Date: Thu, 1 Dec 2011 11:53:17 -0800 (PST)
From: Joe Hunter <hunterjoe45@yahoo.com>
Subject: Baseball Diamond Tails - 4B

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 - 4B
(copyright 2011, Joe Hunter)

::::::::::::::::::::::
 Second Base:  Part B
::::::::::::::::::::::

Danny rode his bike to practice every day after that, and never had to ride
it home because I drove him.  We stayed late every day working on drills to
improve his batting, taking swings at an old rubber tire mounted on a
fencepost or hitting balls off a tee into the backstop.

"Arms and shoulders," I kept telling him.  "You've got the coordination.
It's strength we need now.  Swing that bat like you mean business!"

With a determined nod my Little Ace would go to work; golden, late
afternoon sunlight shining on his bare upper body as he blasted ball after
ball into the screen of the old wooden backstop.  After a few minutes sweat
would be glistening on his smooth skin, the shorts would be plastered to
his hips and every swing of the bat would bring an instant of tension to
his immature muscles, changing Danny for that fleeting moment into a
timeless image of classic beauty.

After every session, with bike and the equipment bags loaded into my SUV,
Danny would scurry to the front seat, pull pants and briefs down and lean
back while I massaged his naked little body.  The boy loved the feel of my
hands on his bare skin and he learned quickly how to put the seat back so
he could stretch out, arms behind his head and the unusually long shaft of
his rigid boy stick jutting up quivering from his groin.

He always giggled a little when I brushed the hard points of his tiny
nipples and then he would writhe, moaning softly when I rubbed his taut
belly and slender thighs.  By sliding fingers on the slick length of his
boy rod I could bring him to heaving, jerking pleasure with dribbles of
milky fluid oozing out of the slit.  Then, while he pulled up pants and
underwear, I would drive him home, stopping a few blocks from his house so
he could go the rest of the way on the bike as if he had ridden all the way
from the field.

Saturday, after practice, he stayed with me as we had arranged and I took
him to Pitch 'n Putt out on the highway for hamburgers and an hour in the
batting cages.  Then, with Danny pretty well worn out, we headed back to my
apartment where he collapsed in a sprawl on the living room floor.  I took
off his ball cap and Nikes, leaving him stretched on the rug in just his
shorts while I went to get him a soda.  When I came back the TV was on and
he was playing a videogame.  With a grateful look Danny finished off the
drink and then I settled down next to him so he could lean against me while
he played.

The boy had chosen a combat game and as he fought through scene after scene
my hand slid over the silky skin of his bare chest and shoulders, stroking
tenderly.  Each time he made it past another big obstacle I bent down to
kiss the top of his head.  Finally Danny finished the level he was on, put
the controller down and wiggled back against me.

"Strip me, Coach," he whispered.

Using both hands I unbuttoned the top of his pants.  The boy pulled down
his fly and then helped me push the shorts below his knees so he could pull
his legs free.  Then he lifted himself so I could peel off his tight
underwear briefs and slide them off.  Once he was naked Danny sighed,
leaned back and pulled my hand down onto his long rigid boner.  I began to
rub slowly, circling my other hand on the silky skin of his hip and thigh.

Danny took up the video controller and maneuvered through another level of
the game.  "At my house I like to do this," he told me.

I smiled fondly.  "What's that?"

"Play naked.  I do it when no one's home."

I kept stroking and rubbing, watching him play through a few more levels of
the game and then got up, went to the bedroom and changed into an old pair
of loose cutoffs.  I didn't bother putting a shirt on.  When I came back,
Danny was exploring around the living room, naked and still rigidly hard,
his unusually long slender boy stick jutting out in a slight upward curve.
In one corner of the room was a small gun cabinet and he stopped in front
of it.

"My daddy has a gun.  I know how to shoot it."

I went over to him, stroked his bare shoulder and he turned his head to
look up at me.  "Can I have some more Coke?"

