1987: Baseball Game

1987: Baseball Game

Three Rivers Stadium in Pittsburgh was one of those "concrete doughnut" ballparks built in the 1970s with zero charm or character. The food choices were pretty much limited to peanuts and hot dogs, but a ticket and beer would cost you less than five dollars. They've all been replaced now by bougie stadiums like Heinz Field and Camden Yards, with their trendy restaurants and microbreweries. But, as I found out on April 28, 1987 when the Dodgers came to town to play the Pirates, there was magic in those old buildings.

I was finishing up my second year of law school. Sarah and I were in all the same classes and worked together in a study group with a few other friends. Sarah was one of the top students in our class and a baseball fanatic. She loved the Dodgers, so when they came to Pittsburgh for a three-game series with Fernando Valenzuela pitching the opener, there was no way she was going to miss it. She invited our whole study group to go, but when the others saw that it was going to be cold and windy they all bowed out.

I was her only hope. Some girls would have batted their eyelashes and pleaded with me, but not Sarah. She approached the subject like it was a legal argument, pointing out that I, too, claimed to be a baseball fan, that Valenzuela led National League in wins the year before and came in second in Cy Young voting, that I prided myself on being spontaneous and fun, and on and on.

"Please?" she finally added. "I'll even bring a bottle of tequila to help keep us warm."

"OK, OK!" I agreed. "I'll go."

Sarah gave a curt nod, as if we both understood I would eventually fold under her powers of persuasion. I played it like I didn't want to go, but in truth I was thrilled to take in a game with Sarah. I had a mad crush on her since our first day in Torts as 1Ls.

Sarah had short red hair and a beautiful face with big, deep eyes and pouty lips, like Anna Taylor-Joy from the Queen's Gambit. She was one of the top students in our class and was the only one in our study group to make Law Review. You could tell she was always thinking, the wheels in her brain always turning. We all felt she was destined for great things, like being a judge or senior partner in a law firm. Although we were friends and spent hours reading, writing and working together, she seemed unapproachable on a romantic level. She was so smart, pretty and successful that I was intimidated.

>>>

We gave our tickets at the gate and walked up the ramp to the loge level. I couldn't believe how empty the ballpark was. The capacity of the old stadium was almost 60,000, and that night only about 3,000 people braved the weather. It turned out to be the lowest attendance of the season. The ushers weren't even checking tickets once you got inside. You could pretty much sit wherever you wanted.

We started out in the front row of the lodge, one level up from the field behind home plate. Sarah pulled a blanket out of our backpack and spread it over us to keep warm, then opened her scorecard and wrote in the lineups with a pencil. "I always keep score," she explained.

Back in those days you could bring almost anything you wanted into the stadium - no metal detectors or security. You weren't supposed to bring in glass bottles, but no one inspected our backpack so it was no problem. I pulled out the bottle of tequila, keeping it hidden under the blanket.

"You want a swig?" I asked. "It'll help keep you warm."

Sarah looked around nervously. We were sitting in a conspicuous, brightly lit spot. I could tell she was thinking - she couldn't tell me to put the bottle away, since it was part of our deal, but it was too risky to tip it up where we sat.

"How about we move back there?" she suggested, pointing to left field. "We can sit under the covered part where we can hide a little better. Might be warmer, too."

"Sounds good," I said.

We moved down the left field line and up almost to the back row of the loge, taking seats that were underneath the next level. It was dark and empty there, with no one else within five sections of where we sat. After the national anthem we spread the blanket over us again and took our first shots of tequila.

"Aaah, that burns!" Sarah said, wiping her lips. "I think that's enough tequila for me tonight."

"Only one?" I laughed and took a swig myself, enjoying the warm burn of Jose Cuervo sliding down my throat. I knew Sarah wasn't much of a drinker, and if she decided she didn't want any more there was no way I would convince her otherwise.

The first inning went fast, with both teams going down 1-2-3. At the top of the second, before the Dodgers came to bat, I said, "let's make it interesting. How about this - if the Dodgers score this inning I'll buy you a hot dog and a soda, but if the Pirates score you do another shot of tequila?"

Sarah furrowed her brow, thinking carefully, as usual. I knew I had a chance to get her to do another shot if I made it a challenge. The Pirates were one of the worst teams in the league and Valenzuela was 3-0 at that point in the season, so I knew Sarah would be confident. I was going to buy her a hot dog and a Coke anyway so I had nothing to lose.

"Deal!" she agreed.

With two outs the Dodgers had runners on first and second with Steve Sax coming to bat, one of the best hitters in the National League.

"Looks like someone's going to buy me a hot dog!" Sarah gloated, but Sax popped out and the Dodgers failed to score. I laughed and took another swig of tequila.

In the bottom of the inning Sid Bream hit a triple for the Pirates then scored on a single.

"Here you go!" I said triumphantly, offering Sarah the bottle. To her credit she didn't just sip but took a healthy gulp. I took another big swig, too.

