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Seize the Moments of Your Life

By: Smokey125



Smokey Saga #56: "Happy Endings VI: Seize The Moments Of Your Life" 

***** 

Welcome, friends! If you are already acquainted with my young ladies Sara Jane Kelton and Melleny Alison Hayes, then glad to have you back! If you're a fan of the girls, then here you go; you're welcome. If you're not familiar with them— 

Chapter 1: "For Happy Endings It Takes Two" (Saga #10) 

Chapter 2: "Won't You Smile Awhile For Me" (Saga #18) 

Chapter 3: "Drowning In The Sea Of Love" (Saga #22) 

Chapter 4: "The One Thing I'll Never Regret" (Saga #32) 

Chapter 5: "I'll Catch You Whenever You Fall" (Saga #50) 

There; that oughta keep you spirited fun-seekers occupied for a while. See you when you get here! 

***** 

Well hey! Now that you're up to speed, welcome to Chapter 6! I am going to attempt something a bit gutsy here for the first time. Most of my stories are set in the present, one or two have been set in the past. Though still narrated in past tense, I am going to set this one in the near future. Now, by that, I don't mean it's going to be some super-futuristic technocentric new dimensional story or anything like that. Just going a little ways forward, due to the events of our heroines when last we left them. Melleny has a smaller role this time around—not nonexistent, just smaller—but do bear in mind that in part 1 she had virtually no role at all. You may also notice a few of my infamous character crossovers here and there, if you're familiar with certain other Smokey Sagas. 

One more thing—and then we'll get to the story, I promise—in honor of our Miss Sara herself, being that she's one of the most beloved characters I've created, I'm timing this story to come out right on her thirtieth birthday, 19 November 2015. It'll start a few short days after that. *party noise* HAPPY BIG 3-0, SARA!! *more party noise* 

***** 

...With A Chance Of Softballs 

Saturday, November 28th, 2015, 11:41 a.m. 

"How about that one?" asked Sara. 

"Right there?" Jake pointed. "That looks like a kangaroo pouch." 

"Oh, good one, bro!" Sara laughed. "How 'bout you, sweetie?" 

"If I'm looking at the same one you guys are, I'm looking at a seashell," giggled Mel. 

"Oh, yeah, I can see that," mused Sara. "Hey, let's find another one and make a shell bra!" 

"Ooh, good idea," Melleny grinned. "Then let's find one that looks like a cute topless babe and pretend we just took it off her." 

"Whoa," chuckled Jake. "I like the way you two think!" 

The trio was cloudwatching. It was an unseasonably warm day shortly after Sara's big 3-0. They'd taken this weekend morning, the legendary memory-worn blanket and some sandwiches, chips, cookies and soft bevvies to the Glens Park for a picnic. After successfully defending the hearty brunch from the Glens Colony of Hungry Ants, they lay on their backs digesting, gazing into heaven and trying to identify its fluffy shifting sculptures. They were sprawled out in such a way that if straight lines were drawn from each of their feet, an obtuse scalene triangle would be formed. They'd become quite the threesome of B.F.F.s. 

"Oh!" said Mel, going into her pocket. "I just remembered!" 

Remembered what, Jake wasn't exactly sure, but Sara had an idea. They couldn't quite see what she was doing from their angle, but they heard a lot of quick button pushes. Finally, Sara's phone chimed. Yup, she was right. 

"Aww-w-w! Look, Jake, it's my daily love text!" Sara laughed, showing him. 

im always on cloud 9 w/u <3 mel 

Jake laughed with her, finding it only adorable that his galpals still exchanged romantic messages in ridiculously close proximity. Sara texted back. Mel's phone jingled in turn, and bringing up Sara's reply, she then showed Jake. 

u re my care bear, sez sare, so there 

The pie chart of Sara Jane Kelton's life was by now almost completely filled. Checking the boxes, she'd found— 

—Two terrific parents... 

—Some nice friends including the best guy-pal a young gal could ask for... 

—A widespread cache of passions, hobbies and interests... 

—A guardian angel in the form of her beloved rock star idol Velette... 

—Full-time employment in an industry that paid handsomely and only bored her an eighth of the way to tears... 

—And boundless love and romance—in chronological order. Life was good to her. She didn't know how she'd become so much more fortunate than others who crossed her path, but she liked to think being a sweet person with a big heart had something to do with it. And speaking of hobbies, her thoughts were now pulling her towards a road she hadn't been down in years. 

"Yo!" she announced, pointing to the sky at 10 o'clock. "Check those out!" 

"Which ones?" Jake asked, raising his finger as well. "The...skinny, fat and round fish?" 

"Oh, no, Jake, I think she means that swizzle stick, the, eh...state of Michigan, and...the snowball," Mel chimed in. 

"No! No, you guys!" Sara shouted excitedly, retracting and pointing her finger again and again. "It's a bat, a glove and a softball!" 

Jake and Melleny both tilted their heads back in Sara's direction, watching as her zeal grew. They hadn't been expecting anything quite this specific. But it seemed Sara had homed in on something that truly captured her fascination, which indeed she had. 

All three friends were logically more energetic and athletic as stamina-loaded kids than as grown-ups. Sara in particular belonged to a kids' bowling league on Saturday mornings, and she and Jake also played sports with several of the little boys around their neighborhood. The other boys liked to tease her about being the only girl, but Sara refused to allow such a little thing interfere with her fun. She was good at sports, and she enjoyed them. She'd always been a fan. She liked playing, she liked watching on TV, and she liked getting her folks to take her to games. She got such a kick from the adrenaline rush that came with it all. When she watched at home, she'd jump and move around in front of the TV set, pretending it was her out there being cheered on. 

Between the other kids around the neighborhood, they had the equipment for a plethora of different games. They played baseball, football, basketball, soccer and street hockey. Sara's team—which she made sure was usually also Jake's—would sometimes win, sometimes not. But she always had fun. Baseball was her favorite out of all the selections. Secretly, Sara wished even more they could played softball, though even at her young age, she knew the boys wouldn't go for that. They already ragged on her for clinging to Jake like his puppy. "Kelton's got a boy-friend!" they mocked. In later years, she'd think to herself, Hah! If they only knew now! 

It was softball which was her true passion. She loved softball. Why baseball didn't light the same spark in her she couldn't say, but as she blossomed into a young woman, she gradually pieced it together. There was something about an even larger than usual spherical object...that she could hold in her hand, grip, play with and toss up and down...which very much appealed to her. By the time her 20s drifted along and she knew that she was a true lesbian, suddenly it all became very clear. Sara Kelton had always enjoyed toying with large round objects, and she'd too always enjoyed herself a well-endowed woman. It was that simple. 

And now she very much wanted to play. She'd done some research, and found that sign-ups for Juniper's women's team, the Minnesota Sprites, would start early December. Annual tryouts began late February the following year, and so forth from there. She could hardly wait. After sharing the news with her two best mates, they naturally approved, with but one logical reservation. 

"Oh, babe, that's awesome!" said Mel. "Really, so cool, but...and I don't mean anything by this, but...you sure you're the right age?" 

"Yeah, sis," Jake added. "I think she means...well, it just seems like most of the girls trying out are gonna be more in the, y'know...twenty to twenty-five range." 

"Exactly," agreed Melleny. "That's really the only concern on my mind." 

Sara waved it off, wordlessly telling them not to worry. "I know, I've already thought about it," she informed them. "Yeah, most of these girls are gonna be younger, probably just getting out of college, if even that old. But I mean, I just wanna play. Even if I've got a few more years on me, I'm good, and I'm pretty strong and fast, you guys know that. I know I might not even make it past tryouts, but if I do my best, that's all anyone can ask. You guys'll help me practice and get ready, right?" 

Of course they would, they naturally agreed; no problem. 

"Yay!" Sara clapped, flopping down on her back again. "Hey, check out that one up there: it's a ball cap!" 

***** 

Work That Girl And Work Her Hard 

Saturday, December 5th, 2015, 12:36 p.m. 

"I did it!!" Sara shouted, throwing her door wide open. "I signed up!" 

She bounded in where Mel came out to meet her and jumped into her arms. 

"Oh, wow," said Melleny, continuing still to underestimate Sara's enthusiasm. "Well, good for you, honey! I'm proud of you!" 

"Yep! So now you gotta start helping me train! We—" 

Sara stopped a moment to whiff the air. A familiarly pleasing scent wafted under her nose. 

"Is...is that pizza?" 

"Oh, yeah, actually, it is; I just ordered it. I, eh...I didn't realize you were gonna sign up for the team already." 

"Ah, doesn't matter. Well, I'd better get started! You wanna be my coach?" 

"'Course! You take off your shoes and socks, and I'll just go grab our mats." 

Melleny brought out their matching exercise mats on which they did yogilates and also on which she taught Sara how to give a killer massage. She'd also slipped a whistle around her neck. Trotting momentarily into the kitchen to gnaw off a generous mouthful of 'zza and shut the box, she returned and rolled out the mats. 

"Arrighf," she uttered between chews. Gulp. "First off, natch, we're gonna do some stretching." 

Sara began to position herself, but Mel halted her. Crossing behind, she took the hem of Sara's top and pulled it up over her head. Sara felt her arms lifted for her as the shirt came off. 

"Uh, Mmmf—" Sara began to ask as her face filled with fabric. 

Mel didn't respond. Instead, she whipped off Sara's shirt, unhooked her bra, and then proceeded to undo her jeans. 

"S—...sweetie...um—" 

"That's Coach sweetie to you, Kelton," Melleny smiled. Once she had Sara's pants unfastened, she hooked her thumbs into the hips, taking both her jeans and panties, and yanked them both down, abruptly exposing her ass and pussy. 

"Wha—!" Mel had just undressed her in about fifteen seconds flat. Sara couldn't remember them ever having gotten one another's clothes off this fast. She by no means objected, though she was, she had to admit, a trifle confused.  

"Step out and hand 'em over," Melleny ordered, gesturing with her fingers. 

Her now naked girlfriend, pants around her ankles, sheepishly and a bit hesitantly did as told. 

"'At's a girl." Mel tossed the surrendered garments to the sofa and guided Sara to step on one mat as she assumed the other. 

"Now mirror me." She turned to her left, directing Sara to face her right. Melleny flexed out her arms, one in front of her, one behind, and slid one foot down the mat until her legs were splayed at a 45° angle. Sara followed suit. 

"Good. Now hold that pose..." Sara froze in position. Mel departed her mat and crossed behind. She placed her hands on Sara's back and shoulders to adjust her posture. Suddenly, Sara felt that disarming touch that turned her to butter. 

"Head parallel to the rest of your body..." Mel ordered. "Standing upright, spine straight. Arms symmetrical and level. That's it." 

