Date: Fri, 27 Apr 2012 05:40:55 -0700 (PDT)
From: Joe Hunter <hunterjoe45@yahoo.com>
Subject: Baseball Diamond Tails - 6E

All the usual disclaimers apply:

+This story is a work of fiction.  If you think it is real, you have a very
active imagination.

+Do not read this story if you live in an area where it is illegal to do
so.

+Scenes of sexual activity between an adult male and a young boy are
represented.  Do not read further if this offends you.

+Please do not imitate the actions portrayed herein - the author cannot
accept responsibility for any actions promoted by this story.

If you would like to get in touch, please e-mail me at:

			hunterjoe45@yahoo.com

I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Support Nifty!   Joe
____________________________

BASEBALL DIAMOND TAILS - 6E
(copyright 2012, Joe Hunter)

::::::::::::::::::::
 Shortstop:  Part E
::::::::::::::::::::

The next morning I had barely gotten up and dressed when at six o'clock my
doorbell rang and Shane appeared.  He was in his usual jeans and boots,
with a Western shirt, a big cowboy hat and the paper sack with all his
things in his hand.  He looked excited and happy, but a little tired.

"I'm all ready, Coach," he announced with a big smile.  "My brother says to
tell you that I don't gotta' be home to the ranch till four or five, an' if
I catch any big ones to remember him and my sister-in-law."

We went right down to the Blazer, which I had loaded with all the things we
needed the night before so we could leave right away.  As he got in Shane
put his hand on the corner of the seat where a faint stain made the fabric
darker.

"Look, Coach," he said, rubbing his hand on it.

"Yup, still there," I told him, smiling.  "Shane's mark.  I think of you
every time I see it, son.  I'm glad it's there."

Shane leaned back and sighed contentedly.  "This is gonna' be fun..."  Then
he sat up.  "Coach did you bring the binoculars?"

"Yup.  In the glove box."

While I started the vehicle Shane checked the glove compartment to make
sure the field glasses were there and found the other thing I had stashed,
a bottle of Hawaiian Tropic tanning oil.  He pulled it out, looked over at
me and smiled.

"That's so we can work on your tan while you're out there," I told him.

The drive-thru at McDonald's supplied breakfast and we headed directly for
the wilderness area.  I sipped on a cup of coffee as the Blazer climbed
into the mountains in four-wheel drive.  Shane leaned against me and dozed
off, his long lashes and pretty features looking very young and innocent.
I reached several times to give his bare knee a caress.

Up on top of the first ridges I followed the old fire roads back to the
open meadow and stream where we had fished before.  This time, instead of
parking near the road, I 4-wheeled across the grassy slope to a spot much
farther in where a rocky outcrop commanded a magnificent view of the great
peaks to the west.  Within its shelter there was a natural cove protected
from view on all other sides.

When I turned off the engine Shane stirred and woke.  The first thing he
saw was the vast sweep of upland range rolling to a jagged mountain skyline
lit by the morning sun.

"Oh," he said softly.  "Oh, Coach, look..."

"Yeah...  It gets to me every time, too."

He stared for a while, and then asked, "Where are we?"

"Same stream we fished before.  This time I took us in away from the road.
Kind of a secret spot, just for us."

"Cool," Shane breathed softly.

We got out of the vehicle and took the fishing gear from the back.  The
summer sun was already warm.

"Can I take off my shirt, Coach?"

"Sure."  I nodded.  "Let's work on your tan."

The boy undid the pearl snaps of his Western shirt and slipped it off, his
lithe, well-formed upper body dazzling in the light.  After removing my
T-shirt I smeared Hawaiian Tropic over both of us, applying it quickly to
myself, but stroking my hands slowly over the boy, enjoying the sensuous
feel of the firm little muscles in his chest and back.  While I worked the
slippery oil around the velvet smoothness of Shane's lean waist and tummy
the boy leaned back against me, the front of his jeans bulging.

"You get much sleep last night?" I asked.

He shrugged.  "Some...  A lot of my brother's friends came over."

"How's the new stuff on your bike?"

Shane looked up.  "Oh, totally awesome, Coach!  The brakes are like so much
better.  And the pegs are cool.  I can ride Sean around on `em."

