Football Party

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He shares his wife with friends during the games.
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PrevertedMe
PrevertedMe
3,096 Followers

This story involves a wife's infidelity. Without any repercussions. If you do not like these types of stories ... please move on to something you do like. However, if such stories are something you do appreciate - please enjoy.

*****

Tom leaned back in the easy chair and gazed appreciatively at his beautiful wife laying near the base of their couch, looking warily around the room. Completely naked, Amy's flesh glistened softly. Her legs were parted just enough to reveal her used, cum-filled sex. From under loose strands of her disheveled, strawberry-blond hair her eyes shined with sated lust tinged by hope and fear . . . hope that they were finished with her . . . fear that they weren't.

Counting Tom, seven men sat around the room.

And all of them had just finished with her.

At the moment the other six were splitting their glances between Amy and Tom, wondering what he would say, or do now that it was over.

As for Tom, he was thinking back over how this had happened.

Weeks earlier he'd been excited for the return of football season for two reasons. First; his alma mater held a lot of promise after a string of mediocre years. And second; him and Amy had recently bought their new house with the large den which they'd turned into a football watching oasis complete with a 70-inch television. They'd attended different schools, so what Tom referred to as "My TV room" was decorated by propaganda from both their schools. He made a show of griping about this, but he actually loved the fact that his wife enjoyed football as much as him. Especially since the two schools were in the same conference, which provided them with the opportunity to make some . . . creative wagers.

His favorite part about Amy's fandom was her collection of women's jerseys. She stood only a few inches over 5 foot and, at 32, still had a fantastic shape with full B-cup breasts, a slim waist, and a round little ass. Additionally, her breasts remained firm enough that she would often go braless and between the alcohol, innocent flirtations with the guys, and Tom's own not-so-innocent groping, her nipples would grow hard, poking obviously at the day's jersey. Adding to the appeal, she liked to combine her jerseys with a pair of tight shorts which did an amazing job of displaying her ass.

Amy's body always caught men's attention, and her looks kept it. Her soft features were enhanced by bright eyes, sensual lips, and a few freckles across the bridge of her nose, all framed by her long, shimmering hair. If she did wear make-up it was only a touch of eyeshadow to accentuate her eyes, or some exotic color of lipstick.

Football season kicked off with the usual group of friends converging on their home with its new gameday oasis. The football crew consisted mainly of six guys from Tom's work, guys who'd also attended schools in the same conference. There were also a few tag-alongs that would show up sporadically through the season, when their better halves allowed. That first Saturday they all showed up, some even bringing their wives or girlfriends. Amy was the only female fan though, so that was pretty much the last time any of the others were seen.

Like gamedays all across this nation, theirs consisted of food, good fun, a fair amount of beer, and some frivolous betting; $5 or $10 that the next play would be a 20 plus yard rush or maybe a deep pass. If it happened that a couple alma maters were facing off it would get a little heavier, but nothing too extreme. At least once a week, no matter the amount of the wager Tom or Amy lost the winner would suggest getting a kiss or some other treat from Amy in place of the money. While this was usually brushed aside by a good-hearted chuckle, it actually turned into the catalyst that led to Amy laying naked and used, curled-up on the floor after having been . . .

Well, you'll see.

The fifth Saturday Chris showed up with a bottle of tequila. As a group they tended to be fairly tame drinkers, usually sticking to beer only. And while Amy and Tom kept spare blankets and pillows available for anyone that didn't want to drive, they rarely had overnight guests.

But it was Chris' birthday.

The big 3-0! (He was the youngest in the group.)

And he wanted to celebrate.

So, at kick-off they all took a shot.

Let the games begin!

Chris's school was playing that first game and he turned it into a drinking game where every score, every hard-fought-for 1st down, or exceptional defensive play called for a shot. Although he was the only one that actually downed a shot every time, the fact that his team was pretty good meant that by halftime a few of them had downed enough shots to have a decent buzz going.

Amy among them.

She didn't make a habit of getting tipsy, but when she did, she got extra flirty. She spent halftime moving among the men, giggling at silly jokes and generally being sweet and desirable while swaying her ass in her little white shorts.

"Ten bucks says they return the kick-off for at least 30 yards," Chris announced as the game got ready to resume.

"I'll cover that," a couple guys accepted.

"Twenty says they fumble," Amy challenged.

