The Soccer Mom

Sometimes I think I have a sixth sense. I can spot a woman and know she has a naughty side.

I'm not talking about the ones that are obvious. Of course anyone can see a woman in a short skirt with a tramp stamp with her tits half out and know she's probably up for a good time.

I'm talking about the closet cases. The church girl with a dark impulse. The buttoned-up professional that's dying to let her hair down. The newlywed who can't forget an impetuous encounter from her past. The suburban wife with a lifelong fantasy she's never acted upon.

It's been that way since high school when I first convinced a buxom little red-head to let me unbutton her school girl blouse and let me fondle her gorgeous tits. I loved every moment of helping her break out of shell. I got a dirty thrill out turning a curious little Catholic girl into an insatiable nymphomaniac who was up for anything.

I can't claim to be 100% successful. Sometimes I can sense someone's desire, but they're still reluctant to act. And just because they have a secret fantasy, that doesn't mean that I'm the person they want to fulfill it. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm not everyone's cup of tea. But I do better than average.

The way I see it, there is never any harm in making my interest known. Rejection is part of the game. If you never take the risk, then there's no chance of reward. And that's how I've ended up picking up women at the most mundane places. Standing in line at the grocery store. Strolling through a park. In a waiting room at the dentist.

I met Wendy at a gas station. It was a beautiful day and I'd decided to cut out of work at lunch. She was on the opposite side of the pump I was using. And I knew right away that I had a shot with her. There was just something in her face. A look of frustration mixed with boredom. It didn't matter that she had on a wedding band or that she was driving an SUV with a child seat in the back. I didn't know if the timing was right, but I knew at some point she'd be ready to cast her commitment—at least for a few hours.

She wasn't a knockout. More of a girl-next door type, but all grown up. She looked to be in her late 20s. She was tall and pretty, but in a plain way, with good cheekbones and nice eyes. Her natural, dirty-blond hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. She had on a pale blue velour track suit with the hooded top zipped-up over a tank-top.

I immediately started thinking of ways to start a conversation. Fortunately, fate intervened. She had the nozzle in her tank and kept glancing back at the pump. Finally she made a frustrated sound.

She glanced up and looked at me.

I offered a polite smile.

"That kind of day?" I asked.

"You wouldn't believe it," she said. "You'd think I know how to start a gas pump by now."

I walked around to the other side. There was a lever she hadn't flipped up.

"Allow me," I offered.

"Well I feel stupid now," she said.

I quickly made a comment about how we all have bad days. My pump was finished, but I lingered next to her while she filled her tank. I was polite and little flirty, but I tried not to make it too obvious.

"It sounds like you're having a shitty day," I finally said. "What are you doing with the rest of it?"

"Nothing much. Running errands," she responded.

"My day has been frustrating, too," I said. "I just cut out of work early and I'm thinking of treating myself to a manicure. Why don't you join me? You can vent your frustration."

She seemed hesitant and started to shake her head.

"Come on," I pleaded playfully. "At least listen to ME vent about my day. It will be fun. I know a place that serves mimosas while they do it."

She was on the fence. I'm sure she thought it was some kind of hustle. She looked me up and down like she was hoping to see a sign that I was a criminal. But her eyes lingered on my long, stocking-covered legs.

"I'll pay, if that's what it takes," I said. I put my hand on her shoulder and ran it down her arm. "Is that what you want? Someone to treat you? Like on a date?"

I gave her a quick wink.

"Come on," I added. "It will just be two girls seeing what trouble we can get into. It will probably remind you of college. When's the last time you just had a day like that?"

She nodded to the car seat and the soccer ball in the back of her car. She admitted it's been a while. I knew she was caving.

"OK," she finally said. "But I'd still be standing here like a bimbo staring at the gas pump if not for you. So I'm buying. I insist."

I couldn't argue with that. I told her to follow me to the little salon in the Asian part of town. The parking lot was filled out front, but I found a spot in the alley behind the building and parked. Wendy parallel parked a few spots up.

There was a short wait inside, so we had a couple of cocktails while we waited. Wendy quickly loosened up from the champagne. She vented about her day and I talked about some generic work stress. By the time we'd finished our second glass I was pouring on the charm. I touched her arm repeatedly as she talked. We looked at the rows of polish and I pointed out a color.

"That will be beautiful on you," I said. "It will match your eyes."