"Bet he likes that," I said, laughing.  "Did you guys have fun?"

"Uh-huh.  We pitched to each other, and we worked on his pivot.  We stayed
up kinda' late playin' video games.  An' we... like messed around, kinda'."

I smiled and stroked the boy's silky shoulder.  "It's been real good for
Sean to have you as a friend."

"Yeah...  I like him a lot."  Shane turned and hugged me tight, pressing
his naked chest to my body and laying his head on my chest.  "I really like
you a lot, too, Coach."

"I know..."

Bending, I kissed his tangled blonde hair and then put his big cowboy hat
on him, warning, "That sun is gonna' be fierce today."

Down at the stream I showed him new good spots we had not fished before and
once I was sure he was well started told him, "I'll get the rest of the
stuff out of the car.  It won't take long.  I'll be right back.  Keep
workin' your way down the bank here."

I had brought the big air mattress for us to use.  A few minutes with a
tiny electric pump that worked off the cigarette lighter got it inflated
and I put it in a level spot where the rocky cove gave privacy and shade.
My little hibachi grill found a place there as well where it was protected
from the breeze.  A page or two of old newspaper, a few sticks of kindling
and some charcoal laid the fire but I did not light it yet.  The bottle of
Hawaiian Tropic I left by the mattress.

Chores done I grabbed fishing pole and field glasses and rejoined Shane by
the stream.

"I gotta' bunch of nibbles!"  He whispered as I came up behind him, keeping
my shadow off the water.

"They're in there," I whispered back.  Using the field glasses I scanned
the meadows to the west.  Far off, on the slope of a ridge, there was
movement.  I tapped Shane's bare shoulder.

"Put your pole down slowly," I told him.  "Then take a look."

The boy he eased his fishing gear down onto the grass, took the binoculars
from me and looked where I had pointed.  He focused for a second and then
stared.

"They're pretty far, but you can see them," I murmured.  "See them moving?
There's a big one in front."

Shane stared through the powerful lenses.  "Oh, wow!" he breathed.  "Coach,
I've never seen one alive before.  Just dead ones."

"Yeah," I said quietly.  "I think they're neat lookin' alive, too.  But I
sure like eatin' `em in the winter."

"Yeah, elk burgers.  Yum..." Shane agreed.

He watched the elk until they disappeared over the ridge.  Then we both
went back to fishing.  I deliberately did not try too hard because I wanted
the boy to catch the ones we were going to eat for lunch, but I was ready
to get a few if he did not have any luck.  I had marked several spots in my
mind where they were probably hiding.

Giving Shane a little nudge I whispered, "Try over by that rock."

Shane cast his line there, practice having gotten him a little better at
it, and immediately the rod tip bent.

"Got one!"

It was a nice sized fish, big enough for an exciting fight, and Shane's
eyes were gleaming with delight when we finally brought it in.

We took it up to the Blazer and put it in the ice chest.  "Now we'll move
to another spot," I told him.  "There's plenty more in there!"

Over the course of the morning, with me helping, Shane caught four
good-sized trout, and probably could have gotten more except he was having
too much fun to keep his mind only on fishing.  Everything interested
Shane.  He kept taking the binoculars to look at things: trees, distant
peaks, a mountain squirrel, birds, and - for a few thrilling minutes - a
beautiful hawk that was cruising high above the meadow looking for a meal.

I got bombarded with nonstop questions and had to dust off my knowledge of
geology because Shane was fascinated by the subject.  How old were the
mountains?  What made them?  Why were the peaks so jagged?

When we took his fish to the cooler in the SUV and I showed him the layers
in the nearby rocky outcroppings and explained that they were hundreds of
millions of years old he stared at me, amazed.

"The mountains are that old?"

I shook my head.  "Nope, the mountains are young.  These old rocks here
were once at the bottom of a great sea.  Then, just 60 million years ago,
an enormous asteroid hit the Earth.  It destroyed almost all life on the
planet.  It wiped out the dinosaurs.  There were big disturbances in the
Earth's crust and a lot of volcanic action.  That's when these mountains
were formed and these old rocks got raised from the bottom of the sea high
into the air like you see them in front of you today."

The boy was wide-eyed.  "Coach, how do you know so much?"

