Playing the Field Volume 2 Box Set

Batter Up-5

It’s a little after ten when they get back to the hotel. Rob bypasses the front lobby and lets Mike direct him to park around the side, where shadows hide most of the lot. Rob backs into a particularly dark spot and cuts off the truck. The sudden quiet is broken only by the faint ticking sound of the engine cooling down. In the darkened cab, Rob reaches over and places a hand on Mike’s bare knee.

Mike’s hand covers Rob’s and pulls it up his thigh. The fingers curl into Rob’s palm with a familiar thrill. “Want to come on up?”

Leaning heavily on Mike’s leg, Rob stretches across the distance between them and kisses Mike’s cheek. “You sure it’s cool?”

“I’ve got a single room,” Mike assures him. “The rest of the team is probably still in the hotel bar getting good and sloshed. We sneak in the back, head upstairs, get our groove on…”

His next kiss lands on Mike’s lips. “Then lead the way.”

Using his room key card to unlock the hotel’s side entrance, Mike leads Rob to the elevator and on up to the third floor. Despite his assurance that none of his teammates will see them, he keeps his hands to himself. In the elevator, Rob eases an arm along the railing behind Mike, but it isn’t a real touch and they both know it. When they exit onto the third floor, Rob lets his hand rest on the small of Mike’s back briefly, then drops it to the waistband of Mike’s shorts. His finger hooks into a belt loop, and he lets Mike pull him down the corridor to a room at the far end.

Though they’re alone, Mike murmurs, “We’re all on the same floor. If anyone sees us—”

“They won’t,” Rob assures him.

Inside the hotel room, a single lamp burns beside the bed. Most of the room is cast in shadows, giving it a sudden intimacy Rob likes. He lets the door close behind him and leans back against it, tugging on Mike’s belt loop. Mike takes a step forward but doesn’t get far before Rob reels him back. When Mike stumbles against him, Rob wraps his arms around Mike’s waist and noses aside the hair along the nape of Mike’s neck. “Come here,” he whispers against Mike’s skin.

Warm hands fold over his. They give a gentle squeeze, then smooth up Mike’s stomach, pushing his shirts up out of the way. Rob unbuttons the front of Mike’s shorts, then eases down the zipper. Through the open fly, Mike’s c**k bulges against the front of his boxers, pressing into Rob’s palms. Thick, stiff, a good size, from the heft of it. Rob can’t wait to lay Mike down and wrap his lips around his shaft.

With Mike’s help, he pushes down the shorts. When Mike leans over to step out of them, Rob catches the hems of his shirts and lifts them to expose a tanned, firm backside. At the base of his spine is a pert little dimple, just above the crack in his ass. Rob plants his next kiss into that twinkled hollow, then trails his tongue up the ridges of Mike’s spine, pushing up the shirts as he goes. Mike shrugs out of his shirts, first the unbuttoned overshirt, then the tight tank top underneath. Rob sees a dark tattoo in the middle of Mike’s back, between the shoulder blades—some sort of Oriental lettering, which Rob traces with his tongue as he rubs his hands over Mike’s shoulders.

Turning in Rob’s arms, Mike presses his mouth to Rob’s in a hungry kiss. “Your turn,” he murmurs into Rob as his hands tickle down Rob’s chest. They pull his shirt free from his shorts, then smooth under the fabric to rub over his taut stomach. “So firm,” Mike purrs. “God, I love a man in shape. You work out?”

Another opening where he can mention he plays ball, too.

Another moment he lets slip by. “You could say that.” Rob grabs the bottom of his shirt in both hands and tugs it up over his head. Before it’s even clear, Mike is kissing him again. Then Rob tosses the shirt aside and hurries to unbuckle his belt.

Mike beats him to it. His nimble fingers are down the front of Rob’s shorts in seconds, pushing the zipper wide. The shorts drop to the floor in a sigh of fabric, the belt buckle thudding gently on the carpet. As Mike kisses him again, Rob steps out of the shorts, then steps on the back of his sneakers one at a time to get rid of those, too. Mike backs up, giving Rob room. Another step takes off his left sock, the next, his right. When he’s as nude as Mike, he wraps his arms around the shortstop and presses their naked bodies together. They meet like two pieces of a puzzle, each fitting nicely into the other.

Rob’s hands cup Mike’s buttocks, pulling them up and apart, separating them as he pulls Mike close. With a moan, Mike steps back, not to put distance between them but in an attempt to guide Rob to the bed. The room is small, and they don’t have far to go—another step or two and the back of Mike’s knees bump against the side of the mattress. He falls back on it, suddenly out of Rob’s embrace, and Rob grins down at the beautiful, hard, naked man smiling back.

“There are condoms in my suitcase,” Mike says. One hand drifts down over Rob’s chest, as if reluctant to stop touching him. He tilts his head to one side, indicating the open suitcase beside the television stand. “Lube, too. If we’re going to do this…”

“Hell, yeah, we are,” Rob assures him. Catching Mike’s hand in his, he raises it to his lips and kisses the battered knuckles. “Wait right here.”

He hurries to the suitcase. It rests on a small stand provided by the hotel specifically for this purpose. The suitcase is on its back, open, and the clothing inside is so neatly packed, Rob almost hates to ruffle through it looking for the condoms. Then he notices the zippered mesh bag hanging on the inside of the suitcase’s upper half. A handful of condoms are tucked inside, along with a well-used tube of super-slippery silicone lubricant.

