If your not 18 you shouldn't be reading this come back when you're old enough. This story contains sex between two males without the use of condoms. I strongly urge any male out there having sex with anyone to use condoms. Being safe is the only way to play and live a healthy life without the fear of std's. Be smart. Be safe. If you enjoy this story let me know I am enjoying writing this and might continue with some more of this story and what happens between Trevor and Mark. All rights belong to the author. Contact me at Aragon76@aol.com with comments thoughts and suggestions you might have. Enjoy if nothing else! Thanks in advance to any and all replies they mean a lot to me and my writing ideas.
For those of you who are reading this for the first time you might want to go back to Adult in the archives and look for a story named Steve and Mike. I hope I can make you laugh and cry and be outraged and all those things I made you feel the first time. As always feel free to write and speak your mind, I respond to anyone that writes to me, both the good and the bad. And yes I got both the first time but I answered them all. Just be patient in my response time, sometimes it takes me a few days. And I promise to try and keep the chapter's coming quickly enough.
Chapter One
I don't know what to say I've never been comfortable talking about myself, then again I don't think there are to many people who are. Try sitting in front of a group of people and start talking about yourself, just the good things, no bad things allowed. How comfortable do you think you would be and how long do you think you could talk? Five minutes, ten minutes, what if you had to talk for a half hour, I'll stick to five minutes and bet ten bucks that you wouldn't last five minutes. I think you see my point.
I'll do the best I can to tell you about myself. My name is Trevor Markham Stratmore. I don't know where my parents got that name but I was one of those growing up that liked it, it sounded good to me. I use to think sometimes that it gave me confidence or maybe that was just an inflated ego talking to me at times. I'm six foot five inches tall which I got from my father's side of the family. The rest of my looks came from my mother's side. I havd dirty blond hair which seemed to be dusted all over my body. I was prone to having a mustache from the time I could have one, I just thought it made me look older. I kept it neat at all times. I had to shave all the way down to where my shirts came up to otherwise I looked like a walking ape. And from the neck down I had a dusting of hair that covered my entire body, not a lot, just enough and dark enough to see when I wore a bathing suit in public, I even had hair on my back that covered every inch. I wasn't fat I weighed in at two hundred and forty pounds, no fat on me, but I was built solid. I worked out at the gym three to four times a week, mostly three times as I hated going, but I tried to keep myself fit and my heart healthy.
Being a doctor makes you pay attention to your health a little more than the regular joe, at least that's my belief, but then again I've seen some doctors that have no thought given to their physical well being. But that's their decision in life, it just isn't mine. I don't have a six pack and I don't have arms as big as my thighs. I just stay healthy. That tells you what I look as for the rest I'll be brief this is the part that's hard to talk about, how do you tell people about yourself without sounding conceited? I wanted to be a doctor since I can remember, I think it started in the six grade when we started experiments in science. I loved it from the minute I dissected my first frog, after that I wanted to know what made a body tick and how it worked inside. I never altered from that desire, my father tried to talk me into trying other things but I never faltered from wanting to be a doctor. By the time I was looking at colleges to go to my father agreed that me being a doctor was going to happen and he backed me up one hundred percent and did everything he could to help me get into a school that I would be happy with. I wasn't going to go to Harvard or Yale or someplace like that, I wasn't interested in those kind of schools, even though I knew what graduating from one of them meant to a career. But I'm not a person who's about name dropping and being snobby, I'm just not like that. I like the simple things in life and when I chose the school I wanted to get my bachelor's at I knew what I wanted to do. The school was only a few hours away so coming home from time to time wouldn't be a big deal. Besides I wanted to keep in touch with my Dad while I was in school, after all he was my biggest fan and supporter while I struggled through my years of schooling. Once I had my bachelor's I'd transfer to another larger school perhaps one with a little prestiage and reputation. Only to satisfy myself that I could get into a school like that with a scholarship to go along with it. I was successful on both plato's. I ended up in Princeton with a full ride academic scholarship. Besides I couldn't afford it all and I knew my father couldn't either. Needless to say he was proud as punch when he schlolarship came through, just as much as I was I think.