We went to the kitchen where I got a clean glass from an overhead cabinet
while Danny opened the refrigerator in search of the soda.  Because my back
was turned I missed seeing the mini-disaster that followed, but suddenly
there was a dull 'Thunk!' and the 'glug, glug, glug' of escaping liquid.
Danny gave a squeak of dismay.  In pulling out the heavy two liter of Coke
he had toppled a gallon milk jug onto the floor.  The cap had popped off
and milk was gushing all over the linoleum.

I turned in surprise and my sudden movement frightened the boy.  He cringed
away, crouching down, arms over his head as if to ward off a blow.  "Nooo!"
he pleaded.  "I'm sorry, Coach!  I didn't mean to...  Don't hit me!"

I stared a moment, in shock, and then knelt down.  "Hey...  Whoa, take it
easy.  It's ok...  It's all right..."

I spoke softly, the way you would to a frightened animal.  "Easy now Little
Ace...  No one's gonna hit you."

Gradually the boy let his arms down and lifted his head.  I reached out,
took his hand and gently pulled him close.  He was trembling violently.
After a moment his arms went around me, hugging tight.

"There...  There now," I told him quietly.  I stroked his back.  "See, it's
all right.  It's all right.  No one's going to hurt you."

I got a paper towel and wiped milk off his legs and feet.  "See," I told
him.  "Everything's okay."

I picked him up in my arms and, stepping around the big puddle of milk, I
carried the frightened boy into the living room where we settled on the rug
with Danny clinging desperately, face buried on my shoulder.  I rocked him
in my arms.  .

"Now then...  See?" I whispered.  "Everything's all right."

The boy's trembling began to lessen.

"I'm your Coach, Danny," I told him.  "You're my Little Ace.  I would
never, ever hit you.  Don't you know that?  Come on now.  It's all right."

At last the boy relaxed and after a few sobs all I heard were some
sniffles.  I drew his head back to look into his tear-streaked face and
smiled at him.  "Okay," I asked tenderly.  "Now, who am I?"

Danny gave me a tiny, weak smile.  "You're Coach."

"And who are you?" I pointed my finger at him.

"I'm your Little Ace."

"And would I ever, ever do anything to hurt you?"

He shook his head and then hugged me.  "I'm sorry, Coach."

"There's nothing to be sorry about."

I hugged back, hands sliding down his back, caressing gently and then
cupping his rounded butt.  The boy cuddled against me and sighed.

"Gee," I told him.  "Guess we better clean up all that milk before the
cockroaches do!  Come on, you can help."

We went back around the breakfast bar to the kitchen and I gave Danny a big
roll of paper towels to rip off and hand to me while I mopped up the spill.

"There we go!" I said, blotting the last of it and smiling at the boy.
"Good thing it wasn't a full jug.  Now, you try again.  Go ahead and get
that pesky old Coke bottle out."

I opened the refrigerator door for him, and Danny, reaching in very
carefully, pulled out the big bottle of Coke.  I held a glass for him while
he poured and then he put the bottle away.

"There you go, Little Ace," I told him lovingly.  "Everybody messes up
sometimes.  And you know what we do?  We clean things up, and try again.
You see how easy it is?  That's what we do in baseball, in school, and
everything else.  Okay?"

The boy sipped his Coke and smiled at me.  "Thanks Coach."

"Come on..." I put my hand on his shoulder and led him into the living room
where we settled into my lounge chair with Danny on my lap.

"Somebody hit you once, and that's why you're so scared.  Right?"

Danny nodded.

"Tell me about it.  Tell me what happened."

I got the story out of him in bits and pieces.  When he was six or seven he
had been beaten repeatedly by his mother's boyfriend.

"I had to be in a foster home for a while," he told me.

"Is this man still around?"

Danny shook his head.  "He's gone."

"Okay," I said.  "Thanks for telling me.  Just remember, you're safe now.
No one can hurt you.  If anyone tries, you tell me, okay?"

Danny nodded.

"Who am I?" I asked again.

"You're my Coach."

"And who are you?"

"I'm your Little Ace!"

