Juniper JonesChapter 5
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Juniper and I had a great dinner, even if, strictly speaking, it wasn't Italian. We agreed that Ramizotti's hours, varied menu, and prices all were superior, even to Sabatino's.
I had her home at a reasonable hour, teasing her a little about still living with her parents at her age -- almost twenty-four.
"They still want me around," she said, "and they're good people. I couldn't love Pops any more if he was my real dad, and ever since he came into our lives, Mom's been happier and a better mama than she was before, even."
"How long have they been together?"
"Ever since I was fourteen," she said. "And Franklin's been with the Orioles, in one capacity or another, for most of that time. He was a coach at Frederick, and then at Bowie for a year, and now he's been Paul Warren's bench coach for three years. Even when Pops was assigned to minor league clubs, we lived here in Baltimore for most of each year. It's been my home."
"I had a good time tonight. I thought I'd be pushing peas around a plate and listening to boring speeches. Instead, I meet a pretty girl and have an excellent Italian dinner."
"Next time we visit Ramizotti's Italian Restaurant," Juniper said, "we'll have to try the Kung Pao Chicken."
"Well, I'm pleased to hear you refer to a 'next time, '" I told her. "Would you like to give me your telephone number?"
Still seated in my car, she wrote down her name, cell phone number and her parents' address on a scrap of paper she'd found in her purse and handed it to me.
I figured it would be a little awkward, trying to reach up to her to bestow a goodnight kiss while standing at her front door, so before getting out of the car I leaned over and kissed her -- very gently -- half on the mouth, half on the cheek.
It was almost a brotherly smack. Deliberately innocent -- in case she had any sensitivities about kissing on the first date. It wasn't clear that this evening together could even be called a date. I just wanted to convey the fact that I felt warmly toward her. Nothing heavy.
I went for the door handle, preparing to leave the car, but the long-waisted Ms. Juniper Jones leaned way over into the driver's side and extended her right hand across my face, cupping my left cheek and pulling me back for a full-frontal adult-type kiss, into which Ms. Jones put a lot of pizzazz, not to mention considerable tongue.
"Damn!" I said when she finally released my face from her firm grasp. "I'm gonna remember that one!"
I escorted her to the front door, where she took out her own key and opened the door without further delay. "Enjoyed it," she said, and promptly disappeared inside.
Juniper Jones might be a good five inches taller than I was, but at that moment, I had sprouted a firm additional seven.
The Equalizer.
I carefully put her phone number note into my wallet where it wouldn't get lost in the shuffle with my grocery list and odd purchase receipts. I was most definitely going to call this girl back!
I played the full nine innings in the Orioles' annual exhibition game against the U.S. Naval Academy. We'd opened the season the day before and (in what seemed to me to be a peculiar practice) the Naval Academy game was sandwiched in between the first and second games of the regular season.
Well, I hadn't been called upon in the opener, not even to pinch hit, but I got four at bats against the Midshipmen and had two solid doubles, picking up a couple of ribbies. My spring training performance hadn't been half bad, either, and I figured by now Paul Warren ought to be pretty pleased to have me aboard as his spare outfielder.
After the game, I spotted Juniper just outside the players' entrance, talking to her step dad.
"Nice game!" she shouted as soon as she saw me.
"My first chance to play at Camden Yards," I said, nodding at Franklin Jones.
"It won't be your last," he said. "You looked solid out there tonight."
"Well, that kid pitcher for Navy wasn't exactly overwhelming."
"He was decent," Jones said. "He only gave up six hits all night, and you got two of them."
Juniper was through talking exhibition baseball. "Think you could give me a ride home tonight?" she said to me.
"You're not with your dad?"
"Sure, I'm... with him, but he won't mind if I drove home with you. Will you, FJ?"
Franklin Jones' expression was rueful. "Second time she's seen you, and both times, she drops the Old Guy like a hot brick and runs off with the young ballplayer."
"Hey, you're not half bad -- for an old fart," Juniper said, punching her stepfather lightly on his chest. "But you're all taken. Mom, for reasons not entirely clear to me, still thinks you're a good-looking, sexy dude. I guess it must be her old age. Maybe her eyes are starting to go."
"Take her off my hands," Franklin told me. "You've already been to our house once. You probably know the way."
"Don't wait up, FJ," Juniper said. "I've got my key, and me and Travis, here, might be awhile."
When we got to the Mini-Cooper, I opened the passenger door and watched as Juniper gracefully folded her length into the seat. "You had ribs at Ramizotti's," I said. "Do you want some real Italian tonight?"