Wendy blushed.

"This one will match your eyes," she said.

"No," I said. "I'm going with this one."

I pointed to a bright blue bottle.

She looked me up and down with a puzzled look on her face. She obviously thought it wasn't right with my conservative gray suit and ruffled black blouse. I leaned close to her ear.

"It matches my panties," I said with a wink. Wendy blushed in response.

We continued to chat and laugh as the ladies did our nails. There was an instant rapport between us. We each had another drink.

I refused to let Wendy pay for me when they'd finished. And she refused to let me pay for her. So we each paid our own bill. Then we walked back around the building to the deserted alley where our cars waited.

"I had a great time," I said. "I think we clicked. And I'm not just saying that because you're cute," I added.

Wendy blushed again.

"Thanks," she said. "I had a great time, too."

She hesitated for a moment.

"And I think you're cute, too," she said shyly.

"Just cute?" I asked playfully. "I usually strive for sexy."

"Oh," she said slowly. "I didn't mean too...I mean, you are," she said. "I think you're very sexy."

I flashed a wicked grin.

"Oh," I said suddenly. "I almost forgot."

I quickly opened the top two buttons on my blouse. I held my fingernails between my cleavage against my bright blue bra.

"What do you think?" I asked. "Did I pick the right color? Does it match?"

She blushed for a third time. Then she nodded slowly. She bit her lower lip like a nervous school girl deciding if she should make a bold move.

"It matches," she said nervously. "But I thought you said you chose it to match your panties. How do I know they're the same color?"

I felt my face light up with a grin.

"Are you asking to see?" I questioned.

She shook her head playfully.

"No," she said. "I'm just asking. I'll take your word."

"It sound like you doubt me. Like you want to see," I teased.

She bit her lip again. She was the perfect image of the grown up All American girl.

"What would you do?" Wendy asked. "Show me?"

"I showed you my bra."

"That's not the same," she protested. "You only had to open a few buttons. It's not the same pulling up that tight skirt."

"Is that what you want?" I asked. "You want me to hike up my tight skirt? You want me to wiggle it up my thighs right here in the alley so you can see my blue satin panties?"

She glanced up and down the alley anxiously.

"You wouldn't," she said. "Right here? In broad daylight?"

I grabbed the hem of my skirt and playfully started to lift it. It got high enough that she could see the lacy top of my black thigh-high stockings.

She quickly reached out with a giggle and grabbed my wrist.

"No, stop!" she said with a laugh.

"OK," I said. "I promise they match, though."

I stood up and moved my lips close to Wendy's ear. My big titties rubbed against her breasts.

"But I won't tell you what kind they are," I whispered. "You'll just have to image that if you won't take a peak. What do you think? Bikini? Hipster? Thong?"

I pulled back and winked at her. Wendy's breathing had changed. I could tell she was aroused. She put a hand on my shoulder and gently pushed me back.

"I don't do this sort of thing," she said quietly.

"What sort of thing?" I asked coyly. "We're just too women talking about fashion."

She sighed and offered a kind grin.

"Oh, is that all we're doing?" she said sarcastically. But there wasn't any menace in her tone.

"Sure," I said.

I could tell she was dying to give into temptation. I didn't want to scare her off, but I wasn't going to back down and let her off the hook either.

"We can change the subject," I said. "We don't have to talk about my panties."

"To what?" she asked cautiously.

"What about yours?" I asked.

She couldn't help flashing a grin. She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation.

I took her hand in mind.

"Tell me," I said. "Does this baby blue polish only match your eyes?"

"Only my eyes," she said with a smile.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "Maybe you forgot what you're wearing. You said you've had a tough day. Do you know what you put on this morning after your shower?"

"I know," she responded. Her voice was getting husky.

"Let me see," I commanded.

"No!" she protested. "I can't"

"Come on," I said. "It's not like you have to wiggle a skirt up. You can just pull down the waist band on those pants and give me a little peak."

She considered it for a moment before shaking her head.

"I can't," she said.

"Well then what about your bra?" I asked.

I took a step close to her and grabbed the zipper on her velour hoodie. I slowly pulled it down. Her white tank top clung to perfectly shaped tits. I could see her lacy pink bra through the thin white cotton.

"Let me see," I said again.

I hooked my finger in the neckline and pulled the tank top down just enough to see the pale pink bra.

