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Super

By: CharlieB4



Hi All

This was supposed to be a quick story but the characters in the story took me a bit further than I expected. Perhaps could have been put in romance but it does have a loving wife. 

Unlike most of my stories in this category there is no cheating but there are still sex scenes. All participants in the sex scenes are eighteen or over.

Massive thanks to Siren Capts for her hard work polishing my very rough work. I had to re work a couple of bits after the editing so any mistakes are my own.

As always if you enjoy or if you don't please leave a comment.

Sorry the story was withdrawn before because of an editing mistake. I have removed the offending sentence.

Cheers

CharlieB4

Australian slang for the uninitiated.

Ute: a pickup

Swag: Bed roll

Thongs: Flip flops

Super.

Most people look forward to their wedding night. Not me. It would be the moment of truth, and I was dreading it.

"Special night tonight James!" my best man teased me. He knew my bride was a virgin.

Dating a girl saving herself until she was married had been a good idea, it had taken the pressure off. Now, the speeches and the bridal waltz were over. The reception centre staff were clearing the tables. Older guests were sitting down, looking at their watches wondering when we were going to leave.

To understand my panic, you have to go back to when I was younger.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

I had always been a good swimmer. Dad taught me early and I just took to it. By the end of primary school I was the state under-12-years 100m champion in freestyle and butterfly. My prowess at swimming got me a scholarship to an exclusive private boarding school in Sydney. They weren't allowed to give sporting scholarships so it was called a disadvantaged child bursary. However, if I hadn't been a good swimmer I don't think I would have been considered disadvantaged.

Leaving home was hard; my parents had fought about me going. Mum said I was too young, Dad said it was a great opportunity. The school had produced three Olympic swimmers. Even with the scholarship it was a stretch for my parents. It paid for the boarding and education costs, close to forty-five thousand dollars. The uniform, books, excursions, etc. were all my parents' responsibility, and I had four other siblings to think about.

Dad had to led mum away crying the day they dropped me off. I enjoyed boarding school at first, being a good sportsman helped. I won every swimming race I went in for the first two years, I was okay at athletics and one of the better rugby players in my age group. However as my time at school continued I ran into problems, well one problems really. Puberty proved elusive for me.

In my fourth year of high school and approaching my sixteenth birthday I had only one pubic hair. If I was living at home it would have been bad enough but in communal showers and bedroom dormitories there was no where to hide. Also due to my peers growing taller and stronger my sporting prowess waned.

The up shot of this was a lot of bullying. The artificial environment of the all boys school can be a lot like the book The Lord of The Flies sometimes. The weaker individual is singled out and ostracized with the hope that they leave. I found myself on the wrong end of some ugly pranks and even physical abuse. I had been part of the mob mentality earlier in my school life and had seen four boys leave our dormitory. Now the boot was on the other foot and I got a taste of the medicine I had helped dish out. 

To cope I threw myself into my studies, befriending a couple of other smart guys who had endured this behavior for most of their school life. The school reviewed my scholarship, no doubt because my swimming wasn't progressing as they hoped. However my improved academic record saved me. 

Then it finally happened, in the last four months of that year and over the six week summer holidays puberty arrived. It might have been slow coming but it hit like a freight train. I grew up fast, growing taller and filling out. Over the summer holidays I worked for a local builder as a "gofor",' go for this and go for that. I carted a lot of bricks, made up cement mortar and actually developed some muscles. Mum commented on how quick I was growing out of my clothes.

Of course the other thing that grew was my penis, despite my late blooming I hadn't been tiny before but I was a lot bigger now. Back at school in year eleven my swimming picked up to. I got three seconds and one first at the boarding school carnival, my new strength coupled with my knowledge of technique proving successful. The swim coach put me back on the school team and by the time we had the full school carnival I won the senior boy champion. 

It was in the change room after a rugby game in the winter of that year that my new nickname was first made up. A player sitting on the bench near where I was toweling off after a shower made a comment.

"Holy shit James, you could be a porn star with a cock like that!"

I went beetroot red, so noticing my discomfort they continued on thinking up new names for me. First it was John, short for John Holmes, then tripod then snake. Finally they settled for the more obvious superdick, which was shortened to super to make it more palatable for general use around the school. I was embarrassed but I was no longer the subject of the malicious intent of the previous years.

For the rest of the year I continued to grow and develop finishing the year a little over six feet. With the aid of a specific weights program designed for swimmers I developed broad shoulders that tapered down narrow waist and muscular legs. My times in the pool continued to improve and I once again was in the top ten for the state. Such was the turn around in my school social life I was elected as one of the prefects in my final year at school.

I confided to my Dad about my increased penis size while training in the summer holidays. When I put my speedo's on it was hard to arrange my bits and pieces so they didn't attract attention. He laughed at first and I got more embarrassed. Seeing I was hurt he asked me to show him. When I did he let out a low whistle.

"That's quite a problem you have there my boy," he had said with a chuckle.

He bought me some of the longer legged swimmers like some of the elite swimmers wear. Then we worked out if I placed my penis against the inside of my leg it didn't make such a big bulge. 

Unfortunately, at the carnival the new swimmers made me look different and the boys picked up on my embarrassment. The students announcing the swimmers onto the block began calling me 'Super James in his custom made Super swimmers'. The guys from my boarding house made up a chant.

"Sup...Sup...Sup...Sup...Sup...Sup...Sup...SuperJames. "

It would start quietly and get gradually louder until they yelled the last bit. Every now and then they replaced the James at the end with dick. Even some of the teachers were smirking.

After the carnival, our new swim coach, a woman named Lisa Harmony, finally arrived. She was thirty, had been to two Commonwealth games for individual events and one Olympics in a relay. The other thing about her, she was hot. Tall, blonde, pretty, and fit. Small breasted, but there are not too many elite swimmers with "anchors" on their chests.

I was part of a training squad that did laps every morning and evening. Lisa was in charge of the squad and would be there every morning supervising warm ups, setting tasks for the day, and timing us to evaluate our progress. As I had been teased so much, I started wearing baggy board shorts over my swimmers to hide my toolkit.

After the second week Lisa asked me if she could have a talk after training. I guessed what it might have been about as my times had been a little down over last year. I tried to sneak out but she saw me and called me back.

"James, I just want to see if there is something bothering you. Your times are a little below last year. It's not what I would have expected given the physical assessments we did last week show you are bigger and fitter than last year. Do you think those baggy shorts could be slowing you down?"

"Maybe, I've felt a little off this week. I might be getting a cold," I replied, hoping that excuse would work.

"Perhaps you could just do a lap without the shorts to see." 

She didn't fall for it.

I tried a different tack,"I've got an early class this morning. I don't want to be late." 

"I'll give you a note. Come on, get them off and get up there!" Lisa wasn't taking no for an answer.

I went to the blocks and, turning away from her, I dropped my shorts and had a quick go at arranging myself. I only had Speedos on, having left my longer swimmers in my locker. Getting up on the blocks I assumed the racing crouch for my start, which hid my bulge.

On Lisa's whistle I hustled down the pool and back. Looking up after I finished, Lisa was smiling.

"That's better!" she said, writing the time down on her clipboard. "That's the boy wonder I've heard so much about. Tomorrow I want you to work on stretching your left arm to its full extent before you pull back. I think you're coming up short."

"Okay," I replied, dawdling in the pool. I was waiting for her to move away before I got out.

"Out you get! I want to show you," she ordered.

I got out reluctantly, turning my body a little to protect my modesty.

"Now, turn to the side and bend at the waist. That's it. Now pretend you are swimming."

She moved closer, reaching out and grabbing my left hand, pulling it until the elbow straightened.

"Wait." She moved to my right side. "Now just work that left arm, something doesn't seem right back at the shoulder."

She was standing very close. Her thighs rubbed against my hip and her hands were on my back. I could smell her perfume and I was starting to get wood.

"No, that's okay, I'll have another look tomorrow. Stand up."

As I did my boner poked out the top of my costume.

"Sweet Mary mother of God!" Lisa gasped. "Damn! I can see why you wear baggy shorts."

My face had gone past red and was heading to puce.

"Quick, hit the showers, and you had better make it a cold one."

I took off and was glad that she was gone when I came out.

The next day I was a very reluctant trainer. I fiddled around in the change area until Lisa sent someone in to get me out. When I got through the door she was waiting for me.

"James, I just want to have a talk to you about yesterday. What I said was not very professional and I apologize. You can continue to train in board shorts, however you can't swim in them for competition. Also, I will ask you to stay behind occasionally to swim without them so I can get a better idea of where you're at."

"Okay, thanks Miss."

"I'll try to help you protect your modesty, but sometimes that will not be possible and you will just have to grin and bear it."

"Yes, Miss."

"Right, into the pool with you. I want one kilometer done before you finish, and remember: stretch that left arm out."

Lisa was as good as her word. She decided we needed a swim team uniform which consisted of baggy shorts, in school colors of course. And a polo shirt with the school crest. I would wear mine out onto the pool deck and strip off just before I got on the blocks. When I finished, Lisa would be close by with a towel.

In return, I swam my best times ever - beating my personal best by three quarters of a second and winning the one-hundred freestyle by a body length at the state titles. Unlike in the earlier age groups I had swum years before, open schoolboys were invited to swim in the national titles. A week after my eighteenth birthday I was selected to represent at the nationals in the 100m freestyle.

I was ecstatic and Lisa wasn't far behind. It was in two weeks and I expected her to work me like a dog. I was wrong. Sure, I still did some laps, practiced some turns and starts, but it wasn't as intense as before. Lisa spent a lot of time with me, watching tapes of my opponents at their respective state championships.

"It's called a taper," she explained. "You are already at peak fitness and really, with one meet left, it's time to freshen up. Also, you're a fast swimmer, but to be successful you have to learn how to race. Sometimes it's not just about being fast. Sometimes you have to know your opponents and their tactics."

As well as footage of my opponents, she showed me tapes of great swimmers. Murray Rose winning the 400m at the Rome Olympics in 1960, and Kieran Perkins winning the 1500m in Atlanta in 1996. Both had been below their best coming into the final, but with guts and determination, they had got gold.

"Sometimes being the best isn't enough. Sometimes you have just got to want it more."

The nationals were incredible. The best junior swimmers in Australia all together. That meant there were also the best coaches - the guy in charge of the Olympic team was there as well. The night before the competition started we all had dinner together. The Olympic coach was the guest speaker. We were told that the best ten swimmers would be invited to train with the Olympic team at the institute of sport at the end of the year. Now that's incentive.

I won my heat, but only just scraped through the quarter finals to make the semi's. Lisa admonished me for taking it too easy. I was up against the three fastest swimmers in the age group and I was just touched out into fourth place. The top three from each of the two semi finals were automatically into the final, then it was the next two fastest times. I got into the final as the seventh fastest qualifier.

The final was the next day, so we went back to our accommodation to rest. Most of the swimmers were staying at Canberra University student residences as the students were on holidays. At dinner in the cafeteria that night, I noticed some girls pointing at me and giggling. I tried to ignore it, but I had a fair idea what they were giggling about. Especially when they started speculating with their hands about my member's size. Going to an all boy school meant dealing with girls was new to me. I ate and ran. 

The next day I was a bundle of nerves. It wasn't helped when I arrived at the pool and had to walk past the same girls. Lisa noticed how tense I was and took me back outside.

"Do a couple of laps in the outside pool, we need to loosen you up."

I did but it didn't get rid of the butterflies. Lisa took me back inside and found an unoccupied training room.

"Get up on the table."

I did and she began to massage my legs. I'm sure that was the best thing to do for an elite athlete, but not for an adolescent boy.

"Roll over and I'll do your quads." 

"That's probably not a good idea." I replied.

"Come on, the race is in twenty minutes."

I rolled over and my shorts seams were straining to hold my rampant cock.

"Oh shit! I didn't think of that." Lisa checked her watch. "It's actually more like fifteen. Damn! Oh well."

Lisa went and locked the door, then put some more lotion on her hands. Extracting my cock from my pants, she began stroking it. I groaned.

"This is just between you and me, okay?"

"Yes, oh yes."

It didn't take long. According to my memory it was five minutes, but I'm sure in reality it was more like thirty seconds. Lisa had a spare towel over her shoulder to clean up the mess but I went off like a fire extinguisher. Some of it even hit her in the face.

"That ought to make it smaller for a bit. Get up and loosen up your arms and shoulders while I clean up."

I began windmilling my arms and stretching my shoulders. I looked across as Lisa checked the floor and the table for any cum spots she had missed. There was a glob on the collar of her shirt. She wiped it off with her finger. I looked away as she turned towards me and when I looked back that finger was in her mouth.

There was a knock on the door.

"Lisa? Are you in there?" It was the state team manager.

"Yes, just giving last minute instructions."

"Quickly, they are marshaling your race!"

We left the room and followed the manager to where the other swimmers were waiting. He shook my hand and wished me luck. Lisa put her arm around my shoulders and said quietly in my ear.

"Remember your tactics, you're in lane seven next to the third fastest qualifier. Stay on his shoulder, his wake will let you coast a little. With fifteen to go, give them hell!"

On the pool deck behind the blocks I forgot all about my modesty. I just wanted to get in that water and swim as fast as I could. On the blocks, I got into the zone, the starting beep sounded, and we were away. The simple race plan really helped. I wasn't straining to see what my other opponents were doing across the pool. I stayed on my neighbor's shoulder; he no doubt felt he had my measure. I was just waiting and hoping that he was up on the pace.

Half way down the second lap I felt great. I was tempted to go early but waited, concentrating on my stoke and kick, trying to keep them smooth. I knew how many strokes it took me to swim the fifty metres, so I had counted since the turn to know when to go with my finishing sprint. I sucked in a huge breath and went for it - increasing my stroke rate and urging my tired legs to give me some more. With seven metres to go I was just ahead of the guy in lane six and hoping for the best. 

I hit the wall hard, coming up and looking up at the scoreboard above me to see where I had come in. My name wasn't on top, but I was next. 

I looked around and spotted Lisa going nuts, jumping up and down.

"Look at the time! Look at the time!" she yelled.

I did, it was a personal best by one second. I got out whooping it up, jumped, skipped, and ran over to her to give her a hug. If someone hadn't seen the race they would have thought I'd won. She gave me her phone and I rang my parents; they had to work so couldn't be there to see it. As I was speaking to them I turned to the crowd of onlookers and saw they were laughing at something. Looking back towards the pool deck one of the competitors from the race was jumping around parodying my celebration. Except he had one arm hanging down between his legs and he flopped it about as he jumped. I had probably been disrespectful to my fellow swimmers in my celebration but his retribution was cruel.

I went really red and grabbed a towel from the seat next to Lisa's, wrapping it around my waist. Scurrying away to the change room, I locked myself in a toilet cubicle. After composing myself I went and had a shower. While I was getting changed, the guy who won the race came over and congratulated me on my swim. He also apologized for the other competitor's behavior. I said I was sorry for being a goose after I had finished.

I had got some of my confidence back and was hoping to slip out of the venue unnoticed but there was a medal presentation. The first three place takers walked out to a little podium where we were given medallions. It went well until we were doing a lap of honour around the pool and we came to the group of girls who had laughed at me the night before. They were standing in a loose semi circle with their backs to us, but as we got closer they turned around. They must have rolled up towels and placed them inside the legs of their track pants. They were killing themselves laughing! Bitches!

I rushed the remaining twenty metres around the pool then went straight back to the change rooms. Grabbing my bag, I left the stadium, telling Lisa on the way past I would wait in the car park.

"Don't you want to see the rest of the meet?" she asked.

"No! Please...can we just go?"

I don't think she wanted to, but she began gathering her things. Ten minutes later we were on the road back to school. It was two and a half hours to get back to Sydney from Canberra. As we zoomed up the Hume highway Lisa asked if I was hungry. I had been so worked up about things I hadn't eaten since breakfast six hours before. We stopped for fuel and grabbed some burgers and chips from a diner attached to the service station.


Super



"Let's go up the road a bit. I know a rest area just off the highway next to the Murrumbidgee river. We'll eat there." Lisa said.

The smell of the food in the car had me starving by the time we got to the park. I could have eaten the crotch out of a low flying duck. The park was deserted and we sat on a bench overlooking the river. I shoveled my food in and was finished well before Lisa. She dipped her last chip in tomato sauce and before putting it in her mouth, pointed at me.

"You need to grow a thicker skin!" 

"Yeah, right," I replied gruffly.

"Seriously! In a couple of years time those same girls will be lining up for a taste."

"It's okay for you. It's not you they're laughing at," I said with my head down.

"Come on!" She put her hand on my thigh. "Look on the bright side, at least it's under your clothes most of the time. It's not like you have a third eye or a big nose!" She was trying to be funny, but her proximity and her hand on my leg had other thoughts in my head.

My cock began to rise again. I expected her to pull away or say something, but she remained silent as my cock expanded close to her hand. She lifted one of her fingers and began gently caressing my cock head through my shorts. Lisa was actually looking at the water flowing past, and it was almost as if she didn't realize what she was doing. I groaned and she turned her head and looked at me.

"I'm sorry but I've got to get another look at you!" she whispered fiercely.

She slipped off the bench onto the grass in front of me and began pulling at my shorts and underwear. I lifted my hips, and she yanked them down; pulling them off my legs over my feet after I kicked off my thongs. Grasping the base of my shaft with one hand, she began stroking me. Seemingly mesmerized, her head kept moving closer until her lips were almost touching my engorged head.

"I want to taste it... No! I have to taste it!" she gasped before she opened her mouth and tried to fit my head in.

She did eventually, and a little bit of the shaft, while she continued stroking the rest. I had seen this in magazines and dreamt about it, but feeling it was something else entirely. I could feel my balls churning as my cum rushed to the tip.

"Oh...Ohhh...ohhhh..you had better stop...Ohhh... Miss... Miiiisssss!"

Lisa clamped her lips around the head and sucked, taking my load in her mouth and swallowing furiously. Even after I had finished, she continued licking, sucking, and stroking me. I stayed as hard as a rock.

"In for a penny, in for a pound!" Lisa said, standing and removing her track pants, skirt and undies.

"Swing around and lean back!" she ordered.

Frustrated at my not understanding her intentions, she grabbed my leg, lifting then pushing it to the other side of the bench so I was straddling it.

"Now lean back with your arms behind you for support."

I did as I was told. Lisa then swung her leg over me and began to squat down on my cock. Grabbing the shaft just below the head, she rubbed it along her sex. As she began getting wet she started putting more downwards pressure on my cock so it began stretching her pussy open.

"Holy fuck you're big! We are going to have to move."

Getting off me, she got me to lie on the grass. Looking around to make sure we were still alone, she undid her bra and pulled it off but left her shirt on. Getting down on top of me again, she positioned herself on my stomach. Reaching back to grab my dick, she shuffled back while positioning my head between her pussy lips. Once it was nestled there to her satisfaction, she let it go and leaned forward, supporting her weight on her hands beside my head.

"Lift up my shirt and play with my tits," she groaned, as she began rocking backwards and forwards.

I lightly stroked her breast but that wasn't enough.

"Suck me! Bite them!" She grabbed my head and pulled it to her chest.

I sucked and squeezed her tits as her rocking became more violent. My head and a couple of inches were inside her as she continued to strive for more. I began thrusting as well, feeling another orgasm just around the corner. Lisa was losing control, her movements erratic as she reached the halfway mark. Her nipples were hard as pebbles as I sucked them, my hands now on her butt - pulling it down, trying to get as deep as possible. Lisa stiffened.

"Yes! Oh fuck! Yeeesss!" she wailed, as she thrashed about on top of me.

I hadn't cum, so when she calmed down I gently rolled her onto her back and mounted her. She gasped as I pushed my cock back inside her. I was really close, so I started really pumping hard, probably impaling her with three quarters of my dick. Each time I got to the bottom of my stroke Lisa grunted an obscenity.

Soon enough I was there. "Ohhh yes I'm...Ohhh fuck!"

I was going to cum in a girl! Pregnancy suddenly popped into my brain and I was trying to pull out when Lisa legs and arms wrapped around me.

"I want to feel it! Hose me down!"

I gave her all I had left, then collapsed on top of her. She stroked my hair and kissed my shoulder and neck as I recovered my breath. My mind was reeling, I had got a hand job, a head job, and finally lost my virginity to Miss Harmony all in the one day. 

Looking back now, I am in two minds about Miss Harmony. One mind would fuck the arse off her again in a heartbeat. The other, well, she was a lot older than me and in a position of authority. I was over eighteen and loved every minute of it but it probably wasn't right.

Our affair continued for six months, until the end of that school year. I didn't keep in contact with her after I left.

My swimming career was curtailed later that year when I badly dislocated my shoulder making a tackle in rugby. They clicked it back, but the ligaments were so badly stretched that it kept popping out even when I rolled over in bed. I had to have surgery to "tie" it back in, and I lost the full and free movement of my shoulder. I could still swim fast but I wasn't in the elite class anymore.

Giving up sport meant I kept my "super" accessory under wraps, and the ribbing quieted down although the nickname stuck with me. Also with no sporting distractions,apart from Miss Harmony, I concentrated on study, getting into University to do engineering.

After we finished our leaving exams, there were a few parties organized for year twelve students to blow off steam. I met a girl, Jenny, at the first one of these and we hooked up again at the second one. Nothing serious, just some heavy petting. Three weeks later it was coming to the end of the holidays, and at the third and last big party I found myself alone with Jenny out in the car park. 

Unlike the other two times, we skipped the chatting and flirting, and jumped straight into swapping spit. So now we were both seriously worked up and we were moving to the ultimate end. We were in the back of my brother's ute in my swag. I had managed to get her top off and was playing with her breasts through her bra. Sliding my hand down further, I cupped her sex through her jeans. She groaned and pushed against my hand, grabbing my face and latching on to my lips again.

Taking one of her hands, I pushed it down to my crotch so she could reciprocate. She made a grab for my straining dick and then was suddenly pushing me away.

"What the fuck have you got in your pants?" she gasped.

Thinking she was giving me a compliment, I assured her. "Don't worry babe, it's all me!"

Her hand moved down again and she felt along my length. "Fucking hell! I didn't think they made them that big."

"It's alright, I'll go slow and take my time." I moved in to kiss her again.

"You can take all the time you want, but you are not sticking that thing anywhere near me!"

She was scrambling around in the dark, feeling for her shirt.

"Come on, you can't leave me like this!" I was getting a bit angry.

"Damn right I am. I want to look like something approaching a virgin on my wedding night. Christ! That thing would split me in two!"

Her shirt in hand, she jumped out of the ute and headed back to the party. I waited for my erection to subside then made my way back to the bar. This was to be the first night I found out what it was like to objectified. I learned that night to empathize with women with large breasts. 

It took a little while, but soon girls were walking past staring at my crotch. Jenny must have been quizzed by one of her friends as to why she was back at the party and explained about my appendage.

As the night got later and the alcohol began to kick in, I began to get a lot more attention. I was dragged onto the dance floor and girls took turns dancing and grinding into me. A couple even made a blatant grab for my cock. To be honest, I was hitting the rum pretty hard, so I wasn't complaining. When I had had my fill and the room started to move, I staggered my way back to my brother's ute.

Just as I got there I was intercepted by two equally drunk girls. One was chubby but cute, with big tits; the other short and skinny. Lucky Legs we had nicknamed her at the bar. Lucky they don't break off and stick up her arse.

"Heh handsome! Have you got room for a couple of cold girls in there?" Chubby asked, pointing to the back of the ute.

"Maybe we...we...could squeeze in." I slurred, holding onto the ute for support.

"That's what we're hoping for!" Lucky replied.

I pulled back the cover and clumsily unzipped the swag and the sleeping bag inside. As soon as I laid down the girls were on me like ants on a dropped lolly. Chubby was sucking my face and pushed my hands under her jersey to play with her tits. Lucky had my belt undone and pants down to my ankles in a flash. Grabbing my flaccid manhood, she began stroking it while sucking on its top.

Despite my intoxicated state, Lucky's talented mouth and hands soon had me on the rise. Chubby was getting worked up, so she stood up and dropped her pants, grabbing her smart phone before hanging them over the side. She straddled my head facing Lucky and lowered her steaming bush onto my face. I was busy attending to her needs when I heard the girls in conversation.

"Let's get a good look at this thing!" Chubby said. A light appeared, she must have activated her smart phone.

"Holy fuck, Kate!" At least I knew Lucky's name now. "It's fucking huge! Do you think that's as big as it gets?" Chubby asked.

"I don't think so, I reckon there still some free play in it yet. You take over on the head, my jaws getting sore, I'll lick his balls for a bit," Lucky replied.

With two mouths working on my cock, I was in heaven. If I hadn't consumed so much alcohol I doubt I could have stopped myself from cumming. Chubby was getting worked up, and she began pressing back against my tongue as I lapped at her pussy.

"Eat me you fucker!" she growled as she climaxed.

I was waiting for my turn, Chubby sat on my chest while Lucky kept stroking and licking my dick.

"Are you ready, Cindy?" Chubby inquired.

"Yep! I don't think there is any more stretch in it."

The phone lit up again and I should have twigged. There was the telltale click. Lucky stopped stroking and Chubby leaned down, placing her mouth on my dick. The phone lit up again, only this time Lucky had it. There was another click. After that the girls rolled away, Chubby began putting on her pants, and Lucky climbed over the tailgate.

"Where the fuck are you going?" I hissed.

"You don't think I'm going to let you fuck me with that club do you?"

"Can't you at least finish me off with your hand or something?" I begged.

"Sorry, we've got to get back and show the other girls!"

With that she jumped over the side, grabbing her phone off Lucky.

"How do they look?" Chubby asked.

"Great, we will definitely win tonight!"

"What? You took a picture of my cock? What for?" I was confused.

"Some of us girls are running a sweep about who can get a picture of the biggest dick here tonight. Only proviso is our face has to be in it to prove it's authentic. Don't worry, they don't show yours."

"Yeah, but I bet you tell them." I said angrily, as I sat up and pulled up my pants.

They walked away laughing. Fucking bitches. 

The next morning there was a recovery breakfast - bacon and eggs and what ever leftover alcohol was about. As I walked through debris of the night before to the food table, I noticed girls and boys checking their phones and sniggering and pointing. Chubby and Lucky had obviously been sharing 

It was good to get away to university, but my reputation caught up with me. At the university accommodation during orientation week there was the usual fun and games involving drinking. At one of the keg parties I was speaking to a lovely girl from a different part of the state when I heard some excited chatter behind us. Then the chant went up.

"Sup! Sup! Sup! Sup! Sup! Sup! SuperJames."

At least they didn't say superdick. I turned around to see two guys I went to school with. They weren't at the same residential college, but had come over when they had heard about the keg. They laughed and slapped me on the back, I introduced them to the girl I was talking to and we continued to chat. The last party before the end of holidays was brought up, and then of course, the pictures. These two guys had been overseas but they had still received the pictures via MMS. I tried to change the subject but had no success.

The girl I was speaking to wanted to know what all the fuss was about. One of my friends obliged.

"Get a look at this!" He was holding his phone out for her to look at.

"Bullshit! This is photo-shopped. No way could that be real," she said loudly - just as there was a lull in he conversations around us. People turned around to see who had made the statement.

"Yeah, you're right. It's obviously a fake," I said quickly, hoping to save the situation.

"No way, it's all human, and it's all my mate Jimmy here!" one of my "mates" said. "That's why he is called Super, short for superdick!"

The girl eyed me suspiciously then called one of her friends over.

"Holy shit!" her friend gasped. "Have you got a license to drive that thing?"

Everybody but me laughed, and more people came over to see what the commotion was. So, my reputation proceeded me for the rest of the year. A couple of the seniors from the college nailed a superman costume to my door with the S symbol on the chest covered by a crude drawing of a penis. I was a bit down about it when one of the seniors, who was also my tutor, dropped by.

"Hey man." He was a mature age student and had spent a lot of time sucking on a bong. "Don't be down about this. You are in a privileged position, dude. There are acres of young women out there eager to explore life and all it has to offer now they're away from home. Let go and be free man! Share yourself around! From what I hear you have plenty to share." He cracked up laughing before coughing up half a lung.

I took his advice and let go. I fucked a lot of girls that year. Every age, race, size and shape. I wasn't choosey. I slept with one, two, sometimes three, at a time. A mother and daughter, sisters, and even twins. The more I fucked, the more my reputation spread and the more offers I got. I even did my maths lecturer on the photocopier in her office.

I did enjoy most of it. I tried to use condoms all the time but sometimes they broke - an occupational hazard when you stretch them so much. Still, I didn't catch any STDs, which considering, was something of a miracle, but I did get a case of "crabs".

Of the girls I slept with, probably only ten percent took all of my dick with comfort. Some I got half way in, other screamed in pain with just the head. Hell, some took one look and ran away.

Through it all, I came to realize I was just a notch on their belts or a tick on their bucket list. Been fucked by a really big dick! Tick! Now what's next, have a meaningful relationship? Certainly not with that guy. 

I did go steady with a couple of girls for a little while. Maybe a month, but the constant stream of girls pursuing and wanting a taste of me wore them down.

At the end of the year my grades were okay, so I applied to move universities to one on the other side of the country in Perth. It was with much relief I started there the next year. I knew no one, and no one knew me. It was second year, so most of the rat bags had been weeded out, and those left were keen to study and get good grades. I still partied, but I mostly kept myself under wraps, so to speak - unless I was in a different crowd from my university friends. For the next three years I got through without hearing the name Super, except when I was home on holidays.

I got through my course just as the mining boom was in full swing in Western Australia. I paid my dues in the heat and dust of the Kimberly region, working on the construction of two giant iron ore mines. It was one month on, then seven days in Perth. From forty degrees celsius and seventy percent humidity to twenty eight and fifty. Hard work in the heat and then hard partying when we got to Perth. 

After two years of that I had a unit in Perth, money in the bank ,and a job offer from a company supplying the mining industry but based in Perth.

It was from a family engineering business that had ridden the boom. Going from a father, son, and two workers to a workforce of thirty full time and ten casuals. The son had wanted to diversify into transport so that they could take their own goods north, but Dad had said no. The son left and bought some trucks, so the company was short its engineer. 

I liked it right from the start. Good people who worked hard and got rewarded for it. With my experience at mine sites, I was able to refine some of the things they did and my boss, Tony, was very pleased. After working there for two months, he invited me to come to their place for lunch.

"Nothing fancy, just a BBQ on the back verandah," he had said.

I knew Cottesloe Beach was a ritzy address, but Tony's place was spectacular. Across the road from the beach, with sweeping views either side. I pressed the buzzer on the front gate and it opened for me to walk up the driveway of polished stones. Tony came out to greet me in his work shorts, singlet, and thongs. At least they were clean. I suppose you can take the working man out of his suburbs and into the high life, but it doesn't always change the man.

"Thanks for coming, mate." We shook hands. It seemed strangely formal as we saw each other at work most days and never shook hands.

"Come in, come in, and we will knock the top off a couple of cold ones." He led me towards the main door. "You're a bit late, I've been hanging to have a slurp all morning."

"I had trouble finding a park," I explained.

"Should have just rung the buzzer and parked in here on the driveway. Cost me fucking enough, got to get the most out of it," he said, pointing to the stones. "Sorry about the language."

It was one thing I was always curious about. Tony swore like a sailor but he always apologized after. He stopped me before I entered, and his next statement answered my unasked question.

"The wife is a bit, well, she doesn't like swearing and taking the lord's name in vain and shit like that. Oh, sorry! So just mind your Ps and Qs this afternoon, all right?"

"Yeah, sure," I replied.

I followed him into a marble tile foyer then up a staircase that led to a large open room with a balcony overlooking the beach. A woman in a light summer dress that appeared to be over a swimming costume was off to one side preparing a salad on a bench. We walked towards her.

"Shalia, this is our new engineer James," Tony said.

His wife turned around with a big welcoming smile on her face. She was a stunning woman of middle eastern appearance, olive complexion with large dark eyes, wide mouth with perfect white teeth, and an enthusiastic smile. Her shortish dark hair was styled close to her head. A gold chain around her neck suspended a simple gold cross above her cleavage. I was tempted to look further, but being the boss's wife, thought better of it. Keeping eye contact, I took her offered hand and shook it gently.




Super



"Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Darby," I said respectfully.

"Please, call me Shalia." 

"Righto, come on, Jimmie, let's go and get a beer before I die of fucking thirst."

Shalia's arm shot out like a snake biting its prey, clipping Tony behind the ear.

"Tony! You are not at work now!"

"Sorry, sorry dear, slip of the tongue," he said, keeping out of range.

"I'm sorry about that, James, but he tries my patience," she said to me with a smile. She turned back to Tony. "Can you get the BBQ started too, please."

"Certainly can," Tony replied warily.

"Good boy!" Shalia said, stepping over to him and kissing his cheek. "One day, you will learn."

"Maybe you should use the carrot and not the stick," Tony said, grabbing her around the waist, pulling her closer and kissing her on the lips.

"That's enough, you naughty boy," she replied, slapping his hand that was now rising up toward her breast. "We have visitors, you infidel!" she laughed as he let go.

It was lovely to see that family byplay. They were obviously still very much in love. I missed seeing my own family, being four thousand kilometres away on the east coast.

I was broken out of my melancholy by Tony poking me in the ribs with a cold beer.

"Come on out onto the balcony, we've got some cooking to do."

The pile of meat next to the BBQ told me I wasn't the only guest. By the time we had it cooked, there was Tony's son and his young family, Tony's brother with his wife, and two of the brother's sons with their families. It was the first time I had met Tony's son, Michael. I wasn't sure how it would go, seeing I had replaced him. I liked him immediately, and I think it was mutual. We sat down and ate, drank wine, and laughed. I was contemplating leaving, when Tony's daughter arrived.

"Wow." I said softly, I thought to myself, until Michael whispered.

"Put your tongue back in your head, you're drooling."

She had her mother's coloring, olive complexion and dark hair, except longer, and her dad's height, which stretched out the curves. She was wearing just jeans and a white t-shirt, but she looked liked she had stepped out of a glamour shoot. Tony jumped up and went to his daughter, giving her a hug. Looked like she was daddy's little girl. While they walked back to the table together, she was saying hi to her younger cousins as they buzzed around her legs.

Other members of the family were getting up and greeting her. I stayed seated, a little uncomfortable. Shalia spied me shifting in my seat and admonished her husband.

"Darling, we have a guest, introduce him!"

"Oh shit, sorry." He quickly ducked out of range of any of his wife's limbs, so I don't know whether the sorry was to me or his wife. The rest of the family laughed.

"Anisa, this is James. He is the new engineer at the company now your worthless brother has taken to riding the white lines," he said for the amusement of the gathering.

I stood and shook her offered hand gently. "Pleasure to meet you," I said rather inadequately.

She smiled shyly, and dropped her head.

"Anisa is the smart one of the family. She is four years into a medical degree. She was at the airport this morning organizing the transport of medical supplies to Somalia. She is going to work in one of the refugee camps for Medecins Sans Frontieres in her holidays."

"Stop bragging, Dad. That's Doctors Without Borders," she said, explaining Tony's excursion into French.

"Wow, that's great!" I replied - what a goose!

She moved on, sitting down next to Michael's wife. I sat back down, a trifle flustered.

"I think she likes you," Michael said, poking me in the ribs and laughing.

"Yeah sure!" I said sarcastically. "I was just so smooth!"

"No really, mum is always trying to set her up and get Anisa married. At least she smiled at you, most she won't give the time of day."

His mother must have overheard our conversation and said something in another language that I assumed was Arabic. Michael laughed but Anisa didn't.

"Muummm!" she groaned in exasperation. "I'll get a boyfriend when I'm ready!"

The party started to break up as little people got tired and cranky and parents took them home to bed. I was about to leave myself when Tony pulled me aside and out onto the balcony.

"Let's have a quick beer before you go, I want to talk to you about something."

"We can have a talk but don't worry about the beer; I have to drive home."

"Bullshit." He looked around to make sure he wasn't heard by anyone else then continued, "I'll get you a cab."

He went to a bar fridge near the BBQ and grabbed a couple of James Squires out, and we sat in the cool sea breeze.

"I just want to say thanks for the last two months. I was worried, losing Michael, but we got lucky with you. There are lots of qualified engineers out there, but it's rare to find one with as much practical experience and common sense as you," he said earnestly.

"Thanks, Tony, that means a lot to me. I'm really enjoying working for you."

"Great.. Great... Um. Your contract had a three month trial period, but we are going to finish that effective as of yesterday. On Monday, you are a permanent employee with an extra fifty thousand a year in your salary."

"Fantastic!" I was shocked and grateful. The salary package had been okay, but no where near as generous as the mining companies. This still wouldn't match them but I wasn't in the heat.

"All I need is for you to sign up for three years." 

So that's what today was about.

"No problem Tony, I like the company and your staff, and I love Perth!"

"Fucking great! Owww!" Tony hadn't seen Shalia walking up behind him.

"That's enough, gutter mouth!" she said, rubbing tenderly where she had just hit him.

"Will you stay for dinner, James?" Shalia smiled, and I desperately wanted to say yes but didn't want to wear out my welcome.

"He will have to, he's over the limit!" Tony replied for me. 

I sensed a conspiracy.

"Ohhh, look I don't want to put you out," I said for myself.

"No trouble, there is still plenty of salad left from lunch. It will just be us and Anisa." 

There was that smile again. I think Shalia was matchmaking again, but I certainly didn't complain.

"Tony, come and help me clean up," Shalia said, running her fingers through his hair.

Tony made a point of the beer in his hand.

"Drink, drink , drink. That's all you think of. Come!"

The fingers that had been running through his hair grabbed a fistfull and Tony rose from his seat and followed her. She wasn't finished yet.

"Anisa, go outside and keep James company."

"Yes mum," came a tired voice in reply.

Anisa walked out into the balcony, rolling her eyes.

"You don't have to." I said, "I'm fine out here."

"Heh, it will keep her off my back for a while."

A sharp rebuke came from inside in Arabic, to which Anisa replied in the same language and a similar tone.

"Sorry about this. Mothers!" she said, sitting the chair Tony had recently vacated.

God, but she was beautiful. Maybe I had spent to much time up north, I don't know. Everything I said for the rest of the afternoon seemed to be utter gibberish. Anisa was a gracious host, but I beat myself up on the way home as I replayed in my mind the previous few hours.

I didn't see Anisa for three months after that day, well not in the flesh. She was in my dreams a lot, that smile, the curves. Shalia was at work at least once a week doing errands for Tony, so when I saw her I thought of her daughter. I tried rationalizing things, you know, she's the boss's daughter, she's younger than me, best stay away. When I hadn't seen her for three months, I thought my chance was probably gone anyway.

The first Saturday of every month I had lunch with Tony and Shalia, just as I had the day I first met Anisa - once with the extended family again, once just the three of us. Today, I rang the buzzer, the gate opened, and I drove in. Shalia greeted me at the front door with a kiss on the cheek. If she was ten years younger and not the boss's wife...

Upstairs, the smaller table was set with four places, so it wasn't a big crowd today. A big, southerly change had swept up from the southern ocean bringing cold, stinging rain. The large, stacking sliding doors out onto the balcony were closed and a little wood fire flickered in the corner.

"Do you like Lebanese food, James? I'm doing a lamb kofta, an old family recipe," Shalia asked as she passed me a beer.

"I'm sure I will love it!" I replied. I hadn't had a dodgy meal there yet, and it sure beat spaghetti on toast which I had for lunch last Saturday.

"Tony will be up in a minute, he is just helping Anisa with her bags."

"Is she moving out?" I asked.

"No, back in. She started sharing a house with a girlfriend and her boyfriend, but it didn't work for her so she is back home." 

Her answer told me Shalia was very happy to have her back under her roof.

She returned to her cooking, and I sat in an armchair and watched the rain as it tried to bash its way through the glass doors. Anisa was home, that was good. It explained the four place settings on the table. The butterflies started flapping in my stomach just as they had before the under-sixteen, one hundred metres final at the nationals all those years before.

Tony came upstairs, joining me drinking beer watching the rain. We talked shop and the whole Anisa thing disappeared from my thoughts. We were discussing a new contract we were going for. Tony wanted to use a cheaper grade of steel so we could drop the price of our tender. I was against this.

"Tony, we have a reputation. I've spoken to the guys up at the mine and they are really happy with what we provide now."

"But JB's are against us this time, and I know they supply Ranger at a lower price than what we can do it for!" Tony was worried.

"And Ranger have more shut downs for maintenance because it wears out too quick!" I argued.

"The bean counters in head office in London don't know that!" Tony raised his voice.

"I've included a comparative analysis between the two in the tender document. I'm also sure that we are going to get a big tick from the mine manager. He worked at Ranger before he started for BHP, so he knows the issue." I was confident.

"Boys, boys, boys! You are just like little children, you get angry when you're hungry. Come, lunch is ready," Shalia interrupted.

Tony ignored his wife. He was passionate about his company but also his workforce. "I'm just saying that if we don't get this tender, then I will have to let ten guys and the casuals go!" 

Before I could continue, Shalia intervened. She was behind him now and she placed her hands on his shoulders.

"Do I have to send you to your room, little man!" She scolded him as she would a child.

"Only if you come too!" he replied, reaching up and making a playful grab for her breast above his head.

She slapped at his hands and they both laughed.

"No more shop talk. Let's eat." Shalia was making her way back to the table.

Tony caught up with her and grabbed her around the waist, nuzzling into her neck.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to our room?" 

Their hijinks were interrupted by a voice on the stairs.

"Knock it off, you two. I came home to get away from that stuff!" Anisa said sternly as she climbed the stairs. She was wearing baggy track pants and a football jumper. She was still gorgeous.

"You mean this?" Shalia asked, turning in Tony's arms and planting an exaggerated kiss on his lips.

"Err gross! Old people kiss! You do know you have a guest?"

"James is almost one of the family!" Shalia replied, extracting herself from Tony's grasp.

"I'm not sure he would want to be related to you two!"

"Where do I sign?" I asked, and everybody laughed.

It was a lovely meal made even better by Anisa's presence beside me. After we finished Shalia went downstairs then called up to get Tony to come down.

"The washing machine isn't working. Can you have a look?"

Tony left, leaving Anisa and I alone.

"Sorry, she isn't going to stop until I'm married with five children!"

"I'm not complaining!" I said with feeling, then quieter. "They obviously love you a lot. Your mum's very happy to have you back home."

"Yeah, I know."

"What happened at the share house?"

"My friend and her boyfriend made mum and dad look like puritans. They were all over each other all the time. Plus she was a screamer. I couldn't get any work done. And..." She stopped.

"And?"

"No, nothing else, it was just not going to work with my studies."

We talked for a while longer, well, she talked. I just got lost in her eyes, watching her mouth. The way she pushed the hair back off her face. She grabbed my hand.

"Have you been listening to a word I've said?" Anisa asked, a little annoyed.

"Would you like to go to dinner with me tomorrow night?" I asked, back in my little dream world.

"What! Where the hell did that come from?" Her eyes were open wide, her face shocked.

I don't know why, but I thought honesty was the best policy.

"When you walked up those stairs three months ago, I saw the most beautiful woman I had ever seen."

"Are you serious?"

"Definitely. I don't know if you will like me, but women like you don't stroll into a man's life very often. After making a complete ass of myself last time I spoke to you, I vowed if I got another chance I wouldn't let it slip away." I laid it all on the table, I had to hope she didn't brush me off.

"And you think you're not making an ass of yourself now?" Anisa was keeping her cards close to her chest.

"I probably am, but I guess I'll know one way or the other and then I can go from there."

She considered me coolly for a moment.

"Where are you taking me?"

That sounded promising.

"Wherever you like, just a meal away from other distractions."

"Okay, I suppose that can't hurt." 

I was soaring with the eagles.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Surprise me!" 

Damn, my first test. "Should I speak to your dad?"

"Why? Do you want to take him out too?" She was laughing at me now.

"Well...you know he...he's my boss and you're his daughter."

"So? Mum has been throwing us together, so I don't think they will mind!" Anisa stood up. "I've got some work to catch up on, especially if you are taking me out tomorrow night. I'll be ready by seven. Don't be late!"

With that, she left me sitting at the table, ecstatic, anxious, and full. Shalia and Tony appeared a short time later looking sheepish.

"How was lunch, James? Did you have enough?" Shalia inquired as she moved the dessert plates away.

"Yes, it was delicious, thanks."

Tony asked if I wanted another beer but I declined.

"What did you and Anisa talk about? She seemed very pleased with herself as she made her way to her room," Shalia asked, watching me intently.

"Oh not much, just about her house and stuff." I could feel Shalia eye's boring into me. " I...well I... I asked her out tomorrow night." I eventually got it out.

"What did she say?" She was on tenterhooks.

"A qualified yes, I think."

Shalia let out a little squeal of delight. I don't think Tony was as keen.

"You are a nice boy, James. Some of her boyfriends, yikes! You will be good to her won't you?" Shalia was almost dancing a jig.

"He had bloody better be!" Tony interrupted, Shalia was so happy she missed the swearing.

I got up. "I guess I'd better be going. I've got find a restaurant for tomorrow night."

I gave Shalia a kiss on the cheek and I thanked her again. Tony shook my hand, much more firmly this time. I let myself out.

I got home and scoured the net for a restaurant. I didn't want to go too fancy or formal, but I wanted it to be nice. I settled for a pub that did up-market pub food. I was there at six fifty-five and only had to wait twenty minutes before Anisa was ready. She looked great and we had a good time. 

I was a lot more relaxed away from her parents, and we got to know each other a lot better. When I dropped her off, I asked if I could take her out again the following Saturday and she said yes. I walked her to the door, which was opened just as we got to it by an excited Shalia and a pensive Tony.

They invited me in, well, Shalia invited me in. When I declined, Tony said he would see me bright and early the next morning. He did - I was bright and early every morning after the date. The following Saturday we went to a similar place only, being a Saturday, night they had a band on in another part of the pub. We went in after eating and hung out for a while. 

I was taking her home and just as we got to Cottesloe Beach, she asked me to pull into the parking lot on the beach.I was unsure about this. I didn't know what she wanted. My thoughts went back to some girl's reactions to seeing, hell, even feeling my package. Luckily, she only wanted to talk. We got out and sat on the boardwalk listening to the waves.

"Do you remember last Saturday when you asked about my time at the shared house and I said and... but didn't finish?"

"Yes." 

Anisa shivered. 

"Do you want a jumper or jacket? I think there is one in the car." I offered.

"No, I'm fine. I just want to tell you about the "and" before we go any further." 

She seemed to be summoning up the courage to tell me something. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear it.

"Okay," I said softly.

There was only the sound of the waves for a while. She huddled in under my arm, sheltering from the sea breeze. Then it came.

"James, I...I'm a virgin."

"So? I think that's great."

"I want to stay a virgin until I'm married," she said, pulling away a little.

"I don't know why it's important to me. I was bought up a Catholic, but I never really thought about it until the last few years. I went to an all girls school, and some of my friends were doing "it" on weekends when they were like fourteen and fifteen. You know my family so you know we are tight, and I guess I never got in a situation where I had to choose until University."

She pulled away further, I thought she really wanted to get this all out and I didn't want to interrupt, so I kept quiet.

"I've had a few boyfriends but none of them has understood. They think I'm a freak. I've got some friends who say they are still virgins but I know they give blow jobs, and even one girl let's guys, you know. Put it in her bottom, so her hymen stays intact!"

She stopped again but I didn't think she was finished.

"So, I'm just telling you before this goes any further. You have to know I'm not going to do any of that stuff before I'm married."

Her hands were in her lap and her head was bowed. Almost like she was praying, but she was crying. I got off the seat and knelt in front of her. Lifting her head so she was looking at me, I placed my hands on hers in her lap.

"I think it's wonderful that you believe in this and want to carry it through. I've got to tell you that I am not a virgin and I hope that doesn't matter to you... I hope it doesn't matter to you because I'm pretty sure I love you. I know we don't know each other and all that, but I think I knew when you walked up those stairs three months ago. I'm more than willing to wait for you, and if I prove myself to be worthy, I would gladly be your husband."

It was too dark to read her expression. She leaned forward so her head rested on mine.

"Was that a proposal?" she whispered.

"No, not really. I haven't got a ring, or an orchestra, and I haven't asked your Dad. How about we give it some time. See each other for a while and well, you know, we will work it out."

"That sounds like a plan." Anisa lifted up one of her hands and wiped her cheeks and eyes.

"Just one question. Can we kiss? Because I really want to kiss you now!"

"Can I trust you?" That was a double-edged question.




Super Blow Bet



My college roommate, Mary, and I boarded the flight to San Diego on our way to the Super Bowl.  Mary had just lost her virginity with my help.  As a result of the circumstances surrounding that event we had received two free tickets to the big game.  Not only that, but after our double-team on the professor, Stephen Chandler, Ph.D., who donated the tickets, all of our other expenses were being provided for.

“Annie, I still can’t believe you got Stephen to give us his credit cards to use,” Mary marveled.

“You know, Mary, I’m not even sure if it was the handcuffs or the whip that convinced him.”

“Annie, it could have been you putting on that dress and pretending to be Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”

“Or it could have been you, Mary, putting on that skimpy tennis outfit and pretending to be Anna Kournikova.”

“Maybe your right, Annie.  Stephen did seem to really enjoy pulling down my little white tennis shorts, bending me over, and doing me anally.  Yeow!  That hurt!  I never would have let him if you hadn’t been there to…uh…help matters along.”

“And apply the lube.”

“That too.” 

I thought back to that night Mary got her butt bumped and tried not to laugh.  It was funny as hell.  She squealed like a little pig.  Stephen has such a thick cock which didn’t help the situation.  Long and thin would have been better for anal than short and fat, not that he was that short.  Just about right to show a lady a good time.  Fuck those big dicks anyway, especially black ones.  Size does matter but just up to a certain point.

Mary screamed for her father the minister.  I don’t know why.  What was he going to do?  Take her place?  I put plenty of cocoa butter on Stephen’s putter so that wasn’t the problem.  The problem was we had such a difficult time getting the big head of his porky pecker past Mary’s sphincter muscles.  But when he got all the way up her bum she settled down and took it like a real trooper.  I was impressed although I didn’t let her know that.  She’s only been an ex-virgin for not even two weeks and already she’s strutting like a hooker or something.  I planned to teach her a lesson in humility.  For her own good.

“Annie, what are we going to do in San Diego?”

“Well, Mary, there is the game, of course.  And the parties.  Shopping.  Sightseeing.  I’d like to visit some art galleries.”

“No, Annie, I mean about sex.”

“Oh.  You know, Mary, I’m a little concerned about you lately.  Two weeks ago you were a virgin and now you’re a nymphomaniac.”

“I’d just like to get laid on our little vacation if that’s okay with you, bitch,” she snapped irritably.  “I mean, Stephen has been servicing me since he took my cherry and he’s not around.  I’d like to find some cute dude and bump fuzzies.”

“Whatever, Mary, but no sex for me.  I’m saving myself for Mark and our rendezvous in San Francisco for Valentine’s Day.”

“But you gave Stephen a blow job, Annie.  More than one.”

“That doesn’t count, Mary.  Remember that former president who said oral isn’t sex?  I merely masturbated Stephen with my mouth.  Remember what you said about masturbation?”  Mary believed that masturbation was not a sin.  She had looked the word up in the dictionary.  Webster defined masturbation to be stimulation of the sexual organs to a climax of excitement by contact exclusive of sexual intercourse.  That’s what we had done to each other with our fingers and tongues.  What she did to Dave with her hand and Joey with her mouth.  I had no problem giving a guy a rush between my lips, the ones under my nose.  But the lips below my waist belonged exclusively to my doctor lover Mark.  

“Well, since you are willing to perform fellatio, I’ll make a little Super Blow bet with you, Annie.”  Oh my, the girlfriend was getting just a little too smug.

“Let’s hear it, Mary.  I love competition.  Don’t forget I beat your cute little no longer virgin ass at wrestling.  Less filling!”

“Tastes great!” she shouted back.  Some of the other passengers on the plane stared at us curiously.  “What exactly is in semen, Annie?  I know they say protein, but do you know specifically?”

“Of course I do, Mary.  I repeated what the gay manager of the football team who had their way with me in the locker room responded when I worried about all the semen I had consumed.  Ricky had explained that it contains small quantities of aboutonia, ascorbic acid, blood-group antigens, calcium, chorine, cholesterol, choline, citric acid, dreatine, deoxyribonucleic acid, fructose, guutathione, hyaluronidase, inositol, lactic acid, magnesium, nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium, purine, pyramiding, pyretic acid, sodium, sorbitol, spermadine, spermine, urea, uric acid, vitamin B12, and zinc.

“I got it, Annie!  We’ll find some players from these Super Bowl teams and convince them to audition for a beer commercial.  We’ll do our ‘tastes great--less filling’ wrestling routine.  All the players have to do is hold a beer in their hand while we give them a blow job.”

“You have a very dirty mind, Mary.  I love it!  And while you and I suck them off we pause momentarily to keep arguing.  Less filling!”

“Tastes great!”

“And they beg us to quit yapping and put them back in our mouth.  But what is our bet, Mary?”

“I don’t know, Annie, but we’ll think of something.”

I had already thought of something but I wasn’t about to tell Mary about it just yet.  That could wait until the moment of truth.  She had no chance to win and I knew what I desired if I won the bet.  And I surely would, remembering how I had gotten all of James’ big black bone down my throat that time I had been drugged and then ravaged by that college football team in the locker room.  “Well, Mary, if I win the bet, whatever it is, I know what I want you to do.”

“What’s that, Annie?”

“Get rid of all those stupid stuffed animals in our room when we get back.  They are all over the place.  It’s like a jungle.  You can barely move around.”

“But I love my bears!  Oh, all right.  But if I win the bet, whatever it is, I want you to take me with you to San Francisco.”

No way I thought.  It would be strictly me and Mark and his cock and my pussy.  I didn’t need competition.  “Sure I will, Mary.  If you win the bet, whatever it is.”  

We got off the plane and checked into the hotel.  I dragged Mary all over the city.  The Reuben H. Fleet Science Center, Japanese Friendship Garden, Starlight Bowl, Mingei International Museum, Timken Museum of Art, and much more.  Mary seemed a little bored.  Spreckels Organ Pavilion wasn’t what she thought it might be--a place of phallic worship.  Finally she perked up when I took her to Fashion Valley.  

“Mary, do you see that guy over there in the green blazer and red tie?  He has been following us.”

“He’s cute!”

“I’m going to go find out what he’s up to.  Stalking us or something.”

“I hope so!”

I walked right up to him.  “You have been following us.  What’s up with that?”

“Yes, miss, that’s true,” he replied.  “My apologies.  I’m a reporter here from New York City to cover the game.  I thought when I saw you two at the science center that your       friend might well be Anna Kournikova.”  I laughed.  And motioned for Mary to come over.

“This is Mary.  This guy thought you were Anna Kournikova, Mary.”

“I could be if that’s your fantasy, dude.  You should see me in little white tennis shorts,” Mary quipped.

“I think I’d like that,” he replied, giving Mary a head-to-toe inspection, and then returning his gaze to her chest which featured that no bra tight sweater look.  “My name is Sean.”

“He’s a reporter from the Big Apple here for the Super Bowl,” I informed Mary.  We looked at each other.  The light bulb went on at the same time.  “I’m Annie,” I said to him.

“Well, Annie and Mary, what do you say I buy you two lunch?  On my expense account, of course.”

Sean took us to the “Fifth Quarter in the Gaslamp.”  Home to seventy restaurants and thirty-five nightclubs.  All Super Bowl weekend a huge block party flourished.

We enjoyed a leisurely lunch at Barney’s Sports Bar, Sean’s favorite hangout when in San Diego.  He raved about the New York flavor of the place.  He suggested we try the crispy club panini with honey mustard slaw.  Straight from the Taste of the NFL Chef of New York’s Tribeca Grill so he said.  Bacon, deli-style mesquite turkey breast, mozzarella cheese, chopped basil and tomato on Tuscan bread.

“Sean, you have a press pass for all the game-related events and such, I assume,” I stated matter-of-factly between bites.

“Yes, I do.”

“You know at what hotels the players are staying and a lot of other information about them, I assume.”

“That is correct, Annie.  It’s my job.  I need to know where to find them to get the scoop, so to speak.”

“Sean, Mary and I want to meet some of the players.”

“We want to suck their cocks!”  Mary blurted excitedly.

Sean didn’t seem all that shocked.  He remained silent for several minutes, in deep contemplation.  Finally he spoke.  “You two young ladies are ravishing beauties.  Mary looks like Anna Kournikova and you, Annie, look like a younger version of Julia Roberts or maybe more like Angelina Jolie but with red hair.”

“You are making us blush, Sean.  You’ll help us then?”

“Will you do the same thing for me you are planning to do for the players?” Sean asked hopefully.  “Will you suck my cock?”

“I will!” Mary cried. 

“I see.”  Sean smirked lewdly.  “I’m not actually a reporter for a real newspaper.  A tabloid.  You can find it in the supermarket on your way through the check-out line.  This situation has possibilities for a story.  What the players did before the game.  How it contributed to victory or defeat.  I like it!”

“So you write that trash, huh?  I love that stuff.  What are some of your more titillating revelations?  You know, aliens abduct and impregnate Jodie Foster and that sort of thing.  She never told who the father is.”

Sean enthusiastically went on and on as Mary and I both ordered another club sandwich.  He talked about Mike Tyson who he had written numerous scandalous stories about.  Mike, in the news lately because of his latest divorce, likes cock better than pussy.  Hadn’t we ever heard that girly voice?  Both he and Don King spent time in prison where they developed an obsession with taking and giving it up the poop chute.  That’s what really made the Don’s hair stand on electrifying end--Mike’s dick in his ass.  Tyson’s wife got pissed because of all his transsexual pals and told him to get straight or beat it.  That night she caught Mike and Don King in baby doll nighties watching boxing on ESPN Classic and jerking each other off.

Then he talked about LeBron James and his Hummer.  James, expected to be the first NBA draft pick, drives a 2003 Hummer H2 to high school.  Supposedly his barely employed mother Gloria bought the $50,000 plus vehicle for his birthday.  Yeah, right.  The best part of this fiasco is that Sean claimed he got a picture of Gloria giving LeBron a hummer in the front seat of the Hummer.  The favorite son slam dunked his dick in mama’s mouth.  

Recently Sean auditioned for a position on The Best Damn Sports Show Period he reminisced.  It went well until it was suggested that he put on purple pajamas like Michael Irvin’s and give Tom Arnold head.  He asked Lisa Guerrero if that had been a prerequisite for her employment.  She said no.  Tom didn’t cheat with his latest wife except with the other guys on the show.  John Kruk is quitting the show because Tom never lets him be on top and he always has to sit on one of those donut cushions while the program is underway.  Arnold cried when he heard Kruk was leaving because he reminded Tom so much of a former wife, Roseanne.  Lisa did mention that it was her responsibility to get top stars to come on the program, no matter what it took.  Usually at least a blow job.  Except Mike Tyson.  He just wanted to borrow her lingerie.

Sean bragged about his latest coup.  He had covertly acquired a tape of Pamela Anderson going down on O.J. Simpson in the back seat of a white Ford Bronco while being driven by a friend.  O.J. wore gloves and wielded a knife as he encouraged Pamela to bob her pretty blonde head on the black bone.  The only concern that kept Sean from making the tape public was that the greedy Pamela has demonstrated in the past the ability to get far more than her share of the proceeds.  She seemed to have judges on the tip of her tongue like the one who just awarded her and Tommy Lee $741,000.  Before that she got a couple hundred thousand for the tape of her doing dirty with Bret Michaels of the rock group Poison.  O.J. took Pamela to his place and they rode a rubber raft in his swimming pool.  He told Pamela to put out or get out.  Pamela, star lifeguard of Baywatch, whined she couldn’t swim and offered to stick her tongue up O.J.’s black ass.  When Sean does publish the story the headline will read, “Pamela Anderson gets shit-faced in O.J.’s pool.”      

Mary finally left with Sean for his hotel room to complete our end of the deal.  I returned to our room to nap until she returned with the information regarding when and where we would meet the players.  She woke me when she got back.

“Well?” I asked eagerly.

“Sean is cute but he has a small penis.  Not much of a lover.  I only got off once and that’s because I helped myself.”

“What about us meeting the players?”

“It’s all set.  Sean knows players on both teams.  The ones who like to party.  In fact, some of them had asked him to find them some whores.  Are we whores, Annie?”

“No way, Mary, not whores.  Sluts.  We don’t do it for money.  We do it for fun.”

“That’s right.  For fun.  Sean told the players he’d set them up.  In return for an exclusive interview.  The story is we are coeds who work for an escort service to pay the tuition.  No intercourse.  We only do oral sex.”

“That works for me.”

“Yeah, well, I might go a little further than that.  Especially if one of them is black.  I’ve never had dark meat.  That Ronde Barber on the Bucs is cute!  His coach said Ronde is one of the fifty best looking dudes in the world, next to the coach himself of course.  Does sucking off a coach count?  That cute coach’s nickname is Chucky.  I’d like to fucky Chucky.”

Mary would remind me again of the locker room and the team that drugged me and then had their way with me that night.  They held me down while they took turns.  I remember vividly the last rites given me.  “Another white pussy is tamed.  But I really dig this one.  Feisty and wild once she gets used to the big black bone.  I think she liked it.  I know she did.  They all do.  I hope we didn’t kill her.  Maybe she’ll come back for seconds.  This was the best ball game yet.”  I was unconscious when those words were spoken but I later heard them spoken as I watched the movie they made.

“Forget about Ronde Barber, Mary.  He has a twin brother who looks just like him.  He was on the sidelines at the Philly game.  Haven’t you seen that commercial?  A blonde, like you, can’t tell them apart.  Our bet is you have to deep throat a player on one of the Super Bowl teams.  Therefore, twin brothers and coaches don’t count.  You have to abide by the rules of the game.  You don’t want to lose because of a case of mistaken identity do you?  Doh!”

“No, I sure don’t.  And I don’t plan on losing.  I love my stuffed animals!”  

“So when do we hook up with these dudes, Mary?

“We are supposed to meet the players tonight at 10:00 P.M. at their hotel.  And we are to wear nothing but Tampa Bay jerseys, high heels and underwear.

“We’ll have to buy extra-large jerseys so they at least cover our asses.”

“Let’s go shopping!  Don’t forget we have Stephen’s credit cards.”

Finding the Bucs jerseys was too easy.  They were for sale all over the place.  Getting the number 69 and the name PUSSY put on them took a little effort.  We found a strapless convertible bra that came in Raiders colors.  Well, almost--nude leopard.  You can wear it strapless, two-strap, x-back, halter, or one-strap.  Matching panties.  Black four inch spike heels.  We decided to wear our new bras strapless.  Easier to rip off that way.

We showed up at the hotel at 10:00 P.M. sharp.  Nobody answered our knock but the door was slightly ajar so we went in.  Four Raiders players sat on the floor.  Wearing their jerseys and playing John Madden NFL on a PS2.  Another older guy watched them but I couldn’t see his face at first.

Finally they noticed us.  One dude got up and came over.  “Are you boys ready to party?” Mary asked, smiling seductively.

“Excuse us, girls,” he replied. “We have to finish this game.  We’re kicking the crap out of Tennessee.  Again.”

“I’m Annie,” I offered.  “And this is Mary.”

“Yeah, right.”  He winked.  “Grab a beer out of the refrigerator while we finish the game. It’s in the third quarter.”

The older guy got up and left.  I recognized that face.  “Hey!  That’s…uh…uh…” 

“Clint Eastwood,” the guy who offered us the beer replied.  “He’s giving us acting lessons.  Didn’t you see the end of the Tennessee versus Pittsburgh game?  I’m the kicker.  Field goals and extra points.  I need the acting lessons most.  Could make the difference between winning and losing the big game.  That little twerp Buc kicker tried a flop against Philly and didn’t even get a flag.  Clint says I have great potential.  Watch my Chevy Chase routine.”  He did several very realistic flops.  And even moaned and screamed like he was injured severely.

“Sweet,” was all I could say.

“And when I’m done playing ball I might try acting.  Clint says I’d make a great villain and might let me get blown away in one of his flicks.  Clint would really like to see me kick the ball down Warren Sapp’s throat and shut him up.  If I do he says he’ll even let me say a few lines in the movie.  Something like, ‘Oh fuck, I’ve been shot’ or ‘that bullet really hurt.’  These other guys are also special teams.  That’s the punter.”  He pointed.  “The one with the long hair is the holder.  Also second string quarterback.  The big black dude is the snapper.”  He went back to his game and we went to the refrigerator.

“Oh, they have light beer,” Mary observed.  We both giggled.

Mary and I sat on a couch and talked.  Two light brews and an hour later the Raiders still hooted and hollered over John Madden NFL.

“Hot damn!” the punter yelled.  “That’s Rice’s third touchdown catch.”

I could tell Mary had become impatient because of the lack of attention being paid to her by these guys absorbed in their stupid video game.  Finally she blurted, “Tastes great!”

I followed her lead.  “Less filling!”

“Great taste, you stupid fucking bitch!” she screamed.

“Less filling, you dumb little cunt!” I retorted.

Soon we were catfighting.  Pulling hair and ripping off each other’s jersey.  Still the Raiders kept their eyes glued to their game.  Even after Mary popped my bra off and I returned the favor.

“Oh, hell, Annie,” Mary whined, “forget these idiots.  Let’s make out!”  

Nipples pressed up against nipples as we kissed passionately.  Because of Mary’s inexperience she would follow my lead and do to me what I did to her.  

I popped a menthol cough drop in my mouth and gave one to Mary.  We sucked on them until our mucous membranes got cool and tingly.  The other place on a woman’s body that has readily accessible mucous membranes is the vaginal area.  We continued to suck off the cough drops until they were about half gone and they were ready to be shared in a different way.

Good old 69, the number on our Bucs jerseys lying on the floor.  Going at a pussy upside down is a perfect fit for one’s mouth and gives more room for the hands.  I spread Mary’s outer lips with my fingers.  With my tongue stiff and pointed I flicked gently here and there.  She did the same to me.  I kept coming back to her clit, and she to mine.  We drove each other into a frantic frenzy.  The cough drops added an incredible extra sensation. 




Super Blow Bet



The punter and the holder had begun to watch us out of the corner of their eyes.  After we finished, writhing and moaning in ecstasy, they soon came over to the bed.  The other two kept playing the video game.

“I’m good,” I insisted.  “Mary is the horny one.  She’ll do you both.  At the same time.”  She nodded eagerly.  Like I said, from a virgin to a nymphomaniac in less than two weeks.  They took off their pants but kept the jerseys on.  I got off the bed and walked over to the other two and sat between them, naked.  They ignored me.  I became fascinated myself with John Madden NFL.

A few minutes later I looked back to the bed.  Mary had the punter’s cock in her mouth as the holder humped her hard from behind.  I turned back to the action of the video game. Finally I spoke to the two Raiders beside me.  “This is more exciting than the naked cyclists in BMX XXX.”  They continued to ignore me.

The punter and the holder made a lot of noise as they shot their loads, one in Mary’s mouth and the other in her pussy.  They yelled stuff at her as they spurted cum all over Mary’s face about her being a dumb fucking Bucs fan.  

The video game also climaxed about the same time.  “McNair is dead meat!” the snapper screamed as two Raider linemen chased him backwards.  They hit him hard, one low and one high.  The ball popped loose.  A Raider linebacker picked it up and rambled for a touchdown. 

“Holy fucking shit!” the kicker uttered excitedly.  “That’s the old ball game.  We kicked the Titans’ sorry asses.  Again”  Finally he looked at me.  He said to the snapper, “I want this one, the redhead.  You take the blonde.  That’s your thing, right?  Blacks on blondes?”  The snapper nodded, and licked his chops lewdly.

The snapper sat on the bed next to Mary.  She put her hand in his crotch.  “Big fella, I bet you got a real big fella.”  She giggled.  He nodded, grinning.  When he showed it to her she jumped in shock.  “Oh my fucking God!” she squealed.  I couldn’t tell if it was in fear or joy.

“Do you dance, babe?” the kicker asked me.

“I can do anything, honey,” I cooed, “and I do my best work on Saturday night.”

“Let’s polka.”  He put on his music.  The Chicken Dance.  We raised our hands up in the air, flapped our arms like wings, and shimmied up and down, while clucking.  “A little bit of this and a little bit of that,” he sang.  I wondered how foolish I looked doing the polka naked, a plucked chicken.  The kicker seemed to enjoy it, especially my jiggling boobs which he kept staring at. 

When the song ended the kicker took off his pants, pushed me to my knees, and waved his rigid penis in my face.  He looked even a little bigger than the snapper.  But I had seen a bigger one.  A lot bigger.  That night in the locker room when they coerced me to cooperate.  What concerned me about the kicker’s cock was the hook.  It definitely pulled to the right.

The time seemed right to finalize the wager with Mary.  “Okay, Mary, here’s the bet.  The snapper and the kicker are about the same size with respect to the package.  Extra-large.  Whoppers.  I’m going to have a greater challenge because of that crazy hook the kicker has.  You have to deep throat your cock.  Get it all past your lips.  Balls busting up against your chin.  I have to do likewise.  If we both can do it we’ll have to come up with a tie breaker.  Sudden death overtime.  Are you game?”  She nodded but had lost some of her confidence.  Not so smug now.  The big black one-eyed monster rubbing up against her lips asking to part them seemed to intimidate her.  “Get ready, get set, go!” I cried.

“Hey dumb fucking stupid cunt,” the kicker snarled at me, “you are here to blow me and not talk my fucking ear off.  Start sucking, slut.  No way you can get all of my big dick down your throat.  Many have tried and many have failed.  But give it your best shot, you cum guzzling whore, and don’t stop trying until you gag and choke.”

“Hey, asshole,” I spat back, “don’t get in a steriod rage, ’eh?  Settle down and don’t call me ‘dumb fucking stupid cunt’ again.  I’m not stupid.  If you keep up these anti-feminine slurs I’ll bite your dick off and you won’t be so big then.  How would like to have to pee sitting down?”

The male can often find himself in precarious situations.  He knew I was pissed and got contrite real quick.  “I’m so sorry, Annie.  Please forgive me.”  I could tell he meant it.  “I’m just so revved up about the game.  Trash talking is just part of the motivation thing.”

“That’s okay, honey,” I purred, “I understand and I accept your apology.  Now I’m going to give you the best blow job you ever had.  I have a bet to win.”  He smiled gratefully.

The kicker picked me up like a feather and turned me upside down.  This dude was real muscular and very strong.  My legs wrapped around his head, my breasts pressed up against his body, and my mouth found his penis.  I had never sucked cock like this before and it felt quite strange but erotic in this position.  Being upside down the blood rushed to my head and made me light-headed as the blood rushed to the head of the penis I had in my mouth.

Mary had begun to lick and suck the head of the snapper’s black meat.  “Don’t cocks have a great taste?” she asked coquettishly.  “And cum, too.  Tastes great!”

“Less filling!” I muttered, pulling the kicker out from between my lips momentarily.

“Tastes great!” she retaliated.

“Yours looks quite filling, Mary.”  I giggled and went back to my own peter project.

The snapper grabbed Mary’s blonde hair and forced her back down on his massive member.  “Suck the black hose dry, bitch.”  She gave it her best shot.

I slurped on my own slurpy, pausing only because I had an important question.  “So,” I asked the object of my attention’s owner, “how many girls have you…uh…had upside down with your lips on her love lips?”  He couldn’t talk but he gave me a sign with the forefinger and index finger of his left hand.  “Seriously?  Two?  Me, too.  My cousin, Emily, and Mary.”

He broke away from the fur burger briefly.  “Seriously.  You and one other.  Rosie O’Donnell.  Did it on a dare.  Fuck, I hate to lose a bet.  She tastes like a cross between oyster stew and sushi.  I fucking hate sea food.  The punter bet me I couldn’t make a lesbian cum.  Rosie squirts.”

“I don’t believe you.  About only two.  You are lying, just like the dude on the Rolling Rock commercial.”

“Okay, so I fibbed a little.  I didn’t think I could really fool you.  You’re not blonde.  Hey, and I dig this little red patch of pussy hair .  I like to hold them upside down like this because they can’t get away.  And there they are staring my cock right in the eye.  Sooner or later they get hungry.  I held Britney Spears upside down for almost twenty-four hours before I let her loose, but not until she had cum all over her face.  And she peed right in my mouth.  I can tell the difference.  Less filling.”  

“Rosie is a little on the plump side.  How did you manage to hold her up in the air?”

“The adrenaline rush from fear.  She is one mean man-hating bitch.  I heard she cut off Marilyn Manson’s nuts when she found out he was a guy.  Likes her M&M plain I guess.  You know, without nuts.  Although she is having his baby so says the rumor mill.  Rosie has said all gun owners should go to prison.  But the hypocritical hussy has this little Glock pistol and said she’d blow off my balls if I dropped her.  You would not believe how cold it felt when she pressed the barrel of that gun up against the family jewels.” 

“I bet you give Sean a lot of stories.”

“Sure do.  And I get reimbursed well.  In pussy and blow jobs.  You would not believe all the celebrity snatch he knows.  Sean is working on a story now about gay quarterbacks in the NFL.  I gave him the scoop.  Half the QB’s in this league like to suck the spit monkey.  My holder on field goals, you know, the dude over there playing John Madden NFL, is also the back-up quarterback.  He is bisexual.  I copied his diary and gave it to Sean.  Talk about Deep Throat!”

“You or him?”

“Both, just in different ways.  You can stop talking now.  I want to find out how deep your throat is.”  I did stop talking, because I wanted him to stop talking too.”      

Just as I really started to get into it, enjoying both his face in my muff and my lips squeezing his main muscle, I heard Mary gag.  I looked over.  The snapper had Mary on her back on the floor and his big black cock in her mouth.  But only half of it.  He couldn’t push it in any further despite his rabid effort to do so.  “C’mon bitch, open wider!” he demanded.  Mary couldn’t.  

“I can’t, I can’t,” Mary whined.  “It just won’t go any further.  I can’t take you pounding the back of my throat much longer.  My jaw is numb.  You have to stop.  Please…please…no more.”  She held the huge black throbbing cock in her hands and began to cry.  The snapper loomed over her in extreme disappointment with a giant boner that wasn’t going to just go away quietly.  Mary looked at me in total resignation.  She had given up on the bet and looked to me desperately for help.  “Less filling,” she whispered softly.  “You win, Annie.  Please help me.  Please!”

“Mary, you have to do something,” I suggested in response to her plight of despair.  “Give up your ass.  Let him bang your back door.  You can’t leave him hanging hard like that.  You’ll start a race riot.  What about it, dude?  How about those sweet white cheeks?  You belong between them, making her beg.”    

The snapper nodded enthusiastically and offered, “I have Analeze.  She’s not the first white bitch who wanted black in the crack.  Ask the Tampa Bay cheerleaders.  I infiltrated their ranks.  They all met a new chocolate friend in their chocolate hole.  The entire squad is rooting for the Raiders.  And we don’t call our home field The Black Hole for nothing.”

“Mary prefers cocoa butter,” I advised.  “There is some in my purse.”  He went and fetched the jar.  

He rolled Mary over and began to squeeze and massage Mary’s cheeks.  His large black hands on her little white butt did look rather erotic.  After dipping the middle finger of his left hand in the cocoa butter, he inserted it quickly in her anus.

“Ouch!” she muttered, although not in serious pain.  “That wasn’t so bad.  I thought that big black cock of yours would really hurt.”  I certainly wasn’t going to tell Mary that the worst was yet to come, and cum.  She would find out soon enough.

The snapper rubbed the lube on his pulsating pecker with his right hand as his left hand continued to probe Mary’s pooper.  Keeping his fingers inside her, he guided the head of his cock into the opening.

“Oh my fucking God!” she screamed.  “What the hell was that?  I feel like I’ve been ripped wide open!  Oh…shit…oh…oh…no….no!”  He pushed it in further.  I could tell this was going to get bad.  I covered my ears and did the kicker no hands and all mouth. I noticed that the kicker’s knees had gotten weak due to a combination of my upside down expert cock sucking and watching a very white chick take a very black cock up the ass.  He removed his juicy face from between my legs, gasped for air, and staring at Mary being brutalized by his black buddy, and sputtered with a chuckle, “Now there’s a new kind of Chicken Dance!”  That made his knees buckle.

“You better put me down,” I insisted.  “On the bed.” He did.  I flopped sideways on my back with my head over the edge.  “Bring it home, honey.”  He did.  All the way home.

He fucked my mouth hard and fast, going all the way in and almost all the way out.  Again and again and again and again.  Screaming “Tell me it’s ‘less filling’ now, bitch!”  I squeezed his butt trying to get it even further down my throat and had to shake my head vigorously to deal with that angle of the dangle.  Finally his crooked cock erupted like a volcano and his entire body convulsed as he yelled “Touchdown!” over and over.              

The kicker got up from atop me, holding his dribbling dick in his hand and letting every last drop fall on my face and between my open lips.  “Less filling,” I moaned.

“That was a super blow, honey!” he complimented genuinely. “Best I ever had.  You should be in movies.  The cock sucking kind.  Now I think I’ll win the Super Bowl.”  He strutted back over to the video game and said to the punter and holder, “Match us up against those faggot Bucs.  We fucked their cheerleaders in the crapper and now let’s stick it to their sorry ass team.”

I looked over at Mary being jack-hammered mercilessly in her heiny as she screamed in agony.  “Hey you!” I yelled at her plunderer.  “Come over here and fuck a Bucs fan in the mouth and shut her up.  If you can.  You Raiders are pansies.  I bet I can get your little black needle dick down my throat.  All of it.”  He pulled out of Mary’s behind roughly.

My roommate watched in admiration and disbelief as I made the snapper almost disappear as he shouted, “Fuck the Bucs!  Fuck those cock sucking Bucs, their cheerleaders, and  their fans!  Fuck Bucs!  Fuck Bucs!”

I pulled him out to say something.  “Hey, Mary, double or nothing?” I asked hopefully as I had visions of her doing my laundry for the entire semester.

“No, Annie.  I gave up,” she replied softly.

And so did the snapper.  He gave it up as his balls bounced against my chin, still screaming about Eagles being eunuchs and fairies or some such thing.

#

Late Sunday night we got on the flight home and I tried to nap.  We hadn’t gotten much sleep due to the super blow party and Super Bowl Game.

“Annie?”

“Yes, Mary?”

“Who won the football game, anyway?”

“You know, I’m not sure.  I got a little confused at the end and we were more than a little trashed.  Everybody screaming and yelling about the referees and instant replay.  Yellow penalty flags and those red challenge flags flew all over the field.  The officials kept reviewing plays over and over and changing their mind.  The coaches of both teams got apoplectic.  Fireworks blasted prematurely. Utter chaos.  But I know for sure who won the Super Blow!” 

