Battles and Ball Games

"Hey, aren't the Tigers playing?" Jake asked as he was tapping a wedge into the seam of an a flywheel housing. Bridget returned to her work on the muscle car as Doug cleaned up her sketch into a working blueprint. She flashed a smile at Michael, who was fidgeting with the radio antenna and scanning the stations.

"Don't they have the game on? C'mon!" he said, banging it on the side until the static stopped popping."...fffshhhhhhh...reports.....ffshhh....surprise attack against the Red Army Black Sea Fleet in the strategic port city of Sevastopol has marked a grim milestone for the Soviets; bringing their total casualties up to a staggering 75 million since the War began. Foreign correspondent Wayne Caspari was wounded in the attack, describing it as an underwater tactical nuclear-tipped torpedo strike that destroyed six Soviet frigates and damaged several more beyond operational capacity before a conventional carpet bombing run by the Luftwaffe. Secretary of War Thomas Gates has called the attack "a concerning shift in our estimations of Berlinstadt military might, and interest, in the region." He declined to comment if the US would be sending troops to assist....fffshhhh...*click* fffshhh..."won't be the only wiener your wife gets today at the supermarket, but we promise it'll be the biggest!...*click* ....."fffshhh...down three runs at the bottom of the 8th as two-time all star Billy Freehan comes up to bat. Romano calls for a fast ball, and Peters nods. Here we go...*thwack*...foul ball. 0 and 1 for the all-star."

"Can you turn it back WMPQ for a minute? I have family in Ireland, you know." Bridget said, her brow furrowed.

"So what's Sevas..Sevapots...Seva-whateva' have to do with Ireland?" he asked, visibly annoyed with her. She glanced over at him, shaking her head. One thing she learned very quickly about American citizens was that they had no concept of European geography that wasn't spoon-fed to them by the newsreel illustrations. If Sevastopol fell, it would cut off a major port for the Soviet naval blockade that had kept the Stadti navy tied up in the region and unable to pass through to the Mediterranean to bolster their greater Atlantic fleet. Without it, the Stadt couldn't hope to punch through the British navy; who had some of the finest Naval Brass in the war. She let it go, and returned her attention to the timing belt.

"Here's the pitch...*TWACK!* "...line drive...he really got behind that one....and its going...going...Voss hits his boosters at the 500 yard mark...and it's gone! Billy Freehan has knocked it out of the park! Score is now 8 to 6, White Sox still in the lead!," the sportscaster said. Jake smacked his hands together and grinned. Bridget already knew he was a Tigers fan, so wasn't surprised.

Bridget torqued the tensioner pulley bolt to its new setting as her final act before she slowly removed herself from the engine, her arms streaked with grease and grime. She looked at the wall clock, seeing it was only 30 minutes or so till the air horn would blow and signal the end of her grueling shift. She set her wrench down and fished out a cigarette from her vest pocket, popped it in her mouth, and walked back over to Doug's table. He had turned her little sketch into a full-sized blueprint.

"Wow..."she said, genuinely surprised at the aggressive elegance of the design. He looked up, grinning. She traced the lines of the thin, dual exhaust pipes which he had redesigned so they now curved over her hip bones and were now perforated rather than a solid pipe. The blueprint place the .1cc two-stroke diesel micro engine directly under the internal sex piston, and housed the entire affair in rubber coating to reduce, but not eliminate, thermal radiation. The effect would be that whoever was wearing it would feel the warmth grow as they used it, but not so much it burned them.

He'd actually found a way to make the thing cum as well by utilizing pressure switches that ran along the piston housing. As whoever was wearing it started to tighten up with orgasm, it'd activate the switch that started to build up pneumatic pressure until the final pressure switch, the hardest one to engage, triggered the release valve; sending a high pressure tube of cum out of the rubber ringed tip of the smooth, slightly curved chrome shaft. "This should make it fully P.R.A compliant."

"Doug...you're a genius!" she said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. He grinned a goofy grin, holding the blueprint up. He was proud of his work. He gave her a quick pat on the ass as she returned to her workbench to straighten everything up for the night.

"...seems to be some argument going on with the Umpire. McAulliffe, the Tigers leader in home runs, seems to be having an issue with his batting prosthetic in the on-deck circle. Oh boy, the Umpire is checking the pressure gauges on the elbow actuator. He's gone! McAulliffe has been ejected from the game! This crowd is NOT happy with this decision by the umpire. McAulliffe has already went 2-0 in his at-bats today with a single in the 1st and that bases-clearing triple in the 4th." The radio said.

"What! No!" Jake grunted in frustration, tossing his hammer to the work bench. "Just when we were about to win. I can't believe it!" Bridget gingerly touched her exposed pussy, felt confident that she could take whatever Jake could dish out at this point, and walked over to him. She had 15 minutes to kill before the end of her shift anyway. Jake was a younger guy, and if he hadn't have had some rather mean older brothers would have probably ended up a Square. As is, he ended up being a tough guy with a kind heart. He was in decent shape but could stand to do some actual exercise rather than just what muscle he'd built on the job.

"Need to release some tension, Jake?" she asked, bumping him with her hip and grinning. He looked up, and sighed.

"How can you expect me to get an erection in trying times like these!" he said, holding his hands out pleadingly to the radio. "Stupid hometown Umpire says he was kicking out an illegal amount of horsepower on his batting arm! Can you believe it!" She shrugged her shoulders, and left him to his game. It amazed her that some people got so worked up about sports when the greatest, most brutal team sport this world had ever seen raged across the globe. Of course, the difference was that all games eventually end. There is a winner and a loser, and you have to adjust as the chips fall where they may. The war, on the other hand, seemed eternal...

Ten minutes later, the air horn blew, Bridget and the guys filed out, and she hopped on her bike. She waved to everyone as they filtered into their personal vehicles or up to the train platform while she sat on the leather seat and relaxed. Tomorrow was her off day. She had to decide whether to stay up and do something fun, or just head home and get some much needed rest. "One way or another, I need a bath." she thought to herself as she pulled out onto the road, racing against the dying light to get out of Ratchettown.