[biggest fan] (Warning-Explicit Content)

It started with a breath. A rush of air that sucked in all the noise, and snapped it back to explode around him. Foot pounding, full-handed clapping, hollering, cheering. The curtain over his eyes came up, and there were so many people. They stood, pumping their fists, high-fiving under the twisting stars of hundreds of bright white lights. A writhing, living sea of red and gray and white he could feel as much as see. And they could all see him.

I’ve been here before.

Bright flashes danced across rows and rows of fans, stacked far up toward the sky. He lowered his eyes, if only for a moment, to the plush, vibrant green of the grass underneath his cleats.

Mac. Mac. Mac.

Like a tribal drum beat, they said his name over and over again. He could hear the announcers in their box high above his head.

“What an inning! Big Mac at the plate, standing his ground, manages to shut out the only hope the Rangers had of scoring to keep the Astros alive going into the ninth.”

His mouth broke into a grin as he hopped down the steps into the dugout. His teammates had already filed in, lined up along the bench and fence to give him a tunnel of congratulations to pass through. They patted him on the back and butt, rubbed his head and leapt on him. He sucked it all in, chuckling, grabbing them in turn and giving them a taste of it all. He was a hero, taking off his hat and lapping up his curtain call, but it was everyone’s victory.

When the wall of men finally opened up, and the excitement died down, he found miles of bench for him to sit, relax, and examine his glove. The lace was tight, the leather worn; the pads of his fingers found the dips from where he pressed to make the catch. He lost himself in it, thinking about how eager his high school baseball coach was to switch his position, because no one made it in the majors catching left. He chuckled to himself.

“Great play.”

As he lifted his head, his mask crashed down over his face. He was just reaching to get it, push it back over his cap, but she got to it first. She lifted it away from him slowly, pressing that much nearer to do so. At first he could see nothing but breasts, covered by a red string bikini; the star on the right framed her nipple perfectly.

“They never saw it coming,” she whispered, and lifted a leg to straddle him.

Her naked thighs covered the dirt stains on his pants. She knocked back his hat and brushed the beads of sweat away from his temple, allowing him much closer. All he could see and smell was her, and it was wonderful, soft; the exposed skin of her ass felt even better.

Then her lips met his throat. It was the lightest of touches: the way her fingers wound forward to grasp what should’ve been protected by a cup. His chest heaved in a way it hadn’t the entire game. She lowered his zipper incredibly slow and reached in to massage. Her movements stayed delicate around his dick, precious on his balls.

He felt as if she’d spoken, but he couldn’t remember what she said. He could only think of the press of her mouth on his. His other hand, the golden one, lifted to rake her red hair back from her face before he closed away everything but her behind his eyelids.

And then it ended with a two lung, full-chested gasp. He swallowed and gathered his surroundings. Oh, he’d been here before, that was for sure. Same cool gray paint, posters and sports memorabilia, tall red tool chest, black shelves, and scattered possessions. It was his room with his sheets coiled tightly around his body. And that was his paranoia, making him untangle them quickly to check his drawers.

He wished he could be relieved that he hadn’t fucking wet himself at his age, but he couldn’t shake it. With the raging, almost painful hard-on in his briefs, and the full-blown memory of his dream, he couldn’t.

You’re fucked.

He sighed, and dropped his hand down his underwear. If he was going to hell, he might as well enjoy the ride down. He closed his eyes again, looped his fingers, and sunk back into his dream. She tugged on his lower lip with her teeth and clutched the back of his neck. She made a mewing noise and he moaned against her throat.

“Jake.”

His muscles clenched and he released.