"Is anyone going to hit you or hurt you?" I asked, tickling him.

The boy laughed and hugged me tightly.  "No, because you won't let them."

"Right!"

I held his little naked body for a while, stroking and petting, loving the
feel of silky skin and pretty little butt.  The slender thighs were just
starting to show some muscle from the bike riding and as I slid my hands
over their smooth rounded curves Danny's long boy rod swayed, lifted and
then stiffened into quivering rigidity.  He stretched out across my lap,
letting his arms and upper body arch down toward the floor and I circled a
palm on his lean tummy.  Then, taking his jutting boner in my fist, I
rubbed firmly while stroking the velvety surface of his inner thighs with
my other hand.  The boy moaned, squeezed to harden himself, and then
writhed, lifting his hips up against my sliding fist.

I let him enjoy the feeling for a while longer before releasing his
throbbing shaft to go back to stroking the taut sheath of his tummy.  The
boy stirred and I pulled him back up to a sitting position where he hugged
me and then slid off my lap to walk over to the gun cabinet again.

When he tugged at the locked door I got up and went to stand behind him.
The boy arched back against me, stretching his arms over his head and
tightening his slender butt to make his quivering boy rod strain outwards.
When I slid my hand down to rub the long jutting shaft it was so hard I
could feel the throb of his excited heartbeat.

"I like to do something with my daddy's gun," Danny whispered.  "Can I show
you, Coach?"

I took the key from its hiding place in a drawer and opened the cabinet.
There were two weapons, a rifle and a shotgun.  Danny reached for the rifle
but I took it first, checked to make sure it was unloaded and then passed
it to him.  The boy caressed the glistening metal barrel with his hand.

"This is like my daddy's," he said.

Holding the gun with both hands he sat down by the wall and then propped
the butt between his legs so the muzzle was pointed at his face.  Then,
using his right fist, he stroked his long hard boner.

"It feels good," he whispered.

Wiggling the big toe of his left foot into the trigger guard Danny put the
muzzle of the gun into his mouth, closing his lips around it.  He caressed
the barrel of the rifle for a while with his left hand, continuing to rub
himself with the right and I watched his butt tighten as he made his
slender shaft swell against his fist.  Then he closed his eyes, gave a
little moan and pushed the trigger with his toe.

There was a loud 'click' from the hammer.  Danny's body went rigid, eyes
opening wide.  The gun slipped out of his mouth, his arms went limp, and
then, sagging to one side, he slid down to lie sprawled on the floor, still
holding himself with his fist, eyes staring ahead unseeing.

I took the gun, put it back in the cabinet and sat down next to him.  The
boy lay motionless, staring sightlessly, remaining limp even when I picked
him up to hold against me.  I stroked down the silky taper of his back and
squeezed his butt.

"That's a pretty intense game," I told him softly.

He stirred slightly, pumping his rigid boy rod again.  "It's my dead game.
I play it when there's nobody home."

I slid my palm around the glossy curve of hip and kissed the top of his
head.

"I do another one," Danny told me, sitting up.  "I'll show you."

He got to his feet, ran quickly into the kitchen and I heard him opening
drawers.  There was a dreamy expression on his delicate pretty face when he
came back.

"Watch," he said softly.

Dropping to his knees he stared straight ahead, smooth slender body
gleaming in the sun rays coming through the glass balcony doors at the end
of the living room.  His long stiff boner jutted straight out from his
groin, the tip quivering.  It was only then that I saw he was holding one
of my cheap plastic handled steak knives.

"Whoa..."  I started to say, leaning forward.  But Danny was too quick.

Placing the sharp knife tip against his taut stomach, just below the belly
button, he closed his eyes and with a sudden jerk appeared to drive the
blade into his body.  For a split second I was sure he had actually stabbed
himself, but then I saw that his hands had slipped over the knife.  The
move was so fast I was sure he must have sliced fingers on the sharp edge.

