By Cutieboy90

Sam and I go way back, we’ve been buddies since grade school. Played baseball since little league, and since high school I’ve been a pitcher and he’s been my catcher. Yup it’s a cliche, go ahead and make all the pitcher/catcher jokes you want. I’ve heard them all, and I’ll admit there’s something special about our relationship. Sure, we’re good bros off the field. No homo though, we’re both straight. On the field though, is where the magic really happens. We share a mind, and think the same. Sam doesn’t even have to give me signs, just a look, and whatever pitch I throw is always right. When we’re playing, the games are quick, and victory is usually ours. Well, it depends on if our team can hit the damn ball, but at least the bullpen is always solid.

Like I said, Sam and I are both straight. I’ve enjoyed the girls I’ve dated very much. That said, I could definitely turn gay for him. Girls get clingy and whiny, and I know I’m more of a man’s man. Sam, being my buddy and all, I could spend my life with him playing baseball, camping, etc. There was a stretch in college when I was sidelined because I’d thrown my arm out. Watching him catch for another pitcher… I got so damn envious. My first game back, we proved just how good we were together. The game went by, every batter would come up to the plate. Sam flashed a smile, and flipped me the bird. I shook my head once. He stuck his tongue out. Fucker. I gave him a fastball.

“Strike!” The umpire called. The batter headed away from the plate, muttering to himself dejectedly.

There was another time, years ago, also in college. I came into the locker room after a practice to find Sam taped to the bench. Some sort of hazing prank no doubt, I figured he’d dropped a towel or something. He was blindfolded, and stripped down. I watched him struggle for a bit, gave him a few rattails. I left without a word, then came back and pretended to be surprised. Let him go of course, and we went out for a few drinks. But I’ve jerked off a few thousand times picturing his naked, jockstrapped body taped down to that bench. Hearing his muffled moans through the rag taped in his mouth, the way his body jerked when I whipped his ass with the rolled up towel. He never knew it was me that had taken my time to torment him. He never knew he was the one dude I jerked off to, and I’d never admit how much I enjoyed it.

That was years ago. Now we play at the semi-pro level. Our team is the favorite to win the “world series” which is really just the glorified name we call the games at the end of the season. For now we were just warming up for the opening games. Practicing at our little practice field in the suburbs. I stayed on the field to stretch as part of my new routine as recommended for a pitcher my age. I watched the team head off to the showers, and watched them all leave. Sam always got a ride with me and I expected he’d be waiting to give me a rat tail. I chuckled to myself as I headed down the stairs.

There was silence. Too much silence. I could feel the tension in the air, and knew Sam was lurking somewhere with a wet towel or silly string or god only knew what! I crept quietly down the hall, and carefully opened the door. But what I found waiting for me was most unexpected.

It was like a vision from the gods. Sam was strung up with his hands tied over his head, forcing him on his toes. His muscular body was all stretched out. His jersey was unbuttoned, his pants were pulled down, revealing his gorgeously thick legs and butt. A few red marks across his pecs and buttocks suggested he’d been given a good thrashing with a wet towel. He was blindfolded, and tried to call out when he heard the door slam behind me. I stared, my dick at instant attention. This was a dream. It had to be!

I approached my trussed up bud, taking his predicament in. He was stuck for sure, he couldn’t reach the knots, and he was tired out after the long practice. Being on his toes now was difficult. His body glistened with sweat, and I could hear him huffing through his gag.

Oh right, his gag. I did a triple-take to make sure I was seeing this right. A foam practice ball had been stuffed in Sam’s mouth and secured with the chinstrap from his helmet. I rubbed my own jaw, which ached at the sight. Poor Sam! It was making him drool down his chin and chest, too. I reached out and rubbed his soaked chest.

Sam bucked, pleading as best he could through his stuffed mouth. I gave his belly a firm slap to quiet him down, and when he did, I resumed molesting his pecs. He was solid. Unlike me, he had to bat. Like all the batters, he had to work out his arms and chest. He worked hard to balance his proportions, since all the squatting and leg work makes a lot of catchers overdeveloped in the glutes and quads. But Sam figured out how to balance his workouts, and his body was perfect. I kneaded his lats and pecs, stretched and vulnerable as they were.

I swear I was drooling almost as much as he was. I leaned in and gave one of his nipples a lick. He was musky as would be expected, and damn was he intoxicating! I gave him a nibble, causing him to whimper. My hands roamed up his broad back, squeezing at his traps. Damn bro, you’re so hard. How had I not noticed before?

I was feeling almost drunk with desire. I wanted my catcher so badly. As my hands reached down to cup his ass, I felt something hard down there. Looking down, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The narrow handle end of an aluminum bat had been pushed into his hole, with the other end chocked against the lockers behind him. Every time Sam moved backwards, or down off his tip-toes, he’d be fucked! How hadn’t I noticed this earlier!?

