Mayfield Titans

CHAPTER 69

FOUR DAYS IN MAY

 

FRIDAY, MAY 22

 

 Aiden groaned when his alarm went off. His groggy mind wondered whose idea it was to set his alarm for 7:15 on the first day of a four-day holiday. As he came fully awake, he realized it was because he and his dads had to pick up Nolan and get to the Centralia station in time to catch the 10:00 Cascades for Seattle.

 

Aiden and Nolan had talked about Aiden going to Nolan’s house after the game to spend the night. Nolan pointed out that his parents were both working Friday morning, so he had no transportation to the Centralia station. He and Aiden also agreed that, after winning the championship, Aiden should be on the team bus after his game to celebrate on the ride back to Mayfield. It didn’t occur to them that the Mayfield Titans might lose the championship game.

 

“Think about it, Sweet Cakes,” Nolan said, “Thursday is your time with baseball and your teammates. After the bus ride, you spend the night with your stuffed donkey…”

 

“Horace,” Aiden reminded him.

 

“Yeah, you spend the night with Horace, and then you and your dads pick me up, take us to the train station, and we’re off to Seattle.” Nolan and Aiden were heading to Seattle for the big Cousin Dozen Blowout that had been planned by Aiden’s cousins. The Blowout was scheduled to run from Friday afternoon through Monday morning. They had planned a lot of diverse activities, including a Mariners game and a barbeque. With six cousins attending and each of them inviting a friend, twelve boys would be spending the Memorial Day weekend together. The Big Blowout promised to be a great time.

 

With his mind cleared, Aiden hopped out of bed, placed Horace on his shelf above his desk, and headed for the shower. After showering and dressing, he headed downstairs for breakfast and found Larry waiting for him. While the day was a school holiday, it was not a government holiday and Phil had left for work. Aiden and Larry talked about baseball as well as Aiden’s upcoming weekend. Before Aiden knew it, he had tossed a carry-on suitcase into the Acura’s trunk, and buckled himself into the backseat.

 

“What’s with the suitcase?” Larry asked. “Are you planning on moving in with your cousins?”

 

“Daaaad, don’t be silly,” Aiden responded impatiently. “This is a three-night sleepover and I plan on changing my socks and underwear and I’m not wearing the same shorts and t-shirt the whole weekend. Plus, I might need long pants and a hoodie, since it might be cool at the ballpark. And you know you need Mariner gear to wear on Sunday.”

 

“Okay, okay, I think I got it. I’ll cease being silly until at least Tuesday.”

 

“Daaaaaaaad!”

 

Larry backed out of the driveway, fighting hard to stifle his urge to break out into laughter.

 

When they arrived at Nolan’s, he was ready for them. He ran out with a carry-on, which he tossed into the trunk, which Larry had popped open, and then buckled in next to Aiden. The two exchanged a quick kiss.

 

“Well, I’m glad I’m not the only one packing for more than one night,” Aiden said. His comment was directed at Larry as much as it was at Nolan.

 

“A guy’s gotta look good when he’s spending a four-day weekend with his boyfriend. Plus, I’ve got Mariner gear to wear to the game on Sunday.”

 

“GMTA.” Aiden then planted a somewhat longer kiss on Nolan’s lips.

 

“You’d think I was going away for a month the way my mom was carrying on,” Nolan groused after they broke the kiss and settled back.

 

“It’s your mom’s way of letting you know she loves you,” Larry said.

 

“Whatever.”

 

“At least she let you go,” Aiden said.

 

“Well, there is that.”

 

They arrived at the Centralia station at 9:35 and were soon waving at Larry from the Bistro Car as their Cascades pulled out of the Centralia station on time. For the two boyfriends, the Cousin Dozen Blowout had begun.

 

 

 

Like most of the county judges, Paul had scheduled his pre-holiday court docket so that hearings and trials would be adjourned by two-thirty, allowing the court employees to end their day early. After adjourning family court, Paul retired to his chambers and finished up some paperwork. Anything he couldn’t finish would wait until Tuesday when his administrative assistant would be back at work.

 

Paul was out of the courthouse by three-thirty and home before four. Vivian had said she would be home before five. The two had seven o’clock reservations at Porter’s Steak House. They were looking forward to a long weekend at home with just the two of them.

 

After they gave Nolan permission to go to Seattle with Aiden for a big party being put on by the Miller family boys, Vivian had promised Paul she would not spend the weekend wondering if Nolan was behaving himself in the crowd of a dozen adolescent boys.

