The championship has been won, the dream has bee fulfilled, and our story starts to come to an end. This chapter and the next one will close the door on some of our characters, at least as far as this part of their story goes. Chapter 64 will close our window into the lives of the boys of Mayfield. Enjoy a final look at your favorite characters.
The Chapter One disclaimers keep applying. If you enjoyed the trilogy, and I know you did or you wouldn't still be reading it, please be sure to donate to the Nifty Archive.
Douglas at thehakaanen@hotmail.com
CHAPTER 62 LIVING THE DREAM
<Sunday, May 26, Mayfield, The Bear Pizza Parlor>
Gary Miller, the owner of The Bear, closed off the party room to all but the Mayfield Mustang baseball team and a few select alumni. Before heading for their own homes, they wanted some time together. Except for the team banquet, this would probably be the last time they would ever sit together as a team. They talked about it on the bus, and agreed that they wanted to be together for a while before heading home. They wanted to be able to celebrate and compare notes outside of the chaotic confines of the visitors' clubhouse at Safeco Field. The bus, with everybody separated by the high seat backs, was not the proper place for the gathering they wanted.
As they dug into their pizzas, they talked about the dream, and how it started in the school lunchroom, at least until Marty expressed his opinion.
"I swear, if I hear somebody mention that fucking table in the lunchroom one more time, I'm gonna pull down that person's pants and spank the hell out of him."
"School lunch table," Kevin said with a laugh. He quickly unbuckled and unzipped his pants. "This should make it easier for you to get my pants off."
"You are such a perv, Kevin," Hunter said. "If anybody would enjoy a spanking it would be you."
"All I want is to have somebody remember who it was that crashed your first meeting saying that you guys weren't ever gonna win the State Championship twice without winning the first one, and to do that you needed us seventh graders. Do you remember who said that?" Marty asked.
"I would swear it was somebody who looked like you, but was younger and cuter," Eric said.
"And from that moment on you knew you wanted me," Marty said with a chuckle.
"Did you guys know that the last two innings were being televised statewide?" Rich asked. Rich had brought his radio and ear buds to the game, and listened to the broadcast.
"Yeah, we got told that at the little press conference," Kevin said. "Well, it was not quite so little thanks to Mister Perfect over there."
"Don't even start with that name," Eric said. "This is all about the Mustangs, not about me." Eric was still upset about having upstaged the team with his historic game. He loosened up a little when he added, "But, if I'm Mister Perfect, then you have to take credit for being the perfect catcher."
"Remember, you did shake me off once."
"Yeah, and you ended up being right. Noah saved a base hit after that gaff."
"I guess we preempted an international soccer match," Rich said, returning to his original subject.
"We took the place of England against Spain," Noah said.
"How do you know all of this shit?" Marty asked.
"A deadly combination of brains and research works for me."
"What I can't figure out is how they suddenly came up with all of the info about us and The Go to State Team," Hunter said. "Why did they suddenly start looking for that info and where did they find it?"
"Suddenly we're on state-wide television, so they needed some filler. Since the information was published in the Mayfield Weekly, it was obviously accessible," Noah said.
"You know what's really unbelievable?" Lars asked. "During the whole tournament nothing was made of over half of us being gay. It's not like it was a big secret."
"Maybe here in the county, but it might not have been so well known in the Seattle area," Noah said.
"Jin had to know," Blaine said. "The way he hates us, I'm surprised he didn't tell his teammates about how we have a bunch of faggots on the team. No offense, guys.'
"None taken," Kevin said.
"Jin doesn't hate us," Noah said. "He might not be the most gregarious dude on the planet, but I doubt he hates us. After all, yours truly helped him in his early prep school years."
"You did?" Lars asked. "How?"
Noah's eyes twinkled behind his glasses. "By teaching him the art of the blow job, how else?"
That elicited a few good-natured comments from his teammates.
"Like us or hate us, that bunt in the seventh was pretty low class," Hunter said. "That would make me think he hates us."
"Why is it low class?" Kevin asked. "It might not have been nice, but it wasn't low class."
"Oh, bullshit," Blaine said. "He was trying to break up Eric's perfect game with a bunt. That, my friend, is low class."
"I agree with Kevin," Marty said.
"You weren't playing. You were in the stands. To us, it was low class," Blaine insisted.
"Kevin and Marty are right," Eric said. "Think about it this way— they're playing for the State Championship and it's the bottom of the seventh, down by four. If Jin gets on, he has some really good hitters coming after him. He knows they have to be due to hit. He knows Brandon has hit me hard twice. There is nobody out and if he gets on base, he's got something started. Who knows what could happen from there?"
"If it was me," Noah said, "I might have bunted, too. I'm an excellent bunter, and I bet Jin is as well. The booing was really uncalled for. That said, I think Jin was wrong to do it."
"They were down by four runs in the seventh," Lars said. "One baserunner isn't going to make that big a difference."
"It could get something started," Kevin said. "Eric might be getting tired."
"Well, the booing did shake Jin up though," Hunter said. "The next pitch was almost over his head and he swung at it."
"I noticed he conveniently disappeared after the game," Noah remarked. "I never saw him in the handshake line or in the clubhouse."
The boys talked more about the game, about Eric making history, and how good the pizzas were at The Bear. It was a convivial gathering of teammates and friends who didn't want to let go of maybe the crowning moment of their young lives. They not only had put together back-to-back states titles, they'd done it behind the greatest state championship game ever pitched.
