Sharon Goes Back to School Ch. 13

"Yeah, little Bitch," he cooed, leaning over her to whisper, "You're gonna cum... Get me off... Milk me with that hot pussy." Sharon nodded, groaning as she began to do just that. The brute pushed at her again, and she felt him start to cum, too.

Sharon's eyes went wide. The condom! She started to jerk forward but his hand held her in place. Behind her, the man began to chuckle.

"What, little Bitch? Afraid you might catch? Might take a black baby back home to hubby?" She saw he was holding his left hand out so she could see-- he had stripped the condom off before he'd begun to fuck her. Sharon was outraged. She knew Shaun would be mad; she was supposed to be able to keep putting out for the others in the suites. The awful man seemed to know what she was thinking. "You won't tell him or I'll insist when you saw how big I was you told me not to use a condom. Who do you think Shaun will believe?" He chuckled confidently, "When I'm done, I'm going to slip a card into that little box. Tell that idiot you need to use the ladies' room. Clean up, but save the card for the next time you want a real cock." and then he reared up, shouting theatrically as if he was cumming.

As he pulled out, he deftly pushed something up inside of Sharon, then feigned stripping off the condom which he handed to the shocked housewife. Afraid to call the man's bluff, Sharon pretended she was emptying the unused rubber before standing, clamping her thighs tight in hope of hiding what the man had just done to her. She grabbed a mascot sweatshirt someone had left, relieved it was an XXXL and hit almost her knees as she bolted past the surprised Tweak, mentioning that she had to pee. The brute who'd just used her bareback said something she didn't hear and both men laughed.

Safely in the bathroom, Sharon paused to grab paper towels and wet them before ducking into a stall to attempt a clean up. She found herself wishing she had brought a bottle of water to serve as an impromptu douche. The man's business card, folded lengthwise, slipped out into her hand, and at a loss for what to do with it, Sharon put it between her teeth. She grimaced, angry that she was tasting the spend of the man who'd been such a brute. She was outraged that he would expect she would call him, and was tempted to simply flush the card with the towels, but she did not. She was a little surprised the card was not already ruined, but by the glossy finish, she wondered if it was even a paper card at all.

She glanced at the card, wiping it off. Reginald Luthor. It did not ring any bells. She tucked it into a cut in the heels she was wearing, then flushed and stepped out of the stall. By the time she had washed her hands and came out of the bathroom, the man named Tweak was starting toward the women's room, an anxious if not angry look in his eyes.

"C'mon, Bitch," he scolded, checking the hall, "You've got company. Sharon nodded obediently and let the man hustle her back into the dimly lit suite. Two more of the men she had met just a few hours before, talking to they and their wives, were impatiently waiting a turn with the 'hot BZ Bitch.'

There was not another break before halftime. Sharon was initially puzzled that she got to watch the show down on the field at halftime, but reasoned the men who had been enjoying her were likely spending time with their wives. She was embarrassed at the thought that she was cheating so close to the men's wives; she had seldom considered that likely many of the men using her at Snake Eyes were married. Shaun had not returned before play resumed, and if anything more men were visiting when the third quarter started. Sharon wondered if the sexy routine the cheerleaders had done had something to do with it.

As the game wore on, more of the men taking their turn teased her, asking if she was ready 'when her guys lost.' She did not know what to say, in part because they were up by 6 points. Even when the other team kicked a field goal she never considered they might lose. She was being double teamed when the problems started; she missed the unforced interception that was run back to the 25. She heard the crowd react, a moment later, when the opponents got the ball into the end zone overcoming a fourth and short yardage hurdle on the 18 yard line.

The pair who had just finished up with her hooted and high-fived over her body. Seeing that time had run out, Sharon was grateful the game was over. She rose, moving casually to the little fridge to open another of the personal size Asti's, washing down a banana from the bowl on the counter. She looked for her clothes, assuming she was supposed to at least put them on over her 'uniform' before they returned to the plane. It was another minute before she noticed the way Tweak was smirking at her. She put a hand on her hip trying not to sound irritated.

"What?" she asked, immediately hesitating, hoping she had not sounded too confrontational. The disagreeable little man smiled more broadly.