I'm the kind of person that's driven by the need to fix people and make them well again. I don't like to see people in pain, I don't think it's necessary anymore with the advances that medicine has made. I work very hard with those that suffer from lifelong diseases. I know I can't fix them but I try to help them cope the best I can with their lives and the way they are forced to live it with whatever illness they suffer from. I like working with my hands and take pride in being able to make something look good when it starts out looking like shit, pardon my french. I believe that everyone should be treated fairly until they prove to me that they don't deserve it, although I've never met anyone that ever crossed that line of not being treated unfairly. We are after all human beings, not one of us is perfect and that my friend is what makes the world an interesting place to live in. I think being gay is what taught me to have an open mind about people and how they should be treated. I knew how I had grown up and some of the ways that I had been treated because I was "different" from what society perceived as what was acceptable. I thank god it's changing but it's a long way off from being a "normal" way of life. Anyone who is gay knows exactly of what I speak. If you haven't felt it in your life then you've been very lucky and have led a sheltered life. When I told my father he was surprised but never batted an eye, he put his arms around me and told he would love me no matter what I was in life, and he made it clear that he didn't mean it in just a sexual way. He told me he'd be proud of me if I was a bank robber, as long as I was good at it! I know he didn't mean it but it made me feel good about myself and being gay. We talked many times about me being gay because he told me straight out that he didn't understand it. I was surprised sometimes at the questions he asked but I never kept quiet and we just kept the lines of communication open between us. I think it gave us have a stronger bond as I was growing up knowing that I could talk to him about anything.
I don't know what else to tell you about myself, I'm not a saint and I don't pretend to be. I have a temper when my patience is pushed, but I'll admit that it takes a lot for that to happen. I'm honest with people, sometimes to a fault. I've opened my mouth on more than one occassion when I should have probably kept it shut. But I've learned over the years to be a little better at thinking before inserting foot in mouth. At least I hope I have.
I don't clean up after myself often enough, so at times I have to stop everything else and clean up my mess. I call myself a part time slob. I'm good for a while with keeping my living space clean, but I get lazy and before you know it I have a small disaster to pick up, but there are worse things in life that's for sure. I don't know what else to say about myself, like I've said I have a hard time talking about me.
Once I had graduated from school and had gotten the job that I have currently have I decided that it was time to find a bigger place for me to live in. The two bedroom apartment was just getting to small for me, the walls seemed to be closing in with the more stuff that I brought into the place. So after some thought about it and talking it over with my Dad I began to look for a place that I could buy on my own, a place that I could call home.
It took me a while to find a place but I finally did. From the outside it looked weathered and worn but after all it had been built in the early sixties and it was now almost fifty years old. Even if the last tenants had kept it up to some degree it wouldn't look as old and beaten down as it does now. But I bought the house anyway, mostly because the price was right for someone who was buying a house on their own for the first time. I was just hoping that I could prove to be the handyman that my father had been. I was hoping that somehow it was genetic and I'd be able to make it look as good as he had made the house that I had grown up in, at least that was my dream.
I hadn't helped my father when he was working on the house I had been too busy being involved with sports and being a kid that liked being on the run all the time. He never complained, I had my chores everyday but he never once complained about me playing sports or working a job.
I found the place after spending six months of searching. I had spent countless weekends driving through unknown neighborhoods, just looking to find a place that I thought I might like to buy and work on. I don't know how many I looked at and I was beginning to think I'd never find anything I could afford. It was either too much and I couldn't afford it or it was so cheap that I questioned whether or not I even wanted to live it while I worked on fixing it up. I just didn't want to spend years living in drafty rooms until I could get to the point of fixing it. But I finally found the place that I liked and could afford and it was liveable while I worked on fixing it.
157 Chestnut Street. It was on a dead end street in a quiet section of town. The last owners had just gotten too old to maintain it and keep it up the last seven or eight years they had lived there, there was nothing they could do because of their age, they had just gotten to old to own a property.
