.”“Hi, Tony, you okay?”“Oh Christ, forgot where I was for a moment, err sorry about this….,” he smiled looking down at his shiny cockhead....“Was having such a lovely dream, was your ears red?”“What?” I blurted out.“Just joking, but looks as though you were…., err doing the same…..” not finishing the sentence, still smiling he glancing away from me to his cock and then back to the tent my cock was still making in the sheet.‘Well, I… I… I…,’ I stammered, and for a moment thought he hadn’t been. We got the word after the game that the Angels had clinched the American League West, and that Seattle could lose every remaining game and still be the League's Wild Card team in the playoffs.So it was official, now. Beat the Goddamned Yankees or forget about it.The regular season's too long. The players can't sustain their emotional highs for 162 games. There aren't enough breathing spaces. Not enough days off. Not enough family time.I was fresher than most. Maybe because I was the only Oriole. More

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