“Strike one,” I chuckled, throwing the ball back to the young girl.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Mom smiled down at me before turning back to the pitcher. Without lecherous intent, I scanned my eyes up her legs, her tight blue denim jeans hugging her hips hermetically. High waisted, her ass filled out the rear and with her shirt tucked into the waistband, it really accentuated her curves. At only 52, she’d have no problem attracting another partner if she chose to pursue it (perish the thought) but as I said, I wasn’t ogling…at the time.
The next pitch would’ve been a ball if she’d left it but as Mom was want to do, she swung wildly, turning a full circle accompanied by her laughter.
“Keep your eye on the ball,” I offered my helpful advice as I rose to throw the softball back, and as my action caused me to step forward slightly, Mom chose that moment to practice a swing.
It looked worse than it felt.
The bat hit me right in the groin and to all watching it must have looked painful. Painful, and of course, extremely humorous. Playing up the theatrics for the kids present I went down clutching my balls howling my discomfort. Mom dropped the bat and raised a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide in horror at what she’d done.
“Oh God Seth,” she dropped to her haunches, a hand reaching out to touch my shoulder, the other upon my thigh “I’m so sorry!”
Laughing, I removed the mitt from between my legs and noticed Mom’s eyes zero in on the area.
“It’s alright, really,” I assured her as I made to stand, thankful the bat had indeed hit my penis and not my balls. Fully aware of the difference in pain.
“You’re sure? Jesus, I feel terrible.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I stood before her as she scowled at a girl filming the event on her phone.
“This’ll go viral,” the girl laughed and with Mom doing her best to get in the way, I used the opportunity to ‘rearrange things downstairs,’ so to speak, placing my cock in a more comfortable position.
It was just then her eyes strayed back onto me and once more she looked concerned.
“You’re positive? We don’t need to go to emergency or anything?”
Again, I laughed. “No, seriously, it’s all good,” I reassured and dropped to hand her the abandoned bat. “Come on, let’s get back to it.”
With some trepidation, Mom faced another pitch and to my surprise managed to connect, making her way to first base. When the next batter scored a hit, I was able to watch Mom run to second, self-consciously holding her breasts as they bobbed. Had I noticed before then how large my mother’s boobs were? The thought took me by surprise and when she ran for home two pitches later and I allowed her to touch the plate, they were in fact what I was attempting to NOT focus upon.
The day turning out better than I’d expected, we had our fill of BBQ and come late afternoon made to head home. In the car, the couple beers she’d imbibed loosening her tongue, Mom admitted that for the first time in a long time, my father hadn’t been foremost on her mind.
“To be honest Honey, I had a better time with you today that I ever had with him,” she raised a hand to her mouth in shock at what she’d declared, quickly following up. “Is that wrong?”
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