“Can I see your apartment?” Kim asked.“I don’t know if that would be a good idea,” I shot back.“What are you afraid of?” Kim pressed. “I don’t bite.”“That,” I said, “Is what I am afraid of.”Kim chuckled.“I promise I’ll be good.”“Good,” I replied, “is all relative.”Kim stepped in closer to where I stood stoic and unmovable, pressing her hot little body against me, dropping hold of my hand, and feeling for my manhood.Damn.I took Kim by her hand and silently pulled her out the door, across the hall, and into my apartment. As soon as I closed and latched the door, I pinned her against it holding on to her hands.“Just between us,” I said, as I looked into her oval eyes.She bit down on her lower lip, and I watched as a mischievous smile and a head nod in my direction, set the tone for a rambunctious and torrid hour of pure fun and excitement.Kim was every bit as sexy as her twin sister. She had a wild streak that belied understanding, preferring a lot of oral stimulation. She gave as good. She called me the morning after we got back in town. I was barely awake and still burned up about some errors behind me the night before, another losing game even though it did not go on my record. My stomach hurt so I had two Tums and some ersatz coffee for breakfast. The skies had cleared and there was a mild feel to the air, a good change after Atlanta's mugginess. I had just cranked open a window in my Silver Spring apartment and was admiring the maple trees' pale leaf buds and trying to figure out where the tireless mocking bird was hiding when the phone rang. I am pretty sure it was the first time anybody called me since I moved in and got the land-line phone installed. No one had my number as far as I knew, no one but the team I mean. I did not own a cell phone and did not want to own one."This is Andrea," a soft voice said. "Andrea Jepperson, we met."I nodded and said I remembered. Before the exhibition game with Baltimore, they lined us up in front of the dugout, and she had.
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