Sex At Hotel Excel Pt. 02

"Good. Well you look fine, he said. Just remember you don't have to throw full tilt all the time to get outs. Pace yourself. Use your curveball more so you have plenty in reserve. You know when to reach back for more."

"Yes sir," I said.

Then he quizzed me on how hard I worked that day, how much sleep I got and what I ate for lunch. I didn't tell him about the full pint of Mrs. Jones' breast milk in my belly or that my cock was still leaking from two loads of boy milk I had blasted deep in her pussy a half hour earlier.

"Go suit up Mike."

Smiles went up around the locker room when coach told the team I would start. Award for most-relieved-look-on-a-face went to Neal. Second place went to my catcher Greg--a 6'5 260 pound giant of a man for a high school senior. We pulled on our white uniforms emblazoned with a monogram of Saint Michael slaying a dragon.

Clad in diocesan black with white dog collar Father Giuseppe Millette--the chaplain of our high school whom we all called Father Joe-seppie when he wasn't in earshot--gave us his Vatican approved benediction finishing with a sweeping sign of the cross over the team kneeling on the floor.

As co-captain I said a few words. "We've all worked hard and played hard to get here. We are a fine well oiled machine. It's ours to take. Let's go do this." Co-captain Mike the shortstop said, "Ditto!" then raised the chant "Slayers, Slay-ers, SLAY-ers, SLAY-ERS, SLAYERS! SLAYERS! SLAYERS! GOOOOO SLAYERS!"

Then we clacked calmly out to the field in cleats for warm-ups and batting practice. I took the mound in the right field sideline bullpen and warmed up. As usual my father stood there watching with his fingers hooked in the chain link fence. Nearby stood my blonde girlfriend Kim in her daisy duke cutoffs and cropped spaghetti strap cami with her tits sticking out and nipples showing through reminding me of my reward after the game. I hoped she brought a sweater. Already cool it would be chilly after sunset though I liked the idea of it keeping her nipples hard. I wondered if she was wet for me already. Also standing there was Sister Joan my tall slim busty middle-aged now ex-high school teacher whose tits I longed to see. A couple of men I recognized as scouts also watched.

They all headed for the stands when the announcer came on over the public address system welcomed the crowd on this Friday evening start of the Memorial Day weekend--the unofficial start of our American summer. An honor guard of Eagle Scouts stood on the infield behind the pitcher's mound. Then starting starting lineups were introduced. Visiting team came out one by one filling most of the baseline from home plate to third base. Then our team--officially the Archangels but unofficially the Slayers--was announced filling the line from home plate to first base. One of the girls from glee club sang the National Anthem a cappella perfectly. She had landed a full college scholarship in music with that voice. The crowd sang along out of key just like they did every Sunday in church.

I had finished warming up by then and watched from the dugout. Rabid baseball fan Sister Joan tossed out the ceremonial first pitch putting it right over the plate with a bit of zing on it. Whistles came from the stands. Applause dissolved to laughter. Joan flashed her perfect toothy smile.

"Good luck Mike," she said stopping at the dugout on her way off the field her eyes drifting down my body.

"Thanks Joan," I said letting my eyes run down her body as well. Unabashedly.

As per usual Joan wore civvies with only the blue habit of her order atop her head. I had hoped it would fall off when she threw the ball. Like all catholic boys I wondered what her hair looked like. She walked out the gate next to the dugout.

"What are you smiling about?" coach said coming back into the dugout with the rest of the team.

"Sister Joan's pitch--like everyone else," I lied.

"I need you to focus," coach said. "This is important. Now go out there and get em."

I walked out to the mound for first inning warm up tosses. My extra large athletic cup felt full. Full for Kim. Full for her friends I fucked. Full for Mrs. Jones. Full for Sandy. Full for other friends of my older sister's I fucked. Full for swim team moms I fucked. Full for Mrs. Devere I fucked the week before at Hotel XL. Full for Sister Joan whom I wanted to fuck--whose eyes were laser focused on my crotch from behind a smile moments before. They all wanted it. I felt wet in my cup from having just fucked Mrs. Jones. Twice. God I was an arrogant fuck.

"Play ball!" the home plate umpire called.

Game on. I rubbed up the ball, tugged at my cup in its jockstrap and kicked the pitching rubber. My catcher Greg smiled his knowing smile, squatted, hung one finger and pounded his mitt.