So this was why she'd disrobed her first. Or perhaps she'd just wanted to test her limits of endurance. Sara had to admit difficulty focusing under the guidance of Melleny's magic masseuse fingers. She wasn't sure whether she'd enjoy this, or...well...enjoy it. 

"Okay." Her coach returned to the vacant mat and reassumed the position. "Now keep those gorgeous eyes on me, and do as I do." 

Well, clearly no problem there. If Sara had her way, she'd sleep with her eyes open just to visually bathe forever in Mel's beauty. 

"Arms outstretched, just like that, and we're gonna start with the neck," Melleny told her. "Now bring your left ear down, and slowly roll your head back, from shoulder to shoulder, and up from there." 

Sara followed instructions, feeling and hearing her neck crick. "Ooh!" 

"And now down with the right ear, and roll back the other way." Again, Sara obeyed. 

"Good girl. Now we'll work our way down to the shoulders themselves. Take your arm across the chest like this..." Mel demonstrated for her, "And pull till you feel your shoulder being stretched. Then do the same on the other side." 

In timely order, Melleny took her through stretching the triceps, wrists, quadriceps and hamstrings, bringing them to the legs. 

"Now I'm gonna have you lay down, on your back, and lift your legs for me," Mel directed. Sara lowered herself into position. 

"'Atta gal. Now take the backs of your thighs—right under that sexy little round ass of yours—and pull your legs back towards you." 

Sara continued to do what she was told, cautiously looking up at her coach standing over her. Mel had one foot planted on either side of Sara's head—perhaps deliberately, she couldn't tell—enabling Sara to look directly up her dress and peek at her blue panties. They looked dry, but the dark navy color rendered her unsure. Then she felt Melleny take her ankles. She tensed up, curling her toes. 

"D—...pl-please don't tickle my feet," she pleaded, knowing she was helpless to defend herself. 

"Hon-ey..." Mel chuckled, smirking down at her. "How sadistic do you think I am?" 

Well, there was a loaded question. Skirting it, Sara merely repeated her request. 

"Very well. I'll simply give you a little, eh...hand, or two. Now just stretch as much as you can, and we'll hold it a minute." 

Sara abruptly found herself unable to take her eyes off Mel's (regretfully opaque) panties. Again, she couldn't help wondering if Melleny was doing this to her on purpose. She wouldn't put it past her. Melleny Hayes hadn't an evil bone in her body, although a few of her bones had shown themselves to be a bit devious. She'd never intentionally try to harm Sara, physically or emotionally, but she would own up to impishly teasing and messing with her. Just for kicks, of course. All in the name of playful fun. 

"Just another second or two, and...very good!" praised Mel, letting Sara drop her legs. 

"Whew!" said Sara, catching her breath. "Are we done?" 

"With phase one." Melleny headed to the kitchen. She opened the pizza box to grab another slice before shoving it in the fridge. 

"Wha—...there's more?" Sara called. Perhaps this working out thing wouldn't be as easy as she'd thought. 

Chomp. "Uh courff, yuh siwwy!" Mel returned. Gulp. "That was just the stretching part!" 

"Mmph..." Sara shut her eyes. "Well, then, can I have some pizza?" 

"Don't be absurd; you're in training. After we're all done we'll get you a nice greens salad." 

Sara let out a grumble as she pushed back up onto her sexy little round ass. This training thing seemed to have its drawbacks. 

"Okay, but it better have chicken in it. I mean, c'mon; you can't take that away from me." 

"Fair enough. Now roll over on your side and gimme some leg lifts." 

Sigh. "All right, which side?" 

"Up to you; we're gonna do both." 

"I was afraid of that." A disgruntled but obedient Sara flopped—almost by default—on her right hip. "How many, coach-sweetie?" 

"Just do as many as you can do. If I think you're overdoing it, I'll tell you to stop." 

Part of Sara was kind of regretting asking her girlfriend to be her coach. Another part of her was really regretting it. But a third part reminded the first two she loved and trusted Melleny, who wouldn't lead her wrong. Mel had only the best intentions, wanting her to become fit and equipped to make the softball team. Sara really did want that. She took a breath, flexed her left gam, and swept it upwards to a 75° angle for her first lift. Mel crouched, nodding at Sara's progress. While she believed in the effectiveness of this technique, she too relished the nice view of Sara's fuzzy puss. She could basically see, touch and have Sara's pussy to herself anytime she wanted—as palpably proven taking her clothes from her before the workout began—but as vibrant as true love and romance remained, sex lives could use some refreshment now and then. And so while exercising on its own benefitted Sara, Melleny profited as well. She was treated to the novelty of a naked Sara getting physical for her, starting to break into a sweat, all the time vulnerable to any advance Mel might make. She found this hot. She loved the idea of being a naughty coach, harassing her naked trainee. 

"How's it feeling, babe?" Mel asked at the onset of leg lift seventeen. 

Sara puffed and panted. "Uh..." she breathed, "...'S starting to hurt, but I can go a few more." 

She made it to twenty-five and let her leg down, feeling this was a nice round number to end on. She then dropped her head to the mat to rest before turning over for the other twenty-five. A now turned-on Mel patted her thigh, and ran her hand around to the other side, lightly goosing Sara's ass cheek. This obtained Sara's attention. 

"...Mel?" 

Melleny did not answer. Instead, she let a tiny smile spread over her face, and drifted her fingertips down towards Sara's taint. 

"Melleny?...What's going on?" 

Sara looked up, but was interrupted by the sharp, hot sensation as Mel snuck her hand between her thighs and groped her cunt. 

Gasp. "MEL, what the—" 

Sara was a bit more startled than aroused herself, caught off-guard by this unexpected turn things had taken. Her reasoning for being in the buff was that Melleny could conduct a better examination of her muscles and physiology this way. She hadn't taken into account that Mel might also have stripped her naked for her own entertainment. Melleny'd planned to remain authoritative and in control throughout this training session, but her plot may have been backfiring on her. 

"Melleny, wh—...um...what'cha doing?" 

Mel's grin grew. "Motivating you, pookie," she asserted. She gently goosed Sara's pussy again, ordering, "Flip on over. C'mon." 

"WHOAHHkay!" Sara exclaimed. This was more than enough motivation. It didn't quite hurt; it was more stimulating than painful. In fact, it almost drove her a little crazy. Her nipples plumped. She rotated to her left side and gave her coach twenty-five equally good lifts with her right leg. About halfway through them, however, she felt said coach now gripping her left inner thigh. 

Oh, Goddess. "Um...Mel..." 

"Don't mind me, Sara. Just keep going." 

Sara made herself carry on, amidst little pokes, prods and pinches in the most randomly temperamental spots. Then solely to be mischievous, Mel gingerly smacked and tickled her ass. Her soft interruptions disrupted, but also excited. Much as Sara tried and failed to concentrate, she had to admit her primal, libidinous side was enjoying this. The person coaching her through this exercise-teasing session was the person who turned Sara on more than anything. Mel's touch alone, in and of itself, carried the power to make Sara swell with zeal, or sizzle with yearning. On top of which, she'd cooked up more than a few personal fantasies involving Melleny, making herself the submissive party, giving Mel the power to do with her as she would. And so while she may not have realized it, her girlfriend happened to be cashing in on her psychological weakness right now. Finally, she finished her latter twenty-five leg lifts. 


Seize the Moments of Your Life



"Whew!" Sara collapsed on the mat once more. She was sweating, breath coming in rushed gasps. She couldn't believe she'd be this worked up performing these same calisthenics by herself. There was more than semi-arduous body training going on here. Now she had the bonus of taunting, almost tormentous libido-diddling, to add to the equation. If only she didn't love it so damn much... 

"Well done, baby doll," congratulated Mel. "Now how about a few sit-ups next?" 

"Mmmm...a'right," Sara groaned, shifting up onto her bum once more. She had allowed some stamina to generate thus far, so she felt more energized now to continue—though she was a bit worried what sort of hormone-scorching antics Melleny had in store for her during these—and whether or not she'd be able to withstand them. But Mel, she reminded herself numerous times, was better-versed in physical education and muscular structure. As a masseuse, they liked her to know a bit about these things. So Sara laid on her back, bent at the knees, soles to the floor, and let Coach Melleny kneel down on the tops of her feet. 

Sit-ups were one of Sara's more prominent skills in phys ed class growing up. In her heyday, she could squeeze off a good sixty in a minute, averaging one per sec. She launched in, impressing both Mel and herself by knocking out forty before she again dropped. Fortunately, holding on to her knees for support, her coach refrained from thrusting any roguish distraction on her this time. 

"Very good, darling!" Melleny applauded as Sara crashed on her back. "Even more than I'd hoped for!" 

Swell, thought Sara. She kept her legs together, hoping Mel didn't notice her leaking cunt turning red. She enjoyed flattering her, and liked playing sub to Mel's domme, but didn't want Mel to think she was just a weak, jelly-kneed sexual marshmallow. There was no hiding her stiffened nipples, both knew that. Melleny suspected Sara was getting fairly horny—at least she hoped so. She'd like to think her seductive training methods had some effect. Her own pussy was starting to sop through her dark blue panties as well. 

Melleny let her rest for between five and ten minutes, getting up in the meantime to fetch something from the bedroom. 

Sara finally felt her knee patted. She looked up to see her coach. 

"Okeydoke, babe..." Mel waved her finger in a circular motion. "Over you go. On your belly." 

Hmph, thought Sara, guessing the workout wasn't finished yet. She complied. 

"That's my girl. Now just hold still a moment..." 

Tiring out, Sara was about to cross her arms at the wrists and use her paws as a pillow. Then she felt something unusual. 

She turned to look around. Melleny had adjourned to her room to rummage the closet till she found what she was looking for: a dress tie. They kept around a tie and jacket or two in case they felt like gussying up special. Mel'd snatched up one of the ties and was now putting it to use wrapping around Sara's ankles, tying her feet together. Sara's brows jumped, eyes widening at this sight. 

"Uh...honey..." 

Mel didn't look up, but continued her merry task at hand—or, rather, at foot. "Yes, my dear?" 

Sara didn't believe she'd get a much more coherent answer, but nevertheless, she felt obliged to again inquire— 

"What...exactly are you doing?" 

"Why, I'm tying your ankles, goofy. Can't you discern that for yourself?" 

Yes, she could; otherwise she'd have no questions. This wasn't quite what Sara was driving at. 

"Erm...why?" 

Melleny finished with a nice tight double knot. "Well, as it turns out, there's a very good reason for that, sweetie," she explained. "The next little number I want you to do for me will be some good ol'-fashioned push-ups." 

Sara wasn't looking forward to that. She turned back to her wrists and defeatedly dropped her face. Mel chuckled behind her. 