At the top of the third I proposed the same bet - Dodgers score and I buy dinner, Pirates score she does another shot of tequila.

"No more tequila for me," she said. "How about something else?"

"OK," I said, taking a moment to ponder the possibilities.

"How about this," I offered, slightly buzzed from the tequila, "I'll buy the dogs if the Dodgers score, but if the Pirates score again... you give me a kiss?" My face immediately went red. I couldn't believe I actually said it. I was about to backpedal, say 'just kidding," but Sarah cut me off.

"You want to kiss me?" she asked, surprised.

"Ummm, yeah. Kind of," I replied, blushing.

She shrugged. "OK. It's a bet."

In the top of the third the Dodgers went down scoreless, leaving a runner on first base. In the bottom of the inning the Pirates put runners on first and second with two outs.

"Better get your lips ready," I teased.

"Not with Valenzuela on the mound," she responded dryly.

The next batter got a hit, scoring a run for the Pirates.

"Hmph," Sarah said. "I guess I owe you a kiss."

"Guess so," I smirked. Sarah leaned over and brought her lips to mine. I wasn't sure how it was going to go and felt weird about winning a kiss in a bet, but she pressed her soft lips to mine and held them there for a few seconds. It wasn't making out or anything, but definitely more than a peck on the cheek.

"You taste like tequila," she giggled as she sat back in her seat. It was the first time I ever heard her giggle.

The Pirates now had runners on first and third. The next batter got another hit, scoring another run. I looked at Sarah inquisitively.

"A deal's a deal, I guess," she said and brought her lips to mine again. As before, she held them there, and without thinking I slipped my tongue out. It was a bold move and I shocked myself by doing it, but to my surprise Sarah parted her lips and eased her tongue into my mouth. We sat there while the next Pirate batter struck out, our tongues sliding against each other as the Dodgers ran off the field and into the dugout. She felt and tasted wonderful. I was thrilled to be sitting with her in the dark reaches of the stadium, under our blanket, kissing sweetly.

Finally Sarah pulled off and sat back. "If you wanted to kiss me before, why didn't you?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I wish I did. I like kissing you."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Here's another bet," she offered. "How about if either team makes an out this inning, you kiss me again?"

"Every time there's an out?" I asked eagerly.

"Every time," she confirmed.

"I don't think that's technically a bet," I pointed out, "but I'll take it."

Sarah and I spent the next inning making out, not paying attention to the game anymore. Sometime around the fifth inning I reached under the blanket and cautiously trailed my hand up along the front of her shirt, over her medium-sized boobs. When her only response was to kiss me harder, I slipped my hand underneath her shirt and bra and squeezed her naked tits, taking each one in my hand and playing with her nipples. My fondling seemed to ignite a fire in her and she kissed me wildly, holding my head in her hands while her tongue washed over the inside of my mouth.

As I massaged her breasts Sarah slipped a hand under the blanket and into my lap, squeezing my raging erection through my pants. I couldn't believe how fast things were developing - I had always assumed Sarah was a prude -- but she was absolutely on fire. I gasped when she unsnapped my jeans, lowered my zipper, and reached into my underwear. She took my throbbing rod in her hands and stroked.

"Oh, you have a nice cock, Tommy," she growled into my mouth. Again, I was surprised to feel Sarah jerking me off and talking about my "cock." Never in the two years I knew her did she ever swear or say anything remotely inappropriate.

If I thought getting a hand job from Sarah at the ballpark was shocking, I nearly had a heart attack when she scanned the seats around us and, seeing no one near, dropped her head under the blanket and took my hard cock in her mouth.

"Oh, my God!" I gasped. I looked out over the brightly lit field of green as the blanket bobbed up and down in my lap. I grabbed the arm rests of my seat, my body rigid with astonishment. Sarah sucked the head of my shaft and fisted the base with one hand while she rubbed my balls with the other. I could feel her tongue twirling over my cockhead. She definitely knew what she was doing.

"Oh, God, Sarah," I panted. I was already excited beyond belief just from making out with her, and her talented sucking was bringing me rapidly to climax.

"Sarah," I warned, "I'm going to cum..."

"Mmmmm," she squealed, increasing her efforts. My heart skipped a beat as I realized she intended to suck me dry. She pumped harder and rubbed my balls, seemingly desperate for my load.

"Eeaayaaiiii!" I shouted as the first spurt erupted from cock, coating her tongue in my seed. Sarah held still, gently fisting the base of my rod as I shot globs of cum into her sucking mouth. Sarah milked my shaft and balls until she had drained me of every drop and swallowed it down. She came up from the blanket with a huge smile on her face.

"Oh, that was lovely," she sang. "You should have tried to kiss me sooner!"

I shook my head, speechless. Sarah snuggled up to me and worked her hands under the blanket, zipping me back up and buttoning my pants. "How about another bet?" she asked.

"Sure," I replied, my head spinning.

"How about you take care of me now? My pussy is soaking wet."

Again, this uninhibited side of her was completely unexpected, but I was more than happy to comply.