But it was their home and they didn't want to leave it and I can't say that I blame them for that. Once you've lived someplace that long how would you feel about leaving? Especailly if the only place you were headed was into a nursing home or an assisted living facility I know I wouldn't want to leave under those circumstances. So the house had fallen into disrepair. I don't know if I would say lucky for me or not. But whatever it was, it was mine now to do with whatever I wanted to and that meant everything to me at the time. I had some ideas that I couldn't wait to do to the place once I got moved in.
I turned thirty two a week before I moved in and I felt on top of the world. My career was moving forward, I was being good and going to the gym on a regular basis. I was working at the local hospital without being overworked. I was surprised the town even had a hospital given it's small population.
But it was located out in the country and served the community well enough, anything to serious and most folks went into the bigger hospitals in Boston. I liked being there you got to know the people that you dealt with.
Mostly it was the elderly that we saw on a regular basis and the occassional accident victim. Other than that not to much exciting happened at the hospital. I worked the emergency room most of them time and filled in on the floor when the staff was running tight.
I didn't have much time for anything else once I bought the house. It seemed that I was either working at the hospital or working on the house, little by little. Whatever days I had off I spent in the garage measuring, cutting and painting or staining. What else did I have time for except for those two things. My father would come by on the days that we both had off at the same time, which didn't happen that often. But I was glad for the days that he came, he was able to point out things that I wasn't sure of, things that he had already encountered when he was working on the home that I grew up in. It was a time that I treasured when we were together. I was close to my father he was the one that had brought me up and taught me all my values and beliefs. My mother had died when I was four, I don't remember her much but my father told me so much about her over the years that in some ways I grew up feeling like I did know her. I was grateful to him for giving me that in my life. At times it made me feel like I didn't miss out on something because I didn't have a mother.
We spent a lot of time together while I grew up. He went to all the sporting events that I got involed with and helped me practice with anything that I had a problem with, I guess I was lucky that I had a father that was as naturally gifted at athletics as I was. I'd say that I inhereted his good genes when it came to sports. It seemed that no matter what sport I attempted to play I did well in. Some better than others, but at least I could play any that I tried. I loved baseball the most and from time to time I would make some time to go to the local batting cages just to have some fun and to do something different than going to the gym for my workout. It was at the batting cages that I first laid eyes on Mark Edward Ambers.
Mark stood about five feet ten inches tall. I wouldn't say tall anyways, but he was built solid for a guy his size. I'd consider him a little overweight but not by much, I thought he could stand to lose about ten to fifteen pounds but who was I to pass judgement? Perhaps he was totally happy with the way he was and wasn't interested in losing any weight. But he was handsome, god was he good looking. With the type of face that you don't forget.
Without the weight he could have easily been a model on the cover of a magazine, at least in my humble opinion. As far as I was concerned my opinion was the only thing that mattered at that moment. Now came the big question, was he gay? So of course my next thought was how was I going to introduce myself to him, or find out who he was and how'd I go about meeting up with him. I kept hitting away and watching him out of the corner of my eye. He was getting into the cage that was three down from the one that I was in. I decided to pretend I was taking a break from hitting and was just stretching myself out. But I found myself not being able to take my eyes off of him.
He caught me starring at him the first second and third time he looked my way. I had to start hitting the ball or there would have been a fourth time catching me starring. And then I couldn't concentrate on hitting the ball, I was missing more than I was hitting. I finally gave up trying to pretend I was into what I was doing and decided to leave. I packed up my stuff and headed to the office to check out and see if I could find anything out about the guy in cage number seven. I had to smile and thought to myself that maybe the number was a sign that it was lucky and that maybe I'd get lucky to.
I could hope anyway, there was nothing wrong with that.