I winked at him.  "I read a lot.  Nature and natural history interests me.
So I like to learn about it."

"Dinosaurs are cool!  I love readin' about `em."

"Tell you what," I said thoughtfully.  "Why don't I get you a couple of
books about the dinosaurs - and geology.  You could end up knowin' more
than me!  Maybe I'll throw in a book about baseball, too, just to see if
you like it.  Shall I do that?"

"Oh yeah, Coach," Shane said, grinning happily.

I put my arm around his bare shoulders and as we walked back to our fishing
poles by the stream Shane slipped his arm around my waist and leaned
against me.

"Do you think I'm dumb, Coach?"

"What?"  I exclaimed in surprise.  "What are you talkin' about?  You're
very intelligent, Shane.  Don't you know that?"

"My dad keeps telling me I'm dumb," Shane said sadly.

"That's crazy!  You're obviously very bright.  Where's he get an idea like
that?"

"He says I ask too many questions."

I stopped in mid stride and knelt down to face the boy, looking directly
into his eyes.  "Shane, only very intelligent people ask lots of questions.
You are a very bright, smart boy.  And you can tell your dad, I said so.
Now, you promise me you won't let anyone make you think you're dumb.
Promise me, son!"

"I promise," Shane told me solemnly.

We went the rest of the way to our fishing poles with Shane holding on to
me tightly.

The sun was nearly overhead and after Shane got one more nice fish we took
it to the Blazer and decided to start preparations for lunch.  I lit the
kindling in the hibachi and while the charcoal got going we cleaned the
fish.  This time I made Shane do it, with me coaching over his shoulder to
make damn sure my ace shortstop did not cut himself.  He worked slowly on
an old newspaper that I spread out downwind from our little campsite, and
once again I found myself explaining the different organs to him as he
asked question after question.  The last fish he dissected as if we were in
a science lab and I had to move him along or we would never have gotten to
eat.  Then I had him wash his hands in the stream while I disposed of the
heap of fish insides by laying them out in the meadow.

"Coach, doesn't that mess up the environment?"  Shane asked when he came
back.

"Nope.  Think about it.  What happens when an animal dies?"

"Other animals come and eat it," Shane answered promptly.

"Right.  Nature has a whole set of natural scavengers, from ants to
buzzards.  By the time we leave here all this will be gone.  You'll see."

We went back to our little campsite and wrapped three of the fish in
tinfoil with butter and salt.  The fourth we put away in the cooler.

"For your brother," I said.  "I'll deliver it later with your compliments."

Shane giggled happily.

He cooked the three fish on the grill all by himself using my watch as a
timer and then served them up proudly in their tin foil wrappers.  I
squirted lemon juice on my fish and had it with bread and butter from the
ice chest.  Shane had fun toasting his bread slices on the grill and eating
a buttery fish-toast sandwich.  We split the third fish, although I gave
the largest part to Shane without letting him know.

Dessert was a can of crushed pineapple accompanied by Oreo cookies, and
afterwards we both lay back on the air mattress contentedly.  Shane patted
his taut little belly.

"That was awesome, Coach.  I'm full."

"Nothin' better than a fish you catch and cook yourself, fresh from the
stream," I told him.  "People pay a lot of money to do this, an' we get it
for free."

The boy squirmed over toward me and touched my arm.  "I really like doin'
this."

"I like doin' this with you," I replied softly.

There was silence for a moment and then Shane whispered, "Coach, can anyone
see us here?"

"No," I assured him.  "That's why I picked this spot.  No one can see us
here."

The boy rolled against me, bare upper body pressed to mine, head resting on
my shoulder.  His palm made circles on my naked stomach and then moved down
onto my tight jeans, rubbing the bulge under the fly.

"Coach, you can like show me stuff if you want," Shane whispered softly.
"I'll let you."

I took his young, tender body into my arms and held him close.  Shane
closed his eyes.  His hand pushed against my jeans stroking my hard member
through the thick cloth and I unbuttoned the fly for him.  The boy pulled
down the zipper and slid his hand in, pushing beneath my boxer briefs.
There was a cool touch of little fingers on my stiff rod and then he began
to rub.

