America's Favorite Pastime - Part 1

Welcome to Fantasy Friday!  SomewhereMan's last fantasy (Fantasy in Victoria) was so well received that he has agreed to be a regular contributor to Fantasy Friday for us. You're in for another treat today, Prowlers. I love (yes, love!) this story.  Those of you who have come to know me will know why. Maybe the rest of you should try to guess. ;-)

This story will be posted in two parts.  Part 1 is below.  Part 2 will be posted this afternoon. Be sure to take a few moments to comment and let SomewhereMan what you like best about his fantasy.

******

"Look indifferent to me, Kat."

"Really?" Kat replied, rolling her blue eyes and offering a sigh.  She hated acting with Clark but knew this was part of the gig.

She frowned and tried to wrinkle her eyebrows.

"There," Clark said.  "That's better.  Look at me like every other woman in my life looks at me.  With unabashed contempt."

Clark stepped away from Kat and walked to the Will Call window at AT&T Park.  Kat had to show some restraint in her attire on this Tuesday night in San Francisco.  Instead of the "little black dress" she preferred when spending her precious and rare free time with this abundant bastion of masculinity, Kat had on a shiny, black workout shirt with long sleeves.  It wasn't unlike something Lara Croft would wear, very tight and very black but not cut so deep in the neck.  Add in tight jeans and black shoes with thick heels and Kat qualified as "casual professional".

Perfect for their mission.

"Should have two passes under Clark von Schumann," Clark said to the will call attendant.  Within seconds, Clark reached under the class window and picked up the yellow envelope.  Two passes dropped out.

Media passes.

The run of the house.

Clark walked away, back to where Kat stood, the sunlight hitting her auburn hair over this early evening hour.   "Okay, now you can look like you dig me again, within reason," Clark said.

"You know I just want to grab your little ass and--"

"And what?" Clark said, tugging at his burnt orange sports jacket, which covered his creme-colored turtleneck and tight jeans.

Kat whispered into his ear.  "And suck your cock during a Giants game.  When the Giants are batting."

"But not when Pittsburgh is up?"

"No, they're terrible.  I want your cock when the home team is waving the wood."

"Alrighty then," Clark said, fighting the blush that filled his face.  A sparse crowd follow them, ninety minutes before the seven o'clock start for a Tuesday night game for the Pirates and Giants.  Even with the World Series title, the Giants wouldn't draw that many people for a mid-week game against Pittsburgh.

Which explained why the Giants gave two working press credentials to Clark and Kat, who were working the game as bloggers and said they were doing a feature on the "game experience" of going to this particular game.  Clark flipped the pass over to see they had post-game locker room access as well.  The full deal.

Clark guided Kat to the turnstiles and the security guards of the media entrance, carrying a laptop on his shoulder as she lugged a small camera bag herself.  Gotta look legitimate.

Especially as what they wanted to do once they got inside the park was far from legitimate.

He waved his pass at an elevator attendant, who waved them into the elevator and told them, "Fourth level for you.  Enjoy the game."

******

"So how are we going to pull this off again?" Kat said, doing her level best to grab his strong arms and shoulders and start kissing him on the neck.  After all, they were in the press box, a domain of overweight newspaper writers who had bodies carved and sculpted from free cookies, hot dogs and bratwursts.  Clark had been a sportscaster for a decade so he knew how where the access points were and, more importantly, where people would be lurking.

That had SO much to accomplish.

"Until we decide to 'engage' and maybe we'll need to come up with a code word or something, just enjoy dinner and watch the players finish batting practice," Clark told her.

"And we have locker room access?" Kat said, sipping a diet Sprite as they sat in the third row of the press box, looking down on the shadows and sunshine of the bright grass at the field.  "Does that mean I'll look at dicks as well?"

"Not just dicks," Clark said.  "Million dollah dicks.  They are usually still flaccid after playing baseball and taking a shower.  You'll see a lot of giggling.  Baseball players, for whatever reason, just aren't shy about that stuff."

Kat took another sip, smiling at Clark and looking at him -- their collective sets of blue eyes clashing with each other.  "And you really want to sneak away to the clubhouse...during the game?"

"Fortune favors the bold, my sexy Kat.  Always does."

"You know, you always say that but you're, like, the most timid guy I know."

"After tonight, you'll have a different opinion."  Clark pointed behind them, to a set of tables in the back of the press box.  "Go eat a cookie or grab a sandwich.  We'll go down there when it's time."

