American Sportswoman

It was a hot summer afternoon, and by the seventh- inning stretch I was sticky with sweat, my terry-cloth shorts clinging to my crotch. I got up to take a little stroll down by the box seats, and as I stood there I heard a man’s voice say, “You’re Claire, aren’t you?”

Turning around slowly, I saw this short, funny-looking, bald dude wearing an awful, rumpled plaid leisure suit. He chomped a fetid cigar and looked up at me with a lustful stare that bordered on the disgusting. He was such a stereotypical sleaze ball, though, I couldn’t help but chuckle, and although I had a pretty good idea already I asked him how he knew me.

“I saw you in High Society. I gotta say, you’ve got one gorgeous pussy, Claire, but tell me–are you really such a big fan or was that just some bullshit copy they wrote about you?”

I told the guy, whose name was Moe, that of course I was into the team; that’s why I was at the game. At which point he said he’d bet the team would be just as into me if I gave the guys a chance. It turned out that Moe was a sportswriter with lots of connections, but I thought he was lying through his yellow teeth. He invited me to a party that night, promising to introduce me to all the big-league jocks I could handle, and I agreed to go.

As I dressed that night, my cunt was wet with anticipation. My mind was pessimistic, telling me that Moe probably wasn’t even on first-name basis with the bat boy, but my pussy was really optimistic. So I dabbed cologne on all my intimate pulse points and slithered into a tight mini-dress and high heels.

Believe it or not, Moe was true to his word. When I got to the shindig, already in full swing at a fabulous mansion, I was surrounded by more athletes than if I had been a stowaway at a training camp. Moe, who I later figured out was using me to make himself look good with the players, introduced me to a heavenly hunkola who’d scored with me plenty of times in my fantasies.

When I shook his hand, I felt my cunt lips swell and a trickle of fluid stream out between my legs. I didn’t want to appear too anxious, but the stud could see right through me; his smile told me so. He made me his property for the night immediately, but to my enormous pleasure I soon found out he wasn’t the possessive type at all.

Everything at the party was first rate, from the caviar to the pate shaped like a Louisville Slugger to the champagne. I’d gotten so giddy, I just grabbed a bottle of bubbly and started guzzling it as if it were a beer. One of my super-hunk’s teammates caught sight of that and gave us both the high sign. He walked over, smacked his buddy on the back and stared down the low-cut neckline of my dress. “I like a woman who can handle her liquor,” he said.

Feeling bold and beautiful, I told him I could handle a lot more than my liquor. Both guys took it as a challenge and I was up to any dare. I let them lead me up the elegant marble staircase and into one of the large bedrooms, giggling like a mischievous little kid.

Next thing I knew, they were all over me, their strong hands expertly working me out of my clothes and into a state of insane, cock-hungry lust. “Mmmm, gimme, gimme!” I cried as they hurriedly stripped. We were all pretty drunk, and one of the dudes tripped over his bunched-up pants and went tumbling onto the bed.

With a horny howl, I pounced on him, diving into his crotch with my mouth. Gobbling and slobbering over his large, purple veined love tool, I was in paradise. Then, when I felt his buddy grab my ass and pull open my pussy lips, I knew I had landed on an as-yet- undiscovered pleasure planet. With the hard, throbbing cock deep down my throat, I came with a gurgle the instant the other raging dick plunged into I WAS BUCKING MY my slick snatch. “Watch it, HIPS AND BOBBING MY Claire! You’ll bite my dick HEAD IN PERFECT off!” said the guy I was SYNCOPATION, AND sucking. I let his cock slide SOON, BOTH OF THEIR from my open mouth but didn’t GORGEOUS GEYSERS let go with my hands. We all BEGAN TO ERUPT! maneuvered up on the bed about a foot so the suckee could lean against the headboard and enjoy a better view of me licking and slurping his rod while his pal rammed me from the rear.

I recovered from my first orgasm and was ready for the next, babbling incoherently about how much I loved them, loved their cocks, thirsted for their hot, sticky cum. What I needed to send me into orbit, naturally, was the incredible feeling of them coming simultaneously in my slit and splashing down my throat. I got the rhythm down right, bucking my hips and bobbing my head in perfect syncopation.

I felt the one dude’s fingers gripping my fleshy, white rump while the other guy pulled my hair. Yes, I could feel it, both of their gorgeous geysers about to erupt. And when they did, at exactly the same time, I started to come again. My lips relinquished the spurting cock, and the cum flew all over my face, titties and hair. The guy fucking me seemed to have an endless supply, and his gobs of goo gushed out of my gaping slot after he pulled out.

We all turned into a heaving heap on the bed, laughing and sweaty and slimy. “You’re a mess, Claire,” said the guy I had sucked off. He traced a bit of the cum on my tit with his finger, drawing it down to my belly, then mingling it with the joy juice still spilling from my snatch. “You better get cleaned up,” he told me. So I rose, despite my trembling knees, to go to the bathroom.

“No, no, no. I’ve got a better way to get you clean!” he announced wickedly. Then he gave a growling yawn and went to the closet of the bedroom. He tossed on a robe, smiled broadly, and said he’d be right back. I asked his buddy what was going on, and he just started tickling me and laughing lewdly.

In less than a minute, our third was back–with a fourth. Our hostess, a fourtish woman with a fabulous tan and big, sagging jugs, entered the room with him. “Alice, Claire made a real pig of herself in here. Better straighten things up before your husband catches on,” instructed the stud, who took off the robe and got back into bed with us.

There was a devilish, devouring look in the older woman’s eyes. You would have thought she was a real uptight matron or at least a very civilized and wealthy married lady if you’d seen her downstairs on her old man’s arm, but as she unbuttoned her blouse and took it off I knew she was a sex animal. She liked to do it to young girls like me as well as hung young hunks like her athletic guests. Naked, she climbed on the bed saying, “Is that cum still warm, honey? I’m gonna lick that love juice out of your hole!”

She went down on me–the first time I’d ever had a woman touch me–as the guys enjoyed the sight. Soon both of their cocks were aroused again, and I took one in each hand as the silver-haired whore slurped my pussy juice and the last remnants of sperm. In no time, I was shooting lady liquid again, thrusting my hips against her wild, wet mouth as the men cheered, “Suck, Alice, suck!”

For the next hour, we all fucked around in more positions than I thought humanly possible! Then the guys put on swim shorts and went down to the pool with the other guests who’d gone for a midnight dip while Alice led me to a bathroom so I could shower. My cunt was sore but tingling like hell as I lathered it gently. The only thing I couldn’t wash away was the silly smile on my face.

I had loved every rough and raunchy minute of that wild orgy, and I was glad, not only because I had lived out a fantasy but because I knew I’d have every opportunity to do it again. I’d gotten in with some heavy people in the pro-sports world that night, and since Pop didn’t raise no fool, I knew I’d exploit it to the max!

Since then, Alice helped me get a job for a prestigious public relations agency that represents lots of sports figures. I’ve not only met, but sucked and fucked hordes of hunks. Once I even let Moe, the little creep who brought me to Alice’s first party, watch while I sucked off a number one contender!