"Oh, buck up, babe. It won't be that hard. Here's the thing, though. Tying your feet's just for encouragement right now, to get you into the habit of keeping them together. With push-ups, most people keep their feet wide apart 'cause it's easier. And they probably think it doesn't make that big a difference. But the fact is, you actually get a better workout by keeping your feet together. Your body's aligned straight and your limbs are all pointing the same way. So it may be a little harder, but it's gonna strengthen your core. And I want you to do your best to keep your arms and back straight too." 

Sara chortled. Mel laughed along with her. "Yeah. Keep your mind and your heart gay; I just want your body straight. Oh, yes, and of course, the other reason I tied your feet is so you can't get up and run away from me!" Mel winked, though Sara wasn't looking. 

"Hm. I'd agree with you, but you'd probably think I was kidding," said Sardonic Sara. 

"Moot point, love; 's all moot," smiled Merry Melleny. "Now, I want some good push-ups. I don't want you pushing back up until those boobies touch the mat. And remember, I'll be watching." 

Tee-rific. "I don't suppose you'd let me get a major breast enlargement first?" 

Mel laughed. "Don't ever lose that sense of humor, sweetie. If we have love and laughter together, we have the world in our hands." 

This made Sara glow with love. Maybe she could handle these push-ups after all. She brought herself up, taking care to do as Mel said and keep herself straight—so to speak—and lowered until she felt the girls brush the elastomer. Okay, she thought, And back on up...and repeat. Down...and...back up. And again. Her first five push-ups posed no problems. 

"Good, good..." Mel ascertained, nodding at her. "Keep going..." The naughty smile spread across her cheeks. 

"...And pay no attention to what you're gonna feel in just a second." 

Uh-oh...oh dear, what does that mean?... 

Melleny reached beneath Sara, between her straightened-out legs with those magic fingers... 

...And began ever so sensually massaging her moistened pink pussy. 

Sara let out her champion gasp of the day and almost crashed right to the floor. 

WHAT the—?! "Pay no attention"?? To this?? You have gotta be kidding me! 

Sara felt her eyes roll back. Palms firmly planted in the carpet, toes pressing down into the mat, there was nothing she could do about this, even if she'd wanted to. Once again, here that sneaky Melleny had slipped a raunchy advance on her in the middle of her assigned exercises, taking advantage of Sara at her most powerless and helpless. Sara resented her and loved her for it. And she knew that Mel would demand she continue, despite the oh so erotic malice she heaped upon her. There was nothing she could do. She was already sweating, as horny as a weasel, and her sadist of a girlfriend-coach just poured it on. 

She didn't stop. She rubbed Sara on, over and between the pussy lips, harder and faster. Sara's knees and elbows wobbled. She didn't want to surrender to gravity, plummeting her short distance to the floor and squashing Melleny's hand (whether it deserved it or not), but she was losing strength. It felt so damned good, so ravishingly hot...how Sara was longing to roll over and give in to the pressuring passion. How she was dying to melt into this lavic pool of pleasure. But...she wasn't to be granted this privilege yet. 

Unexpectedly as she had begun, Mel abruptly ceased, whipping her dominant hand from below to above, and whapping her square on the ass. Sure enough, here came the command. Spank! "Keep going with those push-ups, missy!" 

"Oh-ho-hohhhhhh!" Sara wailed in frustrated agony. How sinister. How downright wicked. Melleny had chosen just the exact moment as she was beginning to lose herself, to immerse herself in the sheer sublimity of it all. And she had denied her. How cruel. 

"Oh, plee-ee-ee-ease!" Sara begged, on the verge of weeping. She looked back under her body, past her heaving, dangling tits, to see only Melleny's dress, her own body obscuring the rest of her. "Please touch me!" she pleaded. "I can't stand it!"  

"Sorry, Kelton," came the stern reply. "No more rewards till you finish. And don't you try to touch yourself, either." 

The spank on her ass was harsh, but didn't even sting. Sara could focus on nothing but her aching cunt, throbbing for the love it would not receive. She found it suddenly tough to swallow the fact that this was her own Melleny Hayes doing this to her. Her thinking was pretty fuzzy at the moment, but she didn't think the Melleny she knew was so devious or strict. Then again, they had engaged in roleplaying fantasies in the past that reflected similarities—Sara usually as aforementioned playing sub to Mel's domme. 

What Sara didn't exactly know or suspect was that Melleny was also exploring a new reach in her libido and hormones. She too was inspired by their roleplaying, and saw fit in this instance to bring some of that authoritative flavor into their real-life situation. She wasn't consciously meaning to be so...well, mean, but on this level, she'd lost a chunk of her reasoning as well. In her mind, they were "acting," playing out the roles of a couple of their fantasy characters, but right now, essentially portraying themselves. They were allowed to embellish and fudge a bit on their own sexual résumés in the name of fun and adventure...weren't they? 

Sara wasn't really thinking along these lines. She was concerned now solely with getting that warm, soft hand back in contact with her pulsating coochie, and finally penetrated to the fact that she could only accomplish this by getting the hell on with her push-ups. So she shut her eyes, winced in anguish, forced back the volcanic pleasure with all her might, and lowered to the mat. 

Melleny grinned, now secure in the satisfaction that she had Sara in the palm of her hand—both figuratively and literally. She could make the girl do anything she wished right now. Moreover, she could do herself anything to her. She could go so far as to tickle her (tied) feet, which she secretly loved because it drove Sara so insane. She hated having her feet tickled, and the perverse, playful side of Mel adored getting her goat in such ways. She wouldn't say she loved torturing Sara, she just...vastly enjoyed having a little fun here and there...perhaps at Sara's expense...in exchange for reciprocation. Was that so terribly wrong? 

But she told herself to have a little mercy as Sara struggled and soldiered on with the push-ups. She was obviously working hard at this, and deserved a bit of leeway. By push-up twelve, Sara was grimacing and fighting back sweat and tears, both from the physical strain and also the delayed gratification her pussy still so craved. Her face was red, her eyes and nose wet and stingy. Her sore muscles were beginning to really ache. Mel was working her like a dog. She couldn't expect much more at this pace. Each push-up grew considerably more difficult than the last. Finally, at twenty-two, Sara determined that was all she had, and dropped. 

For all she knew, she could have fallen right to sleep in the few moments once her cheek hit the mat. Her mouth hung open, catching breath. A not so tiny trickle of drool dribbled out as she finally heard her coach's voice again. 

"Hmmm..." Mel assessed. Sara blinked, quickly grabbing her bearings back, and swiped her lips dry. 

"...Twenty-two. Well, Kelton, that's a decent number, but to tell you the truth..." 

Sara didn't think she liked the sound of this. 

"...I was pretty pleased with those twenty-five leg lifts. What say you give me just three more push-ups?" 

"Uhhhhh..." Sara groaned. "Babe, jam a fork in me." 

"C'mon, sweets, give me three more. Unless, of course, you'd rather give me ten more." 

"Oh, for eff's sake," complained Sara, "Melleny, I'm tired! Haven't I done enough already??" 

"Three more good push-ups, boobies to the floor, and that's it; you're done." 

"No." 

Sara felt Mel's nails poke her worst spot. The pink, deathly sensitive nerve ending-laden soles of her 7½ peds. A chill struck her. 

"Want your tootsies tickled, little barefoot naked trainee??" 

Gasp. "NO! No. Ok-okay, okay." This was effective persuasion for Sara to locate her second wind. She fulcrumed herself up onto her knees and elbows, propped her toes, planted her palms, descended, and let her girls to the floor. 

"Errrrrgggghhh..." she expressed. Twenty-three down—or rather, up—two to go. She blew out her breath and repeated. 

"GAAAAAHHHhhhh..." One to go. 

"MMMMMMMMMPH..." 

At last, she was through. Fwump! she landed on the floor once more. Finally, she felt Mel untie her feet. Tweeeeeeet! 

"Fabulous!" Melleny congratulated, clapping for her. "That's my Sara Kelton! Well a'right then. I owe you one killer orgasm." 

"Ohhhhhhh..." Sara's eyes fluttered closed. She felt she could drop asleep right now, for about a week. "Mel, I'm too tired now." 

Mel took her by the outer arm and flipped her over onto her back. She snatched up the tie once more and put it this time to use trussing up Sara's wrists, above her head. A naughty smirk painted her lips. 

"Tough, rookie. You'll now, by my orders, keep your wrists above your head. As if someone's glued them there. Disobeying Coach Hayes will lead directly to trouble." Cue the evil wink and grin. Albeit tired, her sweaty, horny trainee was made happy to comply. 

Mel dug her right knee in between Sara's legs and forced them ajar. Sara couldn't put her finger on what happened next, but Melleny could. And did. Sara screamed. She reflexively began to sit up, but Mel forced her back down with her free hand. She passionately clutched Sara's right tit, massaging the nipple between her fingers, leaning down to whisper to her. 

"If you wanna make my team, Kelton..." Mel cooed to her, "...You're gonna have to endure one more intense trial." 

Sara's cunt leaked and dripped pre-cum all over itself. She was so wildly, torridly turned on right now she didn't think she even needed her hands. She gazed up into Melleny's cobalt pools with defiance, and smiled back. 

"Try me, coach." 

Mel's eyebrows arched, pleasingly complementing her sneaky sexy smile. This surge of courage on Sara's part surprised her, but also in turn ignited her like alcohol on an open flame. She was still clothed, and her silk panties went damp right through, almost instantaneously. So Sara was deciding to take some initiative of her own. Melleny liked this. She elected to take it up another notch and see what Sara would do next. Perhaps they would turn it into a hot little competition between the two of them. 

She slid down until her body horizontally overlapped Sara's, and nuzzled her nose. 

"Moan for your coach, rookie," Mel taunted, continuing to intimately rub Sara's pussy as she had been during her push-ups. 

Sara arched her back, tilting her upper half, making herself as helplessly, deliciously vulnerable as possible. She mooooaned. Melleny chuckled down on her, feeling her fingers squish in Sara's cunt's love juice. 

"Hope you're ready to commit yourself, Kelton," said Mel. "'Cause you're in this for the long haul. You're in my boot camp now." 

She was pouring it on again, playfully tantalizing her. Sara ground the back of her head into the mat. She stayed arched, continuing to pretend her arms were adhered to the floor. She, was, loving, this: her girlfriend roleplaying a hypothetical coach who was working her hard, and making her pay for it, now sexually "harassing" her to get that which they both desired. She mouthed desirous exultations, daring not talk over her coach, who went on showering her in fiery kisses and kink-bursting taunts. 

"And this is just the beginning. What you got from me today was just a taste of things to come, Sara Kelton. I'm gonna put you through the most extreme training you've ever experienced." She dropped her voice even lower, hissing in Sara's ear. 

