Then I heard Dave laugh and yell out “damn boys…she is soaking wet!” During the last bit of twisting and wiggling she had pushed her sweat pant... down some more and Dave had taken the opportunity to slip his hand in and give her pussy a stroke. He had hung on the pants as she moved away and now they were down to her knees. “Alright guys”, I said. “Let her up.” “You’re damn right let me up” Cheryl replied. But instead of pulling her pants back on, she stood up and stepped the rest of the. They have some weird bats at this place, most of which look and feel at least fifteen years old - heavy, dense, slow, with sweet spots that twang the batter's hands just like the rest of the barrel. There must have been a time when batters could feel when they'd hit the sweet spot on these bats, because it hurt just a tiny bit less. I slid the latch up on the door to the black iron cage, pushed it open, and deposited a token into the machine. I gripped the bat's handle tightly and dug my shoes. More

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