One Summer – Three Stories (M/F)

Postby LordNelson » Sun Jan 19, 2014 11:03 am

For many years I coached minor baseball teams. I had one particular team of boys that I coached for five years until they were too old for the minor leagues. After that I decided to take a year off from coaching and volunteered to be the Umpire-in-Chief. My duties included scheduling, recruiting and training new umpires and supervising games.

Story One

One of my new recruits was the first ever female umpire in our league. Julie was 17 (one year too old to play), very pretty and she had a nice figure. She was a smart girl who learned quickly. Having played for a few years she was familiar with the game and only needed to be shown proper positioning on the field. I supervised her for a few games and she was doing well. Her first big test was an all-day tournament at the youngest age division (9 & 10 years old).

At the tournament she did two games in the morning. Our complex has five fields and I was circulating from field to field checking up on my umpires. One of my duties that day was to hand out lunch vouchers to the umpires. My last voucher was for Julie and then I went for lunch myself.

I was sitting in the picnic area with a hot dog and a can of root beer when Julie came along with her lunch and sat with me. The first interesting thing was that even though we had a picnic table to ourselves she sat beside me rather than across from me. The next thing that I found out was that she was a chatter-box who talked with her hands as much as her mouth.

As she ate she gave me a play-by-play summary of all the calls she made in her first two games. With a drink in one hand and a hot dog in the other she waved her arms furiously as she re-created each ruling she had made. She would pause only for a second now and then to take a bite or a sip and then the arms started gesturing again.

Once she was done eating she was able to devote her full attention to waving her arms around and was talking so fast I could barely understand her. Just when I thought she was never going to stop she asked me a question and paused for the answer.

Since she had shown up that morning I had been distracted by her shorts. She was dressed in a grey t-shirt and black shorts as our dress code requires but the shorts had a drawstring with a large bow in front rather than a belt. Me being the person that I am, I spent the morning wondering what she would look like tied up with that drawstring.

I ignored her question and asked her one of my own. ‘Is it possible for you to talk without using your hands?’ ‘Of course it is’ she replied; accompanied by a few appropriate gestures. When she realized what she had done we both laughed. Seeing an opportunity that was too good to pass up I asked her ‘What if I were to keep you from using your hands?’ ‘How would you do that?’ was the answer I wanted to hear.

I reached over, pulled her bow open, crossed her hands in front of her and tied a tight bow to hold them down. She started up right where we left off and asked her question again. I answered it and then she took over finishing her narrative about her games. Even though she had proven that she could talk without her hands she never asked to be untied.

After five minutes of listening to this bound beauty I noticed it was time for her to go to her next game. She continued to talk as she stood up. I got up with her and we started to walk over to the field. We passed a few dozen people along the way and if any of them noticed her restraints they didn’t show it. At the field I pulled the bow again and she shook her hands free and retied it.

As she went on to the field I thought to myself that if it wasn’t for the difference in our age (I was 28) this was a girl that I could have a lot of fun with.

Story Two

A few weeks after taking my break from coaching I received a call from the president of the league. They had accepted registrations for girls and had very few sign up. Rather than put them onto the same teams as the boys they decided to make one team out of all of the girls. This meant 14 girls from 12 to 16 years old. Since it was an experiment for the league they wanted an experienced non-parent coach. They asked me. I told them that if they hadn’t found someone else in a week I would do it. A week later they called back.

On my team were two 14 year olds that were the best of friends. Diane was nicknamed Lady Di by the other girls for her resemblance to Princess Diana. Like Diana she was pretty and had shoulder length straight blond hair but the similarities didn’t end there. She was slim with a nice chest and shapely hips.

Her best friend Sylvie was even better looking. She had short dark hair, an incredibly pretty face and a curvy body like a Playboy Bunny. I still, to this day, consider her to be one of the most beautiful women I have ever met. What made her so looks so exceptional were her cultural origins.

In the early days of European exploration in North America many of the men who came here were from France. They often married native women. Their children were called Métis which is an old French word for mixed. These children had European facial features and the dark skin and raven hair of the natives. Sylvie had Métis roots.

Her hair was as black as black can get and very shiny. Her dark skin had a quality to it that made it seem to glow. Long lashes, eyes as black as coal and full lips made her absolutely gorgeous.

At the end of each practice I would line up the girls in a semi-circle around the infield. I would then bat the ball on the ground at them randomly. The first three girls to fumble or miss would have to help me pick up the equipment and carry it to my car while the others got to leave.

One evening Lady Di was one of them along with Abbey and Teena. Sylvie sat on the player bench with me waiting for Lady Di. The ball Di missed was in the outfield. When she retrieved it she threw it to Sylvie who let it fly right past her. ‘Put it away yourself’ she said ‘it’s not my turn to clean up.’ Di ran in from the field and had to go get it. A she passed by the bench she gave Sylvie a push and she almost fell backwards off of the bench. When Di came back with the ball she tossed into the equipment bag and then went to pick up more. As she passed by the bench Sylvie stuck out her foot and tripped her.

Di got up and pushed her again and before you could blink they were wrestling with each other. It was harmless fun and both were laughing. I certainly have no problem watching two good looking girls wrestle and could have sat there all evening but as a coach I had an obligation to make sure that no one got hurt.

I walked towards them asking them to stop but they ignored me so it looked like I was going to have to get between them. When I was about three feet away Di grabbed Sylvie by the arm and spun her around launching her directly at me. She slammed into me with her back.

I put my arm around her waist to keep her from getting back into it. She tried to slip out by ducking down but her boobs prevented her from getting under my arm. There I stood with my arm around the most beautiful girl I knew, her boobs resting on my arm and her firm ass pressing against my thighs.