"Hot...steamy...electric...exertion," purred Melleny, feeling Sara's pussy swell, her cum less and less premature. Her clit bulged and throbbed, too erect to hide beneath its hood. And Mel knew it. 

"I know your weak spots, Kelton," came the syrupy voice into her ear, toying with her mind. "I know exactly how to get you...right where I want you." She took Sara's ear lobe between her teeth. "Consider me your own personal, sensual drill sergeant." 

Sara couldn't keep silent another second. She screeched, her decibel level shooting from zero to sixty in an instant. Her lust-starved monologue went on just as before, now filled in by shouts of yearning. Her tach slammed back down to zero and began steadily climbing on her next rev, pleasure and sizzle now multiplied. 

"Oooh-hoo-hoo!" Mel giggled with delight and flattery. Though she and Sara had made each other make these sounds and many others numerous times, her enthusiasm for them didn't waver. She looked up to a very pleasing side view of her angel and trainee's sweating face, now hopelessly lost in throes of ecstasy, far gone past any no-return point. Her eyes were pinched shut, mouth gasping pleas for release, face equally desperate. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen in her life. 

Her wrist started to ache, but its otherwise tangible complaints didn't make it to her brain. She kissed the sweat from Sara's cheek and temple. For her part, Melleny was surprised she'd been able to conjure these, such torturous, teasing phrases to mock-intimidate her darling with. These threats and menacing words didn't reflect her personality whatsoever—things she'd never say or mean in other settings. She must have been better at this roleplaying thing than she'd expected. She'd always kind of thought of herself as a half-decent actress, but she didn't know she was so good at improv'ing. 

Minute after minute went on elapsing as Melleny took her to the edge, let her dangle and pulled her back. Sara was committed to keeping her wrists above her head, but her faculties were dropping. She was going insane. Fires of passion laced her in aimless trails, meeting and feeding itself ceaselessly. Her body blotched red as searing strikes of lightning assaulted her from inside. Her puffed, blood-red pussy oozed cum more and more violently as Mel melted and milked her. Gravity abandoned her, and she left the ground, summoned to the heavens. It was only a matter of seconds now. She could see the portal to the promised land open through her eyelids. She did her best to patiently wait as she was brought towards it...could almost touch it...could almost taste it... 

Finally, Melleny granted the inevitable access through the portal. 

"I love you, Sara Jane Kelton." 

She barely got out the 'k' in her last name. 

"OOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!! OhhhhhhhYESSSSSSS!!" Sara shrieked as climax slammed her. Tears burst from her eyes, cum from her pussy, as if through a dam, splattering Melleny's glowing hand in hot stickiness. This orgasm was so explosively dynamic, Sara could swear that her cum came. It was just how so shaken up and overwhelmed her Little Sara was. Now the rest of her was dizzied beyond belief and would need several minutes to recover. In the midst of the haze, she felt Melleny get up. 




Seize the Moments of Your Life



"All right, Kelton, now get your mitt and hit the field." 

The words swirled into Sara's brain and took a moment to register. She tried to look up. 

"...Huh??" 

Melleny laughed good-naturedly. "Just kidding, sweetie. I'm gonna go do me now." 

***** 

Practice Still Makes Pretty Darn Good 

Sunday, February 28th, 2016, 10:23 p.m. 

Sara and Mel's next two and a half months were spent whipping the former into shape for her approaching tryout. They started at a sporting goods store, picking up the objects Sara saw in the clouds, and having catches in the yard. Mel hurled her as many varieties of throws as she could to hone her ability. They conducted more exercise sessions, both in-home (which turned intimate) and at the Oakland Hills Health Club on Arnold Highway (which did not). Mel also pitched to her to work on her hitting, and took her to the batting cages. They then beckoned assistance from Jake and Sara's Dad, who hit them fungoes and grounders in her parents' yard. And just like when the kids were little, they came inside afterwards to find her Mom having made them a nice pitcher of lemonade. 

Sara's mind was starting to swim from all the pointers and advice from her loved ones. Running, catching and fielding weren't very complicated, but there was more involved in hitting than she'd realized. "Back elbow up, dominant hand on top." "Feet evenly apart, step into the pitch." "Shoulders square, even level swing." "Eye on the ball, watch for the possible break at the last moment." Sara's batting and technique were improving, but the curve ball unabatedly confounded her. She just couldn't seem to nail it. But she was sure she'd get more practice once she got to camp. The last tip her Dad gave her was, "Watch for the pitcher's timing, let the ball come to you, and you'll learn to sense just the exact right moment. It'll get bigger and bigger, until you can't possibly miss it." 

Melleny went on, both keeping her on a strict diet and working her like a dog with their exercises, which she continually swore were for Sara's own good and benefit. At first, Sara found this tough to believe. Not quite as tough as Mel in her drill sergeant mode, but tough. But as the weeks wore forth, sure enough, Sara had to admit things were getting easier. She was shedding weight, completing her calisthenics quickly and thoroughly, and even starting to develop a taste for green leafy vegetables—to which she'd never before been very partial. Maybe, she sometimes joked to herself, who knew, just maybe, she was actually becoming an adult. 

2016's Leap Year Day, the fateful late February Monday of the 29th, would host tryouts for the Sprites, just north of Rochester. It loomed intimidatingly ahead of her, but Sara kept telling herself that it would be fun, to just be her amazing self, hang out, meet everyone, and do her best. Still, she couldn't deny a basic measure of nervousness vis-à-vis the big day. Her family and friends kept working her out right up to Sunday the 28th, and easier though it had become, Sara was so jittery she didn't think she could fall asleep. She felt even too nervous to make love to Melleny, she told her as they lay side by side in bed, gazing into one another's eyes. 

"You sure, sweetie?" asked Mel. "The big 'O''ll definitely help get you to sleep," she winked. 

Sara giggled. "I'm sure, babe. Just hold me tonight, if that's okay. That'll help me relax. Just snuggle me to pieces." 

Can do, Mel thought. She slipped one arm under Sara, other over and around, shifting her butt and legs up closer. "How's this?" 

"Perfect, as usual." 

"I'm gonna miss you so much," said Melleny, rubbing her head against Sara like a cat. 

"Oh, sweetie, camp's just a week," Sara replied, stroking Mel's cheek. "And even if I make the team, we're not gonna be traveling around that much. 'S not the MLB, after all. And you can come to all the home games." 

Mel kissed her. Sara's occupied lips curled up into a pleased grin. "Mmm, that's nice," she murmured following the smooch. 

"Tell me something I don't know." 

Sara laid a peck on Melleny's rosy cheek. Mel plopped one on Sara's soft button nose. Sara planted one on Melleny's left eyebrow. As Mel's heart began speeding up, she returned to Sara's plushy lips. She upped her aggression factor with this kiss, Sara noted. Whether this was deliberate or not, Sara felt the need to put the brakes on. 

"Mmm—whoa, okay there, tiger," she chuckled, placing a finger to Melleny's smirking lips. "'No' means 'not right now.'" 

Mel shrugged, innocently casting her gaze to Sara's glow-in-the-dark dinosaur stickers on the ceiling. 

"Can't blame a girl for trying." 

***** 

A Leap Of Their Own (Camp-Fireball Girls) 

Monday, February 29th, 2016, 9:01 a.m. 

Mel gave Sara her well-wishes Sunday night before they went to sleep so she could get up early the next morning and head to camp. She tossed her gear in the passenger seat with her beloved backpack and hit the road. Upon arrival, she was introduced to the owner, manager and GM, and showed into the clubhouse. She looked around. Some girls were gabbing and laughing. Some were unpacking by their chosen bunks. Sara opted a friendly-looking bunk towards the middle of the room, both halves of which seemed unclaimed. She thought she'd take a bottom—no suggestive pun intended—what with her habit of tossing, turning and kicking in her sleep. She began to set her stuff down, looking around in case someone else had planted her flag here. No one halted her, so she proceeded. 

"You're new here, ain't'cha?" 

Someone was addressing her from behind. Sara turned to see a tall ginger who could have been Julianne Moore's doppelgänger. 

"Yeah! I am," Sara held out her paw. "Sara Kelton." 

The redhead snatched Sara's offered hand and gripped it, almost detaching her arm in the process. 

"Staycie Dunheuser. Pitcher. Inventor of the Underhanded Fireball." 

"Er...wow," reacted Sara, adding an initial 'w' to what she was really thinking. "...Well, I'm sure glad you're on my team!" 

"Damn straight, rook. Don't mean to brag, but I pitched two no-hitters last season." 

"Well...hey!" Sara nodded. "Well...like I just said." 

"Yeah. So we'll have to see if you can get a hit off me. I'll give ya a demonstration when we hit the field." 

"Well, I'm not too bad; I just can't hit a curve ball." 

"Oh, yeah; a lot of batters do hate the ol' breaker. 'Course, my Fireball's no piece of cake either." 

They chatted a little longer. At 25, Staycie'd been playing minor league softball for four seasons. She grew up in Green Plains and had just recently graduated from Denmore with a major in physical education. Staycie didn't just play softball. She lived it. She breathed it. She woke up each morning and put herself to bed each night thinking about it. Funnily enough, her interest hadn't developed until her teens, when she began playing. Like Sara, she also took enjoyment in handling large spherical objects. 

"By the way," said Staycie, "Not to be rude, but, eh...aren't you a little, kinda...not young, to be starting softball?" 

"Oh, well, y'know, Babe Ruth was 39 when he joined the Yankees." 

Staycie made a surprised face. "W—...really?" 

"No," Sara shook her head with an amused smirk. "No, not really. That's from the movie Patch Adams. My best friend Jake and I saw it together when we were thirteen. See, Robin Williams's about to start med school, and someone asks him that—isn't he kinda a little old—and that's what Robin says: 'Babe Ruth was 39 when he joined the Yankees.' And the guy goes, 'No, he wasn't.' And Robin says, 'You're right. But I could really use an example like that, and if you come up with one, please let me know.'" 

Their conversation was halted by an insistent whistle, from the opposite end of the room to the entrance. It was the team coach and manager, Darcy Adair. She followed up the whistle with a hearty clap of the hands. "A'right, ladies, line up!" she called. The invitees trotted out from between the bunks and formed lines in front of them, on either side. Adair started down the middle. 

"Welcome to Minnesota Sprites spring training twenty-sixteen!" she announced. "I hope you girls are ready for some serious action, 'cause that's exactly what you're about to get." 

"Ooooh," Sara giggle-whispered to Staycie. "Could be fun, right?" Staycie discreetly elbowed her. 

"We are gonna run the gamet, ladies," Coach Darcy continued. "You are going through the gauntlet. All of ya. So I hope you've got what it takes. There are forty of yas in this room right now. Of these forty, twenty-eight of you..." She paused for effect. 

"...Will not make this team." 

Sara's eyebrows jumped. Whoa. She knew making it wouldn't be easy, but... 

