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Message-ID: <63670asstr$1451211006@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: RavensDrkGothic@aol.com
Full-name: RavensDrkGothic
Subject: {ASSM} Football Weekend 1
Lines: 356
Date: Sun, 27 Dec 2015 05:10:06 -0500
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


 
Football Weekend  1
 
 It was a pretty uneventful drive from Connecticut.  The leaves  were 
mostly turned on the trees.  Beautiful this time of the year.   Smiling as I 
anticipate being in New York again.  As beautiful as this road  was, the Hudson 
Valley is a riot of color.  The picturesque vistas  awesome.  And of course 
it was home.  The wistful look on my face  remembering so many happy times.  
Crossing the border into New York, I take  a side road to Brewster and buy 
another Dunkin Donuts coffee.  Patti runs  on Dunkin Donuts.  As I climb out 
of my car, the chill of the morning air,  blows along my legs.  My body 
shivers deliciously at the touch.  A  quick rest stop and another large coffee 
and closer to my home. 
     As I cross over the Hudson River on 84, I  look to the north and wish 
that I had the time to visit; but business  calls.  Driving down 9W through 
Newburgh and then a series of small  hamlets, the road rising sharply, 
climbing up the mountain, the full view of the  Hudson spread below.  Ships 
moving slowly along the waterway.  The  splash of colors off the trees, reflected 
in the white capped waters.  The  car buffeted by the wind on the side of 
the mountain.  Feeling fear and  excitement as I drive this road.  Cursing 
myself as I feel the drops of  sweat, my head filling with fear, looking down, 
as I start to climb down the  high tor.  The road winding back and forth on 
the mountain side.  My  breathing slow and labored, fear gripping me and 
then finally the road sliding  away from the edge.  A sigh of relief, as I 
tested myself again against my  fear, and lost.  Smiling ruefully.
    My thoughts going back to the conversation with my  brother, the chit 
chat, my heart wishing I might visit my family again.  He  always brings 
those longings to me.  Then the mention of a very old friend  of his that was 
looking for someone to go to a football game with him.   Retired Army Colonel, 
former West Point graduate.  I remember him from  visiting my brother.  In 
from middle America to attend the West Point-Notre  Dame game.  He was 
always a pleasant man and not ugly, giggling at the  thought.  Shorter than me by 
a good 3 or 4 inches.  No heels,  remember, no heels.
    My instructions very clear on what I was to wear  for the game, this 
game anyway.  Sundays game nothing special.  Not  every weekend you get to mix 
business with pleasure.   Giants-Dallas. 
    Looking ahead, I was lucky to come in the back way  to the Post, a 
short line moving slowly at the gate.  As I pull up to the  reinforced concrete 
barriers, the MP's walk alongside my car.  I opened my  window and popped my 
trunk as they looked inside, the one had a cute looking  german shepard, 
but it wasn't interested in being petted, was all  business.  The security of 
the former open post had changed drastically  since 9/11, as it has all 
over.  Waving me on, I followed the signs  directing me to the Thayer Hotel.  
Parking across the street, I called on  my cell phone and George answered.  
Saying that he would meet me in the  lobby.  Again, feeling the nip of the 
late Autumn air, I grabbed my  overnight bag and walked across to the entrance.
    As you would expect with West Point, everything was  old style and very 
staid.  The furniture looking like an old hotel, smiling  as I realize it 
is like some of the lobbies I have been it: but that it was  spotless and 
clean, not shoddy and filthy.  A swirl of activity as men and  women in uniform 
and casual dress milled around the large open room.   Waiting, I unbuttoned 
my coat.  The room warm and elegant and so  impersonal.  Watching the 
elevator bank in the far corner, I smiled at a  few passing folks and said hello. 
 Turning at a light touch on my shoulder,  "Good morning Patrice."  A quick 
kiss on the cheek and  a   hug.  His strong arms pulling me tight to him 
for a moment.  A bit of  chit chat, about Poughkeepsie and my brother as we 
took an elevator to his  room.  Pushing the door open, he guided me into his 
room and set my bag on  an old wingback chair.  The room so decorated, I 
would guess late 1800's or  early 1900's, sort of like many of the old mansions 
where I was brought  up.  Modern conveniences hidden with the older 
furniture. 