"I hear you guys were a little bit calmer on the bus than we were last year," Marty said, referring to the near orgy on the team bus coming back from Pasco after their first state title.
"If you mean there was no sex, then you are right," Kevin said. "Even Chandler and Korey were good."
"Not everybody was good," a high pitched voice came from behind them. Marty and Kevin, as well as a couple of others at their table, turned to look at the speaker.
"You never looked in the back seats," Jeffrey said with a wicked grin. "But me and Nicky left our mark on the floor."
"Oh, gawd, save us all from the horniness of middle school boys," Marty said.
"They have no decorum...none at all," Noah said, giving his brother a look that said, "Damn, bro, you are one hell of a horn dog."
Not long after that the party finally broke up. The boys, even those with boyfriends, all went to their own homes. It seemed the right time to be with family.
Getting out of the door of the pizza parlor was not easy for many of them. There were some hugs and some tears. Nobody was ashamed to let his emotions show. The seniors had been together building their dream for six years. It was hard to let go.
<Sunday, May 26, the Bednarzyck residence>
Marty and Jeffrey arrived at the Bednarzyck residence just as George, Lois, and Sammy were finishing dessert.
"There's plenty of ice cream left," Lois Bednarzyck said.
"Like you gotta ask twice," Jeffrey said. He dashed into the kitchen and soon returned with two bowls of vanilla ice cream topped by thick chocolate syrup. He handed one of them to Marty.
"I take it you both had plenty of pizza," Mr. Bednarzyck said.
"It was adequate," Marty replied with a wind grin that indicated it was more than adequate.
After the table was cleared and the dishwasher filled, Marty and Mr. B spent over an hour in the solarium discussing Marty's finals week, the incredible weekend at Safeco Field, especially Eric's game, and sobriety.
"The pressure on the team not to make a mistake the last two innings must have been horrific," Mr. B said.
"I would have been freaking out if it was me out there, except, maybe, for one thing."
"What's that?"
"Eric's little pep talk. Kevin told me about it. Eric ignored the jinx that says don't talk about an ongoing no-hitter and talked about it in the dugout before they went out for the seventh. I guess he told the team to just relax and play to win. I think him talking like that meant the world to everybody. To some people, it might have looked like the Mustangs had that game won. I was thinking those Orcas were ready to explode."
"I was thinking the same thing, that it would only take the slightest of breaks to get them right back into the game; which is why Jin's bunt attempt wasn't the total breach of etiquette that had so many upset."
"It didn't happen that way, and you know one big reason for it?"
"Sure, your buddy, Eric."
"People talked about me being a leader, but all I did was yell and cuss and cross beer party lines. Eric was the leader from day one, even my last couple of years when he was quiet and left the leading to me and my class. And then, just like today, just when you wonder if you can handle the tension, he says to just go and play ball, and everybody goes, "ahhhhh." That is why we all love and respect him so much."
The last thing they talked about was Marty's father. George B reminded Marty to think about what he had learned about not holding resentments in and by giving your love to your enemy.
"Do you plan to talk to him this summer?" Mr. B asked.
"Not if I can help it. I know you don't like that answer, Sparky, but I'm not ready."
"You keep saying that, and you'll never be ready."
"Then maybe I'll never be ready."
"I think God has a plan, whether you like it or not."
"As long as he doesn't let me in on it, I can happily ignore it.'
[GEORGE BEDNARZYCK]
After Marty left for his little apartment, I sat in my recliner nursing a cup of orange spice tea, thinking about the young man I loved as much as my own sons. Hell, he all but is my son. I thought about how he'd come a long way since I met him as a broken thirteen year old boy. Yet even at nineteen, he is still an adolescent in many ways. The young man still has a lot of maturing to do, but it will come in its own time—it will most definitely come.
I also thought about the chat Jeffrey and I had after dinner last week. I was sitting in the solarium, reading and listening to music. Lois was helping Sammy with his math in the dining room. I had no clue what the Hurricane was doing until he came flying into the room, landing on the couch. He was wearing nothing but a torn t-shirt and a loose fitting pair of white briefs. His left nut was hanging out one of the leg openings. I was about to suggest he tuck it back inside his underpants. I put that thought on hold when he started talking. I've learned not to interrupt him when he got into a talkative mood, which happened frequently.
"Hey, dad, got a minute?" My time for quiet reflection had ended quickly.
"For you, always."
"Except when you're in your office or you're doing a sober talk with Marty or unless it's an emergency."
"Okay, except then." That kid doesn't know how quickly he can bring a smile to my heart. "What can I help you with?"
"I need to make a confession."
"Indeed? Do you need me or a priest?"
"Just you, unless a priest is interested in knowing I'm gay."
Admittedly, his confession did not surprise me, both in its content and its lack of subtlety. Nevertheless, I had to suppress a bit of shock. Jeffrey had never been one to beat about the bush, but this was really quite sudden. "When did you decide this?"
"I didn't decide it. It's the way I am. Just like Marty is gay, and Nicky is gay, and Noah is gay—like how all those gay guys are gay. It's the way they are. And it's the way I am."
"Do you think you're gay because Marty is gay?" I didn't think that was the case, but I did have to ask that question so he knew where his old man was coming from.
