Date: Sun, 08 Aug 2010 20:57:33 -0400
From: tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Pinch-Hitter
PINCH-HITTER
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM
Mom was beautiful in her wedding dress. My Mom is a very beautiful
woman, everyone says so and I think so, too. But she was also sweating
heavily and her face was far too red-looking under her make-up, which was
looking a bit runny.
"You're sick, Mom." I said when I handed her the veil at her gesture.
"Yes." she said faintly. "I'm afraid so, dear."
"But you're getting married today!" I nearly wailed. "What'll Coach
think?"
"He knows, dear." Mom said. "We can't cancel the wedding, everything's
been all arranged for this day. Everyone's waiting for us." She sat down on
the pew nearby a little too hard. "Momma needs to rest a while before the
wedding." she said to me. "You go to Coach, he'll be waiting for
you. You're one of his groomsmen, you know."
"He said I was his best man." I protested.
"His brother is his best man." Mom reminded me.
"Well...he wanted me for his best man." I said. "Not his fault his mom
made him let his brother be it."
"So go be his groomsman." Mom waved a weary hand my way. She really
looked sick. I'd seen her take medicine, but it didn't seem to be doing her
any good.
I went over to where Coach was getting ready. Seeing his big frame
stuck inside a tuxedo was really something, it was all shiny and his body
made it all bulgy in a nice way.
"Hey, Ian!" he said when I opened the door.
"Hi, Dad!" I called back.
Coach grinned at that, but shook his head. "Not yet, I'm not." He
said. "I have to marry your mother first. Then I'll be your stepfather, but
you can call me Dad then if you want."
"I do...Coach." I said. God, I was so lucky. How many boys get to have
their Little League coach become their father! "But how is a stepfather all
that different from a father, anyway?" My own father had died when I was
only three, I had no memories of him unless you count a few fuzzy ones of
someone big and strong holding me and singing in a deep voice, a memory).
Coach looked at me, tried to decide how much he should say, I
guess. "You know what a pinch-hitter is, right."
"Yeah." I said. A pinch-hitter is someone you bring in to hit in place
of someone else who can't do it or do it very well.
"So a stepfather is someone who marries your mother when your father
is gone and you need someone to step in and fill in for him." Coach went
on. "But it has to be someone your mother really, really wants to fill in
for your father."
"Me, too!" I said. "Dad!"
Coach just laughed and rumpled my hair (then straightened it again)
and didn't correct me again. After all, it was only a few minutes before it
was official.
The wedding was just like we'd rehearsed it the last few days. Except
for Mom coughing a lot during the vows. And then Coach lifted the veil to
kiss her at the end. Mom looked at him kind of loving, kind of cross-eyed,
kind of nauseous...and then hurled chunks all over his tux! Coach caught
her before she could fall, and carried her over to the side-door. Wedding
was over and my only consolation was that it was done, at least!
That was what I thought until I overheard my aunts at the
reception. Mom and Coach weren't in it, he'd gone with her to the hospital,
but the reverend had sent everyone over to feast without the guests of
honor. I guess Father Michael had seen it all in his forty years in the
ministry!
But I was telling about my aunts and what they said, "A shame about
the wedding. No kiss, even. It's not legal without the kiss, you know." One
aunt said.
My heart jumped into my mouth, but my other aunt said, "No, the kiss
isn't required, Norma. It's the wedding night. You have to consummate the
marriage, you know. Until you do, it can be annulled at any time by just
anyone, you know."
"They say that Susan is going to be in the hospital for a week or
more." Aunt Norma said with a shake of her head. "I wonder if that dear
Gilbert is going to be willing to wait. I know that Susan was saving
herself for marriage as it was...."
I didn't stay and listen to any more, I went over to find someone to
drive me to the hospital to see Mom and right now! A cousin did so and I
found my new Dad (or was he my new Dad yet?), well, anyway, I found Coach
in the waiting room. He'd removed his tuxedo jacket and ruffled front,
getting rid of most of Mom's barf that way. His hair was now mussed up and
looking like it did when he was coaching our team.
"Hey there, Ian." he said to me. "Your Mom's sleeping now, sorry."
I babbled out tearfully what I'd overheard my aunts saying at the
reception-that-wasn't. "And they say you aren't married to Mom after all!"
I wailed as a finish.
"Now, Ian, Ian!" Coach held me. "Don't think like that."
"Then were they lying?" I asked.
"Not exactly." Coach didn't believe in lying to a kid, ever. "But for
a marriage to be annulled, someone has to ask for it to be annulled. I'm
not going to do that, and neither will your mother. We'll take care of the
rest of the marriage when she's better, that's all. Until then, we'll just
not worry about it, okay?"
"Okay." I said dolefully. But I didn't believe it. Until Coach was
able to consummate the marriage with my mother (and I knew what
consummation was thanks to my asking my cousin while being driven to the
hospital by him--I'd learned a long time ago the best way to get the truth
from adults was to ask different ones little pieces of the question, then
put it all together myself), he wasn't really married to her. But what was
I to do about it, anyhow?
Wish I could ask Coach what to do! But he'd already said not to worry
about it. The closest thing Coach had to refusing to answer a question we
kids would ask him was to say that! It meant he didn't want to talk about
it, and I wouldn't get any more out of him.
So I sat next to him while we waited, talking about other
things. After a while, a doctor came out and talked to Coach (the doctor
treated Coach like Mom's husband, at least) and finished with words I could
hear, "So take your son home and come back tomorrow. We'll start the tests
at ten a.m."