    Turning at a sound behind me, I see a woman coming  out of the bedroom. 
 "This is my wife, Debbie,,,,,,,Debbie this is  Patti.  Debbie a round 
faced woman, glasses short dark blond hair, a smile  on her face, as she walks 
over, her robe showing her ankles and a twinkling of  knee as she walked. 
Somewhat shocked, well not expecting her, I kiss her  cheek, and feel her lips 
slide to the side, touching mine.  Her eyes bright  and a pale blue, as I 
feel her press against me in a hug.  "Take your coat  off hon."  her words 
encouraging.  Sliding out of my coat, I lay it on  the back of a chair, as I 
stand looking from Geroge to Debbie.  I know they  are looking at me and my 
attire.  It is not slutty, actually sort of  milfy.  Well wifey maybe. A black 
green and blue tartan wool skirt,  falling to a few inches above me knees, 
black stirrup thigh warmers, a pair of  matching tartan wool socks ending 
below my knees.  Would normally not wear  the thigh warmers and socks both; 
but been to football games this time of the  year here.  Brrrrrrrrrrrrhhhh.  A 
pair of brown flats.  An  emerald green button blouse, with a matching 
tartan vest.  Of course a wool  scarf to match.  And a black tam. 
    Oh, I am light brown just over the shoulder  hair, contacts today, but 
lots of times glasses, nose maybe a little big, as is  my mouth in both 
ways.  Smiling, tall for a woman, 5"10", hmmmm, well about  150 #s,  
proportions, not quite even.  Breasts on the smaller side,  but hips, well bigger.  
Legs pretty nice I think.  And for those that  must know, shaven.
    Debbie twirls her hand in the air, and I do a slow  twirl, skirt 
flaring a bit at the hem.  Then walking over, her hand moves  to my stomach 
pressing on it for a moment, as a finger slides up between the  buttons of my 
blouse.  I feel the fingernail touching the bottom of my bare  breast, stroking 
it with the pad, then sliding free.  Nodding her head,  "good". Her hands 
sliding to my waist, and then caressing my flanks,  sliding down to pull my 
skirt up in back, her hands warm as they touch  the my panty covered cheeks, 
then slide around in front, just  grazing my mound.  Letting my skirt fall 
back in place.  Shaking her  head with a small smile on her lips, "the panties 
have to go dear."   Extending her hand, I lift my skirt and slide the 
panties down over my hips,  stepping out of them, handing them to her.  Casually 
as I watch she  lifts them to her mouth and nose, sniffs then tosses them to 
her husband.   Looking over to George, whom I forgot about, I watch as he 
lifts them to his  nose and sniffs, tongue licking at the crotch.
    Never though of him as a sexual person the few  times I had met him.  
Turning my eyes back to Debbie as she sits down, the  robe falling open to 
expose a white stretch of leg.  The inside of one  thigh exposed for a moment 
as she crosses her legs.  Settling the ends of  the robe on her legs. The 
neckline of her robe exposing the inside tops of  her full breasts.  The 
gossamer material of her robe, showing the small  bumps of her nipples as she 
leans back against the chair.  Standing there a  bit confused, as no mention 
was made of a woman.  Looking back and forth  and then sitting across from the 
woman, George pouring a cup of coffee, nodding  to him as he lifts the 
creamer.  "I understand you do like football my  dear, I think it will be a most 
enjoyable game.  We need to dress, but sit  back and enjoy your coffee."
    Moving to a seat by the window, I look down onto  the almost campus 
like look of the Post.  The leaves falling from the  abundance of trees.  The 
grayish clouds, dulling the brightness of the  foliage.  The wind devils 
grabbing a pile of leaves and swirling them  across the rolling lawn.  Watching 
out of the corner of my eye, the open  doorway to the bedroom and the bath.  
