The Game

I was just at home, minding my own business. What could go wrong with something like that? Mike, my husband, had gone over to Dan's unit, as they were getting a bunch of friends together to watch the big game. I'd just slipped on some sloppy flannelette pyjamas and was going to curl up in bed and watch TV and maybe read a bit.

So there I was, in my pyjamas, casually browsing the book shelf for something to take to bed with me, when my front door burst open and this guy comes charging in.

Now he was quite a nice looking guy, big and strong, with lots of muscles. Not muscle-bound - those guys give me the creeps - but an obviously fit and healthy man who got a lot of exercise. Now, while I didn't know him from Adam, it was pretty plain what he wanted. Dan's unit and the game. The giveaway was that silly footy scarf he wore.

"Sorry I'm late, guys," he was saying as he barged in. "Got delayed behind an idiot in a fender bender and I'm in the wrong place, aren't I. I thought the door had a '9' on it."

"No, actually it has an upside down '6'. We have to get a new screw for the top of it. You're after Dan's place and the game. It's that-away."

I pointed in the general direction of Dan's unit.

Now this guy was looking slightly flushed and he was giving me an odd look. At first I'd thought the flush was from his hurrying, but seeing the way he was looking at me I was starting to wonder. Had I spilt something on myself?

Looking down I found the reason for the man's slight consternation. Hey, I was by myself in my own home. I just hadn't bothered to do up the buttons on my pyjama top and, looking down, I could see a gap an inch or two wide straight down my front. Well, maybe three or four inches.

Now I wasn't actually showing my breasts, or not really. You could see the inside curve of them, but that was all. Let's just say I had an extra bit of cleavage.

"Ah, Dan's place. That way," I repeated, waving my hand in the general direction. I could feel the front of my pyjamas swaying as I indicated and felt deliciously naughty, knowing that he was getting tantalising glimpses.

"Um, yeah, Dan's place. That way," he repeated, pointing with both hands and I nodded.

"You're missing out," I said, tongue in cheek.

"Uh?"

"The game. It will have started. You're missing it."

"Oh, the game. Right."

He turned to head out and then paused and I distinctly heard him say, "Fuck it. I'm going to look."

He turned back towards me, took a step forward and gently took hold of my pyjama top and moved the sides apart. He took a big breath and just looked at me.

I have to admit I was a bit startled and also a little flattered. I mean, he was taking a bit of a chance, now wasn't he.

I have very nice breasts. Firm and pointed and they don't really need the help of a bra to support them. It was actually quite exciting to know that a stranger was looking at them and, from the look on his face, appreciating them.

"Do you mind?" I asked, acid in my voice. I expected that he would wake up to what he was doing, stammer an apology and bolt.

What I didn't expect was what happened.

"No," he said, very softly, "I don't mind at all," and he bent down and kissed my nipple.

Kissed it, hell. His mouth just brushed against it and then it returned and fastened onto me, gently sucking and teasing. I'm staring down at the top of his head, noting that he had really nice thick black hair, while he's chewing on my breast.

I opened my mouth to say something, although I had no idea what, when he lifted his head away. My nipple was swollen and wet and the contact with the cold air was making it pucker even more. I was about to tell him to get the hell out or I'd scream when he bent over and took the other nipple.

I couldn't believe it. I. Just. Could. Not. Believe. It.

How could this guy just walk up to me and start playing with my breasts? What was worse, the whole thing was exciting. I could feel heat pooling inside me, low down where it should not be.

He lifted his head again and looked at me, paying a lot of attention to my breasts.

"Nice," he murmured, speaking so softly that I had to strain to hear him. "Sweet and perfect."

He just reached up and cupped them, his thumbs rolling my nipples softly. I couldn't permit that, of course, and I took a step back. Trouble was, I could only take that one step and I was up against the side of an armchair, and he just came with me.

"Take your hands off my breasts," I managed to mutter.

He gave this little sigh and moved his hands, sliding them down off my breasts and along my sides.

I knew what he was going to do, long before he did it. I just knew.

His hands came sliding down my sides, slid under my pyjama pants and drifted over my bottom. My bare bottom. I was going to bed, for crying out loud. I don't need panties with pyjamas.

