Author Note:  OK, story two for me...lesbian theme.  Enjoy, as always.

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I was walking across the soccer field toward the car with my two oldest kids, chit-chatting about this and that, looking forward to a relaxing end of the day.  As we approached the parking lot we came upon the softball fields and my son said to me "I thought you said girls played softball and boys played baseball?"

"Yeah, that's normally the way it goes, why?" I replied.

"Well, because look - there are guys and girls playing on that team over there."

I looked over at the group gathering to play and instantly realized that I was about to enter a topic of conversation I was hoping to avoid for at least another year or two.  "No sweetie, those are all girls...or women, actually.  Its just, well, some women like to dress and act a certain way that...well, kinda makes them look a little like boys".

Wow, was this uncomfortable.  How do you explain the terms 'butch' and 'dyke' and 'lesbian' to a couple of pre-teen kids?  I mean, honestly, there were a ton of them gathering on the field, and it was not easy to ignore.  My town seemed to have no shortage of them, for whatever reason, but it had never bothered me before.  But now, having to try and explain this in some rational way to the kids was leaving me flustered and at a loss for words.

As I continued to stare at the group and consider how best to explain this all, I suddenly started to realize that the group, almost as a whole, had turned and was staring back at me.  'oh fuck' I thought, 'I'm making an ass of myself staring at them and now they're pissed.'  But after shaking out of my thought cloud after a spell, I realized the staring back was not so much out of anger as it was ... what?  lust?  'OMG, they're checking me out!'

Now, I must say, this whole "being checked out and hit on" is a bit new to me.  I was rather plain for most of my life, and only recently got my act together.  Shedding the mommy weight came the sudden freedom and desire to start wearing whatever I wanted again.  I turned from a "sweet 30-something Mommy with a pretty face" to, I must admit, a pretty hot MILF who looked ten years younger than a year ago.  So, yeah, I switched from wearing oversized shirts and sweats with running shoes to size 4 Lucky Brand jeans, tight tanktops, heels and ...yes, lots and lots of pretty thongs.  Yeah, I teased my hair up, tanned my skin, put on makeup and added glitzy jewelry.  And more often than not, when meeting someone I hadn't seen in a year or two, they would literally not know who I was.  Quite the transformation.

And with that transformation came a fair bit of interest from the opposite sex, interest I always begged off by saying that I had a wonderful husband waiting for me at home.  But this, this I didn't expect.  The women out there on the field seemed to be looking at me like a piece of candy, a sweet treat they couldn't wait to wrap their lips around.  Needless to say, this was more unnerving than thinking they were angry at me.

Just as I suspected that my face could not turn any more shades of red, I heard from just off to the side and behind me 'Hey you' in this sweet, lilting voice, dripping with all the familiarity of a long-time friend and the subtle hint of a fresh new lover.

I turned to see this lovely, sweet vision of a woman in pink, the slow setting sun seemingly creating a hazy glow around her.  Top to bottom, she was sweet and cute, with her pink visor, blonde hair pony-tailed and popping out of the top, pink and white t-shirt and shorts, and tall white socks with pink piping tucked into pink and black softball cleats.  Her bright and shining smile was offset by gorgeous glossy pink lipstick, and she even had those little strips of black under her eyes, making her, essentially, "Softball Barbie".

Her smile never waned as I stared back at her, struggling for recognition of who this was, until all was interrupted by my young daughter rushing to her with arms outstretched saying 'Ms. Norris'.  A-ha, her 4th grade teacher!  Wow, did she look different when she wasn't wearing her standard "teacher's outfits".  First off, she was showing a lot more skin, with her long tanned legs and really soft, smooth skin on her bare arms and shoulders.  And she looked like she smelled really yummy, not like the antiseptic and chalk dust aura she had whenever I saw her in the classroom, but like....well, like cotton candy. In short, quite the 'babe', if that was your sort of thing....which, judging by my run through the gauntlet moments ago, there were lots for whom this was exactly their 'sort of thing'.

After getting over the initial embarrassment of not knowing who she was, we settled down to a quick and easy banter, talking about this and that and nothing in particular.  When my son pointed out that it was getting late, Rebecca, 'Ms. Norris' to the kids, asked if we could stay and maybe watch some of the game.  I started to beg off, not really caring to sit in the heat and dying light to watch a bunch of women run around the bases.  But, with one little pout from Rebecca, I reluctantly agreed but knew that the kids would have to head home to finish their homework.  So, after a quick call to my husband and a promise to bring home Chinese food for us later, the kids were off to the house and I settled into the stands to watch some 'girl-on-girl' action....ok, that's a tease, but I couldn't help it.