"Pretty," I whispered. I put my lips to her ear again. "Do your panties match?"

She shook her head again.

"Show me," I commanded.

She shook her head a third time.

I looked her dead in her pretty blue eyes. And then I pressed my lips to hers for the first time. It was a soft, tender kiss. A small sigh came from deep inside Wendy.

"Show me," I said in a firmer tone.

"No," she whispered. Her voice was getting very husky.

I cupped her breast gently. With my free hand, I pulled the zipper on her jacket all the way down. The tight tank top clung to her tiny waist.

"Then I'm just going to peak," I said.

She didn't stop me as I hooked a thumb in the elastic of her velour pants. I pulled the pants away from her body and looked down. Wendy was wearing zebra print hipsters trimmed in pink lace that was much brighter than her bra.

"Both pink," I said.

"Different shade," she responded between quick breaths.

"Kiss me again," she suddenly said.

I pushed my lips to hers again. They parted and my tongue slid into Wendy's mouth. I leaned into her so our tits rubbed together again.

"Are they wet?" I asked.

Wendy nodded.

"Let me feel," I commanded.

I slid my hand inside her pants. I worked my way down between her thighs. The fabric of her panties was drenched. I cupped her hot pussy with my hand and rubbed gently as we kissed again.

"Is it a thong?" she asked.

I pulled away and shot her a puzzled look. In all the excitement I'd forgotten my teasing earlier.

"Are you wearing a thong?" she asked.

I shook my head.

"Bikini," I said.

"I don't believe you," she said coyly. "You have to show me."

Now it was my turn to glance up and down the alley. We were still alone and there were no other cars.

"OK," I said. "Right here?"

She thought about it for a second.

"How about in the car?" she asked.

I quickly agreed.

Wendy's hands were shaking with anticipation as she dug through her purse for the keys. She pressed the key fob and we hopped into the backseat. Wendy started fumbling with the car seat. I started fondling Wendy.

She tossed the seat over the bench and into the cargo area. I pushed her onto her back. She spread her thighs and I positioned myself between them and on top of her. We kissed one another passionately. I shrugged out of my blazer. Then I took Wendy's hand and put it on my ass near the zipper of my skirt.

"Do you still want to see?" I asked.

She nodded and grasped the zipper between her fingers. She pulled it down quickly. Then she grabbed the waist of my skirt and started pushing it down my hips. She ran her hands over my blue satin panties and cupped my ass.

"You're so sexy," she said.

I kissed her lips and neck. I moved down and kissed her cleavage.

"So are you," I responded.

I stared unbuttoning my blouse. Wendy's eyes were glued to my big tits. I pulled her head to them. She nervously kissed the tops of my breasts.

She paused for a second.

"I've only done this once," she said. "With a woman. Well, more than once. But always with the same person. And it was way back in college. It was years ago."

"It's OK," I said. "I'll show you how."

I dropped to my knees on the floorboard. I shrugged out of my blouse. Wendy sat up and I knelt between her legs in bra, panties, and stockings. She ran her fingers through my long dark hair.

"Show me your tits," I said.

Wendy took off her jacket and tossed it aside. She pulled her tank top over her head and tossed it playfully in my direction. I reached up and pulled down the cups of her bra. The underwire thrust her gorgeous tits up and out.

"Play with them," I said.

She looked at me with lust. Then she started rubbing and teasing her hard pink nipples. I reached for her pants and pulled them down to her knees. Then I pulled down her panties.

I brought my tongue to her beautiful furry pussy and licked the edges.

"Oh," she gasped. "It's been so long."

"Since a woman went down on you?" I asked.

"Since ANYONE went down on me," she moaned.

I started licking her cunt. Wendy's ass wiggled back and forth on the leather seat as I ate her pussy. I teased the clit with my tongue and teeth. I pushed my thumb inside her and swirled it around. She started squealing loudly.

"Yes," she cried out. "Yes. Just like that. It's been so long!"

I kept my eyes on her tits as she played with them. Wendy kept her eyes locked on mine. I ran my tongue up and down her slit. I fucked her with my thumb. Her thighs started to quiver.

"Oh Betty," she cried out. "I'm going to come."

She put her hand on top of mine. I pistoned my thumb in and out of her hot pussy. And then she climaxed. Her squeals were loud enough to hurt my ears.

