Authors: Jj Rossum
West patted me on the back.
“We’re lucky to have found her when we did,” he said. “God knew we would need someone like her, and He brought her to us when we didn’t even know we were going to need her. Crazy stuff.”
He patted me on the shoulder again and walked away to his car, leaving me standing in the middle of the parking lot by myself, wondering what the hell I was going to do now.
I got into my car and pounded the steering wheel. My phone vibrated in my pocket. April.
I’m so excited!
We are officially coworkers! :-) Good thing Mr. West was there or I might have been so happy that I would have ended up kissing you.
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
You could always just end it by text
, I told myself.
You don’t have to do it in person.
But I did. I wasn’t twelve years old. Something in me told me I had to do it in person.
I drove quickly to the park, deciding to respond to April after I met Holly. I didn’t want to be distractedly wondering what her response would be while I was with Holly.
The park was closer to the school than it was to her house, and I assumed I had beaten her there. She would have called or sent a text asking where I was if she had already been there.
The park entrance was on the main road, but once you drove through the gates, the park road began to wind way back into the moss-covered trees. Signs were everywhere to remind you of the wildlife you would be seeing, and reminding you not to run into the animals by driving too quickly. There were even a few signs informing park visitors not to molest alligators. Only in Florida would someone molest an alligator.
The main road had different side roads you could take that would lead you to different areas of the park, like the playground area, the picnic area, and then to the spots near the water. I had a spot I always liked to go to that was off the last side road. I turned and drove as close to the edge of the water as I could.
People often came to this spot with their small canoes and rafts and could push off right from the shore. But no one was there in the middle of the afternoon, and I sat in the shade of the tree branches that waved overhead. It really was a beautiful spot, and there was a picnic bench a few feet away where you could sit and watch the water while eating.
I got out of my car and stretched and looked around. Normally there would be a car or two, but the park was deserted except for my Roller Skate.
My phone began to ring, and I answered it.
“Where am I going?” she said. “I don’t even think I have ever been to this park.”
“Yes, you have,” I replied. “We have come here a few times. Just follow the main road, and when you get to the last side road, turn in. You’ll see a sign that says ‘ramp access’, and that’s when you’ll know to turn.”
“Okay. Sounds easy enough. But why are w—”
I hung up on her mid-sentence.
There was a decent breeze to go along with the cloud cover, which was probably what was keeping people away from the park today. The threat of torrential downpour had that effect on people.
I checked the time on my phone as I heard Holly’s car driving toward me. It was six minutes after four.
She parked next to me and got out of her car with a mildly puzzled look on her face. She usually always wore black skirts when she went to work, and today was no exception. She had on a black tank top to go with it, her breasts pushed up. She would be getting lots of tips tonight. She wasn’t dressed slutty by any means, though. She had a way of making anything look classy, and yet very dirty and sexy at the same time.
“What the hell are we doing here, Luke?” she said as she walked toward me.
As soon as she was within reach, I grabbed her waist and pushed her against my car. I kissed her hard against the passenger door, our lips mashing together in a frenzy. She was taken aback at first. I could feel the surprise in her lips, the quick tension in her body as if on reflex. But it was gone as quickly as it came, and she was returning my kiss with force.
When I felt the shift in her intensity, I immediately broke off the kiss.
“What the fuck...” she said, out of breath. Her mouth was slightly open and her eyes were wide.
I grabbed her waist again, and this time spun her around so she was facing the picnic table that was next to my car. Her hands grabbed the edge as I pulled up her skirt and pulled her panties down to her knees. They were the same ones I had seen in the picture, and even though I was already hard, seeing them somehow seemed to make me harder.
With one hand I stuck my finger inside of her from behind, and I wasn’t surprised to find her soaked. No one got wet like Holly did. My other hand quickly undid my belt and had the zipper down in a flash. I pushed the boxers down and pulled my dick out. I slid a second finger into her and rotated them until she moaned, and then replaced the fingers with my cock.
“Fuck,” she said loudly as I squeezed into her. She was very tight, so my first few thrusts were slow, working my way in as far as I could go before slowly pulling back.
“Oh my god,” she said. I could feel her get wetter around my dick. I kissed the back of her neck.
After a minute or so, I could feel her begin to loosen up, and the thrusting picked up in speed. My hands were on either side of her hips, and her arms were folded on the table in front of her, her head turned to the left and resting on her arm.
I grabbed her tightly and pushed harder, our bodies smacking loudly together, my balls slapping into her with every thrust .
I’m a guy. I love sex. But I usually liked long sexual sessions. Rarely would I go five minutes, or ten. Or even twenty. A normal go usually lasted at least an hour, incorporating lots of different angles and positions. But, as much as I liked the extended fucking, sometimes you just need a quick, hard, sweaty fuck. It was primal. And it was good.
If anyone had driven by, they would have probably assumed I was some local schmuck, fucking a hooker in the park so my wife wouldn’t find out. But Holly and I had always liked finding new places to have sex, and this had always been a place on my list to try.
“Harder,” she said, over and over. I pulled her hair back with one hand and reached around to feel her breasts.
I fucked her for a few more minutes before I started to pull out. I didn’t want her to have to deal with the aftermath while trying to work at a bar.
“Don’t,” she said, reaching a hand back to stop me. “Don’t you dare.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“You know where I like you to come.”
I rocked into her, burying my face into the back of her neck. Once...twice...I shuddered.