Adair reached the end and about-faced. "Now, a few of the cut twenty-eight may be kept around as team accessories: assistant coaches, record keepers, et cetera. If offered these supplementals, it is your prerogative to accept or decline. But! We'll deal with that when the time comes. In the meantime, we're gonna weed through the lot of ya, and we are gonna find twelve potential ballplayers. 

"And those twelve will prove themselves to drive the real guts of this game. Ladies, it is no secret that the sports-conscious world views softball as an average priority. Part of the connotation's right there in the name of the sport: 'softball.' 'Soft.' We are softballers! And as such, we are henceforth soft. Right?? 

"Wrong!" she went on, waiting no time for an answer. "Clear that silliness from your heads this instant! Ladies, we are not out to change the name of the sport. What we are looking to change is its level of regard. Our critics are wrong when they deem the sport of softball a cutesy little girls' game, or the inferior form of the national pastime, and we are gonna show them why! So the next time someone says, 'You play ball like a girl,' I want you to make that person take a step back and think twice about what they just said!" 

Some of the girls cheered. All for this sentiment, Sara clapped along. 

"Now, I can see some of y'all're here from last year's team, and some of y'all're new. But here for the first time or not, I'm gonna hold you all to the same standard. You wanna make this team, I wanna see more than just talent in you ladies," Adair shouted. "I wanna see some determination in your eyes! I wanna see some heart in your gameplay! I wanna see you push yourself past your limits! And by God, I want to see you strike some pride into my heart this season, when we destroy those Longhorns!" 

Again, the girls cheered. Sara's ears perked up. Even though she was new here, she recognized that name. The Madison Longhorns were the Minnesota Sprites' sworn rivals in the midwestern women's division. The last title the Sprites took was in 2001. Each of the fifteen years they approached divisional victory since, Wisconsin's fierce Longhorns had swept in, taken their field by storm, and snatched triumph right out from under their noses. But Coach Darcy Adair was absolutely determined that after a decade and a half of upsets, 2016 was the year that had Sprite written all over it. She went on. 

"'Cause I will see who's gonna be making this cut and who's not, ladies. I know what separates the women from the girls. I know who has it and who doesn't. This isn't gonna be all fun-times. You want fun, go to a party. Apathy and half-asses don't make it here. So if any of ya doesn't have one hell of a solid investment in the Minnesota Sprites, you can save us all the trouble; there's the door." 

She gestured for them and waited. None of the girls departed. All forty stayed in place. 

"Good!" Darcy clapped her hands again. "Then I'll assume each of you is serious about this opportunity. Am I right?!" 

Thirty-nine girls responded in unison. "Yes, ma'am!" 

Sara realized she was a little late. "Oh, uh—yes, ma'am!" she called out, echoing her teammates. 

Adair turned to Sara, and approached. Oops. Uh-oh, she swallowed. 

Coach Adair looked her up and down. "What's your name, rookie?" 

"Uh, Sara Kelton, ma'am." 

Darcy waited a moment, and nodded. "You look sharp, Kelton. I hope you can back that up on the field. 

"A'right! Suit up, and outside in fifteen for warm-ups!" Tweet!! 

***** 

"If You Jilled It...She Will Cum" 

Thursday, March 3rd, 2016, 6:14 p.m. 

Tweet!! "Okay, ladies, hit the showers!" 

Sara Kelton, Staycie Dunheuser and the fifteen other girls left in the running for the 2016 Minnesota Sprites vacated the field. 

Sara, was, wrecked. In more ways than one. And she'd thought the workouts with her girlfriend were tough. She'd indeed seen nothing yet at the time. Darcy hadn't been kidding about running them through a gauntlet. Her pertinent skills were being finely tuned, if only at the price of wiping her out. On one hand, she was having the time of her life. She felt like a kid again. On the other hand, she was being reminded on a constant basis that she was not a kid again, as numerous parts of her body were collectively kicking her ass. She was knocking herself out to stay in the running and make the cut, but oh, was it taking its ever-loving toll on her. 

"C'mon, old lady!" called Staycie as she jogged by and spanked Sara's butt. "Race ya!" 

Part of her couldn't help but wonder if this would be easier were she younger, closer to these girls' aver-age. But she couldn't dwell on that. She couldn't change this even if she wanted to. At the beginning of the week, Coach Adair's no-nonsense speech had frankly intimidated her a bit. But she told herself to take that intimidation and turn it into the very heart and determination Darcy said she wanted to see in her players. She reiterated to herself countless times to do one simple thing each day: her best. She didn't know about going past her physical limits, but she knew enough not to let her hopes and expectations float too high. She could be dismissed any day, but if she did her best, that was all she could ask of herself, and she'd leave with a high-held head. But Monday passed, then Tuesday, and Wednesday, and she'd yet to be informed that she was heading home. 

This made it no easier, however, to bid goodbye the girls who didn't make it. Sara felt bad for them, in particular those who were unable to take the news in stride. She perceived making this team could be a big step in their hopes and dreams. When she thought of it this way, Sara almost felt a little guilty, as if she hadn't tried out, she wouldn't have taken a roster spot away from another girl. Not that this wasn't important to her. She may not have been as obsessed as Staycie, but this was a childhood dream for her as well. 

But all of this was only half the story. Sara missed Mel like crazy and especially sleeping cuddled up with her at night. And she had made a deal with herself this week not to think about anything which would confuse her mind—or at least to try not to—and definitely not to touch herself. But...this was before she realized she'd underestimated the situation. Gravely. She was surrounded by forty women including Coach Adair, which she'd anticipated. But she'd failed to predict the impact this massive estrogen injection would gradually make on her. At heart, she was a tried and true one hundred percent lesbian. And her devotion to Melleny Hayes was no less absolute. Alas, this did not immunize her to unbidden stray thoughts entering her mind. 

It didn't matter if a few of them were straight, or most, or all of them. They were female, that was all that mattered. Running, throwing, swinging, huffing, puffing, perspiring—even in 60° early March weather—literally hot girls. And saying goodbye to four or five of them per day didn't curb Sara's urges. She knew this wasn't right; she had a wonderful girlfriend back home, the most beautiful on the planet, and she shouldn't be having these impulses. Unfortunately, this wasn't up to her brain alone. 

Of course, there was nothing wrong in making friends. True, she was here to play softball, not to socialize, but nothing said she and her teammates couldn't spend their off time just shooting the breeze. The problem arose, however, when she would feel those familiar little stirrings inside, and was reminded that she didn't have Mel here to alleviate them for her. Sara wasn't by nature a horn dog, but she was still human. Still a normal sexually functioning woman, with normal needs and desires. She could and would never cheat on Mel, but at the same time, by mid-week, she was starting to seriously need some sort of outlet. 

Much as she wanted to, she could not just go home, grab Mel, make her drop whatever she was doing, and rock her world. At least not until Sunday. The camp was quite a ways from home, and she'd be expected back to the clubhouse and in her bunk along with everyone else, for lights out at 11:00. By Thursday night, the everpresent surge of femininity had her so densely engulfed she could taste it. And the occasional friendly ass-smack from Staycie certainly didn't cool her off. Nor did sharing the shower with her. Even though the thick steam, standing in the presence of her naked teammates soaping themselves under the spray didn't go unnoticed. It was a good thing Sara was protected by her own steam, where no one could see her coy grin, or her perking hard nipples. As the evening agonizingly dragged on, and she finally climbed into her bunk, and the lights at last mercifully went out at the stroke of eleven, she was so sizzlingly fired up, she'd have to think about her grandparents getting nasty just to make a dent in her arousal. 

Finally, she had to give in to her pounding, banshee-like libido. Screw it, we're doing this. Her hand went in for the kill. 

Sara intended only to think of sweet Melleny as she pleasured herself. But Little Sara had other ideas. 

Madame Dunheuser of the Redheads is only one bunk away, Sare. 

Don't even think about thinking about her. We're taken. We're kept women. 

I want Staycie. You know you do too. She's so damn hot! Oh, and that arm! We almost hit one of her pitches the other day. 

Exactly. She's too hot. And she's too fast. She's out of our league. 

Ha, ha. Good one, very punny. Seriously, though, I'm ordering you. Fantasize about her. Right now. 

No way. 

"No"? "No way"??...Allow me to remind you, you're horny right now. Have you forgotten who's in charge when you're horny? 

Make me. 

Oh-ho-ho! Challenge gladly accepted. 

Sara was feeling adventurous, but didn't realize the full power of her stimulation. A blaze of passion tore through her just as Little Sara accepted her challenge. Her head whipped back on her pillow as she fought to keep her voice inside. She prayed her leftover teammates were asleep. Ideally, she'd run to the girls' room to take care of business like this, but Darcy preferred her girls make sure they took care of themselves in the restroom just before bed. Should she drop in just to check on them and hear suspicious noises coming from in there, that wouldn't end well. At least in bed, she could hear if the coach slipped in, and quickly unhand herself. 

It really was almost quiet enough inside the clubhouse to hear a pin drop. So Sara made the extra effort to shuffle the blanket, solely in order to mask the squishy sound of fingering herself. It didn't occur to her that any of the other girls left in the room might also be holding their pussies, either consciously or unconsciously. It was hard to think of anything else except the feeling that she was just a freak jilling one out in her softball clubhouse during sleepy-time. 




Seize the Moments of Your Life



"Ohhhh, Melly-belly," she smile-mouthed. She shut her eyes and conjured her beloved to mind. She liked to summon fantasies of Melleny looking the way she'd looked in 2013 when they'd first met, with bangy brunette tendrils half-covering her indigo-shadowed eyes. Lately, Mel'd been wearing dresses rather than jeans, mascara instead of eyeshadow, and styling her hair a bit differently. This look suited Sara just as well to a tee, and she wouldn't lead Mel to believe otherwise. Sometimes she just liked returning to their earlier days together, when they couldn't keep their hands off one another. She loved Melleny as well either way, but she had to admit those wispy long bangs and that indigo eyeshadow really devastated her. Back when Sara really couldn't resist her. 

"Sara-diddle..." she imagined Melleny replying, addressing her with a double-meaning innuendo. She quietly giggled. 

"Yes, ma'am!" she nodded, arching her back just as she had during their first exercise session. Imagining her hand was Mel's, she burrowed into her autolubed cunt, sending those exquisite loose sparks all over herself. The shock value of her setting gradually wore off as she fell deeper under her own spell. As everything began to accelerate, the fantasy-Mel climbed into Sara's bunk and draped over her hot, randy body. Sara had always been pretty darn awesome at this fantasizing thing, and only got better with experience. Lots of folks were merely good at fantasizing; Sara Jane Kelton had raised it to an art form. 

