tagLesbian SexFootball Widow

Football Widow

byColleen Thomas©

Sue Prescott was to all appearances an ordinary suburban housewife. She was five foot ten and blonde with large full breasts and wide hips. Her legs were long and toned and her waist was trim. Sue worked out four times a week at the local gym and ran every morning to keep her body in shape. She lived in a big duplex with a nice green yard in the center of a very middle class neighborhood. Sue had two kids, drove a mini-van, worked from home as an internal auditor for one of the big companies in the city and was married to a man named Bernie. He drove a pickup truck and worked as foreman on a road construction crew. Her life was fairly idyllic and she and Bernie got along well even after ten years of marriage. Most of the time she was happy with her lot in life, except for the bad times. Sue supposed all marriages had their problems and went through rough times. Unlike so many people she had a name for her bad times.

Football season. From the first kick off of the college season to the last snap of the Super Bowl; Sue was a football widow. Her husband had come by his affliction honestly she supposed. He had been a star halfback in high school and Sue had been a cheerleader; that was how they had met. They had dated all through high school, but after graduation Bernie had been offered a scholarship to play at a university several states away. Sue was going to a local college with an excellent program in accounting and so they had decided to break up after the summer, but remained friends.

Bernie had played for his first year and done very well. The papers were all full of the local boy makes good variety of stories. On his occasional visits home Sue learned that he was having a tough time with classes and had barely kept his eligibility. Fearing that he would flunk out he told her on one of his rare visits home that he planned on going pro after the season, rather than trying to make it through another year of classes. Bernie's dreams of glory ended on a warm night during the fourth quarter. A blitzing linebacker tripped coming through the line and plowed headlong into Bernie's knee. It took three operations and a year of rehab before he could walk without a limp. To this day he suffered great pain on cold mornings and often complained of stiffness.

Bernie returned to their small town after rehab for his knee and got a job with his father's construction company. He went to the Vo-tech school over in Rockland County in the evenings. Sue ran into him at the local hardware store and they started talking again. One evening he showed up on Sue's parent's doorstep with a dozen roses and an engagement ring. Sue accepted his proposal and they were married in the small Catholic Church in town. They moved to the burbs when she graduated and to all appearances it had been the perfect ending. High school sweethearts fall back in love after some adversity. The local paper even ran the touching story on page two.

Only Sue knew the whole of the story. Her first year in school, she had fallen in love with her English Professor. Professor Dominique Williams had been a Haitian ‚migr‚ who was a naturalized citizen. She had been tall and beautiful with a charming accent and outgoing personality. She had captured Sue's heart and introduced her to the joys of lesbian sex. Sue had been totally enchanted with her, from the sultry accent to her off the wall political views. Sue had fought a never-ending battle with her conscious and up bringing and had never really resolved the issue when Dominique died tragically on a visit to see relatives in Haiti. When she found out Sue had suffered a "nervous breakdown" according to the local doctor. Their affair had been clandestine and discreet so no one had any reason to suspect a broken heart caused her depression and listlessness.

The next year she had developed an interest in another student, but Sasha was "out" and she would have nothing to do with anyone who wasn't. Thus it was that Bernie showed up on her doorstep while she was facing the prospect of telling her parent's she was gay and facing the prospect of being ostracized from her community. Sue had never been a strong person and Bernie seemed to be the answer to her prayers. Giving up on her interest in Sasha she had chosen the path of least resistance and had never really regretted it. Except for the long, lonely nights of football season.

Bernie had eight guys in his crowd of football cronies. Four were married and Sue often commiserated with the other wives while their husbands were out at the local sports bar. Saturday, Sunday and Monday she rarely saw her husband. If it weren't for the fact that she knew nothing, not even sex could keep him away from the games she might have suspected he was cheating on her. At least in that she had the advantage over the other wives because Sue understood her husband was a fanatic.

Now that it was playoff time Sue faced the unpleasant burden of preparing for Bernie's annual "Wild Card, Wildness" party. Alana Shepard would get it next week when Herman hosted the party for the divisional playoffs. Andrea Dryer would get it for the championship games. Kate Macintosh and Cindy Coleford split duty on the Super Bowl Bash, each taking an alternating year.

