Football Widow's Fantasy

It's gonna be a long fall season. Even my bf is cuddling the tube. And they have just started. Football is not my thing, but my house tends to be the center of it so I try to behave. This year looks to be worse than last, so here is my diary from last year.

My Football-Saturday "uniform"

My house will be over run by SEC football fans today, so I have to not make hubby at least not ashamed of how I look. Here's what I'm thinking, Denim shortshorts over black semi-sheer pantihose. hot pink lace-edged tank top. Black cherry nails and dancers flats shoes. Already have a french pedi in case my shoes come off. Delicate gold chain on my left ankle under the hose. And extra mascara, lol. I don't have any perfume that smells like football, so a few dabs of Red will do. The shorts did not look right so I changed to an obscenely short light-blue denim miniskirt. Note to self, do not bend over...

Have to go prepare some bowls of chips...

"Game Day"

I got them, hubby and some friends, all settled in with snacks and beverages and then smiled and asked if "Mrs. Miniskirt State College" could be excused for a while?" and they are all like. "Sure, thanks," and no one even tried to look up my skirt. Such gentlemen. So I came back here to hang out the chatroom and do my mani and pedi in Alice U. purple. Drives Alabama and Mississippi men crazy.

So I'm in my underwear, my nails are drying and none of y'all are here to chat with. I watched a few movies, eventually found one with a plot and a man who knows how and when to kiss his lady. Got me all mushy, oh my. And then the fantasy began. I was trying on a cute nightgown I hoped to fit in again if I can lose another inch or 2. It came from the Ann Taylor catalog.

And in the fantasy, I'm Dianne, myself, more or less, but a slender blonde, middle-aged housewife, with more hormones, and less husband, than I needed.

I heard the delivery truck stop, and she quickly pulled on a tank top and jean skirt and went to the door. He had a package that was for me, but torn, and i asked if i could check it and not accept if the item was ruined. He was looking me up and down and smiling and I nodded agreement.

I opened it and turned bright red as I took out a delicate lace nightdress, spaghetti straps, no waist and lace tiers in babydoll length (the one I'm trying on). His eyes got big and his mouth opened but no words came out. It was too late to put it back and pretend He had not seen it. I held it to my sweater. "I Wonder if it's too small?" I mused.

He stammered, finally weakly muttering, "Want to try it on and be sure? I can wait."

I agreed and slipped around the corner to the bath, leaving him at the door. I slipped out of my sweater, skirt and undies, squirmed into the negligee and looked in the mirror, it was almost tight, my nipples were pointing right thru it. I put my hands on my hips and twirled. It flared out and showed, everything.

Then i heard a sound, and without thinking stepped in to the hall to see what it was, and stepped into the embrace of a now naked and erect delivery man. I screamed, then his mouth silenced me, his hands pulled my arms up behind my back, and his manhood branded my bushy triangle. He kissed me hard, groaning, so passionately that the kissing was making me dizzy and his knees got mine apart. His tongued pushed past my lips and his cock found my opening at the same time. I wasn't struggling, and was suddenly and shamelessly wet. He turned me against the wall impaled me and proceeded to begin fucking me like a man possessed.

And in disbelief I felt my insides caving, he knew just what he was doing. I was wavering, but it hurt how he had my hands, so he let go and i hugged his neck, both arms around him. That's when he picked me up by my ass, held me wedded to him and drove wantonly in and out. My back was against the wall. Helpless in his arms I gave in to the waves and his strength and manhood.

~The football crowd down the hall was rowdy~

I lay on the floor lost in fantasy, but could hear them yelling at the television, and then it was like they were watching and cheering the deliveryman on. That image sent me over the edge again. My nails tattooed his neck and i cried out as it came, the waves overwhelming me and he knew i was his. He finished into me, grunting and thrusting in triumph, then kissed me deeply as he subsided and his honey began to leak out and down my legs. I trembled and and came again, arched tightly against hin, and crying out softly.

And I imagined that the the men watched as he gently put me down on my back on the couch, and they applauded and whistled. And I made a wet place on the carpet.

Oh such a lush fantasy! No idea what they were actually yelling about. When I finally got up from the floor my legs were, and are, jelly. I put my skirt and sweater back on, and just didn't bother with underwear. Just in case someone took the trouble to notice. No one did.