Danny gasped, arching in tension for a moment with his head thrown back.
Then he doubled over, hands clenched around his lean belly.  Slowly he
toppled to one side, sprawling onto the floor.  His legs thrashed weakly,
half rolling him onto his back.  He pulled one knee up, let it sag to one
side and then lay still, the knife held in one hand so it appeared to stick
out from his tummy.  With his head turned to one side he stared unblinking
at the wall, pretending to be dead, the only movement a quiver of heart
beats in his long rigid boy stick.

Carefully I took the knife out of his fingers, got up and put it away in
the kitchen.  When I came back the boy was still motionless on the floor,
one pulled up knee sagging off to the side.  Stretching out next to him I
slid a palm up his slender thigh, brushed fingertips across the groin
crease and caressed his smooth silky waist.  Danny continued to stare at
the wall without moving. I leaned over, inhaling the sweet scent of young
boy, and then kissed his slender chest and licked the tiny hard points of
his small nipples.  Swirling my tongue I licked down the firm narrow sheath
of his tummy all the way to the dainty vee of his groin where his long
slick boner was pointing upward in quivering rigidity.  I curled my tongue
around the slim shaft, mouthed its tip and then took the rest of the long
slender hardness in my fist to rub and squeeze gently.

Danny rolled against me, put a hand on the bulge of my loose cutoffs and
explored through the cloth.  "I like the knife one, 'cause I don't die so
fast," he said, moving fingers back and forth on my hardness. "Sometimes I
want the knife, like, all slippy an' cold inside me."

He tried to put his little fist around my shaft but my cutoffs were too
tight.  With a final caressing swirl of my tongue around his tip I drew my
head back, changed position so I could kiss the top of his head and then
rubbed him harder.  The boy was tremendously aroused, his long slender
penis rock hard.

"I know another one, Coach," he whispered anxiously.  "With a rope.  But
not on the rug, 'cause I pee myself."

"Let's do a different game," I whispered back.

Picking up the naked boy I carried him into my bedroom, laid him on his
back on the bed and stretched out beside him.  Danny regarded me from under
his long delicate eyelashes, looking anxious, as if he were about to cry.

"Didn't I do it right, Coach?  Are you mad at me?"

Pulling his little body against mine I held him close, feeling the heart
beat in his slender chest.

"You were perfect."

"When I do it just right it feels awesome," he said, reaching down to rub
himself.

I took his hand off his own straining rod and moved it to the bulge in my
cutoffs.  The boy rubbed eagerly and I unbuttoned and unzipped so he could
push under the cloth.  I was not wearing any underwear and his warm little
fist wrapped around my throbbing shaft, pumping up and down.

"Am I doing it right, Coach?" He whispered.

"Perfect."

"I can kill myself with a spear, too," Danny told me dreamily.

"You can show me next time."

Danny tried to pump his fist harder but the cutoffs were in his way and he
pushed at them impatiently.  I helped him pull them down, first off my hips
and then the rest of the way, kicking my legs free.  The boy hugged close
and we lay with our naked bodies pressed together, his fingers gliding on
me while I stroked his smooth silky back.

"Feel good?" I asked.

Danny nodded and then whispered, "You can do me."

"I'm going to show you something," I told him.

Rolling him onto his back, I stretched his slender arms up over his head,
kissed and licked his smooth little belly and then slid his long slender
boy stick into my mouth.  Danny moaned, lifting his hips, and his tip
nearly reached the back of my throat.  I curled my tongue around the hard
slick shaft, licked up and down and then withdrew far enough to swirl my
tongue over the swollen tip.  Danny gave a little groan of pleasure.  I
shifted my hips over so my own hard rod was near his mouth and felt him
take it into his little fist.  Then the warmth of a moist little tongue was
on the tip.  His lips touched the head as he experimented with slipping my
straining rod into his mouth.

I reached under his slender thighs and pulled the boy's hips up towards me
letting the full length of his long slender boner push to the very top of
my throat.  I swirled my tongue around the slick shaft.

