Post-Game Plans

Fall weather had arrived and it was finally cold outside. It was Sunday, the football day, pro football day, Pittsburgh Steelers day. They both looked forward to all the games, sometimes with gleeful anticipation, sometimes with simple dread. This was a mixed emotion Sunday, one when she dreaded the game but looked forwarded to what was to come afterwards.

She watched her boyfriend and wondered what might be going through his mind. He did grin mischievously from time to time, and she did catch him looking at her rather intensely while she prepared their bowls of chili for lunch.

The game came on and they reminded each other not to expect too much. They agreed that the Steelers sucked this year. Bad, no, worse than bad, embarrassing. But they were still the Steelers and they both were still fans and they both hoped and believed that things would get better. They had to, to get much better, or people would get hurt.

The first interception came late in the first quarter. Again, they both knew, it's happening again. Her boyfriend groaned and got up to get another beer. She watched him leave the room and let her mind drift to what was to come. What had he planned, she wondered, what could it be? How would it all happen? He had made assurances, but it remained, she realized, that the whole thing was really her idea, her fantasy. She reminded herself how lucky she was to have him, to have someone so understanding, so supportive, so comfortable with himself and her as she is.

Half-time drifted by with a hurried pace of game up-dates and stupid studio jokes. Who writes this shit for those guys, her boyfriend laughed? She smiled and tried to listen, but she couldn't concentrate. Her pussy was tingling in anticipation. Fuck football today, she told herself.

The Steelers were behind by fourteen points mid-way through the third quarter, so she reached across the sofa and rubbed his cock lightly through his jeans. He looked at her and smiled, not moving her hand, not stopping her, but not really responding either. Thinking about later, he asked her. She nodded and took her hand away, embarrassed with herself that she had such a hard time waiting for something she didn't really know how to picture.

The game went on as others: the Steelers fell behind and couldn't run and had to pass and threw interceptions and got beat badly. They both watched the post-game show silently, sullenly, pissed. Her boyfriend shook his head as a few players talked about how the team could turn the season around. She wasn't listening. She was thinking about what he had told her to wear for later.

"Time to get ready, don't you think?" he asked her as he turned off the television and clicked on the stereo.

"Yes." Her answer was almost a whisper as she got up and headed for the bedroom.

The short black leather skirt was on the bed waiting. The soft white sweater lay beside it.

She took a deep breath and stepped into the shower. The hot water caressed her and warmed her. The urge to touch herself crept up from deep in her belly but she fought it and didn't. Her nipples shrank and begged to be touched, but she ignored them too. Damn, she told herself, damn.

The leather skirt went on over her bare ass. No panties, he had said. The sweater lightly scratched her nipples; no bra either. Only the black heels followed. Three items, no jewelry. Three items of dress and some nice perfume. She was ready.

Her boyfriend only smiled and reached for his coat when she came into the den. They walked through the kitchen and into the garage without speaking. He opened the car door for her and closed it after she settled into the leather seat. She watched him walk around the front of the car, watched him smile and hold her eyes. He knows me well, she told herself, he knows I'm excited and he's enjoying it, enjoying every minute of it. He opened his door and eased into the car before he spoke.

"Still want this?" he asked, smiling.

She only nodded yes for an answer.

He pulled a black scarf from his coat pocket and leaned toward her to cover her eyes.

"You'll need to go and return in darkness," he told her. "You'll not know where or with whom you'll be. You will speak when spoken to and touch when told to. But my promises stand. You will not be hurt or abused or humiliated. You will be totally safe, safe from harm or illness, I've checked. Your pleasure will be the focus of everyone you come in contact with for the next while.

"Trust me?" he asked.

"Yes," was all she said as she took a deep breath and settled into the blackness of the blindfold.