Damn, was I hard looking at this. Speaking of hard though, I was noticing how tight his cup was. I pulled it down, watching his dick pop out. Rock hard, throbbing angrily, leaking precum. I’d seen Sam naked plenty of times before, but I’d never seen him hard. It was maybe 7 inches, slightly shorter than my own, and less girthy. It stuck straight out, with very little curve. I gave that beautiful thing a few strokes with my still-gloved hand. Sam twisted, moaning loudly. His dick twitched violently. I felt into his cup, grabbing his nutsack, and gave it a good squeeze. The squeal my grip illicited from him was music to my ears. It also earned him a slap on the ass. Fuck, it was a nice ass too. Better than I remembered. My own dick was straining in my cup, it wanted to fuck. I was giving myself blueballs as I handled Sam’s fine equipment.

As much as my dick wanted to pitch to its catcher, I wasn’t about to break the bro code. At least not completely. I reached down and gave the bat a slow twist.

“HMMMMMGGHHHH!!” Sam threw his head back, his body tensing up. The end of the handle flared out into a ridge, which kept the end from slipping out. Like a buttplug. But I wasn’t entirely satisfied. I propped the end against the wall, keeping it farther in, and making him stand higher on his toes. His endlessly-leaking cock was still hard, despite the obvious cramps, fatigue, and pain Sam was in. Yet, I could swear he was grinding his hips a little, almost like he was enjoying it?

Nah. I shrugged the thought away, as Sam’s muffled groans started to get ragged. There was a desperation to it and with an added gurgle as all the drool built up behind the ball got frothy. His rock-solid legs were trembling, and I could see his calf muscles cramping. I reached out a hand to pat his back. As my hand touched him, he cried out like an animal, and he came! Thick white spurts shot from his dick, clearing the bench and hitting the lockers with loud splats. He made some desperate, pleading sort of whimpers as his hand-free prostate orgasm came to an end.

Sam’s orgasm was terribly ruined, as I watched the last of his cumshot dribble out. He was spent, but his boner remained. I gave it a few gentle swats, but it stayed hard as ever. He groaned with his frustration.

I was enjoying this way too much. I bit my tongue so as not to comment or whistle.

I took another last look at this scene, burning it into my mind for future jerk-offs. My catcher all strung up, a foam baseball shoved in his mouth, a baseball bat jammed up his butt, his hard cock still twitching in horny frustration, muscular body heaving and trembling, with a torrent of drool flowing down his front…

I gave that beefy chest a few firm slaps before I left the locker room. I needed to let my buddy cool off a bit and compose myself so I could walk back in and act shocked and help him out.

The cool spring night air felt nice compared to that stuffy locker room. My hard cock pressed against my cup, angry and impatient. Fuck, this couldn’t wait any longer. I furiously jacked off into the bushes, vividly replaying the scene I’d just left. Fuck… A tsunami wave of guilt crashed over me even as the last couple spurts splashed onto the leafy branch in front of me. I walked around the corner, and sat down on one of the bleachers. What the fuck had I just done?

I cleared my head with a set of burpees and jumping jacks. By the time I was heading back into the locker room, it had been another 15 minutes.

I opened the door. Sam was just how I’d left him.

“Woah! Hey, bro, what happened?” I feigned shock as best I could, and rushed over to untie him. I took the blindfold off first. He blinked in the light, wild-eyed.

“MMMPH! MMHMMPPH!??”

“Ok, hold on buddy. Here…” I unsnapped the helmet, and pulled the squishy foam ball out of his mouth.

“Damn,” I said non-chalantly, “I always knew you had a big mouth, but fuck man!” I tossed the ball over my shoulder. Sam was blushing hard, clearly humiliated to have been found this way. He only whimpered and yelped a bit as he worked his jaw.

I stood up on the bench to reach the ropes that tied his hands. As soon as I’d gotten one of his hands free, he reached down and pulled his jock over his still-hard and dripping cock. He had to stay on his tip-toes to keep the bat from impaling his ass further.

I released his other hand, and he collapsed against me with an anguished shout. I held him with both arms. I could see his feet spasming. I fought to keep my guilt hidden.

“Dude, Sam,” I tried to reassure him. “You OK? What happened here?”

Sam didn’t look at me. He panted hard, his muscles cramping and his face bright red.

I grabbed a towel from my bag, draping it around Sam’s shoulders.

“Here, let’s get you cleaned up ok?” I helped him to the showers. My eyes darted to the bat still sticking out of his beefy butt.