“I still can’t believe you ate the whole thing!  Both of them!  As soon as we get back I’ll rent a U-Haul truck and get rid of the stuffed animals.  I’ll give them to a day care center or something.  But I’ll miss my bears!”  Mary began to cry.

“Mary, Mary, it’s not the end of the world.  Besides, I thought you preferred one-eyed snakes these days.  Even though you won’t be going to San Francisco with me, you have Stephen to console you.  I imagine he is really horny since he hasn’t seen you for almost a week.”

Mary wiped away the tears and smiled.  But then she frowned.  “You’re not going to tell him about our Super Blow party are you?  That I sucked a big black cock and did those other things.”

“Those other things like run on the field in nothing but your Nike Shox?  Lucky they didn’t catch you.  I heard people shouting, ‘Anna Kournikova is running naked in the end zone!’  You definitely gave number 20 on the Bucs a boner.  I noticed him jerking off on the sideline right after your romp.  I had the binoculars on him.  Nice penis, by the way.  Then when he came back on the field he had cum stains on his pants and made an incredible intercourse…uh…I mean interception. He is cute.”

“Oh yeah, I do remember that.  Number 20 is Ronde Barber.  He called me Anna when I ran up to him naked and asked for my phone number.  But you promise you will never tell what I did?  Stephen would be really mad.”

“Of course I won’t tell, girlfriend.  That’s our little secret.  As long as I never trip over another stupid stuffed animal.”   

“I’ve forgotten about them already.  They are history.  But talking about getting stuffed, you know, uh…uh…”

“You’re horny.”

“Yeah.”

I fetched a blanket and covered our laps.  The remainder of the flight seemed rather pleasant.  Mary cried out rather loudly once.  I told the flight attendant she woke from a bad dream.  When she made me cream my panties with her fingers I had been fantasizing about Mark and Valentines Day in San Francisco.  It would be wonderful. I thought.

It turned out to be wonderful.  Not exactly the way I planned but that’s a story for another day.  Shit happens.  Ask Pamela Anderson.  

After arriving home Mary and I went shopping for groceries.  We noticed the latest issue of Sean’s tabloid in the magazine rack.  But the lady in front of us snatched up the last copy.  I looked over her shoulder.  The headline read, “Two coeds know who blew it for the Raiders.”             



Super Bowl



Sam and I were invited to some friend's house to watch the Super Bowl a few years back. We are die-hard Cowboys fans and thought it would be really awesome to watch it on their big screen. We had expected more of a party atmosphere. However, we were the only two invited. The friends were a lady I knew from work named Paige and her husband John. We had barbequed a few times before and all of us got along well enough. 

When we arrived at their home we were brought into the den. Paige had made a whole buffet of junk food and it was spread out on the coffee table. John had set up an ice chest full of beer next to the couch and had a few bottles of Bacardi and Jack Daniel's on the end table. We all sat around and talked through the pre-game show. There were plenty of drinks passed around and we were all a little less inhibited than usual. 

Paige was a short but well proportioned girl with long blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. As a matter of fact people at work and even our husbands had commented on how similar we looked. John was about Sam's height and build, but where Sam was dark complected with hazel eyes, John was light with blue eyes. They made a striking couple. Both appeared so innocent, like newlyweds, even though they were the same age as us. They did not however have the innocent personality to match. 

Paige and I spent most of our coffee breaks and lunches talking about sex. She had been hooked on the subject since finding out that I was bisexual. John was more of the average male. He had a very dirty mind and could hardly keep his hands off of Paige. 

That is how this evening was going. He had slid very close to Paige on the love seat and was tracing her nipples with his finger through her T-shirt. I watched as his playing made them press hard against the fabric. It was easy to see that she had not been wearing a bra. Paige cooed and giggled at him. Sam and I had seen John be frisky before, but never anything this open. It felt as if they were putting on a show for us, so we sat back and watched. 

John's hand fell between his wife's legs and began to caress the inside of her thigh. Sometimes he would reach the top only to press hard against the crotch of her cotton shorts and then return to her thigh. Paige was definitely enjoying all of the attention. 

She glanced over at Sam and I and grinned. "Honey, did I ever tell you that Kris likes to make love to other women?" The question was phrased sweetly and caught me off guard. I cleared my throat to cover the moment. 

"Really? That is very interesting. Didn't you also tell me that you wanted to try to be with another woman yourself? I'm sure Sam and I won't mind seeing a little action before the game. What do you think, Kris? Would you like to fuck my wife for awhile?" John's words were not sweet. They came out of him in a voice that carried real lust. Sam just smiled at me. We now knew why we had been the only ones invited. This was all a set up to get me to show Paige the ropes, so to speak. 

Well, I was not about to be outdone by them. "I would love to, John, on one condition. While you watch us you men have to strip down and show us how hot we are making you." His smile faded, but only briefly. In seconds he was out of his clothes and urging Sam to do the same. 

He did have a nice body. The only hair was the small patch of paleness around his crotch. The muscles of his chest and stomach tightened and released while he was pulling off his boxers. However I got my real pleasure from watching my husband enjoy the view as much as we girls were. Sam undressed a little less quickly and immediately took to stroking himself. My husband was never embarrassed easily. 

I joined Paige on the other couch and kissed her gently with my hand cradling her neck. This must have been something she had wanted a long time because she sighed from just that brush of lips. I leaned into her and kissed her more deeply. Her mouth was sweetened by the taste of the rum. Her tongue was soft and very eager. I sucked on her bottom lip before letting her go and there was another moan. 

I checked on the men and they were enraptured. I stood and removed my own clothes. I am a bit of an exhibitionist and did this slowly, touching myself a little as I went. Sam smiled at this playfulness. 

Then I sat back down and grabbed the bottom of Paige's shirt. As I raised it over her head, her beautiful creamy breasts popped free. Her tiny nipples were dark pink and painfully hard. She stood in front of me and I helped her slip out of her shorts and panties. I could smell the excitement coming from her. 

I pulled her to me and kissed her stomach lovingly. Her knees quivered and I guided her back to the couch. 

"I want you to do everything possible to me." she said. This came out in broken speech because her breath was so rapid.

I asked her if she had any toys we could play with and she said no. Then her eyes lit up and she jumped up and ran up stairs. The sudden movement came as a shock to all of us and we laughed. 

While waiting on her to return I kept the guys entertained by making my own nipples as hard as Paige's were. She bounded back down the stairs with something in her hand. 

"Will this work. I got it for a Christmas present and never opened it." I saw that she was holding a jumbo candy cane stick. It was about 8 inches long and nice and thick. I grinned and took it from her. 

She sat next to me again as I opened the wrapper. I took my time working on the candy like I was sucking a dick. It tasted good. When I thought it was slippery enough, I slid it along her lips. She licked the tip of it and let me roll it around her mouth. Then I slid it down and massaged each of her nipples with it. I kissed the flavor off of her lips and worked my way down the sticky trail left behind by the candy. 

When I took her first nipple into my mouth, both she and her husband moaned. The noise made me look over at him and somehow Sam had laid over his lap and was licking and sucking his dick. I could see that Paige was absolutely shocked. I laid her back down and really went to work on her tits. 

At first she had her eyes glued to the men, but soon they were rolled back in her head instead. Now I took the candy cane and made my own nipples sweet and sticky. The mint in the candy made them tingle and feel cold. I pulled Paige's face onto my breast and she started to kiss innocently. She suckled at my breast like a baby at it's first feeding. Her mouth became more and more a part of my body. I leaned back on the couch and she followed lying on top of me. I felt her warm body pressed against mine and her hungry tongue now going faster and faster on my nipples. It was very nice. She had straddled my leg and I could feel the heat and moisture from her on my thigh.

I raised my leg under her until I felt her smooth lips drench my skin. She rocked on my leg and grinded herself against me. I could feel trickles of her juices rolling down my thigh. She made herself come like that while discovering how much fun it was to cup and fondle a breast while kissing it. 

As I sat up and laid her back we watched the men. John somehow managed to control himself long enough to push Sam away from him. He stood up and laid on the floor closer to us. The he turned Sam around in an opposite direction and pulled him on top. They were both enjoying the 69 before we began again. 

I spread Paige's legs around me and kissed all inside of her thighs. Then I made one very wet fast lick all the way along the slit of her pussy. The taste was wonderful, but I would wait for more. Her back arched and she took in a sharp breath. When she had laid back down I ran the candy cane up and down along that wetness. It slid easily back and forth. She squirmed under me and asked me for more. With my other hand I started to rub her little clit slowly while working mainly around her opening with the candy. She moaned much more loudly this time and the men stopped long enough to take a look. As soon as I knew they were watching, I pushed the candy cane over halfway inside her slick pussy. 

She took it easily and came at the same time. When I began rocking it in and out of her I watched as the sticky candy pulled her lips with it. Now with much more excitement going on in front of them John and Sam had unwound their bodies and lay facing each other. They stroked each other slowly wanting to make this experience last. In order to give them a better view and myself a better position, I pulled Paige into a sitting position and brought her to the edge of the couch. Now screwing her with the candy cane, I leaned in and began to lick on the outside of her lips and clit. I could taste her sweetness and the candy's. It was delicious. I felt the little piece of flesh that was her clit harden and swell under my tongue and I knew that she was coming again. I slammed the candy almost all the way inside her a few times and then pulled it all the way out. I dropped my mouth to her hole and fucked her through her climax with my tongue. I could feel the mint tingling my tongue and the candy coating my face and making me sticky. I dropped the candy cane and grabbed Paige under her hips and pulled her hard onto my face. She screamed and tried to pull away. When she realized that I wouldn't let her she gave in and rode my mouth until she was completely out of breath. 

I pulled away from her and felt her lips stick to mine and tear away from each other. John seeing my face crawled over to me and began to lick the candy and his wife's cum from my lips. I relaxed and let him. Sam had picked up the candy and rubbed it all along the shaft of his cock. It glistened with a faint red sheen to it. He walked over to a dazed Paige and pulled her mouth open by her chin. She didn't argue or resist. She just tried to swallow my husband's large dick whole. 

I could hear the slurping sounds she made. Sam took a handful of her hair in one hand and guided her head in the speed and depth he wanted. It started slow and deep, coming all the way to the head before going back down on it. Eventually, he was bobbing her head in a blaze of movement. John had finished with my face and saw me watching the other two. He told me not to worry about them, to just let him thank me for treating his wife so well. It sounded good to me. 

I laid down and John all but dived face first between my legs. He was very talented with his mouth. He seemed to know exactly where to lick and bite and suck. He went between touches of his tongue that I could barely feel and so much pressure it hurt while it felt good. As I came he pulled his face up to meet mine and let me taste my own juices on him. 

Sam and gone back to the slow rhythm with Paige's head. She still had that dazed look when John tapped her on the shoulder. 

"It's your turn, dear. I've shown Kris my gratitude, you show her your's." 

"I couldn't. I mean I don't know what to do. What if I don't like it?" I could tell she was really nervous and was all for calling it off, but John insisted. 

He actually pulled her over to me and pushed her head down between my legs. Then I saw another look replace the fear in her eyes. She was getting turned on all over again. Apparently, she felt awkward wanting to eat a woman out and had to be "made" to do it. Sam saw this too, and forced her little hand around the candy cane. She looked up at me seeking my permission. 

"Do exactly what I did to you and it will be perfect." She smiled and nodded and I think I heard her whisper yes ma'am. With that she went dutifully to work. 

The first touch of the candy was amazing. That tingling cold feeling I had experienced on my lips and nipples was multiplied a thousand times by my sensitive pussy. She gave me a tentative lick. 

"Mmmm, you taste so sweet." That was music to my ears. She gently screwed my sticky pussy, but she attacked me with her mouth. The two different sensations drove me crazy. After a few minutes she threw aside all reservations she may have had and started improvising on my technique. She slid a slick finger down to play with my ass. She stood the candy cane up through my lips and positioned it like a dick and gave me a mock blowjob while fingering me. She even stuck it inside me and then deep throated it so that her lips and tongue touched my skin when she went all the way down on it. My orgasm was amazing. I screamed to her that I was cumming and she fucked me with wild abandon. 

Sam didn't even let me enjoy the afterglow. He pulled me on top of him and slid his hard dick into me. It seemed to warm all of that cool tingling. I felt my skin sticking to him as I slid up and down. Suddenly he forced me to be still. I started to protest but stopped immediately when I felt something cold dribble onto my ass. Sam pulled me down until I was laying on him and a finger started massaging my ass. Slowly the finger slid inside me very deep. I love sex and I love anal sex, but this was heaven. I had never had something inside of me from both places at once. I tried to start riding again but was held still by Sam's strong arms.

The finger was removed and replaced by the smooth head of John's dick. He pushed gently and I gasped as just the head sank into me. I tried to relax my body, but I could feel my muscles tightening, including those wrapped around Sam. Sam thrust into me one time and again I was able to relax. John pushed a little harder this time and I felt him slide inside my ass about four inches. The pain was exquisite. I thought for sure the worst was over and they let me rest for a second. Then without warning he buried the entire length of his dick in my ass. I screamed and moaned at the same time. I had never felt so completely full. 

Sam started fucking me from beneath to relax me again. Soon John started trying to match a beat to Sam. When they got together and started fucking me at opposite intervals, Sam sat me up a little. Paige come and straddled his face and put her sexy ass right in mine. While my husband ate her pussy, I pleased her ass with my tongue and fingers. 

Somehow it was an unspoken agreement that we should all come at the same time and when one of us would get to close, that person would slow down or even stop for a moment. Several times I had to stop before I exploded. Paige pulled away from Sam's mouth, and I knew it was very hard to resist coming under his expert tongue. I felt both men stiffen and swell many times; each time it brought a moan to my lips. Finally I felt both at the same time. I felt my muscles tighten around both of their cocks and felt them gasp. Paige started to pull away again and this time I grabbed her and forced her to ride Sam's face. I felt John shoot hard into my ass at almost the same instant as Sam filled my pussy. I rode both of their orgasms into my own and felt Paige push back to get my tongue further in her ass as she screamed. 

We all rocked slowly for a while enjoying the warmth flowing everywhere and finally separated and lay naked on the floor. After a while we all took a shower and sat down to watch the highlight reel of the football game we had missed. 

Later on the way home Sam started giggling. When I questioned him he said "I just realized that Paige got one hell of a surprise from finding out her husband was also bi-curious tonight." 

"Well that's where you are wrong, my love. She got two major surprises tonight." Sam looked at me and raised his eyebrows. "You don't think she really expected to get her best Christmas present in January do you?"



Super Bowl



My husband said it was a bad idea. I thought it was genius. We live less than ten minutes from the stadium and we have a spare bedroom and bath... Why not rent it out for the big weekend? He said we would probably end up with someone weird or creepy who would kill us, rob us blind, or at least trash the house. Well... the house got trashed before by members of his family who were definitely not paying guests, so, honestly, I was not worried about that at all. But being the good wife and nice girl that I am, I didn't say anything and let it drop.

Except that I kept thinking about it. I mean, it makes sense: Hotels overcharge and book up quickly for such a big event, I might help someone out and make some cash, tax free, for myself, all at the same time. Everybody wins, right?

When it turned out that my husband was going to have to work on that weekend, I made my decision: I would do it, and behind my husband's back. I figured I would buy him something nice too from the money I would make to ease my guilty conscience.

I put an ad online: "Small (Queen) bedroom and private bathroom in private residence available for rent for Super Bowl weekend. Must apply via email and interview via skype. Rate is negotiable."

Well! The following days were a flurry of assorted scariness, indecent proposals and rudeness, all sorts of "offers" flooding in. After a lot of skyping I grew discouraged and was starting to wonder if hubby was right after all. Since I was going to be alone in the house with these strangers I wanted to be sure that I would be safe, and none of my candidates gave me that feeling. I got to the point where I was ready to abandon the whole idea.

