I leaned against the dugout and he stood in front of me. He put his hands against the dugout, as if to block my escape, and he stared into my eyes. He...leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I felt his tongue in my mouth and I pulled away in surprise. He looked at me. “Haven’t you ever been French kissed before?” When I shook my head, he smiled, sending a chill up my spine. “Did you like it?” I nodded and whispered yes. He kissed me again and then he kissed my neck. Moments later, he pulled. My hands woke up and found their place on his masculine body, exploring his strong chest muscles, and reaching down his front to feel his hard cock through his tight jeans. I knew then that that was what I wanted, and so did he.I pulled his shirt up over his head. I frantically pulled at his belt buckle, fumbled with the buttons on his jeans, and pulled them down to his feet, kneeling down in front of him as I did."There's no time for that," he whispered to me, as he took my hand and pulled my. More

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