She definitely hoped everyone was sound asleep now. She writhed on her mattress, pinching her tits one by one as she dug her paw into her pre-cumming pussy. The invisible Mel shifted further up on her, infusing Sara with a supplementary dose of warmth. Just as if Melleny'd really been there, Sara began sweating, struggling to keep her moans whisper-level. Digit-banging herself made Sara feel super-naughty here in the company of these other, younger girls. This only added to the hot-'n'-kinky factor. Being caught would be an all but literal nightmare, but knowing only that she could get caught blazed her so white-hot she wanted to scream. 

Hee hee...I love being bad just by myself. Talk dirty to me, Mellywell. 

"Yes...yes. Ravage that dirty little cunny for me, Saragraph." 

Sara obliged. God, yes, sweetie...more, please, more. 

"Grab your titties. Light your pussy on fire and melt it like wax for me, Saraffin." 

Sara's head flew back on the pillow again, tossing sandy hair all over her wet hot American face. 

AAAAAAAAAAAHHH! OH GODDESS, MELLENY, DON'T STOP NOW! 

"I'm gonna thrust my middle finger in your tushie and d.p. you till you can't stand it anymore, Saraphernalia." 

Sara left the ground, no longer able to discern how close to the edge she was. Fireworks crashed over her. She felt her eyes spin in her head like a slot machine. It could be broad daylight outside and she'd have seen nothing but a psychedelic rainbow. She focused hard enough to feel Mel's finger tickle her asshole, and her pussy started cumming. Indeed, she was already at the edge, needing just a little extra to send her over. Had she been thinking prudently, she'd have hoped she would only mess her jammie bottoms, and not the bed, but she hadn't time for such trivialities just now. Her fantasy received one final suggestive message as her orgasm began firing. Before her mind's eye, Melleny suddenly transformed. She grew taller, and her hair went fiery. And her voice changed. 

"Hey, old lady. How's your pussy like my Fireball?" 

Sara's eyes snapped open. Did...did she just see and hear what she thought she did?? 

St—...St-STAYC—... 

She was afforded no time to think about it. Her orgasm was already fully underway, and she couldn't stop it mid-through if her life literally depended on it. She ecstatically rode it out, silently screeching straight to the end, clenching her thighs, crushing her hand in between. She couldn't function rationally, but if she could, she would've heard her pussy veritably laughing at her. 

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!! I told you, Sara! I told you I'd make you do it! 

The little cunt had tricked her. She'd lured Sara right into her trap. It was Little Sara's plot all along. The first time she'd met Staycie Dunheuser, her pussy'd woken up. The encounter had no effect on her brain or heart, but her emotionless libido operated a little differently. And each time Staycie good-naturedly teased her by calling her "ol' biddy" or "grammy," and spanked her on the ass, Sara did feel a slight twitch on the other side. The butt slap was of course a sportswomanlike teammate gesture, but brought on more weight than desired. Now at this softball camp without Mel around, Sara's pussy was starting to really ache and die for her to jill off, so she could pull this stunt on her owner and force Sara through a skyrocketing orgasm, with Staycie as the launch fuel. 

Sara lay awake a bit longer that night, wondering what to make of this. Should she feel guilty? It was already done; she couldn't go back and not do it, but she didn't exactly have all mental control in the matter either. Her mind, heart and soul had a bit more sense of right and wrong than did her hormones, and...well...she decided to forgive herself. Just as she said she wouldn't, she had not cheated on Melleny. Sara should know better than anyone, fantasizing wasn't infidelity. No one could outlaw fantasy. Heck, for all she knew, Mel had also thought about others while making love to Sara, or to herself. Sara wasn't very wild about this thought, but she'd forgive Melleny as well were this the case. Someone else only in one's mind wasn't wrong. Acting on these thoughts was wrong. 

Just go to sleep, she advised herself as her eyelids grew heavy. It's out of our system now. Another couple days, and we can go back home—at least temporarily—hold our girlfriend in our arms, and make all the glorious love we want. Just go to sleep. 

She did. 

***** 

Suck It, Sierra Mist! 

Sunday, March 6th, 2016, 9:22 a.m. 

Hell Week was over and done with, and the twelve official 2016 Minnesota Sprites had been chosen from the ranks. And astonishing herself far more than anyone else, Sara Kelton was one of them. 

Sunday was the team's free day. There was no game, and as a reward for making the cut, Darcy had granted them the day of rest to just do that if they so desired. Or otherwise basically whatever else they wished. They could hit the field for a makeshift game, they could stay in and relax, or they could take a little trip to their favorite store or restaurant. It was each of their own personal vacation day—or would be, following a little announcement that needed to be made. 

"Sara...Sara!" She felt herself being gently shaken awake. 

"...Hmm?...M—...Mel?" 

"Wh—...'Mel'? No, no, Sara, it's me, Marcie. Wake up, wake up!" 

Sara blinked her eyes open and focused her vision. It was Marcie Pishdal, one of her...teammates? 

"M-Marcie?" she said, sitting up. "But...but, I thought you were...y-y'know..." 

"Well, I was..." replied Marcie, starting to explain. "Or at least I was going to be. But, uh..." 

She paused. Before she could go on, they heard Adair's whistle. Tweeeeeeeet! 

"Good morning, ladies," she called. "Congratulations to each one of you, on acceptance into the 2016 Minnesota Sprites." 

The dozen girls applauded. 

"Now..." Adair waved a hand to calm them down. "...Now, I'm afraid I've some unfortunate news, however. 

"It seems that one of our own has slipped through our cracks. As you may or may not know, girls, midwestern division regulations state that official team rosters cannot be drawn and finalized until the teams have been narrowed down to their chosen players. And also until such time, said players are essentially free agents. Up to the point of becoming official Minnesota Sprites personnel, they retain the option to tryout until cut or accepted, resign their spot, or, if given choice...sign with another team." 

The twelve girls looked around at one another, exchanging general murmuring. For the first time, Sara noticed something. 

"It is with this in mind and being said, team, that I regretfully inform you that Staycie Dunheuser has been offered acceptance to the Madison Longhorns...and she has taken their offer." 

The girls' murmuring grew into normal level conversation to each other, overall nonplussed by the news. Staycie was now and would no longer be part of their team. It was really quite a bit of a blow to them. Staycie'd been a cool person, pretty nice, skilled, with integrity and morale to lead the Sprites on the field. She'd made them hustle and do their best. She'd motivated them. She was good for the team. But now...she was on the other side. She had signed with the Longhorns. The Sprites' sworn adversaries. 

Sara's eyes grew in concern. She whipped her gaze to Marcie, who also looked alarmed. This was indeed what Sara had noticed: Staycie wasn't here. And Marcie was. Yesterday Marcie Pishdal was the last Sprite to be cut, but now with Staycie out of the running, Marcie had been kept in and added to the roster. Sara was glad for her, liking Marcie and her company, but shared in the atmosphere of apprehension in the room. The girls knew they'd be up against the Longhorns if they were going all the way this season. The Longhorns were good. And so was Staycie. She was indeed an ace pitcher. Some of the girls had been thinking Staycie would be their big advantage in going up against their enemies. But she was now one of them. This didn't look good for the Sprites. 

"Well, so, Coach, what are we gonna do?" asked Patty, one of the younger girls. 

"Well, for starters, Miss Dimberg, you're our new ace pitcher," Darcy answered her. "Staycie's a rightie, and you being a southpaw might work a little to our advantage. Most batters are also gonna be righties, who aren't always used to facing leftie pitchers." 

"Yeah, but, Darce," chimed in Lesley, another teammate, "I think what she means is, do you really think we can beat them without Staycie? I mean, clearly they're gonna use her against us. And she already knows us. She knows our strengths and our weaknesses." 

"Good point, Miss Walker," said Darcy. "I won't lie; your unease over this is well-founded. Staycie Dunheuser is an ace pitcher for a reason. That arm of hers is fierce. You've all seen it; I need not elaborate. Now, no team nor player's omnipotent, ladies. No human being is invincible. Yes, we've been dealt a blow, but we can't allow this to break our spirit. We can still win this title. We will hit that field with our heads held high, and we will give our all. And no matter the outcome, we'll know we'll be walking away with honor." 

Her words had the desired effect. The girls' collective confidence grew, and they became fired up. They cheered. 

"That's what I like to hear, Sprites!" Darcy pumped a fist in the air. "While losing one of our troop is unfortunate, it doesn't change what I told you at the start of camp. I still wanna see that determination in your eyes. I still wanna see that heart in your gameplay. I want you all to feel like winners, already, all twelve of you. 'Cause I'm proud of you. You are the official 2016 Minnesota Sprites." 

Another small round of applause and celebration ensued. The next Adair did was produce a laminated document she'd made up. 

"And it is with this in mind I give you our team roster..." She pinned it to the clubhouse bulletin board, disappeared for a moment into her office, and returned carrying a box. The girls' eyes widened with excitement as they noticed what was inside. 

"...And of course, one for everybody, of..." She whipped out the top jersey and unfurled it to show them. "...A-these!" 

The beautiful jerseys were met with equal approval. Each was speckled across the front with a tasteful and sporty picture of a half-human, half-elvin forest sprite wearing a ball cap, the team name framed around the image. The backs were printed with each player's last name and uniform number. Darcy tossed them out, and made one final announcement. 

"And not least but last!" she boomed, clapping her hands. "One more gift for the lot of yas, before I let you go enjoy your free day!" She trotted back into her office once more, returning this time with a full cooler. She popped the top. 

"On behalf of our sponsor...you may now obey your thirst!" The cooler was loaded, foreseeably, with a dozen twelve-ounce bottles of Coca-Cola's famous lemon-lime soda in ice water. And just when the girls thought their gratitude reached the maximum point. 

***** 

The Girlfriend Cummeth 

Sunday, March 6th, 2016, 12:28 p.m. 

Sara sped home, belting out songs in the car along with her stereo until her voice went hoarse. 

"I DID IT!!" she rasped, bursting through the door. 

Melleny was sitting on the floor and blanket with a burrito and the TV remote, watching a game show. She turned to see her. 

"I made the team! I did it! I'm a Minnesota Sprite!" Sara gushed. "My number's 34 and I'm playing short stop!" 

Mel gasped in elation. "Oh my gosh, sweetie, that's fantastic!" she exclaimed, getting to her feet. "Congr—" 

This time she didn't even get as far as the second syllable. Sara all but leapt on her, practically tackling her onto the couch. 

"Oh thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou thank you!" Sara exulted, smothering her in kisses. "My honey bunny, my heart, the love of my life, I owe it all to you." 

Mel laughed. "W—...babe, what're you talking about?" she asked. "I wasn't even anywhere near you this week!" 