"I'll be here." Coach said and put an arm around my shoulder. "Let's
go home, Son."
"Okay, Dad." I said. But the word rang false in my ear. After all...he
wasn't really my Dad yet, was he? And wouldn't be as long as Mom was in the
hospital, instead of in his bed.
I wished there was something I could do.
I was in my bed waiting to sleep when I realized just what I could
do. Something Coach had said before the wedding.
I got up and padded barefoot into Mom's bedroom. Coach's bedroom now,
too, of course. He'd moved his stuff in the day before yesterday, and their
plan had been to stay here for their honeymoon and finish setting up.
I wondered if he'd be asleep, but he stirred and turned in the bed
when I walked in. I could see him, a dusky figure in the deep twilight of
the room, lit only by the street lights outside, none of them too close to
the house. "Ian? What is it? Can't sleep?"
"Yeah." I said. "Can I get in with you?"
"Sure." he flipped a corner of the covers back and I slid in. I was
wearing just my briefs, I couldn't see that he was wearing anything but the
covers weren't thrown back far enough to show below his waist. He was bare
to the waist, anyhow. Good. I got in beside him and covered us both up and
snuggled in next to him.
"Don't worry about your mother, Ian." Coach said. "She's getting
really good care in the hospital."
"It's not a cold, is it?"
"I'm afraid not. They're running tests on her tomorrow. We'll find out
what the problem is and get it fixed, don't worry about it." Shut up about
it, he meant.
"I wasn't worried about her." I said. "I was worried about you."
"Me?"
"Yeah." I said and my hand and leg went up onto his body, hand on his
chest, leg on his upper thigh...it still felt bare, he was wearing only
briefs...or nothing at all.
"Why are you worried about me?"
"It was about your not being married until you can consummate the
marriage."
"Not that again!" Coach sounded disgusted by the subject. "Ian, I told
you, it's not that important, we'll just wait until your Mom gets out of
the hospital and everything will be fine."
"We don't have to wait, Coach." I interrupted him before he could get
to "don't worry about it" again.
"Hah?" he said instead.
"Pinch-hitter, Coach, pinch-hitter. A player can't play, you send in a
pinch-hitter, right?"
"Yeah, but..."
"So I'm your pinch-hitter." I said. "Instead of doing this
consummating with Mom, you do it with me, okay?"
"But...but...."
"And then you'll start being my father." I concluded. I reached down,
sliding my hand over his stomach and down further, yes, he wasn't wearing a
stitch under the covers! I grasped his prick and I felt it surge and harden
in my hand, just like Jake and Mitch had said it would.
"Ian, Ian, God!" Coach murmured, his hand plucking at my arm
ineffectually, like he wanted to take my hand away and couldn't bring
himself to do it at the same time.
"It's okay, Coach, really!" I said to him. "We boys all knew. You'd
come watch us in the showers sometimes, and we'd see you get that lump in
your pants and know that you were wanting to get undressed and come in with
us. We told you to come in with us, didn't we?"
"I never did!" Coach breathed. "And I never touched any of you,
honest, never!"
"I know you never did." I said as I got his cock hard and began to
pump it back and forth. "But it's okay. I know what to do, and it's okay,
it's fun! Really!"
"Guh! Uhhhh! Uhhhh!" Coach was moaning and he summoned up his will and
grabbed my arm and lifted me free of his dong! But I was ready for that, I
dove under the covers and as he pulled at my arm, my head swiveled down and
I caught his glans in my mouth and sucked it inside.
"Oh, God!" Coach groaned and all resistance stopped. His hand came
down onto my head, but it only touched my head and stroked me while I
nursed on his pud. He lay his head back on the pillow and just groaned
while his hand made circles on my scalp. His cock was throbbing on my
tongue, I'd never felt anything like it before. My friend's dicks had been
tiny little things that never did anything. Coach's pud was leaking hot
salty fluid that tasted great, I licked it off over and over again and
always there was more to be sucked off in a bit.
"Oh, God, Ian, I'm going to cream!" he gasped after a bit. "I'm going
to squirt it, baby, squirt it right down your mouth and throat! Can I do
that, Ian, I can squirt my jizz into my boy? Will you take it for me?"
If it tasted like what I was already getting, which it probably
did.... "Uh-huh!" I grunted and his hands suddenly clenched on my head and
began working it up and down on his dong, fast. I held on as best I could
but didn't have to hold on long, for he was moaning hard and then he said,
"Here it comes, Son, here comes...your new...Daddy's...come!
Uh-KUHHH-HUHHHH, HUHHHHH!"
And it did taste like the stuff I'd been licking before. Now I could
and did drink it down as he pumped it into my mouth, hot and salty and
creamy and GOOD!
Coach was squirming and hunching up at my mouth, even after he
finished squirting it all into me and I was sucking on an empty cock that
was going soft. He stopped, finally, lay back on the bed panting, his big
chest heaving.
"You see, Coach?" I said to him as I climbed up on his warm, sweaty
body, just to feel it against my own. "Until Mom gets better, I can
pinch-hit for her just like I do sometimes on the team!"
"Oh, you sure can, Ian, you sure can!"
"Can I call you Daddy now?" I asked.
"You sure can...Son!"
"Daddy!" I kissed him and this time, the word felt just right.
I didn't know how long Mom was going to be in the hospital, but I knew
that I was willing to pinch-hit for her just as long as it took. And maybe
even after!
THE END
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E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM