He stared at the pitcher’s hands, and as he gripped the bat, he thought of her wrists and their slender compliance; he knew she was behind him, watching with hope.  He stared at the pitcher, and crouched to swing; it made his legs feel taut, and he thought of them resting between hers.  His lower back felt tired, and there was a little twinge in his groin.  He watched the pitcher prepare to wind up, and he breathed a shallow sigh – as it was all he had time for – and recalled her arms around…