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Message-ID: <63005asstr$1405246236@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: The Bawdy Bloke <john@bawdybloke.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Team Victory (MF, Spank, flash)
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Date: Sun, 13 Jul 2014 06:10:36 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

I've written a number of stories on my blog recently, and have been a 
little lax about posting them to the Newsgroups. As ever, I would love 
opinions and feedback as to what I have done right or wrong.
My site is http://bawdybloke.com
Thanks.
* * * * *
Her hair fluttered in the wind as the naked woman streaked across the 
stadium. Her right arm held tight across her bare breasts, the other 
hiding her shaved slit in vain. She was sexy; the crowd screaming 
delight as the cheerleaders were stripped one by one and decorated in 
splodges of orange bodypaint - the colour of the victorious team.

Our colours. Our team.

They shrieked as their slow movement across the sodden ground drew 
clumps of mud from the boggy pitch into the air. Her calves were 
splattered with brown drops, her feet as dark as the sky above.

But she was running to me; man of the match always got the first pick of 
the girls and I had chosen her. Cheering for our nemesis was a sin that 
would yield punishment on her shivering behind. It was part of our 
reward for winning the game.

The crowd expected it. They wanted to see warriors competing, and the 
ravishing of the women was part of the game. The wind swirling through 
the open stadium whistled over the hairs on the back of my neck, as 
nerves fluttered in my stomach.

Going first was always a responsibility. Last month, the Falcons' 
goalkeeper struggled to perform after his three penalty saves denied the 
Harriers. While the crowd waited for the Harriers cheerleader to be 
violated and she waited for the devouring of her luscious maidenhood, 
his erection withered. Unable to meet the pressure of expectation. She 
stood, naked in the rain, howling abuse at him, as her lust went 
unsated. He shrank in despair as he went from hero of the hour to the 
butt of everyone's jokes. "Do a Falcon" is now slang for sexual 
inadequacy. It's cruel, I know. So very cruel.

But going first was a responsibility I relished. She look so 
insignificant compared to the storm brewing overhead. Her eyes were 
soaked in anticipation, the crowd baying for her legs to be parted. They 
demanded a show and the football was only one part of it. They came to 
see the spectacle of a rampaging sports team having fun on and off the 
field. They wanted to see debauchery and desire, fight and fucking. They 
lived for the raw passion.

And I was going to give it to the paying fans. My paying fans. She 
approached the small stage at the front of the stand tentatively. She 
was new, I had not seen her at previous games, and she did not know me; 
the rules stated I could do what I wanted from a smorgasbord of sinful 
delights. From the first touch to the last could be no more than twenty 
minutes. We got anal in cup finals, oral only in friendlies.

She exhaled the moment my hand grabbed hold of her wrists. Her legs 
parted the moment I pushed her onto the soft wedge, sliding my hands up 
her mud-splattered calves.

Her velvety skin was lined with a film of sweat, punctuated with orange 
paint and filthy dirt. A warming spank across her backsides tensed her 
muscles, another had her groaning. She was so vulnerable, captivated by 
apprehension. Her body was shivering with anticipation: she knew she was 
there to be fucked: defiled in front of the watching men who she had 
loyally supported and whose failure was the cause of her predicament. 
They were a few feet away.

Maybe it was her brother who played for the losers, maybe her boyfriend, 
but they were forced to endure the sight of their women taken by the 
better men.

My cock solidified as my palm wrapped against her immobile buttocks: the 
sounds of her slapping flesh carrying over the loudspeaker.

There was some impatient heckling. But the crowd knew I would impale the 
delicious beauty on my cock and a subtle feel of her sex showed me she 
was ready. My shorts fell to my knees; her lips parted to the feel of my 
blunt cock, spearing into her moist warmth with effortless ease.

She pushed her face into the foam: many of the girls did, eager to hide 
from the humiliation but groaning as their gushing pussies swept into 
repeated orgasms from the fill of a victorious warrior's prick. "Nice?" 
I cried, more a statement, than a question. "Play with yourself."

She froze as my fingers pinched her bum into an agonising squeal, 
forcing her into compliance. She would orgasm: the public degradation, 
the sheer depravity and the rampant thrusting against her G-Spot would 
force her into a climax. A handful of thrusts would send her arousal 
into to the stratosphere, unable to fight the pleasure for a moment longer.

She was new: the more experienced girls would revel in their pounding; 
almost wishing for their team to lose so we could force the sort of 
pleasure from their tired bodies that they could never get away from the 
football stadium.

But she was new, squealing and writhing as she buried her face into the 
giant wedge. Her fingers swirled over her clit, touching my cock as I 
rammed it into her. Her lust was swimming, her pussy spasmed as 
thousands of people encouraged me to hammer her cunt until she was 
exhausted and drained.

They wanted me to fill her cunt with my seed, to stamp my victory on the 
opposing team, and to have her forever remember the day her boys lost to 
their greatest rivals. They wanted to see her struggle with the 
humiliation, yet love the feelings in her cunt as my cock had her mind 
drunk with lust.

But she was already there, her pussy quivering as her deep pants and 
orgasmic cries filled the stadium: the crowd cheered, our opponents 
looked away. But I was not finished, slowly and deeply sliding my cock 
between her thighs and into her tight cunt.

She was climaxing again. Her fingers rubbed quicker and quicker as the 
feint drops of rain cascaded onto us. She jolted from the shock: the 
cold liquid sending shivers down her spine as orgasm after orgasm swept 
through her ravished body, until I felt myself reach my point of no 
return and a wave of relief powered through me.

She was the enemy, groaning and writhing on the end of my cock, as I 
held my prick deep into her cunt and unloaded several spurts of my cum. 
I stepped back, admiring the gentle pink hue on her buttocks with a 
stream of white pearlescent cum on her thighs. Two other naked girls 
were streaking across the field to my teammates as my girl returned my 
flickering smile and walked down the stage to her team.

She picked their goalkeeper and sat back on a chair: the second part of 
the humiliation, as it was the turn of the defeated men to give oral to 
their cheerleaders. To suck the cum from her well-fucked cunt. Only then 
would our sweet victory be complete.

Some weeks we win, some we lose, but life is always so much fun either way!

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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