"You're on," Chris grinned. "But when you lose - and you will - instead of the money, you have to sit in my lap for the whole quarter."

"What? No way," she declined.

Everyone thought that'd be the end of it, as usual, but then Amy's lips curled into a mischievous grin and her eyes lit up with a wicked sparkle. It was the look she got when she was feeling extra adventurous.

Tom felt a reflexive twinge of excitement.

Holding her husband's gaze, Amy spoke the words that would ultimately send their afternoon down the rabbit hole.

"Twenty only gets you two plays," she giggled.

Suddenly everyone fell quiet leaving the TV as the only sound in the room.

Amy continued to hold Tom's gaze, her expression a combination of asking permission and daring him to say "No."

Tom quickly considered what was happening. Again, it was not unusual for someone to suggest such a trade-off. But this was the first time Amy had entertained the idea. He knew she was feeling good, but she wasn't slurring any of her words or having trouble standing, so she wasn't too high. And, he thought, since he could put that together, neither was he. Coming to the conclusion that there didn't seem to be any real harm in allowing it he shrugged his shoulders in deference.

With that, Amy turned her gaze to Chris while picking up the remote to pause the game before the kick-off could happen.

"Five plays," Chris said, recognizing it was now just a matter of negotiating the terms.

"Three plays," Amy countered.

"Four," Chris responded.

Amy took a minute to sip at her beer, then gave a sultry little nod of agreement.

"Alright," Chris clapped.

Amy hit play on the remote. The kicker set the ball on the tee and stepped back into position. As he sent it sailing through the air they all watched it with a new intensity.

"Don't you lose that fuckin' ball," Chris growled as a player caught it on the two-yard line. "Hell, just take a fuckin' knee."

But he didn't take a knee.

Instead he tucked it in and took off.

As he zig-zagged past opponents Chris hissed "Don't you lose it. Don't you lose it."

Seconds later he was tackled at the 26, still holding the ball.

Not the predicted 30 yards.

But no fumble either.

"Yes!" Chris cheered.

A few others echoed his sentiment.

As the opposing offense and defense ran onto the field Chris tossed a few tens onto the coffee table to cover his losses. Then he leaned back and smiled at Amy.

Even without knowing what to expect, Tom was surprised by Amy's approach to fulfilling her end of the wager.

Pausing the game again, she handed the remote to Ken, who was sitting at the opposite end of the couch. Then, with the sparkle in her eye dancing, she strolled suggestively around the coffee table toward Chris. She didn't prance or strut, but walked with the confidence that every set of eyes in the room were glued on her.

Once in front of Chris she turned her back to him and slowly leaned forward before lowering her ass onto his lap. This gave him an astounding view of her shorts-clad rear before settling sideways atop his thighs. It also meant that his eyes were already aimed downward when she settled back against him, meaning he was gazing down over the swell of her breasts under her jersey and, further down, where her tone thighs disappeared into her shorts.

All of the men had been college athletes and stood over 6 foot, so they towered over Amy. Also, like her, they'd all managed to generally keep their waistbands from expanding, so as she settled into Chris' lap she slid way back, folding against him with one shoulder and her head resting on his powerful chest. Holding his beer in one hand, Chris wrapped his free arm around her, his hand settling atop her thigh.

It was strange, seeing his wife in another man's lap.

But Tom found it stirring . . . certain thoughts, and other . . . things.

Now, any football fan can tell you that four plays can take anywhere from a couple short minutes to several long ones. And they can even include commercial breaks. Chris' fell somewhere in the middle; no commercial breaks, but there were two first downs and a penalty.

Not that Tom saw all that much of the action on the TV. His attention was drawn to his wife and Chris. He didn't see anything inappropriate happening; the pair simply sat there, sipping their beers and watching the game. He wasn't sure if Chris was just nervous, simply being a gentleman, or unsure of what he might be able to get away with, but his hand on Amy's thigh barely moved, merely giving it a few gentle squeezes through her shorts. For her part, his wife just lounged back against Chris, her lips wearing that mischievous grin and her ass shifting within his lap a few times. As the fourth play came to an end she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then slowly slid out of his lap.

"I need a shot after that," he announced. "Anyone else?"

"Yea, I could use one," Amy agreed.

A couple others joined them.