Seeing the change of clothing and  half dressed bodies as they move back 
and forth in my view.  The normal  husband wife chatter as they prepare for 
the outing.  Finally George  dressed walking over and pouring a coffee, 
joining me at the window seat.   His hand resting comfortably on my thigh, slowly 
moving on top of the woolen  skirt.  Round face, handsome, receding 
hairline, touch of gray.   Showing that time has padded his frame a little.  Dressed 
in slate gray  woolen slacks, a black woolen shirt, with the West Point 
insignia on it,  the neckline of his gray teeshirt exposed.  Black shoes. 
    "So, Patti, here is the deal."  Watching him,  my breathing fairly 
steady, not sure what the next words might be.  Debbie  and I want you accompany 
us to the game, as you know, and stay and keep Debbie  company afterwards.  
I have to meet with some friends for the evening at  the Officers Club, 
boring stuff for Debbie."  Pausing for a few seconds,  his hand moving to cup 
my knee, squeezing it firmly.  Fingers warm and full  of strength.  A flutter 
in my stomach.  "Tomorrow, I would like you to  accompany us to the 
Giant-Dallas game.  Does that sound all right  Patti?"  Nodding my head, "sounds 
fine to me, let me know what you require  of me."
    Debbie finally comes out wearing a long skirt,  buttoned down the 
front, heavy sweater, soft black leather boots, ending  somewhere above the maxi 
length skirt.  As she stands, her husband, holds a  heavy wool coat for her, 
 buttoning it, she flamboyantly swings a scarf  around her neck.  Putting 
on a black bomber jacket and a West Point ball  cap, we are ready to go.  
Grabbing my hand, Debbie leads me out to the  elevator.  A heavy blanket under 
one arm, we catch a bus to the stadium, a  milling crowd, as George leads 
the way his ID, allows us to a special entrance  for VIPS.  The cursory check 
of person and baggage and into the  stadium.  A few hellos and short 
conversations and finally to the  seats.  Debbie holding my arm tight to her as we 
weave through the  crowd.  Nice view, the 40 yard line, 15 rows up from the 
field.  As we  settle in, Debbie and I, George goes and buys some hot dogs 
and beers, soda for  Debbie.  Sipping and waiting, feeling comfortable; but a 
bit unsure at the  moment, enjoying the patter of conversation about home 
and people that we  know.  George on my left closest to the aisle and Debbie 
on my left.
    Finally the kickoff and the game.  The  pageantry of the military and 
the chanting of massed people in unison is an  awesome feeling.  Gave me 
chills, so did the temperature in the  stands.  George enthusiastic and Debbie 
passive as the game moved  along.  Each score by Army and the stadium went 
wild.  Sitting there  my arm entwined with Debbie. 
    The second cup of beer, causing me to squeeze my  legs tight together, 
as  I needed to pee.  I enjoy the beer, but  having to go always so 
inconvenient, especially at a large gathering.   Excusing myself, I started to rise, 
when Debbie put her hand on my arm, reaching  into a pocket, she pulled out 
a small package and handed it to me.   Whispering to me, her warm breath in 
my ear, "open it when you are in the  stall", a smile on her lips, "you 
will know what to do." Taking it and  tucking it into a pocket of my jacket, I 
climb the steps, feeling a bit self  conscious as usual.  The wind more 
noticeable when people aren't close  around you.  Feeling the cool air, sliding 
up my skirt, touching the bare  upper thighs and the area between, shivering 
with my need to pee and the cool  caress of "mother nature".  Seats close 
to the field are nice, unless you  need to climb a million row to get to the 
auxiliary area for refreshments and  relief.
    As I look around at the top of the stairs I spot  the sign for 
restrooms, Ladies.  And as my eyes read the word, my legs  squeeze involuntarily, 
the need now urgent.  Quickly walking to the room,  dodging a few people that 
seem to stop right where you are walking, and into the  welcomed sanctuary 
of the rest area. Thankful for no line on the outside  and only a few 
awaiting stalls on the inside.  Looking at myself in the  mirror, examining the 
face and lines of a middle aged women, myself.   Almost forty is middle aged, 
isn't it.  Trying not to think of my need, as  one and then another women 
find an empty stall.  Finally my steps a little  jerky as I gain my cubicle.  