I didn't know the kid at the desk that well, I didn't come here enough to be considered a regular. I was thinking on my feet as fast as I could to come up with something that I could start asking questions without sounding like I was either desperate, some kind of stalker, or worse yet some kind of pervert which at the moment that's exactly how I felt about myself. I wondered around the clubhouse for a few minutes pretending to check out some of the bats and other equipment that they sold there. After wondering around for a few minutes I decided that I couldn't think of anything to say to the kid to get information so I thought maybe honesty was the best policy. What was the worst that could happen? Okay so I could get beat within an inch of my life if he thought I was a pervert. But that wasn't going to happen, I could run faster than him, at least if I only considered leg lenght, I figured I could outrun him at least if push came to shove. I took a deep breath, gathered my courage and headed to the desk. I kept asking myself, how fast do you think you can really run? Especailly considering that the kid that worked that was at the most in his early twenties.
"I know this might sound a little crazy and I assure you I'm not, but do you know anything about the guy in cage number seven?" There was a moment of complete silence as he looked at me weighing out the decesion as to whether he should say anything to me at all. I began to feel like perhaps I was crazy to have come up with the thought that honesty was the best policy. What in the hell was I thinking. The time seemed to just drag out without anything being said.
"Maybe I was wrong to ask anything, I don't want to put you on the spot or tell me something that you're not supposed to. I guess I'll just leave and figure out another way to find out about him." The kid sort of smiled at me and I knew he had figured out what I was up to and what the score was. I'm not sure how he came to that conclusion because I certainly didn't think he was gay, not unless my gaydar was completely off base with him.
"I don't know that much about him to be honest with you Doc, he's been coming in the past couple of weeks on a regular basis. He's here around this time almost every other day. He makes a reservation when he leaves here for the next time but just signs in and out as Mark. He's a good hitter I've watched him a few times when it's slow and I have nothing better to do." I couldn't help but wonder how he knew how I was a doctor, I couldn't remember having seen him in the ER but you never know. It might be a small town hospital but I still saw my share of patients while working there.
"Mind if I ask how you knew I was a doctor, umh, I'm sorry but what's your name?"
"The name is Jeff and I'm sure you don't remember me, it's been a few years since you treated me in the emergency room. I was two years younger and I've lost a few pounds since then. But at the time I had ridden my bike off a ramp and ended up breaking my right arm and my left leg." As soon as he told me about the breaks I remembered him, you don't forget things like two broken limbs on a kid when you see it.
"I remember now, wow how much weight have you lost, you don't look anything like the kid that had few broken limbs?"
"I've lost fifty three pounds since that happened, I got tired of being the butt of jokes at school and I just stopped eating junk food all the time and started running instead of riding my bike and sitting on the couch all the time playing video games. I've taken up running on a regular basis and I don't play as much video as I used to. And I stay away from as much junk food as possible, I still give into temptation now and then but not nearly as much as I used to. I feel better about myself now and the kids don't bust my chops anymore."
"Good for you, I know from being a doctor how hard it is to lose weight, it's even harder for kids to do it I think. Keep up the running you look good." I meant it he did look good. I wish more of my younger patients would get themselves into shape, but everyone has to figure that out for themselves.
"Well Jeff if I may be so bold but would you do me a favor and see what you can find about Mark for me? Just a full name would be great, anything other than that would be better, say perhaps which team he plays for?" I could tell by the look on his face that he knew exactly what I meant by the question I had asked him.
"Will do Doc, come by next week this time and I'll do some digging and see what I can find out for you."
"Thanks Jeff I appreciate that I really do. I'll see you next week this time. If I end up working for some reason I'll be in the day after, how many days do you work?"
"I'm here Tuesday through Saturday this same time, so any one of those days you'll find me here, doing my time." We both laughed regarding his job description. But it was a good job for a kid his age. I bid him farewell and looked forward to coming back to the batting cages next week.