Sue rose early and bundled the children off to their grandparents for their month long annual visit. Bernie wanted young Jonathan to stay and watch the game with "his old man," but Sue forbade it. Bernie and his friends drank cases of beer, cursed and generally acted like men and Sue refused to have her son exposed to that kind of behavior when he was only seven years old. Each year Bernie gave in, but each year it took more to convince him and Sue feared this would be the last year she would be able to shield her son from "the game".

Sue stood on her doorstep, still wrapped in her warm terrycloth robe and sipping a hot cup of coffee as her mother drove off with the kids. She waited until the car was out of sight before turning and padding back into the kitchen. She cleaned up the remnants of breakfast and started the dishwasher before opening the high cabinet and pulling down the platters and trays she used for the party. Bernie was already long gone to pick up "supplies", by which he meant beer. Sue had already bought the soda, bags of chips, dip, pretzels, steaks, ribs, chicken, bar-b-que sauce and condiments.

Heaving a sigh she began to get everything set up, the game was on at four.

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Sue was dressed for the party in a white silk blouse and knee length black skirt with moderate heels. The guys would all be in jeans and sweatshirts with team logos, but as hostess she felt like she had to dress a little nicer. None of the wives ever came to the parties, by silent agreement they each seemed to feel having to deal with one a year was punishment enough.

Around noon the guests began to arrive. Bill and Stan showed up with a cooler between them, even though Bernie had bought enough beer to keep and army post drunk for a week. Herman showed up with baked beans and Don had coleslaw. Mike Weaver arrived with his girl friend and a bucket of fried chicken. Ace and LD, two of the black guys on Bernie's crew at work, showed up with their girlfriends in tow and several bottles of cheap wine. Chad Coleford arrived with a cake and some cookies Cindy had baked.

Sue was in the kitchen when the doorbell rang again. All of the regulars were already here and she poked her head out to see who this might be. Bernie let three people into the house and turned around. Seeing Sue he grabbed her hand and almost dragged her into the living room.

"Sue, this is Don Bowers," he said indicating a tall bear of a man in khaki slacks and a button down shirt. Sue recognized the name; Don was her husband's boss.

"Pleased to meet you," Sue said.

"Likewise,"

"This is Carl Von Otheson," Bernie said indicating another tall man with unruly blonde hair.

"Nice to meet you," he said with an affable smile.

"Carl is the Bussiness Agent for the local," Bernie said.

"And this is Christa Martin," Bernie finished, indicating the small figure behind the two men. The woman was small and lean, with skin the color of burnished coal. She had wide, full lips, alert brown eyes and short kinky hair. In one ear she wore a big gold hoop earring, but nothing in her other. She couldn't be more than five feet tall and Sue would find out later she was actually only four foot nine. She wore khaki Dockers and a dark Raider's sweatshirt.

Sue knew that name too. The running joke among the guys was that the company had really gone in for diversity and Christa was as diverse as you could get. In one person they covered a black, a woman, a foreigner and a lesbian, the joke ran. Sue extended her hand automatically and the woman took it. Rather than the polite shake she expected the girl brought Sue's hand to her lips and bushed the back of it.

"Charmed," she said in a soft voice with a thrillingly familiar accent. Sue felt a long dormant excitement stir in her, but Bernie took her sudden quiet for discomfort and put an arm around her.

"Keep those smooth Jamaican ways to yourself shorty, this one is spoken for," Bernie said and laughed. The others joined in, but something in the small woman's eyes told Sue that the she didn't believe it. Am I that transparent? Sue wondered.

"Haitian ways, shit for brains, I'm not Jamaican mon, got it?" Christa said with a sarcastic rendering of a Jamaican accent, which produced another round of laughter.

The crude language did not seem to bother anyone and Sue had to remind herself that this woman worked with some of the crudest, male Chauvinist, prejudiced men in the world. Sue found it hard to believe that the slight woman actually ran a 90lb jackhammer eight hours a day, she didn't look like she weighed much more than ninety pounds herself.

Bernie's arm slipped from her shoulder to her waist and they conversed a few minutes before Sue returned to the kitchen and the rest of them went out back to the patio. The kitchen table, which she had so carefully prepared, looked as if a marauding army had been foraging. She started to collect the empty beer cans and bottles but gave up, there was no keeping up with it. She would just have to clean up Monday after work.