"I know, I know," Sara explained. "But in a way, you were. See, every time this week I felt like giving up, or like I didn't have any drive or energy left, I thought of you. And even though you weren't around, your love texts kept me going. They were so encouraging. And I thought, if I gave up...I might let you down. Or, let down that drill sergeant in you who worked me so hard that day!" 

Mel melted. "Oh, darling!" she chortled. "You oughta know better than that. You know nothing you do could ever let me down." 

"No, I know, I know," Sara assured her. "I'm just saying, you really did give me that last little push I needed to make it all the way." 

Her eyes softened and narrowed to a seductive stare. 

"And, eh...speaking of 'all the way'..." 

Melleny's eyebrows arched. She thought she knew where Sara was headed here. And she liked this direction. 

"...Oh?" she inquired. 

Sara nodded. "I, um...I thought a lot about that ever so charming drill sergeant you made yourself into the first time we exercised," she cooed. "And...I found her hot." 

"Aha...so my plan worked, did it?" 

Sara smirked, batting her smoky hazel eyes. "Sweetheart, your benefits for me starting that day were twofold. Not only did the exercising help my performance physically...but, eh..." She caressed a finger along Mel's arm, flipping her eyebrows. 

Melleny tingled. "...Yes?" 

Just to be her quirky self, Sara looked back and forth, as if to make sure no one was listening, even though they were alone in her house. The coast was queer. She leered at Mel and finished. 

"...I've never been so damn turned on in my life." 

Mel wet herself. Her pussy leaked. The shameless declaration turned her on like veritably never before. Sara's grin spread. 

"And I'm gonna take you to bed and work you to the bone now...whether you like it or not." 

After a Sara-less week of no sex, no snuggles, and no lady companionship, Mel felt it safe to say that, yeah, she liked it. So in a bold impulsive mood, Sara got off, scooped her hands under, and lifted Melleny up off the sofa with her newly built muscles. Literally swept off her feet, Mel felt enchanted. She threw both arms around Sara and laid her head on her cushioning breasts. When they got to the bedroom, Mel curled up and tucked her feet under to make it easier for Sara to carry her in. Finally, Sara let her angel down on the mattress, and crawled in beside. Mel reached out her arms for her, and Sara settled in to make Melleny Hayes glad she was hers. 

Ten minutes of intense French kissing in, the girls ceased for breath. 

"Mmm...tell me what you wish me to do to you, Madame Hayes," Sara requested. 

Mel chuckled. "Right, quite," she whispered, affecting a British accent. "You may stawt by mass-aging me shoulduhs." 

"Anything for the queen." In and around their continued making out, Mel urged her lower and lower, treating herself to a lovely intimate body caress. Sara was glad she had the whole day free. She wanted to be thorough, making this as enjoyable a rubdown as possible for the gal who usually performed them herself. This was a wonderful shot of foreplay before getting down to business. She could see her love dove, Madame Hayes of the Baskervilles, becoming visibly excited. Especially as Sara inched down to her thighs. 

Melleny alternatingly slid her legs further apart till she was spread-eagle, granting Sara full access. Sara stretched out on her side, resting her head and cheek on Mel's tummy. In one of her dresses, Sara had easy entry to her panties. She gave smooth strokes down her inner thigh, just barely grazing Mel's bush. Mel wanted to guide Sara's hand back, up into her wet, deprived cunt. But she didn't want her hands to act without her brain's permission, so she burrowed them down into the mattress, behind her back, and lay on them. She then gave her head a flip, tossing her side-swept bangs over her eyes, preferring to see nothing and feel everything. 

When Sara felt she'd enjoyed enough foreplay, she reached for the hem of Mel's panties and dragged them down. Melleny bent her legs and lifted her bottom to help speed along the process. Sara slid them just past the knees and flipped up the front of her dress. There it was. The furry little friend she'd missed so much this week. And she could tell it had missed her just as desperately. It was already warm and moist, yearning for the love only Sara could provide. And oh, did she ever intend to provide. 

She gingerly parted Mel's burning pussy lips, giving way to the wet pink happy-land that lay behind. It was just as warm, wet, wild and welcoming as she'd always remembered. Sara folded her body down into an accordion shape until she could reach with her mouth, started at the taint, and administered one long, slow, loving lick to the top, labia half-ajar, the sides of her tongue brushing either. She heard Mel gasp, moan and whimper—in this order. Each oral gush of thanks melted into the next. Sara resumed, repeating from bottom to top, pausing only to produce more saliva. She watched with attentive eyes as Melleny's clit grew and hardened, gradually bulging from under its hood, finally needing to be fully occupied. Time to switch up her game. 

Bringing her upper hand down to join, Sara pulled back the skin, transferred her delicate licks to Mel's throbbing red clit, and worked into her cunt until she could squeeze three digits in. Melleny's preference was actually the more, the better. She loved to draw Sara's multiple fingers in deeper, press in on them and let the good times roll. Sara smiled jubilantly as she heard her girl cry out in desperate passion. They would both relish this. Clit erect, Sara began to suck. 




Seize the Moments of Your Life



Melleny's eyes popped open under her hair as the hot erotic waves swallowed her. She screamed through them, willing this time to last forever. What made the heart grow fonder did the same for the libido. Mel had not pleasured herself since Sara'd been away. But then, she had also not spent the week with a cadre of younger women, bunking, sweating and showering in their company, which sounded naughty when Sara thought about it. Still, she'd done nothing wrong. But even so, she couldn't help wondering if Melleny thought about her all the time during their acts, or if she ever did in fact fantasize about someone else. She wasn't prepared to ask, because she didn't plan to divulge to Mel that she'd orgasmed to her (former) teammate Staycie Dunheuser. 

Besides, her mouth was busy right now. She went on sucking Mel's clit, thrusting her three right fingers into her cunt, spreading them as they entered, to divide and conquer. The fingers came back together as she pulled three-quarters out, then back in. The next moments were spent at a slow clip. Then Sara worked her up to a quicker pace, never to forget that Melleny did like it pretty wild and raucous. She moderated speed as best she could, but she could barely wait to bring it on up to the maximum and make her go insane. 

Melleny, who really could lie here and stay like this for all eternity and then pass through as a happy woman, struggled to stay still. She didn't suppose she had to worry about her hands misbehaving anymore, so she grabbed for one of the pillows and held it over her face to curb her shrieks. Oh, how she had craved this. Oh, how she'd missed it. Since she'd found and fallen for Sara, making love to herself held little fascination—unless done with Sara's hand. So she'd refrained from any sexual release this week, knowing it would be well worth it when Sara finally got home. And damn, was she right. 

Sara had only in mind to come home and please Mel. If Mel wished to reciprocate, Sara wasn't about to put up a fight, but as far as she was concerned, it was all about Mel right now. She owed her. Mel'd helped make this dream of hers come true. She was a real, official softball player now, due in large part to her girlfriend. True, she was the one who'd gone out there and ultimately made it happen, but Melleny made it possible for her to make it happen. And what better way to say thank you than a little pussy worship? 

She could hear that Mel whole-heartedly agreed, screeching herself hoarse right along with Sara. She could swear her brain exploded. Stray hair pasted all over her helplessly gasping, grimacing face. She felt like she'd died and gone to heaven with a twist. She glimpsed the dinosaur stickers on Sara's bedroom ceiling, and through her hazy vision interpreted them as decorative, colorful cum splatters. This then put her in mind of zero-gravity outer space, which she coincidentally felt herself spiraling through. She was no longer bound to Earth's concrete laws. She could float free, liberated to grace the orgasmic portals Sara guided her towards. 

Her mind spun, shaken up by yet another series of swirls and whirls, of goodness and joy. Soon the cumulative whirlwind would be more than she could handle, which of course meant only one thing: the big impending 'o.' She thought briefly that she had better signal Sara it was cumming—quite literally—but didn't think she could locate the necessary means. Besides, Sara could tell; having been with her for over two years now, she was certainly astute enough to pick up on her climactic patterns. 

"AAAAAHHH! AAAAAAHHHH! AAAAAAAHHHHH! AAAAAAAAAAHHH!! SAAAAAARRR-AAAAAAAAAAHHH!!" Mel howled. 

Sara just went on her business, cool as a cucumber, grinning with satisfaction at her finesse. That's right, scream my name. 

If her dynamic caterwauling wasn't evidence enough that she was hitting the big one, what happened next certainly was. Melleny's limbs locked in place, fingers and toes outspread, as her cum monstrously blasted out of her, caking Sara's fingers. 

Sara felt the effect, and counted the seconds following. After seven, that was her cue. Mel was done, and her erect clit would feel sore and achey if sucked on anymore. Melleny was a fragile flower anyway, emotionally and sexually, and needed some time alone post-sex to let the oversensitivity go away. Her head lolled over to the side on her pillow, and her eyes fluttered closed. 

Sara let herself down on the bed, pranced off to clean herself, returned and climbed back in with Mel, exercising the utmost care. Her girlfriend was still wearing her purple dress, which concealed a lot, but anyone could tell what she'd just been sent through. Sara watched her as she calmed down and drifted to slumberland, the most beauteous, wondrous creature she'd ever seen or met. 

"I love you too...Melleny Alison Hayes." 

***** 

Hardball 

Tuesday, March 22nd, 2016, 11:10 a.m. 

Two weeks later. Sara had made a deal with Team, Inc. that if she made the Sprites, they'd allow her to begin telecommuting, supplying her with her own laptop so she could continue working remotely while on the road. She was highly grateful for the cooperation, and flattered as well that her employers evidently thought enough of her to let her work this way. The team was turning in an equally impressive performance thus far. Coach Darcy Adair's pep talks and arduous team drills were paying off. Of their first six games, the Sprites had won five. The other ended in a 5-5-run tie. Technically, they remained undefeated. 

They had yet to play the Longhorns—or to play a game in their own hometown—but before they knew it, the day had come for both events. March 22nd would be the teams' first showdown against each other, with Juniper hosting. If they could win—or even tie—this game, it would bode well for the season. Most of the girls were relaxing around the clubhouse this morning, resting up before the bout. One girl was teaching a couple of others how to meditate and find their centers, a strategic move in preparing for battle. 

Sara was craving some fresh air. She meandered to the field, having a seat in front of the dugout. She was a bit nervous, she had to admit. Her friends and loved ones had taken the day off for this very occasion. Jake and Mel would be here, as well as their folks and Sara's own, and a couple of the Hayes sisters who were free. Sara wanted to make them proud, even if she knew they already were. 

"Well, well." 

There was that semi-familiar voice behind her again. Sara turned her gaze back to see... 

..."Staycie?" 

The former Sprite and current Longhorn pitcher shrugged. "One and the same. Dunheuser's the name, pitchin''s my game." 

Sara stood and reversed her short course. 

"...What're you doing here?" 