"Oh, hell, no. I'm gay because I was born gay, and because I have a boyfriend."
"That boyfriend being Nicky I take it." I ignored the minor expletive. Like I said, it's not a good idea to try to interrupt a Hurricane. I thought about asking if the two of them were sexually active. I decided that would be a dumb question. I knew that Jeffrey had been sexually active with Marty for years.
"Yes. We love each other and we do sex in case you didn't know, but I am pretty sure you did know, because you're a pretty smart dad. And thanks for not telling us to stop having sex, because we would have kept doing it anyway, and I don't like doing stuff you tell me not to do."
I couldn't help but shake my head. This was a typical conversation with Jeffrey, who had a way of dominating a scene.
"Well, son, I'm glad you decided to come out to me. That took some courage. I want you to know that I love you and will always be here for you. You might want to tell your mother, too."
"Oh she knows."
"She does?"
"I told her before dinner. She told me I should tell you and I told her I was planning to do that tonight. So, now you know. I won't tell her how many guys I've had sex with."
I didn't like the sound of that. It made him sound like my son the slut.
"How many have there been?" Since he brought it up, I took that as an invitation to ask.
"Do you want a list?"
"Just a round number."
"Let's see...Marty, Rich, Nicky, Noah, Alex, Sammy, Eric, and Tanner. Is eight round enough?"
"It works for me." It wasn't quite as bad as it could have been, but he was certainly an active little tween. His other ball had slipped out and I once again was about to have him straighten himself out when one of the names suddenly made an impression. "Sammy? You have sex with Sammy? He's only nine."
"Come on dad, I was doing stuff when I was seven. I gave my first BJ when I was nine. Big deal, he's my brother. He's gotta learn from somebody."
"Is Sammy gay?"
"Oh, fuck no. No fucking way Sammy is gay."
I knew I was getting some adolescent testing and it was time to assert myself. "Jeffrey, watch your language, please."
"I was just saying. I mean there is no other way to say it. That's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about."
"Sammy? Or your potty mouth?
"Sammy. You already know about my potty mouth. Sammy needs your talk bad. You know, the birds and the bees, or the when cum enters the pussy talk. Sammy is a real pussy hound."
"Oh?"
"He's been naked with maybe four different girls and has been sixty- nine with one and two have sucked his weenie. They jerk him off, too. But don't tell him I told you all this. Just give him the talk and really mean it. Dad, he's going in to fifth grade next year and I bet by the time he gets to middle school he won't be a virgin."
"You mean by the time he leaves middle school, right?"
"No, dad, I mean by the time he finishes elementary school and before he starts middle school. Talk to him. I don't want any little Sammys running around."
"I'll be sure to talk to him. You might want to adjust your briefs. Your balls seem to be hanging outside of them."
He looked down at his crotch, and then lifted his hips and yanked his briefs off. "There, now they're not hanging outside of my undies." He rose from the couch, his little penis flopping as he walked over behind my recliner. He wrapped his arms around my neck and nuzzled his face against mine and rubbed. "I love feeling your whiskers and Marty's whiskers. Thanks for listening to me, dad. I love you. You're the world's best dad. Don't forget to talk to Sammy."
He left the room, wiggling his little ass in an exaggerated fashion. Lois and I both had become accustomed to our sons walking around the house half-naked, but it still can seem strange on occasion, especially when it comes to the Full Monte.
I was admittedly concerned about Jeffrey. I was pleased that he trusted me enough to tell me who his sexual partners had been. Most boys his age would keep that information under lock and key, not letting their parents anywhere near their secrets. I had assumed Marty and Nicky were his only sexual contacts. I had been very wrong.
He and I were going to have a little outing and discuss the subject of promiscuity and what it means. I do not want my son to be thought of as a slut, or an easy lay for other boys. Granted, he's had sexual contact with boys he knows well, but the subject needs to be broached. The drugs and alcohol talk needs to happen as well, although Marty told me that he and Jeffrey have discussed the subject often. Still, my son needs to hear it from me, as well, even if I don't have to go into a lot of detail thanks to Marty's ground work.
I was proud of Jeffrey being concerned enough about his brother to talk to me about Sammy's sexual exploits. I suppose I should do something about the sex between Jeffrey and Sammy, but, like with Jeffrey and Marty, nobody seems to be hurt. For now, I will let that relationship ride.
Sammy and I were going to have "THE TALK" next weekend on a little father-son outing. It's not like Lois and I haven't discussed the facts of life with him, but now it gets serious. He's six weeks away from being ten, and already I have to worry about him losing his virginity, at least to a girl. Playing show and tell at nine is one thing, I had fun doing that. But sexual contact didn't happen until I was thirteen, which I guess is a bit young as well. Still, Sammy and I need to get real serious. I never did ask Jeffrey if he and Sammy...no, not at ages twelve and nine. No way had they gone that far.
[MARTY]
I'd had a great talk with Sparky. I went out for a late night jog and now I was ready for bed. It looked like I wouldn't be getting right to sleep, though, since I saw that the lights in my room were on. That could only mean Jeffrey was there, since I knew I'd turned them off. It looked like there might be an evening of sex between me and my twelve year old little brother before I got any sleep.
