She Blamed It on My PTSD Pt. 02 - Sex Stories

She Blamed It on My PTSD Pt. 02

... record of inside knowledge, yet at all times I encountered it, there could be no overt trail from it towards a deal. No outgoing emails or texts or phone calls. Hence the trashing of the hard drives and surreptitious exit home.

Work kept me away from dealing with the shitstorm my life was in my teenage and early twenties that never seemed to leave..

I showered again, black Levis another dirt bag tee shirt. Went to the Athletic Supply store and got the baseballs two new A-2000 catcher's mitts and two more A-2000 fielder's mitts by Wilson and headed out to meet everyone.

She lived on right by Larsen's Danish bakery on twenty fourth Northwest and eightieth. It was an early 1900s brick home, two stories with a gabled roof and a basement. Counting the two stories twenty two hundred square feet, with another one thousand in the unfinished basement. Cozy yard with a little turtle batting cage and a pitcher's screen.

"One of the hardest things to understand as you advance through baseball as a hitter is to know where to look to for the baseball. See ball, hit ball as a theory of hitting sounds, simple, even silly to some. Pete Rose, said that. Bill Lee more credibly said be the ball which gets you back to Zen."

"If it's a right handed pitcher your eyes should Zen like focus above the right shoulder, never blink nor allow any thoughts to come into your head."

I was talking to Tom, Mark and Phil aged sixteen, fifteen and thirteen. Tom and Mark were at least six foot ...

... two and what my momma would call lanky. Phil was five foot nine, built like a tank and hugely athletic. All catchers, so I needed to get another mitt.

I stood copying the positioning of a pitcher about to release his pitch with his front foot down the bump, his mitt out in front thumb up, elbow tucked, pitching hand above his shoulder.

"You have to have loaded your hands and gone backwards to go forward. Your front foot is down and you're hitting against that front foot. Head is centered above your nuts. Personally I would suggest your hands are about nipple high and your bat barrel bumping your triceps. Take your hands right at the ball and the barrel will find the ball."

"If you lose the ball visually, it's a fastball, four seam or two seam it doesn't matter. Slider, curve ball, splitter all will pop up out of the guy's hands and you'll see it immediately. If you stride late you're in trouble, because you won't see the ball.

"Boys! Come wash your hands, it's time to go."

She was standing on the porch and her hair was in a loose bun. Hoop earrings and crimson lipstick. She had a bright white, vee neck sweater, that might have been a few sizes too small, those were all natural works of wonder jiggled with every breeze and breath. I was dumbfounded and physically reacting from my breathing to my crotch filling up my right leg in my jeans.

"Teddy, come on, you too. Wash your hands, got to set a good example for the boys, "she turned and her ass is really big ...