 

“I know that with much of the gala happening at the home of the King County Prosecutor that drugs and alcohol won’t be part of this fest,” Vivian had said. “And, yes, Paul, I know I should learn to trust my son and his friends, and I promise to do so the entire weekend. As for the sex, well, as you say, whatever they do will be adolescent sex play and none of the party goers is going to get pregnant. So, how about you and I have fun, and we’ll take precautions to see that I don’t get pregnant.”

 

“You don’t want a surprise daughter?” Paul chuckled.

 

“Sweetheart, I don’t want a surprise anything. But that won’t stop us from having a fling. If our son can spend the weekend fucking, then so can we.”

 

Paul grinned at the image of his randy wife talking about spending a weekend fucking, and he knew she was serious. Paul checked the mailbox, which contained a judicial magazine he subscribed to and a letter from the county planning department. Even though he knew what the subject of the letter would be, he did not yet know the details. He had a feeling he wouldn’t like what the letter had to say. He thought about sliding it into his top desk drawer and reading it the next day to not upset his wife before their big dinner out. He opened the drawer and changed his mind.

 

For better or for worse he and Vivian had always been open with each other. That openness had become touch and go for a while as a result of their son, who was barely into his teens, coming out as gay and admitting to having a boyfriend. Vivian had taken the news hard. He had been surprised at her closed mindedness, but in the process he was also reminded why he loved her so much as she fought her own prejudices and started to become more accepting of the situation.

 

When he entered the rec room, Paul noted that the message light on the home phone was blinking. He picked up the handset, entered the entry code and was greeted by the voice of Larry Sanders. “Hi, Paul, Larry here, in case you couldn’t guess. Phil and I thought that with our sons away for the weekend you and Vivian might want to spend the afternoon at our lakeside estate for some visiting, boating, or a dip in the pool, which underwent its annual spring maintenance today. Phil has ribs ready for barbecuing if that appeals to you. Let me know what you decide as soon as you can.”

 

Paul grinned. With all the Mayfield friends Larry and Phil had, he felt honored that they asked him and Vivian for dinner and to take the first dips in the pool. It was almost as if the in-laws were being invited. He’d wait for Vivian to come home before replying, but he was confident she would agree to the afternoon visit. Maybe having dinner with the gay dads of Nolan’s boyfriend might help open Vivian’s mind even more. Certain that she would agree, Paul cancelled their dinner reservation at Porter’s.

 

Paul sat at his desk and opened the letter. What he read was close to what he had predicted. The letter was from the county planning department which was part of the Lewis County Assessor’s office. It addressed the undeveloped property across the street from the Moyer residence. It made the rumors he had heard official—the property had been sold to a developer and had been platted for 40 houses. They would be of high-quality construction on larger than minimum lots. The bad news was that the meadow and woods would be gone along with the wildlife that lived there. It would change the entire feel of the neighborhood, not to mention the town of Meadow Park.

 

Paul and Vivian had led campaigns to convince the city to convert the land to a park and wildlife preserve, but the town council seemed more interested in the added property tax revenue that developing the property would bring than they were to spending tax dollars on a park for the community.

 

For the last couple of years, Paul and Vivian had discussed the possibility of some of the land being developed, but when the announcement that Cascade Car and Foundry would be opening a plant in Centralia was made, they feared that instead of a small development of six to ten houses, a much larger development would be proposed. Paul realized that he and Vivian would have to discuss whether they would maintain the status quo and remain where they were or put the house up for sale and move. One big factor to consider was that Nolan had lived in the house his entire life. Paul could see that he and Vivian had a lot to discuss.

 

 

 

Mac spent most of the day doing the chores his father had laid out. The biggest one was mowing the front and back yards. Edgar, his father, was amazed that his son hadn’t put up any kind of argument regarding his work schedule. The only thing Mac asked was that he be allowed to finish by three because he was invited to have dinner and spend the night at Trent’s.

 

Edgar gave credit to baseball for his son’s turnaround during the spring. Not just the sport itself, but the coaches and, just as importantly, Mac’s teammates. The boys Mac was now calling his friends were a far cry from the scumbags he had been running around with. Edgar felt comfortable thinking of them as scumbags because he had been a scumbag just like them as a young teen.

