swayed beneath her with our motion and I cupped first one and then the other. They were soft and warm. My fingers found the hard protrusion of her nipple and I circled and pinched it releasing a gasp from deep in her chest. My other hand reached around her and found the magic place she showed me earlier and I started working her clit with my fingers. My finger dripped some of her clear fluid down the inside of her thigh. The tip of my erection grazed the top inside of her channel causing me to doubt my stamina. Our rhythm continued to build in speed and urgency. Our voices made small sounds that echoed through the pipe. I glanced down to my shaft glistening with her sex fluids. I went in and out; every motion a slick, warm ecstasy that affected my entire being. Pinching her left nipple, I felt a warmth building up inside of me that I knew was going to come out fast.
My thrusting pace reached a frenzy and each time I slid deep into her canal. Her breathing was becoming more rapid and her sounds a bit rowdier. On sliding out, taking every effort and bit of self-control I could muster, I exited her moist slit and gushed a stream of cum down her right thigh. I rocked back and forth as my first shared orgasm gripped at my body. Her hand reached my throbbing piece and milked me up and down. Through my heavy breathing I heard,
“If you could have given me three more, you might have gotten me off again!” the rich accent brought the concrete spillway back into focus. Her warm hand still wrapped my erection and she milked the last bits of my seed onto the concrete floor. She turned her body on her knees and sat back onto the wall of the pipe. Spreading her knees wide and using several of her long fingers, she deftly massaged her slit until her heavy breathing returned. With no modesty and wanting me to see her performance, her fingers worked in and around her flower and her breasts bounced with the exertion. I lowered my mouth to her nipple and rounded it a few times with my tongue. Her skin glistened with her exertion. She absolutely glowed in the low light. I sucked her nipple as she used my fingers to finish her second orgasm. The pipe echoed her heavy breathing as I massaged her breasts, my fingers glistening in the dim light. I whispered,
“Amazing! You are amazing!” Spent, she fell back against the wall of the pipe. With shaky legs I crawled over and sat in front of her. I bent and gently kissed her flower opening, licking from the bottom to the top and tasting her sweet musk. Miss Bowman’s legs shuddered at my tongue’s touch. I kissed at her again drawing a shiver from her body and crawled to the pile of clothes close by to fetch the camo handkerchief.
“Was I any good?” I asked as I leaned back in to her nakedness. “You were awesome! It wasn’t easy to not let fly inside of you.”
“Yes! Very well done!” she praised, using the camo cloth to wipe the back side of her leg. She continued to explain as she dried off her flower,
“I needed that release something fierce. If you could have lasted another fifteen seconds, I would have been off the ground! Really that was your first time?”
“I had a good teacher! Was I better than your boyfriend?” Silence. It came tumbling out of my mouth before I thought about it. Looking down from my eyes and stopping her praises she let the smile leave her pretty lips.
“Damn it Dan, I told you to not say stupid things.” She tossed the handkerchief into my chest and was suddenly standing.
“He and I have it . . . you know; figured out. You are probably a bit bigger and for sure better than he was on the first time, if that makes you feel better.”
It didn’t. She was getting dressed; those beautiful parts disappearing behind the yellow and gray uniform. She was buttoning her shirt without her bra on. All I could do in my orgasmic stupor was sit on the floor of the pipe and watch as this southern dream put herself away. I knew nothing more could be done or said so I mumbled,
“What’s your name?” She leaned down and kissed me hard on the lips letting me look down her half buttoned uniform. Pulling up her pants she gave me her fierce, fiery blue eyes and said determinedly,
“You remember me forever, okay?” She walked to her bat bag in the lighter end of the tunnel and looked back at me. Her blue eyes twinkled like they contained a star. As she slipped on her cleats and adjusted her uniform she reached down and pulled at something on her bat bag. When it came loose she smiled at me and said,
“Thanks, Local. Sorry I have to pursue my parent’s dream.” She dropped what she had in her hand.
“Dan, I had a good time in Colorado, and I hope you don’t feel like I used you. I know I was good, but you were just what I needed.” She blew a kiss down the pipe and took off at a jog. She left the tunnel and me, naked and spent. I clambered up and got dressed. I quickly walked to the end of the tunnel on shaky legs. Looking out under the gray storm clouds, I saw no one wearing yellow. I saw no one at all.
I walked in the direction of town, following my nose and what I thought was her perfume on the wind. All the teams had cleared the fields to weather the pending afternoon storm indoors. Defeated, I walked back through the spillway to retrieve my fishing pole in a cold, sprinkling rain when I kicked something on the floor of the pipe. Excitedly I bent down and scooped up the luggage tag from her bat bag. I fumbled with shaky hands to turn it over and read the card inside. It read,
“If lost, return this bag to ‘Bowman, Lady Jazz #30′”. I told the tag thank you, then cursed at it for its lack of information.
I spent the weekend walking the softball games looking for the Lady Jazz. I never did find the team, let alone Miss Bowman. I have never forgotten that adventure just as her fiery eyes told me not to. Our adventure lives in my memories to this day because no one wears yellow like my number 30.