I stroked Shane's firm tapered back, kissed his closed eyes, his nose, his
little chin and felt the boy tremble with desire.  He gripped me tighter,
leaned his head back as I kissed the delicate hollows of his neck, and then
put his lips on mine, opening his mouth to let my tongue thrust deep.

I held his firm young body with an arm around his shoulders and stroked a
palm down his back to cup the denim covered mound of his butt, feeling the
muscles tighten under the cloth as the boy squeezed.  My hand went to the
front of his tight jeans, unbuttoned, unzipped and pushed beneath his tiny
briefs finding warm silky smoothness and a rigid boy stick that throbbed as
I began to stroke slowly.  Moaning, Shane rubbed harder on my own rod and
squeezed his butt to swell his thickened little shaft under my fingers.

Locked in mutual embrace, bathed in warm mountain sunshine, we writhed and
felt each other, and then I started tickling Shane, brushing fingertips
over his ribs.  Our lips parted and the boy gave a delighted giggle.  When
he tried to tickle back my fingers went to his crotch and he wiggled on the
mattress, trying to hold my hands, giggling and laughing.  The struggles
pulled the jeans off his hips leaving his tight white briefs gleaming in
the sunshine.

I bent to kiss him and he threw his arms around me, hugging for a moment
and then stretching out while I took off his boots and socks.  Like his
legs, Shane's feet were a little too large for the rest of his body but I
loved their warm delicate feel.  I tickled the soles very gently and Shane
squirmed, laughing.

His jeans were already pulled down to his firm rounded thighs.  I pushed
them below the knees and held on as he withdrew his slender legs one by
one.  Then the jeans were tossed aside and the boy lay stretched in the
sunlight, naked except for the underwear briefs,

I filled my eyes with his beauty, stroking the hint of downy fuzz on the
lower legs, the graceful swell of muscle in the calf, delicate knees, silky
smooth thighs.  Shane stretched and arched his body, tightening the rounded
muscle under my palm and when I pushed gently onto his inner thighs he
spread his legs so I could slip my hands over the satiny smoothness,
sliding up to the creases of his groin where his dazzling white briefs were
tented up, straining to contain his rigid boyhood.

I pushed fingers beneath the elastic of the tight briefs and Shane lifted
so the cloth would slide down his hips.  Gently I raised the waistband over
his straining boner and pushed the briefs to his knees, then off his legs
and the boy lay naked in front of me, every line of his beautifully defined
body drawn in dazzling light, his thickened pubescent rod straining upward,
quivering with his heartbeat.  I ached to hold him and pleasure him, and he
reached for me, eyes filled with longing.

Swiftly I stripped off and Shane came into my arms, letting his smooth
young body press against me.  The smell of his hair, the scent of heated
boy flesh filled me as we kissed, and my tongue thrust deep, my hands
roving over him stroking and caressing.  The boy moaned, reaching between
us to slide his warm little fist on my throbbing hardness.  My fingers went
to his rigid boy shaft and he shuddered with passion, writhing against me,
sliding his body on mine, his hardness throbbing in a series of quick
pulses that brought slippery wetness dribbling off the tip.

We lay together, twisting on the mattress, the sun warm on our bodies, and
then our lips parted and Shane buried his head in my shoulder hugging
tight.  The boy was all warmth and taut firm smoothness: silken buttocks,
satiny thighs, glossy flanks.  Inhaling his scent I used lips and tongue to
bring Shane to moaning, arching tension and then licked his quivering rod,
tasting more slippery sweetness at the tip.

Shane rolled to his back, throwing his slender arms around my hips and
taking me into his mouth, tongue darting back and forth across the slit.
Tremors shot through me, droplets rolling from my tip and as Shane licked
at them his knees drew up, slender thighs straining apart.  I kept sucking
on him, tongue curling around his shaft and my forefinger traced his crack,
pressing on his tight opening.  Shane moaned, pulled my full length deep
into his throat and began jerking, pulse after pulse throbbing in his rigid
penis.  I squeezed against a massive answering surge in my loins, held it
back for a few heartbeats and then, overwhelmed, bucked in shuddering
heaves, exploding spurts of creamy man juice into the boy's gullet.