"You don't know?" he hooted, "Did you know your boys lost?" Sharon glanced at the television again. Sure enough there were students covering the field, but they were wearing the wrong school colors. She tried to remember if the game had been a 'must win,' whatever that meant. She had heard the frat members describing other games as such, but had not been around the frat for a couple weeks.

"Uhm, it isn't the end of the season," she was puzzled, and grew more irritated that Tweak was pleased she was clueless. He just shook his head. She shrugged, "OK, I give up."

"Oh, you'll give it up, all right," he cackled, "You think these greybeards were work, just wait." Sharon tried not to let the smarmy little man scare her. She wished Shaun would return. Spying her T shirt and shorts, Sharon scooped them up and lifted a leg, balancing as she began to dress over the day's outfit. "I'm not sure you should do that," Tweak started, then shrugged, "But I guess you got to get down there somehow..." She paused, looking at him, but he did not elaborate. Just after she had gotten her top on, Shaun came in through the doorway. A lanky young man with deep black skin was smiling broadly, his arm around her man's shoulders. She stared in surprise; Shaun was obviously unhappy. She winced, wondering what she had done wrong.

"Shit, man," the young ZB said by way of compliment, "This is The Sharon?" Shaun pursed his lips, nodding. The man stepped past Shaun, tilting his head in a strangely birdlike manner as he eyed her from different angles. "She looks like your prize bitch."

"It IS Sharon," Shaun said, anger obvious in his voice, "You tryin' to say I'd cheat?" The taller but less powerfully built stranger raised his hands, ducking his head unconsciously.

"Naw, bra, I'm just sayin' you didn't expect to lose her tonight." Sharon blinked at that, looking between the men. The stranger looked over at Tweak. "Is she good?" The oily little man leered.

"She's shit hot, man." The newcomer snorted.

"Great, but will she be able to handle what we brought three BZ Bitches to do?" Tweak shrugged.

"Truth, man, she may just survive the whole team."

"If you're worried I can send some others, say after practice next week..." Shaun started.

"You wish. No, you thought you could flaunt your AVN candidate to get a taste of more of our girls. Looks like we get to see what sort of a star she really is, instead." The muscles in Shaun's jaw were knotted.

"She better not be marked up," he warned.

"What, or your boys won't want her no more?" the tall man sneered, "Hell, she took guys all game but I didn't hear anyone decide to take a pass." Shaun inhaled, shaking his head.

"Not what I meant," he said, pivoting, his more muscular torso seeming to pin the gangly man against the wall, "It's Thanksgiving break."

"So what?" Shaun shook his head.

"So she has to go home. Do the housewife thing. If you send her home marked, we're ALL fucked. Is that clear enough?" Sharon bit her lip, watching the men, listening, still unsure what was happening. The tall young man shrugged again.

"Shit, she isn't marked up now, man. I've got 96 guys on roster, 111 if you include my boys." Shaun glowered but did not argue, "Now most of the basketball team didn't make the trip. A half dozen already headed out to get checked at the hospital. And another 4 or 5 were already nicked up and didn't make the trip. There's four bible thumpers and four or five who're not into sharing. A handful are here with family or girlfriends, but there's also a few of the coaches who're in on what's going on; they may want a turn." Sharon had a sinking idea she knew exactly what they were talking about. "Call it 100."

"I don't care if it's one thousand. Nobody marks her up, that was explicit when we talked, remember?" The twitchy young black snorted.

"Sure, sure."

"Make sure they remember... If someone marks her up, they'll owe me. They don't want to owe me what my favorite Bitch is worth."

"I hear ya. Hell, she's helping us out here, so nobody wants to screw this up." Finally Shaun seemed appeased.

"Where are we going to do this, then?"

"Oh no," the tall man lost his smile, "That's not happening and you know it. Never has."

"This is different."

"No, it's not. It's special," he flashed that smile again, "Hell, it may be the best incentive we've ever had to win both basketball games so we can play with her some more." Shaun pushed his fists into his pockets. "But it ain't different. She's a BZ Bitch. We won use of her, fair and square." He held out a long fingered hand, which Sharon found herself taking without being told. "See, she knows her place. Now I told you, we'll treat her right."

"How am I gonna get her..."

