He was 6 foot 1 and in good shape. He was 48 years old. I was 15 and had blonde hair all the way to my ass and a nice tan. Blue eyes and a firm young ...ody with b cup tits. Most guys told me I was hot.I started flirting with him, and smiling. I made sure to sit in the front and wore short skirts and low cut shirts. I often spread my legs under my desk, but I never caught him looking. I did see him looking down my shirt a few times when I leaned over his desk, but he never did anything. It was a mistake.* * *I took scant notice of the guys leaving. I hadn’t even realised they had removed their locked keys from my wrists. The room was still dark. I couldn’t see the door. The little bastard was pushing me out of my brain. I couldn’t believe the little fucker had got out! How in the hell? It didn’t matter, he was out and I needed to recapture him.My body felt like I was moving through treacle as I crawled to the door. Every movement needed to be forced and tremors started up. Standing before me were men and woman. Some touching others, some touching themselves, but Master sat and watched as my legs were pulled further apart by two males. Soon another female joined in and another. I had a woman ontop of me, a woman beneath me, fingers, tongues and toys inside me. Black girls, White girls, Asian girls. Bodies moved and flowed. I tasted cum on lips mixed with flavors of Rum and whiskey. My body ached and exploided with the fiersest orgasim any woman had ever given. They must surely know that I literally never take my glove out of my duffle.They didn’t call me Stonefingers for nothing.I wasn’t even all that much of a pinch runner. It was designated hitter, a pinch hitter, or designated bench jockey. Those were the choices.I thought it was strange that Baltimore would bring up somebody early who was dismal on defense. Sure, I was happy, but I kind-of wished they’d have gone ahead and waited for the September roster expansion. At least that way, I could have.