I certainly wasn't complaining. Tomorrow was Memorial Day, so we didn't need to be awake early. Jeffrey and I hadn't had a chance to have sex since I came home. I figured he had to be pretty horny—he usually was, after all. Since he started into puberty, he has become incredible in bed. I mean the little guy truly enjoys sex and knows how to both give and receive pleasure. I sometimes have problems keeping up with him when he really gets into sex with me.
"Hi, Marty," came the familiar young boy voice as I entered the apartment. At least it was familiar for now. Who knows what that voice would be like when it got around to breaking? He was sitting on the couch, stark naked, watching television.
"It looks like my favorite Hurricane came storming into my apartment."
"Did I surprise you?"
"I would have been surprised if you hadn't been here."
He gave me one of his mile wide grins and got up for a hug. I hugged him tightly to me, rubbing his bare back, letting my hands drop down to his little bubble butt so I could stroke it.
"I miss you so much when you're gone to school," Jeffrey said.
"It's not like you are all alone. You've got Sammy at home, Nicky everywhere, and, I am willing to bet, a few other little bed buddies."
"Do you want the list?"
"Not tonight. All I want tonight is my little bro." His grin got even wider, as if that was possible.
"Then you'd better get naked," my twelve year old shadow told me. It didn't take me long to fulfill his request.
"Let's pee, brush, floss, wash, and do whatever, then hit the sack," I said. I also thought I should take a shower because I had worked up a sweat jogging. But then, maybe my manly scent might be a turn on for little Stormy.
"Not to sleep, I hope."
I ruffled his hair, which was darkening some from the glistening blond he had as a little boy, but was still plenty blond. "When are you going to get some meat on those bones?" I asked, as we both stood over the toilet and peed.
"I have a nice butt, what else do you need?"
We finally snuggled up in bed, my left arm holding his naked body close to me. He snuggled his head onto my shoulder. "What was it you and Nicky did on the team bus today?"
"We had our perfect game celebration."
"Does that mean you had perfect sex?"
"No, that would be hard to do on a bus. All we did was take our cocks out and jerk each other off. With guys coming back to go to the bathroom, we didn't want to, you know, go overboard."
"It's not like anybody on the team hasn't seen boys have sex before. I mean they've all done it themselves."
"Well, there were coaches on there, too. Plus, everybody was so into baseball, we didn't want to start an orgy. If everybody saw Nicky and me having sex, well, they'd all want to have sex, too." Only Hurricane Jeffrey could explain things that way.
"All you did was open up your pants and jerk off?"
"Yeah. I still have a cum stain on my pants if you want to see it?"
"It's good. I believe you."
"Do you want the news before we do sex?" he asked. "Because all it's sexy news and should make you horny."
I was doing what Jeffrey likes best, and that was petting his torso. We both knew my hand would soon be moving down to his hairless pubic region, and soon would go even lower. I could feel the heat rising from his over stimulated tween gonads. "Enlighten me, so it will get me even more turned on."
"Sammy's been naked with, I think, four girls, two of them have sucked his dick, and one he was sixty-nine with. Sammy says I can fuck him for his tenth birthday. Alex and I went past The Schnoz and got totally naked in the boys' room last week at lunch and I fucked him. Now I've fucked you, Alex, and Nicky. I get to fuck Sammy in a few weeks. I want to fuck Noah, Eric, and Tanner. Only you, Eric, Noah, and Nicky's been up my butt. I've sucked all the guys I fucked plus Noah and Sammy and Rich and Tanner. Oh, and I've sucked Eric and he's sucked me. Me and Nicky went streaking around my block. Oh, and I want to suck Chandler and Korey, get me some more big dicks in my mouth. And I came out to mom and dad and told them I was gay."
His Hurricane babbling was getting me even more turned on as I imagined him having sexual fun with his buddies. He was turning into a bigger horn dog than I was at his age. My hand was easily cupping his three inch boner and his slightly hanging balls. Then he hit me with the last sentence.
"You came out to Sparky? When did you do that?" Jeffrey was used to me calling his dad Sparky. It was the equivalent to my saying dad.
A couple of days ago. He is my dad and he should know. Same with mom. They were cool with it. Dad did ask me if you made me gay, and I said fuck no, I was born gay. I told him I've had sex with eight boys, but I didn't tell him I want sex with Chandler and Korey and Kevin and Kraig, and lots of peeps. One more piece of news, and then you can stick your dick up my ass."
"What kind of news?"
"I am doing another picture of you. It's you sitting at your desk in your room at school studying a book. I took pictures of the room with my phone, and I'm making my drawing from that. You're naked in the picture."
"I'm looking forward to seeing it, but I doubt it will have a prominent place on my wall like a certain other picture you did."
Jeffrey pushed my hand away from his little cock, turned on his side, and started licking my man-sized seven inch tool. He licked it from bottom to top, flicking the precum off of the head. He licked back down to my balls and under my balls. Before I knew it, he was between my legs, prodding me to raise my ass. And then, for the first time, he was rimming me.
"Oh, fuck, Jeffrey, that feels fucking good. Where did you learn that?"
"From Nicky. Him, me, and Alex like doing it. You can fuck me any time. I'm not ready to stick my tongue inside your hairy ass, yet. Plus your ass is all sweaty and smelly. I've stuck it in theirs, but that's not quite as gross as long as we've all had a shower or a bath or been swimming or something."
"How about we kiss and dry hump and finger fuck each other this time?"
"As long as you promise to fuck me by next weekend."
"You're on."