The game was, as I expected, uneventful, though Rebecca tried to make it fun for me by looking over whenever she could, even giving me a wink when she was up to bat before smacking a double down the line.  I cheered, I smiled, I was happy for her as it seemed she was really excited about us doing something outside of school.  It seemed to me, for whatever reason, she didn't belong to a large social circle - it seemed that it was this softball team and the moms she befriended through the school.

After the game I met her at home plate where she was stripping off her gear after spending the last innning behind the plate.  She worked slowly, letting all the other teammates wander off, giving her calls of 'good game', 'see you next time', and queries about plans for the rest of the night.  As she sat with her legs stretched out to either side, unclasping the leg protectors, I got the distinct feeling that she was coyly drawing me in closer and closer with her smile and with her quiet way of chatting.  She seemed taken with me, enamored with me.  

I ended up sitting on the plate as we chatted, looking out over the field.  It was then that she said 'those are cute'.  When I turned to see what she was referencing, I noticed her staring at the thong peeking out from the top of my jeans.  And by 'staring', I got the sense that she wanted to see more of what was inside my jeans.  I also happened to get a really wide view of her panties because her legs were stretched in such a way that the shorts she was wearing were riding up and causing a gap to show.  It was the first time I had done such a thing, openly staring up the shorts of another woman, but I was captivated for a moment by her gray cotton panties.  Her panties had worked their way up a little too high in the crotch, revealing one of the lips of her vagina, and the visible parts of the panties were noticeably damp from sweat...or at least what I suspected was sweat. 

She noticed what I was doing and slowly but deliberately grabbed one of the bats and started bouncing it between her legs slowly, giving me a reason to keep staring in that direction.  

"You know" she said, again with that coy little look behind batting eyelashes, "you're by far my favorite mom in school.  I mean, you help me so much with volunteering, and you're really great to talk to.  Your daughter is a wonderful girl and I am so happy she has been in my class this year."

And with that, she slowly got up and said "Well, I should get going...."  She spun around and, bent at the waist, reached to grab her gear and stuff it in the bag she had nearby.  This gave me yet another, even more erotic view, of her body as her back arched and her toned legs straightened, and her apple-bottomed butt pushed out and towards my face.

"Yeah" I said, as I scrambled to get up and extract myself from this rather odd, tense situation.  As I started to stroll from the home plate area, I felt her hand on my ass and thought 'OMG, she IS trying to pick me up!', but all she said was "Lemme get that dirt off your butt before you sit in your car."

As I said 'thanks' I looked her in the eyes and she slowly, seductively wet her lips by biting gently on the upper lip....and smiled.  I now knew what it felt like to be in control, to be the one being chased, to feel the power of holding all the cards.  I had to admit, it was intoxicating.

But that phrase kept echoing through my head:  'I'm no lesbian'.  Right?  I kept walking toward the car as I had the debate in my head, focused on resolving it, and soon!  All the while, Rebecca strolled slightly behind me, occasionally twirling like a sweet little schoolgirl in love.

As I reached my car, I turned to say goodbye to her, determined to extricate myself from this situation and go home to my loving husband and family, but she was so close to me now, so into my personal space, that I could do nothing but stare into her eyes, breathe her breath, and watch as she slowly, gently sidled closer and closer to me until our breasts were touching and our lips were inches from each other.  

She whispered "I just wanted to thank you for watching me.  It was so much fun" as she leaned up and pressed her lips to mine.  I could feel the stickiness of her lip gloss pulling on my lips as she pulled away, taste the faint cherry flavoring lingering on my lips as I reached out the tip of my tongue to wet them.  Sensing this as a sign of encouragement, which was not my intent (or was it?), Rebecca pushed forward more and pressed her lips tighter, and held them longer, against my own.    And as she did this, her hands grasped my wrists, then released, as if in silent encouragement to have them explore wherever they wanted.

At that very moment we heard what could only be considered a wolf whistle from off in the distance of the parking lot.  It made Rebecca giggle for a moment and look away, seemingly equal parts embarrassed and proud that she was seen being intimate with me.  As she turned, she slumped into me more, resting her head against my breasts so I could smell her hair.  It became natural for me to wrap my arms around her, settling them around her lower back.  She felt like a little kitten mewling and cozying into her owner's lap.

"Would you like to go for a drink?" I asked.