Two days before the game, though, I skyped with a very nice couple from California, Cathy and Tom. They were about 15 years older than me, and had just managed to get tickets for the game. They wanted to drive through the night and arrive on Sunday morning, go straight to the stadium and tailgate, then spend Sunday night here at the house. We had a very lively and amiable chat during which I instantly felt comfortable with them, and I decided, you know what... Let's just do it.

Suddenly, though, I got really nervous.. What had I done! In order to calm my self down I spent the rest of that day and the next day cleaning my house and shopping for groceries. A text message came through late Saturday night informing me that Cathy and Tom were just now leaving their home in Northern California. While they drove, I slept, or tried to sleep, still hoping that they would not turn out to be blackmailers or kidnappers or crazy axe murderers!

Cathy and Tom arrived mid morning, and to my very great relief they were warm and friendly people, perfectly normal and just glad to have found accommodation at short notice. They dropped their overnight bags in the spare room and freshened up, and gave me the agreed upon amount in cash, before leaving for the stadium and leaving me to dream about all the things I could afford to buy now!

Since I didn't want to give them a key I stayed up and waited for them to return, and it was very late when they finally came dragging in. Clearly it had been an enjoyable time for them and their favorite team even won the trophy, they were in a near euphoric mood... as well as slightly inebriated! They made some excuse about "long day" and "no sleep last night" and disappeared into their bedroom. I was about ready for bed myself, went and brushed my teeth, and crawled under the covers.

Some time later, something woke me up. I'm usually a sound sleeper but man, there was some serious ruckus coming from next door... It only took me a minute to realize what was going on: My houseguests were enjoying a romp in my spare room! I lay still and listened for a while... I could hear Tom saying something and Cathy responding with a moan, the bed was creaking, some wheezing and some grunting... I imagined what they would look like, Tom with his salt and pepper hair and hairy arms probably had a hairy chest, he was tall and athletic... Cathy was voluptuous like me, but shorter, and with tits bigger than mine and brown, curly hair... I imagined them fucking, their sweaty bodies colliding, living out the day's excitement on each other, fueled by alcohol... When I closed my eyes I could see in my mind how Tom might be on top of Cathy, her legs wide open, receiving him, her nails scratching down his back in ecstasy... Or maybe she was riding on top of him, her head flung back, his hands mauling her tits...

My hands caressed my body as I was imagining these things and before I knew it, I was touching myself. The noises coming from the other room aroused me to no end and my pussy was sopping wet. I held my lips open with one hand and rubbed with the other, circling my clit a few times and then plunging two fingers inside my cunt. Back and forth I would go, driving myself crazy to the point where I was writhing on my bed and panting, oblivious to the world...

I was so engrossed in pleasuring myself that I didn't notice that the noises next door had gone quiet... Until I heard a knock on my bedroom door. It scared me half to death and I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Dee? Is everything alright?" That was Cathy's voice.

Oh God, how embarrassing!!

"Yes, of course... Are you guys alright?"

"Oh, we're fine... I think Tom has fallen asleep though, are you up for a chat?"

"Sure, hang on!" I said, thinking I would meet her in the living room and maybe have a glass of wine.

Instead, she opened my bedroom door and let herself in. She sat on my bed, wearing only an oversized t-shirt, and started to tell me about their day, about the game and the people they met. I noticed she was shivering, it does get cold at night even during Arizona winters, and I invited her to cuddle into the foot end of my blanket, which she gladly did. We ended up talking as if we had known each other for years, quickly moving on to personal topics, and giggling like school girls about the things we had in common. I felt very comfortable with her and didn't mind when she moved in closer and started to brush over my arm.

"You know, Dee," she said, "Can I say something to you?"

"Sure!"

"I think you heard me and Tom go at it earlier, and I think you enjoyed it."

Whoa!!

"Uhm, yes, well, the walls are very thin..." I mumbled, my face turning a very dark shade of red.

She laughed heartily. "You are cute when you're all flustered! I could just kiss you!"

And without even taking another breath, kiss me she did... Fully on my mouth, hard, deliberate... And she rolled on top of me and pinned my arms over my head, and kissed me some more... Our lips mashed together when her tongue drove deep into my mouth, I felt her weight on me, her breasts smooshed against mine, I smelled her scent... The suddenness and force of her assault, if we want to call it that, was intoxicating, and my body reacted to her with a long suppressed desire as well as the interrupted and unfinished lust from earlier..

I kissed her back, hungry. I loved how she dominated me. My arms were still pinned over my head but I was squirming under her, rubbing myself on her body.. She finally sat up and we both got rid of our clothes, now naked, we wrapped our arms and legs around each other and continued kissing, then our mouths wandered and we both placed little licks and bites all over each other, savoring the salty skin, every inch was touched by hands and lips.. moans and sighs from us both, I had never been with a woman but my God, I loved caressing her soft skin, suckling on her enormous tits, playing with her nipples and biting her flesh while she teased my pubic mound and ran her fingers through my wet slit...

We were incredibly aroused and soon found ourselves in a 69 position, Cathy was on top of me and buried her head between my legs while pushing her bottom into my face... She had been with Tom just hours before and her pussy still had traces of their juice cocktail in it... And it was now dripping into my mouth.. Me, Miss always well behaved Dee, was drinking a man's cum out of a woman's cunt!

I was beside myself and licked for all I was worth, I wanted to taste it all, drink it all, I wanted to give Cathy pleasure and do a good job, I wanted to make her cum hard and release more of her juice onto my face... Cathy was giving my clit a relentless tongue lashing and fucked my hole with two fingers, I was so close to cumming and started screaming when she suddenly stopped and flipped us over.. Now she was on the bottom and I was on top, the different angles giving us different sensations as we resumed our licking..

"Oh God Oh God it feels so good..."

"Lick me harder, baby, yeah right there, right there, oh fuck yeah..."

"Fuck, you girls are fucking hot!"

Wait, what..??!

Suddenly there was a second set of hands on me, and while Cathy's tongue was working on my clit there was now a second tongue, licking my ass... Our moaning and carrying on had woken Tom up and he was now joining in the action. His cock was already rock hard and he drove it straight into my dripping pussy from behind, forceful and strong... It felt so fucking good to have his heat inside me, his girth stretching me to capacity. Cathy let up from me and started sucking Tom's balls into her mouth causing him to moan out loud, and then he slowly started to thrust... steadily, deliberately... Cathy resumed her licking on my clit and I came within seconds, screaming my lust out into the room, begging her to stop, collapsing on top of her...

Tom continued his strokes in and out of me, no doubt enjoying the convulsing around his cock... Finally, he slipped out of my limp body and rolled onto his back. Cathy crawled out from under me and climbed on top of him, she rode her husband like a cowgirl on a mechanical bull. I felt exhausted but still the spectacle in front of me aroused me again, I wanted in on the action... Tom's legs dangled off the side of the bed and I asked Cathy to turn around into a reverse cowgirl position, I then knelt on the floor between Tom's legs and licked Cathy's open cunt.. She bounced up and down on her husband's iron rod like a crazy person, shrieked and hollered, telling us she was about to cum... And cum she did, with a great big scream, her body shaking, she grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up to kiss me wildly, her tongue all over my face licking her juices off, while my hands mauled her enormous, soft breasts..

She slid off of Tom and lay on her back, her legs open, an invitation... Tom and I both wanted it, we both crawled between her thighs and licked her, she tasted so sweet but tangy, she was delicious and looked beautiful as she was on her way to another orgasm which rolled over her within minutes...

Tom now very seriously needed to cum. He kissed me full force on my lips, I tasted his own mouth as well as Cathy on him.. After all this excitement I was ready for more as well and did not object when he pulled me up on my hands and knees and shoved his dick into me again. His thrusts were hard and fast, he was not concerned about my pleasure but only his own, he was growling and fucking me hard, my tits were swinging under me and I could hardly steady myself... A few minutes was all he needed before he shot his release deep into me, muttering obscenities, and I could feel his cock sputtering and jerking as long ribbons of hot lava were deposited inside my cunt..

This left me hot and bothered.. Cathy saw my need and threw me on my back, she swiftly positioned herself between my legs and ate her husband's cum out of my now sore pussy... Tom, meanwhile, knelt next to my head and had me lick his cock clean. Cathy knew exactly what I needed now, a soft tongue, some licking, her hair tickling my thighs and her fingers once again fucking my hole.. Once Tom felt he was cleaned up enough he joined his wife, together they pampered me, two tongues, four hands, all over me, stimulation overload, they worked me into the most wonderful orgasm I have ever had.

I pulled them up to me, and gratefully licked their faces.. We kissed each other goodnight and fell asleep, right there in the bed I usually share with my husband..

They had to leave mid morning. Luckily someone had set an alarm, and while they took their showers I cooked breakfast.. I had wondered how we would look at and talk to each other in the morning but there was no awkwardness at all.. We kissed and hugged, ate breakfast and chatted for a little while.. then kissed and hugged some more, and then they drove off, leaving me sore, but happy.



Super Bowl and Us Three



Excitement at being the host city for the Super Bowl was amped way up when my wife's company got a block of tickets for their top executives and spouses. As the weekend got closer plans came together for several parties and events beginning on Thursday before the game.

Over the years we had gotten friendly with a handful of her counterparts in other cities, mostly bonding over drinks and dinners at meetings. But this weekend was much more focused on sports and partying then any previous get-together and promised to be a special time. I had no idea....

Donna (my wife) was on a conference call with her counterpart in Chicago, Rick, when he mentioned he was coming to the game. While some of the out-of-towners were staying at the Intercontinental, others had plans to stay with family and friends and Donna spontaneously invited Rick to stay with us. With our kids known to be spending that weekend with Donna's parents, we have plenty of room and it seemed like a good way to make the weekend more festive.

I didn't really give a thought to the sexual tension this might create until late Thursday night after drinks and dinner. Rick is ten years younger than I, seven years younger than Donna, handsome and fit. I wondered what Donna would think if I invited home a beautiful woman ten years her junior for the weekend! 

Friday I went to work and Rick accompanied Donna to headquarters. That night about 20 of us went out for drinks again and by this time all three of us were thriving on the energy of a fun packed time with no responsibilities. Not really wanting the evening to end, the three of us met up with a couple that we're best friends with, Michael and Andi, just to have a nightcap at our favorite Mexican restaurant. Andi was her usual, flirty self and it was a nice mix of friends from different places. It also made us even more "sexed up". We did, however, go home and tumble into bed as it was late and a Friday after a long week.

Donna and I made love on Saturday morning. At various times we've played with storytelling and other, relatively tame, sexual variances but this was mostly ordinary. It had actually been a long time since we'd done anything adventurous, and after 15+ years together I don't think either of us had really thought about it. Nothing was said about the flirtations from the night before or the handsome man sleeping upstairs.

Saturday night was the big corporate fling, and a good time was had by all. The three of us stumbled back to the house, tipsy and happy, and again not wanting the night to be over. This time, Rick, who had not really flirted with Donna much to this point, suggested a game of "truth or dare", the parlor game that has become quite an erotic forum in internet chat rooms. We went back to the study, which opens off our bedroom, and settled in, cross-legged on the floor.

It took and hour but then it got steamy. I dared Donna to take off her bra while still wearing her jumper and she did. Later it was my turn to ask a question and I asked Rick how many times he'd thought of making love to Donna. 

He said "a couple". One thing led to another and it started to resemble strip poker as Rick asked Donna to take off her underwear (which she did!). Again, she was still in her jumper, with a pair of pumps on, so we really hadn't crossed any lines. But then Rick dared me to kiss her pussy. She turned away so Rick couldn't see, and motioned me to come over between her thighs and I kissed her firmly and briefly. I remember thinking she didn't taste like my come from the morning-it had faded.

Rick got up to go to the bathroom. Donna told me she didn't want to "go off the deep end here" so when Rick came back she said, "one more round of truth or dare and we'll stop".

Rick is a genius. He said, knowing she was bare-chested under the jumper, " I dare you to take your top down and have each of us suck your nipples at the same time". Shockingly, she promptly reached for the shoulder snaps, dropped the top, and we each put our faces to her breasts. Before I could even let the moment sink in, I heard her moan, reached for her pussy, and found Rick' s hand gently rubbing her (remember the panties were already gone). I clasped my hand over Rick's and pushed it against her so he would know to continue.

To the best of my knowledge no one else had made love to Donna since we first began dating. Certainly not since the kids. Yet here we were, in the dark, Rick and I undressing ourselves and Donna in a very deliberate effort to make this happen. He went down on her for a few minutes while I kissed her mouth and her breasts. He worked his way up her tummy and her chest and positioned his cock to enter her. Rick is a much bigger man than I, something I would not have guessed since we're about the same build, but there it was. It occurred to me Rick had probably never made love to a Mom, or even a married woman.

Donna turned to me and said, "Are you sure?" 

I said "yes, absolutely" but thinking back on it, it would have been way more erotic to guide his cock into her with my hand. He fucked her, slowly and deeply, while I kissed her face and breasts and my heart thumped.

He pulled out of her to let me in, and she instantly motioned for him to put bring his cock to her mouth. Donna doesn't usually like to go down on me after I've been inside her, but this was different. The close-up of her sucking the underside of his cock while I was inside her was over the top, and I came soon. We switched places and Rick pushed himself back into her and my fresh come. He came quickly, too, filling her more deeply than I ever do; adding his come to mine.

Rick is only 29. After just a few minutes of lingering in her now very slippery pussy, he said, "I'm ready to go again" and began sliding in and out of her, again, very slowly. Donna usually comes with quicker strokes, and she hadn't really had a full-on orgasm yet; I think she was overwhelmed. But at this point she gazed up at Rick, put her hand behind his neck to bring their faces together in a kiss, arched her back, and came quietly. I'm pretty sure that was the first time they had actually kissed.

You know how the room smells like woman at the beginning of lovemaking, and then smells like sperm and woman together at the end? This was like a sperm fest by then, with the strong, obvious dominance of our mixed comes.

I went out the back door of the study to pee in the hedges and smoke a cigarette. In the dim light, I watched from outside through the study door as Rick fucked my wife and mother of my children. I could not believe how erotic this was; I was a newfound voyeur! Little details like her ankle bracelet against the back of his calf were indelible images. She came again while I was outside. (The next day she told me that was the wildest part-"You got up and left and there we were!")

We moved into the bedroom. Donna laid down on the bed and before I could think about it I went down on her; a bold homoerotic move if I may say so -- I'm still not sure I've absorbed all those emotions. She pulled me up to take a turn on top and she came one time with me. 

At this point I got creative. I laid down on my back with my legs together, had Donna get on top of me, and said "Take her from behind". Rick straddled my legs and began to fuck her from behind while Donna kissed my face and her breasts rubbed my chest. I reached down and stroked her clit, and I could feel the underside of his cock going in and out of her against my fingertips. In this position his size was really obvious and she told me later it was almost too much. We made her come together that way, and then he pulled out of her.

Donna whispered to Rick, "I want you to squirt your come in my mouth". She took him in her mouth again and I got on top and came a second time. Rick did not come a second time-by then it was very early morning and with a big day ahead Rick exited back up to the guest room. We slept.

Game day was a big party. We all had shit-eating grins on our faces. I have a picture from that day with Donna between Rick and I, our arms around her, her tired eyes smiling. It is one of my most prized photos. We partied, we flirted, we even talked a little about how great the night was, but we did not go for it again. Too tired, and Donna was sore! Rick left for Chicago on Monday after the game and life returned to normal. 

The following summer Donna and I rented a house at the beach. Toward the end of the trip, we invited the grad student staying next door to join us for the ENTIRE weekend. And during spring break the year after that, we took Donna's newly single college roommate with us on our annual ski trip, which featured several long, erotic nights together including one memorable night when Donna fell asleep early and I spent most of the night loving on her roommate, even falling asleep inside her at one point. But those are other stories... 