 

Mac was finished with everything on his list of chores by two-thirty. He had just finished emptying the last bag of grass clippings onto the compost pile when Zane, Russell, Jared, and Roger entered the back yard. Mac was wearing nothing but gym shorts, socks, and an old pair of trainers.

 

“Hey, Mac, what did you do to get the old man to make you his slave for the day?” Zane asked.

 

“Nothing. I had nothing else to do today and told dad I’d do whatever chores he had for me as long as I was done by three,” Mac answered.

 

“Shit, dude, you really have lost your mind,” Russell said. “My old man ain’t gonna get me mowing the lawn without me at least putting up a fight.”

 

“Whatcha got going tonight?” Zane asked Mac.

 

“I’m having dinner at Trent’s and spending the night.”

 

“Shit, who wants to be around that fucker, who thinks his shit doesn’t stink, for a night?” Jared asked. “He pissed me off almost every practice with his attitude. ‘You gotta hustle harder, Jared. Get your uniform dirty, Jared.  Be a winner, Jared.’ Who the fuck did he think he was, anyway?”

 

“The team captain, maybe?” Mac retorted.

 

“Jared is stoned, so don’t pay any attention to him,” Roger said.

 

“And you’re not?” Jared countered.

 

“Jared’s got some good shit on him if you want a take a hit or two.”

 

Jared pulled a bag of weed out of his knapsack. “Bought it off Duncan and don’t ask me where he got it.”

 

“He got a good deal, too,” Zane said. “Big discount cuz he let the scuzz fuck his ass.”

 

“He’s lying,” Jared whined. “Everybody knows I don’t give my ass to nobody and that’s the truth.”

 

“Right, except when there’s a big sale on weed by Duncan and Vance who are total pervs.” Jared turned his back on the group to hide his red-faced shame.

 

“So how about you rewarding yourself for your hard work by taking a few hits with us,” Roger told Mac. “There’s plenty more where this came from.”

 

“I got a good idea. How about you taking that shit outta my yard and get stoned someplace else,” Mac said forcefully.

 

Zane stepped up to Mac and looked down at him. “You were cool when you moved here. You got beers for us and partied with us and got stoned with us and now you’re like the rest of those homos on the fucking Titans baseball team. Oh, excuse me, the league champion Titans. Champions my ass. Wait till you get to high school next year you won’t make it for five minutes. You assholes will get eaten alive—you gotta be a man to play for the Mustangs. Coach Sanders would shit if he knew how much beer and weed and other shit guys on his baseball team use, and that includes me. I’d rather be stoned all day than a fucking champion so what do you think of that shit?” Zane poked his finger in Mac’s bare chest. “Jared’s gonna be our boy next year even if he does let Duncan and Vance fuck him. Cheap weed is cheap weed. So come to my party tonight and show what kind of man you are.”

 

“Get your finger off me,” Mac said calmly.

 

“Want me to put it where Trent puts his instead?” Zane smirked. He dropped his hand down and grabbed Mac’s cock. “You and Trent like this shit, don’t you?” He started to work his hand up and into Mac’s shorts.

 

“I asked you nicely not to touch me,” Mac stated quietly.

 

“Or what?”

 

“Or this.” Mac’s right fist plowed into Zane’s soft gut, knocking him back. Zane stumbled then fell on his ass. Mac stood over him and stared directly into his face. “I asked nicely—twice,” he said. “Now, all four of you can move your asses out of my yard and don’t bother showing them here again. And for a dude who says he’s a good catcher, you sure got a soft gut.”

 

Mac held out his hand in an offer to help Zane get back on his feet. Zane wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. He stood up on his own, fighting some to get his breath back. “You’re fucked, Dixon. I got two more years left at the high school and your life there is gonna be hell. And don’t even think about taking my spot as a catcher cuz you ain’t good enough to catch a cold.” He waved to his buddies and pointed to the gate to the front yard. “Come on dudes, let’s let the queer boy think about what he’s gonna do with his boyfriend tonight.”

 

Zane headed out of the yard. Russell and Roger followed dutifully behind them, but Jared surprised him by hanging back. “Nice gut shot,” he told Mac. “Fucker was too big a wimp to hit you back. He’s all talk.”

 

“So why do you hang with those guys?”

 

“Because getting fucked up with them is fun.” Jared turned and followed his so-called friends out of the yard.