It wasn't just my bottom he was feeling, either. His hands were travelling down along the back of my legs. How did this work? It was easy. My pyjamas just sailed down my legs as he pushed. Once they dropped off my bottom, gravity did the rest, and they just slithered straight down.

I wanted to scream. Honest I did. But I was just frozen, watching as a complete stranger effectively stripped me. His hands came sliding back up the front of my legs, both of them coming together at my groin, gently stroking along my mound.

That pool of heat I'd felt was now a busy little bushfire, setting alight all the nerves around it.

He stood back and looked at me again. This time his eyes were looking me up and down, taking pleasure in my nudity. I couldn't help but feel a fillip of excitement at his obvious appreciation.

Still looking at me he unzipped and took out his cock. Would you believe it? He just hauled it out in front of me. It was erect, and it looked big and strong. I thought it looked absolutely marvellous.

He moved closer to me, a hand closing over my mound, playing with my lips, stretching them apart and slipping a finger in and out. At the same time his other hand was holding his cock, steering it towards me.

I was watching what he was doing, fascinated, not really taking it in. It hadn't occurred to me that he was really going to take me. Why would it? Who expects a stranger to just walk up, take down your pants, and take you?

His fingers spread my lips and his cock was pushing into me and I woke up to what was happening. Way, way, too late, of course. There was nothing I could do about it now. I was caught.

I leaned back against the armchair, looking down along my body to where his cock was easing into me. It looked enormous. I could feel it slowly pushing along my passage, stretching me, filling me. I was gasping slightly as it came, still not really believing it was happening, although a cock like that inside you is a definite sign that something unusual is going on.

He wasn't rough at all, just determined. His cock slid smoothly down my passage, resistance not permitted. Not, to be honest, that I was resisting. He'd barely started pushing into me when I found that I was pushing back, taking him deeper. That fire he'd lit was burning bright, urging me onward.

His groin bumped against me, and I was, oh, so aware of his cock in me. I mean, it was there, in me, and I could feel all of it. Anything else seemed of secondary consideration to what he was doing to me. At least, to what he was about to do. I was damn certain that he wasn't just going to leave it sitting quietly.

I idly noted that his hands had taken hold of my breasts, but his cock was moving. He pulled slowly back and then returned, firmly. That was just the start, of course. He was soon moving in and out with a firm steady stroke that was doing the most peculiar things inside me.

Not that he was the only one moving. I found myself swaying back and forth, pressing urgently to meet him, relaxing to let him pull back, knowing he'd return.

The whole thing had a dream aspect to it. We moved together, passion still muted but still there, gently swaying. Slowly but surely, our passions were rising. The gentle swaying was picking up speed. He was in me. His cock was plunging in deep. Every thought I had came back to that. I was being possessed, being taken, in what was now a most vigorous manner.

I was gasping and making those funny little love sounds you give when passion is riding you hard. Or should I say when a man is riding you hard? Because that's what was happening. His hands were firm on my breasts, teasing, tormenting and tantalising, and all the time his cock was plunging in, seeming to go deeper with every thrust.

As they say in bodice rippers, he had his wicked way with me, and it was wonderful. I'd been excited even before his cock penetrated me, and once it had that excitement just kept building and burning.

I know, some people will say I should have screamed and resisted, fought him off. As far as I was concerned, those people weren't here, I was, and resistance was futile. The man wanted me and took me, and kept on taking me, lifting me higher with every lovely stroke.

I have no idea what I was saying at the end, just babbling I think, but it was an eager babbling, wanting nothing more than what I was getting, and getting hard.

I felt him coming at the end. He gave a groan and a jerk that nearly lifted me off my feet, and then he was spraying inside me and that finished it for me. All that heat and passion just exploded and washed over me, sweeping me away.

I slowly came down from wherever I'd drifted to, opening my eyes to see him standing there, looking at me. He was looking somewhat stunned, which was fair enough, because that's how I was feeling.

"I, ah, I only came to watch the game," he muttered.

"Dan's unit, number '9', that way," I managed to say, pointing.

"Right," he said, backing away. "Number '9'. No problems."

He backed away and out the door, his eyes not leaving me until the door closed.

I hope he's not the type to kiss and tell. Mike just may not understand. I know I still don't.