Shane fought to swallow, arms gripping convulsively, lean body arched up,
his rigid boy stick pulsing in my mouth.  I tasted sweet droplets at the
slit, rubbed my fist pumping the thickened little shaft and his hips bucked
in thrust after thrust.

We heaved against each other, bodies shuddering in spasm and at last Shane
pulled off to take a shuddering breath.  I was panting, half collapsed on
him and groaned, shuddering as he milked my spent rod and licked the drops
off my sensitive tip.  Changing position I turned to lie next to the boy
and took his limp body into my arms, kissing him, licking his tiny nipples,
kissing his closed eyes, his nose, his chin, and at last his sweet mouth
again.  Stroking his tangled blonde hair I slowly pushed my tongue between
his lips, tasting my own semen and Shane wrapped his arms around my chest,
pulling a knee up over my hip to nestle against me.

Stroking my wonderful little shortstop, caressing his firm tanned back and
shoulders, I willed time to stop so I could hold and protect him forever.
Shane hugged me tight, running his own warm hands over my sides.  Our lips
parted and he rested his head on my chest.

"Don't stop, Coach."

"More?"

He nodded eagerly and pressed against me, butt tightening as he hugged.  I
felt his hard little branch pushing on my belly.

"Let's work on your tan," I said, tickling to make him giggle.

With generous amounts of Hawaiian Tropic I oiled the boy, spread it over
his upper body and then down past the tan line onto his pale hips and butt.
When the edge of my palm slid through his crease Shane rolled onto his
back, pulling his knees up, opening his thighs and my fingers pushed oil
around his closed ring and the base of his tight little nut sack.

Resisting the impulse to linger I finished off by oiling Shane's perfect
legs and then stretched out, pulling the boy up on top of me so he lay face
up, pert firm butt nestled in the hollow of my stomach and head back next
to mine while I circled my palms on his chest, glossy sides and then
dribbled lotion into the hollow of his tiny belly button.  Shane giggled
and squirmed.

"That tickles!"  His boyish laughter was like sweet silvery music.

I spread the lotion over the hard little ridges in his tummy and around his
small waist.  Then squirted more over his smooth groin and slid my oily
fist up and down his rigid boy stick.  Shane arched, stretching his lovely
body, moaning with pleasure, slender legs spread to either side of my hips.

"Mmmmm..." I said, pumping him.  "You smell like coconut."

Shane giggled and stretched his arms back to either side of my neck.

Then as I stroked him faster he moaned again and pulled his knees up,
thighs straining apart.

My left hand went around behind his leg, pressed at the base of his nut
sack and then probed downward, fingertips rubbing across the clenched
dimple of his opening.  Shane writhed in passion, butt tightening on my
belly and a throb pulsed in his slick shaft.  He pulled his legs up and I
pressed on his opening, at the same time pumping hard on his straining
shaft.  Shane gave a soft little cry and arched up, his rigid boy stick
jerking.  Milky droplets flew from the tip.

Squeezing to harden himself the boy twisted and stretched in ecstasy, head
arched back and arms extended as he gave little moaning cries of pleasure.
My finger slid into his muscular ring and Shane lifted, pushing against me
while I twisted it and rubbed his shaft faster with my other hand.

Suddenly my slippery finger popped through, sliding into the boy's body up
to the first knuckle.

"Uhhhhhh..."

Shane's head strained back over my shoulder, body arching, and then he was
bucking and jerking, jutting boner throbbing in pulse after pulse as my
finger wiggled in his hot moist sweetness.  There was a final spasm, his
pulsating rod contracted powerfully and a few glistening drops shot from
his slit to land on his lean belly.

"Ohhhhh..." he moaned.  "Ohhh, Coach..."  His ring tightened painfully
around my finger as he squeezed, trying to harden his boy stick into
another throbbing spasm.  "More...  Do it more..."

Rubbing even faster I slid my oily fingers over his sensitive tip.  Shane's
head arched back further.

"Uhhhhhhh..."

His ring loosened and I slipped in a second finger, finding his little nub,
pressing and rubbing, jamming my knuckles against the stretched opening,
deepening my penetration.

"Ahhhhhhhhh...  Oh...  Oh...  Oh...  Oh...  Oh..."