"Sure!" I agreed. I slid my hands under the blanket and found that Sarah had already pushed her pants and panties down below her knees. She was right - her pussy was soaking wet. I slid my fingers up and down her slit then pushed my middle finger inside of her and ground my palm against her clit, making her groan.

I was about to dive down under the blanket when Sarah grabbed my head. "Not here," she said, breathing heavily. "Just use your hand, OK? I like what you're doing - it feels good."

"Uh, OK," I said, not sure I could get her off with just my hand.

Sarah closed her eyes and sat back. She hooked her legs over the armrests of her seat, spreading herself wide for me under the blanket. I fingered her pussy and rubbed her clit, eager to bring her to climax.

"Mmmm, yes," Sarah purred, "just like that."

I kept rubbing, enjoying the feel of her wet, warm pussy. Sarah was leaning back in her seat, eyes closed, a sexy moan rumbling from deep within.

"Talk dirty to me," she said quietly as I rubbed.

What? I thought. No girl had ever asked me to do that.

"Talk dirty?" I said, making sure I heard her right.

She nodded, keeping her eyes shut tight. I had never done it before, but I had an issue of Penthouse Letters magazine with a whole section of letters about talking dirty. It was one of my favorites. The idea got me excited but I never thought any girl would ever want me to do it. I wasn't sure how to begin.

"Do you like my pussy?" Sarah whispered, trying to get me started.

Well, let's give this a try, I thought. Here goes.

"I love your pussy," I replied, wiggling my finger in her tight tunnel. "It's, uh, so wet, so warm."

"Mmmmm, yeah," Sarah replied. "Sucking your cock made me all wet."

I was beginning to get the idea. "I want to fuck this pussy with my hard cock," I growled. "You want that? You want me to fuck you?"

"Ooooh, yes!" Sarah rasped, spreading her legs wider, a huge smile on her face. "Not here though. You can fuck me back on campus. Anytime."

"Oh, fuck yes," I said grinding my palm into her clit, getting into the groove of talking dirty. "I'm going to fuck your brains out. It's going to feel so good to slide my cock into your tight little cunt. I'm going to fill you up with my cum!"

"Oh, yes," she gasped. "Dirtier."

Dirtier? She wanted me to talk dirtier? Years later someone explained to me that the smartest women are always the kinkiest, and Sarah was definitely bearing that out.

"Do you think I'm a slut?" she panted, pointing me in the direction she wanted me to go. "Am I slutty?"

Wow, I thought, this is wild. Fortunately Penthouse Letters had given me some good ideas. I decided not to hold back.

"I love that you're a slut, baby," I said, flicking my finger over her clit. "I loved the way you sucked my cock. Did you like it, baby? Did you like being a cocksucker for me? A slutty cocksucker?"

I was worried that calling her a cocksucker might be going too far, but Sarah quickly disabused me of that notion.

"I love being a cocksucker for you, Tommy. You have such a nice cock. Your cum was delicious. I'll suck your cock anytime."

Hmmmm, I wondered. How far can I go with this?

"Oh, yeah," I continued, pushing two fingers into her dripping snatch. "You're a sexy little slut! I bet you would have liked it if I pulled the blanket back and everyone could see you sucking my cock, see what a slut you are! You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Oh, God!" she squealed. I ground my palm into her clit and finger-fucked her rapidly.

"Yeah, maybe they would have even show that on TV - your mouth stuffed with cock, swallowing cum for everyone to see, showing what a slut you are, what a cocksucking slut you are!"

"Ohhh, God!" she shrieked, "I'm cummmiinngggg!"

By the time we came back down to earth it was the 7th inning and the Dodgers were still down 3-0. When Valenzuela got pulled for a pinch-hitter we went back to Sarah's dorm room and played together all night long. I got to go down on her, eating her sweet pussy before we fucked like crazy. I lost track of how many loads I pumped into her juicy cunt as I whispered dirty things in her ear.

>>>

After that night Sarah and I had great sex almost every week until we graduated a year later. Sarah helped me learn the art of talking dirty - there was almost nothing that was too nasty for me to say to her. We were never officially boyfriend and girlfriend, mostly because Sarah was too devoted to her studies to sustain a relationship. After graduation we went our separate ways, starting our careers as lawyers.

Sarah became a real mover and shaker in the legal community. From time to time I'd hear about her exploits through legal newspapers or the grapevine. Sometimes I'd run into her at a conference or on a business trip, and twice we rekindled the good times we had back in law school, but that's another story.

Fernando Valenzuela pitched 10 more years but was never again dominant like he was before the 1987 season. The Dodgers won the World Series the next year, and when Kirk Gibson had his famous Game 1 home run I called Sarah to celebrate. She thanked me and said she'd never forget the connection she and I had to the Dodgers.

They tore down Three Rivers Stadium in 2000 and replaced it with Heinz Field. I've never been there, but whenever I see a Pirates or Steelers home game on TV I can't help but think back to that cold and windy night under our blanket at the old ballpark.