Butterscotch -39- Gameday (Patreon)
Content
“Do you want to get spanked?” Rory asked. He seemed amused.
“No, of course not,” I said quickly but I couldn’t help squirming a bit. Getting spanked wouldn’t hurt, with the padding I wore on my butt, still it could be embarrassing. “Certainly not if you were going to do it in public.” Oh! Maybe I shouldn’t have said that aloud.
“Ah,” he said, watching me from the corner of his eye. “Not too many private places at the ball park.”
“Hmph,” I said.
“Actually,” he said, “I think teasing me about flirting with other guys is already out of line, princess.”
“Is not,” I countered.
“Better watch it, your heinie-ness.”
“Now that’s definitely out of line,” I protested.
He laughed and I made noises, trying not to giggle.
We teased and flirted the rest of the way to Newport Beach. My giggles were getting harder to control when we turned off the freeway and took a short drive into a bit of suburban wilderness ending in the parking lot of a huge sports complex. There were fields for baseball, softball, soccer and football stretching out all around us with courts for basketball, tennis, volleyball and badminton arranged neatly, closer to parking.
“Wow,” I said, impressed. I had somehow got the idea that the game would be played on a field borrowed from a high school or junior college or something. We went under a sign that read, “Orange County Championship Baseball Stadium,” and parked in a reserved area next to a door identified as “Visiting Team Lockers.”
I looked the building over while Rory ran around the truck to help me out. It was three stories tall with the top layer looking like broadcast booths and VIP boxes. Stadium-style seating ran down the field side of the building to just behind home plate and sideways out to first and third on each side.
There were guys out on the field already wearing baseball uniforms, white with blue trim and letters for the home team, the Newport Wave Riders, and gray with red trim and letters for the visiting Torrance Titans.
Rory just might be the cutest guy in sight but he definitely had competition. I giggled at him when he opened my door.
“What?” he said, grinning. “C’mere.” He tried to scoop me off the seat and into a kiss but I was still buckled in. “Oh, I forgot,” he teased. “Princess might break a nail.”
I held my arms up so he could reach the seat belt fastener, then he finished pulling me into a kiss. I had a lot of repressed joy and passion that I put into that kiss and we both needed a deep breath when we finished.
“You’re something else, Kissy,” he whispered to me, before letting my feet touch the ground.
“You, too,” I gasped. “Whoo!” I leaned into him a bit and felt his arousal through several layers of clothing, his and mine. I know I squirmed a bit myself as we stood there, swaying with emotions that wanted release.
“Stop that,” he said.
“Huh?” I looked up at him. He was trying to look serious but failing.
“Stop wiggling against me like that. It’s definitely out of line.” He grinned. “But thinking of giving you a spanking is not helping the problem.”
I got the giggles then and he turned me away from him, putting a bit of distance between us. Then he did swat me lightly on the tush, to which I gave a mild pretend-yelp because it startled me.
“Meanie,” I pouted at him as he retrieved my big hat and purse from the cab of the truck before getting a white canvas duffle of his stuff from the backseat.
He just laughed. “Let me put this duffle in the locker room then I’ll take you to where you can sit.”
“Okay,” I agreed and watched as he dashed over to the door to the locker room and went inside for a moment. I looked around some more while he was gone. A few fans were arriving—i guess they were fans—they presented tickets at one of the gates then climbed into the stands and found their seats.
It wasn’t as hot at the ball park as it had been in Los Feliz yesterday and, in fact, was quite pleasant with a breeze coming from somewhere. I actually felt glad for wearing the coverup over my denim dress, it would probably be cool in the shade. Some guys were looking at me as they passed and a few people smiled, so I smiled back.
Rory returned quickly and took my arm to lead me through a gate where he showed a pass to someone and they let us through. We went down through the stands to the box seats behind first base and Rory gave me a kiss. There were two or three other girls in the box and they watched us.
“Got your sunglasses?” Rory asked. “Better put them on, it’s a little cloudy now but it will get bright when the sun comes out.” I pulled out the big green-tinted shades Mom had loaned me and put them on and got another kiss.
“Mmhmm,” I said.
“Mm, hmm,” he agreed. Then he said, “Hey!” to the other girls and headed back to the locker room.
The other three girls looked me over. Two of them were blondes, the third a brunette but they all had tans and were showing them off in cutoffs, and tank tops, with a sundress on one of the blondes. And there I was with my coverup and big hat. At least, we all had on sunglasses.
“I’m Kissy Parker,” I said, trying to be friendly.
“Andie Feldsbruck,” said the blonde in the sundress. “Is Rory Beeson your boyfriend?”