******

Kat had now spent an hour waiting... hoping... anticipating that Clark would break out the "code word" for them to leave.  They already had the plan down pat.  Each would grab their shoulder bags and leave, immediately and with purpose.

Her thoughts were consumed with sex.  Hot sex, dripping from every place where the blood would flow to.  Every place.  She thought about taking his shaft deep within her mouth as she loved doing that for a man.  Instead of this, Kat could only watch the top of the second inning.  Still no score as the shadows had now covered the entire field.

"Marichal," Clark finally announced.

"Really?"

"Yes.  Marichal."

The code word was out there.

Clark walked away from his chair in the press box, with purpose, like a 19-year-old buying beer.  Just act like you belong and no one will question you.  Kat followed him out the press box door and into the carpeted corridor.

"I gotta confess," Clark told her.  "I have no idea where to go from here.  Did you see the elevator that'll take us downstairs."

Kat felt nervous and so aroused as they tried to locate the elevator amid the fluorescent lights filling this dark corridor.  No security guards or team personnel were about to guide them.  After all, it was Tuesday and Pittsburgh was in town.

Clark, being the meticulous planner than he is, told her that he wanted to make love to Kat, from behind, while standing on the SF logo that was in the middle of the Giants locker room, during the game.  He didn't know if they'd actually be able to get naked and go that far, with him firing his love juice inside of her while standing on the logo but damned if they wouldn't try.

"Where in the world in the elevator?" Clark said, now getting irritated.  Feeling that he was losing the mood through anger, Clark took a deep breath and then caught an idea.

Suites.

He had walked past doors and doors of private suites.

"I have an idea." Clark said, looking back into Kat's eyes but not grabbing her hand nor her shoulder, even though he wanted to, desperately.  They had to, at least, appear professional.  He started twisting the knobs of the suites they kept passing in the corridor.  If a suite had the name of a company on the door, he didn't try the knob.  But for the vacant ones, he did.

Locked.

Occupied.

Locked.

They approached another suite, marked "Wilson Waste Management".  He heard no signs of life from the other side of the door.  With a gleam in his eye, Clark glanced back at Kat and put his hand on the knob.

It opened.

Vacant.

"Change of plans, Beautiful," he said to Kat.

Still looking to make sure no security guards were watching, Clark opened the door for Kat and they got into the suite.  Looking at the 16 seats and bar area, the room was completely empty.  Clark scanned the top of the walls and the ceiling for any security cameras.  Nothing to see that scared him off.

Clark flicked the lights off, locked the door behind them and said, "if we get caught in here, let's just play dumb."

They dropped their camera and laptop bags and leaned in for a kiss that had been hours in the making.  Not since they were walking back along the Embarcadero three hours before had they been able to embrace like this.  Clark tasted her soft lips, reaching a hand along her side to feel her collar bone underneath the tight, black athletic shirt.  Now her hands were grabbing at the muscles in his back, slipping under the sports jacket and over the light turtleneck on this chilly Tuesday night.

"I want you so bad," Kat said.  "Ever had your cock sucked in a stadium?"

"Only in American League parks."

"You're such a dork," she said, kissing him again, their tongues meshing as their hands were now all over each other.  Clark felt her perfect breasts, teasing the nipples with a light touch over her tight shirt and scanning the band in her jeans.

Kat was already more aggressive, slipping her hands under his jeans, feeling the green, mid-thigh jockeys that covered Clark's tight and muscular ass.

"I'm already wet," she sighed in his ear.  "You won't have to kiss me much longer.  I want to see it.  I want your cock in my mouth."

Kat's right hand was rubbing Clark's throbbing cock, over his tight jeans.  She had already freed the bottom of his turtleneck from his pants.  She ran her hands underneath the shirt, feeling his nearly-chiseled chest and she could even tell his heart was pounding a bit faster than it should.  His torso was warm to the touch, as if his machine was a factory that was already working towards maximum capacity.

"May I?" Kat asked, reaching for his belt buckle and dropping to her knees.

Clark knew just how much Kat loved to give head, especially from her knees as a man stood over her.  Clark loved it, too, and as she freed him from the jeans and the jockeys, he wanted to come up with a way to please her just as much -- especially in this luxury box.

Clark smirked as he saw a bowl of cashews within reach.  He just couldn't resist, reaching over and grabbing a handful of cashews, popping them into his mouth as he felt his erect cock slid into Kat's hot mouth.  This was heaven.