"Doing here?" Staycie made a thoughtful face. "Well, first and foremost, boasting entrance into the world via my Mama's delivery chute back in '90..." she mused. "Which brings us to present day. And it wouldn't be much of a game without a pitcher out there." 

Sara made a face of her own. "No, no," she shook her head, waving off this nonsense. "I mean...the game doesn't start until 1:00." 

"Ah, yes," nodded Staycie, blowing on her nails, pretending she hadn't known what Sara was talking about. "Well, y'see, Kelts, I kinda just thought I'd see how you were doing today." 

She smiled cordially. Somehow, this struck Sara suspicious. As if by being nice, Staycie was trying to put her off her game—literally and figuratively. To lower her guard. Well, if this was the case, she'd underestimated. Sara had something else in mind to discuss. She stared at Staycie for a few silent moments, letting the disapproval come through in her eyes. 

"Why'd you do it, Staycie?" she finally asked. "Why? Why would you just walk out on us like that, without so much as a goodbye? You just...you just vanished. I woke up that morning, you were gone. You didn't even tell me. I...I thought we were friends, Staycie. And I thought we had a camaraderie. That we were gonna be in this together. But never mind me; what about running off on the others? I mean, what the hell was so great about the Longhorns that you'd give us up, and move an entire state away?" 

Staycie shrugged matter-of-factly once more, missing hardly a beat. 

"Quite simple, really; they're interested in offering me a career in the bigs." 

Sara's eyebrows arched. "You mean, the..." 

Staycie nodded proudly. "You got it, ol' lady: NPF itself. Our manager's got an in with the Chicago Bandits, and if my record's good enough this season, they'd like to have me tryout for them." 

This revelation provoked a spectrum of reactions in Sara's mind, corresponding to her various moods: from, "Wow! Oh my gosh, well, that's great! Good for you, Stayce!" all the way to, "Well, that is a big opportunity, but I still don't think you should've run out on us the way you did." Before she could decide which one to voice out loud, Staycie went on. 

"However," she continued, "I was there with you guys when you tried out for the Sprites, and I can vouch; you guys did a hell of a job. You deserve to be on that team. So..." She sucked air through her teeth, as if trying to work past a bit of awkwardness. 

"...I also wanted to have a quick word with ya, just in private, to, eh...throw out something of a proposition." 

Sara hadn't any clue what she could be alluding to, but she was willing to listen. 

"You see, you and your girls know what a longstanding rivalry our teams have," Staycie began, "And, well, not to toot my own horn, but you also know how good I am. I, on the other hand, understand how much a victory over the Longhorns means to the Sprite legacy, and especially to Adair. So here's what I's thinkin', Kelts." 

Staycie took a step closer, and coyly but slyly smirked at her. 

"While I'm not prepared to...'throw' the game, I might be willing to, shall we say, go a little 'easy' on you guys, and especially you... 

"...If...you, Kelts, agree to come tonight to the Holiday Inn where I'm staying, on Berrywood and 17th...and sleep with me." 

Staycie finished, leaving it at this. Sara gaped at her, eyebrows positioned completely differently from the way they'd been thirty seconds ago. She tried to process what she had just heard—if in fact her ears weren't playing a gag on her. Staycie could not have been serious. Sara had told her all about Mel. She'd brought her up numerous times during the short while they hung out. In fact, other than their mutual love of softball, Mel was just about all Sara talked about. What could possibly make Staycie think Sara would even consider taking her up on such a disgraceful offer? Sara didn't even know she was gay, but this was way beside the point. 

Finally, Sara dropped her brows back down into a disapproving glower, and shook her head. "That is not funny." 

Staycie cocked her head an inch. "I'm sorry, Kelts?" 

Um, Sara? came the little voice from between her legs. May I have a quick word with you? 

Sara continued shaking her head, tone escalating. "Staycie Dunheuser, if that's supposed to be cute or charming, it's not. That is in truly sick taste. If that's your idea of initiating things with someone, I frankly feel sorry for you. You are repulsive for having the balls alone to ask me to do such a thing. You run out on the team and then expect me to betray them? I wouldn't sell out the Sprites for a billion dollars. But forget about that! Just supposing I were the kind of person who'd do something so sleazy and disgusting. Leaving aside for just a second your sheer arrogance and temerity, did you just completely forget about my girlfriend??" 

Staycie held innocent focus on her, barely fazed. "...Is that a no?" 

Sara? her pussy repeated. Can we talk? 

Sara fake-laughed in utter causticity, ignoring her little friend. 

"I cannot believe you!" she exclaimed. "I just don't even beli—...you are the most self-indulgent, reprehensible...insane person I've ever met! How dare you even think I'd debase myself—not to mention make a mockery of my relationship—for any reason?!" She scoffed, unable to swallow something so despicable—not to mention downright ridiculous. Staycie didn't have much integrity after all. She really was lower than Sara could've guessed, lower in fact than slug spit. After all this, her dismission had barely any impact. 

"Very well," scowled Staycie, clearing her throat. She evidently in turn found it hard to swallow that Sara—or anyone else—would turn down the opportunity to have sex with her. Devoid of scruples as Sara sensed she was, she was quite wounded and indignant at the rejection, and magnitude thereof. "In that case, I wish you a lot of luck in the game today...'cause you're gonna need it." 

She turned up her nose and began walking away. Sara didn't wish to let her have the last word in the matter, however. 

"Oh yeah??" Sara called after. "Well, joke's on you, little girl, 'cause I'd rather lose with integrity than win by prostituting myself!" 

She waited until Staycie disappeared, then returned to the clubhouse. She acted natural sifting through her teammates, and slipped into Coach Darcy Adair's office in the back, hoping no one noticed the slight wet spot in the front of her uniform's pants. 

Adair looked up. "Ya need something, Miss Kelton?" 

Sara shut the door. "Yes, Darcy. I need to talk to you, in private." 

***** 

"...And There Isn't Any In Softball, Either!!" 

Tuesday, March 22nd, 2016, 12:54 p.m. 

Sara didn't want her teammates to know what happened—at least not yet—and Darcy agreed. They had an important game coming up, and didn't need to weigh down the girls' minds with such worries. It would be better for team morale to keep this secret for now, letting everyone remain focused on the game, to turn in their finest performance. But Darcy assured Sara that she'd done the right thing by coming to her immediately. Again, they had a game to play, and there was no time to take any sort of action right now, but this was serious. This was real sexual harassment. And they weren't prepared to let Miss Staycie Dunheuser get away with it. 

Sara was so consumed with this upsetting turn of events, she forgot all about her family and friends coming until they arrived. This was a lovely and welcome diversion. Sara chose as well not to tell her loved ones of Staycie's advances until after the game, for basically the same reason. They were here to enjoy the game, not to be sucked into Staycie's little web of manipulation. She stole a chance to greet them before they took their spots in the bleachers. Melleny was the last to go and sit after Sara talked to her. 

"Oh my gosh, I am so happy you guys came!" she told Mel. "Thank you!" 

"Oh, sweetie, we wouldn't miss it for the world!" Melleny smiled. 

Sara suddenly sniffled, feeling something tug at her heartstrings. 

"...I know...I know. You guys are the best. You all really do love me. I...erm..." She gulped. "I dunno what I did to deserve you." 

Mel's face softened. 

"Are you crying?" 

Sara chuckled sheepishly, looking down at she swiped at her eyes. She heard Mel repeat her question. 

"Are you crying??" 

Sara began laughing through her approaching tears. She knew where this was going. 

"I know! I know!" she nodded, holding up her hand. 

"Don't make me go all Tom Hanks on you, rookie!" Mel grinned, pointing a finger. 

"I won't. Now kiss me. Just don't make me go weak in the knees." 

"I can't promise that, Sara." 

They locked lips, holding hands at the waists. Wherever she was, Sara hoped Staycie got to see this kiss. 

And she hoped it made her crawl with suffering. 

***** 

Chevys and Rockys 

Tuesday, March 22nd, 2016, 1:00 p.m. 

"Play ball!" shouted the ump. The Sprites headed to their positions on the field for the top of the first inning. Patty Dimberg took the pitching area. The Longhorns' leadoff hitter, a rightie named Terri Cooke, stepped into the batter's box. Patty knew she preferred pitches on the outer half, as these were easier for her to hit, so strategically, she'd pitch to this girl dense and tight. She wound up, windmilled her arm, whipped the ball, and Terri swung. The ball fouled off behind her for strike one. The game was underway. 

Sara watched the first inning unfold from her position at short, just midway between second and third base. She'd of course already had some moments to shine in previous games, both on offense and defense, but once again, this was the first time she'd be playing right in front of her own few fans. After the first out, the Longhorns drove a base hit to right, putting a girl on first, who advanced to second when the next batter hit a grounder. The Longhorn who came to bat next laid down a bunt, which came right Sara's way. She gasped. Here came her first play. The runners began racing to second and third. Sara trotted up a few steps, planted her feet in position, scooped up the ball and flipped it to second. Foot on the base, her teammate Shelly at second caught it in time, then turned to throw to first. Lesley Walker caught the ball at first, just before the batter reached it. The fans cheered. Double play! 

The side was retired. The teams switched places, and the Sprites were up. Once the Longhorns took the field, Sara noticed that curiously enough, Staycie was not pitching. Perhaps they were saving her for later innings. Leading off was another new pal of Sara's named Linny, who fielded right beside her at third. She missed the first pitch, then sent a line drive to right center for a base hit. 

Sara was batting fifth in the order. So she had a bit of waiting to do, as did her small fanbase in the bleachers. While she did, her mind wandered a bit. With as much both current and classic pop culture as she'd accumulated in her thirty years—which was quite a bit—as she tended to do, she began thinking of the game as an action sports movie, with a compelling soundtrack of driving rock music. An old random song in her collection which she'd just heard recently—"American Heartbeat" by Survivor—served the setting well. It came out a few years before she was born, at the same time as the band's Rocky anthem "Eye Of The Tiger." Both songs could dynamically capture the game's key moments. Sara played them to herself in her head as she watched. 

"The night's alive with wind and fire/We telegraph our hearts' desire/Through the night with our eyes.../Wheels are turning fast and hard/Hearts are burning on the boulevard/Hear them pound, young and proud/It's the American heartbeat!" 

"It's the eye of the tiger/It's the thrill of the fight/Rising up to the challenge of our rival/And the last known survivor/Stalks her prey in the night/And she's watching us all with the eye...of the tiger!" 

The Sprites were put out to end the first inning. The second played out similarly, several batters—including Sara—making it on base but not back home. There was still no score until the top of the third, when the Longhorns got hot with a series of base hits, finally sending one of their girls all the way to home plate to take the lead: 1-0. Fortunately for the Sprites, they were able to hold off the Longhorns from scoring any more runs this inning, but unfortunately, they could not score themselves to tie things up.