It's almost game time.
I've got a cold beer, some snacks and my favorite place on the couch. The only thing missing is my favorite person to watch the game with.
"SIMONE" I call loud enough so I know you'll hear me wherever you are. "THE GAMES ABOUT TO BEGIN!"
You know you're in trouble because you're late again, so you hurry downstairs to take your place on the couch next to me. But instead of sitting down, you top directly in front of me, standing between me and the TV, and I try peering around you to see the pregame show.
You're pouting and biting your lower lip, as you sway your hips from side to side. You can see I'm getting a little annoyed. So you turn around and pull your yoga pants down, bending at the waist until your pants are bunched up around your feet, and your hands are on your ankles.
You're still wiggling your hips back and forth and I'm no longer trying to look around you. Instead, I'm staring straight into your ass crack, watching your little brown pucker tensing and relaxing, and I know you're doing the squeezes that I love so much.
SPANK! I reach across an place a stinging slap on your right cheek, and you squeal with delight. You know you're being naughty and you know you're due for a good spanking.
I grab your right arm but don't have to pull, because you obediently turn around and lie across my lap. SPANK, SPANK, SPANK...three more sharp cracks come across your ass. Red marks are rising on your butt cheeks and I can see your pussy responding to the wicked attention you are getting. I'm so enamored with your beautiful ass that I miss the opening kickoff, which earns you another SLAP!
Each time my hand contacts your ass, you squeal sharply with delight, and suck air in through your clenched teeth. Your pussy is not glistening with moister and your lips are puffy and pulsating.
"Simone" I ask, who is your favorite Seahawk player?
"Matt Hasselbeck" you reply.
"What's his jersey number?" I ask
"Eight" you reply.
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP four quick spanks to your right cheek.
SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP four quick spanks to your left.
Your ass is stinging but your pussy is tingling, and your nipples are rock hard and poking through the material of your blouse.
"Now stand up for me and strip off the rest of your clothes" I command. I see that the only game you're interested in will be played between your legs, but I really want to watch the Seahawks now.
"FINE" you say in a huff, and plop your naked ass on the couch next to me. I take a long swig off my beer and put my arm around your shoulder. You're hopeful that I'm changing my mind about playing with you, so you lean into me and my hand reaches all the way around to your right tit. I grab it and start rolling the nipple between my fingers, and you let out a small moan.
You place the bottoms of your feet together and pull them almost all the way to your bottom, so your knees are pointing in opposite directions, and your pussy if fully exposed and open. I prentend not to notice, and just go on rubbing and tweeking your nipple, and drinking my beer. I can see out of the corner of my eye, as I watch the game, that your cunt is getting puffier and wetter, and you're squirming a little in your seat, dying for some contact.
I put down my beer and reach my left arm across my chest in your direction. I hear you breath in sharply and open your knees a little more, expecting that I'm reaching for your puss or clit. Instead I just scratch a phantom itch on my right side, and then reach back and grab my beer again.
I see your legs sag a little with disappointment, but your pussy just keeps getting wetter with anticipation.
It's the end of the first quarter, and the Seahawks have a 3 point lead.
"Simone" I ask as the first commercial comes on. "Will you do me a favor?"
Your mind races to think of what deliciously nasty request I might be conjuring up in my head. I pause for several seconds to increase the tension in the air while you're waiting for me to finish that request.
"Will you please get me another beer, and that bowl of fresh cherries we picked up from the farmer's market today?"
"FUCK!" you say to yourself, as you pull yourself off the couch and stomp into the kichen to get the beer and snack like I asked. The commercials are still on so you do your best to try to divert my attention.