After downing the shot Amy made her way over to Tom, sliding easily into his lap and curling up against him in a tighter, more intimate fashion than Chris.

"You okay?" She whispered.

"Yes," he answered, his eyes taking in the image of her nipples starting to poke at her jersey. No bra, he thought.

"You sure?" She pressed.

"Yes, Baby. It's all good," he assured her.

"I just want to make sure."

"I know," he grinned. "You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

Color rose to her cheeks. She lifted up to press her lips hard against his. The feel of her lithe body pressing against him mixed with the heat of her kiss sent blood pulsing to his member. Amy broke their kiss and slid her lips next to his ear so she could whisper even quieter.

"He got hard. Like you are," she shifted her ass in his lap, rubbing herself atop his growing member.

This explained why she'd shifted around in Chris' lap.

"You're being naughty," he chuckled quietly.

"Uh-huh," she nipped at his earlobe.

Jumping out of his lap, she got herself a fresh beer then stood beside his chair.

During the next minutes she made an easy $80 as the guys threw out wild $20 bets, desperately trying to win their four plays.

Then George got lucky. Chris' team had just gotten another 1st down, and since they were on a pretty steady roll, a run play seemed obvious. Or at least a simple, straight forward pass. But George had a different idea.

"Amy, $20 says flea-flicker," he announced from the recliner he occupied.

"You're crazy," a couple of the guys told him.

"I'll take your money," Amy agreed, obviously thinking like everyone else.

Somehow George had read the coach's mind and sure enough they ran a flea-flicker. As the play unfolded on the TV many expressions of surprise and disbelief sounded in the room, but above them all was one celebratory whoop.

With a mischievous grin Amy pulled a $20 from her fold of bills and moved as if to walk it over to the victor.

"Uh-uh," he grinned broadly, indicating the bill. "I want the same deal Chris got."

"But George, we never agreed to that," Amy grinned, her tone playful.

"Well, um... um...," George sputtered, his expression showing he realized his mistake.

Someone paused the game and the room fell silent.

"I'm saying it was implied by the previous wager," he asserted after a moment. "And when someone as lovely as you creates such a... desirable precedent, it is absolute cruelty to renege."

With a soft little chuckle Amy dropped her money on the coffee table and walked over to him in that same, confidently sexy way. She again made a point of turning her back to George and leaning forward before sliding herself into his lap and settling back against him. As she did, he set his beer on the end table and rested the emptied hand atop her thigh. His other arm wrapped around her so his hand settled on her tummy, just below the swell of her breast. With this arm he gently pulled her closer against him, the action unsettling her slightly and causing her legs to part just enough to allow his fingertips to dip a few centimeters between them. A flash of color rose to her cheeks.

Again certain thoughts stirred within Tom. Recognizing that potential for things to . . . develop, he decided it'd be best if at least one of them maintained a sense of sobriety, so he set his beer down.

Once Amy was seated someone un-paused the game.

George proved luckier than Chris. His four plays involved a couple players being injured, bringing commercial breaks. Throughout he kept her snuggled back against him as she shifted her ass atop what Tom knew to be his friend's growing member. Those shifts caused her legs to part a couple more centimeters, allowing George's fingers to dip that much further between them.

It was during the second commercial break that Amy agreed to other bets that she would lose which meant that as the fourth play ended she moved from George's lap to Ted's. The game was paused for this transition and all the men watched her give George a peck on the cheek then draw herself slowly from his lap. She sauntered over to Ted in the loveseat, providing him a view of her ass too before sliding into his lap. Ted took notes from his friend and used one hand to pull her fully against him while his other settled atop her thigh, fingers dipping between her legs.

The arrangement of the furniture made it so Tom had an extremely limited view of this pair, and as he watched his wife shift her ass in a third friend's lap he was suddenly very thirsty. Still wanting to manage his buzz he ignored his beer and headed into the kitchen for a bottle of water. On his way back to his chair he got a clear view of Ted and Amy-

Ted's hand had slid from cuffing her tummy to cradling her tit. He wasn't obviously fondling the ample mound, but was instead just kind of supporting it. Additionally, Amy's shifting in his lap in response to his growing cock had caused her legs to fall open enough that his other hand was able to slip completely between them, cuffing her inner thigh mere inches from her sex. As Tom walked past them Amy seemed to be watching the TV intently while Ted was gazing down on the delicate doll sitting in his lap.