Suddenly the head and neck of my own hard member was encased in warm moist
softness.  Danny had taken it into his mouth, rubbing with his fist on the
lower part of my shaft.  A thrill shot through me.  My rigid shaft pulsed
and Danny opened his mouth wide, letting the tip of my quivering rod go to
the back of his throat.  I squeezed to contain an urgent surge of pressure,
kept using lips and tongue on his own hard boner and then when I felt
myself nearing the edge again I moved my hips slightly as a signal and
Danny let me slip out of his mouth.  I pulled back off him as well, turned
around and stroked his pretty face.

"Am I doing it good?" he asked, gazing up with a heart-melting look.

"Very, very good," I assured him.  "Now I'll let you practice."

I stretched out on my back and Danny squirmed around to kneel beside me.

"Try it this way," I told him.  "When it gets in your throat, let it go
down like you're swallowing and you can take me all inside."

The boy nodded eagerly.  He bent over, explored my tip with his warm little
tongue and then his head went forward.  My shaft slid into his mouth.  I
felt it when my tip hit the back of his throat and he gagged a little,
pulling back.

"Just like you were swallowing," I encouraged.

Danny tried again, this time extending his neck and I felt his gullet open.
My head slid in deep until more than half my rigid pole was in his mouth.
Danny shuddered, held it for a few heartbeats and then slowly withdrew.
Eyes closed in concentration he kept my blunt tip in his mouth and took
some breaths through his nose before extending his neck to ease forward
once more.  This time when he gagged he held me in place, controlling it,
and then with a slow push let my entire length slide into his throat.

The sensation was incredible.  Danny's face was pressed to my groin, his
lips closed around the base of my shaft and my rigid hardness locked in
tight moist heat.  I had never felt anything like it.  My hips arched up to
meet him and I groaned in pleasure.

Danny held himself down on me until his body shuddered again and then
pulled up and off.  As his lips and tongue glided over my hard shaft I
jerked, nearly letting go and had to squeeze desperately to contain a
release.

"Like that, Coach?" he asked, panting.

"Oh, yeah..."

I was panting as well, eyes closed as I fought for control.  "Oh, yeah...
Fantastic, Danny..."  I took his hand and put it on my throbbing rod.
"Rub," I pleaded.  "Rub fast."

The boy pumped with his little fist, brushing fingers on my tip, and a tide
rolled over me, bucking my hips.

"Uhhhhhh..."  I squeezed my butt.  "Yeah...  Keep rubbing...  Ah...
Faster...  Faster...  I'm gonna' cum...  Ahhhhhhhh..."

The boy pumped frantically and waves of pressure made me arch up.  Droplets
rolled off my tip running down over Danny's sliding fist.  A sudden
powerful contraction throbbed in my shaft and then the surge broke through.
I jerked, hips bucking, spurting arc after arc of semen onto chest, belly
and Danny's pumping fingers as the pulsing went on and on.

At last the contractions eased.  My tip became sensitive and I reached down
to hold Danny's fist, struggling to sit up.

"Quick!" I told the boy.  "Don't waste it!" I scraped up some of the white
fluid and held it out of my finger.  "Lick it up.  It makes you strong.  It
doesn't taste bad...  See?"

Danny pulled my finger to his lips, licked cautiously, sucked everything
off and then bent down to lap at the strands of semen on my chest and
belly.

"Yeah!" I told him.  "Get it all.  It makes you strong."

The boy licked me clean and then put his mouth over my still throbbing
member to milk the drops still oozing from the slit.

"Yeah, Danny..."  I stroked his sides and silky butt while he finished and
then took him into my arms.  The boy pressed his slender little body to me
and hugged close.

"Was that right, Coach?  Did I do it right?"

"That was perfect."  My palms slid over the satin of his back and
shoulders.  "Next time I'll show you how to take me in your mouth so you
can swallow it all when I shoot."

"I can do that, Coach," Danny told me confidently.

I hugged him tightly, loving the feel of his smooth firm little body
against my skin.

"Coach, why can't I make that stuff?"