Super Bowl Game



PREGAME

I discovered it doesn't get bigger for a city than when its football team goes to the super bowl for the first time. I work for a company that services the aeronautical industry in Seattle, which basically means we feed off of Boeing. Our company's northwest division is primarily made up of young engineers in their mid-20s to early 30s, assigned in teams of five to ten, depending on the particular project. Our team of six has been together for a little over a year. Because of the intensity of our work and constant deadlines for each phase of projects, teams either gel fast, figuring out how to work together in the heat of high demands or they crash and burn. Ours has gelled well. We work together like a well-oiled machine.

Much of the reason for our team's success is Carl, our team leader, at the ripe old age of 35. He is a strong competitive quarterback type, committed to our team exceeding the company's every expectation. He also has his sights on a fast path to being division leader and eventually to the upper echelons of the company, at the very least securing the prestige, income and benefits of a VP office. Carl's intentionality in life is also seen in his physique. He is 6'2", with brown hair, steely brown eyes and appears chiseled from head to toe, although the nature of our work doesn't allow us to see what's under the stylish dapper clothing he wears.

In addition to Carl's detailed attention to deadlines and meeting benchmarks, he has a thing for creating side challenges that sharpen us as a team. He constantly throws out parallel colloquialisms comparing us to the Seattle Seahawks like: "Russell Wilson doesn't win games by himself," or "the best offense is a good defense," or "you're only in if you are all in." It annoys the hell out of me. I am a Broncos fan, transplanted to the Pacific Northwest. 

Pete, Jim and Brad are the three other men on our team. They are all gifted fun-loving engineers in their late 20s. Pete is a 6'5" black former college football player from Oregon who secures immediate attention when he walks in a room by his muscular size, and then keeps it by his broad smile and warmth. Jim is tall and handsome from the gorgeous mixture of parent's ethnic backgrounds. His father emigrated from India to go to school and grab his own piece of the American dream. While in college, he also found a way to grab a stunning piece of Norwegian-American coed ass, got married and together produced intelligent beautiful children. Brad rounds out the three as a 28 year-old good ole boy who left the dairy farms of Central Washington where he grew up, to become an engineer and carve a different life for himself in the big city. His days growing up on the farm gave him a natural strength and tireless work ethic from the day-in day-out responsibilities. It also gives him an attractive downhome charm.

Other than me, Serena is the only other female on our team. She grew up in the punk culture of urban Seattle, enjoying the early music influences of Kurt Cobain's Nirvana and other culture-shaping bands of the Pacific Northwest. The 5'6" stunner is pale white, modestly endowed, with blue eyes and black hair accented with a rebellious nose-pierce and a dyed pink stripe in her hair. She is one of the most creative people I've ever met, illustrated by her choices in avant-garde fashion. For Serena, the more anything is outside conventional norms, the better. The best I can tell, the same applies to her sexual recreation. 

My name is Sandy. I am a five-eight brunette with hazel eyes, and olive skin. Humbly speaking, my attractive face with my 36D tits, small firm ass and long legs easily garner the attention of men and women in professional and social settings. I am athletic, fit, and have been an intensely competitive sports fan all my life. Growing up on the front range of Colorado, this means I am a rabid Denver Broncos fan. One of my dreams growing up was to become a Broncos cheerleader, a dream unfortunately prevented by my professional career that relocated me to Seattle. I have no doubt I would have made it if I auditioned.

The most annoying two weeks of my life were the 14 days after the AFC and NFC championship games that determined the Denver Broncos would be playing the Seattle Seahawks in New York for the Super Bowl. Don't get me wrong, I was thrilled my boys in orange and blue finally made it back to the super bowl with the indomitable football magic of Manning and company. The drought in Denver had been too long. The feeble attempts of coaching and quarterbacks that followed the Elway years were painful. The post-season loss the year before was brutal. This year was different. The record-breaking offensive season had been orgasmic. Now the Denver Broncos (with the unmatched experience and precision of Peyton Manning) were up against the inexperienced inconsistent Seahawk offensive, with all due respect to their impressive defense. However, their defense had never met the supremacy of our regular-season offense. Everyone knew the Broncos not only deserved to win, but would handily take the championship, finally returning the Lombardi trophy to the mile high city. I certainly did, and was willing to bet everything on it -- and did. The only ones delusional enough to think the Seahawks had any chance of winning were those in the Pacific Northwest. They were too close and delirious to be objective, blinded by their team's first trip to the big dance. My competitive fire and lifelong passion for the Broncos combined to answer every pro-Seahawk comment with an equal or greater Bronco comeback. I was exasperatingly determined to let them know in Seattle that a formidable representative of Broncos country was in town.

Part of me felt badly that some of my colleagues were wagering serious money on the game for the Seahawks to win, guaranteed to lose it all. That was until their incessant smack talk the first few days after the playoffs made me want to bet them myself, all-too-easily taking their money as if it were another year-end bonus after the certain Broncos win. My competitive anger boiled from the daily rants by the other five on my team ganging up against my bold unapologetic Bronco fanaticism. They enjoyed playing pranks on me like changing my computer desktop to pictures of Wilson and Sherman, or replacing my Broncos posters and memorabilia with Seahawk décor. It was easy to take it in stride, throwing their weak attempts to intimidate me back in their faces. For all the ranting of the Seahawks and their fans (especially Sherman) before the game, the Broncos would do their talking on the field. The famous record-breaking decibel noise of the Seahawks would go deafening silent when met by the record-breaking Bronco magic. What made it worse, there was nowhere I could go during those two weeks in Seattle without being inundated in florescent green. Walls were green, streets were green, pizza was green, eggs were green, even the famous Seattle coffee was green. I wanted to puke green. I proudly risked my life wearing my orange and blue, like a soldier behind enemy lines. The game couldn't come fast enough; time during those weeks moved like molasses. 

At work, our team worked feverishly the Friday before the Super Bowl to meet a Monday morning deadline for the project. Delays of crucial information from the home office held us back, making it impossible to get everything done. 

"We finish this Sunday morning," Carl announced. "Every one is in," he said.

"That's the Super Bowl!" Pete complained, realizing there would be no choice.

"Super Bowl doesn't start until later," Carl said. "If we get in first thing, we will be done by game time. We can all go to my place around the corner and watch the game there. The only condition is no orange and blue allowed," he chided.

"With all due respect, fuck you," I sparred. "Just like the Hawks, all you guys are going to see is orange and blue." Everyone laughed at the good-natured humor. 

We all dutifully arrived early Sunday morning and worked hard through lunch. We were done by 3:00, finishing everything for the next day's deadline. We were all spent, but excited that game time had finally arrived - no one more than me.

Carl lived alone in a spacious downtown townhouse, although his rugged looks, downtown business connections and early signs of wealth meant he rarely slept alone. The main level of the townhouse sprawled with a plush couches, chairs and a glass table in the middle, all arranged to stare at the massive wall-size HD television centered on the wall. An empty dining room table sat at the edge of the room next to a large window overlooking the city. We got there fifteen minutes before the game started. Carl called the caterer to let them know he was ready for the food to be delivered. I was famished. Carl pointed us to the refrigerator filled with beers, and to the counter with a variety of other hard beverage choices, including an assortment of Absolut flavored vodkas. I enjoyed the irony of seeing a twelve-pack of Blue Moon among the assortment of beers, a fine Colorado beer. I took the beer, popped the cap and took a swig as a sign of good things to come. 

The four men in their green and blue jerseys and blue jeans surrounded me. Even Serena got into the spirit wearing a Hawks t-shirt, tied in back with a knot in a way that exposed her studded navel in front and a blue skirt with green tennis shoes. She had separate blue and green ribbons in her hair, tied up to create two tall pigtails. 

"I need to get dressed for the game," I said, prepared not to be outdone. I changed into my favorite bright orange skin-tight Denver Broncos sports bra with the number 18 emblazoned on the front with a matching short orange and blue striped skirt and blue ankle boots. There was no doubt this was my Super Bowl victory outfit. There was no way for them to know I even had it down to my lucky official NFL Broncos thong underneath that my old boyfriend used to love me to wear on game days. It didn't take me long to realize it was my lucky game day thong for more than one reason.

"Holy shit!" Jim said when I walked out dressed for the game. It was probably the most revealing anyone had ever seen me dressed. It wasn't exactly work attire, but in my mind, perfectly appropriate for game day. As far as I was concerned, I was here to represent my team, and to do it in the best way possible. 

"Get ready for an all-American Colorado-style ass-kicking gentlemen," I boasted with my bottle raised while some opera chick was singing her heart out with the national anthem. 

I could see that my Broncos attire caught the attention and arousal from the four men, based on the undeniable movement in their pants. It looked like I may have even had it from Serena. I finished my first beer and reached for a second, keeping pace with the other five.

"Bull shit," Brad said, "although dressed like that, I could become a believer."

I blushed. "You'll all be believers by the time the game is over," I said arrogantly.

"A little wager on that?" Pete offered. We were all beginning to feel the initial benefits of the beer on empty stomachs.

"You bet," I said. "What are you willing to lose?"

"Every time the Broncos score, the five of us have to take a shot of vodka," Carl said. "And every time the Seahawks score, you have to take a shot of vodka."

"That's easy," I said. "You're on."

"That's a pussy bet," Serena said. 

"You have another idea?" Jim said.

"Every time the other team scores, you take a shot of vodka, remove one piece of clothing and serve the other side by getting or doing whatever they ask -- more snacks, more drinks -- until the next score," she answered.

"Fuck, that's serious," Pete said, suddenly feeling bashful.

"I don't know," Brad chimed in agreement.

"Fine," Serena said. "We can play your pussy high school bet."

"I'm in," I said confidently, half without thinking about it, feeling less inhibited from the two beers on an empty stomach. My competitive fire was burning hot after being taunted by these five the last two weeks, and dishing it back. I had complete trust in my team. Their lack of confidence was suddenly showing when there was something risky at stake. "If I were you, I'd back out too," I said with a cocky smile. "Our offense would have all you stripped in no time, and then there is no telling what I might have you do," I said more seductively than I should.

A thick tension filled the room from my challenge, as we all watched Joe Namath in a princess coat tossing the custom made game coin in the air. 

Carl's new appreciation for my physique found the challenge too enticing to pass up. "I'm in, and if we're in, we're all in," he said, signifying a double entendre. If the bet were on, it meant everyone in the room was committed. No spectators. It also meant everyone would be "all in" to the end of the game. There is no option to back out once the game begins.

Carl knew he already had Serena committed; the extreme bet was her idea. He looked over to the other three men. They each studied one another's faces.

"Once the game starts, the bet is off," I said, still confident, but having a tinge enough of nerves that would make me OK to just watch the game with shots of vodka at stake.

That's all they needed to push them over the edge. The thought of dealing with the certain ribbing that would follow them in the months to come from backing down when the stakes were high prodded their competitive pride. "I'm in," the three said in unison.

"OK," Carl said. "The bet is on. Any score counts, except for an extra point. Two point conversions count as a second scoring after a touchdown." We all agreed to the simple rules.

My stomach fluttered at the thought that the rest of the evening would be framed by the unfolding bet with every score. Even in the best-case scenario of Manning scoring quickly and often as I hoped, I would find myself in a room of my five colleagues, including my boss, stripped naked and serving me game time refreshments. Unless this game is scoreless, everything at work was about to change. I took some comfort that the Broncos would start with the ball. I couldn't think of a better way to start the bet, than watching Peyton take his time driving the ball down the field to be the first to score.

"Come on Peyton," I said as the whistle blew to start the game.

FIRST QUARTER

No sooner had the ball been hiked from the first snap did the room erupt in shouts of shock, awe, cheers and my gasp in disbelief. An errant shotgun snap by Manny Ramirez thinking Manning had called for it, when he was instead calling one of his famous audibles at the line, sent the ball flying over Manning's head into the end zone. Moreno dove to recover the fumble, scoring a Seahawks safety only 12 seconds into the game.

"Oh shit!" I yelled. "That's never happened. What the fuck!" I yelled.

The four men, and Serena all laughed at the unimaginable blunder on the first play of the super bowl, and what it would cost me.

"Yes!" Pete said with deep satisfaction, looking at me. "It looks like we have our first score," he said. He got up and brought the flavored vodka and shot glasses to the table in front of the couch. I could tell the team felt some pity for me, having to pay up on the bet less than a minute after the agreement had been sealed. But it was also clear they felt far more reveling than pity. I poured the drink and threw the shot back. The elixir poured down my throat, warming it all the way down. With still only two beers in my system, it didn't take long for my mind to feel the first tingle. I was ready for the food to arrive.

"I say you lose your top first," Pete said, eager for the show to start.

I reached down and untied my boots, kicking them off under the table.

"That's not fair," Jim said. "We should get to pick."

"That little rule wasn't established before the game," I said. "I'll pick what I take off," I said in a firm tone that wasn't interested in debate. "It's a minor set back, Peyton won't let that stand," I said still confident and covered. I took orders for more beer, delivering them barefooted to each of the five. That was about all I had time for.

The room with baited breath as the Seahawks drove down the field for 51 yards in nine plays. They pushed and pushed, desperate to score a touchdown. The good news is the Broncos were able to hold them to a field goal. The bad news is a field goal is another Seahawk score.

"Shit!" I said, suddenly feeling little consolation that the Bronco's defense held them to a field goal.

"Fuck yes," Brad said. Carl watched with quiet satisfaction. Things were about to get very revealing with his sexiest employee. Serena smiled at the early success of her "team building" game idea. Brad took the liberty to pour my second drink, making sure it was filled to the top.

I threw the drink back. The room watched and waited with suspense for what I would do next, or more accurately, what I would take off next. If I took off my sports bra, I would be completely bared on top. If I took off my skirt, my tiny thong would do nothing to cover anything important. My head started to buzz with a dizzying hum from the vodka. I was feeling tipsy much faster than usual. Where is that damn food? Of course, there had never been a day with greater demand for food deliveries. For all I knew, it wouldn't arrive until the fourth quarter. The suspense grew. I reached under my skirt and pulled my thong down, barely preserving my modesty, at least for the moment.

Moans echoed across the room. 

"Shit, you're driving us crazy," Jim said. 

"She's got nothing left," Pete answered. "Something's coming off with the next score."

"This game is turning around here," I said, my words a little slurred. "Peyton never allows this. Come on!" I yelled at the television with a mixture of frustration and loyal confidence.

The next ten minutes of the first quarter, the five enjoyed calling out requests for my drink service as if a cocktail waitress. They kept trying to find creative ways to get me to bend over, exposing what lied bare beneath my short skirt. Their pride-filled laughter and taunting words tormented me. I watched as Peyton tried to advance down the field, but kept getting stopped by the infamous Seattle defense. Shit!

Finally Russell Wilson and the Seahawk offense had their turn. With a painstaking 58 yards in 13 plays, the Seahawks found themselves again at a fourth down in field goal range. Hauschka easily kicked the 33 yard three pointer to put Seattle up a measly 8 to nothing after three scores. Nevertheless, it was a third unanswered score in the first quarter. 

I found myself glad for the third shot of vodka to ease my inhibitions. "Shit!" I repeated, genuinely feeling the room moving around me. My feet stumbled as I tried to stand still. Without fanfare I dutifully reached down to the bottom of my sports bra and pulled it up over my head. My firm large tits bounced in front of the mesmerized five pairs of eyes. They all stared as if they had never seen anything more beautiful. I was certain they hadn't. They were shocked I willingly stood stripped of all but my tiny skirt in front of them. Ten hands wanted desperately to feel my smooth gorgeous breasts.

The doorbell rang. My five colleagues all looked at each other realizing the food had arrived, and I was standing there in a compromised condition. After a quick whispering consultation, Carl instructed me to answer the door and let the food delivery guy in.

I reached for my top to cover myself.

All five voices of my colleagues suddenly yelled, "No, no!" with laughter. Serena took it from my hands. "That belongs to us now," she said with a smirk.

"You want me to answer the door like this?" I asked, fully knowing the humiliating answer. "No way," I said in protest.