Taking my coat off and hanging it on a real  hook.  Amazed at that.  Then 
taking a wipe and opening it and wiping  around the seat, another one doing the 
edges, feeling guilty as I drop it into  the bowl.  Smiling how in the 
past, I have knelt in worse stalls then  this. 
    Feeling the urgent need, now overriding my  facetious habits.  Turning 
quickly to lift my skirt and sit quickly on the  plastic seat, the need for 
cleanliness quickly forgotten as my enjoyable Dunkin  Donuts coffees and the 
beers quickly are expelled into the waiting water.   The sound loud to my 
ears, almost painful as I try to control the pressure,  hands crossed on my 
thighs, as the stream of sound and water slow to a small  stream and then 
some forced drops.  The pressure of my stomach relaxed, as  my hand reaches for 
some tissue, another wipe and then tissue again.   Carefully checking my 
knitted leg warmers and skirt to see if I splashed them in  some way.  
Standing, let my skirt drop, settling it around my hips, snug at  waist and hips, 
flaring below.  Reaching for my coat, thinking of what the  rest of the day 
might bring, hearing the roar of the crowd and then the sound of  the stall 
next to me being used.  Shivering at the sound.  Thinking I  never asked 
Debbie if she needed or wanted to go. 
    Then remembering her package.  Reaching into  the pocket, pulling out 
the small velour bag.  Feeling it heavy for its  size.  Opening it, I pull 
out a piece of white cloth, unwrapping it I find  a set of clips and a small 
metal egg.  Would be nice, if I was either  shocked or unable to recognize 
what they were and their use.  Unfortunately  not that innocent.  Putting the 
open bundle back in the pocket of my coat,  I hung it again on the hook on 
the door.  Fingers fumbling for the buttons  of my blouse, feeling an ache as 
I open it wide.  Reaching into the  pocket again, fumbling for the clips 
and opening them, the teeth evenly  serrated, fingers rubbing on my left 
nipple.  The tip hardening, aching at  my touch, then moving the alligator clip 
over my nipple, releasing it to feel  the bite of the teeth on my sensitive 
nipple, a soft moan of pain, eyes  watering, then repeating on my right 
nipple, already cringing at the expectant  touch of the sharp teeth.  My legs 
weak for a moment as the teeth slowly  bite into the flesh the pain steady, 
then taking my hands and pressing  tighter.  Small gold rings on each clip, 
hanging loosely at the  moment.  Reaching into the pocket again, as i sit down 
on the seat of the  toilet.  Spreading my legs, feeling the lips a bit 
puffy, as my finger  moves between, feeling the moisture on the inside, finger 
parting the  lips.  Taking the egg and inserting it into my open tunnel, 
pressing it  deeper with a finger, feeling it against the walls, then squeezing 
my legs  closed, trying to clench it inside of me.  Reaching one last time 
into the  pocket and taking out the small white cloth.  Trying to pull it up 
my legs,  without losing the metal egg, finally taking the slimy egg out of 
my pussy and  putting it in the pouch, then sliding the small band of cloth 
up my legs, the  thin string  of elastic sliding over my hips, the triangle 
of cloth  positioned over my vulva.  This time pulling the patch of cloth 
aside and  pushing the small egg into my dark, warm, moist tunnel.  The clamps 
a dull  ache on my nipples.  My breathing a little ragged as I rearrange my  
clothing.  Putting on my coat, my thoughts confused and distracted.   
Wiping tears from my eyes.
    Walking back to the seats, wondering if I am  walking differently, if 
everyone knows.  Reaching into my coat and  pressing on the clamp on my left 
nipple, fingers toying with it, as I walk  carefully down the steps to the 
seats.  Sliding past the people in the row,  feeling George's hand steadying 
my hips as I passed in front of him.  Then  sitting down in my seat, George 
handing another cup of beer to me, "drink up  girl".  Looking at him trying 
to read his thought, then turning to  Debbie.  "Is everything okay Patti?  
Her words soft as her eyes hold  mine.  "Yes", my word meek and soft, a small 
cloud of air exhaled with  it.