“I hope so,” I said with a giggle. “Otherwise I’ve been taking terrible advantage of a complete stranger.”
Andie and the brunette laughed at that. “Tommi Cervantes,” said the dark-haired girl. “Rory’s a hunk. My guy is the skinny pitcher warming up in the bullpen.” She motioned down the right field line where two visiting pitchers where throwing soft lobs at guys in catcher gear. “Paco-Paco, they call him, but his name is Frank Delano.”
The sour-looking blonde in the cutoffs at the far end of the box admitted that her name was, “Bobbi Winters,” and added that her boy was the centerfielder taking batting practice, A.J. Langford, a compact guy with a sweet-looking swing who pounded every pitch in a different direction.
I did say baseball was the only sport I had any interest in and A.J. reminded me of some of the big league contact hitters I had seen so I watched him for a bit. Bobbi hissed at me, “I thought Rory was dating that girl was on American Idol? Cindy Something?”
Rory had been dating Cyndy Lafollet? Wow. How on Earth did he pick me to follow an act like hers? Cyndy was a singer and dancer and had been a beauty queen. I felt distinctly untalented by comparison. “They broke up,” I said. “Couldn’t find a vehicle big enough for both of their egos, I guess.”
That line got even bigger laughs from Andie and Tommi and at least a smile from Bobbie.
“Look at your nails! They’re fantastic.” Everyone had to ooo and ahh over my nails. Their admiration made me grin so hard my cheeks hurt.
“So what do you do? Are you a model?” Tommi asked.
“Uh, no,” I said in my own voice but then added in a cartoony whine, “Mommie says I’m a princess and I’m pretty good at it, too.”
“Damn, girl, you’re funny,” said Andie after more laughter.
“It’s true,” I add. “My middle name is French for princess, Dauphíne. Which also means dolphin.” I held up the charm on my necklace. “But the chipmunk is more the real me, I guess,” I said, holding up the other charm.
More laughs but Bobbie just shook her head. “Is your first name really Kissy?” she asked.
“Uh, huh. It’s a place in Scotland. It means meadow where the water lilies grow or something.” Rory, in uniform, emerged from a door we couldn’t see and waved at us before trotting out onto the field. I waved back then pointed at him. “Kisser,” I said. Then, pointing at myself, “Kissee.”
Giggles from everyone this time and Bobbie looked a bit less sour. Good.
We were sitting in the front row of a box of twelve seats facing northwest because of the orientation of the ballpark. Directly in front of us, beyond a railing and at a slightly lower level, the visiting players’ bench remained empty since everyone of both teams was out on the field warming up or practicing.
The sun was high in the sky behind us so the roof of the stadium gave us shade at the moment but the sun would go down and to the west soon enough. Andie who was sitting next to me asked, “Why are you all covered up? It’s a nice warm day.”
I pointed at my face, “I’m a redhead, I don’t tan. That Scottish heritage, I guess.”
She grinned. “You’ve got a cute set of freckles, though.”
“I’m not collecting them on purpose,” I told her. “There’s no market for the damn things.”
She laughed. “Does Rory like them? They look like little dabs of butterscotch.”
“Oog,” I said. “Someone tagged me with that nickname in high school—it’s in the yearbook and everything. Trust me, I’m not that sweet.”
Andie laughed again. “I bet Rory thinks you’re adorable.”
“Yeah, well.” I giggled. “We only started dating on Thursday, he’s hardly gotten to know the real me. Though we did know each other years ago, his big sister was my baby sitter.”
“Wow,” she said. “I wish I had some kind of connection like that with Frank. For us, it’s mostly been about the sex.”
Yipe! How did we get to this part of the conversation? I know my face showed something because Andie’s expression changed. She got a knowing twinkle in her blue eyes, “You haven’t done it with Rory yet?”
I shook my head. “Not with anyone, I’m only seventeen!”
“You’re a virgin?” Andie seemed more than amused. “I’m surprised. You’ve got so much confidence and charisma, and with your looks, you could certainly…. Never mind. Personal choices, I’m sure.”
I nodded, not wanting to say anymore. I looked back out at the field. Rory was taking grounders from some coach with a fungo bat standing on the line between first and second. He came up and made a powerful throw to the second baseman to limit the hypothetical runner to a single.
I sighed, having forgotten that Andie was sitting right there beside me.
She laughed softly. “Has he tried?”
I thought about Thursday when I had been all emotional and ready and… willing. And he’d offered me an out that I had taken. “He’s been a gentleman.”
“Uh, huh. But tonight is your third date. What have you got planned for after the game?”
Suddenly, I was very glad that I had a ten p.m. curfew.