The garage door opened, the car started, and her boyfriend backed out. She slid down lower into the seat hoping that no neighbors saw them leaving with her head partially wrapped in a black scarf. She heard him chuckle and knew it was for her but she didn't care. The top of her head was even with the top of the car door, she thought. It took her a moment to realize that in scooting down, her skirt had scooted up. No panties and a short skirt riding high meant exposure but she liked the idea. She liked the thought of him seeing her, seeing her freshly shaped pubic hair, the soft skin of her upper thigh, the pout of the hood over her clit. She wondered if he would touch her, but he didn't. They rode along without speaking, listening to music, a new jazz CD he had bought, something about playing the blues, but it was jazz, a sax, good music.

It was as if he had read her mind when he said, "It's John Coltrane's "Blue Trane" album, re-mastered. I hope you like it."

She did, but she didn't speak. She just rode and listened and tried not to be too obvious about moving inside the skirt and over the smooth surface of the leather car seat.

They rode for some time, not an hour but almost, she thought. Inside the blindfold she had no real sense of direction. After all, she realized, they could be anywhere. He could be driving in circles and taking her back home. She had thought of that, that he might just take her back to their house, so she had scented the place with some candles she would recognize. Smart, she smiled to herself. But when he slowed and turned, the sound of the garage door that opened was definitely not theirs. No, not theirs. Someone else's.

The car stopped and his door opened immediately. She heard him walk around the car, his shoes on the concrete floor, until he had opened her door. He didn't speak, he just took her hand and guided her out of the car. He moved her around the corner of the car and across the floor until they came to a stop. Steps, he said, so she lifted one foot at a time as he steadied her. A door at the top of the stairs opened and they both moved inside. The house didn't smell of her new candles but she did catch the scent of incense. And there was music playing, the same music, she realized immediately, the same music that was in the car: John Coltrane's music. They moved down what she sensed to be a hallway, slowly, carefully. He was sensitive to her being comfortable, keeping her balance. They stopped in a room, her boyfriend's hands still on her shoulders for reassurance and support.

"Nice," a male voice said.

"Yes," said another.

"Undress her," said a third voice.

Hands took the bottom hem of her sweater and began to lift it slowly. It was lifted up her arms and over her head carefully in order not to disturb the blindfold. Hands cupped her breasts from behind, the fingers gently twisting her nipples.

"Nice," came the first voice again.

More hands found the zipper on the back of the skirt and pulled it down. The zipper opened and the skirt began a slow slide over her hips. She found herself moving slightly to help the hands pushing the skirt downward, helping until she felt it begin to slide down her thighs and fall at her feet.

"Very nice, yes," said another voice.

She was naked except for the shoes and her perfume. In that moment, standing there in front of whomever, her first thought was of the shoes. Why do they always keep their shoes on in those movies, she wondered.

"Step out of your shoes," someone said.

Well, that settles that, she told herself.

"Show her to us," a voice said.

Hands took her and began to turn her slowly. The hands lifted her arms up and over her head. Other hands took her breasts again and lifted them, cupping them, tugging at her nipples until they peaked and pointed across the room. More hands ran over her sides and down to her hips, around to her ass, spreading her cheeks. Even more hands moved between her legs. She spread her feet slightly to let the hands there find her pussy. Fingers lifted her lips and moved upward until her clit was visible.

"Put her down now," someone suggested.

She was eased downward then to the floor where she felt some kind of comfort or quilt had been spread. No one told her how to position herself, so she turned to lie on her back. Hands took her immediately. Hands found her breasts again. Hands lifted her legs and spread them. Hands were everywhere on her body, touching, caressing, probing, pulling her skin and pulling her to go with them where they wanted her to go. Lips came then. And then tongues. Mouths took her breasts, her nipples. She wasn't sure how many people were touching her, taking her, but she didn't care. God, she thought, my God, yes, this is it, what I wanted. A mouth also took her pussy. Another mouth took her mouth, trying to tease her tongue to come out and play. Her tongue responded as the tongue between her legs opened her lips there and began to slowly lick her.

She came for the first time somewhere in the midst of the blackness and the hands, the tongues, everything. The orgasm shook her, surprising her with an almost fierce edge. Her body in fact quaked, shivered, convulsed, but the hands and the mouths and the tongues didn't stop, they pushed on, pushed her on.