When she was finished I joined her on the bench. We kissed one another hungrily. Wendy reached behind my back and unclasped my bra. My huge titties spilled out into her hands. I pulled her lips to my hard nipples and she suckled them like a hungry baby. She put her hand between my thighs and pushed my panties aside. I could feel the cool breeze on my freshly shaved pussy lips.

Wendy plunged two fingers into my gash. I felt them pumping in and out of me. I kissed her neck and shoulders as continued sucking my tits.

"Fuck me, baby," I pleaded. "Fuck me hard. Make me come."

Wendy finger fucked me harder.

"Don't stop," I pleaded between short breaths. "Fuck me, baby. Don't stop."

She sped up. I felt her teeth pulling at my nipple. I threw my head back and called out her name. And then I started to come. I clenched my thighs tight on her hand. I could feel her fingers buried deep inside me. My entire body shuddered as pleasure washed through me. Getting off did nothing to cool me down. I only wanted more.

I was still catching my breath when there was a hard knock on the window. We both jumped. The windows were so steamy that we could barely see through them, but there was definitely a man looking in.

"Hey there," he shouted through the glass. "What are you doing here? What are you doing outside my shop?"

Wendy and I were both frozen for a second. Then I started grabbing clothes.

"Hold on," I called out. "Just a minute."

I put on my suit jacket and buttoned it over my exposed titties. Wendy quickly put on her jacket and zipped it. She left her wet panties on the floorboard and pulled up her pants. I found her key fob and cracked the rear window enough to see out.

"What are you doing here?" the man repeated.

He was Indian and looked to be about 40. He had a half-smoked cigarette in one hand. I noticed the back door of a nearby shop was propped open with a brick. I realized he must have come out for a smoke.

"We're sorry," I said. "We were just leaving."

"Are you fucking outside my shop?" he demanded with a thick accent. "You are not going anywhere. This is not legal. I am going to call the police."

"Please don't," I pleaded.

He squinted his eye and stared into the car. I saw him look at the car seat discarded in the back. Then he looked at Wendy. He must have seen her ring.

"You there," he said to Wendy. "Does your husband know you are here? Does he know what you do? I will call the police so they can tell him he married a whore."

He tossed his cigarette aside. He dug in his pocket for his cell phone. I quickly grabbed the car door and jumped out to stop him. I grabbed his hand.

"Please. Please don't. We'll leave," I said.

He looked me up and down. I was half-dressed and standing in the alley in broad daylight. I was suddenly very aware that I was wearing nothing but heels, stockings, panties, and a hastily buttoned low-cut suit jacket that did little to conceal my big titties. The man stared at me like a carnivore eyeing his next meal.

He was actually very handsome. Although he was older, he was very fit and had gorgeous, thick dark hair. He had the square chin and broad chest of a movie star. He wore brown corduroy plants and a gray pullover sweater over a white dress shirt. I noticed he had a wedding ring on.

I held his hand tightly in mine.

"Her husband doesn't have to find out," I said.

I lifted his hand to my chest and held it close to my cleavage.

"Does your wife have to know everything you do?" I asked.

His dark brown eyes locked onto mine. And then they drifted down to my tits. I brought his hand down so he could cup my breast. It excited me. I liked that I was seducing him. And I liked the power that I suddenly felt. Once again, I'd spotted someone who wanted to be bad. And I wanted to take advantage of that desire.

"Nobody's spouse has to find out about anything," I said seductively.

I noticed a tent growing in his trousers.

"What's your name?" I asked.

He told me his name was Raj.

"Why don't you put your phone away, Raj?" I asked.

He just stared at me. He held his phone in one hand and my tit in the other.

"Do you like my big titties?" I asked. "Put your phone away and I'll make it worth your while."

"I can see titties on the internet all day," he responded. "You cannot bribe me by showing me titties."

"But I'm not a porn star." I said.

"Who said porn star?" he demanded. "Girls are stupid today. They send pictures of their titties to everyone. I can see all kinds of titties on the internet. Not just porn stars."

"This isn't the internet," I responded. "My tits are right here in front of you."

"Big deal," he responded. "I can go to the strip club and have titties in my face all night. I can get a lap dance and touch stripper titties all night."

"Will a stripper let you fuck her titties?" I asked. "Put your phone away and you can fuck my titties, Raj."

His jaw dropped in shock. And then he put the phone away. I walked back to the car.