Teena shouted out ‘Tie her up!’ I don’t know what made her say that. Was it something from home or the influence of some interesting friends or just a personal preference? I would have liked to have asked her about it later but even back then when the fuss about sexual harassment didn’t exist it wasn’t a good idea for a male coach to dig into the private motivations of young girls.

Abbey joined in and then Di. They were all calling for me to tie her up. As tempting as it was I had to turn her loose and tell them to settle down. They picked up the rest of the gear and packed it into the trunk of my car.

As I watched them ride away on their bicycles I felt a kick in the head. How could I have been so stupid! All I had to do was say ‘Do it yourselves’ and I would have seen that beautiful young lady bound.

Story Three

The oldest girl on my team was Christine. She turned 17 about two weeks into the summer. She had played for five years for her school team so she was the most experienced player I had. She had some difficulty at first. With so many rookie players I was spending a lot of time teaching basic skills which she had already mastered. I didn’t want her to quit out of boredom and in order to keep her interested I made her my assistant coach.

She would help me to run drills and occasionally I would split the team in half and she would run a drill by herself. At games I would coach at third base and she would coach at first when she wasn’t batting. She really enjoyed it and her attitude improved tremendously.

After one practice I noticed her walking home and since she lived two streets over from me I offered her a ride. From then on she would wait for me after practice and games and we would discuss what the team had done, right or wrong, and plan the next practice. The men’s league played after the kids so occasionally I played or just stayed to watch. She didn’t mind staying either. If I wasn’t on the field we sat together and analyzed the game we were watching.

You may have already figured out what was going on. I didn’t then and had no idea until someone else told me months later. She had a crush on me. I have never been very good at reading people and looking back now I can see that all the signs were there but I was oblivious.

One evening after playing a game against a boy’s team we stayed to watch a few innings of the men’s game afterwards. Just before the game started I was called over the PA system and asked to go to the score keeper’s booth. It was on the upper level of small two story building behind the back stop. It had a large open window with a great view of the field, a table and a bench to sit on.

When I went up I was asked if I could keep score. The men’s league was serious about keeping proper statistics and the regular score keeper was unavailable. I said that it would be no problem. I stupidly forgot about Christine.

At the end of the first inning there was a knock at the door. We keep it locked to prevent distractions. I heard her ask if she could come in. We were not supposed to allow anyone in but I felt bad about forgetting her and let her in.

Here’s where I look really dumb. She sat down and slid across the bench until she was right up against me. She asked ‘What are you doing?’ It was quite obvious what I was doing and by asking she made it obvious what she was doing; except to me.

Both pitchers were not very good so there was a lot of action on the field and a lot to keep track of on the score sheet. I could use that as an excuse for my blindness but to be truthful I was an experienced score keeper and was having no trouble keeping up. As I made entries she would point at them to ask me what the notations meant. When she did this she leaned a little harder on me. A few times she actually rubbed up against me. I did notice a rub once and thought it was accidental. I remember thinking “I hope that happens again” but then something happened on the field and I was distracted from her.

The amount of contact she made seemed to keep her happy because she didn’t stop. She was smart enough not to expect anything back from me as long as I was busy but between innings she was doing silly things just to get me to pay attention to her. She would pull the score book away from me to look at it or grab my pen. At one point she even used her leg to push mine over saying that I was taking up too much space. She held her leg against mine until the next inning started.

I must make it clear at this point that because of the nature of our relationship; I mean the coach/player relationship; that nothing would have ever happened between us. I just wish that I hadn’t been so clueless to the fact that she was pursuing something more. Even though I could not have taken advantage of it I would have been quite flattered had I known. As it was when it was pointed out to me later I felt like a total idiot.

As it turned out though, I did manage to accomplish something. Towards the end of the game, as much as I appreciated her company, she was beginning to bug me a little. I told her ‘If you can’t find something else to do with your hands I will.’ She said ‘Like what?’ I looked around for something that I could hand her to keep her occupied until the game was over.

The room was supposed to be kept clean but as usual the floor in the corners was being used as a lost and found. I was trying to see if there was anything like a kid’s toy or something silly that I could give her just to distract her for a while. What I didn’t see is that she was looking in the corner on her side. When I turned around she shoved a dirty sock in my face and said ‘Were you looking for this?’

I grabbed it away from her. It was ball player’s tube sock. This is a long thin white knee sock (in this case not so white). At that point I acted without thinking. I grabbed her wrists and she didn’t resist at all as I tied them in front of her. This was just enough attention from me to keep her happy for another inning.

On the next break she twisted her wrists and the sloppy knot came undone. She pretty much handed me the sock to try again. This time I put her hands behind her and tied it tight enough that she wasn’t getting out on her own. I spotted the other sock and had just enough time to tie her ankles before I had to sit down again.

For the last two innings I had to put up with her bumping and rubbing but at least she wasn’t grabbing things. I drove her home afterwards and we sat in the car in her driveway for about half an hour as she talked. She told me her entire life story in great personal detail. I still didn’t catch on.

Had our association lasted all summer I’m not sure how far she would have gone or how far I would have responded but a week later she got a part time job that often required working evenings. As a result she missed quite a few practices and games. It was at one of those few games that she attended that a female acquaintance of mine noticed her behavior. After the game she asked me ‘How long has the pretty one with the freckles had the hots for you?’

At that moment everything started to make sense and I felt really stupid. I told my acquaintance that ‘She’s just a really nice girl; she’s always that friendly with everyone.’ I’m pretty sure she knew that I was bull shitting but she said nothing. Girls are so smart that she already knew that there was nothing she could say would make me feel any dumber than I already did.