tagLesbian SexSuper Sunday

Super Sunday

bysilkstockingslover©

Summary: Two frustrated and ignored wives create their own Super Bowl Sunday.

NOTE: This story is dedicated to Loretta and Diane to good friends who have since this story was written become MORE than good friends.

NOTE 2: Thank you Estragon for your tireless copy-editing.

NOTE 3: This is a Valentine's Day Story contest so please vote. Although it doesn't take place on Valentine's Day, it is the beginning of an unorthodox loving relationship.


*

I hate football. I mean I really despise football. Which is almost a heresy in the south, but it is true. The only thing worse than the NFL football season is the NFL playoffs...and the only thing worse than the NFL playoffs, is the playoffs when your husband's team is in them.

My husband, a Wisconsin transplant, is a die-hard Green Bay Packers fan and come Super Bowl Sunday they were in it. He is a football freak and is annoying during a normal Super Bowl, never mind a Green Bay Packers' Super Bowl Sunday. The whole two weeks before the game was spent watching hours and hours of pre-week crap.

During those two weeks, I was ignored. All I wanted was my Pink Bay Packed, if you catch my drift, which led to my own SUPER BOWL SUNDAY!

As always is the case, we hosted a few people over for the big game and also, as usual, I was to play the perfect hostess wife, a role I had been playing year after year.

For the past three years, Dianne, my best friend since she moved into our neighbourhood, came over early to assist with the male drink-off. While I am a Southern Belle, born and raised, Dianne is from the north and has a much more aggressive personality than me. While I submissively wait hand and foot on my husband, she clearly is the one who wears the pants in her marriage. Regardless, by lunch we were drinking wine while preparing appetizers for the game and bitching about our husbands.

I was also just a tad anxious and nervous. It was last Super Bowl Sunday when Dianne came up behind me while I was cutting a cucumber and leaned in and wrapped her arms around me, cupping my breasts. She was drunk by then, but her forwardness stunned me. A call from my husband for another beer was enough to break the brief intimate moment as I scurried out to obey my man. Nothing had ever been said about that brief moment, although I would be lying if I said it hadn't become the trigger for many of my lesbian thoughts about my best friend. Although it seemed unlikely, since nothing had happened since that day, a small part of me was dying for it to happen again.

By two, we were on our second bottle of wine and had done our wifely duties. Our husbands and their friends were transfixed in front of the TV watching the pre-game babble. After being beckoned for more beer by my husband and obediently getting it for him, Dianne pointed out, "Your man takes you for granted."

"Not really," I defended.

"Yes, really," Dianne countered. "He treats you like a maid."

"That is just the way he grew up in his home," I rationalized.

"So," Dianne argued, "you deserve to be treated as the Goddess you are."

I blushed, not used to having flattery sent my way. I am still quite pretty for 45 and my breasts are still pretty impressive at 34C, but my husband had long quit paying attention to me.

"No seriously," Dianne continued, "stand up."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I want to take a look at you." Standing up herself and pulling me to my feet. She gazed into my eyes and time stood still. I was like a high school girl again, waiting for that first kiss. I wanted it so bad, was sure it was coming, yet her eyes just bored into mine. I felt like she could read my soul and my desperate desire for her to touch me.

Her smile broadened and she leaned in slowly and our lips touched. Although the kiss was stunningly soft, fireworks went off in my head and wetness formed in my panties. Her tongue parted my lips and she explored my mouth with a sweet sensuality that had me weak at the knees. The kiss lasted less than a minute, but in that brief time everything changed. I wanted nothing more than to do everything with her.

She broke the kiss and whispered, "Don't move, Baby."

Even the way she called me Baby was sweet and enduring, unlike the way a man calls a woman 'Baby', like she is just some sex object.

I stood nervously as she continued fattering me in a very unorthodox way. She went behind me, squeezed my ass firmly and complimented, "Nice, firm ass". She lingered there just long enough to get me excited before continuing her appraisal. She returned to face me and continued, as she put her hands through my hair, "You still have sexy natural blonde hair." Her touch felt so nice that I felt yet another uncontrollable tingle down below. Her hands suddenly cupped my breasts, assessing, "And you have the sweetest tits around. Still firm and I bet super nice nipples." I stared at her both stunned and mesmerized by her aggressive approach.

I stood completely frozen a mixture of stunned shock and undeniable excitement overwhelming me.