"Tweak can take care of that, right man?" Tweak bobbed his head, seeming to mimic the taller younger man's mannerism. The big athlete did not recognize it or did not care. He led Sharon out of the little suite without hesitation. Sharon had to jog to keep up with his long strides. Already the open suites and halls were nearly empty. The young man calmly led her onto the big empty elevator, pressing a button, then turning his attention to her.

"Damn, bitch!" he smiled, "No wonder Shaun wanted our whole Freshman class." Sharon blinked at him, not comprehending. "You do know you are shit hot?" She bit her lip and smiled at the compliment, shrugging. "Well, you've heard of trophy wives?" She nodded. "Tonight you're the team's trophy." Sharon nodded again, more apprehensively. "Everybody gets a turn enjoying the best known BZ Bitch in the country."

"Everyone?" Sharon asked hesitantly, "I have to be back to the plane before they leave..."

"Don't worry," the young man smiled and waved a hand dismissively, "Like I told Shaun, Tweak will talk to your boys; he'll figure out a way to get you home." Sharon realized they had gone past the main level where she had gotten onto the elevator before the game. "Do you know who I am?" the tall black asked her. Sharon shook her head. "I'm MarKing Norris. I'm on the basketball team." He ran his eyes up and down Sharon's body, "And I don't mind saying I'm gonna take a turn with that hot body, too. I hear you're dancing now, too?" Sharon nodded, glancing at the camera in the corner of the elevator and wondering if there was a microphone on the unit. "We'll just see if the celebration has started before I find out if I get you first," he winked, "Well, first to enjoy you as our trophy... or last." He cupped his groin suggestively and without thinking about it, Sharon's gaze followed his hand. She stared at his crotch, amazed after what she'd spent most of the last three hours doing that she could still get excited. "Who knows," MarKing continued, "Maybe Shaun will put you up for a bet on the basketball games, too. Then you could take my big brother and I at the same time," he winked, "And I do mean Big."

"Can we get something to eat?" Sharon realized her head was spinning; she had finished too many champagne servings with too little food. He laughed, catching Sharon's hand again as the elevator doors opened, and leading her into the bare, gray and red painted concrete walls of the stadium's locker rooms.

"Oh, we'll get you fed." The tall black basketball player waved at the guards, who eyed Sharon knowingly, letting the couple through the closed double doors and through the short hall into the visitor's locker room. Sharon could already hear the shouting and cheering as she followed MarKing through an empty aisle of lockers and benches bolted to the floor.

An almost palpable masculinity filled the air, the odor of stale sweat and liniment, the slight haze of steam from the open showers some of the players were already using, and the adrenaline rush that had not yet eased in the wake of enjoying a come from behind win defeating the much favored opponent. Sharon's skin was goose pimpled in response. Marking led her away from the noise to another unlit bank of showerheads, and Sharon wondered if she was going to find herself being used there on the tile floor. Instead, the ZB Brother moved past the showers to a small room. Inside, Sharon saw a massage table had been set up. She glanced at the windows, all of which had blinds that had been pulled. MarKing pointed toward the leatherette table.

"Well, get comfortable. It sounds like the party is underweigh; coach will want to head out within an hour, so you'll have to shake that married ass unless you want to wind up in the bathroom on the bus," he wrinkled his nose, "I wouldn't want to have to do that." Sharon nodded, stripping off the clothes she had put on. When she started to push the split crotch shorts down her legs, though, MarKing put a hand on her upper arm. Sharon blushed at the way she shivered at his touch.

"Naw, leave those on," he smiled wolfishly, "I think the guys will like fucking over one of their Pussy Cats." Sharon nodded, trying to decide whether she should lie down or sit or lean over the table. She blinked when MarKing flipped the banks of fluorescent overhead lights on as he went out. Looking around, Sharon was relieved that the blinds were closed-- there wouldn't be cameras recording what she was about to experience. Had they really said 100 people? She had no idea how many men had already used her that night, but the idea that 100 strangers would want to use her for their pleasure was frightening.

Before she could even consider jumping up to leave, there was the sound of approaching feet. MANY feet. The young men, most still partly in their uniforms, began to push through the door into the small room. Sharon watched their smiles bloom as they saw the night's prize-- her. Keeping a hand on the massage table, she moved back and forth, showing herself off, as if she was showing herself off for prospective champagne room customers.

