One Thousand Apologies - Part 1 - Sex Stories

One Thousand Apologies - Part 1

... batting champion Bill Madlock we had won 10 of the last 11, currently only one game behind the young , newly hot Montreal Expos. Pennant fever was alive again. Hannah was in a chair near the fire place, talking with our moms, less than 10 feet in front of me and slightly to the right. A profile of her thigh was in plain view, but I tried very hard not to be noticed stealing glances. I ran the rules through my head - only look for a second or two at a time; never turn the body or head to follow their movement; eyes straight ahead but occasionally sweeping the room so that they’d catch the object of attention. Damn, did she just lean back to stretch and shove her chest forward into her t-shirt? This was not the time for me to have an erection, surrounded by family. And this was my little cousin, dammit, that little voice inside my head reminded me, despite what had just transpired upstairs. The party broke up after an hour or so, and I headed back up to my room to squeeze myself nearly raw one more time. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I had a game scheduled every weekday during June and July, leaving me free during afternoons and weekends, as I was without a job that summer. In fact, I had missed my entire age 17 season when my dad was vehement that making money was more important than playing ball games. I scored off the charts on my standardized tests, but was an A/B student who didn’t do a lot of ...

... homework. For every A, every accomplishment, it was, “Why couldn’t you do this all the time?” to which I replied with a silent “Fuck you!” That was a lot of my relationship with my father. My grades, my girlfriends, my job, my wife, the skin color of my grandchildren, was never good enough. Five years after his death, I still regret that we never made peace, that he would not apologize for how he had treated my wife, a dagger I still carry in my heart. Truth is, a lot of the school work sounded easy in class, so I rarely wrote anything down, but that could create too much stuff floating in my head. I was also pretty much obsessive/compulsive, as I could have overwhelming urges to follow through on whatever had my interest at the moment, while also having anxiety attacks as a way of avoiding the situations where I was not confident of success. I did manage to save some money, with mom subsidizing me on the side, and got back to baseball after 12th grade had finished. Not that I had many expenses – in all of high school I had only dated one girl, for two months during my senior year (not including the two I had obsessively stalked between 7th and 10th grades.) I had my driver’s license at 16, but didn’t drive until I started college. I might have gone to school out of town, but it cost less to live at home and commute to campus (as dad wasn’t paying for any of it.). All I needed was gas money (dad did pay for the car insurance) and a little for snacks or entertainment (which of ...