As much as I wanted to fuck the little dude, tonight I wanted to feel him. I wanted to experience him, all of him. He had his finger up my butt, I had my finger up his. We kissed, deeply and passionately. We rubbed our cocks together, me pushing my big thick one against his small, skinny one. We traded tongue, we ducked down and licked cock, we rubbed each other again, we kissed long and hard, we finger fucked, then rubbed each other's asses. I licked his smooth boy ass, with my tongue actually entering his grommet. We rolled on the bed, him on top of me or us side-by-side, we grunted, we moaned, he let out high and low pitched squeals...until he shot his load of clear cum over the two of us and I followed a couple of minutes later by rubbing my cock on his belly and coating him with my thick man cum, which he eagerly rubbed over his chest, stomach, cock, even on his face, giggling lightly as he smeared my seed over his smooth, preteen body. And that was just the first of two rounds, the second being a more subdued sixty-nine. Damn, his cum is so sweet—so, so sweet.
I was exhausted after our second orgasm. I knew Jeffrey wasn't going to shower. He's loved having my seed on him since he was a little tyke. He wrapped himself around me, kissed me good night, and dropped a small bomb on me.
"Sammy wants to suck your dick," Jeffrey said out of the blue.
"I thought Sammy wasn't gay."
"He's almost ten, what does he know about being gay? You have to be twelve and shoot cum to know that kind of shit."
"And just why does your almost ten year old brother want to suck my dick?"
"So you, me, and him can all three be brothers. It's what brothers do."
Sammy was a cute little kid. The thought of being naked with him intrigued me, but I quickly kicked the idea out of my head. "You tell Sammy he needs to be older before I'll even think about it."
"How old?"
"Twelve works." I thought by then he'd be so deep into girls the thought of oral sex with, well, a man, wouldn't appeal to him.
"I sucked your dick just before I was ten. He can do it, too. Let's make it ten."
"Only if he asks without any prodding from you, and even then I'll have to think about it.'
"He only wants to do it once. He won't want to kiss, fuck, or sleep with you. And it will be all three of us together. So for his tenth birthday, Sammy will get to be fucked my me, suck your dick, get his dick sucked by you, and maybe find a girl to take his cherry. Not bad for a shy kid."
"All that on the same day?"
"No, doofus, not on the same day. But after he turns ten."
"Let's get to sleep." I knew the subject was going to come up again soon; Jeffrey never let an idea die easily, if at all. I suspect this whole brotherhood idea was his.
"Okay." He snuggled up to me, and within minutes he was asleep.
<Monday, May 27>
[MARTY]
Since Monday was a holiday, Jeffrey and I both slept in until Sammy romped into the bedroom and dove on the bed. "Mom says you lazybones gotta get up for breakfast or you starve." Sammy was dressed in nothing but pajama bottoms and a pair of socks. I rolled him on his back and started tickling his smooth little tummy.
While Jeffrey was skinny, Sammy had some meat on him. He wasn't fat, just stocky for a nine year old. Jeffrey had a nice butt, but Sammy's was one of nicest I'd ever seen on a little kid. It was all I could do not to stick my hands inside his PJs and rub that fine piece of ass.
Sammy was laughing hysterically. "If you don't stop I'm gonna pee in my pee jays." As much as I loved the feel of his smooth, warm skin, I released him.
"I don't care if you pee in your pajamas," I joked with him, "I just don't want you messing up my bed. I'm the one who has to wash the sheets."
"I was joking. I didn't need to pee." He jumped out of the bed. "You guys did sex last night."
"Good guess," Jeffrey said. "Must be the cum on me that gave it away."
Sammy giggled. "I'll see you at breakfast. You guys can't come naked though," He bent over, pulled down his pajama bottoms, mooned us, and ran out of the room, still laughing.
"When did he start getting this wild?" I asked Jeffrey.
"I've been giving him lessons."
"I don't doubt it."
<Monday, May 27, Eric's house>
[ERIC]
I wasn't surprised when Ben showed up at my door just before lunch. He grinned and said he owed somebody in Mayfield a blow job and it might as well be me. Who was I to argue?
He accepted mom's invitation for lunch and ate heartily. After eating and talking baseball with mom and dad, we headed up to my room.
"You're my hero, you know," Ben told me. "Unbelievable job of pitching."
"Let's not go into that," I said. "We can talk about my team, but not my game."
"That statement is so you," he said. "Every pitcher in the state would give his left nut to have been you, yesterday, and you don't want to talk about it. Hell, I'd almost give up both my `nads to have pitched that game."
We talked about the Mustangs and the thrill of winning two straight State Championships. He told me that sitting in the stands watching that championship game was almost as good as being in the field playing it himself. Almost.
I texted Noah that I would be having sex with Ben, and we both slowly undressed. I was reasonably sure that, straight boy or not, he admired my body as much as I admired his. The blow job wasn't a one way thing as we sucked each other in a sixty-nine, rested and talked about sex instead of baseball, and then did something that surprised me.
Our rest period had us sitting naked on my bed. Ben was bigger and buffer than I was. He worked out in the weight room at Kentburg High, and it showed. He had a nice, long cock with hairy, low hanging balls. I was sure he was well over six and a half inches hard.
"You give great head," I told him. "Are you sure you're not gay?"
"I've had sex with more guys than girls, but I am for sure not gay."
"Even though you're no virgin with guys?"