A burly lineman, his features vaguely Asian, his gut anything but appealing stepped forward, groping Sharon's breasts through the transparent costume top. Sharon moaned loudly enough that the guys grew quiet as his fingers roughly pinched her nipples. He smiled, reaching down to strip off his jock strap. Sharon's gaze followed the motion, but his belly hid his crotch. Without a word, he spun her around to face the table, pushing her forward, deciding the position for her a moment before he drove his erection into her sex from behind.

Sharon gasped as the young man thrust in and out hard and fast. He was not huge, but he was bigger than average, she could tell automatically. He had been rutting into her for almost a minute when she realized that he was not wearing a condom. She arched her back up, looking for Shaun or MarKing, or even Tweak.

"Condom!" she gasped, before realizing another player had moved around the table. The lanky player, still wearing his pads, had pushed his pants down to free his erect cock. She dutifully leaned back down on the massage table, slurping the second cock into her mouth, even as the first player went on rutting into her.

SMACK! He landed a heavy slap on her right hip, and Sharon screamed around the cock pushing into her throat. The recipient of her oral attention groaned at the different sensation.

"No condoms tonight, little Bitch," the first player laughed, "We get you however we want you." Sharon shivered at the thought, but did not argue... she really could not argue given her position. She was relieved to hear other players warning their teammate not to 'mess her up.' The brute slowed, and then held himself still inside of her as she finished getting the second player off with her mouth. The moment the sated young man stepped back, the first player moved around, pushing his wet cock into her mouth. Sharon accepted it without hesitation, and was not surprised to feel someone else pushing into her from behind even before the first player unloaded in her mouth.

"Spank that ass!" she heard someone urge, and jerked, moaning again around the first player's swollen cock, when the new player slapped her ass right where the first had done so before. "Yeah, a hummer!" he chuckled loudly, then cut loose without any warning, filling Sharon's mouth and throat. Sharon was still struggling to catch her breath and swallow the last of his jism down when another cock was presented for her to service. The man fucking her spanked her again when the player she was blowing told him to. Hoping to end the painful spankings, Sharon began to moan around the new cock without the prompting, but by then the team had found their rhythm... their sexual playbook, so to speak.

The helpless blonde housewife endured the first dozen players without any change in the routine... suck one off while being fucked by another, finishing them both with her mouth, and enduring the stinging smacks as if she was a bronc being spurred out of the chute. Sometime during the second dozen, someone decided to fuck her ass, and after that, one of the other hole was always plugged as she struggled to get them off with her mouth.

She was into the third dozen players, having finished the defensive and offensive starting line ups when she begged for a break between being fed strange cock. The players just laughed, taunting her, reminding her she was a BZ Bitch, and that she was their trophy for the night. The friction was becoming uncomfortable, though, and by the time she had hit the halfway point, she was begging for someone to get some lube. They paused, but only long enough to spin her onto her back, leaving her head hanging off of the table as the gang or players fucked themselves into her throat, ignoring her pleas... Or almost ignoring her pleas. They were still spanking her ass or hip, always the right side.

Having exposed her breasts, they began to tweak her nipples, too, laughing as she writhed and whined around whatever cock was pushing into her mouth. It was almost welcome when each new player preparing to thrust into her pussy or ass paused to spit on her crotch, taunting that she had all the lube they needed or warning her to 'get ready,' or some other mindless prattle before sawing in and out. Sharon struggled not to give in to the discomfort and fatigue that were making clear thinking hard. Sex had long since stopped being enjoyable for her; it was an ordeal to endure, and she was terrified of what would happen if she didn't succeed in satisfying everyone. Each time one of them pulled out of her aching cunt, she hoped it was the last, only to feel someone else thrust into her. Along the way she knew that more than two or three had finished off inside of her; she found herself grateful for the additional lubrication it offered.

She was only partially conscious for a time, whimpering whenever her mouth was empty, but obediently sucking and humping at whatever cock was pushed into her mouth or seam... She was dimly aware that someone... looking up blearily she knew it had been more than one someone, had finished off by spraying her chest. She giggled weakly, seeing her top had been rolled up to her armpits, completely baring her breasts. She frowned, seeing that her unpierced nipple was a deep purple, but her disjointed thoughts could not stay on topic as another cock slapped against her cheek. She opened her mouth, accepting it like a good Bitch, wondering why she felt so full when she had had so little to eat during the day.