 

As Mac put the yard equipment away, he thought about what Jared had said about Zane. Mac had been as surprised as anybody when Zane didn’t decide to continue the fight after he got up from the ground. It was one punch and the fight was over. Mac wondered if Zane was really what Jared said he was—a wuss who was all talk. He would have to ask Trent.

 

He pulled off his gym shorts and boxer briefs and walked naked from the shed to the house, enjoying his moment of being naked in the sun. He thought about jerking off while he showered, but he wanted to save his cum for Trent. It wasn’t that he was gay or that Trent was gay. They were what they said they were: two straight boys who were friends and who liked getting each other off. Mac hoped that two straight boys could fuck without it being gay. He was certain he’d find that out sometime that night. He got dressed, hollered to his dad that he was leaving, grabbed his backpack, and headed for Trent’s house.

 

Trent was wearing a t-shirt, gym shorts, and flipflops when he answered the doorbell. He grinned when he saw Mac and gave him a hug. Trent and Mac agreed that hugs were okay between friends, but not kisses, unless they were having sex, and even then they should try to avoid them. The hug from Trent felt exceptionally good to Mac.

 

Mac was wearing a pair of jeans shorts, a Mayfield Titans t-shirt, white socks, and trainers. He felt overdressed and wished he had worn something close to what he mowed the yard in. Same style, but clean, with no sweat and body odor.

 

Trent swept his right arm in the direction of the front doorway. “Well, come on and get your ass into my house,” he grinned.

 

Mac quietly entered the house as he battled the thoughts roiling through his mind. He was troubled by what had happened in his backyard and wondered how much he should tell Trent.

 

Trent could see that something was troubling his friend. “Set your backpack in the hall for now and let’s sit out on the patio,” Trent said. Mac dropped his backpack and followed Trent through the sliding glass door to the patio. Trent sat on the swinging couch and patted the seat next to him.

 

“So, what’s bugging you right now?” Trent asked.

 

“What makes you think something’s bugging me?” Mac asked.

 

“Dude, we haven’t been friends all that long, but I’ve learned that you’re usually a chatterbox when we get together, and you’re as quiet as a test in Miss Ramon’s Spanish class right now.”

 

Mac knew that Trent was right. He cursed himself for being so obvious but decided that Trent deserved to know what had happened in his yard since his name had come up a few times.

 

“Yeah, well, things got kinda shitty at my house about an hour ago,” Mac said. “I just finished doing the lawn when Zane, Roger, Russell, and Jared came into the backyard.”

 

“Hmm…those guys are the definition of losers times four, although I think there is hope for Jared. So, what did the assholes want?”

 

Mac gave Trent a summary of the confrontation on the lawn, including the negative things said about Trent. “I thought for sure after I punched Zane that there was gonna be a fight, but Zane didn’t even try to hit me back.”

 

“Tough to hit somebody when you’re on the ground after being knocked on your ass.”

 

“Still, he’s a fucking sophomore and way bigger than me,” Mac pointed out. “Plus, he had his three flunkies backing him up. But he didn’t do shit. And damn, he’s getting fat.”

 

“Too much beer and too many munchies,” Trent speculated. 

 

Mac told Trent what Jared had said about Zane being a big soft wuss who was all talk. “There’s something weird about him when he’s bigger and older than me with a 4-1 advantage and still didn’t even try to hit me back. Believe me, I was ready for something.”

 

“I think Jared was right,” Trent said. “Zane is a bag of hot air. And I also think Jared is somebody who wants to do the right thing, except…”

 

“…except he likes getting drunk and high,” Mac finished. “Too bad there’s not a way to get him going to those Fourth Dimension meetings some of the guys are going to.”

 

“What about the No Matter What Club?”

 

“He’s totally not going to sign that as long as Zane and those guys all but own him.”

 

“Didn’t you say the same thing not long ago?” Trent asked in a you-know-you-did tone of voice.

 

“Well, I don’t think anybody owned me the way Jared is owned. You should see him—he all but licks their asses when he’s around them. I’m surprised he stayed back and talked to me. And that reminds me of something else that was said.” Mac told Trent about Zane’s comments on what Jared did for Duncan and Vance to get his supply of weed. “I’ll tell you this, dude. If I go back to being the asshole I was when you guys made me join the No Matter What Club, you have my permission to punch me even harder than I punched Zane.”

 

“Do you promise not to hit back?” Trent grinned.

 

“Well…you do it at your own risk.”