"I've fucked guys and been fucked by guys, and I liked it both ways. But I prefer what little pussy I've had."
"How little?" I've asked.
"Two girls."
"Hell, that's only one more than I've had, and I'm gay. That low number surprises me. How many guys have you had anal with?"
"Six, but I was drunk for four of those."
"And you're not gay?"
"I'll accept bi," he said.
He also accepted hugging and kissing as we had our second cum by dry humping each other. It was the kissing, not the dry humping, that surprised me. He kissed great and we had sex with passion. He might not be gay, but if he was bisexual, he sure seemed to lean to the gay side of things.
No matter, he was a great guy and had become a really good friend. I was glad I was able to compete against him and get to know him intimately through the years. I was even happier I was able to have some amazing sex with him.
"My debt is more than paid," he said after we cuddled some. I handed him a wash cloth and he cleaned our mixed emissions off of his belly and chest. "Thanks for the good time, Eric. I'd love to sleep with you some night. Who knows where it would end up?"
"I love you, Ben," I said with a bit of trepidation.
"That feeling is definitely mutual, my friend. I love you, too."
It had been a wonderful afternoon. Ben and I had been rivals on the baseball field since middle school. That didn't stop us from showing our love for each other as we got ready to graduate from high school. Mom and dad didn't even bother to ask what we'd done up in my room all afternoon. After all, how could they not know?
[ERIC]
All day Monday I dreaded going to school on Tuesday. I was afraid everybody was going to make a fuss about the game I'd pitched instead of being excited about the team. But Noah, who spent the night with me, was his usual calming influence. We had our first sex in almost a week. After we finished he made our pillow talk very serious.
"You're almost as crazy as I was with my demon," Noah said. "Your problem is you think too much. You've got to analyze everybody and everything. You've analyzed that game to the point where you've turned a perfect game into your own personal demon."
"You know everybody's gonna go gaga over my game," I said. I wasn't going to use the words "perfect game".
"Don't flatter yourself. It will be all about the team. Most of the yahoos in that school wouldn't know a perfect game from a perfect reefer. And those who do know what it is will know it was done by a team. You're gonna hear people say stuff like, Hey, great game Eric'. Good game, Eric'. `Way to pitch, Eric'. You know, the usual crap you hear after you've done really well."
"Well, the whole team has to be sick of it by now. That was all the reporters wanted to talk about after the game. That was the big deal in the paper. Everybody thought it was more important than us winning two straight championships."
"They're not sick of it. They're proud of you and are happy to be part of it."
"Okay, then I'm sick of it."
"Eric, I'm going to tell you one last thing, and after that you can quit whining."
"I'm not whining." He was right, though—I was whining.
"I've talked to everybody, and I mean everybody, right down to my brother Nicky, the bat boy. Do you know what was in every fielder's head with two outs in the seventh?"
"Haven't a clue."
"Yes, you do, you're just too stubborn to admit it. Everybody was saying to Brandon...in their head of course...'Hit the ball to me.' Everybody, even me who was afraid of fucking up until I ended up having to make a play, was saying that. Even Nicky was somehow wishing he could be part of the action in some way. We all wanted to be the one to make the last out, the one to be part of history. All eight of us out there on the field wanted that ball. But then you ended up fucking it up."
"How did I fuck it up?"
"You ended up striking the bastard out, so nobody got the ball."
"I used to love talking with you about how baseball was the perfect game. Now I hate those two words."
"Believe it or not, Eric, you weren't perfect. Did you strike out twenty- one batters? No, it was nine, which left twelve outs for your teammates."
"I just don't like having the spotlight on me, Noah."
"Eric?"
"Yes, Noah."
"I love you more than I can ever express to you. But sometimes you just have to shut the fuck up and accept life for what it is. The only person who is making a big deal out of that perfect game is you. I mean, if you can't accept one of the greatest things you've ever done, then nothing is ever going to make you happy. So just get over yourself and maybe take some pleasure in what you did."
"Noah?"
"Yes, Eric,"
"You're right, of course." I believe Noah was giving me a dose of what is called tough love.
I slept fitfully that night and was awakened by the alarm clock going off a half-hour earlier than I thought I'd set it. I was about to hit snooze and roll back over to sleep when a hand grabbed mine.
"Time to get up," Noah said.
"It's not."
"Up and out of bed. Then get on the floor and sit on your butt."
Woozy as I was, I knew what he had up his scheming sleeve. He had set the alarm early in order for us to have some morning meditation time. We soon were sitting facing each other, our hands on each other's shoulders.
"Why didn't we do this last night?"
"Last night was talk. This morning is listening. This morning is listening to how to get out of yourself and leave your ego behind."
"Noah, I have been leaving my ego behind. This whole business with the perfect game has been about me putting my teammates ahead of me."
"That statement is proof you weren't truly listening last night. Now, put your forehead against mine, then shut-up and listen."
I was getting better at doing meditation. I wasn't as good as Noah was when it came to losing myself for a long period of time, but I could do it and it was special when it happened. The session at the ballpark before the championship game was the best one I'd ever had.
This morning's might have been my second best. Noah knew I wasn't ready for this last night, and, as he so often is when it comes to reading people and their moods, he was right.