"OhmggodIwouldlovethat" she mumbled in one soft syllable, still nuzzling into me.

We got into my car and I started it up, but I hesitated to move.  I looked over to her, sitting in the seat, legs akimbo, head down, seemingly too shy to look up at me.  I reached out to stroke her chin, more friendly and reassuring than anything else, but she mistook it for something more (or maybe all along I mistook it for something much less) and she pulled my hand down along her breasts, over her belly and between her legs, urging me to press my palm against her....well, ok, against her very warm, very moist pussy.

She responded to my touch with a sharp intake of breath, and a thrust of her hips against the flat of my hand.  I held it there tightly as she continued to rub against it, masturbating herself with my hand and shuddering to little climaxes every minute or so.

Look, I am no lesbian, but this was simply too much to take.  The eroticism of having this little ball of energy sparking and erupting due to my hand was intoxicating, and I could think of nothing other than 'how far can I take this?'

As the lights to the field and the lot shut down by automatic timer, I could now only see her by the light of the slivered moon and the glow of the digital clock on the dashboard.  But I could hear her, smell her, feel her, and it was an elixir to me.  I roughly pushed my hand inside her shorts, feeling the need to break the ice and get this hesitation over with.  As I did this, my middle finger grazed against her hard clit and she literally exploded - gushing fluids and mumbling bumbling words spewed forth.  

I roughly undid the seatbelts and pulled her towards me, freeing my left breast from within and pulling her mouth to my nipple.  God how I loved my nipples played with, like they were attached to every erogenous zone in my body, and electric shocks sparked in my pussy, my ass, my belly, my brain....and she was so good with them too, alterating between slavishly gentle to aggressively vicious - licking, kissing, sucking, biting....it drove me mad with pleasure.

I looked at myself in the rearview mirror, sweat on my upper lip, flushed face, mouth hanging open....and this gorgeous little creature attached to my nipple.

'WOH, this is NOT me' screamed somewhere in my head.  I jumped up and whipped open the door, inside light glaring us in the eyeballs, and pulled myself out into the dark parking lot.  

'This is not me, not me, not me' I kept repeating to myself.  And then I looked over to her, in the glare of the car light, head cast down, looking sad and ashamed and ...vulnerable....and cute......and incredibly sexy....and I made up my mind that I had to see where this went, had to taste that forbidden fruit just a little more...

I reached in and flipped the switch to the dome light, casting us back into shadows, and began to unbuckle my jeans.  In one swift motion they were around my knees as I literal stood half naked in this empty parking lot.  She got the hint very quickly, and crawled over to me and placed her mouth directly on my pussy, licking me through my panties, sucking me in, inhaling me.  She rolled over on her back, most uncomfortably, I could imagine, and begged me to turn and lean over her mouth so I was nearly sitting on her sweet and luscious lips.  I did the next best thing, peeling my jeans down one leg to free them, then hitching my thong to one side (they do come in handy for parking lot trysts, I see), splaying my pussy (I cannot believe I am doing this) open to her mouth, feeding her my pussy, inch by inch of it covering her nose, then mouth, then chin.

God it was heavenly - it felt like nothing I'd ever experienced with a man.  Nothing rough, nothing aggressive, nothing hard - just soft and sweet and wet, with her tongue finding places inside me I didn't even know existed.  She inhaled me, begging me to push harder onto her face, to envelope her more completely.  She seemed to thrive in this position, enthralled to be engulfed with a pussy, my pussy, on her face.  I watched as she furiously rubbed her own pussy, pulling and slapping and teasing it with expert fingers and hands, making her body buckle rythmically as her tongue continued its delicious assault on me.

I quickly reached orgasm, cumming so hard ontop of her I feard I had sufocated her.  My knees buckeld, my hips thrust forward and I lost my breath entirely, thighs shaking uncontrollably and ass quivering and puckering as though hit with a taser.  It was so amazing as I peeled my wet crotch from her, slipping off of her with a decided slurp, and looking down to see her eager, pleasing, glistening face just hoping that I had enjoyed myself and nothing more.  

And goddamn I had.  

I looked at her and said "oh god, I feel bad putting you through that....it was so selfish of me.  Let me clean you up..."

But she just smiled, refused so sweetly, savoring the moment and enjoying the badge of honor of having my pussy stamped on her face.

I knew then this was not going to be the last softball game I attended.  I loved my little cotton candy jock too much to miss out on it again.

Did I mention she also plays hockey?