It was nice to have home field advantage. We earned it with the best record in conference. It's always more comfortable playing at home. That feeling ended when my very first pitch of the game was crushed high and deep to left field. Jeff drifted back and back and back until up against the fence he turned and watched it drop in the high grass beyond.

Well fuck. Son of a bitch! So much for that fastball. Home crowd groaned. Visitors cheered. I walked the next guy which brought coach to the mound telling me to calm down and stay focused. "You got this," he said. I nodded. Next guy grounded into a double play. I struck out the next guy to end the top of the first. With no one on base and two outs in the bottom of the first I stood in the batter's box and crushed the first pitch over the right field fence. Line drive homer. I tore around the bases like a bull elephant in the rut.

I struck out the next five batters. Then their lead off man was up again and damn if he didn't hit another fastball out of the park. Arrogant cock! I felt like Butch & Sundance: Who IS this guy? Next at bat I hit another one out to tie the score at 2-2. Was this what it was going to be? Tit-for-tat homers by he and I? No. No one scored again until the bottom of the sixth. I drew a walk, stole second base and scored when Greg doubled to left. Shortstop Mike drove him in with a single for a 4-2 lead. Top of the seventh--last at bat for the visiting team--I struck out the first two I faced. Then who-the-fuck-ever-hit-two-homers-off-me-in-a-game stood in the batter's box waving his bat like the cocky arrogant fuck he was. I snapped off three perfect curveballs striking him out. Game over, 4-2 win. We the Dragon Slayer Archangels of St. Mike's were in the conference semifinals.

+++++

After my post-game double cheeseburger, fries and shake with Kim I drove her out to Mrs. Gerdes' cabin in the woods for our Friday night fuck. You may remember from my previous story that Mrs. Gerdes was the first swim team mom to bed me taking me out to this small rustic country cabin neither she or her retired parents who owned it ever used. They lived in Florida. It became a love nest for our trysts. She gave me a key to the place but had stopped seeing me a couple months earlier--no explanation given--and hadn't asked for the key back.

I took other girls there--mostly Kim but also some of her drill team friends, a few of my older sister's friends and a few married women who wanted to get into my pants. I had already fucked Kim there three times that week. Doing it regularly again after missing each other the previous week made her happy.

That same week I had also fucked two other women who missed me the previous week when Mrs. Devere had me four nights in a row at Hotel Excel. One was my married 25 year old swim coach. As head lifeguard at the pool she was also my boss there. We had been fucking once a week all winter in her office at the swim club which was closed for the season. With pool now filled, swim season about to open and team practice underway we could no longer fuck in her office. Ogling me in speedos after morning practice she said she had to see me again so I gave her directions to the Gerdes cabin. For the usual half hour she sucked and danced on my cock, took a hard pounding when it was my turn on top then returned to her life. I filled one condom.

The other woman I fucked that week was swim team mom Mrs. Sommerville. Her son went to my school but swam on another swim club team. We met one afternoon at her love nest--the apartment she watched for a friend who worked out of state. Tall, slim, blond and blue she opened her legs and sated the desire of her middle aged body on my eighteen year old cock. A bored middle aged housewife like Mrs. Gerdes, Mrs. Sommerville sucked and fucked bare. My ample teen seed dribbled from her lips and leaked from her pussy. Both said they hadn't had sex with their husbands in years.

Anyway Kim came on my face and came on my cock and whimpered while I pounded her aching eighteen year old pussy filling a condom during our Friday night post-game fuck. She had dyed her light brown hair platinum blond right after graduation a couple weeks earlier. That and her big tits & rocking drill team body helped land her a summer job as a waitress right away. I wouldn't be surprised if she slept with the owner or manager to get the job. Big tits in her sexy little waitress uniform pulled big tips.

During pillow talk one of her drill team friends told me about other guys Kim fucked including a dad from a babysitting job. Like a rite of passage they had all blown or fucked dads from babysitting for extra cash. Once they knew Kim was fucking me her drill team friends had to have me too. They sat together in the stands watching me pitch. Queen bee Kim held court.

Kissing goodnight at her door she pressed full body to me flattening her tits against my torso.

"I want to see you after work tomorrow night," she said eyes sparkling in the dark her warm body sated from an hour with my cock inside her.

"It'll be really late like midnight," I said.

"As long as I'm in by one my parents won't care," she said.