Unzipping the bag, he grabs a condom and the lube. When Rob turns around, Mike has stretched out on the bed in an inviting pose—on his back, Mike props himself up on his elbows and gives Rob a come hither look that shoots straight through him to stiffen his d**k. One of Mike’s legs is straight, the toes on his foot pointing at Rob; the other is hitched up, the knee leaning a bit to the side, allowing Rob an honest look at the balls hanging low between Mike’s legs. Above the ruddy, hairy sacs, Mike’s c**k stands hard as an exclamation point, lying flush against his lower belly.

“Like what you see?” Mike asks, a playful smile tugging up one corner of his mouth.

Rob’s throat closes, his mouth dries up, and his tongue swells, rendering him speechless. My God, he thinks, looking at the tanned flesh burnished by the lamp beside the bed. I want that, every inch of that. I want it now.

Crossing to the bed, he kneels at the foot of the mattress between Mike’s spread legs. The condom and lube fall from his hands; he doesn’t need them yet. Instead he crawls toward Mike, his arms catching under Mike’s knees to pull Mike’s legs up around his head as he leans into Mike’s center. A faint musky scent drifts up to him, a sexy smell that clenches his balls. Licking out his tongue, Rob touches it to the dimple in the center of Mike’s balls, just below where his c**k begins.

Mike gasps, his legs shuddering in Rob’s arms.

Dipping down, Rob traces the curve of Mike’s scrotum, down one side, around the bottom, then up the other. Mike sobs, “Yes!” His legs cross behind Rob’s head, his ankles locking together, and he squeezes his knees together in an attempt to draw Rob closer. “Please.”

He doesn’t have to beg. Rob licks under the soft sac, nosing it aside to delve into the cleft of Mike’s buttocks. He tastes the hint of puckered skin; when his tongue rubs over the hole, Mike’s whole body strums with pleasure, and little whimpering sounds escape Mike’s throat. “Yes,” he sighs, throwing his head back so it hangs above the pillows. “Where did you learn that?”

Rob smiles, his hot breath fanning Mike’s genitals and wafting back up at him. He kisses Mike’s scrotum, then turns his attention to the main attraction, the piece de resistance, the star of the show. He’s been looking forward to this all evening, and allows himself a moment to savor the sight of Mike’s erect c**k rising above him like an obelisk of power before he tongues the base and sets it aquiver.

Slowly he moves up, inch by inch, memorizing each vein, each freckle, each wrinkle along the way. Up Mike’s length, around the shaft, like a child studiously devouring a delicious lollipop, Rob uses his lips and tongue to knead his way to Mike’s cockhead. His nose bumps the flared tip first, then Rob’s mouth covers over it. The taste of salty pre-c*m fills his senses. Mike thrusts up into Rob, who opens wide to take in as much of the thick d**k as he can. His lips sink down Mike’s smooth length almost to the base, where dark, kinked hair tickles Rob’s nose.

Using his cheeks and throat and tongue, Rob works Mike’s c**k until the weeping tip threatens to overflow. Then Rob pulls back and looks down at this evening’s lover. Mike has dropped his elbows and lies spread out on the bed, sweat beading on his chest and temples, and in the faint stubble above his upper lip. Leaning over, Rob kisses away the drops, then catches Mike’s lip between both of his. “f**k me,” he growls.

Mike’s response is a slight nod, barely there. Suckling on Mike’s lip, Rob finds the condom by touch alone and tears open the package. His fingers know the routine without thought, and within seconds, the condom is rolled down onto Mike’s stiff c**k.

Rob sits back, retrieves the lube, and squirts a healthy dollop onto the tip of the condom. With rough hands, he rubs it along Mike’s length, pulling back when Mike starts bucking into his palms. Not yet, he thinks, squirting more lube into his hands and rubbing them together. I’m not letting that go to waste, not tonight.

When both hands are slick with lube, Rob grabs his own c**k and slathers it, then dips lower to douse his balls. Spreading his knees a little, he reaches behind him and runs his hands down the crack in his ass, then leans over when his forefingers find his tight hole. The pain is sharp but not unpleasant; both fingers pierce into his ass, rimming him, stretching him, widening him for Mike’s entry. He gasps in lust, and Mike reaches forward to stroke Rob’s c**k. “Don’t do it all yourself,” he chides.

Rob lets himself be guided into position—he climbs over Mike’s knees and sits on the flat of Mike’s belly. He lets Mike’s hands push him back, then feels the arrowed tip of Mike’s c**k slide against the cleft of his buttocks. He gets up on his knees and reaches behind him to hold Mike’s c**k steady. Back, over a little, wait for it, wait…

The bulbous head butts against his hole, presses for one breathless moment, then pushes in with a familiar burn that makes Rob cry out in passion. “Yes!” he gasps, sinking down as he impales himself on Mike’s erection. “God, you’re huge. f**k me, f**k me.”

Mike grasps Rob’s hips as they begin to move in an age-old rhythm. The bed thumps against the wall with each thrust; if any of Mike’s teammates are home next door, they’ll have no doubt what their shortstop is up to right now. Thud, thud, punctuated by Mike’s breathy moans and Rob’s lusty cries. “f**k me,” and “harder,” and “Jesus Christ, harder, uh uh uh.” Like a well-oiled machine, their bodies move in synch, their movements melding together into one thrusting, pumping, f*****g creature fumbling toward ecstasy and nearing release.