If he turned to watch the game, would that be too much?

Yeah, besides, in a situation like this, men are told to "think about baseball".

No, don't think about baseball, Clark told himself.  Think about this beautiful woman sucking you off in a private suite at a baseball game.

Kat kept a hand cupping his balls and she licked his hard penis, first from the bottom to the tip.  Now her other hand stroked his base while she devoured the head with her tongue.  She knew he loved this and wouldn't last too much longer... whether he was thinking about baseball or not.

Clark wasn't thinking about cashews anymore.  With each stroke, each lick, the cum was building up deeper and deep, from his balls and already filling the base of his full-sized cock.  Kat knew exactly how to make him explode and she was doing it, looking into his eyes from her knees and even humming a little bit -- to add some extra vibration, shooting the sensations all throughout his steamy body.

He wouldn't last long.  Not with all of the anticipation for this moment, all of the planning, the buildup and everything else that made Kat so damn irresistible.

Kat pulled her lips off his cock and started rubbing it so fast, back and forth.  "You're about ready, aren't you?" Kat asked, giggling and looking into his eyes.

"How can you tell?"

"I can feel it on my tongue, shooting up through your cock.  It's about to explode, isn't it?"

Clark didn't answer, as he tried to fight the cum and at least prove that he could hold out a little longer.  But he couldn't.  The urge was too strong.  Kat's beauty too pronounced.  Her skill too effective.

"I want to taste it all," Kat demanded.  "All on my tongue.  All of it."

Hearing those words from a sincere and gorgeous woman did to Clark what it would do to any man at this point.  Drive him wild and to the point of coming so hard.

"ARRRGH," Clark sighed as he shot a thick rope onto Kat's eager tongue.  Tasting the cum, Kat covered his trickling cock with her mouth, tasting every drop and now moving a finger to touch her moist and ready clit.

Shaking the sweat of his sideburns, Clark felt the tingle turn to tickling as Kat's tongue worked over his shrinking cock.  He reached down to kiss Kat on the lips, always a fetish of his, to kiss a woman who had just put in the effort to give him a blow job to remember.

"Now it's your turn, my love," Clark said.  He pointed to the row of seats.  "Go over there and lean over onto the chairs."

Kat smirked at him and followed his suggestion.  She pulled her jeans down, revealing a black and orange thong (Giants colors, she said) and even pulling those down.  Kat placed her two hands on the stadium-style seats, overlooking the field.  Top of the third.  Still no score.

Now Clark had dropped to his knees, setting up behind the Kat, who was dripping wet from her pussy and her ass.  He slid in an index finger into her pussy, exploring her walls and he could already tell she was ready for the middle finger to join.

Kat moaned as he guided the fingers on his right hand inside and out, also rubbing her clit with his right thumb.  As an extra level of attention, Clark guided his tongue to lick the back wall of her pussy, sliding his tongue up to the sensitive skin of her asshole.

She wasn't going to waste any more time trying to get to her moment of sweet release, either.  After all, Kat was in heaven.  She loved watching baseball, loved watching the Giants and also loved having an attentive man stick fingers inside of her wet pussy while giving her a world-class rimjob.  What's not to love.

Clark knew he was having a delightful effect on Kat, who was now slapping the plastic chairs with her hands as her body shook with passion.  It wouldn't be much longer for her, either.  At least Kat had lasted longer than he did.

He was now up to three fingers, moving in and out...and in a clockwise motion...inside of her, while still working the clit with a thumb.  Now Clark was still licking her asshole but also with a pinky finger teasing her anus and sliding in, just a little bit, to tap into the delicate nerves there as well.

With her breathing picking up even more, Kat's pussy walls pulled his three fingers tight.  Clark knew she loved fisting but they didn't have the time and patience here to explore this all the way.  They'd have to make do with this.

The buildup deep within her was now ready for release.  Kat held onto the plastic stadium chairs like a novice water skier trying to just hang on for dear life.  She held her breath for the final journey to Orgasmoville, a delightful place where only tingles are felt and sorrow has no place.

"OOOOHHHH," Kat moaned as her pussy wouldn't let Clark's fingers go.  He, slowly, slid them out...moving his tongue down to lick her wet pussy, not letting a single drop leave his mouth...

Clark heard what he thought was the locked door twist.

"Oh shit, we gotta get dressed," he whispered.

******

To be continued...

Click here to read Part 2 of America's Favorite Pastime.