    "You have something for me Patti?"  The  question even but commanding.  
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the  small remote, the only item left 
in the pouch.  "Will you give it to me or  keep it patti?"  Un thinking, my 
hand extends and hands the remote into the  warm hands of Debbie.  "Thank you 
girl."  My body twitches in the  seat, as the exchange is completed.  
Waiting expectantly, my eyes watching  Debbie's hand.  Then slowly, deliberately 
she puts her hand in the pocket  of her coat.  Withdrawing it, she lifts my 
hand to her mouth, kissing it  softly and inhaling.  Smiling.  "You forgot 
to wash, didn't you patti  girl."  The statement hanging in the chilly air. 
    My face heating with the words, wondering whom  else heard them.  My 
breath slowing as I try to hold it, afraid to breath,  listening intently to 
all around me, wondering who know what the exchange  means.  Shivering as I 
sit, a beer in one hand, sipping it slowly, looking  down as I feel Debbie 
spreading the blanket across our laps, extending it to  George.  Him pushing 
it away, tucking it against my thigh.  My  thoughts mixed as I watch the 
game, the excitement of the crowd standing for an  Army touchdown.  Then a gasp, 
as I feel the egg in my body, coming to life,  vibrating inside of me.  
Eyes opening wide in unexpected shock.   Feeling Debbie hand on my arm, holding 
me, letting me know she is aware of the  cause of my sudden "discomfort".  
The vibration lasting short seconds, but  my body feeling the affect long 
after it finished.  Debbie leaning to me,  whispering in my ear. 
    "Pull the blanket up girl," reaching it pull it  around me tucking it 
around my shoulders, shivering close against Debbie, two  women cold, doing 
their duty of attending a stupid game.   "Open your  coat, and blouse dear 
girl."  My fingers reaching to the buttons, my coat  and then my blouse, 
sliding them to the side, my chest exposed beneath the  blanket.  Feeling her 
fingers on my stomach, my flesh quivering with  sensation, my breasts, nipples 
aching again.  Biting my lower lip, as my  chest heaves in slow steady 
expulsion of frosty air.  Her fingers moving  higher, touching the soft flesh of 
my breast, leaning forward in the seat,  pressing the hand to my small orb.  
"Look at me hon."  Her eyes turned  to me, watching as her fingers press on 
the clamp of my left nipple, nail  scratching the tip as she tugs on the 
small ring.   Nostrils flaring  at the pain, my legs squeezing as I feel a 
grain of pleasure, my right hand  sliding down to my lap, pressing my skirt, 
finger hard on the nub of my  clit.  My eyes widening as I feel the pleasure, 
trying to hide it, but the  soft moan escapes my lips. 
    "You okay?"  My head turning to look at  George, the blanket slipping 
on my shoulders, sliding down to expose my open  neck.  Panicking as the 
blanket slides further down, the top of my breasts  exposed, my hands reaching 
to pull it back up.  Releasing my breast, Debbie  leans across and whispers 
in George's ear, as she does, my body jerks with the  sudden vibration deep 
inside of me.  Wondering to myself as I sit stiffly  in my seat, trying not 
to move, but feeling my thighs sliding on the seat,  shifting as the 
vibrations tease me.  My legs now sticky as my wetness,  oozes out of my clenched 
thighs, fingers again pressing on my clit, rubbing the  wool on the sensitive 
pearl, feeling my stomach quivering as my fingers  press harder, then 
suddenly the vibration stops.  Inhaling deeply, I relax  my muscles.  My finger 
still rubbing my clit.  Then the feel of a hand  covering mine, pressing on my 
mound, then sliding down to push my skirt up, my  thighs feeling the cooler 
air, the warm fingers touching my upper thighs, the  exposed flesh, eyes 
closed as I feel the finger touch my swollen lips, tracing  them, my legs 
splaying open to the sides.  The small patch of material,  soaked with my 
juices.  The finger pushing under, then between my lower  lips, my hips raising as 
I feel the lips parted, the finger pressing  deeper.  Then the egg being 
moved in me, not by vibration, but the questing  finger. 