"Take off your bra, Loretta" she demanded, her hand extended.

"What?" I asked, stunned by what she wanted.

"You heard me. Take off your bra for me," she repeated.

I hesitated briefly, before slowly, unhooking my bra and giving it to my best friend, my hands shaking with anxiety and curiosity.

She smiled and continued, ignoring the fact that I had just handed her my bra, "And your blue eyes, I could just stare into them forever. Loretta, you are a perfectly beautiful woman who should be treated as such."

"Thank you," I blushed, completely flattered by the special attention I was receiving.

"Now let's see those nipples," she announced, lifting up my shirt and taking a long hard look at my stiff excited nipples. "Hmmmm, long and hard as I expected," she assessed looking me in the eye and asking, ever-so-sweetly, "Do you want me to suck on them?"

Her sexy smile and her warm touch had me weak all over and I whimpered, "Yes."

She leaned forward and took my sensitive right nipple, often ignored by my husband, in her mouth. I let out a moan on contact and a chill went up my spine. Her hot breath on my nipple, mixed with the wine and the secret fantasy I had been holding in, was too much and I succumbed to the temptation and just let go. She played with my left nipple too, sucking and nibbling. My breathing began to get heavier, my breasts being my most erogenous zone, when Dianne's husband called her to bring him some snacks and she completely lost it, ending the sensual moment, "That fucking useless bastard."

She went to the fridge, found the carrots and lifted up her skirt and quickly inserted carrot after carrot into her pussy and then onto the serving tray. Just as amazing and obscene as was the carrot thing, it came to my attention she had no panties on.

She looked up, saw me transfixed on her obscene act and ordered, "Grab a cucumber, Loretta."

I did, not even remotely considering what she had in mind.

As soon as I had it, she ordered, "Sit on the chair, baby."

Being called Baby was such a turn-on as it made me feel wanted, and I did as she requested.

"Open your legs," she instructed.

I sat frozen at her request. The carrot bag empty now, Dianne moved to me and took the cucumber from my hand. She parted my legs, pulled my panties to the side and smiled deviously at me.

I watched in paralyzed awe as my best friend slid a long green cucumber inside my very wet pussy. Her next words were also shocking, "Hmmm, Loretta. You have a delicious looking pussy."

She leaned forward and licked my clit briefly as she slowly fucked my pussy.

When her husband called for food again, she roared, "It will be there in a couple of minutes. Now hold your fucking horses."

She smiled at me, "We are not done here yet." She pulled the shiny cucumber out of my now sopping wet pussy and cut it in half. She handed me the half that had not been in me yet and ordered, "Get that ready too, Baby."

I obediently took the cucumber and slid it back into my feverish pussy. I did a few strokes before handing it to Dianne.

She finished cutting the cucumber, added some crackers and disappeared with the pussy coated vegetables. I didn't move until she came back and smiled, "Think they will notice?"

"I doubt it," I weakly replied, my need to orgasm draining my rational thoughts. Of course, they didn't notice.

She returned to me, fell to her knees and asked, "Do you want to come, Baby?"

"Desperately," I answered honestly.

She stared into my eyes and spoke the sweetest words I have heard in years, "You know I love you, Baby." A second later, her finger slid inside me.

"I love you too," I whimpered, knowing I was speaking the truth.

She teased, "Is that because I got you so horny?"

"No," I answered, "I have fantasized about this every since you grabbed my breasts last year."

"Really?" she asked, pumping my pussy. "If I would have known that, I would have devoured you long ago."

I moaned softly again, distracted by her finger. "Do you want me to eat your pussy, Baby?"

"Please Dianne, I need to come so badly."

She smiled and leaned forward. Her tongue did things to my body I didn't know could be done. Where my hubby was random and all over the place, Dianne explored with precision, tenderness and care. She brushed my outer pussy lips, teasing gently. She spanked my clit with her tongue, and she parted my glistening lips and slid her tongue inside me. My moans got louder and I had to bite my lip to hold in the scream that should have followed when my orgasm hit. Her mouth sucking on my clit, I exploded my juice into my best friend's eager mouth.

She didn't let go of my clit until I begged, "Please stop, it tickles now."

She obliged, standing up and saying, "You have a delicious cunt."

I blushed at the unique flattery as I attempted to recover.

She pulled me up. She asked, "You have never been with a woman before have you?"

I shook my head no.

"But you want to please me?"