I thought about him off and on all week reminding myself the entire time that the possibility of him even being gay was remote. I didn't want to build myself up to find out that he wasn't. Then where would I be? Up the perverbail creek without a paddle and frustrated that nothing could or would happen. I bit my tongue and tried to remain hopeful in pursurt of Mark the mystery man. I imagined all kinds of things, what he was like, how he might be in bed, what he did for a living. I played out so many thoughts of what if's that I began to think that if was a bad word. It ended up taking two weeks before I was able to get back to the batting cages. And of course the day I go Jeff wasn't standing behind the desk in the clubhouse. Another kid about the same age as Jeff was standing there taking my cash. My heart sank because the first thought I had was that Jeff was no longer working at the batting cages. What was I supposed to do now? I payed for my basket of balls and hit the cage. I couldn't hit worth shit. Either I missed completely or I has fouling to the left or right. After twenty minutes I think I counted two hits that were worth anything. I was miserable the whole time thinking that I might have to play the game of coming back for a few days in a row hoping to catch Mark being here at the same time I was. After a half hour I was worn out and sweating and just wanted to go home and try not to be depressed about missing Jeff. I gathered up my gear and headed back to the clubhouse.
"Hey Doc you weren't hitting those balls the way you usually do today, having a bad day?" I immediately felt better when I heard Jeff's familiar voice bellowing across the clubhouse walls.
"No I wasn't hitting them like I should today. Let's just say that my heart wasn't in it." I wasn't lying I had thought that Jeff was gone and my hopes of finding out anything about Mark had gone along with him. After two weeks on wondering woulnd't you be disappointed if you thought your chances had been shattered? I bet you would be, there's no way around it. I wasn't going to waste anytime waiting for Jeff to spill anything he knew.
"So Jeff, did you find out anything about the mysterious Mr. Mark for me?"
He smiled a little and cocked his head to the side, making me wonder what exactly he was thinking at the moment. He was savoring the moment of knowing something that I didn't. Like a detective that had found an important clue in a murder case that no one else knew at the moment but him. I guess I couldn't blame him, I'd be doing the same thing if I were in his shoes. Jeff finally had to let the cat out of the bag.
"His name is Mark Ambers Doc." And with that he fell silent, I was hoping that he had somehow discovered more but I guess I was lucky that he had found out his name at least.
"Is that all you found out or are you holding back on me Jeff?" I was still hanging onto the possibility that he did know more. His smile gave him away, he did know more than just his name.
"Is it going to cost me money to find out the rest or are you going to help a guy out and be kind enough to just tell me what you know?" He just kept up the sly smile for a few seconds.
"Gee I never thought I could profit from the information. How much would it be worth?" Now he was playing with me and I could tell. At least the kid had a sense of humor.
"Gee the next time you come into the emergency room and are in pain I'll have to remember this good deed you're doing for me. Or perhaps I'll forget what pain medication are at that moment in time." We both laughed knowing that neither of us intended to carry out our idol threats.
"Well as I said his name is Mark Ambers, he's not married or dating at the moment. I think he plays for the same team you do, but I'm not one hundred percent sure of that. It's something you're going to have to find out for yourself as far as that's concerned. I can also tell you that he works for himself as some kind of consultant. He had started to tell me but the place got busy and I wasn't able to find out much more than what I've told you already. His next scheduled time is the day after tomorrow and he'll be here at four thirty on the dot. The one thing I can tell you is that when he says he'll be here from four thirty until five o'clock, he's not kidding with you. It will be exactly that when all is said and done." At least I knew more than I did before about him, I just wanted to find out more. Guess I was just going to have to gather my courage and put my best foot forward and see what happens between the two of us. I was hoping that I could be at the batting cage the next time he was going to be there.
"Jeff, lets say we get a cage reserved for me right next to his the day after tomorrow?" Jeff was pulling out the log book to make the reservation.
This kid was on his toes I had to hand it to him. I guess I was going to have to be good and give him a tip for doing me the favor that I had asked of him, besides a tip might prove to be useful in gathering more information about Mark. Jeff wasn't slow and was quick to understand the big picture. I liked Jeff and the more I got to know him the more I began to realize how much of a people person he was. It would take him places in life, knowing people and understanding them helped in so many ways in business. I could see him owning his own business someday.
"You got it Doc, four thirty the day after tomorrow, cage number six. Mark always requests number seven. I think it's a superstitious thing with him.