 

“It might just be worth it. But I hope you never even think of going back there. If you weren’t the best catcher in the Seamount League the last half the season, I don’t know where we would be. And totally know you have become one of my absolute very best friends ever and don’t you forget it.”

 

Trent and Mac heard the sliding glass door open. “Hey guys, are you two making out on the patio again?” Jackson asked. “People are going to seriously think you’re boyfriends the way things are going.”

 

“What do you think?” Trent asked.

 

“I think you’re two horny thirteen-year-old best friends who have to get off every time you see each other.”

 

“You are the expert on horniness.”

 

“When are we going to have our orgy with the girls?” Mac asked.

 

“I’m afraid to have it—it probably would end up with you two fucking each other instead of the girls,” Jackson chuckled.

 

“Read my lips bro—Trent and Mackenzie are NOT gay,” Trent said.

 

Jackson cupped his right hand behind his right ear. “I don’t think I quite heard the word between ‘are’ and ‘gay’. Now, how about you guys share a nice long deep kiss while I’m watching—I get turned on when my baby brother gets his horns up.”

 

“You are one sick perv, big bro.”

 

“Guilty as charged.”

 

Trent looked directly at Mac and nodded his head toward Jackson. Mac read his friend’s mind perfectly and nodded. Trent leaned toward Mac and kissed him on his lips. Mac opened his mouth slightly and Trent pushed his tongue inside. Jackson’s attention was riveted on watching his younger brother and Mac exchanging a long, deep, wet kiss. When the two thirteen-year-olds finally came up for air, Trent turned to his brother. “That was for you dude.” Then he turned to Mac and said, “I bet my pervy bro enjoyed every moment of it.”

 

“You got that straight,” Jackson said. “Plus, it’s proof you guys aren’t gay.”

 

“How?”

 

“If you were gay, you would have had your hands in each other’s pants.”

 

“Damn, how did I miss doing that?” Mac grinned. 

 

“To change the subject, do you know where mom is?” Trent asked. “I mean we do have company here for dinner.”

 

The question was answered by the sound of a car entering the driveway. Martha Hallion was soon on the patio asking the boys to help bring the groceries in from the car.

 

“What’s for dinner and when?” Trent asked.

 

“Just the question I expected from a young teenager. Dinner is fish and chips with coleslaw and dinner will happen faster if you guys hustle in the groceries.”

 

“Is dinner all you can eat?”

 

“Trent, just bring in the groceries and let the rest speak for itself,” Martha answered with a hint of exasperation.

 

James Hallion arrived home from work in time to help the boys set the table. “It’s good to feel useful at dinner time,” James said as he set out the silverware.

 

“Your paycheck is useful to us,” Jackson grinned.

 

“Except your mom did the grocery shopping.”

 

“I thought you two pooled your paychecks.”

 

“We do, but I was thinking in terms of the work needed for dinner.”

 

“So was I, dad, so was I.”

 

After dessert, all three boys retired to Trent’s room to play video games until the Mariners game started.  “Don’t tell me you two are going keep your pants on after your hot and heavy petting before dinner?” Jackson smirked after he stepped out of his shorts and flopped down on his brother’s bed. 

 

“We told you, we were busy talking about something before dinner,” Trent protested for what seemed like the one hundredth time.

 

“Sex?”

 

“No, Zane Davidson.”

 

“How did you guys end up talking about that asshole?” Mac gave Jackson the abridged version of the confrontation in this backyard. “And you really punched him in the breadbasket?” Mac nodded.

 

“And Zane took it without even trying to get him back,” Trent pointed out.

 

“There’s a couple of things you guys need to know about Zane. First, I have no clue why Coach Sanders keeps him around. He’s a shitty catcher and a shitty person, not to mention a total fuck up. So, Coach Sanders must like him for something.”

 

“I heard Zane’s on the Sentinels,” Mac said. The Sentinels were the Mayfield seventeen and under team. They had undergone a total makeover from the summer before with a new name, new uniforms, and a new coach.

 

“Unfortunately, you heard right since I have to practice and play with him. At least our coach has no problem with kicking ass during practice or it could be worse. Coach Gilbert has been around for a while.”

 

The coach of the Sentinels was Tyson Gilbert. He was a retired teacher and coach who had decided to retire to the quiet of small-town Mayfield. Then he got to know Larry and Phil who persuaded him to take over the Sentinels for a summer or two.