“N-no.” He finally managed to speak. “I’m just going to take care of it. I’ll be right out.”

“Ok man. Take as much time as you need.”

I walked back into the changing area. I gathered my things up, and changed my shoes. Sam would take his time. And I could be a good friend and be there for him.

Sam did take his time. He came back into the changing area, clutching the bat in one hand, his towel wrapped tightly around his waist. He threw the bat into the equipment bin, with a terse “fuck” under his breath. He moved stiffly and slowly as he dressed and stayed silent as we walked back out to my truck.

We sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Are you OK?” I finally asked. “I just want-”

“Derek…” Sam whispered, still staring ahead out the window. “Please. It’s not what it looked like.”

“Like a hazing? I mean, your batting practice hasn’t been great so-”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Sam’s eyes were glassy. He was quiet for a long while.

I started up the truck, and drove toward town. There was a diner open late, where we usually went for a pick-me-up.

About five minutes later, Sam turned to me. “I don’t know how to talk about what happened tonight.”

“Don’t worry about it. Stuff can get out of hand. You’re still my bud. No silly pranks are going to change that!”

“Derek… I’m gay.”

I felt like the world was shattering. I nodded cooly. “I see. What uh, makes you think that? Something tonight?”

“Not exactly. I’ve liked guys before, but I’ve kept it secret. Remember that time in college when I got taped to the bench? It was because I’d been caught sniffing a guy’s jock…”

I nodded, and turned to look at Sam peripherally. “Alright, so you’re gay. Why didn’t you mention it sooner? I wouldn’t have tried to hook you up with girls so much..”

Sam shook his head. “I guess I didn’t want anything between us to change.”

“I see…” I chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you’re out now.” I gave his shoulder a pat, and turned my attention back to the road. This was my chance to tell him I kinda-sorta thought about him too. But I didn’t. “So… Is there anyone you like?”

“Yes actually. There is a guy.”

“Yeah?” I winked, smiling to hide the envy rapidly building in the pit of my stomach. “You ask him out?”

Sam blushed. “Kind of? Not really…”

“Awww, what’s the matter. You’re not the shy type man! C’mon you can tell me. I wanna know!”

“You, Derek.”

I violently pulled my truck to the side of the road, slamming the brakes so hard they squeaked. My head was spinning incoherently, and my blood was rushing faster than I’d ever felt. My fists were white on the wheel.

Sam gulped, but continued bravely. “It was your jockstrap I was caught sniffing in college.. You’ve always been so cool. And I only kept playing because of you! I wanted so much to tell you, but I…”

“Get out.”

“I mean it, I really-”

“Get. Out. Of my truck.” I threw open the door, and stormed around to the passenger side. Sam had climbed out by the time I’d walked around.

“Please, Derek, I-”

I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, holding him back against the cab of the truck.

Sam looked me in the eye, his lip quivered slightly.

“Fuck.” I spat. “So all this time, you’ve had a crush on me. All this fucking time!” I slammed him against the truck again.

Sam nodded, tears welling in his eyes.

“A-and all this time I thought… That you…” Without another word, I leaned in and kissed Sam full on the mouth. In a second, he was kissing me right back, the way we’d always wanted to. I held him back against the truck, grinding my hips against his. He moaned, as both our boners returned. I thrust my tongue down his throat, kissing him deeply, and holding him tightly. Sam broke the kiss, and stared up at me, his hazel eyes glassy. A smile curled the corners of his lips.

“So…” He said with a sultry, knowing purr. “I’ve swiped enough of your jocks and socks to know how your sweat smells. And I know that it was you who played with me. Years ago, and then again tonight.”

I averted my eyes. “Yeah, I’m sorry I took it too far with-”

“Naw…” Sam shook his head. “I came thinking it was you. I like being your catcher, and I wanna be your catcher off the field too. You know what I’m saying…”

I looked up at him, studying his face for any sign that he was joking. “Alright then, catcher. We’ll get our burgers and fries to go, and then we’re going back to my place to make up for all this lost time.”

“You got it, man!” Sam hugged me, kissing me again. He pulled me against him and he leaned back against the truck. I nibbled his lip.

“Get that sweet ass back in the truck,” I smirked.

I patted his butt and watched him climb back into the cab. I got back into the drivers seat, and as I started the truck back up, Sam leaned over and stuck his head in my lap. He pulled out my bat and baseballs, and got right to taking care of them with his big sweet mouth. Oh yes, we had a lot of fucking to make up for. I also had a good feeling we were going to be hitting up those gay leather clubs a lot more too. As he sucked and slurped on my cock, I smiled. We were going to be so much more than pitcher and catcher after all this.

The End

Metal would like to thank Cutieboy90 for this story!