I nodded in the affirmative.

She opened her legs and whispered, "Just do what comes naturally, my love."

I desperately wanted to make her feel as good as she had made me feel. I leaned between her legs and slowly extended my tongue to her wet pussy lips. Her taste was indescribable, a sweetness that after one lick I knew I would be addicted to. I attempted to replicate what she had done to me, exploring her pussy with my tongue. As her moans increased, I moved to her clit and sucked it into my mouth.

She instantly let out a louder than anticipated, "Oh fuck, Loretta."

A chill went up my spine at the thought of making her get off and I slid a finger into her wet pussy. I quickly began pumping her pussy with my finger while still sucking on her clit.

She moaned, "Oh yes, Baby, another finger."

I obeyed, sliding a second finger easily inside her.

Within seconds of filling her pussy with my fingers, her legs stiffened and I felt a gush of her juice on my face and fingers. I eagerly continued lapping up her excess juice, savouring her taste until the very last drop.

Once her orgasm was done, she smiled, "Hmmm, I think we have started a new Super Bowl tradition."

Standing up from my sore knees, I added, "I hope this is more than just a once a year thing."

"You can bet on it," Dianne smiled, standing up and reaching for a new bottle of wine.

Another bottle of wine later and the game well under way, Dianne sipped her wine and asked, "Do you think they would shut the TV off if we walked out there naked?"

I chuckled, "Well maybe if you did. I have tried tantalizing him while a game is on, even a game not involving his beloved Packers and I get nothing. On the other hand, my hubby would be in awe of your big breasts as I know he takes peeks at your cleavage when he gets the chance."

Dianne returned the compliment. "Your hubby is a tit man and mine is a leg's man, so if you went out there in thigh high stockings and heels he may notice."

We both laughed before Dianne had a mischievous smile cross her face.

"What?" I asked skeptically.

"Let's see if we can tempt them," she suggested.

"How so?"

"Let's go upstairs and dress up a little more provocative."

"I don't really have anything more provocative," I replied.

"Hmmmm," Dianne pondered, "I'll be right back."

She returned a few minutes later dressed completely differently. She was wearing a very low cut shirt that left little to the imagination. I briefly stared at her double-D breasts, my mouth watering just slightly as all my year-long fantasies flashed through my head. She was now in three-inch heels and a short skirt as well.

She handed me a small bag and ordered, "Go put these on."

I stammered, "O-o-ok."

I took the bag and went upstairs. In my room I dumped the contents of the bag onto my bed and was taken aback by what Dianne expected me to wear. It was a black leather skirt, with a red blouse and black thigh high stockings. Also, because we had the same size feet, there also was a pair of fuck-me boots.

I stared at the outfit for awhile, contemplating what to do as I was way too conservative to wear such an outfit, never mind wearing such an outfit to tease a bunch of drunken men. The decision was made for me when Dianne walked into my room and asked, "Do you need some help?"

"I can't wear this."

"Not even for me?" she asked, smirking coyly.

"Well..." I weakened.

"Actually, I was thinking we should make our own half time show."

"How so?"

"Get dressed and I will tell you," she smiled.

I obeyed, getting into the sluttiest outfit I had ever worn.

"Fuck, you look hot," she complimented me once I was dressed.

"Thanks," I blushed, flattered by her every word.

"So here is the plan," she said, turning on the bedroom TV "Three minutes till half, perfect."

I looked at the score. Green Bay was up by six. "Perfect, how?"

"Well let's test our men. What is more important? Their stupid football game or their wives?

"I already know the answer to that," I sighed.

"Well, let's go downstairs and see if they notice that their wives are dressed as sluts," Dianne said.

"I already know the answer," I sighed.

Dianne grabbed my hand and led me downstairs and into the living room. There was just over a minute until half time.

Dianne walked in front of her husband who obliviously did not remotely notice his wife's scantly attire. I did the same and was, as expected, not treated as a sex object but as a hindrance. "Babe, out of the way," he ordered, waving his hands.

Dianne, her red faced cheeks displaying her anger, said, "Loretta and I are going to make our own half time show."

Both men grunted ignoring the words, although their buddies definitely seemed to notice.

Dianne grabbed my hand and led me to her house. As soon as the door was closed, she pushed me against the door and kissed me hard. Unlike the tender kiss of earlier, this time there was a savage rawness to the passion. It made me feel wanted and desirable and I melted into her.