 

“By then I’ll have a couple of former players who will be out of college and maybe able to coach a season or two,” Larry had told Tyson. “And Coach Hallion indicated his willingness to coach his younger son, who will be an upperclassman by then.” Coach Gilbert was agreeable, even though he and Larry weren’t fooling each other. They both knew that often summer programs were staffed a year at a time. The coaches often had lives beyond the sports they coached. Also, many of them were coaches in order to coach their son’s team. Larry considered himself fortunate that his husband was a top-notch coach who would be coaching the 14-and-under Dynamos.

 

After the talk about Mac’s altercation with Zane, and his minions, died out, Jackson stuck his hand inside of his boxer shorts and started playing with his rising cock. “Aren’t you guys gonna start playing your game?” Jackson asked.

 

“It’s hard to do when there’s this big ass high school almost senior half naked on my bed stroking his meat,” Trent said.

 

“I’m just showing you little boys how it’s done. Since you guys are new to being teenagers and all, a review of the basics won’t hurt.”

 

“The main thing I know about jacking off is that it goes way better if you take your cock out of your underpants.”

 

“But sometimes when you’re in the back of the classroom listening to a boring lecture and your pride and       joy is inflated to its full length you might have to get it done inside your pants. A little practice doesn’t hurt.”

 

Mac listened to the back-and-forth dialog between the brothers and decided it was time for him to step in. “No offense, dude. I mean I know you’re older and more experienced than us, but if all you’re wearing in class is a pair of underpants then you must be going to a way different school than the one we attend.”

 

“Of course, I do—I go to a high school and you two little boys go to a middle school. But I have to agree that I wouldn’t be sitting in the back of the room with my pants pulled down, but I have them off in this case to demonstrate the technique needed so you can spooge into your underpants when you’re horny in the back of a classroom.”

 

“I bet when you see my very proper brother at the Mayfield Baseball Club you never imagine him jerking off in class,” Trent told Mac.

 

“That’s because he never has, but he knows his story turns us on,” Mac smirked.

 

“Snagged,” Jackson chuckled. “Good job, Mac. I’ve thought about it a few times, though. So, what’s your story—have you done it?”

 

“Once in sixth grade and twice in seventh grade Social Studies. And no matter what you want to think, I kept my pants on and zipped. It was pocket pool all the way. What about you Trent?”

 

“I’ve done it as many times as my brother. But, damn, I can see I might have to try it before I leave middle school,” Trent said.

 

“That only gives you a couple of weeks.”

 

“I’ll do it if you do it.”

 

“Deal.” The boys did a sacred pinkie shake on it.

 

The talking ended when Jackson pulled down his underpants, pulled up his t-shirt to expose his chest and belly, and quickly finished what he started. Mac was impressed by the size of Jackson’s man-sized penis as well as the volume of cum he shot out of it. “Let me use one of your cum rags, bro,” Jackson said after he caught his breath.

 

“There’s a fresh one under the bed in the usual place,” Trent said.

 

Jackson reached down and pulled out a pair of black boxers. “How do I know this doesn’t have skid marks on it?”

 

“Because it’s totally clean. I haven’t worn it since it’s been washed.”

 

“That works for me.” Jackson wiped the cum off his chest and belly and deftly tossed the boxers into Trent’s hamper.

 

“Nice shot. Now, get your ass out of my room cuz my catcher and I have business to take care of,” Trent told his brother.

 

“Yes, sir.” Jackson looked over to Mac. “My baby bro is good in bed and will take excellent care of you. He’ll make you happy you lost that bet.”

 

“Dude, I am more than happy I lost the bet, even if it means losing my cherry, too.”

 

“That’s got to be one of the craziest bets I’ve ever heard, but I guess it makes you boys happy. Next time, I get to watch though.”

 

“Next time you get to make it a three-way,” Mac grinned.

 

“Deal,” Jackson said as he pulled up his underpants. “You boys have fun. I want a full report.” Jackson left the room. Trent and Mac took his place on the bed.

 

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I just want you to know that,” Trent said.

 

“I want to do it. Your catcher made a deal with you and your catcher doesn’t back down just because it’s something that might hurt. So, let’s do it.”

