Monday Night Football

(This story is just for fun. No deep meaning or relationship issues, just sex)

My current girl friend and I had been arguing quite a lot of late, so it was almost with a sigh of relief from both of us when she went on a weeklong business trip. I had no intentions of sitting at home while she was gone. She knew it and I knew she did.

I decided to go down to Antoine’s for two reasons. First, of course, was the fact that Sandra hadn’t been putting out for two weeks now and I was some kinda horny. Sometimes I hate blonde, virginal (hah!) American princesses. But I just can’t stay away from them. Second, it was Monday night and the Eagles were playing the Cowboys.

Antoine’s is a fun place to hang out. Its an overgrown hole-in-the-wall club; with a loud jukebox, a postage stamp dance floor and a couple of battered pool tables. The attractions are the really cold beer and the incredibly mixed crowd that congregates here. We’ve got gays, lesbians, bi’s, transgendereds and straights. Men and women of every shading and appetite come here.

Usually there’s an unwritten rule that everyone ignores the other people they see here and whatever they’re doing. It doesn’t always work. I once saw a married couple bump into each other here. He was with some guy and she was with, well, me. By the time they got to screaming at each other about being “cheating, lying, two-timing queers”, I decided to fade out of the picture. I might be pretty well built, 6 foot tall and 185 pounds and reasonably strong, but being butch don’t mean I’m dumb.

Tonight Antoine’s was packed. It always is for Monday night football. I did get to the bar without having more than a couple of pushing matches, all of which I won. The bartender slid me a cold one and hollered “On your tab Rizzo.” I nodded. Hell, I didn’t think it would be free. I popped the cap off against the edge of the bar, took a swallow and looked around.

I saw her and fell in love. She was at the far end of the bar but I got a good look as the crowd parted and I headed that way. It wasn’t her sexy legs, shown off under a short skirt that drew me. It wasn’t the top of her stocking showing she favored black lace, at least in her garter belt. It wasn’t the translucent white blouse she had on, although I appreciated that show too. It wasn’t even the way she bounced her foot, her high heel dangling from her toes as she did it. What drew me irresistibly to her was the way she pounded her longneck beer on the bar and screamed obscenities at the Dallas quarterback.

I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. As I headed towards her I crossed paths with Rodney, a longshoreman who’s pretty tough for a guy. He glanced at me and we both knew we were after the same woman.

“I saw her first, Riz,” he snarled at me. “Besides, I can tell she wants a man, not a dyke.”

I was wounded by Rodney’s words. To show him my displeasure I drained my beer while taking two steps and smashed the empty bottle over his head. To my happiness he went down immediately. I had been forced to get hard nosed with him before and was glad to see he was learning to fold without making a fuss.

As always happens at Antoine’s, when one person uses a little vigor in their arguments everyone has to get into the act. A brawl broke out instantly, which occupied the bouncers who had originally been heading my way. I surged through it with no thought other than to rescue the fair maiden at the bar.

She really didn’t seem to need too much rescuing. When one struggling couple fell against the bar beside her she simply pulled her beer out of the way. As I arrived though, another brawling pair had blocked her view of the game. She was showing delightful amounts of her legs as she twisted and turned trying to see past them, and I was already imagining them wrapped around me. I reached over her shoulder and jerked the obstructing duo out of the way and sent them reeling across the floor.

This action fortunately coincided with the commercial break for the two minute warning. She turned to izmir escort me and said “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied. “I hate people getting in the way.” Now that I was close I found I needed to revise my estimate of her age. When I had first seen her I thought she was about my age, in her early forties. Now I could see that 50 was probably closer to her correct age. She still was a very attractive woman. She had blue eyes and light brown hair and a figure that was definitely that of an adult full-grown woman. Even if I hadn’t been suffering from near terminal lackanookie, I would have wanted her anyway.

Keeping on eye on the TV, she stretched her hand to me. “Sally,” she said.

“Rizzo,” I answered. Her hand was soft but with a hint of calluses that indicated to me she worked for a living. “Want a beer?”

“Sure, thanks again.”

The game started again and I wisely decided to stop talking and merely stand close behind her. I could tell she didn’t seem to mind this, as she settled comfortably on her stool and leaned back against me. She crossed her legs, once again apparently indifferent to the fact that her skirt had ridden almost all the way up her thighs. I was hoping she was as conscious as I was about the warmth of her back against my breasts.

Twice I opened my mouth to see if I could delicately approach the subject of my fucking her brains out. Both times I closed it again, deciding to wait since there was only a few more seconds on the clock. This proved to be wise when suddenly Rodney staggered against the bar in front of her. I was impressed with the hardness of his head.