Breaking the kiss, she pulled me to her bedroom and pushed me onto her bed. Smiling, she went to my ear, nibbling it roughly and slowly moved down to my neck. Her concentrated sucking on my neck was amazing, but she lingered so long in one spot I worried she might leave marks. She continued her downward, meandering to my breasts, unbuttoning the red blouse she had insisted I wear. Her mouth never left my body as she slowly discarded the blouse. My breasts free, she made love to every inch of them with her lips. The excessive attention was knee-numbing and my breathing accelerated. Slowly, she moved to my tummy and swirled her tongue in my belly-button, something no one had ever done. It brought a sudden chill up my back as I waited for more.

The slow admiring of my body was driving me wild and bringing new sensations to every part of me, but mostly my mind. It was sensory overload and easily the most sexual arousal I had felt since college.

She continued her exploration of my body as she slid between my legs, her hot breath lingering on my wanton pussy. I felt her move forward, as if she planned to finally touch my needy vagina, but the sensual tease continued as she moved down and placed soft kisses on my left thigh. Her tongue and lips never left my thigh and leg as she spattered me with soft kisses.

Unzipping my boot, she gently slid it off and licked the sole of my foot. It tickled a bit, but watching her tender loving care had me gushing. She took each toe and sucked it individually through the sheer stockings, like she was pleasuring a small cock. Once she had made love to my foot, she moved to my other foot and once my boot was off, she replicated the same concentrated pleasure. Glancing at the clock, it had been half an hour since we left my house, half an hour of my body being worshipped by this beautiful woman.

By the time she began to slither her tongue back to my pussy, I was ready to grab her head and rub myself to orgasm. Thankfully, she could read my utter desperation and she moved to my pussy and began licking. On contact, my legs twitched and I orgasmed. She continued licking me as my orgasm shook my entire being.

Once done, Dianne smiled, "I guess you needed to come pretty bad."

My breathing still erratic, I answered, "I didn't know it could feel like that."

She smiled devilishly, "Oh Baby, we are just getting started."

Just as I was about to ask what she meant, she buried her face back between my legs. My clit was sensitive from just having orgasm, and I warned, "Dianne, I can't have multiple orgasms without a lengthy break in-between."

She looked into my eyes and smiled, "Well, I already gave you two."

"Yes," I moaned, "but we had a couple of hours in-between."

Smiling devilishly, Dianne said, "I will take that challenge."

"But, I am too sensitive after I orgasm," I explained.

Dianne ignored my pleas and returned to my pussy. The first few licks were like sharp tingling pains, but after a few long licks from Dianne's tongue and the sensation shifted to sweet tingling pleasure. Within a couple of minutes, I could feel the slight simmering of a future orgasm. Suddenly relaxing, I let go of my sexual insecurities and enjoyed the pleasure my best friend was giving me.

Her tongue roamed all over my pussy and surprised me when she slid lower, and pulling my ass cheeks apart, licked my virgin butthole. Such an act was naughty and sinful and would have been taboo at any other moment of my life, but her tongue teasing me in the forbidden zone somehow made this moment even hotter.

She swirled her tongue on my rosebud before slowly penetrating my ass barely with her tongue. I let out a whimper and she slowly slid her tongue back to my pussy.

When she returned, she increased the pressure on my pussy and finally gave my swollen clit some attention. As my breathing increased, my orgasm beginning to build, she slid a finger in pussy and began pumping slowly. My orgasm continued to build but like often happened, it lingered there in perpetual almost-land, and my frustration began to build too.

I moaned, "Sorry, Dianne, this is what happens. I get to the brink of a second orgasm, but it never breaks through."

She smiled, "Close your eyes, Baby, and trust me."

I obeyed, knowing it wasn't going to happen. I couldn't even give myself multiple orgasms, and believe me, I have tried.

She returned to my pussy and became aggressive as she attempted the impossible. Her fingers, now two in me, felt amazing, as did her mouth on my clit, but still my orgasm eluded me.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, she pulled her fingers out of my pussy and slid a wet finger of hers in my ass.

She began tapping on my clit with her other hand as she fingered my ass. Also out of nowhere she began to talk nasty. "Come for me baby, come like the little lesbian slut you have always wanted to be. You have wanted to be my little lez pet forever, haven't you slut. You are my slut, my pretty lesbian slut. Now come for me, now!"

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