Our session lasted around fifteen minutes. When we finished, I came to an understanding that by making a big deal about my game, I was putting the spotlight on it, I was putting it right there by talking, and worse, whining about it all the time. I understood that when I went to school today I had to let things unfold the way they were supposed to unfold and not open my mouth to make them unfold the way I wanted them to. While I still didn't feel entirely comfortable in my skin, I did have a better idea of how I should act.
The first thing Noah and I noticed as we walked onto the school grounds confirmed that Noah's instincts were right. The reader board at the front of the school read: "CONGRATULATIONS MUSTANGS. STATE A BASEBALL CHAMPIONS." Nowhere did it say, "CONGRATULATIONS TO ERIC SIMMONS FOR PITCHING A PERFECT GAME."
I thought it ironic that if Noah and I hadn't had our morning meditation my ego might have actually been hurt by the perceived slight. On the one hand I didn't want the game mentioned, yet on the other hand I did. As it was, I accepted what was on the reader board and was pleased it was my teammates who got the mention.
That's how it went in school all day. Sure, the topic of my game came up, but usually in the context of the game overall. Even at the end of the day assembly, Mr. Wilson, Coach Fitzsimmons, and Coach Sanders were all about the back-to-back championships. Coach Sanders mentioned my perfect game as a historic achievement in his talk, but it was said in the context of team. By the end of the day, I was feeling better about the situation and about myself. I was seen as a player who had a great game at the right time, not as some star who was bigger than the team. That suited me just fine—it's the way I wanted it to be. Now if I could just keep thinking that way.
<Tuesday, May 28, Noah's house>
The Mustang players didn't have afternoon baseball practice since their season was over, but that didn't mean it was a day without baseball. The assembly honoring the State Champions was during the last period of the day. As soon as the dismissal bell rang the members of the Go to State Team headed for Noah's house. The May general membership meeting had been continually put off because of the pressures of the busy postseason baseball schedule. Other than Sunday, this was the only day of the week the members were free enough to have time to hold it. The board of directors had held a couple of meetings, but there was a need for the general membership to meet in order to elect a new board.
Coach Miller didn't schedule the first Falcon practice until Wednesday to leave Tuesday free for the Falcon players to attend the meeting. They had their first game on Saturday. Some of the graduating seniors were playing Senior American Legion baseball on a team made up of Mayfield, Kentburg, and Meadow Park players.
The board had decided that Noah's house would be the appropriate venue for the meeting. It was at Noah's house that the first official meeting of the Go to State Team was held. It was the perfect place for the founding members to attend their last meeting.
Because it was a mild spring afternoon, the boys did some skinny dipping in the pool until Noah's mother announced dinner would be served in a half hour. She had long ago gotten used to naked teen boys assembling at the pool. She did expect them to be dressed in the house, however.
After dinner, Eric called the meeting to order. After the minutes were read and the various reports were given, the elections were held. There were no surprises. Justin was elected chairman, Chandler was the co-chair, Toby was treasurer, and Korey, secretary. Three at- large board members were elected, Blaine being one of them. The two adult members of the board, George Bednarzyck and Seth McCall were reelected.
The transition from the founding members to the next generation had gone smoothly. The remaining members of the Go to State Team thanked Eric, Noah, Kevin, Kraig, Scott, Danny, and Carl for getting the organization off the ground and staying with it for six years. They vowed to keep it in good shape.
The surprise of the evening was the framed certificates of thanks given to each of the seven founders, along with Hunter, Gavin, and Lars, who became active a little after the first organizing meetings. Seth McCall, George Bednarzyck, Alan Hawkins, and the team's financial sponsors all chipped in for the beautiful certificates. It was an emotional moment for everyone.
<Thursday, May 30>
Things quickly got back to normal for the State Champions. For the seniors, finals were coming up, followed by graduation. For the rest, finals were still a week away. The end of high school baseball didn't mean the end of baseball for them.
The Falcon season was beginning for the underclassmen. The graduating seniors playing Senior Legion ball were having practices as well. Rory Grant, coached the Legion team. He'd been the American Legion coach in that area for twenty-five years and was respected and well-liked. He was a serious baseball man, an excellent teacher, and even at sixty years of age was still able to communicate and relate to the boys he referred to as young men.
Eric, Noah, Kevin, Kraig, Lars, Scott, and Danny were on the roster. Both Hunter and Carl planned to put their summer emphasis into football. Both boys had been recruited by small colleges.
The players from the three towns making up the Legion team had played against each other since middle school and weren't strangers. Ben and Lance were both on the team. Royce just missed the birthday cutoff date and couldn't play.
Ben had fun with the Mayfield boys at the team's first practice. "Damn, I get to play with three guys I've traded blow jobs with," he said. "How will I ever keep my dick soft being around all of you?"
"Three?" Noah asked. "That must be me, Eric, and Lance."
"You got it. Plus you can add Royce on the list of guys you know. The score is girls 7, boys 11, if you're keeping score, at least as far as BJs go."
"No hermaphrodites I take it," Noah commented, tongue in cheek.
"Hermaphrowhats?" Ben asked.
"Check your biology notes," Noah said.
"All I know is this is going to be a kick ass summer. I mean, we got me and Eric as the top two pitchers. We both have kick ass records and we both have no-hitters to our credit. Is that awesome or what?"
They all agreed that what would probably be their last summer of youth baseball looked like it would be a lot of fun. They were all thinking beyond baseball.