Seated again, Tom chugged half the bottle of water as blood pulsed to his member and ideas raced through his mind.

Then he realized he had to piss. On the way to the bathroom he took another good look at the pair, but nothing seemed to be different from moments earlier.

Ted's four plays ended while he was in the bathroom.

Walking back into the room he found Amy sitting in Joe's lap. Like his predecessor, Joe's one hand was also cradling the bottom of her tit while his other lay between her slightly parted legs, squeezing her inner thigh. As he approached his chair Tom thought he saw the hand cradling her breast give the luscious mound a squeeze.

This set his mind to frantically wondering just how far things might actually go.

Until then he'd only had flashes of ideas, undefined memories of unlikely fantasies shared during passionate moments between him and Amy. But now . . . now he started to consider how the unlikeliness of such things seemed to be . . . faltering. And he wondered how he might help it dissolve all together.

Or at least not bolster it.

These thoughts were interrupted a couple plays later as Amy pulled herself from Joe's lap and made her way over to him.

"Hey Baby," she sighed, sliding into his lap.

With his arms snuggling her against him, he gazed down on his beautiful wife, taking in her flushed cheeks, heavy eyelids, and shallow breath. He also saw her swollen, erect nipples poking prominently at her jersey. As she sat, her legs fell a few inches apart and as his hand slid between them he felt a heat radiating from her.

"You been having fun?" He whispered into her ear.

"Mm-hmm," she nodded slightly.

"Been makin' the guys crazy, huh."

She responded with a non-committal little shrug.

"You been rubbin' that sweet little ass of yours on their cocks?"

Pulling back Amy stared up into his eyes, a worried expression on her face.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"Absolutely," he grinned.

"You sure?"

"Definitely Baby. It's all good."

"With everything?"

"You mean with the way they started touching you? Yea. No worries."

"Good. You're gonna get so lucky tonight," she sighed, confirming what he already suspected, that she was being aroused by things.

"I'm sure I am," he chuckled.

For the next few minutes the couple simply sat there watching the game wind to an end, listening to Chris hoot with glee as his team won handily.

Tom couldn't stop himself from cradling her tit and rubbing at her inner thigh, his hands gently massaging her parts. Blood continued to pulse to his member and she rolled her ass atop it, grinding herself on the stiffening shaft. During the final seconds of the game he used his fingers to tilt her chin up. As he lowered his lips to hers she drove her tongue into his mouth and turned enough to smash her tits against his chest. This also shifted her bottom and he felt his fingers pressing against the crotch of her shorts, the contact making her hips jerk ever so slightly.

"Mmm," she moaned into the kiss.

Someone used the remote to flip to the channel where another game was about to begin. The announcer started talking about the pending game, naming the teams; one of which was Amy's alma mater.

"Now you're gonna see some football," Amy cheered, breaking the kiss.

Even though they weren't playing a conference team, Amy's school had been struggling after losing their starting quarterback in the first week. So while she maintained a kind of blind confidence in them, everyone else in the room thought otherwise.

"Oh really?" Ted scoffed.

"Yea, from the other team," Ken heckled.

"Hey now. We're gonna turn it around this week," she insisted, drawing herself from her husband's lap. "Give me a shot."

"You really think so?" Ken asked, his voice thick with skepticism.

"Yes, I do," she stated, taking the shot glass from Chris and putting it to her lips.

"Well then, let's up the stakes a little," he continued. "I'll bet you $30 against a kiss they don't score on their first 2 possessions."

"You're on," she cheered cockily after downing the shot. But then, as she set the glass down, her expression grew confused, her mind working through what she'd just agreed to.

"Wait. What?" She stammered.

"$30 against a kiss," Ken stated.

"Um... uh..." she faltered, glancing over at Tom.

Again Tom thought through it within a few, short seconds; Amy still seemed sober enough to know what she was doing, and he knew he was fairly clear headed. So if she agreed to this new wager and he allowed it, they couldn't blame it, or anything that ensued, on the alcohol. But, boy, could it help push things along to . . . new adventures. He also knew he shouldn't come off as too eager, so he forced his expression to remain neutral as best he could while offering a simple ambiguous shrug in answer to his wife's silent question.

PrevertedMe
PrevertedMe
3,096 Followers