=========================================
Christa took a beer from the cooler and made the rounds. She knew the guys well and traded barbed comments with them before settling down at the patio table. What a fucking waste of time, she thought. I could be over at Chelsea's for her party. At least there she stood a chance of scoring. Chelsea usually had some wild girls at her parties. Of course they were all pretty skanky and there were always so many butches at Chelsea's.

It wasn't that she couldn't score and in fact she usually had no trouble, but at Chelsea's it was more like a meat market. There was no thrill of the chase, and ultimately the satisfaction was lessened. Still, it would be better than this. She had accepted Bernie's invitation more to irritate him than anything else. The big man was a dyed in the wool homophobe and racist and tried in every way legal to make her quit. Showing up here and making his guests uncomfortable actually made her feel better. Still, she felt like she was cutting off her nose to spite her face. She hadn't been laid in weeks and instead of taking care of business she was here.

Her temper often got her into trouble, as did her stubbornness. She smiled a self-mocking smile and cracked open a second beer. Taking her time she examined each of the women at the party. The blonde she dismissed almost immediately. The word bimbo seemed to be painted on her forehead. That girl was a total slut and Christa was sure totally straight. Both of the black women were obviously here against their better judgment and bored. Sometimes bored was good, bored women were not as attached, but she made both of these women as straight too. Christa sighed and took another sip of beer. No action for you tonight stupid, she thought. Her mind returned to the tall blonde in the foyer. She knew it was Bernie's wife, but the woman had struck her as being gay. Wouldn't that be a kick in the head for her asshole boss? The possibility intrigued her.

================================================

The pre game show was already blaring from the fifty-six inch big screen, Bernie had insisted on buying. There was no one in the living room yet so Sue stopped at the wet bar and made herself a vodka and tonic. Or more precisely a vodka and vodka with just enough tonic to not call it a double shot. Music was cranking from the patio and she steeled herself to go play hostess.

Mike was dancing with his blonde bimbo. She wore a mini skirt that just barely covered her ass and was grinding like a stripper. That was the kind Mike went for and the reason he was still single. Ace and Dc were talking to Stan and Bill near the grill while their girls stood close looking bored. Bernie was at the grill talking expansively to his bosses while he drank and cooked. Christa sat at the patio table with her feet propped up, drinking a beer while Don, Chad and Herman discussed each teams chances in loud voices while making bets with everyone else.

This was going to be a bad one, all of them were already lit and the game hadn't even started yet. Sue made the rounds, noticing that all of the men's eyes were drawn to the blonde's wildly wiggling ass. Men will be boys, she told herself as she collected a few empties and started back inside. She felt eyes on her and looked around to find Christa's brown eyes locked onto her. The woman's deep brown eyes roamed up and down Sue's body appreciatively with no indication it bothered her in the least that Sue knew she was being checked out. Sue felt a blush rise to her cheeks and hastily made her way into the kitchen. That frank stare held undisguised lust and Sue was uncomfortable with the feelings it roused in her own body.

She returned to the living room and made herself another drink. Everyone else was getting lit, no reason I shouldn't too, she reasoned. Sue had decided long ago to put her attraction to women in perspective. A pretty woman could still turn her head, but she was careful never to look too long. During the season she would occasionally dip into Bernie's "secret" stash of porno movies and masturbate while watching a lesbian scene, but that was only during the season, when she could be sure nothing short of cardiac arrest would drag her husband away from the television. Her attraction was her little secret, something no one even suspected and she was careful to keep it that way.

The announcers were going into statistics so trivial that even die-hard fans wouldn't understand them and Sue was finishing her third drink when she felt someone behind her. She turned quickly to find herself alone in the room with Christa. The short woman was leaning casually on the bar and staring at her with those dark eyes.

"I take it you aren't really into football?" Christa said softly as she poured herself a shot of Bernie's good whiskey.

"Not really," Sue said. She felt herself flushing and her skin tingled. Those brown eyes traveled slowly up and down her body and Sue could almost feel them, like soft fingers caressing her skin. Christa emptied her glass and set it on the bar. She suddenly moved closer and caught Sue's free hand.