"My folks are away tomorrow night so late is great," I said. "Meet me out at the cabin?"

"Okay."

Chapter Three - Saturday Night

Mrs. Jones opened the door a few minutes after eleven wearing a terrycloth bathrobe. A wicked smile spread across her face as her eyes ran over me. As soon as the door closed behind me her robe fell off revealing a sheer black negligee. Was its built-in brassiere too small or intentionally so to make her tits look like they were about to bust out?

"Baby boy," she said pushing those giant tits against me, grabbing my ass and pulling me tightly to her again.

"Hot mama," I hissed cupping the sides of her enormous mammaries. There was nothing else within easy reach.

I stooped, pressed lips to her neck and began kissing up under her jaw.

"You off the clock baby?" she gasped.

"Yes momma," I said inhaling the fragrance behind her ear.

We hadn't kissed during our tryst the day before because she didn't want to mess up hair and makeup. Now she wore a face full for our date but didn't care. She put her wide mouth in mine and wrestled my tongue with hers. Like the previous day her hands went from my ass to fumbling with my belt buckle as we moved to the bed.

"I'll undress you," she exhaled, stopping us midstream.

Her hands left my fly, cupped my junk for a moment through black bellhop uniform trousers then began unbuttoning my red waistcoat her eyes following her work but glancing up at me from time to time. Despite very long polished fingernails she made short work of the tiny buttons and removed it then unknotted and removed my metallic blue tie. As she unbuttoned my shirt she began biting her lip in anticipation.

"You're so smooth," she cooed running hands over my chest, squeezing my pecs and teasing my nipples before her palms moved down over my six pack careful not to scratch me with those long nails though probably more concerned about not breaking one.

"Swim club," I said.

"Mmm," she hummed sweeping hands up over my shoulders and pulling my shirt off.

Instead of going straight to my unbuckled trousers her hands caressed my shoulders, arms, lats, chest and sides. She teased every inch with long sharp fingernails.

"That negligee is stunning," I said moving towards her.

Mrs. Jones put a palm on my chest and stopped me keeping space between us. She raised forefinger of the same hand and placed it over my lips. Then her hands moved slowly down my torso again, opened my trousers the rest of the way and slid them off my hips. My bulge filled the large jock strap underneath.

"Why you wearing this?" she smiled.

"For support," I shrugged.

"Ooo," she said dragging the backs of her nails gently over my confined junk. "I don't doubt it. Turn around."

When I did her hands cupped, squeezed and kneaded my thighs and glutes.

"Buns so tight!" she said again.

I looked over my shoulder at her and smiled. She smiled but her eyes watched her squeezing and holding two hands full of eighteen year old ass. Taking a step back she sat on the edge of the bed.

"Take your pants off," she said.

My favorite four words. No woman had said it without opening legs to me.

Standing after doing so I started dancing for her, my semi hard cock bouncing in my jock.

"Ooo...! Oh yes baby boy. Dance for mama. Dance for your mama! Show me what you got! Let me see dem moves," she said. "Oooo baby yes!"

I gyrated in front of her and around her pumping hips in proper lap dance. She looked but did not touch. When I jumped up on bed she laid back and watched me undulate over her then sat up again when I jumped back down to the floor.

"Oh yes baby boy," she said. "Momma likes! Do ladies pay for this?"

"Yeah," I smiled not saying only one other woman had--Mrs. Devere the week before.

"Hand me my purse," Mrs. Jones said.

I did. She opened wallet, pulled bills and started sticking them teasingly in the waistband of my jock as I danced. When it was filled with cash all the way around she stopped me.

"Take it off," she said one warm palm against my navel while fingers of the other traced my inguinal line.

I pulled out all the bills and rolled them into a wad to add to my tips but before I could remove my jock she reached out and pulled it down past my knees letting it drop to the floor around my ankles. Her warm hands ran immediately up my thighs. One cupped my balls the other held my cock. Like the day before her eyes went big at the size of my shaft.

"Monsta' white boy," she said to my cock then kissed it and took it in her mouth.

Her hands held my slim hips while she blew me stroking my head in her lips. I held on to her wad of cash dropping my head back and looking up at the ceiling. She had talent. My eyes closed in bliss.

"Fuck yes momma," I hissed.