“Hey baby, wanna…” he started.

As it turned out his head wasn’t hard enough. With a muttered, “Not before halftime, asshole,” Sally clunked him on top of the head with her empty beer bottle. He went down just in time for us both to catch the final play. She shrugged her shoulders. “His timing really sucks.”

Since I was in complete agreement with that statement, I nodded. We each sipped our beers for a moment and then I leaned over to her and whispered the words I knew she wanted to hear.

“52 inch rear projection.”

Her eyes widened and she leaned closer to me.

“With surround sound.”

She looked me over from head to toe and moistened her lips. She brought her mouth to my ear and whispered, “If you’ve got a 9 inch strapon its a deal.”

I smiled at her. “How thick you want?”

She hopped off her stool, grabbed her purse and from 8 inches below me commanded, “Let’s go.”

We headed for my car. Its an old Chevy. Like this Sally though, it still looked good. I keep it maintained and the paint job shone. I turned the key and the engine rumbled to life.

“Sounds nice,” She commented to me. “Whatcha got, a small block 350 with custom dual exhausts?”

Oh god, she knows cars too. A femme who loves football, can handle herself and can ID what’s under the hood. I find like one more thing like those about her and Sandra’s crap is gonna be piled in the driveway while I run off with Sally to Ontario and get married.

We got to my apartment in record time. I wanted to make sure we had 60 seconds or so to get to know each other before the second half started. To insure I stayed in her good graces, I flipped the set on immediately on getting through the door.

“Good driving,” Sally complimented me. “We’ve still got 5, maybe 6 minutes before the second half starts. Lets not waste them.” With that she flowed into my arms and wrapped her hands around my neck. I grabbed her ass and lifted her in the air where my mouth met hers.

I tell you what, that woman could kiss. Her tongue drove right into my mouth, curling and wiggling. It slid all over my own tongue and then slowly drew back into her own mouth. I swear I could hear it calling to my own, “This way, follow me.” With no conscious thought my tongue followed into her mouth, where she proceeded to suck the saliva right off it and make me wonder if she was trying alsancak escort to uproot it.

My exploring fingers had discovered one interesting thing about her ass. It wasn’t covered in anything besides her skirt. I knew she had a white lace bra on but apparently had decided not to overburden herself below the waist. Another interesting thing about it, once my hands were completely under her skirt and firmly clutching it, was that 50 or not it was still smooth and firm. Once I got her bent over I knew I was going to enjoy fucking it.

She guessed my curiosity, or perhaps simply elected to explain the obvious. She pulled her mouth away from mine to tell me “I took them off before the game started. I was bound and determined someone was going to have me before the night was over. If it turned out to be in the ladies room I wanted to be ready.” With that she locked her mouth back to mine.

Suddenly we were interrupted by the second half kick off. Sally dropped back to the floor and headed for the TV. I followed, wondering if this meant it would be the end of the game before we got started again. I hoped not, after all, I was hotter than the proverbial two dollar pistol.

Probably I wasn’t going to have to wait. As I followed her I had to carefully step over her blouse, then her bra and finally her skirt. She made a rapid detour through the kitchen reappearing with two beers, already open. How did she do it so fast? She handed me one, raised an eyebrow, and said “Aren’t you overdressed and underequiped?”

As I stood rooted to the floor, she turned and walked to the couch. To the back of the couch to be precise. Taking a deep guzzle of her beer, she carefully leaned over the back of the couch. My paralysis deepened as all I could see was two stocking clad legs in heels and her nice round ass. She whooped, “C’mon damnit! Ain’t got all night.” I couldn’t tell if she was referring to me or to the Cowboys but thought I better get a move on regardless.

I kicked my boots off and rushed to the bedroom. I frantically pulled open drawers until I secured my harness and a promised 9 inch attachment for it. I got my shirt and bra off, and then hopped back out into the living room while trying to get my jeans off and the straps on. Fortunately I had forgone panties also.

Nude except for the harness I walked up behind Sally. I slid my hands over her hips and began rubbing big circles over the firm ass cheeks. I felt the muscles under the skin bunch and I grinned. I knew what she was expecting and didn’t want to disappoint her.

Smack! My right hand rose and fell. SMACK! My left hand followed suit. She moaned and her ass pushed up at me. I gave her a couple more good slaps and figured I had her tenderized. I pressed the head of the strapon against her pussy. I could feel it slide up her, parting her already wet lips.