"What are you into then?" the little woman said as she held Sue's hand in a tight grip and gently used her other hand to stroke along the startled wife's forearm. Sue was in shock; the sensuous feel of Christa's fingernails on her inner arm was juxtaposed with the unexpectedness of the caress. Sue tried to speak, but no words would come.

"You like that don't you?" Christa said as she continued to stroke Sue's arm.

"No.." Sue managed. She was breathing deeply and she felt her nipples poking into the soft satin cups of her bra. Christa's hands released her arm, but before Sue could move the girl seized both of her nipples between thumbs and forefinger and squeezed. The instant jolt of pleasure shot through her body and caused her to gasp.

"Your mouth says no, but your hot assed body is saying yes. What's a girl to think? A hot little femme like you married to a bigot like Bernie. Come on girl, moan a little for me, I want to hear it," Christa said in a husky whisper. Sue bit her lip and shook her head, but was powerless to escape from those soft fingers. Christa's right hand released her nipple and gently squeezed Sue's whole breast. Despite herself a soft moan escaped from her lips.

"Mmmmm, that's nice. Love to hear a girl moaning and groaning, especially when she's wiggling her cute ass on the end of my cock. Would you like that MRS. Prescott? I bet you would just love to be bent over this sofa with nine inches buried in your hot snatch wouldn't you?"

"Please.." Sue managed, glancing nervously towards the kitchen.

"Please what? Please stop? Or please bend me over the sofa and fuck the shit out of me?" Christa said. As she spoke her hand left Sue's breast and slid up her inner thigh, taking her skirt with it.

"Stop,"

"Mmm, there you go again," Christa said. Her fingers had crossed Sue's garters and the taller woman moaned when Christa's hand demandingly cupped her pussy and began to rub. Sue was paralyzed with both fear and arousal when the girl's hand dug under the leg band of her panties and pulled them aside. She bit her lip until it bled when she felt the shock of Christa's middle finger sliding between her slick lips and forcing its way into her tight entrance.

The sound of the refrigerator opening tore her attention to the kitchen again and she was shivering as she felt Christa disengage from her and step back. Seconds later, Chad poked his head into the living room and looked at the television. He didn't give either of them a second glance as he headed back to the patio.

"Hey guys, come on, they are about to announce the starters," he hollered.

Sue was still reeling. Her body was thrumming with desire even as her mind tried to convince herself that it was her imagination. Christa looked at her and smiled then held up her hand. Sue colored furiously when she saw the wetness glistening on the girl's middle finger. Christa slid the finger into her mouth and sucked it clean, causing Sue to groan. The visual was just so powerful and erotic.

"Sweet, I bet you would love a taste of mine wouldn't you?" She said as she slid her hand inside her Dockers. Sue watched as the girl worked her hand against her mound and then pulled it out. She held her index finger to Sue's lips. Sue could see that it was coated in the girl's juices.

"Go ahead baby, you know you want to," Christa whispered.

Sue couldn't help herself, she parted her lips and Christa thrust her finger in. A heady and musky flavor filled Sue's mouth and she was surprised to hear the popping sound as Christa withdrew her finger.

The little woman stepped up to her again and whispered, "I bet you would love more, but you'll have to get it straight from the source," before vaulting over the back of the sofa and settling into the corner. Everyone was now piling into the living room as the announcers began introducing the starting lineups. Sue's mind was still having trouble functioning and her body demanded that she do something about the sudden burning itch between her legs. She made it into the relative quiet of the kitchen and leaned heavily on the counter. As she thought of the Haitian woman her hand unconsciously slid down her body and softly massaged her enflamed pussy. Her pink tongue gently licked along her lips savoring the girl's distinctive flavor.

------

The first quarter was a disaster for her husband and his friends. Their team stumbled from the first play and had given up three touchdowns in five minutes. Christa, who was rooting for the other team was harassing them and really rubbing it in. The fact that they were all drunk, except perhaps Christa made it worse and Sue began to become nervous. The last thing she needed was a fight, but Ld's girl joined Christa in the heckling and so did Ace's. It quickly became the girls vs. the men and by the end of the first quarter the insults had taken on a definite sexual character.

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byColleen Thomas© 12 comments/ 208970 views/ 78 favorites

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