<Saturday, June 1>
The Mayfield baseball banquet was held at the community center, It was the only place in Mayfield big enough to hold the expected turnout. Nobody wanted to move it outside of town. Harmon Catering provided the food service, providing a buffet-style meal.
Each varsity player received four tickets to distribute to friends and family. JV players received two each. Players who needed more tickets could either get one from a teammate who wasn't using all of his, or talk to one of the coaches about getting extras. In the end every player had enough tickets. Tickets were also given out to members of the community and the school booster club who had helped support the baseball program.
After dessert, the teams and the players were honored. The JV players received no individual awards, but their 12-4 record received a great deal of praise from the coaches. After the JV had their brief moment in the limelight, the time came to honor the varsity.
Of course a lot of attention was paid to the team's amazing championship season. Their accomplishments could not be mentioned without giving the history of the Go to State Team and the roles played by the outgoing seniors in creating their own organization. And, much to his embarrassment, both Eric's dream and his leadership received a great deal of commentary from Coach Sanders. Before getting ready to present the individual awards he talked about the weekend at Safeco Field and about the team's historic win, as they put together the first perfect game in State Championship history, with emphasis on the word they.
There was only one slight surprise when the awards were handed out. Eric and Kevin were named co-captains, which was no surprise. Carl was named Mister Offense and Justin Mister Defense. Eric was the pitcher of the year. Those awards were also picked by a combination of the players and coaches. Noah received the Mister Hustle award and Kevin was named Most Inspirational. They were awards picked by the players.
The last two awards were the big ones; the Most Valuable Player Award and the prestigious Coach's Award. The MVP was picked by the players and coaches. The Coach's Award was only awarded when a team won a league championship. It was picked by all of the school's coaches, as well as the Athletic Director and the principal.
Before the team awards were announced, however, everyone was reminded that Eric, Kevin, and Carl, were named to the Seamount League All-Star team, with Justin being picked as a second team All- Star. Eric had been named the MVP of the State Tournament and that he, Carl, and Justin were named to the All-State team, made up of players who played in the Regionals and State finals.
The team MVP winner surprised some. It went to Carl, in a close vote with Eric. While Eric had been more versatile with his hitting, his play in the field at second, and his pitching, Carl had come up with a lot of big hits. His powerful bat had made a difference in the Mustang lineup and had been instrumental in some big wins. The naming of the Coach's Award winner was almost anticlimactic, but still sparked a huge round of cheering and applause when it went to Eric.
Eric's thank you statements after receiving the Captain's award and the Mister Pitcher award had been brief. He said a bit more in his last acceptance speech.
"I appreciate you guys not telling me I was full of it back in sixth grade. It was all of you, who built what we are honoring tonight. You guys who sat there at that lunch table back in sixth grade never lost sight of what it is we had decided to do—win back-to-back titles." He then looked toward one of the back tables where Marty, Connor, Vince, Rich, and Rodney were sitting. The Dawg and the Donkey were in back with that group as well.
"And thanks, as well, to all the seventh graders who crashed our first meeting to tell us we better include them in the fun." That elicited a loud cheer from the alumni at the back table. "Thanks to the community for getting behind us and guiding us and supporting us. Thanks to the coaches who pushed us and prodded us and reminded us of what our real goals were: Conducting ourselves with integrity and respect and playing the game the way it was meant to be played. You trusted us through the years, and I don't think we let you down. And mom and dad, when I got discouraged, which happened a lot, you always picked me up. And finally, to my Noah—you were a bigger part of all this than you think. Your inspiration and love and wonderful sense of humor kept me and all of us going though the good times and the rough times. Thanks, everybody."
The applause and cheering was loud and long. It was not only for Eric, it was also for themselves, for the coaches, for the community, and for their families. The Mustang banquet highlighted everything that was right about sports.
<Tuesday, June 11>
Eric, Noah, Kevin, Kraig, Lars, Danny, Carl, Hunter, and Gavin graduated on the evening of June 11. Noah was the valedictorian and spoke to his graduating classmates. Eric spoke as outgoing Student Body president. He graduated third in the class behind Noah and Mary Alice.
The official school graduation party was held in the same mountain lodge as the previous year. Eric and the graduation committee felt they wouldn't be able to find a better venue. Unlike the year before, nobody seemed truly aghast to see boys dancing with boys. If somebody did have a problem with it, they kept it to themselves. The gays at Mayfield High had become a part of the mainstream.
An unofficial baseball party was on Saturday. It was a party for the players who'd been on one or both of the championship teams and was held in Vince's basement. There was plenty of food and more than enough beer. Eric, Rich, Marty, and Noah made an appearance at the start of the party. After visiting with their friends and former teammates for about a half-hour they left together for a movie in Centralia.
The rest of the newly minted graduates were there, as well as Connor, Vince, Rodney, Jerome, Justin, Toby, Chandler, and Korey. Rich's brother, Mikey, garnered an invitation from his friends Chandler and Korey. Everybody but Justin and Toby got drunk. Those two didn't drink, but enjoyed watching their peers get wasted. They all spent the night, and everyone ended up having some kind of sexual contact with another boy at the party. All of them agreed it was a great way to end the school year. The hangovers the next morning were a small price to pay.
For the boys of Mayfield, their last two years had been a dream that was more than a dream—it had been a dream that they were able to live to its fulfillment.
Next: The Boys of Mayfield