 

What the friends were discussing was the deal Mac had made with Trent before the Monte game. Mac had told Trent that if he pitched a complete game shutout against Monte, he would let Trent take his cherry. While Mac had told himself numerous times that it wasn’t the smartest deal he had ever made, there was no way he was going to back down from it. He would be catching Trent in summer ball and he hoped the two of them would be a pitcher/catcher battery throughout their four years of high school. Mac knew Trent would remain a loyal friend no matter what he decided. What was about to happen on Trent’s bed was more about their relationship on the ballfield than about their friendship. Mac was ready to show Trent that if he was willing to go to any length for him in his bedroom, there would be no doubt that he would do so on the baseball field. Mac knew that Trent had told Jackson what was about to happen and why, and he was cool with it.

 

Mac and Trent had discussed the process and what Trent would be doing. Trent had told Mac how loosening up his ass with his fingers while he jerked off would help. They discussed positioning and what they would and wouldn’t be doing.

 

“No kissing,” Mac had insisted during their last talk about the payoff last week.

 

“You got it,” Trent had responded. “This is all about business.”

 

With that in mind, the friends and batterymates stripped naked and lay on Trent’s bed next to each other, making sure their bodies touched. They petted their partner’s chest and belly. They played with each other’s cocks and balls for a while. Mac found himself wishing he had agreed to kissing because he had an overwhelming urge to kiss Trent—not because Trent was a sexy boy but because it felt like the right thing to do before fucking.

 

Mac was soon watching Trent lube his cock. Once Trent finished, Mac presented his ass for lubing. The throbbing cocks of the thirteen-year-olds were leaking precum—the time for action had come. Trent’s intercourse experience consisted of going both ways with Miles, Mason, and Jackson, topping Scott and fucking Brittany. Mac was a virgin with boys, although when he had been drunk he’d made failed attempts at anal sex with a boy. He’d had his cock in more than one girl’s pussy, but the act was never consummated, and he had never tried fucking a girl in the ass, at least as far as he could remember.

 

Now the real thing was going to happen. He was going to do it sober and was going to remember all of it. As a result, he planned to savor every sensation and live every second of the act to the fullest.

 

Trent’s five-inch cock was bigger than anything he’d ever had in his ass, which didn’t surprise him. What surprised him was that even though there was some pain, the carnal feelings overcame much of the pain. The pain was tolerable, and the pleasurable feelings were overwhelming. Trent was holding back, taking it easy on Mac’s virgin ass while at the same time fucking him hard enough to send waves of delight soaring through him. Mac wasn’t at the stage of pleasure where a spontaneous orgasm would occur, but the feelings leading to orgasm were building up in him.

 

“Damn, you’ve got a hot, tight ass---fuck you feel so good,” Trent intoned as his cock moved in and out of the depths of Mac’s ass, tickling the virgin’s sweet spot on almost every thrust. As Mac grew used to the presence of Trent inside him the discomfort seemed to fade away.

 

Despite Mac insisting on no kissing, Trent stopped, leaned into Mac, and planted a kiss on his lips that was willingly received. Their tongues battled for a couple of minutes until Trent went back to fucking.

 

The kissing had brought Mac so close to the edge that it didn’t take long for him to cry out, “Ohhhhhhhhhhhh, fuck, Trent, I’m gonna cum.”

 

“Me too, dude, me toooooooooo…ohhhhhhhhh fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.”

 

And then the seemingly impossible happened as Trent plowed Mac deep, filling his ass with his cum and Mac followed up in seconds by squirting his load over Trent and himself. Two experienced sexual partners couldn’t have done it better.

 

Fifteen minutes later, the boys were clean and recovered. They shared little about their experience as they went about business. That changed as the two naked teens snuggled under the blankets of Trent’s bed.

 

“What did you think?” Trent asked.

 

“I thought it would be gross, and in a way it was. I thought it would hurt and it did but then it kept getting better. I thought it would be, like, totally gay, but it was just us being best friends and battery mates. It was like you were pitching to me until I caught what you were firing in my ass,” Mac answered.

 

“When did you become a fucking poet?”

 

“When you made me feel like a special friend,” Mac replied.

 

“Do you think you’ll do it again?”

 

“Oh, hell ya. I want your ass next. And then maybe look for some pussy.”

 

“But next time we keep to the no kissing rule,” Trent said.

 

“Exactly. No kissing.” Not that either one of them was thinking about taking the rule seriously.

 

Nobody had forbidden cuddling, however, and the two teens snuggled close, enjoying the warmth and smoothness of their friend’s skin. They each fell into a guilt-free, deep sleep. They had forgotten all about the Mariners game.

 

Next: Four Days in May-2