Shane's legs jerked, his stiff rod throbbed under my hand and wetness
dribbled from the tip.  Then he was lying sprawled on top of me, knees
sagging apart and I let my fingers slide from his hole.

Gently I caressed the satiny sheen of his inner thighs and circled a palm
over his slender tummy and chest, rubbing the slippery streaks of his boy
cum into the skin while he remained motionless, eyes closed.  Then I slid
him onto the air mattress, rolled him into my arms and the boy hugged
around my neck, resting his head on my shoulder.

"Coach," he pleaded in a whisper that was half a moan.  "Coach, can we do
it more?"

I kissed his tangled blonde hair, stroked the muscular little shoulders and
squeezed his rounded butt.  "As much as you want."

"It's like so awesome..."  He turned his face up to mine.  "What is
that... like... like up inside?"

I kissed him and stroked his hair.  "It's like a third ball.  When you rub
there it feels good."

Shane hugged pressed against me.  "Do it more, Coach."

Squirting out another palm full of tanning oil I massaged his back and pale
hips while Shane squirmed impatiently.  Then I put him on his back where he
stretched out, arms behind his head, his smooth defined young body
glistening in the sun under its coating of oil.  I massaged his shoulders,
chest, lean tummy, thighs and then at last the quivering boy stick jutting
from his groin, sliding my fingers up and down its hard shaft.

Twice I brought the boy to the edge letting him writhe moaning beneath my
hand.  Then I picked him up and laid him across my body with the hollow of
his back on my belly, and his head and arms stretched over my side.  I took
one of his slender arms, brought it down, guiding his hand on to my own
straining member and the boy closed his eyes rubbing slowly.  I tightened
my butt to swell my shaft in his fist.

"Yeah..." I whispered, stroking the boy's firm chest.  My palm slid over
the little rounded slabs of muscle.  I brushed my fingertips over the tiny
hard nubs of the boy's nipples and Shane arched his head back, lips parted.
A tiny drop of glittering moisture appeared on the tip of his quivering boy
stick.

Sliding a hand beneath the boy's thigh I pushed into his butt crease and
Shane drew his knees up, straining his thighs apart.  When my finger
pressed on his opening, stretching the ring, Shane's fist tightened on my
erection, rubbing harder.  His tight sphincter fluttered, relaxed and my
finger sank deep into his body.

"Uhhhhhhhh..."

Feet twisting, Shane arched and stroked me faster as I wiggled my finger up
into his heat and rubbed his nipples with my other hand.  Gradually I
worked in a second finger, probed for his nub and pressed gently as Shane
moaned in ecstasy, writhing and pumping his fist on my shaft.

My own body began to respond, pressure building, and when I squeezed to
hold back Shane felt it and rubbed harder.  Slippery precum dribbled from
my slit over his pumping fist.  With a circling movement I rubbed his hard
lean belly and then wiggled a fingertip in his belly button, pushing firmly
while massaging his nub inside and Shane arched up moaning in ecstasy.  His
feet kicked and then as his hips began to jerk I moved my hand to his
throbbing boy stick, stroked as hard and as fast as I could and was
rewarded by a train of quick pulsing contractions.  Slippery drops rolled
off the tip, Shane quivered, arched, and pumped my shaft frantically, every
muscle in his young body etched in tension...

"Ah...  Uhhh!"

A powerful contraction shot an arc of gleaming droplets from the boy's slit
onto his stomach.  Then more slipperiness followed as pulse after pulse
after pulse throbbed in his shaft.  I kept my fingers wiggling up inside
him, massaging his nub and Shane's mouth opened wide in a long moaning cry
of passion.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh..."

Lost in sensation, the boy had stopped moving his fist on me but just the
sight of his sculpted perfection arched in shuddering ecstasy was enough to
take me over the edge.  Bucking and jerking I shot spurt after spurt of
creamy man juice onto the boy's groin and belly, barely able to keep my
fingers working on him as we heaved together.

It was too perfect to last long.  Moments later I was on my back, gasping,
with Shane's body sprawled across my belly glistening with oil and pools of
my semen.  Unlike me he was still rigidly hard, his thickened boy rod
jutting upward, quivering with every heartbeat.