She turned around, wide-eyed, rocking the sex hair like no one else could. Her hands reached down and pulled her new panties back up. Then, she crouched down and took the tip of my dick into her mouth, and cleaned me off like she always did. The first time she did it I couldn’t believe it. I was even a little taken aback. But, it was something I loved and looked forward to just about every time. There was just something about it. Intimate.
When she was done, she stood up and leaned back against the table.
“Holy fuckballs,” she said. “What the hell was that?”
I stood with my feet outside hers and leaned forward, kissing her on both sides of her face.
“Are you complaining?”
“Did it sound like I was?”
“Well, don’t act surprised. Your pictures today got my mind going. I couldn’t shut it down.”
“And so, you decided that you were going to fuck me outside in a park while I was on my way to work?”
“Basically, yeah,” I said smiling. “At least I was considerate enough to pick a park that was on your route to the bar.”
“Such a thoughtful fuck you are,” she said, playfully slapping my face. “Your mother would be proud.”
“Are you still going to come over when you are done at the bar?”
“Fuck yes. You don’t get to come and then call it a day. You have to finish me off later. More than once for getting me all sweaty in my work clothes.”
“I think I can handle that.” I grinned at her.
“Good. And I need to get to work now,” she said, pushing me away from her and slowly walking to the driver’s side of her car. “Fuck you. If I am sore all night, I’m kicking your ass later.”
“Don’t cuss out your customers,” I said as she got into her car.
She had a mouth on her and was usually not one to mess with. Occasionally a customer would get lippy with her, or start making very crude comments, and she would have no trouble telling that person where they could stick their bottle of beer, and all the different ways they could go about using the bottle on themselves. The customers would sometimes complain, but everyone who worked with Holly, loved her. Sometimes, she would get embarrassed by how she reacted. She would rarely admit to it, but I knew it was true, So, I liked to give her a hard time about it every once and a while.
She started the car and reversed back onto the road. She rolled her window down as she put her car in drive and smiled before pulling off.
I drove home and showered. The baseball game started at seven, so I didn’t have to rush, but I couldn’t waste much time either. The stadium was about a twenty-minute drive away, but then I would have to find parking, stand in line at the gate waiting for them to scan my ticket, and then work my way through the crowd to my seat. I knew from the tickets that my seat was probably somewhere in the outfield section. I felt bad letting the other ticket go to waste, but there wasn’t really anyone I wanted to spend my evening sitting next to.
I put on a pair of white shorts and one of my navy blue Rays’ shirts. I wasn’t really a fan, but you couldn’t live in the area and go to games without at least pretending to root, root, root for the home team. Although, it really wouldn’t be a shame if they lost. They had gotten good at it.
The drive was short, because being a local meant I had figured out the fastest way to the stadium that wasn’t the main route. Parking was ten bucks, or free if I parked way down in the neighborhoods where I wasn’t likely to return to much of a car. So, I had no problem shelling out a few bucks to keep the Roller Skate in business for a few more days.
Once inside the stadium, I worked my way through the crowd to the only concession stand I ever visited. It was called Carlo’s Cafe, and the nicest Cuban couple I had ever met owned it. They would always serve me an extra large bowl of black beans and rice, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t often gone back in the sixth or seventh inning for seconds. I wanted to order a beer, but knew that if anyone from the school saw me, I would be ratted out. So, I settled on a Pepsi in a ridiculously priced plastic souvenir cup with the schedule of the Rays on it. I wanted to take out a big red marker and put a big fat L over all the games they had lost, but that would take too long and my hand would get tired.
I took my dinner and found my seats in the lower right field section of the stadium. I was surprised to find that they were actually on the third row from the front, and right on the aisle. So, with my two tickets I could take the aisle seat and not have to worry about someone sitting to my right. I was glad to be sitting there because it was close enough to the Rays bullpen, so I was sure to be able to keep my eye on Marco while he was there.
I spotted him in the outfield grass, playing catch with a pitcher I didn’t immediately recognize. I was sure I had probably seen Marco play before, somewhere, at some point in his career. But, if I had, I obviously hadn’t had a reason to pay much attention to him at the time. Looking at him relatively up close now, my first reaction was that he seemed smaller in real life than I expected him to be. He was listed as 5’11 and 200 pounds, but I would have guessed the listing was a little high on the height and a little low on the weight. He had certainly filled out over the years, but he still had the handsome, youthful face that most Latin men seemed to have.
I sat in my seat, waiting for the game to start. I knew it would be a while before Marco would be called on to pitch, if he got called on at all. I was hopeful.
The stadium was not even halfway full when a local high school choir sang the National Anthem. People were still filing in, but I knew the crowd would be small. For as long as I could remember, the Rays were the laughingstock of the nation when it came to fan attendance. They had been the laughingstock in terms of their performance for a long time too, but even when the team started to get better, people wouldn’t come to the games. No one could ever figure out why, but I was pretty sure it had a lot to do with the stadium, Tropicana Field, which was without a doubt the worst place to watch a baseball game in the country. It looked like a tuna fish can from the outside, and felt like being in one on the inside.
My first experience at a major league park had been at the age of twelve. My family had been visiting the Boston area, and on a whim my dad had decided we would all go to a game at historic Fenway Park. I remember walking through the concourse and then up the ramp that led to seats and the view of the stadium. I just stood there and stared for a minute or two, not sure if I had ever seen anything quite like it. My love affair with baseball truly began that day and has lasted ever since. But, as I sat at the Trop, my only thought was always that if this had been my first stadium to visit as a kid, I would have probably never wanted to go to another major league baseball game again.