Something inside her told her to gather herself and enjoy every bit of it, so she began an inventory of sensations. The mouth on her own kissed her and pleaded with her, the mouths and tongues on her nipples nursed from her, drawing what they could but giving her what they hoped she wanted, and the mouth on her clit let its tongue lick her as fingers fucked her pussy and her ass. What else, she asked herself, just before more hands took hers and pulled them toward hard cocks to be stroked.

So different, she thought, the two cocks she stroked were so very different. One thick, the other not. One long, the thin one. Even the skin felt different to her touch.

Just then the mouth and the fingers between her legs left her and were replaced by a cock. It entered her smoothly, sliding inside her easily. Everything else continued, the kissing, the licking, the sucking, everything continued as the cock in her pussy began to fuck her. And fuck her it did, slowly building to a steady pace, fucking her smoothly, letting the full length of itself glide in and out of her completely. Even with all that was being done to her, she sought to fuck back against the cock taking her. Her hips rose in rhythm with it, matching its pace, hoping to open herself to each of its thrusts. Her juices ran freely from her pussy, downward over the pucker of her ass, down between her cheeks and onto the comfort beneath her.

She fucked the cock until it came inside her. Somehow she felt she had won, taken the cock, defeated it for a moment. But no sooner had the spent cock shrunk and withdrawn, when another took its place. A new, fresh, hard cock slid inside her until she felt her wetness transfer to the public hair and skin pressed against her.

As the new cock began to fuck her, the kissing mouth withdrew from her lips to be replaced by the wet tip of yet another cock. She turned loose of the cocks in her hands so she could hold the one in her mouth, to stroke it as she licked and sucked. The head swelled in her mouth and she lost track of the detailed sensation of the cock fucking her pussy. The cock in her mouth almost gagged her but she liked it, she wanted it, she wanted to capture it and conquer it like the first cock to fuck her.

The two blasts of cum surprised her and pushed her to another orgasm of her own to match them. She shivered and spasmed and swallowed all at once. Cum drooled from her pussy and mouth, a mixture of juices between her legs, down her ass, the same over her lips and chin.

She was lost in it all as hands took her and turned her until she was on her knees, her ass in the air, open, spread, dripping cum. Someone put a pillow under her face and chest, so she took it and hugged it as she waited for what was next.

It was a short wait. Finger found her quickly and moved expertly over her wide open pussy, sensitive clit, and the yawning pucker of her asshole. A finger entered her ass smoothly stretching her, wetting her. She wondered if that was next, to be fucked in her ass. The finger was deep in her ass, moving in circles, she thought, when two fingers entered her very wet pussy and began to fuck her. Her hips moved by themselves, on auto-pilot, moving to find the right groove to receive what was being done to her.

Sensations, she reminded herself in the midst of it all, it's all about the mixture of sensations. The taste of the cum in her mouth, the feel of cooling juices dripping down her inner thighs, the feel of the fingers in her pussy, the feel of the finger fucking her ass. All of it together, all of it mixed as one. All of it mixed with the scent of incense around her, the contrasting scents of sex from different people, the sound of the music, the jazz, mixing with the sound of the vibrator that was replacing the finger in her ass.

And the purr of the vibrator mixed with the sound of a computer's modem engaging. The vibrator was being moved in and out of her ass as the computer connected and the mouse clicked away. It made her cum again, the vibrator and the sensations, as the metallic repeat of the camera's shutter told her what was happening.

She had told them in the forum to be ready for some new, unusual pics from her. She had told them.

A dildo entered her pussy alongside the vibrator in her ass as the camera worked its magic.

Behind the blindfold she smiled to herself. When she got home she would see the pics and know what her companions looked like. She would see her surroundings as well as herself in the middle of the floor with toys between her legs and lovers scattered around her.

She would see. But for then, in that moment, she went back to the sensations.