And if you get here a few minutes early you'll see him go through a ritual that he does everytime he comes to the cage. I promise you won't be disappointed when you see him get started." I had to wonder what could be that strange. Lots of guys had little rituals they did before exercising or working out. I had a habit of sitting in the dressing room and just relaxing for a few moments, trying to clear my thoughts from my head and forget the rest of the world. I wanted to enjoy myself when I did my workout and taking those few moments everytime was just something I had gotten into the habit of doing. I don't know that I'd call it a ritual but I took those few moments everytime that I was going to workout at the gym. I'm not sure but I didn't take the time when I came to hit a few baseballs, I would just jump into hitting the balls as hard and as far as I could. I left the clubhouse knowing I'd be back in two days. Now I just had to think of what I was going to say to Mark when I was standing in the cage next to his. I had knots in my stomach just thinking about it. I'd think of something by then, at least that's what I kept telling myself. Maybe I would talk to my friend Dennis and see what he had for a recommendation. He had a tendancy to be "out there"
when it came to one liners and getting to know someone for the first time.
It amazed me sometimes when he walked into a place and started talking to someone he didn't know or had ever laid eyes on. I knew his idea was that just keep talking to anyone that would give him two minutes. But he had a track record to show that his method worked. Perhaps I should just start talking to Mark and see what happens. With my luck I'd stick my foot in my mouth within thirty seconds of opening it.
I called Dennis but could only leave a message. He was out of town and wouldn't be back in time to help me with a suggestion. There went that idea of help out the window, I was on my own and had to think of something myself.
I kept telling myself that I was a man I could think on my own two feet, something would come to mind. Yeah, right all I could see was Mark laughing in my face as I inserted my foot in my mouth right in front of him. I hated being so self-conscious sometimes. I just kept thinking that I would think of something that didn't sound stupid, I just needed a minute or two of his time and I know I'd be able to tell whether or not he was gay number one and then I'd just have to go from there. I'm thinking talking baseball would be a good ice breaker, maybe complimenting him on the way he hits the ball would be a good way to break the ice. That was my angle, baseball and the way he hits, I'd just ask for some pointers from someone better than me, at least I'd tell him that. Oh, to play the non-hitter would be easy for me.
My date with destiny was at hand and I felt like I wanted to throw up everything I had eaten yesterday. I took a deep breath and got out of the car.
Retrieving my gear out of the trunk of the car, I looked around and towards cage number seven and no sign of Mark. Oh great today for whatever reason he'll be a no show. I really wanted him here before me, I wanted to watch him hit the ball and then talk to him about the way I hit if I got the right signals. I walked towards the clubhouse and Mark walks out towards his cage. Oh yea, the planets were beginning to align for me. My future was at hand and all I had to do was not stick my foot in my mouth before I got anywhere with him. I checked in with Jeff and gave Mark time to start hitting a few before I went to my reserved cage. He was swinging away by the time I got there. Thank God for small miracles.
I stood back a little and started my little scheme of watching him and he took notice right away.
"Any reason why you're watching me, or is it my ass that your checking out?" I couldn't think and my tongue felt like the Sahara had just settled in.
That on top of my brain going into a major cramp of blankness. All I could do was stand there like an idiot and look at him. My worst fear was coming to fuition I couldn't speak and my foot was beginning to fit really nicely.
"No really, which one was it? The batting or the ass, it had to be one of them Dr. Stratmore?" Not only was I completely stupid at that moment but now he knew my name and that I was a doctor. I know if I had treated him at the hospital I would have remembered him. He was too good looking to forget, at least in my eyes. Somehow, from somewhere I finally found my voice.
"I'm sorry but how do you know my name? I don't remember meeting you or treating you ever so I'm kind of at a loss at the moment." And I was, I had no clue how he knew my name.
"Two can play the game Doc." That was all he said and I stood there not sure what he had meant. It finally dawned on me, he had spoken to Jeff the same as I had and Jeff played matchmaker, I wonder who tipped the kid more, it must have been Mark. It was the only thing I could think of.