I reached down, rubbed the milky strands of semen into his skin as they
dried in the sunlight and then pulled the limp boy over on top of me so I
could hold him in my arms.  Shane's legs fell to either side of my hips and
his lean perfectly formed upper body pressed against mine, smooth silky
skin slippery with oil.  I stroked and caressed him, kissing his tangled
hair.  His hard penis pushed against my belly.

"Ohhhhhh," Shane moaned softly.  "Coach..."

I rolled with him so we were both on our sides.  The boy lifted his face to
be kissed and I pulled his tender body tight against me.  Shane's mouth
opened under mine and I pushed my tongue in deep while he writhed slowly,
smooth oiled skin sliding on mine.

At last our lips parted.  Shane pulled a knee up over my hip and cuddled
close, his head on my chest.  I kissed his hair and stroked his back and
butt.

"Coach, you really like me a lot."

It was said in a very soft whisper, almost as if he could not quite believe
it.

"More than my life," I said, bending to kiss him.  "I think you're the most
wonderful kid in the world."

Shane closed his eyes and hugged, a tear streaking down his cheek that I
kissed away.  "I'm so lucky," he whispered.

I held and stroked him in the warm sunshine, letting him cling while I
whispered over and over, "You're the best, son.  The best kid in the
world."

Finally Shane stirred and I could feel his rigid boner pushing against me.
Eyes still closed he whispered, "Coach, you can do more to me if you want."

"I want to, Shane, but we have to go home now."

He shook his head.  "It can't be time yet."

"Yeah...  But it is."  I gave him another hug.

The boy opened his eyes to gaze up, pleading, "We can do this again, can't
we?"

"As often as they want, Shane.  Don't worry."

"I want to do it again," Shane said, to be certain that I understood.

"I know, son.  I promise that we will."

Untangling from him I got up and the boy reluctantly pulled boots onto his
bare feet, but refused to dress right away.

"I wanna' get all tan while I'm here," he said, looking down at the pale
skin in his middle.  "It's OK, right Coach?  'Cause no one can see me
here?"  He looked to me for reassurance.

"That's right," I told him.  "No one can see you here."

Shane remained naked while we cleaned up the campsite, bouncing happily on
the air mat to deflate it and helping me dump the ashes from the grill in a
spot near the stream where we could soak them with water.

"'Cause like we gotta' be sure they don't start a fire," he reminded me
solemnly.

With our things put away in the Blazer and the trash collected in a garbage
bag, I started getting dressed.  Shane walked to the edge of the rocky
outcropping and stared out at the great peaks lifting toward the sky in the
West.

There was a faint sound, the far away cry of a hawk...  I lifted my head,
staring...

The boy's lovely body gleamed in the afternoon light, wind ruffling his
tangled blond hair.  Shane might have been a young warrior, a boy from the
deeps of time, standing at the edge of all that was familiar, gazing in
wonder at the vast unknown he longed to explore.  The sun's rays pouring
over him defined every muscle, sculpting his form into a masterpiece of
pure beauty.  I stood transfixed, knowing I was witness to rarity only the
mind could record and memory hold.

The hawk cried again, cloud shadow raced over the meadow and Shane came
walking back to me.

"Coach, I hate to leave.  I wish we could stay longer."

"I know.  I wish we could, too."

He leaned back against me, resting his head on my chest and arching his
firm muscular body outward as he stared at the mountains.  "It's so
beautiful..."

"It's like a different world out there, Shane."

He looked up at me anxiously.  "You're gonna' take me someday, aren't you
Coach?"

I stroked his hair.  "You know I will, son.  I promised."

He gazed at the view again, satisfied, and then looked down at his stiff
erection that was still jutting out proudly.  Stroking it, he arched a
little and squeezed his butt.

"Look, Coach.  I still gotta' boner."

I stroked his smooth chest and hugged him.  "Enjoy it while you can," I
said ruefully.  "When you get big enough to make the white stuff you have
to let it rest for a while before it comes up again."

Shane rubbed himself and giggled.  "Then I hope I never get big, Coach."
He pulled his head back to give me a mischievous grin.

"OK, little stud."  I patted him on his silky shoulder.  "That's enough.
Get some clothes on so he can get out of here.  I gotta' get you home."

