It had been over a month since Haruhi entered the SOS Brigade team in a baseball tournament. I thought she would have learned her lesson regarding those things, but apparently not.
"We got close last time," she told us. "In fact, we probably would have won if Koizumi didn't have to leave at the last minute." She signed us up again.
We were able to reassemble the same team for the most part. The five members of the SOS Brigade — me, Mikuru, Koizumi, Nagato, and Haruhi — once again joined Kunikida, Taniguchi, and Miss Tsuruya. When my little sister wasn't able to make it, Haruhi drafted the drummer from the band Enoz, Mizuki Okajima, as our ninth. Haruhi figured her expertise handling wooden sticks would translate well to swinging a bat.
The lineup pretty much matched the previous offering. Haruhi batted first, Mikuru second, and Yuki third. I batted cleanup.
For some strange reason, the other team's pitcher choked when pitching to the fairer sex. A Samurai fireball thrower with a reputation for wildness, hitting girls conflicted with his code of honor. So he walked the first three batters, loading the bases.
As our team's first male batter — or should I say, this pitcher's first acceptable target — I didn't want to get anywhere near that batter's box.
"Hit it out of the park," Haruhi screamed. "Knock the cover off the ball."
Right. The only thing knocking was my knees. I froze when Koizumi called my name. I couldn't bring myself to leave the dugout.
Miss Tsuruya sat next to me. "Come on, Kyon. You can do it. Hit one out of the park."
"I'm too nervous," I replied, rubbing my thus-far uncracked skull. "I don't think I can."
"Yes, you can." Tsuruya put her arm around my shoulder and kissed me on the cheek. "That's for good luck. Now go out there and hit a home run."
"If you want a home run out of that guy, a peck on the cheek isn't going to cut it," Haruhi shouted. She'd been taking in everything with her eagle eyes and ears from her perch at third base. "If you want to wrench a good performance out of Kyon, it's going to take a blow job."
Everyone on the opposing team laughed at Haruhi's joke, as well as the umpire. Half the people in our dugout chuckled, too.
Tsuruya didn't laugh. She dropped to her knees. Before I could protest, my sweatpants were down at my ankles, my dick was in her mouth, and I was in heaven. Haruhi's jaw hit the ground.
"Batter up," yelled the ump. A side wall blocked his view of the action.
"Time out please, Mr. Ump," Haruhi shouted. "I twisted my ankle and need some tape." On cue, Mizuki reached into the sports bag and trotted out some athletic tape.
"Be quick about it," the ump bellowed.
As Haruhi and Mizuki ran interference, I reclined back on the bench and enjoyed the best blow job of my life. Though Tsuruya's mouth-work rocked, my jangled nerves kept me from coming as quickly as I normally would have had this beautiful girl gone down on me during a proper date (we're talking 30 seconds). Fortunately, Haruhi managed to stretch her ankle-taping session out to three minutes.
Around the two minute mark, I dutifully released a huge load of cum into Tsuruya's mouth. She giggled as a seemingly unending flow of semen gushed past her lips. Finally, my ejaculation subsided. Tsuruya pulled off me sporting chipmunk cheeks filled with fluid — which she swallowed down in small gulps.
"You're incredible, Kyon," she said after the last gulp. "There was so much stuff." She licked her lips. "And it was delicious."
"You're the incredible one here," I said. "Your blow job was fantastic."
"Better than Haruhi's?"
"I don't know. Haruhi's never blown me."
As if she'd been listening, our brigade leader shouted, "I call B.J. dibs on his next at-bat — but only if he hits a grand slam on this one."
I put myself away, grabbed a bat, and strolled out to home plate determined. The first pitch raced toward my chin, sailing inside and high, just as expected. I hopped back and swung with all my might.
My bat made solid contact. Everyone cheered as the ball arced over the center-field fence. I'd done it. I'd hit a grand slam that cleared the bases.
Back at the dugout, Haruhi addressed us. "You guys know I was only kidding about blowing Kyon, right? We're a baseball team, not a sex club."
My fellow teammates met her words with boos and hissing.
"Keep your word, Haruhi," Tsuruya said. "He hit the home run because you challenged him."
"Yeah," Taniguchi chimed in. "Don't be a welcher."
Red-faced and reprimanded, Haruhi sighed, "Oh, all right."
When my next at-bat approached, true to her word, Haruhi knelt at my feet. My teammates stood arm-to-arm to create a privacy fence while Haruhi went downtown to do her business. She sucked me off with skill and wild abandon. In return, I filled her cheeks — and nearly passed out.
If I were asked to rank them, I'd have to say Haruhi and Tsuruya tied in the oral pleasuring department. I'd have to say that because if I picked one over the other, it would likely decrease the odds of either girl sucking me off again. Now, we had a healthy competition going.
A competition others wanted in on.
"Kyon's penis looks amazing," Enoz drummer Mizuki said. "I want a piece of that next time around. I don't care how well he bats."
Mikuru raised her hand. "Could I please take my turn after her?"
"I will provide fellatio for his fifth at-bat," Yuki Nagato added in her trademark stoic voice. She looked up at me. "If no one objects."
No one objected.
In the end, five beautiful women sucked my dick to orgasm. In my scorebook, that equaled hitting five grand slam home runs. In real life I got one grand slam — then I grounded out, hit a single, struck out, and walked. Plus, we won the game.
All in all, I'd call that a damn good day on the diamond.