I paused and shook my hips in a circle. As I had expected, the friction of the head of the dildo led to a flood of her juices that coated it. With one strong heave I drove the entire length of the womancock into her. My hands gripped her hips and pulled her back against me until her now slightly pink ass bounced up against me.

Sally let out a noise that seemed halfway between a scream of delight and a moan of what-the-hell-did-you-just-do-to-me. Her hands were locked on the couch cushions, her knuckles white. Her face was fixed on the TV although I couldn’t tell if she was actually watching the game or not. She was whooping and hollering, but I had already learned that she had a fondness for more than one kind of game.

I drew all the way back until just the head remained in her and then thrust home again. Getting a very satisfactory “Gaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwddddd yesssssss” from her confirmed I was doing things right and I settled into a steady rhythm of pounding her hot pussy. She punched her hips back at me with every stroke, showing those legs had muscles as well as damn attractive curves.

I was enjoying myself. I buca escort do like banging a femme like a screen door in a high wind and she was really helping her own cause with her mingled yells at me and at the Cowboys. I was having such a good time that I missed the signals of her upcoming orgasm. How much internal muscular control Sally had was astoundingly evident when she did come. Her pussy clamped down on the dildo with such force it stopped me in full forward thrust. The end result of that movement was to cram the base inside me and crush my already swollen clit against it and trigger my own coming. I celebrated it by matching her scream with mine and landing another full arm slap to each on her ass cheeks.

As soon as her pussy released my cock I staggered to the end table and grabbed my beer. I swallowed the rest of it and managed to make it to the refrigerator and get two more. Returning to the living room I handed one over the back of the couch to her. Her head tipped back and she chugged the whole thing without drawing a breath. Being polite, I waited until she finished before stepping back up to her. As she tossed the empty bottle on the floor, I pulled her cheeks apart and slammed the dripping dildo up her ass.

Every other time I’ve done that to a femme she screams, begs for mercy and cries. Sally belched deeply and yelled “About damn time!” over her shoulder at me. The entire length of the black shaft disappeared inside her and I began to wonder if the woman had any limits at all.

Apparently she didn’t. Suddenly my cell phone rang from where I had dropped it, keys and other articles on the couch. Without her eyes leaving the screen or her body stopping its rocking against me she grabbed it up and flipped it over her shoulder to me. I was so surprised at her aim I actually caught it.

“Hello?” I managed to pant into the phone.

“Its me.”

For the life of me I could not even think who ‘me’ could possibly be for a few seconds. “Oh, Hi Sandra,” I finally managed to respond.

“I thought I’d catch you there,” she said smugly. I almost looked over my shoulder to see where she was that allowed her to catch me when I heard her go on. “You went to Antoine’s didn’t you?”

Since that was the truth I answered I had.

“Oh the game must really be good. I can hear the noise.”

The noise was in fact Sally yelling loud enough to be heard on the street, “Go damnit go, go damnit go, GO DAMNIT GOOOOOO!” Since the game was on commercial break I was pretty sure this time it concerned only my performance.

“Yeah,” I managed to reply, my teeth clenched to keep from screaming. “Its something alright.”

“I’ll let you go then. I just wanted to tell you I’m here and I’ll be back next week.”

“Okay, I’ll see ya then.”

I snapped the phone shut and returned to pounding Sally’s ass. She had slid back towards me a bit. Looking for a new hold I leaned over her and grabbed her tits. They fit very nicely in my hands and I squeezed them tightly as I fucked us both to glory. This time I came first. This was a very good thing because she came so violently that her bucking hips and grasping hands actually flipped me right over her and onto the couch, still holding her breasts.

“Dayum, that was something,” Sally commented. She walked, still wearing her heels, to the kitchen and returned with yet another two beers. Plopping down next to me on the couch, she passed one to me, mumbled “Mud in your eye,” and leaned against me to watch the game. I managed to feebly untie the straps and stretch out on the couch. Sometime in the fourth quarter I fell asleep.

When I woke up the TV was replaying some long ago college game. I was alone, covering in a light blanket and the lights were dimmed. Fumbling for the lamp, my hand brushed a piece of paper. I turned on the lamp and read the note

“Hey Rizzo,” the note read. “You missed a good finish. Cowboys won in overtime. I’ll lock up behind me. I have a cab on the way. This was fun, lets think about doing it again sometime.”

Amazing. I realized that little middle-aged femme had worn me completely out. That’s never happened before. But I sure hope it will happen again.

(The End)

(Thanks for reading. Feedback is always appreciated. Thank you as always Marian and Dotrice both for comments and suggestions.)