Even Emmy wasn't going to make me hit .750, or even half of that. What is half of .750, anyway?... Let's see -- half of .700 would be .350. So then --....375. No, no, I wasn't going to hit .375; or .350, either. Not even if Emmy Shreve was right there in the dugout, boffing me between plate appearances!But I felt a wonderful confidence that, now, I was going to hit. I was going to move up some in the batting order, when Stu Little eventually noticed that I was, reliably and consistently, pounding. I had just started out of the road yard when a pickup truck full of beehives went by. That reminded me that I needed to have more hives for the other two orchards and vineyard, as well as expanding the one up by the house. The pickup full of hives had its directional light blinking to turn into the market area, so I drove that way and turned in. The truck parked up by the dairy barn, so I parked next to it and followed the farmer in.The guy announced for everyone to hear, "Hey, everyone, I have. He was fucking me in synch with the techno beat, and I was loving it.After 10 hard minutes I had alreadt creamed on the felt platform, because every time he thrust into me my own hard cock was forced along the felt, strong friction with my glans as my forskin had peeled back. I spent while I was being fucked and to me it felt like a female orgasm. He kept on fucking me but he knew and said "You fucking love it don't you"."Yes", I said "It's what I came for!".He fucked me harder and faster, and. I could check off my list. So I called her out of no where. Mind you I had worked already sweat dripped from my face as I drove home, and as I was calling I never heard the dial tone because of how quick she came to answer. She replied first with "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!!!!" As I replied with "are you serious about your apology? Real serious?" Then she said "yes" sobbing, and coughing over the phone "I'm so sorry" so my fantasy began. "If you are so apologetic, then I need you to come to.