She took her time worshipping my cock visually and orally. It comes with the territory of having nine heavy inches. Women want to experience it. Even Mrs. Devere who had been shy about it at first couldn't resist taking it in her eyes and eventually her mouth. Out of breath or sore-jawed most women want it in their wet aching pussies eventually. Mrs. Jones wasn't any different. Once I got on the bed she shed negligee panties, straddled me and pushed on. My hot blood-filled teen rod sank deep in her big pussy. I wondered if she had been wet for me all day the way Mrs. Devere had been knowing what would happen after hours.

"Buck, buck, buck!" she gasped bucking on my rod. "Young white buck!"

I liked getting my dick wet again. Girls my age needed condoms because they had no other birth control. Neither they or I wanted them to get pregnant. Even my 25 year old boss/coach at the pool insisted on them when fucking though she sucked me bare and swallowed my seed. Older women--like swim team moms in their 40s and now a second married woman at the hotel--hadn't mentioned condoms so far.

"Oh yes! Oh Jesus! Oh Jesus yes! O God, oh God, oh sweet Jesus yes!" Mrs.

Jones called out to heaven slamming her pelvis to mine. As orgasm approached her thrusts sped up but passion robbed her words leaving only gasps, moans and whimpers.

Should it have surprised me that a pregnant married church lady elected to represent her congregation at an African AME convention was riding my teen cock? Probably. But swim team moms Mrs. Gerdes and Mrs. Sommerville were married Catholic mothers I saw in church every Sunday for years who showed little compunction about getting on my cock. Did this mean Sister Joan would? Her eyes drifting below my waist to the bulge of large athletic cup pushing out the front of my skin tight stretch knit baseball uniform told me everything I needed to know. Right then--with nine inches rigidly upright inside Mrs. Jones' wet grinding pussy--I decided if Sister Joan even looked at me sideways again I'd make a move.

Mrs. Jones' hips stopped moving as she enjoyed her orgasm sitting up on my cock mouth open, arms over her head and eyes closed--her face a mask of passion.

"Oh baby boy," she cooed lowering herself smothering my body with colossal breasts then my lips with hers before rolling off and cuddling up under my chin. After a long silence I wondered if she had drifted off to sleep.

"Can you stay late Michael?"

"Not long," I lied. "Midnight curfew."

"One more time before you go," she said pulling at me.

I rolled on top of her, spread her legs and pushed deep into her pussy. She hooked calves over my butt and legs. I pinned her wrists to the bed over her head and railed her with abandon. I already knew the joy of fucking a fat woman from doing my older sister's friend Sandy. It was like floating on a sea of soft padding except Mrs. Dorothea Jones had a lot more of it.

Mouth open, her face contorted in passion, her big beautiful brown eyes did not leave my eyes. I began swinging hips in circles screwing the living fuck out of her. She whimpered to every wild thrust. Her big tits bounced so much in the taut brassiere of her negligee I thought it might break. I gasped when I came but stayed impaled atop her hot warm softness for a while before getting off.

"I could fall in love with that," she said sitting up in bed watching me dress.

I did a little hip-pumping dance in my jockstrap.

"You really make that thang bounce," she giggled.

"I like making you bounce," I said looking at her phenomenal breasts.

She shook them side to side and laughed her wickedly playful naughty laugh.

"Are you expensive?" she said. "You look like you are."

"I never talk money," I said, "but yes."

"I get that sugar," she said. "Hand me my purse."

A few minutes later while driving out to the Gerdes cabin to meet Kim the Billy Paul song started playing in my head:

"Me and Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones--we got a thing going on...

We both know it's wrong/But it's much too strong/To let it go now..."

Epilogue - Saturday Night

Okay that's the end of my story of fucking Mrs. Dorthea Jones--the first black woman I ever had. The rest of this is what happened at the cabin which came with a surprise and another first.

When I pulled up to the little cabin deep in the woods my girlfriend Kim's car was already there.

"You're late Michael," she said hopping out.

I was about to say it was because I showered before leaving work but before I could apologize the passenger door opened and out popped another girl.

"I brought Michelle along," Kim said. "I didn't want to drive out here alone this late."

"Hi Mike," Michelle said.

"Hi Michelle," I said noticing the cloud of smoke rolling out of the car with her. Ganga.

"You don't mind you do?" Kim said.

"As long as you saved some of that for me," I joked.

"Oh we have plenty," Michelle said shouldering her purse and handing Kim hers.

The girls huddled close to me along the walkway.

"It's so dark out here I can't see a thing," Kim said slowing down.