"You don't need to feed me," she said. "I know how you guys attack that fancy spread in the clubhouse before and after games. And I had a couple of Boog's beef sandwiches myself. Why don't we just go to your place, maybe have a glass of wine?"
"My place isn't anything to write home about," I told her. "I'm brand-new in town and haven't really even unpacked all my boxes yet."
"But you don't have any roommates, do you?" Juniper said. "And you don't live with your parents, like some people?"
"No roommates, no parents. Just two bedrooms and a bath in a second-rate apartment complex."
"Sounds fine. Take me home."
Well, it was late, and I'd played a full nine innings for the first time since the previous fall. I was a little tired and was thankful that Juniper didn't have her heart set on a night out on the town. It being only our second time together, I would never have even suggested going with her to my apartment, but if that was her idea of a good time, it was more than okay with me.
When we got there, Juniper left her shoes just inside the front door and padded barefoot across the living room, sprawling on my couch. She was casually dressed in a skirt and sweater, it being early April and still a bit nippy in Baltimore after sundown.
"You mind if I lose this sweater?" she asked. "It was nice for the ballpark but it's a little too warm for indoors."
"Not at all," I said, expecting her to be wearing a blouse or a T-shirt under the sweater.
Turned out she was wearing only a bra.
She was small-breasted, as I already had known, but I hadn't expected to see her down to skirt and bra in my apartment so soon after our first meeting only three days back.
"Can I get you a glass of wine?" I said.
"If this makes you nervous or something, you could lend me a T-shirt," she said.
"I'll get one for you, in case you want to wear it," I said, smiling, "but don't wear it on my account."
I brought her the T-shirt, and the glass of wine she hadn't bothered to ask for, and she promptly put the T-shirt on. However, as soon as she had done so she had both hands inside it, unfastening the bra and going through that mysterious girl-thing of removing the bra without removing her outer covering.
Her breasts were small, but her nipples, through my loaner T-shirt, were pokey and prominent.
"Much better!" Juniper said, sampling the wine. "If you'd have given me a bigger T-shirt, I could have lost the skirt, too!"
"Maybe I should just turn off the heat," I said, smiling.
"No, it's fine," she said, smiling broadly. " ... Although you seem to be sweating a little."
I think perhaps I was. Juniper's actions had been provocative and unmistakably flirtatious. For a girl with whom I'd spent a grand total of perhaps three hours, she was treating me like an old, old friend.
"Good wine," she said.
"It's just supermarket stuff," I protested. "I'm not exactly a connoisseur of fine wine."
"Maybe not, but it's not bad at all."
There was a pause while we both savored my supermarket white.
"Wanna fuck?" Juniper said.
Well, she didn't have to ask me twice. The T-shirt she'd just put on was whisked off again, and I got my first look at Juniper's long, long legs as the skirt and panties were quickly stripped off as well.
I was still sitting there, fully dressed. This was happening way too fast!
"I've shown you mine," she said.
I stripped off my clothes as hastily as I could, with Juniper watching me carefully throughout. When I unveiled my hardening cock, she took it in her outstretched hand and squeezed gently, bringing me up to a full erection. She used my penis as a convenient handle and pulled the rest of me down between her legs as she half-reclined on my living room couch.
Despite her extremely slender figure, Juniper was an erotic sight with her legs spread invitingly below me and her guiding hand showing me where she wanted me to go with my erect penis.
I didn't want to just go for it without any preliminaries, but Juniper didn't appear to be in any mood for foreplay. She rubbed her shaven pussy with my glans, demonstrating to me that she was sufficiently lubricated for immediate penetration.
That's what she clearly wanted, and so that's what she got.
It worried me. I knew it was going to be difficult, holding back long enough to give her any kind of pleasure with this slam-bam, thank-you-ma'am approach to intercourse.
Just as I had feared, the searing heat of her interior and the tightness of her youthful body brought immediate, almost unbearable pleasure, and no sooner was I buried inside her than I was feeling the first urgent sensation of a desire to ejaculate.
Please, God, no! Not already.
I forced myself to stop moving, just holding fast, buried deep inside Juniper's body. Clamping both my hands on her butt, I held her tight, refusing to allow her to move her body.
I wanted to avoid the exquisite feeling of that tight pussy, squeezing me unmercifully. She was enthusiastic to a fault, but I knew she was going to get nothing out of this union unless I could immediately regain some control.
Mikayla
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