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!