The boy dressed reluctantly and then as he got into the Blazer asked again,
"Coach, we'll come back here, won't we?  I really want to."

"We will, son.  That's a promise."

Leaning over I started to hug the boy's shoulders but Shane wrapped both
arms around me and insisted on a long deep kiss.

For the drive back along the fire road I gave Shane the field glasses and
he looked for wildlife, treating me to a running commentary on everything
he saw.  Then as we started down the long grade across the face of the
mountain with its magnificent view of the plains below he got quiet.

"Coach," he asked suddenly, "Does it feel just as good when you do it with
a girl?  I mean...  As nice as when we do it?"

I turned and smiled at him fondly.  "It can.  With the right person, just
as nice.  But nice in a different way."

"Oh," he said thoughtfully.

He stared out at the view and did not say anything.  When we got down to
the bottom of the grade I slowed the Blazer and put the transmission into
two-wheel drive before getting onto the blacktop.  Shane leaned across the
seat divider, resting his head on my shoulder and holding my arm.

"Coach, I don't wanna' go home.  Why can't I stay with you?"

I put my arm around his shoulders and hugged.  "Your parents are expecting
you, Shane.  I don't want you to get in trouble.  There's gonna' be lots of
other times when you'll be able to stay with me.  We're gonna' have lots
and lots of times together.  You'll see.  Why, I bet this winter we'll be
able to fix it so we have whole weeks together.  Just be patient.  Try to
think of all the nice things we'll do.  And in the meantime, we'll just do
what we have to do, OK?"

"OK," he said quietly, but on the drive out to his ranch he stayed snuggled
close to me, sometimes stroking my arm.

"Coach?"

"What is it, son?"

"Coach, you're my very best friend."

I hugged him.  "I always will be, Shane."

After dropping Shane at the ranch it seemed a long drive back to town
without him in the seat beside me.  I stopped for gas and then delivered
the fish to his brother's trailer where I was greeted at the door by
Shane's sister-in-law.

"Hi, Coach!"

"Compliments of your brother-in-law!"  I told her, handing over the cold
foil wrapped package.

"Perfect."  She gave me pleased smile.  "I'll just have time to grill this
for supper."

"It's all cleaned up and ready to go."

Shane's brother joined us and invited me inside saying, "How many did you
catch?"

"Four nice ones.  Shane and I ate three but he insisted that we save one
for you."

"Shane's a good kid," his brother said, smiling.  "I'm glad he got a chance
to go fishing with you.  You know, being on the team this summer's really
been good for him.  He seems so much happier.  He talks more."

"I think spending weekends in town with you has a lot to do with that."

He nodded.  "Yeah, it's lonely for the kid out on the ranch by himself.
It's not really my dad and mom's fault.  They're getting older and I guess
raising all my brothers and sisters and me kinda' wore them out.  They just
weren't ready to go through it all again when Shane came along.  He was
kind of a surprise baby you see."

"Look," I told him.  "I've been thinking.  Why can't you and I talk to
them?  We can probably fix it so he lives here during the school year.
That way he wouldn't spend all that time on the bus.  He could play
basketball, maybe do wrestling.  He'd be with other kids his age.  That
might be nice for him.  I'd be willing to help you guys out if you kept him
all the time."

The young man grinned at me.  "You mean it, Coach?"

"Of course he means it," his wife said, pushing her husband aside and
facing me.  "I think it's a great idea.  Coach, we'd be willing if you'll
help us.  Let's talk about it.  You want a beer?"

"Yeah," I told her with a grin.  "Let's make this work!"

I went back home later that evening in a very good mood.

[ To Be Continued In Parts F thru K ]

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Hope you enjoyed it!  This baseball series has a 'long' short story for
every position.  Look for a new chapter or two each month.

Thanks for taking the time to read my story and if you'd like to comment,
my e-mail address is:

			hunterjoe45@yahoo.com

I will try to answer all serious mailings.  My on-line access is very
limited.  Rants and ravings will not get consideration.

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You can find links to all my other stories on Nifty under my name, Joe
Hunter, listed under the J's (for Joe) in the prolific authors list.  To
get that list click the Authors tab at the top of the Nifty home page and
then select 'Prolific Authors'.  I hope you will read and enjoy!

All the Best.  Joe