    Opening my eyes, I see George looking down at my  lap, then he pulls 
the blanket to cover himself.  I hear a whisk of sound  and then his hand 
touches mine and move my hand to his lap.  His organ,  lies on the rough wool of 
his trousers, semi-aroused.  Pulsing in a crazy  circle, then stiffening as 
my fingers touch the warmth of his flesh.   Holding it in my hand, it 
slowly push open my fingers, not able to encircle the  hard shaft.  My hand 
slides along the thick veined flesh, till the reach  the mushroom head.  
Thumbnail, rubbing the underside of the gland.   Feeling it thickening in my grasp, 
wishing that I might better position my  fingers, but holding down the 
shaft, as my fingers slide along it.  Feeling  it hot and pulsing, George 
shifting in his seat.
    A voice in my ear whispers, "wouldn't  you  like to feel that against 
your lips, filling your mouth.  Emptying the  sweet seed into your mouth.  Or 
would you rather have it pumping in your  nasty pussy.  The head seeking 
your womb, wanting to shoot its seed deep  into you."  Again a quick few 
second vibration to punctuate the  words.
    For a long minute or two my fingers and nails pump  and scratch the 
turgid organ, then I feel Georges hand reach up and cover the  top of his cock, 
I can feel the pump of seed as his cock swells and empties the  cum from 
his ball sack.  Waiting, I feel the cock softening in my grasp,  the 
definition of veins lost and the organ curling into a small worm.  His  hand wiping 
at the tip and then tucking his cock into his pants.  My hand  now grasping a 
wadded handkerchief.  Debbie's hand under the blanket pushes  into the cum 
filled cloth and wipes the moisture on my chest and stomach, then  against 
my upper thighs and under the thong to my puffy lips, pressing the  finger 
between my lips.
    Sitting quietly, with the occasional  the game  winds down, and people 
start leaving the stands.  Army crushed Notre  Dame.  Debbie turns to me, 
leaning to my ear, "time to get ready to go  girl."  Her fingers move over my 
chest and pinch at the right nipple  clamp.  The teeth open and release from 
the flesh, a quick quiet gasp, her  nail, flicking at the blood starved 
nipple.  Tears filling my eyes, as the  blood returns,  the pain intense, as 
her fingernail, keeps pressing on the  abused nipple.  My quickened breath 
slows, the pain again dull.  Then  her fingers caress my left breast, releasing 
the cruel bite of the tiny  alligator teeth.  Again my eyes tear, my legs 
squeezing tight  together.  The pain and pleasure mixing in my body, my mind 
focused on the  pinprick of pleasure.  My hands still resting in my lap, 
wanting so badly  to touch my nipples.
    Leaning to kiss my lips, Debbie whispers, "you may  cover yourself up 
dear, don't want you to catch a chill."  My fingers  raise and quick button 
my blouse, tucking it into my skirt, then reluctantly, I  button the coat, 
feeling the ache in my breasts.  The rest of the game  uneventful, as Debbie 
laid with her head against my shoulder, hand resting  in my lap. 
    Walking back up the stairs and to the waiting  buses, my steps looking 
like those of a drunken sailor, as I would suddenly  weave and falter, the 
sensation of the egg, bringing my nerves to a ragged  edge.  My hand clenched 
into fists in my coat pockets, trying not to touch  myself in public, 
wanting so badly to give myself a much needed release.   Teased by the, "are you 
okay" as each time I felt the egg, moving inside of  me.  Debbie, holding my 
arm as we climb off the bus and walk into the  lobby.  "Take off your coat 
girl and carry it".  Sliding it off  my shoulders, I feel my body swaying as 
I walked across the lobby to the  elevators, the vibrations weakening my 
legs, nearly buckling them.  Nails  biting into my hands as I try not to 
falter. 
    As we climb into the elevator for the ride to the  room, I can feel a 
hand reach around from behind and rub against my tortured  lips, massaging 
cruelly the outside, my body pushing against the hand rubbing on  it.  The 
ride seeming to last forever.  Then finally the bell for our  floor, walking 
woodenly down the corridor to the room.  The card key light  flashing 
green..................
    
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