"You have me at a disadvantage, the only thing I know about you is your name is Mark, beyond that I don't know anything except you hit a mean ball out there when you focus on it."
"Thanks, I try to hit more than I miss and some days are better than others you don't do to bad yourself." So he had watched me at one point. I'm glad he broke the ice first my line of wanting to hit better would have made me look like a jerk that's for sure.
"Glad I didn't ask for tips, you probably would have thought I was some kind of idiot."
"No, not an idiot just I would have had to wonder for a few but since I'm sure we're both on the same team I would have surmised that I was being hit on. That sound about right?"
"I have to say guilty as charged." I could feel my face turning about twenty shades of red. We both laughed and I felt better that we had at least broken the ice and I didn't have to be so self-conscious about myself this time. I was on ground that made me a little more confident with things.
"Let's say you get into that cage and hit some out there with me? We can talk some more while we're hitting a few. You've paid for the time just like I have let's not waste it. Nothing I hate more than wasting money." I stepped into my cage and got myself set up and started swinging. Nothing was said for a few minutes and I was beginning to wonder what I should say or ask next. He beat me to the punch again.
"So Doc you didn't answer the question yet, which one where you watching?"
He had a smile on his face as I looked over at him, he was making squirm and he knew it.
"Both." I missed the next ball that came at me. I could feel my face turn about three hundred shades of red.
"Red becomes you handsome." I didn't just miss the next one, I missed the next six that came out of the machine. He was enjoying this and I knew he was. I couldn't think straight. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, I was the one that was supposed to talk to him. He was beating me hitting and he was definately keeping me off balance with the conversation that was going on. I had to stop for a minute and try and catch my breath so that I could get a handle on things before he had me babbling like a jerk.
"All right so what exactly did Jeff tell you about me since you seem so sure of yourself?" He laughed.
"I'm not so sure about being so sure of myself and Jeff only told me that you were a Doctor at the local hospital and that you were having him try to find out what he could about me. So I asked him what you had tipped you and I told him I'd give him more for the same information. With that in hand I knew you were interested in me so that made me interested more in you. I had seen you here, just like you've seen me and I was trying to think of a way to meet you. When I talked to Jeff it just fell into place. He told me that you reserved the cage next to me for today and so I just waited for you to show up today. And I think that brings us to where we are the next question is where do we go from here?" I had to give to him, he was to the point and didn't beat around the bush.
"How about dinner? We could at least do that."
"You're on, how about the day after tomorrow say six o'clock? And it's up to you I can either pick you up or you can meet me at oh lets see perhaps The Gondola if your into Italian?" He didn't waste any time I liked him already.
"Italian is fine and picking me works for me."
"Let's finish up our time here and we'll discuss the details after that. I need to get my workout in or I'll hate myself when I leave here."
"Works for me." We made some small talk during that half hour we were there hitting. It didn't seem to be that long and the time was up. We both picked up our bats and made for the clubhouse. I wanted to raze Jeff about playing both sides and profiting from both of us. Mark had agreed that he played us both pretty well. Into the clubhouse we went.
"Hey Jeff, how goes the matchmaker these days?" I was delighted to see his face turn red knowing that he was caught.
"Well it seems to have worked out didn't it?" I had to smile he was right it had worked out to what I was hoping for.
"And to think when I gave you that tip I was thinking that perhaps you deserved some more for helping me out and here you were collecting from the both of us and getting paid." Mark was trying to not laugh as I talked to Jeff. It was fun to watch Jeff squirm a little. But I gave up finally and admitted that I would have done the same thing he had done if I had been in his shoes. Hey, a rolling stone gathers no moss.
Mark and I made our plans outside the clubhouse, he would pick me up for dinner. I got into my car and took a deep breath and left out a little chuckle over the whole situation. For everything I had thought would happen, or could happen when I met him nothing had prepared me for him talking to me first. Good thing that he had I didn't have to do any fishing when I got to him. I also realized when I pulled away that I hadn't gotten to know anything about him really. Dinner would prove to be interesting.