"You're not old enough yet.  But if you take mine, you'll get bigger."

Danny stirred excitedly and as I patted the curve of his little rounded
butt he tightened it and I felt his long hard boy stick push into my
stomach.

"Let's try something," I told him.

Putting the boy on his back I drew his knees up and pushed them down by his
head, rolling him into a little ball.

"See if you can put your boner in your mouth," I told him.

With a giggle Danny slid hands behind his knees, pulled his groin to his
open mouth and then, bending double, slipped the full length of his stiff
rod between his lips.  Eyes widening in excitement he sucked and licked
while I admired his stretched ass.

"Nice going, Little Ace."

With a fingertip I rimmed his dainty pink opening.  The dimpled ring was
tight and perfectly symmetric.  It winked, tightening reflexively when I
stroked across it and Danny moaned, cheeks working as he sucked himself.

Reaching under the bed I got a bottle of Hawaiian Tropic tanning lotion,
squirted a generous amount on my fingers and spread it around Danny's
clenched hole.  The boy moaned again as I pushed an oiled fingertip into
the tight ring and I saw him strain to pull his knees even further back.
Gradually the full length of my finger sank in and I twisted it around,
probing Danny's hot sweetness for the nub at the base of his jutting
branch.  The boy moaned when I found it and tongued himself while my
fingertip slid back and forth over the tiny swelling.

At last I slowly pulled my finger out and Danny uncoiled, stretching out
with his eyes closed and lips slightly parted.  I spread more of the oily
Hawaiian Tropic on his boner, leaned back against the bed pillows and
pulled the unresisting boy onto my lap.  Rubbing his slick shaft with one
hand I reached around his slender left thigh with the other and pushed into
his butt crease to enter him again using two fingers.  Danny groaned,
pulling his head back to arch as my fingers thrust deep and found his nub
once more.  He shuddered as I rubbed it and his tight ring loosened,
allowing me to push in even further.  Then he was twisting and writhing
under my hand, sensation flooding through him.

He pulled up his other leg, straining his slender thighs apart to open
himself even more and his hips began to thrust.  When I pumped harder,
fingers sliding on his long slick rod, brushing the sensitive little head
at the top of each stroke, he moaned and his hips bucked in tiny quick
jerks.  Then his ring tightened painfully around my fingers as he squeezed,
trying to arch up.  He gave a little high-pitched cry, jerked, lower legs
kicking; then his hard shaft was throbbing in rapid little pulses, drops of
milky fluid rolling off its tip.  I moved my fingers inside him and he gave
another little cry.  Bucking, arching and kicking he jerked again, more
throbs pulsing in his rigid shaft.

Finally the contractions passed and as I slowed the rhythm of my stroking
Danny relaxed.  His drawn up legs sagged apart.  I let my fingers slide out
of his ring and turned him, taking the boy into my arms so he could snuggle
close with his head on my shoulder.

"Nice?"  I asked softly.

Danny nodded and hugged tightly while I caressed his silky smooth back and
glossy butt.

"Coach, can I come over next Saturday?"  He asked anxiously.

"You can come whenever you want."

He wiggled against me and squirmed to rub his long still-rigid boy rod on
my stomach.

"Do it again," he pleaded.

"I will," I told him.  "If you promise to do extra fielding drill with me
right after."

"OK," he said eagerly.  "I promise."

So that's how we finished off our Saturday.  I hugged Danny's slender
little body and penetrated him once again with my fingers while he
shuddered with pleasure.  Then he and I got dressed and drove back to the
field where I hit him ground ball after ground ball at second base, making
him repeat the litany of the infielder with each one.

"What's the first job?" I would call out, and Danny would answer in his
high piping voice.

"Stop the ball any way you can."

"What's the second?"

"Control the ball!"

"And the final job?"

"Make the play, Coach!"  Danny would yell triumphantly, throwing to the
backstop.

I was so proud of my Little Ace that tears came to my eyes.

[ To Be Continued In Parts C,D,E and F ]

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
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